It Was All Fun And Games, Until His Tooth Was Pulled Out

So we've had a bit of a milestone around here: The Boy Child lost his first tooth!

About a week ago, he suddenly announced that he was no longer going to brush his teeth, because the dentist had told him to "brush the teeth you want to keep," and he wanted them to fall out.

While I couldn't argue with his logic in that, I reminded him of two things. One, being that even though the other kids in his class are losing their teeth, he is nearly a year younger than most of them. And second, the Tooth Fairy doesn't take rotten teeth.

He wasn't satisfied with either answer, which is why I was pretty happy when several days later he came home with his first loose tooth.

And it wasn't just a little loose, it was already dangling.

How did that happen so fast!?

Convinced that he wanted it out THAT NIGHT, he asked The Guy to pull it out for him. And although he was brave and didn't cry, I couldn't help but laugh at the facial expressions I captured as he progressed through the realization of what having a tooth pulled out, actually entails.

Seven Minion Clowns, A Unicorn, And A Very Smashed Windshield

Yikes, it has been a while since my last post, and just like my house, I've missed this place! After spending the last, nearly two weeks, out of town, we finally got home yesterday.

I'm slightly proud of that picture, that I took from the plane, but I'm not nearly as proud of that one as I am of the one I took in the airport, because What. The. Hell ??

Have enough people really tried to bring chainsaws and generators onto an airplane as their carry-on item, that we now need a sign at the luggage check-in, reminding people that they can't bring gas cans and matches to their assigned seats?

I fear for humanity.

But anyway, even before that, The Guy, and I spent Thanksgiving in St. Louis. We didn't really have a reason for going there, other than we really didn't have a reason not to go there either.

And all of that, brings me to this post.

It all started several months ago, when I saw an ad for the St. Louis Union Station Hotel. Have you guys seen that place before?

Wow.

What The Hell Do People Think Of Me?

Have you guys heard of Wish.com? I promise this isn't a sponsored post or anything, it's just that lately their ads seem to be infiltrating my Facebook news feed. And what I really don't understand, is why, in an era where ads are usually targeted to a specific audience, does Wish.com think that I want to buy a bunch of... I really don't even know what to call it.

It also worries me a bit that whatever I'm doing on my phone, has led Wish to think that I am the kind of person who would need any of this stuff...

Like this for example:

What is this? Some kind of leg brace you wear to go clubbing? Complete with ventilation hole for your fat, that makes you look like you have a giant blister in need of medical attention? Do I dress like this and was just unaware?

When My Health Issues Landed Me In Court (Part 2)

And we are back for part two! Recapping Part One (which you should read first if you haven't already done so), I'd been diagnosed with a rare medical disorder, my husband had left me, I lost my social security disability case, I had to go back to work so that I could feed my children, my health prevented me from working full time, and then I found out that my attorney had my denial overturned, and my case was headed back to court.

Yep, that pretty much sums it up. Moving on:

********************

It had been YEARS since I'd lost my court case! And I had no idea that my attorney had filed an appeal; I didn't even know that was possible. I was so completely caught up in pulling my life back together after my husband's disappearance, that I had somehow missed everything that had been going on with my case behind the scenes.

“I don’t think I am going to win” I told my attorney. “I’ve been working because I had no choice, I’ve been going to the gym because it's the only thing I can think of to keep my health from getting worse, and I dance when I have a good day. I'm not even taking the pain pills that the doctor prescribes me because I need to be clear headed enough to drive my kids around. I'm doing so much, that no one is going to believe how sick I actually am.”

“Just come to court” he told me, “and tell the judge the truth.”

So I did.

I explained why I was working, and how I cared for my children. I talked about the doctor appointments, the prognosis, and I answered more questions than I was expecting to have thrown at me. I sat there and listened to the judge and my attorney argue over my medical files, read reports from state appointed doctors, and I heard testimony from a state hired vocational expert on how my health would affect my job opportunities.

I felt what I always feel in court; removed from the situation, and protected by a layer of PTSD that keeps me from having to emotionally absorb what is going on.

The judge didn't make a decision that day, and it was three months before a letter from the social security office arrived in my mailbox.

I remember pulling it out of the box, and the air being sucked out of my lungs with it. Taking it inside, I sat on the couch and turned it over and over again in my hands; trying to will myself to open it, but not sure what it's contents might mean for my life.

When My Health Issues Landed Me In Court

Several months ago, before I got pregnant, I found myself sitting in the examination room of a spine doctor.

I really, really, really, did not want to be there.

