Being an “old-ish” mom, somewhere between fitting in Gap clothing and wearing Depends, I have found motherhood has its ups and downs.  Like when trying to remember what it was like when I did things as a child…pretty near impossible!

My oldest daughter asks, “Mom, when did you first ride a bike without training wheels?”

“I’m sure I rode a bike. But to tell you the truth, I haven’t the foggiest!” I say squinting my eyes and searching the ceiling for answers.

Or…the latest, “Mom, how much money did the Tooth Fairy bring you when you lost your first tooth?”

Now I have a mouth full of Big Girl Teeth, so I know I must have lost some baby ones during my younger days; but if you can’t remember them falling out, how can you be expected to retain the cash value for those babies?

“I believe I was given diamonds and rubies,” I retorted.  “A girl’s best friend, you know.”

“MAH-OM!!  You are joking, right?!”  Can’t put anything past this one!

“Honey, the Tooth Fairy is the one who makes these decisions and whatever the going rate is will be what you get.  It’s just exciting you have entered a new phase of tooth-dom!”

“What?” she gives me the look which I know will be repeated way too many times in her adolescence.

“Forget it,” I smile baring all my big girl teeth.  “Congratulations on losing your tooth.  Tomorrow we’ll see what this tooth fairy thing is all about!”

That night Munchkin #1 put her first bloody, hollow tooth into her precious Tooth Fairy pillow and placed it under her regular pink sleeping pillow.  Her younger sister was almost excited for the impending event; but since it wasn’t about her, why should she waste her energy?

The next thing we know it is morning and over the monitor we hear the squawking, “THE TOOTH FAIRY CAME!!!”  Have I ever mentioned how fast that kid can run?  Two-point five seconds later, she is practically beaning me in the head with 2 golden coins.

“Look, Mom!  I got a Sacagawea!” she started in her best high-pitched girl scream.

“First of all…you are in Kindergarten. How do you know who Sacagawea is?” I asked reaching for my glasses.

“And another one with some guy on it – but Sacagawea!!” she said flopping on the bed like she had just won the Powerball.

“That other guy is a U.S. President, not that I can focus on him yet to tell you who he is, but he was famous too.  These are gold coins the Tooth Fairy left you!”
“Gold? How much is it worth?” she eagerly inquired.

Inspecting the coins carefully I whispered, “It’s a gold dollar! Each one is worth ONE dollar.”

“ Kathy got FIVE dollars and she said her cousin got TWENTY dollars from the Tooth Fairy!!” she quipped.

“I hate to be the one to tell you, but you saw that tooth of yours…it was totally hollow.  I bet those other kids had diamonds or rubies in the middle of theirs.”



End of Summer Mama Guilt

At the beginning of May, I saw a cute Pinterest idea for making your children’s summer vacation filled with fun and exciting ideas. Of course, I wanted our family calendar to be monumental – wacky and creative, with a touch of wild memories, and of course costumes. But that’s just me.

So in order to get this project going you had to make a list of the places you wanted to go (aka your adventures) and then you were to print them off from the computer, cover them in a button maker thing and finish it with a magnet on the back – so they could be placed on the fridge for easy viewing for the entire family. Then whenever you were needing something to do, you could go to the fridge and have someone pick your next exotic trip.

Great idea, right?


Last week I found the list which I had created with my daughters that first week of summer. It was buried under a pile of last year’s homework papers that still have not found their place to the proper bins.Phew! At least I found the freakin’ list!Do I even have a button maker or magnets?

NO-WAH! I just found the stinking list! It’s too late for that. Step it up and go to Plan B.

So as I often do, I rewound the cogs in my brain, and rearranged the initial plan. This is one of my gifts. Talents. If I can’t get something done on time, I talk myself into thinking it wasn’t a good idea to start with and then come up with the better solution – Plan B. Thankfully, sometimes Plan B is a better plan, so there was a bit of hope for the kids. I do great under pressure.

This over-rated “May 2013 Pinterest Project” was obviously lame because my brilliant idea on the last full-week before my girls were to go back to school was the idea of all great ideas. And we were going to name this last week (because it’s all about themes at our house) …


Take that and shove it, Pinterest!

Oh, yeah! We took the adventures from the list and assigned them to each day. If the adventure wasn’t long enough or enough to brag about, we would add another item from the list to that day. Two events in one day? Watch out! We were gonna have us some kind of fun.

At first the Munchkins asked if their friends could join us on our adventures because this is usually what we do. Bring the neighborhood gang. I have always believed in the adage, “The more the Merrier.” Plus, then I can have a little adult talk time. But not THIS week.


