Da Beach

I haven't been to the beach in 4 years, and that last time was in the winter so it really doesn't count. This means I haven't smelled the salt air nor had sand between my toes for almost half a decade.

Rich's co-worker just took an extended vacation to the beach. They took their 9 month old daughter with them. She apparently loved the sand and the surf and had an absolute blast. 

This instilled jealousy in Rich. He had mentioned possibly getting a hotel room down there at some point, but that just isn't feasible with the pet situation that we have.

So today Rich announced that he has off three days next week and that we should take a day trip down to the beach on Thursday. Sounds good to me. However, I'm now trying to figure out the logistics of having a 20 mo old kid who barely eats and spends her whole day drinking milk along. I have sort of figured out the milk thing; we could simply either pack a few bottles into a cooler, or we could pack a half gallon into a cooler and take one baby bottle with us. That might be doable. The lunch situation, however, is confusing to me.

She really only eats nuggets, and she only eats in her high chair. If you try to feed her elsewhere she simply throws food on the ground and ignores it. I had thought of packing a few of her nuggets. I guess I could microwave them first and then pack them in a baggie in the cooler. If we go to lunch somewhere I could put her in the restaurant high chair and then give her the nuggets. This just might work.

Here, are ya happy now?????

To every person who is googling a picture of "Mike Rowe Shirtless" and landing on my blog due to this post,  I have found this for you.

Nice, huh? I personally like the shark jaw, but I'm sure you're all drooling with glee right now.

Now please, take it and leave. Make it a wallpaper. Make it a screen saver. I don't care, just take it and leave.

Socks Part 2

Back when I was pregnant I posted this.

Needless to say I was out of my mind. Livvie never wore a single pair of socks until she started walking and needed them for her shoes. Nowadays I have to deal with these tiny white athletic socks which are about the size of my ring finger, and every time I do laundry I have to make sure all of her socks are accounted for.

This post isn't about Livvie's socks though. It's about the pile of socks that belongs to Rich.

When I met Rich I was astounded by his volume of socks. Apparently he wasn't fond of doing laundry, and instead of washing socks he'd go out and buy new ones. At one point I counted them after they were all clean while I was folding them. He had over 100 pair.

Rich usually wears more than one pair of socks per day. He'll wear his socks to work, and then after he gets changed out of his work clothes he'll replace his socks as well. This, obviously, drives me crazy.

I own 4 pair of socks. They're distinguished from his socks by the Champion logo on the bottoms. I received them for Christmas, because all of my socks had been shot to hell and needed replacing. 

So here's the deal. I refuse to fold 100 pair of socks anymore. I just won't do it. So I pull the load of socks out of the dryer, fish out my own, and then put all of Rich's socks in what has become the "sock bag," which is a giant red Target shopping bag that my mom hauled our presents with this past Christmas.

Rich doesn't fold the socks, so they stay in the bag, intermingled with each other. Every morning he has to dig through the bag to find a matching pair, and it can take up to 5 minutes sometimes. Five minutes that take up time before leaving for work.

He keeps saying that he'll sit down and match them and put them in the drawer, but it never gets done. 

So today I have done a load of socks. In this load there are about 25 pair. I'm a bit sick of the sock bag. I'm actually considering matching and folding the socks. I'm a bit leery though, as if I do it I KNOW it will automatically become my job again.

Opinions please. Should I do it? Should I take the chance? The very idea wigs me out.

Again?

It's been over a year since I dropped my basket, totally coming unglued, fearing for my life and the life of my kid. It was awful. I was convinced I was going to give up and jump in front of a train or something similar.

Every day when I take my medication I'm grateful that it exists. At this point I've been somewhat comfortable in my head for so long (minus the occasional blip) that I can't even imagine life without them. Ok, sometimes I do. Sometimes I feel good enough that I wonder why I even have to be ON meds, and then I remember that's a trap I've fallen into more than once which ultimately leads to despair. I think I gave up on taking meds 3 times before. Three times that ended up with me behaving like an absolute monster, ruining almost every relationship I had.

