Extra Advice

Just wanted to offer some friendly advice...

If you have a five year old who loves to talk, you might not want to dream that it's even possible to distract her enough that you can use the phone.  If you press you luck and attempt to make a phone call, you will get an automated message, and the computer will ask you a series of yes/no verbal response questions.  This will occur at the same exact time your five year old has to ask 1,000 yes/no questions that she just has to have answered right that very second.  And it will royally screw your attempt to get things done.  Did you know those things can pick up a whisper? 

An Extra Thought or Two

Do you ever see something that makes you think about a fellow blogger?  The longer I blog, the more I find things that make me think of people I don't even really know.  It's really kind of strange.  

Near my old house, there was a place called Daisy Nails.  Every time I passed it, I'd think about Daisy's blog.  If we eat at Outback, sometimes Katie's blog will dance through my mind.  I saw a salty nut roll at the grocery store a few days ago, and I nearly laughed out loud because of Kim.  There are several other things or places that make me think of other bloggers too. I don't do this on a daily basis (yet), but it does happen often enough that it's made me wonder if the rest of y'all do it too.

On a related note, I saw a picture of a guy on a blog recently who looked incredibly similar to my best guy friend in high school.  We had an amazing friendship that actually lasted into college even though we didn't attend the same schools.  He made it very clear that he wanted more than a friendship, but I really wasn't interested. Looking back, I think it was really a maturity thing. All the girls went wild over him, and I think in an incredibly immature way, I liked that I had a guy friend that the rest of the world wanted who would do anything for me at anytime.  I was scared I'd lose that if we dated and broke up.  

We spent as much time as possible together, and my parents adored him (thankfully or they'd never have let me out the house that much).  In college, every time I decided I wanted my furniture to be rearranged, he come over to do it.  And we could talk for hours without an uncomfortable lull in the conversation.  

We don't really keep in touch anymore, but if either one of us sees a mutual friend, the first thing out of their mouths is to tell us how the other is doing.  On the rare time that we do see each other, we talk as though it's been no time at all.  

Well, I was shocked to have a dream with him in it last night.  This morning, I thought and thought about where on earth that could have come from, and it finally occurred to me that I saw a picture of somebody that looked like him in on a blog. Once again, blogs invade my thoughts.  

So, is there anything that ever makes you think about another blogger?  

Extra Old. Or Extra Rude. You be the Judge.

I've never really felt my age. Or perhaps I've never felt the way I thought my age should feel.  I may have felt it a little when the ultrasound guy made a comment about my age (which, by the way, I'm NOT old enough for yearly ones yet!), but in general, I really don't feel much different than I did ten years ago. Sometimes I feel a little wiser, but that's more of an experience thing than anything else.

Saturday afternoon made me stop and think though.  We ate lunch out while we were running errands.  We ate at a sit-down restaurant, not fast food.  While we were eating, a girl came in wearing gym shorts and a tank top with her hair in huge rollers with clips holding each roller.  I totally understand that she may have been getting married later that afternoon, or had some other reason that she needed/wanted her hair done, but to be honest, I found it rather gross (the hair curlers, not the gym shorts and tank top).  If she wanted to run into McDonalds and get her food to go with her hair like that, fine, but we weren't in a McDonalds-like place.  

It's not that I've never used curlers; I have, but I surely never went to a sit down restaurant with them in my hair!  And like I said, it wasn't fast food, not that fast food would have made it better.

After we left, Linus commented on it. Army and I discussed it, and we both found it odd. Then we began to wonder if we've become those people...the older people who find fault with the younger generation. And then OH NO! We realized we're not the younger generation anymore.  Yikes! Maybe we're old!

So, opinions? Are we old, or would you find this a little odd/gross/unnecessary too?

Extra Rhythm

Should I be worried?

Linus has better dance moves at five than I had in college!  

Extra Excited!

Edited: I have to use Army's computer to load the pictures, and he's busy in his office so I can't load the pics up until tomorrow.  I promise it will be done at some point tomorrow.

Linus has some news to share!  We'll use pictures to explain.  I promise it's not what you're thinking.

She is SO excited!  Check back tonight for her big news...

Extra Creative

We have a dvd player in my car, but Linus is only allowed to watch it when we're on the interstate on a trip.  

