Thursday, November 05, 2009
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
¡Ya Basta!
Which means, "Enough already!" I think I may just have this engraved on my tombstone, if this week is any indication of how the rest of my life with growing kids is going to be.
This morning began with Lula having wet the bed approximately 5 seconds before she would've awoken, anyway. There's nothing like the feeling of hurtling out of bed knowing a urine-soaked mess awaits you! (The only thing that trumps that is a vomiting episode that follows a meal wherein the child in question consumed a Costco hot dog.)
In the next day or so, I have to move the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf in the girls' room to the toy room, as well as Xanthe's dresser and all of my clothes out of that bedroom. I will be shuffling stuff amongst three separate rooms this week, thereby necessitating the long-overdure reorganization of said rooms. That's good, but that's bad, too, if you know what I mean. I am also staring down the barrel of my parents' 50th anniversary dinner (Yay for the folks!), Isaac's baptism (Yay, God!), the start of the school year (thank you, sweet blessed Jesus!), the pressing need to clean out the garage and have a garage sale after school starts, and Eug's LONGEST. TRIP. TO. CHINA. EVER. Oy.
My thoughts of late have run toward pondering what it would be like to tell everyone exactly what you really thought, all the time, no holds barred. That bathroom you redecorated? I told you how lovely everything looked, but I really thought it was the ugliest fucking thing I'd ever seen, and that you wouldn't know what good taste was if it bit you on the ass. Your new hairdo? Oh, merciful Lord - do you even own a mirror? I mean, better to not try at all and look like crap warmed over than to try and wind up looking like that! Your kid is a whiny brat/future serial killer/teen-mother-to-be! Your ass needs its own zip code - for the love of God, put the fried chicken DOWN! You think you're too cool to drive a minivan, but you look like a bull dike driving that vehicle! Grow a spine! Shut the hell up! It's not your family/friends/job that's the problem, it's YOU! Wheee!
OK, OK. Obviously it would only feel liberating for about 0.2 seconds, and at least half the stuff I could say about someone else would be oh-so-apt if turned around on me. I get that. But every now and then, I imagine what it would be like to go apeshit on someone, catalogue their reaction for future, private enjoyment, and then erase their memory of said conversation. (My one wee nod to compassion for today.)
Clearly, the only thing that can truthfully be said about today is: "Make it a Bailey's on ice night!"
This morning began with Lula having wet the bed approximately 5 seconds before she would've awoken, anyway. There's nothing like the feeling of hurtling out of bed knowing a urine-soaked mess awaits you! (The only thing that trumps that is a vomiting episode that follows a meal wherein the child in question consumed a Costco hot dog.)
In the next day or so, I have to move the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf in the girls' room to the toy room, as well as Xanthe's dresser and all of my clothes out of that bedroom. I will be shuffling stuff amongst three separate rooms this week, thereby necessitating the long-overdure reorganization of said rooms. That's good, but that's bad, too, if you know what I mean. I am also staring down the barrel of my parents' 50th anniversary dinner (Yay for the folks!), Isaac's baptism (Yay, God!), the start of the school year (thank you, sweet blessed Jesus!), the pressing need to clean out the garage and have a garage sale after school starts, and Eug's LONGEST. TRIP. TO. CHINA. EVER. Oy.
My thoughts of late have run toward pondering what it would be like to tell everyone exactly what you really thought, all the time, no holds barred. That bathroom you redecorated? I told you how lovely everything looked, but I really thought it was the ugliest fucking thing I'd ever seen, and that you wouldn't know what good taste was if it bit you on the ass. Your new hairdo? Oh, merciful Lord - do you even own a mirror? I mean, better to not try at all and look like crap warmed over than to try and wind up looking like that! Your kid is a whiny brat/future serial killer/teen-mother-to-be! Your ass needs its own zip code - for the love of God, put the fried chicken DOWN! You think you're too cool to drive a minivan, but you look like a bull dike driving that vehicle! Grow a spine! Shut the hell up! It's not your family/friends/job that's the problem, it's YOU! Wheee!
OK, OK. Obviously it would only feel liberating for about 0.2 seconds, and at least half the stuff I could say about someone else would be oh-so-apt if turned around on me. I get that. But every now and then, I imagine what it would be like to go apeshit on someone, catalogue their reaction for future, private enjoyment, and then erase their memory of said conversation. (My one wee nod to compassion for today.)
Clearly, the only thing that can truthfully be said about today is: "Make it a Bailey's on ice night!"
