This was Going to be a Facebook Status but I’m so Enraged That Now it’s a Blog.

Mini-me had a little accident the other day. She fell while playing Capture the Flag. Long story short, she was immediately admitted to the Children’s Hospital in our area and had surgery to set the break.




It’s two days later and she is still in the hospital recovering. We should go home as soon as physical therapy comes by today. Notwithstanding the reason for Mini-Me’s hospitalization, this has been a very pleasant experience. I was already drafting a blog post in my head about the wonderful nurses, CNAs, MDs, and volunteers that have been absolutely fabulous to Mini-Me and me, especially when I was irrational and rude. Everyone is always smiling and forgiving and tolerant.

I stayed both nights with Mini-Me. She’s been able to sleep because she’s on drugs and in a bed. Oh my gosh she snores!


I slept may be 5 minutes. My “bed” is a pullout chair that I couldn’t figure out how to fully extend the first night. My pillow is flatter than Channing Tatum’s abs and I have bath towels that are larger than the “blankets” they gave me. All this to say that I’m EXHAUSTED and NEED coffee. Thank heavens there’s a Starbucks downstairs.

Just a tad longer and you can have some coffee. You can wait to go until after Mini-Me is settled and the shift change is over so the line won’t be so long. Oh my gosh, I’m so tired. Hang in there, Caroline. Coffee is 6 floors away. You can make it.

Holy snot balls! What the $%?\@ is this?!?!? The freaking Starbucks is CLOSED! What does that frickin’ sign say? Starbucks hours: Open M-F, Closed Saturday & Sunday.

WHAT!?! NO ONE IS EVER IN THE HOSPITAL ON THE WEEKENDS?!? This is a flippin’ teaching hospital, one of the largest in our state. People are everywhere and no one needs coffee because it’s Saturday? I call BS!


Oh my gosh, this is hell. I’ve died and gone to hell. I’m actually in hell. Coffee is gated behind that stupid sign. I can see it. It’s right there, but I can’t touch it. Can’t taste it. Drugs all around but none for me. I can see them but can’t use them. Everyone asks Mini-Me if she needs anything but I have to fend for myself and am left with no freakin’ Starbucks. Yep. I’m in hell.


SATs and Mini-Me.

Mini-Me finally got past her fourth attempt at her second (2nd) time taking the SATs. Did you catch that? Yeah, well [gulp wine], she took her first test her junior year. Decided to take her second test on her BIRTHDAY at the conclusion of her junior year. By the way, her birthday always (ALWAYS) falls on the LAST day of the LAST week of the school year.  Yes folks, her birthday. I asked her not to schedule her test on that day because she won’t want to go, but why should she listen to me? I’m just her mom after all.

Of course, the day of her birth started just like any other – a day of whining because she shouldn’t have to take her SATs on her birthday. “Fine,” I said.  “You get to pay for rescheduling it.” “Fine!” she retorts. She relents because she realizes how much that is in StarBUCKS and storms off to take her SATs. I slip back into bed, wiping my sweaty, (hairless) eyebrows. Barely 20 minutes later, I hear the front door.  She forgot her admittance ticket. Instead of calling me to bring it to her, which would have kept her on time, she drives aaaallllllllllllll the way back home to get it. Needless to say, she missed her 1st attempt at her 2nd SAT test. Yes, that was her birthday gift: big, fat argument with mom for forgetting such a thing. Her 2nd and 3rd attempts at her 2nd time to take the SATs failed because she overslept. Her 4th attempt at her second test finally took place THIS past Saturday, despite her efforts to thwart best-made-plans. [THANK YOU, GOD!]

Regardless, I’m here to celebrate the SATs. Let’s encourage all these l’il ducklings to find their wings and flee the nest. Oh my gosh, please flee. So, in honor of SAT prep, I present to you an analogy which I hold close to my heart because it’s my motto so true. (This will be on the test, so pay attention.)