Had you been a bug on the wall last night at our casa, you would have heard this:

HotDrWife: Hey, I'm going to run out and get some Pedialyte at the store. Watch the Bug. He's coughing so hard he might throw up.

HotDrHusband: Oh, that's fucking SICK. Thanks.

HDW: You're a doctor.

HDH: That doesn't mean I'm okay with it!! I hate phlegm**. And then puke, in that order. I'd rather clean up FECES rather than puke. Feces, meaning SHIT.

HDW: I kinda figured what FECES was, you dummy. And, wow. And why the puke aversion?

HDH: 'Cause if I clean up FEEEECES, I don't feel like I have to SHIT afterwards. Puke just makes me wanna puke, man.

** And why does phlegm bug the doctor I married? Because once when he was a resident, he had to pull out a guy's tracheotomy tube and a wad of it landed on my husband's face. Shot right out. That might make me hate phlegm, too.

Labels: gross stuff, sickness

I had potato soup for lunch.

While that alone really isn't THAT blog-worthy, it reminded me of something that happened to me as a little kid. I was probably three at the time? I remember sitting in the kitchen at the table with my dad, refusing to eat the potato soup in front of me. It had big ol' chunks of potato, I remember them being too big, and I couldn't eat the soup.


I could hear Lawrence Welk playing on the TV in the living room, and I desperately wanted to go in and watch the dancers. The Muppets would come on after, I believe, and as I was sitting there protesting the potato soup, I was made to then listen to the Muppets and couldn't enjoy that show either.


My mother has a picture somewhere of my father sternly looking at me and me refusing - no, actually full on BAWLING - because I didn't want to eat the potato soup. By then, it was really, really cold, and when I actually did choke that crap down, I was gagging. (I have a similar memory about a picnic and creamed corn that had gotten cold. Who the hell serves hot creamed corn for a picnic?? Right, my mom.)


Good times.

Last night before bed, my son had pirated these bad boys from the kitchen ....



... and he was wielding them around, snapping at whatever he could. We were laying in bed (Dad, Mom, The Bug who is almost 3 yrs, egad), when the following conversation transpired:


Me: What should we do with those tongs, Bug?

Bug: Get Daddy's nip-puls (nipples)!!!

(Cue Daddy jumping up and running away)

Speaking of The Bug, he has a raging ear infection and a wee bit of a temp. At the moment, he is a slug in the chair, watching 'toons and having cups of milk. When the Motrin kicks in, though, this kid will be wired for sound.

And if y'all hadn't heard by now, my buddy Howard has been interviewed over at Best Gay Blogs and did a pretty neat interview. And if you haven't read Howard by now, shame on you. Make like a bakery truck and get yer BUNS over there!!

Random Comment Of The Day: "You know, you really aren't that nice when you haven't slept." - HotDoctorHusband to HotDoctorWife after she got roughly three hours of sleep, for the second night in a row, and he got more then eight. Just sayin' is all.

Labels: around the house, memories

Labels: brother, funnies

So ... next show, anyone wanna go along?? Hmmmm???

Labels: burlesque, mommy's night out

I grew up in a very, very fundamentally Protestant home. Very straight-laced. The prayers were said with "Thy, Thou, Thee". We were either at the church or volunteering for something church-related. And this was fine. Great basis for faith and morals and values. I honestly still carry a lot of that part of my life with me.

But ...

My mom kept the reigns tight on what music we could listen to ("HDW, you realize Twisted Sister speaks in the Devil's tongue?"), what those songs actually meant ("HDW, you DO realize that THIS SONG is about a man pushing his penis into a woman's vagina??" - said in front of most of my junior high girlfriends, I was mortified), to what shows we could watch ("HDW, you do realize that Doogie Howser is the decline of children's television?").

When I hit puberty, you can imagine how little I wanted to talk to my mom about anything to do with sex. My mom insisted we have open dialogue about sex. But "open dialogue" meant her her sitting next to me on my bed, forcing me to ask questions and I started to cry. She was the last person I wanted to ask, I didn't want to know what happened, I just wanted to turn on my Debbie Gibson album and forget about it all.

