Sprite's Keeper

Let the sleeping kid lie, but not the sleeping dog.

It's been two hours. Any longer and she'll never get to sleep tonight.

I bounce onto the queen size bed, a luxury request she had asked for once she realized there was no plan B for nap time, "I want to sleep in your bed. On your side." She doesn't stir, still lost in dreams where play-dough, butterflies, and sidewalk chalk have lead roles.

"Sprite, it's time to wake up."

Nothing.

I lean over and brush her hair out of her face. Strands stick to her face,a combination of sweat and mere stillness. As much as I love this kid, I am so changing the pillowcase tonight. "Sprite, come on. Wakey wakey."

"Mmrr." Her hand reaches up to finish brushing the stubborn hair from her cheek before snuggling deeper into the sheets.

"Sprite! Let's go! There's things to do, playgrounds to explore, Daddy to climb on!"

"Not yet." Her hand rises up once more to flick back at me in dismissal. (I am not even slightly taking credit for that one.)

"Do you want some juice?"

"No."

"Do you want to go to the playground?"

"No."

I need to switch things up. To distract her is to awaken her. "Do you want to go to school?"

"No."

I'm going to pull out the big guns, although it may cost me dearly. "Do you want to go to Disney World?"

Only a heartbeat passes before she tosses back, "No, that's on my birthday."

I give up. "All right, you have five more minutes."

I walk out and catch a movement coming from her room. Coming closer, I realize what's happening and yell, "Blue, get off of Sprite's bed!"

The beagle leaps off from her state of rest and Sprite's feet patter across the hardwood floor as she darts out in front of me, her Medusa inspired hair reaching out at all angles."Blue, bad girl! You went on my bed, you go to time out!"

She stomps over to the poor mutt and grabs her collar, yanking the prisoner over to the Time Out mat near the front door.

Nap time is officially over.

RTT: Who has time?

99.9% of my readers are female, (Hi, Captain!) so I'm going to dedicate this first piece of random to you.

You know how when you're cleaning out your hairbrush and bring the resulting hairball to the trash can, you usually let go above the recepticle and walk away as gravity takes care of guiding your refuse to its target?

Well, it turns out you CAN'T delegate responsibility to a law of physics when the trash can you're using is a stepper bin. So, what turns out to be a good time saver ends up being a thirty second weighing of options on whether or not you should  keep your foot on the pedal so the puff of strands can reach its destination or walk away after a cursory quick step or just wait until later to pick up the errant tumbleweed since you were totally planning on sweeping the bathroom today anyway. If you get time. Like you haven't gotten since the last time you planned to sweep the bathroom.

It does lend support to the reasons of why John's socks are usually found strewn AROUND the hamper but since the hamper is an open top, we're just going to throw that fish back into the water..

Weekday mornings are not friendly on time in the Keeper household. (I would love to meet the person who came up with the clever slogan "add time to get time" to their morning routine. And spike their coffee.) Breakfast especially is a harried process, Sprite usually being given a baggie of cut up pancake or "purple cheerios" (Multigrain, but the box is purple, therefore she calls them purple, which means WE call them purple.) (This also explains why we say "throw out" instead of "up".) along with a travel cup of milk to snack on in the backseat while I wield the wheel and my coffee and get us to our destinations.

But the weekend? Oh, the weekend! We take our time. We wake up when Sprite wakes us up. She loves Saturdays for those are the days when she gets to take her meal with her cartoons. And every time we ask her what she wants, her response is always "cheerios. In a bowl. With milk. And a spoon."

John and I love this answer, first because it's so precise, second because it's so her, third because if you really think about it, cereal just isn't cereal without any one of those components.

We're one of the last hold outs we know to have a land line in the house since everyone basically uses cell phones these days and Internet. John wanted to join that growing population and stop paying forty bucks a month for a phone service which doesn't even have long distance (Why pay for the addition when your cell phone provides it as part of the contract?) and is actually a pretty crappy line. (The white noise is bad and has also served as a source of blame when I think the other person calling me is into the heavy breathing thing.) While I agreed that the phone wasn't really worth the money we were paying, I was still reluctant to give it up, 1. because if a hurricane blows through, a landline can be a lifesaver and 2. because a land line gives you roots, a home base, kind of like a security blanket, only with call waiting.

John has argued the point that our phone cable is above ground, so if we are besieged by Mother Nature, and the power goes out or the lines go down, our phone is going right along with it. As for my defense of the home base ideology, he told me to cut the umbilical cord.