But then something strange happened. The Munchkins got ultra protective of our time together. Monday, my Hubby wanted to join us for lunch, but the girls who would normally jump for that opportunity –put the kibosh on their paternal intruder.

“It’s just for Mama and us!” they told their father. (Not cool for Dad, but at least the girls were completely into the fun)

Tuesday morning, when our window and door installation men called and said they were able to put in our doors several weeks early, I was thrilled. However, I knew I needed to be home during the entirety of the install and it was to take all day.

No Mama and girls extravaganza already? It was only day two and I was breaking the deal. This wasn’t going to fly. The Munchkins were going to be furious if on the second day I announced, “Today we are going to rearrange the furniture and make snow cones by whacking ice cubes on the counter in Ziplock baggies.”

We were planning on going to the Kansas City children’s museum, Wonderscope which claimed to be wondrous, so we were – scopeful! Crushing the dreams of my children so soon? I couldn’t let this happen. But come on, I really needed the doors installed!

So I called my mother to bail me out. She had a lunch date planned, but she said would be able to cancel it (thanks Karen L.) and relieve me of my duties, so I could stay at home with the work men.

Munchkin #1 even said, “Mama, can’t Grammy stay with the workmen so you can go with us?” Ah, she’s never wanted to ditch Grammy for Mom before.

That is when I knew I truly needed to be doing this makeup week for my girls. They were craving their mother’s undivided attention – away from the phone, away from texts, away from the computer. I may not have been able to give this kind of attention to them the majority of the summer; but as parents, who can?

There is always laundry, cooking, cleaning, errands, diapers, feedings, baths, etc. You know…parenting.

But for this one week, my daughters were getting all of me. Uninterrupted.

Yes, the rest of the week was amazing and we bonded more in this one week than we had probably all year. I would highly recommend doing it if you can.

So now my girls can go off to school this week and I can honestly say I enjoyed my summer with them.

We had incredible adventures – and yes…some of them did involve costumes!

What was the most fun thing you did with your kids this summer? Anything to add to my bucket list for next summer?

If you like what you read, “like” my Nurse Mommy Laughs Facebook page. It makes me feel loved and want to write more!


My Daughter is the Southside Baby Whisperer

When this title was in my head it sounded cute; but now on paper it looks kind of creepy…so let me get right to it.

My daughter LOVES babies.

All babies.


Never met a baby she didn't like

Never met a baby she didn’t like

Not only does she love them, but she lets out a loud, “Awww!!” each time we see an infant or really anyone younger than three years of age. The younger the child, the louder the intensity of her cries of affection.

She can’t control it. Somehow she is connected to them on a deep level and oddly enough they are to her.

Thankfully, she doesn’t ask for a baby sister or brother every day, since her father and I have no intention or equipment anymore for that (my husband would like me to mention it is not his equipment which is faulty.)

When trying to locate some library books for my older child, I briefly lost my “baby whisperer” at the library and I start muttering aloud, “where’s the nearest baby?”

And guess what?

There was a mom with a brand new baby in a stroller, and my 6 year-old daughter was feeding the baby her bottle.

I’m going to start tethering my girl to my belt loop so I can reel her back in where ever we are. She will not listen to me, her father, her grandparents, or the pediatricians warning of talking to strangers. We go over it and over it! But she cannot control herself.

The oddest part is I feel the need to apologize to these new mothers all the time.

What if they are germaphobes and my kid’s crowding their newborn?

Unlike those moms who have a litter of kids. Those are the moms who usually offer my daughter their baby for the remainder of the day.

Plus, this baby passion of hers is not short-lived. She has been telling teachers and actually everyone she meets that she will be a babysitter when she grows up.

Makes her father and I so proud of her lofty goal! No surgeon or rocket scientist here. She is wanting a steady low hourly wage and no set hours.

We’ve started training her to answer that she is going to own and run a daycare for underprivileged orphans, but she hasn’t quite caught on yet.

So for now, if you have a colicky baby; please feel free to call the 1-800 number we have set up for our girl.


Our daughter will get to the bottom of what’s wrong with your infant and communicate your baby’s needs.

And if you let her, she’ll feed her a bottle too!

Join me on Facebook or Twitter for spits and giggles.


Doc, Could You Try Killing me After my Vacation?

The other day on Facebook I mentioned my doctor, formerly known as my ex-drug dealer, had tried to kill me. Yeah, the bastard really gave it a college try, and by that I mean he should go back to college and take his pharmaceuticals class again.


