TCRG - The War on Charlie

This is what my yard looks like:

Have you ever seen so much Creeping Charlie??!!?!?!  There is a little grass mixed in, but this is what 90% of the yard looks like.  Not so much in the pasture or in any parts of the yard that we don't use; but all over in the parts that we do in fact use. 

So, here is the mission: To Destroy Charlie. 
(I am not making light of any other historical references to Destroying Charlie, I am just however borrowing the reference in a lighter hearted manner.  I am fighting a war of my own - disclaimer)

When we had the party a few weeks ago, my Grandparents and Ma were here.  And as we toured the garden, the sadness crept (get it?) over Grams face.  I watched it come in, and she said in her best concerned voice, "Oh Tina, look how much Creeping Charlie you have.  What a project you have ahead of you!"  And I do.  I listened very carefully as we discussed different options to rid the yard of this beast.  We finally decided that the best bet might just be to start over.  Kill the entire yard and start fresh. 

And so it has begun:

I started in the back corner, and am making my way out.  The only problem here is that in that back corner, there are some plants that I actually DO like.  So, I have to take them out and move them before I can spray out the entire area.
Day 1 - I stood in 1 spot and sprayed as far as the nozzle would go.  I sprayed until my hands got sore. 
Day 2 - I took 1 step back and sprayed as far as the nozzle would go, I sprayed until my hands got sore.
Day 3 - I took 1 more step back and sprayed as far as the nozzle would go, sprayed until my hands got sore. 
You get the picture....here is the progress....

So far, this was working out great.  But then I ran out of Round Up.  So, Deron brought home some 2, 4-D weed killer.  The problem with this stuff folks, is that it is super toxic...and we have pets, and a well.  Definitely I am concerned with the livelihood of our beloved 4 legged friends.  I am more concerned that this will seep into our groundwater and contaminate our well.  So, off to Google I go. 

While researching this 2,4-D stuff, I find out that it is not nearly as toxic as I believe it to be.  It was developed in the 1940's during WWII to help farmers increase crop yields for a nation at war.  It was the first successful herbicide and really worked well for "Cereal" crops (rice, wheat, corn) because it only kills the broad leaf plants and leaves behind the grasses.  (Unlike the Round Up I've been using which totally killed everything!)

So, my fears have been calmed.  We do still need to be aware and cautious for our pets, they can not be let into the treated area for at least 2 days.  But my ground water fear has been laid to rest.  Deron tried last night to tell me that the "well is 135 feet underground, we would have to saturate the entire area for it to get into our well."  And of course, Google confirmed this; however, I was under the impression that we would have to saturate the entire area, that is what I had been doing with the Round Up.  Turns out this stuff is much better!  I don't have to saturate.  Just get the leaves wet. 

I also learned that Creeping Charlie thrives in moist, shady areas.  Did you happen to get a good look at the pictures....definitely a moist, shady area!!  There will also be some major trimming going on!!  This will benefit my vegetable garden as well, there is entirely too much shade in that front area.  So, I'm excited to start begging Deron to do this for me.  I also learned that the best time to do this is in the fall when the plants are coming to an end and begin to go dormant and store nutrients.  They will actually store the herbicide rather than nutrients and almost never return when sprayed in the fall.  I'll do this again in the fall!

So, now I am super excited to get a jump start on this project!!  Starting inside the fenced garden to get the Charlie out.  Finishing up outside the garden to keep it from creeping back in.  I also found that this 2,4-D stuff will kill the Stinging Nettles we have all over outside the fence.  Praise Jesus!!

Anyways, today is my Gram's 76th birthday, and I am excited to get re-started on this whole Charlie situation tonight.  It'll be my present to you Gram, a Charlie Free yard.  Can't wait for you to see the end result.  Thank you for all the great ideas Gram, Grampa and Ma, we're gonna lick this thing, watch and see!

Why do I have to have hormones?! And emotions!?

So, if you are not a girl, you may as well stop reading this right now.  You will not understand.  And while girls sometimes appreciate your efforts to understand us; it will never happen.  And I am sure you have better "manly" things to be doing, like not talking about your emotions. 

The story starts like this: a few years ago, I am diagnosed with PMDD. Here is the description from Google:  "Premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) is a condition in which a woman has severe depression symptoms, irritability, and tension before menstruation. The symptoms of PMDD are intensely more severe than those seen with premenstrual syndrome (PMS)."  This diagnosis takes many months and tons of tracking and all the other crap the docs make you do to make sure they give you the right answers.  So, we decide that it is PMDD and we will treat it accordingly.  Enter low-dose anti-depressant medication to be taken for only 2 weeks of the month.  Eventually we adjust the dosage and I am taking every day; doubling dosage for the key 2 weeks.  Crazy pills we call them, because let me just tell you....you know when I don't take them!!

As time goes on, the side effects of the medication are too much and I just can't take it anymore.  These side effects are interfering with my daily life.  So, against my doctors wishes (and probably everyone elses), I stop taking my "crazy pills".  This is the 2nd monthly event without my crazy pills. And I kinda (and by kinda, I mean Super Bad Really) want them back. 

Oh yeah, and on top of this lovely crazy disorder I have...I also have a whole bunch of giant cysts on my ovaries.  PCOS was the initial diagnosis, it has since been taken back with a "sorry about that"  and replaced with "you have a whole bunch of giant cysts on your ovaries, ultra sound kinda looks like bundles of grapes. Take these birth control pills, they will help control the size."  I don't need birth control, my partner is fixed.  I don't need extra hormones...hello...remember the part about the crazy.  What I would really like is something better for the pain that I experience each and every month when I ovulate!  But that is beside the point.  I have to deal with this pain on top of the whole PMDD thing.  Pain + Crazy Emotional Chick = Better run and hide!!

