I was in the shower when Sandis came running into the bathroom. "Mommy, we need the rabbit costumes," she claimed.
Now you may be wondering why we have rabbit costumes. Good question. Well, there is a "dress-a-bunny" costume at the county fair. Of course, my girls would participate. Of course. Post-Halloween seemed a good time to pick up costumes for the aforementioned competition, and so we did.
Anyway, Sandis wanted the costumes. I asked why, because, well, the contest is nine months off so it seemed just a bit early to dress the rabbits.
"Because," she answered, "Quetzl is getting married."
"Um, so your rabbit is getting married and he needs a dinosaur costume?" I inquired.
She replied, "Well, that's all we have."
So, rabbit weddings. It seems they proceed as follows:
1. Put all rabbits on trampoline in their nest boxes
2. Try and keep rabbits in nest boxes (note, Harn is against this part)
3. Dress boy rabbit who is getting married as a dinosaur
4. Dress girl rabbit who is getting married as a cheerleader
5. Dress baby rabbits in cheer poms, possibly bridesmaids? Nope, I've been told they are flower girls. Flower girls who would EAT the flowers.
6. Turn dressed rabbits in nest boxes towards each other and take pictures
7. Say no actual words of marriage binding
This occupied an entire afternoon, a good day for everyone except the rabbit being dressed as they are kind of against that while it is happening. After dressed, they seem quite oblivious, amazingly enough.
Vicodin is my newest friend. Why? Well, a tooth of mine that has both crown and root canal was acting up. Went to the dentist today and found out that the root canal was drilled too deeply or something like that. Now part of the filling is coming out of the bottom of where the roots used to be and my jaw is all inflamed and swollen. To fix it, (stop reading now if you are squeamish) they will peel back the gums and drill in through the side of my jaw, clean out all the problem, then refill the root area from the bottom. Well, that sure sounds like fun.
I have to go to a specialist for this new torture and money sink, so until I can get in there, I have Vicodin to keep me company. I blame all misspellings, bad grammar, and other errors in this post, and life in general, on Vicodin for the foreseeable future.
For my birthday, I received some nail polish. Three different colors picked out by the three members of my family. As Stella used two of them to paint my toenails, she exclaimed, "and these are not for chickens or kids, these nail polishes are only for mommy."
Good to know that I don't have to share with the chickens & children, because if I did, the polish bottles would be scattered about the back yard instead of put away on the lovely shelf I made.
And yes, the children DO paint the chicken's toenails. The chickens seem to not mind this procedure. They look on in confusion (which is a pretty normal chicken state,) but don't squawk or struggle. If a chicken doesn't like something, they do let you know, generally by making noise and running around in what appears to be an aimless fashion, but which to them, is their perfect defense.
In any case, here are some pictures of chicken nail painting. Sorry, no pictures from my own.
Chicken: Yes, I'm upside-down and confused. This is normal for me.
Add the polish - no red or they'll peck it. This chicken gets a lovely greenish-yellow
See how happy they are?
Post pedicure loveliness.
If you have chickens that are in need of pedicures, bring them over. The girls would be more than happy to make them beautiful!
Allow me to give you a small glimpse into the chaotic ramblings that inhabit Stella's brain..
Stella sees a football player on the sidelines using an oxygen mask. She lights up, "mommy, if I play football when I grow up, can I have an oxygen mask?"
So many thoughts go through my head. Things like why she would want to receive oxygen. Or play football. I answer that if she played in the NFL as an adult, she may get to use an oxygen mask, but this is unlikely as she has never wanted to play football, ever. I asked if she wanted to play now. No, she doesn't.
"Ok, what other ways can you get to have an oxygen mask," she asks, clearly, not giving up easily.
Brian says that if you plane crashes, you get an oxygen mask.
"No, that's for something bad that happens. I don't want bad things to happen. How else can you get one," she posits.
"Well," I say, "you sister had one as a baby when she was really sick."
"How come she got to have an oxygen mask when she was a baby and I didn't," Stella sneers.
The kids have had 11 days of quasi-school this year. I've had 2 days of lunch duty, 2 days of helping in class, 1 day of sick kid, 1 day of bringing in the lizard for show-and-tell, 1 day of bringing cupcakes for a birthday and 2 forgotten lunches. As you can see, that leaves me with two, TWO, days that I have not had to go back to their school during the day.
This week I told them that since it was my birthday, and since I didn't have lunch duty, I did NOT want to worry about having to schlep forgotten lunches.
What did they say when we get out of the car? "We forgot our lunch."
Of course you did.
It was out of the fridge and. in. their. hand. before we left. But, they set it down to pick up something else (oooh, shiny!) and left it at home. So on the one day I don't have to go back to school, the one day I should have to myself, I drive their lunch to school.
What do you say when you turn 44? I'm really not sure. I've not had a great year, that goes without saying. I really don't want to rehash that mess today, now do I? No, no, I most certainly do not.
Did I do 44 interesting things this year? Or learn 44 new bits of knowledge? Or???
I guess I'll say that I survived 8.295x44 days. Yes, I did. I made it through. That is the best thing that happened this year. But there were some other good things, I suppose. I'll start with 10 good things that happened this year:
We had 25 baby rabbits survive and thrive
The 5 breeding rabbits are doing well too
We got a new dog
Sandis got her blue-tongued skink
We have 6 happy chickens in the coop
My car is still running
And so is Brian's
Sandis did very well in the county fair with both rabbits and vet science
Stella's dances both did well and went to state fair
Stella has a whole new group of friends that are HER friends, from dance
And follow with a few good things about today:
Two words, Gingerbread Latte
Many episodes of Torchwood
Some knitting
Alone time
Time with Brian
It's not hot
I don't have to work
Lovely birthday messages on FB
Some writing done
Some errands done
Now I need to build this new year up bit by bit, until, one year from today, I have 45 reasons that the past year was amazing
She woke up yesterday with a British accent that hasn't left. I am her "fake mummy," because I can't be her actual mother, being that I'm not British. Her sister is "small child," or occasionally, "fake sissy." She keeps asking for cheese crisps and wishing that her football season wasn't over. Much more babbling when you are British, I've found.
