life with WE

Isn't this how everyone unwinds at the end of the day?

We call her the purple people eater with this cast.

And although it's not waterproof, and goes almost to her armpit and she can't grip anything in that hand, it's not slowing her down from too too much.  For instance, she still can rock the house on the beginner setting of guitar hero, ROCK BAND.

When her gig is finished, she likes to relax in her chair.

And then purple people eater's brother takes the stage.  Rocking out to Sweet Home Alabama.

You can see purple people eater's brother's manager keeping an eye on things in the background.  The boys gotta bring in some money you know.  (And yeah, it's like 95 degrees out and my son wears his winter pajamas.  What of it?)

Don't worry if he can't hit the notes, he's got flair.

And then when the purple people eater's brother is finished rocking, his manager takes the stage.  Showing us all up by playing on hard or difficult.

Oh he rocks people.  Bring out your Bics and flick 'em.  FREE BIRD!

So as you can see, life with a purple cast isn't that much different than normal.  I mean for God's sake, the girl still thinks she's a supermodel.

Just please PLEASE don't mention s-w-i-m-m-i-n-g.  M'kay?

Snuggle me?

In case you were wondering, snuggling with a five year old in a fiberglass arm cast is a lot like snuggling a bleacher seat.  Or snuggling with a fingernail file.  Or snuggling with a painful, heavy, scratchy ass thing that hurts you.

True story.

I keep telling her that you can't snuggle people all morning in kindergarten, but she won't listen.  She's CONSTANTLY ON ME.  And I know, "one day you'll miss it".  Yeah, well right now I cannot wait for that day.

Perhaps if she'd only snuggle me like once a day I could handle it.  But once I sit down anywhere, she tries to find me and get on me. 

I guess I need to be in constant motion.

Because when it rains, it pours

So the cast.  Still going strong there.  She's actually doing well, I have no photos, I'll take some.  It doesn't seem to slow her down too much.  She wigs out when water is mentioned - swimming, sprinkler, rain - realizing that she can't go.  That part is not too fun, but I keep using our next appointment on July 24th as our hope.  And MY GOD if we do not get a waterproof cast then, I think I'll offer her some of my vodka and we can drown our misery together.  Five isn't too young to drink, is it?  (I AM TOTALLY KIDDING, DO NOT CALL FOR HELP.)

In addition to the cast fun, now we have financial fun.  In the form of the transmission on the Mountaineer.  For months, quite a few, I've known something isn't right.  There's been hesitation when it switches gears, some knocking and finally three rounds of slipping.  You don't have to be a mechanic to know that noisy transmissions are not good.  NOT GOOD at all.

I did however, drop it off at a mechanic, highly recommended and trusted, and viola, transmission sucks.  Repair costs range in options from 1500 to 2700 dollars.  My car is worth about 3900.  Suck suck suck.  Could fix it, and hope for the best.  Could fix it, and more things would go wrong - it is seven years old with 116,000 miles on it.  Could use fix money as down payment on a new or used car, and then would have car payment.  You know what?  All of the options suck.  SUCK LIKE A HOOVER.

Toss in trouble parenting Warren lately and you've got the makings of a great summer show starring ME.  Yea me! 

But I am so over pity parties for myself - I've had too many lately - that I'm just going to try to roll with the punches.  Not sure how I'll do it, but I know I can.