Quack This

Listorama

2012-01-31T03:59:00.000-06:00

I'm working on a little 300 piece puzzle of a wood fairy. And it's kicking my ass.
I opted not to condition my hair today because the humidity level in the house has been good the last couple of days. So of course it's dropped and I look uber-frizzy.
For the first time EVER both Moxxie AND Nugget went three days without peeing or pooping in the house.
They've more than made up for that today. I was fit to be tied.
Moxxie is a digger and since we're having super warm weather (was 58°F today) she's again tracking mud through the house. (the snow melted and turned the ground into pure black mud)
I've mopped my floors more today than I have in a month.
Of the three kids I helped make, only one kind of favors me. The other two started out looking just like my sister. Now they look a lot like Mike.
My glasses broke tonight.
Speaking of unexpected expenses, Ancestry.com hit us up for $77.70 because Babygirl and I both thought the two week free trial was a month's worth.
Ancestry.com, when I called them (in shock!), was kind enough to reverse the charges and cancel the subscription. All I had to do was ask. Once. That's customer service!
I've decided since I can eat some fish now, I want to branch out and try scallops.
I added some dried mushrooms to a creamy wild rice and mushroom soup tonight. The dried mushrooms were rubbery. I must have done it wrong.
Bear's FB avatar used to be a picture of a cat wearing a bag on it's head (cut out to look like a helm) while commanding a dog to "Bring me a shubbery". Still cracks me up to think about it.
I've been waiting for months now to play GuildWars because my son said he was going to get it and play with me. I'm ready to give up on him and reintroduce myself to my ranger.
Moxxie loves the hell out of Nugget and cries loudly when he isn't with her. Nugget loves to clean her ears and will sleep with her, but is cowed to her when she plays. Because she bites his fat rolls.
Also, she won't let him have toys or rawhides. I have to put him in my lap or beside me when he has one so she won't take it. It's become a huge problem. She's the sweetest bully you'll ever meet.
Used to Nugget would run down to the basement when he needed a break from Moxxie. She's now figured out how to get down there with him. He's not happy.
It's almost 4am and I haven't been to bed yet. My sleeping habits this year have been horrible.
What's worse, I'm not resting when I do sleep.
We switched to a cheaper brand of fish-oil pills a few months ago. I stopped taking them a week ago. Stomach pains (when I take my vitamins) have stopped. Completely. Go figure.
And speaking of 'teresa is stupid' I went six out of seven days (in one weeks time) with stomach cramps and the runs. The one day I didn't was the one day I didn't make coffee. It was day eight that my sinuses finally cleared and I smelled the HORRIBLY RANCID milk I'd been putting in my coffee. I knew it didn't taste right, but .......
Mike and Babygirl should be home some time this week. He has to deliver in MN by Friday so I'm assuming he'll come through the house. I can't wait! It's been far to quiet as she's been gone since Thursday? They left out (for a days trip that was blown out of the water once they were in Chicago) last Wednesday or Thursday. I forget. Feels like forever.
I'm going to bed. And without checking this post for errors. 'Cause that's how I roll these days.

Tuesday pictures

2012-01-27T01:03:00.001-06:00

I'm not much on cake or pie (or cookies and cupcakes for that matter) but I loves me some frosting! So Babygirl decorated a plate for me with homemade chocolate buttercream frosting.

She also shoveled the walk and steps so I wouldn't have to.

And if I do say so myself, looked awfully cute when she was done. (or maybe it was Monday this was taken? I don't remember. Been a week.)

Well slap me with a fish

2012-01-23T15:13:00.000-06:00

A year or so back I started introducing fish to our diets. I don't mean breaded fish sticks or fillets, or canned tuna. We already had those in our diets and after a lot of consideration, I decided to bump the pre-processed breaded stuff in favor of frozen unbreaded fillets. I went with Tilapia as I'd heard it has one of the least 'fishy' tastes out there. Years I've answered the question of 'why don't you like fish' with 'because it tastes like fish!'. Tilapia proved to be a good move in that it helped my taste buds transition to eating fish. Real fish.

Sometimes, though, I still shudder at even the idea that I eat fish now.

I've been proud of myself and my family for taking to the fish. Recently we've started eating cod fillets and I actually like them! Today I was reading blogs and came across something that I'd heard before but had misunderstood as to why. I found it very upsetting and it feels like a porcupine in my plans, full of sharp brills waiting to stick me when I least expect it.

Tilapia isn't so good for us after all.

That sucks.

Why, though? I mean, it's fish, right? It's not an absolute but many of the farms feed with corn instead of duckweed which means the ratio of the bad omega-6's to the good omega-3's are through the roof. Omega-6 fatty acids hurt the brain whereas omega-3 fatty acids help the brain. I want the omega-3 fatty acids and just assumed I was getting them in good supply by eating the Tilapia. Turns out I may not have been. It really takes a lot of work to find out where your food comes from, how it's grown or raised, what it's 'fed' when you think about your whole diet. I don't want to have to go chasing down the supply farm my fish comes from to be honest so I guess after we finish off what I already have, we won't be buying Tilapia anymore.

I do, however, need to look into what's good for us and make new purchasing decisions. Ugh. And I thought I had this bit all figured out. Oh wells.

Like a pin to a balloon

2012-01-19T14:10:00.000-06:00

Mike was in for maybe four hours last week, and most of that time he spent taking Wonderboy shopping for necessities for college. Babygirl went along as she loves shopping. I stayed home and washed Mike's clothes and made food for him to take out on the road. In short, I didn't see him much at all. He's on his way in now and I called to let him know we're in for a bit of weather, meaning snow, and ask when he thought he'd be here.

He hates snow. It's a hazard to him as he's on the road all the time and even if his truck isn't acting up on the snow, you never know how other drivers (cars and trucks) will react to the conditions. It's a real pain for him, and that's putting it extremely lightly. I wanted to give him the heads up so he'd be prepared. When I saw the forecast calling for 1-2" tonight and 2-4" tomorrow, I was excited. NOT for the snow, but because if we're in for bad weather it's a guarantee that Mike will come home. It's like Murphy's law in that he abhors it so of course that's what he'll get when he gets home. I was telling him that when I saw the weather I knew for sure he'd be coming in and I couldn't wait to see him. That's when he said,

'...if I could switch this load out with someone and head back south, I'd do it...'

Like a pin to a balloon, I tell ya.

I know him well enough to know that he didn't mean he doesn't want to see us, but still. It didn't feel good to hear it, even if I do understand what he meant or why he said it. 'Twas like a big vomit of BLARG all over my afternoon. I should add that he's sick, too. Could be an allergy thing as he went from Iowa to California to Texas in the last few days. Lots of different climates and that's going to take its toll from time to time.

Oh wells.

I'm going to boil my chicken today and get it deskinned and deboned so I can make broth from the bones and then make dumplings tomorrow. Hopefully that'll help him feel better. Thinking about making biscuits this afternoon so we can do sausage, egg and cheese biscuits for breakfast. That would be da bomb!

Did wonders for my ego, let me tell ya!

2012-01-17T02:01:00.001-06:00

Babygirl and I were watching an episode of The Pioneer Woman when she suddenly spoke up and said,

"If we had a nicer kitchen that would be you".

"What?", I asked.

"You could do a cooking show, Mom. People would love it."

"Thanks, but I don't think so."

She went on to explain that people back home (mostly family) want to come to Iowa just to eat my cooking again and some of her friends want to come over for the same reason. She thinks everyone loves my cooking. I can't tell you what that did for my ego once I stopped putting myself down in my head, that is. If you compliment me I immediately access a list that's PLUM FULL of embarrassing or not so nice moments to counter it. Sometimes out loud, always in my head. I've been told a thousand times I need to learn to take a compliment. I suppose that's sage advice, but it's a hard one to swallow, too.

Still, I wanted to go immediately start slowing cooking a roast. I won't lie. It made me feel good. Especially since it'd only been a couple of hours since she was screaming at me for being such a horrible person. Such is life with a teenager sometimes. I'm so glad I waited to start the show so I could see if she wanted to watch with me. We needed a bit of bonding! We also watched Undercover Boss and I saw her leaning in to see if I was crying when the boss was talking with his employees and granting crazy dreams for them. I was. I wonder sometimes if she looks to me for cues in that department?

Anyway, I'm going to thaw out a chicken and make my homemade chicken and dumplings this week. I've never had anyone not like it and even had a couple folks sing while eating it, about how good it is. Ok, so both were kids but one (Speedy) is super picky so it felt like a home run for me. Gonna hit it out of the park this week with my dumplings!

Second one to fly

2012-01-13T15:07:00.000-06:00

I remember reading and hearing about so-and-so going through some sort of crisis due to empty nest syndrome and wondering, why? Aren't we raising our kids so they can go forth and fly? If that's out goal, what's with this 'syndrome' thing? I think when your identity is so dependent on being 'mom' that when it's time for your kids to leave home, it really can through you into some sort of identity crisis. Of sorts.

We do it in a gradual way. We bought a house four houses up and Bear and Blade moved in there not long afterwards, when they were both 18 and over. Blade moved back home when Bear moved Pear in there with him. Once Bear and Pear went to college Blade moved in the other house again, this time with Wonderboy. That was about 15 months ago and hardly a day goes by that Wonderboy isn't here playing video games, scrounging through the fridge, washing clothes, playing guitar, ... There have been times I've had to ask him to go home so I could go to bed at night. He's here a LOT.

Today Bear is coming to pick him up because he starts classes Monday at the same college Bear and Pear go to. I've worried myself sick about what kind of trouble Wonderboy could get into at the college and how I won't be there to stay on top of him, letting him know it's not ok and I'm fully aware. He narrowly missed having to serve 10 days in jail, somehow pulling a rabbit out of his seemingly inexhaustible hat of tricks and working out a deal with the Judge to give him one more chance to satisfy the terms of his probation. I'm worried that his "hat" will run out of luck at some point and that scares me. I'm also a tad worried about how he'll manage without being around us. He'll have Bear there this semester but so far, every time he's 'left home' he's come back shortly afterwards. The longest he's been away was when he went to boot camp. He came home a few weeks later ... just couldn't handle not being home and found a way to get himself medically discharged. I'm hoping that having his big brother around will help him transition into living away from home and he won't have to go to any great and/or damaging lengths to get back home again.

And I'll miss him. The boy flat drives me crazy most of the time. He's a thousand questions rolled into one challenging ball that hits you with the force of a small tornado. He has unrealistic expectations of how he fits into the world. He's young, after all. He's absolutely sure his way is the only way. For everyone. Saying that's annoying is an understatement. But it makes me laugh sometimes, too. He's great with one-liners and goofy jokes, loves a good prank. The boy is funny. Can't deny that. And I have to admit that as brash and self-serving as he is, he does care about others. Doesn't always show but he does.

He was glued to my side for years to the point I couldn't use the bathroom or even sleep without him being on me. He's the only of our four to sleep with us. It started once he could free himself from his crib and of his own doing. I don't agree with co-sleeping. At all. But I did it, every single night, with Wonderboy. Even when I'd carry my sleeping bundle back to his crib we'd wake up, sure as fire, to him between us in the morning. I remember when a new shrink was trying to get him to open up. The Doctor tried to goad him into it by suggesting something about me that wasn't flattering. Worked like a charm as Wonderboy jumped out of his seat and, very animatedly, leapt to my defense, going off on the Doc for even suggesting anything bad of me. It made the Doctor chuckle and surprised the crap out of me because, at that point, I'd have sworn on a stack of Bibles that the boy hated the very ground I walked on.

Full of surprises, that's a good way to describe him.

He's cost me countless nights of sleep, given me more headaches than the rest of my brood combined and sometimes has made me wish he'd move out on his own away from us just so he can start growing up. But I'm going to miss seeing him every day. Terribly so. I haven't slept much this year. At all. There have been several nights I couldn't sleep a wink. I've run myself down to the point I've wondered if I was going crazy. It finally dawned on me last night that I'm just worried about him moving an hour away. I'm already missing him. I don't know what the future holds for him nor do I know if he's really ready to meet it head on. I've literally worried myself sick (feels like my throat is full of nasty big shards of glass and my head is KILLING me). Blade is still four houses away and Babygirl is just 14. So it's not like all of my kids have left the nest but, as I did when Bear moved away, I think I feel like there is a chip in the word "Mom". Another piece of it flying off into the winds of the unknown. Ironic to feel sad when this is what my goal has been all along ... to raise them and let them fly. So why, when it's time to fly, do I want to clip their wings for awhile longer?

Dunno. But I sorta do. It's exciting to think he's starting college, true enough. But I'm going to miss him just as much as I'm looking forward to him going. Special kind of crazy and all that.

Connection interrupted

2012-01-10T07:24:00.000-06:00

Let's be real. I want to more than anything. It drives me. It shapes me, always has. But what happens when you wake up one day and, suddenly, you don't know what 'real' is anymore? That is exactly where I am. I don't know what's real. I don't know who am I. It's like the identity that was mine and mine only doesn't exist in the realm of anything I can see or interpret.

I'm a wife and mother. A blogger. A gamer. I cry at hokey stuff. I feel pain that doesn't belong to me and I feel it deeply sometimes. I carry guilt on my shoulders. I laugh at funny stuff and other stuff I shouldn't. I'm a thinker. A fixer. I make mountains out of molehills and obliterate things I shouldn't stick my nose in. Sometimes I sense things before they happen. I dream, vividly and in strange detail. I make people laugh, even when I don't want to. I'm a story teller. I'm too honest. I'm a liar. I'm lazy. I'm obsessive. I believe there's good in most everyone. I believe we have totally and completely misinterpreted time. I'm a cook. A reader. I love to sing. I'm a Trekkie.

But two days ago I realized none of that defines me. It doesn't even make a lot of sense to me anymore. In short, I don't know me anymore. I feel like life has passed me by, that I missed doing what I was supposed to do. I feel the edges of panic trying to creep in and I'm not sure why it's there, yet I know exactly why it's there. I feel alone. Like I'm observing life rather than living it. I don't feel like I belong anywhere anymore. Like no one wants me to belong to them anymore. I feel like I missed something and I can't put my finger on it other than to say, I feel like somewhere along the way, I missed 'me'. Like, I'm a not who I thought I was, would be, should be, could be, ....

I started having this recurring dream when I was seven years old. I'm sitting on a mountain cliff that's so high you can see miles and miles of forever. A man is sitting beside me and we're just looking at the view. We never speak, we're just sitting there, indian style, beside each other, looking at forever. I know he's there to protect me and that comforts me. We have a connection and it feels like a connection that has stood the test of time and will continue to do so. Forever. Dreaming of him sitting beside me gives me the same feeling I get when I see Orion in the sky. Makes me feel like everything is going to be ok.

I started thinking about that dream the other day. It's been a good while since I had it. I realized I don't just want to have it again, I want to finally sit down and write the story. I don't know where to start, though. And who the hell would believe it? When I told Mike about it and who the guy in the dream is, he thought I was crazy. I didn't realize this guy was a 'real guy' until I was almost 20 years old. It shook me to the core when I saw that he was a real honest to goodness person. He said it's flat impossible that I've been dreaming about this guy since I was seven. So how could I possible share this story that's formed about this dream and do it justice when people think I'm crazy for having dreamed this in the first place. IF I dreamed it, they say.

That got me to wondering why I've been dreaming this dream most of my life. It's about being connected. About being connected so deeply, so strongly, nothing can ever break it. I never had that connection with my parents. I think that's partly why I have a problem accepting that people could like me. Love me. Dunno. It's a defense. The irony is that what I crave most I keep at arms length. It's defensive. I can think back to so many points in my life where it didn't matter if I had a connection to someone or not because I was sure in who I was.

Now I'm not. I don't know me. I'm not sure about much of anything right now. Past a wife and mother, I don't know. I don't feel likable. I don't feel worth much of anything. If anything. I couldn't even fill in the profile questions again (on blogger) because I didn't know how to answer the questions. Who am I? What am I? Why am I? What am I good at? What have I ever done worth telling anyone? What have I done that could make someone proud to know me? Babygirl dealt the most crushing blow today. She was in a 'mad at the world' mood and told me that I didn't work so Mike was stuck driving his truck and couldn't come home and get a normal job. I felt that punch my stomach flat. When I repeated it back to her she balked and said she never said that.

But, she did.

Mike's said it, too. He's been on the road for 16 years and as much as I want him home every single night, the thought scares me at the same time. It's not something I'm used to. I'm a change chicken. I was looking through online 'work at home' jobs for a couple hours earlier and I couldn't help but feel like I'm less than a somebody. Because I don't know me anymore. I don't know what I'm good at. What I can do. I don't feel useful. I don't feel I have a use. Everyone puts up with me when they have to. They don't want to hear what I think. They brush me off and walk away when they can. I'm about to flip to 41 and I feel like my life has been a waste because I missed something. I don't know what that something is and that makes it feel heavier.

I thought I was supposed to help people. I'm not very good at that, though. I'm old enough to recognize that all those dreams I had of saving all the abused children in the world, the dreams that kept me going when I was a teenager, were really more about me wanting to be saved. Wishing someone had been there to save me. I never started any out reach programs. I never made a safe place where kids could just be kids. I never became that social worker. That's who I thought I was going to be. Back then I didn't want to have kids of my own because I didn't believe in family. I was afraid I'd fail at being a mother. Now I look back and see so many things I got wrong. One of the smartest people I've ever met is a high school drop out. I never stopped him from dropping out. I tried, but I never got it right. Another son is fixing to go back to jail for 10 days for breaking the terms of his probation. I have a kid on probation! Certainly didn't get that right. Another has a baby on the way and his girlfriend doesn't see them as enough of a couple to move a couple hours away with him so he can finish college and have his new family by his side. And even though he's not ok with this, he isn't going to push it. How did I get THAT wrong? My daughter feels that she can't be her 'real' self unless she's alone in her room. What?

So yeah. I didn't do the mother thing so good afterall. And my husband doesn't feel like I care about our family enough. I feel like I'm living in a nightmare and it's not going to stop because I don't know where to find me so I can get myself out of it. If that makes sense.

I've tried telling myself this, this loss of identity, is part of some sort of weird empty nest syndrome. I know it'll pass. I just want it to pass right this second. I'm shocked at how sudden it came on. Takes a special kind of crazy, no? I just want to feel connected again. To something. Someone.

To me.

The duck is back!

2012-01-08T22:03:00.003-06:00

Well, I don't actually use the duck anymore but that's beside the point. I imported both Cap'n Condi and Ranni Rambles here so I'd have all six years of blogging in one place. Then I figured 'what the hell, let's republish'. Opening the posts here on Quack This again doesn't scare me. It's actually feels good. Like, I don't have to hide anymore. If my mom finds this blog again, well, she just will. Never wrote anything to hurt her but I didn't write anything that wasn't true. So there.

Pictures were lost on the import so there's a lot of 'missing image' blocks. Will try and re-upload what I can. I had to use a converter to get the posts from Ranni Rambles, (exported it from Wordpress), over here. Guessing that's why the pictures didn't come with it? Dunno. Anyway, until (and IF) I replace the images, sorry for the missing pictures. Just glad to have everything back under one roof. I never really liked blogging anywhere but Quack This so it feels nice to be back here. I recently tried to go blog-less and, well, that just isn't working. Whether anyone sees it or not, I have to talk to the void. My sanity depends on it.

Toodles.

Oh, and there are probably still some double posts. When I orignally made Quack This private, I exported the posts (lost ALL my comments! Serious sad face!) and then, months later, reimported them. It hiccuped and did a double import. I've tried to weed out a lot of the double posts but, well, there may be some still.

I need to find the duck!

Need a new holiday plan

2011-12-29T07:03:00.000-06:00

I wrapped the hooks on our Christmas tree ornaments around the branches so well that not a single one ever fell off, no matter how many times Ghost and Croaker chased each other around the tree while inside the tree. Score one for Teresa! The downside to this will hit when taking the tree down. It's a pain to remove them all! Usually Mike and the kids take the tree down but I have a feeling it's going to be me this year. Not looking forward to that.

I'm not sure what to make of our Christmas yet. Last night, when thinking about it, I was close to tears just from looking at all the work that went into it and putting that against how everyone enjoyed it. I worked so hard getting decorations out to make the place look festive ... but no one seemed to care. Or really notice. Oh, well, Wonderboy noticed. He did our before meal 'prayer' one night and made me the laughing stock for having so many Santas. He questioned whether Christmas was about Jesus or the jolly fat man. I see his point but it was hurtful at the same time. I wish he'd just talked to me about it rather than putting me down so badly during his 'prayer'. It's the first time I've ever interrupted the kids while they were praying to tell them to stop. Every meal after that we had together, when it was time to do the prayer, no one wanted him to do it. A fact that he had to point out as though we were offending him. Figures.

Then there's the actual holiday meals.

I told Mike last night that I need to radically redo my holiday dinner as no one seemed to give a damn. That's not quite right, though. It was like it was completely expected and not appreciated. Does that sound right? The corn and wild rice casserole I made, this year I did a triple batch as a single one last year wasn't enough. Everyone loved it so much there were no leftovers and we all wanted more. This year a couple got on to me for fixing something no one but me would like. I had to ask Bear several times to try it and when he did, he enjoyed it. Couldn't really get anyone else, too. Weird given how well it went over last year. Wonderboy is forever bringing up inappropriate conversation topics while we're eating. This year he outdid himself. I wonder if that's part of the reason no one ate much. Why he thinks we want to talk about his bum while we're eating I don't know. It felt like everyone wanted to hurry up and leave the table rather than enjoy the meal and each other's company. Course, the actual Christmas dinner went without Blade and Wonderboy as Wonderboy pulled that 'eye for an eye' crap.

Then there was Mike's birthday dinner. Bear, for some strange reason, decided to use that time to tell Blade that if he's really a vegetarian he shouldn't eat banana pudding. When Blade asked why Bear decided to go all cloak and shadows on him as though he couldn't bring himself to tell him what's in the pudding. Blade has always loved banana pudding but, sure enough, he wouldn't touch the stuff. I don't know why Bear did that and I don't know why he found it so funny. I found it to be mean. Especially when I work my damn ass off so freaking hard to take each of my family's diet notions into consideration when planning a meal for us. One stupid little joke and Blade was left questioning everything. Thanks so much, Bear.

The gifts we received ok by most but Wonderboy was just down right ugly about his stocking stuffers and gifts. I get that he didn't get what he'd wanted. But, damn. What a smack in the face. I feel like I'm whining. No, I know I'm whining and I should just get over myself. But. I worked so hard to try and make this a nice Christmas and it just fell so flat. And off. I want a redo but I'm afraid the same stuff would happen all over again. Once was enough.

And damn if the kids didn't spend most of their time yelling at Moxxie. She turned 4 months old on Christmas day. She's in her terrible 2s but all she wanted was attention. They tried to ignore her and kept pushing her off for the most part. I will say this. When she wants to be rubbed she'll gnaw on your hand. That's annoying. I get that. But if they'd just taken a few to rub her she would have settled down. Pear was quick to realize that rubbing her belly stops her from doing ANYTHING but laying on her back, totally relaxed. The boys, even though I'd told them this repeatedly, don't get it. They'd rather bark orders and demand that she do exactly what they say. And another thing. When more than one person gets on to a dog at the same time, it flat freaking confuses them. She listens to me most of the time. I'd say about 90% of the time if I call her name with a certain tone in my voice, she immediately sits and waits for a minute for me to rub her head. (I don't do it immediately) The rest of the time if I say 'wanna go crate?' it stops her. I know you shouldn't crate for punishment, I really do. I did it one day when her and Nugget were fighting. She'd started it and I put her in a 10 minute time out in her crate. I felt so horrible but at the time she wouldn't listen to me at all. So now if I ask 'wanna go crate?' with that tone in my voice, she lays down where she is and waits until I've turned my back to get back up. Almost every time. Mean, yes. But holy cow it works.

When all else fails, if it's during the day time, I get Babygirl to take her for a walk when she won't stop with the hyper 'bark/bite' thing.

Anyway, I feel like Christmas was a big bust and I need to rethink how we do things. Clueless at the moment but hoping with a year to plan, I can work something out.

We're so entitled it makes me sick

2011-12-28T21:58:00.000-06:00

Saw a headline on CNN that said 'breastfeeding moms were mad at Target'.

/sigh

You know, what gets me the most about this is having to bow down to what 'you' want because 'you' deserve extra this or that. I'm so tired of it. I'm certainly not against breastfeeding but I am against doing it in public places. I think it's tacky. When I fed my babies in public it was because I'd taken the time to prepare a bottle ahead of time so if they were hungry, I'd be ready. Why can't breastfeeding moms do the same thing? Use a pump. It's not rocket science. In this video story the woman who'd been asked to move to a fitting room went on Facebook about what happened and, as a result, a group of breastfeeding moms took to Target to voice their displeasure over the situation.

I find it mind boggling.

And it makes me angry that they, like so many other groups, are trying to force what they want down everyone elses throats because the rest of 'us' (that's a general 'us') don't matter. Since when does diversity exclude tolerance? (sounds hypocritical, doesn't it? I know.) I feel the same way about the womens groups vying for 'equality'. We're not equal to men in a lot of areas. That's what makes us unique. By the same token, men aren't equal to us on a lot of fronts. I do not understand why we need anyone to declare us 'equal'. It's our differences that make us great. I do think that as people we're all the same, equal, whatever you want to call it. But there's a line between the sexes and it's there for a reason. We're not the same. Some of the race fights, no different. As people we're equal but as a race? Again, it's our differences that make us great.

I'm rambling. Because I'm tired.

I think the more we strive to point out what we deserve or what makes us better the more we blur the line of tolerance. And we're close to blurring it flat out of existence. You want equal rights to feed your child in public then do what we do. Make a bottle in advance. It's not hard.

Christmas

2011-12-25T18:42:00.000-06:00

We had a small Christmas in terms of gifts for the kids compared to years past. But we did the best we could and that's what counts. Or so I thought. I had one kid who ripped on me for his getting socks (was a goof as they were actually meant for another kid), his stocking stuffers (were dumb) and something else I got wrong. OH! All the kids got Snuggies this year. Bear's and Pear's were matching solid color ones and the other three were cute designs with pockets. He put the Snuggie and my getting them down something fierce. Then he put it on and went fast to sleep, sleeping for a couple of hours. I took pictures.

Ha.

We had Christmas dinner at 6pm on Christmas day. I waited until the last possible moment to get started (it's like punishment y'all. Don't do that! Torture may be more apt!) and worked my tail off getting it done. Mike hates the production. He would prefer I do small dinners so I don't spend days in the kitchen. He's just happy when we're all around the table eating together. I feel like holiday meals are a 'gift' of meals put together from foods and dishes we don't normally eat. A treat gift. It's a labor of love for me. I love to do it for them just as much as I love to bitch about it. I do agree, however, with Mike. What makes the meal is everyone together. The kids know this as I go to great lengths to make sure everyone's schedule syncs up for dinner time. So this next bit nearly ruined Christmas for us. I think it did for Mike.

Wonderboy wanted to use the truck to go see his girlfriend for Christmas. He asked Mike, not me. Mike told him that he knew I wouldn't even consider allowing that if he didn't tell me what really happened to the truck. So in comes Wonderboy with a new story about what did the damage to the truck. It was another load of bull and I called him on it. Long story short, he went off on and then him and Mike got into it. He stormed out of the house and once home, sent me a text that said this:

"an eye for an eye. ruin plans I had before you even decided dinner was on christmas day and ill do it back. cause im not wakin up matt either. all i needed was the truck for a few hours and dad told me if i told you what actually happened, which i did, then youd let me use the truck. it was a flatbed. not a trailer. they're very different"

(in his new story he claims he clipped the end of a flatbed as it was going down the road. that doesn't explain the dents and broken stuff under the bed of the truck so I'm still not buying it)

I never responded to his text. His 'eye for an eye' thing was childish and I wasn't going to go down to that level. We already knew Blade was asleep as he'd been up all night and day. We even made him a plate and set it aside. I guess Wonderboy thought that was going to make me go into an ugly cry, beg him to come over and throw him the keys while cleaning his feet with my hair? Not playing that game. Mike was already feeling poorly but after that text, he looked down right sick. He's gotten a hell of a lot more than an earful from Wonderboy and he's just not used to getting this kind of treatment from his own children. I think it really got to him, so much so he went to bed way early tonight. Wonderboy wouldn't come over to eat and I didn't extend the invitation more than once (this was prior to him storming out). He did finally come over after we'd already put all the food up. I was cleaning up in the kitchen and he was standing there talking about how hungry he was. I didn't offer anything. Felt like a heel but he had his chance to eat with us. Am I horrible for that?