Let's run down the list of PMDD symptoms, just a few...
 - Physical symptoms, such as bloating, breast tenderness, headaches, and joint or muscle pain -  
*while these are incredibly uncomfortable, and vary in intensity from "month to month", they are always apparent.  This morning I could hardly get out of bed, my back hurt so bad.  And I am not sure why my knee has decided to not function correctly anymore, it'll be better in  5-7 days, be patient.  The others apply too, but we are sticking with the PG-rated version.  Let's just say that the air affects my chest in new ways I never thought possible.  I don't like breezes, and I don't like rain.  I also don't like light (any light, sunlight, the florescent lights at work, the lamp beside my bed, any light period), loud (or really any) noises, I don't like anything that makes my eyes shift quickly, and I also don't like anything that does not contain salt. 
- Persistent irritability or anger that affects other people -
*This is actually the main reason that I went in and talked to my doctor.  I am irritable.  And Angry.  Very.  Like to the point that you probably don't even want to be around me, at all, like go stay at a hotel.  Do not look at me, do not talk to me, do not make noise around me, pretty much don't do anything around me.  And even that is no guarantee!  I will probably find fault with you in your absence, or just plain resent you for not being there.  Seriously, no one wanted to be anywhere near me.  No one, not even my dog.  And dogs love unconditionally. 
-Mood swings marked by periods of teariness-
* And why I chose this topic today.  On the way to my eye doctor appointment earlier, there is a song on the radio, a new song I haven't heard before, and I start crying.  Not like the normal "awe, sniffle, sniffle."  No, like, I have to pull over on the side of the road because I am heaving and sobbing.  Tears are coming so fast and furious, I can't see anything.
Goes a little something like this:
"My baby's growin' up-Thinks she's falling all in love-And that I hate her-At seventeen, she's just like me when I was seventeen-So I don't blame her-Remember when we used to be-Everything they'd ever need-We had them believing we were cool-It's like it happened over night-We're always wrong, they're always right-We used to be the ones breakin' all the rules-Now we're just mothers, we're just fathers- Of teenage daughters-She rolls her eyes when I'm funny-But she's sweet when she wants money, and her freedom-Oh my God, she's got a car-Swears they won't go far-And I wish I believed 'em"
Teenage Daughters is this song, by Martina McBride.  And here I go again, just talking about it!  UGH!!! 
Ok, I think I am put back together ok for now, thank God no one ever uses the conference room across from my desk!!  There have been many other emotional triggers today that I just can't quite grasp...the burrito I had for breakfast had eggs and ketchup (and ham, cheese, spinach, tomatoes, mushrooms, onions, peppers and hashbrowns), my Dad used to put ketchup on his eggs.  Cry fest.  I walk to a meeting and my knee is not cooperating, this somehow translates into my mind as, "I just turned 30 and my body is starting to fall apart, I will be an old spinster in no time because no one will want to take care of me , even my family doesn't like me."  Cry fest.  I was offered a part of a prize from a co-worker, I chose the thermometer since ours is broken, for some reason, I am not exactly sure, the flippin thermometer set me off.  And I couldn't put it down, I carried it with me for 3 freaking hours!!  My thermometer security blanket.  There are more, but I'll zip it.

Not exactly sure if there is a point to all this, and in fact, I am starting to get my irritation on....I can hear people talking.  They are not talking about other people, they are not talking loud, they are not doing anything out of the ordinary, or wrong.  But I can hear them, and I don't want to, it bugs me.
So bottom line today, I am irritated, I am emotional, I am really super hungry for chocolate, peanut butter, and salt.  And I don't like it.  And it's an ongoing saga.  And I don't like it.  Stupid woman parts.

True Confessions of a Rookie Gardener

There is a lot of stuff in my blood, and gardening is one of them.  Since the beginning of the Kelly/Kastner Klans, there has been gardening.  Beautiful flower gardens with bright, lively flowers and lush, radiant greenery.  And produce gardens that are productive enough to sustain multiple families.  This is in my genes, and I indend to find it. 
On Mother's Day, Addie and I planted some Zinnia seeds she had gotten.  Mother's Day, so early May.  On the package it says that these seeds will flower in as little as 7 days.  Not so much.  And not only have they not fully flowered yet, they are getting wrecked by something. 


I tried some insect stuff from the plant shop, no workie.  Then I turned on google.  I love google.  It's like a portable encyclopedia, friggen genius!  Turns out this whole time, it's my own fault that these flowers are struggling to stay alive. 

Step 1:

Prepare a bed for zinnias that receives full sun, defined as six to eight hours of direct sunlight per day. Till the soil to a depth of eight inches and add well-composted manure or compost to increase aeration and improve drainage.

*OK, this is simple enough.  I get out a couple pots, and fill them with potting soil.  What I didn't know is that not all potting soils are created equally.  And I bought the crap kind, the kind that holds more water than a sponge...no aeration.

Step 2:

Seedlings emerge in three to five days depending on the temperature of the soil. Once seedlings have emerged and have developed the second set of leaves, thin to one plant per pot.
*It's not been warm since Mother's Day.  Well, I mean it has, but not consistently, in fact just a few weeks ago it was 40 degrees overnight.  So, strike 1, not warm.  Next, thin to one plant per pot.  Not sure if you noticed, there is way more than 1 per pot.  Strike 2.

Step 3:

Space plants 9 to 12 inches apart. Cover lightly with soil and keep evenly moist until seeds germinate.

*Fail

Step 4:

Water regularly until the plants are established. Monitor for signs of excessively dry soil or wilting of leaves.  Avoid getting moisture on the leaves which are prone to mildew. Harvest zinnias before the flower is completely open for an impressive cut flower that holds well in a vase.

