Kicking up our Sequined Boots for Spring

Posted on April 1, 2013 by nurse mommy

Stacey Hatton Commentary

The Kansas City Star – March 28, 2013

What’s with spring break marathoning? I’m not talking about running a crazy amount of miles. I mean when did 11 days of no school in March seem like the right thing to do?

When I was a kid (some time after the invention of the cotton gin and before rap music), spring break consisted of approximately 5 days. Nothing happened. We didn’t go anywhere. There were no Disney cruises. Never did you hear of families traipsing to Europe — no time for that nonsense.

We had shows to choreograph, jump ropes and hairbrushes to sing into and epic problems to solves, like who was a little bit country and who was going to be a little bit rock ’n’ roll?

But times have changed. Spring Break is such a huge family production. I know — bigger than Donny and Marie? Yes! So my hubby and I decided we needed to up our game and teach our girls about the finer things in life. We headed to “Little Hillbilly Vegas” — yes, we grabbed our cans of Aqua Net hairspray and our BeDazzler Bead Kit and set our GPS for…Branson!

For the previous family vacation, we traveled to our state’s capital, Topeka. Aim low was our goal. If you can get the kids thrilled to be in middle of nowhere and spending no money, that’s a pretty great vacation. Our girls bragged to everyone about their love of Topeka: their teachers, their pastor, strangers, even their grandparents.

But for spring break, we knew we had a brilliant master plan and was going to work out just fine.

Entering Branson’s city limits, we saw billboards almost stacked on top of each other. Our girls thought they were watching a movie on both sides of the road. Talk about ADHD distractions! How can you even get into Branson with all the promotional roadside reading material? Thankfully both our children are now readers so I didn’t have to translate each sign, for that might have sent me over the edge. Word to the advertising agencies of Branson: you did an excellent job for the 5- 8-year-old crowd. One of my daughters saw all those signs and said she is going to “honeymoon in Branson.” Thank Heavens she didn’t say get married!

After driving down the strip and screaming out for my husband to stop so I could take a picture of a two-story chicken — which, thank you, he wouldn’t — we were able to window shop all the attraction spots from the car. We saw the outdoor mini pirate golf, mini dinosaur golf, go-carts, kids’ fun center and water park, Silver Dollar City amusement park and our biggest destination, Dolly Parton’s Dixie Stampede.

We checked into a lovely resort, luckily, because the next morning it snowed 4 inches in a town that doesn’t see snow that time of year. Mini-golf, amusement parks and go-carts…oh, my! Not going to happen. So we put on our happy face, pulled on our creative thinking caps and found the fun.

Truly, when you have children who have not experienced big, fancy family trips yet, they aren’t too disappointed when things go downhill. Plus, on our last day we had Dolly’s Dixie Stampede, which I have to admit was one of the most outrageous things I have experienced. It had plenty of big hair and falsies (eyelashes, silly!), pretty ladies stunt riding on horses, and handsome men in uniform riding around the arena and waving their flags. Bands played, doves were released and indoor fireworks were shot off. And if you have never noshed on a Cornish game hen with no utensils while cheering for racing baby pigs or women riding ostriches, you haven’t partied at Dolly’s house.

We had to leave Branson a day early due to another threat of snow because you can bet your bottom casino chip that I wasn’t about to let snow trap me in that city of kiddie speed.

Our trip was entertaining. The children enjoyed themselves and now we can claim we are one step above Topeka in our travel experience.

Omaha is sounding nice. I hear they have a great zoo and not as many billboards and sequins.

Stacey Hatton is a co-author of the new best-selling book “I Just Want to Pee Alone,” available on Amazon and her website, www.nursemommylaughs.com.

You know who else is a co-author of that book? Patti “Sporkalicious” Ford!! That’s right, the Queen of Unicorn Blogdom and Spork switchblades, her royal highlariousness herself. Actually, after I posted my Star article to my book peeps, Patti so generously shared her experience with the giant cock of Branson. And I’m not talking about Tony Orlando, ladies! No, get a load of Patti “koala-ing” that giant gam!

You should check out her zany blog too. She’s a trip! Insane in the Mom-Brain is where she keeps almost 70K readers snorting and hollering!

Plight of the Dangler – KC Star Commentary by Stacey Hatton

Posted on March 4, 2013 by nurse mommy

The Kansas City Star
Feb. 27, 2013

Hang on, Sister!

I come from a long line of danglers.

Both my grandmothers dangled. My great-grandmother who only ate cottage cheese and carrot sticks was a dangler. And having two girls of my own, the probability of one of them dangling is dang good.

What is a dangler, you ask? If you were sitting in the bathroom stall next to mine, it would be quite obvious what problem I struggle with (other than dangling prepositions).

I am short. My feet can’t reach the floor in any adult-sized chair. Parent/teacher conferences at the grade school? No problem! But I’m vertically challenged.

Unfortunately, this is not a new issue for me. When the kids on the playground would taunt me, calling out “Shorty Pants,” I would smartly retort, “Good one, Mr. Tall-ey Pants!” Apparently, I am better on paper with a few edits.

Then I grew older and stronger.

During my preteens, Randy Newman wrote the supposedly satirical song “Short People,” where he waxed poetic that “short people got no reason to live.” Such a charmer. I bet Mr. Newman never had his early adolescence bombarded by bullies singing lame lyrics at him every chance they had. As you can see, I’m over it! Newman!