He did grab a biscuit before leaving to go to his friends, though.

On a brighter note, here's a picture of Babygirl from today.

She's holding up her Frodo 'doll'. (Frodo of Lord of the Rings) I had a lot of points built up with ThingGeek and quite a bit of their Christmas this year was gotten with my points. Matter of fact, thinkgeek.com and woot.com was where almost all their presents came from. Anyway, back to Frodo. She asked me why I'd gotten her a Frodo as she pretended to fight me with his little sword. She was having fun and loved him! I told her he was a hero (I mean, you know, he saved Middle Earth and all) and that he was cute. She immediately started flying him through the air, using her finger to make his cape flap in the wind ... I told her that he wasn't a SUPER hero, that he'd saved Middle Earth! So she engaged his turbo thrusters and flew him to the kitchen. She's such a dork.

Outside of Wonderboy, the kids seemed to enjoy their gifts. Wonderboy did enjoy his guitar, immensely. I just wish he wasn't as forthcoming with his opinions sometimes. As for the temper tantrum he threw, holy cow. I hate seeing how this is getting to Mike. He doesn't deserve this. His birthday is coming up this week so we're doing his dinner on Tuesday. I hope that one goes off without a hitch. If Wonderboy ruins Mike's dinner, I don't think I'll be able to hold my temper anymore. I've been calm up to now but he's jumping hard on that switch and I'm this close <> to telling him he needs to just not come back around for any reason until he can improve that 'tude of his. So don't want to do that, though. Would kill me.

Merry Christmas, guys!

2011-12-21T16:34:00.000-06:00

I don't think I'll be posting again before Christmas so I wanted to wish everyone a great holiday filled with family, friends, awesome food, warmth and peace. Whatever you celebrate I hope it brings you joy and enough wonderful memories to last a thousand lifetimes!

'Til next time,

Ranni (teresa)

Silverado pictures

2011-12-19T07:13:00.000-06:00

[caption id="attachment_1462" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="The "dent" in the fender."][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1463" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Where the side mirror used to be"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_1464" align="aligncenter" width="169" caption="He called this a crack."][/caption]

These are pictures of the truck I mentioned a couple posts ago. Wish we knew what really happened. And hoping like hell we don't get a phone call or demand for damages to someone's property. We own the truck so I'm assuming we'd be responsible?

Wow, a good nights sleep can make all the difference, no?

2011-12-19T03:51:00.000-06:00

Although it's super whiny and ranty and you should totally ignore the post before this one, I'm leaving it up just because. I woke up this morning feeling SO much better it's almost funny. Guess I just needed to get some things off my chest. Busy day as I've got to get my grocery list made and then go shopping (I'm still not happy about that. AT all) but it feels doable. I remembered last night, as soon as I hit publish on that long awful post, that I'd posted a year or so back about how I had to stop letting the issues with Wonderboy overshadow my daughter and life in general. While that's a lot easier said than done, I need to get back to doing just that. I keep telling Bear that he has to stop worrying about things that are out of his control. Wonderboy falls in that category for me. He's an adult and it's his life.

Anyway, holy COW I feel so much better this morning.

I honestly don't know what to say

2011-12-18T18:49:00.000-06:00

For a title. Plenty to say for this post.

Straight up, I didn't want Mike to buy Wonderboy another vehicle. He totalled my Tahoe. He ran the Jeep with no oil to the point it blew the engine after spending a whole summer replacing the engine in it that Bear ran with no oil until the engine blew. I figure we get you a vehicle and you tear it up, the next one's on you. Mike wanted a truck, though, and bought one from his boss. We're still paying on it every paycheck. Wonderboy's been driving it this whole time. Slick, no?

Wonderboy called Mike when he got up Saturday morning to tell him that a piece of metal flew off a pickup truck and dented the fender, cracked the windshield and tore the driver's side-view mirror off the truck. When Mike called me to tell me what happened, my first reaction was 'Wonderboy's lying'. When it's a big one, he always goes through Mike first. I think he figures if he can convince Mike then Mike will tell me and I'll have no choice but to believe it because my husband said it's so. I called Wonderboy but he didn't answer. He did, however, send me a text reply to the call saying he was ordering a new mirror and then was going to chill with his friends. He has no money and I'm not stupid. I told him that no, he wasn't going to chill with his friends, that I wanted to see the truck now. He said ok. He was 10 minutes away. An hour later I sent him another text. Then another. Not quite two hours later I get a call from Mike saying Wonderboy wants me to chill out. If you've read me for any length of time I'm sure this next bit won't surprise you.

I. Was. Pissed!

He finally brings the truck home and he and I went out to look at it. I told him it looked like he hit something. The dent in the fender? That was the impact 'dent'. There's no fixing that and let me tell you, Mike can fix *anything*!! I've seen him pull dents out so that you couldn't tell it'd been dented. Crazy dents. This 'dent' smashed the fender in and curled it up. Removed a lot of paint, too. The crack in the windshield? Wonderboy had told Mike that it wasn't a big deal since there was already a crack in it. This 'crack' is full of shattered glass that hasn't fallen out yet. I will have to get a picture and post it so you can see what I'm talking about. The windshield will have to be replaced now. Come January/February when this part of Iowa dips to arctic temperatures, it's going to explode (slightly dramatic word there) when the sub-zero temps hit it. The side-view mirror? Yep. Ripped plum off the truck, assembly and all. You can see the frame where it was mounted to.

He wouldn't budge from his story no matter what I said. Oh, his story. I'll relay it here. He was driving on the two lane highway towards our town. In the oncoming lane going away from our town was a pickup truck that was overloaded with scrap metal. A piece of metal came off the truck and hit our truck. Originally he said he hadn't yet passed the truck, that he was looking at the trucks headlights when it happened. I called bull on that as it kind of defies the laws of motion/physics. Especially since the pickup never stopped, was in constant motion. This happened at 2am but he has no clue where he was on the highway. It's an eight mile stretch but there are side roads, farms, signs, more than a few 'place-holders'. When I told him nothing came off the back of that truck and travelled through the air forward to hit our truck, Wonderboy said there was a grate up at the back of the bed to keep anything from falling off, so the metal had no choice but to fly forward.

Today he changed his story and said he was passing or was just passed the truck when it happened.

He also said he never stopped. Today he said he did but I think that's because when he said he looked for the mirror, I asked him how he managed that since he A) never stopped and B) had no idea where it happened. So today he stopped when it happened. Whatever hit the truck left bits of concrete in the 'dent' and the windshield. Wonderboy couldn't explain that and, didn't try. He got mad at me for questioning his story and then, to make it even better, got angry because I won't let him drive the gas he put in the truck out. (warning, I'm about to unload) Forget the fact that I've filled that damn tank up so many times I've lost count. Forget the fact that he wrecked the truck and then waited at least eight hours before calling to let us know. Forget that fact that he wrecked the truck and then went to 'chill' with his friends. Forget the fact that he's been caught pulling money out of my bank account and making purchases with my bank card all without my knowledge. Forget that even though he's been caught red-handed, he's lying about it. He stole the rings Mike had from his dad. When his dad died earlier this year, the consulate sent Mike his dad's belongings. They were a broken watch, two wedding bands and his college ring. The rings are fucking gone and Wonderboy is suddenly expecting a big check, supposedly from a farmer he hasn't worked for in two months! Mike said the college ring alone was worth $300-500. Depending I guess.

And let's just forget that we have to replace a fucking windshield, fender and mirror. That damn $10 worth of gas his friend gave him is FAR more important!

He really expected me to give the keys back to him! He was so uber ugly and angry I told him to go home. If he hadn't, I knew I was fixing to blow completely up right in his face. Spit and all. I was so mad! And there's more. He got a careless and reckless ticket back in August. Never went to court, never paid it, nothing. I didn't know about this until last week when they sent a mail saying his license is going to be indefinitely suspended come January. He told me he'd never gotten a ticket and he didn't care. I even went as far as to offer to help him pay it if he'd just tell me what the ticket was for. I had to go online and search court records to find out. I'll stop with it here as I don't know if I want to be angry or cry again.

That's what I've been doing this evening. Crying. Cause I'm stupid and weak and I'm worried for him. He's been getting high again. He says he hasn't but he's been more 'empty/emotionless' the last couple of weeks than not. He's also been doing that violent puking thing again. He's been hanging with old and a couple new friends and they've been carting him around the last couple of weeks. Guessing there's free whatever at his friends apartment? My heart feels like the windshield looks. I don't know why he steals from us so much. I'm shocked that he wrecked the truck and then acted like he was the victim. He flat doesn't care that he's wrecked the truck and won't tell us what really happened. I said up there I'd stop, didn't I? I lied. Deal with it.

This has been such a crazy weekend. I got some news that, in the long run, is going to work out to be a good thing but it jolted my hearts to a thousand bits with the woulda couldas. We're refinancing our house and some guy is coming tomorrow morning to do a walk through for the bank and my house is nowhere near ready for some stranger to come and check it out. I was super sick last week (like, crazy OMG sick) and although it's passed, I still feel drained. Like I've got thick sludge running through me. I haven't made my Christmas dinner grocery list. Hell, I don't even have any milk in the house and I'm scraping the bottom of the pet food bins. Mike didn't have time to do any shopping so I have to go. I can't tell you how badly I hate shopping. With a fiery purple passion. We've just bought new carpet for our NC house and built a new porch/deck on it so this monster grocery bill is going to have to go on credit. I can't send Wonderboy with my credit card. That's too dangerous. And damn if I didn't slam my bad knee into the kitchen doorway again this weekend. It's still rather painful from that fall a couple of weeks ago.

Sometimes, it's just too much.

Seeing just how ugly my own son can get with us with his disrespect and his attitude, when he's SO FUCKING IN THE WRONG! And he doesn't give a damn because now he's out $10 of gas! Omg. I'm so stressed I'm afraid that all this extra vitamin D isn't going to work to thwart off another armpit explosion. I can already feel the pinch from the gland swelling.

Anyway, I'm a big old whiny-baby, aren't I? Said earlier I was going to force myself into the Christmas spirit tomorrow. That may have to wait until Tuesday. I don't even want my tree up anymore right now.

/crybaby out

One last sleep

2011-12-16T17:22:00.000-06:00

One last night to enjoy the peace. The quiet. The solitude. The solemnness. The emptiness. The loneliness. The knowing that I'm ALL ALONE (outside of a few pets who shall remain nameless interrupters of the dead quiet of 3am) (looking at you Moxxie, Moe, Croaker, Hisser, Ghost and Screech!) in this big ole house. I hates it. When I call them they're too busy to talk and sometimes so busy I feel like a bother. When we do get to talk they're so one-track-minded, that one track full of news and stuff from back home, that when I'm talking they cut me off and never seem to notice.

Won't lie. That sucks.

Wonderboy has taken to chilling with a few friends in the next town over for the last week or two. He did come by one day to wash clothes. He even mopped my dining room for me. Then he was gone. Not even the lure of a freshly baked pizza from Casey's could bring him back. So I had frozen egg rolls for dinner after thinking about that pizza all day. (He'd said he was coming home this afternoon so I figured I'd buy us a pizza. Oh wells.)

When Mike gets in tomorrow night he'll sleep and then head back out Sunday morning? Not sure if it's morning or afternoon but if it's afternoon, he's already got a list of what he wants to do while here. I was hoping he'd be here for a day or so so I could actually spend time with him. Sucks much. At least Babygirl will be here, though, she's so caught up with talking to her boyfriend I haven't factored hardly at ALL the last couple of weeks.

Wanna hear how mean I am? Mike's sister and her kids were planning on coming in for Christmas. I'd prefer a visit like that be over Thanksgiving but that's just me. Anyway, he asked if that was ok. Surely he knew I couldn't say no to him ... I told him, though, that if she corrected me even one time I'd snap on her ass and ruin everyone's day. I meant it, too. She's a very sweet person but ... she knows it all and she's done it all. Best. She has no qualms whatsoever pointing out the error of my ways. It's almost as maddening as when Mike's dad would rearrange my kitchen cabinets overnight. Come to think of it, both her and their dad felt it was their duty to correct you. Anyway, I don't think she means any harm but I don't think I could take it. Even once. Gracious hostess I am not. Plans have changed now and they aren't coming. Probably a good thing. Teresa is way too stressed, really.

Speaking of mean, the cats and I have waged war. Sorta. They've (again!!!) decided they don't like their cat food and I've (again!!!) decided they'll eat it if they're hungry enough. Moe is getting to me, however. I think he's thinking he's human now and will come talk to me. In one syllable 'meows' until he realizes it's not that I don't hear him more than it's that I'm ignoring them. Then he won't freaking shut UP! As soon as I look towards him he takes off running to his food bowl, as if he's communicated his desire for a new cat food to mysterious appear and fill up his bowl and the doofus actually thinks I'm going to make that happen. If I said that right. When it doesn't happen, he comes to talk to me again. (ARG) We've been doing this for a week straight now and it's right gotten on my last nerve. They'll eat their food but not after trying to guilt me into a trip to Wal-Mart to buy different food. And they have stamina like I've never seen. The guilt trips last HOURS! I asked them yesterday if they could just all do it at the same time, like when Moe's working his. They didn't listen.

I might feel sorry for them enough to mix a little tinned food with their kibble if they didn't line up to mark the litter box every SINGLE day as I'm cleaning it.

And then there's Moxxie. O. M. G. If a pillow has a zipper on it, she unzips it and then starts removing the stuffing by the mouthful. I suppose I should be glad she's not just eating the pillows like Bella did, but seriously. STOP THAT! When I realized she knew how to work a zipper I thought (out loud, cause I'm dumb) 'omg that's freaking cool!'. Just smack me. Really. This evening Nugget broke bad on her in a way that made the hair on my spine stand up. And it hit my gut it was so vicious. All because he wanted to be the one to eat baby Jesus. Not kidding. Moxxie grabbed the little baby Jesus from the coffee table and started to chew on it. He. Went. Off! Like a maddog! He scared her and she dropped it. He grabbed it and ran to a corner and would break bad on her when she approached. He bit me when I took it from him, too. He's four years old and I've never heard him go off on anything like that before. Dumb dog.

Something tells me his belief system does not include praising Jesus. In the slightest.

Oh, a couple of twitter buddies have a baby girl who broke their xbox360 disk tray tonight. Reminded me of the time Bear fed the VCR peanut butter toast and a spoon (because of course the VCR would want to eat the toast with a spoon) and then a VCR tape and left us without the ability to watch any of our movies for a few weeks. Had to laugh at the memory but figured I should refrain from posting it. They probably wouldn't find it funny right about now. I miss those times. Always a house full. Never thought I'd say I miss a house full as they used to just drive me crazy all the time!

One more sleep and I'll be a different kind of crazy again. Woot!

Random stuff

2011-12-14T20:51:00.000-06:00

As in, there's no tie ins other than things that have caught my attention or a thing I just want to blog about. Capish?

I've been listening to Celine Dion's cover of "The first time ever I saw your face" repeatedly because, for some reason, it calms the dogs down. Woot! After listening to it for like the 88th time, I clicked over to Roberta Flack's version. I was halfway through the song when it suddenly hit me what the comment, "HOLY EAR MUFFS" meant. Ruined it for me as I nearly went into the ugly face giggles. That was almost an hour ago and I'm still kind of giggling when I think about it.

And on Celine, the control she has over her voice ... HOLY WOW! Listening to this song makes me want to cry because it's so incredibly beautiful.

Survivor this week made me hoop and holler! Way to go Coach! Brandon grew on me some but when he told Albert he would give him the immunity necklace, I grinned a stupidly big grin, crossed my fingers and started chanting. Best I recall, we've only seen this happen before once where someone gave up the necklace and then got themselves booted off. Double WOOT! I've been waiting for him to be sent to Redemption Island. Speaking of, if Edna had beaten Ozzie, I'm not sure what I would have thought. I want Coach to win this season with Ozzie sitting right beside him. I like Ozzie, but I like Coach more!

Actually I wanted a final three of Coach, Cochran and Ozzie. Oh well.

And speaking of Survivor, I watched the Ponderosa episodes where Cochran went to Ponderosa last week. HOLY CHILDISH SHIT! Could they have treated him any worse? And, if they'd been given the opportunity that he was, one they helped foster if we're being honest here, they'd have done it, too! It's a game for a million bucks! Come on, people. Get over yourselves! You screwed your own game by treating him like an outcast and then sending him to the other tribe to 'infiltrate'. Serves you right. Shame on you.

Mike finally got a trip back to North Carolina to check on what's going on with our house there. It's appeared for a while that we were getting billed for the exact same things over and over again, so much so, I quit paying until he could go see for himself. He's also there to build a new porch as it was rotting. The carpet, for example, looks the exact same as it did when my sister moved out according to a neighbor. When Mike told him we'd paid $125 to have it cleaned, the neighbor (used to be OUR neighbor and friend) asked what they cleaned. The ceiling tiles they replaced? They put 12 glossy tiles up with a room full of dirty dingy tiles. And didn't paint them all to match. Nor did they hang them right as they're drooping. It's a lot of things like that that's caused us to give a 30 day notice so we can get another company to take on managing the house. The neighbor has agreed to take care of the yard for a MUCH less price than what we were paying the management company to do so. The funny thing is, we were paying our management company to pay this neighbor to mow the yard. Irony. He's also offered to clean out whoever's trash is in the building and not charge us $75 bucks for each truckload. Yeah, we paid for three truck loads before and they didn't get it all.

The trip back home was an opportunity I couldn't say no to. Opportunity for Babygirl to go back and see family she hasn't seen in years. I'm so lonely. They were only home a couple of days before they had to leave again.

I could make this next bit into a huge post but I'm not going to dwell on it so it's just gonna be a bit (edit: big bit) here. My dad and brother drove in to see Mike and Babygirl. My brother even took them out to eat. How cool is that, that they showed that much interest? My mom, from what I'm told, only got out of her recliner to go use the bathroom. She spent the entire time they were there on her computer. Because, you know, seeing that grandchild you told was your favorite isn't that big a deal. I was angry for a minute but then thought, what did I expect? This is wild speculation on my part, pieced together from stories I've heard all my life, but I don't know if she ever wanted me more than wanting to do something to please my dad. She's as much as told me so, a LOT in my life, but you can't always take what she says as the truth. She lives in a weird reality and all that. But I've heard stories of how she abused me when I was a baby. I've never given them much credence but I have been thinking about them lately. Family says I cried all the time when my dad or grandparents weren't there. So much so, they thought she was abusing me. Grandma told me her and Grandpa, for a while, would rush over there from work to take care of me. I don't know how long they did that but Mom's told me how it used to just drive her insane waiting for dad to come home so someone would take care of me. I think she just couldn't deal with a baby so maybe she didn't. At least, like she should have. And when you throw that in with always hearing her say how she never wanted me and all that crap, yeah. That's what I think. So why would she want to see Babygirl? She wanted to see Blade but she thought he'd do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted and for as long as she wanted. She wants minions. Not my kids.

Oh wells. Least I don't have to feel bad for saying no to Babygirl going. And hey, she got to see my dad and brother. So that rocks.

And I hear she was a HUGE help in building that porch with Mike. I also heard she ran the electric saw to cut the boards. After my mini-heart attack, I had to remind myself she's 14 and he was right there with her.

Gonna listen to Celine blow me away one more time and then hit the sack. Alone. All by myself. In this big ol house.

/sigh

Reposting a picture

2011-12-13T07:22:00.000-06:00

Of my house when it was pink. Just because.

Because sometimes, you just have to scream out

2011-12-06T20:17:00.000-06:00

I watched this video a few nights ago and cried my self into a headache. This kid, Jonah, was eight kinds of brave in posting this. I think for him he felt compelled. Sometimes it just gets so big you have to scream. Tell someone. Do something. This is what he did. It's heart wrenching, beautiful, poignant and so important. If you haven't seen this yet, watch it.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TdkNn3Ei-Lg&w=480&h=360]

I watched it again the following night, and then again the next night. Then I noticed that people were making there own videos and posting them for Jonah. I watched a ton. And I cried with each of them. This reply stood out to me the most.

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7jfuSrTqWJI&w=480&h=360]

In school when I saw someone being made fun of, bullied, I stopped it. Didn't matter if I knew the victim. It was just wrong. By my Junior year all I had to do was walk into a room and they'd stop, cough or pretend to read something, and then leave the kid alone. There were kids who made fun of the handicapped kids. That broke my heart every time I saw it happen and I'd walk the kid away from the bullies and back to the classroom where they'd be safe. I was never sure if they knew what the other kids were saying exactly and doing to them, but I do know that every time they saw me walk down the hall they'd yell my name with excitement. They knew I was a friend. The handicapped kids. At first I thought it was because I worked with the Special Olympics every year but one of the teachers said it was because I stood up for them and helped them. And the work I did with them. Heh.

The thought that anyone could feel the way I felt at home got to me. I didn't want to see that happen. I felt small. Unwanted. A nobody. Nothing special, never would be. Ugly. Forgettable. Stupid. I tried SO. VERY. HARD to get help for us but no one would. So when I saw it happen to someone else, I had to do something to stop it. There I *could* do something. Least, I thought I could. It's a big problem, so much bigger than one teenager can handle.

That's why this outpouring of folks replying to Jonah with their video messages of support, telling him they get it and they know it gets better, ... it gets me. I want to see this continue. No. I want to see this explode. I want to see this spread like a fast traveling virus. I want everyone to see Jonah's video. And the replies. I want people to know they aren't alone. My mom and stepdad told me all the time that I was ugly, stupid and I'd never get anyone to love me. I wasn't like my sister, the beauty queen, that she'd find her Mr. Right and I wouldn't.

I've been married over 21 years now to the same guy, the love of my life. We have four beautiful kids, a grandkid on the way. Life is never easy but we've done it and are still doing it. My brother and sister are still looking. They've never had what I have. I wish they did. I wish they do. However you say that. From the bottom of my heart I do. But my point is that Mom and Wayne were wrong. I heard it so much that I often went to sleep at night wondering 'what if they're right?' I'm no beauty queen, far from it. I'm not a brainiac. I haven't achieved a wall full of plaques to showcase my great accomplishments.

I did find the other half of me, though. And he loves me. At the end of the day that's all that matters.

When someone singles you out and others join in to mock you, belittle you ... it's crushing. At times it's too crushing. Jonah may not realize just how brave he was and how important his video is, and will be for some time, but I see it. I was too afraid to tell anyone about what was happening to me. Maybe that's why I couldn't get anyone to help us. I told what was happening to my brother and sister. I was afraid if I told anyone what was happening to me, especially the things they said about me, then other people would see me the same way, they'd know what a horrible mistake I was, how I ruined my mom's life. I wasn't brave enough to stand up in the face of that. I'm glad Jonah was and I hope the floodgates fly off their hinges and more follow in his footsteps.

Because sometimes, you just have to scream out.

She's HOME!

2011-12-05T20:20:00.000-06:00

Babygirl left out with Mike for a few days trip that turned into nearly a week and a half. I think. Felt like three months! They're home now, however, and even with Mike leaving again in a few hours (delivery brought him through the house tonight) I know the house won't be way too quiet tomorrow. Or the next day. Added bonus is that she can take the dogs out while my knee tries to drive me insane with pain. Moxxie isn't that big compared to StarDust at full size but she's getting there. And she has incredible strength when she really has to pee. Not good for a banged up knee.

I'm just glad she's home!

And I've no idea what I'm going to do when she grows up and leaves for college. OMG!

Anyway, I did make it into the third chapter of my book last night by a paragraph. I don't know if he does this in all his books but so far, David Eddings tells you exactly what's what before what can even think about happening. I'm enjoying the story but the 'this is this and will be this' stuff drives me bonkers. It's why Harlen Coben has become my favorite author. He has a way of chiding you into thinking you've figured it all out and then rips the carpet out from under you. In his horror stories. I love that! I hate always knowing what's about to happen before it can happen, which is why I'm so picky about movies. Same old story or plot devices that leave nothing to the imagination and foretell every little thing. UGH.

Same thing with Christmas presents. They try so hard to hide or flat lead me in other directions and if I'm not going straight to them (without even thinking about it) I'm guessing it before they give it to me. Batty. Drives me batty. Speaking of, I've had one of those feelings I get before something bad happens for awhile. I hope it was my knee. Now that I think about it, I haven't felt it to think about today so maybe it was. Dunno. Could be a mind over matter thing as my needing a knee replacement has been very present on my mind the last few months. If I went to the doctor tomorrow, knowing how much worse it's getting, I'd still say no. Not until there's a way to help me out with the pain. Not strong enough to tough that out. But I can't remember the last day I didn't have that conversation in my head.

What does any of this have to do with Babygirl being home? Not a damn thing. But that's how I roll, right?

What goes up, must come down.

2011-12-04T19:10:00.000-06:00

And sometimes it comes down super hard.

I've been really busy the last few days what with sorting Christmas deco, cleaning, shoveling snow, .... I've gotten caught back up on all my podcasts (mostly gaming ones), made it into the second chapter of the book I'm reading (I keep falling asleep because I'm exhausted when I go to bed) and made a rather good tasting pot of hardish black-eyed peas. Let's start with the deco. Have I told you guys I'm a Santa horder? I remember counting the ones I had back when I was blogging on "Quack This". I think it was in the neighborhood of 60-ish? I've since added to the collection as well as losing most of my 'Santa's from around the world' ones. So it evens out I guess. I should probably do another count. I had to trash my Santa candles as they were just so old! One Santa's nose was smashed into his face. Another was missing an arm. One looked like he'd survived an explosion at the Crayola factory. Yada yada yada. So they're gone, a total of eight if I remember correctly. I've thinned out our tree decorations as well. I've a box full of them in the foyer waiting for someone to take them. And most of my Christmas tins were name-brand ones. I've never really liked them but I get them as presents and I figure if someone is going to go to the effort of trying to get me something I love, like, tins, then I should pay them back by displaying them for awhile. I've repaid all I wish to and would like to repurpose them to someone who'd enjoy them more.

Friday they were calling for a weekend snow event that should leave between 4-7 inches of the white stuff. It was to bring blowing winds as well so I started a crockpot full of dried black-eyes with a can of Tex-Mex tomatoes and a can of Campbell's French Onion soup. And then I forgot about it. Oh, and it was on high. By Friday night they were stuck to the pot. I dumped a couple cups of broth in, turned it on low and let it cook another couple of hours. It did the trick, too! They aren't rocks anymore. They're just not soft like they should be. They taste awesome, though. My intention was that, if we had a power outtage, I could just eat the beans if it was a long one. I didn't get around to trying them until today. Tomorrow the rest goes on the stove-top to slow cook a bit more.

Today I headed out to get the walks shoveled. I couldn't find our big snow shovel so I used the small red one on the porch. I didn't realize it was a kiddie-sized shovel though I absolutely did realize it was so short I had to bend completely at the waist to scoop the snow with it. It was only 4" of the light stuff but I had to stop almost every shovel full and stand up for two reasons. Pain and Moxxie. She loves the snow!!! She loves it so much she had to attack it/jump into it before I could get it off the shovel. I was so very much thankful when I was out of her leash-range! I made it around the house to the back door and a couple sidewalk sections into the one that goes out to the road. Then I had to go inside and rest my back. I decided I'd take it easy the rest of the afternoon and evening because the more I rested, the more it seized up on me.

So tonight I was watching IRT:Deadliest Roads. I got up, went between the coffee table and tree while saying, "Come on doggies, let's go potty!". They ran at me. They were so excited. One got on my left foot while the other on my right, which is how I came to fall forward, feet (somehow) off the ground up behind me, and come down on my bad knee. I did the ugly cry. I actually was still sniffling close to an hour later and I've come very close to tears a few times since. I've a purplish-knot just under my knee cap that's almost an inch long and feels like a hard giant jelly-bean. There's a spot just off the side of it, beside my knee cap, that's just as swollen but it's fluid. I've a purple bruise on the top of my knee cap.

I can wiggle my toes, albiet slowly, I can walk (if you call it that) but to put my weight on that knee makes my eyes get wet a little. I can bend my knee and lift my leg at the hip so I know nothing's broken, it just wants me to know it came close. I guess. Sucker hurts like immortal hell. The inside edge of my knee cap is too painful to touch. That's probably why I keep feeling it.

Moron -----> Me.