The story is that she is really The Doctor's ginger child. He implanted fake memories into our family so that we think she's our child, but really The Doctor gave her to us for safe keeping. Some day, he will return for her.
Having seen the show, I can't argue with the logic.
Sandis' "Fake Da" has challenged her to keep up the British accent for an entire week. She was British today at the dentist, but didn't speak during the library program. Not sure if that counts or not. She's planning on doing it tomorrow at quasi-school. Should be quite the shock for her teachers.
BTW, her accent is quite good, to an unrefined American ear. All from watching Dr Who and Harry Potter.
I guess she was inexplicably "from Boston" a bit as toddler.
Sometimes you have one of those days. Days when your younger child is ranting about how she doesn't know how to highlight things on her computer or how writing an outline of something she's read is a skill that will never be useful in her life . Ever. And then it takes your elder child half an hour to put on her shoes so she can go outside to feed her rabbits, which will take another half hour, and you have TEN minutes until you have to leave. And then the two children meet in the hallway, like ships passing in the night, except those ships are loaded with cannons and snipers and an epic battle ensues over nothing.
Finally you shove them both in to the car. You'll only be fifteen minutes late for whatever activity. Now the children are in close proximity to each other. Eyes narrow, lips curl. Epithets begin to spew and then next thing you know, a jar is thrown at a sister's head, a pinch is administered that MUST have broken the skin (it didn't.)
You've modeled and taught patience, caring, understanding, non-violence. You wonder where you went wrong with these children.
Then, someone tells you that your children are leaders. Multiple someones, actually. They take charge of situations in a calm and kind way. They help out children who are struggling to understand. No one is left out or left behind on their watch. They have empathy. They don't disrupt situations, but lead them in the right direction. They are model citizens.
And you realize, you're doing alright after all. They will become helpful citizens of our world. You have not failed as a parent, you have succeeded, they are giving, caring human beings.
So, I might have just uttered the sentence, "It is 8:30pm, I haven't had any dinner, I'm hungry and trying to clean up the kitchen enough to make something to eat, please, go wash your dead rabbits in the bathroom."
Yeah, maybe having the baby rabbits due on Stella's birthday wasn't such a good idea seeing as how Mayahuel is an abysmal mother. Of course, we didn't know that given that it's her first litter. Still, RIP Mr BoJangles and two siblings. Let's hope the remaining ones make it.
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In better news, STELLA IS TEN!!! Double digits, a whole decade, the big 1-0. She is thrilled. And she's glad she was well enough to go to quasi-school, because, as she said, "it would be horrible to have to miss school on your birthday!" Yes, that is what all the cool kids say. At least, all the cool kids who go to school one day a week, and get to take super fun classes like Animalia and Geography Through Art.
She had cake twice today. Twice. And she got a Rainbow Loom, which she's desperately wanted for months now. She thought she wasn't getting one as none of the packages looked big enough. Ha! I was so tricky having Sandis wrap it in the box it came in :) She got several other gifts from us and her grandparents - cds, a new purse, more rainbow loom bands, B&N gift card, Piggly Wiggly sweatshirt, money. She's a pretty stylin' ten yr old.
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And now, to write directly to Stella, my baby, my last baby.
Stella, I can't believe you are ten. How on earth did I end up with a BABY who is TEN? The years have flown by. It seems like yesterday that you were born, and yet, I barely remember that time. I do remember some, and when I tell you stories, you always laugh and smile. You love the stories from when you were a little girl.
I know that you don't always have it easy. Life isn't fair. You are the youngest. You have impulse control issues, ADHD, anxiety - these make life harder for you to navigate at times. Still, through it all, you are loving and sweet. You have moments when we want to strangle you, but then you turn around and offer your last cookie to someone who doesn't have one. You offer to help without being asked. You give hugs when you see someone down. Your kindness knows no bounds.
Those things that people may see as problems now, will be called "spunk" and "fire" when you are older. I don't worry about you, my girl, you will have your way with this world.
I love you from the bottom of my heart, Stella. I truly do.
Yes, it's true. I'm fat. Overweight. Unhealthy BMI. You name it, I'm it.
And you know what else? That is not likely to change.
Why?
I really don't know. Seriously. My body has decided that I will be this way no matter what I do.
"Surely, you jest," you say, "just eat less, exercise more." Or maybe, "eat the right things. Try paleo." Or, "try doing..." Ok, STFU, you. I've tried it.
Don't think I've tried it? Check this list. It's what I've tried over the past several years.
Writing down everything I eat
Measure/weigh everything I eat
Weight Watchers
HCG diet (where you take a homeopathic and eat like 5 things)
Tracking all food/exercise
Couch to 5K
Seeing a nutritionist
Eating more
Eating less
Eating more protein
Eating a Mediterranean diet (similar to paleo)
Taking various supplements
Having various blood work done
And probably some more things I've forgotten. Numbers 8-13 were under the advice and guidance of a nutritionist and my doctor this year (as was the HCG thing, but that was yrs ago.) I started seeing them about my weight on Valentine's day 2013 at 248lbs. I had kept a diary of what I'd eaten. First pass we tried adding more protein and having more and smaller meals. Over time, when my weight didn't change, we tried adding more calories, since I was kind of low. Then we added some supplements and cut out more carbs. Then we went to almost no carbs, some blood work and more supplements. All the while tracking all of my food religiously on my iPod. After 5 months, I'd lost 4 pounds.
Four pounds.
When my nephew passed away in June, I was unable to cope with this anymore. I couldn't try more things to help me not lose weight. I needed to heal, and food was one of my crutches. I used that crutch. I ate whatever was handy because feeding myself was too much of a chore. I couldn't be bothered to think about supplements or carbs, and dammit, I needed some chocolate.
More time passed and it was time for my yearly doctor's visit. I weighed in last week. Weighed in after 3.5 months of unmonitored eating.
