I know this sounds crazy, but I've actually been busy accomplishing things lately! No, nothing important like curing cancer or manufacturing a calorie free chocolate, but actual THINGS. Like things that have been clogging up my "to-do" list for the last 3 years, or jotted on little sticky notes taped to my fridge, and ones that I thought of in the midst of something else, and then actually remembered to do. Things like finally organizing the garage so that we can fit an actual car in it.

Re-doing the kids table


Dressing my daughter up like a horse

Giving my son a modified mohawk (thicker, not completely bald, he loves it)

trick-or-treating with 2 witches...the big witch

and the small witch...doesn't she look happy?

even more so when I tried to make her wear the hat.

a ghoul type thing

and Captain America...showing his shield

and in the classic crab pose.


so, see? busy. and that's only the things I have pictures of...if you could see the full list, I'm sure you'd be very very impressed, and everyone would want to be me. And then you'd probably feel bad about yourself, and then you'd be unhappy with me for setting such a high standard for stupid accomplishments, and then I'd feel bad for making you feel bad, but a little angry that you were taking it out on me, so let's just not go there.

Oh, and unknown bacteria? E. Coli. AND I figured it out, all on my own. This week...final in lab. Next week, final in lecture. After that I'm on Winter Break!!

We got our “unknown bacteria” assigned in class last night…4 weeks to test the hell out of it and figure out what it is. I’m nervous about it, regardless of the fact that the teacher assures us that everyone in the past has figured out theirs…probably because my only other experience with “unknowns” was in my high school genetics class when, since I was a *ahem* good student, the teacher thought it would be so funny to give me something that would mutate, causing me much grief and hours of endless research at the local university library trying to figure out what the hell I was looking at. Not one of my best school memories.

When crappy au pair got here, she missed her home very badly, especially the food. So, because I am just THAT NICE, I scoured the shelves at several different stores to bring home Thai food, and then I ordered some Thai red pepper seeds and planted them for her in a pot on the deck. Yes, I am THAT NICE. Anyway...look at the gross tomato worm that took up residence! See what happens when you're a horrible person? Your peppers get worms. Karma, bitch.

In all the chaos that has been my life lately, I found that I had too much energy to sit still, so I've been project-ing! No, not projecting, project-ing...as in, finally getting around to all those things I've wanted to finish/start/re-do around the house! Luckily (or maybe unluckily) I'm a note taker...I have more index cards with 'to-do' lists laying around then I care to admit, so I had plenty of projects to choose from...the drawback is, even if I thought of something I should do 8 months ago and by now it's completely slipped my mind, there's a DAMN note to remind me. Anyway...I finished the boys' room...which was really starting AND finishing, since I hadn't done anything except decide that it needed to be done...these are the pics, but they really don't do it justice. I don't know if the light was bad (it was at night) or what, but the colors don't really look exactly like it shows. I sort of divided the room, 1/2 is where the bunk beds are, and the other 1/2 I made into sort of a game-room/lounge area, since big-guy is a "tween" now and always wants buddies over to play playstation and such. The wall where the posters are is painted with magnetic paint (such a pain in the ass, and doesn't really work all that well...avoid it.) and I made the tables and room divider out of PVC and mdf board (tables) and fabric (divider). The boys wanted something "army" but there was no way I was going to camo the walls, so I went with a desert sand color on two walls and sort of a mossy green on the others...then I got them army-ish blankets for the beds and green stripe sheets. I picked up two storage trunks (wicker) with padded tops to sit on at Big Lots, and re-covered them with sort of a "woodsy" fleece that matches the walls, blue fabric, and sheets. Oh, and yes, that is my husband playing the playstation...he's the biggest kid of all. People think I'm joking when I say I have twin 10 year old boys, but really, I'm not.

The boys? They love it. And that's what counts.

New French au pair has arrived. The kids call her Nella, which is cute. Except she hasn’t been around long enough for them to remember remember, so baby girl asks 100 times a day, and little man asks but then doesn't really listen, so sometimes he calls her Banana and sometimes he calls her Vanilla. Close enough. I really like her so far. And I think she was happy to see me leave for work...the hardest part about the last place she was (aside from having to share a 1 bedroom apt. with a family when they were in ny and having to sleep on a cot outside the baby's room in case there was a noise) was the fact that the mom was a stay at home, so she said she often wondered why she was even there...you know if the kids have a choice they'll always go to mom. So, I left her for a few hours with the 2 little ones yesterday, kind of ease her into it, and when I came back she said things were "perfect", and in the time span I was gone she'd done the kids laundry, folded and taken upstairs, practiced letters with little man, made lunch, laid baby girl down for a nap, and was upstairs playing video games with little man (his favorite thing to do EVER), and who knows how much else. So I think the first couple of days, with me or dh there the whole time, she was feeling a little uncomfortable...like she should just hang in the background...so when we left, she finally had something to sink her teeth into. I like her. Hopefully I'll still like her in a month.

I did cry when crappy au pair left. Big fat tears of joy. Then I threw a party. With balloons. And copious amounts of vodka. She didn't even say goodbye to anyone (again), or wish big guy a happy 10th b-day or anything. Bitch whore.

Test was better than expected. I crammed my ass off, and it paid off big time. Note to self: perhaps it would be a good idea to read the chapters earlier than two nights before the test. I was seriously overwhelmed at the amount of information I had to digest...would have been a lot better if I didn't procrastinate so damn bad. Hopefully sometime this weekend I'll get a chance to start reading the stuff we're covering next.