My gel pack has melted so I'm going to go to bed. In a few. Moxxie was so surprised by what happened she was totally quiet. She tried to lick my face when I was in the floor crying. I felt bad for the dogs, mostly because poor Nugget looked terrified. I came down just on that knee and then forward onto my head. Bet when my knee pain starts to fade (...that's a hint ... please) I'm going to feel it in my neck more. The noise of me falling, hollering and then doing the loud ugly cry scared Nugget. 'Course, everything scares Nugget. I've tried to distract myself as a new episode to a Star Trek podcast I listen to popped up tonight in my reader but I need to listen to it again. Found myself wishing the pain away and then wondering what they'd just said. Arg.

Maybe I can make it to chapter three in my book. It's a rather interesting story written by David Eddings called Pawn to Prophecy. Wouldn't have guessed I'd enjoy reading something that wasn't thriller/true crime/mafia ...

Yes, it was that cold last night

2011-12-02T07:48:00.000-06:00

3:50 AM- ringlinglinglingling, pick up the phone, it could be Allah calling (my ringtone for Blade)

Me: Hello?

Blade: Mom, we have no water!

Me: Did you guys ever shut the basement door?

Blade: Oh. Um, I forgot. Why?

Me: $&#)@ your @*#(@ pipes froze. *@(#@

Blade: I don't think so. How could they freeze?

Me: It's @*#(@ cold outside. Was 7°F with a windchill of -2 when Wonderboy left a couple of hours ago.

Blade: Is it really that cold outside?

Me: Go get that door shut and keep it shut.

Blade: Ok. I'll turn the heat up to 80°F to help them dethaw faster.

Me: Ok.

(this is paraphrased a bit as I was dead asleep and, other than the colorful parts, I may have the exact wording wrong. meaning is on the mark, tho)

4:50 AM-

text from Blade saying the pipes were still frozen

5:50 AM (or so)- ringlinglinglingling, pick up the phone, it could be Allah calling (my ringtone for Blade)

Me: Yeah?

Blade: Did we pay the water bill last month?

Me: Yeah.

Blade: Are you sure? The water still isn't working.

Me: Yeah. Pipes froze. Takes awhile.

(I don't remember much else but I think I told him I was going back to sleep) (oh, and it took him two times calling to get me to answer the phone this time as I was really asleep)

It was at that point that he started calling Mike. He was really thinking that he'd forgotten to pay the water bill and, I guess he thought they did middle of the night disconnects? Dunno, but as bad as I felt for him I'm hoping this will be a lasting lesson on keeping that @(*@&! basement door shut. The basement door is on the backside of the house and if it's open, rain, wind and snow goes right in. As well as stray cats. I think he said he had to run a bunch of stray cats out of his basement. Then again I may have just dreamed that. If I didn't dream it up then I'm assuming the reason the cats took up house in his basement is because a skunk is living in his garage because, wait for it, they left that door open for a long time, too.

Anyway, long story short, they have water again. I woke up with a freakishly awful headache. Felt like the outside of my head was being squeezed in a great big C clamp and the inside of my head had another big C clamp on it. Not fun. Thank ghod for Anacin! I'd spent about an hour in my basement before going to bed last night trying to clean this and that. Didn't get near as much done as I'd wanted because I couldn't hardly breathe down there. Mike said to wait and let him take care of it. Me thinks that's a good idea. I did get the rest of our Christmas stuff up, though, so I'm going to take the next couple of days and sort through it and hopefully, cut it down quite a bit. Lots of stuff I never use and a bit I'd never even want to. Time to find new homes for some of it.

This really bothers me

2011-12-01T14:16:00.000-06:00

Saw an article somewhere today about a lesbian couple who are considering (or have decided?) suing a baker for his refusing to make their wedding cake. The way I see it, and please, if I'm wrong, correct me, the gay community wants choice. They want the choice of marrying who they want, not who anyone else says they should marry. Makes sense and I agree. What bothers me, however, is that they're thinking about suing someone who made a choice he had every right to make. I'm not saying his choice was right or wrong. But it was his choice to decide if he should take their business. Isn't that a right given to all business owners? Like, the signs that say 'no shirt, no shoes, no service' ... ? People are fighting for their right to choose to be granted and protected by the laws of our country. This guy used his right but because they didn't like it, they're going to sue him?

I'll be honest. I think the pushing of political correctness is the stupidest thing we've ever come up with. I think trying to force one persons/groups beliefs down every bodies throats is childish. You say you want diversity but your actions prove that diversity starts and stops with your cause. I think the more some groups bring attention to all the ways they're being treated unfairly, screaming to the heavens that they demand to be accepted ... it's a big part of what alienates them. Making mountains out of molehills.

Suing this baker because he wouldn't make their cake is a molehill. Why is it necessary? Go somewhere else. If there were NO bakers willing to bake them a wedding cake, then BLAM. Sue the hell out of whoever. But really. Picking on this one person because their religious beliefs don't match yours is the same thing you're fighting against. Make up your mind and stop muddying the waters with the little stuff. Save it for the big battles.

I wish everyone was treated the same no matter what their beliefs, sexual preference, creed, financial status, ... are. It's not acceptable. Period. But in this case, I gotta call bunk.

Texting mishaps

2011-11-30T18:06:00.000-06:00

Blade woke me up Tuesday morning at 6:10AM via text message. I'd been in bed around three hours, sleeping ... if you can call it that. Moxxie barked/whined off and on the whole time. Anyway, I wasn't in a deep sleep but I was asleep none-the-less. When you take a foggy brained sleepy head, add auto correct and this weird 'sub a word' thing my phone does, and put them together, you get crazy texts. Here's our text conversation. His parts are in italics. Oh, and for some reason, it often drops down a line when I text instead of continuing on the same line I was texting on. All in the same text window. Weird.

---Start conversation---

...snipped long text asking if he can come over so he can work on his truck ...

Me: Yeah. Do u need butter in the house?

Me: Ignored

but ter

Blade: (confused emoticon) I'm not sure I understand what you're trying to say.

Me: Do u need in my house

Blade: I also need to get some clothes washed, so having access to the house would be nice.

Me: U suck. Ok

Wjen

Blade: So does that mean you'll be up?

Me: Well Im kind of awake bohemian anyway. When u vm coming over?

Blade: As soon as I get my clothes rounded up.

Me: Llamas

Blade: llamas?

Me: Meant kk. Not llamas

Blade: Autocorrect needs to go to school.

Me: Yeah budget

Blade: "buddy"?

Me: Yeah.

Blade: You said budget. Ya know, autocorrect replaces words with other words you use often. Seems you have a thing for llamas.

Me: No. Stupid software update made it bad. Plus I was waking upon

Me: *up

Blade: You can disable autocorrect.

Me: But I meed it. Sometimes it is helpful

Blade: Looks like it's more of a hinderance than an aid.

Me: Sometimes

Es

----End Conversation---

For the record I have never typed "llamas" in a text, email or anything else from my phone. Nor have I typed "bohemian". Blade is convinced bohemian llamas infected my phone. I can see where I was catching some of the auto goofs and trying to correct them, but I didn't do a very good job. I was sleepy. I also wonder if I was texting with my eyes closed or something. And just so we're clear, none of the errors in the above conversation are from my lovely typing skills here at my computer. I've triple checked it to be exactly how it was in our weird conversation.

Llamas? (that's Droid for 'kk')

Size matters

2011-11-30T01:47:00.000-06:00

Mike and Babygirl were in California when they stopped at a truck-stop to eat. She wanted strawberry shortcake for dessert. The picture on the menu showed a small cup of it. That looked perfect. What they served her was so large it was offensive. Well, I'd have found it to be offensive. They were just shell shocked.

[caption id="attachment_1411" align="aligncenter" width="169" caption="HO_LEE SHORTCAKE!!"][/caption]

And here's a picture that shows how the little puppy Moxxie has dwarfed Nugget in just a few weeks time. He's not the big dog in the house now and she lets him know it. Always.

Notice he's not wearing his harness? That's because she uses it to walk him around the house against his will. While it may be hilarious to watch as he'll stick all four legs out, straight, and pull backwards, she's bigger and he will walk with her whether he wants to or not ... it's dangerous as I'm afraid the way she pulls on it is going to choke him. So most of the time he doesn't wear it anymore. For his safety. And his sanity I'm sure.

Oh, they couldn't eat all of that shortcake. Most went in a doggy bag.

Another "oh" ... Moxxie is bound and determined to eat my coffee table one corner at a time. They all look horrible now.

Nugget's not a brainiac

2011-11-29T06:05:00.000-06:00

I was playing a console game last night with Nugget and Moxxie beside me on the couch. I went to take a picture of them with my phone and, to get their attention, said,

"Look at me my little gaming buddies".

[caption id="attachment_1406" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Outed!"][/caption]

If you can look past the HORRIBLE quality of this picture, doesn't Nugget looked skert about being outed as a gaming dog?

Here's a better picture that shows a bit of Moxxie as well.

[caption id="attachment_1407" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="gaming buddies"][/caption]

Same phone, same position, very much a crap-shoot when this skill-less one takes a photo.

Roto-Rooter (I type roto-tooter EVERY time) came out yesterday and cut all the tree roots out of the sewer line. Said this year, because we've been so very very dry, is bad for roots. We keep toying with the idea of replacing the sewer line with something other than terra-cotta shingle thingies or having it lined, but I dunno. It's $120 when they come out and they've been out 4-5 times since we moved in. If you don't count the hassle of clean up after the stupid thing over flows, not a bad price. Our biggest problem is that our neighbor's sewage line tees into ours before going under the road so when they flush baby wipes, we get the back-up/overflow in our basement. And there's nothing we can do about it as it's been this way since, I think, 1975? It's confusing.

Speaking of frustration, I just heard the tiny little snap of plastic that happens when Nugget is eating something he shouldn't. I immediately yelled "HEY!" and he immediately engaged the turbo jaw, chewed up it SUPER FAST and swallowed before I could get to him. Oh, and he's taught Moxxie the 'hyper-Pug' run, the one where he flies around the coffee table faster than the speed of light three times before running to the dining room table to repeat the stunt there. Only, she doesn't just stop with three rounds. Nugget doesn't know he can duck his head and go under the coffee table. If you put his food in the middle of the floor under the coffee table, he whines because he 'can't get to it'. Moxxie, who's a lot bigger than Nugget now, can duck and cut under the coffee table WHILE doing the hyper-Pug run thing.

And he still hasn't figured it out yet.

Oh, here's a funny. Mike can pretend to put Nugget on his leash and walk him around the yard. He has no idea he's free. I don't understand how Mike does this so easily but I told Wonderboy about it a couple of days ago. Wonderboy pretended to hook Nugget to his leash and then took him outside. And then had to chase his ass down as Nugget took off! When they got back in Wonderboy said,

"YOU LIED TO ME!" while panting up a storm. Heh.

I totally did not. Works for Mike every time. Oh wells.

Moxxie doesn't need to be on a leash. Unless there's a stray cat in our yard. That was fun.

NOT.

There's still standing water in the basement. In spots, not the whole basement. Yesterday when I was sweeping litter (thanks, Moxxie! grr) off the basement steps I was hunched over as there isn't enough room to stand all the way up on a couple of the steps. My back seized on me so I shot straight up and hit the wood so hard it popped a tightly clasped hairbow out of my hair. That hurt. The area around the drain is sloped inward towards the drain. I was trying to sweep the litter box crap up as it's in the room with the drain and took a step backwards, and slid down the slope. The back of my foot caught in the drain and stopped me sliding, but not before I hurt my knee trying to stop me sliding. I tried to get the outside trashcan back up the steps and outside but that was a no go. I should have emptied it first before putting a bag of wet stuff in it. Hoping one of the boys will come and get it out for me. Has a humongous pumpkin from our front porch in it.

Sometimes I'm as dumb as Nugget.

Once the water's gone down all the way we need to bleach mop it as it smells horrendous. By "we" I mean 'someone-else' as bleach is an instant migraine for me. Hoping I can talk one of the boys into doing that, too, so it doesn't have to wait for Mike to get back. Would like to get rid of any chance of that awful mold starting before it has a chance to start this time.

Monday needs a shock collar

2011-11-28T08:14:00.000-06:00

I got up four hours after I went to bed NOT because my alarm clocks went off. Oh no. I just woke up. BEFORE they could go off. I hate that.

Moxxie jerked me out the front door so hard I hit my face on the glass of the screen door.

She was so anxious to get outside she got tangled up in Nugget's leash and then drug us both down the steps.

She also kept doing this flying tackle thing everytime Nugget lifted his leg to pee. He was *so* not impressed.

I had no broccoli casserole for breakfast because some pig ate it all last night

Oink.

I found I'd posted something I did not want posted.

<insert panic here>

It was 16°F when I took the dogs out this morning. The windchill was around 11. We stayed out a good 15 minutes.

If we'd stayed out 16 minutes Moxxie maybe would have pooped outside.

Speaking of, is it natural for a dog to poop TONS? (I take them out before I go to bed at night so it's not like she ate the entire buffet at Golden Corral and then had to poop)

When I finally made it down to the basement to see if I had anything good in the freezer, HOURS later, I found the basement flooded.

I went back upstairs to call Mike and tell him. I forgot to shut the basement door. Guess what?

Moxxie got down there and dumped our great big cat litter bin over.

Floating logs and litter ev_ver_ree_where!

She also knocked our new box of pine litter off and into the water. Did not improve the smell.

Did make a tremendous mess. Absorbent my ass.

When I called Roto-Rooter he asked for my name. Gave him my last name. He thought it was strange and then asked for my last name.

Well, ...doh.

When I opened the backdoor to go get an outside trash can (so I could clean the basment) the screen door was flopping in the breeze. Wind broke it off the door frame again.

That explains the scary noises I kept hearing last night.

I called two of my sons to come help me. One didn't want to. The other didn't want to (but had a better excuse).

I need a shower and a new pair of sneakers now.

Ok, so I can wash my sneakers but they're older than dirt and may fall apart in the washer.

Except, I can't use water until Roto-Rooter fixes the basement.

That means no shower and even though I've cleaned myself with wipes, my mind is saying it still smells poo. Wet poo and litter. Burned into my olfactory system.

Which is over-compensating for my missing sense of taste given I burned the hell out of my tongue on lunch.

I hate Mondays.

Whoops

2011-11-28T04:13:00.000-06:00

Last night I typed up a post just to be able to type it up. It was supposed to have stayed in my drafts for me to read or discard at a later date but I found it live here when I checked to see what the last thing I'd posted was. I could kick myself! I know some will see it still if their reader doesn't update. Or maybe it just stays as posted via feeds? Either way, very sorry and you should be ever so glad that doesn't happen often.

While I'm hear, I cried my way through the season finale of Sister Wives last night. Especially when Robyn had the alone talk with Meri at the end. And wasn't Baby Solomon just the cutest? Really did look like a "Brown baby". Looked like a tiny Hunter to me.

Must go make coffee so that is all.

It's a biggen'

2011-11-26T08:57:00.000-06:00

Bear and I have been discussing getting Mike a recliner for years going into specifics, like, no leather as we have pets with claws, must actually recline, sturdy framework so it'll last a very long time, soft fabric, .... The recliner we picked is an awesome one and Mike loves it. I've taken a bunch of pictures of it but with the sun having been absent from this part of Iowa lately and my dimmish lighting in the house, the ONLY good picture I've gotten so far was one with Mike in it. He was sick and in a lot of pain, and that shows. I doubt he'd be happy with me should I post that one so you'll have to wait for a nice sunny day before I can get a decent picture. I thought about moving the lamps over to that corner of the living room but that's a lot more work than lazy folks like me want to deal with ....

Anyway, when talking with Bear while he was looking at the different chairs we miscommunicated one thing. The size of the recliner. Bear has always always ALWAYS been a huge believer in "Bigger is BETTER!!!". He showed me pictures of the ones that fit my criteria. The size of the chair was not properly conveyed via these pictures. That sucker is HUGE! I'd asked him how much floor space they (the two we'd narrowed it down to) would take up. He said,

"Oh, about half the size of a small couch".

I thought he meant half the size of our love seat. But no. Apparently, to him, our big couch is a small one as it's not a 'wrap around' or sectional or what have you. It's just an average sized three-cushioned one. The recliner is almost the width of our love seat. On the plus side, we can snuggle together in the recliner when watching movies. The good thing is that Mike really does love it, though he was thrown when he saw the size of it. I'd told Bear that I couldn't pay over $500 for a recliner. This one was *just* under that because it was on a 50% off sale. It's a good chair, well made and should last a very long time. Still, I can't help but chuckle in that amazed 'WTH' way every time I walk past it.

I'm now very glad we gave the love seat to Wonderboy last week. Otherwise there'd be no room for it.

Livid with my armpit

2011-11-25T17:19:00.000-06:00

I'm going to freaking kill Murphy. I don't care if this goes full blown again or not, he's a dead figment if I ever saw one. I typed up the 'stab wound update' and gave it that specific title because I've been more aware of the pit lump from this summer lately. When I got out of the shower this afternoon I was standing in front of the mirror towel drying my hair when I noticed something odd at the end of my armpit explosion scar. I stopped and stared, moved closer, felt around, cursed the shoulder Murphy sits on, felt around some more, thought about crying, put a hex on Murphy, .... It's starting again. I'd thought the tightness I've been feeling in that pit was from over use of that arm this week with all the cleaning and cooking I've done. It's actually from a second gland that's very swollen. I should have known, really should have. The thing you can see on my pit preceded the extreme pain phase that came before my armpit exploded in July. Or was it June. Dunno. If it does the same thing this time, it'll go down and then all hell will break loose in my pit. I'm not happy.

I've been complaining of feeling poorly for a few of weeks, perplexed as to why I keep getting sick. Like, one stomach bug after another. Or one that just loves me so much it can't leave me for too long before coming back to visit again. This happened last time, too, the getting sick over and over again with everything I came in contact with. I'm wishing very much that a pre-emptive doctor visit will keep my pit intact. I'd have to go back and really think but I'm guessing if I can't get this taken care of soon, my pit will go boom a week or two before Christmas?

I'm going to up my Vitamin D, probiotics and see if I can get a script for that awful antibiotic again on Monday. Maybe a couple days head start before starting the meds will keep it from tearing my system a new one. Then I'm going to hunt down Murphy (assuming he's camped out on the shoulder that belongs to my mean-ass armpit), torture him, kill him and beg forgiveness so I'll maybe be in the Big Guy's good graces again. So my glands won't do this again. Ever.

Well that didn't go as planned

2011-11-25T03:17:00.000-06:00

Bear, Wonderboy and I had come up with a plan to get Mike's Christmas present today. They were going to take the truck as we were unsure if it'd fit in Bear's vehicle and go early this morning to hopefully catch one on sale. Bear woke up sick. Then we noticed it was sprinkling. So Bear is on the way to Sioux City with Babygirl and Mike in the Tahoe. To get Mike's present. He's promised not too look but it's going to take up the whole back end of the Tahoe.

So.

Mike's getting an early Christmas present today.

And he's going to freak when he realizes how much we put on the credit card to get it.

But he'll love it as he's been wanting one for Y_E_A_R_S_!!!

When he overheard what credit card I wanted to put it on, he had a mini heart attack. Because that might imply it's not cheap. He had to sit down.

BUT, since it's a recliner, he can sit down once it's home. Right?

We've been trying to work this out for years, getting Mike his recliner. Something has ALWAYS blocked it from happening. This year, we're just going to do it. Usually he gets one of two things for Christmas. Nothing or little stocking stuffer type items. It's way past time he got something that he's really wanting (other than audio books ... that would be the *most* usual thing he gets for Christmas, his birthday and Father's Day now that I think about it). We've halved our water bill, cut the power bill by a lot more than I thought we could and have tried to save here and there so we could afford to do this. He's still going to flip but at least he'll have a nice chair to land in when he falls over. Ha.

Let's hope Bear's stomach holds out long enough to get this purchased and loaded up. He's dropping Mike and Babygirl off at one store so he can go and get it. Totally not how we'd planned but at least it's going to happen. Remind me, come January when I'm the one freaking out over the credit card bills, to come back and read this post.

It 'tis done

2011-11-24T19:11:00.000-06:00

Three days of cooking culminated into me being a frenzied ball of mess during the last hour of cooking today. Mike peeled and chopped 10lbs of russets for me before going out to his truck to clean up and get his stuff sorted. Normally he handles the mixer come time to mash the potatoes while I get the casseroles out of the oven, thicken the gravy, get the biscuits in the oven, .... all the last minute things you do before putting the food on the table. Only, he was out in his truck. I was already pouring with sweat, my head on which I'd piled my hair felt like it was 108°F, my stomach didn't feel good at all and we were having problems getting ahold of Blade and Wonderboy to tell them to come on. I said something like, 'OMG I NEED DAD'S HELP!' Babygirl ran in the kitchen and said, basically, 'Tell me what to do'. She, my friends, was a lifesaver today.

Oh, and I also chose that last hour to make a pear, cranberry and gingersnap crumble. And a few extra biscuits using Crisco instead of lard for my hard-line vegetarian son.

I also forgot to heat the cranberry sauce I'd made yesterday so they ate it cold. Right out of the fridge as I'd also forgotten to put it on the table when we were moving all the dishes to the dining room.

When we finally were able to get in touch with Wonderboy, he snapped in such a hateful way because it was three minutes after 2pm. We were supposed to eat at 2pm. Babygirl had him on speaker phone and when I heard what he said, I snatched the phone from her and utterly and completely lost my temper. I may have also referred to him as Mr. *ucktard. I'm told my halo is held up by the horns sticking out of my head .... I did, after unleashing a very (quick) pent up hour of frustration on him, text him from my phone and apologize. He hadn't gotten up for the day, as it turns out, and was upset that he'd overslept. That's not my fault. Which is why I later told him that although I shouldn't have said what I said, he'd deserved it all the same. 'Cause I'm a nice mom like that.

ANYWAY, we finally sat down to eat around 2:30? I dunno, I'd gotten so overly hot from being in the kitchen cooking all morning, and our temps reaching low 60s today while our heater wouldn't turn off, I had to step outside for a few and let the wonderfully blowy wind cool me off. It was either that or go to bed and sleep under the air conditioner that's still in the bedroom window. Dinner went well and though we all seemed a tad on the tired/sick side (it REALLY got hot in the house!) they enjoyed it. I waited until they'd tried the turkey to tell them I didn't do it the exact same way I've done it at least twice a year for the last 20 years. When I told them I used mayo and spices on the bird before roasting it, they looked shell-shocked. They said to do it again come Christmas. I added spinach to my crockpot dressing this year. I was asked not to do that again. I think I was the only one who really liked it.

Once I had the crumble dessert out of the oven, I took a nap and woke up to a clean kitchen! Fairies!! Mike, the saint, cleaned the kitchen up while I slept. I've got a fridge full of left-overs that should last a day or two, depending, and I'm most thankful that Thanksgiving is now behind us. I love to do the dinner but that last hour crap frustrates me. It's a little on the hard side some years to get several days worth of cooking to come together and be ready all at the same time. At least, for me it is. I am, however, looking forward to Christmas cooking. Because it's a few weeks away still so I can romanticize it to my heart's content.

Oh, did I mention that Wonderboy called me at 3:48 AM Thanksgiving morning? And then Blade called Mike about 10-15 minutes later? Mike's ringtone for Blade is the theme from that old Popeye cartoon. When it went off I jumped straight up, grabbed Mike hard and hollered, "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT??" I'd never heard the ringtone and it plum scared the snot outta me. Let me tell you, hearing that loud "TOOT TOOT" in the middle of the night is not a fun experience! 'Twas close to 5am when I finally dozed off again. We got up around 8am. It's a wonder I could function today.

Hope your Thanksgiving went well!

So far ...

2011-11-23T13:54:00.000-06:00

I've gotten my sweet potato casseroles done,

: Sweet potato casseroles

I've made mana from heaven,

: Winter Broccoli Casserole

deviled eggs are in the fridge,

: One of my trays of deviled eggs

I have a gallon and a bit of green tea with citrus made and cranberry sauce going on the stove top.

: Cranberry sauce

I still need to make my buttermilk biscuits (may not have lumps of cheese in them this year as I forgot the cheese) and my pies. I feel like I'm forgetting something but not sure what it could be. Tomorrow I roast the turkey, make the gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans (no casserole, just the beans) and maybe corn. Still undecided on the corn. Dinner had better be good this year. Me is very tired.

The shock of pregnancy

2011-11-22T21:16:00.000-06:00

When I was pregnant with Blade I was a hot mess and then some! My emotions were all over the place, I puked every time I blinked (or so it seemed) and I gained 55-60 pounds with him. He weighed 8lb 1 1/2 oz when he was born. I lost all but 10lbs of the weight I gained when I had him. 'Twas water. TONS of water. That's why I puked all the time ... I was sea sick, quite literally. My boss wouldn't let me do ANYTHING without carting a big trashcan around with me my nausea was so bad. Mike got to where he refused to take me out to eat as it was embarrassing. I couldn't keep anything down! I think that added to the emotional stress as those who spent any length of time around me would warn everyone to 'watch out'. The last few months (TMI alert!) I was a somewhat constant exploding gas-ball, too. If I moved an inch I was farting.

SO. EM. BARRASSING!

Oh, did I mention I worked the diesel island in a truck stop while I was preggers? Yeah, the truckers loved me but .... whew.

The hormonal roller-coaster I rode when pregnant with Blade beat the 'teenage years'. It was awful! Mike, at one point, asked my doctor if he could prescribe me something for it. Poor guy was at the brunt end of everything. I had horrible nightmares where I was covered in ants and had to fight and kill them to free myself. Woke up more times than I can count with Mike on top of me pinning my arms down while yelling at me to wake up and stop hitting him. When I wasn't fighting him in my sleep, I was rolling out of the bed to get away from the ants. I think that upset him just as much as the sleep punching. Mike's a freaking saint putting up with so much! Like, the 2am doughnut runs. He worked first shift. A couple of times a week I'd get these horribly massive cravings for fresh doughnuts and he'd get up and go get them. I never craved them unless it was in the middle of the night and we found that if they hadn't just been made, they didn't do it for me. He was *never* happy about my middle-of-the-night cravings but he went and got them every_single_time. Like I said, saint!

I would burst into tears, sobbing, for absolutely no reason. I'd get angry for no reason. Rage-filled even. I'd wake up in the middle of the night and have these huge giggle fits. I was all over the place and drove Mike up a wall! Drove me crazy, too, as I didn't understand what was going on with me. I swore I was going crazy but my doctor assured me repeatedly that for some, a first pregnancy shocks your system so bad it just happens. Luckily my last two pregnancies were much better on the emotional-bat-shit-crazy front. Not sure Mike could have with stood that two more times!

Pear mentioned on Facebook that she's an emotional wreck. I totally get that. This is her first pregnancy and it's throwing her for a loop I'd imagine. Sure did me! She's cut caffeine out of her diet completely because she doesn't want to still be drinking it when she breasts feeds ... so she's experiencing some pretty severe headaches. I suggested she ween herself off the stuff rather than go cold turkey to see if that helps. She's not wanting to take a lot of meds but you know, when you get migraines and you're pregnant, you have to take something for them. They're super stressful and when you're stressed, so is the baby. When I was pregnant with Wonderboy I had one migraine after another and my doctor prescribed a pain pill for them that kids take. Said you can give it to kids under 12, no problem, so it'd be safe for the baby. Wasn't safe for me, though, as we found I was allergic to it. I drank a lot of Pepsi while eating chocolate bars and taking aspirin and Tylenol. (excedrin migraine wasn't out yet but I'd found that combo helped) We also kept black trash bags taped over the bedroom windows and I had a little pillow just for blocking the glowing numbers on our alarm clock. My migraines at that time were all light/sound sensitive.

I'm hoping the morning sickness won't last long with Pear. I hear that's pretty common for some. Her and Bear will be coming in tomorrow (well, later today actually) for Thanksgiving. Her mom (again) doesn't want her staying with them longer than a day so she'll be here with us until they go back to the college. Going to make sure the toilet is super clean before she gets here. I puked harder and longer if I thought a toilet was dirty when I was pregnant. Ugh. What's funny is that it didn't HAVE to actually be dirty. Just the thought of it possibly being dirty would kick me into over drive. So I figure that's the least I can do for her. Just need to figure out where everyone will be sleeping ...

Wish I could share this stuff with you guys!

