Thursday, July 31, 2008

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Happy Birthday Bumblebee!!

Today is Bumblebee's fifth birthday. I took the day off and we're having a fun time... I'll post more about it later, but for now, here are then and now pictures of the little gal:



Happy Birthday to my little animal terrorizer lover!

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

Stormy Sunday

At work we say that we are in e-mail jail when Outlook won’t let you send emails until you’ve reduced the size of your inbox. Right now I’m in blog jail too. I took pictures to add to this post, but I can’t load them anywhere, because we have no internet at home thanks to the storm that blew through the area on Sunday. And, since the prison guards IT administrators at work have locked down my laptop so that I can’t use a jump drive to load pictures here at work, I am stuck.

So I guess that means I’ll have to create pretty pictures instead of posting the ones I took.

I mentioned the storm on Sunday. It arrived quite unexpectedly around 4 p.m. I was in The Boy’s room putting on a new door handle (you didn’t know I was so handy, did you?) when Hollywood came to tell me there was a tornado warning. “Say Wha?” I said. I’d been outside ten minutes earlier. It was hot and sticky, but not tornadoey out there.

So we went downstairs and turned on the news. Sure enough, there was a bad storm coming, and boy did it hit our neighborhood. The wind and rain were terrible; I actually had the kids get into what we lovingly refer to as the mushroom closet (because of the damp, musty smell). I, of course, was right by the sliding glass doors (do as I say, children, not as I do...) and I saw trees that were parallel to the ground, lots of gray and green swirlies and a TON of water.

Then the power went out and the soothing voice of John McLaughlin, our weather guy, who was telling me that now was not a time to panic, but a time to be safe, went silent. A river began to form in our back yard, and the water came up to the bottom of the siding glass door by our patio. I heard a loud crash and saw that a large branch from our next door neighbor’s tree fell and barely missed our house.

Meanwhile, The Husband was out shopping at Target. They herded all of the customers into a back storage room to wait out the storm. He kept in contact with us via cell phone until his mom called him. She was in the car driving up north for the evening when the storm hit. She pulled over and talked with The Husband during the worst of the storm. Thank God she didn't get blown off the road.

After a while, the storm passed and Target let The Husband come home. We went outside to find tree branches and limbs everywhere! Our neighbors across the street had a tree fall onto one of their cars. (Better them than me…. I know, that's not a nice neighborly thought, but seriously... it is better that it was them, right?)

We still had no power, and we were hungry. I decided to use the grill to make BLTs:

But, the problem with that is, it took an hour to fry a pound of bacon! Still, we ate. And eating is good.

Later that night, after we cleaned up the twigs, we went inside. Because we had no tv, X-Box, Internet, stereo, and not enough light to read by, we all sat in the living room and listened to The Husband play his guitar. He wanted me to sing along too, but I don’t sing unless alcohol is involved, and it wasn’t.

Bumblebee had gotten an early birthday present, so she sat on the floor with the little remaining light left from the open front door and windows and played. When it got too dark for her to see, we moved all of the candles we could find into the living room and put them on the piano so that she could play with her toys. (I really did take a cool picture of the candles in the dark… I won’t even try to recreate that one. Just trust me, it looked cool.)

Later that evening, more storms ripped through, the second round bringing golf ball sized hail. I was afraid the ceiling of my sun room would take on the appearance of my cellulitey thighs when the storm was done, but not even a dimple poked through the roof. I was up most of the night, because of the rain – it went on and on all night long. Our area again has flooding, and trust me, we don’t need any more flooding around these parts.

Onto other news, today is the last day Bumblebee will ever be 4 years old. Last night, she started tearing up and said with a quivering chin, “Momma, I’m kind of sad that I won’t be four anymore. I like being four.” I assured her that great things will come of being five years old. Hopefully I will be out of blog jail soon so that I can post the birthday pictures…

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Do All Dentists Smoke Crack?

Once upon a time there was a woman who was very smug about her teeth. They weren't the straightest or best looking teeth in the world, but for many years they were cavity free and healthy. This woman's mouth was even big enough to house her wisdom teeth without overcrowding or becoming impacted or coming down with any other horrible wisdom teeth calamities. The woman was vigilant about brushing and even kept a toothbrush and toothpaste at work so she could brush after lunch in the restroom - even though she got odd looks from her coworkers for doing so.

