Wings & Feet

Welcome to a new school year.

I hate the first day of class. It's always the same old thing. Introduce yourself, tell why you're in the class ("because it's required to get my degree" isn't really what the instructor wants to hear, I know this), sign the no cheating paper, hear names & info on a bunch of students you don't care about. Yay.

At one of my classes we had to share something funny/amusing/quirky/interesting about ourselves with the class. The class had to comment, in a positive way only, on our weird personality trait.

I shared a phobia of mine. It wasn't my fear of eyebrows that I decided to share today. I decided to go with my fear of anything with wings & feet. Even though I think it is perfectly rational to run screaming with your hands over your head when you see an animal flying within 500 feet of you, the hubs says otherwise.

According to my instructor, butterflies are beautiful & tranquil. Uh, no, have you ever looked into a butterfly's eyes?

Go ahead & call that beautiful. I call it freaky.

What else has wings & feet? Flies. Hmm...someone was somehow influenced by something to be able to come up with this

Yeah, that's The Fly. Wings & feet. Obviously I'm not the only one with this phobia because there's no other way to explain how you come up with something that hideous.

But that's not what made me scared of anything with wings & feet.

I grew up on a farm. We had chickens. One of my jobs was to get the eggs out of the hen house. If you were a big giant bird with these big flappy things hanging off your body, and you were just sitting in your nest, on your beloved little babies inside their beautiful hard shells, what would you do if this strawberry-blonde 10 year old girl reached under your butt to steal your little darlings? Apparently you would jump on top of her head, claw at her scalp & use your flappy things to beat the side of her head while you pulled her hair out, 9 strands at a time, with your pin-sharp 7" beak. Yes, their beaks were that long, I swear it. What does that 10 year old girl's brother do while she's being attacked by that freaky bird? He whacks at it with a bucket which makes the other scary big ol' birds with big flappy things & sharp beaks jump up & down to help their hen sister eat the girl's long hair, so the 2 children are surrounded by wings & feet.

It's not pretty. I know, because I was that 10 year old girl (didn't see that one coming, did you?) I'm deeply scarred from that experience. In more ways than one. My head is lopsided. That damn chicken ate the scalp on half my head. Because of that I have to wear the back of my hair all poofed up so you can't see the lumps. I have itty bitty feathers stuck in my eye sockets from that damn chicken's wings beating my eyeballs, which caused me to have bad eyesight. Because of that I have to wear glasses. And because of all of it, I'm scared of birds. They're all out to get me.

Okay, so I exaggerated a wee bit there about the effects of the chicken attack (exaggerating is something I rarely ever do). I don't have a dented head & there aren't any feathers under my eyeballs. I do need glasses & that experience did cause me to be scared of all birds. And I do poof my hair, but that's just 'cause that's what I do.

But that's not what made me scared of anything with wings & feet.

When I was 14 we moved to a bigger farm. Oh, what a joy moving is. It's even more of a joy when you have only a few days to move 72 sheds & barns full of stuff, so it was a great day. I was carrying a box when I felt something on my boob. Or what would one day be a real boob. I wasn't very blessed in the mammary department at 14. I dropped the box, looked down my shirt...this was looking up at me from my right boobie...

Yeeeaaaahhh...that's a Praying Mantis. On my body! Under my shirt! Uninvited! So what would you do if you saw that peeking up from your little white bra?

I screamed. Not just a "oh crap that surprised me" scream. An "oh shit something green & alive has attached itself to my precious body part that's already smaller than my friends' & after it devours that body part it's going to eat my face" scream. My poor father. He thought I was being kidnapped (I know this because I was a nosy kid & I overheard him telling my Mom that).

He came running around the house with the most terrified look on his face to find me topless, my clothing on the ground, yelling, "Get it off of me!! Get it off of me!!" After he plucked it off of me, he collapsed on the ground and said, "Why, Eddi? It was a bug. It wasn't going to hurt you." Was he serious?? This man who was laying on the ground panting & trying to put his heart back in his chest after thinking his daughter was being taken away from him...did he really just say that nasty thing wasn't going to hurt me?

"No, Dad, it was a 4' alien on MY BOOB!!"

That is why I'm scared of anything with wings & feet.

Facing Fears

It's no secret that I have some normal-ish phobias as well as some really odd ones that even I know are not normal things to be scared of.

