how subway made me dumb …

Our family eats a gluten free diet. Big deal. Until you go into a sandwich shop and ask a sandwich artist for a sandwich without bread. GASP! Every Subway is different, and some of them get it, but alas, this one does not.

“Can I have a foot long tuna, but can I please have it in a salad bowl instead of on bread?”

“Um. Yeah. But then I have to charge you for a double meat salad.”

“What if all I want is the tuna and cheese?”

“Still a salad.”

“Well, I’m allergic to wheat (a little stretch), so I can’t eat the bread.”

“So get white bread.”

“Hmmm. Yeah, that still has wheat in it. Can you put it in a soup cup?”

“Yeah. Or I can charge you for the foot long, and charge extra for the salad bowl.”

“No. Thanks.”

Sandwich artist scoops tuna, adds cheese, and realizes this all won’t fit into soup cup.

“This won’t fit in here. Do you want an extra cup, or do you want this in a salad bowl?”

“Are you going to charge me extra?”


“Salad bowl.”

Then I make it a meal, and of course she wants to know if I want cookies.

I can’t wait to see what happens next time.

Great job, Subway.


for the happy,




where’s lyndon?

This is the seventh birthday of my father’s that we have spent with out him. I miss him, but I keep him with me always.

We did name 2/3 of our boys after him. Ian William, and Keagan Augustus.  Sounds just like John William Burns, right?  Ian makes sense, Ian = Gaelic for John, but Keagan? Augustus?

Well, it makes sense if you know how nutty my dad was. When I was expecting Nathan, we were all sitting around chatting one day, and my mom remarked that now that she was becoming a grandmother, she would like to be called ‘Mema’. This sounded good to everyone, and was immediately adopted. Mema it was!

My dad, whose give name is John, but went by Bill his entire life, chimed in with “Well, if you’re going to be Mema, then I want to be … Lyndon.”

That was what he wanted his ‘grandpa’ name to be LYNDON! What? “Actually,” he said, “Lyndon is too tricky. Let’s go with Gus. Yep, Gus.” From that day on, we called him Papa Gus.

While packing our bags to head home from the hospital with our brand new, unnamed, third son, we got desperate, and actually went used and online random baby name generator to get ideas for what to name Keagan, since you have to have a name to leave the hospital. Then, Augustus popped up.  When Mark mentioned it, I laughed.  Augustus? But, he’s so little. Then he explained how Augustus was a version of ‘Papa Gus’ that we could use, and we both saw that it was the perfect fit.

Happy Birthday, Papa Gus!

for the happy,


Oh, October …

I have long loved the month of October. Warm days and cool nights. Sock hats, scarves, vests and fleece! As the leaves fall, and the seasons change, October marks the passing of time for me in many ways.  It actually kicks off with September 30th, the wedding anniversary of both my parents and my husband’s parents captured just 5 years apart.  Many of you may not know that this coincidence is why we were married on October 4th, which was the closest day in 1997 to September 30th that we could get married. As it worked out, that turned out, that was the PERFECT day to get married! If you were lucky enough to be there, you know! All together, between my parents, Mark’s parents, and Mark and I, we celebrated a combined 100 YEARS of MARRIAGE this year! We rock! Yes, yes we do!

The 9/30 & 10/4 duo kicked it for many years until 2005. This is the year my dad passed away. On October 4th. Yeah, that. So, every year on the 30th that call to my mom is kind of like “Ummmmm, happy anniversary? I hope you’re ok today.”  Then a few short days later we celebrate our own anniversary in true style with flashy cards bought at the last minute, and hurried, passionate pecks on the cheek, “I love you! Happy Anniversary! I’m late for something! … Thinking of you today …”  How do you properly honor those two things in the same freaking day?!? We do it just like everything else, with a smile and a laugh, and we make it on to tomorrow.

Which brings us to the 11th of Rocktober when our mini-superstar Keagan was born just 1 year after my dad died.  Yes, grieving people get busy. ;) Boy, were we thankful that I did not, in fact, have the avian flu after being in Italy, but rather surprised to find out that our earlier trip to Hawaii had been waaaayyyy more exciting than we originally remembered!

Annnnddd, then on the 12th we’re right back down as my dad waves hello, and says “Hey, what about me?’ once again. His birthday is the 12th. Up, down, up, down, up down.  This year we to this list … selling the old house on the 12th, and moving to the new house on the 19th. Immediately followed by a quick Texas get-away for mom and dad, Halloween, Thanksgiving … you get the picture.

