My plan this afternoon was to pick up my mother and take her with me and Ian to Trader Joe’s. She was curious about it since she had so thoroughly enjoyed the cookies I had bought from there recently. Ian went down for his nap right on time and woke up a little early from it so we had plenty of time for this adventure.

As Ian and I pulled up to my parents, my dad (AKA Pop according to Ian) was heading over to the neighbor’s house to “help with some leaves.” Ian kept asking as we went inside, “where Pop go?” and when I told him he was outside helping with leaves he got down from the kitchen table where my mom (Mamaw) and I were sitting, grabbed his coat and headed for the front door saying, “I wanna see leaves.” Um, ok.

So I carried him two houses down to Paul’s house and not seeing any leaves in the front yard, moseyed into the backyard. There I found Paul and my dad and Paul’s daughter raking a bunch of leaves out of my father’s truck into a pile. It looked like they were almost done so I thought we might make it back inside where it’s warm. Then Daddy said, “oh I brought that chain for you.” Apparently they were going to pull over a tree in Paul’s front yard too. And apparently Ian needed to witness that.

So Daddy and Paul wrapped this huge tractor chain around the tree and Daddy used his pickup to pull the tree over. Now we should be able to go in where it’s warm! Ah, but then the discussion went to how the tree was going to get out of the giant hole it was in. Daddy was trying to explain that the direction the chain was wrapped mattered because they were trying to roll it out of the hole. It took about three different tries of pulling the tree in various directions, but eventually Daddy pulled this big tree up out of the hole and onto the lawn. As soon as it stopped moving, Ian yelled out, “Pop did it! Pop did it!!”

Paul said, “I don’t know how you got so lucky to get that tree out, George.” and I told him, “it’s not luck; it’s experience.”

Then the tree was blocking the sidewalk, so Daddy had to go get his chainsaw to cut it up. Ian of course had to stick around for that too. It wasn’t until the tree was all cut up and they were just stacking wood that he relented that he was cold and wanted to go inside and see Mamaw.

After another 30 minutes we were finally ready to go to Trader Joe’s. Daddy sheepishly asked how long we would be gone because he might want to go to (“I don’t know what else I’d do while you’re gone so I might as well come along.”). So we all piled in the car on a field trip. I was not so sure about my father going to Trader Joe’s because things there are not cheap and my father won’t eat name brand Beanie Weanies because they’re too expensive but he managed to have a good time.

We roamed around the various aisles and Daddy was wooed by the free samples of coffee and entrees. I discovered my father had never heard of yogurt covered raisins because he pointed to them and said, “wow they will combine anything!” I then had to put a container of them in the cart because one of Ian’s favorite foods is yogurt covered raisins and we had gone there specifically for them. My two-year-old is more worldly than the 70-year-old in some ways. Daddy also had never seen a checkout display that showed the items as they were ringing up, so it’s probably good he went on this field trip just to get a little more experience.

Ian was getting punchy and super tired and the 1/2 mile between Trader Joe’s and Chick-fil-a was a screaming cry-fest. Only waffle fries could placate him. My father said, “you never did anything like this when you were his age” but a little later in the car he added, “then again we never really went anywhere with you kids when you were little.” I reminded him that most kids are good but only do annoying things when they’re in bad situations and out of reserves. They’re over-tired, over-stimulated and over-extended, just like Ian was tonight. Thank God for waffle fries.

Mom says she wants to go back to Trader Joe’s with me again and leave Daddy at home so we have more time to browse and look for things to buy without him. But at least Daddy now understands that Trader Joe’s is a grocery store and not a military surplus store, like he did when he agreed to go on this field trip with us tonight.

For all his experience with tractor chains and tree stumps, Daddy still has things to learn and the two-year-old is helping teach him.

“Mommy, I got boogers in my nose.”

That’s what I woke up to at 6:26am on Christmas Eve. Ian had sat up in the sidecar crib next to me and looked at me with melancholy. I looked over and saw that Rich was gone. The first thought I had was “oh, good grief, Ian had sprawled so much in the bed last night we literally pushed Rich onto the floor. His love of co-sleeping is growing thin, I’m sure.”

Then I realized he had left for his hockey pickup at 5:45 that morning. The alarm was set for 6:30 so Ian and I just turned it off and rallied for the day. We picked out some warm pants and a cute t-shirt and his special hockey sweatshirt (with a bear and a PUCK! and SKATES! and a HOCKEY STICK! and a HELMET!). Things were looking good for us to get to the rink just in time to catch the second half of ice time.

But as Ian sat on the dog bed in the living room and I was getting my bag packed, he coughed so hard that he threw up all over his warm pants. Thankfully the sweatshirt was saved, but we had to do a quick wardrobe change before we could get going. Undeterred, we headed to the rink to watch Daddy play hockey.

Rich had said several times that it would mean a lot to him if Ian and I came out to watch him play goal. When he turned around and saw us on the other side of the boards, the look on his face was priceless. He actually said I could wrap that up and make that one of his Christmas presents.