First up: I'm terrified of clowns because of that stupid movie It. I read the book when I was 13 and had no problems. Then I saw literally 4 seconds of the movie as I was flipping through channels when I was 18. It was a close-up of Pennywise the Clown and I flipped right out of my skin. Screamed and lost control of all motor function which caused me to take forever to change the channel. A lot of people are scared of clowns, many due to this movie, so that's not so odd.

Next: I'm terrrified of bridges. When I was a kid, I had no problem riding my bike over the bridge to get to my swimming lessons. The phobia developed when I started driving. Suddenly I had visions of the bridge crumbling under the weight of vehicles and sinking to my death in the water below. Again, not so unusual. A lot of people are scared of bridges. 

Nope, nope,nope, nope.

Then there's my fear of anything with wings and feet. Click here for the history on that one. A bird will make me run away screaming while covering my head because I just know it wants to land on my head and scratch my face off. Grasshoppers and crickets are terrifying. Praying mantis make me pee my pants. 

I'm having heart palpatations just looking at this devil.

I can't forget about my fear of rats and mice. Not all rodents, because hamsters are pretty cool. Watching those hoarding shows and seeing rats or mice run all over the place when they move a box causes me to have a panic attack. That fear is thanks to my mother who reacts the same exact way. 

A fear that I have kept secret from everyone but my parents and anyone I've been married to is my phobia of automatic car washes. That one started when I was a toddler and my parents went through the car wash. I don't remember it, but my parents say that I screamed and literally flew over the seat at them (pre-car seats for toddlers). I was inconsolable and forever after that I flipped out on them whenever we went through a car wash. 

I have successfully avoided going through a car wash on my own. Hubby washes the vehicles for me and I'm happy with that. If hubby decided the car needed to be washed and we had the children with us, it would force me to act like a grown-up and keep my anxiety to a minimum so they wouldn't freak out as well. For 37 years I've successfully avoided being alone inside the death trap known as a car wash.

Until Thursday. I got brave. My beautiful little Mini Cooper, Elphie, was so dirty from the winter roads and I couldn't avoid it any longer. I got all my courage together and before I could chicken out, I drove up and paid for an automatic car wash. 

Before my brain could kick in and tell me to back out and go home, I drove forward into the scary, cold, not dark coffin. Once the water turned on, I realized I was completely trapped and death was imminent. I took pictures so that I could document my death and anyone who came looking for me could see what happened in my last moments of terror. 

Oh, crap, I'm really
doing this.

I've forgotten how
to breathe!

How much damage would it
cause to my car if I just drove
through that door and left now?

I'm not brave! I'm not
brave! I'm not brave! 

Now I can't see! I'm being
burried alive.

I was so proud of myself. I survived! I felt like the day that I held a bird, after my friend spent a series of days helping me get closer and closer to her awesome pet bird.

I came home and told Ginger Girl, "I've kept this from you kids, but I'm deathly afraid of car washes. Today I..."

She cut me off. "I already knew that." Flabbergasted, I asked how she could know a secret I had guarded so well. "I figured it out a long time ago. Whenever you would say the car needed to be washed and I'd suggest the car wash, you'd say 'oh, we can just do it at home'. Also, whenever someone else was driving and went through one, you couldn't breathe."

All that time pretending to be a grown-up was just wasted. She was never fooled. Oh well, I didn't die in the car wash and I'm proud of myself.

Fly High, Butterfly

Disclaimer: The photos in this post are not mine and I am using them with the permission of the photos' owner. As with all photos on this blog, you may not reproduce or use these photos for your own use. 

 Let's talk about Epidermolysis Bullosa. EB for short. Never heard of it? That's okay. I hadn't either until I met my amazing friend & his amazing daughter.

First, let me introduce you to Butterfly C and Butterfly C's Dad.

Precious.

When Butterfly C's Dad had this beautiful baby girl, he devoted his entire life to her, just like any other loving, caring parent does. What he has had to do goes beyond what most parents dream of having to do when they begin their new life with a baby though.

Beautiful baby...

...to beautiful teenager.

That's because his daughter, Butterfly C, was born with what is called EB. Two initials that stand for a parent's nightmare and a child's life of unending pain. Two initials that don't at all tell you the suffering a person goes through. Two initials that seem innocent but stand for a horrifying, life-stealing illness.