The doctor was taking a really, really, really, long time to come in and examine me, and there was a mirror in front of me... which kept me entertained for the nearly two hours I waited, by taking selfies while wearing what I can only equate to a blue paper towel.

My Husband Sucks At Bowling

With October being Domestic Violence Awareness Month, much of my time has been taken up by nonprofit events and speaking engagements, so I apologize for not having a "real" post ready this week. But what I can do, is catch you up the articles that I have written elsewhere, and also fill you in a bit on what else has been keeping us busy!

My Ex's Attorney Is A Killer (Literally)

If you didn't read the last post, "I'm Not There Anymore," I suggest reading that first so that this post makes sense.

**************

It’s been a few days since my day in court, and I’m feeling much better. Overall I wasn’t feeling all that bad to begin with (compared to prior years in court), but either way it always takes a lot out of me.

This whole process has just been ridiculous. As a bit of background on this most current situation that brought us into court, Ex is ordered to pay 50% of all our children's medical, daycare, school, and extra curricular expenses. But about a year ago, he started to fall behind again; which if you are new to this blog, is a constant issue with him. He either doesn't pay the bills and/or child support, I take him to court, he is threatened with jail, and he catches up for a few months on a payment plan, before he stops paying again.

Sensing that we were about to head down the familiar legal intervention path, I told him that if he started paying me a set amount per week, that I would personally eat the cost of anything above and beyond that. The number that I offered him was significantly lower than what expenses actually are, but it would have been worth it just to not have to deal with him. To make the offer sweeter, Mr. Attorney Man graciously offered to waive the fees billed from prior court dates that Ex had not yet paid (since Ex was found in contempt, he has to pay my attorney).

Ex rejected the idea.

I'm Not There Anymore

It’s 6:30am. My husband just left for work, and the kids are sleeping. It’s been raining on and off, so it’s still dark out, and the cars driving on the road outside, are making a whizzing noise on the wet pavement as people rush off to work. A chill hangs in the air and fog has settled so thick outside, that I can’t see the cornfields right outside my front door. It’s exactly the kind of morning where you pull the covers up under your chin and relish the last few minutes you have before your alarm goes off, but I can’t sleep.

It actually feels a lot like the night several years ago when I found myself in bed, opening my laptop, and starting this blog.

I woke up this morning crying, and I’m not sure why. Tears clung to my cheeks as the pillowcase clung to my face, and my nose was running. Maybe I had been dreaming, but the more likely scenario is that even in sleep, I’m still decompressing from the events of yesterday.

On Going To Court This Week, Pregnant

Not long ago, The Guy, the kids, and I were in the car. I can’t remember what we were talking about, but at some point I looked into the backseat, and saw that The Girl Child’s eyes were welling up with tears. When I asked her what was wrong, she didn’t answer me. Confused, The Guy repeated my question, and her response to him caught me completely off guard.

“You’re not my real daddy!”

She was visibly upset and by the quiver in her voice as well as the emotion packed behind her words, it was clear that her statement was something that she had been thinking about for a very long time.

Not wanting to jump the wrong way in the conversation, I asked her what she meant by that, and she surprised me with the simplicity of her answer.

That Time I Possibly, Accidentally, Went To A Happy Endings Massage Parlor... And Got Beat Up.

Photo Credit Giphy.com

*****************************

Not long ago, I found myself with a Groupon credit that was about to expire, and with it, I wanted to find an experience that I could treat Frisbee Boy's Mom (aka my surrogate mom) to, since she does so much for me.

After ruling out pregnant skydiving and deciding against getting vajazzled (an idea that she did not immediately turn down), I came across a foot massage advertisement. Now typically, because of the loose joints that my genetic condition gives me, I don't enjoy massages. I tried to explain to The Guy once when he talked me into getting a couple’s massage with him.

Ask him about it.

No seriously.

For some reason I agreed to go with him, and I found myself in a spa much fancier than is acceptable for my class of human. The Guy was lying on a massage table over on his side of the room, making relaxed, groany sex noises, and I was over on my side whimpering in pain.

My massage ended when the masseuse dislocated my rib and I burst into tears.

So when I saw via Groupon that getting just a foot only massage was an option, I figured I’d give it a whirl!

That is, until I really took a look at the wording of the advertisement; “where you come to have all your tensions, of every kind, released, as we hit just the right spot. No one leaves until they have been completely satisfied in every way."

Hum. Now I'm not always the brightest crayon in the box, but even I began to question what goes on there…

Photo Credit Giphy.com

But then I found another place that looked more legit, so I bought two sessions, and that is where this story really starts to get weird.

