Wisdom from a cookie

I really love fortune cookies.

I really love fortune cookies.

The Beans and I have begun a tradition…of sorts. On Friday nights, we go and have sushi (bank account willing, of course) at our favorite spot. Often, it’s just us girls, as The Man is usually working…to pay the bill…lol 🙂 No matter what everybody orders, the meal always ends with the same thing: FORTUNE COOKIES. Truth be told, it’s my favorite part, but I rarely give the little slips of paper much thought after reading them. Unless we happen to be blessed with pearls of knowledge that look like the ones above.

These were our fortunes one of the last time we went to Zen, a favorite spot. Gotta love a restaurant with that name, right? I was so impressed by the treasure trove of wisdom, I snapped a picture. And now I’m writing about what each statement means in reference to the one who pulled it from its crescent-shaped cookie.

 

It’s important to you that money not be important. 

This was mine, and it couldn’t be more true. Personally, I would prefer returning to the days of bartering for goods and services. Money fuels too much of our lives, and I can’t stand being dependent upon it. If there’s not enough, people are unhappy. If there’s too much, people are unhappy. Where is the balance? There isn’t one, as far as I can see. Money can’t buy happiness. Sure, it can serve as a band-aid for a much deeper seeded issue. But at the end of the day, the wound is still there, festering underneath.  Honestly, I believe my family is better off without an abundance of the nation’s currency. That being said, if I won the lottery…I’d cash the check. And go eat sushi.

It’s time you asked that special someone out on a date.

Sugar Bean pulled this one. Still scratching my head over what it’s meaning could be. Seriously…she’s fourteen. She can’t date. Hell, I don’t even allow her to wear makeup to school. Apparently, this one needs some time to reach its full potential. Three years sounds about right, don’t ya think?

If you have knowledge, let others light their candles by it.

Since this one belonged to Butter Bean, I can only assume it’s a reference to the fact that she’s our family’s math whiz. On several occasions during the last school year, she actually helped Sugar Bean with her math homework. She was in third grade, and SB was in seventh. Therefore, Butter Bean kept SB’s candle lit by sharing her mathematical genius! Thus, saving SB’s butt from being grounded under less than favorable math grades. Go figure.

It’s not the plan that is important, it’s the planning.

Ahh….Sweet Pea….my planner. Always coming up with elaborate schemes and agendas from the depths of her imagination. She makes calendars, books, drawings, etc….all depicting grand plans for us and her friends. And it keeps her occupied for hours. Which gives mama time to clean house, workwrite or play on Facebook. Yes, it’s all in the planning 🙂

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Shout out to FRESH BROTHERS PIZZA!!

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It’s no secret that when I plan things, Murphy’s Law kicks into high gear and throws a curve ball the size of the moon. So I usually just trust the wings I have growing out of my butt, and fly by the seat of my pants. It works for us, so probably best not to tempt fate too often, right? On occasion though, it is necessary to deviate from our mellow, go with the flow lifestyle in order to enjoy one day only, special events (hint: Murphy doesn’t take the day off.)

This past Saturday was one such day. I planned for our family tribe to attend an event at the latest location of FRESH BROTHERS PIZZA in Hollywood. The event was for MomsLA contributors and promised to be awesome….packed with pizza making, face-painting and all around fun. The Man and The Beans were ecstatic when I told them, so off we went!

It was scheduled for 11am and we arrived around 11:15. Much to my surprise, we were the only ones there…..except, of course Murphy and that Law Book. I approached the counter and confidently introduced myself to the manager, announcing we were there for the event. He looked at me with a bit of surprise, and asked if we’d booked a private party. Wait…what?!!  When I explained, he immediately got on the phone with Debbie Goldberg, one of the owners, while I whipped out my phone and logged into FB to check the original posting, and see if I’d completely lost my mind (don’t answer that). Turned out, the event was rescheduled for September….but of course, I’d missed that detail. Yeah…I’m a bonehead, and this is a sparkling example.

Not to worry though. Debbie and I chatted briefly on the phone, and she said for us to have a blast…lunch was on FRESH BROTHERS! I couldn’t believe it. The mix-up was completely my mistake, and she went out of her way to fix it. That is the ultimate in customer service!! The staff rolled out the red carpet of hospitality, and we had THE BEST TIME! The Beans made pizza, The Man watched sports, and I took pictures. A fabulous day was had by all!!

playing with dough

playing with dough

ingredients for perfect pizza making

ingredients for perfect pizza making

The Man, The Beans and some quality pizza making

The Man, The Beans and some quality pizza making

YUMMY!!!

YUMMY!!!

Oh, and the pizza?  To be honest, I’ve never been much of a pizza fan…so it takes  a lot to impress me when it comes to that particular cuisine. But I can, without any hesitation at all, say it was the YUMMIEST I HAVE EVER TASTED! Fresh Brothers has shown me the light…lol. In fact, I told The Man I would be ordering it often, and he would be picking it up on his way home from work 🙂

Again, I can’t thank Debbie and her staff enough. What a way to make me look like a hero in front of my tribe!