245lbs
I give up.
So, the next person I hear talk about fat people like they are lazy or selfish or shouldn't enjoy food or any other derogatory statement, well, that person might just get bitch-slapped into next week. Some of us have tried and truly cannot help what our weight has become. I've tried to work my ass off, but my ass is staying put whether I like it or not. I will have to learn to live in and clothe this body that I have because, obviously, it's not going anywhere anytime soon.
The one with a horribly beat up ball that maybe should be retired but they always bring it? And the decrepit ball is never inflated properly either. To the point where the coach asks this child if she's gotten her ball inflated yet and then does it for her, probably wondering how her parents could be so neglectful and unorganized as to have not even noticed the under-inflated, over-used piece of equipment their child drags around town.
And that kid probably wears stained and torn clothing to practice. I'm sure because the parents don't take the time to care for their child properly. They probably never launder clothing at their house or purchase new clothing when the old is outgrown. That poor child probably makes do with 3 or 4 outfits, judging by what she wears to practice. Sad, really.
And said child probably often doesn't have a water bottle or brings it only half full. No parent to watch over the child and make sure they are properly hydrated. No one to care what happens to her.
Of course, this would NOT be my child. Oh no. Because she has three different soccer balls, a pump to inflate it, her very own new water bottle, numerous articles of clothing.
Even on a day when things go wrong or I have to work or my kid is insane, I can still take comfort in the fact that it is autumn. On Monday, I had all of those things but it's fall and so I was enthralled with everything I saw. Like:
Waves of yellow, oval leaves stirred up by cars were spinning and dancing across the roadway
Blazing Autumn Ash trees assaulting your eyes with their showy red and purple foliage.
Being in the sunshine and soaking it up rather than huddling in the shade wishing the sun would leave us
Imprints of leaves in the library parking lot. It had rained recently and the leaves had been run over, sticking to the blacktop. Now the leaves were gone but the outlines remained.
The sound of leaves falling, like rain.
Walking through drifts of leaves, kicking them as if I was a child again.
Our pile of pumpkins, gourds, squash, and yes, even a turnip. Such a lovely sight to come home to. Makes me smile every time :)
Made with Tagxedo and a link to Wikipedia's page on The Force. No I'm not required to credit them, it's so cool, I want to :) http://www.tagxedo.com
The Force is strong in the younger child today. Unfortunately the Force that I mean is definitely leaning strongly towards the Dark Side.
Why?
Well, you see, I am having her do some school work.
Oh yes, it has come the time in the year when it has become cool enough to be able to occupy space in the air-conditioning-free world of ours without leaving a sweat puddle around your feet. I feel that your brain oozes out your pores along with the sweat and therefore give my children a lovely "summer break" from schoolwork. Not to be confused with the summer breaks of the school kids, this one is not defined by calendars and plans. No, it's defined by their mother's heat tolerance.
In any case, it is no longer a million degrees out and they have to do schoolwork The older one generally likes it. The younger one loathes anything making her do something she had not previously decided she wanted to do. Today, that was writing. It was the beginning of the writing curriculum so she had to read a book, a picture book, and then answer questions about reading.
Oh. My. Bob. THE HORROR!
Can you believe she had to write down some of her favorite books? And what kind of books she likes? Not only that, but things like where she likes to read and what she might do if she didn't understand what she was reading.
Yes, it was awful. They did things like this in Guantanamo, I'm pretty sure.
Here are some of the whining, crying, throwing things, foot stomping comments to this ONE PAGE writing assignment (which she was welcome to type if she didn't want to physically write):
I don't know what kind of books I like
I like all kinds of books
I don't like to read
I don't ever learn things
You never help me
Why don't you ever help me?
I hate writing
I don't know what this means
I like writing but I don't like this writing
I don't know where I like to read
I don't care about Harry Potter (<--sacrilege, right there)
After way, way, too much of this (and yes, I did help,) I said I was going to the shower and would be unavailable for helping or being screamed at for the next 20 minutes. I believe the words "suck it up buttercup" may have left my mouth.
Amazingly, she was done with the entire assignment and had read part of her Ancient Civ before I could even get my hair washed.
Why, WHY, does this child have to carry on for so long before she finally does something? She's this way about her schoolwork, her chores, her computer not performing how she'd like. There are no answers or assistance that will make things right. She has to make everyone's life a living hell for an hour or so, and then she finishes her work in record time, usually even correctly.
This is stressing me the fuck out! And I have enough stress. Thankfully, yesterday was a GOOD day so it's not as bad as it could be. Right?
Today during World Travelers class at quasi-school, Sandis had to work with a partner to match up 47 British words with their American equivalent. She told me that they were able to correctly match up 40 of 47. Why? From watching Doctor Who on Netflix. Because of that show, she not only knows about kindness to all creatures, pacifism, time travel, regeneration, and now, British vocabulary. From now on, all Doctor Who television watching is counting as school hours.
Deanna, if you are reading, I asked Sandis how World Travelers is going without Wild Child, seeing as how the two of them had that class together for several years. Her only comment was, "weelllll, it's a lot quieter." I must say I actually laughed out loud at that. I hope you do as well :)
(and for those reading who don't know FTW = For The Win. You're welcome.)
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Did you know that clicking is scientifically proven* to be good for your health and well-being? True**! And you can vote for me and my blog by clicking! Coincidence***? Improve your health today by clicking here. Or here. And once again here. Just for good measure, click here. Your body will thank you later****!
Fine print * - not even scientifically studied. If it has been, I have not read about it. ** - not true *** - totally NOT a coincidence **** - your body won't care at all. Thanks will not be forthcoming.
Finally it is September and FINALLY, ten days in, we are getting some relief from the heat. Still, it is not making me content. While I do love the cool, rainy days, the edge of autumn appearing in the tree's leaves and the air's scent. It has not calmed my inner soul.
If anything I am more discontent than ever. I pretty much hate everything and want to change it.
