Friday, March 21, 2014

Tears of Hope; Neferterius and Taitlyn

Tears of Hope; Nefeterius and Taitlyn

This post was originally published in 2012. I decided to post it again today as I have learned and am deepy saddened by the passing of Neferterius from abdominal cancer. She was a bright shining star among us and now from heaven. RIP Neferterius A McPhereson.


Over the course of the last few days, I have cried several times. I have been touched by a beautiful story of two incredibly brave and beautiful young women. It is a story of one twelve year old girl who saved a 38 year old woman's life that she had never met.  It is about the older of the two honoring the younger one's dreams to change the world. It is a story about organ donation. This is an article about their story.

You can also find these special ladies, Nefeterius Akili McPherson, and Taitlyn Shae Hughes, and their story on Facebook at!/livertransplant, and!/pages/Taitlyn-Hughes/132186980221999.

I can honestly say this story touched my heart, as my mother needed a kidney transplant before her death.  She never received her transplant because she was not healthy enough for the surgery. Kudos to this twelve year old who was wise beyond her years in choosing to become an organ donor, and to make a difference and save lives. Kudos to this young woman who is honoring her donor, by keeping her dreams to make a difference alive. This kind of story is few and far between.  It gives me hope in this day and time in which we are living. This young girls hope and dreams to change the world, and the recipients thankfulness, drive, and dedication to see that her donor's dreams come true, is truly inspiring. The world needs more people like these remarkable ladies!  Happy heartwarming reading!

Wednesday, March 19, 2014

The Rest of the Story: Hoochie Girl Edition

Hi there 'Snappers! I read a great article today from Kristen of Abandoning Pretense about shaving her Hooo-Ha. You can read her Mamapedia article here- The Time I Shaved My Hoo-Ha .

It is an awesome read about the post Hoo-Ha shaving itchies. In my personal experience, the first time is the worst.  I was also inspired to share with you, my personal hoochie girl shaving travesties.


                                                        ---PEE BEFORE READING---

Since I was a wee girl, I eagerly anticipated the day that I  could try the shaving acrobatics reserved for the grown up women who were "experienced" in such womanly rituals.  I longed to one day try shaving my pubic hair into the little strip, triangle, or tuft of the fancy, beautiful women of Cosmopolitan Magazine.  They all seemed so beautiful, and possessed of such an otherworldly knowledge of womanhood. As I read articles on makeup, eye cream and cleavage, all of which I had yet to experience, I dreamed of the day when I too would be in love or married and want to shape my pubic hair into a perfect little heart for Valentine's Day.  The manicured women of Cosmo seemed so beautiful, and as I imagined, held the keys to the secrets of womanhood.  Otherwise why would my mother read Cosmopolitan Magazine? (remember back in the 80's when there were nude women in the ads? Right!)

Fast forward to one day in my early twenties, I finally attained, in my mind, one of the greatest achievements in womanhood.  A perfect Pubic Hair Heart for my sweetie(now my hubbie) for Valentine's Day.  I was so damn impressed with my PHH, and because of appropriate fascination with and adoration of my attainment, I was late for our Valentine's Day date! (Thank goodness this was long before picture phones and social media! I might have been tempted! But there was no way I would take a picture, with a (gah!) camera, for fear that the wannabe photographers in the photo developing store would all get a rock off on my perfect heart, and show all of their friends! )

                     Because nothing says, 'I love you' like a pubic hair heart, am I right ladies?

I soon learned heart shaped maintenance was nearly impossible.  Try looking down, while re-shaving and shaping a heart upside down. Cosmo never mentioned the dizziness(from being upside down with your head in your groin area, requiring you to occasionally resurface for air), the contortionist positions required for said heart (think Hulk Hogan scrunching his abs, only bending a little farther over, with his muscles flexed and looking down with his legs spread), re-shaving razor burn or infected hairs.  Pffft! Or the razor slipping in the bubbles, resulting in a weirdo half heart with a chunk out, resembling a cartoon character! So I decided to shave it all!