*Fail. Again.  I watered them lovingly, often, as in tons of water droplets on leaves and puddles in the soil.  Wilting of leaves, well I don't necessarily think they look wilted, but they do look gross.  

They are starting to flower and will be significantly thinned next time I have some motivation, so we will have to monitor this progress.  I am starting to see a few pink blossoms perking out.  My first thought was when thinning, to transplant some to the front of the house, right into the ground.  Then I read that the roots are temperamental.  Let's try anyway.  Half of this finding my Inner Gardener will have to be trial and error, right?  I think the other half will probably come from Google. 

I hate Father's Day

For many reasons, this is one of my least favorite holidays. 

For #1 - it often falls on my birthday, and I have to share the thunder.  I do not like this.  I am an Attention Whore, and the spotlight should be on me. 

For #2 - For many years, Addie didn't have a dad.  It was absolutely heartbreaking for me that she was not going to have someone to teach her how to throw a baseball or how to change a flat tire.  I know how to do this stuff, because my Dad taught me.  And I could teach her, but it's not the same.  But now she does.  And she still can't change a tire.  Or really throw a baseball.  She can, however: ride a 4-wheeler, go underwater without plugging her nose, and sing the Green Bay Packers song.  I guess the tire changing will have to wait.  I think this might be misunderstood.  I hated when she didn't have a dad, it really broke my heart.  Now she has a Dad.  And a Dad who loves her at that.  This is good, and the reason can be rotated off my list in time.