Remember back this winter when I went hypo-manic and I was posting up to 3 blog entries a day? Well, we're on our way back ladies and gents. On our way back to that place where everything is wonderful, spending loads of money sounds like a good idea, and writing uncontrollably might even be a blast.

Good thing I have emergency meds. I guess I'll start taking them tonight before bed, as if I take them in the morning I'm basically useless for the rest of the day, drooling onto my child's head, nodding off in the rocking chair.

How do I know this is happening? I'm up to a pack and a half of smokes a day. Yesterday I drank 2 shots of SoCo and 3 gin and tonics and 3 beers. It took that 3rd gin and tonic to get me drunk. I felt like a lightweight until I added up the drinks before falling into a stupor and tossing myself into bed at 9 o clock.

I'm also barely sleeping. As much as I love sleep my need for sleep seems to be decreasing, which bums me out because I really want to stay snuggled in the covers with my head buried in a pillow. I woke up at 630 this morning, Livvie woke up at 8, and I never fell back asleep in that time.

So cross your fingers that the emergency meds work, that I don't in fact empty out my bank account, and that I don't bombard you with nonsensical posts about crabs and various types of booze. I'll let you know if they work. I promise.

Lovely

Remember how I said I hate bugs? I hate all bugs, but ticks are highest on the hate list. We live in the woods, so all summer long we have to do tick checks whenever we come in the house.

Well, Livvie spent about 45 minutes outside in her play yard yesterday. I totally did not perform a tick check on her, because I stupidly forgot.

This is a photo I found online of a deer tick. These are the ones we get most frequently because, duh, deer are constantly moving through the yard. The babies are called seed ticks. These are also the most frequent ones we find on us.

So, as I'm sure you have guessed, Livvie got her first tick yesterday. I found bites on her this morning when she got up, and assumed they might be flea bites. Well, I went to dress her about 20 minutes ago and discovered a tick imbedded in her arm pit. It was a seed tick. 

I dug it out and put it in the tick jar, which is a medication bottle filled with alcohol. Alcohol kills ticks. Thank goodness.

I had to mark the bite on the calendar because we now have to watch her for 2 weeks to make sure she doesn't get sick.  

Interjection: I was just rubbing her head and I found another tick in her hairline. This one was an adult lone star tick. Which means the potential for Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. Which might mean dicyclomine. Which might mean puking.

I am thinking we have to go to the doctor on Monday for prophylactic treatment. Again, Lovely.

Doctor is closed on Monday. Spoke with On call doc and he said not to bring her in unless she starts showing flu like symptoms, and to simply watch her for 2 weeks. I sure hope she doesn't get sick. I had Spotted Fever 3 years ago, and it was just awful.

Post # 2: Um, Hell NO

How cute is this face? Seriously, I couldn't resist it.

This is Narnia. I got her when she was a baby. She was about 6 weeks old and bonded with me as if I were her mother. I had her alone at first, until I read online that rats are very social creatures and need their own kind to be happy. So I went back to the store and got her sister, whom I named Andromeda.

Narnia used to hang out with me on my bed, and occasionally she would come up and clean my teeth. That's right, I used to let a rat pry my mouth open and scrape her teeth on mine to get them clean. I know some of you are probably shuddering, but it was a form of affection, and I was enamored with her utterly. She was my most special rat.

Narnia died in the spring of 2000. I woke up one morning to my ex-husband telling me that she has passed away in the night. She was 3 years old. I cried for hours. It was absolutely awful. By this time I was involved in rodent rescue, and I had 55 rats, some that I owned and some that I fostered. NONE of them were as special as she was, and yes, I did say 55. It would take me 3 hours every Saturday to clean their cages and tanks.

So where does the Hell NO come in? Well I was just outside with Livvie and I saw either a rat or a baby possum climb through the grate and under the house. Now, as you can tell, I love rats, but this is unacceptable. Not with a child in the house. Hell, not even if I didn't have a child in the house. God only knows what diseases this thing might be carrying, and I'm probably not the only one thinking Hanta Virus.

So what are we going to do? I'm going to ask Rich to buy baits. Yes, I who love and adore rats am going to poison whomever this is. I abhor traps, since sometimes they can get stuck and starve to death. That's just not cool. At all. So we're going to get baits, place them along the sides of the walls like I learned on Dirty Jobs, and hope that the situation will be taken care of.