EB is a rare genetic connective tissue disorder that affects approximately 1 out of every 20,000 live births. Those with EB have skin that is so fragile it tears and blisters from even the slightest little friction.

Butterfly C was born missing skin on her legs and feet. She was also missing some on her head from the forceps used during her delivery. Imagine holding your newborn only to find that their skin wasn't developed correctly and your touch was actually hurting this tiny little person who means the world to you. In that moment you are now required to become an expert in medical care and procedures for a medically fragile child.

The skin peeled off Butterfly C's ear.

EB is painful.

There is no cure for EB.

EBKids.org  says this on their What is EB page: Try to imagine a person with painful wounds similar to burns covering most of his or her body. Unlike burns these wounds never go away. For children, riding a bike, skating, or participating in sports is difficult because normal activities of children causes chronic sores. Wounds may cover up to 75 percent of the body. Imagine a diet of only liquids or soft foods because blistering and scarring occur in the mouth and esophagus. Scarring also causes the fingers and toes to fuse, leaving deformities which severely limit function. Imagine a life tied to hospitals for wound treatment, blood transfusions, biopsies and surgeries. The eyes often blister preventing sight for days. Chronic anemia reduces energy and growth is retarded. There is little hope for life beyond 30 years. Children with EB are often referred to as Butterfly Children because their skin is as fragile as a butterfly's wings.

This describes the life of a child born with the severe forms of epidermolysis bullosa.

Butterfly C's hand, fused from EB, next to her
brother's hand also affected by EB. 

Covered in protective
bandages. 

Such a beautiful, generous, happy girl. Through daily pain, still thinking about others.

With the toys bought to brighten other
kids' holidays. 

The parents of children with EB spend several thousands of dollars a month on just bandages and dressings. A month. These are necessary to protect open areas from infection and from more trauma, and to provide a layer so the friction of clothing doesn't take off more skin. Insurance won't cover all, if any, of these items. These families have to pay out of pocket for things that are medically necessary for their child and often end up sacrificing in other areas to afford these necessities. That's on top of medical bills for frequent doctor's visits and hospital stays, for transfusions, for medication for frequent infections. That's on top of having to buy special, or pay to have altered, clothing, carseats, wheelchairs, etc. that won't pull off their skin. And let's not forget the lift-equipped van they have to buy if their child is in a wheelchair. 

On top of spending hours a day bandaging a child who is sick of it all and wants to go play a game that they aren't allowed to play, these parents spend all day watching out for and trying to prevent/avoid all dangerous situations. Like stopping a 10 month old baby from getting bloody knees from crawling on the floor. Or a 3 year old from scratching his arms open from scratching an itch. Or the 6 year old who wants to ride a bike with his friends but a helmet and knee pads aren't even close to the protection he needs. They also have to monitor their nutritional intake, avoid dehydration, and sometimes use a g-tube to feed their child. These children need around the clock care, requiring either an expensive home care nurse or a parent to stay home full-time, reducing income options.  

On top of the time and finances needed for your child...Imagine not being able to hug them tight because doing so would pull their skin off. Imagine seeing people staring at your child's scars and fused hands or hearing rude comments directed at and about your child. Imagine wrapping every inch of your child in Vaseline and several layers of gauze every single day, but never letting them play games like other kids because scrapes and bruises are major trauma. 

It is truly the worst disease you never heard of. And we need to get word out so that more people are aware. Most physicians don't know enough about it to even recognize it, much less how to care for a child with it.

Butterfly C's Dad is an amazing man who recently lost his daughter to complications from Epidermolysis Bullosa. He had to go through what no parent wants to go through: the death of his child. My heart has been broken for him, and like everyone else, I want to help but know there is nothing I can do to ease his pain. I realized that while I'm helpless to ease his pain, I can spread word about this illness. In honor of Butterfly C, a beautiful, smiling angel who is now pain-free and petting all the cats.

Now that you know about Epidermolysis Bullosa, I am asking you to do something about it.

You can go to this page on Facebook to help out a child with EB by buying something from their wish list--make the child smile and take a wee bit of the burden off the parents. You can go to this page for other ways to help people with EB. You can do a search and find EB charities and help someone that way. Make wishes come true or financial situations just a little bit easier. Or simply tell one other person about EB. You never know if the person you tell will be the one that tells the person that tells their child that grows up to find a cure for EB. 