For #3 - My Dad is in heaven.  How do you celebrate a day dedicated to someone if they are not there to share it with you?  I hate that.
For some reason, I have been having a really hard time with fathers day this year.  It's come same as it has the last 3 years since Dad's been gone and this one just seems extra awful.  So, I've been trying to focus on all of the good memories I have. 
I remember one time when Alicia and I were little girls and he still lived in the Queen Anne.  She had gotten a pitching machine and we were all outside testing it out.  You stepped on this little pedal and the ball shot out at you.  By shot out, I mean launched gently. At the time, it seemed like it was faster than a rocket.  We both missed repeatedly.  This was the day we learned the "International Sign for Quit Playing Like a Girl".  I used it at a Cubs game a couple years ago.  Thanks Dad!
I remember our games we used to play in the car all the time.  Dad would come pick us girls up every other weekend and we would drive the hour and a half back to his house.  And then bring us home again on Sunday.  That is a couple really long drives with 2 little girls fighting over who is touching whose penis in the back seat.  I learned more about sports trivia, state capitals, music history, and estimating time from those car rides than I think any book or teacher could have ever taught me.  Thanks Dad!
I remember that every year for my birthday, Dad would take us to Valleyfair.  I remember one year, I think I was turning 7 or 8.  I really, really wanted a bike.  I got to go to Valleyfair.  I remember being so upset at the time, but now, I wouldn't want it any other way.  The memories that we made when we were little girls are priceless.  Conquering our fears, going on rides til we puked, and going back home, burnt to a crisp and completely exhausted, but together...every single year.  I did end up getting that bike for Christmas, and had to wait 6 months to ride it, but wouldn't have it any other way, now. Thanks Dad!
I remember when I turned 16 and Dad bought me a car.  I was so disappointed.  We had talked about,and in my mind he had promised me, a Honda Prelude.  In 1997, these were really cool cars.  I also wanted an Acura Integra, but we had settled on a Honda Prelude, or so I thought.  So...imagine my surprise when, unveiled to me, was a 1985 Oldsmobile Cutlass Sierra, Brougham Edition.  Oh, yes, my first car was a luxury sedan.  One that I thought was meant for old people.  I remember that I was not shy about my disappointment.  And I remember that I felt really bad for that later, as I should have.  Eventually, I did grow quite attached to that car.  We named her "Kitty", cause she purred.  And I drove it into the ground.  I locked the keys in it so many times I had a tab at All American Towing. I liked to prove to my friends how indestructible she was. Many conversations in my car started out with, "Hey, watch this."  I turned that thing into a money pit.  I am necessarily sure that it was my fault it kept falling apart; however, I am sure that my lack of driving skills and lack of proper car maintenance skills were a huge part of it.  But Dad took care of it, and I had a car that worked, and I never appreciated it.  I drove that car until 2001.  When Adeline was born, and I was in the hospital.  Someone broke in to my car stole my stereo (which he also bought me and I never was grateful enough for).  We decided it was time.  We had already replaced more on the car than was original.  I sold it for $300 and 2 weeks later the guy called and wanted his money back as the car had blown up.  Literally, blown up.  It started on fire.  I said sorry.  And since then, I did not have a car that was "worth it", until I bought my very own brand new car in 2005.  And I still have that brand new car.  I learned to take care of it, that's why I still have it.  When Kitty died, I had shit cars, because dad quit taking care of them.  Hmmmm....interesting, take care of your shit and it will last.  I also learned that I took a lot of things for granted, and I expected things to be handed to me.  Where the hell was my work ethic?  That came later, when he told me, "If you don't work, you don't get paid."  Simple right.  Yeah, it was.  And it finally makes sense.  Thanks Dad!
I also remember when I got pregnant with Adeline.  Dad was not really happy that I had chosen to not go to college right after I graduated High School.  I didn't see the big deal, I wanted to take a couple years off to just work (and smoke pot all day, because clearly, this was the right choice to make).  It was going really well, this arrangement I had, until April 2000.  I had just started a new job (the I think 4th job since graduating, the whole working thing wasn't going so well), and low and behold, I went and got myself knocked up.  I had taken Addie's sperm donor to meet him previously, and when I asked what he thought about him, Dad said, "You're the one that has to live with him."  Well turns out, that I didn't have to live with him.  But, having a baby at 19, alone, definitely makes a person grow up.  Dad was disappointed, I know he was.  He never said he was, but you could tell when I told him.  In 2008, when we were spending Tuesdays together, this was a topic that we revisited.  He told me how proud he was of me, how he had seen me grow into a mother, and become a good role model for my daughter.  I still take that to heart, all the time.  I'm a good role model.  Thanks Dad!
I remember when Dad got sick.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  I got off work and had a message on my cell phone that he was in town and wanted to see us girls.  So I called him and we agreed to meet at Alicia's house.  He took us girls out on the deck and our kids stayed in the house with the friend that was over.  He said, "I have ALS.  You might have heard of it as Lou Gehrig's Disease." And I instantly started crying. Not necessarily because I knew what that meant.  I had heard of the disease, but only knew that it was bad.  I didn't know what it was, at all.  But I knew that it had to be bad. For him to come to town on a Tuesday night, to tell us he had a disease, it had to be a bad disease. He went home, and I went home, and we all moved on.  So the next day at work, I googled it.  Worst Idea I Ever Had!!  How is a person supposed to react when they are reading that one of your idols will slowly melt away to nothing, eventually becoming a prisoner of his own body, and die.  Well, I cried.  A lot.  And I do believe I went home that day.  I remember telling Alicia what I had found out, and we cried together. 
Watching what ALS did to my Dad taught me so much.  About life, about being a parent, about courage, and about acceptance.  Not 1 time did I ever hear my dad say, poor me. or why me.  Never heard that. I came across a quote from Winston Churchill the other day, "Courage is infectious.  Truly remarkable courage is remarkably infectious."  It is so true.  He had an incredible amount of courage to face ALS the way he did.  The suicide rate among ALS patients, is scarily high.  And I can see why.  I would not want to live that way.  But he stuck it out.  Not for himself.  But for those around him.  He was concerned about the people around him, and how they felt.  Not that he couldn't walk anymore, or that he couldn't talk anymore.  He couldn't eat, he couldn't golf, he couldn't fish.  None of the things he like to do, were things that he could do anymore.  This is the part where his ability to take things in stride really came in handy.  He wanted the pain for the rest of us to fade.  He didn't dwell on the "can't".  He stuck around for us.  We needed him to stick around, we had more lessons to learn.
Something he wrote was, "Learn to appreciate everything around you.  There are so many beautiful things around you, especially the people in your life."  On the day he passed, his friend Dave came to the house.  He was obviously upset that Dad had passed, as we all were.  He came in, looked at Dad, and stormed outside, slamming the door behind him.  I cautiously followed him outside, not really sure what to expect, and he was so angry that Dad was gone.  He yelled, "Larry was the only one who ever really believed in me, and told me."  And it's true.  He did believe in him.  He has this crazy ability to see people for who they really were and what their true potential is.  Everyone in Dad's life, was blessed to have him in their life.  HE was one of the beautiful things around you.  Thanks Dad!
Something else I learned was how to love someone.  And how to let them love me back.  I didn't know what a healthy relationship looked like; therefore, I never really knew how to have one.  And that was not something that I ever really thought important.  That is until I started paying attention to him and Deb.  And I realized how wonderful and fun and exciting and encouraging love can be.  This was when I really started to pay attention to my own life.  Don't get me wrong, it has to be a special person, someone that you do want to spend time with, it won't work otherwise.  But, I have learned how to love Deron for who he is, even though he is not perfect, and he will never be.  He is perfect for me.  And I've learned to let Deron love me.  And take away the barriers that had been used to push others away, and to just open up and let it happen.  No one is perfect, in any way, and I have started to realize that me and Mary Poppins don't have as much in common as I had originally thought.  But, letting that guard down and realizing that a partnership is indeed a PARTNERSHIP, has really opened my eyes to what a forever relationship means.  Thanks Dad (& Ma)!
Dad also taught me to not hold myself back, or let others make my decisions for me.  "Don't let me hold you back." he said when we were thinking about moving out of MN.  I wanted to stay, to be closer.  He said no.  I had all kinds of reasons to stay.  And none of them were about me.  Or making my life better.  Or finding success or happiness.  They were about staying behind and taking care of others.  And this was what others wanted me to do.  I remember when I talked to him about it, he shook his head profusely at me, and repeatedly said, no, no, no.  At this point, he wasn't able to really move much or talk really at all.  But I will remember that always.  Sitting outside, by the garage, Grape Cigar in mouth, shaking his head and grunting NO at me.  When we went back inside, he typed on his talky box to not be afraid, and never let anything or anyone hold you back.  Moving away from Mankato has proved to be one of the best decisions I have ever, ever made.  I will never go back.  Thank you Dad for giving me that kick in the ass to move on and move up.

I sure do miss my Daddy, and I know that I always will, but for 27 years, I had a wonderful mentor.  And those life lessons, I am carrying with me today.  I just wish I had listened a little better.

Let me close by quoting him, "Everyone has their own perspective and the world is as you see it, and more importantly how you CHOOSE to see it.   There are really only 2 ways to go thru life, happy and unhappy.  You would be amazed how much of this YOU can actually control.  I know there are many things that you can't control or change, but there are far more things that you CAN.  My point being that you alone control most of the world you live in."  Words to live by folks "You alone control most of the world you live in."

What's a standard? And why am I holding them?

Yes, it is true that I do think I am better than most people.  Mostly, because I don't know most people, so therefore; I am automatically better than them. 

And I do hold different people to different standards.  If you are 5, you have 5 year old standards.  If you are 21, you have 21 year old standards. 
This is also true in your profession.  If you work in the service industry (waiter, phone rep, CS counter, cashier, etc.), there are standards that you should be meeting.  If you are in a professional work environment, there are different standards that you should be meeting. 
So, today, I am contemplating what those standards really should be.  I really think that I may hold people to a higher standard than what they might truly be capable of.  

