Don't put your finger in that!

As some of you may know, my geekery extends beyond the fantasy novels I write and goes all the way into my day job. By day I don my cape and work at NASA and try to keep things from falling apart. *Note - please call your senators and beg them to fund us. Space is cool!*

One very notable attribute of the government is that they are somewhat safety-obsessed. Every month we have to enjoy safety presentations in which frequently one of our red-faced co-workers has made an "anonymous" appearance on the safety slide - detailing embarrassingly in what sometimes humorous ways they managed to hurt themselves and how we might avoid that same fate. It's not meant to be humorous, but, well, I have kind of an evil mind.

Queue the flashback to one of the most embarrassing moments of my working career when I almost ended up on one of those slides myself....

It started, as most disasters do, with chocolate. And in this I can blame one of my office mates who for this purpose I will refer to as LAM. LAM has a habit of stocking on her desk the most wonderful dark chocolate stash known to mankind. Ok, that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but when you’ve had a week as bad as mine, all chocolate develops a touch of mystical enchantment. In fact, had it not been for the ethereal glow above the bowl and the angel chorus singing Barry White, I might have walked right past her door and my day, and finger, would have ended without misery.

But I didn’t, and it did.

I grabbed that delicious piece of dark chocolate from LAM’s bowl and by the time I got back to my desk I realized that I’d smeared a big brown streak of it right across my front pant leg. And this is especially aggravating considering I only had the one pair of khakis left that fit me (also partially because of LAM’s delicious bowl of chocolate). So for the next several minutes my other officemate, we'll call her Mama J, got to hear a variety of cursing from me that I wouldn’t normally use in the office while fighting with the chocolate napalm stain. The dear heart had a plastic tub of sanitizing hand wipes which we were both hoping might work without leaving my leg a wet, soppy, chocolaty mess... which it almost did. Now my stain looked less like a chocolate smear and more like I dropped a used diaper on my leg. #improvement?

Yes, baby wipes are evil.

Now onto the hand wipes. *this would be a good place to cue the evil music*

This container was similar to most any tub of baby wipes that you might have seen – the cylinder with a cap and a star shaped slit in the top from which you pull the sheets individually. Well, not wanting to be unkind and leave one of the wipes half hanging out to get dried out, I did what anyone would do and what I have done probably a dozen times with baby wipes. I took my finger and shoved the sheet back into the canister.

But, as I learned, this was not your average canister and it certainly wasn’t for babies. Whereas the star slit in baby wipes is a weak, flimsy sheet of plastic, this one was an industrial strength sheet that I’m surprised my finger went through in the first place. And when I realized how insanely tight it was and tried to pull my finger back out, those star shaped wedges of thick plastic became barbs holding my finger in and giving me the choice of continue to let the circulation be cut off and endure that pain, or pull at my finger and say Adios, skin.

By now Mama J is listening to an ever more inventive string of cussing from me as the pain is getting worse and my finger is turning a not unattractive shade of purple in this lilac-scented Chinese finger trap. On one hand I’m angry because I never dreamed that something that simple could hurt so badly, but second to the pain is the thought that there is NO WAY in hell that I’m going to have to go to the medical center on site to have them cut this monster off my finger and end up on a slide in one of our safety presentations.

And this is where my own personal safety lesson comes into play. As I sat there trying to wedge pens, bottle caps, paper clips, ANYTHING that would get the teeth of that star slit to let go of my poor tormented finger, I was struck with the thought of how I wished that I hadn’t left my pocket knife at home. It wasn’t until later that I realized how LUCKY I was that I’d left my knife at home because, in my blinded-by-pain state, I actually thought that it would have been a GOOD idea to take a knife to wedge between my finger and the plastic using I don’t know what as leverage. A vein, maybe?

Since all stories should have a happy ending, yes, I did finally get the evil hand wipe lid off my finger before the actual rot set in but yes, it did still actually hurt for days. So my safety lesson to share for this day is a combination lesson. On the high road, be aware of how pain clouds your judgment – you might be in trouble, but getting out of it quickly can get you into MORE trouble. On the low road, your mother was right. If you stick your finger into puckered holes, you really might not get it back...