Seen coming out of Walgreens last night...parked in the front row just outside the door was a huge van. In the driver's seat was a woman. A large woman. Our eyes met and I thought it was strange that she had the look of a deer caught in the headlights...sort of trapped and caught off guard. She looked away, and then I saw that she was holding a 3/4 full cake pan, eating with her hands. And I knew. I knew she thought I was judging her, mocking her, making assumptions about her life, her size, her choices. But really, it just made me a little sad. I wanted to knock on the window and maybe give her a hug, and tell her that she was okay. I remember that feeling. I remember hiding in closets and eating everything I managed to sneak from the pantry. I remember taking boxes of cake mix, and a cup full of water, mixing, and eating and eating and eating, and how ashamed I was that I was stealing food from my own house to escape the critical lecture I was faced with any time I ate more than she thought I should. And how you feel like stuffing yourself, or binging like that will make you happy, but all it does is make you feel like shit. Physically, mentally, emotionally...just shit. So I'm sorry I made eye-contact, I'm sorry the lights in the parking lot were so bright, because it's not bad enough to be doing it to yourself, it's even worse when someone catches you.

things have been crazy. between me working insane hours in the wee hours of morning and the late late hours at night, around hubby's schedule since we are sans child care for the time being, and trying to keep the house semi-organized...okay, well, not so much, but at least getting the kids fed and at school, sometimes fully dressed...I need a vacation. crappy au pair is still at the house, she locks herself in her room and disappears for days at a time, often showing back up at 11 at night, ringing the doorbell, which of course riles the dogs and wakes the kids...it's been great. and get this...the family taking her was bitching about having to pay for a plane ticket, and didn't want to house 2 girls while they waited for their au pair to decide where she's going (she turned us down again yesterday...just doesn't want to watch 4 kids), so they've been dragging their feet. now they say they don't want crappy au pair to come until next monday (23rd)...some crap about the wife not feeling well blah, blah, blah, but here's the best part...they bought her a BUS TICKET. How fing funny is that? A small part of me feels bad for her, because that will pretty much suck, let's face it. But the rest of me is screaming "HA. THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR BEING A BITCH, BITCH!". Like that. In all caps.

seriously...read this...the one titled "The house, we shall engulf it in flames, and then we will begin anew."

I fucking hurt myself trying not to laugh out loud.

okay. so we had our meeting on Sunday to get the process started to kick the au pair out. She was so strange. she was sitting there on the couch next to the counselor, but she wouldn't make eye contact with either of us...she was sort of staring off toward the tv (had it turned on to keep the kids occupied), and every time something was said to her, she would say "huh"? and it would have to be repeated. whatever. anyway, the counselor sort of lit into her about taking the car and not having a license and not knowing where the kids were and she was completely unfazed. Like "and? your point?"...unbelievable. then the counselor said something about how no other family was going to let her drive w/out a license and asked when she intended on getting it, and she said "I don't know." So the counselor said, well when I talked to you last Friday you told me that TJ was taking you on monday to get it and she blew up..."I DID NOT! You are making things up! I never said that!" on and on and on. So, the counselor, who kept her temper pretty well, said "well, you know, I DO take notes when I talk to au pairs, and I have it right here that you said that and then I said I found that strange because neither D or TJ had mentioned that to me". So she yelled at her some more (which, hello? this is the person that is going to get you into a new house...wouldn't you be smart enough to be NICE?) and then said, "no, I told you he was taking me to get my social security card" to which I butted in "NO. You've had that for 2 months." Bitch. (that part was in my head). So, carrying on, counselor asked her if she was serious about being an aupair...did she want to go to another family. She said no. So counselor said "well then you go back to Thailand", so then she pretended she didn't understand the question the first time and said that she did want another family, but one with one or two children only. So then counselor said "I have to be able to tell these prospective families about you...what are your good qualities?"...and she said "I don't know". so counselor said "you can't tell me anything you're good at?" and she said "no." So counselor turns to me and asks me, and I have to rack my damn brain to come up with something nice to say about someone I don't like and didn't take good care of my babies. Great. So then at the end, counselor says that according to our contract, she has to stay and take care of the kids until I find a new aupair...so I said, "If it's all the same to you, she'd rather stay with her friend, and we're uncomfortable and tense with her here, and we've already made other arrangements, so she can just move out now." So she packed her bags. Right before counselor left, she said to her "make sure you have a nice goodbye with the kids, since you've been a big part of their life for 6 months and we want to make this a smooth transition..." So, her friend pulls up in front of the house, she takes her bags to the porch and she says to me "thanks for everything" and slams the door. No goodbye to the kids or anything! Bitch. (that one was out loud, but she was already gone)

So, fast-forward to Monday morning, 7 AM...

Regional corporate manager calls me...sorry for the early call, blah blah blah...apparently she got an "emergency phone call" that was patched through to her last night at 10:30...some guy she didn't know claiming that the agency "kicked out an au pair and left her homeless"...turns out, au pair never mentioned to the friend she was staying with over the weekend that she was going to MOVE IN. Friend is also an au pair...when the host family saw that mine was still there, they asked why she hadn't gone home yet and she said "oh, because I'm moving in here for a few weeks till I find a new family" to which they replied..."Um, no you're not." So she spent the rest of the night calling other au pairs, having them call their counselors, and then when she couldn't get any takers, she started calling people she met in her English as a second language class...finally ended up on the doorstep of her teacher (wife of the guy who called) with a sob story about how they left her homeless and penniless, and could she stay for a few weeks and borrow some money. WTF? So, Regional lady says "you've been fed a load of crap" to the guy, and he tells her, "well she can stay here tonight, but she's not moving in with us." SOOOOO....since I'm contracted to her until I find another, and she has no where to live, I had to let her move back in. Counselor told her to stay in her room and out of our way since we'd made other arrangements and she didn't want her bothering us. So far I've seen her once. Although she did ask my husband if she could have her cell phone back. Um. NO.

So Monday, she was supposed to call us and tell us what time she'd be moving back...she called and said she would be home at 9:00 that night. Fine. So, I left oldest boy's last baseball game of the season to be home sort of on time...got there at 9:10...put the kids to bed...did some homework...cleaned the kitchen...went to the garage w/husband to finish the table I'm making...she finally showed up at 11:00! No fing phone call, nothing. So I called counselor the next day and said "this is bullshit. she has no respect for my time, I left my son's game early to be there, blah, blah, blah...tell me realistically, what actual responsibilities do I have to her? do I have to drive her to school? etc" and she said "um, I guess you sort of have to feed her, but other than that I wouldn't do a thing." So she's sort of an unseen creature that inhabits a room upstairs. She leaves us alone and we leave her alone. I imagine it will only be a short time before she completely loses her mind.