2011-11-22T13:57:00.000-06:00

I think. Sharing would mean less for me .... hmmm. I made over a gallon and then found out I'm plum out of freezer containers. I want to cook Thanksgiving dinner with some, we're having some for supper tonight and then freeze the rest. So Wonderboy and Babygirl are on their way to Wal-Mart to remedy the situation for me. It wasn't until the cream of celery soup was nearly done before Wonderboy recognized it and decided he was staying for supper. Smart guy!

[caption id="attachment_1372" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Cream of celery soup"][/caption]

I have a very yellowish light in then kitchen and when you add to that my craptastic picture taking skills, the colors are off a tad. Doesn't have that much of a green tinge to it when you're standing over the soup. Anyway, this stuff is da bomb! Makes casseroles and other dishes you'd add the tinned stuff in so much better. Much richer flavor!

It has begun

2011-11-22T12:52:00.000-06:00

I've had my days mixed up something awful and announced a few days ago I was going to make my leek broth and cream of celery soup. I lied (albeit, because I'm a totally doofus and thought it was Tuesday). I've started today, however, and here's proof.

[caption id="attachment_1367" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="a creamy leek broth"][/caption]

I used this recipe from The Hungry Hobbit's Foodie Blog only I left out the potatoes. I did a quick puree' but didn't want it completely thin so it's more creamy than thin. I then immediately started my cream of celery soup in the same pot I did the leek broth in (without washing it, on purpose) and used leek broth in place of the chicken broth I'd normally use to get it started.

[caption id="attachment_1368" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="'Twill be cream of celery soup!"][/caption]

I can't wait to try this soup with the leek broth! Babygirl and I will probably have a bit for supper once it's done as we LOVE this stuff! Now to go peel my eggs. Or bribe Babygirl to peel them for me. I like that idea better.

Moxxinated

2011-11-21T20:40:00.000-06:00

[caption id="attachment_1364" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Click to enlarge"][/caption]

See that missing spot of kitchen floor covering thingy? It's right in front of my bathroom door which means I can't just put something over it to hide it. Oh no. It's where you can't help but look at it every time you walk in the kitchen. We could only find one tiny chewed up bit to the missing section so I guess Moxxie ate it. I suppose if I were a dog and had worked that hard to rip up a large section, I'd be tempted to eat some of my spoils as well. Still, not happy. At all. I bet Mike will be especially unhappy when he sees it, too. Arg.

Why she'll never make a good sniper

2011-11-18T07:55:00.000-06:00

She was trying to 'snipe' me with one of my crutches. When I told her you never see your sniper, she fixed that. Ha.

Stab wound update

2011-11-17T20:15:00.000-06:00

I don't really have a stab wound. It just looks as though I do. Remember armpit lump from this summer? Yeah. The scar looks like I was stabbed with a thick knife right smack in the armpit. I see why the scars these ruptured glands leave behind upsets people. But. It's in my armpit (as were the ones I read about) and why anyone would feel the need to consult with a plastic surgeon over it? I suppose if you're an armpit model, maybe.

Anyway, I'm of the mindset that the previously infected gland is never going to go back down to the size it was before. Or, maybe because I know which gland it was that freaking exploded on me, I just feel it. Dunno. It never bothers me anymore so I'm happy with that.

My thumb is still healing. It's very much at the point where if I'm not smashing it into something, I don't think about it much. Mainly only when I'm touching something with it. That still feels odd, as in, whatever I'm touching doesn't feel right. But it's lessening on that so hopefully it won't be long and I won't think about it ever again. Things feeling so alien when I touch them with that thumb gets me something fierce. Gets on my last nerve and jumps. Hard. But since they aren't as alien-feeling as they were a couple of weeks ago, I shouldn't complain.

I'll tell you what I am complaining about, however. Waking up with a crashing headache and feeling pain all over my body. All day long. This is going to sound really stupid and remove any tad of doubt you guys may have had about my sanity, but. I think it's stemming from that allergic reaction a couple nights ago. Not FROM more than because. Why? It freaked me out in a very traumatic way. Sort of. I have my guard up 95% of the time because I'm so used to coming in contact with stuff I shouldn't. I'm used to having reactions. This one, though, caught me by complete surprise and to make matters worse, I seriously 'taxed' myself trying to fight the panic. Like, drained. Completely. Felt tired and worn out after it was over. Do I sound crazy? Yeah, I know. It makes a lot of sense to me, however, as I've noticed I do this following big ... upsets? Is that the word? I dunno.

When we had to have one of our sons committed, I did it then. When another was in trouble with the law? Then, too. A lot. I did it a week or two ago when we went through a very frightening experience. This reaction felt like my entire body was under attack, so sayeth the drama queen. I've had them before but I just don't remember being caught off guard this badly or it having the effect on me that this last one did. It's like an after-response, the pain all over. Mike hugged me when I got up and it made me hurt everywhere he touched me. I saw him standing there waiting for me to walk to him so he could hug me. I gave him a wide berth because I didn't want to tell him 'I hurt all over again', again. He thought I was mad at him so I immediately went to him and let him hug me. When I winced, he figured it out. Because I just do this sometimes.

Because I suck. Blarg.

Part of me says I shouldn't complain at all because it's not all-the-time-every-single-day like it used to be before I cut aspartame completely out of my diet. But. I'm complaining anyway. Because I can and because I wouldn't be me if I weren't complaining about something. Hopefully this one is short lived and Friday will be a MUCH better day. Thursday sucked big ole' donkey balls. When I realized I was sitting in my chair curling up in that awkward way I do when I hurt all over, I really just wanted to go back to bed until it passed. My family would be upset if I did that, though, so I just tucked into the corner of my desk and rode it out. Feels some better now so hopefully a good nights sleep will put it to rest.

What was THAT?

2011-11-16T07:58:00.000-06:00

Mike came home yesterday with a couple of gifties for me. One was my all time favorite burger, a mushroom and swiss. I love these things and although Dairy Queen, in my opinion, has the best one, Burger King does a good job with them as well. As I was eating my burger I noticed a strange taste, a taste not to my liking, but I was starving! I hadn't eaten since breakfast yesterday and by 6pm, it's a wonder I unwrapped the burger before I devoured it. The weird taste I wondered if it could be attributed to dry mouth. Apparently, I have a bad case of dry mouth as my tongue bleeds a lot, my gums are still receding, ... Sometimes I get weird tastes in my mouth so I passed it off.

Wonderboy called his ex-boss to find out what was in the mushroom and swiss. They've changed it quite a bit. It's no longer a 'steak house burger' which explains why it was on a much smaller bun. They've also started buying a new griller sauce to use on this burger (assuming others as well?) but she didn't say what was in it. I'd told Mike the 'bad taste' was like burnt steak or something so I'm guessing that was the griller sauce. I was showing him a video on YouTube when he leaned forward and asked if I was having a reaction to something.

I'd noticed the itching for sure. I felt it spread. It was typical for an allergic reactions but in my head, it wasn't computing. Rather, I was fast arguing with my mind as I KNEW I hadn't taken any meds or come in contact with any new substances. It just wasn't making sense even though 'itch receptors' were starting to fire off all over my body. This kind of itching feels deep, so deep, you think (when in the throes of the reaction) that you'd need something sharp enough to peel back your skin so you can get down to the itch to make it stop. It makes you feel that you're slowly losing your mind, going insane, only you're completely aware that you're losing it. And I was giving in to it and scratching, hard and fierce and fast. Like a madman if you will. There were no bumps, no hives, no swollen areas (I thought) and it just wasn't adding up or maybe I didn't want it to add up. What I'm trying to say is that I didn't understand what the hell was going on with my body for a few moments because I knew I hadn't taken any meds. I never react like this to a food allergy. Ever. It's always meds or soaps or chemicals that cause that kind of reaction.

I took an allergy pill hoping to start warding the insane itching off. I showered with water so hot it made me cry, hoping to 'burn the itch out'. That, by the way, only makes the itching worse as it dries your skin out. At one point I was steady grabbing things off Mike's desk, like big mean looking drill bits, and as quickly as I had my hands on them, he was jerking them away from me. I was a MESS! And I was angry because I'd given in to the panic and just could NOT get on top of it. If you can control your breathing and calm down, you can resist the scratching a bit. I was terrified Mike was going to jab me with an EPI pen because it sounded like I was having problems breathing when it was just the panic. I could breath just fine but he kept arguing with me that I needed the pen. Luckily, he gave on the idea of stabbing my thigh with it. I finally took a second allergy pill an hour later and within 30 minutes, started feeling relief. I also had to take a Dramamine as I was sick to my stomach something awful. All in all, the worst of it lasted around an hour and a half. I was still itchy when I went to bed hours later, but nothing major. Just annoying.

The only thing we can figure is that it was the burger that got me. Something in the new sauce they're using. I'm hoping we can track down an ingredient list for the sauce so I can see if it's something we know I'm allergic to or something new. I hate this. I also haven't brushed my hair last night or today because I got ahold of my scalp with crazed scratching and it still hurts and burns. Must have sliced it up a bit with my nails. Have bits of damage to my skin here and there but, since Mike was here to hold my hands when I couldn't NOT scratch, I didn't scratch any skin off that I can see. I've done that before. Scratched until I was bleeding ... and still would scratch like a madman as the itching is just so deep you can't get to it. Last night made me feel like a big baby because I gave in to the panic. GAH!

Anyway, no more mushroom swiss burgers for me. As a matter of fact, I don't think I want any burger I don't cook myself for a long long time.

Flexibility is key

2011-11-14T10:58:00.000-06:00

So. It was me after all. I think.

Babygirl was a completely different 'student' last week. She didn't mind doing her school work, save for last Monday ... she didn't want to start but once she did, she liked it. She's just told me that if we keep going the way we're going now, she may want to continue home schooling next year. I was pushing too hard. I've lightened up quite a bit and she's still getting done what she needs to accomplish. Why I didn't do this from the start? I dunno. It's easier on both of us this way and I love seeing her want to get her work done. I hope we can continue this, me keeping myself in check and not expecting too much and her having an awesome attitude about school. I went with dual-enrollment so she could take the end of year tests at the school with everyone else as I thought that would be the best option for us. If we do this next year (and I really hope we do) I may go a different route. We can get our 'testing' done via other avenues. I'll absolutely go with a different health and history curriculum if nothing else. The ones I'm using this year are so bone dry with Bible verses thrown in for good measure. It's not fun. It's tedious and I have to pretend to enjoy it at times when I'd rather run the books through the shredder. Ugh.

I went with an extended period on Poe because she really REALLY likes reading Poe. I'm not planning lessons out further than a week at a time right now so I'm looking to see what we'll cover next for literature. I'm wanting to stick with the text book but at the same time, flexibility is a good thing. Poe, in the text book, was just a few pages but she's responded wonderfully to the way we've done it, I think I'll work other authors in as well as doing what the text book suggests. She enjoyed our unit on Frederick Douglas a ton. May go in that direction.

This week for Biology we have some interesting experiments coming up. We need to grow mold for one. Another we need to find wild mushrooms. I have no idea where to look for those around here and am hoping her brothers do. Or Mike. I don't know if he's coming in this week or not so I'm going to hit up Wonderboy and Blade and see if they can help us track down the 'shrooms. Should be a fun week for science.

I'm a little upset to see that the problem really was me and my outrageous expectations. Always had a problem in that area. Can't believe how bad it really was, though. :(

Music Monday

2011-11-13T20:06:00.000-06:00

Have you guys heard of Birdy? If not, you should give her a listen. She's 15 and has such an amazing and soulful voice. I was shocked and am really enjoying what I've heard so far. I'll post a couple of links to YouTube. Give a listen. Well worth it.

The A-team (Ed Sheeran cover)

People Help the People

My stepmom sent me a link to this most amazing video of IL Devo singing Amazing Grace. Complete with a bagpipes solo. My Grandma's favorite song was Amazing Grace and I really think that if she could have heard these guys singing it, it would have brought her to tears. It did me. 'Course, the whole time I was listening I saw her in my head. She died when I was 14 but I still miss her so very much. The arrangement is incredible and really showcases the drama, the power-fullness of this song. It starts off soft and tender which, in my opinion, is a perfect illustration of the meaning behind the song. Actually, I think the entire song, from the music to the singing style to the video production is the most on-point exact illustration of Amazing Grace I've ever heard. The meekness, reverence, the power and glory ... it's all there. The location was awe-inspiring. I honestly don't think Sandi Patty and Larnelle Harris could have achieved this and before watching this video, they were, for me, the bar.

Here's the link. If you don't listen to any music today, make time for this one. It's that good.

Oh, gotta ask ... does it look like the bagpipe dude appears out of thin air to you?

Things that really tick me off

2011-11-11T04:43:00.000-06:00

Gloria Allred. Is she helping 'women's causes' or making light of them? I can't tell to be honest. If there was a chance I could have bought into these allegations surrounding Herman Cain, seeing her standing beside one of the 'victims' removed any possibility.

Prosthetic dog balls. I mean, really? Who is this helping? And since when does vanity surgery become seen as 'caring'? Why on earth would you put your dog through this procedure? And why would you think it's something he needs?

Google's way out. The message that says, 'we know this may not be to your liking so here's a link to download your stuff so you can leave' is insulting. I think. It IS a choice but it feels like another way of saying 'don't let the door hit ya on the way out'. (looked for a link to the message and it appears they've changed it so that it reads a bit nicer. Still, saw the other one enough for it to tick me off)

Ashton Kutcher handing his Twitter account over to his team. So he made a mistake. He didn't know all the facts when he tweeted about Paterno. Who hasn't done that? It makes him human and real. I don't follow him on Twitter but knowing his team will be overseeing his tweets now, I never will. The few celebrities I do follow, if it looks like they aren't the ones actually tweeting, I unfollow. I don't want to read 'perfect or polished or even always correct' tweets. I want to see what you're thinking beit right or wrong. I'm not perfect and I don't expect you to be either. You'd be boring if you were.

Geometry.

Netflix. I am having a hard time finding movies I want to stream. I wanted, for instance, to stream "Silent Night, Bloody Night", a movie made back in 1973. Assuming it's the movie house that owns the rights that have said 'no, you can't stream my stuff', have they not made enough money off it? Is that why? Is Netflix trying to convince me that I need to pay $7.99 for both streaming privileges AND another $7.99 for the 'disk in the mail' service? Not happy with Netflix. At all. Really wondering if I should be giving them the $7.99 I pay every month at all. Ridiculous.

Angelea on America's Next Top Model: All Stars. I am unsure if I can accurately put it into words, but I just don't like this girl. She talks a good game ... fierce even, but let the camera start clicking her picture and she just fizzles out. Boring. And maddening to hear the talk then see she can't walk the walk. I want her to go back to her beautiful apartment, pack her bags, and GO HOME!

Being sick. And people, let me tell you. I'm sick. I hope that explains why I've been the Queen of Stupid this week.

Was sure I'd have so many, given how easily annoyed I am, that I'd have to cut the list down to just ten. I was wrong. Which, could be number nine easy as I don't like being wrong. Oh wells.

Why is that my problem?

2011-11-10T05:13:00.000-06:00

Wonderboy came over in a blue funk yesterday. He was bored, he said, tired of being at home, tired of living with Blade, tired of Blade not socializing with him like he should, tired of ......... We sat in silence for most of his visit because I'd been working on grasping a geometry lesson ( I swear, I have a block and it's made of cement) so when it came time for Babygirl to do it, I'd be ahead enough to field her questions. Wonderboy gets mad when he's not the center of my universe and this visit was no different. He has, for YEARS!!!, come to me when he was bored and demanded that I do something about it. Mike says I should be glad he comes to me instead of finding less-than-acceptable ways of curing his boredom. I disagree. Completely. And not because I'd rather him be out and getting in trouble. No. It's because he's an adult and, in my opinion, is suffering from boredom of his own doing. Even if he were still 12 years old, it's not my problem.

He listed reasons why he's bored or fed up with this and that. Blade, he claims, doesn't buy food for him. He's going to starve to death. Literally. He even threw in an emphatic "MOM!" to make sure I understood the seriousness of this. I know this isn't true. What IS true is that Blade doesn't buy meat or the food Wonderboy's wanting to eat. I told him to get a paycheck and his problem would be solved. He doesn't have a job and hasn't since he quit Burger King some time back. He's done chore work for a friend's Uncle on a farm, but that's sporadic, smelly and disgusting chore work. Matter of fact, for almost everything he listed as being problematic, my answer was the same.

"Get a job, Wonderboy. A paycheck could fix that."

It upset him hearing me say that. I didn't want an argument so I changed the subject. The city called a couple of days ago and said they'd received complaints on the state of the yard at Blade and Wonderboy's house. They have to clean it up quick or we get fined.

"Have you finished cleaning up the yard?"

"Nope. I'm not touching it until Blade stops being a douche and helps. I shouldn't have to do it all myself."

"He's working a full-time job and paying YOUR part of the bills. Does that not count for something?"

"He doesn't always pay my part and he never cleans the house PLUS HE DOESN'T TALK TO ME!! I'm not cleaning the yard by myself. Until he helps, I'M NOT DOING IT!"

"Wonderboy, if we get a fine and I have to pay it rather than buy groceries or pay a bill of my own, boy, you've never seen me as angry as I'd be over that. Get it done!"

As he was storming out of the house he stopped to say it wasn't fair for him to have to do everything and that he wasn't touching it. I was super quick to tell him he's living there flat f'n free and he'd better get it done. I haven't checked since but I'm sure he didn't do a thing. I can't afford to pay a fine so Babygirl and I are going to go over after school today and start cleaning it up. I figure with her there to help and if I take our wheelbarrow, it won't tear my knee up too badly carting stuff to the road and all. That yard is full of pits and holes and I detest walking across it when I can't see where I'm stepping. Mike said he'd take care of it when he got in but I'd rather us be able to spend time together here rather than seeing him only at dinner time because he's too busy cleaning up messes he shouldn't have to clean up. It really sucks when he's gone a week or two and then, when he does get home for a couple of days, his time is spent elsewhere because my boys won't tend to things they should be tending to. Plus I think he's hoping to stay out until Thanksgiving as he got a speeding ticket a week or so ago in California and HOLY COW at the fine truckers get for speeding there! $460 if we pay it before the 29th of this month. They add another $581 if we pay it after the 29th. WTH? It was for ten miles over. Not like he was doing 100 mph or something. We do not have that kind of dosh in our budget so he's getting a lawyer as lawyers are cheaper and, hopefully, they can get it knocked down to something doable. So, anyway, we can't afford a fine because the boys didn't clean up their yard.

Here's a funny. A happy Wonderboy and Blade just came over. They've gone grocery shopping together and are on their way to put up the food. And then clean the yard. I really hope they get it done as my knees are killing me today. Fingers crossed!

I have no title and I'm ok with that

2011-11-08T18:56:00.000-06:00

School went a little better today, that is, after getting off to a rough start. I am going to admit something that I may or may not have admitted before. I can't read aloud worth a shit. Really. I see breaks and rivers and get my tongue wrapped around my ankle and make up words and ....

IT. IS. AWFUL!

I did a lot of reading aloud today, however. Reading from our Biology textbook was NOT fun. Why do classifications and names have to have so many letters?? Reading Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart" I rocked. After I stopped and restarted it as, for whatever reason, I adopted every spooky voice I've ever heard when I read the first few lines. Like, every next word had a new voice. I had *just* gotten off the phone with my sister who'd called to tell me her son stole our mom's car in the middle of the night and wrecked it. With some girl in the car with him. Oh, and he doesn't yet have his license. So yeah. My mind was elsewhere when I started reading Poe and that's my excuse for the weird and creepy voice thing.

Oh. I also have no theme for this post and I'm ok with that, too.

Windows tells me on every single boot up that my copy of Java isn't compatible with my version of Windows. It pops a link to the site for Java where I'm told I have the correct version. Maddening! I wonder if this alleged error is why my computer sometimes throws massive fits when trying to listen live to a couple of podcasts I like. I had a HELL of a time trying to listen to the GW podcast earlier tonight (couldn't get the chat room to work until the podcast was over) and even had my computer melt down into a hard crash twice. I can always listen once they've got the podcast online but I like to hear them LIVE! Not see that it's going, hear snips, freeze up, crash, force a reboot and then repeat. Sometimes it actually works and I can listen just fine. And chat. Not tonight, though. And I'm not sure how to fix it as Java doesn't want me to download anything since I have the right version.

Did I mention it's maddening?

I decided to make iced coffee today and found myself at a huge brain-fart juncture trying to remember how many cups a pound of ground coffee equaled. Look it up. Confusing to say the least. A pound of coarse ground = 4 and 3/4 cups. Fine ground = 5 cups. Mine is coarse ground and tomorrow I'll have an awesome homemade coffee flavored frap! Takes me a few weeks to drink it all (because, as it turns out, I do have a dab of self-control) and OMG is it AWESOME! And soothing!

I have an issue with Moxxie. She bites Ghost on the back of the neck (and sometimes on her throat) and drags her around the house. Ghost doesn't cry or fight her and so far, she's only slobbery as a result of this. If I can't get her to stop doing that I think we'll need to find a cat-free home for her. And that will break my heart into a thousand tiny shards! I think she doesn't realize how rough she plays. She's just nine weeks old, but. Still. That has to stop! I've had to stop her rough-housing with the cats and Nugget the last week. She'll listen but as soon as I turn my back .... Not sure how best to handle this but today I sent her for a walk to work out some of that overly hyped energy.

I don't think we're getting any snow tonight and that's totally cool with me! As long as Christmas is white I'm happy. Think I'm going to bed early tonight. Been exhausted physically and mentally all day today. Here's to hoping tomorrow is met with a bit more energy.

Busy day

2011-11-07T17:43:00.000-06:00

Mostly had a lot of busy work today and, ironically, was thankful for it. I'd been checking the weather periodically to see what was coming up as I'd read a rather cryptic tweet from a local weatherman about new data coming in, saying he'd have 'news' for us soon. Sure enough we went from a forecast of no accumulation for tomorrow night to one of 2" to 4" inches. It won't stay as we do warm up enough to melt it off (not to mention the ground is still too warm ... weird fall here for sure) but it spurred me to finally clean my front porch off.

Well, actually, I'd only planned on sweeping the potting soil someone knocked over off if I'm honest. I didn't stop with the porch. I put all the bikes up, the mower trailer (which, I used to push around here and there to pick up all Mike's potting containers, soil bags, .... ), cleared the back patio, .... I worked a good hour and a half. My back was SCREAMING in protest by the time I finally said, 'good enough!'. My porch and yard look so much better now! I hurt like hell but it made me so incredibly happy to not only have a clean porch and yard, but to have occupied my overly exhausted mind that I feel like a dweeb. I was going to reward myself with the most awesome thing to have ever hit the face of the Earth. A Marie Calendar's Chicken Pot Pie. I purposely linked to that particular article because even though I totally comprehend it's not the best thing to eat for your health, OMG IT IS AWESOME SAUCE! I <3 them with pink fluffy hearts!!! I don't care if they're bad for you. Really don't.

Anyway, that didn't happen. Mike, who'd left out early this afternoon found he had a few hours extra and came in for supper. He won't eat them because he does care that they aren't nutritious so I boiled some long-grain brown rice in broth and seasonings, added a can of Tex-Mex diced tomatoes (which is how it came to be way to spicy for me) and once it was completely done, threw in some tuna, a bit of parmesan and diced boiled egg. He took one look at it and with wide eyes filled with horror, asked,

"What the hell is that?!?!"

But you know what? It was good. I was the only one to have a problem with it (again, way to spicy for me ... my stomach is still on fire). So. Guess what I'm having for breakfast in the morning? Yep. A chicken pot pie. Me loves them!

Speaking of breakfast, I made grits in the microwave for supper the other night. They freaking exploded! Like, I had more on the inside of my microwave than I did in the bowl when it was done. I've never had that happen before in my LIFE! 'Twasn't happy in the least bit, either. I believe Wonderboy's words were, 'Mom did that??' Yah. Surprised me, too.

I think I'm going to finally do the potato soup I'd planned on having last week tomorrow night. I'm in serious need of comfort food but I'm nervous because (and I may have mentioned this before?) I've lost 30 pounds by not eating so much comfort food. It took me a year to do it because I don't exercise much and all I've really done was watch portion size, cut out bread for the most part and tried to be sensible with my choices (no low or no-fat stuff, full fat for full and real vitamins/nutrients/...). Some lose that much in a month but, I don't care. I did it and now I need to make sure I keep doing it. I'm afraid if I really try and lose weight, I'll gain it all back and then some. Still, I need comfort food and I don't like the idea of depriving myself. I tend to do the 'endlessly snacking' thing when I do. I'd like to go down another six pounds by the end of the year (yeah, big on major goals aren't I?) but if I don't, that's ok, too. As long as I don't gain this back I'll be happy.

Tomorrow Babygirl and I start school again after a four-day break. She needed it, as did I. The break. This week I'm pulling back on the load without sacrificing anything. Maybe I was pushing too hard after all. We're starting a unit on Edgar Allan Poe and I've got her Kindle loaded with all of his works (they were free! Woot!) and she's excited about that. Send good thoughts our way, please. Hoping for a much easier week!

Massive flip flops may cause major critical confusion

2011-11-06T10:09:00.000-06:00

I've been flip-flopping all weekend on this issue with sending Babygirl back to school. I feel it's a have to. I'm so totally against it, however, that my chest is so tight I'm not sure it could get any tighter. Yet, it does. My reasons for wanting to home school her in the first place still stand. She will not get the education she needs in public school, here, to get in and make it in a big university. There's too much that isn't pushed, too much that's swept under a rug. Reasons are varied but I have no doubt they include population/general fund. I know for a fact there are teachers here who want more, want to be able to do more but their hands are tied with the status quo. I know this because I've talked to them. In whispers, some, because they're afraid of causing ripples. They need their jobs, too, after all. Who doesn't? Remember when I blogged about how the 'solution' for a very young "problem child" was for the parent to lie, say he was threatening to harm himself, so he could be locked up in a mental facility and out of the school's hands? Yeah, this was told to the parent. These are the people we're supposed to trust our children's education with. People who, when they run into something they aren't expecting or can't handle, they try and pass it off. Hide it. Shove it in a closet (and that, literally, happened to this so-called "problem" kid). And they get away with it because no one stands up to them.

There's no writing program. They watch movies to learn about classic works of literature rather than read the book. Movies are used a lot to take up class time for some teachers. None of my kids were made to read Moby Dick, The Scarlet Letter, they weren't taught who T. S. Elliot was or Hemingway or Dickens. They watched movies to learn about Edgar Allan Poe and learned he was just an alcoholic. How do we expect our children to learn to communicate their ideas, what's in their head, with words instead of fights or pranks or whatnot if we don't teach them how to express themselves? I'll stop with this here because I'm so angry I'm shaking. I could rant on and on all day about what all the schools here lack that, at one time, I thought was a given.

Nope. I'm going to do one more. When we moved here we were told by kids AND GROWN ASS ADULTS that for Halloween the local channels showed a lot of Stephen King movies because this area is so proud that he's their representative. THIS is who they were referring to. I kid you not. I'm not saying everyone here is that misguided or ignorant. But how does that happen?

I'm angry.

I don't think going back to public school is best for Babygirl in the long run. I do, however, fully agree that it'll solve her need to be around her peers everyday. I tried talking to her today to see if we could find a middle ground that would allow for home school to continue, albeit, differently than what it is now, and give her more time and activities with her friends. She didn't want to even discuss it. Her heart is set on going back to public school. She has slammed that door shut. Part of me says to give and do public school. Another part says to be the parent and not allow her to rule the house. Where is that line between a quick-fix (if that exists) and doing what's best? And which side should I be standing on? Or, rather, which side is which? I don't have a clue. I want to push for middle ground where she gets some of what she's demanding but not risk her education.

I don't know what to do. I need a manual.

I suck

2011-11-04T14:52:00.000-05:00

Monday I'm going to talk to the school about putting Babygirl back in public school. I don't like this. She wants it so badly, though. She says it's too hard, the curriculum we're using. I am having huge problems explaining things the right way. That three page paper? Oh my word at the fits it caused. I never told her I wanted her to do a 10 page report next unit. I know she can do it. She doesn't. It's causing major problems. She's so convinced she can't do "my" work, she's depressed and we're moving backwards at a fast clip. I don't like the public schools here. They don't push to excel. I don't know what else to do though. Rock/hard place. So I'm giving on this one and will see what it takes to get her back in school. Very upsetting and I can't go into the deciding factor yet but it's really fucking huge. As much as I hate hate HATE it, going to see how fast we can get her back in.

