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Yesterday was teeth, today is paint

B just took the kiddos to the inlaws for another trial visit. 

 

His parting words to me were, "I hope you're dressed in rags and are ready to bust ass when I get home." 

 

Translation:  I expect you to be ready to work 'cause I'm throwing you a paint roller the second I return."

I countered with, "Well, I hope that you are appreciative and ready to reward my ass at the appropriate time."

 

Translation:  I'll be ready to work when I'm damned good and ready and, in return, you're throwing me a beer the second it turns noon."

 

Let the games begin.

A day with teeth

My children clearly have inherited some things from their parents.  Duck has my coloring, but looks just like B.  Stealth has B's coloring, but his face is just like mine.  Duck is into music like me, Stealth is a rabid angler, just like B.  Duck's moodiness = B, his temper = me.  Stealth's sense of humor = B, his creativity = well, both of us.

 

But they have also inherited some not so appealing things, too.  Namely horrible teeth.

 

Mine have always been straight, I've never needed braces.  B needed braces forever, but now has perfectly straight teeth.  The boys, thus far, seem to have straight teeth like me, but they also have gotten the rotten teeth from my side of the family.  Yep, they get brushed and flossed and rinsed at least twice a day, but still, they are rotten.  Duck has had 4 root canals and a filling and Stealth has had a filling - that fell out.  AGH.

 

So today we went to a new dentist (don't even get me started on the catastrophe that was the last dentist,) and let me just say, I *LOVE* this new dentist.  He's in town (instead of driving 30 miles,) the office is clean and decorated with art, the folks are nice, the office manager (and hygienist, etc.) is a dream - I'm serious, this guy is so awesome I wanted to steal him.  The dentist himself is lovely, the receptionist is awesome, and get this - THEY HAVE NITROUS!!  Oh thank you, Elvis, for nitrous.  The last dentist didn't have laughing gas and just jabbed the Novocaine needle into my children's mouths without warning and then told them "if you don't settle down, we'll have to go to the hospital right now and you'll have surgery!!!"  (Didn't I tell you it was a fan-fucking-tastic disaster there?)

 

Why am I so thrilled about this laughing gas?  Because we found out today that Duck needs at least as much work done again as he has had done before (yikes, 4 more root canals at least???) and Stealth needs to have the tooth pulled that lost the filling and has a few more cavities that need to be filled.  Those poor kids!

 

At least the dentist sat me down and said, "You are doing *everything right.*  The teeth in both of the boys are so very clean.  I can tell you brush all the time.  It's just genetic.  And, after all, they are just baby teeth.  Duck's molars look awesome!  Don't worry about it, continue to do what you're doing, and we'll just take care of these guys."  Whew.  As if I don't have enough Mama guilt as it is.

 

It's not all going to be done in one visit - we'll split it up into several visits per kid, no more than one hour in the chair at a time.  They are open to doing it on days that work best for us (hooray!!) and really are just so very wonderful.  The boys love these folks -- and so do I.

 

I gotta floss ....

My kind of day

It's Monday, I'm drinking coffee, and it's raining.  I've been up for a little more than 3 hours (B woke me up in the *nicest* way, heh heh heh) and have already accomplished everything I needed to do today, minus changing the bedding, but frankly, I like to do that right before showering and going to sleep, so it can wait.

 

I've made cinnamon rolls, gone to the bank, paid the electric bill, took care of Hank, emailed a client. My kids are happily playing with blocks and Hot Wheel tracks and train tracks and cars and trains and such.  They're making some sort of city, complete with hidden explosives. What can I say, they are boys.  At least it's a team effort, eh?  My dog is sleeping (or pretending to sleep) by my side.  There is no tv on, no music on, it's quiet - with the exception of the rain and my loved ones.

 

For the first time, I'm taking part of our community-wide One Read program.  I'm not sure that I'll participate in any of the group activities, but there's something really neat about reading a book along with an entire town.  I will admit that it's likely that I'm the only one reading this book for the reason that I'm reading it.  Two words: Circus Freaks.  Indeed, that's all it took to hook me.  The book we're reading, Water for Elephants is, so far, amazing.  I'm probably 1/3 of the way through it and I can already say that I cannot wait to read it again.  It's brilliantly written with unbelievable detail - and yet it's not stuffy or hard to get through or anything.  It's fast paced and entertaining and full of dry wit.  I love it.  And I love that today is just perfect for lounging on the couch, listening to the rain, and reading.  Duck and Stealth also have books that they are reading - Duck is reading Scooby Doo chapter books and Stealth is enjoying several Word Bird books.  It's so awesome to look around the room and see my offspring quietly reading to themselves.  Bliss, I'm telling you.

 

I need a new knitting project. I cannot possibly purchase any more yarn until I get rid of some of what I have.  Unfortunately, I have a zillion and twelve partial hanks of yarn or, in some cases, two or three skeins of a particular yarn.  I'm not sure what I need or want to make, but it has to be a Stash Buster project.  Any ideas?  DDFF, I'm looking to you, girl.  I've got tons of worsted weight stuff and some that would take a size 9 needle well -- but it's all sorts of different stuff: wool, silk, acrylic, mohair, etc.  Some solid, some variegated.  AND I have some novelty yarn - ribbon and boa type stuff.  And, of course, a billion and twelve odds and ends of Ozark left over from previous projects.  All I have in mind so far is another bag and honest to moses, do I need more bags? (shut up, you, I know that I will continue to purchase and create bags until I have so many I cannot even open the door to my closet, but whatever ....)  B is begging for me to find a project (he says I'm getting fidgety,) so help me out!!

 

I met with, quite possibly, the most beautiful woman on the face of the planet Saturday night.  She's expecting her third child in July and I would love to be a part of it.  I cannot get this woman out of my head.  She was just ... regal.  Man, I love women.  I'm so glad to be one.

 

Can I just say how much I love B's shaved head?  It's not bald -- just very very short. He's had it like this before, but was also shaving his face then.  It's a whole different ball game now that he's keeping his facial hair ... and he's a bit older.  I love the way he's aging.  He's got a receding hairline and some gray hair here and there (mostly in his beard,) but he's my man and I adore him. 

