Taco Aficionado

Man, I love tacos. I was a taco fiend when I was pregnant with Eva, and one of her first words was TACO (referring to her vagina).

My mom tried the new stand-up, flat-bottom taco shells. They are easier to fill, but she said they break so much easier. My idea is that they sell taco holders in the taco shell aisle at the grocery store. You’d be able to stand 3 taco shells up in them separately, fill them without mess, then eat one at a time without the others falling over.

They could have plastic washable ones or paper disposable ones. I’m full of ideas, but have zero follow-through. So someone out there needs to manufacture my taco holders and don’t sell them at WalMart, for God’s sake, but sell them at the grocery store.

Bumper Sticker Addict

Aron got me this for our anniversary. He couldn't choose hair color and says we all look Mexican. That's cool; we'll fit in better at our church. You can get these at this site.

Michael's Logic

This morning I hear Callie crying upstairs. In a house with 5 kids, someone is crying every 5 minutes, but still I go to investigate. Mostly because Aron's home today and I want to make sure I look like a good mom to him (yeah right ... he knows the truth by now).

Callie comes down the stairs and says Michael smacked her arm. I ask Michael why he did that, tell him we don't hit, blah blah blah.

He goes, "She said nothing hurts her." So he smacked her to show her that things do hurt her.

Today I'm going on a little date with my oldest son to D'Bronx to eat pizza and chat (his choice), then to Target so he can get a Nerf gun with his allowance so he can further terrorize his siblings and friends.

Eva is closing in on the age of 2 and can say the word "Plumpy" so cute!

Samwich is 1 month old today and starting to chunk up like a true McLoughlin. Nursing is going well ... still getting some formula each day, but at least I'm not shelling out billions of dollars on the stuff. What will I do when the free cans run out? If you leave the word "pump" in the comments section, I'll track you down and give you a spankin'. I hate pumping and get minimal milk, so don't even suggest it, Bloggy Peeps.

Catch ya later.

PenMark Potions

So what are you going to do with your extra hour today? I'm gonna spend 1/2 with my family (raking a leaf pile for my kids to jump in, most likely) and 1/2 weeding through some piles of papers.

One thing I keep meaning to do is to write about the cool products from PenMark Potions. Right now I'm loving the Skin Repair Salve, but there are so many other great oils and lotions and they smell fantastic!

Penny is the cool chick who runs this little company, and she is also known as the Rock n' Roll Grandma because she used to cater all the best rock concerts in Kansas City. Oh, the stories she could tell (and she has ... click on the ABOUT US link to get to her Boomer Girl blog and to sample her memoir).

Check her out!

I'm Still Alive ...

Aron went back to work last week and took the Lovely Laptop with him, so posting has been sparse. He brings it home every night, but uses it for ... actual work til like midnight every night.

I've been also lost in the land of Cub Scouts, Halloween, thank you notes and completing our Passport to Adventure (you go 15 places out of 22 in KC and get a stamp at each place like on a passport ... then the kids each get a "price package" in the mail).

I've also been lost in Rich and Famous Land since I sold my 10th e-book ... I know ... VERY impressive. I'm headed for Oprah any day now.

Anyway ... I'm slowly working on more blog posts that don't revolve around pregnancy or baby brain. I have a particularly compelling one about tacos that I just have to somehow get off my home computer and onto a thumb drive and then onto the laptop. Sheesh. So don't give up on me, Bloggy Friends.

Lame-O Baby Brain

Lack of sleep truly makes you stoopid! Right now Aron is at church with the boys scouring the grounds for good kindling wood for winter fires. Eva is playing at the kitchen sink. Sam is sleeping in a nice vibrating bouncy seat ... a rare moment out of my arms and off my boobs. Callie is watching some TV and hopefully staying out of trouble. I got some "me time" and submitted a bunch of reprint articles last night and today have been sending out invoices and being thrilled with some positive responses. Gotta go change a nice poop of Eva's, and she's waking up Sam with some good crying at me right now (tired but won't go to sleep).

Such is my life these days, and life is good.

Finally Some Pictures!

We Love Weddings (and Wedding Favors)

Who doesn’t love a good wedding? Aron and I love weddings, and now our kids do, as well. I recently came across this site for wedding favors that you should definitely check out if you know of someone who is planning a wedding or if you are planning one yourself.

I think that what guests take home from a wedding will remind them of the happy couple long after the festivities are over. For example, Aron’s cousin recently had a nice wedding reception outside of a barn. The decorations were amazing … beautiful flowers, Christmas-type lights, candles, etc. The take-home wedding favor was a beaded candle holder. Here are a couple of pictures from that wedding:



Whenever we light a candle in the special candle holder, we remember that evening fondly … a cool evening for August for sure. If I had our wedding to do over again, I would get these cute little candy jars with our names printed on them and fill them with M&Ms or some other naughty chocolate treat.

Woo Hoo!

Tonight I type as I hold my sleeping baby in my arms. Couldn't get to the task of uploading new pix, but will soon! Just know there are good ones of all siblings holding little Sam. On top of endometritis, I also have hypertension and am supposed to be just hanging out, which is hard to do. Anyway, more later, as Sam is screaming hungry now and nursing is going just okay so far ...

Day 6 Without Sam at Home

Today I had to go to the doctor and was diagnosed with endometritis. Thankfully it was something simple that explained the chills, fever, huge belly and so on. I'm on antibiotics now. Got to see Sam at the hospital for a few hours also! I prayed as I latched him on, and I think I even heard a couple of tiny swallows, although my milk is far from in.

The plan is to bring Sam home Tuesday evening, so don't expect to hear from me too much after that! I'll be snuggling my baby and wrenching him away from all the friends and relatives who come to visit him!

Everybody have a great week ... I know I will!

Progression!

Saturday Aron and I got to hang out at the hospital for hours while my mom took care of the kids and they were actually GOOD! Eva didn't even cry ... amazing! Sam got his feeding tube out of his nose, moved to a big-boy crib, and I got to try to nurse him (so far I'm empty, but still pumping, and our nurse said her milk didn't come in until Day 10 while she had gotten to take her own baby home on Day 9). Saturday night Aron took the 3 oldest kids up there (only 4 people at a time, so no family picture so far). Here are some pictures! Ignore the creepy IV in Sam's head ... he wiggles too much to put it in his foot or hand anymore.