Still, he withdrew his request every time he was met with resistance, and didn't push the issue. Until I did.

I am all about saving money so I decided to test out the phone myself. How many calls were we getting on it? Who was calling? Our parents? Sure, but they also have our cell phone numbers, that's not a big deal. No, the main callers were telemarketers and collection agencies.

Folks, we pay our bills on time and proactively, but after 2 weeks of monitoring the incoming calls, I counted fifty-five calls just from collectors asking for everyone BUT us. They've called looking for our neighbors, our extended family, (Why, yes, I DO happen to know a good number of people who owe money to creditors and aren't paying it forward. I just have yet to pass that news on to anyone, because really? Do you really want to get that call from me where I say, "Hey! How's it going? Listen, Chrysler called for you..."? ) even our former sister-in-law who's changed her last name to where anyone not using a very powerful search engine wouldn't even be able to tell there's only two degrees separating us from her. It's been very annoying to say the least, but I feel obligated to answer every single one of the calls I'm there to hear since I want to make sure they're not looking for US.

So, suffice it to say, and it took a long time to say it, we've been paying forty bucks a month for people to harrass us for services we don't want or to take a message because Tommy isn't paying his bank note.

I finally gave John the go ahead and we're taking out the land line.

He kept his happy "I told you so" dance down to a minute. (I didn't have time for the full show.)

And now I'm out of time!

But I know you have some time, so head over to Keely's to join the other randomizers. After all, it's Tuesday. You're just killing time until the weekend..

Spin Cycle: Knock knock..

Who's there?

Spin.

Spin who?

Peg over at Square Peg in a Round Hole

Alaina over at View from Down Here

-Updated Wednesday!

Shelby over at Gen X Moms -Updated Wednesday!

SuziCate over at The Water Witch's Daughter -Updated Wednesday!

Jan over at Jan's Sushi Bar -Updated Thursday!

Gretchen over at Second Blooming -Updated Thursday!

Mama Badger over at Out of the Boondocks and Into the Burbs... -Updated Thursday!

Stacy over at Stacy Uncorked -Updated Thursday!

Wanna get in on this joke? Spin up your laughter and chuck that chuckle on over here by Friday!

Spin Cycle: The Book of Why

Friday, September 17th, 2010

I feel sac-religious for even writing this.

But... here I am.

Tonight begins Yom Kippur, the sun is setting as I type, I shouldn't even be on the computer right now, however feel like I'm somehow getting around the rule since the computer has technically "been on" since earlier this afternoon before twilight signaled the end of the day and the beginning of the Day of Atonement.

Every year when this time comes around, always right before or after my birthday, sometimes, GASP, even ON my birthday, I get tense. I've never been good with Yom Kippur.

As a kid, and I know I've written this before, my sister and I were expected to play quietly, Legos were a Yom Kippur favorite, while my mom and dad literally shut themselves into a room with an air of "Let's get this over with". Lee and I were allowed to eat, easy meals like already made sandwiches and juice boxes were waiting for us in the fridge, but my parents would avoid food until sundown when they broke fast with something like gefilte fish. (Seriously nasty stuff unless baked.)

As the years passed, my sister and I joined the routine, taking to our rooms for quiet reflection or book reading or even a nap to help pass the time while waiting for the sun to trek across the sky. Looking back now, I think we were still too young to understand the concept at hand, even though my parents did try to explain it as plainly as possible. "Just ask forgiveness from God for all the wrong you've done this past year."

It was a lot for a ten year old to take on, or even to remember exactly what had landed me in my room for punishment beyond the last couple of months or so.

Now, I understand. At least I think I do.

I understand what I am supposed to do. I am supposed to sit in silence, I'm supposed to work on my relationship with God, with life, with myself. (Frankly, I don't take myself out enough, but that's an ongoing issue and kind of besides the point.) My major issue with this is why?

The major aspect of Yom Kippur is atoning for any and all transgressions against God or others, wiping the slate clean for the New Year, and hoping to be inscribed in the Book Of Life for the next year to be filled with sweet life instead of bitterness. Now, as my own personality stands, I respect honesty. If I am wrong or if I wrong another, I will be proactive about my guilt and apologize right away. So, if I have already sought forgiveness for any wrongdoing, why do I need to atone again come this day?