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Buckle Up; It's Going To Be A Bumpy Month
So yesterday I found out that the kids won't be getting out of school for summer until June 17th of next year, due to Labor Day falling a little later than it normally does in September. Ugh. And I still have no clue who their teachers will be, and hence, no school supply lists yet, either. Double ugh.
And while the muggy weather may be getting me down, I still have a lot to look forward to. The diner booth, kitchen table and retro chairs I ordered should ship in the beginning of September. I'm sure you'll know the moment they arrive because my delighted squeals will be heard throughout the tri-state area. And today I found my Summertime 2010 Relief Package: a metal-framed easy-set 15' x 42" pool for the backyard marked down from $349.99 to a mere $87. You can call me a hillbilly for having a cheap above-ground pool in my yard all you want, but I will be one REFRESHED hillbilly, that's for sure. My only goal for next spring will be to perfect my margarita-making skills in preparation for a summer of floating and tanning. (Screw the wrinkles - fat looks better tan, period.)
In addition to the nifty, cheap-o pool, I have also acquired (drum roll, please) my second photography strobe light! No more harsh shadows on one side and blown-out areas on the other! Now I merely need $1700 for a tripod/ballhead, another $500 for the third and final light, the Canon 5D Mark II for $2500, and an 85mm f/1.2L lens for $1900. Oh, and a few hundred bucks for more backdrops and some whiteboard. Care to make a donation?
I'm still thinking about having a garage sale this fall, which is probably the better part of insanity. But I think purging some stuff will ultimately feel good, and if I can do it once the kids are back in school, then maybe it won't be so onerous. Of course, Eug has to take a long trip to China for most of September, so it'll have to be after that. I might need my friends to give me some pep-talks in the hopes of gaining some momentum on this one.
The kids are growing by leaps and bounds, and watching them at this stage has made me infinitely grateful that I had three kids...but also grateful that I didn't have four. Raising children is something so completely overwhelming that you can't properly imagine it until you're IN it. I used to think that having a newborn was tough, and now I just giggle at how incredibly wipe-your-chin-you're-drooling stupid that sounds. Having one - or even two - kids is easy like Sunday mornin', people. I can't even imagine what fresh hell four or more kids would be. I don't think Pfizer makes enough Xanax XR per annum to cover that.
So fall (or autumn, as Tracy inists on calling it...faw, faw!) cometh, and I can hardly wait. Cider mill trips, piles of fallen leaves, light jackets and handmade Halloween costumes, yay! Even Christmas is already lurking in the back of my mind, since I am determined to do all of my exterior lights IMMEDIATELY after Halloween this year. (Hey, remember last year? We were frozen solid before Thanksgiving and it stayed that way until March. LATE March.) But before I wish the summer away, I'm going to sneak in some more dinners from the grill and one or two gorgeous peach pies. Enjoy the heat, kids - it'll be gone before we know it.
And while the muggy weather may be getting me down, I still have a lot to look forward to. The diner booth, kitchen table and retro chairs I ordered should ship in the beginning of September. I'm sure you'll know the moment they arrive because my delighted squeals will be heard throughout the tri-state area. And today I found my Summertime 2010 Relief Package: a metal-framed easy-set 15' x 42" pool for the backyard marked down from $349.99 to a mere $87. You can call me a hillbilly for having a cheap above-ground pool in my yard all you want, but I will be one REFRESHED hillbilly, that's for sure. My only goal for next spring will be to perfect my margarita-making skills in preparation for a summer of floating and tanning. (Screw the wrinkles - fat looks better tan, period.)
In addition to the nifty, cheap-o pool, I have also acquired (drum roll, please) my second photography strobe light! No more harsh shadows on one side and blown-out areas on the other! Now I merely need $1700 for a tripod/ballhead, another $500 for the third and final light, the Canon 5D Mark II for $2500, and an 85mm f/1.2L lens for $1900. Oh, and a few hundred bucks for more backdrops and some whiteboard. Care to make a donation?
I'm still thinking about having a garage sale this fall, which is probably the better part of insanity. But I think purging some stuff will ultimately feel good, and if I can do it once the kids are back in school, then maybe it won't be so onerous. Of course, Eug has to take a long trip to China for most of September, so it'll have to be after that. I might need my friends to give me some pep-talks in the hopes of gaining some momentum on this one.
The kids are growing by leaps and bounds, and watching them at this stage has made me infinitely grateful that I had three kids...but also grateful that I didn't have four. Raising children is something so completely overwhelming that you can't properly imagine it until you're IN it. I used to think that having a newborn was tough, and now I just giggle at how incredibly wipe-your-chin-you're-drooling stupid that sounds. Having one - or even two - kids is easy like Sunday mornin', people. I can't even imagine what fresh hell four or more kids would be. I don't think Pfizer makes enough Xanax XR per annum to cover that.