During a recent errand run, Army used the interstate to get form one side of town to the other.  Linus asked, "Daddy, why are we going so fast?"

Because we're on the interstate.

"Oh, (giggles) in that case, maybe I should be watching a movie!"

She is the set-up queen!

Extra Info

I'm playing catch up today since I've received so many emails.  

~How we met story: I wrote it, but then I decided not to post it because let's face it, it's far more fascinating to me than to y'all. I think y'all would find it rather boring.  So you just get the short version that I posted earlier: I met him when he brought my friend home from a date. And yes, that friend and I still talk.  The downside of not posting it is that I didn't get to tag the people I'd like to know their "how we met" stories. 

~Linus is really coming around with Pop's death.  A friends (Thanks Leia!!!) suggested a memory jar, and I think we'll get busy on that this afternoon.

~Thanks for the prayers for my friend!  She really is such a great person.  She's like a sister; even my sister considers her a sister!

~ Mammo and ultrasound results were normal. Thank goodness!

~We're in the new house. Old house is officially sold. Yea to not having two mortgages anymore!!!  We're not unpacked yet, and we still haven't hooked up a single tv. No tv has actually been really nice!

~Painting: We painted the playroom. After that experience (we're both rather anal, so it tok forever), we decided to hire out for any further painting.  I still think we'll have the kitchen, dining room, and one more bedroom (Linus) painted.  Possibly more.

Extra Early

The Curse of Santa

Every Christmas Eve, Santa rides through every neighborhood in our city on a fire engine.  Linus  loves seeing Santa. Every time she hears or sees a fire engine, she mentions Santa.  We're lucky enough that Army knows one of the battalion chiefs, so Santa spends a little extra time at our house.  

One of the things Linus worried about concerning our move was if Santa would be able to find us.  We assured her that he would, but the topic came up several times.  

Early this morning, as in waaayyyy too early to get up, Linus darted up and shouted, "Santa is here. I can hear him. He's here! He's HERE!"    Army went running to find out what was wrong (we actually thought she was having a dream), and sure enough, Santa was one street over.  Unfortunately, it wasn't in a friendly visit capacity.  Somebody must have needed help and called 911.  There was an ambulance, police cars, and Santa's mode of transportation: a fire truck.  

And Linus has been awake ever since, because now she believes us that Santa knows we've moved.  Me? I'm draaaggggging.

Extra Heartbroken

For the second time in less than a month, my heart has been broken into tiny pieces.  A few days ago we found out that somebody we care about deeply, somebody who has been like a grandfather to my Linus, somebody we love was gravely ill.  Now, we've learned that he has passed away.

While I mourn his loss, my heart aches for my baby.  She's cried most of the afternoon.  She'll have a few minutes of calm, quickly followed with tear filled questions like How long will it hurt so badly?  She'll make statements that are way beyond her five years such as It hurts so bad deep in my heart.  

Here's to Pop: Thanks for loving my child like your own. Thanks for thrilling me with statements like Linus is the smartest child you've ever known. Thanks for helping Army figure out how to fix things when he's gotten stumped.  Thanks for teaching my Linus about fishing, climbing trees, and taking care of things.  And above all, thanks for teaching us by example to be good people. You've made a lasting impression on my family, and we'll be forever grateful. Our lives are better for having known you!

Extra Squished

If you have a Y chromosome, stop reading NOW!

On Wednesday I had to get a mammogram. I was not expecting to be sent for one, which is likely a good thing because I would have dreaded it for days and days.  When I got there, the lady was very nice, but as I'm standing there baring it all, she's chatting. She finally told me that she was chatting because the images are computerized now, and the computer takes a minute to reload after each image.  Well, isn't that great.  Doesn't everyone love to stand there half naked chatting?

All in all the mammogram wasn't as awful as I expected. It certainly wasn't pleasant, but I was expecting worse.  