Why You Should Sell Your House Right Now

Ahhh, the crisp smell of paint, lemon Pledge, Windex, and Lavender Fields Glade Plug-ins. Harken to the dust mop ever-swishing and the dishes ever washing. The gleam and sheen of counter and cabinet are rivaled only by the sparkling clean stove top. The refrigerator, you ask, blinded by the glow, can that possibly be real? But where the milk dripping down the back of the shelves, where the puddle of petrified BBQ sauce? You might even wonder if a fridge is still a fridge without the veggie drawer of death.

But don't stop there - have you seen my closets? Arranged by season and color, not a thing in the hamper, nary a sock on the floor. And with its empty counters and cabinets with nail polish lined like tin soldiers, my bathroom sometimes wonders if I even still live here.

Fret not, though, my friends! You, too, can have a house as sparkling clean as ours. And it's so easy to do...

All you have to do is sell it. 

Then spend weeks packing, painting, finishing projects like flagstone patios, patching walls, updating fixtures, scouring baseboards, cleaning like a mad-woman. And, of course, you have to live there like you don't live there at all. If you get something out, it goes up immediately. If you see a speck of dust, panic, then grab the dust mop. Forget your favorite china; your place settings now all say "Solo" and come in red or blue. Make your bed every day and carry a Clorox wipe with you everywhere you go in the house... just in case. And definitely forget having a social life while it's on the market. Because you have to go home and clean the few hours worth of dust that settled while you were working.

Simple, right? On one hand, when we listed our house on 5/11, our house had never been cleaner and felt more soothing to live in (albeit living in very carefully). On the other hand, when we accepted an offer on the 19th, we breathed a HUGE sigh of relief and beer cans, junk mail, and socks magically started appearing all over the house again. The sparkling fridge? Well, it was nice for the week or two it lasted, but face it; that's basically going against nature.

So there you have it: If you want a perfect house you should absolutely put it on the market right now. You just have to give up all sense of comfort, privacy, free time, and sanity, but it's totally worth it, right? Right.

W: Watering

As I type this post, I'm playing the procrastination game of watching for the sun to set juuuuuust enough that it's light enough to water the flowers but not bright enough for my still winter-pale skin to suffer the wrath of Helios.

And mostly, honestly, just because watering the flowers is one chore I uber-hate. I love having them, I love seeing, smelling, even planting them, but that maintenance thing... ugh. My hubs isn't a fan, either. So to make this chore at least somewhat tolerable we've tried a few tricks.


1. Automatic Watering Systems - In years past we've tried a few of the more budget-friendly versions with little hoses and plastic valves made apparently of eggshell that sometimes last the whole season, but usually just end up making a leaky mess and drowning the poor flowers. For the number of times we've had to replace cheap timers or valves we probably could have hired a gardener to do it every day for us.

2. Sprinkers  - Ever tried planting flowers in just such a way that a common lawn sprinkler could reach every one of them? That's how much I don't like standing around with a hose.

3. Make It a Drinking Game - PSA: Not a family friendly solution. If you're like me and can't stand the chore, make it fun by drinking a glass of wine every time you drop the hose and accidentally spray yourself. I should really do this in a wet suit.

4, Having Kids - Actually, we haven't tried this one yet. But I hear having kids is a great source of free labor around the house. I've been told they work for only room, board, clothes, electronics, and college tuition.  Hmmm... maybe I'll just train my cat.

What are your lawn care secrets? Any tips to share? 

U: Under

Use Caution! This post might be horrifying - BEWARE! Don't Look UNDER There!!

