Back Off Little Varmint!


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So now that I’ve told you I’m from Montana, I’m debating whether or not I should tell you D2 got bit by a squirrel today. I have this fear that you’ll all begin to suspect my family tree doesn’t branch or that I’m FB friends with the Unibomber.

But alright I’ll go ahead and tell you that it’s been one of those days. I left the house and left everything I needed on the counter. We were at the gym with no water bottles, D2 had her new remote control car but I left the controller behind, the car smelled like something crawled in the engine and died, and we were late to meet Science Guy.

When we got to the gym we found it full with a lunchtime pickup game so we headed across campus for snacks. Because well, doesn’t everybody substitute exercise with dark chocolate covered Rold Gold pretzels? D2 got peanuts and promptly wanted to find squirrels.

I’d like to preface the rest of the story with the fact that SG was the parent in charge at the time of the rodent assault.

I was still inside with the other two because D1 wanted to finish her ice cream before heading out into the -10 windchill. She’s difficult that way. SG said he’d take D2 with him and we’d meet him there.

Five minutes later they were back. D2 looked upset and yelled something that sounded a lot like, “MOM, the barrel shit my dingle!!”

What?? I don’t know if it was because I was crunching on my pretzels or what but that made absolutely no sense to me. Um, whose barrel did what and watch your mouth!

Then I saw the blood dripping on the floor and remembered she’d headed out with a sack full of peanuts. Oh….the squirrel bit your finger??

The little furry fucker drew blood!! Lots of it. Turns out she had a tiny peanut between the tips of her fingers and the squirrel missed and got her. Not sure what she was thinking or why there wasn’t any parental intervention. Did he really not see that coming??

She was then washed, rinsed, anti-bacterialized, and band-aided. I think she’s had all her rodent disease prevention shots but I’m keeping an eye on that finger anyway. It’s been cleaned several times since. I’m like Madge the Palmolive lady but with hydrogen peroxide.

In other news, SG reports she sent the offending rodent flying. She was so shocked and mad it bit her that she flung it full force off her finger and she’s strong! It was nowhere near her when it landed – on its feet – and ran away.*

I’m not sure if my little animal lover is done feeding the wildlife or not but you can bet she’ll be tossing food instead of feeding it out of her hand.  

* No rodents were harmed in the telling of this story but only because it got away before I could find it. And yes, I know we aren’t really supposed to be feeding the wildlife but it’s not like those morons in Yellowstone who try to feed and pet bears. You know, the dead morons? These are squirrels who are fed out of dorm windows. They’re tough little guys.


I’d Give My Left Breast for a Silent Night

The holidays are such a magical time. Great food, great family & friends and such huge quantities of togetherness. Good lord, there’s so much togetherness.

Everywhere I go there are members of my family and they’re talking to me. A lot.

It’s a wonderful thing when children want to actually spend time talking to their parents. Too many families ignore each other as they plug themselves into various forms of technology.

The thing is, we ARE plugged in. The younger girls got their DS’s and D1 got her Zune but funny thing happened – they want to tell me Mario’s every move and Max from Super Scribblenauts requires huge amounts of help rescuing bear cubs and stocking museums.

Where in the world did they get the idea that I have the answers? Aren’t they at the age where I’m supposed to be an idiot? Can we start that now?

And then there’s my dear sweet husband. Boy do I love that guy. Boy is he driving me crazy. It’s nothing really, just a little ongoing thing that’s making me crazy.

We live in Montana (have I mentioned that?) and for some reason, every time he mentions a town in our state, he follows it with “Montana”. Does he not know that we can assume that part? Today he was reading an article in the Montana AAA magazine and he kept saying things like, “they’re supposed to have really good burgers at that place in Livingston, MONTANA”.

Um yeah, let’s see. We’re in Montana and you’re reading a Montana AAA magazine.  I think we can safely assume that those 12 places you’re telling me about aren’t in fucking New Jersey!!