Because I hold a higher standard to the older child, this is not bad.  The way I feel, at 16, there are a different set of standards.  I also feel that there are a different set of standards when you turn 3,16, 25, 37, 58 and beyond.  So, at 10, should the younger child be held to the same standards as the 16 year old.  No. They should be the same standards that should have been set for the 16 year old when she was 10. 

This is where it gets sticky.  Because I was not there when the 16 year old was 10.  So, MY (and I emphasize MY, because although we have similar ideas, D & I are different parents, and therefore have different standards) 10 year old standards were not exercised on the 16 year old when she was 10.  Therefore, shit. 

And then, I come to work.  Again, shit.  This is where the whole professional workplace, professional standard comes into play.  Is it a natural human behavior to try and place blame?  It seems that this is the first thing coming from anyone when a problem is brought to the table.  All of these people, I love working with, and really love socializing with them, so don't get me wrong, this is not a bitch session.  I guess, I just noticed today that the problem is brought to the table, blame is assigned, no one has any positive feedback or ideas for correction, and we all move on to the next task...we'll have a meeting about the problem later. I did feel for a few minutes, anger.  Then, pity.  Followed by, well if you know the process inside and out and don't have any positive ideas on how to fix it, how the hell do you expect others without your knowledge to fix it.  I then felt a bit like a condesending bitch.  And then I also, moved on. 

Fast Forward to my online Chat with "Simon" the Dish Network representative, who I am fairly certain did not reside in America.  Not that this makes a difference in the quality of service I expect, but it was funny that he did not understand what I was talking about, thru most of the conversation.  Not so much funny, as unprofessional.  He was quoting from the instruction manual.  I know that a lot goes into these instruction manuals, I really do.  And I do enjoy reading them when I get new items, mainly so I don't wreck them.  But, the fact that he was quoting took away the personal experience.  And the fact that my question had nothing to do with the functionality of the machine, well nevermind.  Customer Service is a personal experience.  If there is not a smile on your face, you can tell on the other side of the phone.  As such, if you do not know what you are talking about, it shows in the online help chat window.

So, I guess I have high standards.  And I will forever, that's how I roll.

You Can't Hide Cookies From a Fat Girl

2 things are on my mind today:
Cookies
I'm fat

I think each may be a direct result of the other, but who am I to point fingers.

For the last few months, I have been using myfitnesspal.com to track my calorie intake and my exercise and such.  Well, lets just say I have been slacking.  And really, I haven't lost weight or gone overboard or anything; it is really just a tool to keep me accountable to myself.  It's really actually been great.  You can imput your weight and measurements and there are tons of message boards to communicate with others who are trying to be healthier. 

I went to weigh in today, my Tuesday thing.  Not too far after the weekend to keep me accountable, but still early enough in the week where I haven't screwed up too much yet.  And guess what...I gained.  Not only just gained.  I gained 7.8 pounds!!!  7.8 POUNDS!!!

Maybe it was the Monster cookies (that Deron seriously tried to hide from me, really, you can't hide cookies from a fat girl.  I found them.  And I ate all but 3.  And then put them back.)  Maybe it was all the alcohol this weekend.  Maybe I ate too much meat.  Meat has tons of fat you know.  I don't know what it was. 

But at the same time, I do know what it was.  It was me making poor choices.  Bottom Line...I did that to myself.  So whatta ya gonna do abot it? Well, I'm not sure.  I like food.  I don't like exercise.  I'm doomed. 

I think I will try to start the Insanity program again tonight.  Or at least get on the treadmill.  We'll see. 

Dwayne

Knock Knock
Who's there?
Dwayne
Dwayne Who?
Dwayne the bathtub I'm dwonding. 

This is one of my favorite knock knock jokes of all time, and also how I feel today. 

With the party this weekend, a full time job,committee member, full time mother, full time housekeeper, chef, chauffer, loan officer, nursemaid, and every other hat that I wear weighing heavily on my head this day....it has been a day.  In fact, it was so much that day, that I went to Burger King for lunch,  because I wanted something MY WAY!  No one says no at BK. 

The day from hell started out like this.  4:20 am - KV starts barking.  I am assuming at the cats, but can't be certain.  She gets over it and shuts up.  BUT, she woke up Simba in the process, so guess what we get to do...oh yes, eat, and scamper for our poo spot... all before the sun comes up!!  It was wonderful. 
I did get to go back to bed for a wee bit, which was very nice and I did thouroughly enjoy. 
5:15 comes around and out of bed we roll.  For some reason, the whole first part of my morning is a blur to me.  I can only remember a few things.  I think because they set the tone:
*child rolled eyes at me when asked to do housework
*email from a fellow human reprimanding me about my slacker ways
*email from another fellow human reprimanding me about my job
*conversation with people who want my money
And the list goes on and on, and this is all before 8am. 

So, needless to say, I arrived at this day in full on Bitch Mode.  Maybe I should invest in a fun hat to wear on days like this, just to forewarn people before they try to talk to me.