A couple weeks later, Frisbee Boy's Mom and I showed up bright and early to have our feet massaged. I was immediately surprised and impressed at how authentically Asian the decor of the place was. From the detailed wall hangings to the ornate furniture, it felt like I had just walked in off the streets of China.

I was a little disappointed when I was told that being pregnant, they would not be able to massage the bottoms of my feet due to the risk of inducing labor, but I didn't want to complain so I kept my mouth shut and pretended that I was totally fine booking a massage to have the tops of my feet rubbed.

Because that's totally the type of foot rub people enjoy. The boney part.

Grand Finale

*If you are viewing on mobile, select the web version to de-fuzz the photos*

First We Were Three, 

And Then We Were Four.

Now We're Completing Our Family, 

By Adding One More!

You Are Never Going To Believe This

************************

Heeeelllllooooo everyone!

My gosh, WHERE IS THE TIME GOING?

I feel like these last few months have just run over me; some great, other parts not-so-great, and a few moments have just been insane.

Can we talk about “insane,” for a few minutes here? Because here is something that I cannot even wrap my head around, and I’d love it if you all could join me in shock, awe, and horror:

Set Previous Stage: Do you remember the last time I took my ex to court? It was the 3rd or 4th time we had gone due to his failure to pay child support, and as usual he whined and cried that he was poor, basically homeless, and had not a penny to his name. Then, in a shocking twist, it came out that he was married and had new kids. He begged and pleaded for one more chance to make things right, because his “kids” (not referring to the ones he abandoned) needed him, and the judge bought the whole damn charade.

Set Recent Stage: Last December, after being given another opportunity to stay out of jail and pay down his arrearages, my ex stopped contributing to the kids medical bills, daycare costs, etc, and fell behind on paying child support. I offered him an agreement to get caught up, just so we could stay out of court, he denied it, and I filed a court petition.

Set Current Stage: My ex hired an attorney. Yep! The man cannot afford to pay his child support, yet he can afford an attorney to explain why he shouldn't have to pay child support. Oh but wait! He actually CAN afford support, because after lying on his financial affadavits all these years, after hiring an attorney who has the responsibility to have his client surrender certain financial documents to the other party (us), SURPRISE SURPRISE out comes the truth; the ex and his wife make nearly 100k a year.

You read that right (although at first I didn’t think I had).

The 2nd Edition Of "Why On Earth Would I Buy That?"

Last night I was flipping through the TV channels and I came across an emerald ring that was on sale on the home shopping network, for the low, low price of $20,000. Since I didn't feel like jumping up to grab my credit card to buy the ugliest ring I had ever seen after I had gotten all comfortable on the couch, I finally edited this little beauty for you! Because if there is anything that I have enjoyed writing more than the "Things That Make You Ask Why" series, it's this series.

Really though, nothing says 'Murica, more than the examples of what you can buy in our stores. So without further ado, I ask you, "Why On Earth Would I Buy That?"

************************************

Wait... what? I have so many questions here that I'm not even sure where to start.

So I guess I'll just start with, "why not shop online for recycled car parts that you can use the next time you attend a riot?"

Deep Throating... Or Something Like It

I peered into the mirror, my face so close to it that I had to keep wiping the steam from my breath off of the glass so that it wouldn’t obstruct my view. With my mouth open wide and a flashlight perfectly aimed to shine down my throat, I could see that there was a swollen lump attached to the bottom of my tonsil. 

Photo Credit: Giphy.com

Super gross, I know, and the gross factor, combined with the pain it was causing, finally convinced me to go see my primary care doctor, who in turn looked a bit startled as she recommended that if it was still there in a week, that I should go see an ENT (ear, nose, and throat doctor) instead.

Fun times.

Well, a week passed, and after peering at it again in the mirror, I begrudgingly slid off my bathroom counter and made an appointment with a local ENT. The next few days were spent religiously gargling saltwater and ingesting massive amounts of natural antiviral and antibacterial concoctions — hoping that the disgusting whatever-it-was might disappear without medical intervention and all would be right in the world.

Unfortunately for me, that didn’t happen. But, when the morning of my appointment rolled around, I got a call that something had come up with one of the DV victims that I work with, and even though I really needed to get to the appointment, she needed me more.

I canceled the appointment and rescheduled it for the following week, and to my surprise, the day before that appointment rolled around, it simply vanished.