So fall (or autumn, as Tracy inists on calling it...faw, faw!) cometh, and I can hardly wait. Cider mill trips, piles of fallen leaves, light jackets and handmade Halloween costumes, yay! Even Christmas is already lurking in the back of my mind, since I am determined to do all of my exterior lights IMMEDIATELY after Halloween this year. (Hey, remember last year? We were frozen solid before Thanksgiving and it stayed that way until March. LATE March.) But before I wish the summer away, I'm going to sneak in some more dinners from the grill and one or two gorgeous peach pies. Enjoy the heat, kids - it'll be gone before we know it.
Sunday, August 09, 2009
That Wacky Liberal Media!
My sister attended a tax protest rally in Troy last Thursday. There were literally THOUSANDS of people who came on very short notice to demonstrate. She told me that the one (count 'em - ONE) news outlet that mentioned it that evening lied and said that there were approximately 100-150 people in attendance! How's that for upholding truth in journalism? And do you think I can find one single working link to an online news story about it? Nope, not a one.
Oh, but I forgot. My sister and everyone else who attended the rally are really paid by the vast right-wing conspiracy to be public rabble-rousers. And the liberals who were there screaming in the faces of the silent protesters holding signs THROUGH A FUCKING BULLHORN are the *true* representation of the average American.
What I would give to be able to attend the march on Washington this September 12th! I hope everyone who could even possibly attend will seriously consider clogging the streets of D. C. until they pull their heads out of their asses and their hands out of our wallets.
Pardon me while I step outside to vomit uncontrollably, now.
Oh, but I forgot. My sister and everyone else who attended the rally are really paid by the vast right-wing conspiracy to be public rabble-rousers. And the liberals who were there screaming in the faces of the silent protesters holding signs THROUGH A FUCKING BULLHORN are the *true* representation of the average American.
What I would give to be able to attend the march on Washington this September 12th! I hope everyone who could even possibly attend will seriously consider clogging the streets of D. C. until they pull their heads out of their asses and their hands out of our wallets.
Pardon me while I step outside to vomit uncontrollably, now.
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
See, There's This Newfangled Thing Called "Responsibility"...
Holy crap, I'm going to hurt somebody one of these days. I swear it's just a matter of time.
Today, I took Claude into the clinic for some bloodwork because he's got early stage renal disease and we need to keep an eye on that kidney function. (For the record, he's doing fine. We've got to put him on some potassium gel and Pepcid in addition to his special diet, but for an old man, he's doing really well.)
While I was there, I see that we currently have not just one but TWO adult cats available for adoption. The first one I knew about, because she's an 'inappropriate elimination' cat who didn't do well in her original, chaotic home, so we're hoping to find some kind soul with a calm environment who'll give her a second chance. But the newest arrival is a cat who was adopted last summer as a kitten from our clinic - a gorgeous, friendly grey and white shorthaired boy who came back to us because...are you ready?...THE CAT WAS CHEWING THE HOUSEPLANTS.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph. People: Cats chew plants. It's what they do. They also love to paw at the dirt and occasionally mistake it for a litterbox, if the pot is big enough. What rock have you been living under that you went into adding a furred family member with a near total lack of understanding of and respect for your RESPONSIBILITY TO THAT CREATURE? I'm sure most of you can guess how freakin' hard it is to adopt out an adult cat versus a kitten. I am not speaking euphemistically when I say that I would like to track this woman down and wring the neck that holds her stupid head aloft. Any shithead who would get rid of her year-old cat before she got rid of her PLANTS is a total waste of oxygen in my book.
On top of that, I went into the mall yesterday, which is something I almost never do. I made the mistake of parking by a particular entrance that happens to house a pet store. The desire to set off a Molotov cocktail in that store was almost more than I could bear. Again, how intentionally obtuse are you people? Do you not know from whence these animals come? THERE IS NO 'GOOD' PET STORE, PERIOD. If your animal did not come from a rescue organization or from a thoroughly-researched (on your part), ethical home breeder for whom you had to get on a waiting list and where the kittens/puppies were raised in a family home with one or both of the litter's parents available for you to meet and greet, then you have no business having that animal. Sorry, but it's true. When you buy an animal from a pet store, you are encouraging the worst kind of animal abuse, no matter what B.S. they tell you. I say this even though I personally know otherwise lovely people who've acquired animals via pet stores. It doesn't make them bad people, but it does make them pretty damned dumb.