 

I just heard one of my children call the other child a, "Foul, evil, offensive cockroach."  Apparently, it was all in play as no one seems to be offended!  All the more evidence to stay out of their play and let them fend for themselves.

 

I want a new masthead for my blog.  Anyone have ideas?

 

Ahhhhhhhhh ... the sound of the rain is calling me upstairs to the couch and to my book.  Who am I to resist?

Oh thank Elvis

B made a change today.

 

We no longer have the same do.

 

Actually, he has no hair.

 

I shaved his head.

Happy Father's Day

(For more Father's Day postcards, visit Post Secret.)

It's 6:49 in the morning. I woke up about 30 minutes ago, just in time to say goodbye to B and Duck as they headed off to B's version of Waldon Pond to go fishing. With a cooler in the front seat, a John boat tethered to the rack on the top of the truck, 6 fishing poles, a hiking backpack converted into a tackle box (for hiking, you know,) 6 cans of Coke, 1 thermos of coffee, they headed off to the gas station to pick up the most important part - chocolate doughnuts and bottled water. B has been looking forward to this for days. An avid bass angler, be didn't even take his scum frogs. Nope, today he packed live bait - red wigglers and night crawlers - and bobbers and they are going fishing for blue gill (perch.) Apparently, these blue gill in this pond are huge and so plentiful that they darn near jump into your boat on their own. Duck is gonna have a blast!

Tonight is Stealth's turn.

Sometimes I think that the best father I have ever seen is the one that I married.

On me

I've thought of several things I wanted to blog about over the last several days. Just random things that come to mind to me throughout my daily activities (have you ever noticed how many I's there are in ACTIVITIES??) But, of course, these thoughts only happen to occur when I'm sitting on the toilet, walking the dog, in the shower, after sex, etc. and those times are not exactly conducive to blogging. Guess that's why they have audio blogger or something about phoning in your blogs. But let me tell you something --- you think you get some bullshit on my blog now ... imagine if I actually phoned the crap in!!! Yeah --- I'm not going there. But, alas, my consideration of your interest level has left me in the land of What The Fuck Was I Gonna Write About? Population: 1.





James Brown kicks ass. The end. Loves me some King of Soul. I mean, how can you not love a man who has a live album called Sex Machine???

It's Friday afternoon at 3:52. I have no idea when this will actually post. Truth be told, I started it a couple of days ago. Gotta love saving your drafts.

In the name of full disclosure, I've had a drink or two. I'm not sure I want to get ripped today --- it's more like I'm drinking to soothe the savage beast instead of drinking to burn the house down. It's a blues day, a soy candle and shades drawn, a slow sipping, endless cup of bourbon day, a feel the music so intently you punch the pillow in emphasis kind of day. A slow dance in the middle of cooking dinner, a cry it out silently in the arms of someone you trust, a paint the sky deep purple kind of day. Bottoms up.

Today I accompanied my mother to the settlement hearing for her divorce. I'll not divulge any details here as it is not my story to tell, but suffice it to say that she walked out of the courthouse not one step closer to the end than she was when she woke this morning. Such a disappointment. So, we went to W's to eat lunch and knock back a couple of drinks, which got comp'd! Thank Elvis something went right today. Bottoms up.

The boys went to my in-laws today for the first time since my FIL decided to show what a 3 year old he is. Let me just say this - neither B nor I were at all easy about this, but I needed childcare so I could go to court with my Mom, and we didn't really have any other choice. I called several times to check out the situation there --- all seems to be well and my FIL is behaving nicely and walking on eggshells, as is appropriate. B is picking them up in 30 minutes. Time shall tell. Bottoms up.

In the last week, I have colored my hair and done something funky to my eyebrows. The hair color is a very slight lightening (which, of course, will probably result in a full out bleaching by end of summer 'cause I'm strange like that,) and my eyebrows have changed shape for the first time since I was 16 years old. Yes, friends and neighbors, you read that correctly - I've been sporting the same brow do for 15 years. The other day, I was sitting around watching Days of Our Lives as my kids had their movie time and thought, "Why the hell not?" So I grabbed my tweezers and a hand mirror and went to town. Check out before and after --- knowing full well that the hair color change is not showing up well in pictures. Check out before and after (if you cannot tell, 1) get your eyes checked, 2) the one with the dark hair and jean jacket is BEFORE, the other one is AFTER.) There is another After photo that might be better, but you know, I'm drinking and cannot tell. So we make due with the following photos:

I love Summer tv programming. Seriously. Hells Kitchen, Last Comic Standing, America's Got Talent are about the most sublime choices in programming during the hot, summer (read: drunk off your asses) months. In the Summer, I don't want to be mentally challenged. At. All. Nope, I like the mental peanut butter, brain toothpaste programming that networks plan on, 'cause frankly, I'm tired of being so damned smart all the time. Bottoms up.

I love James Brown, I really do, but man, he cannot do For Once in My Life like Frank Sinatra. Sorry, James. Cannot be done.

My friend, SS, is having a baby in a few months in New Zealand. I'm thrilled about her having another child, but am sad that I won't be with her while she's bringing her first son into the world. I just kept thinking that I needed to somehow honor this little one's coming into the world, so I'm doing a pro-bono birth here in my town in the name of her soon to be born son. SS, I hope you can feel the love. Love you, Mama. Bottoms up.

And having said all of that, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, I'm NOT on call at the moment. Soooo, Bottoms up.

So, I've been keeping in touch with my ex-husband. I must say, it's highly entertaining. I have forgotten what a hoot he is --- when you're not legally, emotionally, physically, mentally, practically responsible for him, that is. Now that I can watch his insanity from a very safe distance, it cracks me up. I remember the good parts of him, and I'm so glad to be able to do so. He's a really good boy -- just not a good man. But lord almighty, if there were an award for unlikely arrests, my ex-husband would not only have several of those awards, he would be the name sake for such awards. That cat is sooooooooooo messed up, I'm gonna start calling him Murphy. Thank you, Elvis, that I am no longer married to the fool, but thank you for allowing me to be able to step back and say, "Holy crap, that guy is a walking sitcom." A sitcom that I'd love to watch but will never ever star in again. Bottoms up.

Dinner needs to be made. My glass is empty.

