Stubborn Streak

I get my stubborn streak from my daddy. My mom is stubborn too...in her own way. But our stubborn-ness is pure Spencer.

A few years ago, my dad had a minor surgery to remove an abscess on his spine. The doctor explained he could experience minor arthritis for a year following the surgery- which I thought was odd, but what can you do? The doctor has to know what he's talking about right?

When my daddy woke up from the surgery, he could hardly walk. While it wasn't constant, the pain in his hip was so sharp and severe- I saw my once very active daddy, start being less and less mobile. Driving hurt, walking hurt, sitting hurt.

After living with the pain for a year, he finally agreed to have x-rays done. His family doctor simply said, "You've got it" referring to his arthritis. No suggestion for pain management...no referral to a surgeon...no real explaination at all. You've got it.

Months later, I talked him into going back to the doctor...a different doctor- in hopes of getting a referral to a surgeon b/c I knew it was possible to get my 'old' daddy back. That mission was accomplished...and we began jumping through whatever hoops we had to jump through in order to get his hip replaced. (I mentioned the stubborn streak, right? Spencer vs Spencer/Braunstein...I.will.win.this.)

Blood tests. Dental exams. You name it, he's been checked and tested for it in preparation for his new hip. Something else we've run across during this wild goose chase? No other doctors have any idea why on Earth a surgeon would suggest he would have arthritis for a year...it doesn't go away- it's not a cold. Bizarre. But not the point...which I have to keep reminding my dad of.

I was suprised when we were told he'd had to have his teeth checked. What does that have to do with a hip!? Apparently, an abscessed tooth can cause quite the complication when having surgery. (The infection from the abscess can hop right down to the incision spot & bam...big troubles. Makes perfect sense now, huh?) Daddy only has a few teeth that are his- the rest are a bridge that he's had since college. Dentists orders? Pull them all. OUCH!

Today, Daddy had his teeth pulled- and for the first time in quite sometime, has all, newly purchased, top and bottom chompers!! Once his mouth isn't sore from the de-teething, I'm buying him a steak...and a snickers bar! ;-)



*Please keep my daddy in your prayers. His hip surgery is scheduled for February...and then we have a big date scheduled to test out his new mobility at Busch Gardens this spring!!*

One Percent

2013 started off with a ba-bayum.

Since I will probably be late to my own funeral, it's only natural that I would be behind getting my car inspected & tags renewed, right? I woke up on this cloudy New Year's Day with a "I'm getting this ish done" attitude- setup an appointment with the local mechanic shop & called my dad to meet me there.

This particular local mechanic shop was recently bought out by another, larger, company & I noticed upon entering the establishment, many of the long-time employees were nowhere to be found. I don't frequent this spot, necessarily- but it's near our home & it's where I get my truck inspected every year.

I asked to have my oil changed, tires rotated & a normal inspection.

"The truck is under Spencer?" the man behind the counter asked me, puzzled because I'd told him my last name was Braunstein.
"Yes, my dad has brought it here before...Don Spencer," I said.
"Oh, I know you're dad!" he told me.

I felt better...even though I didn't know him- or anyone there for that matter. In our small town, it means something to know who is working on your truck, making you coffee or serving your dinner. Is it all who you know? Sometimes. Sometimes it just helps to see a friendly face...or be the friendly face.

I jumped in my dad's truck and ran some errands. Over an hour had passed and I thought I'd call to check on my truck- so I wouldn't have to come back out.

"Oh, yea...I was about to call you. Your truck failed the inspection- but everything else is complete," the man behind the counter told me over the phone.
"What?! Why?"
"The tint is 1% darker than the legal limit, ma'am," he told me.
"But you've inspected it every year & it's passed...what changed?!"
"I guess you got new tint!" he said.
"Um, no...it's the same as last year...and the year before..."

Now, I know they have rules they have to follow- and they have to draw the line somewhere...but seriously? 1%!? My blood pressure instantly skyrocketed as my dad and I drove back to Trea---- the local shop.