I also experienced the itchies, but the first time is the worst! It was this style of grooming that suited me the most.  I have put myself through all of the awkward and uncomfortable in my quest for maintenance of the perfectly groomed puss. 

In the quest for gold of the hair-down-there-less, Pube Olympics, one must develop mastery of several skills.  The first is proper stretching before wielding the razor.  The Charlie horse is your enemy.  If one does not stretch and warm up the limbs before attempting some of the more difficult positions required for perfection , Charlie horses may occur and further extend or delay your mission.  Which in turn may further delay or result in cancellation of upcoming "events".

The second skill required is patience.  One needs patience in achieving grooming perfection.  There are may things that can go wrong.  Patience will assist you in defeating all of these. If one does not have patience and gets in a hurry, tufts are missed.  These so called 'tufts' are both embarrassing and infuriating. Have patience my friends.

Injury can also occur.  Trust me one does not want a hoochie girl injury inflicted with a razor.  You will be sidelined from any activities involving the hooch for a long time.  Permanent injury, although rare, is possible.  Again patience is a key factor in preventing injury.

The third skill required is courage,  Some are afraid to delve right into the nooks, crannies, folds, and creases in the quest for the perfectly de-nuded mound. One must not be afraid. Be comfortable with yourself.  There will be rearrangement of the lay of the land, and there will be pulling and tugging to reach that one last pesky unreachable spot.

One must have a strong stomach if patience is lacking.  This one time, in the shower, while on my quest......I cut myself.  And there was blood.  LOTS OF BLOOD.  EVERYWHERE! Thank God my mother was still alive at that time, because I had to call the wisest Cosmo woman I knew to ask life or death questions! How long would it bleed, would it heal, should I wash it, disinfect it, go to the hospital? Yes, when one shaves the top of one's aaaah you know, shall we say happy button, is a major emergency. I am happy to report that, I in fact, did not need stitches.  I am also happy to report that I had no permanent sensation loss, and the skin grew back.  Thank goodness for the restorative powers of the human body! No disfigurement, yeah! No frisky business for a long while, but no permanent damage! Pschew! Can  I just impart to you all the fear? FYI...bled like a head wound! And can you imagine if I had needed stitches, what exactly I would say to explain my predicament? And my daddy is an Emergency Room doc, so can you imagine the backlash? Doc Grandpa's kid sliced the top of her what off? Yeah, would have never lived it down.  Plus imagine all of the interns and residents wanting to "learn" from my injury.  Plus all of my dad's co-workers I had grown up with? Nightmare. Thank goodness that never happened!

Another obstacle that faces us, in our quest for gold, is growing bellies.  Whether pregnant or gaining a few pounds, the grooming becomes more difficult and requires greater skill.  One must discover and learn to utilize those eyes in the back of our heads, and how to concentrate on the task at hand with our eyes closed.  We must get in touch with our inner calm, and feel our way to our desired result, because seeing is not always a viable option, like it was in our younger and somewhat thinner youth. One must learn to work around whatever is in out path. There will be re-arranging of the lay of the land constantly in these challenging situations.  One must be comfortable in our every changing bodies, and adjust appropriately.

The next skill needed for the above situation, is deep breathing. Sometimes when rearranging the lay of the land, while on our landscaping quest, we lose our breath.  Deep breathing in situations where patience and hard work are required, are invaluable.

Waxing was never an option for me, as I am not into self inflicted, or salon inflicted pain to my nether regions. Aside from accidentally lopping off the top of my clit! Oy vey! Always been a do it myself girl, a self starter if you will!

Last but not least, the skill most needed to satisfy your quest for success in the Pube Olympics, is self satisfaction and self love.  If you are satisfied with your achievement, as you should be from all of the hard work that you have put forth, then you have attained your goal. Always love yourself, your creation, your design, and most of all your hoochie girl.  Do not groom to please a man.  Groom to please yourself.  If you heart your hoochie, so will everyone else! 