Bottoms up.

Crisis Averted

All was needed was one drink and some faith in my man.

 

 

I need several stiff drinks.

And I need them now.
Right now.
Several.
Stiff.
Drinks.

And some Beer.

That is all.

Stream of Consciousness meeting minutes

It's 7:10 pm on Monday.  I'm in the office with "The Moon" (the small fluorescent above my desktop) lighting the whole basement alone.  Looking on my desk directly in front of me I see 2 empty beer bottles (from yesterday,) a half empty beer bottle (from today,) a Santana cd, a clothes pin, a digital camera, a can of compressed air, paint splattered sun glasses, and a tube of lipstick - color: Rosy Outlook.

 

iTunes is randomly singing - currently, it's Ani DiFranco Reckoning.   I swear, the next song will be the theme to Maude!   Such is the beauty of iTunes.

 

My dog is laying beside me, panting in his sleep, tongue sprolled out as if in hopes for to catch the magical Milk Bone fairy as she flits from here to doggie heaven.  When I die, I wanna come back as my dog.  He's got a peachy keen life, man.  And he's pretty easy on the eyes.  And finally, for the love of all things beany, I'd be able to fart at will whenever, wherever, without second thought because, dammit, I'd be a sassy assed dog.  Heh heh. Go on with your nasty self, Boy.  I don't blame you a bit. 

 

Sheryl Crow  Can't Cry Anymore

 

There is a strange role reversal that happens in families as the children become adults - and even parents.  I'm thinking of my relationship with my mother as well as the current dealings with my inlaws.  Sometimes, when I'm feeling overwhelmed with emotions or situations or stresses or whatever and need to get some perspective, I try to imagine how I would deal with such situations at age 18 or 19.  When I think about that and am undeniably gut busted with laughter at the inappropriateness or ineffectiveness of the 19 year old reaction, it makes the whole situation come into perfect perspective and my choice is clearly and easily made.

 

Split Lip Rayfield   John

 

My dog thinks he's a cat in one way and one way only - he thinks he can climb trees.  Yes, oh yes, Hank dreams of being a tree climber.  He has been jumping and flailing himself towards the top of several trees in my yard lately in a desperate attempt to show those damned uppity squirrels who the hell is boss in Hank Land, thankyouverymuch.  Today, though, today was different.  Today, my Mr. Hanky, the Christmas Pup (thanks, JM Bill,) managed to climb into my maple tree.  Yes, my friends, all 5 feet of him, tail to nose, was in that Maple tree in my front yard.  What a freak!

 

Mary Chapin Carpenter  Shut Up and Kiss Me

 

Um, this song does not inspire me.

 

Don McLean   American Pie

 

I cannot listen to this song without thinking of Tisha Crawford.  She's no longer Tisha Crawford, but you know, whatever.  The summer between my 8th grade and Freshman years (or was it Freshman - Soph summer -- No I think Fresh....) Tisha had a BBQ party at a lake house.  Apparently this was an annual thing for her and her family, but I was such a friendship circle butterfly, this was the only year I managed to be in her crowd at summer time to be invited.  I remember the bikini I wore (I'm sure I blinded some folks for life -- that was clearly not a pretty picture,) and the food and such.  And I remember listening to Steve Miller's   The Joker and Don McLean's American Pie.  Good times.

 

The Marshall Tucker Band   Can't You See?

 

If thinks don't clear up with my inlaws soon, I'm gonna go fucking insane.  The stress between families, the kids being freaked out about the absence of their grandparents, my Inlaws psycho crazy bullshit thought process is only causing the issue to get worse, and NO ONE WILL LEAVE US THE HELL ALONE long enough for B and I to really think about it in a way so as to make a decision.

 

Speak of the devil, there goes the phone.

 

How freaking interesting --- the next song on iTunes??

 

...  Jack Johnson  Losing Hope

 

 

And on the 7th day, She rested

because it's raining.

 

I've been painting non-stop for 7 days (with the exception of a lovely lunch and some serious bargain hunting with my DDFF on Thursday,) and I'm dog ass tired.  I've showered and shaved and showered and shaved and, while all the blue paint comes off quite nicely, the freakishly strong and resistant primer remains on my feet and legs and arms.  It's been there since Monday.

 

We were going to be able to finish up the house today, so we thought.  We need a super duper speedy once over second coat kind of deal, to paint the trim satin white, and to paint the foundation.  At the very least we'd get it all started and the rest could be finished after work tomorrow, etc.  But nope.  There's a storm.  And we desperately need the rain -- but we also need to finish the freaking house.

 

We would have finished painting a normal house days ago.  B and I make a great team and we both have extensive painting experience, so we have it down.  But, see, our house is not a normal house.  Nope.  The owners before us (or before them?  I don't know) put cedar siding on the entire house.  And then they stained it some sort of strange steel color.  But check it out - they chose bizarre siding that doesn't overlap in a plank style, nope, it has ridges, and they installed it sideways, so you have to go in by hand with a tiny little toothbrush looking thing to get the bloody paint into the "I'm a bonehead idiot who doesn't know how to install my siding" crevices and ridges.  And, as if that wasn't enough, when they stained it, they didn't do the whole toothbrush looking thing, so there is still exposed wood in some places!  So, not only do we have to roll the thing in 1.5 inch knit rollers, we have to go in and cram paint into the devil's ass crack a zillion and twelve times more than once -- with primer and paint!!!   And sweet jesus on white bread, they even pussed out when it came to painting the foundation.  We have exposed foundation on 3 sides of the house.  Our house is on a hill, so part of the basement is under ground, part of it is not.  Two of the 3 sides has minimal foundation exposure, but the third exposed side is 1/2 foundation.  The previous owners painted the foundation on the two least exposed side, but left the largely exposed side unpainted with drips and drops and streaks of the strange steel color from the house.  So that side is going to take 2 or 3 coats of color.  Wonderful, eh?  Fucking morons.

 

Not that I'm bitter or anything.

 

 

 

 

Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch- Changes

Midway

Lotsa Pictures

Where I'll be for a few days ...