 

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Hurling Jello

If only my jello looked like this!

If only my jello looked like this!

 

You knew it was bound to happen, right? After all, it wouldn’t be fair to leave you hanging with just a list of the 5 Best Things About Being in the Hospital.  And, given the fact…

I’m. Still. Here.

…with nothing to do but read, write, play Criminal Case on FB, watch really bad television, and give The Man the stink eye when he shows up to have ‘lunch with me’ and brings a sandwich and FRENCH FRIES for himself, knowing I can’t have even one!  Whaaaatever. Karma is a bitch, and she’s my BFF. So there.

Anyway, I’ve decided to comprise a list of The Worst Things About Being in the Hospital. Notice there’s not a number attached, as I really can’t say how long this list will be. I’ve been here 6 days now. Could take a lil’ bit. So, pour a glass of wine or grab a fruity cocktail, maybe some chips & guacamole…or one of the other 8,472,931 edible things I can’t have…sit back, relax and enjoy!

In no particularly order, I present to you my idea of the worst parts about the forced hiatus from my life. Ta-da!!!

Food and Beverage Commercials- Believe me, I understand the power of advertising, but have you ever noticed how many commercials on television are food/beverage related? Probably not, because unless you are in the hospital on a liquid diet, you can choose (or not) to have anything that happens to flash on that screen. At first, I thought I was just sensitive to it, because I’m starving. Uh…no. I counted them. During one commercial break, there were 5 spots: one for chocolate, one for burgers, one for chips, one for Jello (isn’t that ironic?) and one for Applebee’s. I let the last one slide, because my friend Maribeth is the star 🙂 The last time my nurse came in to check on me and ask if I needed anything, I told her she could call the networks and politely instruct them to temporarily suspend the run of any and all food/beverage/restaurant commercials until I get sprung from this joint. She giggled.

I was dead serious.

Vampires- I know, I know…phlebotomists. Yes…I respect the need for them in the hospital. After all they are specialists at what they do. However, it doesn’t make me loathe their 4am, needle-wielding,  wake-up calls any less. Perhaps if all of them looked like Robert Pattinson, or the guys from True Blood, I would be less grumpy about the visits. Okay, that’s a lie. Anyone that wakes me up just to stick me, drain me, and leave me is never received with open arms regardless of the time of day. Oh, and overall…their bedside manner SUCKS.

Noises- There are more than half a dozen separate sounds I can hear at the moment: my IV pump, the air conditioner (very noisy), the nurses relaying chart information, the lady next door yelling “Somebody help me, I gotta get up!” (I think she may be in the wrong unit, if catch my drift), the hospital PA system announcing a “Code Pink” (it’s a drill, I asked),  an alarm on one of the elderly patients’ beds that plays the tune of “Old MacDonald” incessantly and various other beeps, bells and dings. It’s maddening….even with my DOOR SHUT. I will admit to the temptation of actually recording it. After all, The Man does post-production sound effects for film, and this stuff would be GOLDEN to have in his sound library. Then I remembered about the french fries.

Sheets and Pillows- Now before you go thinking I’m some diva, requiring Eygptian cotton, 5000 thread count (do those even exist?) sheets, and goose down pillows like the ones at a 5-star hotel….don’t. Totally not me. I followed The Dead in college and am perfectly happy sleeping in a tent with an air mattress, covered with a COTTON SHEET and a pillow that just doesn’t run from its pillowcase. The pillows here are covered in plastic, and I understand why…but I don’t have to like them, do I? The only thing that irritates me more than having my bed linens wrinkly and in a bunch is feeling little ‘pills’ on them. It happens on…you guessed it…50/50 poly-cotton blend fabric. And wouldn’t you know it….the place designed to keep me bedridden and resting uses these sheets! For the love of all things holy….that’s why 100%, no-iron, cotton percale sheets exist. Get a clue, hospital admin people.

Bathing- I’ve been here 5 nights and 6 days now, and had 2 showers. All the days in between, I smelled like a dirty hippie. You know why? Because bathing myself with basically one arm is almost impossible. You see, I have this pesky IV in my left arm and they put it right in the bend of my elbow (big fat, juicy vein there) so I can’t bend my arm. Plus, to take a shower it has to be wrapped in plastic and made waterproof with tape that MacGyer would die to have in his tool pouch. Medical tape is the first cousin to Duct Tape, I believe. Seriously. And forget about washing my hair. Just couldn’t happen. So what do you think is at the top of my “To Do List” once I get out?

Peeing every 20 minutes- Since I was beyond dehydrated when I came in, I’ve had constant fluids running through me the entire time. And between The Liquid Diet (see next item on list) and the fluids, I haven’t peed this much since I was preggo with Sweet Pea. Up and down, up and down. Every 20 to 30 minutes. It’s exhausting, and painful, given the nature of my illness.  Again, I understand the benefits, but I thought I was supposed to rest here. Hello, catheter anyone?