Here's the deal, I realize that it is just a party and everyone coming loves me anyways so they do not care that my house looks like piglets live in it.  However, I do.  It's gross. 
We have 3 dogs.  1 which could be sold as a stuffing factory. 
We also have children who do not know the meaning of "Pick Up After Yourself"; because they know that their mother does, in fact, work there. 
And we are still trying to find a place for all our stuff.  We did just move into the house not that long ago.  The good thing about this party is that it has forced us to complete a lot of projects that we would have otherwise neglected. 
And I do know that everything will come together.  It always does. 
I did find a groomer to see my Old Girl tomorrow night and get her spiffed up.  Get a couple little bows in her hair, she's gonna look like a beauty queen. 
It rained today, so God was on our side filling the pool.  Last night, D estimated that it would take approximately 30 more hours of fill time.  This is difficult since we can only run the hose for 4 hours at a time or risk draining the well.  And in the evenings, it is pretty much a no-go with clothes washer, showers, etc using water also.  So, Thank You God, please send more rain.
It's supposed to be cooler tonight so I can finish up the outside stuff.  I still have a bush to remove, fencing to put up, a few plants to go in and lots of cedar chips to scatter. 
It's coming together, just like it should. 
AND, my boss is super awesome and let me sneak in a half vacation day Friday afternoon even though there will be no one else here.
Whoo Sah

As far as people reprimanding me.  I would like to just say, take a look in the mirror.  When I can answer your email about how much I suck with legitmate reasons as to why I suck.  And those reasons are because I am missing information from you (ie. you suck), maybe that is 1email you might want to let sit in your drafts folder for a little longer before hitting send. 

And to the people who want my money.  Let me claify that this is not directly my debt.  It is in my name, yes. And they got my money.  They should.  I have worked way too hard the last few years repairing my credit to let something like this drag me down again.  The frustrating part is that it was not my debt. My only hope is that these folks who are responsible, step up and be responsible.  Let's cross our fingers, I really hope that we can work it out and still remain friendly. 

So, even though today started out pretty shitty, it's turned out alright.  I am sure it was the Burger King for lunch, or the healthy excrement I left behind as a result, but either way, I am going to say Thank You to The King.  And Dwayne, cause that always makes me giggle.

When do YOU do the dishes?

This is a touchy subject in my house and I am hoping that someone reading this might be able to offer some insight.  I realize this might sound like a trivial question; however, it has become quite the topic of conversation in my house.

At our old house, I always tried to run the dishwasher at night.  I read somewhere that it saves on water and electricity if you run the dishwasher when no other appliances are working (ie, at night).  So, this is the habit that I have gotten into.  In the morning, I would go to the kitchen and unload the dishwasher as I would pack my lunch for the current day.  Any remaining dishes that had gotten stuck in the sink would then be transferred to the dishwasher.  This was a great system. 

At our new house, I have tried to keep the same routine.  It is so much easier to unload in the morning and have a place for the dirty dishes to go when they are brought to the kitchen.  Which brings me to another question...Is it rocket science to put the dirty dishes directly into the dishwasher?  Just curious.  Anyways, the dishes pile up in my sink all day long, not put into the empty dishwasher, but piled up in the sink.  When I get home from work and start dinner, since I am in the kitchen, I load the dishwasher at the same time.  There will undoubtedly be "extra" dishes leftover once it is ready for a run.  So, these dishes, and the dishes that are used to snack all night are then left in the sink.  Again, dishes left in the sink.  Before I go to bed, I will start the dishwasher and run it overnight. 

So, this is where the problem arises - at the old house, the kitchen was on the first floor and our bedroom was on the second.  In the new house, our bedroom is off the kitchen.  Hear the problem?

I understand that there is only a certain amount of effort that I put into being quiet when I unload the dishes in the morning.  I also understand that most of the time, I am the only human awake.  So, yes, this makes me the Big Bad Wolf in this story.  And that's ok.  I do the majority of the housework, so it gets done on my terms and in my own way.  That is ok.  Since I am pretty anal, it's just better this way. 

As I am the Big Bad Wolf, let's call my family the 3 Little Piggies.  (Oh, I am already watching tomorrows topic write itself in my brain!!)  Anyways, when I, the BBW put the dishes away in the morning, my 3LP are under the impression that it is deliberately to awaken them.  The "banging of the dishes" as this routine is called, is causing quite a stir.  But they need to get put away, right?  That would be the logical choice, to put the clean dishes away where the clean dishes go, right?  However, remember that I live with the 3LP. 

So my question is, what happens when my perfectly good system is disrupting the sleep cycle of my 3LP?  At what point do I just say "Screw It" and quit using the dishwasher?  With our elderly dishwasher and the spit like pressure inside, it might just be easier and more cost-effective (since many of our dishes will take a few spins thru the cycles before they make it back home) to just wash them by hand.  But if you know me, you know my slogan, "If it can't go in the dishwasher, it can't go in my house."  so, really, this is not my favorite choice.  We live by easy. 

What else could we do?  I really, really, really don't want to run the dishwasher during the day, especially in the summer, when the air conditioning is already making my electric meter spin itself off the side of the house.  Do I get it ready and hit the button as I am heading out to work?  And put them away while I make dinner?  Do I still run it at night, just not put them away?  Do I run it right after dinner and put them away before bed?  And what do I do with all the "extras" that don't fit, since we have to use a different plate / cup / bowl  for every different thing we eat or drink?  Or do I just say screw it and beat the dishwasher with a sledgehammer.  In which case, I will need to invest in a small portion of the Amazon rainforest to supply my disposible dish needs.   

I know that the easy solution would be to engage the 3LP and make them help out.  However, did you forget the part where I said I'm anal.  I don't like when they put stuff away, cause then I can't find it.   And I really, really don't like when they load the dishwasher.  They did not read the manual, so they do not know the most effective way of loading.  This makes sense to me.  So, how do I let them get their beauty sleep, mostly just the brickhouse piggie, while I still keep up somewhat on the housework?   And I need solutions that do not involve me involving the 3LP.  That is not a road I want to go down at this time!

To Do, To Do, To Do, To-Do, To-Do, To-Do, To-Do (sung to the tune of Pink Panther

As the last official weekend before the big Hoop-La on Saturday, our To-Do list was quite large.  In fact it seemed a bit overwhelming, and to be completely honest, it still does.  Here is a small taste of how my weekend went down. 

This is my pitiful vegetable garden.  As of Friday night.  Got a few things in, but still so much to do.  This will be a test to see how well things grow here.  I don't think there is enough sunlight.  Deron does.  So, if we have produce, he wins.  If we don't, I win.  Simple Logic. 