Please don't think less of me. I just can't handle the idea of it.

Have a great day.

Go Fish

Well, the new fish has survived for almost 48 hours, which is longer than the first 4 survived.

The other day I scrubbed out the tank really well, washed the gravel completely, and even washed the plastic plants. Livvie and I then went to a different pet store and purchased a red betta, food, and water conditioner especially formulated for bettas.

Got home and introduced him to the tank. Compared to the little plastic container he had been living in, this tank is huge. It's only 2.5 gallons, but it appears to be more than enough room for him. He seems to be loving it.

Once again Livvie couldn't care less, so I guess this is my fish. I named him Arthur since he's red, after Arthur Weasley in the Harry Potter books. I was going to call him Bill but he swam away when I said, "Bill?" He came back when I said Arthur, so I'm assuming he preferred that one.

He doesn't seem to eat very much, but he's already started creating his bubble nest at the top of the tank. Male bettas build the nest because after they mate the female leaves and the male takes care of the eggs and the babies. It would be nice to have this arrangement in my household sometimes.

He's pretty cool. He seems to find people fascinating because when you go up to the tank he swims right over and checks you out. If you run your finger over the front of the tank he follows your finger up and down. He hasn't displayed for me yet, so I might hold up a small mirror to get him to do it.

On another subject, last night I found a cockroach on the wall outside. I told Rich it was there, and he asked me if I had gotten rid of it. Um, with my bare hands? No. He said to pick up something, anything, and smash it. At this point he picked up a bottle of Scrubbing Bubbles that was on the deck railing, smacked the roach with it, and then sprayed it with the Scrubbing Bubbles. The roach then fell off the wall, through the deck slats, and onto the ground. I have no idea whether or not the assassination attempt was successful.

Gimpy McDumbass

That's me.

The night before last I went to bed to watch TV. Hell's Kitchen to be exact. So Rich was lying on the side of the bed closest to the television, and I couldn't see very well. I used my right foot to push myself over a bit so I could prop myself up.

This is the point at which things get ridiculous.

As I pushed I felt a tearing sensation, and I nearly screamed. Yes, I sprained my ankle IN BED.

So I simply laid there in pain for the rest of the night, and pretty much barely slept. By yesterday the pain was intense. I couldn't put weight on my right foot, and managing steps was unbelievably difficult. I really tried not to limp yesterday because I didn't want to get into the habit, but it was hard not to.

So then how did I spend the rest of my day?

I walked into the baby gate. Hard. I tripped over the garden hose and nearly fell flat on my face. And I also slammed my arm into the door jamb as I was going through the doorway. 

I almost gave up and went to bed to stay safe but then remembered bed was where all of this started. So I stayed on the sofa, watching Idol, and hoping that nothing would happen like the remote falling on my head.

After much painful repeated flexing of my ankle this morning it feels a bit better but I still can't turn my foot to the left. Not that I'm thinking I'll need to in daily use, but you never know. So I guess I'll take it easy again today, no running after Livvie at the playground, and I'll continue to wear my sandals so my ankle won't be stuffed into shoes.

Have a great day everyone. Tomorrow I'll post about our new fish.

Thank You Pixar

Livvie is letting me watch pretty much anything I want. This was not the case yesterday when I was trying to watch the new Transformers movie, but her freaking out had nothing to do with what was on TV. She was simply a monster all day yesterday. 

So toward the end of the day I put on Finding Nemo. I personally find this movie hilarious, and it's even better if you've been drinking. I'm actually even thinking of turning it into a drinking game, drinking perhaps anytime a character says "shark bait" or even "Nemo." I think it would work out great.

So yesterday when I put the movie on she calmed down immediately. She sat, literally sat, in front of the movie for the first hour, behaving herself and staring at the screen. I know I've mentioned before how she loves this film, but I can't believe how well it works. It's like magic. It's like kid valium. I can only imagine that the graphics are strong enough that they hold her attention completely. Today we tried Monsters Inc, and she had no interest in it whatsoever. Not as many colors I would imagine.