Yes, it's U Day. And I was serious about this post being horrific! Today I'm talking about the places Around the House we dread to look UNDER...

the Bed. Dust bunnies or fuzz monsters? I find clumps of dog toy stuffing, stray strings, dog hair tufts (everywhere...) and miscellaneous odds and ends we thought were lost.

the Rugs. A rug is not a barrier to keep dirt off the floor, unfortunately... It's sneaky and mysterious. I don't know how, but dirt manages to find it's way under the rug and hides there until I lift it up.

the Couch. Similar to the bed, but worse. Usually crumbs and small toys or game pieces are found as well. Keep the vacuum handy and try not to get sick with disgust.

the Silverware/Tray. How often do you clean yours? This one is another mystery. How do crumbs get in there? Silverware goes in clean and comes out clean. Yet somehow the tray collects tiny crumbs. Eerie.

the Fridge. No. I won't look. Eww! Dusty, linty, moldy, often unrecognizable food! Or an innocent fallen pen, photo, or magnet, now laid to waste covered in gunk and dusted with dog hair - Blech!

So what are you afraid to look UNDER in your house?
You can visit other blogs from the A to Z challenge HERE.

Signs of Fall

You know Fall has arrived when the bugs come inside...

Spiders are great for eating other bugs. And I love seeing them in a beautiful web...from a distance.

We used to catch the little jumpy ones, then catch other bugs and watch him eat them - yep, I'm one of those boy moms. Did that with praying mantis too - so cool!

HAPPY FRIDAY!

A couple of years ago on Oct 1, a tiny spider floated down from the ceiling into the middle of breakfast with my sons - you should've seen those boys jump!! I laughed!

Anyone else got a good bug story for this nice cool weekend?? I <3 Fall!

How to Survive Your Child’s Birthday Party

Our first guest post is by Sherry Ellis. I've known Sherry for a few years now - she even came to my first book release party just before moving from Ohio to Atlanta! She's awesome! And her Mama Diaries posts are adorable and relate-able, so she was a natural for us to have over here with the Housewives. Take a listen...


After fourteen years of planning birthday parties, I’d like to think I know what I’m doing. The reality is that no matter how much planning you do, there are always surprises.

Like when you send out fifteen invitations and thirty kids show up at your house. How does this happen? I asked my fourteen-year-old daughter about this phenomenon after it happened at her thirteenth birthday party. “It’s easy,” she said. “Friends tell friends, and they all show up.”

Right. Easy. Just be sure to order ten boxes of pizza and have a cake that feeds fifty in case this happens to you.

And then there are the unplanned activities. Like when fifteen girls are standing on each other’s shoulders, making a cheerleading pyramid in the middle of your family room. These sorts of things can give you a heart attack. I’d advise having parents complete a health waiver before they drop off their kids. You’ll feel a lot better about the pyramid thing if you do.

Did I mention the messes? You’d probably expect them at the end of the party. But did you know you could have some major ones before it even starts? Like exploding soda bottles. This happened to me on two occasions. One Sprite bottle fell out of the refrigerator on my daughter’s tenth birthday, spraying soda all over the ceiling, walls, and floor – fifteen minutes before the guests were about to arrive. And recently, before my son’s eleventh birthday party, he opened a bottle of Strawberry Fanta, and the darn thing exploded all over him. It got the paper plates, paper napkins, and floor, too. If this happens, arm yourself with a bucket of water, a wash cloth, and a good sense of humor. If anyone comments on the sticky floor or the pink spots on your ceiling, just say it’s part of the festive ambience.

Yes, birthday parties can be a lot of fun. You just have to expect the unexpected. When you’re done cleaning up the remnants of pizza, cake, drinks, wrapping paper, crepe paper, balloons, Legos, and Nerf bullets, sit down, put your legs up, and take a deep breath. You survived. (A box of chocolates wouldn’t hurt, either!)

Sherry Ellis is a freelance writer and award-winning children’s author. Her books include, That Baby Woke Me Up, AGAIN, That Mama is a Grouch, and Ten Zany Birds. She's also a professional musician who plays and teaches violin, viola, and piano. Sherry lives with her husband and two children in Atlanta, Georgia. You can learn more about Sherry Ellis on her website, You can also follow her on Facebook or Twitter