Hockey went well, Hardee’s went well, last minute groceries and Food Lion went well and even an emergency trip to Super Cuts to de-mullet our son’s hair went well. It wasn’t until we had left all that and Ian was working on his “good haircut lollipop” that he started coughing again and proceeded to vomit all over himself and his car seat (the hockey sweatshirt was definitely not savable this time). Rich was literally two cars behind us and I was frantically trying to turn into the gas station and flag him down at the same time. I waved in a panic to him but he just cheerfully waved back and kept on driving.

So I texted hurriedly “vomit everywhere”. I had considered using Siri to send something but worried it would get garbled into “comet underwear” and Rich would just think “Me-ow! I’ll be shooting stars come nap time if she’s already sending me naughty text messages!” as he motored home.

Ian and I pulled into the parking lot and I pulled out the emergency bag I had packed after vomit #1 that contained a complete change of clothes (including socks). Mom of the year! After mopping up part of the mess, I checked my phone and saw Rich’s reply. “Oh no. Need help?”

Need help? What part of “vomit everywhere” sounds like “you just go on ahead home, honey. I know you’re smelly from your 90 minutes of hockey pickup and could use a shower. I’ll stay here in the Wawa parking lot and scoop up regurgitated seaweed salad out of the car seat.” But instead I just texted back, “Yes.”

Rich eventually met us there and could transfer the filth to the dumpster while I changed Ian’s clothes. We were on our way home with plans for nap time. Ian had a yogurt and we eventually headed upstairs for some Mama milk to prep for a nap. Rich and his dad had gone to the local sub shop to pick up lunch for us all and his mom was downstairs. After a few minutes of Mama milk, Ian started coughing again and making the “thrup” sound. I had just patted myself on the back for catching his vomit in his blanket versus our bed sheets when he tried to roll away from the gross blankie and thew up again while on his back. Dear God, it was awful. He got snotty vomit up his nose and in his eyes! I grabbed him and sprinted to the bathroom as I just kept saying over and over “oh, Buddy, I’m so sorry. Hang in there, I’m so sorry.”

And I texted “vomit again” to Rich. This time he came rushing upstairs as soon as he was home and helped the poor little guy get to sleep while I stripped the bed and cleaned the bathroom. A collective sigh of relief rang out around the house as Ian went down for a nap and we started some laundry.

But just over an hour later, Ian started coughing again and as we came up to check on him I could hear Rich say, “oh, Buddy, I’m so sorry.” Yeah, I know what that means. Time to strip the comforter off the bed and try again.

As the laundry line continued, Ian was in fine spirits. I think it was just the snot triggering a gag reflex when he coughed too much. He probably didn’t need yogurt since it coats your throat, but it was the only thing he was interested in eating. I insisted that both Ian and I have a bath before bed because despite rinsing off before I was convinced I smelled faint hints of vomit and wanted to eliminate the possibility it was one of us. We managed to get him settled for bed around 9pm and just kept the baby monitor close by to listen for tell-tale signs.

Around 11pm I heard him fuss and cough a little. When I went up to check on him he was having a hard time breathing, so I propped him up on my stomach as a pillow. He snuggled down and seemed to be able to sleep. I took a picture and sent it to Rich downstairs. I was worried he would start coughing more so I wanted to keep an eye on him a bit. As I said as much to Rich via text, Ian started coughing very hard. I sat up and held him in my arms, blanket at the ready and his head on my chest, hoping that sitting up would help. After a particularly hard cough, Ian threw up his entire dinner right down my nursing tank shirt. And that’s when I texted “vomit 911″ to Rich.

But the first thing I thought was “his clothes are clean, the blanket is clean, and thank everything the comforter is clean! It’s a Christmas miracle!” So Rich sprinted upstairs and got Ian back to sleep propped up on a pillow while I headed once more into the shower after shaking my shirt out into the toilet. As I later told my parents, I was working on every puke-related parenting merit badge all in one day.

I’m pleased to report that this fifth and final vomit was all we had to deal with and he did much better on Christmas day. But Rich and I have also learned the subtle nuances of texting when puke is involved. I hate how the iPhone has a text “shortcut” that converts “omw” into “On my way!” but I may have found a new use for the shortcut feature.

I’m going to change it so that whenever I type vomit, it converts it to OMG VOMIT! YES I NEED HELP!!!

P.S. Rich got my “vomit again” text while he was almost back to the house from the sub shop with his dad. He asked his dad if he should type back “need help” and his father wisely said, “if you do, just drop me off and don’t even bother coming home cause you won’t be welcome there for a while.”

I made you all a mixtape! I had that same head cold everyone had these last few months. While it didn’t kill me, it did mess up my throat so that I couldn’t do much singing. It wasn’t until my cold finally cleared that I realized how much I missed it. Something cheesy came on the radio and I just sang my heart out in my minivan without repercussions.

And that led to my digging up a few of my favorite guilty pleasure tunes for your enjoyment. I’ll list them here with descriptions and links to YouTube videos, but you can also listen to them all on online. As a warning a few have naughty words so slap on the headphones if you’re at work. And when you get home, crank it up and shake your butt.