I hope, sincerely hope that once she's back in she'll let me work with her on her writing. She's so creative and slap full of ideas but she hasn't yet figured out how to write for anyone but herself. When she does it's like a list in paragraph format. I can help her with this, find ways to convey your story to an audience rather than just yourself. There's nothing wrong with writing for yourself but when you're trying to reach out, you have to go about it differently. So maybe she'll be open to that once she's back in public school. When you have something you need to say but can't find a way to communicate it, you feel isolated, ignored, ... alone. I don't want her to feel that way. Would give anything to prevent that if I could.

Midget porn can lead to cocaine addiction

2011-11-03T15:25:00.000-05:00

Babygirl had to write a three page report on any government official of her choosing. Stroked to wide, she had a major problem on deciding who to write on so I suggested Iowa's former Governor, Chet Culver. During the run up to the elections she came home from school almost every_single_day going on and on and ON about how Culver should win. I figured it'd be a breeze for her since her teachers thumped for him so much in school.

So she set about to gather bits and pieces of his history to build her outline with.

We took a break to eat and watch a little tv during this. She'd closed her browser and when she went back to it she looked for the Wikipedia (say what you will, I know, I get it, so does she, but I like it enough) page she'd been reading earlier. Only, something wasn't right. Here's the link.

http://uncyclopedia.wikia.com/wiki/Chet_Culver

She made it all the way down to where it states that Culver killed someone after watching the Broadway hit, Rent. She came to me and asked if I'd listen to the article because she had a question. Her only question was ... 'Could he really be elected Governor if he murdered someone?' There were more than a few spots where I tried to interrupt her reading because, hello??? When she was done I asked if that had been her first clue, about the brutal slaying. She said yes but made it sound like a question. I tried to explain to her that the site was a spoof of Wiki but I was laughing so hard .... Still, I'm not sure she'll ever believe anything she reads online again.

Oh, and yeah, she asked me what midget porn was. Oh joy.

*here's hoping I don't pay for making that my title. just couldn't resist it ...

Round up

2011-10-31T08:24:00.000-05:00

Mike has been on the road for most of the kids' lives and that gets to him. He wants to spend more time with his family and after thinking about it, I figured we should do a family dinner when he's in. Bear has issues with money and keeping his car on the road, or having gas money, so I don't expect him to come in for them but the other three? Not too awfully hard to organize a dinner where we can all come. Now, before I officially jinx myself into next year, that all depends on what day he gets in and when the boys have to work. That said, we had a family get together last weekend and I think I did pretty good with the meal.

I slow cooked a rump roast on a bed of celery and covered it with tomatoes (and a few jalapenos for good measure). It was screaming for mashed taters but I went with a big pot of northern beans instead, roasted onions, deviled eggs and, for the kids, glazed carrots. Everyone seemed happy with the food but I found out later Mike had been wanting mashed rutabaga. Next time! I think I was the only one disappointed. I didn't like the roast or the onions. I think my olive oil has gone rancid as they had a funny taste.

Saturday I heard some serious snoring coming from my right where the dog bed is. I had thought Moxxie was in the bed and turned, in surprise, to look.

Seeing Rudolph in the trash can surprised me, but it was Nugget in the bed. We've had Rudolph for for_evah and Nugget often chews on him, dealing no damage whatsoever. It's not that Nugget can't hurt you with his teeth. He can! I've had more than a few black or purple bruises on the bottom of my butt cheeks (that's as high as he can jump) but he never seems intent on harming our most favorite reindeer. Moxxie, however, killed the poor stuffed animal in less than a week. She chewed the end of his paw off. She also rolls Moe, our great big fat cat and tries to roll Nugget out of what she thinks is HER dog bed.

When she's not trying to pull the bed out from under him she often just puts a paw or two in it while he's occupying "her" bed. That sock? Had been on my foot the morning I snapped this picture. She grabbed it by the toes and ran. Silly, Moxxie. She's as big as Nugget now and has graduated to a bigger harness. The one she's wearing in this picture was actually Bella's.

And here's one more picture, just because. No theme, odd assortment, why not? This is what you see when you're at Squealer's house. Most barns around here have 'quilts' on them. A long time ago they used these quilts to send messages to people passing through, looking for shelter, or, I've heard, to tell the farmers when it was time for dinner. I like this barn best out of all I've seen.

(Click the picture to enlarge)

Also does a pretty good job of showing you this part of Iowa. Lots of sky, lots of corn, trees only around a structure (as a windblock) and not a lot of anything else. Be very thankful it doesn't convey the smell ....

I am so confused

2011-10-26T05:28:00.000-05:00

Cooking for my crew is becoming more and more confusing and, sometimes, leaves me on the verge of tears lately as I keep goofing on what this one wants or that one doesn't want. The levels of frustration are growing with the upcoming holiday meals and I just don't know what to do. Blade was considering just skipping them as he, being a vegetarian, doesn't want anything that's had chicken broth in it. Babygirl doesn't want meat as she, too, is a vegetarian but she'll concede on the broth. Mike is tired of chicken broth and wants me to make either pork or beef broth. That hits Blade though so that's a no. Mike also doesn't want corn, carrots, potatoes, ... any sugary or starchy food. He's on a diet and is restricting all sugars, be them good, bad, natural or whatnot. He'll draw the line around sweet potato casserole, his absolute favorite dish of all time. Aside from that, however, he doesn't want it.

He came through Sunday evening long enough to eat here (and drop Babygirl off) before getting back on the road. I worked my ass off cooking a great big mistake. He ate it but the disappointment was so heavy you could have cut it with a knife. I'd chopped a ton of celery, carrots, onions, tomatoes and cooked them up with black beans and ground beef. All of that went under the homemade mashed potatoes I whipped up and then in the oven. Cottage pie, of sorts, has always been a family favorite. I don't know why I made it given the root veg (sugar!) and beef (Babygirl!) that they didn't want. It wasn't until I mentioned my own disappointment at not having had corn to go in it that I realized how screwed up my supper was. Mike took offense that I'd even considered adding corn (sugar!) to an already disastrous (to his diet) dinner. Babygirl was super upset I'd made a full pan of it as that meant left overs and she WOULD NOT eat them again.

I'd only wanted to make something they love. Or, as I know now, used to love. I didn't stop to think about the root veggies or Babygirl not eating meat. Sometimes she does, once in a while. The whole thing left me in tears as it seems that everything I cook here lately when it comes to Mike, Blade and Babygirl is just flat wrong. I'm not being considerate they say when it's really me just not thinking in current time. When everyone's here, or when Mike is home, I go for what's always been family favorites. Because I want to please. How ironic.

I've found what I think will be an acceptable substitute for the broth in my holiday cooking, minus the potatoes of course, and will try and be considerate of the needs of my family. It's just so very frustrating. I never meant to slight them and I'm certainly not cooking to thwart anyone's diet or preference or whatnot. I was going to skip the broccoli casserole for Thanksgiving and make it for Christmas to 1) do something different, 2) cut down on costs and 3) make Thanksgiving a bit more healthy but that's a no go. Bear told me Pear looks forward all year to my broccoli casserole and if I don't make it, she'll not want to come. When I told him I was still going to serve broccoli, steamed, he said no. Last year I made homemade cream of celery for it for both Thanksgiving and Christmas and it was an even bigger hit than years past when I've made it with the tinned stuff. So I guess I should have realized it was a 'must have'.

Years ago I cooked for 8-12+ people every single night. There were times when I just wanted to cry at the thought of cooking. I feel that way now but for a whole different reason. Suppose it's time to stop being selfish and just figure this thing out.

... What?

2011-10-24T19:32:00.000-05:00

Babygirl did not feel good today. She has been feeling not so good most of the weekend and hasn't gotten much sleep. Not for lack of trying! Just wasn't happening for her. Today she sat down to do her Spanish lessons and fell asleep. I normally leave her very much unattended during these lessons because they're done on her laptop via a headset and mic and, I don't know much of anything about the language. The software tracks her progress and not only reports back to me, it won't allow her to continue to the next lesson until she's mastered the previous one. Fail-safe, people.

I had gone to the kitchen for a refill on my tea and decided to check in on her on my way back. Not an unusual thing for me to do but what happened after that was down right strange and funny. She was asleep on her desk and on my walking in the room, shot straight up in her seat. The look on her face was pure wide-eyed panic. I asked her if it was easier to do her lessons while she slept and she answered me. In rapid succession gibberish. Perplexed, I took a step towards her and replied with a " ... what?? ..." I got the same super fast gibberish as before. Several times. Every time I asked 'what' she'd fire back at me. I believe this is a very close phonetic of what she was saying.

"Eee esta seeta vor may seeta"

Wonderboy suggested "Eee esta" may have been "Fiesta" but was at a loss as to what the other words could have been, or what they meant. If she hadn't looked so frightened the entire time it wouldn't have been so hilarious. She has no recollection of it and asked if I made that up. I didn't. I just wish I'd had my Droid on me as then you'd have a video to watch.

Today was just such an off and sleepy day for her I canned school for the day and made her promise she wouldn't sleep-talk to me again. She's been asleep for hours now so I have higher hopes for tomorrow. (well, today now isn't it?)

Nugget's worst nightmare

2011-10-23T20:09:00.000-05:00

Grainy Droid pictures taken in a dark room lit only by my television screen. So, pardon the quality. I had to act quickly before Nugget abandoned ship. And he did as soon as he fully realized what happened. Here's Nugget's worst nightmare come true.

Moxxie has officially mastered jumping up on the love seat, aka ... Nugget's safe place when Moxxie has gotten on his last nerve. Now she can get on that nerve and jump. Hard.

I felt bad for him, proud of her for figuring this out and maybe a little bad for laughing. It wasn't long at all before he was sitting beside me on the couch watching her jump up beside him. He shrieked at her and jumped off the couch. She chased him around the coffee table, into the dining room and then around through the foyer, living room and back into the dining room. I believe it was the third circle through to the dining room when he turned on his heels and ran AT her. I think he was trying to be macho and scary. She seemed to love it and immediately jumped on his back. Poor Nugget. His solace will never be again now that Moxxie is growing up. I feel his pain!

Familiar rumbling of an uber-goober

2011-10-22T19:12:00.000-05:00

I was watching the episode of GSFJ where Gene and Shannon went to a marriage boot camp. I, as they remarked, figured it was not much more than fluff and I couldn't have been more wrong. At least, for the way watching it effected me. There was a session where they each had to talk to a picture of their parents, picture each, not together, and tell the picture what they resented and loved most about their mom or their dad. Watching Gene crumble was tough but I was a little distracted by that familiar rumble in the pit of my stomach.

Mike and I were talking just the other day about how you'd think that once people have been so far removed from their childhood that they've lived more years as an adult than they did as a kid, that they'd figure out it's way past time to stop blaming your this or that and take responsibility for your own actions. I don't care what your whatever did or didn't do. You're in your 40s. Grow up. You know?

But there I sat feeling a bit of anger all over again. On the upside, it was just a bit. Not all-consuming. Didn't make me want to 'do' anything to show how angry I felt. It was just a rumble and on feeling it, I was instantly disgusted with myself. I'm closer to 41 than I am 40. This July marked 21 years Mike and I have been married. That's 21 years with someone who chose me, loved me and did whatever he could to let me know it. Still, the rumble asked why I never think I'm good enough. Who put that in my head. I turned the rumble down and the tv up because, really, who cares anymore.

Tonight I got a surprise 'thank you' in a public setting. My first reaction was 'how'd ... what?' and then it hit me they'd basically said 'thanks'. And I'm a goober enough for that to have brought a tear to my eye. Just because someone noticed me. I've been thinking the last couple of hours about what that means. Outside of me being an uber-goober. I don't know why it's suddenly so all important to know that someone notices me but. It is. Maybe it's in part because three of my kids are grown and out of my house. I'm not needed, nor wanted, nearly as much as I used to be. Sometimes at all. When Mike comes in after being gone a week or two he has a task list in his head and that usually has to come first. Things like getting the house and yard ready for winter. Or fixing one of the trucks again because the boys are freaking ROUGH with vehicles. In my head though, it feels like it's 'over me' or 'more important than me'. Uber-goober, remember? Other times I think it's because Iowa stinks so I don't leave my house if I don't have to (esp in the fall when they're spreading the crap on the fields!!) and people are very closed off here. Nothing like folks in the South. So I don't mingle much. That, as much as I don't care 99% of the time, sometimes makes me feel alone and unnoticed.

I think it's way more than any of that could ever be, however. I think it's me. Sometimes it's protective ... if I don't let you close you can't hurt me. But mostly it's that I think I'm not good enough because I know all the crazy horrible stuff I've done in the past. I let it haunt me I guess. I use it as a reason for rather than a life lesson. I can go back to my childhood and point fingers all day long and never miss. But I'm in my 40s now. I know what it's like to love and be loved. I don't know why I can't just completely let go of the anger but, really, I think it's just me beating myself down. I've said before that truth can never hurt, it's our perception based on our own experiences that do us in. I do myself in. Maybe if I could ease up off myself the rumble would go away?

I've got some news

2011-10-22T07:10:00.000-05:00

And I'm not going to try and build up to it. Just gonna say it. Pear is pregnant ... I'm going to be a grandma.

She hasn't been to the doctor yet but she thinks she's around 4-5 weeks in. I explained the importance of prenatal vitamins and folic acid when pregnant so Bear's gotten her started on those. I went searching on Amazon for the book Mike's employer gave me when I was pregnant with Blade and found one that's rated higher. It should be here this week and once it is, I'll send it on to the college. I'd say first babies are full of new experiences (being pregnant with) but I think my third pregnancy was the hardest and most full of surprises. Babygirl was originally a twin and after loosing her twin at 5 1/2 months, they didn't think I'd be able to carry her to term. 'Twas a rough one indeed and although I absolutely do NOT regret it, it was the reason I had my tubes tied. Wonderboy's pregnancy was full of migraines and Braxton-hicks contractions. Oh, and gall-bladder problems that, as my doctor suspected, vanished once I had him. Anyway, there's so much that can happen when you're pregnant I thought Pear may appreciate being able to read a bit about it. The book I had was a godsend for sure.

We're assuming the baby will be due somewhere in the May/June area which, if that is true, works out perfectly for them. She graduates this Spring and, according to Bear, wants to start work in her field after the baby is born. He's thinking of taking a year off from college to get a job and better support his new family. I asked him to really think it through and put finishing his degree first as a priority. I'm afraid he'd never get back around to finishing his college should he take that year or so off, no matter how badly he wanted to. He flip-flopped a lot about whether he should try and finish where he is now, move on to Iowa State as per his plans or change degrees altogether. He was more like the Bear of three years ago than not while he was here last week. Complete with the Eeyore face. He's depressed and scared and it really shows. At the same time, he's excited they're having a baby. World of confusion he is.

Right now my biggest wish is that the baby is born healthy, Pear's pregnancy is uneventful and they find a way to make this work without Bear dropping out of college. (that's 3 wishes but I'm ok with that) He asked me if I was scared when we found out I was pregnant with him. I answered him with complete honesty ... a big nope given I was never pregnant with him. I was hoping that would break the tension I was feeling from him and he did chuckle when it hit him I'm his step-mom. Was I scared when I found out I was pregnant with Blade? Shitless. I think it's a very natural reaction to the unknown of starting a family. He hasn't told his real mom yet and said he may wait a bit. I think that's wise. I don't know that she'd do anything but I know she'd promise the world and that's stressful. She has the best intentions but never any pull-through. Always empty promises and he just doesn't need that right now.

I have no clue as to how Pear's mom reacted to the news as she never made it here last week. Her mom got up early on the morning Bear was to go and get her and took Pear back to college. He thinks her mom won't do much of anything either. I don't know her well enough to say but it's her first grandchild, too, so I'd think she'd want to throw a shower or something. If no one is going to throw her a shower spring break would be a great time for us to work together, Bear and us, to pull one off. I'll bake the goodies as long as he decorates them. (I sucketh much at decorating!) That's a ways off so we'll see what happens.

As of right now, he and Pear will be living here next summer. We have the room and I don't mind as long as they help out with the food and help clean up. They want to know the sex of the baby, said they aren't about the 'mystery' thing. I told him that with Babygirl I had a ton of ultrasounds given the problems I had with her pregnancy, and even had them weekly the last couple of months. They told us she was a boy from four months pregnant right up until a week before she was born. That's why she was dressed like a boy for the first six weeks of her life. You just never really know, do you?

Family time

2011-10-17T21:18:00.000-05:00

Bear came in today as he's on a break from college and will stay through Wednesday night or Thursday morning. It's a-gotten rather nippy here so I knew I wanted to make my creamy tomato soup for supper. Since I had the stuff to make a big double batch, I did, thinking I'd have plenty left over to freeze a bunch of it. I invited Blade and Wonderboy over and we had a great supper and chat but I've only enough left over for one meal for Babygirl and me. It's in the freezer though so it'll be there when we want it. I figured with Bear here it was a 'special occasion' so I used heavy cream instead of half-n-half like I normally do. In light of that, I only had one bowl. I was both shocked and absolutely elated to see the boys have several bowls each. Always makes me feel good when they love my cooking that much!

Bear is going to Pear's tomorrow to bring her here and she'll stay until they go back to college. Planning on boiling a chicken (seriously need to make more broth! didn't have any for my soup tonight ... shocking!) and then chunking it up to go into pintos and brown rice. Told the boys they were invited for tomorrow night, too, so I want to get as much gas out of the beans as I can (Wonderboy!). I have a few peppers and jalapenos left from the garden so I figure they'll give the rice a nice kick. May cut up a few tomatoes to add to it as well. It sounds awesome in my head so I'm hoping it tastes as good tomorrow night.

Bear and Babygirl looked over her Geometry today. Guess freaking what?!? It stumped Bear, too. I don't know what was wrong with any of the seemingly thousands of ways we all learned Geometry. If it worked for us, why change it up? He said he's going to hit Google for help tomorrow and he's sure he can teach us how to do what they're wanting. He did see something that I didn't when reading over the material and it made a lot of sense. No clue why I haven't picked up on that with the millions of times I've read through it. Very frustrating.

I did some research into crate training today and found out I'm not only doing it wrong, I shouldn't even be attempting it yet with Moxxie. She turned six weeks on Sunday. You shouldn't try before a puppy is nine weeks. When you start you use toys and bits of kibble to attract them to the crate but you have to gradually build up to six hours crated as young puppies just don't have the bladder control yet. Why didn't I think of that?? I think the youngest puppy we've ever had, outside of a litter StarDust had, was three months. There's a HUGE difference between six weeks old and three months! So I'm not going to attempt the crate training for a while. I will, however, try the puppy food and toys in the crate and see how she takes to going in there on her own for a bit.

It feels really good having the kids around. I just wish Mike could be here. Him not being here leaves a big gaping hole when the rest of us are together. He's in California currently waiting to be unloaded later today. No clue where he'll be headed after that.

Crate training is HARD

2011-10-17T08:13:00.000-05:00

My head. Yesterday I had a most fierce migraine that's still lingering enough today to be totally annoying. I think my headache is in part brought on by my overly vocal hound dog. (she's actually a lab/border collie mix that masquerades as a pack of hound dogs at night) I've been trying to crate train Moxxie but last night, she broke me. I let her out after nearly three hours of crying. Crying so loud I was half afraid the neighbors would call the police. Crying so persistent I felt it in my head. Everytime she'd pause I'd almost tearfully thank God himself only to hear her start again.

Oh. My. Ghod. Was. It. Loud!

What made me get up and take her out of the crate was the extra noise. She was rattling that crate so hard she'd unlatched it, only she didn't know she'd unlatched it and so continued to shake, rattle and cry. Her crate is in our dining room, my bedroom is upstairs. She either opened an alien conduit to better pipe her loud howls and cries directly to my eardrums or this dog has an outstanding set of lungs. I'm going to go get Nugget's crate from the boys house today and try it tonight. I may also put Nugget in with her as she just can't handle being alone. Hopefully he'll still love me if I do that. When he's had enough of Moxxie he'll go get on my roll pillow on the love seat because she can't jump up there. Yet.

Yet, Mr. Nugget. Yet!

Mike pointed out that we've never crate trained a puppy this young, nor have we taken a puppy from litter mates before. We've always gotten 'the last one' and, typically, the pup has been the last one for a few weeks. Moxxie MUST have someone with her. That someone can be a person, Nugget or one of the cats. (Moe puts up with her) On the upside, she's not biting quite as much so there's that. And she's the sweetest most cuddly puppy ... when she's not biting. When she tires out though, that's it. She falls over asleep and even if you pick her up, she sleeps.

The lack of sleep the last few nights, thanks to Moxxie and me trying to crate train her, I'm sure is the biggest cause of this headache that doesn't want to go away. I'm going to look for advice online to see if I'm doing something wrong. I've never had a dog cry that loud or for that long before when training.

Not been my week

2011-10-15T17:16:00.000-05:00

Unless this was National Pain week. If so, I rocked it hard.

Let's see. I ...

Cut through my thumbnail when trying to slice mushrooms.

I lifted the top of my thumbnail to see if it was really in two pieces.

I slammed said thumb, hard, into the fridge, almost sending me to my knees in response.

I cut my face not far from my eye, with a fingernail, while bopping a balloon around with Babygirl. Made that sucker bleed.

I nearly face planted tripping over Moxxie, Nugget and Screech. Landed on my bad knee. Still swollen days later.

I walked into the kitchen doorway while looking behind me while I walked. I R Smart like that.

In an attempt to scratch my face, I somehow jabbed UP my nose hard enough to cause it to bleed.

Moxxie bit my mouth. (took something away from her and she lunged for it)

Moxxie bit my big toe hard.

Nugget bit my hand when I was trying to free his tail from Moxxie's mouth.

Don't know what I did but the arch in my right foot is freaking killing me.

Less than two hours of this week left so I'm hoping to complete them unscathed. Anymore than I am already that is.

In other news, I made the best bomb-diggety oyster stew tonight. It was so good I decided later on to have seconds and found I'd left the burner on simmer rather than turn it off. Guess what? Oyster gravy is pretty darn good, too! Next week will be better. Moxxie has only bitten my toes once since I started this post so I'm taking that as a good sign.

Jump-thud-kind-of-run

2011-10-13T08:44:00.000-05:00

Moxxie enjoys chewing on toes. And ankles, bottoms of pant legs, socks, fingers, my hair, ... She is starting to get the hang of going down the steps but sometimes, when we take her out, she still sits on the porch edge waiting to be carried down them. She doesn't have a single problem going UP them, however. She's very clumsy on her feet so it's hilarious to watch her try and pounce on something. She does this jump-thud-run thing and when she pounces, her timing is off and she lands just in front of whatever it is she's trying to pounce on to. Funny stuff.

Mike called Bear yesterday to find out what time on Halloween he and Pear were planning to get married. They've changed their minds and have decided to wait. I had e-mailed him the night I'd found out they were getting married. I wanted to give advice on things to consider and one of the things I asked was about health insurance. Right now, he's still on our policy and will be until he's 26 (if I understand how that works, correctly). Getting married kicks him off our policy (not our choice) and he'd have to go about getting insurance some other way. That was the main reason they decided to hold off as he needs the insurance given he still needs that hip surgery. My intent absolutely was NOT to talk them out of it but to try and help make sure they were considering things that needed to be, well, considered. So I'm feeling a bit odd as I totally didn't see that coming. It's certainly been quite the week.

I'd looked through a few channels yesterday, looking for movies I could record with our DVR. The Hound of Baskervilles was playing on some channel so I set it up to record. Seriously enjoyed watching it last night. I thought I'd read the book when I was a kid but nothing rang a bell when watching the movie so I guess I hadn't. Looking forward to doing so now, even though Mike said the movie pretty much stuck with the book exactly. Going to try and get Babygirl to watch it as well and then, hopefully, get her interested in reading a bit of Sherlock Holmes.

And while I'm on the subject of tv, could someone PLEASE vote Russell's nephew, Brandon, OFF? Every other time he's on the screen he's crying. Again. And/or talking about how he's not like Russell (keep talking about how you're different, dude. Only sounds like you're name dropping). I'm so over him. Ugh. Enjoying Survivor otherwise but really really REALLY want Brandon gone. Never wanted Russell gone. Guess that makes me evil?

Double posting with an icky picture

2011-10-12T08:18:00.000-05:00

Things to note before seeing the icky picture of my thumb (or not).

I had just taken the bandage off my thumb, hence the 'looks like I've an 85 year old wrinkly thumb' look.

My thumb is NOT that ginormous.

The cut is sealed now. Woot.

I need to clean the leaky stuff but it's a bit to sensitive to scrub hard. Washing with peroxide atm. No soap yet.

If I lift the end of my thumbnail, the cut part lifts up almost all the way across the red line.

The pressure under my nail crack is tremendous.

I will not be lifting it again. Ever. Dumb idea.

My mirror needs cleaning.

I also really need to brush my hair. Gnarly.

Luckily the focus was on my thumbnail so my hair is blurry. You can thank me for that later.

My new puppy cried loudly when she was on the other side of the bathroom door. She stopped when I let her in the bathroom.

I've removed the antler-like thingies sticking up from the other side of my thumb.

Be very very glad I didn't take a picture of the last time I cut my thumb like this. Was much worse!

Like, it was gaping like a Pac-Man mouth. Gross.

It takes a bit more pressure than I like to seal a cut. Neosporin helps I think.

I've since cleaned it a bit and am letting it dry out before putting another bandage on it.

Any idea how much you bang your thumb throughout the day? No? Cut it and you'll see.

I've realized I normally use that thumb for my space bar. Hurts much.

Remember those joke pages with the 948 kagillion boxes you had to press 'yes' or 'ok' on to see whatever was at the end? I feel like that's what this list is turning into.

I would snip it if I cared enough.

Snip is a bad choice of words, considering.

I have a cute picture of Nugget and Moxxie (settled on her name). Want to see it?

She took over his pet bed. He doesn't seem to mind.

If you're reading me in a reader, putting that picture in before the thumb picture didn't help push it down the screen (out of sight), did it?

I'm not squeemish (or fluent in how to correctly spell things) but some are and I'm not sure how much space it takes to knock the thumb pic down enough.

I suppose if you're still reading you won't be grossed out. It's not that bad looking really now that it's sealed.

If you've got your browser set up like mine, with an emphasis on space rather than having tons of toolbars, then making this list longer won't help you either I bet.

So I'll stop and just post it. Lot of preamble for nothing major really.

Don't forget. My mirror needs cleaning. Still. Even after I took the picture. Dirty mirrors are my specialty. If it were clean it'd be streaked. Because that's how I roll.

[caption id="attachment_1284" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Click to enlarge to view the text on this."][/caption]

See, not so bad-looking. Woot! Wish it felt as good as it looks. Oh, and I did a preview of this post and the picture, on my screen, doesn't show unless you scroll all the way down. Double woot for a double post. (saying 'woot' reminds me of how we sounded as kids when mocking the train horns, so I say it a lot) Formatting is way weird on this one. Not sure I like the bullet feature.

The puppy with no name

2011-10-12T06:03:00.000-05:00

Mike saw an advert at the store last night for free puppies. These were listed as being black and white lab/border collie so he called the number. They had two or three left and he came home this morning with the sweetest little pup! She's very timid for now, has already made friends with Nugget and Croaker and loves to lay down with her head on our feet. Or legs, depending on if she's on the floor or sitting beside us. She also slobbers. A lot.

When we take her outside she LOVES to play in the leaves. We have a blow-up haunted house between the front walk and driveway that she has to check out every chance she gets. Her father is a chocolate lab, his father a solid black lab. She has three tiny white spots, two on her back paws and one under her head. Her paws suggest she's going to be a big dog as they're huge and wide. I don't really see a lot of border collie in her but I'm not that familiar with the breed.

Moe and Screech both stopped dead in their tracks on first sight of her, Croaker beat Nugget in sniffing her bottom, paws, tail, ears and nose (you'd think Croaker was a dog the way she kept sniffing her, was funny) and Ghost is acting like she's afraid. That surprised me the most because I'd assumed Ghost would have been the first to greet her.

Babygirl is a dork. I was in a hoodie and she's in a tank and shorts. It was like 52°F. That felt chilly after a week of summer temps! She also kept walking into my shots this morning ... When the trash man came down the road the puppy ran for cover. Guessing she doesn't like the sound of loud engines. We're still contemplating a name for her. I really want Moxxie, Babygirl (told Mike) she just wants to argue any name I pick (for fun ... what?) and Mike said he isn't getting in the middle of it. Ha. At one time we had it narrowed down to either Moxxie or Roxxie. A Twitter buddy suggested Roxxie, too, but by then I'd decided I like Moxxie best. Hopefully we'll have it figured out soon.