So, my way out, is to find a new girl as soon as possible. As soon as the new one is here, the agency has to provide other accommodations for this one. So that’s what we're working on. The one we're calling tonight is German, and, on paper, looks great...we'll see.

TOO. MUCH. STRESS. MUST. ESCAPE.

Oh! And also, my previously mentioned tromp through the field to collect wildflower seeds, landed me 6 more chiggers! Rock on some more. Damn I hate chiggers. I'd never had one in my life until this year, and boy do they itch like a son of a. They should be illegal, I've decided.

Oh yeah...and just because I'm having the best week EVER...of course I managed to kill the caterpillar. And it's getting cold out, and there'll be no more till next summer. I suck.

Still obsessed with learing to winter sow seeds? check.
Still adjusting to permanently muddy and mischevious puppy? check.
Still spending too much time at work not actually working? check.
Other than that, the whole world is upside down right now. Suffice it to say we have the universe's worst au pair ever right now and it's all coming to blows. We want her out three days ago, she wants out three days ago, and the agency (under federal regulation and quite fussy about actually following the "rules") can't make any final decisions until some head honcho gets back in country on Tuesday. Can you say "living hell"? Can you say "world's most uncomfortable living arrangements"? Can you say "oh my God, thinking about the fact that my little one's are at home with her right now makes me want to alternatively throw up and sneak home to punch her in the throat"? I can't sleep. I've been eating like crap. The closest thing I've had to real food in a week was a hot dog and 1/2 a hot pretzel with cheese at my son's baseball game on Wednesday. I've got the stress headache that just won't quit, and my belly hurts. Joy. I'm having sort of a freak out about the whole situation...not only because I hate her with a molten hot fire of a million hells, but because she's still there and I have to swallow back my vomit every time I see her. Also because there's no way to tell how long it will take before we get a replacement, so what the hell do I do with my kids in the meantime? It's going to be scramble city around here...but you know, I'd rather be stressed out and struggling to find people to help me temporarily, and have to talk my boss into fronting me some vacation days from next year to stay with them, and potentially work all day Sat. and Sun. to make up the hours, then to spend one more night with her under my roof. And my poor husband...not only does he have to put up with the palpable tension at home, and my raving lunacy about the whole situation, but, bless his heart (mark this day in history...I'm about to say something nice about him) he's just as upset/worried/anxious as I am. Normally I'm the one totally over-reacting and acting like a rabid momma bear protecting her cubs, and he's the one trying to reason with me and talk me off the cliff...but this time, we are in total aggreement. Which is not only uncommon, to say the least, but sort of scarey. Like if we both think it's this bad, then it is. We're not supposed to "kick her out" and she's not supposed to move out until after the meeting (Sunday) and the final decision (Tuesday, I hope), but she told the go-between that she had made a friend here locally that she wanted to move in with until they found her a replacement host family (actually, she said she was going to move in because they were going to pay her to help with their elderly grandmother, to which the go-between said, um, no, you're here under contract with the government to be an au-pair, and if you leave here you either go to another family or you go home) and we're going to tell her tonight that she should go ahead and move out now, and just come back for the meeting. Hell, if they call me on it, I'll just say we told her she could go stay there for the weekend, and she misunderstood. She's been playing the damn "Sorry, I no understand" card since she got here and getting away with way too much...it's about damn time we got some use out of it. Hopefully, she'll pack her shit, and I'll be done with her. If she does, I'm throwing a huge party tomorrow and you're all invited. Bring your friends, I'll even pop for the beer.

Ohhh...more flowers! www.wintersown.org will send you 6 free packs of seeds for a SASE!

So, here at work, we needed to get some roofing materials onto the roof...long story short, the city here requires that you put some sort of fencing around the roof air conditioners...they claim it's to make the building more attractive from the highway, but frankly, some of these places have just a chain link fence around them, so it's not like it has to be pretty, and it's not like you're fooling anyone, we still know it's an air conditioner, and who the hell, by the way, has ever driven by a building and said "gee that's a nice place...too bad those air conditioners are on the roof" but whatever. Anyway, so we had a wood fence around both of ours, and when we had storms earlier this summer they blew over and damaged the roof and now we need new ones. We decided to go with a white vinyl trellis mounted on a frame...looks nicer, wind can go through it, instead of blowing it all to hell, and it's a ton lighter then the wood. All good plans. The catch is, everyone here with the exception of me, is terrified of heights. So this morning, I had to stand on a pallet, on the forklift forks, balancing the damn trellis pieces while I got lifted 3 stories in the air. Then I had to maneuver the trellis onto the low roof (over the canopy of the door, sort of) without falling off. Oh, and the hook on the safety harness wouldn't "catch", so I was clutching the forklift with one hand and trying to move the trellis with the other. and it's windy. and the forklift sways. Oy. I'm pretty sure both my hands are bruised...they hurt. One from the death grip on the forklift, and the other from the damn trellis that kept catching on the roof flashing and I had to fight with. Now I have to do it again with all the wood for the frames, and then I have to step over the edging, to stand on the low roof and hand all the stuff up to the top roof. Mind you, my heart hasn't returned to it's standard rate yet and that was 10 minutes ago. and now my hands are all shaky with the adrenaline coursing through me. I'm making them go get me a new safety clip before I go up again though...since I know the wood will take two hands.