We are painting the house. Yep, indeed, painting the house. This is just the first coat of primer. Then there will be paint (dark blue) and trim (white) and foundation staining (gray.) I'm already speckled and banged and bruised and cut and sore and tired and figuring out how it's appropriate to drink beer at 8 am. These photos are from yesterday. More coming ....

Blogger, seriously, WTF?

The new Blogger. Well, yeah, it's pissed some folks off.
I'm not so sure I'm pissed, but I am a bit confused.

I have no idea how the post about the hair styles ended up posting on top of the post about tomatos.

And why the hell will it NOT keep me logged in, even after I click the "remember me" square?

Blogger. Thy name is mud.

Oh Bloody Hell ...

I just realized that my husband and I have the same hair.

Fuck.

This cannot be good.

 

Smashed Tomatos

I have no idea where to exactly start posting, but let me just say right now that FINALLY Blogger saves drafts, so I'm not feeling too pressured. Let's just see if it works, eh?

So a baby girl was born on Sunday, May 27th, at 6:51 pm after close to 40 hrs of labor. This was a very long, very hard, very challenging birth for me and for my clients and, well, for everyone involved. It was one of those births that makes you rethink everything, a birth that shifts your focus, your perspective. Everyone is fine, no doubt about that, but no one is the same. Welcome to the world, Baby S. You've made it clear that you are gonna do things your own way - do them well!

Portable DVD players are the most fabulous things in the history of mankind. I swear to Elvis, if you have children who sometimes travel and who also have eyeballs, go right now and get yourself one. Technology is so advanced these days you can buy one for less than $100. And they pay for themselves within the first hour of use on a road trip. Need more proof? Just check out this testimonial:

"When you are the mother of 2 very active small children, driving through Kansas is enough to make you wanna visit with your good pal, Jim Beam, at 9 in the morning. However, with the aid of my new best friend, Ms. Portable DVD Player with Dual Headphones and Skip Protection, the world is my oyster! Of course, Jim Beam does work well when you have to deal with oysters and is damned near a necessity for dealing with Kansas, but you know, whatever. Just go get yourself one of these things and maybe you won't need those little blue and white pills after all."





I don't know who that woman is - she sure sounds smart!





In other news:





My grandfather's funeral was lovely, simply lovely. I'm thrilled that I went and I'm beyond elated that my family went with me. I would go into detail, but really, there is no need. It wouldn't matter to anyone who didn't know him and everyone who knew him was there - with the exception of my sister, and I've already filled her in on the details. Just for my own memoir reasons, remember the following notes: Vicki, Pam. Ice cream at funerals. Smart for dying with his watch on. Sugar packet. What's a Bible? Duck kissing Isabella. B crying = best used Y chromosome ever. Check photo of Stealth covered in sugar from powdered doughnuts, photo of my Dad, his wife, my brother and his wife, and me and my brood after the funeral (the source for the previous post about hair issues soon to be resolved ... somehow.)





Duck's birthday. Man, I feel bad for that kid this year. Kind of like my brother must have felt his entire childhood living at home - his birthday is December 28th and we were almost always on the road on his birthday. We got home from the funeral around 12:45 am on Duck's birthday (Sunday,) and Maude, we were tired. But we all did well. He, blessedly, decided he wanted store bought cupcakes instead of a home made cake, so we went and grabbed them up. He played his favorite Playstation game with Stealth and B while I made him this birthday card -yes, that's Duck as Spyro, his favorite game! I win Mom of the year award moments later at gift opening ceremony, where Duck is also blessed with Link-n-Logs (Lincoln logs,) a zillion and twelve Hot Wheels, some comic books, some mad libs, cash, train, etc. Followed by the clan traversing to Going Bonkers where, indeed, they did go Bonkers while Matriarch of said clan shoves endless amounts of caffeine and sugar into her mouth in order to stay awake long enough to put children to bed. After leaving the source of the Bonkers, we go to Toys R Us where more Hot Wheel madness ensues. Large expenditures of cash follows. Kids come home and play like crazy people and eventually pass out cold. Much garage celebration comences by the adults. Adults climb into bed hours later, thankful to have survived another year and hopeful that they can survive parenting a 7 year old.



B has taken this week off. To paint the house. Yes, it's true that I no longer have:

a bathroom sink

a shower

a bathtub

a bathroom FLOOR



But he took a week off to paint the house.

Ha.

Viva la Bourbon





My sister is in a new place in life, both figuratively and literally. May your journey be all that it's meant to be. May the truth come from all angles. May the roof and walls close in. You see, the way only exists in your center.



DDFF, I dreamed of sushi last night. What night you wanna indulge?

Duckling Little

IT'S DUCK'S 7th BIRTHDAY!!!!

Happy Birthday, my love. I adore you. You're such a sweet soul.
And I know you'll forgive me for waiting to make the big emotional birthday post until tomorrow.
'Cause you're cool like that.

that's better

Last night I just kind of melted down.  I mowed the lawn, had my stiff drink, etc. 

And then I sat down and poured my heart out to B, told him that I NEEDED to have my family with me.  It took a long time but it finally got through to him and now we are all going to KS for the funeral tomorrow!!  

We'll pack up and go get my Mom's portable dvd player so the boys can watch movies, B will be with me in my time of grief, and dammit, I can show my relatives that my family can unite in a time of crisis and support one another.

I feel soooooooooo much relief and support.  And cool, road trip, eh?

9 minutes

I have 9 minutes to verbally bring forth all the stuff in my head.  ready... set...

GO!

 

Grandpa died today.  I'll be going to the funeral alone.  I will be a pall barer. Yes, you read correctly,  I was also a pall barer for my grandmother.  Messed up family, I'm here to tell you.  But I do have to say, there is some healing involved with laying a loved one in the ground.  I'm glad that my hands will be some of the last responsible for Vernon.

 

There's a part of me that is pissed of with B for not attending the funeral with me.  After all, I'm the one grieving here -- doesn't seem hardly fair that I'll be driving 7 hours (give or take) to attend the funeral of my grandfather alone only to have to drive back alone, too.  But, you know, maybe I need that time.  I believe I do.  I can hang with him wanting to comfort me by allowing me to know that my children are safe.... still, I wish he were there with me.  He's done so much for me from here, though. Left me with cash, returned with bourbon.  Taking care of the kids to let me have my one day / night of getting ripped all to hell and saying FUCK IT to the rest.  I'm sure that, when I return from the funeral, the house will be clean, the laundry will be done, there will be a large treat in the garage waiting for me along with a stiff drink and a nice little pick me up that only my husband can provide me.  Heh heh heh.