I don’t know why it’s bothering me this week. It makes no sense. Yes, it’s bothered me the last 20 years but I’ve kind of ignored it. Except for the 86 times I’ve mentioned it to him over the years.

I suspect my lack of patience stems from the fact that most things Christmas fall to the mom and I’m worn out but holy crap! I love these people I live with, I really do, but I think I’ll be ok with work and school re-entering our lives.

Mothering requires a balance between their space and mine. Marriages are more successful if you get a chance to miss each other a little bit.

In the meantime, I have a new CD and a set of headphones and I think I’ll send Science Guy down to the grocery store to buy me more wine. I wonder if I need to tell him what state it’s in.

I Think I Just Killed Santa

Oh boy – my medicated brain has just topped itself.

You see, my girls all had big Christmas gifts on their wish lists – as in Nintendo DS’s for the younger two and a Zune MP3 for my oldest. I’ve been telling them all along they were just too expensive.  I asked them if they’d rather have 1 bigger gift or several smaller ones. They all voted for the big gift but gave me small options as well in case I couldn’t find the big ones on sale or something.

I played up the expense and thought I was being so clever! I got the big ones but also needed smaller ones from Santa. So I found a couple more for each of them to go with their DS & game combos and Zune & music card combos.

Sounds good right? Except in my attempt to make D3 think that she wasn’t getting the bigger gift, I told her about the smaller ones I’d gotten D2 – you know, to throw her off track.

That’s right – I told her about the Santa gifts. I didn’t even realize it until I was wrapping and packing presents this morning. Have I also mentioned that D2 busted me at the school book fair buying them books?

Long story short (but still too long) – there are no secret gifts. You know how it goes – once D2 found out I told D3 about her gifts, she wanted to know D3’s and now they each  know what the other is getting. There’s nothing I can claim came from Santa’s workshop.

 Except the big ones!

Looks like I have to give credit for the pricier gifts to the big bearded guy and let them think their father and I are cheapo’s.

I wonder if they’ll notice that Santa got them the exact DS skins they looked at on the Decal Girl website?? Will they also wonder how their grandparents knew Santa was getting the DS’s and bought them each another game and case??

Oh boy! It’s a good thing my dad looks just like Santa. He may be the only one left for them! Although, D3 did tell me what she wants in her stocking so maybe that ship has already sailed anyway? I don’t know. I will never again schedule a scan right before Christmas!

Sometimes I amaze myself with just how far I can fit my head up my ass!

And now that I’ve burned that image in your mind’s eye – Happy Holidays and Happy New Year to all of you!!

Thanks for reading!  I’m going to go see if I can find the wine Santa brought me.

A Moments Break from the Chaos

I seem to be buried under all things Christmas and am not doing a very good job of finding my way to the keyboard.

But…I wanted to check in and thank everyone for their good thoughts and prayers. I got my scan results this morning and all is well. It even seems that one of the liver lesions has disappeared! I like that!! A lot. Mostly because that little sucker has been with me from the very beginning.

I hope everyone is surviving all the holiday craziness! I’ll be back sooner than later now that I can stop obsessing about my results 🙂

It’s a Wrap

Christmas gift wrapped in furoshiki style (Vie...

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The holidays are such a beautiful time of the year! It’s all candles and lights and ribbons and bows. It’s all festive and gorgeous!

Except the packages I wrap. I suck.

My mother is the Martha Stewart of gift wrapping. There’s velvet ribbon, real pine boughs (that don’t wilt??), ornaments, etc. It’s annoying.

My sister isn’t far behind her. Even my girls comment on their pretty presents because Lord knows they don’t see that at home.

It’s ok as long as we spend Christmas day at home, the presents get toned down if they’re being shipped, but when we travel? I’m screwed. When we’re at Mom and Dad’s house on Christmas morning I hide my gifts behind the tree.

How did I miss the gift wrapping gene? Is this a nature vs. nurture sort of deal? I didn’t choose to wrap atrocious looking gifts. I was born this way.