In other news...we just can't find any chrysalis from the monarch caterpillars...it's been bumming us out. So last night we emptied out the HUGE Costco pretzel container we've had sitting on our dryer to collect loose change, and turned it into a butterfly habitat. We hope. We put in perilite and potting soil, cut a bunch of milkweed, treated it with rooting hormone and arranged it in there, then we took the only caterpillar we could find last night and moved him into his new home. It looks like it will work pretty good, as long as I can figure out where to put the container where
#1. it will get sun
#2. the little one's won't pop the very sophisticated wax-paper and rubber-band top off
#3. the puppies won't knock over and destroy.

We've already talked to the kids about it (which, right, the kids would NEVER do something I told them not to...ha), so I'm mostly worried about #3. And remembering to keep the potting soil moist, and hoping the milkweed roots enough not to rot. Course if it doesn't, I can just cut off some more and replace...but I'd prefer not to. Being as it's just one more thing I'd have to remember to do, and lately, my remembering-to-do-things part of the brain has been overheating pretty easily.

After all the drama this year with the planting of the flowers and the re-planting of the ones I planted in the wrong place, and the subsequent attack on the flowers by the little innocent puppy and her best friend and previous plant attacking boxer, and the wiring of the yard to prevent another plant homicide emergency, you'd think I'd have just about had my fill of the whole flower thing. But you'd be wrong. I have developed an acute case of winter-sowing-obsession that has apparently taken over complete control of my frontal lobe and made it impossible to get anything else done. It seems, as of late, if I'm not reading about which seeds to try, I'm in the yard searching for seed pods, or at the store snatching seed pods off their end-of-the-year-almost-dead plants, or tromping through the field behind work trying to find seeds on wildflowers. I need professional help. And, *oh!* planning! what am I going to put them in? should I put them in this? or this? and where? over here? my husband thinks I'm crazy, and this time, he might be right.

Oh, and I got a 95 on my first micro test...4 more to go!

Nothing like a pair of jeans right from the dryer to knock you off your feeling skinny high horse. Note to self: Lay off the chocolate, and an extra 30 on the treadmill wouldn't hurt.

In other news, my first big microbiology test is tomorrow night. I'm sort of freaking out a little. I've gone through all of my notes and made study cards, and hope to read the chapters again tonight...so far, without taking notes from the book, I've got about 400 study cards. I think my brain is on fire.

Is it bad that I made my husband get out of bed last night at 11:24 to go search and destroy the LOUDEST CRICKET IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD that was chirping from somewhere behind the table in the living room? Seriously. He was THAT loud. It was actually pretty easy to convince him...I simply told him that neither of us would be able to sleep, since if I couldn't sleep I'd make sure he couldn't either. See? Easy.

It probably didn't help that I also made him go outside 20 minutes earlier to see how pretty the moon looked. I tried to take a picture, but the glare from the streetlights messed it all up. So, no picture for you. But, just so you don't feel bad, here's a pic of the little monarch caterpillar one week after the first picture...they grow up so fast *sniff* *sniff*




Seriously...plant some tropical milkweed somewhere in your yard. I'm having so much fun with this damn thing...Most of the big ones have fallen prey to the birds, I'm afraid, but we still have one big, two mediums, and last night I found probably 6 little babies...no bigger than maggots, hidden between the little blooms. And then, and THEN, we found a ton of eggs that must be ready to hatch, because they were bopping all over the leaf...imagine a leaf with 30 mexican jumping beans (mini beans, of course...the eggs are tiny) all attached. And, the kids think it's the coolest thing ever, thus, by the relative property, I must be the coolest mom ever. It's simple math, folks.

Labor day labor...Project: Girls' room.

The room, including 3 coats of paint on the bed, and a pink glitter glaze on the bed and dresser faces, took me three days to do. I scraped the popcorn crap off the ceiling...I hate that crap. Painted, ceiling and walls, primed and painted the bed (was red wood and black wrought iron), re-did the dresser handles, etc, etc, etc.

The girls love it, and yes, that's little man in the top bunk, but it's not his room...he just loves to be in pictures.

Oh, and I did go back and get a hot pink boa to drape over the white framed picture...just to tie it in with the windows...looks good, I think.

In other news...the au pair we have from Thailand is going on her first vacation. Normally, the au pairs we have had go to visit family they have in America, or they hook up with a couple of other au pairs and go see something together. Not this one. This one met a boy online, when she was still in Thailand, that she chats with all the time. And, yes, she's going out to stay with him for a week. Never met him, but they're "just friends" even though he's offered to pay for her plane ticket and let her stay at his place so she doesn't have to pay for a hotel. Don't these people have Dateline in Thailand? She cannot seem to grasp what a bad, bad, bad idea this is. I've tried talking her out of it, but what can I do? She's 24. She's allowed to spend her vacation how ever she wants. But damn. And she's told me, in the past, that she's a virgin and doesn't "do things" with boys because it would be disrespectful to her parents and she cannot do those things until married. Which is noble, sure, but I find it hard to believe that this guy is not going to expect "something" when he's paying for a girl to fly out to New Jersey and stay with him for a week. Call me a cynic if you must, but I just don't believe there's that many "nice young men" out there anymore that meet people online, flirt with them for a year, invite them down and foot the bill, and think they're just going to sit around and talk and maybe see all the great and beautiful sites in new jersey. So, there's a betting pool going on as to whether she'll come back at all. For all I know, she'll marry the guy to get her citizinship and never be heard from again. If not something worse. Oh, and when I walked past the computer the other day, they were chatting with the webcam on, and he was sitting there with his shirt off. That's a "look at me" if I've ever seen one, and I'm sure he thought he was impressing her/exciting her...not that he seemed to be much to look at. This should be interesting. It blows my mind. I mean, America is not the only place where bad things happen...bad things happen in Thailand too, right? I mean, she's got to realize that this is a potentially dangerous situation, doesn't she?