Breast Pump Fun

Callie agrees: you gotta take your fun where you can get it during stressful times. I hate pumping with a passion, but I'm doing it anyway for Baby Sam ... I usually have zero problems nursing (I do realize not everyone can or even wants to), so I love the cost, environment, convenience and diaper odor benefits. Today is Day #5 since he's been born ... wish me luck in getting that milk in for him so we can sit around on the couch all day nursing and watching Flipping Out and Mad Men.

UPDATE! Meconium Aspiration, the NICU, Samuel's Birth Story and 10 Years Later!

Samuel Scott McLoughlin
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
7 pounds, 7 ounces
Labor started around 7 a.m.

Freaky facts first
All my boys’ names end with –el
My girls' names end in vowels
All my kids’ names and my own real first/middle name contain 11 letters
All my kids’ names start with a different letter so I can quickly jot down an initial when I journal about them or write an initial on a sandwich baggie
Only one of my kids’ births took our doctor away from his office patients; the others were born either at night, on a weekend or on his day off

Thank you, Tresa (my husband's cousin who is the closest thing I have to a sister), for posting about Sam's arrival here!

I woke up around 7 to contractions. Since my shortest labor had been about 5 hours, I figured I had plenty of time to get to the hospital. I lay around snuggling Eva, making sure she was asleep so I could get up and start timing contractions. They seemed very close.

I went to the kitchen to have a fruit popsicle (my breakfast for the last couple of weeks since I’d been waking up to my own personal summer daily!) and time contractions, but wasn’t getting anything regular at all. I called my friend Eva to get the rule on contraction spacing at 7:55. She said if I can’t talk through them, I needed to get to the hospital.

Each one hurt quite a bit worse than the last, so around 8 I started calling Mom to watch the kids, Aron, Sally the Doula and the doctor’s office. Accordingly, everyone took their time. Called Mom around 8:20 to find out she was just leaving her house, then had Aron try to call some friends, neighbors and finally his mom, who showed just in the knick of time it turns out.

Poor Aron! By the time he got home I was in deep labor sitting in the kitchen chair and was in pain nonstop, but I knew I had to get to the couch or lay down somewhere. I barely made it to our living room couch and hung out on my side moaning through the contractions, which had almost no break between them, which was freaking me out.

I couldn’t even consider the possibility of WALKING to the truck and RIDING in it on the way to the hospital, so I freaked out a little and spat out “911” at Aron, who was still skeptical at this point about me being in such hard labor. As he was on the phone explaining the situation, I’m yelling “5” at him … as in, “tell them this is kid #5 and they’ll haul some serious butt.” When I heard him tell them the contractions were 2 minutes apart I just about growled at him, “NO space between!!!!!”

Aron says to me, “The operator wants you to do a few things.” I glared at him. He goes, “He wants you to get down on the floor.” I glared more. “He wants you to take off your pants.” DUH … like I can have a baby with my sweats on! But I COULD. NOT. MOVE. I was thrilled when I heard the ambulance coming about 8:45. They were great about getting me on the stretcher and out the door. Eva and Callie were still asleep. Aron’s mom just arrived. Aron followed the ambulance in his truck. WHY oh WHY do they go normal speed to the hospital while telling you over and over NOT TO PUSH? I’m like, “HURRY UP … you’re an ambulance … if you can’t speed, WHO CAN?!”

The ride was insane. Imagine feeling like you’re dying and being hooked up to an IV (which doesn’t work and turns your arm purple), then another IV then having an oxygen thingie strapped to your face. Then having these guys asking you questions to DISTRACT you from dying! One of the guys went to my church, so I knew all my good cuss words were going to be wasted, and I simply breathed and panted the whole way, pausing only to spit out the occasional answer to a question like, “How old are your other kids?” or “Where do your kids go to school?” or “How old are you?” I think one was hitting on me with that last question, but I had to concentrate on not birthing no baby. I did, though, respond at one point with, "Could you please take my sweatpants ALL THE WAY off?" I hope that wasn't like a turn-on for them: me in my sexy blue sweats.

After a nice bumpy ride, they get me out and we stroll toward the elevator. Someone makes a comment like I can name a girl Ellie if I have it in the elevator. As we round the corner for the birthing room, I GOTTA PUSH just one tiny little time. And there was Sam’s head. Saw a bunch of people in the room, but not my doctor … they moved me from stretcher to bed (ouch), a couple of nurses pulled my legs back and I was told to push. FINALLY. I did, and there was Sam’s body. Covered in poop, evidently. The delivering nurse tried to suction out as much of it as she could. They took him away from me to clean him up and here comes the doctor. Then Aron showed up … because they kept him delayed in the ER. I’m so disappointed because he’s never missed a birth. I think we might chew out the ER person who held him up and make them invent a time machine to fix the situation.

I was so proud of my unmedicated birth, but then I was bleeding too much due to an old and well-used cervix, so the doc had to do a painful exam and gave me Stadol for the pain, which made me feel nice and drunk and weepy for the entire rest of the day.


I finally got to hold him around half-hour after he was born, then they told me he’d ingested meconium and they needed to take him to the nursery for tests and that I could not nurse then (hated that). I wasn’t too worried until he’d been gone a few hours and the doc came back in with another doc to explain that they needed to take him to the best NICU at another hospital. WHAT?!

So around 2 p.m. they rolled him in in his transporter box all hooked up to tubes, and when they took him away I cried harder than I ever have before in Aron’s arms. Second prize for crying goes to when we rode home on Thursday without him in our van.


Yes, you may call him a little poop. It’s some meconium aspiration humor and it is acceptable in our home, especially since he is going to be just fine! His tubes are out and as of this writing he is being fed with a tiny bottle while I try to pump milk for him. He still has an IV in for his antibiotics, which is the only reason he will probably have to stay until the middle of next week.

Thanks for all your love and prayers and good thoughts! And to our parents and very best friends for their support and to the nurses and especially to Ellen, who came up to spend the night in my room in a recliner (and hunted down Coke for me at 5 a.m.) while I slept in my queen-sized Murphy bed with Eva and Callie and tried desperately to get some sleep by deluding myself into thinking I was still pregnant and that was why my Sam wasn’t snuggled up next to me.

Obviously, we can’t wait to get him home! Aron’s home from work but working (you know how that goes), so I’ll steal the laptop when I can for updates.

*Aron’s probable birth story version: “Dang, that went FAST! Hated to miss it, but I’m sure she was beautiful while pushing.” (He has this great set of goggles, folks, and thinks I look good no matter what I’m doing … thank God I snagged him!)