Photo Credit: Giphy.com

I thought about it, and knowing that the laws of irony assured that if I didn’t go to the appointment, the lump would come back (and not wanting to cancel on the doctor again), I decided to go to the appointment anyway.

After Four Years, I Ran Into My Brother, And It Wasn't What I Was Expecting

As some of you know from my frantic Facebook post a couple months ago, I ran into my brother at a restaurant. I was out with a couple of girlfriends for a ladies’ night, and we were chatting at a table, enjoying dinner, when I looked up and realized that I was sitting about fifteen feet from my brother, who was drinking at the bar.

Oddly enough, even though my entire family doesn’t live that far from me, in four years I have only ever run into one person, and that was the time I saw my mother at the grocery store.

Now suddenly, there I was, looking at the brother that I have not laid eyes upon in years.

Panic does not even begin to describe the feeling that ripped through me, because although I don’t care about him enough to be emotionally uncomfortable by his presence, physically he scares the shit out of me due to his hulk-like temper.

You May Have Missed This...

Happy 4th of July! I hope that all of my American friends had a wonderful holiday! My holiday was spent working at a concert beer tent, with the rest of my nonprofit board, and taking the kids to our local fireworks festival. 

It was great!

After that, we spent the day recovering in a friend's pool while her amazing boyfriend BBQ'd for us.

With that being said, no time for a real blog this week! But, I've been pretty busy working over at Yahoo and Babble, and not to puff myself up, but I think these last few weeks have been my favorite in terms of article content.  I've had the opportunity to cover a lot of topics that we discuss on this blog, and really touch on a few issues that are dear to my heart.

Since I know that many of you are strict blog-readers-only and don't follow me on Facebook, I wanted to gather up my favorite articles that have run in other places, and drop them here for you.

Plus, if you don't read the article that I wrote to my husband's new wife, what will be talk about?

I'm Super Excited To Post This!!

As I said a few weeks ago, we FINALLY moved out of the hotel, and back into our home, after a flood displaced us for a while.

It still wasn't quite finished when we moved back in, but we were so ready to get out of the hotel that we didn't even care.

Stand Tall, Even If Your Ex's New Wife Sucks

Every single morning, before I drop my kids off at school, I take a minute to say something to them, that I feel might be one of the most important thing they hear all day. The kids know it so well, that I only have to say the first part before they excitedly chime in with me.

Make good choices, and be a good friend, because the world needs kind people, with smiley faces.

*************************

I have a good friend who is basically a professional internet sleuth, and recently, she looked up my ex, and sent me photos of him, his new wife, their two kids, and her extended family. Sitting there looking at the photos, I was struck that the only thought I had was “how on earth did he con all of those normal looking people?”

Then I thought back to when he originally joined my family, and had cried his little sob story about why he didn’t have any people in his life, and my extended family scooped him right up.

My grandma was kind to him in ways that make me sick to think about — knowing that he was manipulating us the entire time — such as his first Christmas with us, when she went out of her way to buy gifts for him so that he would feel welcome in our family.

Eventually, when I finally met his parents — the people he tried to keep from me — and I realized that he had lied about most of the life he had claimed to lead, I felt like an idiot. And when the lies and his true personality came pouring out until there was nowhere left to hide, and no one left that would protect him, he split.

Then he started over with the poor woman that is married to him now.

I Like Your Fuzzy Balls Daddy, And Other Things You Never Want To Hear Your Children Say (A Lesson In Context)

So, after several weeks of living in a hotel after our house flooded, we finally came home on Sunday. Sure we don't have working appliances, bathroom doors, and a lot of other things that many people would consider a necessity in their house, but at least we are home where we will continue to rebuild.

But, before we left the hotel, this happened:

#IWillPostANoMakeUpSelfie  #IWillAlsoMakeItBlackAndWhite #BlackAndWhiteHidesMyPale

#NoShame  #Lies

And I laugh, because I am a dork, and then I look at my kids and laugh even harder, because poor kids, they are turning out just like me. And I can prove it, by sharing a week with you that we had right before our house flooded.

So, Our House Flooded

So, our house flooded.

And, it wasn't a tiny flood.

We are now living in a hotel.

Yep, and we've been here for a week already.

Thanks Boy Child.

I wasn't home when the flood occurred. I got a call from our babysitter saying that something had happened to the toilet on the third floor, and water was now dripping from the second floor ceiling. She said the water had stopped, she had wiped up the bathroom floor, and she put a pot under the leak in the ceiling.

Figuring that I'd need to open the drywall a bit and let it air out before I patched it, I wasn't too worried, but let's just say that some water dripping from the ceiling was the least of my worries once I got home.