My only saving grace is that I did get the good shopping gene and have the ability to buy fabulous looking large gift tags that will cover my mistakes. Well there is one other good thing – my mother in law couldn’t wrap herself out of a paper bag so she thinks my presents look spectacular!

I also lack the “get the Christmas cards out on time” gene. I’ve had them for 2 weeks. I’ve sent two. Does anybody want to come over for a card signing gift wrapping party? I’ll buy the drinks!

Glad to Know You

I made a new friend in the waiting room at my CT on Tuesday. A cute little old bald guy with no teeth who talked and talked, and talked.

The first thing he told me was that he’d been diagnosed with cancer 2 days before. I told him I had it too, that it’s been almost 5 years. I was hoping to make him feel better but I don’t think it worked.

He told me he’d be 71 in three months. Then he told me he has already planned where he wants his ashes spread. I think he started to tell me they had told him he didn’t have long to live but he teared up and said “I won’t tell you that part”. That was the last thing he refused to say.

Other people were giving him looks. He was talking really loudly but I didn’t care. I understood why he was talking so much. Most of the time he had a kind of far away look in his eyes.

He needed someone to listen while he remembered his life.

He told me he grew up in rural Mississippi and that he’d played football on a really tough team right after they’d “integrated with the colored boys” and how much fun he had with them even though that wasn’t a popular opinion at that time.

When he was young he had an 11 toed cross-eyed cat who “was doomed from the beginning”. He had a tough old bird of a momma who didn’t put up with much from her 5 sons. He loved her very much.

He has a daughter who lives with her “lady friend”. They have given him 2 granddaughters who are the light of his life. He keeps pennies in his pocket just for them. The little one is blond and the older one is brunette.

He lost his son to drugs 2 years ago even though he’d tried over and over to warn him of the dangers. But before he died, his son had his own son so he hasn’t lost him completely.

I know that he left Mississippi when he was 18 and never went back except to visit his 109 yr old grandfather but somehow he didn’t lose his accent.

Mostly I know, and appreciate, that after hearing he has advanced prostate cancer he felt the need to review his life. I got the feeling he was talking to himself as much as to me. He was sitting by himself, he was a bit lost, he was a little lonely and more scared than he wanted me to know.

But I did know. I’ve been there.

He said it hasn’t been an easy life, then he changed the subject to his old labrador retriever, his boxing days and the time he’d been shot.

I was simply a sounding board as he looked back and reflected on the part of his story that has already been told. As he faces what is probably the final chapter of his life.

The techs were saying he was being difficult by not drinking his contrast. I know that in this new unknown scary world with cancer in it, he was trying to be in control, of anything, even if it was only the amount of oral contrast he drank.

He was feisty as hell but he knows he’s probably dying. It was my job, my honor, to listen to his stories. I lost my grandfather to prostate cancer when he was 68 – and I was 14. I miss his stories but Tuesday I got to listen to somebody else’s grandfather. I’m grateful that our paths crossed but I’m sad that his granddaughters will lose him too soon.

When my father is introduced to somebody he always says “glad to know you” instead of “nice to meet you”. I’ve always liked that. With him it’s always very genuine, it comes from the heart.

I don’t know if our paths will cross again but I’d just like to say, I’m very glad to know you Mr. Hardy.

Glad that’s over with!

Update – I survived the scan and am drinking gallons of water to flush the contrast out of my kidneys like a good girl!

I get results next week but I’m thinking it went ok.  The woman who avoided eye contact last spring when the tumor behind my stomach tripled, not only made eye contact but she let me look at the pics.

I had no idea what I was looking at but I’ll tell you one thing, my spleen was positively svelte! And my liver? No sign of cirrhosis anywhere! I know, right? I’m shocked too!!

Oh and I met this little old guy in the waiting room and it’s like the blogging Gods were smiling down on me. Or up, depending on your view of blogging Gods. He was a post waiting to happen!! YAY!

Until tomorrow – thanks for all the good wishes and prayers!!! You all rock!!