 

 

The birth.  Crap on a cracker, I haven't written about the birth.  I don't know that I"m going to.  It was a horrendously long and complicated birth, but my client did all that she could and I learned a lot about the human spirit.  And for the first time, I issued the very words that changed my life 5 years ago, "There comes a time when you have to decide to take the power.  You can either decide for yourself to have the surgery, or you can wait for your physician to decide for you.  Where will you find the most empowerment?"  Baby girl born at 6:51 pm, nearly 39 hours from the onset of labor, via cesarean section.  Mom and baby and dad and doula all doing well.

 

1 minute

 

I want sushi.  I really want sushi.  I cannot afford sushi AND a trip out of state for the funeral.  DAMMIT.

 

Someone start saving bail money --- I might have to kidnap a sushi dude and take him to KS with me.  Oy!

Vernon Robert Wells

June 20, 1925 - May 31, 2007

Rest in Peace

Just live that life. It doesn't matter whether it is life or hell, life of the hungry ghost, life of the animal, it's okay; just live that life, see. And as a matter of fact no other way. Where you stand, where you are, that's what your life is right there, regardless of how painful it is or how enjoyable it is. That's what it is.- Taizan Maezumi

Brain spewage

It's a day of uncertainty.  When I'm uncertain, my brain goes on overdrive.  I'm just gonna spill it all here.

 

So here's the deal with being a birth professional - time is wonky.  For example, in most other jobs, you know when you will be going to work, *where* you're going to work, how long you'll be there.  Not when you're a birth professional.  Not at all.  Right now I know my client is in early labor.  Good enough.  I know that eventually she'll be birthing at a hospital about 25 minutes away.  Check.  I know that at some point, I'll be joining her somewhere.  Right on.  But I don't know when (an hour from now? 6 hours?  12??) and I don't know where (her house first?  or straight to the hospital?)  and I most certainly don't know how long I'll be with her.  I might climb into my own bed to sleep tonight --- or I might not get to climb into my own bed to sleep until tomorrow night.  No one knows. 

 

It's as if time somewhat stops when that phone rings and I hear, "I think this is it!!"  Time doesn't matter at that point because, frankly, I'm on someone else's watch.  Sure, I can still go about my daily grind, but always in the back of my mind I'm looking for the quick exit, the best parking place that will allow me to leave easily, etc.  I don't know when anything is going to happen -- it's part of the nature of the game.

 

I wish other folks would get that.  Namely my husband.  Now, B is a great man and he is incredibly supportive.  He loves what I do and knows I'm damned good at it and that I love it (talk to me at 3am tomorrow and ask if I still like it .. oy!)  B has always encouraged me to do whatever I want whenever I want and that's just fantastic.  But good grief, I don't understand why he doesn't realize by now, several several years and countless births into it, that I don't know when I'm leaving and I don't know when I'll be home.  I usually just say, "By Thursday" and leave it at that.

 

Hank barks now.  All the time.  Not at strangers or noises very much (although he does do that,) but he barks to talk to us.  It's unreal.  He comes up to us and does that doggie howl and we all join in unison with him, but then he decides to bark when he's really serious.  I can handle it.  The boys love it.  It's loud and it does hurt my ears if he's close, but good night, Hank is just a talker.  B, however, does NOT dig this.  It's highly entertaining to me to watch B cringe and freak at the barking while the boys and I continue on our party line chat with the dog.  Ruff Ruff, baby.  Ruff Ruff.

 

JM Bill is camping this weekend where there are lions and leopards.  I wanna be there with her.

 

Speaking of Africa, I've been letting the boys watch Roots with me.  It's heavy and hard at times and we have to stop the movie every 10 minutes or so I can answer their questions and such.  It's a 12 hr film, so it's going to take us a long time to get through it.  That's fine -- it certainly took long enough to live.  It's interesting to watch the boys experience the trauma and horrific nature of our history.  It's sad to watch that reality cross their little faces, but it's also so wonderful to see that they instantly understand the grave injustice of it, that it's NOT right, that it makes no sense.  It's a deep pleasure to see the look in their face that says so clearly, "Never again.  Never to another soul of any color, creed, race, religion, sexual orientation, political affiliation, etc.  NEVER AGAIN."  It's kind of like when Duck was mortified to see how eggs are collected on commercial farms and vow that he would only eat free range eggs.  It's a proud moment for me, a proud moment as a parent.

 

JP and her clan is out of school for the summer.  YAY!!!!  This year should be interesting.  Her youngest, D, is terrified of dogs.  Just terrified of dogs.  No matter what size or breed they are, this little "Ima get you sucka" girl is scared of dogs ... and we have Hank.  Hank who is enormous and loud.  Hank who is nothing but a gigantic marshmallow but looks and sounds like a vicious beast.  Hank who brings me my slippers and will kiss you stupid for peanut butter.  He's awesome, but she won't be able to tell 'cause the poor love will be too scared to find out.  Guess we'll be visiting them a lot this summer instead of them coming up here.  Lovely.

 

I'm messing with my blog layout and such.  Expect random changes.  Ha.  Good lesson for life, eh?

 

Stealth has decided that he's going to be a video / computer game wizard.  He's well on his way.

 

Oh there's the phone ....

 

Phone wars, Round 1

Has been officially won by my client.

The phone rang this morning at 7.

Contractions started at 4 am.

In her back.

 

Oy.

 

It's gonna be a long one, folks.

 

 

 

To the leader of BU

Since my girl, DDFF, cannot rightly express herself as much as she wants at the moment, I'm sending my boyfriend to do the job for her.

Standing in the Correction Corner

I stand corrected -- turns out I DO like the random chit chat --- if it comes from the right people.

 

The homeschool picnic was wonderful - a zillion kids playing in the rain, good talks with the Mamas.