I always forget just how fast a puppy will grow...Sydney's looking long and lanky lately and it's such a change from the little ball of puff we brought home not too long ago. She's still insane though, so it's nice to know some things never change. She has this really adorable habit (only, not really adorable at all) of standing in her water dish and "digging" and "pouncing" all the water out onto the floor. Oy. Makes for a very slippery surface for the two kids that are always moving too fast to pay attention to such insignificant details as the current floor-slipperyness-quotient. There's a lot of slipping and sliding around the house lately, and much crashing ensues. Not to mention the fact that her paws are always dirty, ensuring that any water that may remain in the bowl once the digging and pouncing has lost its appeal is muddy and gross and even on the rare occasions that she doesn't accidentally step on the side of the bowl and dump the remains onto the floor (which is rare), results in little muddy footprints that are actually quite a handy little map, should one care to track the path of destruction that she has a habit to cause. Squeeky toy fluff here, crumbs from a stolen hot dog there, screaming child and victim of said crime against hot dog here, soggy smelly sock stolen from the laundry room there...it's sort of like my own little daily treasure hunt. It's fun, fun, fun. My DH is convinced she's cross-eyed, but I'm pretty sure it's just a little trick your eyes play on you when you're looking at a dog w/two different colored eyes. Though if she keeps smashing into furniture and door jambs at high speed, I may rethink my stance. DD #1 and I have finally got around to getting her into a harness and we took her and the boxer for a walk on Wed. and Thurs. morning before school. She seems to enjoy it...the boxer, while she loves to go for a walk, seems less than amused at having to stop every 5 steps to let us untangle the puppy. I do believe her herding instinct is starting to rear its head, which results in the said entanglement...she's forever circling around and going over and under the boxer...sort of funny to watch, but it does make the leash handling more difficult.

Isn't that sweet? Like mother, like daughter...she may have gotten her daddy's eyes, but by damn, she got her mother's hair...poor little thing.

And, yes, that IS the exact same hairstyle I'm sporting today...why do you ask?

Earlier this spring, when I was spending all of my time and all of my money on flowers and peat moss, I ran across a "save the butterflies!" foundation. Now, here's a little trivia for you, apparently the Monarch butterfly's caterpillar can only eat milkweed. Thus, with all the new development and the destroying of the natural habitats and such, this particular foundation makes its money by threatening kind-hearted saps like me, who obviously cannot be trusted with a checkbook, that if we don't act now, soon the poor little Monarch will perish. So, being who I am, I sent them a small donation in exchange for a "I love butterflies!" sticker that I gave to my daughter, and three of the tiniest little tropical milkweed plants you've ever seen. Seriously. I took one look at them and said to my husband, "well, these should be dead by June". But, joy of joys, apparently they are less "tropical milk" and more "weed", because regardless of my inability to properly read planting instructions indicating rate of growth and size, and also my penchance for digging up and re-planting things 6 or 7 times, they have flourished! Behold!


And here is a terribly fuzzy shot of the little guys happily munching on the leaves as we speak...


And for good measure, my little $5 hibiscus joyfully blooming in the wrong direction (hint: face the house next time little flower, or I will immediately tear you from your home and replant you facing the other direction at which time you will decide to bloom on the backside again. bitch.)

This is the really not very good picture of the huge snapping turtle that tried to eat my foot. He was much more impressive and scarey in person...just couldn't get a good shot without him attaching himself to me in a very painful and permenantly damaging way.

In other news, The puppy has been so very helpful in the garden. And by helpful, I mean of course, ripping out plants, oh so expensive plants, by the roots and flinging dirt all about. It's spectacular, really. Unless you consider the time and the money and the sweat that's gone into the garden this year, and also the money, and then it's not really all that spectacular after all. So back I go to try and propogate more hibiscus, since that seems to be the only thing I've had any luck propogating, and thinking about what to buy (again) to fill the new, empty spaces. On the plus side, those little paws do a fantastic job of tilling the soil. On the down side, she doesn't till in a neat fashion, and I'll be scooping handfuls of dirt off the grass for weeks. Unless it rains before I get to it. And somehow I've lost my very favorite pair of pruners, so I couldn't even begin the propogating last night and now have to remember to do it tonight after I get out of my microbiology class. In the dark. Sweet. So I had to go out last night and buy another collar for the underground fence to keep her out of the gardens and me out of the loony bin. It only took 3 shocks and now she knows that when the beep is beeping, she'd better turn around. Pretty smart little thing. Now, as long as I remember to put the collar on every morning, most of the garden will be safe. There is one little area that isn't covered, so I may have to dig up part of the wire and run it at a different angle...fun weekend job!! I also made this really nasty smelling potion that I got out of a "backyard problem solver" book that's supposed to keep dogs from digging. All natural stuff, but boy does it ever smell bad...I can't imagine she'll want to be sticking her nose into it. Seems like a lot of work, I know, but she was quickly teaching the boxer that "hey! digging is fun!" and that is one lesson I'd prefer she didn't know, thank you very much. Oh, and I took apart the toilet and fixed it all by myself and it doesn't leak. Talk about a productive night.

ha ha HA!

Kristie, you ROCK!

Right. So every day I've been logging in and trying to post a picture of the new puppy, and blogger just happens to hate me, so, yeah, not going so well. And by every day, I mean, when I remember and then I try 48 times because I'm pissed that that stupid little "image uploading" graphic is only partially loaded on my screen and then I have to close it out and try again and I just keep thinking "okay, one more try" and then that turns into another, which turns into another, which turns into 48, and considerably less work done then was intended at the start of the day. So, red-merle aussie with a "bonus" tail and mismatched eyes. Close your eyes and picture her...no, much cuter than that...okay, better.