Hence, The Workbook appeared on my bed after school with a note telling me to fill it all out. Hell. No. I remember thinking even then she'd snoop through it all.

The Workbook was on Adolescence by Dr. James Dobson. I still have this workbook, and after looking for it, discovered it over the weekend. Apparently, my biggest fear at this time in my life wasn't anything more than getting naked in the group showers in Junior High after gym class. (I apparently got over this fear, as I spent the early part of my 20's without my shirt on, flashing cameras . Here's to that political career I'll never have!)

Fast forward to the shower before my wedding. I got all sorts of lingerie with the advice of, "I bet it'll look GREAT on the floor!! Yuk, yuk!!". By this time, the V-CARD had long been gone and I had a bit of experience under my belt. My mom knew this. In fact, when she found that part out, she threatened to throw away every Bible in the house. In other words, not such a good reaction.

My mom gave me a gift at my wedding shower. She said two things about the gift, both which were serious warnings of what was about to land in my possession. First, she had seen this on PBS and was impressed. Secondly, it had certainly helped her out.

I present you with:

(drumroll)

CLICK TO VIEW THE VIDEO AND IT IS SAFE FOR WORK!

Yeah, not so much. She walks around on a stage, lecturing folks on sex. I think I still have it somewhere ... it has bite marks in it, though.

But that's another story.

"The loneliest woman in the world is a woman without a close woman friend." ...

but how lucky I am not to be lonely!



My trip to visit the beautiful and funny Fyrchk in DC this weekend has been postponed. Fyrchk lost her uncle today to cancer, and as we all know, cancer is a dirty bitch. She will be spending the weekend instead with family and attending the funeral of a wonderful man.

My Love Thursday today is in honor of my wunnerful friend, Fyrchk (and if you want to see a bit of Fyrchk, that's her hot sex foot in the middle).

Mama, I want to reach through the wires and hug you something silly! I feel so very bad for you. Your uncle was an incredible man and put up an valiant fight against an unforgiving disease.

I am so lucky to have collided with you in the most unusual way and to have been lucky enough to have forged down this road of Friendship with you. You make my heart happy and crack up my soul! I'm looking forward to many more years of this friendship we share (skipping over maybe Wee Jimmy and the "I'm So Pretty" crap).

Lots of love to you, Mama!!

~ HDW

"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares. - Henri Nouwen"

Labels: friendship, fyrchk, love thursday

Well, yay for President's Day, I guess. It's no different for me than any other day, except I had my husband home all day.

HotDoctorHusband wanted to listen to his music, so we had this stuff playing. HDH knows I don't like it; therefore, he turned it up as loud as possible. And it's not that I can't appreciate the music, but on repeat for hours? Not gonna happen. So I left and went candle shopping, which reminds me ...

I redecorated the mantel above our fireplace in the family room yesterday. My husband remarked that it didn't 'look balanced' (whatever), and needed candles on the other end, too.

I put two candles up on the right side, bringing the grand total to four, and asking him how it looked now, considering he has the discerning interior decorative taste, apparently:

Him: "I don't know, if you put anymore candles up there, it'll look like we're having a seance and can talk to the Dead."

Me: "Oh really? And what will you say after I kill you??"

Him: "You'll know it's me. I'll say PEACE, BITCHES!!!"


Last night before bed, my son pounded back some water and then started jumping on our bed. My husband laying on one side, me on the either. Without much warning, my son then urps up the water he just consumed. My son stood up, stared at the mess, hands on his hips, totally puzzled and said, "What IS that??".

I fell off the bed laughing, crawling into the bathroom to get something to wipe it up with.

My son kept asking me to 'name it', but I was too busy crying laughing, because my husband had jumped up from his side of the bed, yelling, "OHMYGOD! He just BARFED on the bed ... NO WAIT! HE JUST THREW UP ON MY SIDE OF THE BED! Holy crap!!! How did he know it was MY SIDE? Jesus Christ! That's disgusting!".