The Liquid Diet- Remember how I talked about loving Jello in this post?  Well, you can forget all that BS. Because I’ve got a bit of strength back now, and I’m fairly certain the next tray that comes through my door sporting a fancy little plastic dish full of that translucent, colorful shit is going to be hurled at the wall. That goes for its equally nasty friend gelato too. Maybe I can say I was redecorating, and I thought the walls needed some modern “artwork” 🙂

Luigi, please go back to chasing Mario, will ya?

Luigi, stick with your partner Mario and go back to your day job, will ya?

***On a serious note though, the MOST EXCRUCIATING thing about being here is missing The Beans. The hospital will not allow the littles to come up and visit. Sugar Bean barely made the age requirement herself, and only came once, on Saturday for about 15 minutes. I think seeing me here spooked her and I didn’t press her to come back. If all goes well, I’ll be out this afternoon, have my babies in my arms and go back to life as usual in a few days. Okay, maybe not ‘as usual’, since that got me here in the first place. I’ll be making some adjustments so I can continue to entertain y’all with the adventures of my life from anywhere but here!

 

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Top 10 Phrases The Beans Say Contributing to My Insanity

I.Dare.You.

Everybody has pet peeves. You know, the stuff other people do that drives them batty. If by chance you are shaking your head ‘no’ and nothing bothers you, then I want both the name of the doctor you are seeing and the medication he has you on. What? You think I’m joking? Get me that info….STAT. 

Oh and unless you gave birth to rosy-cheeked, angelic and chubby, winged creatures, chances are your kids are the masters at pushing your peevy buttons. I know mine are. Experts at their craft, I tell you. Since boarding school is out of my price range  I love them more than life itself, I decided today was the day to bitch about it  by making a list of the almost daily, verbal annoyances they utter in their multi-layered plot to drive me over the edge. Here goes….

Top 10 Phrases The Beans Say (almost) Everyday,

Contributing to My Insanity

 

10. Did you wash my _________? 

This is generally in reference to P.E. clothes, and blurted out moments before we are heading to school on Monday morning. They had ALL WEEKEND to make sure this happened, and yet….they wait until the last possible second. Inevitably I end up frantically washing, drying and delivering them to the school in record time, totally screwing up my morning. I mean, God forbid she has to borrow some from the loaner bin for ONE freaking day! Oh, the horror!

9. Can I have _________? 

This could be a request for anything from a new toy or a new pet, to much larger things like….a trampoline. None of which are needed.

8. Mama, where’s my _______? 

Well, how am I supposed to know? It doesn’t belong to me. Did you look for it? NO. You asked me because I have a built-in GPS called a uterus. Oh, and this one doesn’t just come from The Beans. The Man joins the party on this one as well. Oh joy! 

7. But _______’s mom/dad let’s him/her do it. 

Well good for them! Too bad they aren’t your parents. Wanna see if they’ll adopt you? No. Okay…moving on then.

6. I can’t find a pencil. 

This might be the one that sends me to the asylum, since it comes out of Sweet Pea’s or Butter Bean’s mouth every day. No lie. And I have bought every kind of pencil there is…Ticonderogas, mechanical ones, sparkly ones….you name them, and we’ve owned them. I even sharpen them and put them in the designated spot. And yet….there is never one around come homework time. There has to be a pencil-eating monster living in my house, and I’ll bet he was invited by the little bastard troll who eats socks in the dryer. That’s the only explanation.

5. Will you bring me some ________? 

Last time I checked, every child I birthed has a working pair of legs. So wtf is this about? Always when I am busy doing something important only to me–blogging, Facebooking, Twittering, reading–or worse, after I have already settled into bed for the night. *Sigh*

4. Are we going somewhere fun today? 

This is mainly on the weekends, and stems from the fact that The Man and I have created tiny beings who constantly need to be entertained. Our attempts at being crowned “Mom & Dad of the Millenium” clearly biting me/us right square in the ass. Oh well, at least I can admit it, right? And that’s the first step towards recovery if I’m not mistaken. “Hello, my name is Nancy….”

3. Mama, _______ is _________!! 

Tattle-taling is the bane of my existence. Unless whatever is happening is a violent attempt to end your life, work it out. You are not snitches-in-training. Simply denying you a toy you had no interest in before she picked it up, does not constitute an emergency. When blood is drawn, someone is unconscious or the house is on fire…..tattle. Otherwise, build a bridge and get the eff over it!

2. I’m bored. 

Never fails. Everyday, this comes out of every small mouth in the house. Repeatedly. How on earth can this even be in their realm of thinking? They have every electronic gadget known to man, enough books to fill a library, art supplies out the wazoo, scooters, bikes, roller skates….even a dang POGO STICK!! And we live within walking distance of a park. How can they be bored??????

And the NUMBER ONE PHRASE THAT BUGS THE PISS OUT OF ME…

1. I’m hungry. 

All. the. time. I could have just returned from the mother of all grocery store shopping extravaganzas and inevitably, one of them will open the fridge and say “I’m hungry, and there’s nothing to eat.”  The Man also frequently dumps gasoline on this fire too.

WTF?? I quit. 

 

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