Open Tape – Guilty Pleasures (auto plays)

OneRepublic – Good Life
This band is probably what I was crooning in the car. I just can’t get enough of this song. I particularly love when they say “hopelessly” because it reminds me of will.i.am’s “Yes We Can” song.

Neil Diamond – America
This one is for you, Becca. I dare you all to not yell out TODAY! along with him. (And wow, the YouTube comments for this video.)

Heavy D and the Boyz – Now That We Found Love
This is me dipping my toe into the world of hip hop. I know, I’m pretty lame, but I love Heavy’s voice. Rest in Peace, Mr. D.

Britney Spears – Piece of Me
While I am no Chris Crocker (and holy crap, 48 million views on that video!), I do hate to see folks make fun of Britney Spears when she’s a pop icon and a mom. I would love to have her dance moves (the recent ones, not the Baby One More Time ones). So sing it, girl. Address your haters.

Cece Peniston – Finally
This is from the Priscilla Queen of the Desert soundtrack, which I highly recommend. I should that movie out and watch it again. This song had me a “brown cocoa skin”.

Maroon 5 – Moves Like Jagger
I know, I know. Everyone wants to bitch about this song, but I LOVE IT. I actually would like more songs like this in my life. I told Rich I wanted to find songs with this much bass but not electronica songs that were 9 minutes long. And the video is very cool. And hey, shirtless Adam Levine.

Patty Loveless – Blame It On Your Heart
I took a hard turn into the land of country music for this one but it’s worth it. Patty Loveless is very fun and you have to sing along by the end of it or you have no soul.

Tina Turner – Proud Mary
I love the two paces of this song. Tina Turner is wonderful, regardless of her taste in men. And I just learned she is 72 years old. Go Tina!

Kanye West – Gold Digger
Mr. West is a little bit insane, but this song is awesomely irreverent. (And he is pretty handsome too.)

Alicia Keys – No One
I wouldn’t have included this song, were it not for this video that cracks me up every damn time. The oh uh oh OH ohs alone are worth it. Rich calls any song that sounds like this my “addressing your haters song”.

OneRepulic – Secrets
I couldn’t decide which OneRepublic song to include so dammit, you’re getting both of them. The cello intro in this song makes me so happy and it is my latest “addressing your haters” love.

So let yourself go!

This morning was my big day in court. I had tried to block it out of my mind, assuming that it just wouldn’t happen, but last night I dug out the subpoena and it really did say I was supposed to be in traffic court on November 30th at 9am.

As a witness. The police officer had summoned me and the guy in front of me as witnesses for the kid who rear-ended me. I’ve never been subpoenaed as a witness before so I wasn’t really sure how it was supposed to work.

Rich said it was going to be a giant waste of my time, but I was optimistic, though bummed I couldn’t even have my phone for entertainment.

I arrived at 8:30, found the right courtroom (though that took a bit) and managed to score a seat next to this elderly Hispanic couple. When the sassy bailiff warned us to get rid of any gum, saying, “this judge won’t stand for no gum. He’ll give you ten days for it.” The lady next to me whispered, “but that police lady up there – she have gum! Do you think I can keep my cough drops? I don’t want to get in trouble for coughing.”

After waiting for over an hour, it was almost our turn. I had coincidentally sat behind the kid that rear-ended me and he was there with his father. I also noticed that there are an awful lot of people who drive with suspended licenses, based on the cases that came up before ours.

It was finally our turn and we all approached the bench. The judge asked how the kid pleaded and he pleaded guilty. The judge asked if he had anything to say about it and the kid said that he just didn’t stop fast enough so he hit me. When the judge asked if I had anything more to add I said, “just that he was super nice during the whole thing. It was the most pleasant accident experience I’ve had.”

The judge looked at me. “The officer? Or the guy that hit you?”

“The guy that hit me. I mean, the officer was super nice too, but Mr. Jones was very pleasant and apologetic about the whole thing. There was no drama and he was very cooperative. It was even a pretty day.”

The judge smiled and then shrugged. The other witness (who was in the truck in front of me) said, “man, I want to be the guy who runs into you next time.”

Then the judge said that he felt the insurance companies could handle everything and there was no need for him to add any tickets to it. So we were all free to go and he thanked us for our time.

And that’s how I made this kid’s day just a little bit better. He’s still going to have insurance rates go up and he still totaled his mom’s car. But he was responsible and honest and that should count for something.

Movember is coming to a close on Wednesday the 30th (as is NaBloPoMo!). To show solidarity, I am (briefly) donning a moustache as well to remind you that we’re raising money to fight prostate cancer. We’d love for you to donate to our team; even the smallest donation makes a difference.

I’m looking forward to having a clean-shaven husband again on Thursday, though.

In other news, I’ve been requested as a witness for the dude who rear-ended me the other week so I have to go to traffic court. I’m most annoyed that I won’t be able to entertain myself without a laptop or phone. Even all my books are in Kindle form. Here’s hoping it’s a quick process.