Viewer Discretion Advised….

This blog is rated G.  G for GROSS.

Oh my heck.  You guys will not dig this.  This is gross.  So if you can’t stomach gross, today’s blog is not for you.  I, being the fabulous red headed freckly cutie pie that I am, happen to be subject to……skin cancer screenings.  Yeah.. I know…go in once a year, get my epiderm looked over by my Dr. Derm, get an all clear and off I go, till next year.   But this year I had this cranky “mole” on the back side of my upper arm.  Moles are really freckles with ugly egos, and this one was a little reddish, itchy, looking to start sumtin.  So I go in.. and she’s cut out of my arm.  Sent off to a lab only to be called “not cancer…but not normal.”

She was like pre-pre-cancer.  Like, one day I forgot the sunblock and she was all…”no you di’nt.  I’ll show you… I can start sumtin.”  Ha… I’m like, ” Ya think?  I’ll cut your sorry red scratchy ass right off my arm B’atch.  Now who’s laughing?…ain’t me.

Turns out.. her abnormal nature required (even with a 2nd opinion) that the area in which “said b’atch” resided needs to be removed as well.  HUH?  Cut up my arm some more?  Alternative…potential death.  Ok.. bring on the knife.  I am a cheerful patient.  My sweet Dr. kept saying how sorry she was that there was going to be a scar… longish, scar.  So apologetic.  I was like, “Gosh, do I look vain?  Really?”  Then I said..sista…best you check out my ankle.  Scars don’t scare me…that mother is FIVE FRANKENSTIEN inches long with screws.  Fa real.

Now… I really could care less how big this scar is.  She had to go deep too.  My arms are fine.. Not my “problem” area.   I would have liked it more if I had to have this done to say… stomach.  That was the cut.  you know.. like tummy tuck on the back of my arm.  But here’s the thing, within 24 hours it is infected.

Dammit!  It HURTS.  It ITCHES!  It is SWOLLEN! It made a grown man turn and squirm!  Wanna see it?

This picture was at about 10 in the morning today, one day after surgery.  Now.. it is freakishly puffy, horribly reddish, and unbelievably itchy.  I saw Dr. Derm again this afternoon in a panic and she confirmed it was infuckted.  Taking antibiotics now.  Hope it gets better before it gets worse.

You wanna know what kind of mom I am?  Sick in the head.  Last night, when it was hurting, I tucked my whole arm inside my shirt and went to give my kids the “one armed Mama” hug.  This is what mama would look like without her arm.

True, sick huh.  But my kids get me and we all laughed and hugged with the one arm pat on the back.

Sorry if I made you spew. Hope I made you laugh.  Now….. go get your skin checked. You don’t want to mess with the Melanoma stuff!  A scar is so much better than the alternative, right?


Monkey Boy

I got a hilarious email from my friend Bethany. This happened to her TODAY while at home with her little guy, 2 1/2 year old Luke. Been there? Anyone?

“So, I went to check on Luke a few minutes after I put him down for his nap today to see if he had gone poo. This is a pretty typical time for him to go since potty training started. Anyhow, I noticed when I went in that he had poo smeared all over his shirt. I cleaned him up and was getting ready to put him back in his crib when I noticed he was crouched down looking at a spot on the wall. I figured it was a spider until I heard him say “poo poo”! Seriously – did my child come from the monkey exhibit at the zoo?!!!!!!!!!!”


I really friggin do.  LOVE HER.  Leica just turned 12 this weekend.  We gave her presents and I baked her an angelfood cake of which she had a small serving and we all pretty much ate the rest. Pretty much. Shared some with the neighbors. She got an obnoxious squeaky ball and a new frisbee that will float in the water.

But my dog.  I love her.  She is the best dog in the whole wide world.  She is cute, has a pink nose and perky ears.  Mark and I got her as a puppy when we were just merely engaged twentysomethings.  She knows these words: beach, leash, scooby snack, walk, ball, toy, sing, speak, frisbee, and deer.  And some others.  She knows STOP.  Stop barking, stop digging, stop whining, stop backing your ass into my black pants you shedding yellow dog.

But I love her.  And she is 12.  I get a lump in my throat.  That is eightyfrigginfour in dog years.  No one believes me when I tell them how old she is.  Well, they do, but they are like, “REALLY?!?!!?”  Why? Cuz she looks and acts like she is four.  I. Know.  What a dog.

Here’s some cute pictures of her:

This is Leica on the river… just downstream from where I was fishing.  One of her “happy places.”

Here is her other “happy place,” the beach in Indianola.  She also loves the Oregon Coast, but I could not pick  a picture of her there.. .just to many!  I refuse to go there with out her.

Isnt’ she just beautiful?

This next set I call the “I love my dog” set:

Notice how the kids change and the dog doesn’t? That is Ruby as a baby on the blanket! She’s a freak of nature I must say!

These next photos are all about her loving tolerance of my children, and sometimes the grownups.  She took 3rd place in our local pet parade this year as Tinker bell.  She’ll let us put ANYTHING on her.  She even lets, (and loves) to have us bury her in the sand.  Can you believe it?

Now for the famous Leica.  This is a picture Mark took long before kids arrived in our lives, and he, being the talented photographer that he is submitted it to Getty Images and the photo has sold several times!  She’s been in advertisements, greeting cards, and magazines all over the world.  That’s my girl!

Well, that’s it.  I clearly love my dog.  You should to. Some of you do.

My Manga

Yo… so Jenny is so cutting edge and I have somuchtolearn! But I did create my own Manga, and then I tried to put it on her site in comments and failed horribly. Even with my hubby’s help….FAILURE.

So for you all… is my avatar or something icon me thingy