We walked in & sat down. The man behind the counter pretended he didn't know my dad was my dad, even though he told me he knew him. Then he proceeded to tell us that he couldn't just pass the truck because he knew who we were.

"It's not all who you know!" he said.

Yea, I bet your mattress still has that tag on it that says 'do not remove' too, Sparky.

"The guy behind our shop can take the tint off...we'll inspect it & then he can replace it for you- simple as that," he explained.

I got mad. I saw red. I was a second away from taking off my earrings. 1 freaking percent. ONE. And you've inspected it every.freaking.year.

"What a racket..."

I told him I was done arguing, I just wanted to pay my bill and be done. While I went over my bill, I explained to the man behind the counter that good customer service- means letting your client know when something comes up with their vehicle. I felt that I should've been notified prior to my oil change & tire rotation...but that's just good customer service- which clearly this shop does not have.

After telling the man behind the counter this- he got his back up...which royally pissed me off.

"You can take your truck somewhere else. But you're flagged in the system...the DMV will come to your house," he said, with a fake tough-guy attitude.
"Oh! Scary! Bring it on- they can inspect my truck, my house, look through my dirty laundry & meet my 3 dobermans and angry chihuahua...but they won't. Because you're bluffing. Liar," I said...and I may have stuck my tongue out after I said liar and made the farting noise...possibly.

My dad interjected with obscenities that are not blog friendly...if we were onstage and I was a rapper, he would've totally rocked it as a hype man.

The two mechanics standing behind him half cheered me on and half wouldn't make eye contact with me b/c they didn't want to anger the crazywhitegirl anymore than their bossman had already.

I stomped out. Slamming the door and huffed all the way to my 1%-too-tinted truck and realized...I forgot my damn coffee mug- my favorite zebra print coffee mug. I stomped back in like an angry stallion with its ears pinned. I glared at the man behind the counter as I snatched my coffee mug off the counter. (I might have said "HMPH!"...possibly.)

I complained about said 'local shop' all day. (ONE PERCENT TOO DARK! ONE FREAKING PERCENT!!)



Today, I went to a real mechanic. My inspection passed with flying colors. Turns out- it isn't who you know, its just knowing when you know assholes. ;-)

Ho Ho Holidays

The Christmas season is so busy that it seems like- by the time the stockings are filled and the turkey is in the oven...I realize a gazillion tradition I would've liked to have done with my little family. But didn't.

One new tradition we started- we welcomed an Elf on the Shelf to our family this year. Her name is Ruby. The day she arrived from the North Pole- Little Miss saw a tiny white feather beside her. She decided Aunt Ruby (who has real wings b/c she's an angel now) must've had a hand in the elf finding us. (I cried.) While many elves seemed very energetic at night, according to their human's facebook pages, ours tended to just hop from place to place. I had a heck of a time remembering to "leave the window open" for the Elf...so she could fly in & out. (aheeem) 

On Christmas Eve, in between deep-cleaning the house b/c apparently, I thought Santa was coming to stay-a-while, Little Miss, Mr.B and I baked and decorated cookies. They were delicious...Santa shared.

The morning of the big day- I woke up at 6am. I had butterflies in my belly just like I did when I was a little one. I tip-toed out into the living room and saw what the jolly-ole-elf left for us. I fixed my coffee, put the breakfast casserole into the oven- and snuggled back down in bed. Two hours (TWO HOURS) later, Little Miss woke up...and stumbled into our bedroom. The three of us walked into the living room together & Little Miss was overjoyed with the American Girl accessories Santa left for her & her doll. A few minutes later, my parents arrived with homemade biscuits...and my Christmas was complete. (They were cheese biscuits...mmmm my heart skips a beat just thinking about the little dollops of dough filled with cheese.)

Little Miss shredded through present after present- Barbie, clothes...hmmm- a small box that doesn't rattle? This is probably a boring...IPAD!!?!?? Then she peed a little.