I couldn't have aimed his urp any better myself.

And so ends how we spent our President's Day holiday at the HotDoctorCasa.

Labels: life, Presidents Day, vacation day my ass

If you have it [Love], you don't need to have anything else, and if you don't have it, it doesn't matter much what else you have.
Sir James M. Barrie


Dear Bug,

Do you know you are truly the owner of my heart? I wouldn't have believed in love at first unless they'd laid you in my arms, wiggling and crying, almost three years ago. You are absolutely a riot to be around. When you held up the cup and said, "Daddy, what color this?" and when he answered correctly, you said, "Good boy, Daddy! Give five!!" - and I nearly fell off the bed laughing.

You amaze me every day with your interest in making sure everyone is okay - you are a true champion of the underdog. You melt my heart into a thousand pieces when you see me cry and say, "You 'kay, mommy?? You 'kay?". You then take my face into your hands and wait intently to know for sure if I am or not. And after I cut my finger YET AGAIN the other night, and I said that I just wasn't okay, you went to get your blankie and offered me the only other thing that brings you comfort. I'd like to think I'm still the first, you know.

Bug, you light up my world and I can't imagine my life before you. I'm not sure I lived until you came into my world, really.

Happy Valentine's Day, my little man. Don't grow up too fast, too soon.

Love,
Mommy





here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)”

e.e. cummings, 1894-1962

Labels: love thursday, Valentines Day

Labels: cartoon, cyanide and happiness, Valentines Day

My girlfriend called about an hour ago to tell me that this potential suitor that's been bugging her, showed up unannounced at her house with a giant-ass arrangement of very pretty flowers and a few pieces of chocolate. She's not interested in him, he's very interested in her, and insisted on taking a picture with his camera of her standing with the flowers. She said it was one of the most awkward moments in her life. Thanked him, gave him a tour of her new house, and he left.

And this got me to thinking about a guy I went out with sometime back in the late 90's. The only 'rule' I had for dating was that they make me laugh, and he seemed to fit the bill. Otherwise, I didn't much care how they looked or what they did for a living. I had dated everyone from a guy who picked up airplane wrecks, a farmer (otherwise known as "Kitty Litter Brian"), an accountant, to a real shit bag who broke up with me because I didn't know enough 'important people' in town. Ooooh, wait ... that's another story ...

Anyway, my first date with this guy was pretty snazzy. He picked me up in a limo, gave me a red rose, took me for a nice ride through LoDO (downtown Denver). I remember having a great time, enjoying the company, conversation, and what not. He did mention at the end of the evening that he 'couldn't wait' for me to meet his mom. That kinda put the brakes on a bit for me.

On our second date, he wanted to hold my hand, which was pretty nice. I wasn't horribly offended with a guy taking it slow for once. And instead of just reaching over and sweetly taking it or however that's supposed to work, he yelled, "HAND!!!" and stuck his out. I was startled and didn't know what to do, so I think I just gave me hand over.

One cool thing about our courtship was the flowers he'd send me. Every Friday, I'd have a dozen yellow roses from him, with a sweet note attached. There would be notes in English, Spanish, German and French. And because this was all pre-Google, I'd haul my ass to the library to figure out the words I didn't know.

Eventually, I met his family. He was awfully sweet with emails, cards, letters, a CD he'd found while vacationing in Hawaii, an angel for my collection, and of course, the flowers. I wasn't as in to him as he was me. Such a nice guy, just not the spark I thought I was looking for.

Before I ended 'it' (whatever 'it' was), I got one last dozen yellow roses from him. And the note, true to form, was in another language all together. I couldn't figure out WHICH language it was for the life me. I asked my roommate, she didn't know. I asked the people I worked with, they didn't know.

Finally, one IT guy at my work came by, I showed him the note, and he said, "Ooooh yeah --- that's, uh, Klingon, man" and walked off.

'Scuse me? What just happened??

I'd received yellow roses with a note in Klingon? Wow. Certainly creative, no doubt about that.