Before you know it, I’ll be posting another story of how my kids have knocked the Christmas tree over!

for the happy,


F U Pinterest

I don’t do Pinterest. OK, that’s a lie. I do, but I just started, like two weeks ago. Really. I have a house to redo, and I’m looking for ideas. I like the iPhone app because you can’t get overwhelmed. You can only get so much on the app, and then you’re at the end, no more, just white space.

Since we are in between TV seasons, and I’ve already read 50 Shades, and am almost done with the two Martha Beck books from Mrs. Hyatt, I Pinterest in bed at night while husband works on designing house things. As an example, the other night while looking for ideas for the boys’ bedrooms, I came across this …

Source: via Kelly on Pinterest


Ummmm … totally not related to bedrooms, I don’t drink wine, he was SUPER BUSY, I jammed my iPhone in his face and said, “Holy shit! How awesome is this?!? Wouldn’t this make the coolest house warming present? (especially since everyone we know is moving)  I should make these for your mom, sister, the Betsys, Susan, Fran, blah, blah, blahflksdfosdignodigdoigoig!” He does not give to figs about Pinterest, and he, ever so politely said, “Yeah, babe. That is awesome. Cool idea. You should try that.”  Then I showed him this, and this, and this, and this ….. all with similar results. “I love it!” “Pin it” “Keeper!” “Awesome!” He was being so kind. He would give it a look, say something nice, and keep on working.  He was so patient.

And then it happened.

He started Pinteresting ME! I wanted to stab my own eyes out. I was tired. I was lying in bed with a pillow over my head. With the lights off. My intentions were quite clear. I was in bed to go to sleep.

“Hey, look at this.”


“You should see this.”


“Wow! Now this is a kitchen!”

“I promise I will never, EVER, show you another thing on Pinterest again. I am so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For driving you nuts for the last two weeks. I had no idea how annoying I was. Really.”




happy donna day …

Alright, Catie, you got me. I’ve been hemming and hawing all day about writing a ‘Donna Day’ post. Why should I blog about a little girl that I never, ever even met? Well, here’s 10 11 reasons why …

1. Cancer fucking sucks. It has taken too many people from my life, and I’m sick of it. If I can write a blog and drum up some more interest in this event then it is a win! Oh, and cancer fucking sucks!

2. Even though I never had the honor of meeting dear, sweet Donna, and I haven’t yet met Mary Tyler Mom, or Moms Who Drink and Swear, I love them all. I secretly stalk MTM because I feel like we have all of these crazy universe connections that may just be made up in my head, but I feel like they are real. She rawks.

3. You know I love a good cause, and an overflowing plate! I’ve already got my business I’m still trying to launch, Rockin’ 4 Robin ’12 that I should be planning, The Robin’s Nest Charitable Fund, and The Dear Robin Project! Oh, and there’s that mom and wife stuff, too!

4. I might actually be driving to Chicago to shave my head if we weren’t already planning to be Colorado bound at that time!

5. Valentine’s day is overrated. We waste A LOT of money on fake love gifts – I know my husband loves me. I mean, come on, he tries to show me just how much he loves me just about every freakin’ night! I don’t need flowers to prove that. We should take all of that carnation money and use it for pediatric cancer research. Just think of how far we’d get with those billions!

6. Here’s a thought … what if everyone that reads my stinky little blog a) shares iton their facebook page and asks their friends to read it, and b) donated their coffee money ($5) or lunch money ($10) or dinner money ($20) for one day to the Big $20k-in-a-Day St. Baldrick’s Fu that Donna’s Good Things is having at Candlelite Chicago.  BECAUSE every dollar donated by February 18th (up to $2,000) is being matched by an Angel! Let’s all to a *little* something to make this better!

7. Gold Ribbons deserve lots and lots of money. Pink ribbons have their month, let gold ribbons have the rest of the year.

8. I am blessed with mostly healthy kids. One autoimmune disorder (which I can only barely handle), so I would like to give a round of applause to the parents that live in cancerville.  You deserve that and SOOOOOO much more. I know, if I had to, I would survive, but I hope I never have to know the struggles you face daily, from watching your child suffer to fighting for your insurance benefits. I cannot. even. imagine. My heart goes out to you. I am so deeply sorry for what you are going through. I wish there was more that I could do. Let me know if I can do anything.