BUT, then I was sent for an ultrasound too.  While I had to wait for my ultrasound, I had to sit in this small room. They don't let you get dressed while you wait, so there were several ladies in there with only paper sheets draped over their shoulders (no arm holes, just short drapes).  Lovely, huh?  This is one of those situations that you really just want to blend into the wall and not make any eye contact.  Somehow though, I'm never quite that lucky.  A sweet (and very scared) little older lady began chatting with me in all of my semi-nakedness.  I willed myself to disappear, but it didn't happen.  Then this lady began to tell me how scared she was.  Truly, she was a very sweet lady and I do understand that she was scared.  I wanted to reassure her, but I also wanted to crawl under my seat. I thought momentarily about hiding in one of the dressing rooms too.  Anyway, as this lady began to explain the reason for her fear, she OPENED HER DRAPE to show me her scar that ran the entire length OF HER CHEST!  HELLO???  YOU HAVE NOTHING ON, Lady!  So, then I'm debating whether to look quickly in that direction so I can agree with her about how awful it is, or if it would be too rude to just ignore it entirely.  

Unfortunately it didn't end there.  Then she began telling me that her gynecologist had done a breast exam and decided to send her for a mammogram. But was telling me enough?  Oh heck no! She began to SHOW me.  To quote her, "He rolled my breasts around feeling them up and down." She said this while DOING exactly what the doctor did.  

Like I said, she truly was just scared and looking for reassurance.  And I really did feel bad for her because you could see the fear on her face and hear it in her voice.  Had it been my grandmother (who by the way would have NEVER shown her goods), I would have hoped somebody would have listened to her and helped ease her fears rather than ignore her.  But at the same time, I didn't want to see what she had!  

Funny thing is, when they called her back, she held her drape down as low as she could in the back (which was only about 1/2 was down---those drapes are short!), so people couldn't see her naked back! 

But does my day end there? Oh heck no!  

I get called back for my ultrasound BY A MAN!!!!!  Here's the thing, I don't want a female doing an ultrasound on me, but I sure enough don't want a man fondling my breast with an ultrasound wand. Ever.  And keep in mind I've done the whole fertility thing, which involves more ultrasounds in the southern region than you could ever imagine possible, so I'm quite used to them.  

And yet again, it doesn't end there.

When I got back there, I find out that there is a student who will be watching the whole procedure.  Lovely. So now about half of my city has seen my boobs.

Still not over.

The guy tells me to remove my drape from my left side.  While I was in the waiting room, I was freezing, so one of the techs took mercy on me and got me a robe-ish thing that you stick your right arm through an armhole, drape it around your back, put your left arm through, then drape it around the front and back around your right arm again.  In order to take it off your left arm, you must first remove it from your right.  As I began removing it, the guy said, "No, your left arm."  I told him I had one of the RLR robes, and I couldn't figure how to take it off my left arm without taking it off my right arm first.  He tried to figure it out, but he couldn't figure a way either, so he said just take the whole thing off. Lovely.  Then it GOT STUCK ON ME!  Apparently I twisted it some putting it on, and I couldn't for the life of me get it off.  He watch the whole freaking time as I struggled with something that should be so simple.  I think it was my subconscious not wanting to literally disrobe right there.  I finally got it off, and he tells me to get on the table, which is of course a thousand feet in the air. I'm short, so I can't easily hike my hip up on most doctor's tables.  He looks for the stool as I'm trying to figure how to gracefully attempt to climb up while half naked.  Then he announces, "I can't find the stool. If you don't mind, I'll just pick you up."  Um, I DO MIND! Don't touch me anymore than you already have to.  I ended up doing the little maneuver that you do when you're getting out on the side of a pool without a ladder--I put my hands on the table/bed, which was about boob level, hoisted myself up, and did a half turn so I was sitting on the bed.  You'd think he'd keep his mouth shut, but no! He said, "Nice move.  Sorry I can't find the stool, but I've got to say, you sure don't act act like you're as old as you are."  And now I officially hate him, even if he did tell me exactly what to expect the entire time. 

Nice, huh?

Unfortunately, this isn't my most embarrassing experience with an ultrasound.  Boy am I a lucky girl!

Extra Tired!

I'm exhausted!  We're in the new house finally.  Linus was very worried the first night, but she's coming around.  We haven't hooked up a single television yet, and it's actually working out very nicely not having one on.  I kept forgetting to bring my laptop from the old house, so I wasn't really distracted by the internet either.  

