Mrs. CPA

My Hometown

This is not a story of hospital visits, although it probably means that for a lot of people.  My hometown, Dumas, was hit by a horrific tornado on Saturday.  Most of the town is gone.  The big news agencies are covering it, and showing Mad Butcher and Freds, but there are so many people who have lost everything.  They will be without power for at least 2 or 3 weeks and everyone will have to start over.  None of my family lives there anymore, but I have a lot of high school classmates and friends who still live there.   Everyone I know seems to be ok, but keep them in your prayers please.  It's going to take a while for them to recover.   

I've had my Fill of Butt Thermometers

Mr. Cheeks is doing much better.  His oxygen levels are back up without having to wear oxygen, and they took out his IV line this afternoon.  He's still having breathing treatments every four hours.  The doctor said that if everything keeping along these lines we can go home tomorrow.  The Doctor said that he thought it was bronchitis from the chest X-rays taken yesterday. 

Mr. Cheeks can actually move around now since he doesn't have all the tubes attached.  This hospital even has a children's resources person who brought us toys and books when he couldn't get out of the room and now that he's not attached he can go down to the playroom.  We were lucky that TP and Mr. Cheeks were already on the road so they had plenty of clothes and toys already.  I didn't take my clothes back with me on the airplane on Sunday, so I didn't even have to go home and pack a bag.  Since it's about 400 degrees here, I did have to go and buy us some T-shirts and shorts and Mr. Cheeks something other than a hospital gown to wear.  These were not as cute as the tubes hospital gowns. 

I spoke with our pediatrician back home and she said that she wouldn't be doing anything differently, and TP was smart to stop so that made us all feel better.  Hopefully we'll be home tomorrow and I can tell you the whole sordid tale, but now I'm going to go play with Mr. Cheeks in the closet, which he loves climbing in. 

Quickly

I'm in Greenwood, MS with Mr. Cheeks and TP.  They admitted him yesterday and we spent the night in the ER because there were no rooms.  We'll be here until at least Friday, and I'm using TP's computer and wireless outside.  We're in a room and Mr. Cheeks is getting better, but he's still not back to normal.  I'll report more when I can.  Thanks for all your well wishes and prayers.  We really appreciate them!

We Interrupt This Broadcast...

Mr. Cheeks and TP are on their way home from Arkansas, with a (hopefully ) brief detour to the emergency room in Greenwood, Mississippi.  Mr. Cheeks's breathing has worsened int he past few days and TP said he was acting uncharacteristically ill-tempered, crying and throwing his toys.  I could hear his raspy breathing over the phone when they were four hours gone from Nan's and had only traveled a distance that takes two hours. 

I don't know what's wrong with him, and I'm not there to help fix it. 

Rub a Dub Dub, There's an Evinrude in My Tub

The wedding.  Oh, God the wedding.  And the Bath House.  And the drinking.  And the mother in laws and their snake charming churches.*  Also I'M HOME ALONE WITHOUT A BABY OR A HUSBAND AND I'M GOING TO BED AT 9:00.   

On Friday night, after the rehearsal dinner, I met my sister in the lobby of her hotel to have some drinks and watch the bride to be's friends act like lunatics.  When it's an old man trio, normal people don't get up and stage and shake their booty - but these ladies did.  Then my sister was hit on by an 80+ year old man who pinched her side, growled and made a kissing noise at her, and then trotted out on to the dance floor with another woman.  He tried to feel up one of the other ladies and she kept having to remove his hand from the side of her boob.  You can't blame a man for trying...

Someone in the hotel thought it would be romantic to light a candle, but failed to think about where the flame would be flickering and caught a lamp shade on fire at 2:30 am and the whole hotel had to be evacuated.  TP and Mr. Cheeks and I weren't staying there, but from what I hear it was a fun night. 