This is how he was all hooked-up when we first saw him at the NICU:


Never fear, parents with a baby in the NICU, because the very next day I got to hold him and "feed" him (my finger in a binky for him; his food in a nose tube). Now he's only hooked up to an IV.


Here is Samuel today! Healthy and happy and ornery as any McLoughlin/Solsberg child would predictably be :-) Thanks be to God for our children.

By the way, here is a piece I wrote about how to support a friend with a baby in the NICU.

And this one is called Life After the NICU.

2019 update and here is Sam at double digits 10 years old!

Happy 11th Anniversary to Me

Since I’m blogging way in advance in case the baby came sometime last week, this one is to let ya’ll know today is my 11th wedding anniversary. Aron was gunning for having the baby TODAY since it’s also his mom’s birthday, but I was gunning for a different day. We’ll see …

In the meantime, I’ll direct you to this post, which I wrote a year ago about how Aron and I met and which eventually turned into a cool little article in The Kansas City Star.

UPDATE: Today my mom is coming over to watch the kids so Aron and I can go see Sam by ourselves ... that's our date :-) Then to grab some food. The kids' treat is McDonald's for lunch FINALLY since they got scrooged out of it the day Sam was born since I delivered so fast!

Appearances

Just because someone is doing something, it doesn’t mean that’s necessarily what they WANT to be doing, what they LOVE doing. People get so hung up on other people’s choices and attach those choices to who they ARE as a person, which is a big mistake.

For instance, cloth diapers are great for saving money and landfill space. They aren’t an inconvenience to me and I could say good things about them all day long. But I’d rather be using disposables all the time.

And my homeschooling method is such that I use bought stuff, like a Catholic-based program of workbooks and other fun-ish (secular … oh, my!) workbooks. I try to stick with it. But I’d rather try radical unschooling. I’m just afraid of the State. And my husband probably wouldn’t be a fan of something so unstructured and fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants.

Think about these things the next time you visit a friend’s huge, beautifully decorated house that you are jealous of. Maybe she hates it, but her husband wanted it to show off. Maybe she hates all the time it takes to clean it. Maybe she is in debt over having such a large home. Maybe SHE is jealous of YOU because you have a smaller house and you husband doesn’t mind if you have toys strewn all over the stained carpet floor every now and then.

Samuel is here!!

Hi, this is Tresa writing for Kerrie, who's chained to a hospital bed (picking the lock, as I was talking to her this morning, though), unable to get online to write and say hi.

Samuel flew into the world yesterday morning, and has since been transferred to a different hospital NICU because of meconium aspiration at his birth. As soon as Kerrie is released from the hospital she's at, she will go to spend a week or so with him until he's released also. I talked to her this morning and she says he's a little fighter, already trying to cough out the tubes they have running into him, and she hopes to be able to nurse him in a few days. She's doing well, feeling better after some sleep last night, and will be back soon with pictures and (I hope/request) a birth story.

Welcome to the world, Samuel, and congratulations to Kerrie, Aron, and their family!

Floam and Moon Sand

We like to provide a service here at The Kerrie Show, so I’ll let you in on what to buy and not to buy your kids, grandkids, whatever for Christmas.

Don’t by Floam. It sucks. It sticks to your carpet. It’s hard to get off your table. It’s like tiny Styrofoam dots in goo. I hate it.

DO BUY Moon Sand. Prepare to lose some along the way, but it vacuums up like a dream and wipes right off the table. Aron says it’s the consistency of what you’d get if you sat and erased stuff all day … it’s like eraser dust that sticks together. But it’s not sticky. Get a set with the blow-up “pool” for it so you can keep it contained.

And don’t worry: I’ll post pix of the new baby as soon as it’s born and as soon as I can make it to a computer with Internet access.

Gurgling Eva (like a babbling brook)

Dangit, sometimes I hate Blogger. I keep trying to upload a video of Eva gargling and cracking up. Wonder if I'd have better luck putting it on YouTube and then linking there? I don't have time for this crap. I have slothful things to do. Don't cry; someday maybe you'll see the video. It's all about exploiting my kids, right?

Mind Your Own Business, Neighbor Lady

Thursday night comes and that flipping neighbor who can’t mind her own business comes to my door at dinnertime to bug us about bikes in the yard. Gripes that these other kids leave their bikes out front overnight and wants to make sure we don’t. Which we don’t. We put our crap up every night in the garage.

She asks when I’m due. Aron tells her in 2 weeks. I say, “Any day now, and you’re gonna make it come faster by bugging us, lady.”

Then she tells my kids to put their shoes on so they don’t step in dog crap. I’m sorry, lady, but last time I checked, the kids came out of MY vagina. Caring about their wellbeing because I’m incompetent is one thing, but assuming I’m a deadbeat mother all the time gets old when you don’t even know me. And she loves to snipe at the kids when I’m not around. Snipes at my little babysitter about keeping Eva out of the street. Ya think?!

Why do people do that? It just makes ornery people like me wait until my upstanding husband leaves town and then put ALL our bikes in the yard and park my van in the front yard overnight and jack it up on blocks. Ooh, and devils and skeletons in the yard for Halloween.

Aron’s so sweet and listens to her and nods and makes her think he agrees with her. I get snippy and yell from the other end of the house, “Get a life! You bug everyone on this street and the next.”

So I get all pissed off and then I think, “That could be me when I’m old. I mean, I hope I don’t snipe at kids and stuff, but what if Aron’s dead and my kids never come around because I’m bitchy and I alienate people and all I do is call the city on people’s cars being 2 inches past the sidewalk? I have to NOT be like that.”

Another Brick in the Wall

Hey. Teacher. Leave them kids alone (grammatically incorrect sentence, dangit). Eva clearly is going to be a difficult student.

Can you tell I feel like crap and don't have the energy to put out thought-provoking posts? I'm doing these in advance in case I head to the hospital. Wouldn't want to leave you high and dry on the blog, pals.

Aron’s Family

You’re actually getting a pretty current blog post here … not a stale one that’s been put into the system a week in advance. This one is being put in on Saturday night about Sunday. So …

Lately I’ve been WORTHLESS. If I don’t feel sick to my stomach, I feel feverish or have a headache or sinus issue or just plain must lay around until I build up my energy reserves to be able to do something simple like go to the grocery store alone. Like today I had to lay around until almost 2:00 to be able to go do a fun family thing with Aron and the kids.

