My kids have embarrassed me a lot.  I know it’s supposed to be the other way around and it’s possible that I have skipped in the supermarket and walked down the aisle at Home Depot with my hand in my husband’s back pocket just to get my tween daughter all worked up.

But, I have never turned their faces red in church.

A couple of weeks ago, my son not only applauded after the priest finished his homily, but my daughter also leaned over and whispered loudly, “Mom, your roots are really dark.”

But, even they can’t trump what my husband did in church when he went rummaging through my purse looking for mints and instead pulled out a package of Beano.

I am not the healthiest person you will ever meet.  I have asthma, migraines, sinuses that drive me crazy from October to May, some strange auto-immune stuff going on and, on top of all of that, I don’t sleep much.  I am a blast at parties!  Call me!

I’m halfway kidding, because I am a blast (I’m modest too), but one of the worst things about being sickly is that your friends have to deal with it.

Sure, last year’s swine flu/pneumonia/suspected pulmonary embolism stopped my husband and his dad from leaving for a weekend trip and my mom was the one who rushed me to the emergency room when my doctor thought I was coming down with my SECOND case of viral meningitis, but it’s different when you have to put a friend out.

Like the time when I got a concussion a couple of years ago and my husband was out of town or when I went on my annual girls’ weekend and ended up with a migraine that made me so sick that I couldn’t keep my anti-nausea meds down.  I’m sure that watching me get IV drugs wasn’t on my friends’ lists of things to do when they were away from their kids for a few days.

But, maybe all of this happens to me for a reason.  Maybe it’s to show me that I have amazing friends, or to prove to the world that there really are good people who care about each other; or care for me…same difference.

In addition to being a creative outlet, a place where I have connected with other parents of children with medical issues, and being the board off of which I dove into a new line of work, blogging is a bonus because it has enlarged the group of people who would drive me to the hospital.

Photo courtesy of Mishelle Lane

When I was growing up, my immediate neighborhood had a handful of kids my age.  Within one block there were three boys and a girl with whom I spent many a summer night climbing trees and playing baseball.

One of the boys was a good friend and I spent a lot of time at his house.  He introduced me to Monty Python and he had a one-eyed, guinea pig.  No, that’s not a euphemism.

I had so much fun at his house.  I played his keyboard (oh my goodness, NOT a euphemism!), we battled at bumper-pool and there was a time, or two hundred, when we played video games.  Geekdom rules!

Fast forward to high school where one of my best friends was a boy.  I hung out at his house so much that when he moved away for good after high school, I still hung out with his mom all the time.  She and I used to have playdates for my daughter and her granddaughter.

I had another really good male friend during college, a group of men with whom I used to work that I’m still close to and, of course, there’s my ultimate best friend…my husband.  He has been with me through highs, lows, trauma, drama, thick and thin.  Mostly thick, if we’re discussing my thighs anyway.  Oh, and blogging; he’s been with me through that too.  He also pays our mortgage.  He’s a friend with all kinds of benefits.

Every one of these guys are people that I could see for the first time in years and pick up right where we left off.  There is no judging each other about the way we look, or what kind of moms we are, or feeling guilt because our house isn’t clean and theirs is, and they’re the head of the PTO and just made a craft and cupcakes and let their daughter have a slumber party where Supermom blended up cauliflower and put it into the punch, but the kids don’t even know they’re drinking vegetables!  Men don’t care.  I’m pretty sure they’re lacking the superficiality gene.  Because, there totally is one.

I am lucky that I have a husband who trusts me and understands that I like beer and football as much as I like home decorating and flowers.  He has a girl-friend (that’s a friend, who’s a girl) who goes to hockey games with him, because she loves hockey.  I don’t.
 
I feel more comfortable that he’s hanging out with her than with a lot of guys I know.  No offense, fellas.

And, if you are offended and feel like you need to argue that men and women can’t be friends, then me and my male, blogging bestie will take you down.  That’s right.  Downtown, Buster Brown.

Photo courtesy of Angry Julie.  Word.

Either that, or I’ll squish you with my chin(s).

A funny thing happens when, in a seven-day period, you have three doctor’s appointments, your car gets broken into, you take your kids trick-or-treating, have friends over for dinner, then your other friends open an art gallery, you attend a Cub Scout outing and fill thirty-six bags full of leaves.  Thirty.  Six.

All of that?  Means you don’t have time for a blog post.

So, in light of the events of the last week, and in lieu of an actual post, here is a continuation of my Life List. 

11.  Visit the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem.  Probably not the safest place to travel, but I’m willing to risk it.

12.  Get a tattoo.  This will be over my husband’s dead body.

13.  Taste each chocolate in the Intense collection from Richart Chocolates.  The categories are Balsamic, Roasted, Fruity, Citrus, Herbal, Floral and Spiced.  Need I say more?

14.  Go skinny dipping.  This won’t be pretty, so I’ll likely go it alone.

15.  Grow my own tomatoes.  Because my in-laws are probably tired of giving us all of theirs.

16.  Take a dance class.  I’d like it to be an old-school, hip-hop class, but I’m close to 40 and I think it might be illegal to shake my groove thing like that in public.  Polka, anyone?

17.  Learn how to properly skip a stone.  Though, not at the same time as #14.

18.  Sample 100 types of beer.  Natural Light Ice, I am not talking to you.

19.  Renew my wedding vows with my kids present.  That sound you just heard?  That was my husband screaming.

20.  Breed a dog and keep one of the puppies.  Yep, that’s still my husband.