The bath house in Hot Springs was totally wonderful.  But my attendant wouldn't let me bring my book back to the bath with me, which in hindsight, was probably a good idea, but at the time struck fear in my heart.  Because there are only about 3 things on my "a good time" list that are above reading in the bathtub.  A bathtub that was colossal.  One that was big enough for me to lean back in and my feet to barely touch the other end.  With my 36 inches of legs, that's a rarity.  The whirlpool effect is done with a large motor mounted on the side of the tub that looks like a trolling motor for a boat.  And then someone scrubs you down, you go in a sauna (for only 50.7 seconds because it's too hot and there are also uncovered boobs in there, which I am afraid of), and then they wrap you with hot towels.  Then it's time for your massage.  A word to the wise, when the masseuse says lay on your back, she means your other back, like where your butt is.  I think I had water in my ears or something.  That doesn't explain why I'm so retarded couldn't get my locker open and had to get help.  It wasn't even a combination, it was a key.  That's just sad. And when did massages start including your butt?  I know it a muscle and all but I don't think it does very much, except grow, and that doesn't hurt.   

I went shoe shopping with my sister and after seeing her toenails, we had to go to the nail place for pedicures.  When the Vietnamese woman looks at your feet and says, "Oooooo, long." you know it's time for a pedicure.  Haley has the longest toes I have ever seen on any person.  Since I convinced her that she didn't need to wear hose, she said she had to get something to hold in her gut.  That's a gut on a woman who wear size six jeans.  Then we saw our preacher in the lingerie section.  Whatever it was that she bought, she should have gotten a medium because she swore it cut off all circulation in her legs and made her have four butts.   

The wedding went off without a hitch, unless you count a wreck in front of the horsetrack on opening race weekend that the bride's parents were caught in, a hitch.  The ceremony started at 7 instead of 6:30, so it wasn't too bad.  My food consumption at the reception consisted of five cucumbers, a carrot stick, and a piece of cake.  From what I heard, the rest of the food was delicious, I just never got any.  Everyone had eaten it all by the time I could get to the table.  Bitches.   But it made me a cheap date, so there's always a plus side. 

Then Kendall, my 5 year old nephew, proceeded to breakdance and do the sprinkler for everyone, one of the bride's friends rapped Baby Got Back, complete with the appropiate dance moves, and I laughed a lot.  I also saw some people form my home town and their children, who are nearly grown, that I used to baby sit from the time they were born.  That'll make you feel old.   

All of my uncles got drunk, one of them even told the owners of the hotel that they were cut off from the bar, another climbed in the bushes to get a roll of film, my dad's girlfriend threw-up in the hall, the bride's group of friends got in trouble for popping balloons because the manager thought it was gunfire, and TP and I finally went back to his mother's at 1 am.   I don't think the Arlington people knew what they were signing up for when they said yes to a bunch of redneck Hardin's in the place.  I even danced some with Haley, and maybe once with TP, and once with my Dad, who also got drunk.  People, I don't think you realize the once in a lifetime event that was my father with a popped collar, swinging around his tuxedo tie.

Where was Mr. Cheeks during all this?  He slept through the ceremony, which was a good thing, since Kaden, my other nephew, ate all his puffs.  He visited the reception for a little while and then we took him back to TP's mother's house. 

When we got to the airport  and checked in for my return flight, they asked if I wanted to upgrade to first class between Dallas and Birmingham, and my debit card couldn't get though the reader fast enough.  Ninety dollars later, and a cramped ride on a regional jet beside a too talkative solider (who did share his complimentary cashews with me), I was drinking champagne in a super large seat with the only empty seat on the plane beside me.

After paying the dog sitter the equivalent of our water and gas bill, I took another bath, and was asleep by 9:30.  My hairdryer, husband and son are in Arkansas, and I'm home alone.  It's too quiet.  And I really need to dry my hair.