Why can't we ask forgiveness in more of a blanket statement? Why must it take all day? I do know that most of the rituals stem from tradition, our father's fathers and so forth, but I never understood why. Sure, I could ask a rabbi, my uncle is one, but he never really mastered the art of the conclusion, his stories could go on for years until I finally drift off and miss the point of the topic. (This may be where I get my penchant for tangents.)

I've also never understood why you can pray in your home, but it is preferred if you pray in a shul (temple). While I respect my religion, (even if these questions of why seem to say otherwise) I do not believe in paying exorbitant yearly dues for a reserved seat in Synagogue on the High Holy Days. (Seriously, the fees begin in the thousands and only go up from there. Even if I wanted to be the most observing of Jews, I couldn't afford it.)

Here's an even bigger question of why. If most of the God based religions (Judaism, Christianity, Catholicism, Jehovah's Witness, Jesuit, Mormon, and so many more) are based on the same book (the Old Testament or Torah in Hebrew), why are we so caught up in one upmanship of whose religion is better or more supreme?

Why are we so concerned with our religion being right? Right now?

My friend Robin told me something I keep going back to when I think about religion. She told me, "none of these Holy Wars will matter until the end. Only in the end will you come face to face with the truth." I asked her why she believed that her faith is the right faith (we're pretty open with each other and respect each other's faiths) and how she could be content in that knowledge when honestly? You just don't know. Her answer was so simple and so serene, "I'd rather live my entire life worshipping the way I do and be happy than worry about the end result. It's coming no matter what I do or say or how I pray. In the end, I'd rather be wrong than right." She has a great point.

I think my biggest why is one that has John stepping away just in case I get struck where I stand.

Why do we have religion in the first place? Why must we be so aware of God yet unaware of what He truly does for us?

I believe in God. I respect God. I honor God.

So why do I question God?

*******************************************************

Some brave Spinners!

Gretchen over at Second Blooming

Rhiannon over at Married With Chitlin -New to the Spin Cycle!

SuziCate over at The Water Witch's Daughter

Julie over at Modern Day Middle Age

Laufa over at Morgan Madness

Raven over at Superhero Extraordinaire

Mama Badger over at Out of the Boondocks and Into the Burbs...

Stacy over at Stacy Uncorked

Amber over at Monster Cookies

Eileen over at Giving Her All She's Got -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin! New to the Spin Cycle!

Heather over at Welch Happenings -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!

Erin over at Only a Movie -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!

Peg over at Square Peg in a Round Hole -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!

Arwen over at Spors in the Desert -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!

Jennifer over at The South Dakota Cowgirl -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!

Jan over at Jan's Sushi Bar -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!

Vandy over at The Testosterone Three and Me -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!

K over at Banterings of a Basketcase -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!

Carol over at Wanderings of an Elusive Mind -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!

Pseudo over at Winds of Change -Updated Saturday! Fresh Spin!

A heartfelt thank you to everyone for participating and especially for being so respectful. You all make the Spin Cycle worth doing!

*******************************************************

Next Week's Spin Cycle Assignment: Laughter

With this Spin Cycle being so loaded, how about some mood lifters?

What makes you laugh? Who makes you laugh? How does your funny bone get tickled?

Is your cutie a cut up? Does your living room coffee table become a stage?

Spin it up, cue the laugh track, and zing it on over by next Friday!

See you next week in the Spin Cycle!

Ruby

Meet my newest obsession. Sleek, red, and ready to mix it up.

Oh, yeah...

Give her some chrome exhaust pipes and I'd drive her to work.

Happy birthday to me.

If I were to get nothing else for my birthday for the rest of my life, I would still be happy with this.

(Of course, after sneaking onto the website and seeing how much it cost, I'm thinking the next five years at least are pretty much covered.)

(The ice cream attachment should set me back a few Hanukkah's, but it would be worth it.)

(I loved reading your wishes yesterday and have already sent my birthday wish out to the cosmos so that all of yours may be fulfilled. And thank you for the lovely comments. I had a wonderful birthday. If the rest of the 365 are like the 1st day of age 34, it's going to be a rocking year!)

Make my wish..

"Wow, look at the waves, Sprite. See the dog over there?"

"Hey, Jen?"

I looked back over from where I stood at the railing of the restaurant's deck, showing the beach activity to Sprite, trying to keep her entertained while John settled the bill. (Damn right, he paid.) Out of the corner of my eye, I could see people standing there, almost expectantly. One of them was holding a plate with a lit candle perched in the light colored cheesecake.