So tomorrow I’m going to church at 9 a.m. at Aron's insistence (holy crap!), then we’re driving about an hour away to see Aron’s family (which only happens twice a year … I really want to go so Joel can spend time with his treasured cousins), then later I’m being taken out for ice cream by 2 of my best friends (God bless them).

The NORMAL me would have no problem with this schedule … this would be a light day. The me as of late kind of wants to cry at the prospect of Sunday. And no, I’m not even worried about going into labor an hour from my hospital.

What was my point? Oh, my point is that I’m excited to see Aron’s family (his mom’s family … she’s the oldest of 11 kids). I love his cousins and aunts and uncles. They are nice, down-to-earth people. They will understand if I can’t get up off my butt at all. I love these people! And let’s not forget that my first husband’s family consisted of a bunch of materialistic jackholes. The dad had a some promise, but my biggest accomplishment in his eyes was the year I pulled in $18,000. I don’t make squat writing articles and mothering these days, but I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.

Tresa versus Callie

I have to shut up about Tresa because I’m starting to sound like I want to be her or something and I’m getting a little creepy. But here’s what happened the other day:

Aron was out of town and I was trying to get the boys ready for their fishing trip with him the very next day. I’d been to the doctor. I was trying to make dinner. I needed some sleep. And a drink. Then Callie starts in on one of her horrific tantrums … she wanted me to take a chair downstairs and I told her to wait and was on the phone with my doula. The screaming and crying and exorcist stuff started when Tresa offered to help her take the chair downstairs instead.

The second Callie started in, Tresa grabbed her and took her to her room, explaining how “Mommy’s making dinner and we’re not going to act this way right now.”

I was shocked.

In a great way.

How many people are you good enough friends with who would do that for you? I hope Ellen and Eva read this and know they have my total permission to do the same. Just watch out: Cal’s a real kicker and flailer.

Callie was not hurt. She was not yelled at. She was SERVED.

Recent Doctor Visit

So because Aron’s job took him out of town an extra day, I dragged all 4 kids to my 36 ½ week doctor appointment.

There’s a 6-month-old baby in a carseat at his mom’s feet waiting to be checked in next to me. Eva, of course, goes for the baby to just SEE him … didn’t touch him or charge him or anything like that. The mom YANKS the kid away; Eva tries to come SEE the baby again. The woman snottily goes, “Go find your mommy.”

I go, “I’m right here. It’s not like she’s going to hurt him or anything … she’s very gentle with lots of baby experience.”

Probably Lying Bitch: “He’s sick.” (he’s laying there looking happy as a freaking clam)

Totally Nice At This Point Me: “Oh, we don’t care. We’re totally healthy.”

Bitch: “I do.”

Me: “Dang, First-Timer Stereotype! You don’t have to be so rude!”

Then I went to give my glorious pee sample. I should’ve gone and TOUCHED her kid! Or at least the carseat handle. It’s not like I have the swine flu, but I wish I had the WINE FLU.

Yeah, I know, I’m a preggie on the edge. Then I went to my doctor and BEGGED him to please not do the dilation check (fingers in my hoo-ha for no good reason) today because I was going nuts today and just wanted to go home. And how is it that my blood pressure is always fine when they check it?

Upside: before we left, Joel sold the doc some popcorn that he’s selling for Cub Scouts.

Then we went home and had strawberry shortcake to celebrate my ZERO weight gain! I think everything I’m eating is going to the baby’s kickin’ foot.

Bedhead

Here's Little Eva's daily case of bedhead. She also looks like this when getting out of the car, no matter how much I brush her hair. But, hey, at least she HAS hair, unlike her Papa Dave, whose birthday is today!

The countdown is on for Baby #5 (due on 10/10, our anniversary), so if you see me skipping posts anytime soon, you'll know it's because I'm nursing nonstop. I'll try to be a good Bloggy Friend and post new-baby pix as soon as I'm able!

Matt Roloff – Help!

Have you ever seen that show “Little People, Big World”? It’s a family … the dad and mom are Little People, and only 1 of their 4 kids is a Little Person. The dad came up with a stool kit to sell to hotels to accommodate Little People so they don’t have to brush their teeth in the tub and so they can actually reach things, like the bed, the sink, the air conditioner controls.

I wish to God every single hotel had a few of these kits because they also accommodate CHILDREN. It stinks staying in a hotel for a month and having your kids get up on death chairs to brush their teeth or wash their hands … the floors are slick and the chairs have no skid-proof bottoms.

And don’t get me started on restaurant bathrooms … or bathrooms in any kid place, for that matter. Or in CHURCHES or schools! At drinking fountains. I’m not always able to lift my kid up to wash his or her hands, or else they have to sit on the counter to do it and get all wet.

Matt Roloff … please market this stuff EVERYWHERE. I’ll totally help you out for a cut of the profits.

Otis Spunkmeyer Sucks

Once upon a time Aron and I only had 2 kids. We went to a Starbuck’s on Labor Day just to hang out. When we left, Aron talked about how strong the coffee was, how thick. He joked about flattening it and I think I said something about making it a coffee cookie.

When we got home I started experimenting with making coffee-flavored chocolate chips to put in chocolate chip cookies. I baked a lot and just couldn’t get it right. I scoured the Internet looking for the chocolate chips I needed and found one company who made them, but they sucked. I knew I wouldn’t have time to sell the things even if I could get it right, but everyone I told loved the idea.

So I researched cookie companies and decided Otis Spunkmeyer would be a good fit for my idea. I wrote them in December of 2006 to tease them with my idea and never heard back. I wrote again in February of 2007 and flat-out gave them my idea of the Coffee Chip Cookie. Never heard back.

So now that I’m all famous with my blog and can do good and evil, I just want to tell Otis Spunkmeyer Company (specifically Roy Herman) that they are rude for not writing me back.

And if you ever see the Coffee Chip Cookie anywhere and absolutely love it, let me know it’s out there because I want to eat one.

Nuts, Part 2

Our kind neighbors took on my 3 oldest kids the other night while Aron was out of town so I could have some peace while the baby slept on me and I watched Madmen.

After an hour I hear the neighbor girl crying. I investigate.

She tells me that Joel threw a walnut at her and hit her in the head. Then she slipped on something and fell down.

Joel says, “She told me to throw walnuts at her. We were playing circus.”