Our relationship ended, he went on to get married to someone who presumably had the Klingon translation book all fired up, and we still share friends in common.

I think I have the note somewhere in the boxes I've saved downstairs. Maybe I should dig it up and see what the note really said ... and in the age of Google, I'm certain I could really solve this Scooby Doo mystery.

Edit: Damn, I've found A LOT of Klingon websites. With words you can 'use during every day conversation'. Holy cow!

Labels: dating, flowers, Valentines Day

Me: Lay down so I can change your diaper.

HDT: NO!

Me: Honestly, you stink. LAY. DOWN.

HDT: NOOOOOO!

Me: Right. Now. Mommy is losing serious patience.

HDT: NO! MOMMY NO TOUCH M'TOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSIE! (for tushie)

And off he ran, stinky ass and all.

Eek!

It was twelve years ago yesterday that my dad died. I didn't know what to post today. I've done a lot of posts about him.

And then it occurred to me - I found a stack of letters sent to us after he died, from friends and family, and this one in particular was something I felt compelled to share.

It's written by his cousin Bruce, a month or so after Dad died:

"Dear Family,

I'm sorry I'm such a lousy letter writer. Please know my prayers are a lot more consistent, and those will be much more frequent in the future.

It was a shock to me. HDW'sDad was so solid, so strong, so natural as force for good. He has always been one of my heroes.

Growing up, I watch him combine with Cousin Dan to do impossible feats on the playing field. I knew I was a witness to one of the greats - because he lived the whole life; body, mind and spirit.

Once in Geometry class, he actually told Mr. Berry that he hadn't a clue how Mr. Berry got that answer. As it turned out, neither did Mr. Berry, but the lesson for me was: never be afraid to admit your honest ignorance AND never accept blame for being ignorant when you are giving it your best shot.

I think his legendary status came from his will-power. No matter what the task, he focused on it and gave it his best effort: practice, planning, preparing and a ton of determination. Nobody bats 1.000 for the season, but I don't remember HD'sDad ever striking out - perhaps because he was my hero; but I believe it's because he always came back. He was determined to meet the ball with every fiber of his being. He could not be beaten. The perfect game? I saw a dozen. More. He always came back because he believed in making every move he could, standing on his beliefs, stating when he knew and what he didn't, and running the path he knew to be fair and honest and straightforward.

In this, fate seems to be trying to win by calling the game, a shocking tactic, but HD'sDad wins again, because he leaves us all a much better world for having seen and felt his living of life. I want more, and someday, Thank Jesus, I'll have it in heaven. Meanwhile, I know HD'sDad is hollering at me to step up to the plate.

Your cousin, Bruce"

Cousin Bruce pictured at left with my dad (my dad being the taller of the two). They had gone fishing, and you can somewhat make out their 'catches' in the middle of the stick they're holding.








"And when we're gone long gone
The only thing that will have mattered
Is the love that we shared
And the way that we cared
When we're gone, long gone ..."

"When We're Gone, Long Gone" - Dolly Parton, Emmylou Harris, Linda Ronstadt

Labels: daddy, love thursday, old letter

Talk about a whirlwind weekend.

Friday night: HotDoctorHusband took me out for dinner to celebrate my birthday. Great bottle of wine and some good food. Went to Tattered Cover and got a few new books. Saw a vehicle in front of us that had a bumper sticker on it, said something like, "Minivan's are the root of all evil". And of course, it was on a minivan. I laughed my ass off.

Saturday night: Met a group of buddies at the bar up the street, sat around, laughed, drank, had a kick in the ass time. Of course, it wouldn't be right not to show you a few of the gifts I received ...





Just to show you a few of them, anyway!

Sunday: Hosted a Super Bowl party here for what was supposed to be an insane amount of people, and only had half of that. Everybody got a door prize, though: a box of pizza. My favorite comment during Prince's performance was, "Man, this is the one time I'm hoping NOT for a wardrobe malfunction!". - ha!

Hope everyone had a great weekend!