Looking back at John, I could only say, "Seriously?"

He smiled, more from the irony that they brought a wedge of glop cheesecake than from the joy of embarrassing me as I walked back to the table and allowed myself to be singled out, Sprite watching with more than ample interest.

The servers began to sing in broken English, "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear...."

They paused awkwardly, almost in unison, waiting for John, someone, ANYONE! to implant the name they would pronounce so they could finish the stupid song.

I locked that sound into my memory while John joined in a singsong voice, "JENNNNYYYYY..."

Ah, yes. I will remind him of this next year. I may even re-create it on his birthday.

Finally, it was over, the tables around us clapping politely until the blush receded from my cheeks.

I looked at the melting candle, then back at John. "Nice."

"Sorry. I didn't know it would be cheesecake."

We smiled at each other, Sprite bounding over.

"Mommy, is it your birthday?"

"Soon, hon."

"Can I blow out the candle?"

I held out my arms to invite her into my lap. "Sure. Can you make a wish?"

"No," John interjected, "let Mommy make a wish. It's her birthday."

"Nope. I don't need it. Sprite can have it."

As we coached Sprite on what exactly a wish was, (It turns out that Disney and its various references to wishing don't actually explain the key purpose of a wish other than Jiminy Cricket's voice hitting the high C's.) she still seemed like she didn't get it, (And why should she? She gets one of us in a weak mood and her want is our "here you go".) but went forward with the motions and extinguished the fire in a quick breath.

Once we left, we drove down the beachfront avenue for a while, enjoying the (FINALLY!) cool air while digesting our meal. (I would want ice cream later, but since I didn't eat the cheesecake, it was totally allowed.)

"Why didn't you make a wish?" John asked as he steered around the potholes in the construction area.

"I didn't need to."

"There's nothing you want?"

"Nope. I'm very happy with where I stand in life."

And it's true. Every time someone asks me what I would desire for my birthday, or the holidays, or Arbor Day, I tell them nothing. This drives John crazy since he's a giving sort of guy, but over time, he's come to accept that a good book or movie date will usually make me very happy. He used to buy me Target cards, but had to stop when he noticed I would spend them on Sprite or things for the home. Nothing for me.

One of the best things about this predicament I've placed John in is that he has actually learned to listen to me when I express a glimmer of excitement over anything. (You'll see why tomorrow.)

But truly, I am happy in love, happy in motherhood, happy in life. Sure, winning the lottery would be nifty and not having to work for the rest of my life, but I like my job. Plus, I've long ago stopped playing the game, putting my extraneous money towards something with better odds. Sure, I want another baby, quite badly, but I can't base my future disappointments or positive tests on a smoldering candle, can I? After all! It's a wish! They always come true! Right??? (Still smarting over the lack of results on last year's wish...)

When it comes down to the basics, I've got it made. Every morning I wake up next to my best friend, listening to the snuffling morning sounds of my daughter on the monitor, while the beagle snores beneath our bed, and Harry is scratching at John's feet to "take me out, dammit!" is a morning where my wish has come true.

I don't need a wish.

Do you need a wish?

We're budgeting like mad over here, so I haven't been able to give away anything in a very long time, but this seemed like the perfect thing to give.

I am giving you my birthday wish.

Make a wish. Any wish. Be as extravagent as you want, or minimalist and practical, whatever, just wish to your heart's desire. Leave your wish in the comment section and I will wish it for you.

Not much of a give away, but to have someone else's voice join your own in expressing what you want? Call it supplemental insurance. Without the monthly premium.

So happy birthday to me, happy wishing to you,
When I blow the candles on my cake, my wish is for yours to come true.

Happy Wednesday, everyone!

(Oh yeah, I did wish for the day off. And got it. So there is that...)

RTT: The kid is just like me. (Here's an apology.) And other things that rhyme with "e".

I've been told that sometimes I look stern when I'm talking to people, but I've known this for a while. One of my quirks, probably culled from years of trying to get around wearing glasses when I was younger until my parents FINALLY let me wear contacts, is that I tend to squint when concentrating on anyone or anything that needs my attention. This has evolved into furrowed brows and questioning responses from others who happen to look over and think I'm about to murder the computer screen or gearing up for a hissy over whatever book is open in front of me, but honestly, I'm just intently reading or concentrating or letting the wheels in my head turn since I am a visual learner by instinct. So no, I'm not intense. Just interested.
It shouldn't surprise me then that Sprite has been called out for doing the same thing in school. When she's working on a puzzle or absorbing something new, her brows furrow much like mine and her face takes on a formidable hue. Sometimes, her tongue even sticks out. I can't take credit for the tongue thing, although I think it's cute and convenient when I'm looking for someone to lick a stamp.