The truth is, men don't care what it looks like. Women are the ones that get all wrapped in the waxed, shaven, trimmed, and sculpted pubic design.  A hole is a hole! Doesn't matter how it's packaged, as long as it's clean! I will leave you with a quote from my EX-boyfriend from my college sorority days, "I appreciate your effort, but the nighty looks better on the floor, and you look better in my bed!"

Happy Hoochie Sculpting to everyone! Go forth and groom!


Wednesday, March 5, 2014

Pissed Off Kindergartener

Hiya Snappers! Thanks for dropping in! Today we are going to learn a wild and wonderful new language!

So when last I left you, my kindergartener had gotten puked on in class.  She ended up with the wait for it...pukies (shocking I know) and then strep throat. Read all about that here Trash Can Olympics .

She wasn't diagnosed with strep throat until Friday afternoon, so she did not begin her antibiotic until Friday right before bed. She woke up Saturday morning, and the first thing out of her mouth was, "I can't wait to go to my BFF's little sister's birthday party today! Yippee!" Crap.  Wonderfully craptastic.  Time for Dear old Mommy to rain on your parade and ruin your day!  So I informed as gently as possible, my lil punkin doo, that she was contagious for 24 hours after beginning her medicine and that she could not go to the party.  She could not see her 4yo BFF because she didn't need to make everyone at the party sick. And I ducked my head back under the covers, awaiting impending doom. This was not the reaction That I expected.

She asked me to leave , and she asked her father as well to vacate the bedroom as well.  She huddled up under the blankets and was silent for a few minutes.  Now anyone who knows my little chatty Cathy, knows that the kid never stops talking.  EVER.  Not even long enough to take a breath.  She is an amazing child, filled with wonder, and full of questions about everything, all of the time.  SHE NEVER SHUTS UP.  Not kidding. So the silence was interesting.

She emerged from the bedroom and hand signaled that she was not talking anymore.  EVER AGAIN!
I had to hide my secret elation that there would be at least 5 minutes of quiet!  As I controlled my laughter, she started writing in hot pink marker, everything she wanted to say.  She thought she was hurting us parents by not talking.  Now keep in mind, she has done this one other time, and she lasted 22 minutes.

 Below is the new language she has created, Pissed Off Kindergartener. 

Needless to say she was even more infuriated when she learned that she wasn't attending her other BFF's swimming party the next day. Poor baby.  I get it, when you are 5 the height of your social life is birthday parties.  To get invited to 2 in one weekend is epic, and looking forward to both for 2-3 weeks is a lot of excitement. And when some other kid who sucks at trash can Olympics pukes on you, and gives you strep throat, which causes you to be sick on your snow day and off of school for 2 days, well yeah, it sucks! I felt so bad for my baby!

But after 10-12 minutes, she was done.  She created a new, loosely based on English, language to express her frustrations, and she was back to her happy, chipper, talkie little self.

And then we played Polly Pockets.  ALL DAY LONG. Rubber dresses, rubber shorts, rubber skirts, rubber shoes, rubber purses, rubber sunglasses, rubber bikinis, rubber one piece bathing suits, rubber umbrellas, rubber jumpsuits, rubber pants, rubber halter tops, rubber see through dresses, rubber tops, rubber blouses, rubber formal wear, rubber boots, rubber high heels, rubber sandals, etc.  6 days, snow and sicknessed in the house, and all she wanted to play was Polly Pocket Dollies and watch Star Wars and LaLaLoopsies.  Sigh. She is only little once, she is only little once, she is only little once, she is only little once, she is only little once, she is only little once, she is only little once, she is only little once, she is only little once.......

Sunday, March 2, 2014

Trash Can Olympics

 My 5 year old, my little punkin doo, has always been healthy. That kid that never gets sick.  Then Kindergarten happened. She has been sick more this year than she has been her entire life.  All 5 years of it anyway. She has had  a couple of pukey viruses, but she had never been puked on.  She is the rock star of health! That is until last week.