First of all, my phone. My cell phone is a huge pain in the ass. It decides when it will ring, usually to tell me about a voice mail left two days ago as opposed the to call coming in right. now. Its coverage sucks. I have no bars in parts of our town, neighboring towns, when the wind is blowing, when it's not. I did a bit of research and bought a new phone on a new plan that hopefully has better coverage, definitely has cheaper rates. It is still no-contract. And the phone was expensive, for me anyway, but the savings in the plan will pay for the phone in little over six months. Hopefully I won't hate this fucking phone too.
Next, I'm fed up with my radio station. It used to play "alternative" music from 90's-today. Now it's gone and started playing dubstep dance crap. (Sorry if that is what you like.) And, even worse, it repeats. If I hear that damn Jack Johnson whistling song for the third time in ONE DAY, then you, radio station, are done. I am on a search for a new radio station but haven't found one yet. You would think I could just use my iPod for music but no. I perpetually have trouble with my computer refusing to recognize my iPod and then I have to take it back to factory settings. Re-setting up all of my programs and apps, putting in all the passwords again, figuring out how I had it all arranged - it makes me angry just thinking about it, therefore I have the same music on my iPod that I've had on there for many months. And yes, I'm tired of it.
Now, that's not ALL I'm tired of. I'm also tired of our tv. Yes, it's old (like 1999?) but I expect them to live. for. ever. I should never have to buy a new one unless I want to upgrade features, which I don't. The tv does not care and has started to randomly turn itself off. Sure, you can turn it back on, and that may work for awhile, days even, but eventually it will turn off again. And it may not work either. It may keep shutting itself off several times in a row, for your viewing pleasure. So I am sick and tired of the tv and just want a new one. One I can hang on the wall. Then I could move out the big entertainment center, paint the wall, hang the tv, and be done. But, well, that does cost money, doesn't it. Crap.
Speaking of money, my car is going to be rolling on into 200,000 miles soon. Where is my sugar daddy to buy me a new one?
I know that all of this discontent is just a reflection of my inner discontent. I'm aggravated with things around me because things are wrong within. My inner turmoil from the past summer has not resolved. My outer life is crazy with business and children, children who are having behavior issues while dealing with their own feelings surrounding losing their cousin. What do I do? I get tense and grouchy and unhappy with little things that maybe I can fix. But fixing them won't solve anything. I know that.
Still, I have to try.
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Did you know that clicking is scientifically proven* to be good for your health and well-being? True**! And you can vote for me and my blog by clicking! Coincidence***? Improve your health today by clicking here. Or here. And once again here. Just for good measure, click here. Your body will thank you later****!
Fine print * - not even scientifically studied. If it has been, I have not read about it. ** - not true *** - totally NOT a coincidence **** - your body won't care at all. Thanks will not be forthcoming.
Yesterday the children had my iPod and apparently had a LOT of fun with it. Here are the searches I found:
Nothing Joe search on the web
dog
for
ready data
Friday
cute animals
a creeper from mine craft
Wow I just travel back in time to dinosaur time are call
...
We should go outside
sing poops
pray pray that blockbuster Lopane
Delete Salems
are there any games that I could schedule a meeting
come farted
pray pray the Black australopithecine net
I asked Sandis about some of the bizarre things I found.
She claims they were playing with Siri. Ah, Siri, that little voice in the iPod that I have completely ignored. Apparently it is also the little voice in the iPod which both children think is the best. toy. ever. While playing with the amazing Siri, "she" misinterpreted their words. According to Sandis, when this happened, Siri would start internet searches. I am certainly glad that my children say things that can be misinterpreted as "pray pray that blockbuster Lopane."
Another thing Siri can do? Speak chicken. It's true! Sandis & Stella BOTH told me this story, "I was holding Butterscotch and when she said, 'brrooock,' Siri thought she said the 'f-word!'"
I think that is an apt description of what the chicken was probably saying while being toted around the yard by two cackling children shoving a sweetly-speaking rectangle in her face. I'm sure it's what I would have been thinking in her situation. Chickens, not surprisingly, have no filter from brain to beak and just blurt out whatever they are thinking. Luckily, it's not often interpreted.
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Did you know that clicking is scientifically proven* to be good for your health and well-being? True**! And you can vote for me and my blog by clicking! Coincidence***? Improve your health today by clicking here. Or here. And once again here. Just for good measure, click here. Your body will thank you later****!
Fine print * - not even scientifically studied. If it has been, I have not read about it. ** - not true *** - totally NOT a coincidence **** - your body won't care at all. Thanks will not be forthcoming.
After having a busy and eventful summer, not always in a good way, I declared last week "Walter Girls Family Fun Week." Everyday we would do something fun that we'd been wanting to do but hadn't gotten around to doing or hadn't done as much as we would have liked.
Why last week? Well, it was the first time we weren't scheduled to the MAX this summer. There was no violin. No play practice. No puppetry practice. No soccer, camp, 4H. Yes, there was still dance practice and therapy, but that was all we had to worry about.
Onward to FUN!
Monday was pottery painting. Stella painted a triple pig bank, Sandis, a turkey complete with top hat, and myself, a butter dish
Really bad picture of mediocre pottery
Tuesday was bowling. You know that "Kids Bowl Free" program? Yeah, this is probably the first time in 3 years or so we've used a coupon. Of course you have to pay for shoe rentals. And if you have my children, you also have to buy socks because they forgot to wear and/or bring any.
Wednesday we took the dogs to the river to play. This didn't last too long as it was cool that day so the girls soon got too cold for the river.
The dogs sporking. Yes, spork is not only what Tonks *is* but also what she *does*
The children luring the dogs into the water with potato chips
Thursday we went to the Denver Museum of Nature & Science. There we saw Sharks 3D on IMAX followed by time in Expedition Health (for the millionth time) and the dioramas. On the way home, we stopped and picked up our newest bunny, Radegast.
Surly pre-teenager reluctantly posing for a photograph
Guess what Stella found? Yep, poop.