I asked, “If she told you to shoot her in the foot, would you do that?”

And ya’ll wonder why I don’t think kids under the age of 12 should be left home alone, let alone left to care for younger siblings.

Maybe when my own kids are grown I’ll be a lobbyist for laws like that. By then I’ll have all kinds of good stories to share with Congress.

Nuts, Part One

Here’s what I hear one day while I’m cleaning my immaculate house (haha!!):

Joel: “Michael, punch me in the nuts. Not too hard.”

Michael: “Okay.” PUNCH. “Joel, punch me in the nuts now. But not too hard.”

Joel: “Okay.” PUNCH.

I don’t hear screaming, so I go check things out … and they’ve each stuffed a towel or something down their pants to pad the blow and are taking turns punching each other. I tell them to KNOCK IT OFF because I want grandkids someday.

Turn the Other Cheek

I am so curious to know your opinions on this one. Send this to your friends and have THEM comment, too. I really want to know the final vote on this one.

Let’s say someone is bullying your kid. Taking his lunch money. Pushing him around. One day the bully punches your kid in the stomach.

Have you taught your kid to be like Jesus and turn the other cheek, or do you go all Old Testament like I prefer and teach your kid to punch back?

My husband says if you let people bully you (physically or otherwise), they’ll always do it. Plus everyone else will see that you can be bullied, and everyone will get in on the action.

But if you hit back, the bully will stand down.

In my personal experience lately, the bully WILL stand down and leave you alone and respect you if you FIGHT BACK (verbally anyway).

I know Chris and Michelle are going, “NO KERRIE! Fighting solves nothing. Teach your kids peace.” But turning the other cheek certainly got me nowhere when I was in an abusive relationship. I shoulda just left, though, because punching him could’ve gotten me killed.

Opinions?

Welfare Comments

Check out my comments on the Depo/Welfare Check follow up post a few below this one. Dear God, I'm certainly not saying all poor people are lazy ... there are far too many people who make WAY too much money for doing what they do, then there are the people who don't make what they should (like my husband).

I know many hard workers who are broke. I just think taking a handout should be a LAST resort; you should act like it's not even there until you are in dire need. Unfortunately, our society today treats handouts like a RIGHT, when they are not. The Entitlement Mentality is what drives me nuts.

Otherwise, I love helping people out and volunteering and giving money away even though I don't have a lot extra to give. So check out my 2 comments, specifically directed at Breeze, who I really pissed off. Hope you come back, Breeze. By the way, my SIL was the single mother of 4 for many years ... all biracial kids and all smart as a whip who I pray will all go on to do great things.

Also ... better to get abortions when you keep getting pregnant or better to get the 3 months of birth control nasty evil chemicals? I've been to hell and back, people, and all I can say is THANK GOD I finally discovered WHAT CAUSES THAT by learning Natural Family Planning (free, no chemicals, accurate).

Kid Funnies

Back in June Aron asks Callie and the boys if they want to go to Franklin Park or Shawnee Mission Park to ride bikes. Callie goes, “Are those the only options?” She’s FOUR!

Same day
Joel says, “Oh, a sitting chair.” Like there’s another kind? Maybe a rocking chair. Is that like saying, “I killed you dead.” Note to self: work on redundancy in homeschooling this year.

Jon & Kate … Yes, I’m Going There

Somebody gave me the August 3 issue of US Weekly. Of course there was an article about Jon & Kate Gosselin. And of course I have issues. Here they be:

Kate “has been a pendulum of emotions, snapping at her children (even more so than usual) and withdrawing (even more so than usual) from the locals in Wernersville, Pennsylvania.” DO YA THINK?! I wouldn’t want to go near people either at a time like this. And of COURSE she is snapping at her kids and is a wreck. Do you think the host of this blog is Mother of the Year when her husband is out of town for weeks on end? Taking care of 8 kids alone (or even with a part-time nanny) while going through a divorce while your husband is all over the world with a younger woman AND being in the spotlight (their choice, I know) is HARD.

A worker at a hotel where Kate and the kids stayed said, “That woman should take lessons from Angelina Jolie.” There’s a big difference there, though. Angelina has 2 fewer kids and doesn’t have SIX the same age. Also Angelina has BRAD to help handle the kids.

There was a photo shoot and it didn’t end until 9 p.m., “long after most 5-year-olds’ bedtimes.” Not in my house! You don’t wanna KNOW what time we go to bed around here. But then they sleep in so that’s when I get my “quiet time.” The point is … who appointed 8 p.m. as the bedtime of choice for ALL little kids in America?

“When asked by Us about his new digs [in NYC, appx. $5,000/month], he replied, ‘It’s expensive!’” What a dork! I’m not clear on their financial situation and know he should get half of the money from the reality crap, but didn’t KATE write the books and then tour the country pimping it out?

“A source close to Jon notes that during the South of France trip, ‘Jon was on his cell to the kids all the time. They would call him, and he took the time to speak to them and describe what St.-Tropez looked like.’” Wow, that’s mighty white of you Jon, to TAKE THE TIME to speak to your children. Should I now give my husband an award for calling home every night when he travels?

On a different note, who wears high heels to a dude ranch, Kate? With 8 kids, you have to be dressed to chase their butts down if they try to get away from you.

AND … I’m always happy to see when people like her have kids who get cavities! Makes me feel better about my own parenting. And convinces me that fluoride actually might CAUSE cavities. Hmmm.

Did I Just Say That?

It seems like I blog weekly (or daily, sorry) about how surly I am.

The day Aron had to go to Phoenix for work (with a 36-weeks-pregnant wife at home), Joel called his cell phone to say hi. Aron had to get off the phone fast, though, and Joel told me it sounded like someone was yelling at Aron.

So here’s what comes out of MY mouth:

“They’d BETTER not be yelling at my man. His ass is out there as a FAVOR. His huge wife is at home with sinus issues and a doctor who’s pushing her to be induced. If they even LOOK at him funny, I will fly the 5 ½ of us out there and kick them all in the nuts.”

The scary thing is that I might actually do it.

The other night on Rescue Me, Sheila told Janet, “Sit down or I will kick you in the vagina. And you know I will.”

I was always the kid who was bullied on her way home from school and in the bathrooms in junior high. These days, it’s like I am totally the verbal bully to adults who annoy me and do stupid, selfish crap.

Don’t worry, readers, I’ll be back to nice and normal in a few weeks … or will I?