I Let my Child Try Dog Food

Eleanor has a raised bowl to keep her from getting bloat.  There is nothing Mr. Cheeks likes more than to sprint into the kitchen and make a beeline for the dog bowl.  He gets up on his little knees and sticks his little, fat hands in over the edge of the bowl and grabs a piece of Eukanuba Senior Large Breed and tries to stick it in his mouth.  Today, I let him try it.  And those little teeth tried to crunch it up.  I stopped him before he choked or actually ingested any, but man, I think dog food is cheaper than formula.  He also might be more likely to drink out of the water bowl than drink out of a cup.  Instead of teaching him how to blow kisses, I might just teach him how to lap up water.  He and Eleanor produce about the same amount of drool a day so it would mean having to change the water twice as often.  Tradeoffs are a bitch. 

We're leaving on Friday to go to my brother's wedding in Hot Springs.  TP and I have to stay with my mother in law, so that I can fly home on Sunday to be back at work on Monday.  I thought our money could be better spent on a plane ticket than a hotel room for two nights.  This means that TP and Mr. Cheeks can go and visit more of our family and I can do more taxes. 

The last time I was in Hot Springs unsupervised was on a retreat with the accounting firm I worked for while I was in school.  We stayed at the Arlington and had a few meetings in the morning and then had baths and massages at the bath house.  Then we went to dinner and had enough drinks to float a boat, then more drinks at a bar, I may have even danced.  And then we went to a fine establishment called Shapes that featured "dancing ladies."  I think it was my idea.  The firm even gave us money for tips.  Let's just say it was a hard morning, and I'm glad we didn't have to sit through any more meetings.  The digestive properties of Hot Springs water coupled with copious amounts of alcohol was not a combination I would wish on many people. 

Hopefully strip clubs are not going to be on our agenda this weekend.  But I did remember how awesome the bath house was and I made myself an appointment for Saturday morning.  I figure if I have to stay with my MIL, I deserve $60 worth of hot bath and a stranger seeing me half naked.

Guess What? I Finally Gave Some Awards!

This month I decided to give ROFL awards to two people who made my day a little brighter. 
 
The first one goes to:

DUN DUN DUN....

That chick over there at Jason. For the Love of God. for her post on dating, The guy With George Bush on his Wall.

This woman is hysterical.  Like have to look around and make sure no one is looking at you after you read an entry because you've been trying to squelch the giggle fit that is threatening to erupt, hysterical. 

The second award is a bit anti-climatic since some other people decided to outdo me and award this one a perfect post award. 

But this is her first ROFL award, so Ha! 

Susan, at Are We There Yet, and the thrilling caper of CSI:Virginia .

Susan, always quick with a funny kid story, truly outdid herself this month. 

Thanks, guys, you both did an awesome job!

If you have someone you would like to nominate for February, Head over to Mommy of the Record and Izzy, for all the deets. 

Can Walk in High Heels

A story went around many years ago (an urban legend before the rise of the Internet) about a  teacher who had her students write down nice things about their classmates.  She made up little slips of paper with the nice things and gave each student a copy of what others had said about them.  One day she went to the funeral of a former student and his mother pulled the teacher aside to tell her that when she look ed through his belongings, in his wallet she found the  little piece of paper with the good things written on it.

One of my high school teachers thought that this was a great story (she also loved to tell the one about the couple who got fried rat in their KFC) and wanted to do the same for all of her students.  So she handed out paper, and we all dutifully wrote down nice things about each person in the class.  I still have my piece of paper. 

Even though I thought the story was hokey, it was sort of fun to have a glimpse as to what others thought of you.  I'm not exactly sure how "gives me gum" is a personality attribute, but I went with it.  Unfortunately my ability to "walk in high heels" has waned over the years to the point of debilitating pain after only a few hours, but I like to think that the others still stand.  I still carry around gum (although back then it was probably because I had been smoking at lunch)and I don't have long hair anymore, but I do still have long legs (36" inseam), and I do "do work" (ask me about taxes, go on, ask me).  In our small Southern town, the one that meant the most to me was that someone said I treated everyone the same.  And I don't think they meant treated everyone shitty.  I hope I still possess that quality today.  I try too.