John decided to take us to the beach for dinner on Saturday night after a LONG quarantine (Got the results back from the doctor. No pox. Slight Impetigo. She's normal. Just ornery.) (We knew that part already.) so we could walk a little, breathe some fresh air, and look at something other than each other. Since we have a friend in the food business, we asked him for some suggestions on Fort Myers Beach. He texted back with his recommendations and we decided to go with his top pick, Junkanu, a cute multi-level restaurant with Gulf views and steps away from the water.
Once we received the menus, I noticed something called a Grouper Reuben. Folks, I love reuben sandwiches. Corned beef, swiss (which I actually don't like, but it works in this mess), sauerkraut, and 1000 Island dressing served warm on rye (another thing I don't like and will usually try to change if I can), you just can't go wrong. I also like Grouper so I decided, with egging from John, to take the plunge and deviate from my normal safe picks.
The meals came and I started to compile this monstrosity of a sandwich, the fried Grouper the main ingredient. Then I took a bite.
Let me sound exactly like a New York Jew (Hi, Mom!) when I say, in a whisper, "It wasn't good."
The manager, as if on cue, showed up as I finished chewing the first bite and put down the sandwich.
"And how is everything?"
I smiled weakly, cringed a little, (the fish was very chewy and tough), and picked up my napkin.
"Is there something wrong?"
I looked up at the manager who was leaning toward me and took the honest approach. "I'm sorry. This isn't very good."
His brows furrowed in concern. (You know, come to think of it, he looked a little pissed. Maybe Sprite and I are not the only ones who do this?) "It's not good?"
"The grouper. It's very tough and dry."
"But this is fresh."
I smiled, my brows going up in surrender. "I'm sorry." (Yeah, I apologize for a lot of things that are not my fault.)
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sorry." (Dude got 3 apologies out of me.)
"It came in fresh this morning." His hand moved to take over my plate.
I shook my head. "I'm sorry, I just don't like it." (A fourth!)
I declined a replacement meal, content to share in John's steak and chicken fajitas, which were actually some of the best I've ever tasted. Maybe not a good night for fish?
We both noticed that Sprite's chicken tenders were also very tough and stringy so chances are whoever was working the fry-ilator wasn't keeping an eye on time.
By the end of dinner, I was ready to get the hell out of there, but John, in his loving way, decided I should be embarrassed with a birthday serenade by the staff who brought me a candle glistening brightly on the top of.... key lime cheesecake. (That's right. I detest cheesecake. I guessed correctly that John did not have a choice in what they would bring when he decided to request this little surprise.)
I put on a brave face and took a few bites out of the graham cracker crust to make it look like I liked it, because I was already THAT customer, but the dessert stayed mostly intact for the server to take away.
Next time we go out, we're staying in.

No, my birthday is tomorrow. John just decided to jump the gun.

"Hey, Jen."
"What's up?"
"Your daughter is getting to be a smartass just like you."
"Wait. I'll update the baby book.."
"No, her moment was better. We were at Toys R Us-"
"You took her to Toys R Us?"
"Yes."
"How much did you spend?"
"Relax. She got an umbrella."
"Okay, go on."
"We were walking around the store and you know how she gets when she doesn't watch where she's going."
"Yeah?"
"And she walked right into a woman. And I told her to apologize to the lady since she bumped right into her. And she just walked over to me and shook her head."
"She got shy?"
"Partly. As the woman walked around us, she told me, 'We don't talk to strangers, Daddy'."
"Yep, that's my kid."

Wait, I need something that rhymes with "e" or this RTT will make no sense...

What else rhymes with "e"?

KEELY!!!!

Go off and be random.

Spin Cycle? Or Sin Cycle?

What, going too far?

Nevertheless, here's our first brave Spinner!

Gretchen over at Second Blooming

Rhiannon over at Married With Chitlin -New to the Spin Cycle!

SuziCate over at The Water Witch's Daughter

-Updated Tuesday!

Julie over at Modern Day Middle Age -Updated Tuesday!

Laufa over at Morgan Madness -Updated Thursday!

Raven over at Superhero Extraordinaire -Updated Thursday!