Let Kids Be Kids

The other night at the park, a mom of one (no offense to parents of single kids, but sometimes they can get a little over-fruity simply because they have the time to) had her 4-year-old son there. Not only did she hover over him every second, but when he started running for the swings, she told him, “Stop running! You don’t have your running shoes on.”

Is that like my “listening ears”? She probably called the State on me because my kids simply don’t wear shoes at the school park at all. At least her kid had nice sandals with good tread on them.

Anyway, here are some pix of my kids just being kids, since I’m like the best mom in the world and all that.

Depo/Welfare Follow-Up

I have to hand it to you all: you didn’t kick my butt as bad as I thought you would over that recent post. Tresa knows me very well … it was not a well-thought-out argument … it was just something goofy that came to my mind and I put it on the blog. I don’t think I’m anywhere in Ann Coulter’s ballpark, though, right? Good.

I once had a crazy-ass homeschooling friend who found out she was pregnant with her 10th kid. She cried because the only insurance they had was from HER working at Starbuck’s 20 hours a week. Twenty hours may not sound like much, but when you’re trying to homeschool a bunch of kids, keep the house from falling down and praying to God that your husband will get some meaningful work, it can be tough. I asked a stupid question and she unfriended me immediately. It was something like, “Can I help you? Like pay a utility bill or SOMETHING?” She said anytime anyone helped them like that, they expected things in return.

I can see where she’s coming from. If I had paid her outrageous gas bill, I probably would’ve eventually made some snarky comment like, “Um, why is your heat set at 90 degrees so that I’m sitting here SWEATING when you can’t even pay the bill?”

Still, the idea of the handout drives me nuts. We are far from the Great Depression days, folks, and yet so many of us feel ENTITLED to free daycare, free medical, dental and vision care, free food, free money and outrageously low rent. I am ALL FOR people being helped … TEMPORARILY. If your life sucks for 15 years straight, though, why does that have to come out of the taxes of those who are working their asses off every day? People like my husband, who gets upset when he has to go out of town, but he does it ANYWAY because it is a damn job and pays money to support his family.

We all have our stories either backing up my idea of trading a welfare check for a Depo shot or thinking it quite controlling. I had to use Medicaid when I was 18 and had a horrible miscarriage, but never have had to go on any other kind of assistance because, frankly, the idea of it was just never played with in my house when I was growing up. It was either WORK HARD or figure something else out, but you don’t take handouts.

UNLESS …

Of course, unless you have been badly disabled through no fault of your own (I’m sorry, but being overweight or alcoholic in my world does not fly for disabled). Or your house caught on fire somehow and burned down. Or a car wrecked into you and you are in bad shape.

There are things that simply suck and things we bring on ourselves. I’m just saying we bring on babies ourselves. And then have a good 8 months to prepare for said baby. You may have to suck it up and live with your parents, ladies. You may have to go after the guy for child support and put your pride away. You may have to work 2 jobs throughout your exhausting pregnancy to save up for your own place, car or baby clothes. WHY SHOULD YOU GET FREE MONEY JUST FOR HAVING A BABY?

So save STATE FUNDS for serious crap. If EVERYONE was on the government’s boob, our roads would not be drivable, people who REALLY needed help couldn’t get it (that actually happens now), our schools would suck (oops, that’s already happened).

Where are the State’s priorities?

Crap, I’m afraid I’ve offended in a whole new way now. Well, go easy on me. My brain isn’t working right, and I’m having trouble making coherent arguments that don’t hinge on generalizations.

Funny Meth Commercial

Sorry, folks, but I have a sick sense of humor. Tresa used to say she was cleaning her house like a crack whore, which always made me laugh. I didn't know there was an actual public service announcement-like video until she sent me over to YouTube to watch it. It's pretty catchy! And definitely will keep me off drugs. I'll continue to be a B12 momma to snag my waning energy fix. Enjoy! And if anyone knows where I can get me one of these women to clean my house, I can pay like $20/week! You're welcome, by the way, Schmidt, for putting the song back in your head. Let's see what ads run on the blog now!

Hardee’s

What a dumb advertising agency Hardee’s has hired. With their sexy ads, they are alienating an entire demographic … or two.

What the hell is so sexy about a hot chick eating a hamburger? An ice cream cone or a lollipop I can understand, but a hamburger?

So let’s assume the ads work well and they sell to many, many men.

What about the moms looking for a quick place to stop for a kid’s meal? You’re pissing off radical conservatives, lots of women, lots of moms, and so on.

I don’t really care about the commercials either way. But I also don’t think about hitting the drive-thru at Hardee’s EVER because I don’t know what they have for kids. And I’m thinking I probably wouldn’t be able to eat one of those damn thickburgers, no matter how big my mouth is in theory.

Plan B

I recently saw a commercial for the Plan B pill (like RU486). The slogan is, “Because the unexpected happens.” UN-EX-PEC-TED?!?!?!

So let me get this straight. You did the dirty deed with your man. Then the next day you went, “Oh, crap, I could have gotten pregnant. Why didn’t I think of that last night when I was in utter ecstasy, especially since I don’t have a clue as to when I am fertile? I’d better get my stupid doctor (who hands out prescriptions for anything and everything like they’re tissues) to call in a Plan B for me at the pharmacy! That way, I can get rid of a ‘maybe’ pregnancy and ease my conscience by not having to decide whether I want to raise a baby with my one-night-stand or grab an abortion.” (*this post does NOT apply to rape, by the way)

Look, if you don’t except to get pregnant from having sex, you have some big problems, girlfriend. Grab yourself a copy of Ms. Magazine and a copy of the book The Feminine Mystique and get to learnin’, sister. Our foremothers didn’t fight for the right to vote for us so we could be so clueless about our own bodies.

Yes, I know I’ve written about this before. And before you go labeling me as some right-wing conservative Catholic who doesn’t know what she’s talking about, let me just tell you that I DO know what I’m talking about and we’ll leave it at that for now because I don’t feel like sharing.

But kids are having sex so young. I knew KIND OF how my menstrual cycle worked when I was a teen but didn’t understand my FERTILITY (big difference) until I was about 27 ... no joke. That tidbit would’ve saved me some serious problems.

Parents, I’m begging you … find out for yourself and then let your daughters (age 10 or age 20) in on how their fertility works for those times when a guy tells her she can’t get pregnant the first time or he forgot the condoms or she’s missed her birth control pills for a few days.