For some reason, I can not upload my "after" pic of the garden.  But I will tell you that it now contains:
8 tomato plants
6 yellow peppers
6 red peppers
2 green peppers
2 Jalepeno peppers

1 habenero pepper

Radishes
Green Beans
Cucumbers
Zuchinni
and most importantly...pickles.
And a wonderfully clever little froggie ornament from my Gram.  I am hoping this will bring me luck. 

Garden - check

I even took a little extra time to prune the bushes and trees that are providing an awful lot of shade to my front garden.  Let's hope this helps.  If not, hey at least I can get under them with the mower now!  I wish I would have taken "before" photos of these trees, it is like night and day in the difference!!  2 full yard cart loads worth of dead, dangly, nasty branched removed.  I am sure these bushes feel like whole new women!!

Next item on the list - Finish Putting in fence posts for pasture:

Let me just tell you how much I am not a fan of the "Earth Auger".  Somehow I got roped into this task because "you have more weight to put into it"...ie, Your fat ass will hold the auger down better.  In case you are not familiar with an "Earth Auger", it is very similar to an Ice Auger.  Same concept.  One digs holes in the ice, the other in the earth.  This would seem to be a wonderful invention, especially in a case like ours where there are 85 fence post holes to be dug.  The bad thing about the EA is that it shakes, like a beast!  It shakes so hard that it actually took us 4 seperate occasions of going out to dig holes because the shaking is so hard on the rest of our body.  And, turns out, we have an abnormally large amount of clay in our yard.  Clay = hard to dig thru; therefore, Clay = severe shaking on the EA, Clay = Bad.

There are 2 boy horses waiting to come live at our house, and in order for that to happen, we need to finish up their living quarters.  So far, the fence posts are in.  Next up, a shelter, and of course the fencing between the posts.  But for now, this looks good to me!

In the above photo, you can also see the finished product of Item #3: finish up the lower driveway.  Deron decided that it needed to be widened and extended.  So, it was.  And it looks great!!

Item # 4 on the list  - well the photo was intended to show "Mow Lawn"; however, Simba snuck in as I was snapping the photo and added Item #5 - so this is a 2 for 1:

Items 4 & 5 - check and check.  Both will need to be repeated before the party of course, but at least for now, check and check.

Next up - Item #6 - Cats vs. Dyer Vent - this is an ongoing saga at my house.  The kittens have figured out how to get inside the house now, thru the dryer vent.  We thought we had outsmarted them...stick a cup in the vent, then they can only get in so far.  Ha ha ha, jokes on you...cup also does not allow dryer to properly vent.  Kittens score another point.  Until Now!!  Ha Ha Ha little stinkers!!  Try and get thru this one!!

There are 2 more jobs that are at half completion phase right now, awaiting professional assistance.

For 1, the pool.  Oh, the pool.  It came with the house.  "Won't it be great to have a pool" we said when we looked at the house.  Lazy summer afternoons floating in our backyard, kids parties, adult parties, all the good things that come with having a pool fill our heads and we are excited. 

This is what the pool looks like:

 

Yeah, doesn't so much look like a relaxing Sunday Afternoon, does it.  No, gross!!  Well, the good news is, we got the old nasty sludge / algae / frog / wasp / tadpole infested water out.  And the old liner out.  And the new liner in.  So it looks like a million bucks now.  This is the point where we will halt and await professional help to release the wrinkles.  Apparently this is the most important step in installing a new pool liner.  To remove all the wrinkles.  Wrinkles will create pockets and ridges that encourage algae to grow.  As you can see, we need no encouragement. 

Next item awaiting completion: Power wash the deck.  Not just wash, Power Wash.  Yes, there is a difference:  Look at this nasty...

You can see part of the finished product in the pool photo.  But the deck around the pool will need to be redone before the stain/ water protectant goes down as all the sludge and gross stuff from the pool was gently washed over the deck before making it to the ground below.  Still doesn't look as bad as it did before; however, waiting until the pool is done, and will hit it again.  This nasty pool will be filled, treated, and covered, before I finish up that deck. 

We even had some time Sunday afternoon for a graduation party.  Congrats to Deron's cousin Jeremy Jacobs!  Had a great time, ate food, listened to some pretty awesome musicians, and got to see some pretty wonderful folks. 

All in all, I would say a pretty productive weekend.  Now onto the rest of the list...

Shopping Gone a'Ry

Yesterday, I get home from work and as I am pulling in the garage, Addie is running outside already.  "Mom, dj kfdshafhsd jkhahkla hngjk a" and this random rambling went on for about 3 minutes straight, ending with "can I go to Reagan's house?".  To which I respond, "What?"  She goes back over the important details and still ends with "can I go now?". 

As I watch her ride away on her bike, I am suddenly hit with the realization that my baby, is no longer a baby.  And I am sad. 

It makes me feel better to garden.  It is decided that this will help me process the fact of life that we all grow up, and someday, my baby will have babies, oy vey!! So I get out all of my new seeds and new tools and everything in the garage I can find and drop it off at my new garden site on my way inside to change. 

Walking into the house, I am greeted by our 3 dogs, who are terribly starved for attention since no one loves them.  They immediately attach themselves to my knees and follow me relentlessly into the kitchen so I can at least set down my lunch bag and purse to properly greet them.  They have decided that we need to go outside, so we go.  In the front door and out the back door, with my 2 boys and 1 old girl in tow. 

Guess what happens outside this time?  Mariah gets home, and kindly reminds me that we need to go shopping for her interview at school tomorrow.  She needs a 'nice' outfit.  Oh crap.  Of course I forgot that we needed to do this.  And of course we have already put it off to the very last minute and there is no chance of me saying, can we go tomorrow.  So we gather the pups and put them away to be on our merry way.