Water, was EVERYWHERE.

This Is How We Roll...

If you remember from my last post, "Don't Tell Me I'm Losing My Son," I was having a difficult time finding joy amongst The Boy Child's complicated health situation. I felt like I was swimming, and swimming, and I wasn't getting anywhere, except closer to the bottom of the pool.

But, if you also recall, sitting there on the bottom, I realized that I needed a reminder that life is what I make of it.

In keeping with my desire to live intentionally, I looked back over my photos from the last couple of months, and suddenly, I was able to see things in a different light. Yes, there were times when The Guy found himself pulling a wagon, for a child that was too weak to walk, and there were nights when I went out with my friends, only because I knew that I needed to step out of "epilepsy" for a minute and take a breath. But looking back, I was able to see what I hadn't necessarily seen in that moment; joy, family, memories, and life.

I saw us living life, despite the fact that it wasn't always perfect.

So, since you've listened to me cry over the last few posts, I hope that you will join me in this one, while I take you back over the last few weeks to laugh, giggle, and smile with with us, as we live our lives. 

Please Don't Tell Me I'm Losing My Son

"Momma, I'm blowing on a wishing flower, and I'm wishing no more doctors"

Horatio G. Spafford, his wife Anna, and their five children lived in Chicago in the late 1800’s. Horatio was a successful lawyer with a booming business, when tragedy struck and pneumonia stole the life of his young son.

That same year, the Great Chicago Fire destroyed his business.

Not willing to give up, The Spafford family pushed on, rebuilding the business, and holding their family together.

Two years later, Anna and their four children boarded the ship Ville Du Havre, hoping to find some relaxation and rest in Europe, with Horatio joining them a few days later.

But as fate would have it, tragedy struck again when the boat collided with another, causing the Ville Du Havre to sink.

Anna was found floating on a piece of wreckage, all four of her remaining children drowned. “God gave me four daughters" she said to another survivor. "Now they have been taken from me. Someday I will understand why.”

She then wired Horatio a message that simply said, “rescued alone, what shall I do?”

********************

I didn’t want to come back here; back to this blog. Pages of my struggles, triumphs, chuckles, and tears, all melting together to showcase one thing; My Life.

When I first came here, I set out to see if anyone else felt the same way I did. I was looking for a light to lead me down my darkened path.

** BIG CHANGE **

Happy Friday!

"I'm so glad I just have a plain head again" the Boy Child said tonight in reference to having the EEG wires removed, and I couldn't agree more! That extended EEG was rough, and his poor head head blistered and welted from something they used on him.

And today, by the time most of you are reading this, I will be sitting in a hospital waiting room while he goes through some testing under anesthesia. Prayers would be appreciated!

Anyway, my reason for this post is to announce a big change.

BIG CHANGE

First off, do not panic.

DO NOT PANIC

It Was Always Meant To Be

On Friday, The Boy Child was hooked up for an extended video EEG, which basically means that a bunch of electrodes were glued to his head, several EKG electrodes were placed on his back, and then an EEG machine was wrapped on top of his head, therefore making him look like a smurf. The box was then attached to a larger box that he had to wear around his waist, and then all of that was connected to an extremely heavy video monitor that would record everything he was doing, at all times.

He screamed hysterically the entire time the electrodes were being applied; more out of fear and frustration then any actual pain, and I can't say that I blame him. 

This has been a rough ride.

My Husband Was TERRIFIED

So... I'm about to make fun of my husband, but it's OK because he gave me permission.

Source: Gipy.com

Sunday night (or rather, Monday morning), I was awoken from a dead sleep by the sound of my husband breathing rather heavily. Trying to figure out what was going on, I leaned over the pillow that had made its way between us, and saw that he was lying on his back, and beginning to hyperventilate. 

My first thought was "he must be having a sex dream!" but as his breathing quickened and his face began to reflect panic, I realized that he was actually having a nightmare.

Please Pray For Us

Do you ever have those days where you feel so overwhelmed, that you don't feel like you can even think straight?

I'm having that month, and I'm not sure where to even start explaining.

Things have been a bit chaotic in the Strong household, and I'm spending more time crying and praying that I don't completely fall apart, than I would like to admit. And I know, it's not the most graceful or attractive way to portray myself right now, but it is what it is.

I'm struggling.

I Need A Favor From All Of You

Happy Saturday Everyone!

The Guy and I had a fun little date night last weekend....