This woman cringed when she heard people talk about cavities and crowns and fillings and bridges and extracting procedures, etc. The thoughts of Novocaine numbness, drooling after a dental procedure, and the sound and smell of dental work were much like thoughts of enjoying a night out on the town with Jon Bon Jovi. They existed only in her imagination - she had no experience to draw upon.

When the woman turned 30, she went to a dentist who told her that her teeth were in fabulous shape and cavity free, but to please remember to floss.

Two years later, the woman went to a different dentist. This one told her she had five cavities and would need some 'work' done. She scoffed at him and said, "But you don't understand. I have genetically superior teeth. I haven't had a cavity in 32 years."

The young dentist explained that her teeth could have been affected by her recent pregnancy, and that at some point in everyone's adult life, decay starts to hasten in the teeth. He said her teeth were still in pretty decent shape and that getting these offending cavities filled would help prevent further decay. Since the woman thought the courteous young dentist was smoking crack, she did what any intelligent person would do. She ignored him and didn't go back to have her teeth checked out for three years.

At the next appointment, she saw another dentist. This one got down to business. He used the scrapy sharp thing to poke in the spaces that might be cavities. He stabbed at the woman's gums and then told his nice assistant to notate the ones that had the audacity to bleed. Then he got all high tech and used a laser instrument that hummed a different frequency based on the level of decay in the woman's teeth. As he spoke with his assistant, he spoke a different language that sounded like English but was really Dentist. He was all 'distal, medial' and 'occlusal' and 'prophylaxis' (this reminded the woman of a similar word, prophylactic, which means 'condom.') It was all very difficult to decipher, but based on the amount of ink used by the perky assistant to record all of his remarks, the woman started to think that there might not be a great result to this examination.

Finally, the dentist took off his mask and gently patted the woman's hand. He then told the woman that she had many cavities. In fact, there were so many that she has to break up the procedures into three separate appointments to get the work done and it will cost the equivalent of twenty-two average priced shirts from the Gap. If it weren't for the x-rays and the explanations and the 65 minute exam that was more thorough than any dental exam the woman had ever undergone, she would have thought this dentist was smoking crack, just like the last one.

Hey, wait a minute... maybe all dentists smoke crack. That would explain things.

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Today is my mom's birthday. I won't give away how old she is, but it was her 16th birthday when man walked on the moon.

Happy Birthday, Mom!! Love ya!!

Friday, July 18, 2008

Finally Friday!

I’m pretty excited because tonight I get to go out on a date.

The Husband and I are heading up to the Minneapolis/St. Paul area to go on a dinner cruise with his co-workers. Sure, a 7 hour round trip for one evening might be extreme, but since his company is paying for the gas, the hotel, and the event, I’m all for it! Should be fun!


Last night we got to see The Boy at camp. He is such a little sweetheart. I miss him so much! I know, I know… I’m a total geek and what on earth will I do when my kids go to college? My plan for now is to coerce them to go to the University that is 20 minutes away from our home so that they’ll come back to do free laundry. It’s my alma mater and it’s without a doubt the best university in the state, so why not, right?? Anyway, back to The Boy and camp... We arrived at the campsite and The Boy was nowhere to be found. I later discovered that he was in his tent, frantically searching for his Boy Scout shirt. Leave it to my little guy to lose his uniform shirt in a space the size of a bathroom. That’s how The Boy rolls. After about 5 minutes of searching (no joke) he found it and came out and put it on. I purchased that shirt for him – brand new- last week. If you look at the picture a few posts down from before he left for camp, you’ll see that it was in good condition. It's in worse shape now. Two buttons are missing and it's stained and wrinkled. This is so typical of my son that I just had to chuckle when I saw him.

He seemed to be enjoying his week away, though it’s apparently "no red meat" week at the camp and they’ve had turkey for almost every meal. He went through a list of turkey products much like Bubba does with shrimp in Forest Gump: turkey sausage, turkey patties, turkey bacon, turkey eggs, turkey sandwiches… Camp without hamburgers and hot dogs? Yikes, I say - unfortunate week to go to camp! He said that he forgot what our house looks like and that he was just a little bit homesick. He comes home tomorrow at noon, which is about the time TH and I will be returning from Minnesota, so that will be nice.