Do you want her stumbling into Advice and Aid Crisis Pregnancy Center with her “unexpected” pregnancy and trying to figure out what to do and picking out maternity clothes donated by ME?! Do you want her attending post-abortive counseling for years? Taking anti-depressants because she made a huge mistake?

DepoProvera Shot in Exchange for a Welfare Check

Originally posted 9/17/09. Reposted to rile you up and see what you think!

I’m not about sterilizing women who’ve had a kid and can’t support themselves for whatever reason.

I have another idea.

How about when any female goes in to pick up her welfare check, food stamps or whatever, she gets the 3-month DepoProvera birth control shot? The Social Worker could be all jovial and go, "Trade ya a Depo shot for your welfare check, Sweetie!" It’s not permanent sterilization; it’s just 3 months of not getting pregnant and bringing a life into the world that she can’t take care of.

I think Natural Family Planning is great for a lot of women … women who can keep track of crap on a chart. I don’t personally ever again want any birth control chemical in MY body. But I can see its benefits to society,so I'm not anti. And no, genius, I don't just use NFP because "the Pope says so" ... I'm sure you know me enough by now to know I have a mind of my own.

Now, what to do about the MEN who go around making babies all over the place and can’t support them? How’s that research coming on the male chemical birth control?

My Hairy Legs and the Busy Beauty Showerless Shave Gel I Wish I Had

When I was pregnant with Joel, I was scheduled to be induced on a Sunday because I supposedly had gestational diabetes and my 3rd sonogram showed I was going to have one huge baby.

Like a good suck-up, on Saturday I made a cake to take to the hospital for the nurses and doctors to have post-birth. Aron painted my toenails. My legs were shaved, and I had showered that day. THANKFULLY I was not induced and went into labor naturally Saturday afternoon. I took the cake with me.

They told me I was one of their most polite laboring women. They would make me change positions to push, and I’d say THANK YOU. I didn’t cuss once. I was very cordial. They enjoyed the cake, but lost my damn cake pan.

Now I’m on my 5th baby, and I don’t care what my toenails look like. I don’t care if I’ve showered. I’ll probably drop some F-bombs at my doula and the mean nurse who might give me a baggie to puke in versus giving me IV meds for nausea.

And I’m thinking the hairier the better on my legs since Aron and the doula will need traction for when they are holding my legs back when I push (I’m a primadonna and for some reason can’t make myself hold my own legs over my own ears to push my baby out). Besides, it gets harder and harder to shave sitting down in a shower that’s as big as a shoebox.

I’ll have to let you know how it goes. Below is a bonus pic for you from when I was in labor with Eva, my fourth baby, and I had my dad and husband looking all freaked out! That labor went well and ... update ... she is now 10 years old and a happy, giggly little blonde girl! Oh, and baby #5 turned out to be Samuel, now age 8 and ALL BOY!

In 2018 I was sent this product to try, Busy Beauty Showerless Shave Gel. Here is my honest review of it. Kinda loved it!

Ice Cream Question

How come we had to pay for ice cream at the Ice Cream Social at the public school when our kids don’t even go there and they get approximately $1,000 of our money every year (for the last 10 years), but at the Catholic school they gave away sundaes for free?

No, we didn’t go to the free one. We aren’t TOTAL mooches.

Don’t you love blog posts like this one? Posts that really get to the heart of the matter and really make you ponder the state of the world. Yeah, right.

A Surprise, Unexpected, Accidental Mistake

*This post originally ran on 12/23/08 (what a great Christmas read!). Hoping it will rile you up! I’ll be sitting by my email inbox waiting for the hate mail.

Dad Warning: this post may not be a good one for you to read!

Women Warning: you’ll probably all be offended, too. I don’t want to get hate mail on this topic, so just know that I may make your blood boil today.

I loved the book Table for Eight by Meagan Francis (reviewed yesterday). My only problem with it is on page ix, where the sentence reads,

“Maybe you were surprised with a series of unexpected pregnancies.”

Then she talks about the author (Leslie Leyland Fields) of a book titled “Surprise Child: Finding Hope In Unexpected Pregnancy” saying how she “admits that her fifth and sixth pregnancies were the realization of one of her biggest fears. She writes that she was crushed to have to start again at the beginning …”

That’s funny. MY biggest fear is being too dense to realize that pregnancy is caused by sex, especially after I’ve done it FOUR times.

I’m trying to figure out how to NOT freak out here. Where do I begin? I guess some of you will be shocked to learn that I am pro-choice … the CHOICE being whether or not to have sex.

First of all, please do not EVER refer to an unplanned pregnancy as a “mistake” in my presence. A mistake is when I do something mindless like put salt instead of sugar in a recipe or when I call Joel by his brother’s name, NOT when I have sex and make a HUMAN BEING.

Secondly, what about this thing called Feminism? Didn’t we fight to be the hot shi* we are now? So why can’t we take responsibility when something happens in our lives? How is a pregnancy unexpected if you had some sex, ANY sex? This is an insult to all the women who are unable to get pregnant either on their own or with the help of science.

Third, never have I had a pregnancy be a SURPRISE. Um, I pretty much know when I’m having sex, unless I’m asleep for the whole thing, and I’m SURPRISED this hasn’t happened a few times being as how I’m exhausted every night at 9 p.m. So if I’m a big girl and know that the equation is “sex can equal a pregnancy” … then how is it a surprise? That being said, it WOULD be a surprise to me to become pregnant with, say, sextuplets without using fertility drugs.

Fourth, referring to a pregnancy as an accident is asinine. Here’s how I see it going down, and I’ll try not to be too graphic: I have just taken a shower and am naked. My husband walks in, only he TRIPS on his way in. He falls ON TOP OF me just the right way and … voila! He impregnates me! Stupid, right?

Bottom line: Even if you are using a titanium diaphragm, are breastfeeding day and night, your man is wearing the strongest condom ever made AND had a double vasectomy, and you are on 5 kinds of the Pill (including the ones where you don’t bleed for, like, a YEAR) …

Although there are many scientific ways to figure out when you are fertile, IF YOU HAVE SOME SEX, YOU MIGHT GET PREGNANT.

Class dismissed, and please NEVER ask me if I know what causes my large family!

I still love ya’ll, and tomorrow I’ll make it up to you for putting up with my yelling and ranting.

Girls, it’s like I always tell my husband (something stolen from Judge Judy):

Beauty fades, but dumb is forever.