We've met several new neighbors, and they all seem quite nice.  Linus really wants to make friends with the girl across the street, but there is a three year age difference, which is a good bit when you're five.  She's also been begging to have a lemonade stand, so I think I might let her do one so that she can meet a few more neighbors.  

Poor Army worked Monday, moved Tuesday, and went back to work Wednesday.  He's been exhausted by the time he comes home, but we're still working on the old house to, so his evenings are filled.  

WonderDog stayed at the vet's office while we moved. Since she was already there, we went ahead and had her teeth cleaned.  Now the poor pup is refusing to eat or drink. At all. She's acting fine, but you can't go forever without food or water.  :(

I've had an incredibly eventful week, complete with being horribly sick yesterday. I had a doctor's appointment yesterday afternoon, and it was filled with humorous moments that I plan to bore you with tomorrow.  For now, I'm going to bed.

Hope all is well with all of you!

Extra Ready!!!

It's moving day!  I can't believe it's finally here.  Poor Linus had a little meltdown last night.  She decided she didn't want to leave the house she's known as home for the past four years.  I tried everything to calm her, but nothing could stop the tears.   After lots of reassurance and hugs, she's on board with the move. At least right now.  We'll see what the end of the day brings.  

Extra Advice

Once upon a time, there was a family with a five year old daughter. This daughter loved everything musical.  This family was in the midst of moving.  The couple that bought this family's home wanted ridiculous things assessed before they moved in.  This couple wanted a termite wood infestation report (that cost that couple money that they did not need to spend) even though this house was a brick house built on a slab, and the family had an active termite bond that had remained active the entire four years that this home existed. 

The termite guy wanted to come in the midst of the family moving, and in the interest of making sure the home truly sold and sold on time, they allowed this guy to come.  And so he came...in the midst of a move.

The adorable five year old who loved all things music had two different recorders (the instrument) that she loved to play, but she loved to take them apart even more than she loved to play them.  In fact, this precious five year old may have taken one apart when she took a bath in her mommy's tub.  She may also have put away the mouth piece and the bell piece at the end, but she might have left the long middle piece on the side of the tub.  

When the termite guy came, he may have had to go into the five year old's mommy's bathroom. And he might have noticed a part of a recorder next to the tub. And he might have laughed.  The mommy may have had an inquisitive look on her face, so the guy may have pointed to the recorder and said, "Sorry, it just reminds me of 'One time at band camp..."  And the mommy may have giggled 'cause that's one of her husband's favorite movies.  

Then the guy might have looked in their closet and turned to the wife and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am." to which the mommy asked why.  The guy may then have said, "About the divorce. There's ladies clothes in here, but no man's so I'm assuming you're moving because of a divorce."  

The mommy was so stunned that she may have just said, "Oh no, that's not the case." just about the same time the termite guy looked back at the recorder and turned BRIGHT red.  

About that time, the guy may have walked out of the bathroom and back into the mommy's room and noticed a hot pink boa that the cute five year old left on the mommy's dresser.  And  this might be the exact point that the termite guy got the hell outta dodge.

Then the mommy may have been telling her neighbor how weird the termite guy was.  The neighbor may have asked the mommy if she realized just what the guy thought she was doing with that recorder, especially since he thinks she's newly divorced and doesn't have a man around.  And that mommy might be just naive enough (or just plain stupid enough) to not have known.  The neighbor, not wanting the mommy to be left out, may have told the mommy to think about how the girl character shocked the guy character in American Pie with one of her "One time at band camp" stories and exactly what she did with her flute. 

OH. MY!  

So, you just might want to make sure there is NEVER a recorder next to your tub when the termite guy comes over.

Just sayin'

An Extra Dose of Linus

A few Linusisms:

We had breakfast for dinner the other night.  As she took a bite of her egg (and remember she is only five!), she said, "Hmmm, tastes like chicken!"

We have a restaurant around the corner called Iz Too. Iz is the original restaurant, and Iz Too is an off shoot that is a more casual version.  Anyway, Army walked in with a bag from Iz Too, and Linus asked what was for lunch.  Army said, "Iz Too."  Without hesitation, Linus said, "Is not!"  Get it?