Friday was movie day. We saw Turbo at the $2 theater. If you haven't seen it, save your money. The only redeeming bit was that there was a Samuel L. Jackson snail. Otherwise, just mix up Cars with any other feel-good, happy-ending Disney-esque movie, and you've got the gist of it.
It was quite relaxing to not have to think too much about where we had to be and what we should be doing for a week. Of course, it wasn't completely relaxing because I still have manic girl and surly pre-teen. Still, I think we should do this at least once a year from here on out!
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Did you know that clicking is scientifically proven* to be good for your health and well-being? True**! And you can vote for me and my blog by clicking! Coincidence***? Improve your health today by clicking here. Or here. And once again here. Just for good measure, click here. Your body will thank you later****!
Fine print * - not even scientifically studied. If it has been, I have not read about it. ** - not true *** - totally NOT a coincidence **** - your body won't care at all. Thanks will not be forthcoming.
Didn't have BIG plans for the weekend, but did think it would be kind of fun. Start with Saturday morning trip to a small livestock swap where they were demoing rabbit cage building. Then Sunday either a movie or New West Fest. Not too bad, kind of laid back, right?
No, not so much.
Saturday morning we went to take care of the animals we've been watching for a week or so. Kitty is not doing well. Ok, so he hasn't been doing well for quite some time (months) but today, he is bad. Instead of feeding everyone and then hopping in the car and driving to the swap, we hop in the car and take kitty to the vet.
I am so NOT ok with this. I am freaking out. A million thoughts running through my head. Is this my fault? Are they going to think it's my fault? Why aren't they here when their kitty is dying? Why am I having make end of life decisions for someone else's cat? Or if I don't, then I'm deciding to spend megabucks of someone else's money on their dying cat. WTF do I do!?!
So, took kitty to the vet. Things are as bad as I thought. Poor old-man kitty :( The vet and I were finally able to get a hold of the owners and they were able to take over the kitty decisions.
An hour late to leave, we start driving to the swap. Swap is 2 hours, we'll get to be there for one hour. Hopefully, we'll arrive in time for the demo and to talk with other crazy people who love chickens and bunnies (and other assorted animals.) All was going well until about 5 miles from our destination when traffic stopped. Yes, we did occasionally move, but those last 5 miles took us about 30 minutes, meaning we'd only have 30 minutes at the swap/ Ok, great. I'm not stressing out. I'm not pissed. Ok, yes, I'm BOTH of those things.
Then we get off at the exit where the swap is supposed to be and we can't find it. Yes, we have GPS, I looked at a map, I know the address...it's not there. Stop in at the visitor's center. Two lovely old ladies look at me as if I have 3 heads when I ask where the street is. They've never even heard of the street the swap is supposedly on. They get out ye olde map booke from 1602 and look it up. They bicker over how to look it up and what this column means, and oh is it "street" or "drive"? Time is tick, tick, ticking away.
Finally they find it and off we drive. The street they told us to go to is closed.
Fuck it, we're going home. With ice-cream on the way home. Yes, that's what we're doing. Saying "fuck it" and eating ice-cream. Yeah, take that, shitty morning!
Sunday did not improve things. There was a certain child who shall remain nameless (Stella) who decided to be a manic girl despite meds. She's been like this ALL WEEK but when you get to the end of the weekend, well, at some point you've just had enough. There was supposed to be a movie afternoon with kids seeing Epic and grownups seeing Star Trek, but instead it was no one seeing anything because the damn child won't do anything except what she wants and thinks is funny at that moment. It could be saying, "poopy poop poop" over and over in iambic pentameter. It could be beating her sister in rhythm with the songs on the radio. It could be saying "why" to every. last. thing. on. earth. in such a way as to imply her total disgust with you and the world at large. And, for a final straw, it could be giggling when her dad tries to explain to her how if she can't stop, we can't go to the movies.
Yep, no movies.
So, I'd like a do-over. Not just for the weekend. Nope, for the whole fucking year. It's not been a good one by any means. It started with putting our dog down and after a string of pet deaths and other disappointments, got to the final horror of my nephew. Not to end there, the year had to keep beating me down. This past weekend is like a small, evil snapshot of how my year has gone.
And there are still over 4 months left.
And my word for the year was supposed to be "joy."
Our week at the Larimer County Fair, complete with lyrics to my bastardized version of the most excellent song "One Week" by the Barenaked Ladies. Enjoy.
It's been one week since our Fair debut
Hustled off to be interviewed
Five days since animals came to stay
Get all the rabbits and chicks put away
Four days since the rabbit show
Thought it would be a partial day, what do I know?
Today we're still going strong, can I ever be alone?
Hey, it'll still be one day till I say I'm done
Hold it now and watch the dress-a-bunny
And it make you stop, think
You'll think you're looking at M&Ms
I summon kids to the barns, to clean the cages,
Feed the rabbits
Hot like Colorado, storms just for fun
Big flood and hail
'Cause I want to be locked inside
Bits n Pieces got the mad cows
Ok they're not mad, but I'm sure they are bovine
Gonna make a break and take a shower,
'Cause I'm a stinkin' achin' mess
Gotta see the rodeo, 'cause then you'll know
Crazy people ride on bulls
For awhile
Then they're flying off through the air.
How can I help if I think it's fun even when its mad
Tryin' hard to smile though I feel dead
I'm the kind of gal who keeps going still
Can't understand what I mean? Well, you soon will
I have the tendancy to wear myself to a nub
I have a history of taking a nap, but I can't
It's been one week since our Fair debut
Hustled off to be interviewed
Five days since animals came to stay
Get all the rabbits and chicks put away
Four days since the rabbit show
Thought it would be a partial day, what do I know?
Today we're still going strong, can I ever be alone?
Hey, it'll still be one day till I say I'm done
Butterscotch the brand new chicken
Jojo gone, I'm not heartbroken
Watchin' awards shows, what a scene
We're dans petit arene
I hope Stella gets something in this one
Like Sandis did for rabbits,
And for Vet Science,
And for record book,
I think little sister's gonna blow
Gotta remind her
She did her Champion in June
They're dancing Pueblo soon
Gotta get across the fair
Gotta see the kids exhibits and try to stare,
But not so long I fall asleep
Gotta get to see the Open class
Cause that's last,
Before I tip my glass.