The top of my sock is wet with slobber as that's where the puppy is sleeping right now. Me thinks it's time to change socks.

I did it AGAIN!

2011-10-11T10:05:00.000-05:00

I woke this morning and, thanks to an incredible need to go pee, got up before anyone else. I read a bit of news before making coffee. It only took an hour or so to wake Babygirl and I found something that worked quickly. I yelled up, "Making pancakes. Come help!" She almost bounded down the steps. Girl loves her some pancakes. But when she walked into the kitchen and saw me washing potatoes, she became a tad confused. "Potatoes? I thought you said pancakes!!"

I had.

Mike has been watching what he eats, avoiding sugar and starches when he can. I wanted to make a breakfast that he could feel good about eating, one he'd actually like. Normally he makes potato pancakes but he does them from left over mashed potatoes. I found a recipe (or two) and between the two of them decided on how to go about making my latkes. He'd come downstairs (there went the surprise) to help as he'd heard me tell her I was making pancakes. Breakfast is not, nor has it ever been, my forte'. He'd stopped on the way home and picked up a few whole (non-refrigerated) mushrooms and asked if I wanted to add one to the potatoes. I grabbed my knife and set out to mince one. I complained that my knife was too dull. It was maybe a minute later that I was hopping across the kitchen on one foot, holding my hand while hollering "OMG! OMG! OMG! I f*n did it AGAIN!" He turned, looked, told me I was dripping blood on the floor and had me put the same exact thumb I tried to behead last December under cold running water.

It wasn't bleeding as profusely as last time but enough so that I had it down my hand, arm, the counter-top ... ew. Messy. I at first thought it had cut about an eighth of an inch into my thumbnail, again from the side, but after it stopped bleeding we saw that it cut all the way through about a fourth of an inch into my nail. I definitely cut deeper into (through) my nail this time but overall, it's not as bad as last time. Still, that sucker hurts.

On the upside I made four cabbage casseroles last night to use up the last of the heads of cabbage from our garden. I sent one home with Wonderboy, put two in the freezer and set one aside for supper tonight. So supper will be a breeze. Mike had to finish his surprise breakfast and I have to say, the ones with the mushroom were out of this world good. The ones without were good, too, just not as good. I can't believe I cut my thumb again, in the exact same spot no less. I want to take something to dull the throbbing but all I have is aspirin. It's stopped bleeding for the most part but I don't want it to start again, so I think ice is best. Going to lose a big chunk of thumb nail once it grows out a bit, more than I did before.

Oh wells.

Just an email

2011-10-10T22:12:00.000-05:00

Bear, my oldest, sent me an email to let me know he and Pear are getting married on Halloween. An email. Five days after she told her mom via email. I don't understand that. The most important day or your life, outside of the birth of your children of course, and you tell your moms via email? Bear didn't send the rest of us an email, just me. From what I gather, same for Pear and her family. I guess they're relying on us passing the message? I told my mom and I did it in person. Mike, the same. It was important enough to us, and they were important enough to us, to do so.

And that's where I am. I don't feel important enough. I don't feel like I rate enough. I feel insignificant. I called him and asked why he waited so long and then told me in an email. He said he just kept forgetting to get around to it. That's how he put it. It cut, and it cut hard. I'm supposed to be happy and overjoyed but I don't feel anything remotely close to that. I feel like a bad mom, one who didn't deserve a phone call. He borrows friends phones to call when he needs something or uses a phone at the college when he needs someone to talk to, someone to understand and give advice. So why couldn't he call to tell me himself? He's only an hour away and was able to get a friend to bring him here to pick up a check a couple of weeks ago. A phone call shouldn't be that hard. And, as I said, isn't when he needs something.

There's a part of me that's yelling in my head, saying it's stupid to cry. But I did. Several times. And if I'm honest, I'm doing it right now. There's another part that's telling me that whatever I did, I did it and there's no going back to fix it. I mean, I had to have done something to keep him from wanting to tell me in person/on the phone, right? Mike came in this evening. I thought I was going to go pick him up. I'd left the email up in my browser after I got off the phone with Bear and went to start supper. Was hoping it would get my mind off it, dry the tears so to speak, so I wouldn't be red faced and puffy eyed when Mike got home. He brought his truck home, however, and when I walked in the office for my tea he was sitting at my desk reading that damn email. Hurt him, too. When he looked up and saw me, he stood and just held me for awhile.

I've thought a lot this evening about how Mike sometimes talks to me about me always being the 'bad guy' parent. He wants me to be their friend, too. And I'd love that. But when it's just me here most of the time I have to go with 'Mom' first. I have to be the structure, the disciplinarian, the one to say no. Friend can come later ... Mom has to come first. I wasn't always that way. I wanted to be their best friend for the longest time. Then Bear hit puberty and became an alien-like teenager I no longer recognized. A good friend sat me down and told me that I had to be a parent first and over being a friend, else it would hurt us both in the end. It took me a bit to understand that but I get it now. It's how you protect and nurture your kids. People have always awed over how close Bear's and my relationship was. He'd tell me anything and everything. He calls when he's close to tears and just needs a shoulder. When he's having trouble deciding what to do. When he just needs his mom.

He didn't call me today, though. And I just don't get it.

Pear told someone on Facebook that they've been planning this for months. Months. I'm having a super hard time dealing with this. Right now it just hurts. Bad. I told him it was a crappy way to tell me. I really wanted to be able to say 'grats' but I couldn't. I don't feel it right now. I couldn't be the bigger person no matter how bad I wanted to. They're going to the Justice of the Peace but he didn't say when, just that it'll be on Halloween. I guess that means we're not invited either.

I want to think I'm being silly and making too much of this. If that's how you say it. My mom has always said that what comes around, goes around. She told me once that I would need her one day, that I'd miss her. I told her I couldn't miss what I never really had. She would say I'm getting what I deserve. I've sure dished some serious crap to her. Wonderboy told me that he'd never do that to me, that it's wrong and he would absolutely tell me himself. Babygirl came in the kitchen just to tell me she loved me and give me a hug while I was wrapping a couple of casseroles for the freezer. I thanked her, kissed her forehead and as she walked out, told myself to snap out of it and just get over it.

Then I cried again. I feel like a basket case.

Just skip it

2011-10-10T06:37:00.000-05:00

I've noticed that Babygirl does something that is very telling on a couple of fronts and, personally, mind boggling. If she doesn't know an answer or can't find / doesn't want to find an answer, she just leaves it blank and goes on to the next one. Take History, for example. Every few pages read will have a few questions to follow to make sure the kid is picking up on the material. The questions come directly from the 2-3 pages of text preceding them. I point out the ones she skipped and she'll offer an excuse and, this is the most frustrating for me, expect it to be perfectly ok that she didn't give an answer. I was looking through some of her notebooks from years past (have I mentioned I really need to clean my clutter?) and saw that this isn't new. AND, apparently, it's always been ok. That screams, to me, two things.

Either they are teaching from (or, to take) the end of year tests, they see no problem with a kid copping out or both. (I can't count but I don't care)

They being the schools, incase that wasn't clear.

Then again it could just be a case of 'oops, that slipped through the cracks'. Dunno. What I do know is that we were pushed to answer all the questions on daily work and homework. When it came to tests, we were told to skip the ones we didn't immediately know and go back to them once we'd finished the test. It's possible she's been told the same thing and doesn't remember or want to admit ...

Right now we're working on the branches of Government (should that be a capital G?) and for one exercise, she had to complete a cross-word puzzle. She did a couple of answers and left the rest unfinished until I sat down with her this weekend to make sure the answers were in the book. Ok, let me back up. I knew they were but she needed proof. Yeah, that sums it up. It didn't take long for me to find the answers but I didn't tell her what they were. That didn't work so I gave and told her 'the answer is on this page'. That worked a bit but what finally got the puzzle done was Wonderboy, on hearing me tell her to go finish it 'NOW!', offering to help. I think she would have been ok leaving the ones she 'couldn't find' blank. That upsets me greatly.

Geometry and drawing instruments ...

Ho_lee_cow. Did you use calculators in math when you went to school? We did. BUT! Only on specific assignments (very very few and FAR between) where they needed to make sure we understood how to use them. If you were caught with a calculator in class you would often find yourself having a chat with the Principal. It was cheating. Now? It's not recommended, it's freaking required. I never learned to use a graphing calculator and I imagine my parents would have shit a brick if I'd told them I needed a $100+ one for math. Luckily we're using Bear's old graphing one and he offered to teach her how to use it. He also said he'd help tutor her once a week with Geometry. Neither has happened and we're literally stuck on a lesson from over a week ago. Wonderboy said he'd help her but when he tried, well, he really did try but he didn't understand the way the book presents (you know how they change the way we do math in school every few years? Yeah, whoever is responsible for that crap should be tarred and feathered ... and then dunked face first in the toilet) so that was a bust.

Mike suggested asking Blade to help and I'm sure that if he had time, he would want to. Thing is, he's like me in that he's super blunt. Where we differ is that he never sees a need to consider someone else may not appreciate the blunt approach. (and, if I'm totally honest, that took me a few too many years to learn as well) He'd have her crying in no time and then would be so perplexed as to why she was upset, he wouldn't want to help. Everything is very black or white with him. No shades of color. Period. He'd not want to upset her, mind you, he's just as blunt as blunt can be. Well, he's also very exact in the way that he often gives answers in encyclopedic form (He's a blast to text with, let me tell you. Grrr) and that can be off-putting and misunderstood. A lot. Bear is absolutely the very best choice for this. He gets it, he has one of the most easy going personalities I've ever come across, he's funny in that laid back goofy kind of way and he's been using these calculators for years. He's an engineering student after all. It's just not happening for whatever reason.

So. I'm going to try and remove this block I have with Geometry and calculators and see if I can conquer this beast. Because it's not ok not to try and I have to lead by example.

Right?

(spell check loves hyphens. I do not.)

A mom interrupted, constantly

2011-10-06T04:14:00.000-05:00

There are a few things that will guarantee I'll suddenly be 'needed', a secret code word for interrupted.

Reaching the emotional point in a television show or movie, the one that turns the tears on.

Reaching the point in a show where they start whispering. This also works when I'm listening to a podcast.

Going to an ingame event.

Deciding I want to tell Mike something without anyone hearing.

Just being on the phone, in general, brings a line of people who feel they must talk to me.

Absconding to the bathroom to take a crap. Works almost every time. What the hell is up with that???

Sitting down to watch Survivor also brings them to me.

Let me lay down to take a nap. My phone will ring if nothing else.

The other day I went upstairs to watch an episode of CSI while Babygirl was busy doing some school work. I went upstairs because in that particular episode, one of my all-time favorite scenes of the entire show period is near the end and I didn't want to be interrupted while watching it. It worked like a charm! If anyone came to the door, I didn't hear them. If my phone rang, I didn't hear that either as I didn't take it with me upstairs. It was perfect and I knew Babygirl was doing work where she wouldn't need me for anything. Bliss, people, pure bliss.

And it lasted right up until that short, tiny little scene started. The second it did, I kid you not, my door flung open and Babygirl talked over the entire thing! She shut the door and went back downstairs as he scene ended. Not making this up!

I don't even remember what she wanted to tell me. I picked my jaw up from the bed and dropped my face down into my bedspread and just laid there for a few. Figures, no? I remember when Wonderboy was little he refused to leave my side. If I ate it, he ate it. If I drank it, he drank it. If I wanted to sit down, he was in my lap. If I was walking around the house, he clung to my leg until I picked him up. I would wake up every night to him climbing in our bed once he'd realized he was alone in his bed. The boy would NOT let me out of his sight. Or reach. Mike's dad, when we lived in Texas, once asked why I let him go into the bathroom with me when I had to poop. I showed him why by going in there and leaving Wonderboy on the other side of the door. Bill didn't last a full minute before yelling at me to either let Wonderboy in the bathroom with me or he would. He may have been on the small side but the boy could sound like a herd of screaming elephants if he wasn't attached to me, physically. Stampeding screaming elephants.

I used to jokingly tell people, when they commented on how attached to me Wonderboy was, that one day I would make it to a beach in Hawaii by myself, and I'd sit down, looking out over the ocean in the full morning sun, and drink a Pepsi. Alone. A whole Pepsi, just for me. It made people laugh but there were times when I felt I might be close to crying on the inside (half-joking). You know how we got Babygirl? Naptime, people. Across the house as far as we could get. Quietly.

When these constant and unending interruptions get to me the most, get me to the point of wanting to rip my hair out by the handful, I sometimes stop and think about what happened on Wonderboy's first day of school. I was expecting the worst show-down in the history of man when it came time for me to leave. Instead, he walked in, saw the kids and toys and colorfully adorned walls ... and promptly told me I could leave. And he's never clung to me or needed me like before since. Ever. Or I think about what it's like when Mike takes Babygirl on the road and there's no one here to interrupt me. It's a strange feeling, that kind of quiet and I know it'll come back for long periods at a time once she's gone off to college. I may whine that I need my me time, or a little peace and quiet, and I do! I may not like the constant stream of interruptions but I suppose I should be grateful for them at the same time. It's a hard line to balance on some days, though.

Nugget interrupts in a completely different way. His little sausage body simply must be where ever my feet are. It doesn't matter if I'm sitting on the couch, at my desk or walking through the house. I think he wants to be the rug beneath my feet. I'm afraid if he doesn't stop this, he'll one day be as flat as a rug. I've fallen over him more times than I can count. He won't be so quick to leap out of the way of my falling body when he's old ....

Never been much on candy ...

2011-10-04T09:26:00.000-05:00

A couple of weeks ago I was mindlessly clicking on people's names on Facebook, something I rarely EVER do as I can't stand Facebook. At all. I only have an account because my kids do. So, I'm clicking links and I see a familiar name that makes me pause for a second before clicking on that name. I looked at all of her photos and read a TON of her update posts, wondering the whole time why I was doing so. It stirred up a lot of memories of when we were kids, always playing together and made me want to be able to say something I've wanted to say since I was in 4th grade.

I've never liked my cousin Candy. Ever. And I don't have a good reason as to why.

We spent years playing together and had a lot of fun doing so. Sometimes. She's the oldest kid in her family, I'm the oldest in mine and we're less than a year apart if memory serves me. We were always put together and everyone assumed we were best friends. We weren't. We did what was expected of us and, for me, I knew I couldn't voice my opinion or I'd get in trouble. Family was huge to my family growing up but, as much as we got together, I never felt it was anything more than a chance to 'keep up with the Jones' and one-up them' kind of thing. Funerals (and we had a lot of them) were family reunions of sorts with loads of food and everyone sitting around, crying on cue (that's how it felt to me) and otherwise bragging about their latest and greatest. Parties or other celebrations were the same only, there was no dead person around. My step-dad's family was different in that they seemed to really enjoy each others company. My moms, though, dunno. Anyway, for whatever reason they had, we went to a lot of family gatherings.

Candy and I didn't have much in common. We both did ok with school and we were both girls. That's about where the similarities ended. I've never asked her but I always felt she was too good for ... common? The best of the best and all that crap. I've always favored the underdog. I liked mysteries and thrillers. No clue what she liked, just knew she wouldn't let me talk about them. Once they were at our house and we were playing by the back porch under the window where we normally stored our bikes. My brother and sister used to LOVE playing cartoons and, on this day, we were all characters from that show with Wonderwoman, Superman and the Wonder Twins. I was Wonderwoman (and yes, I had bracelets of foil on my wrists) and saw an opportunity. When Wonderwoman gets her thing on (not sure what it's called) she spins around with her arms out. Candy wasn't standing far from me so I spun around ... and smacked the absolute crap out of her face in the process. She knew it was on purpose even though I didn't say anything. Rightfully so, I got an ass-whoopin'!

Another time she and I were in our kitchen. I was showing her the vitamins Mom made us take everyday and told her to lick one, that it was sweet. She did. I then told her if she bit into it and chewed it up, it was even sweeter on the inside. She did. I got in trouble again but I remember thinking it was so worth it because of the way she reacted when she tried to chew up that nasty bitter vitamin. It was another 'SCORE' in my head.

We were both considered 'smart' but I remember when she bent over a poison ivy or oak plant in the woods to pee. That forever removed any resemblance of smarts in her for me. Not because she should have been able to identify the poison plant that would cause her so much agony, but because she peed in the woods. You just don't do that. Especially when your apartment is just over yonder.

While I was reading her feed on Facebook and looking at her family pictures, it finally hit me that she never liked me either. That was freeing because it lifted the guilt I've always had over not liking her and made me realize I can say it. And won't get in trouble for doing so. I wish her and hers well in life but if I never heard of her again, it wouldn't be that big a deal. It wouldn't be anything really.

Is Wonderwoman one word or two? Spell-check doesn't like it as one ...

Almost there ...

2011-10-01T23:48:00.000-05:00

Been in a bummer mood of late. The green beans that Mike said to not mess with or just give away have filled up a HUMONGOUS bin in my kitchen. I have to take care of them tomorrow and that bums me out. Once they are in the freezer, I'll feel great about them, no doubt. My kids are back on the 'mom is dumb' or 'mom has gross cooties' thing and that's bumming me out, too. I've never tried to go for the 'cool mom' but once in awhile, it'd be nice to be wanted. Or even noticed. Our tenant has given his 30 day notice because he's getting back together with his wife. I had started looking forward to Christmas, looking forward to maybe not having to go over and over and over my holiday menus to see what had to be left out this year, was feeling actual excitement ... then we got that damn call. I really hope our management company finds another renter fast. Paying two mortgages has hurt the hell out of us this year.

Oh, and starting next month would have marked the first time this year we didn't have to pay the NC house mortgage with our own money as the three months rent he's paid went towards the clean up/repair bill we incurred after my sister moved out. Speaking of, I think I still owe them something. I need to check on that.

We had some hellacious wind the other day that knocked down a buttload and a half of black walnuts. I had Babygirl gather up a big laundry basket full and there's probably still three times that much on the ground. Thing is, I don't know how to get the green hulls off, and if I have to wait a bit before doing so. I need to look that up. That would certainly help with holiday cooking!

We finally received the death certificate for Mike's dad, Bill. His death is listed as 'sudden death'. That's what happened but is it a cause? It's sad to think of how alone he really was when he died, even though I know that was of his own doing. It's made me think about my kids ... would they miss me when it's my time? I'm well aware of the fact that I'm a little hard to get along with, too, though not to the extremes that Bill was. I hope, anyway. One of the effects they mailed us was a broken watch. I can't think of a better symbol to describe Bill.

Mike had to leave today. He was in for a few days this time and, despite my bummed-outed-ness, it felt really good having him home. I miss him already. Maybe the Bears game will show in our market today. That would totally cheer me up. They're playing the Panthers this week and no, I do not like the Panthers. Doesn't make one iota that they're in the Carolinas. Da Bears is where it's at!

Backwards!

2011-09-28T08:00:00.000-05:00

My mom showed me a 'trick' once when I was in 4th grade where you could write a word on one side of the paper and then flip the paper over and the word would read backwards. That flat fascinated me. I still feel sorry for my teacher, Mrs. Heath. I started writing all of my word assignments backwards, right to left on the paper (because it had to be completely backwards). It gave my teacher fits and even though she'd tell me I had to stop, I wouldn't. She finally told me that if I was that determined to write backwards, to make sure I didn't also write on the back of the pages so she could turn my assignments over, hold them up to the light and read them. This worked for a while until we had to do a project on red hearts made from poster board. Heh. That was the last time I was allowed to write backwards in her class. Ever. She was so mad she broke my pencil even. Oddly enough, that was also the year the school started testing me for what felt like everything under the sun. They wanted me in the academically gifted program (my mom said no to that for two years, didn't start it until 6th grade when my stepdad said ok) and said I had a shocking photographic memory.

I never thought much about my backwards writing preceding all that testing until today. Mike and I were talking about dyslexia and how when you're dysgraphic, you don't just write a letter backwards, you SEE it backwards. I joked and said my 4th grade phase would have either been a boon or poor hell for someone who was dyslexic. I explained about my 'phase' and he said he'd read somewhere that Leonardo da Vinci did the same thing and it took years for people to decipher his code. I laughed and told him they should have contacted me but he was serious. Said da Vinci is the only one known to have written backwards like that. I find that to be uber weird as I did it with ease and all the freaking time. I haven't done it since one of my boys was diagnosed as dyslexic as it just didn't feel right. Almost tempted to grab a pencil and see if I can still do it. First, though, I want to look up da Vinci and see if I can find out why people thought it was so weird. It's kind of funny to think a phase would make them scramble like something was wrong with me. I just thought it was fun.

Here we go again

2011-09-27T15:07:00.000-05:00

Nugget went off last night, barking like crazy and wouldn't stop no matter what I said. It was after 1am and it flat didn't occur to me that someone was at my door as they never knocked. Took me a minute or two to figure this out. When I realized he was running to the door and back I went to check. Wonderboy was leaning against the door, going to sleep. I opened the door and he stumbled into the house reeking of alcohol. He had his arms in his shirt and across his chest because it was cold outside, especially to him as he was just in a thin tee-shirt and shorts. When I asked him what he was doing here he mumbled stoopid shit, saying it was too risky to sleep at his house and he had to sleep with Nugget. Long story short, I finally told him to give me the truck keys. He yelled "EXACTLY!!!", handed me the keys and left. Was super weird to say the least but what do you expect from someone who's drunk? I called Blade, who was on his way home from work, and asked him to make sure Wonderboy made it home. He was fast asleep when Blade got there.

He had no idea he'd been here last night, nor did he know what happened to the truck keys. When Blade finally told him where they were he came over here, laughing about last night, terming it 'a funny story'. I was pissed. He's on probation. He's 19, underage to be drinking. His friend Guitarboy is also underage, a year younger than he, and was drinking with him last night. Guitarboy is living with them at the moment because his parents took his car, cell phone and kicked him out of the house. He has a kid now, just a few weeks old, and isn't trying to be anything remotely close to responsible. That ticks me off, too, that Wonderboy moved him in without saying a word to us. It's our house and we let him and Blade live there, just as we did Bear. We don't have many rules but the ones we do have, which include no underage drinking, no drugs, keep the place cleaned up and mow the yard, were all agreed on before they moved in last October. And just incase I wasn't clear, Guitarboy has a kid. Not Wonderboy.

Anyway, what has me in fits is that drinking (among other things) with his friend Underage and Funny Guy is what got him into trouble in the first place. It's why he's been arrested twice already. It's why he's on probation and yet he did it again last night. And he thinks I'm making a big deal about nothing. He's saying it was ok to drink because he was in a house his parents owned and because he didn't drive, he didn't do anything that wasn't responsible. I could just smack him. In Iowa, supposedly (haven't looked it up), it's ok to have a drink with your parents in their house if you're underage. If that's true then I imagine the 'with your parents' is there so that they can look after you. I don't think last night fits up with that law, whether it's on the books or not.

So today we're not getting along in any stretch of the imagination and it totally blows donkey balls. The last week, prior to last night, has been flat awesome with him. Oh wells.

... And so many people think I'm all smart with computards

2011-09-25T21:37:00.000-05:00

I'm stumped on this one. I haven't used my headset since end of April/first of May. Just haven't done a lot of gaming and without gaming, I've no need for it. Anyway, I went to an event Friday night and wanted to use my headset so I could turn on in game sounds and not have to compete with the show Wonderboy and Babygirl were watching. The front jacks on my sound card did nothing. Period. I got under my desk and plugged the headset (has a mic also) into the "backside of my sound card". Again, nothing. So I tried plugging them into my mobo. Ah-HA! The microphone worked just fine as I could hear myself through my headset. What I couldn't hear through my headset was ANYthing else. No winamp, no Middle-Earth Network Radio, no YouTube, no nothing. Other than my mic. Am I missing something or is that just completely weird?

I finally called Mike this evening (well, Sunday evening) to see if anything struck him. I've had issues with my sound card for a long time and, at the moment, using it for my headphones won't even register that I have headphones plugged in via Windows sound crap. He thinks my headset may be going out. Dunno. It kind of rings a bell that I may have been experiencing a problem with them eons ago but I don't remember.

I still really need to format my pc. Badly. Like, should have done this months ago. Considering doing just that when I get up in the morning but I don't know if I want to fool with reinstalling all of my stuff. I still can't trust our internet connection either, so there's another reason not to fool with it. I am going to redo my backup just incase. It's at the point where I sometimes wonder if it's going to boot into Windows. I really should go ahead and format. I've been wanting to give Windows 7 another try, see if it jives with my games this time. Feels like too much work, though.

Guess I should get my external and do the backup so I can go to bed.

Bad Mom!

2011-09-23T22:02:00.000-05:00

I have a confession to make. I've spent way too much time in LotRO the last three days and I have absolutely enjoyed the crap out of it! I had a goal to get my new hunter up to level 30 by 8:30pm (CST) Friday evening. I missed the mark and was only 28 but I've hit 30 since. I'm hoping to get at least another five levels this weekend and ten more next week. We'll see!

My house could use some work, though. I talked Babygirl through making roasted potatoes Wednesday night but forgot to tell her to use a cookie sheet with sides. I'm still scrubbing the bottom of my oven with SOS pads, trying to get the last of the burnt olive oil off it. I'm a little behind on dishes and my carpets would love to see their old friend the Hoover! And we won't even get into my kitchen floor. Egads! I've got some work to do tomorrow before I start LotRO up.

Mike was making his way from Barstow, CA to Needles, CA (or maybe Needles, AZ?) when, about halfway there, in the dark of night, oh, and it's a big desert, his truck broke down. He was towed in to somewhere in Arizona to the tune of $1500 (thank GHOD it wasn't our bill) and then had to wait a day or two for the part to come in. The part needed was a wire with a fuse link in it. Doesn't sound like much and I as much as told him that it sounded like something my high school auto mechanics teacher would have made on the fly. He agreed. This 12" wire cost $500. Not making that up. People, that's where the money is. Over-inflated truck parts! He's since gotten back on the road and is somewhere in Texas.

It's been a fast week. Can't believe it's the weekend already. Since I've managed to mess up my sleeping habits, again, and also Babygirl's, I should go to bed. And start forcing myself to lay down at a decent time. Oh, and while I'm rambling, I've lost a total of 27 pounds now and noticed tonight my elbows are looking better. Woot for the obscure!

Walking for Child's Play

2011-09-21T08:32:00.000-05:00

Child's Play Charity is an online fund-raising charity started by Penny Arcade to raise money for toys and games to donate to sick children in hospitals across the county. A couple that plays LotRO started a blog and podcast, A Casual Stroll to Mordor, to cover news and events in the game and their site has grown into one of the biggest LotRO go-to sites out there. Last year they came up with a LotRO-themed idea to help raise money for Child's Play called "The Fellowship's Walk". Here's the break down.

The ultimate goal they've set for donations via their walk is $5000. They have a goal chart mapping out smaller goal amounts on the way to the $5k raised. When a new goal is reached, they walk (in game, LotRO) to a new destination on the path that Frodo took from Bag End to Rivendell as he set out on his journey to save Middle Earth, as described in Tolkien's LotR. Each week between September 23rd and October 24th they'll announce progress made on the goal chart and where they'll be walking to next.

Last year they did reach their goal of $5k and had a rather large group walk with them. It looked like a lot of fun and is such a great cause, I (fingers crossed) plan on walking with them this year. I wanted to post about this here because it's a charity I do believe in and I *love* seeing how gamers come up with ways to help others. Hopefully the links will help explain this better than I did. I've a nasty headache today and keep deleting and starting over, trying to get my words to string together right. /UGH

Here's a link to the FAQ for The Fellowship's Walk if you're interested in how it works.

Great pizza and a math cam

2011-09-20T05:20:00.000-05:00

I printed out a recipe for a '15 minute soup' yesterday and then found I had enough coupons saved up for a free pizza from Caseys. I almost went with the soup as pizza from our Caseys has been high on the ick factor lately, but decided to give it a shot anyway. Was the best pizza I've had in a long time! The pepperonis were on top of the cheese, just a single layer, the sauce was just right and the crust wasn't rubbery. I'm not above telling them how to fix my pizzas as I hate toppings under the cheese, especially when they take stacks (!!!) of pepperoni and put them under. Or use so much sauce you can't take a bite without wearing what looks like half a can of red on your shirt. I don't know if they're just remembering how we want pizza or if Wonderboy instructed them, but they did an awesome job last night.