But time does heal wounds and I’ve had plenty of it to develop a thick skin when it comes to people giving me grief

“Lay you head on my…”

about my height. Being short does have some perks. I always had a prom date who was taller than me. You have to feel sorry for those sleek, towering girls who had to slow dance with boys whose heads struggled to rest on their date’s plunging sweetheart neckline — never a dangler’s issue.

And as an adult, I have become more of an extrovert due to my height disability in the supermarket. I easily befriend persons with hereditarily stretched gene pools. Whenever I cannot reach a top shelf item, I gather up my courage to ask complete strangers to reach for the bran flakes. This is a double-fold embarrassment: one, they realize you can’t survive without their help and two, you must really need some bran or you wouldn’t have asked a stranger to grab it.

Although I will confess, I have been known to scale the shelves when no one is coming around to assist. But shh, don’t tell anyone.

Even though I have never purchased pants that didn’t need to be hemmed a good 6 inches, spring always comes around once a year, and I can count on my favorites — the Capri pant. Grabbing my 30 percent Kohl’s coupon and wildly charging on, I joyously announce from the dressing room, “Bingo! No hemming for this gal until the fall!”

Of course for every Capri purchase, you have to grab a pair of dangling earrings to match.

The one thing that has made me appreciate my 60 inches of vertical stretch more than anything are my kids.

I remember the first time my oldest child looked up at me and asked, “Mama, will I be as tall as you someday?” It took everything in my power to not say, “Let’s pray for a miracle you won’t.”

But to her I am a giant, a tower of strength and security. I love motherhood. My children make this sapling feel like a sequoia.

So I’m signing off. I’ve been dangling at the computer too long and I no longer have feeling in my legs.

Nurse Mommy after a long day of writing.

What do you have in running through your genetic pool that you are most proud of or like to make fun of at family functions? Please share in the silliness!! Stacey

Dejavu, Motherhood: or just another Groundhog Day

Posted on February 9, 2013 by nurse mommy

NURSE MOMMY NOTE: It’s 6:00am and the alarm clock goes off. Sonny and Cher’s voices are singing out “I Got You, Babe” from my alarm clock. I drag myself out of bed, grab my coffee and the paper and then realize my VERY specific “groundhog column” is MIA – to be run a week AFTER Groundhog Day. Life always keeps ya hopping, like a furry rodent; but keeps me quite flexible and popular!

Welcome to my Groundhog Day movie in real time…ENJOY!

Happy Groundhog Day…AGAIN!!!

Just another Groundhog Day
February 9, 2013
STACEY HATTON COMMENTARY
The Kansas City Star

I suppose it would be polite to say I hope everyone had a happy Groundhog’s Day since some Pennsylvania Dutch prankster back in the 1800s considered it a gas to have a league of men decked in top hats and bowties ask a chubby rodent to predict their upcoming weather every February.

Who would have thought that kind of hijinks would have caught on?

Now I’ve never attended one of these Punxsutawney, Pa., shindigs so I probably should keep my friendly trapper shut, but why should I start now? Prognosticating Pennsylvanian pudgy squirrels treated like royalty? Sounds like a dream job for my friend’s Aunt Eunie, the retired meteorologist from Pittsburgh. However, I heard she is now selling used cars, so it might not be her gig.

Since the groundhog Punxsutawney Phil didn’t see his shadow when he left his hidy-hole last weekend, there’s a fair chance spring will come early. According to the Stormfax Weather Almanac, “Phil’s winter prognostications have been correct only 39 percent of the time” since 1887, with nine years of no recordings.

Boy, for a future-telling groundhog, he’s pretty good! I like to think that 39 percent of my parenting advice is valid. If my kids catch at least that much, and it happens to be positive role-modeling, they have a fair shot at the world. Really if my kids listened 39 percent of the time ever, it would be splendid, but a parent can dream, right?

Parenting often reminds me of the Bill Murray movie “Groundhog Day,” especially if you’re a stay-at-home parent. Each day tends to resemble the last, and then you go for hours without having an adult conversation before you realize you’ve talked to yourself incessantly and no one has answered you.

But not to worry, for when you put the children to sleep, you scratch your head and wonder if you accomplished anything in its entirety that day. Have I finished a project? Even one? I must have checked off something on my to-do list.

Well, at least you are still quick minded and haven’t lost it yet. You still remember how old you are, right? Or do you? Because about half the year in, you started thinking, “I’m going to be turning 38 soon.” And since you talk to yourself so much, you hear this voice repeating the age often, so by the time your birthday shows up, you can’t remember if you’re 38 or 39.

Every day is Groundhog Day at my house. The alarm goes off, I get dressed, find the coffee and find the children. Dress the children. A mass feeding occurs, coats go on, backpacks are stuffed, I raise my voice for the eighth time, put van in reverse and slowly back out of drive, making sure children are safely fastened in their seats. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Not that I would trade it for the world. I love being able to provide a stable routine for my children. This gives them comfort and a sense of constancy, which according to experts shows them I love them. Probably the raising my voice thing needs to be worked on, but we all have flaws.

To celebrate Groundhog Day, I checked off something on my to-do list, turned on my Seasonal Affective Disorder mood light, upped my dose of vitamin C and popped in the “Groundhog Day” DVD because chances of dreary were pretty high no matter what that rodent with a top hat claimed.

I also started a new Kansas City Ground-hog Day tradition: barbeque pork burgers! I even added a bowtie pasta side salad in Phil’s honor.

Nurse Mommy Laughs…

'Cause Laughter is the Best Medicine

Category Archives: Kansas City Star

Kicking up our Sequined Boots for Spring

Plight of the Dangler – KC Star Commentary by Stacey Hatton

Dejavu, Motherhood: or just another Groundhog Day