How can I help if I think it's fun even when its mad
Tryin' hard to smile though I feel dead
I'm the kind of gal who keeps going still
Can't understand what I mean? Well, you soon will
I have the tendency to wear myself to a nub
I have a history of taking a nap, but I can't
It's been one week since our Fair debut
Hustled off to be interviewed
Five days since animals came to stay
Get all the rabbits and chicks put away
Four days since the rabbit show
Thought it would be a partial day, what do I know?
Today we're still going strong, can I ever be alone?
Hey, it'll still be one day till I say I'm done
It'll still be one day till I say I'm done
Get those poster boards and go home...
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Did you know that clicking is scientifically proven* to be good for your health and well-being? True**! And you can vote for me and my blog by clicking! Coincidence***? Improve your health today by clicking here. Or here. And once again here. Just for good measure, click here. Your body will thank you later****!
Fine print * - not even scientifically studied. If it has been, I have not read about it. ** - not true *** - totally NOT a coincidence **** - your body won't care at all. Thanks will not be forthcoming.
I hate summer. And hot flashes. Summer and hot flashes at the same time? Brutal. Which explains this cranky post. To me at least. And that is all that matters.
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There are so many cutesy ways to have your baby's gender revealed to you these days. They all start with, "have the ultrasound tech put the gender in an envelope," after which you can do many different things. For instance:
Give said envelope to a baker and instruct them to bake a cake in either pink or blue. Frost in white. When the cake is cut, the gender is revealed!
Choose two outfits at a store. Give them both to the cashier and have them secretly put only the correct gender one in the bag after reading the envelope's contents.
Get a box full of balloons in either pink or blue, depending on the gender in the envelope. Release balloons with much fanfare and to the detriment of wildlife everywhere.
There's even a moronic lovely paint fight idea where the paint proprietor gives you the corresponding color paint, which you then throw at each other for photos to send out announcing your baby's gender.
You know what? You want to be surprised? Hello, WAIT UNTIL THE BABY IS BORN.
Why make a fake surprise? If you want to find out, ok, do it, but just find out! You can't have a surprise on your own terms! It is no longer a surprise if you dictate the terms. That's like saying, "Oh well, I decided to do Christmas on December 9th this year. Why? Well, we had all these surprises, but we didn't want to wait another 16 days. No, we needed to know what was in the gifts NOW. Why? Well, because we could."
And don't give me the old, "I have to find out the gender so I can plan," crap. A newborn needs basically nothing. Diapers, boobs - those are essential. Clothes, sure, but here's a newsflash, the baby doesn't care what it wears. Really, color is immaterial to them. They have no preconceived notions about pink being for girls, (which really is a recent thing anyway, historically speaking. Pink used to be for boys.) And the nursery? Pfft! My babies never used anything in a nursery, but even if they do, they don't care about the decor or colors there either. Again, if you want to find out, find out, but don't make excuses.
And should I get started on gender stereotypes? No, I probably shouldn't because it irritates me way too much. It makes me want to go back to school for women's studies and rant at people. I'll just say that stereotypes hurt everyone and leave it at that.
For now.
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Did you know that clicking is scientifically proven* to be good for your health and well-being? True**! And you can vote for me and my blog by clicking! Coincidence***? Improve your health today by clicking here. Or here. And once again here. Just for good measure, click here. Your body will thank you later****!
Fine print * - not even scientifically studied. If it has been, I have not read about it. ** - not true *** - totally NOT a coincidence **** - your body won't care at all. Thanks will not be forthcoming.
I met with the lovely Rev. Gretchen Haley today. One of the things she suggested was that to get through the next week or two or three was to declare a vacation. A vacation from certain responsibilities that I'm not up to handling right now. Everyone in the family can contribute to the list. And it will have a set time limit, after which we have a ceremony or ritual of some sort to honor Nathan and our time of grieving.
I want to embrace this idea but I need to think of things to put on that list. I can't put work on there, as I need the income. So what, dear readers and friends, can I put on this list?
Gretchen also suggested I reach out to friends to help me over the next few weeks. Some help with keeping up the house, which seems like an insurmountable task at the moment. Maybe some meals. Someone to take the girls for a playdate so I can have some alone time, time to process.
It is so hard to ask, and yet she assured me it's a gift to be asked. People want to know what they can do to help. I know that I've been there myself, wanting to help but not knowing how. So know that I may reach out to some of you soon. Asking for assistance.
Know that this is not easy for me to do. It goes against all I was taught. It shows that I am not strong enough, not determined enough, not good enough. I know these things aren't true, but some part of me, way down deep, still believes that. And believes the silent judging, that I know in reality doesn't happen, but I can sure conjure it up in my mind.
For tonight, I'm going to bed to fight my demons. But tomorrow, I may ask you for some help....
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Did you know that clicking is scientifically proven* to be good for your health and well-being? True**! And you can vote for me and my blog by clicking! Coincidence***? Improve your health today by clicking here. Or here. And once again here. Just for good measure, click here. Your body will thank you later****!
Fine print * - not even scientifically studied. If it has been, I have not read about it. ** - not true *** - totally NOT a coincidence **** - your body won't care at all. Thanks will not be forthcoming.
I need to start writing again. It is really difficult because I don't know if I want to. Don't know if I should. My nephew has left this earth and, really, things need to stop, and stay stopped, forever. Or at least until I am ready for them to start again.
Which I'm not.
I still feel like I'm faking my way through the days. Like I'm moving through some sort of viscus goo. Like I need to sleep for 12 hours. Or 12 days. Until I can stop feeling run down.
I also don't want to deal with the things. Not the regular things like taking the kids to their lessons or working, not the other things like Buckhorn registrar responsibilities or getting ready for the fair. Not having to deal with kids who are messy. And grieving too. And who are acting out because of that grieving. Kids who are on my last nerve when my nerves are shot. Nope, don't want to deal with that.