9.  If I wore a wore a wristband with color representing every cancer that has taken someone I love, first of all, my arm would be full, second I would be wearing EVERY color. Purple, teal, gold, pink, pearl, yellow, black …

10. CatieD, you tricked me by putting ‘For Good’ in your blog post. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Really? For Good? From Wicked! I’ll explain later. You got me, girl.

11. After reading Donna’s Cancer Story, how could anyone not find the time to share, or a couple of bucks to pitch in and help out Mary Tyler Family in their quest to raise $20k in a day?!?

for the happy,


i want my baby back, baby back, baby back …

I know i already posted today, but this couldn’t wait.

I am going out tonight with my lady friends. What? I know. Anyway, this leaves the mister in charge of dinner for everyone but me. #1 is now gluten free and this presents some interesting challenges because he is supah resistant to these changes and the mister and I are still learning the gluten is in fucking EVERYTHING! So, he says ‘Hey, how about ribs?’ and #3 screams ‘NO WE CAN’T EAT RIBS!!!’ The mister looks at me and I start dying.  Flashback to Wednesday …

#3 and I are walking into the bank and he is singing the Chili’s song. ‘I want my baby back, baby back, baby back. Chili’s baby back OH MY GOD RIBS ARE MADE OF BABIES!’

At this point we are in the bank, and if we’ve met, you’ve heard me laugh, and you know it’s. not. quiet. I am guffawing in the bank, trying to assure my 5 year old that baby back ribs are, indeed not made of babies. The man behind me in line hears what we are talking about starts to giggle. A lot. He says ‘I’m so sorry, but THAT is funny.’

Tricky thing, that English language, when you are only 62 months old.  Poor kid thinks we’ve been feeding him baby backs all these years. I’d be scared too.

for the happy,


how to ruin your fabulous massage in 3 simple steps …

I go to an AWESOME day spa! I have an AWESOME massage guy! Let’s just call him Sweet Baby Ray. My massage today was nothing short of spectacular, and NO, I didn’t get a happy ending. All of the discomfort was inflicted by none other than … me. And trust me when I say there was discomfort.  Here is your guide to How to Ruin Your Fabulous Massage in 3 Simple Steps …

Simple Step #1. Do Not Shave Your Legs – when you are racing through the shower the night before your massage when you have 20 minutes to get yourself ready and you haven’t showered in only God knows how many days, and you must wash the most important parts RIGHT FUCKING NOW because you cannot be late for wrestling practice because the coaches have been sending nasty-grams out all week about how all the parents are slackers and we all suck so get your asses to practice and you also better get your asses to the meets early to help set up the GD gym and while all these thought of murdering the wrestling coaches are running through my head, all I can hear is the wrestling match that is going on on my bed. Oh, and why the fuck did my shower take so long you ask? and by long, I mean 11 minutes. That would be because I have to wash my entire body with a special PRESCRIPTION ANTI-FUNGAL shampoo because my dirty ass wrestler kids brought me home a present from wrestling. NO, they don’t have it! JUST ME!  Did I get side tracked? Anyway, in my 11 minutes of showered out bliss, I had no time to shave my legs, and by the time I realized it this morning, Sweet Baby Ray was already asking me to get naked.


Simple Step #2. Down 16 Ounces of Gas Station Coffee – immediately prior to entering the spa on an empty spa and prior to your morning constitutional.  This adds an extra layer of extreme discomfort that even I am uncomfortable discussing in public, but what the hell?  Sweet Baby Ray asks me what I would like him to focus on today, and I replied that I would like him to work on my shoulders and neck as I was hoping that this would avoid an uncomfortable situation due to complications with Simple Step #1.  As he was gettin’ it on my neck and shoulders, that damn coffee was also gettin’ it. Good God was it gettin’ it! He kept asking me “Is that pressure OK, Miss Kelly?” Oh, yeah Ray, JUST FINE!  I was clenching like a madwoman from the massage work and clenching it down beow at the same time fearful that the tiniest slip might blow the lid off that Duchess Oven! Lucky for Sweet Baby Ray I kept it all in. You’re welcome, Ray.


Simple Step #3. Have a Cold – This allowed me to wonder if Ray was going to slip because my nose was running like a sick daycare kid in the middle of February! I am talking train tracks, baby! Oh, poor Ray.  I kept looking to see if he was wearing shoes or socks, thinking please be shoes, please be shoes! I can just imagine what a CSI light would show in that room after what happened in there today.  Then when he flipped me over he said “OH! Do you need a tissue, Miss Kelly?” I’m sure I looked fabulous! Sorry about that, Ray!


