Heart Times

           I have been asked for more detail about our son’s heart surgery. But you know this is going to come with Richie’s trademark comedy.

          Here are the deets: Despite being only 41, he needed a double bypass due to blocked arteries (bad genetics he was told).  But even open heart surgery couldn’t stop him from finding the funny.  When asked for his blood type, he said, "A Plus."  Then, when another nurse told him how wonderful he was as a patient, Richie whispered to us, “Yeah, but most of their patients are in their 90s, so that’s a pretty low bar.”

          I’ve been trying to convince him to recuperate at our house instead of his, without much success.  When I told him about a great new TV show, I said, “So when you’re at our house recuperating, you can watch it.” He said, “I see what you did, there.”

          I also told him it's a miracle he's alive, that God must have a special purpose for him.  

          "I hope it's more than one," he said, "because otherwise if you accomplish that one thing, it's well, off you go."

          Bob and I saw a cute nurse with loads of personality and after she left the room we pointed out that she didn’t have a wedding ring. Eyebrows up and down.  Richie rolled his eyes, then later texted that she must have overheard us, because the next time she came in she was talking about her boyfriend.  Oops.

          At one point he was saying his car needs a new drive shaft. Bob began singing the old Texaco jingle, “You can trust your car to the man who wears the star…” and I joined in.  Then I glanced over at Richie in his hospital bed.  He was muttering, “Old people.”

          Three days after, when a friend asked how he felt, he said, "Well, the first day I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. On the second day I felt like I'd been kicked by a horse. And today it feels like I bicycled into a telephone pole." So... progress?

          He’s been discharged, and is now following orders not to drive, lift, push, pull, twist, or reach. And you don’t think I want to monitor this?

Check out my Youtube Mom videos, full of amazing life hacks. But you probably won’t find one about how to back off when your son has heart surgery.

Cake Mistake

           Oh my gosh. Just last week I showed you how to make a great fake cake, and now I’m showing a ghastly real one.

                  Seriously, if I hadn’t told you it was a cake, you’d have thought it was some kind of geode, right? Or maybe some winter sludge under someone’s car.

          But no. It’s a German chocolate cake for our eldest son’s birthday. Actually the cake turned out fine. But I couldn’t leave well enough alone, and decided to write “Richie” on top. 

          I promise my house is not a furnace, yet the lettering melted as if I’d held a blow torch on it. Nicole asked if I had used glue.  Yes, I said. White Elmer’s Glue. (!!!)                                                                         

          St. Bob wondered if I was grouting the cake. 

          But our son is a great sport and was happy to blow out candles and enjoy it anyway.

          And, just so this post isn’t completely devoid of information, I will tell you that German chocolate cake isn’t even German. It was invented in 1852 by a U.S. baker named Samuel German (with a hard G). But once printed in the newspapers, everyone pronounced it like the nationality.

          So… Happy Birthday, all you November folks. Eat up!

And it’s time to grab 10 or 15 inexpensive gifts for teachers, friends, hairdressers, you know the drill. My book, “A Little Christmas Prayer,” is perfect for everyone (and perfect for any budget)!

In the Pen?

        The three younger grown kids bought Richie, the eldest, a fabulous fountain pen for his birthday. First they sent an inkwell for him to have while he anticipates the pen’s arrival.

          Richie texted, “Wow, thank you so much for the birthday present, everyone! This is just amazing.  I can’t wait to write with it.”

          The others responded with gladness, and eagerness for him to try it out. But they couldn’t simply leave it there.

          Brandon: In the meantime, you can just finger paint with the ink.

          Richie: Ha—people will think I tried to rob a bank and got hit with a dye pack.

          Brandon: Yeah! They’ll think you’re a super cool bank robber. Everyone loves a heist.

          Nicole: Sounds like this is going to open a lot of doors for you.

          So if you see a guy who is possibly too tall for the mug shot measurement lines, and he has black ink on his hands, 

just know that he wasn’t actually robbing a bank; he was finger painting.

          Have you ordered your copies of A Little Christmas Prayer, yet? I’m telling you, it’s the ideal gift for anyone, of any age, and of any faith. Rock-bottom price, too (and the Kindle version is just 99 cents)!

Kids!

         For Thanksgiving this year St. Bob and I went to restaurant with our eldest son, Richie. This is a recipe for comedy as I was flanked by a comedian on either side.

          At least there was a ninja nearby clearing tables, so I felt somewhat safe.

          We were laughing about how many times the waiter had told us his name, and Richie said maybe he waits on a lot of old people, and has to keep reminding them.

          “I hope I never get like that,” I said.

          Richie said, “That’s the fifth time you’ve said that today.”

          And now you know what it’s like to live in Joniopolis.

          Hey, it’s officially Christmastime, so stock up on my latest book—perfect for adults or kids of any faith—A Little Christmas Prayer.  Super low price, too!

The Boy is Back!

             Cue the trumpets.  

             Our eldest son has moved home.  Okay, granted, he does not want to do this.  Granted, he described this as “extremely temporary” while he looks for a job as a geologist, fresh out of UC Davis with his degree.  Granted, when I begged him to move home several months ago, all you could hear were crickets.

            But I’m so excited I’m giddy.  Just think of all the Scrabble games, jokes, stories, outings, discussions about the universe, and reasons to make more pies. 

Yesterday a friend of his came over and we cooked, played games, watched TV, and visited all day.  I am in my comfort zone, square and center.  (And it doesn’t hurt that he can offer me computer help on demand.  I mean on request.)

            Truth be told, I wish all my kids could do this.  I have no problem refilling my nest and only wish I could turn back the clock and raise them all over again.  Of course, none of them want to be parented anymore, but that actually works for me, because all I really want to do is play with them, anyway. 

            On holidays I get a little glimpse of the fun this would be, with Christmas music blaring and everyone bustling in the kitchen.  Some of the kids are designing the gingerbread house, 

our daughter is rolling out the Norwegian Lefse she learned to make on her mission, fudge is being stirred, Bratseli cookies are steaming in their waffle iron, 

the red velvet cake is made, 

games are underway, and the dog is running around in a Santa suit.

Organized chaos with everyone laughing—that’s heaven, right?

            “Grown children don’t want to hang out with their parents,” I was warned by a friend.  “He’s going to be gone more than he’s going to be there.”  Yes, I realize there’s a more realistic side to this twinkling coin of mine.  And that is exactly why parents have the washing machines, beds, refrigerators and WiFi that gives the kids an excuse to come over.  And did I mention pie?

Have you subscribed to my YouTube Mom channel here, yet?  Among other life skills on there, I can show you how to make absolutely killer pies.  Check it out!