Morbid thoughts update

I am not, in fact, dead!

Since I'm still feeling the effects of anesthesia and am acutely aware that my "filter" is not quite working the way it should, I'm going to leave it at that for now. Oh, and no pictures of my bloody tooth as it came out in pieces. If begged I might post a shot of the bloody gauze I pull out of my mouth every 10-minutes. It's gross and my 4-year old is mightily impressed.

Morbid thoughts

Tomorrow afternoon I'm going to an oral surgeon to have a tooth extracted*. It's not a big deal. Really. So why am I thinking horribly morbid thoughts?

From what I gather, they're going to knock me out for the procedure. What if I don't wake-up? Should I write a letter to my kids telling them how much I love them? Is my life insurance paid up for this month? Does Mr. Tonks know that it's okay if he remarries, as long as Wife #2 is good to our children? Do my parents know I appreciate all they've done for me? Should I call my ex-friend and extend an olive branch?** My house could stand a good cleaning...if I die will people think me terribly disorganized and dirty?

I've been under general anesthesia three or four times before and am obviously still here. During those operations I wasn't worried about not waking up. The difference between those times and now is that I have JP and SG and when it's all said and done tomorrow, I want to come home to my babies.

It doesn't help that last week was not a good week. We had to have a new sewer system installed, our backyard is trashed and is now a big mud pit, I twisted my ankle while digging a trench under our deck (for the aforementioned sewer system), I lost a good chunk of the tooth that's coming out tomorrow and I discovered mold growing on the kids' 6-month old swing set. At this point I'm kind of feeling like, "Okay fate! What's next?"***

But, I can at least go into this "surgery" knowing that today was a good day: we slept in, played, went to JP's favorite toy store (no, not Toys 'R Us- bleh), the whole family saw the very excellent Surfs Up and we had a nice dinner with neighbors. This evening I went for a walk with my friend and enjoyed terrific conversation. In a minute I'm going to pop a couple Tylenol PM so I can actually sleep. Tylenol PM sleeps are always good.

So, should I snuff it tomorrow, I went happy. I love my kids and my hubby and life is pretty damn good. If I survive, maybe you'll get to see a nasty picture of a bloody tooth on Wednesday.

Cheers!

*It was either oral surgery or another root canal. The surgery is going to cost us around $140; the root canal would be around $1000. Since it's my back molar and no one will know it's gone, I opted for the cheapest route.
**If I were a better person I just might but I'm not. I saw her face-to-face a few weeks ago and could barely speak. I think I said precisely seven words. Hmm...if I don't die perhaps will discuss that situation.
**Naturally there are dozens and dozens of things worse in life than what I listed in the above paragraph...but it just felt like one thing after another. The Domino Effect of Life, if you will. I should suck it up and deal, no?

A hearty fuck you to Old Republic Home Warranty

The title pretty much sums it up.

Fuck you, Old Republic Home Warranty! And your little minions, too.

Fuck you, Casey and Enrique, for being rude, arrogant, twats.

I hope your toilet explodes (whilst you're on it) and you are showered in raw sewage.

It's not that hard!

I am inept and, maybe, just a little bit dumb.

Right now I'm "taking a break" from attempting to cover a plate of lemon squares with plastic wrap. I've gone through three pieces so far and none of them are sticking. Nothing like a piece of plastic to make you feel like a total moron.

Shit.

I'm getting the tape.

It came back to bite me

This time last week I was whining about my allergies.

This week my allergies are much better, thank you, but the weather fucking sucks! It's cold. And rainy. And windy. The beautiful flowers that were starting to bud and bloom are dead. Even those that have been covered and protected have succumbed to below freezing temperatures in the evening. The Easter Egg Hunt at my parents' house on Sunday was cut short because it was so stinking cold. JP and SG were dressed for a trek up Everest- no cute spring outfits this year. The worse part? Snow has worked its way into the forecast. Shit. If it's not Christmas I have no use for snow!

*sigh*

Who knew that I'd be whining because my nose isn't runny?

Come back, Spring!

'Tis the Season

I have been hoping and praying for Spring to get here and now it has arrived in full force in all its glory, with green grass, blooming flowers, budding trees and the need to be outside as much as humanly possible. Glorious!

What is not so fantastic is the runny nose, watery, itchy eyes, sore throat and the feeling that I've been smacked upside the head by a gigantic peony teeming with pollen.

Pre- JP and SG I would've stayed inside as much as possible until Memorial Day. Now, with two kiddos who start begging to go outside almost as soon as they've finished their chocolate milk, being a Spring hermit ain't an option. Plus, I finally have a house I love with a yard that is begging for some TLC. I want to be outside gardening and playing in the dirt! My head is spinning with all my landscaping plans, container recipes and trying to figure out what cool thing I'm going to do with my nifty solar powered, color changing, bubble lights.