Not only did he make a mistake, and God bless him because he IS human and we all do make mistakes – at least that is what I preach to my children so they forgive me for all the stupid things I routinely do – BUT the doctor’s auxiliary staff was just as bad, if not worse. Let’s just say…they are a royal mess and need of one of those of reality make-over shows. Do they have those yet for doctor’s offices? Might need to work on that idea…

So here is where the problem arose. I’m already taking some medication which helps me deal with my anxiety and stress. Nine years ago, my eldest daughter died and since then I have been taking medication to help me cope with my grief and anxiety. It works quite well, but sometimes I need a little lift when I’ve been on the same medication for too long.

This doctor who I have not been seeing for too long, and I did NOT choose, was just a transitional provider given to me by the physician’s office despite requests for someone else. My last physician had moved to another office further away and I was in the process of deciding where to go. I guess it wasn’t soon enough.

Leaving the boring details out and sticking to only the facts (because that’s the type of writer I am *ahem*), this physician made a medication error. Instead of giving me another medication to enhance the effects of the first medication, he prescribed a medication in the same family which basically was like overdosing me.

Now this was a newer medication which I was not familiar with and since I was struggling with anxiety at the time, I didn’t go to the pharmaceutical books and do my sound minded nurse research like I usually do. I acted like a normal patient and trusted my doctor to do his job and not give me medications which would harm me.

I went to Target with prescription in hand and figured while I was shopping for a few necessities like ice cream and yoga pants I would have their pharmacy fill my script to save me some time.

However, divine intervention happened at Tarjay. No lie! I’m surprised the rays of light and the big booming voice of God didn’t come over the loud speaker because when I got to the counter I did not have that prescription of doom, but another one for migraines was in my hand.

At the time, I laughed with the Target pharmacist and chucked the error off as being blonde. Little did she know, that miracle saved me since Target’s pharmacy has no record of what other medications I am taking.

After I completed my shopping, I drove to my regular pharmacy and asked them to fill it right away. The pharmacist tech looked in the computer and gave an odd look at the screen. Then she called over the pharmacist who then leered at me through the drive-thru window. Did they think I was going to make meth?

The tech asked if I was planning on taking the two medications at the same time. I said, “The doctor prescribed it that way. Yes.”

Then more concerned “meth user talk” on the other side of the bullet-proof glass. I turned my engine off. This obvious was becoming an issue. Finally, the pharmacist came to the window. Now everybody knows that when the pharmacist comes to talk to you, you are either in trouble or there is a problem. My heart rate quickened and I knew I wasn’t making meth in my garage!

“Ms. Hatton, you were going to be taking these at the same time?” she asked.

I thought we had made that clear, but maybe she needed it for court records. *Speak slowly and clearly into the microphone, Ms. Hatton. This is for the record.*

“These two medications cannot be taken together. It is extremely dangerous,” the pharmacist tried to mask her utter terror. “The computer has shown this to be…flagged!”

“Flagged?! The doctor was just trying to give me a little oomph to what I am already taking,” I explained.

“This oomph could put you into Serotonin Syndrome.” And BOOM!

Now my symptoms cleared up and my nurse brain kicked into overdrive and the definition came flooding back from nursing school so many years ago.

Serotonin Syndrome:
(def. a potentially life-threatening drug reaction that may occur following therapeutic drug use; possible signs and symptoms: sweating, hallucinations, high blood pressure, seizures, coma, renal failure, and/or death)


The pharmacist nicely asks me who now resembles a freaked out meth user, “Would you like for me to call your doctor to check on this?”

“Uh, YEAH!” I might have said that a tad too sarcastically to the woman who just saved my life. “That would be great.”

So after the pharmacy called the doctor’s office twice, and I went psycho on the phone nurse who insisted her doctor had written the script down in my chart so the “poison apple” must be what he wanted me to take.

“He wrote ‘Take one poisoned apple before hour of sleep.’ It’s here in the chart, so that is what he wants!” she said as certain as the day is long. Grrr…

Let’s just say, she ended up talking to the doctor per my persuasive request; and lo and behold, later I got a phone call from the nurse saying he had changed his mind and wanted me to be on something else. She said nothing about an error or him trying to snuff me out. Nary a word about him hating my blog or perhaps he had an ex-wife who resembled me. Not a word!

Oh, I take that back…he did want to “see me back in the office in 2 weeks to see how things were going.”

Over my dead body!