Mama Badger over at Out of the Boondocks and Into the Burbs... -Updated Thursday!

Stacy over at Stacy Uncorked -Updated Thursday!

Amber over at Monster Cookies -Updated Thursday!

Remember, the topic is religion! Seek your Spinning Sanctuary here!

(Oh, so early in the New Year and already so much for atone for...)

A Pox on Thee (or at least your weekend)

Lunchtime. I locked my computer and reached for my purse. Checking the cell, I realized I had missed a call.

Daycare.

Fun..

Hitting the callback option, I waited for the school to answer. "Uh, hi. This is Sprite's mom. It seems I missed a call?"

"Oh, yes. Hold on. The director wants to speak to you."

That's never good. 

Immediately, the call was picked up again. "Hello! It's not an emergency, but-"

Okay. Let me interrupt here. Why can't there ever be a GOOD reason to call the parents? "Hi, I just wanted to let you know what a pleasure your child is. She just makes our day brighter. That's the only reason for this call. Oh! And because your child is such a sweetheart, we'll be lowering her tuition by fifty dollars a week if that's all right with you."

What, too much?

All right, back to the story..

"-Sprite has developed some bumps on her legs and has been itching them all morning. Now, since we have had one confirmed case of chicken pox in her class, we need to err on the side of safety and would like for you or your husband to come pick her up."

Oh boy.

"Okay, give me an hour. I'll pick her up."

As soon as I punched "end call", I dailed John. "What's red and bumpy and itchy all over?"

"Hopefully not Sprite."

"I got the call. Can you set up an appointment with the pediatrician while I wrap things up here?"

"Sure. Call you back."

*******************

"Mommy?" Sprite's glazed eyes focused on me from her prone spot on her mat.

I smiled, taking in her sleepy look, her green blanket, and the five band-aids now covering the backs of her legs. "Would you like to come with me?"

"Oh. Okay."

"Ssh, everyone's still sleeping," I motioned to the other quiet children and she nodded, going off with her teacher to use the bathroom while I gathered her things, including her weekly bag. Being that it was Thursday, chances were looking better that Friday would not be a school day for her. Depending on what the doctor said of course..

We walked out together, hand in hand, passing the director and office manager.

"Keep us updated!" the director called out, "feel better, Sprite!"

We waved as we exited, Sprite turning back to me. "Why did you come for me?"

"We're going to the doctor."

"I'm not sick. I'm okay."

"I know, but you have some bumps on your legs and they think-"

She stopped and pointed her finger at me. "I don't have the chicken pox!"

Me thinks she's heard this before. "Calm down. We're just getting you checked out then we're going home."

"It's not chicken pox."

"That's what I'm betting on."

************************

"Who told you this was chicken pox?"

"I DON'T HAVE THE CHICKEN POX!"

I looked over from Sprite's angry face to the doctor who was peering at me intently.

"There's one confirmed case in her class. About a week ago."

He looked back at his computer screen and typed a few keys. "It's not in the CDC database. And if it wasn't reported to the CDC, then it's not chicken pox."

"Okay, then what is it?" This doctor was already rubbing me the wrong way with his lack of personality, I just wanted an answer as to why she had gone in to school with one bump on the back of her leg that had now graduated to six, and I was finding more as we sat in the exam room.

"It could be Impetigo."

There was a new one on me. "I've never heard of it."

His incredulous face only cemented our imminent breakup. (It's not me. It's him.) "It's a bacterial skin infection, what do you mean you've never heard of it?"

(That's it. I'm not even waiting for dessert to dump his ass.)

Continuing, he finished his typing and pushed away from the desk. "We'll get cultures for both chicken pox and Impetigo, the second round of the chicken pox innoculation and a flu shot. The nurse will bring in a script for a topical cream. Treat it like it's Impetigo. If it's chicken pox, then we'll report it to the CDC like we're supposed to do."

(Check, please.)

He exited as the nice nurse entered with the needles and an apologetic look on her face. If he had pissed me off, she was sure as hell not going to make Sprite's good list.

*********************************

Friday and Saturday passed in a blur, John working both days while I supervised several renditions of Sleeping Doody meets Snow White meets Rapunzel meets the pull toy I forgot to remove from her toy chest the last go round. (Who knew that thing would have a resurrection in popularity? Yay for laziness.)