 

I believe it's time to re-invest in our homeschool group.  There were not many kids Duck and Stealth's age last year (or in years past,) but this year, there seems to be an abundance!  Watching my two boys play with 4 other homeschooled boys their age was *wonderful!*

 

Contrary to popular belief, I really love it when I'm wrong. 

 

After all, it happens so rarely.

Blogarhythms

I need to get in the shower.  There's a homeschool picnic sort of thing this afternoon and, while I'm not really excited about going, I know it will be good for Duck and Stealth.  I just really dislike the whole chit chat crap that goes on with parents at things like this.  It's what I've always disliked about playdates with random kids or birthday parties where the whole clan has to sit around and talk about Johnny's progress in multiplication or Suzie's newest science experience or Mack's latest discovery of the pleasure of eating boogers.  WHO CARES?

 

I've recently discovered that this tragic need to "talk to the parents" also bleeds into the dog park.  Doggie parents, or at least some of them, feel the need to have lengthy and personal conversations with the other doggie parents at the dog park.  Why?  Yes, I know we all love our dogs and believe me, it's no stretch to get me to talk about Hank for hours on end, but really?  Really?  Really do you need to come running to me and my children and my dog when we walk into the leash free area and start talking to me about your niece and your other dogs and life on the farm as if a) I know you, and b) we're best friends, and c) I care?  I understand the desire to be social, I do.  Believe me, I'm a social person and love to hang as much as the next gal, but honestly?  When I throw a stick into the lake for Hank to chase and I go to the *other* side of the lake while he swims, PLEASE do not follow me.  If I have my kids with me, I will talk to you so they don't witness me being rude.  But if I'm by myself, folks, read and learn - I'm interested in 3 things : My dog, my i-Pod, and myself.  The end.  Unless the Great Pyrenees pair are there (or the Great Dane (Hey Raleigh!  Hey Chester!  Hey Rexie!,) I'm pretty much gonna keep to myself.  Thanks.

 

And while we're on the topic of dog parks, let me just say this right here -- If your dog is not social, do NOT bring her into the leash free area and then accost the other dog owners if our dogs make your dog nervous!  Dogs are pack animals and it is part of their nature, indeed an essential part of their nature, to check out other dogs and figure out who's the alpha, etc.  That means that some dogs bark, some dogs growl, some dogs go a little bonkers.  This is normal and fine.  If you'll watch, most dogs who do this are doing so with their tails wagging and smiling the whole time.  This is social and normal and important and, if you just chill the hell out and quit making your dog nervous yourself, they will be fine.  Let the dogs do the dog thing and in minutes, they'll be swimming and running and loving each other like they were all dipped in chicken treats.   If you know, in advance, that your dog doesn't dig well with others, DON'T BRING THEM INTO THE LEASH FREE DOG PARK.   This is just common sense.  If you don't get this, folks, you don't even deserve to have a dog.

 

I've learned that it's best to let stupid people be stupid and crazy people be crazy because they'll both take you down with them if you try to, even for a second, get them out of being stupid and crazy.  Stupid and crazy never change -- they just add to their numbers.

 

I'm in the middle of this sick and twisted waiting game with my phone.  I'm waiting for the phone to ring.  Could be either a) my client's birth, b) my grandfather's death, or c) my FIL trying to resolve things with me after he fucked up horribly last week and I made him cry as a result of his actions.  Anyone care to guess which one I'm hoping for?  When you figure it out, let me know.

 

DDFF, class tonight?  No?  I know you have the show .....

 

B is the best husband ever.  The end.  Flowers twice this week, a gorgeous card that made me cry, he took the kids on a bike ride AND played with Hank AND is sending me paint shopping. Love him.

 

I need a new dress.  Or a few.

 

My friend, D is marrying E this weekend in Boise.  Lots of my girlfriends are gonna be there.  Love you, ladies.  Rock the Casbah for me.  And whew!  Another game of "I never..." that I don't have to confess to .....

 

Must. Go. Camping.  I'm thinking Tuesday ...

 

 

 

Translation

 Libertas et natale solum.

 

Fine words! I wonder where you stole 'em.

 

-- Jonathan Swift

Aint it the truth?

About the time we can make ends meet, somebody moves the ends.  

 

 

 

 -- Herbert Hoover

Well, I've done that now, time to move on

So yesterday I wrote the poor, woe is me post about everything that is wrong with my life and how I wanted to fix it all with booze.

 

And last night I did take care of it, for the time being, with beer.

 

And now I've done that and don't need to do it again.

 

With every crisis, I take one day to just lose it and be irresponsible.  Just one day.  Sometimes I choose the day.  Sometimes the day chooses me.  Yesterday, it chose me.

 

But today is a new day.  I feel like I've emptied all the gnarlies out and can start building on the intelligence and down to earth nature of myself that has kept me out of the shit pile for over 30 years.

 

So bring it, suckas.  I can handle life and all it's creepie crawlies.

 

Just be sure to bring some Ibuprofen along with you.

 

GAME ON!!!

sometimes things just suck ass

Remember when we were younger?  Remember when we could have some sort of crisis and deal with it at a bar, tits out, tabs paid for?

 

Things ain't the same these days.

 

I'm 31, married, mother of two, friend to zillions, enemy of some (I don't even care enough bout them to count.)  I'm a professional, a business owner (two times over, thankyouverymuch,) an artist, a trainer, a master craftswoman, a joke teller, a drink maker, a midnight toker, baby.

 

But sometimes I wanna be that 19 year old who folks take care of.

 

I'm having a hard time.  There's a lot of stress and loss in my family(s) right now.  Everyone expects me to hold it together --- after all, I've held it together for 31 years thus far.

 

My grandfather is dying.

 

My friend wants to be a mother but she cannot let go of her conscious enough to listen to her heart.

 

My budget wants to spend itself on fine shoes, lovely skirts, and beer, but I feel obligated to buy semi-gloss paint and ceramic tile.

 

I feel guilty about my grandmother's death oh so many years ago. ... enough guilt that I'm sure I'll fuck up my grandfather's death.  That is why I choose to remain here instead of visiting.

 

My husband loves me and trusts me, but thinks I should deal with my grief sober.  What he doesn't realize is that I deal with it all sober and head on for 18 hrs of the day and I only look to get obliterated during the 8 hrs that he's home.  That, to me, is responsible.