Wings & Feet & 1 Arm

Once upon a time there was a girl in a small town who loved birds. Not too far away, in another small town, was another girl who develops a phobia of birds at age 9. One day these girls meet as adults & discover they have a lot in common, except for the love of birds. They become friends. The first girl, Crazy Bird Lover decides she is going to  make help girl #2, Ms. Wings & Feet Phobia see birds as wonderful creatures. Ms. Wings & Feet Phobia isn't sure how Crazy Bird Lover will do this, but Ms. Wings & Feet Phobia is always up for an adventure & a challenge. Ms. Wings & Feet Phobia put all her trust into Crazy Bird Lover & decides she is ready to work on her horrible phobia. 

Here's their story. 

It's not a secret that one of my biggest phobias is anything with wings & feet. Butterflies, moths, birds, they're all terrifying. 

I will scream & cover my head the second I see a bird. There have been times I haven't even seen a bird. I've just felt his beady little eyes boring into the back of my head & that was enough to send me flying for cover (see what I did there? I'm totally funny). 

It would be like me to become friends with someone who thinks birds are better than people. I like this lady but she is seriously nuts. She not only likes birds, she touches them. She has them in her house! Willingly, voluntarily, lovingly touches them & has them in her house. I told you she's nuts. 

There have been many times that I have said that God sits up in Heaven plotting ways to mess with me & then He calls over all the Angels to laugh at these obstacles in my life & see how I handle them. I just know that He plays videos of my life at the Heavenly Christmas parties every year. "Dude, you are gonna love this one. Watch what happens next...[chuckle, gasping for air]...isn't that the best?" I just know that is what happens up there. 

Meeting Crazy Bird Lover was one of His ideas of a joke. I know it. 'Cause there is no other explanation for how I ended up in a house, peeking around the wall into the room where FOUR birds were, jumping every time one of them fluttered around their cage.

Being determined & hating phobias, I went to Crazy Bird Lover's house to meet Gracie. Gracie is a bird. And I actually went there by myself, not forced into the vehicle & driven there by an evil person wanting to torture me. I did this to myself. 

First off, I have to say that when you are so afraid of something that you become paralyzed by it, it takes  a lot of trust to allow someone to expose you to the thing you most fear. I had to trust that Crazy Bird Lady wouldn't force a bird on me before I was ready or laugh at me when the fear took over & made me cry (it's happened). 

That trust was not misplaced. Because...

I did it! I'm not over the fear, but I actually held a bird & that's a huge step in getting over my phobia.

Thank you, Crazy Bird Lady!

Tough Mudder 2014

Hubby ran his 2nd Tough Mudder on Saturday. 

We stopped for gas & my 2nd favorite coffee. While walking up to the store, I looked at what I had thought was a piece of wood that fell off of someone's truck. It's that season where people are stocking their wood piles for the winter so you can find fallen wood chunks anywhere. Totally normal.

But no, it wasn't wood.  I turned around to hubby as I was walking, "Hey, babe, need a soup bone?"  Totally not normal. 

I realize that it doesn't look that big from where I took the picture, but trust me, it was the size of my foot. And I have big size 9 1/2 feet. I didn't run back to it to get a picture because apparently there is a whole lotta traffic at that gas station at 5 in the morning. I was too glassy eyed and spaced out from my brain thinking it was still in bed to be able to navigate vehicles a second time just to get a better picture. The first time I did it just to walk in to get my coffee was rough enough.

Someone lost a piece
of their cow. How
does that happen?

I love road trips with hubby. We can have more in-depth conversations than we can normally have. It's just unfortunate it doesn't happen too often. Usually there is a certain 12 year old child who likes to think he has to know everything we are talking about or a teenager asking for money or a red head that has to ask me something right now...Road trip conversations contain actual complete thoughts! And they're not rushed! So strange & unfamiliar.

I narrowed the many, many pictures & videos down for this post, which was not easy. I really wanted to just post everything because I am so proud of him. I dare say narrowing them down was more difficult than doing the Tough Mudder course (please don't tell hubby I said that...even though I know he would agree with that...) but I Tough Mudder Wifed through it. Booyah!