As we are driving, we are talking, of course, and although Ry is not my biological baby, she is, for all intents and purposes, my baby.  Cause that's how I love her.  And I am struck again, with the same "OMG Kids Grow Up" stick.  Right in the freaking face.  Who is this woman sitting next to me?  Logical, Charming, Witty beyond belief, where the hell did she come from, and how the hell did she get into my car!!

We have a great time shopping, and she calls me old, and we get dinner and go home.  A good time was had by all, and wouldn't you know it, I won't miss the season finale of Ultimate Fighter. 

After we eat, I am so kindly reminded that Adeline also needs supplies for school tomorrow.  Mind you, it is now almost 8:30pm. 

So, off to Walmart we go.  Me in my pissy attitude, and Addie in her jean shorts.  We spend some time chatting on the way there.  And by chatting, I mean me bitching about how we need to be more responsible and yadda, yadda, yadda.  We have this conversation all the way to Walmart. 

On the way home, I try to apologize for being a bitch, and a bad mom.  She tells me, "Never go to that Hardee's.  Amy went there one time and there was a bite out of her burger!"  Instantly, I turn right around back into a bitch mode, hmmmm, I wonder why.  Could it be because I am trying to apologize and she is completely ignoring me??  So, here I go again.  She stops me mid-sentence and says, "Mom, I'm over it." 

Again, here is that stick.  Beating me, relentlessly, in the face.  She is 10.  She is also Spirited, Whimsical, and Smarter than I think I will ever be.  I shut up.  And let the stick beat me. 

She talks all the way home.  And I listen.  And the stick is hitting me still, beating me, really freaking hard.  It's all I can do to not cry.  I look at her as we pull back in the garage and she says, cause she knows the look, "Oh Jeez Mom!" and gets out and goes inside, leaving me with my thoughts.

Deron says it's because I'm turning 30 this year.  I don't think so.  I don't know what I think.  I do know that I think I don't want my babies to keep growing up, at least not so fast.  And I also know that I never did get that gardening done.

Kittens in the dryer....interesting concept!

So, if you've been on my facebook, you see that we have added 2 baby boys to our zoo.  The intention is to rid our yard of the moles, chipmunks, squirrels, etc that are corrupting our otherwise peaceful existence.  So far, they are a couple of pussys (pun definately intended).  They are people lovers.  The girls do not help with this, they are out there every day loving on these kittens, they have even affectionately named them John and Presley.  John Kitty and Presley Kitty. 
Anyways, the story goes like this....I am up at the crack of dawn every day anyways with our lovely Simba Dog who thinks that when the sun comes up, it is time to eat, which is always followed by a wonderfully long scamper around the yard to find the perfect spot to poo.  So, after the dog chores are complete, I climb back into bed to savor any remaining sleep that is left to be had.  When suddenly....meow, meow.  I say, "Honey, do you hear that?"  He says, "Uh-Huh".  I say, "Sounds like they are close, kinda wierd that we can hear them on this side of the house."  He says, "Sounds like they are being murdered, you better check it out". 
And it does sound like they are being murdered.  Desperate cries of Meow have now filled our bedroom.  So, I do what any good mom does and go outside to investigate.  I'll be damned if those kitties didn't climb into our dryer vent.  And get themselves stuck in there.  The first kitty, I am not sure of his name, we will assume it was John.  Well, John has crawled in forward, as any good kitty would do.  And now has to navigate his way out....backwards.  It was actually quite comical watching this take place.  They knew I was there, when they heard my voice calling for them, the Meow's became frantic, as in, "OMG, Help Us We Are Trapped In Here And Will Probably Die If You Don't Save Us!!"  So, John Kitty is in the process of backing himself out, onto my hands, since the dryer vent is about 2 feet off the ground and I would hate to see him fall out of the side of my house, when suddenly, I see another paw poking out.  Both Presley and John Kitty are trying to exit the same hole...at the same time....from 2 different directions.  This is where it got really funny! 
As soon as John Kitty has been removed to safety, Presley Kitty still needs to come out.  And he has somehow gotten himself behind the tube thingy that goes to the dryer.  I am elbow deep in dryer lint trying to retrieve this kitten who is screaming bloody murder when all of a sudden, he smacks my hand.  I withdraw, and Presley Kitty pokes his teeny tiny head out of the hole, sticks out his front legs and waits.  He sat there and looked at me and cried as if to say, "I'm here, now get me."  And he waited, did not move, until I took him and pulled him gently out of the dryer vent. 
Before I go back inside to try this whole sleeping again thing, I move the front gate to the position to lock them in the yard, with no access to this hole.  Everything seems fine right?
Wrong.  As I leave to go to work (with no extra sleep, by the way), these stinker-faces have found their way under the gate and are again trying to hoist each other into the dryer vent!!!  Literally, I caught them, one standing on the other, trying to reach this hole. 
I figure food is the answer here (as it is the answer to everything) and bring them a little snack to the middle of the yard and mention that we may want to block that hole off today.  We will have to see how this worked out when I get home.

But what I really can't understand, is why on earth these kittens WANT to be in the dryer vent.  It's warm in there, yes.  However, it is also warm outside.  It is warm in their house.  It is warm pretty much everywhere.  So next reason, it smells good.  Really, I think to myself, is this a legitmate reason?  But maybe it is.  The dryer vent smells like the kids probably.  They know that the kids love them and play with them and feed them.  So follow the scent of the kids and they shall be rescued from the torture of the yard and forever be loved in the arms of the lovely girl heroes. 



Or, they are just curious.  Which is most likely the correct answer.  No matter what, those little boys are lucky they are cute. 









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Boy Kittys

 


John Kitty

 











Presley Kitty