 

Lily Allen said it all ....

 

Oh yeah, I'm fine,
Everything's just wonderful,
I'm having the time of my life.

Don't you want something else

 

 

 

 

Vernon, Part II

Last year, I wrote this post about my grandfather, Vernon.

 

I found out today that he is going downhill quite fast.  They will be moving him to hospice care and putting him on morphine.

 

He could have "12 minutes, 12 hours, 12 days, 12 weeks ...."

 

If you have some extra energy, send it his way.  I don't want him to suffer.

Warts, anyone?

zzzzzzzz, a few words, zzzzzzzzzzzz, sushi

I'm sooooooo damned tired.  So tired.  And I cannot sleep.  Well, I fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow ... and then I'm up a zillion and twelve times during the night and wake up, wide awake, so freaking early.  This morning, I actually slept in ... until 6 am, if that tells you anything.  EARLY, I'm telling you.  I just want to sleep.  For a few months.  Uninterrupted.

 

To whomever has snagged my good, new, white t-shirt ----  GIVE IT BACK.  It's been gone for a few weeks now and I'm about ready to freak the hell out. 

 

I'm contemplating taking on a client for free or a very reduced rate.  I haven't done that in years and years and years, but my goodness, I like these people so much and they sacrificed their doula money to have a homebirth (excellent choice, btw!!,) I might just do it for the sheer joy of it all.  Trying to figure out what I want to do about this situation ......  They have offered to barter with me, but to be honest, all the things they offer are things I'm skilled at (didn't I tell you they were so cool?!?!?!) 

 

I find myself being very hungry and yet nothing, absolutely nothing, sounds good to eat.  Ever.

 

I wanna take a bath, but I'm afraid I'll fall asleep and drown.

 

There is a new subdivision in my neighborhood - and another coming in, too.  Now, I'm not a big fan of development, but it does give me a wonderful place to walk the dog and hang with the kids and let them ride bikes and such.  Eh, perhaps urban sprawl isn't all bad.

 

Sushi.  Sushi sounds freaking fantastic!!  But it's totally across town, I'm outta gas, and I'm boycotting gas stations today.  I wonder if the sushi dudes deliver?  California rolls, take me away!!!

 

 

 

B and Hank at Bear Creek

Mother's Day, Shopping Bulemia, and Beer

So the 3 day weekend was glorious!  I'm not going to get into too much detail, but I did almost everything I wanted / needed to do.  The only things left out were mopping the floor and laundry - and who the hell wants to do that stuff anyhow?

 

I found out that my new favorite place in the whole wide world is even cooler than I imagined.  Bear Creek Trail goes from the NE corner of our town all the way to the NW side (for you locals -Blue Ridge to Cosmo!!)  Saturday I took Hank to the doggie park to play and then to walk on the trail and I ended up a few miles away across town!  Who knew?1?!?!?!  Along the way, we crossed bridges and boardwalks, shaded areas, beautiful sunny meadows, wetlands, woods, and, of course, Bear Creek.  It was so wonderful that I took B there with Hank on Saturday night.  Pictures to come ....

 

Yesterday found me walking Hank before 7 am.  I cannot sleep.  I just don't sleep well anymore, so walking is just as good.  There's something amazing about a cool, quiet morning, walking my dog and listening to Erzulie.  Made it home and gave Hank a bath before 9. 

 

I spent the rest of Sunday shopping** and trying on a zillion bras - bought a couple!  I also spent quite a bit of time yesterday giving a woman in my life a proper bra fitting.  The woman was wearing a bra 2 cup sizes too small!!  LADIES, I'm telling you, GET FITTED FOR A BRA!!!!!    She looks 20 lbs lighter and 10 years younger and let me tell you, her girls are finally saluting the sun instead of doing Downward Dog!!!  Nest in line for my bra intervention - my MIL!!  I'm going to revolutionize the world, one tit at a time.

 

I realize that I could just as easily (and happily) spend hundreds of dollars on my dog as I can myself because after I splurged on myself, I nearly bought him every bone and chew and toy imaginable and then (today) I bought him some new clothes, too!    (I'm a huge huge huge advocate for the use of adjustable harnesses for dogs as opposed to collars and have been for years - especially big dogs who can escape collars or who are prone to pulling on the lead.  Wanna know more? Ask me!)

 

**When B asked me what I wanted for MD, I told him, "Cash!"  And of course, he thought I was joking.  It took him overhearing me telling 2 girlfriends, my mother, and my MIL before he realized that I just wanted to go shopping!  He was amazingly thrilled to not have to go shopping for me, thus gifting me with a rather nice wad of cash.  I'm telling you ladies, try it - it works!!

 

So along with the shopping came my usual disorder - shopping bulimia.  B diagnosed me with this disorder several months ago and I have to say, he's quite the diagnostician -- he's right on.  I buy all kinds of things - and then return 90% of it all.  It's true!  Yesterday I bought and returned 3 bras, 2 shirts, and two pair of shorts --- all within an hour.  But the thing is ... I found it all cheaper at another store, so I bought it from the other store and then returned it all to the first!  HEY - I saved $5 that way!  This morning, I went to Petco to get a good harness for Hank and I got him another bone (I know, I have issues.)  I left the store (after dropping a rather large sum of money on a 4 legged fur face,) and went to another store ... only to find the exact same harness at 1/2 the price!  So I went back to Petco and returned the bone and harness I had just purchased 15 minutes earlier.  I do this kind of thing all the time and it drives B insane.  But I'm here to tell you -- I saved $32 doing that!  And that $32 is going to buy me some sushi at some point and it already bought me some ...

 

Beer.

 

I love beer.  I really love beer. Well, I really love this beer.  Good night Irene, I love that beer.  It's tasty and dark and, well, it's just that good.  I see it all the time, on TV, in photos from around the states, etc.  Never the name, just the distinctive yellow labels and I have to scream out "GIMME A SHINER!"  Fortunately, no one has attempted to honor this request by punching me in the eye yet, but I suppose it might happen sometime. No biggie -I'll just put some beer on it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Puppy Play Date

Lookie there, best friends!