I wish we could have watched all of the obstacles on the course but the spectator routes were set up to view only some of them. It'd be great to have a GoPro on his head so I could see what I missed. Next year.

2-hour car ride + lots of
coffee & protein
bars = Ready! 

You need to warm up more than
your thumbs, buddy boy.

The entire 11+ mile course, in Polly Pocket size. 

I met a lady in the spectator line who had no idea what she was doing there. Literally. I started talking about different obstacles on the course and she was so confused. She told me that her friends asked her to be their photographer for the day but wouldn't tell her what it was for until that morning. On the way there. She had no time to look it up. Girly was in for a treat. 

When people started pushing out of line to get our spot because they just didn't want to wait in the mile-long line that we had just waited our turns in, she turned to me, "Please be my sister for the day? Don't leave me!" I looked down at this girl, 6 inches shorter than me, with no clue what kind of day she was in for, and became her warrior guardian. It helped that she was a fellow red head and funny. I instantly liked her. 

I pushed back against the people and used all my 5'10" red head fiery power to let all those stupid people know that they could not budge in our line. They were quite mad at me, but everyone around me cheered as we suddenly didn't have 15 people pushing us into a ball of bodies slammed in inapprorpriate positions into other unfamiliar bodies. Yeah, that's right, girlfried, I got your back. 

We stuck together at the beginning but her friends were faster than hubby so she ended up going ahead of me to obstacles so I lost my little sister-friend. I will think of her always. 

I did get to have awesome company with me as Dad2 joined me for the day. I had such a blast with him; talking, walking, watching hubby. I was the proud wife, he was the proud father. It was pretty cool to share the experience with him. 

So here's hubby in the Arctic Enema. The name says it all, really. It's a big pool of water that has ice continuously poured into it so that it is as cold as it could possibly be. At around 3 seconds on the video you can hear him "whooo" as he pops up on the other side of the wall in the middle of the pool, right into all ice. 

After:

This has got to be one of my
favroitest pictures of hubby
ever.

A man said, "Don't 
worry, man, they'll
drop again in 2 days."
Ow. They should rename 
it Testicle Hide & Seek.

Walk the Plank. Hubby has a fear of heights that matches my fear of wings and feet. I'm super proud of him for going through with this one, especially. It looks like fun to me but I know if there were birds or crickets at the top of that thing, you'd never get me even close to the steps to get to the top. That's about how he felt having to jump down.  

Mid-air action shot.

Someone looks
awfully proud of himself.

I keep calling this one Fire in Your Butt. Close enough...

Comin' down!

Blast off!

I had already been ahead of the course to see what was next but the way the course was set up, the runners wouldn't be able to actually see it until they were a couple feet in front of it. The awesome power of hilly turrain. 

Me: "You ready for the next one?" 

Hubby: "What is it?" 

Me: "You're gonna love it. Really love it."

He didn't believe me.

Rightfully so. 

Welcome back to boot camp, sir.

This was a special course for Tough Mudder Legionnaires, containing 2 obstacles that only the  idiots Tough Mudders who had done the course at least once before got to  injure themselves patake in. 

Barbed wire...
not my idea of a fun day.

You can do it!

Made it!

And the last obstacle of the day for the Legionnaires...

Giggidy!
Get my Family Guy reference here?

A hard-earned beer handed out at the
finish line. 

With all 3 headbands.

That's MY 2x Tough Mudder!

You can't run this course without some mud and owies. 

A medic had to wrap
his foot halfway in.

Dirt under a bandage.
Yum.

Surprisingly,
this is the worst of his
battle scars from the day.

Not to be left out, I received my own mud and owies. My sunscreen decided it did not like doing its job. No reason. It just said, "Ha ha, see-through Irish girl, we will make you pay for enjoying this day!"

Very ow.
P.S. the unburnt part is
actually my deeper shade
of pale/tan from the summer.

I can't show you where I had mud but that was an odd little surprise when I undressed & mud came out of my bra. My bra. I was a spectator. How did I get mud in my bra?? 

Oh, I also walked 5 miles. My spine isn't quite ready for that walk, as I learned that night and yesterday, but hey, I did it. 

