Here is the winner of the Photofiddle.com giveaway. Ladies, please don’t be intimidated by a) my manicure or b) my raspy voice. Nails don’t stay pretty when you work with second graders and wash your hands 50 times a day, and the voice is the result of a sinus infection and lungs full of mucus. See how much the hand washing helps?

I asked my son to show you his Elvis impersonation and you will note he stays in character throughout the clip. Well, at least his upper lip does. He is a consummate professional.

Congratulations, Chuck!

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In all honesty, I have never done a giveaway or a review because that’s not what this is about. This is my creative outlet, not a place to offer up goodies and bribe you to show up. Not that I am above being bribed, because I’ve entered into many a giveaway. And won exactly nothing.

There is also a small matter regarding a certain agreement, with a particular company, who may or may not reside permanently on my sidebar, and who shall remain nameless.

But, last week I realized that the real problem is that these companies have been going about their approach all wrong. If you really want me to talk about your stuff, then kick me where it hurts. Right in the sentiment. Also known as “girl parts”.

So when Photofiddle.com showed me that they could take one of your pictures and turn it into artwork, and that they would let me give away a $50.00 gift certificate in the process? Well, hot diggity! I jumped on board.

One, because I love the idea. Two, because I know what it’s like to have no money. And three, because Valentine’s Day is coming up, and who really ever comes up with an original Valentine’s Day gift? You are all welcome for the awesome idea.

You can take a picture of a pet and have it turned into a watercolor-style, like this…

Or, a picture of your child can be turned into an oil painting-style like this…

Or, a photo from your honeymoon can be changed into impasto-style, like this…

And, there are plenty of other options for you to choose from.

To enter this $50.00 gift certificate giveaway, just leave a comment between now and 6:00 PM EST on Sunday, January 25th. Even if you don’t win, you can get a 15% discount at Photofiddle.com by entering the code mom15 on the shopping cart page in the promotion code box.

Happy Photofiddling, everyone!

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If all goes as planned, tomorrow morning at 6:00 AM my husband and I will be arriving at the hospital with our six year old son for surgery.

This is not major surgery. It is as minor as minor can be. The ENT could probably do this tube surgery with his hands tied behind his back.

But, there is enough risk to my son that they changed the location from an outpatient surgery center, to a main hospital. Plus, it requires general anesthesia and that always makes me nervous. But, more than anything…there’s The Mask.

My boy has developed an extreme dislike for The Mask they use to put him to sleep. He’s terrified of it, because he knows it all too well. This will be his ninth time on an operating table, and sixth time under general anesthesia.

Two years ago, when he was in preschool, a group of firefighters visited his class and when one of them demonstrated a breathing apparatus, my son had a complete meltdown just hearing him breathe through it. He’s that scared.

He doesn’t comprehend the fact that this surgery is no big deal. He’s certainly been through worse. He doesn’t remember having a catheter inserted into his thigh that traveled all the way up to his tiny heart. He doesn’t realize that he stopped breathing in recovery after his tonsils were removed. Or, that he had to stay in the ICU for that surgery because, for him, it was a risky operation. He doesn’t know there were times we didn’t know if he was going to live.

His only concern is The Mask.

Personally, I’m looking forward to this surgery. His hearing loss is so bad that it’s like we’ve been living with a 90 year old. Everyone walks around yelling all the time, and even with our voices raised he still says, “What?” about 50 times a day. We can even see that he’s starting to read our lips, as if to say, “I’m done trying to listen to you people. I’ll just watch you talk.”

With the exception of the moment when they wheel my son down the hall to the operating room, tomorrow will be a good day. He’ll have a lot less pressure in his ears and his hearing should be better instantly.

Unfortunately for my son, the anesthesiologist won’t let me drive him around in a car until he falls asleep in the back seat, or rock him into a deep slumber. The Mask is unavoidable. And that stupid, little piece of rubber? Well, it breaks this Mommy’s heart.

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Look at what my husband found, in the far reaches of a cabinet while searching to see if we had any more cans of coffee. The cabinet goes so far back that it ends up behind our dishwasher. That’s my excuse anyway.

He didn’t find any coffee. Not that either one of us could think about drinking, or eating, anything after seeing this.

I found it particularly interesting that the forgotten potatoes look healthier than my spider plant.

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