What *does* make you a bad pet owner is not taking excellent care of your animal. If you say you cannot afford a particular treatment/surgery, but you've been on vacation this year or buy everyday luxuries such as soda pop and dinners out...if you're too lazy to vacuum every day to help ease your pet's horrible allergies...if it's too much trouble for you to feed your pet the prescription diet they need for their medical condition...if you can't be bothered to ensure that your pet has access to clean, fresh water, high quality food, reasonable levels of exercise, loving obedience training and several-times-a-day physical affection...THEN YOU SUCK. You really, really do. Pets are very stoic about pain, and often do not show the extent of the misery they feel. Consider them a perpetual newborn, in terms of how dependent they are on your goodwill to care for them and then you begin to get some idea of what's required of you, dumbass.
Nobody's perfect, of course. Sometimes there are extenuating circumstances. I get that. But there is a threshold of minimum care that MUST be met, and if you can't meet it, then you have no business owning a pet. Take your spare time and find a wonderful home for your neglected pet, and then donate some of the few bucks that you spent on garbage-y grocery store pet food to an animal shelter, instead.
And stay the hell out of the pet stores, because someday, somebody just might go postal on one of them.
Today, I took Claude into the clinic for some bloodwork because he's got early stage renal disease and we need to keep an eye on that kidney function. (For the record, he's doing fine. We've got to put him on some potassium gel and Pepcid in addition to his special diet, but for an old man, he's doing really well.)
While I was there, I see that we currently have not just one but TWO adult cats available for adoption. The first one I knew about, because she's an 'inappropriate elimination' cat who didn't do well in her original, chaotic home, so we're hoping to find some kind soul with a calm environment who'll give her a second chance. But the newest arrival is a cat who was adopted last summer as a kitten from our clinic - a gorgeous, friendly grey and white shorthaired boy who came back to us because...are you ready?...THE CAT WAS CHEWING THE HOUSEPLANTS.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph. People: Cats chew plants. It's what they do. They also love to paw at the dirt and occasionally mistake it for a litterbox, if the pot is big enough. What rock have you been living under that you went into adding a furred family member with a near total lack of understanding of and respect for your RESPONSIBILITY TO THAT CREATURE? I'm sure most of you can guess how freakin' hard it is to adopt out an adult cat versus a kitten. I am not speaking euphemistically when I say that I would like to track this woman down and wring the neck that holds her stupid head aloft. Any shithead who would get rid of her year-old cat before she got rid of her PLANTS is a total waste of oxygen in my book.
On top of that, I went into the mall yesterday, which is something I almost never do. I made the mistake of parking by a particular entrance that happens to house a pet store. The desire to set off a Molotov cocktail in that store was almost more than I could bear. Again, how intentionally obtuse are you people? Do you not know from whence these animals come? THERE IS NO 'GOOD' PET STORE, PERIOD. If your animal did not come from a rescue organization or from a thoroughly-researched (on your part), ethical home breeder for whom you had to get on a waiting list and where the kittens/puppies were raised in a family home with one or both of the litter's parents available for you to meet and greet, then you have no business having that animal. Sorry, but it's true. When you buy an animal from a pet store, you are encouraging the worst kind of animal abuse, no matter what B.S. they tell you. I say this even though I personally know otherwise lovely people who've acquired animals via pet stores. It doesn't make them bad people, but it does make them pretty damned dumb.
What *does* make you a bad pet owner is not taking excellent care of your animal. If you say you cannot afford a particular treatment/surgery, but you've been on vacation this year or buy everyday luxuries such as soda pop and dinners out...if you're too lazy to vacuum every day to help ease your pet's horrible allergies...if it's too much trouble for you to feed your pet the prescription diet they need for their medical condition...if you can't be bothered to ensure that your pet has access to clean, fresh water, high quality food, reasonable levels of exercise, loving obedience training and several-times-a-day physical affection...THEN YOU SUCK. You really, really do. Pets are very stoic about pain, and often do not show the extent of the misery they feel. Consider them a perpetual newborn, in terms of how dependent they are on your goodwill to care for them and then you begin to get some idea of what's required of you, dumbass.
Nobody's perfect, of course. Sometimes there are extenuating circumstances. I get that. But there is a threshold of minimum care that MUST be met, and if you can't meet it, then you have no business owning a pet. Take your spare time and find a wonderful home for your neglected pet, and then donate some of the few bucks that you spent on garbage-y grocery store pet food to an animal shelter, instead.
And stay the hell out of the pet stores, because someday, somebody just might go postal on one of them.
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