I’m listening to Dickens’ Great Expectations on mp3 in my car. I’ve never read it before, and I’m so glad I grabbed it as my “commute book”. Seriously, it’s amazingly entertaining. I’m still in the early stages of the novel but I’m not kidding you – I absolutely love the character development done by Dickens, and the humor! Good grief, it’s funny!


I just found out that one of my sisters in law is expecting. This is such great news!! That means we’ll have two new babies in the family soon! One sister in law is having a baby girl next month, and then this new baby will be born sometime this winter, I imagine. I really hope this cures my baby itch. I’ve had it something fierce lately. Maybe it’s because Bumblebee is heading to Kindergarten in a few weeks, or maybe it’s because babies are being born everywhere, but I really, really have that itch. I hope the itch is scratched by these new nieces and nephews that I should be getting soon.

That’s about all I know for now. Work is still crazy and massively stressful this week, but it’s winding down and I’m out of this joint as soon as I publish this post, so that’s good news.

Have a great weekend!

Thursday, July 17, 2008

Quote of the Day

From Bumblebee, who was gazing up at the trees surrounding the Boy Scout camp as we enjoyed a visit with The Boy on Family night:

Mama, are we in Africa?

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Dirty Jobs

I have a not-so-secret crush on Mike Rowe, the host of Dirty Jobs. I don't regularly watch his show because it causes me to shudder and squeal, "ew, ew, gross!" like an eight year old girl. But I love the guy and have seen the show enough that my my heart gets all aflutter if I think happy thoughts about Mr. Rowe. I've always liked that rugged, use your muscles during your day job kind of thing, and he does it so well. And with such charming humility. And check out that that sort of 'are you kidding me?' smile!

*fanning self*

But that's not what this post is about. It's about a sucky, horrible, awful job. (mine)

Here are just a few of the icky things Mike has done for his job:
  • Fish Gutter
  • Salmon Carcass Counter
  • Road Kill Remover
  • Septic Tank Cleaner
  • Skull Cleaner
  • Worm Poop Rancher
  • Chick Sexer
  • Horse Inseminator
  • Pregnant Cow Examiner
I guess my job boils down to just a couple of neat titles:
  • Idiot wrangler to a bunch of chicken little 'the sky is falling' freaks
  • Sleep deprived zombie
So when I have a particularly crappy week at my cushy Giant Ass Bank job, where nary an animal carcass can be found, I should remember that there are worse jobs out there, right?

I'm not sure, though. After the last two sleepless days, I think it might be preferable to scoop up bat shit in a dark cave with only the light of a headlamp to guide the way.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Busy Weekend!

Wow - this was a busy weekend!

Friday night The Husband returned home from a week in Florida - we were happy to see him. Then, first thing Saturday morning, we were off to walk in the Summerfest parade for the Obama supporters with my mother-in-law. We got off to a cold and rainy start, and waiting for the parade to start moving wasn't the most fun, but once we got going, it was a nice time. Bumblebee and The Boy passed out candy. Bumblebee kept flinging the candy as hard as she could at the crowds, so we had to get her to go easy on the candy missles. My mother-in-law is very enthusiastic about her support for Barack, so she was out there hollering and leading cheers. It was fun to watch - but when pressed to join in and be just as loud and boisterous, Hollywood politely declined. She was content to quietly mouth the words to each cheer.

After the parade, we had a lazy Saturday and then the family went out to dinner at Red Lobster. I know I'm a total geek for this, but seriously, I freaking LOVE that place. I left with a full belly and wished I hadn't eaten as much as I had, but yum. That all, just yum.

Today was another packed day. We got up at the crack of dawn for the Summerfest 5K. This time The Boy agreed to run in it. It was his first race!! He hadn't ever ran the full 3.1 mile distance before, so our goal was just to have fun and do the best we could. Since I had a new running partner, Hollywood was able to break free from running with her slow mom, and she had a goal of a sub 30 minute 5K. She shattered that goal with a 28:14 performance. My sister-in-law also ran the race and she finished in under 30 minutes too. Way to go, speed demons!! The Boy and I weren't as speedy, but we finished the entire distance without stopping to walk, which is a great accomplishment for The Boy's first race. I was so proud of both kids!