The Things You Learn While Sitting In A Cave

The Naperville Salt Cave

***************

So... I dislocated my elbow, and I don’t even have a good story to tell. No really. I was picking up the laundry basket, and it just popped right out. "What the hell?" right?

Yep.

At least now, two weeks later, it’s looking much better.

Life lately, has been INSANE. I feel like I’m constantly being pulled in a million different directions, and I am one sick day away from my entire schedule collapsing. I know that many of you can relate, so let me ask you, how do you do it?

Because this momma right here, is Worn. Out.

Last Friday night my Bestie and I were trying to make plans to go out for a girl’s night, and we were both so overwhelmed and tired that not a single thing was sounding appealing to us. Suddenly I remembered something that had heard about the week prior....

Finally, Another Episode Of "Conversations I Didn't Think I Would Be Having This Week"

A few days ago, The Boy Child came home from school with this picture of Abe Lincoln in his folder:

Not knowing if it was some kind of homework, I asked him what it was.

Boy Child: (Looks at me like I'm an idiot) "That's Abraham Lincoln. He is dead."

Me: "Yep. yes he is. What is this for?"

Boy Child: "He is dead!"

Me: "I know he is dead, but what do we need this paper for?"

Boy Child: "He was watching a play, and he got shot in the ear, and now he is dead."

Me: "Uh, interesting lesson for a kindergartner, but what is this paper for? Are we supposed to be doing something with it?"

Boy Child: (Clearly exasperated) Shouts "Don't you even care if he is dead!?"

Me: (Also exasperated) "Yes, of course I care that he died, but what are you supposed to be doing with this picture of him?"

Boy Child: "IT'S BECAUSE HE DIED."

I Don't Want My Ex To Move Back Into My House

Well, to jump right into it, last week’s post stuck with me more than I was expecting. (If you haven’t read it yet, I’d suggest doing that before you continue on, but for the TL;DR, I've found my feelings of anger towards my ex, reignited as I watch The Guy with my children.)

Anyway, it’s been interesting for me to reflect on last week’s post. Although I stand-by everything I said in terms of not letting my negative emotions consume me, as with any source of anxiety, sometimes it takes a while to figure out where it stems from.

Then sometimes, you figure it out and it just clicks.

I was married to my ex for twice the time that I’ve been divorced, and although I hate to admit it, I still feel more like the wife that was left behind by her first husband, than the wife I am now. 

Pumpkins At Midnight

Five years ago, my ex took The Girl Child to a Daddy Daughter dance, and in the morning, he walked out of our lives forever.

Last Friday, exactly five years since that night, The Guy escorted The Girl Child to his very first Daddy Daughter Dance.

And although The Girl Child has been blessed with a "Stand-In Dad" for the dances in between the last one with her biological dad and this first one with The Guy, there is something extra special about being able to go with someone who won't say "goodbye" at the end of the night.

She has already had too many men in her life walk away from her.

My Ex Is Ruining My Marriage

Last Friday, she called me at 6am, 9am, 12pm, 4pm, and 2am, and then her family called me at 3pm and 7pm.

And she is just one of my many nonprofit clients.

I absolutely adore her and she is definitely one of my favorite clients, but she is going through some really tough things right now, and even though her life is not my own, I am beginning to feel emotionally overwhelmed and exhausted.

**********

For Christmas, The Guy gave The Boy Child a Ninja Turtle shaving set, and he couldn’t have been more thrilled.

Breakfast Cookie UPDATE!

Hey, remember those SUPER easy breakfast cookies that I gave you the recipe for? The ones that were so easy to make that it was practically lying to say that I had baked them, but yet the kids absolutely loved them?

Well, I made a few the other day (along with about 60 Pancake Muffins)....

.....and in the process, I found a way to make them better!!

For those of you who missed the original recipe post, I am going to start by posting it below before I move on to the update, which will be at the bottom of this brief repost:

*********************

Breakfast Cookies 

What You Will Need:

This Is A True Story And The Cop Is Real

****************

Right before The Girl Child's extended hospital vacation, I traveled to Florida with The Guy and the kids for something.

In typical Strong family style, we decided to make everything a little more dramatic than it actually needed to be, and took a plane ride with the most turbulence that I have ever experienced in my life.

Seriously, this was no joke. It was so bad that after we took off, they canceled all flights out of the airports in our path, with routes that were heading in the same direction as us. Even the flight attendants spent virtually the entire flight seated, and The Boy Child, well, he vomited everywhere.

Repeatedly.

Conditional Basis

Complications

We are still here.

Poor kid has just had a lot of complications that we weren't anticipating.