Another thing I didn't want to deal with? Having to butcher 9 rabbits on no notice.
Oh yes, I did that.
Last Thursday there was a snuffles scare in the two cages of rabbits getting ready for butchering. So rather than sending the rabbits off to be butchered, I did it. We couldn't wait the week or more for the butchering guy to have time in his schedule. It might have led to more rabbits getting sick. It had to be done.
Farmer Shawn at last?
Another thing I don't want to deal with? Tackling that sewing room. I really am in the mood to sew right now but the kids have trashed that room so badly that you can hardly walk in it.
Not to mention that the aforementioned children also lost the lower bobbin mechanism so the machine doesn't work.
And you know that I could buy a new one but they are $25. I'm cheap, have I mentioned that yet? Yeah, even if I had the money to burn, which I don't, I wouldn't spend it KNOWING that the damn piece is in that mess hole somewhere. Except that I hadn't wanted to sew enough to clean the room, so I just did nothing.
But now I do want to sew. So, I need to shake off my funk and get going.
It's just that I don't know if I can....
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Did you know that clicking is scientifically proven* to be good for your health and well-being? True**! And you can vote for me and my blog by clicking! Coincidence***? Improve your health today by clicking here. Or here. And once again here. Just for good measure, click here. Your body will thank you later****!
Fine print * - not even scientifically studied. If it has been, I have not read about it. ** - not true *** - totally NOT a coincidence **** - your body won't care at all. Thanks will not be forthcoming.
Whether I'm ready for it or not, the world, and my life, is moving on. Responsibilities don't go away, they pile up and lurk, waiting for you. As do happy things, which I am also not ready for quite yet.
During it all, I must remember what once was. And try not to imagine what can never be. It will be a slow healing process. I can't imagine life ever being the same again. And it won't be. Not completely.
But I'll learn.
And begin anew.
Because I must begin anew. Life starts over for me now. I have to learn all over again how to live this life, this gift. Because I've learned in the worst possible way that life is a gift, not a burden to be endured. And I am often guilty of forgetting, in the day to day bustle, to actually live.
And live is what I must do.
I won't be alone in my journey into this new world. There are hundreds if not thousands who were touched by Nate's life. We'll all do our best to live our lives in such a way that when we think of him, we feel that we are living up to his memory.
How do we do that? By being who we are, living authentically, consciously. This life needs to have even more connection and love. It needs to have more purpose. More quiet times to enjoy just being. More hugs. More laughs. Just more.
Just more.
Nathan, you will always be a part of my life. You have occupied that space in my life for over 17 years, since I first found out you existed in your mom. You cannot exit that space. Your body may left this world, but your spirit will remain in that space in my life, guiding me, reminding me of what matters most. And reminding me of happy times when each day I stumble upon something that stirs a memory of you.
Yes, it's been quiet around the blog the last few weeks.
First of all, it's been a crazy couple of weeks. The kids have dance, camp, swim lessons, puppet practice, play practice, violin, baby sitting, 4H, library classes and other things I'm sure my addled brain has forgotten. On top of that, I've been working every day. Between 8am and 8pm, I'm pretty much either in a car working or heading to an event, or else at that event. It is exhausting! Especially for me, the one who needs the downtime and the naps and the rest. Did I mention naps? Yeah, I love those. Haven't gotten any lately. Well, unless you count the 5 min where I fell asleep in the library waiting for Sandis to get out of her class. The one where Stella woke me up. Why? Because, "Mommy, you fell asleep!" Yep, doesn't count.
But, also, I am reflecting on how lucky I am to be in this position. You see, on June 14th, my nephew was hit by a car while riding a lawn tractor. He is in critical condition, in a medically induced coma. While I've been going through a hellish few weeks, it is nothing compared to what my BIL, SIL and niece are dealing with. Their son/brother has an uncertain future and they can only wait and pray and learn what they can from doctors.
It always amazes me how the world doesn't stop when things like this
happen. I keep thinking that we shouldn't have to do anything other
than work on making everything better for my nephew. I shouldn't be
working. Or taking kids to swim lessons. And other people certainly
shouldn't be celebrating their happiness. This horrible thing has
happened, don't they know that?!
I wake every morning thinking of my nephew. He is my last thought before falling asleep. I think of him often during the day. The baby boy who was so excited to receive a toothbrush for Christmas - he ripped open the package and started brushing immediately. The toddler who dragged our dog around for a week (don't worry, it was Nikki the Basset hound, she LOVED it, probably more than he did.) The young man who just made Eagle Scout. The geeky kid who was obsessed with computer keyboards. Another Walter family member who enjoyed watching Monty Python and the Princess Bride.
I'm sure I'll be back to posting all the inane things my kids say and do. My petty rants. My musings on life. But for now, it all seems to pale in comparison to the heath crisis of my nephew.
BC (Before Children,) Brian swore that his children would never play soccer. The game was too popular among kids who didn't even care about the World Cup on TV. Who would play a game and then not care about that same game? Plus, people were always whining about how their kids played soccer on Saturday and that was in competition with their attending Ram football games. And, of course there's always the, "the game is boring" defense.
Enter a 6 year old Sandis. She ran all the Healthy Kids runs and for a prize, received a gift card to Dick's Sporting Goods. With shining eyes fixed upon her prize, she announced, "I want to buy a soccer ball with my card!"
"Really," I asked, "do you want to play soccer?" A resounding, "yes!" No idea why or how she came up with the idea. She didn't know anyone who played, had never tried it out in the backyard, but she wanted to play.
That next spring, she became a soccer player. She hasn't missed a spring or fall season since, even doing a couple camps, several tournaments and a 3v3 league. She has no interest in any other sport. Doesn't care to take music lessons of any kind. Just playing soccer is enough.
And guess what? Brian doesn't care. He does tease her that other sports are better, to which she responds that they are NOT, but he is just glad she's found a sport she likes. It keeps her somewhat active, gives her a team of girls to hang with, and something she loves. What more could a dad want?