I get ahead of myself, so let's start with three weeks ago shall we? Alright.  I received a call from school while at work.  The school called again, and I noticed they had called.  So I rush to the break room to call the school back.  I am already running worst case scenarios in my head.  Oh no! I missed the call! They think I am a horrible working mother because I waited to call them back until the second call! They are going to call CPS on me because I did not call back immediately! I knew that my baby had probably puked or was sick! So when I call the school back, my call is transferred to the school nurse, which cannot possibly, in any scenario, be good.

The nurse advises me that my little darling has indeed puked, but she is so proud of her because she made it to the trashcan and did not puke on herself, anybody else or the floor.  Yaaay LPD! Gold medalist right there in the Trash Can Olympics! Apparently making it all the way to the trashcan is rare among the kindergarteners!

So I leave work and go get my sick LPD from school.  As we are leaving the school, we are at the front door, and I notice that she has turned a rather telling shade of green.  She told me with a nod of her beautiful blonde head that it's coming again.  I told her to run back to the clinic.  Off she goes, and she accidentally takes the long way around through the office to the clinic.  She once again makes it to the trashcan. Needless to say the nurse takes me aside and exclaims how utterly extraordinary it is that she made the trashcan twice before getting sick. Whoo-hoo! Training paid off! Double Gold Medal in the Trash Can Olympics! My poor baby meanwhile is  feeling like poo, and burning up.  On the way outside, she asked to sit outside on the bench in the 35 degree weather to cool off.   My baby is like Hubbie the Dearest, she burns up.  Recently, as I have started having hot flashes, I can finally relate.

So I took her to my mawmaw-in-law for safekeeping and spoiling.  I return to work. After she cooled down, she felt better.

Fast forward to this last week. I get another call from the school.  When I called back, this time I was upgraded to being directly transferred to the principal.  She advised me that my child was okay, but there was an incident. First of all, never say that to a mother because worst case scenarios start running through my head. Like head injuries, broken bones, sexual harassment, and blood.  Lots of blood.  The principal dilly dallied to the point that I had. To ask if my child was alright.  Yes, Mrs. Gingerssnaps, LPD is fine.  The boy sitting behind her on the carpet, vomited. On your child.  We immediately put a clean shirt on her and are washing her other one, but we just wanted to let you know in case you wanted to bring her a change of clothes. Okaaay.....
I ask her if my child got sick, and if she was embarrassed or anything by it.  No. Okaaaay..... So then the principal let's me know that she wanted to call me personally to let me know, because she would want someone to call her if it happened to her child.  I told her my child was well adjusted and would be just fine in the lent T-shirt until hers was dry. Second of all, that rocks that the principal is that awesome! But unless my child is crying, dying, bleeding, unconscious, or unresponsive, I will gladly take the short version chatty Cathy. Wow, I never knew the sweet woman talked that much!

On Wednesday morning, my child woke at 5am to a cramping and hurting belly. She got up and had some juice and a red popsicle. I would like to take a moment out of my story to just say thank you to the popsicle makers of the world for cherry red Popsicles. Gods of the popsicle universe right there. I have never had a more pleasant kid vomiting experience.  My child is bag and can trained, so bleeek into the bag and then dispose. I have never smelled sweeter puke than red popsicle puke. So we have definitely patted ourselves on the back for our puke receptacle training.  Three out of three! Poor baby! She puked on her snow day! Then she missed two days of school and we found out she had strep! Poor lil punkin doo! Mommy loves her lil gold medalist!

But now seriously, can't all parents have trash can training with their little ones? Seriously.  I did, it is not that hard! My poor baby is like the Nancy Kerrigan  of the trash can Olympics.  Someone else had to try to sabatoge her good health, and puked on her. If my kid can make it to the trash can so can yours! But for now at least, LPD holds two gold medals in making the shot. And another one at home. Poor kid catches everything going around. Of course it might be easier on her attendance record if someone, let's say, oh I don't know didn't puke on her!

Hugs and Kisses,