Spoiler alert if you haven't watched the latest episode of Hell's Kitchen!

We ate while watching the season finale for Hell's Kitchen. I picked Will to win from the very first episode and he proved to be the right pick, episode after episode, winning almost every single challenge Ramsey threw at them. He even won one with meatloaf, beating out much more "exciting" dishes (in theory) and proved his prowess in the kitchen. He has an intuitive sense of what goes well together and, if memory serves, is the only contestant to NEVER get yelled at by Ramsey for his performance. He has shown all season that he can lead a kitchen and has to be the calmest guy from Jersey I've ever seen on a reality show. I was shocked when his door didn't open and Paul's did. I believe my exact words were, "how the hell did that happen???" Will started this season polished and, in my opinion, finished the same way. His only downfall, that I could see, was that he didn't switch Kroopa (?) off the fish station fast enough. I'd eat in his restaurant any day if I could afford it. Dude rocks a kitchen!

In other news I've talked to Bear about doing a once a week tutor session with Babygirl in Geometry. I wish he could drive in for them (didn't ask, tho) as I'd love to see my son more often that we do, but I asked if he could use Pear's webcam with Babygirl on hers. She keeps her camera covered with post it notes as she doesn't like the idea of using it at all, but I think she'll like doing this with her brother since she's always asking when we will see him next. I could certainly use the help as I suck at geometry! Hopefully it won't be as frightening to me now, knowing he'll cover anything we're struggling with.

What the hell?

2011-09-19T17:21:00.000-05:00

Wonderboy took it upon himself to have a 'don't do drugs' talk with Babygirl one day when out in the garden. She offered up that drugs make you less aware of your surroundings. Smart girl, no? He came back with trash. Utter bullshit. He told her that drugs and alcohol make you MORE aware of what's out there, but that you focus on it so much you aren't aware of what's going on behind you. Excuse me, Wonderboy, but do you mean 'more paranoid of things that may or may not be out there'?

I asked her if she believed his story of the night he went to walk home and realized there were people hiding in the bushes, and it scared him so badly he ran all the way home. She wasn't sure. Let's, for a moment, overlook the fact that these 'bushes' are a couple feet high at most, so small a hobbit couldn't hide in them. It happened because he was high. Not because it was real. There are so many crazy stories he's told that are nothing more than pure paranoia and he believes them all. No matter how ludicrous they are. Maybe that's why he's so sure of himself when talking to her. He still can't see the difference.

I could still slap him, tho. He's smart enough to understand the difference.

I don't know where I'm going with this post so I'll stop it here. I'm just irked that he'd feed her info like that. Reminds me of how Bear was preaching the wonderfulness of weed and how it should be legalized, that'd he do it all the time if it were, to a young and impressionable Wonderboy.

A new day

2011-09-18T08:05:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I felt as if I'd lost a good friend in this whole naming policy mess, but today I'm excited to finally have my blogs over here on WordPress. I've been toying with the idea of moving them for SO long but when push came to shove, I stayed put because the I didn't know I could export my blogs from Blogger, complete with pictures and comments, so easily. I'd already used Blogger's export function before even registering over here and, as usual, was only able to export blog posts. All comments and pictures were gone making me a sad, sad pup. When I finally registered here I'd decided I would just start fresh rather than try to 'redo' years worth of blog posts to get the pictures and formatting right. Then I stumbled on the import/export tools in the WordPress dashboard. WOW! I can't believe it's as simple as a 'few clicks' but it really is. What took so long, for me, was reacquainting myself with the dashboard and all the features WordPress offers. Everything from stats to posting to design is all in a nice neat left-hand sidebar. I wish I'd done this a lot sooner!

Another feature of WordPress I really like is that it has a 'built in' reader of sorts. It's not nearly as nice as Google Reader, what I've been using for years to read blogs (and will continue to use until A) they take that away from me or B) I find a new reader I like better), but it's there. Google Reader was one of the listed services that I may lose, that and Picasa. There were more but I don't read dots well (they listed the others, literally, as "..."). I hope that deleting my profile keeps them from taking functionality away but I dunno. I'm trying to cover my bases before they're gone so I've got all the blogs I read here just incase. If you know of any good readers, I'm all ears.

I started moving my pictures and screenshots over to Flickr last night but, so far, only have my old LotRO screenshot blog ones up. I downloaded a zip file of all my Picasa albums, though, so it's just a matter of going through them and then uploading what I want up. Right as I went to bed I remembered something else I need to 'find a possible replacement' for and for the life of me, I don't remember what it was. I hope I'm just over reacting and they really will restore my access to Google services I used prior to signing up for Google+, but the way they worded it, may or may not, well, I may have a few fingers crossed but I don't want to be caught unawares.

In other news, I'm out of coffee! How does that happen?? I'll tell you how. Mike likes to keep old coffee jugs to dump coffee grounds or whatnot in. When I was making out the grocery list I saw three whole jugs of coffee sitting on the shelf so I didn't add that to my list. I wish I'd checked to see if it was old moldy coffee or the good stuff. I had enough (fresh) grounds to brew a cup. One cup. Kill me now!

Been busy!

2011-09-17T02:09:00.001-05:00

That's what my night has been. I'd originally planned on gaming as long as I could tonight. I don't get to game much anymore what with the veggies in the garden needing to be put up, home school stuff, me getting sick over and over ... Ugh. I miss my games. I neeeedssss my games! There was a HUGE end of beta event tonight that I was so totally going to attend. As it were, however, I forgot all about it and settled in at my desk with a big stack of school work to grade and plan ahead by. Then I put up 15 quarts (in freezer baggies) of green beans. I was taking a break and happened to check Twitter ... and saw people talking about the beta event.

Let me tell you. I was one sad puppy!

On the other hand, I finished all those green beans! My sheets are clean! I'm caught up on every subject but Literature (in terms of grading and seeing how she's doing and where we need to go from here)! I also now see that we have to go back and redo a lot of her Geometry as she isn't where she needs to be to continue. I was hoping it would suddenly 'catch', and about half of it has. But I think a good thorough review is in order before we advance anymore.

A few days ago I woke up wondering if it was my left ear hurting or my back molar. Yesterday I had my confirmation. It's my back molar. It's sensitive to touch, heat, cold and I feel pressure building under it. I can't chew with it at all. I'm at the point that I'd like to yank the snot out of my immune system. That said, I beat the ear infection in my right ear so that's something. But. Still. I hope it doesn't abscess on me. At least it's on the bottom. Top molars, when abscessed, can *blow* into your sinuses. If you've never experienced that, YOU ARE LUCKY! Bottom molars can't do that. I've had a couple where I had to go to the dentist but mostly, they take care of themselves. Fingers crossed this one never gets anywhere near bad.

A couple of nights ago I rough chopped carrots, celery, onions, zucchini and potatoes, sprinkled them with salt, pepper and olive oil, and then cooked them in a dutch oven under a whole freaking chicken I'd rubbed with spices and olive oil. I slow cooked it all in my oven and man, it was really good! I've never cooked a chicken like that before and after seeing how easy it is, I plan on doing it again. I need a bigger dutch oven, however, as mine was literally filled to the brim so that I couldn't get any tomatoes in with the chicken and veg. Speaking of, I've got a bunch of tomatoes to put up tomorrow. Wanted to do them tonight but just didn't have the time.

Oh. I should give props where props are warranted. Mike and Babygirl took care of washing and trimming the green beans for me. Once they were done, Mike mentioned we had that many or more still waiting to be picked in the garden. Then he suggested giving them away. I feel like that sometimes, too. I'd have to go count but I think I've put up 30 quarts of green beans so far. My tomatoes, hmm. We've already eaten most of the sauce I've made from them. I've maybe four quarts left in the freezer and should be able to get at least two out of what I've got to do tomorrow. He planted potatoes this year but, although I have a big colander full, they're tiny. Thinking about just cutting them in half and roasting them.

Anyway, tomorrow I'll do the tomatoes, kale and cabbage, work on a bit of school stuff once Squealer goes home and then? It's all gaming for the rest of the weekend. With a game break long enough to watch my Bears play. (assuming they'll show the game ... sometimes they don't and I have to watch other games to get my NFL fix) Should be fun!

She got her learners permit!

2011-09-15T13:01:00.001-05:00

Mike took Babygirl down yesterday to take the written (done on a computer) test to get her drivers permit. She passed. I had a heart attack! Well, not really but ... why must they grow up so freaking fast? I remember when Bear got his and I took him out driving. Oh my word was it awful! His truculent attitude got the best of him and, after warning him that I'd make him pull over and let me drive if he didn't cut it out, put us on the side of the road so we could switch out. He felt he not only knew better but was positively a better driver than me and just wouldn't listen. Nor would he check his mirrors, stop going from side to side depending on where his eyes were looking, ... My nerves just aren't set up for that.

Then came Blade. He nearly side swiped an 18-wheeler. Never went driving with him again. Just couldn't do it. Thankfully, Mike can and has nerves of steel versus my nerves of overloaded sponge. I tried once more with Wonderboy and when he backed out in front of traffic, causing the oncoming vehicle to swerve to the other lane, and then screamed at me "DO YOU WANT TO DRIVE???" when I told him he had to check mirrors and look behind him before backing out, I simply said "Yes" and that was that. I knew then I could not be the one to take her out driving when her time came. This doesn't surprise Mike at all as there are times when I can't handle it when he's driving, and he's the professional!

Hello, bloggie readers. I'm a control freak. Seriously.

Last night Babygirl told me that she could drive with Speedy's mom if I signed a paper saying that was ok. That caused every fiber of my being to scream inside me. It's not that it's Speedy's mom specifically at all. It's that it's not me. And to be honest, it just can't be me. I'd make her so nervous she wouldn't be able to drive. To this day, if Bear is driving with me in the vehicle, he gets overly nervous and makes dumb mistakes because of it. That's my fault, me not being able to let go of control and NOT have a white knuckle grip on the door handle when the car is sitting still, that does that to him. But I can't not do it. The other night Mike and I were in bed and he rolled over to give me a hug. He put his head kind of over mine and I immediately realized I couldn't move my left arm because of the way he was holding me. I panicked and pushed him away so we could re situate. I do that because if something happens and I need to fight, I have to have my arms free. And my legs. I trust him with my life and the lives of my children and have absolute zero fear I'd ever have to fight him. But there's something inside me that won't let me not be in enough control so that I could fight if I had to. Just because. I'm always on the defense and it's stupid but, it is what it is. When I made him move he smiled, kissed my forehead and moved because he gets it. He doesn't like it but he gets it. I have to be in control. I'm too scared not to be.

When she suggested Speedy's mom I said 'NO!' and when she asked why, I was at a loss of words. I don't want someone else doing what I should be doing. It made me realize how silly and stupid I am with this control thing. I want to be the one to take her out driving but I know I can't. The last two times Bear has driven with me in the car were 'have tos'. One was when Wonderboy totaled my (old) Tahoe when he hit the semi. Bear drove me two blocks and very nearly slid through the same stop sign Wonderboy had when he hit the truck. The other was not long after my knee surgery, when I really couldn't drive. He asked, after going off the road several times and then spilling my coffee all over me by slamming on the brakes, if he could pull over and let me drive. I said ok to that and drove because I'd rather be in control of the vehicle with a really painful knee than sit passenger. (I'd also, by this time, learned to drive with only my left foot.)

I know I can't and won't be taking her out driving but I don't want anyone else to do it either. Other than Mike. It's selfish and silly but that's how I feel. Mike took her out last night and they're out right now. She'll just have to wait to drive when he's home. That's how we did it with the boys. Doesn't earn me any gold wings of motherhood, but. Whatever. What makes me feel the worst about this is that I'm way more ok with it than not to be honest. Until someone asks if I suffer from PTSD again. Then I want to punch them in the face. Because I'm 40 years old and irregardless of what may or may not have given me these control issues, I am who I am and you can accept that or suck my little toe.

Influence

2011-09-12T00:57:00.001-05:00

The very first argument Mike and I ever had was over Martin Luther King, Jr. I saw (and see) him as a man who not only had a dream, but the courage to stand up and share his dream. Back then Mike saw him more as the man who made a lot of people fight. Since, he's changed his views and sees him in a much different light, one that closely resembles mine. I've always been one to fight for the 'underdog' and I think that's influenced Mike a lot over the years as he now also fights for the underdog. It's funny, looking back at who we were and seeing the influence of each other on our lives.

I made a phone call today to Bear, in short, asking him not to let Pear's views on 9/11 influence him. She made a post earlier today (that she's since taken down) on Facebook that hit my stomach hard. She'd started out saying 'if you have a brain please don't fall for the 9/11 commercialism'. I agree with that exactly as it's written if it means 'don't give your money to those who are trying to make a personal buck off the tragedy'. But I don't know if that's what she meant as she went on to say it was time to get over it and get on with you life, not to dwell on it. Again, dwelling, if that is all consuming, isn't a great thing to do. It was the 'get over it' that got me, though. I'd commented, as did someone else, basically saying we can't forget, nor should we, as that would dishonor the memory of so many who lost their lives that day. Pear said she just didn't get it and, to be honest, she was young when it happened. I get that. But I also think that's why we should remember all the more, and tell those who were too young to grasp what happened all about it.

It was an attack on our own soil, one that used our own people ... our mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, uncles, ... as a bomb to kill so many more. We lost heros that day. They died trying to save someone elses life. And then, when our Government, with the images of the towers falling fresh in our minds, said we needed to go to war, we said yes. Because what happened on 9/11 changed the face of our history. Everyone's history.

To say it's time to 'get over it' gets me.

Another commenter said something along the lines of 'your tears aren't going to help that single mom of four kids who lost her husband, the provider'. After the shock of seeing so many people die, people jumping from the towers to their death, after that shock wore off I noticed people rallying together. People running to instead of from because they wanted to help. Help a stranger, a friend, it didn't matter. I saw, in my mind, a huge outpouring of folks joining hands to form a bridge to support those who's lives had been ripped apart by the deaths of so very many. It felt like we really were the 'one nation' that we claim to be and that we'd been forever bonded together. The phoenix that rose from the ashes to live again. Greatness among such unbelievable heartache. Those tears the commenter spoke of may not pay the bills but they are a symbol of the day, of how strong we are, of how we hurt and remember and love and come together as one.

This weekend we remembered. It's important to remember to honor those who died, to honor those who gave their lives to save a stranger, to honor those who worked tirelessly looking for bodies, to honor those who cleaned up the mangled mess of the towers, to honor those who lost a loved one, to honor the American spirit. Budweiser ran a commercial during the Bears game today that struck a chord and made the tears flow.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ddlaE5a-SI4

It's about respect and honor. Life goes on but we should never forget.

I feel that calling Bear was sticking my nose where it didn't belong. I did it, however, because I don't want him to be influenced into being so selfish that he can't care about anyone other than himself. A partner's influence can be a very strong thing and I can see him agreeing to keep the peace. And that's his choice, really. I had to give another side, though, because he has a heart of gold in there and I'd hate to see it tarnished.

Pictures

2011-09-11T01:29:00.001-05:00

Babygirl didn't have a tight grip on Nugget, but he kind of looks like he's implying she did.

The Croaker. She's a true blue Bears fan.

Speaking of da Bears, here's proof they have achieved world domination. It's a messed up picture (the world map was on the wall behind me and the glass on the poster caught it's reflection) but I like it.

Nugget and his straw wig. I knew my hair was in need of mucho repair but. Wow. Really? Me thinks I really should cut it. Or, at least, trim it up a bit.

I've mentioned before that he has to come check out the camera, or flat out pose when he sees me with it. This time I was in the floor when he saw me about to take a picture. He just can't resist my camera. I thought taking his picture would satisfy him as it usually does but this time he licked the lens right after I snapped it.

The peace burger

2011-09-10T03:57:00.001-05:00

Wonderboy and I had a blowout of epic proportions Thursday that ended with me telling him (loudly. really loudly) to get the bleep out of my house. And then I texted him that until he could grow up and think about someone other than himself, he wasn't to talk to me or text me about it again. Since we've already established that I can be rather immature at times, we won't go into how I may have screamed at the top of my lungs. That should just be expected when I use terms like 'blowout'.

That said, my anger was so completely justified.

Anyway, after an unsuccessful attempt to put words IN my mouth in order to 'get me in trouble' with Mike, he went on to work. He's driving one of our trucks and Blade is driving my Tahoe to work. Every day. I have no vehicle to do anything with and it sucks. Since A) I'm tired of making car payments, and insurance payments, and not having access to my vehicles and B) Blade's switched to second shift AND C) there are days when their schedules are only off by an hour, I thought it would make sense if they drove in together in one vehicles. In my head, this would save them gas money and give me a car to run errands in. In Wonderboy's mind, this was an extreme injustice (because Blade was going to be driving Thursday) and would only prove to be embarrassing for him, not being able to drive himself. Oh, and I'd like to mention this. They work a block or so apart from each other. Whatever. He was like a bomb going off. He sent ugly blocks of text messages to me and when I didn't let them get to me, came barging up in the house yelling at me. Literally, he threw the front door open and was screaming as he stepped inside.

19 years I've been his mom and he hasn't figured out that I don't play that way. Wait. That's not how it should be worded. I don't take that sitting down. That's better. If you yell at me and get right up in my face, I will start walking towards you. I have issues with anyone trying to intimidate me. If you chest bump me, I do it back. I don't think about being the bigger/better person when someone is trying to use scare tactics like that. So yeah, I chest bumped back and when his hands went up, I kept walking and walked him backwards to the door before yelling at him to get out of my house.

Normally I wait up for him to get home so he can give me the truck keys. I tried having him lock them up in the truck so I could go to bed but he won't. He takes them home, misplaces them and then jumps all over Babygirl and me as he's sure we hid them from him. I have a spare but he just won't lock them in the truck. I figure it saves the peace for me to just wait up and let him hand them to me. I didn't Thursday night, though. I thought he'd come home still mad and didn't want to deal with it. Instead, he called me from my porch at 1:30am and told me, in a very pleasant voice, that he'd brought me some burger patties. When he knows he's in the wrong he brings me stuff. Sometimes it's a Pepsi, ink pens, ... this time it was burger patties. We had a sorta long and very calm talk about what had happened earlier and he left.

Friday I wanted something to eat but didn't know what. I wound up taking one of the patties, some whole milk mozzarella, sour cream, freshly picked cherry tomatoes and pepper and coming up with this.

I'm calling it "The peace burger" and man is it good! It's simple (takes just 2-3 minutes to fix) and hits the spot for me. I hate that I'm not the cool mom that can ignore behavior like his and let it go without yelling. Or doing the intimidating thing back. I'm not the best mom out there, I know that. I hate seeing proof of it, though. On the upside I don't see this 'proof' much anymore as I've gotten pretty good at sending him home before he can blow up at me. But when it does happen, it just doesn't feel good. It's put me in a serious bummer mood but the peace burger is working hard at wiping that mood away.

Now to shower and get some sleep to finish the 'mood removal' ...

Ghost the Ninja

2011-09-09T13:14:00.001-05:00

Ghost has awesome ninja skills that come in handy when starting attacks on her buddy Croaker.

Nugget and Rudolph: The pictorial

2011-09-09T00:41:00.001-05:00

Here's a tired Nugget obliging me and entertaining Rudolph. He's usually excited to have his picture taken (re: get attention) but tonight he was just chilling on the couch. So I had to mess with him.

Here we are, little closer. He's staring at me only because I'm trying to get a cute picture. If I put the camera down, he starts sniffing Rudolph's nose. Every time.

Not sure if he's finally giving in and giving me what I want, or just really tired.

Uh oh, the evil alien dog is back!

Ok, I'll stop. But only 'cause you asked nicely, Nugget. Isn't he just the cutest?

Can you tell I've got Christmas on the brain?

Sometimes, the title is the hardest part

2011-09-07T02:41:00.001-05:00

We're a week in to school and Babygirl and I are having adjustment issues. I knew they'd pop up, more at the beginning, and we'd have to find a way to meet in the middle. I tried to think and figure out what they'd be so I could be ready with ways to counter them, smooth them out, make them better. But. Ugh. She's not used to reading books like Benjamin Franklin's autobiography. She wants to know why she has to read it and I've tried explaining, telling her how important an historical figure he is, talked about how she has things in common with him ... and finally, went with the 'it's a building block for understanding and better communication skills' (though, not said that way). Still, can't get past the 'I don't want to read it'. So we looked at the books she has to read this year for her American Lit. class. Half of them she won't enjoy that much, the other half I think she will. I told her it's like a trade off, taking the good with the not so fun.

I've asked her over and over again what she wants, how she envisions homeschooling. Right now she's stuck on 'I don't see my friends that much' and 'it's too hard'. Her biology assignment today ... whooo doggies! I finally, after much hair pulling (my own) told her she didn't have to do it if she didn't want to. BUT. If she didn't, I had to hold on to her phone and iPod until she did. The tears, headache, stomachache and sleepies (all reasons for not doing it) went away and she came back with a finished assignment. She'd been complaining that she didn't understand the assignment. I explained it, showed her an example, explained it again (and again) ... I think she just didn't want to do it and was pulling out all the stops to make that happen. I don't want every day to be a battle of 'I take your most prized possessions if you don't'.

I also think she may be fighting this bug that plum took Mike and me DOWN.

Anyway, I wanted to give her something to look forward to so I told her about her first art project that's coming up in a few weeks. I'm so freaking stoked with this idea I came up with and can't wait to see what she does with it. Tonight, however, she laughed. At me or the project or both, I dunno. But it was just enough, the way she was making fun of it, to make my eyes sting a little. I've worked so hard and so far, I've gotten not much more than a lot of complaining. She's doing her work but when something isn't what she thought it would be, oh the fight comes out. Like, her vocabulary tests. She's used to having a few words in the left column and a few definitions in the right column. Her tests consists of matching the word to the definition. Mine consist of me calling the word out, her having to spell it correctly AND write the definition. I'll use the word in a sentence to help her get used to doing them this way.

BUT OH MY WORD THE SKY IS FALLING!

She's not used to doing them this way and it's just not fair. GAH! And you wouldn't believe the injustice of me making her write the ones she misspelled a few times each. Whooo. I'm so incredibly mean! I dunno. I'm tired, still getting over this congestion filled bug-of-fun (though, I think I've kicked it) and am frustrated at the moment. Tomorrow is another day and I know they'll get easier, and better, but it's the getting there that has me wondering if I'm capable. Oh my word is she stubborn! She gets it from me, though, so we're butting heads more than I like. At least mine's bigger. (head and stubbornness)

New office/school room

2011-09-06T13:30:00.001-05:00

This is, for the most part, how the new office/school room looks. Thought we'd already bought the white wall shelves but, if we did, we lost them. I have an old globe upstairs in my room that would look awesome on the desk but haven't brought it down yet. 'Course, if she doesn't like maps and globes as much as I do, she may feel differently. (crate is being used as a trash can until I get one of my other trash cans in there)

The above chair is her own rendition. She did this a few years ago to an old desk chair we had and she just can't phatom parting with such a beautiful piece of art. In the eye of the beholder and whatnot I suppose. The chair below she started out using at the desk but it's not adjustable and sat just a wee bit too high. Now it's in the corner where I want a big beautiful fake ('cuz I kill real ones) plant.

This room really is under the stairs. The stairs take up most of the closet. Fun fun. Oh, and in the below shot, we still had the door off the hinges so we could move Mike's old desk in here. It *barely* fit through the door. (cue pinched fingers!)

There is a blind behind the sheer now but I think I liked the look of this window more before the blind went up. Given it's proximity to the road, however, a blind is necessary. As is more lighting but that will come. Hopefully soon.

I've lost my living room

2011-09-01T18:37:00.001-05:00

These two show the spillage of Mike's desk stuff that's in our living room. I opted not to take a picture of the pile in the office or the bits and bobs in my dining room. I keep saying 'today is the day I deal with this' but the dizziness that's accompanying my ear infection, the heavy chest from congestion, the aching side and ab muscles from too much coughing and the COMPLETELY CLOGGED UP HEAD (makes me mad) insist I partake of respite on the couch instead. I feel like I'd feel a little better if I cleaned all this up. But I need to feel a little bit better to get the energy (and no dizzy tizzy everytime I move my head) to clean this all up.

Rock/me/hardplace.

(click to enlarge, if you dare)

Today is not such a good day ...

2011-08-31T13:08:00.001-05:00

... let me count the ways.

I woke up to that sharp stabby burp pain that occurs tenfold when you have an inner ear infection.

I tripped over a way too trusting cat on the stairs and slid down a few steps. Hard.

I stepped in poop. Barefoot. Guessing we didn't take Nugget out before bed last night?

Can't hear well today due to having a cold and clogged ears.

I ran out of my Downy fabric softener.

Someone puked ALL FREAKING OVER my dining room table. /steaming

I dumped the coffee grounds in the trash can. THEN noticed it didn't have a bag in it.

Babygirl is sticking her fingers in her ears when I talk to her. Yes, she's 14 but I think she's forgotten.

I dropped a big bag of cat food as I was pouring it into the cat food bin. Cats were estactic. Me, not so much.

I opened the front door to see who was here this morning and knocked myself in the nose. With the door.

I hate looking stupid, especially in front of other people.

I dropped my toothbrush in the floor and Nugget grabbed it and ran. Chase ensued.

Did I mention my teenage daughter is plugging her ears with her fingers when I speak? /maddening

Been without our bank visa cards for a week thanks to a scammer getting ahold of the card number. /frustrating

I dumped rather than sprinkled when I fed the fish this morning. Hoping their bellies don't explode. (have had that happen once)

Ghost bit my chapstick today because I left it open on my desk and she's the Curious George of the feline world. /yuck

After winning a staring contest with Moe, he sneezed on my cucumber sandwich. /sore loser

Since I don't eat other peoples (or animal) snot, and that was the last of my cold cucumbers, my lunch was toast. Seriously. (I crack myself up)

So I'm thinking the day can only get better from here.

Oh, and Babygirl sticking her fingers in her ears? I'm resisting the urge to slap them OUT of her ears but the resisting is making me feel as though I could explode into a pile of stressed-out-mom-goo at any second.

I should have titled this one 'piles of mom goo'....

Desk saga continues

2011-08-30T22:33:00.001-05:00

Mike's desk:
OH. MY. GHOD. I don't know if I should be awestruck that he was able to cram SO INCREDIBLY MUCH STUFF in and on it, or dumbfounded. It took me two days to get everything off and out of his desk so I could clean it and get it into Babygirl's 'school' room. I think I've told the story about the box of old spark plugs he had either here or on Quack This (old blog) but incase you've forgotten, I'll do a quick retell.

He had a box that he'd put old spark plugs in, plugs he'd deemed 'need replacing', because, "... you never know when you'll need a spark plug ...". There was one time that he did use one of his twelve old plugs, but it was only one time. After years of smelling this dirty, greasy box of 'no longer using because they needed replacing' spark plugs in our bedroom closet, I threw the box away. And then found it back in the closet a week or so later. I threw it away again only to find it, again, back in our closet. This happened several times. That box had the sneakiest of legs, climbing out of the trashcan like that! Finally, it disappeared all together, from the trash can no less, to be found much later in the shed. I think he may have brought that box of plugs from NC to Iowa with us, too. I don't care anymore, as long as it doesn't come in the house.

Anyway, my point is that he's a packrat that saves everything. And for the same reason he keeps old plugs ... never know when it could be useful again. I've got a very large plastic wash tub full of his stuff in the living room. The coffee table is full and stacked high with more stuff (all from his desk). The tall corner desk he's going to be using? There's no room on it right now. It's covered. Boxes and boxes of stuff. Two whole days worth of stuff. I don't really have a living room right now.

On the upside, Babygirl now has a desk in her 'school' room and did her Spanish on it this afternoon so I've got my dining room table back. (ask me where I ate supper tonight ... the couch)

His desk has been in place for over five years. Have I mentioned I'm not the domestic goddess I thought I'd one day be? Know what I'm saying? No? You must run a clean house then. Ohmylord at the dust that was behind and under his desk!!! Five years worth of dust. I've sneezed more today than I have in the last three months I bet. I used wet rags to dust as I didn't want to throw all of it in the air. Did you know old dust turns rags and fingers black? (full disclosure there) Yeah, I'm ashamed. But! I'm less dusty now so that's cool.

I took a picture of the area where his desk WAS, a nice clean area now, and sent it to him via my cell. His response?