Now, since she doesn't mind me watching whatever I want on TV now I have no fear that this will turn into another Little Einsteins or The Wiggles. I only put it on for her if she's not currently freaking out, so I would assume she won't connect screaming with getting the movie. That's what she did with the others. She would freak out if the TV wasn't on or if I had something else on, and I would give in and turn on her stuff. In retrospect, not a good idea. Reinforcement anyone?

Whatever works man. Whatever works. It gives me a break for at least an hour, and considering that she's no longer napping I need that break. I can sit on the floor with her in my lap and watch it together. I can actually get chores done which I used to do while she slept. And there's no fussing. None. 

So thanks, Pixar. Ya done good.

Mice from Shirts?

Also known as spontaneous generation.

We have an ant problem. They're everywhere in our kitchen and nothing is getting rid of them. We need to buy Borax, because that's the only thing I've read about that works.

Why spontaneous generation? Because I'll look at the counter, see an ant, squish it, and then a second ant will pop up not an inch from where first ant was. Unless they move faster than light, I can't see how this is happening.

I had to throw out Livvie's Nilla Wafers because they had totally infested them. I do NOT do bugs. Not in my house. Bugs are fine if they stay outside, but it offends me when they invade my domicile.

Did I ever mention that our water turns things blue? I'm talking about everything. The bathtub was blue until I scrubbed it out last week. I can't even use the tap water for Livvie's bottles because it turns the bottle nipples blue in the space of one night.

So here's the deal with that: It didn't really occur to me not to use the tap water for the new fish.

Right.

You've got it.

All four fish are dead within 3 days. If I want to replace them I'll have to use spring water in the tank. I can't believe how much this sucks. I didn't even get a chance to bond with them, although maybe that's a good thing in retrospect.

Have a great Monday everyone.

Better Garden Pictures

I spent the morning weeding and then went to the movies and to lunch with BFF for my birthday. We saw the new Narnia movie, and it was great, although not as good as the first one. It was pretty dark, but that was to be expected. However, the mouse was fabulous.

I ate a gigantor salad for lunch, and drank enough sweet tea that I was floating by the time I got home. That kind of sucked, but the salad was insanely good. I was, however, jealous of BFF's corn on the cob. And her chicken. And her fries. Are you gonna eat that???

Fish

Livvie loves Finding Nemo. She'll stand or sit and stare at it for almost the entire movie (she's unimpressed with the sharks). It's so colorful and beautiful that it holds her attention completely.

So today I decided to get her some fish of her very own. I had a small, 2 gallon aquarium, and it just happens to be Duke Blue. I hadn't used it in years. So I washed it out, filled it up with our well water, and headed to Petsmart with Livvie.

$52 later we had gravel, a filter insert, plastic plants, a new light bulb, plastic tubing, food, and 4 fish. I got 2 small black moors (see above) and 2 small Red Caps (see below). They're types of goldfish, so they don't require a heater, which is good because the tank is small enough that there would have been no room for the fish. On the way home the fish were in a plastic bag with water and air, and I had them in the hatch back of the Escape.

Well, I ended up having to stop suddenly, and the fish rolled all of the way to back of the car. As soon as I started up again they rolled back the other way. I could hear the water sloshing around as they embarked on their journey around the back of the car. I felt bad for them, because I have no idea whether or not fish get motion sickness. Probably not as I don't think they have ears.

We got home and I parked Livvie in her high chair while I took care of everything: putting the gravel in, putting the plants in, hooking up the filter, and floating the fish in their bag as I screwed in the new light bulb. Then it was time to introduce the fish to the new tank. I poured the bag in slowly. It didn't matter. One of the Red Caps landed in one of the plants and got stuck, so I had to reach in and free him. Oops.

I carried the tank into Livvie's room and placed it on the dresser. I plugged everything in and turned the light on. The Red Caps swam around in the tank checking things out while the Moors stayed at the top breathing room air like carp. I offered them some food. They ignored it. I looked at Livvie who was standing in the room with me. She was ignoring the tank completely.

So I dunno. I might have wasted $52. Or I could just call the tank mine and hang out with them while Livvie plays in the living room. We'll see. Maybe we'll call it an early birthday present.