I also intended on posting a picture I took of the GIANT SNAPPING TURTLE that was in the middle of the road on my way to work yesterday, but then he became the GIANT SNAPPING TURTLE that had made it into the grass by the time I turned my ride around and remembered how to turn the camera on and got out of the car and found him, and got some really crappy pictures of him in the tall grass, in which one shot I tried to put my foot next to him, for size comparisson and all, and managed to take the picture without any part of my foot showing up in the screen at all, plus only 1/2 his tail and I'm pretty sure none of his head. and then a couple more pictures of various turtle parts that were, frankly, much more impressive in person, when you could SEE my foot next to him for the size comparisson, and then I tried to get him to poke his ugly mug out of his shell by gently kicking him in the ass, at which time he turned into the GIANT SNAPPING TURTLE THAT HISSES AND TRIES TO EAT MY FOOT. It was great fun. I'd show you the pictures, but, you know.

And then today, on the way to work, there were two pretty does in the middle of the street, and I was going to take another picture to not share with you, but then I remembered that I can't share pictures with you, and also, I forgot my camera. Which, interestingly enough, is the exact reason you didn't get to see a picture of the sunflower field when they burst into bloom a few weeks ago.

Too late. Blogger won't let me post a picture, but trust me when I tell you she's the cutest puppy ever.

In other news, I've received my Precision Nutrition kit. I like his approach. I'm not so sure how I feel about the fact that he's trounced all possible excuses I might come up with as to why I don't have time to eat healthy. Who am I without the ability to rationalize my eating blunders? Damn him.

quickly...someone tell me all the good reasons that I do not need another dog

Race for the cure was INSANE! So many people, which is great for the cure, but hard to run in! My hips hurt all day on Saturday, from all the weaving and jumping over stroller wheels! I thought for sure I'd be sore on Sunday (hips and knees) but I felt great...this body must be getting used to running after all! St.Louis bread company was there with cranberry bagels shaped like a ribbon...delish! The girls I ended up going with were really fun, even though they all run a lot faster than me, so I felt like I was either going to throw up or my heart was going to explode the whole time. We talked last night at volleyball and decided to do the local Fourth of July 5K...now I just have to work on getting a lot faster before then! I'm having second thoughts about doing the marathon in Oct...truth be told, I've been having 2nd thoughts for months now. It just feels "lonely" to me, going by myself and all...at first my dh was going to go to watch and we were going to make a long weekend w/out the kids, but now that he's changed jobs, he won't be able to get the time off, so it'd just be me. And though I'm sure I could do it, now it doesn't seem like any fun to me, and it's been difficult to motivate myself to go do those long lonely weekend runs. Especially after my dog decided she doesn't go any farther than 6 miles! So, I don't know. I really feel like it'd be more fun to just stay around town and keep doing little races with my new friends, or even by myself, if they're local. That seems like FUN, and not so much WORK, you know? I don't know what to do, and I'm getting all stressed, and my stomach is in knots...I'm afraid to make a decision either way. Ugh.
dh is off early tonight, and there's no kids sports on the schedule, which means I may be able to go back to kickboxing tonight! It'd be my first time back since I started having all the shoulder trouble in Feb. Hopefully I'll get to go and the arm will hold up just fine.

I hate junebugs. No really, I hate them.

Normally I'm a live and let live kind of gal...except mosquitos. I hate them too. And flies, but only when they're in my house. Oh, and also ants. Okay, maybe I'm not such a live and let live, but that's not my point. My point is, I hate junebugs. They give me the heebie-jeebies like you wouldn't believe. I'm not sure if it's the noise they make bouncing off my windows, or if it's the fact that they divebomb me at 45 mph, or if it's just because they look like they just climbed out of some pre-historic swamp and want to bite me. They're icky. I tell you this only because I was attacked last night by a swarm of junebugs. Do junebugs swarm? I'm pretty sure junebugs swarm. Anyway, we got a new storm door, and as it turns out it's apparently big and scary when you're a dog. So I've been trying for two days to convince my dog that the door is, in fact, a door, and not some horrid monster attached to the house, waiting to pounce and suck her heart out. So, yeah, that's going really great, and I spent 30 minutes holding the door open last night speaking in my stupid dog voice, when the junebugs attacked. The first one landed in my hair...which, frankly, is enough to send me into seizures, and then all his brothers joined in. One hit my neck, one on my upper back, one on my left cheek. So, I did what any rational person would do, ran across the back yard screaming and flailing my arms. Then I picked up the dog (I give up, really I do...she won't use the door on her own) and went inside. About 20 minutes later, I was laying on the bed flipping through the channels when I felt something crawling inside my shirt. Yep, you guessed it. JUNEBUG! I swear I almost had to go to the hospital.

In my research this morning I discovered that "When toasted in hot ashes, the internal body parts and juices of the bug congeal into a nugget of pure golden nutrition. After peeling off shriveled legs, wings, and wing case, the remaining orb of nourishment can be eaten one at a time or by the handful.
Toasted June bugs have a surprisingly sweet delightful taste. The flavor closely resembles thick raw molasses or crudely made ribbon cane syrup. It is difficult to eat just one.
Crushed into fine powder, bug-flour added to hot water forms a rich nourishing drink perfectly suited to victims suffering from anemia, dehydration, and other maladies. If mixed with warm milk, it has a malted milk taste.
However, toasted June bugs should be consumed in measured proportions because of the heavy concentration of protein and fat. If eaten in large amounts, the rich oily meal can result in stomach ache or mild diarrhea." from this really disturbing website. I find it interesting that they claim that it's difficult to eat just one. Mmmmm...Junebug flavored Lay's Potato Chips....

The thing is, looks can be deceiving. I LOOK like I’m in shape. I’ve got nice muscles, an okay body fat, and I’ve used up more of my available brain space on exercise facts, nutritional nuggets of info, and transformation techniques then, frankly, I care to admit. But here’s the thing…my cardiovascular level of endurance is totally in the toilet. It’s a fact about me that I try desperately to hide. I even lie about it, sometimes.

I claim I “used to” run miles at a time. LIE.

I claim I love to run. LIE.