I cannot rave enough about how awesome Ray is. I’m sure he has other feelings about me. I’m a good tipper, though, so he always has a smile on his face when he sees me!  See you in two weeks, Ray! Sniffle, snifle, Faaarrrtttt!


for the happy,



a revolution in christmas traditions …

The other day, I received an email about revolutionizing Christmas shopping, and I thought it was worth sharing.  Really. Worth. Sharing.  My dad would have *loved* this! I mean come on, a country-wide anti-big box Christmas shopping campaign, sign him up! He hated everything about WalMart from their Chinese toys to their Mexican manufacturing plants to their ‘you get 10% less profit per year every year you sell your product in our store’ payment plan to vendors who ‘finally’ made it into Walmart.

This year, I am going to make EVERY effort to do my Christmas shopping here, in Evansville, and from my friends and business owners.  Also, I intend to purchase only things that will truly warm the hearts of my family and friends – including my children.  I need your help!  If you own a business, make a product, create something beautiful, offer a service, sell something, or know someone who does, please list your name (or their’s) here in the comments or comment on the facebook post for this blog.  Include your contact information so other people can also revolutionize their Christmas with you!  Together, we can make an impact and keep our precious dollars where they belong … right here.

So, Papa Gus, this one’s for you …

Christmas 2011 — Birth of a New Tradition

As the holidays approach, the giant Asian factories are kicking into high gear to provide Americans with monstrous piles of cheaply produced goods … merchandise that has been produced at the expense of American labor.  This year will be different.  This year Americans will give the gift of genuine concern for other Americans.  There is no longer an excuse that, at gift giving time, nothing can be found that is produced by American hands.  Yes, there is!

It’s time to think outside the box, people. Who says a gift needs to fit in a shirt box, wrapped in Chinese produced wrapping paper?  Everyone … yes, EVERYONE gets their hair cut.  How about gift certificates from your local, American hair salon or barber?

Gym membership?  It’s appropriate for all ages who are thinking about some health improvement.

Who wouldn’t appreciate getting their car detailed?  Small, American, especially, locally owned detail shops and car washes would love to sell you a gift certificate or a book of gift certificates.

Are you one of those extravagant givers who think nothing of plonking down the Benjamins on a Chinese made flat-screen?  Perhaps that grateful gift receiver would like his driveway sealed, or lawn mowed for the summer, or driveway plowed all winter, or games at the local golf course.

There are a bazillion owner-run restaurants … all offering gift certificates, and, if your intended isn’t the fancy eatery sort, what about a half-dozen breakfasts at the local breakfast joint.  Remember, folks this isn’t about big National chains … this is about supporting your home town Americans with their financial lives on the line to keep their doors open.

How many people couldn’t use an oil change for their car, truck or motorcycle, done at a shop run by the American working guy?

Thinking about a heartfelt gift for mom?  Mom would LOVE the services of a local cleaning lady for a day.

My computer could use a tune-up, and I KNOW I can find some young guy who is struggling to get his repair business up and running.

OK, you were looking for something more personal.  Local crafts people spin their own wool and knit them into scarves.  They make jewelry, and pottery and beautiful wooden boxes.

Plan your holiday outings at local, owner operated restaurants and leave your server a nice tip.  How about going out to see a play or ballet at your hometown theatre?

Musicians need love too, so find a venue showcasing local bands.

Honestly, people, do you REALLY need to buy another ten thousand Chinese lights for the house?  When you buy a five dollar string of light, about fifty cents stays in the community.  If you have those kinds of bucks to burn, leave the mailman, trash guy or babysitter a nice BIG tip.

You see, Christmas is no longer about draining American pockets so that China can build another glittering city.  Christmas is now about caring about US, encouraging American small businesses to keep plugging away to follow their dreams.  When we care about other Americans, we care about our communities, and the benefits come back to us in ways we couldn’t imagine.

Let’s make THIS is the new American Christmas tradition.

Share this post.  Forward this to people on your mailing list.  Post it to discussion groups.  Send it to the editor of your local paper and radio stations, and TV news departments.

This is a revolution of caring about each other, and isn’t that what Christmas is about?

for the happy,

~ kj

keep those ones for the herpes…

So, a while back my mom called me because she neded my help. She was helping her friend move and they were packing up the bathroom and were going through the medicine cabinet. Could I help them decipher which medicines she should keep and which ones she should dispose of? Sure.