Catholic Church and Pregnant Marriage

Okay, so here’s the deal, and try to follow along because my brain is all over the dang place.

If you are pregnant and want to get married in the Catholic Church, the answer is a BIG FAT “NO”.

Makes sense to you, right?

Except that if you are shacking up, the answer is YES.

Don’t forget that couples VOW at their Catholic wedding to welcome tons of babies from God, but then they go the sterilization route once they realize what tons of babies actually looks like (which I totally get and I'm NOT judging those who stop having kids when they know they are done ... I think that's perhaps a good idea!).

So I’m thinking if you are ALREADY pregnant, you are ALREADY fulfilling the vow of having tons of babies, even more so than those who are simply shacking up.

I wish they’d take the vow out about having tons of babies … because you never know how you’re going to take to parenting until you’ve had a kid.

Back to the pregnant Catholics. So they go ahead and get married somewhere else. Then they have the baby. THEN the Catholic Church says, “Okay, we’ll go ahead and BLESS your marriage in a special ceremony.”

Why not just marry the pregnant couple in the first place in the Catholic Church and save the time and expense of the Blessing Ceremony later?

AND start teaching Natural Family Planning in the Catholic schools when children are young so they actually know what the hell it is and get themselves knocked up less often? You’re not handing out condoms, people, you’re just teaching girls and boys about how a woman’s body works so she can avoid pregnancy.

Clearly, I just need to be the Pope.

Tangrams Rock

I know. Sometimes I'm so cool you forget I'm a homeschooler. Wait, no offense to homeschoolers. I'll shut up now. Anyway, I ordered these great things from Rainbow Resource Center called Magnetic Tangrams. Michael is a shapes-y/math guy, so he loves making stuff out of them on the fridge:

A Bang-Up Job

A few weeks ago Joel cut Callie’s bangs while they were at a friend’s house. Clearly I’m not on top of things. The “before” picture:


I had to cut the rest to make it look a LITTLE bit better (I’m no hairstylist). Here’s THAT result:


Aron said it looks like a mullet for now. So we taught Callie to say that word, plus “business in the front, party in the back.” She’s proud to look like Hannah Montana’s dad.

These People Love Me?

-- I told my pal Smoosh I got a card in the mail from a woman who was previously mean to me. Smoosh goes, “Is it a sympathy card? Like she sympathizes with your personality?”

-- In the car one day, Callie says something about “when Mommy gets bigger.” Aron says, “Let’s hope Mommy doesn’t get any bigger.”

-- I was telling my mom about how Aron doesn’t want me ripping wallpaper down all over the house until he can finish ONE room of painting. I get antsy and want to HELP. Aron doesn’t want the house looking all trashed out. Mom says something like, “Your house always looks crappy; completely torn down wallpaper won’t really matter.”

And then I kicked all their asses. In my mind.

Dell Rhymes With Hell

Okay, their computers are okay. But their printers SUCK dirty, nasty pondwater. Don’t buy a Dell printer. And if your computer comes with one, save yourself the trip to the loony bin and just give the “free” printer to your worst enemy.

Their customer service sucks, too. I can’t understand a word anyone is saying, and they send me in circles. We get magically “disconnected” a lot, so I have to call back and explain my problem again.

Does anyone else love Dell as much as I love Dell?

Once when I was on the phone with Dell, Michael asked me what I was doing. I told him I was on the phone with Dell. He says, “Dell rhymes with hell.” How right you are, little guy.

When the printer dies, I'm gonna take it out back, Office Space-style (if you haven't seen that movie, you have to ... but there are lots of cuss words). I'll beat it to death with a baseball bat with gangsta rap in the background.

Are You Kidding Me, Missouri?

Missouri has passed a law banning texting while driving. For those under 21.

HUH?

What kind of wussy law is THAT?

How about NO TEXTING WHILE DRIVING … PERIOD … for ANYONE?

Because texting while driving is stoopid. Also, no applying makeup while driving. I’m not even a fan of talking on the cell phone while driving. AND the thing about those stoopid headsets for cell phones is that YOUR ATTENTION IS STILL DIVIDED BETWEEN THE DRIVING AND THE PHONE CALL.

But they have mandatory helmet laws in Missouri for motorcyclists. If you don’t want to wear your helmet and get smashed all over the road, that’s YOUR business. But if you cause a wreck between you and Preggie because you’re texting, and you aren’t ALREADY dead, I will kill you.

Obedience

In case you can’t read it, the sign says to STAY OFF THE ROCKS. I am indeed the perfect parent, teaching my kids total obedience to all rules.

Ha.

Boobs Everywhere

When did it become okay, even fashionable, to have your bra and thong showing?

I recently went to a wedding and noticed a woman’s back. Her gorgeous silvery-gray bra was hanging out the back. I could see like the whole thing. Then Aron tells me I should see her front. When I got a glimpse, my eyes popped. She was a tiny chick with like Double EEs and a good 50% of them were hanging out of the bra.

At the same wedding, there was another chick with a dress on that had her boobs 50% on display, as well. It doesn’t BOTHER me, but I just don’t get why women do that! Just wear a sign that says,

“I have low self-esteem and/or am stupid. Please stare at my boobs. I also want your dad and son and husband to stare at my boobs and think about me later because I am a sex object.”

If my bra is going to be blatantly on display, I just don’t wear the top. Maybe someday I’ll invest in a bra with clear straps, but until they make a nursing bra like that, I’m SOL. And don't even talk to me about strapless.

And I’m a FEMALE … what are MEN thinking when they see these boobies in their faces? I actually feel sorry for men … they can’t get a freaking break. They are told to not oogle women and to not catcall them and so on. Yet some of us women insist on putting our goodies on display for our fathers, uncles, sons, bosses, strangers, teachers, and so on to see and store in their mammaries. I mean memories.

Then again, I put my pregnant belly on display for the world to see …

* but don't even talk to me about how I've been nursing for 8 years straight ... my Nursy Bags are nicely covered at all times.

*edited to add: Thanks, Sean! I totally forgot about words on butts and chests. I am guilty of the chest thing b/c I have a shirt that Aron got me that's all sparkly and says "Save the Tatas" on it, but that's like Save the Whales, so it's totally politically correct and I don't wear it around a lot of people. However, little girls with words like PINK or PRINCESS on their asses really bugs me, especially at CHURCH! My butt words would say WIDE LOAD or EXIT ONLY or TAKEN.