Huh

I am going to be 37 on Monday.

I haven't accomplished much, unless you figure in marriage and the kid.

I've been to Canada, Mexico, and Ireland. I've worked about 2 dozen jobs if not more. I've never hang glided, skate boarded, or gone cliff diving.

I've skied. Twice.

I've never really done anything illegal, unless you count speeding. I never even shop lifted as a kid (Dad was a cop. I'd have sooner chewed off my own toes).

My claim to fame is that while I was in Mexico I won a beer drinking contest. How awesome is that?

I want to learn sword fighting. I want to learn how to kick box. I want to learn how to fire a gun, water ski, and drink tequila shots the correct way.

I want time to do all of that. Do I have time? Probably after the kid is older.

I'll talk about all of this again when I'm 40. Maybe I'll at least have learned tequila shots by then.

A Couple of Photos for You

One of our wild roses:

My Garden so far (a lot of the plants are still small):

I am absolutely thrilled today because Rich is replacing the railings on our side deck. They were about 38 years old, and weren't safe for Livvie. The deck wraps around to the back of the house, and this way she'll have a lot more room to run. The back rails are about 3 feet high, but these will be 4 feet high to provide privacy from the road. Also, we'll be able to let the dogs out onto the deck without fear that Ginny will jump over and escape.

My mom is giving me enough cash for my birthday that I'll be able to go out and buy more plants. I have 3 purple Foxgloves in the garden so far, and I want to get 3 white ones as well. I'm also hoping to get some Morning Glory seeds (Moon Flowers to be exact), and after soaking them I'll get them into the ground and let them spread. Rich was averse to watermelons unfortunately. Oh well.

I had planned to take my oldest plants with me if we ever sell the house, but Rich pointed out that if the garden is a selling point then we'll have to leave them there. He's right, but it'll break my heart because my Lavender and Rosemarys are years old and gigantic. One of the Rosemary plants is over 3 feet high now. I'll miss it desperately.

Ok, he's home with more lumber and might need some help out there so I'll end this now. I hope everyone has a lovely Thursday, and I'll catch y'all tomorrow.

May You Live in Interesting Times

Last night Rich and I went out to smoke and almost missed most of Hell's Kitchen because we were too busy watching a bat hunt a luna moth. The moth kept getting stuck in the tree, and then would fly up to the emergency light we have outside. At this point, the bat would swoop in, not too close, but close enough that we could tell that he was hunting. The moth would then get stuck in the tree again, and this was repeated several times until the moth finally decided to pretend it was a leaf. After that we went inside and hoped for the best.

This morning I interrupted two skinks having relations. It was embarrassing for all three of us, and they jumped apart looking guilty. I then petted the male on his back, and he let me for a moment before taking off with his gal. They then hung around the house for the rest of the day.

Just now I went out to talk to Rich and a hawk landed not ten feet from my head. He watched us for a few moments and then flew off, practically ruffling our hair as he did so. He was magnificent.

It's been a fascinating 24 hours. I hope your day has gone as well as mine has.

Oh Great

This morning I left the room for 3 minutes and came back in to discover that Livvie had pulled the wiring out of the phone jack. Rich had to fix it.

Then...

I had her out in her play yard that Rich had built for her and I went onto the side deck to talk to him for a minute. ONE minute. I went back to the back deck and she was gone. I screamed and ran around to the front yard first, freaking out that she might wander out into the road. She wasn't out there. I ran around to the back yard again and found her all the way in the far corner about to wander off into the woods.

Frigging awesome.

So, unless I lock her in the kitchen I can't leave her alone for even one minute apparently.

Have a great day everyone. I'm going to have a beer.

And I can't get this SONG out of my HEAD...

The Discovery Channel has a new commercial. It's pretty damn cool, but the lyrics are shoved into my head so tightly now that there's no room for things like remembering where the Cheerios go.

It's hard to remember sometimes, but I DO love the world, and it IS an awesome place. 

So today, try to think of things that just strike you as awesome. I choose:

Small Electric Green Bugs

Blackberry Bushes

Hose Nozzles

Neosporin

Hepa Filters

Tonic Water

Your Turn. 