Not shy when going for the ball, unlike when speaking to people she doesn't know well.
She really has enjoyed playing goalie the last few seasons. They rotate at the position, so she's one of several goalies.
Going after the ball to take it away from the opponent, her favorite part.
At the year-end party everyone received new soccer balls and signed each others.
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Did you know that clicking is scientifically proven* to be good for your health and well-being? True**! And you can vote for me and my blog by clicking! Coincidence***? Improve your health today by clicking here. Or here. And once again here. Just for good measure, click here. Your body will thank you later****!
Fine print * - not even scientifically studied. If it has been, I have not read about it. ** - not true *** - totally NOT a coincidence **** - your body won't care at all. Thanks will not be forthcoming.
The other day, I had a most unusual awakening. First, I was woken up numerous times on the couch by dogs. Why was I on the couch? Because Stella "couldn't sleep" in her bed and decided sleeping underneath me would be better. It worked for her. Not so much for me, I moved.
But, sadly that's not the unusual part. No, for my final awakening of the morning, I got a jar of nondescript green sludge in my face. The child holding said jar was asking to put it in the oven. Wait, what?
You see, it's a 4H experiment. For Veterinary Science. She has many, many jars with a cup of either rabbit pellet food or hay in them. Then she adds water to half of them. Then they sit around the house. Some open, some closed. Some with water, some without. Some in the refrigerator, some on the table. This particular one needed to be kept at 80 degrees so could she put it in the oven?
No. Um, the oven doesn't even have an 80 degree setting, why didn't she wait until mid-day when it actually was 80 degrees outside? Because, muth-er (word indicated intense disappointment in and stupidity of person at whom it is directed,) it needs to be 80 degrees for two weeks.
Two weeks. She wants to put a jar of mushy rabbit food in the oven for two weeks.
She was sorely disappointed that I didn't have a method for her to accomplish this temperature stability for her experiment. And she was even more disappointed when I asked why she was wasting such large quantities of rabbit food. I had ruined the experiment. Now she knew the outcome! You mean you didn't figure out that dumping water onto rabbit food would spoil it?
sigh
Just think, only six more experiments to go.
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Did you know that clicking is scientifically proven* to be good for your health and well-being? True**! And you can vote for me and my blog by clicking! Coincidence***? Improve your health today by clicking here. Or here. And once again here. Just for good measure, click here. Your body will thank you later****!
Fine print * - not even scientifically studied. If it has been, I have not read about it. ** - not true *** - totally NOT a coincidence **** - your body won't care at all. Thanks will not be forthcoming.
We've had our chickens for almost a year now. I can now completely comprehend the hilarity of the "Henny Penny the sky is falling" story. A chicken would totally think the sky was falling if something fell on its head. She would half fly, half run around the yard, cackling and clucking about the end of the world. I'm not sure she would remember long enough to engage other species in her "the world is ending" quest, but surely she could get her sisters involved. Because if one chicken is scared of something, the rest are bound to be freaked out too. Survival mechanism, I'm sure. Also, damn funny to watch. If you are in desperate need of a laugh, you've got to see a stampede of chickens across the yard.
This lack of bravery on the part of chickens is why it strikes me as particularly funny when people post on Craigslist about "Chicken Coups" for sale. A chicken could not possible lead up a coup. The thought of chickens revolting against anything is just ludicrous. A loud noise, a shadow, a hard rain drop simulating the sky falling would send them into a tizzy. They would be less imposing than the British knights facing the French in the Holy Grail.
Brian thinks that maybe if you had enough chickens, they could overwhelm you with sheer numbers. I have been in a Tyson barn of 10,000 chickens. You would need a lot more than that. A lot.
And who would want to buy a chicken coup? Most people want chickens for their eggs. Some for meat. A few for random reasons like they are nice ambiance or what have you. None of those reasons seems compatible with a revolt.
So who is buying these chicken coups?
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Did you know that clicking is scientifically proven* to be good for your health and well-being? True**! And you can vote for me and my blog by clicking! Coincidence***? Improve your health today by clicking here. Or here. And once again here. Just for good measure, click here. Your body will thank you later****!
Fine print * - not even scientifically studied. If it has been, I have not read about it. ** - not true *** - totally NOT a coincidence **** - your body won't care at all. Thanks will not be forthcoming.
Last summer I decided I wanted rabbits. After much debate, and after talking to our friend Sue, we decided on Palominos. Palominos are a pretty, golden rabbit that are also friendly and calm. And big because they are meat rabbits. Now some may not like the idea of eating bunnies, but think about 1) if you aren't vegetarian, well, this is humanely raised meat. 2) I couldn't see breeding a slew of pets that had no homes, that seemed irresponsible.
In any case, our two does have been good mothers with large litters so we have lots of bunnies now. . Currently 18 and expecting another litter any day. Here is our journey, in pictures:
Naked baby bunnies, Day 1 (Harn's babies)
Nine days old, look, there's some fur! (Wenet's babies)
A bit cuter at 11 days, fur AND eyes open (Harn's baby)
19 days, the peak of cuteness (Harn's baby)
Wenet and some of her many babies who are 5.5 wks
The does at 9.5 weeks old. Weighed in at 3.2 lbs last Wednesday (Harn's babies)
Some of the bucks chillin', 9.5 wks old.(Harn's babies)
The does in their hutch (Harn's babies)
And the bucks in theirs.(Harn's babies)
New rabbit shed for the 6-hole cage.
That's all so far. Now to wait for Harn's latest litter (any day) and Wenet's in a couple weeks. Then we have to choose the best of them for the Fair.
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Did you know that clicking is scientifically proven* to be good for your health and well-being? True**! And you can vote for me and my blog by clicking! Coincidence***? Improve your health today by clicking here. Or here. And once again here. Just for good measure, click here. Your body will thank you later****!
Fine print * - not even scientifically studied. If it has been, I have not read about it. ** - not true *** - totally NOT a coincidence **** - your body won't care at all. Thanks will not be forthcoming.