Truth be known, I’m the slowest, most irritable “runner” you’ll ever come across. So it makes perfect sense, then, that I’ve registered for a marathon. Right? Right. See, I was feeling kind of blue the other week, getting close to my birthday, feeling kind of goal-less and plan-less, bummed about my shoulder keeping me from working out, ashamed that I was supposed to be starting a running program months ago w/my friend far far away (we decided to do the same “starter” program on the same days and check in with each other as to our progress), and while she’s on week 6, I’ve not really yet started. Blue. Out of sorts. Crabby. And I’ve secretly always wanted to be good at running. You know, not bad enough to actually work at it, but it’s always kind of been there hanging around in my brain, that I’d like to one day be good.

So, screw the 5K…why give myself a reasonable goal when I can completely obsess and torture myself over a looming deadline and 26.2 miles? That just wouldn’t be me. Unfortunately.

So, it’s kind of strange, this new deadline of mine. I’ve never really (in my adult life) had a “performance” goal. I mean, I’ve had improvement goals (increase my bench press), transformation goals (drop some body fat) but I’ve never had a “by this time I have to run this far” type of goal. And it’s kind of freaking me out. It’s kind of a long time for me to try and patiently, intelligently, improve my performance, week by week, mile by mile. I’m an instant gratification kind of gal. I want it done yesterday. It’s hard for me to wrap my little pea-brain around the concept of today I can run to the mailbox and in just this many baby steps I will be running farther then I commute to work each day. So, the point is, today was day one of my new training program, which at this point consists of running as far as I can without wanting to throw myself into oncoming traffic. Which is not that far, as it turns out. And I’m not yet brave enough to tell anyone that I’m “training” for fear that they might want to run with me one day, and, as anyone who has seen me run can attest, I’m less of a runner than I am an old-man-shuffler. So, do me a favor and don’t watch me run, and if you see me, don’t make eye-contact, and please don’t mention it again, because I’m feeling kind of intimidated and insecure and I don’t need you telling me I should lengthen my stride or turn my feet over faster or stop running on the outside of my foot, because I will curl up into a ball and die if I know that you saw me struggling to catch my breath and trying not to trip over the dog leash and leaving one of my lungs in the gutter on the side of the road.

Aside from the BIG AND LOOMING deadline, I’ve made two other goals. After, of course I figure out #1 how to run without looking like a complete jackass, and #2 I figure out how to swallow my feelings of intimidation. One is to, after being able to completely run 6 miles without dying, is to do a HHH run, and the other is to be in good enough shape to attend the speed clinics my local shoe store puts on over the summer, both without totally embarrassing myself.

does anyone else find it incredibly stupid that I've spent over $200 on seeds to plant in my yard this year and it's not even planting season yet.

I need a seed intervention.

I sold my jeep today. Really, it was silly to hold onto it for so long, I mean, it's not very practical to have a '95 Jeep when, the majority of the time, you're carting around 4 little ones. I guess a part of me held onto it because it was my "toy", and the other part was because it reminded me of the past. I bought it back when I was seperated from my husband. It wasn't a pretty seperation, and none of it was my idea at the time. I was devastated. I was hurt. It was horrible. I had wrapped my whole identity up in being "the wife of" and I had basically lost myself, so when the seperation happened, I fell apart. It was ugly. But, after some time had passed, I started to get my act together. I started taking care of myself. I made some new friends, I re-kindled friendships long forgotten, I learned how to laugh. And I made an astonishing discovery...I'm a good person. I'm a worthy person. I am smart and funny and kind, and I didn't deserve the shit I'd been putting up with. And I didn't deserve what it did to my self-esteem. And I didn't deserve being last in line. And most importantly, I didn't deserve to lose myself. And I started getting better. I started laughing more. I made big and important plans. I made silly jokes. I made lots of cookies. I made my kids laugh and sing and dance. I found myself, and I liked what I found. And that's when I bought the jeep. So I think I've been scared. Scared to let go of the tangible reminder of that time...the time that started off as the worst in my life, but ended up as the best thing that ever happened to me. I've been scared that by letting it go, I'd be giving up the lesson. Scared that I'd be selling my soul in the front seat of a '95 jeep. And it seems so silly, really. To identify so much with a kicky little car that you're scared when it leaves, that a piece of you will follow. So, today, I say goodbye. And I hope the memory I have is enough to keep me from forgetting what terrible and horrible things can happen to a person when they forget to care about themself. And I hope the memory I have is enough to keep me from forgetting how I felt with the sun on my face and the wind in my hair, after spending so much time in the dark. I hope I remember that I'm good and kind and funny. I hope I remember to bake cookies with my children and to dance around the kitchen table. I hope I remember to take long walks in the sun and to run so fast I can feel the wind in my hair. I hope.

Oh my god, I'm getting an ulcer. DH is off today and he wants to drill a new hole in the house (our dryer venting is set up really stupid...like it travels 300 feet and makes 14 turns, and is all clogged up and overheated my dryer, so instead of taking it all down, cleaning it and replacing it, and having to repeat the process every 4 months, we decided to just run a vent out the near side of the house, where it should have been done in the first place). Here's the thing though...he's going to screw it up. I hate to say that, but he will, and I asked him not to do it until I'm there, and he's all offended and screaming "I can do it", but he can't. he really really cant. this is totally my department. I mean, last night he came in the house and said "The motor in the miter saw just burnt up right in the middle of a cut" (he was cutting firewood). 10 minutes later my son said "the tv downstairs won't turn on"...DH gets all fired up that everything's burning up, having a total fit. so I said "umm, two things not working at the same time could mean you popped a fuse...did you check the breaker" to which he replied "where's the breaker?" Seriously. this is my department and I don't want him doing this. it's gonna be so screwed up and now my belly's upset cuz it'll take me $200 and 3 weeks to fix whatever he's going to screw up. I need to go cry now.

I got tanked on Friday. I've found that after 4 or 5 vodka's you care substantially less about the pain in your shoulder, that just refuses to go away. At 4:00 in the morning, I got up, took some Tylenol, drank a water and ate a Cadbury Egg. You know, cuz there's nothing better when your stomach is threatening to revolt, then a sugary glob wrapped in a chocolate shell.