Then, after the race, we ran to the store to get the last of the supplies we needed for The Boy's fun week at camp. He left at noon to go to Boy Scout camp and will be gone for an entire week! I'm having hug withdrawal already. He was so excited to go - I know he's going to have a fabulous time. Here he is getting ready to haul his stuff to camp. Isn't the combination of his boy scout shirt and swim trunks a great look? That's how they told him to arrive, so we went with it...

This week will be different. The Husband's out of town again, so it'll be a girls only week. Think we might have to do some girl bonding with a shopping trip or two!

Well, I should close this for now. Bumblebee is throwing a tantrum because it's bedtime and she doesn't want to go to sleep. Sigh. Off to fight the daily nighttime battle...

Friday, July 11, 2008

Overheard in the Ballpark

My brother and his fiancee took us to a baseball game last night. We had a great time!

A group of young adults who were probably in their late teens or early twenties sat right behind us. When the players go up to bat, they list their stats, including birthdate, on the jumbotron.

I overheard one of the young women say this to her boyfriend:

"Wow - that guy's old. He was born in 1973."

That's the year I was born in. I wanted to 'accidentally' dump my metamucil on her.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Ribbit, Ribbit!

Bumblebee found a toad yesterday. She played with it all evening, and, without our knowledge, trapped the little warty guy in an upside down storage container all night so that she could play with it all day today too.

Poor toad! What do you suppose is going through his head when a human, 200 times his size, picks him up and takes him from place to place for the better part of two days?

They visited the rock garden together. Bumblebee built a toad home for him in the sand by the playhouse. She 'helped' the toad slide down the slide. He also took a dip in the kiddie pool, went for a ride on the porch swing, got carted around in a wagon, and was force-fed my purple clematis blooms. (I do hope they're not toxic to amphibians.) Bumblebee was going to force the croaky-one to play dress-up with Barbie clothes in her bedroom before I intervened. I made her put him down. Croaky was dazed and sat frozen for a moment before he realized he was free. Then he hopped away.

I think this little guy's going to need some toad therapy after these two days of torture. That is, if he survives The Husband's lawn mower. Hop away fast, Toady!

Saturday, July 5, 2008

Holiday Weekend - A Picture Post

We're having a really low key (boring - the nice, relaxing kind of boring- and not terribly blog-worthy) 4th of July weekend.

It has included the following:


More horseshoes...

Hammocks and hamburgers...

Telephone calls...


And Fireworks!!

Hope y'all are having a great holiday weekend!!!

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Alien vs. Unicorn

Bumblebee got one hell of a goose egg right smack in the middle of her forehead last night. She got in the way of The Boy's baseball bat. It wasn't pretty, and she'll have a nice bruise (and lump) for a while, I'm sure.

I'm such a nice mom. I told her she looked like an alien. (The new slope of her forehead looked Klingonesque to me.)

She didn't seem to like the thought of looking like an alien and that upset her even more. D'oh. I'm a dolt.

Enter Hollywood, stage right, to save the day: She scooped up her little sister, gave her a gentle hug and said, "I think you look like a beautiful unicorn."

Note to self: Looking like a unicorn is much more appealing to a 4 year old girl than looking like an alien.


On a similar note, Bumblebee didn't like the adorable red gingham shorts I put on her this morning. She threw a fit about how they 'weren't pretty' and then pulled out what she thought was her trump card:

"Mom, these shorts don't match the bump on my head." Guess I should have found purplish blue shorts for her to wear.

Wednesday, July 2, 2008

Overheard in the Office

Have you ever been to Overheard in the Office? It's a great time-killing blog for those of us who are working for the man. Pretty funny for you lucky folks who don't work for a Giant Ass Company too. Cube dwellers from all over the world say really stupid (and hysterical) things and people submit them for entries.

I cracked up at one of this morning's entries:

(at a three day workshop)

Suit #1
: I don't think I can sit through another afternoon of this.

Suit #2: It's not as bad as yesterday. I'm finding it quite interesting.
Suit #1: That's what you call Stockholm Syndrome, when you start to love your kidnapper.