I mean, I’m no doctor, but I’ve stayed at plenty of Holiday Inn Express Hotels and I’ve been under the care of a pain management doctor for a while, I’m pretty sure I could help out, right? How bad could this get? Two 60 year old ladies packing up a house sounds totally innocent, RIGHT?!?

The conversation starts out simply enough …


Pitch it.


Why does she have them?

Sometimes she throws her back out.


Cyclo? Cyclobenzaprene?.?

Muscle relaxer, probably for her back. Keep.



Here’s a little box of Lexapro. Here, Rebecca, you should probably be taking these now.

Hmmm, keep, I guess.


Xanax. Maybe keep?

Here, put these in my purse.


ACYCLOVIR? Seriously? Acyclovir? That’s generic Valtrex. Do you know what that’s for?


HERPES!! HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! Your old lady friend has herpes!!!!

Rebecca!! You have herpes?!? What the hell? I guess you need to keep these. Gross. I cannot believe you. These you could have put away. Geez! Some things you just do. not. need. to. know!  I mean could you not have kept those in your purse or something? Good God!

I do not have herpes! That cannot be MY medicine! Let me SEE THAT! Who’s name is on that bottle?!? Oh, that is my name? Well, when did I get herpes? SERIOUSLY, WHEN DID I GET HERPES?!? Where did this come from?  Oh. my. god. Do I have herpes?!?

Um, mom, ask Rebecca if she ever gets cold sores, like really terrible cold sores?

She said she does. WHY? Who cares! She wants to know about the herpes!

Mom, that is the herpes. Keep that one.

Oh. Rebecca! You’re fine! This is for your cold sores, you idiot!

Oh, I remember now.

Bring those pills back that I told you to put in my purse.


for the happy (pills!),

~ kj

free birth control for everyone …

It’s been way too long since I posted up a new blog, and I have a friend that always asks “where are all the funny stories from your old blog?”  Well, I guess, either I’ve become immune to the disgusting, or they are growing out of it! Either way, here is recycled post from an old blog.  Be warned, it is not for the faint of heart!  Actually seems pretty timely too, since Mark just fixed the toilet last night that has been down for about 2 months!

… and now i need new rubber gloves

warning: if you have a weak stomach, turn around now. do not pass go. do not collect $200. just run far, far away.  if you are a mother disregard the warning. you will be just fine.

yesterday, #3 had a great time smashing all the bugs in the bathroom. ants. thank you to whomever donated the blowpop stick covered in gum to the bathroom trash can. i strategically positon ant traps and remove trash.

today, more ants. awesome. #1 reports that they are coming out of the holes in the wall drilled by the bug man. holes were drilled to apply any powder to inside of walls.  maybe he just drilled holes and inserted blowpops to draw all the ants from the neighbors house into mine. they probably pay better.

also today, i was the lucky winner in the ‘who gets to empty the trash smasher that we have been filling with trash for a week without a bag in it’ contest. yumm-o.

that kind of grossness is for amateurs.

the supreme almighty disgustingness started innocently enough. i heard small feet head for the bathroom. (yes the one with the ants. that’s how we learned where they are coming from.)  after several minutes of silence, i began to worry. “are you ok?” um, yeah. “no, really. what’s wrong?” um, nothing.

oh shit.

no shit.

holy shit.

did i mention there was shit?

picture in your head a small child around the age of 8 half naked holding a plunger in his hand with a look of complete shock on his face.

what … are … you … doing?

i need some help.

with what?

getting all of this to go in that hole. (finger pointing into toilet.)

he has poo on his feet, knees, cheeks (upstairs and downstairs), abdomen, hands, fingers, wrists, and the back of his elbow!

you do not use a plunger to jam the stuff in the hole.

oh. sorry.

i throw him in the shower. suit up in my hazmat gear for clean up, and then he catches me pitching his calvin klein undies in to the black trash bag.

what are you doing with those?

throwing them away. they’re soaked in poo.

well, grammy would scrub them for me.

oh really. then i’ll save them for you and you can take them to grammy’s and ask her to do it or you are welcome to do it yourself because i do not scrub manure out of little boy’s underwear.

it’s your job.

this bag is big enough for your body. don’t start with me.

needless to say, the toilet is still not working and now i need new rubber gloves.

just think of this as free birth control.

for the happy,


Previous Older Entries