Last night we had to put back all the picture frames, vases, artificial plants, (I am the Jack Kevorkian of house plants.) candles, and various knick knacks I never dust. We were uprooted this weekend for renovations.

Nearly every candleholder or frame he picked up, Greyson said, “Where does this go?” Or, “Uh. Here. You put this one away. I don’t know where it goes.”

I remind you we’ve lived in this house for 7 years. I gawked at him, exasperated and asked, “How do you not know that picture goes on the shelf by the TV?!”

He said, “Amy, who’s the starting running back for Auburn this year?”

::blink::

“Uh, I don’t know,” I replied, unsure of where he was going with this one.

He said, “Yeah, and why don’t you know? Because you don’t care!”

“I care about College Football!!! But, not that much,” I said honestly.

“Exactly! I care about decorating, but not that much,” he replied, and handed me another frame.

Just FYI, this is Tre Mason. Many (a.k.a. Greyson) believe he will be Auburn’s starting RB this year. War Eagle!

Last night I frantically searched for WiFi from a third floor room at a hotel just two miles from our home. This weekend was affectionately dubbed “Gypsy Weekend” as we spent the night with our friends one night, and my mom the other.

Some of the feedback we’ve gotten from perspective buyers was that they thought our hardwood floors needed refinishing and carpet needed to be replaced. Ugh. Okay. We did it.

We weren’t feeling so affectionate by the time Sunday rolled around. We were ready to get home. When we walked in the door the stink of polyurethane was so strong I had to put my nose under my shirt like you did in 3rd grade when some kid farted in class.

Our furniture was stowed in closets, pushed in front of the sink, and blocking the bathrooms. Clearly the work wasn’t done. Greyson got on the phone as I discovered a bunch of our stuff was left outside in the rain, including the diaper pail.

Emptying the soggy s&*# filled bin was our last straw. We got a room with a king-sized bed and took a dip in the heated pool, all on the flooring company’s dime.

Someone come buy our house, please. The floors are immaculate and some poor crew had to clean this up after feeling the wrath of wary gypsy parents with a toddler.

I’ve heard of renovation nightmares.  We’re not the only ones, right?  Please tell me you’ve been through this too.

I want to be the kind of mother who is open to different interests of her children, even if they are far from interesting to me. But, at the same time, not over bearing with opinions should a child become involved in something I love too.

I want to be the kind of mother who sometimes makes pancakes for dinner and macaroni and cheese for breakfast.

I want to be the kind of mother who raises voracious readers.

I want to be the kind of mother who wants to run after my child when I drop her off at summer camp. Partly because I’ll miss her, and partly because I want to join in on all the fun I know she’ll have.

I want to be the kind of mother who drops everything to splash in puddles in the rain, even if it’s a weekday evening, and we have things to do.

I want to be the kind of mother who can make a birthday cake but, knows it’s okay to buy a really awesome one from the store.

I want to be the kind of mother who lets my kids lick the beaters if I bake the cake.

I want to be the kind of mother who sometimes lets the kids watch TV on trays in the living room.

I want to be the kind of mother who encourages fruits and vegetables, but understands a little high fructose corn syrup slipping in their diets is okay.

I want to be the kind of mother that one day a year, takes my kids out of school just to go to the zoo.

I want to be the kind of mother who never puts myself down in front of my children.

I want to be the kind of mother who saves artwork, but donates old toys.

I want to be the kind of mother who is best friends with my children’s father and remains on a united front with him. I want to love him wholly and without reservation.

I want to be the kind of mother who still listens to Top 40 and wears bikinis through my 30’s.

I want to be the kind of mother who expects effort, not perfection.

I want to be the kind of mother who volunteers her time to show effort and dedication.

I want to be the kind of mother who can say the only lie I ever told to my children was about Santa Claus.

I want to be the kind of mother who dedicates herself to her children without martyring herself or losing herself.

I want to be the kind of mother who prays with my children and husband.

I want to be the kind of mother who protects and defends, but understands when it’s time to let my children stand up for themselves.

Most of all, I want to be a kind mother.

What kind of mother do you want to be?

She has discovered Facetime and Skype. She kept accidentally hanging up on us in her enthusiasm as she spent the night with Grandma. I die of cuteness.

I’m never really “wordless” when I do this. Sorry.

Around 8 o’clock last night I got a call. “Hi Amy, this is Dr. Whatshername with the results of your blood test.”

::pause::

Oh! An after-hours, at-home, blood work chat with the Doc, what could be bad about that?

::swallow::

“Hi, thanks for calling,” I said. After getting home from BlogHer ’12 I was in the bed for a big chunk of last week feeling all kinds of awful.

“Amy, you tested positive for Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever,” she said.

Die you dirty tick! DIE!

The Doctor wanted to check on how I was doing and if I was feeling better. Thankfully I got a round of antibiotics for what I thought was an ear infection the day I started feeling bad. Ha! I’m no M.D. but I’m quite certain Otitis Media does not include being unable to drag myself out of bed without having to go straight to the couch, vomiting, and other such digestive distresses. Turns out though, I had a mild case of RMSF thank goodness! I had no rash and avoided the super high fever. If I had not had those antibiotics I would still be really sick. I feel much better, now than last week. The doctor said if symptoms come back I may need another round of meds.

I’ve learned Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever is a very misnamed affliction. US Atlantic Coast states have the most cases in recent years, especially my home state, North Carolina. I was in the woods for a photo and video shoot for work.  Seven days later I knew something was wrong.

Morals of the story:
1. Check yourself for ticks! I did not see a tick, but obviously one got intimate with me.  The doctor said often times, people never knew they were bitten.

2. Get blood work done! Fortunately, Greyson made me make the Doctor take blood and run tests. Ask for the test for tick borne illnesses if you feel like you have the flu. Especially when it’s not flu season.

3. Check your little ones!  Kids get it a lot.