At that point, neither of us cared about any other presents- we just wanted to play with our new toys. We got my parents a Kindle Fire...and my dad (the truck driving, mechanic, who's far from a tech-savvy fella) hasn't put it down yet. He asked me yesterday about Twitter...he wants to sign up. I love it.

Once the presents were opened and it was time to play with our gifts...shockingly, no one wanted a photo. No problem- that's why I have pets...because they're loyal and there for you when you need them. Hmph.

Thanks, Kitties.

I was able to sneak a few of Little Miss...after lying and saying "Noooo I'm not shooting you...I'm shooting this piece of wrapping paper in the floor." (Bedhead documented...sweet!)

And yes...half the lights on our Christmas/Hanukkah tree don't work. It was already decorated...I figured from outside- you can only see half the tree anyway, so I justified my laziness.

Who needs lunch when someone gives you a GIANT chocolate kiss? Yea...eat it, girlfriend.

Later that afternoon, we moseyed over to my parents home to have an early dinner. Santa left a surprise for Little Miss there too!! A kitchen for her "apartment" at Bub & Gran'Dads!!

Christmas spent with family...what more can you ask?

Bedtime Conversations

Our evening routine is one of my favorite parts of the day. Little Miss and I snuggle up together with the iPad and read to each other. Sometimes she reads an entire book, sometimes I do...and sometimes we read together. It's one of the few times throughout the day that there are no 'life' interruptions. We are each other's captive audience.

After reading, we talk about the rose/thorn of our days...which sometimes carries over to random chatter. Recently, Little Miss has attempted to prolong the actual 'sleep' part of our nightly routine, by spouting out bits of information- just as I think she's fallen asleep.

Tiny heart attacks occur with each story...because I think she's asleep until all of a sudden, her head pops up and I hear...

"Keena is older than me. Everyone in my dance class is...except the ones who aren't," she says.
"Oh...okay, well let's go to sleep now."

Minutes pass by. The dog is snoring under my feet.

"Snakes can eat otters...and rats...did you know that-"
I interupt.
"Thats amazing...but it's time for sleep. Thank you for all the information though!"
"Right...love you, Mama!" she says with a kiss, then closes her eyes again.

More time passes. The dog snores louder...one of the animals fart and in the midst of me gasping for air, I hear a whisper.

"The person who plays Avery on 'Dog with a Blog' was on 'Good Luck, Charlie' first...did you know that, Mama?"
"I didn't. But I do know that you are supposed to be sleeping!"

Less than one minute later.

"I can spell olive....................... I just did it in my head."

At this point, I'm trying to fight back the giggles. Quite honestly, Little Miss sounds like she's having a half drunk conversation with herself.

I tell her once again, it's time to stop talking and go to sleep. For the love of worms and dirt, child...aren't you the least bit tired?! More time passes...she's snuggled on my arm and feels like a wet noodle. I'm quite certain she's asleep.

"Do you know what happens after art? ...I don't either."

My eyeballs fall out of my head.

Seconds later, she's snoring.

A Familiar Voice

The night of Little Miss's birthday, we went to our favorite local movie theater to watch Hotel Transylvania. This little theater is one of a kind- you can't possibly spend a twenty dollar bill, no matter how much popcorn and candy you buy. It's amazing.

About five minutes into the movie, Little Miss turned to me and motioned for me to lean to her.

"Mama...is Gran'Pa Braunstein an actor now?!" she whispered with excitement.

"No, sweetie- I don't think so...why?" I asked.

"Because...I think he is! I think he has to be the voice of Dracula!!" she said.

I didn't argue. I watched her as she proudly watched the rest of the movie, positive that her grandfather (who is originally from Romania) was the voice of a character in her new favorite movie.

The next day, she decided to dress as Mavis, Dracula's daughter, for Halloween. She loves her Gran'Pa. ;-)