Piper and Hank
Sitting in the Mud
Getting all brown like a big Milk Dud
First comes treats
Then comes ball
Watch out next
It's a Free For All!!!

RUN, don't walk

to your favorite place and get yourself some Ray LaMontagne.  Consider it a life or death situation - after hearing it once, you'll never want to live without it again.  Period.

 

 

Thoughts on a Thursday

Because I haven't thrown in any random posts in awhile, here we go in no random order -

It's about to storm. Or so it looks. Now, having said that, it's looked like this off and on for days. Normally, this wouldn't bother me much, but I have to decide - do I take the dog on our afternoon mile walk or do I somehow manage to wear him out playing fetch and catch and hide and seek?

Speaking of Hank - he's amazing. I know you all are going to get so sick of hearing about Hank and seeing pictures of Hank and all that. Kind of like I'm showing off pictures of my newborn --- but I'm telling you all in advance, it's going to be WAAAAAAAAAAY worse than having a newborn 'cause I've always liked dogs more than people. So either puppy up or find someone else to read.

It's Thursday which means that The Office comes on tonight. This show is my hands down favorite TV show and B manages to remember that and not let our kids interrupt me during that time. It makes me howl -- and I like that stupid people don't get it. That's the beauty of irony and dry humor --- it's a built in IQ test.

Did I mention that I have a wonder dog? Let me tell you how cool he is. Today we went to the doggy park (well, okay, we've gone every morning thus far....) and of course, Hank decided to go swimming. And the boys and I decided that he's much too advanced to simply swim, he must swim and fetch. So I started throwing tennis balls into the lake one at a time and he would jump in, swim out to them, fetch them, swim back, and drop them at my feet. At one point, one of the boys threw the second tennis ball out into the lake while Hank was already swimming out to get one. Check it out - my dog not only fetched the one that I threw for him, he swam behind the other ball, batting it with his front paws as he swam, until it reached the bank. He got out of the lake, dropped the ball in his mouth at my feet and then grabbed the one that he had guided to shore and dropped that one in my hand!!!!!!!!!!! I'm telling you folks, Hank is OUTSTANDING! Hell, I'm not that smart! (Okay, this is a phone picture and it is NOT of him doing the two ball trick, but you know, it's pretty darn cute anyhow - note tennis ball in mouth!)

Tomorrow is Friday, the start of a lovely 3 day weekend for me. My inlaws are grabbing the kidlets around noon tomorrow and I'll get them back sometime late in the afternoon Sunday. Ahhhhhhh. I love my kids, I really really do, but I love them even more when they've been gone for awhile and I've had the opportunity to have a few drinks, get laid several times, do some shopping, hang with the dog, sleep in, clean a house and have it stay clean, listen to Kid Rock very loudly in the living room, say "FUCK" whenever I want, and then to balance things out, do tons of yoga and meditation --- before getting back to the sex and cussing, of course.

Hank has at least one playdate this weekend with DDFF's baby girl, Piper, a German Shepherd whom I love to bits (and Piperella is quite fond of me, too.) I'm hoping that she becomes a little more social and can hang with Hank and be good pals. It's possible that we might also get together with K & L's three labs, Huba, LuLu, and Tea (pronounced Tay-uh.) FUUUUUUUUN!!!

My ex-husband is on Myspace and we're on each other's friends lists. It's cool and all - I mean, we were just kids when the shit went down between us. But it's just kind of strange to read his bulletins or messages or whatnot and see things that are very clear references to me - and they are very kind references. He's a good egg, that one. I mean, he's really harmless and honestly deserves a good woman --- but a woman needs a man and he's still just a boy.......

B is smoking again. He's terribly ashamed of it. I have to say, I'm stunned. I've never seen him be unable to beat anything before. Eh, well. That's one monkey that is not on my back - thank you Elvis. But I do have to say, when he brings home O'Doul's Amber and then lights a smoke, I want to scream out, "HEY, Buster, if you're smoking, I'm drinking! Get me a Shiner Bock before I shove that Winston Light up your freaking nose!" Perhaps I'll save that for this long weekend when I can stand naked behind the locked screen door and not let him in until he goes to the liquor store and returns with something appropriate for me to drink.

Ahhhhhhhhh and there's the rain ....

Lily Allen. Love her. I know she's getting tons of play right now and folks are pissy about her cancelling her US tour. I say RIGHT ON!! I love cancelling plans.

My poor nephew is having tons of tummy problems. While it's probably 99.9% genetic, I'm still convinced it's because they put him on formula at 2 weeks of age. I know I know I know - I don't want to hear it, I don't care, I know your sermon already, I've heard it all before and let me tell you, keep preaching it until you're blue in the face - you're still wrong (check the scientific evidence, if you're in doubt.) I'm sure I've offended many of you - and I don't care.. This is my blog, dammit, and I can say whatever I freaking want to and I'm saying it - bottle feeding your baby because of convenience reasons is not the best thing for your baby. I'm a breastfeeding Nazi and I know it. Feel free to disagree with me, I'm well aware that zillions of babies have survived on formula. Note, I said survived. Seeing that baby drinking formula? I might as well be watching someone feeding him cheese whiz. VOM. IT. Of course I don't tell my SIL or BIL this - it's their child, their choice. I respect their right to choose. My tongue is just all bloody from biting it so damned hard.

Duck has just informed me that everyone is perfect except for strangers. Guess I only know strangers.

I have two children up for grabs. Anyone who wants them is free to take them. Today, I have had enough. Come on Noon tomorrow.
Elvis, grant the courage to change the things I can, the grace to accept the things I cannot, and the strength to bitch slap some sense into all those idiots who ruin it for the rest of us.

VICTORY

Sweet mother of purl, B found KONG!!

 

As you were ....

CALL 911!!!

Sweet holy moses, we've lost Hank's Kong! I cannot tell you what this is like other than perhaps a crack addict who has lost his pipe.

MUST FIND KONG!!!

Mama's new baby

So, Hank moved in with us last night and I'm just amazed at what a good dog he is! He's amazing - and has blended seamlessly into our family already. In celebration of making it through his first night in his new home with no troubles, we took him to the dog park early this morning - it will probably be a daily activity since we had so much fun! Here's a link to more pix!