So I'm standing at the checkout of Walgreens with a super econo sized box of feminine hygiene products, a diet coke, and a Take 5 candy bar. Now, personally, I would see the hygiene products and the chocolate and figure "well, yeah, that makes perfect sense", but apparently not everyone knows that chocolate is the cure for the pms that ails ya. The lady behind the counter said "oh, are those Take 5's any good" to which I replied "they're my total favorite!". So she says to me "are they like a diet bar?" and then I had to kill her.

First, I thought, maybe I should explain to her that I was going to eat it with a balanced portion of protein so that it would still fit into my nutritional plan, and then I thought, why the hell do I have to rationalize my candy bar to her? Who is she? The calorie police? Bitch.

On Friday I flew into Michigan and spent most of the day at the corporate headquarters of the company I work for.

I haven't been there in a long time...a really long time. And, I think the last time I was there, I was fully and quite obviously knocked up.

Still, exactly how many people can exclaim "you look SO thin!" before you start to think to yourself "why didn't anyone tell me I was a huge lard-ass?"

answer? approximately 18.

This just in: Zicam Nose Spray makes me sneeze. A lot.

That is all.

I seriously cannot stop eating this fucking trail mix. good thing I have like 14 more pounds waiting for me at home.

And seriously? Otter made me pee in my pants just a little. Crop circles and #9 on the top ten list...so funny.

People make things harder then they need to be.

I found the dog a great home...this guy just had to have his french bull put down after 12 years, and has been SO lonely without him...met the dog and in 2 seconds was telling her "come here so daddy can take a look at you"...absolutely fell in love.

So, I called the adoption agency, and he wants me to arrange a time that the guy can come to his office (50 minute drive) to fill out the paperwork. Ok. No. There's got to be a different way. I mean this guy is recovering from a bout of gout (look at me! I'm a poet!), and, frankly, making an appointment an hour away to fill out paperwork is not going to happen. I offered to take the paperwork out to him and then return it to the agency on the weekend when they're here for an event, but the adoption guy is being a jerk about it. Doesn't he want his dogs to go to a good home? You can drive out here to the petstore every weekend, and beg people to take your dogs but then when someone wants one on a Thursday you make him jump through hoops? Oy.

SUCKER.

It's written on my forehead in big black bold indelible ink. I ran into the lady I used to foster dogs for and, of course, they're short foster parents, and, of course, she talked me into keeping a dog until she could find a home. But, damn. She's so flippin' cute!

Is there a particular reason that nine year olds argue about EVERYTHING? It's fucking exhausing.

You know, normal people, when told they'd better hurry up or they'd miss something (say, oh, the bus) would shut up and put on their damn shoes. Nine year olds? They find that a perfectly reasonable time to throw themselves into a frenzy..."I'll never make it in time, you'll be mad at me, I'm gonna get in trouble, I'll be grounded for a year, it's all my sister's fault, she touched my toothbrush, someone messed with my jacket..." in one of those horrible tight whiney voices...

And I woke up this morining thinking it was going to be a good day.

I've watched this 8 times so far this morning. and I'm not done yet.

http://www.planetdan.net/pics/misc/georgebushdrunk.mov

Last night I killed a bird.

I was driving along, minding my own business, 1/2 way through my drive home, and I saw something out the front window. I had enough time to think "what the he..." and BAM it ran right into my windshield. Of course I freaked out, crouched down with my eyes shut and had a little panic attack, because, obviously, I'd completely forgotten about the large piece of glass that would actually keep the bird from hitting me in the head.

It took 10 minutes for my heart beat to return to normal.

You know what they call it when you stand at my front counter and bitch about how our catalog is old and that we don't have a new one out yet and then you give me your credit card to pay for your stuff and the card is declined?

Karma, bitch.

here's a fun little quiz for you...

Q: How stupid does a person have to be to pick up the phone, accidentally let it slip out of their hand, manage to grab it by the cord, swinging it madly in some sort of twitching over-correction which then bonks them in the side of the face right on the eye socket, hard enough to give them a black eye?

A: About as stupid as me.

Just returning from 7 days in Michigan with my family, so my house is trashed with leftover Christmas wrapping and toys galore and now unpacked clothes and snow pants and sleds, and I was just so happy to be home that I left it all and went to bed. Of course, working today, and hockey game tonight, so it may stay a wreck until I get off work tomorrow. At which time I WILL be going to kickboxing, as I haven't been there in two weeks and will miss all of next week as my hub goes to Florida for a seminar.

I think I left Michigan at least 2 pounds heavier then when I arrived, though with all the sodium and none of the water and all of the cookies and cakes and pie and lasagna and more cookies, it feels more like 10. Then today was my day to get back on track, only I remembered that it was the company holiday eat-fest, so, yeah, not so good yet today either. I'm going to attempt to treadmill it tonight, as I've gotten much less brave about running late at night, but we won't return from the hockey game till 10, so I may have to hit it before the game, which means right after work, which is never a good plan with all the kids and the dogs (well, dog, as my other dog had to be put down the week before Christmas) and the kids and the cooking of dinner, and the kids. I was going to hit the gym at lunch, because with all my complaining about how I'm wasting the money and have to cancel the membership and put more into my little collection in the basement, I've yet to actually cancel the membership. But, eat-fest was in full swing and we're a small group and my absence would have been noticed and everyone would call me a scrooge and there's nothing I obsess over more then what people think of me. I know, I know, I'm working on it. Like everything else in my life, it's a work in progress.

So now I've got 3 hours and a little more of work left, and still need to work out and go to Costco and cook dinner and scrape the algae off the fish tank and be done and at the hockey rink at 7:45. Maybe I'll get lucky and the baby will take a late nap and hub can take the boy to hockey instead of it being a family affair. Though then all the hockey mom's will talk about how I'm a terrible mother for missing my son's game. But sometimes you just can't win for losing, you know?