*sigh*

There is no point to this post. None at all. You'll notice the label distinctly reads WHINING and nothing else. I've got about four more years of allergy shots before I'm done with Springtime Sneezes (at least this is what they tell me).

Right now, I need to go blow my nose.

I'm the Mama

Dammit!

This evening I was talking to my mom. Early in the day she called me on my cell phone while JP and I were stranded* at Costco in a not great (not terrible) part of town. Truthfully, I wouldn't go there at night by myself but during the day it's fine.

Apparently she told my father what I had done who informed her to tell me that he didn't want me taking the kids to "that part of town."

Let's refresh:
1. I'm the Mama
2. I spent 53 hours in labor with JP and four with SG. I have earned the right to take them anywhere I damn well choose.
3. I'm not reckless, stupid or prone to endangering the kids' welfare.
4. I'm 28-years old, own my own home, car and haven't lived with my parents for nearly seven-years. I haven't killed myself or burned the house down. I have, I admit, wrecked many cars**.
5. I'M THE MAMA!!!

I got a little huffy about the lecture and told my mother to remind my father of the above points (not all of them but the general gist) and further reminded her that JP and SG were my children, therefore his opinion on where they did or didn't go wasn't any of his business.

Now she's huffy with me, will probably tell my father about our conversation and he'll get his skivvies in a twist. Next time I see him, I'll get a lecture. In front of my kids.

It's not like this is the first time that this has happened. It happens a lot, usually over little stuff- reminding me to dress the kids warmly, not to go out because the roads are slick, put sunscreen on, etc.

Once again, I have never, ever not taken care of my children! They're always dressed weather appropriate in very cute clothes*** when we go out. They always get fed. They each ride in very safe, very expensive car seats. Child Protective Services has never come to my home (nor will they ever need to). I have never lost or injured one of my children due to negligence. I'm a good mom! Not perfect, maybe not even great but I love my kids more than anything.

I love my parents, too, and I know they mean well but I don't appreciate being second-guessed all the time.

Will I ever truly be a grown-up? Is this because I'm an only child? Worse still, will I do this to my kids when they have kids?

*I was in Mr. Tonks' car and decided to buy an outdoor storage box. It wouldn't fit in his little car so I had to have him come with my larger car so we could get the dang thing home.

**I have totaled three cars. In an 18-month period. The two big ugly accidents were not my fault (truly) and I still maintain that the last car committed suicide by drowning. All three accidents were pre, pre- JP and SG. However I have never lived any of them down.

***They usually look cute. Sometimes the dress themselves (or, in SG's case, insist on certain items) in the same sweet clothes but in more interesting ensembles.

Poop

Our next door neighbors have two large black labs. For reasons I don't understand the prefer letting the dogs go to the small front yard to poop as opposed to their large backyard. The stinky bombs sit there, undisturbed, for weeks on end. They look nasty but smell is worse.

The husband (we'll call him Bob) used to turn a blind eye while the dogs did their business in our adjoining side yard. Until one day last fall when I happened to catch the dogs and Bob in the act, activated my car's panic button, and watched in satisfaction as the dogs tore off toward their owner and Bob's cell phone conversation was cut short.

That was a good day. Now the dogs stay in their yard to cop a squat (this makes me happy) but the poop remains.

Many of our neighbors walk, spend time in their yard, and are outside often. Everyone comments to us about the Poop Yard- as though we have control over it. On warm days or when the wind blows from the North the smell is atrocious. The Poop Yard's aroma drifts and can be smelled from three or four houses away. Gross.

What to do? Bob and his wife seem like nice enough people*, they're DINKS** so they're not home all that often. Aside from the poop their yard is well kept but the smell drives the rest of the neighborhood crazy. Do we ask them nicely to do something about the poop? Go over when they're not there and clean it up? Wear face masks while outside and hope they take a hint? Leave an anonymous note?

Down with the poop!

*I say they're nice enough people BUT shortly after moving in I went over there to ask a question and was horrified to see a hardbound copy of Ann Coulter's book on the sideboard.

**Double Income No Kids

A LOT

When I was but a wee high school sophomore taking J-1 (the prerequisite journalism class) our advisor strode into the room and wrote the following on the board in huge letters red letters.

ALOT = TWO WORDS DAMMIT

A LOT

She went on to list other offending words: your/ you're, its/ it's, their/ there/ they're, etc . You get the picture. More often than not, when I see "alot" spelled that way, it makes me cringe. It drives me crazy and it makes me want to yell, "Two words, dammit!"

I feel much better having gotten that off my chest.