lets-go-bother-the-writerMy writing life is infested with squirrels.

My squirrels try to out do each other and pop up to distract me at the most awkward times.  I have at least four.

1.  The Squirrel in Armor – She is tough and rattles her saber.  Smells like pipe-smoke.  May hang out with wizards and thieves.

         Hard to ignore score:  5 out of 10

2.  The Shiny Squirrel – She prefers spaceships to planets.  I cal her Mel.

          Hard to ignore score:  7 out of 10

3.  The Sparkly Squirrel – When in the sunlight he sparkles.  May or may not be undead.

          Hard to ignore score:  6 out of 10

4.  The Lovey-Dovey Squirrel – Overly romantic, starry-eyed, waiting to meet the one.  Knows how to sigh dramatically

          Hard to ignore score:  8 out of 10

Any two from above – they may play tag or break out into song.

Hard to ignore score:  10 out of 10

If they show up all together – squirrel-ageddon.  They are only chased away by shutting off the computer and hiding – preferable with chocolate.

Hard to ignore score:  26 out of 10

How do you ignore the squirrels in your life?

‪What do you get when you combine a 4-year-old and rolled up cardboard?‬

‪What do you get when you combine a 4-year-old and rolled up cardboard?‬

‪A trip to the doc to remove said cardboard from their nose!‬

Two weeks ago, my son said, “Mommy I have garbage in my nose.”‬  I thought he meant booger‬. So showed him how to blow his nose.

Then Sunday night he said, “No mommy I put it up there.”

Oh oh.

I got the flashlight and ‬‪sure enough, rolled up cardboard was wedged deep in his nose‬. Since it had been up there for two weeks already and he didn’t have a fever or any other obvious symptoms, I figured no ER visit needed. I would call the doc in the morning and we would see the regular doctor.


The next day at the doc, my normally reasonable son (for a 4-year-old), bucked like we were trying to cut his nose off.  After the forth attempt Doc said, “It smells rotten‬. Your choice an ENT specialist or ER, but it needs to come out.  High odds he will need to be sedated.”

‪Uggg so to ER I went‬.

They didn’t believe my happily playing son would turn into a werewolf when they tried to extract anything from his nose.  But, five adults couldn’t hold him still enough to get the cardboard out.‬ And he wailed the whole time. THE WORST.

‪Six times was not the charm, and they had to sedate him‬.

I ‪ended with a high son, and the cardboard no longer stuck in his nose, because it was pushed in.  Either he swallowed it or it got pushed up into his sinus‬. Since they couldn’t see it, we went into wait and see mode.

‪There had to be a life lesson about this experience.

Maybe a variation of a stitch in time:  Sensei says getting kid to sit still for 3 minute save 3 hour ER visit‬.

What have you been through that was way harder than it ought to have been?

It happened again

It happened again.

No, this is not the dreaded ma’am.  Or even being called an elderly pregnancy. This is far worse.

This is when people ask if you are the grandma of your own kid.

Oh the horror. 🙂


Photo by KristinNador / CC BY

The writer in me really wanted to come up with a fantastical reason.

The time machine glitched and I had to live a few extra years before getting back to now.

You caught me, but since my 20 year old daughter was the first to become a zombie, I’ve been acting as guardian for my grandchild until the zombie apocalypse hits.  Don’t tell anyone.

Instead I said, nope she’s my daughter.

What’s the funniest thing you never said?

Tooth Fairy

The soft sob my daughter gave was not normal.

It was a school morning. Which meant at 7:15 she was barefoot, and crazy haired from sleep. She looked up and Instead of the missing-front-teeth-grin, her mouth puckered and tears rolled down her cheeks.

“The tooth fairy never came.” Her lips quivered.

My heart picked up pace. Shit. The tooth fairy. How had I forgotten? I had helped my daughter pull out her tooth yesterday. She had been so excited, she had written a note. She was hoping for a dollar.

I was the worst mom ever. I would forever be late to everything and never remember important stuff like tooth fairies.  She was going to be scarred for life.

“Where was the tooth? Was it on your pillow?” I kept my eyes on her and grabbed my purse and dug around. I had to have some cash.

“It was under my pillow.” Another fat tear slid down her cheek and she stuck her thumb in her mouth. Man, she was upset. My heart twisted in guilt.

“Did you try and stay up late to see her?” Yes, I am a sexists. Tooth faeries are girls. The only cash I had was a five. That would have to do.

She nodded.

“The tooth fairy is probably just running late. Put on your jacket and get your shoes on.”

“Yes, Mommy.” She sighed.

I ran up to her bedroom. I switched out the five for the tooth in seconds and was across the hall in my room before she spotted me. I added the tooth to the little treasure chest on the top of my shelf. This one would make the fourth addition.

I stood at my door and looked down at my daughter. She still had her thumb in her mouth and stared at the floor. “Stink bug?”

“Mooooom.” She rolled her eyes roll like her future teenage self.

“I saw something in your room.” I waited making sure she saw me at my door. I pointed at her room and hoped she would buy that I hadn’t just been in her room.

“What did you see?” She looked puzzled, but interested.

“It was small and fast.” I held my breath and watched her face.

Her twisted brows evened out and her mouth opened to a little ‘O’. She ran up the stairs and dove straight for her pillow squealing “The tooth fairy came.”

Sheeew. She bought it. I had put off winning worst mom of the year award. Having to give her a five for each tooth was probably worth it.  Right?

My lesson? Don’t be afraid to improvise.  (And maybe make sure you have cash.)

What about you any stories from the trenches?