We celebrated our muddiness & my
Tough Mudder man with pizza & beer
& TV in bed. We even got the beer
that sponsors the event. 

Yesterday I Almost Died...Twice

I've been wanting a new purse. That's all, just a bug up my butt to get a new purse. Add to that that yesterday I felt the need to get away from my children. No reason, I was just annoyed. So when you put those things together, I ended up shopping. 

I decided to just stroll the handy dandy Goodwill store to look at the books. I find the most awesome books there sometimes. Like this one:

I giggled for a little while wondering why she wrote a whole book on this topic, and why a financial expert would even want to discuss this topic...until I realized it didn't say "Socks and Blondes." 

Then I looked around to see if anyone saw me standing in an aisle holding a book & giggling to myself. Then I put the book back 'cause the real title doesn't sound nearly as interesting as the one I thought it was. Bummer.

Then I found this book...

Oh, look, that's my foot.

I figured if anything will prove I am not in fact a vampire, it would be The Complete Vampire Companion. To all my friends: I am truly just see-through. My face/name/stats/social security number were found nowhere in this book. I looked. And it's the complete vampire book. So, yes, Virginia, I'm just an Irish girl that the sun cannot penetrate.

Then I stroll over to the purses for no reason other than I wanted to kill time 'cause the aforementioned children were waiting for me at home. And that was where I yelled, "Score!" Truly, I scored. Not that kind of score...not in a Goodwill...ew. I found myself a Gucci purse for $7.99 & a Michael Kors for $3.99. Dude, they were the exact ones I was eyeing up online, but seriously did not want to pay $850 for the Gucci one or $795 for the Kors. I love living in a small town that doesn't know the true value of these things. By hiding from my children, I saved myself hundreds of dollars. Go me!

So I ran out of the store clutching my new purses to my chest before the purse police could catch up to me & demand I pay a fair price for them, and jumped in my truck as fast as I could. Then I giggled. Again. 'Cause I had some awesome finds in my hands. Not only did I get them cheap but they look brand-new AND they don't smell like Grandma's attic! 

I rolled down my window because it was like, 120 degrees at least it was, to my hot flashing menopausal body and as I was driving a big bird was flying through the parking lot. I had a vision of it swooshing right through my window & landing on my head & pecking one piece of hair out of my head at a time & I would be fighting this nightmare off my head & not paying attention to where I was driving & I would drive into another car & die. And that would ruin my good day 'cause I would die next to my new purses. And I would die bald. 

I rolled up my window. 

I came home & let the 15 1/2 year old with the brand-new temps drive my beloved truck. Oh, dear Lord, I have my first driver. That ride was 4 hours 15 minutes of torture. 

It was the second time in the same day that I came so close to death. And both times I was close to my new purses. I don't know which would be worse, to die at the wings & feet of an evil bird inside my truck or to die at the hands of my baby girl on the wheel of my other baby. 

I wanted Amazing Grace to practice in my truck because frankly, if you can learn to park an SUV, you can park anything. I've driven pick-ups, vans, mini vans, little trucks, big trucks, tiny cars, regular cars, big cars...I know what I speak of. 

Source

I wish this had been us... 

...instead of this.

Happy is not the word to describe the look on Amazing Grace's face...scared is not strong enough of a word to describe the look on my face.  

I had to remind her that while turning a truck she needs to be going at a much slower pace than the car she's been practicing driving...because I wasn't in the mood to flip over on the corner of our block...and that a truck needs to turn tighter than a car because of its size...and because the cars in the other lane appreciate it when you stay out of said lane...The granny in the car behind us at a stop sign did her own job of showing us how much she appreciated waiting while Daughter waited for the vehicles that were 600 feet down the road. But eh, granny can get over it. I had no problem with Daughter's extra cautious attitude. 

Hubby did ask me after we got home if I'd gotten his text since I didn't answer him. I said, "It's hard to read a text when you're covering your eyes."

As we got out of the vehicle after safely arriving home (and using a unique maneuver where you drive over 6" of curb & grass as the means to getting to the driveway), we both got out of the truck & at the same time said, "I am never driving with you again."

I don't know why she would say that to me. It's not like I ever said, "Slowdownslowdownslowdown, dear Lord, SLOW DOWN MORE before you turn!" or anything else in that manner. Or maybe I did. I was having an out of body experience at the time.