Extra Love

Have I mentioned how much I love my daughter?  How much I adore her?  A few minutes ago she brought me a letter she wrote.  Since she's not really able to spell the words she wrote yet, she had to read it to me:

Dear Mommy,

I love you with all my heart.  I love you truly and dearly.

Love, Linus

Isn't she just the greatest? 

Extra Strange!

I should have known I was getting sick.

Early, early this morning at 2:50 I bolted out of bed.  Army asked me what I was doing, but I was on a mission, and I didn't have time to answer him.  Not that it mattered, because he was asleep again within seconds.  I had been startled awake by the sound of a helicopter.  I listened to it get louder and louder, until it was so loud and remained so loud for so long, that it had become apparent that it had made an emergency landing somewhere near.  I peeked out our window, but I didn't see anything.  Next I ran to the front room, stopping to take a quick look to make sure Linus was ok on my way.  When I got to the front room, there was a LOT of light coming in from the outside, so I was pretty certain the helicopter must be near the front of our house. Much to my surprise, there wasn't one in sight.  As I went back to our room, I was a little annoyed that Army was able to sleep through it, but I wasn't totally surprised because the boy can sleep through anything.  I crawled back in bed and tried to figure out where it was coming from.  After about five minutes, I heard it take off and the sound became softer, then eventually disappeared.  I continued to try to figure the mystery out, but eventually fell asleep.

This morning, Army asked what was up last night.  Before I could even begin to ask him how on earth he slept through a helicopter that had very obviously landed on our roof, he said, "Really, Lan, WHY were you running around looking out the windows when the air conditioner turned on? You settled down as soon as it went off. What was up?"  

What? The air conditioner?

Oh, so it wasn't a helicopter after all?

I had to think of an excuse quickly, because there is no way he'd let me live that one down.  I mumbled something about hearing music and wondering where it was coming from.  

Despite that way-off-the-wall semi-conscious running through the house I did last night, it still didn't dawn on me that I might be getting sick.  When I'm sick, I have w-e-i-r-d dreams, and I think it's pretty safe to say this was weird.  Around 10 this morning, a little tummy bug reared its ugly head, and that's when it all made sense. That's why I though the air was a helicopter. That's why I ran through the house like a complete moron.  Lovely thing illness does, huh?

Extra Hard to Do!

Overheard:

(Linus had been sent to her room, and Army was trying to fuss at her)  "You absolutely canNOT hang from doorknobs.  It doesn't matter that you're so cute, you just can't do it."

I asked him why on earth he said that, and he told me that she raised her eyebrows and shoulders and just looked cute, so he had to say it.  He is SO wrapped!

An Extra Confession

I suck at the good wife thing.  I got the story of Army's initials backwards.  His initials spell an Army related thing, and when the mail gets it backwards it sounds like ARMY.   Not that we've been together forever and I should know these things or that it took me nearly 24 hours to notice.  Oops. 

An Extra Name or Two

My name is pretty obvious.  Lagniappe is pronounced lan yap, so I became Lanny.  Very creative, no?  

Y'all aren't even close for Linus or Army, though it would make sense if Linus had a blanket, and Army does have flat feet, but they have never stopped him from doing anything.

I've called my daughter Linus for years.  It comes from a twist on her real name.  She loves for me to call her Linus, but she won't allow anyone other than me (and on occasion my mom) to do it.  I've called her Linus in public by mistake, and she's perfectly ok with it.  I'm sure she won't like it at 16, but for now she does.  

Army actually comes from Army's initials.  When said together, his three initials sound like the word Army.  For some reason, he constantly gets mail to his middle initial, fist name, last name (rather than first, middle initial, last), and when you put his initials in that order, it still deals with something related to the army.  

Now I've got two questions for you: 

   How did you come up with your blogging name?

   Do you have a nickname that your S/O call(ed) you that you're willing to share?

The second question is actually to prove to Army that the nickname he's called me for the past year or so is NOT nice.  He thinks it's hilarious, and it's origin is kind of true, but still I'd rather something sweeter!  

An Extra Guess or Two

Monkling posted about names Sunday, and in her response to my comment, asked what our real names are and how I came up with our nicknames.  I'll reveal how I came up with our nicknames, but first I want to know how you think I came up with our nicknames.  So, where do you think Lanny, Army, and Linus come from?  I'm always curious where others think these names come from.