Oh great

Looks like there will be no playground trips today. No errands run after noon. 

The winds from this are expected to sustain at 20mph, which isn't bad for grownups, but not great for a baby. Toddler. Whatever you want to call her these days.

It's not going to be too bad this morning, obviously if you can see where Raleigh is on the map in relation to the line of storms. By noon we'll get some rain. By this afternoon the real fun will start.

You see, I have thunder phobic dogs. It started with Emma, and she was bad enough. Then she passed her fear to Ginny, and now having both of them freak out during storms is absolutely horrible. Emma used to simply whine and pace. Then it got worse. She started getting under small pieces of furniture, and if you're not in the room, say if you've gone to bed, she'll pee and shit in the kitchen where she's locked in. Ginny simply stands around and looks concerned, occasionally hiding under furniture.

We used to have to crate Emma during storms, but that ended during one particularly bad storm when she lost her mind and bent the bars of the crate trying to get out. That was the end of crating her entirely, because she started associating the crate with massive weather disturbances, and there's no way to get her to stay in one anymore. This is why overnight now the dogs are locked in the kitchen. The floor in there is much easier to clean up than the rug in the living room would be.

Emma and Ginny now also refuse to potty during storms (or any heavy rain), so tonight should be fun. Regardless of the fact that I have to make damn sure Emma does both before bed tonight so she won't go in the house, the fun part is dragging her, literally, around the yard in the rain trying to get her to go. During rain she'll plant her feet and refuse to move. This is counterproductive to me, because we sure as hell aren't going back in the house, and this just means she'll get wetter, but so be it. Ginny will run to a spot, pee, and then run back to the house, letting me know she'll poop the next day. This doesn't bother me because Ginny NEVER goes in the house. She'd rather die first.

So wish us luck today with the storms. I'm hoping I can make it through today without tearing a dog's head off.

Have a great Thursday. Get outside if you can. :)

Dammit

Bev Perdue won the democratic nomination.

By A LOT. 

She celebrated last night with the teachers, police, AND sheriffs that Mr Griffith mentioned in his ad for her, and Richard Moore got to give a concession speech. That has GOT to suck.

HOWEVER...

Pat McCrory, the mayor of Charlotte, won the republican nomination. He's the one I was hoping would win. There's something about him that appeals to me, mainly how he's lowered the crime rate in Charlotte, how he's planning on making sure taxes in this state don't get raised (state taxes here are ridiculous), and his stance on illegal immigration, which is a HUGE problem here.

Now I get to vote republican in November, for the very first time in my life. Yes, I will come to the dark side for the governorship in this state, and I don't mind doing it. Not this time anyway. I don't know if he'll win, because this state has a record of voting democrat for the governorship for I think the past couple of decades. Whatever though, at least I don't have to vote for Ms Beverly.

Mr McCrory's platform was based on three main issues: 

1)Education/Jobs, 2) Better Transportation for increased mobility and 3)
Security and Safety.

Yep, we need all three.

On a far better note for me and my ballot casting yesterday, Mr Obama took North Carolina quite handily with a 14 point lead. I might be a traitor to my gender, but I truly don't like Mrs Clinton. I think she's a phony, she was a carpet bagger in New York, and if it weren't for Bill she wouldn't have a leg to stand on in this election.

While it would be nice to have Bill and his influence in the White House again, I just don't see it as worth it. 

So there you have it. My adventure in voting yesterday, my choice come November, and my joy in finally having someone that I voted for actually win for a change. The last time that happened was in 1992 with Bill. That WAS 1992, right?  

Have a great Wednesday. We'll leave politics behind tomorrow. :)

I Voted

I didn't decide on the gubernatorial primary choice until I actually had the pen in my hand. I got to the booth, looked down at the paper, and filled in the circle for Richard Moore.

I don't even know if I made the right decision, and it might not even matter as Bev Perdue has had the lead in the state for several weeks now. I gave up though, and made the choice not to have someone who looks like a baby eater in office. We'll see.

I also decided that I would vote for him just to spite Andy Griffith.

How ridiculous is that?????

Anyway, have a great Tuesday everyone. I'll see you tomorrow. :)