H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y T O M E ! ! ! ! !

I am such a strange woman. (if you aren’t aware of this, it’s obvious you don’t know me) I like birthdays. I guess the fact that I keep being told I must be turning 30 helps. Hahahaha!

Yesterday I turned a bit more than 30. Came to work and the sun was shining. That’s always good. Had a good talk with a couple of friends. Work was slow. Got wished happy birthday all throughout the day. Even taken out to lunch. Yeah for me!

Even the one person I’m convinced hates me sent me an email with a cake wishing me happy birthday….maybe it’s just dislike….

So after the meeting at the strawberry festival where I learned some ‘interesting’ things about my fellow teammates….I came home. Turn down the street and here is this huge white sheet saying Happy Birthday Mom with all my kids’ hand prints on there in different colors….my face hurt from how big my smile was.

B-Bug comes running out the door to show it to me. Classic. I had the girls hold it up so I could get pictures of all the handprints. Then I made sure when the sheet was taken down that I got it and it wasn’t tossed out.

So I go in the garage with this big, fat, cheesy grin on my face to where my husband is cooking steaks for dinner. Oh and not just steaks. I had steak, crab legs, crab stuffed mushrooms and this brushetta with sun-dried tomatoes. Man was it good! I was a spoiled woman.

I meander into the house where on the kitchen table is the most beautiful bouquet of flowers. There were big red roses with tiny yellow rose buds. Purple flowers scattered through out. These purple flowers bloomed over the weekend and the tiny yellow rose buds began to open. The red roses are so beautiful and smell so good! I feel of rose petals on my face….they are so soft….

So after dinner and we are talking, the girls tell me to look under the spices. Under the spices??? For what? Just do it. Okay, so being the vertically challenged person in which I am, I have to get a stool. I’m looking, I’m looking…and there is this tiny slip of paper. Go to the shower? Find another one, look under your pillow. This took me all over the house. I have found more hiding spaces than ever in this house. Even in the microwave.

At one point I was to look in hubby’s pocket. It was so funny. Cause when I went to search his pockets, his chair fell backwards. Feet all up in the air. I think I was crying I was laughing so hard. Especially with the look on his face!!!

So I look and look and they are whispering. Finally it tells me to look behind the big plant in the kitchen. There is this huge box with this small one on top. I open them. One is all three Mummy movies. (big Brendan Frasier fan). The other, I can’t believe it.

I look at the box and he tells me, “It’s not what you think.” Okay, then he just used the box to pack the real present. Liar! Open it and there, inside, was a brand new laptop. Say it with me……..Vista. No, like this: Viiiiissssttaaaa….. I drove DoogBoog crazy with it. She would roll her eyes…..MOM!!!

I sat in shock. A laptop? A new laptop? For real? Is this really for me or for you and you gonna let me use it? Nope, for me. For real? I can’t believe …. I just can’t believe…I cried…..then I screamed . . . and screamed. . . and screamed . . . say it with me: V I I I S S S T T T A A A!!!

Oh, I geeked out! I got to install it. Yeah! Lightscribe. Multi-card reader. 160GB drive. A full Gig of RAM. Marvelous graphics. DVD RW (of course). Something called TV Recorder. It even has it’s own mini remote. WAY KOOL! I finally quit screaming and calmed down to high pitched giggling….oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah!

He’s looking at me….”Do you really enjoy that stuff that much? You really like it that much?” I’m trying to think of something that would mean the same to him. “Do you like your tools?” “I’d sleep with them if I could.” I pet the laptop, “This is my ‘tools’.” I can’t believe it! HA! Yeah for me! (I brought it into work for other’s to drive Vista if they want – one should share their blessings)

H A P P Y B I R T H D A Y T O M E ! ! ! ! !

Then: My son. My son, my son, my son…..

We knew it was gonna happen. We even mentioned it to the kids. Didn’t slow them down a bit.

DoogBoog has this place on the back of her bike for luggage, lunch, picnic basket, whatever….Bubs just figures it’s for his butt. We saw him earlier that day on Dink’s bike going down the road and we took bets as to whether he’d lose a toe or not.

We mentioned. If you have your brother on your bike, you need to make sure he has his shoes on because he’s going to get his foot caught. What do they do? Just like any other kids, ‘Sure. We will. Whatever…..”

So….as fate likes to step in a teach us lessons, she did.

I saw him plotted right on the back of the bike and as they are standing there, I see his little, tiny, baby foot going in and out of the spokes. I bang on the window and cause three heart attacks before I go running out the door with his shoes in hand. I’m telling her, “You have to be careful. You are going to get his foot caught in the spokes. He’s not old enough to know to keep them out. Please be careful and go slow. He is most definitely going to get them caught.”

I spoke it into existence.

We knew it was going to happen. We knew it. I even said, it is going to happen. Sure enough. Here comes B-Bug with him in her arms and him screaming. I can see the torn flesh. The purple color. I grab him and go into the bathroom with Dad following. Here comes DoogBoog in bawling. “I didn’t mean to hurt him. Tell him I didn’t mean to hurt him.” Didn’t we say this was coming?

Where’s his shoe??? They bring it in. It’s cut. (Whew! Glad we put them on!) Looking at his foot…okay, there is the torn skin, bruising, swelling….why is it white? Like paper white?

I’m not kidding…why is it white? That bothered me. So I’m feeling around on my own foot in the same spot. What could be damaged from spokes? Well, there is the tendon, the top of the heel bone could be grabbed…why is it white?

So we take him to the ER to make Mom feel better. (Dad said he was okay with that, lol) I kid you not, I’m in the back of the van with him to calm down my hurt baby boy and he falls asleep before we travel the 3 miles to get there.

Take him back, lay his sleeping body on the bed. They clean it, wrap it and explain the ‘white’ question. (which I might add was the same thing Dad had been trying to explain to me this whole time – and we say they don’t listen to us…..) When flesh experiences blunt, force, trama, it stops the circulation. Thus it turns white till the blood returns. So he’s not ‘killed’ that part of his foot. I’m good… breathing again…

Dad mentions that he’s going to think Spider Man wrapped his foot in webbing. You know what these people do? They go back and find some red and blue wrapping the same colors as Spider Man and wrap his foot in that. How cool was that? He loved it. (and he left his bandages alone too!)

Take some xrays…and….he’s good. Nothing broken. Need to follow up. Hopefully won’t need skin graphs. We’re all good!

Take him home where he played it up! Limping, “I can’t walk. I broke foot.” Riiiight. 5 minutes later he’s running down the driveway after his sisters screaming. I get nudged and told to look outside, he’s got his bicycle at the end of the driveway riding it down full speed. I shake my head and grab my camera….my boy…..