Lesson here is to always use ONE PHARMACY FOR ALL YOUR MEDICATIONS. If you get things filled in different places, you don’t have a second person (computer is a 3rd) to check drug compatibilities.

Anyone else had something like this happen or have a doc do something crazy to them or their kid? Don’t use their names, but I would love to hear your stories. Your story might help save someone else!


Smells that make you go AUWKWARD

Recently, I was driving a group of girls to a practice/event/party/school/something, and from the back of the van I hear, “It smells like a dog fart in the car.” Normally, I would have lifted up my arm a bit and waved it toward my nose to see if I was the offending party; but I knew I had recently showered, for my hair was still damp and I haven’t gotten to the age where those windy affairs waft out unwarranted. Yet. (Spoiler alert: Munchkin#2 took off her shoes)Waft On

Then uncomfortable giggles from the back of the van were heard, then a long silent pause. My hubby and I have (from the beginning) told our girls we strongly dislike the word “fart.” We use “toot” instead. We’s proper that way!! If you know me, you are rolling your eyes because I unfortunately have the mouth of a sailor. This is the outcome of years in the theatre and running around with gypsies. But seriously, I do not like to hear children using harsh language. They are to develop that skill set in high school like the rest of the proper folk.

The next day Munchkin #1 felt it necessary to bring up this story like she needed to confess she had robbed a bank. She was mortified her friend had used THAT word and was afraid if someone in an authority position were to overhear her dear friend repeat the word, she would get sent to prison or worse have her TV privileges revoked.

We discussed how some families may find certain language appropriate, but others don’t. This was perplexing for a first grader. AND her mother. I tried to make it clear for her, but you know when you talk to your child for more than 2 minutes and their eyes start to glaze over and drool forms in the corner of their mouth? I don’t think she quite got the lesson this time.

However, sometimes this happens in reverse. I never thought my young children would be able to stump me so frequently with general life questions. Not like, “How can God watch all of us at the same time?” I knew I wasn’t going to have a snappy answer in that category, but I can always throw it back to, “You’ll have to ask our Pastor. Great question!” I am NOT afraid of delegating parenting/education duties of my children. Takes a village, Pastor. See you on Sunday!!

At least once every week, one of my kids asks me something that I have no clue what the answer is. I’m starting to think God gave us children to show us we don’t know anything. The television show “Are You Smarter than a Fifth Grader?” was so popular because those producers were being polite to the viewers. Come on, my first grader is kicking my tail already! Would you like a piece of humble pie, Mrs. Hatton?Hyperventilate2

You know how kids are always creating certain sayings that describe something, but the true definition is not used? For example, “that’s so cool” really doesn’t have any thermal change when spoken. Or “phat,” “kickin,’” “rad,” or my new favorite…awkward. Yeah, feel free to go ahead and use it. All the grade schooler’s are saying it! If you aren’t, well…that’ awk-ward.

My eldest daughter is saying “awkward” as her adjective of choice. Really she uses it for any part of speech. Awk-ward! The problem is I don’t know if she is using it correctly, or if she is becoming one of those Saturday Night Live! characters that just doesn’t get it. I know as a parent I need for her to figure it out on her own, but BOOM! She asked for a definition and I didn’t have my Webster’s near my fingertips.

So this is how it went down one morning:

Munchkin #1: This toast is awk-ward.

Me: It is? Why is your toast making you feel that way?

M1: What do you mean?

Me: I thought you said your toast was awkward?

M1: It is so VERY awkward.

Me: I thought awkward was a feeling.

M1: How can it be a feeling?

Me: Like sad, or mad, or embarrassed…you feel like something is awkward. (Now I know I’m in trouble)

M1: I thought awkward meant “weird.”

Me: In the old days it kinda meant that, but I don’t know if the kids are using the word differently now or if you are saying it wrong. Never mind, I’m sure you and your friends will figure it out. (Oh, I’m rapidly aging through this conversation!)

M1: So it doesn’t mean “weird?”

Me: It’s like this (getting in trouble quick)…if you go out in the backyard with your friends and you look down and see you are wearing one red sock and one pink sock – and you are just a little bit embarrassed. Not so embarrassed that you want to cry or throw up or hide in the closet, but just a tiny bit embarrassed, you would say, “That’s awkward.” Does that make sense?

M1: What if I had one red sock and one purple sock?

Student 1: Teacher 0

Early Release

So anybody staying above their kids in math? Oh, Lawd!! This homework thing is going to derail me soon, I can feel it!