By Saturday night, after two days of homebound quarantine "just in case" for a child who didn't look or act sick, which included one tantrum over not going to dance class, a high pitched dramatic uproar over not going to Elizabeth's birthday party, ("But I have to give Elizabeth her PRESENT!"), and my own halfhearted attempts to actually observe Yom Kippur, I was ready to get out of Dodge. In the Dodge.

We took the van over to the beach for a dinner out, letting Sprite see the sunset over the Gulf, and just shaking the dust off the weekend.

She's in school today, John and I are bound and determined that it was just a case of bug bites gone wrong, since we followed doctor's orders and nothing came of the bumps. Even without the note, since the doctor refused to diagnose a pox, and since the areas are completely scabbed over, we're not too concerned with contagions.

We're also pretty sure both cultures will come back negative, with a big co-pay attached as well. And the only one breaking out after that will be me.

So how was YOUR weekend?

Spin Cycle: Education for the Masses

My dad graduated college when I was sixteen. I remember sitting in the crowded rows with my mother, sister, and grandfather, waiting for what seemed like an eternity until they finally got to the R's, which would mean my dad would be taking the stage.

They called his name and I stood up along with my mom to catch a glimpse of the faraway man, not even knowing if he was the man shaking the president's hand or the robed figure who was exiting the stage before him. All I know is that we hooped and hollered for all we were worth to let him know we were there. He may not have been able to see us, but he would surely hear us and our pride.

It had been a long road for all of us, endless years of "Is Dad in class tonight?", Mom taking on the role of a single mother, my father losing hours of sleep a night to studying, weekends becoming a catch all of parenthood for giving Mom a break and making sure we kids knew he was there for us, even if the textbooks (with resident highlighter) remained a constant reminder in the background of what he needed to be doing as well.

He really didn't HAVE to back to school. He was already established in his field, but felt, to get ahead, he would need that coveted four year degree. He would also be the first one in his family to finish college so there was that personal goal as well. It took him eight years of night courses, a full time job, and his most important priority, his family, to reach the finish line.

I found it poetic that ten years later, almost to the day, our roles reversed as I walked that same stage, in the same auditorium, along with my fellow R's, even though my name had already legally been changed to Cohen. I only knew the general area of where they were sitting, my parents, husband, and best friend, but as my name was called, I could hear them.

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Extra credit goes to:

 

Kendra over at Life in the Slow Lane

Amber over at Monster Cookies

Erin over at Only a Movie -Outdoors Spin!

Peg over at Square Peg in a Round Hole

KJ over at When In Doubt, Dance It Out

Beloved over at Jan's Sushi Bar -New to the Spin Cycle! (Sort of.)

Gretchen over at Second Blooming

M.A.W. over at Unmitigated....

SuziCate over at The Water Witch's Daughter

Alaina over at View From Down Here

Aimee over at In THIS Life

Stacy over at Stacy Uncorked

Erin over at Only A Movie

M.A.W. over at Unmitigated -Part II!

Tulpen over at Bad Words -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!

Arwen over at Spors in the Desert -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!

Vandy over at The Testosterone Three and Me -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!

Mama Badger over at Out of the Boondocks and Into the Burbs... -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!

Laufa over at Morgan Madness -Updated Friday! Fresh Spin!

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Next Week's Spin Cycle: Religion.

That's right, I'm going there. (And if you choose to go there, please be respectful of others.)

Tonight at sundown marks the beginning of Yom Kippur.  Through tomorrow night, sunset again, I will be observing this holiday with support from my Gentile husband and refraining from using the computer.

(You can see Wikipedia's explanation of Yom Kippur above or mine. You can quote the Wiki-World, but Mine is funnier.)

(Oh! And here's the time I completely missed Yom Kippur! And an RTT to boot!)

Now, during this timeframe, I have time for a lot of reflection on life, love, religion in particular. I often wonder about the other religions out there and how people feel. (This makes for some interesting conversations with John.)

So, how do you feel about religion? Are you devout in your faith? More agnostic based on your upbringing or your observances? Have you converted from one to another due to a life changing event or because of marriage?

Have you changed the way you view faith over the years? Or has faith changed YOU over the years?

(Remember again, we have a lot of people in this world with differing views of religion and even life in general. Please refrain from bashing faiths or singling out others. While I'm doing this to gain better perspective of religion and others' thoughts and feelings, I still want to respect you in the morning. If I read anything that seems malicious, I will question it and refuse it for the Spin Cycle.)

Have a wonderful weekend, folks and I'll see you next week in the Spin Cycle!