Ah, glorious springtime! The birds are chirping! The lizards are leaping! The pollen is... pollening. Yes. Like any other red-blooded American family, this time of year means that we are committed to cleaning and repairing various facets of our dwelling, because everyone knows that warmer weather + tax return = copious swearing from someone on a ladder. That's just how it works. I feel like every time we set out to do "a little project" it turns into our own special brand of "there's a hole in the bucket." (Why yes, I've noted this before, because it's been happening for years.) This has a...
Okay, "wondrous" might be overselling it a bit. There are varying degrees of wondrous. Like, there's a whole spectrum of interesting that spans all the way from "truly wondrous" on down to "WTFness." And I will leave it to you to place the following along that continuum as needed. [Sidebar: Let us pause for a moment to acknowledge that anything you hear from me today or for the next several weeks will be completely allergy-addled. I woke up this morning and had to chisel my face open. For a few minutes I thought maybe I had pinkeye, but no, it's just regular ol' allergies. I guess....
Know what Chickadee loves? Let's take a brief quiz: A) When I sing and dance along with Thrift Shop any time it comes on the radio. B) When I refer to visiting our local Goodwill as "poppin' tags." C) When I respond to any compliment on my attire---however slight---with a deep, booming, "I LOOK IN-CRED-UH-BULL!" D) All of the above. E) None of the above, and P.S., it's not nice to taunt the teenager. [Your quiz will not be graded. I am too busy cutting the plastic tag thingies off our latest haul. But here's Licorice's favorite video version as a reward for playing along.] The thing is, I've...
It seems like---particularly after the first full week of reintegrating ourselves as a family of four and everyone managing work and school and stuff---the weekend should be a time to relax and unwind and simply have fun. We should... sleep! Watch television! Meet up with friends and simply hang around with no set goals in mind! Well, I'm sure that's what SHOULD have happened. You know, if I wasn't such a giant meaniehead. But you know... I am Mom, hear me suck the fun out of everything. HOORAY! It actually started with poor, long-suffering Otto. I'm sure Otto would've LOVED to loll around...
I may have mentioned a few (dozen) times that I'm in a play this week...? Possibly? And one of the super things about putting on a production of The Vagina Monologues is that it really doesn't require any sort of set or costuming or anything. Basically the director picks a theme for what the cast will wear and then everyone goes home and pulls something out of their closet and whatever. Boom. Done. Last year we had to wear black, purple and gray, in whatever combinations we wanted. That was really easy, frankly, since I wear those three colors kind of a lot, anyway. This did not stop me,...
My Prednisone-fueled pace for 2013 continues unabated. I don't know that I'm actually accomplishing anything beyond what a normal, functioning adult should be doing---possibly the last year has left me with a bar that is not so much low as it is smashed-on-the-ground and therefore easy to clear---but it certainly FEELS like I am Getting Crap Done in various areas of my life. And yet, between cleaning things and getting work done and spending hours on the phone with the government (that's... a whole 'nother story for another time, and it shall be called Medicaid May Actually Be A Unicorn) and...
Licorice is having kind of a tough week. First there was the long holiday weekend, which meant people were home all the time---YAY!---and then strangers were here---BOO! Except FOOD! YAYYY!---and then people were home but the doorbell was ringing a lot. We'll never know what Licorice's life was like before she came to us, but I strongly believe at some earlier point in her development, every time the doorbell chimed, someone kicked this sweet little pup in the face. It's the only explanation I can think of that justifies the way she loses her ever-lovin' mind whenever someone comes to the...
First: A thank you, which feels inadequate, but is necessary, because y'all are nice and I love you, man! And I don't even want your Bud Light. You are all lovely and I appreciate you so much. Second: Please know that my intention in indulging in a bit of woe-is-me "Why do people DO THAT??" whining is just... venting. Wallowing. Many of you were quick to jump on the SCREW THE BASTARDS train in response---and I get that comes from protectiveness and caring and kindness---but in my logical non-hurty-emotional mind parts I know that in general people do not hurt us on purpose. In specific for...
So when I first shared here about Chickadee's toiletries being pilfered by her fellow patients, many of you responded with a righteous indignation that brought a little tear to my wounded mama-bear's eye. Several of you commented or emailed saying "Let us send stuff to them. We want to help." And I was touched by your generosity, so I went and mentioned it the person who I assumed was the correct contact at the hospital, and the response was... lukewarm. "It's not really about the stuff," was what kept being said. "This is more a matter of boundaries and appropriate behavior." And yes, it...