"Nice. Get everything else out of the office so you can shampoo the carpet before you put the other desk in there for me."

That makes sense. It also makes me want to cry. Especially since my desk looks really bad now that his is gone. The upside to this torture plan is that I can finally get my desk away from this drafty-ass window so I won't freeze my patootie off this winter. It'll have to wait until tomorrow though, for me to start, as I'm extremely tired and about to go to bed. Early.

Ree was on my TV!

2011-08-29T12:44:00.001-05:00

Last week I saw a tweet by someone talking about how The Pioneer Woman's show on the Food Network was set to debut last Saturday. I'd forgotten all about Ree having a show coming up and was glad for the reminder. I set my DVR to record her show and then, because I was sick this weekend, forgot all about it. Again.

Last night, tired of cleaning and clearing, I settled on the couch to see if I had any new shows recorded and waiting for me. I was stoked to see the listing for her show and promptly clicked the 'play' button. Having read her blog for years now it was awesome to see her on my tv screen! I'd never noticed just how much her boys look exactly like her, especially the youngest. I remembered her saying something last week about how her boys started rough-housing in front of the camera, and wouldn't stop. When I saw them going at it, I had to laugh. Sweet kids!

I really like that this show isn't just like all the other 'watch me cook' shows I've seen. Granted, I love Paula, Rachel and others I've watched over the years, but The Pioneer Woman's show does have that slice of her life on the ranch that makes it more endearing. It was, admittedly, a little hokey at times, but I love hokey. I'm not sure how often her shows will air but I'll be watching. And a little green with envy at how at ease she is in the kitchen!

http://www.foodnetwork.com/the-pioneer-woman/index.html

Poser

2011-08-29T11:48:00.001-05:00

I was trying to get a good picture of the "new office" (Blade's old bedroom) last night but Nugget kept posing at my feet. Everytime I took his picture he wagged his tail super fast! The lighting wasn't good enough for a good picture of the office so hopefully I can get that this afternoon. Though, there will be a big dirty fan in the picture as I'm drying the spot where Nugget freaking MARKED the new carpet. I cleaned it last night with a vinegar and water solution but something else (a cat) hit that spot over night. So I had to break out the Resolve this morning. I could spit nails I'm so mad about that. (or do you spit fire when you're mad??)

Anyway, he was cute last night pre-marking. And, as you can see, the alien eyes are back.

I didn't tell him to get out of my yard. Amazing control!

2011-08-25T12:12:00.001-05:00

Hungry, I stood in my kitchen this morning opening and then shutting the refrigerator and freezer, not seeing anything I wanted. I knew I didn't want peanut butter or the tapioca pudding Babygirl had made last night, but outside of cooking an egg or defrosting black-eyes or green beans I've been putting up, my only option was mystery soup. I felt defeated, wondering if I should just go to the grocery store already or wait until the weekend. I turned and saw a big basket full of tomatoes I'd washed last night, sitting there waiting on me to make pasta sauce, and felt my stomach fill with excitement at the thought of homemade sauce.

Hmm. Forgot where I was. Whatever, switching to 'conversational' style now.

Anyway, I opened the blinds behind the tomatoes and was surprised to see an old man standing in my back yard taking pictures of my house. I grabbed my flip flops and a cigarette and headed outside. He'd gone around the fence behind my neighbor's house so I thought a minute and decided to see if I could head him off by going around front. He moved a lot faster than I did so I started up towards the front yard. I saw a strange car sitting by the curb so I went and stood by it, looking for the guy. Long story short, he works for the county's assessors office and is taking pictures of all the houses in our county to put online. He told me 'it's all public records info anyway'.

I really don't like that.

I went inside and looked up our info via the assessors website. They list general info about our house and out buildings, who we bought the house for, how much we paid, if and when we paid the taxes owed on it and how much and had a rough blueprint of the main level floor plan. Now they'll have pictures of at least the backside of our house. Assuming he got a front picture also. Now, if you know our name or address, you can search for us and get floor plans, exits, what our house looks like ... right down to the color and all. Doesn't exactly make me feel safe.

And, just to show you how paranoid I really am, I light up every time I have to answer the door to someone I don't know. Why? 'Cause if I had to, I could stick the lit end in their eye and 'get away'. Yeah, paranoid is my middle name. Told ya I'm crazy.

Mike wants me to call the county and tell them we don't want pictures of our house online. I agree, but right now I don't want to take on another battle. I was up until 5am fighting with his scanner/printer to get the three copies of all my paperwork, lesson plans and stuff done to turn into the school for Babygirl's home schooling. (was also fighting her laptop to get it to run the Rosetta Stone software so she can start her Spanish lessons. Ugh, I won the fight but HO_LEE_WOW!) Half of the paperwork I just printed extra copies with my printer and filled them in by hand. Was frustrating. And I ramble. Oh, the county. Yeah, I don't think they'll listen to me on this and bet they could go as far as to say it's the county's property (the pictures), yada yada yada. And isn't it silly to view a 'phone call' as a battle? Yes. But that's how I see it right now. I've still got a TON of stuff to do before we start school on Monday, including another trip through the garden to pick veg and then put it up. I'll be SO glad I did this winter, but right now I'm in full-on "ACK!!!!!!!!" mode.

I don't wanna call. I'd rather take WAY longer to blog and bitch about it instead.

Sleeping issues continued via Bloody Mary

2011-08-24T13:28:00.001-05:00

I didn't make it up to bed last night when I said I would. Or when I wanted. I was busy inspecting the top of my foot with a very bright flashlight as I was sure there had to be a bug doing the cha-cha across my foot to cause the amount of insane itching I was experiencing. I tried washing it in alcohol. I scratched until it burned and was a flaming red and purple color. I even tried distracting myself by mindlessly surfing the internet. Finally, when I realized I was so tired I may fall asleep on the stairs before ever getting to my bed, I made the trek upstairs.

Once in my room I went through the same motions I do every single night. I turned on the overhead light, walked over to my nightstand, turned on the lamp, bumped down the air conditioner (via remote), went around to Mike's side and fixed the covers so they are just right, inflated his side of the bed (has a hole and deflates every day ... I detest the sleep number beds!) and then, after turning off the overhead light, took my pants off. I reached up to turn back the covers on my side and stopped, remarking that it looked like someone was under the covers. I told myself that was silly and grabbed the covers.

And then jumped a freaking foot because, low and behold, someone really WAS in my bed.

When Mike came in Saturday evening he brought this big fake spider and tried to scare me with it by putting it in my food. I was so hungry, no, starving!, no ... famished that I didn't jump, scream or do anything other than hand it back to him and dig in. This upset him a little. I don't know why they love to try and 'get me' so much but they do. Once in awhile they are successful in their attempts but when you're as hungry as I was, well, I'd have eaten that spider if I had to just to get to my food. Mike took the spider and stuck it to his filing cabinet as there is a small magnet on the underside of it. We both forgot about it.

Sunday morning Wonderboy came over to talk. I might have cried a little bit before he came over so I was sitting with my head in a way that he couldn't see my eyes. (didn't want questions as to what was wrong and whatnot and with my hair, I could hide my face, your face and someone elses face ... lots and lots of hair on my head). I totally didn't realize I was staring at that spider on Mike's filing cabinet. Wonderoy, after awhile, looked over to see what I'd been staring at and then proceeded to have a couple of mini heart attacks. He smacked his hand to his chest so hard I bet it left a bruise. He's terrified of spiders you see and this one has a little bit of size to it. He jumped (in place) so hard it was hilarious. And he did it twice, super fast. I laughed so hard I cried. Since then I've left Ms. Widow all over the house and scared the tar out of both Wonderboy and Babygirl.

I've put her on the side of the oven so that when you come out of the bathroom, it looks like she's crawling up to the top. I've stuck her halfway in an old phone jack so that when Wonderboy pulled the carpet up in Blade's old room, it would jump out at him (oh my word it did, he was so mad, lol). The best one for Babygirl was when I stuck Ms. Widow to my metal front door inbetween the door knob and dead bolt. Thought she was going to fall over backwards she jumped so hard.

So, as you can see, Babygirl has had a need this week to 'get me back' as I've gotten her with the spider several times.

When I pulled my covers down and saw Bloody Mary laying in my spot I had to laugh. After I jumped a foot of course ... I took Bloody Mary by the arm and returned her to Babygirl's room before going to bed. And waking up every little bit thinking I'd heard a window rattle. Or door open. Or footsteps. ... BLARG! Maybe if I hadn't been so busy scratching my foot and arm in my sleep I could have drifted off a bit deeper. As it were, I checked the house out completely, with a flashlight in one hand and a baseball bat in the other, just for peace of mind. As I made my way, room by room, I told myself that I knew there was no one in the house. Then I remembered Bloody Mary in my bed and continued on, opening every door, checking all the windows, looking under tables, ... before going back to bed. She got me. Finally.

I may have told her that if she ever uses Bloody Mary to scare me again, I'll return the doll in pieces ... 'cause I'm sweet like that.

OMG make it stop!

2011-08-24T02:41:00.001-05:00

I have a problem that's driving me completely bonkers. I itch. Especially my arms and feet. Weird, no? I'd say I'm uncomfortable in my skin but that's such an understatement at times it's down right laughable. Third most itchy area is my face, followed closely by my neck. It makes me not sleep soundly which, in turn, makes me feel really tired and super grouchy at times. Tonight, for instance, I wanted to slam a cabinet door so I did. I didn't have a reason, an excuse or anything. I suddenly realized I was really grouchy and wanted to slam a door so I went and did it.

No, didn't make me feel any better. Same with scratching, btw. No relief. And there's no bumps or red spots or ANYthing that can be seen to cause the itching. The three places it seems worse are when I'm touching the tomato plants, in the bed or on my couch. I've wondered if there could be some sort of transfer going on but I've washed my sheets a ton in the last couple of weeks, taken more showers, .... nothing seems to work.

We had a mosquito spawned straight from the bowels of hell in our room one night a couple of weeks ago. Mike and I both woke up with several bites the next morning. Bites in weird places that were covered up in some fashion or other. Other than that, I can't think of any thing that could be in/on our bed to cause the insane foot itching at night, especially since I'm washing our sheets so much. Oh, and it's the top of my right foot to be specific. It's getting on my last nerve. And jumping. Hard.

Since it's bothering Mike and Babygirl (to a small extent) I'm really wondering what's in my house. Plants in the garden make me itch a lot so even though the tomato plants rubbing against me is the absolute worse (of the three top spots ... squash plants set me on fire to the point I won't even go near them now unless forced) I'm not really counting them when trying to figure out what's going on.

Maybe it's a psychosomatic type thing since I'm itching like mad ALL FREAKING OVER right now as I type this post up. Thinking about it making it happen and all that. It's harder to relax than usual and my sleeping times are crazy messed up. I dunno. Really hope it stops as suddenly as it started. Right now would work. I'm way behind on finishing up the last of my lesson plans, the paperwork has to be in the office by Friday and I postponed us starting school by a week because neither Babygirl and I are sleeping worth a damn.

I'm going to go throw an arm-flailing-leg-jumping temper tantrum and then go to bed.

Joking on the tantrum part. But only 'cause I'm halfway afraid that would make me itch more.

Crazy weekend

2011-08-22T14:09:00.001-05:00

Sunday started off in a bad, very bad way. When you take two people who don't get to see each other much but want to, have more going out sometimes than coming in and throw in one being sick and the other being exhausted with life, sometimes things get said that make one cry. That's how Sunday started off, in a nutshell. It may have actually started Saturday evening when Mike walked out to the garden and found a garden FULL of veg to be picked because his wonder son LIED ABOUT SOMEONE TAKING ALL THE VEG! and his stupid wife didn't walk out to make sure the wonder son was telling the truth. Either time. He wasn't happy, especially since the boys (including Bear for when he was in) all promised to help with the garden this year and not a one has done diddly. Mike was super sick and just couldn't do anything so Sunday afternoon Babygirl, Speedy and I hit the garden and picked tomatoes and green beans. I've half a huge laundry basket of green beans! Woot!

I couldn't help but admire how pretty the sunflowers were, standing just above my head (by half a foot or more).

Sunday started off on the wrong foot but turned into a somewhat productive day after all. Speedy and Babygirl joined me in the pool for a bit before I went inside to rest. It wasn't that hot but for some reason, squatting and bending to pick the tomatoes and beans made me feel as if I were about to pass out. Several times. Guessing head congestion or something. I ended the day watching Ice Road Truckers with Nugget snoozing on my roll pillow. He'll roll it until it's up against the back of the couch just right and then take a nap on it. Too cute.

Mike had to leave out Sunday morning, about 12 hours after he got in. Hopefully he'll get a day or two soon as he's headed to deliver in Sioux City tomorrow and that's not far from the house. Fingers crossed! (and let's hope there's a weed that looks like a pepper plant, else I pulled a few pepper plants when working in the garden ...)

Fashion forwards to fright

2011-08-19T13:10:00.001-05:00

Many many moons ago my daughter had her heart set on a My Size Barbie doll that, at first, we could not afford. It was super expensive and we just couldn't justify that much money spent on a big doll. It didn't stop us from wanting to get her one, however, as we knew it would make her the happiest little girl in the world! So we scraped and fretted and, finally, caught that sucker on sale and got her one. See how happy she is to pose with it? By the time this picture was taken she'd had the doll for awhile. Notice how nice and clean and presentable the barbie looks?

My daughter is now 14 years old. She's had this doll for over six years and everytime I suggest giving it away to some other little girl, she says no. She doesn't 'play' with it anymore but over time she's seen fit to 'update it' a bit. Like, for instance, a hair cut.

The long flowing blonde locks this doll came with are no more. Babygirl needs to work on her hair chopping skills a bit I think. Or, maybe this chop-job was to fit a more unique design she had for the doll. Babygirl is very imaginative and creative, and often likes to bring her ideas to life, so to speak. This doll fit right in with a recently hatched plan, one to scare her friends. She wasted no time creating her new look.

Bloody Mary was born.

Babygirl used a dress she could no longer wear to clothe her and get her 'party' ready. She whipped this doll out on her unsuspecting friends during her birthday slumber parties back in May. You've never heard such screaming! OH. MY. GHOD, I just knew someone was going to call the cops on us that night! Over the months since, Squealer has gotten used to seeing this incarnation and no longer screams on sight of it. Wonderboy was up in Babygirl's room one day a few weeks ago, sitting on her bed and strumming her guitar, playing a nice soft ballad when he noticed Bloody Mary sitting in the corner of her room. He jumped to his feet, dropped the guitar and hollered. The doll has that effect on a lot of people. Here's a close up of her face.

Yeah, a face only a mother could love.

I wonder if this is where it all started, the 'face painting' to change the entire look, feel and intention of dolls in her care.

I suppose I can't say much as I used to shave the heads of my sisters dolls. Still, I'd like to dispose of Bloody Mary, not because she frightens me, but because when someone meets Bloody Mary for the first time, a headache is sure to come. Fast. I set her on the floor thinking Nugget would lift his leg on her but even he gives the doll a wide berth. Can't imagine why. Right now she's sitting in my dining room. I'd brought her downstairs after Babygirl left to ride with Mike for the week, but just couldn't bring myself to throw her out.

Yet.

(there are no weird spacing issues in the composer on this post but they show up in the preview. I'd edit the html but I don't wanna)

In which I whine. Again.

2011-08-18T20:01:00.001-05:00

I ran out of a bunch of things this weekend and am waiting for payday to replace them. Things like onions, (I can't believe I'm drawing a brain fart .... I was JUST in the kitchen making a mental list) and other things I've forgotten since the long walk from my kitchen to the office. I mean, I had to cross the entirety of the dining room to get here! Whoof! Anyway, it's starting to cramp my enjoyment of food. I made a huge crock pot of black-eyed peas the other day and sent some to the boys. They taste more like field peas than black-eyes, very earthy, and I've no fresh onion to chop up and add to help counter that. The last two nights I've eaten pasta I made with added broccoli, corn and tomatoes (tomatoes added after I've warmed it up). So now I feel like I've had my yearly quota of tomatoes which sucks as I've got a colander of big ripe ones sitting on my toaster. Sending them home with Wonderboy when he gets in after work tonight so they won't go bad.

What I want is to make cucumber soup. Like, I'm craving it. Someone's picked just about everything that could have been picked from our garden, though. This happened last year and I'm so beyond pissed it's not funny. Our jalapeno peppers are in the herb garden that's near the pool, not the big garden that's at the bottom of our property. I want a great big dog and an invisible fence. Not sure when they're getting the stuff but I'm wondering if it's at night as no one has seen anyone messing around our yard. The peppers being gone kind of rule out the rabbits and deer I'd think. Last batch of the soup I made I added some jalapenos and man, gave it the perfect little kick. So I'm super pissed. No, I'm beyond super pissed. A Twitter buddy suggested motion lights and a camera but it's so far out we'd have to run a power line to do that. I'm guessing. Wonderboy has offered to sit watch at night as someone pushed the window to Blade's old room in from the outside again, but he gets in enough trouble all by himself. I'd rather not add to it.

I set out some burger meat to make me a few burger patties and then remembered I'm out of Worcestershire sauce. It's been so long since I had burger meat without it, I'm not sure I want to try. I also set out a chicken so I can make more broth but everything I envision doing with the meat involves cucumbers or onions or peppers ... I'm whining. Our corn is almost ready and if they get to it this year before we do, OH. HELL. Last year, once it finally hit me someone was for real taking our veg, we started staying on top of it more, checking all the time for something that could be ready to pick. Especially the corn and tomatoes. So someone destroyed our corn stalks. It's so stupid to have to fight for food YOU planted and took care of in your own yard! Maybe they'd like to pay our water bill so they'll see how bad it hurts when they take our veg. I wish!

On a super-serious happy note, I finally made The Pioneer Woman's recipe for iced coffee. Oh. My. Ghod. It's insanely easy and tastes divine. I let mine sit a bit too long and it's stronger than I'd wanted, but extra milk in my glass took care of that. Heaven, that's what it is. And it tastes better than the bottles of StarBuck's coffee flavored Frapp that I usually get from the store. Seriously, it's crazy good stuff! The comments on that recipe suggest freezing left over coffee into ice cubes for future iced coffee use. Never thought of that either. Good idea!

Can you crack a crick?

2011-08-17T00:22:00.001-05:00

My house was a mess after this weekend and I've been moving things around, things like furniture, to clean around and under and whatnot. I did this yesterday, not today, because if I tried it today I'd wind up in the floor sucking my thumb and crying for help I'm sure. I woke up this morning with a crick in my neck so bad I couldn't look to my right. It's still there but thanks to a bit of stretching today, and a nice hot shower, I can look right a little. Before I want to fall to the floor and suck my thumb.

Hoping tomorrow it will be but a mere memory.

So that fart wave I linked in my previous post? (HAHA @ OB! That's hilarious!) I decided I had to share it with family also. I set my Droid up against my speaker, turned the camera on, checked that the video would be all dark and grainy and then, after hitting 'record', played the fart wave through my speakers. Then I sent it to them. It's a dark four second video that, after two seconds, farts. Babygirl said I'm retarded, Mike called me childish and Wonderboy is refusing to give me props by pretending not to know what it was. I'm sure Blade will ignore me and change the subject if I ask him if he got it so I didn't bother. Cracks me up thinking about it, though.

Because I'm childish like that.

I'm listening to Adele's "Hometown Glory" as I type and I can't help but wonder if it's normal to feel you don't have a 'hometown'. What is a hometown? Is it just where you're born and raised or is it the place you feel you belong? If it's the first then, yeah, I have one. If it's the latter, well, never felt I belonged there. I remember growing up fantasizing about the trains when I'd hear them at night, especially, wondering who was on them, where they were headed and where they could take me. I always wondered if they could take me to that place where I'd feel like I was home. Now that I'm older and have Mike, home is where he is. The town is irrelevant.

Having always lived near train tracks, I'd like to again point out that you can't hear the damn trains where I live. That, above all else, is what I hate most about this place. No trains to listen to and fantasize about. /pout

My pit is still hurting, but much much less than a couple weeks ago. Thank ghod! Pain was a little sharp today, made me notice it more. Fastening my bra is easier now so that's cool. Come to think of it, that's about the only time my pit pain makes me think much about it, when I've got that arm behind my back.

Anyone watch Master Chef? I watched most of this season, the one that ended tonight. My pick didn't make it to the final two. Almost made me turn the tv off. The one who did win was the one I wanted gone. Just because. Not sure what it was about them that was such a turn off, but. Wow. Whatever. I've never seen this show before but it's not bad. Not sure I'll watch a new season, but maybe. Would be so much better if Chef Ramsey would obliterate a piece of (cooked) raw food like he does on Hell's Kitchen. Epic!

Wish I could crack this crick away.

Back blast area

2011-08-16T03:38:00.001-05:00

So tonight I'm on the couch watching the telly with Nugget curled up in the crook of my legs. I was kind of halfway aware of him being there (I think) but not really paying attention to him. All was quiet, save for the telly, when I cut this super loud tuba fart. (don't even act like you've never done that) Nugget jumped straight up (scared me!) and stared at me with eyes as big as saucers for a few seconds. Then he leapt over my legs and ran across the room just to stand in the doorway between the living room and my office, and stare at me as though I were disgusting. When I told him to get over it, that he licks his own butt, he cocked his head sideways as if to say 'et tu, brute?'

Makes me wonder if dogs just assume we lick our butts clean, too.

Oh, and because I love ya, here you go.

Cooking up a storm!

2011-08-14T01:45:00.001-05:00

Lest, it feels like it.

I woke up this morning and realized my knee wasn't hurting as badly as it has the last few days. Excited, I knew exactly what I'd do. COOK! I started off by making cream of celery soup since I had a bunch of celery that needed to be used up. Then I got a HUGE pot of green beans from the garden going and decided to slow cook them for dinner. That's about when I started having to take a lot of breaks as my knee was acting up. Figures.

I took the white tubular radishes from the garden and made some pretty mag-nasty radish chips. We had a problem with the watering system that, with exception of the occasional rain, cut off water to half the garden for a couple of weeks.

Yeah, go ahead and toss the rotten tomatoes at me for not catching it.

I was turning the auto watering thing on every day but not walking all the way out to the garden. I had Babygirl and Speedy checking the garden for weeds and things to pick daily but they didn't (and wouldn't have) noticed the problem. Mike found it. He'd come in, thought we forgot about the garden and walked out to have a look in a small huff. I was telling him I had turned the water on every day and he was seeing dried up garden. Once out there he found an big ole deep hole in the ground where all the water went ... because something broke and kept the water from reaching that half of the garden. So we were both right.

Anyway, the radishes were on the side that didn't get watered so they're very hard/fibrous and taste awful. That stinks.

I've been craving roasted onions so along with my spaghetti squash casserole (oh my ghod is it good, especially with homemade pasta sauce!!!) we had the onions, green beans and french bread for supper. I also cut up the rest of the tomatoes I picked the other day and served them up as well. So, as you can see, I didn't cook ALL day, but it sure felt like it. Felt good, too, to be up and doing something that benefits everyone in such an immediate way. Cooking for my family makes me feel all human again.

I'd planned on doing one of those 'stick it in the fridge overnight' breakfast casseroles for tomorrow morning since Bear and Pear are leaving to go back to college tomorrow afternoon. But, Babygirl and Squealer made brownies tonight and. Wow. I've got my kitchen halfway cleaned up but I think the rest is going to have to wait until tomorrow.

I think I hear my pillow calling .....

Loving the lettuce

2011-08-13T01:57:00.001-05:00

We're going to dip in the land of TMI for a minute to explain some of the choices I've made lately. Consider yourself warned.

Last September our lives nose-dived into a big vat of stress starting with my Bella dying. That still chokes me up ... miss her SO much! Then Wonderboy went and got into a heap of trouble and we found ourselves doing the dog paddle in the deep end of the vat. I developed an issue that took me months to figure out. I'm so dumb when it comes to stuff like this whereas Mike, growing up with two older sisters, can spout off about it without even thinking. The only thing I was able to, I think, determine, was that the more stress I felt, the worse it would get. Or come back. Or whatever.

Yeast infection. I hates them.

I think I had one in my early 20's but I'm not sure. In my total idiotness in trying to figure out what was going on, we switched toilet paper, body wash, .... anything I could think of. When Mike finally said 'yeast infection' and brought home some over the counter stuff, I was skeptical but tried it. It gave a bit of relief, sometimes enough so I'd think 'over and out' and then I'd need more. Then I decided it wasn't a yeast infection but something (unknown to me) tied to my monthlies. Long story short, I finally hit Google a week or two ago and found my latest cause and an answer.

The medicine I was on for my armpit is known to cause yeast infections. See, I know I'd finally gotten rid of it as I had a good two weeks of nothing. Not even an iota. It was like heaven! Then, with no warning, Murphy went on a rampage! To say I was pissed doesn't do it justice. I took it personal. My doctor never warned me of the possible yeast infection to come so I was mad at her, too, once I found the antibiotic could do that. BUT, there's an upside. I learned a lot about plain yogurt that I'd have NEVER. EVER. IN A MILLION YEARS!!! figured out by myself.

After I got over the shock of what you can do with plain active yogurt, and where, I gave it a try. When I told Mike about it I did so like a school girl whispering a secret about a boy on the playground. Turns out he already knew. I could have smacked him. Seriously. When I was learning about the yogurt I also saw something else that caught my attention.

French bread is a yeast bread and a no-no when fighting a yeast infection.

Guess what I've been doing the last few months?

I've been eating bologna sandwiches without the bread, spoons of peanut butter instead of on a sandwich with bread, .... all so I could eat french bread when we have it. Which, is like a couple-three times a week. French bread is a weakness for me and I thought that giving up sandwich bread would make it not so bad to eat a slice or two of french with dinner a couple times a week. I had no idea it could 'hurt' me.

Anyway, I said all that to say this. Today Mike grilled some hamburgers I'd made up a long time ago and had in the freezer. They all ate theirs with french bread as I don't have burger buns and I did have a loaf that needed to be eaten. They enjoyed them. I ate mine wrapped in lettuce Mike picked from the garden. Big leaves of romaine. And it was the best burger I've ever had in my life! I did smear a little sour cream on the leaves, but WOW! People have been doing this for, what, 89 kajillion years? I wish I'd tried this sooner. I could totally never eat another burger bun in my life. As long as I've got romaine to wrap a burger in.

Oh, and I tried the lettuce because A) it was so purty and I love me some romaine B) I'm afraid of french bread kinda. Sorta. and C) just to be different. The yogurt worked wonders and now I'm just taking the pro-biotics pill. Just to make sure it's really gone.

Maters!

2011-08-12T01:13:00.001-05:00

Bear and Pear are in for a few days and Babygirl was begging me to make cucumber soup. So I went out to the garden in search of tomatoes for lunches and cukes for soup. We also picked a bit of lettuce, a few peppers and something Mike is calling radishes. When I asked if he could plant some I had pictured the little round bulb looking purple ones. I wanted to try making radish chips to see if we liked them. These big white tube looking things don't look or smell like a radish to me, but he swears they are. Guess I could try them and see?

I think Bear is developing Mike's disdain for soups. They aren't 'manly'. I know for sure everyone else loved the soup but he didn't do his usual raving over my food so I guess the jury is still out. I served it up with a fresh(ly bought) loaf of french bread and sliced tomatoes. Blade won't eat anything with chicken broth in it (since, you know, he's a vegetarian and all) so he had a garden fresh salad. Shame, really, because he LOVED!!!! this soup until he found out I made it with chicken broth.

I told Babygirl that if she'd help me I'd do the soup. I was dragging badly today, exhausted (again, for no reason) and just didn't feel like standing there long enough to peel and de-seed all the cucumbers. She was excited to help and did way more than I thought she would.

I washed them, she peeled, I de-seeded and she chopped them up. Not a bad trade off at all and I thoroughly enjoyed the help. She also made tea and set the table for me, as well as waiting for the soup to come to a simmer while I rested at my desk. I noticed a couple of things after taking this picture.

A) her pants were wet (she was sitting with her legs in the pool before time to cook)
B) I need new counter top covering thingies.

I had to hack off half of this picture to keep from showing just how awfully broken up that thin white stuff that covers my counters is. I see it all the time so I don't always 'notice' it. Ugh. But how 'bout that pull out cutting board? I <3 that cutting board with pink fluffy hearts! Anyway, it's gyro's again tomorrow because I still have a whole container full of cooked lamb, a big bowl of tzatziki and two more packs of pita bread. Yum!