Even U2 Can't Save This Spider Now

I figured I'd make a post out of what happened this morning, for those of you who are crazy enough to not have 'liked' my new Facebook page yet, and therefore did not get to hear about it yet.  Hint. 


Here is a link to my Facebook Fan Page, which you must click here to visit and 'like'.  That was a bigger hint for those of you who aren't that bright.


Here is what greeted us this morning:

Why yes, that is a spider the size of your fist.  


A friend asked me how I handled the spider.  Well, as I handle most things in life, I did it with a quiet grace. 


While screaming and yelling, I gathered our largest broom.  Then I screamed and yelled and opened our front door.  While screaming and yelling and crying, I used large sweeps to shoot him down the entry way and out our front door.  Finally, while screaming, yelling and crying I bludgeoned him to death on our front porch.  


That is where I left his giant spider-man sized corpse, because I want my husband to accidentally step on him when he comes home tonight and enjoy the sound of the crunch.  


I've enjoyed the after affects all day so far.  For instance, I sat down next to a fan and it blew one of my curls into my face, which made me scream and punch the side of my own head. 


And I bet that after reading this, you too will feel the creepy crawlies.  You're welcome.

No Dad, I Totally Was Not Driving When I Took This Picture. Yes. Yes, I Was.

This weekend's highlights included a trip to the vet.  Mosby had some....um, tummy troubles.  Let's just leave it at that for those of you who aren't currently mothers and used to constantly talking about the bathroom happenings of all living things in your home.

Mosby's not had all his vaccinations yet---wait, can I talk about pet vaccinations without people fighting?  As a mother I've learned to never talk about vaccinations lest someone fly across Gymboree and beat me with their research.  

Anyway, he has not had all of his vaccinations so he's not been socialized with other dogs.  Because of this I was unsure how sitting in the waiting room would go, but I had some idea that it would probably make me want to cry.  

When we arrived I was relieved to see the waiting area was dog free.  I relaxed and sat down. Stupid me.  Within seconds of us settling in, everyone who currently owns a dog in North Texas joined us in the waiting room.  

There were two teeny tiny chihuahuas being held by teenage girls, who undoubtedly were going to carry them around in purses at the mall for two weeks and then tire of them and drop them off at a shelter, and three large dogs.  Including a pit bull.

Mosby, who is all of 15lbs right now, started growling at them.  Not the chihuahuas, I don't think he could even see them.  But the other huge dogs he apparently thought he could take.  Mosby didn't do anything but growl and the three big dogs were very well behaved.  They looked at Mosby with pure amusement.

I said to the owner of a particularly large dog, "I guess my dog needs to learn who not to mess with."  The man replied with a charming tale about why he was there with his dog. Apparently this dog was there to have 50 stitches taken out since another dog the man owned had "tore him right up".  

Those of you who know me in real life can understand how super well I took this little story.  I stared at the guy trying to form words, then gave up.  I sat there thinking of how I could steal this dog from this ridiculous asshole until he finally left.  Somebody needs to tear him right up.

As I stewed in my anger, Mosby continued to act like a ferocious beast toward the dogs who could easily eat him, until the door opened and a couple walked out with a dog that scared the crap out of Mosby.

Mosby stopped growling, started whimpering and hid under my chair.  

Would you like to see the animal that broke Mosby?

Yes, my friends.  A basset named Blue terrified our little Mosby.

After this chilling animal came into Mosby's view, he remained scared for the rest of the vet trip.  My poor boy was the laughing stock of the waiting room, the vet techs were dying laughing behind the counter.  

On the way home he was still solemn and in need of protection.  He rode the entire way like this:

He can't get that Basset Hound out of his mind.

As we pulled into the driveway I was happy the worst was behind us.  Right as I was thinking this Mosby started making gagging noises.  

When a dog is in your car and laying his head on your shoulder, you don't really want to hear gagging noises.  So I lovingly flung Mosby out of the car and into our lawn.  You can guess the rest.

Just another fun Saturday morning.  You know, full of puppy potty problems and vomit.

Let's Chat About How You Find My Blog. You Weirdos.

Let's chat about how you are finding me.  

One of the great joys of having my blog is viewing my stats, which allows me to see the search words you are using to find my blog, and the words searched that simply brought my blog up and then led someone to click on it.

Don't panic, I don't get to see who you are, just how you get to me.  


I have to say, sometimes I am extremely weirded out by the type of things that make my blog pop up.  Other times I'm scared.  And sometimes I'm just really proud.  

Let me share with you......................*drum roll*

My Favorite Google Searches That Led You To Fond of the Silliness:

I feel this is best divided up into categories.   Also, I have changed nothing about spelling or grammar.  

Ones About Animals:

1. bird likes to lick computer screen
2. my cat came home exhausted
3. horse clap clap
4. stepped in animal poop
5. mules wankers

Ones About Pink Eye:

1. why is pink eye so funny
2. one catches pink eye

Ones About Jazz Hands:

1. jazz hands emoticon
2. jazz hands, andrews sisters
3. what is a better way to say jazz hands
4. every time i jazz hands you

Ones About Catholicism:

1. i survived catholic school
2. Catholic silliness
3. frank mccourt throwing up the body of christ in the backyard

Ones About Cameltoes:

1. innocent cameltoes
2. and now fix your camel toe say misis

Ones That Scare Me:

1. shoved a fish hook in her mouth

Ones About Andrew Bogut:

1. bogut feeling better 2011
2. andrew bogut growth spurt

Ones That Confuse Me:

1. badass pyloric stenosis
2. would people want cars that drive themselves
3. "no sense of direction" and "southern california"
4. i forced my washing machine open and now its broken
5. irate baby
6. mama facials
7. "swimming in the ocean" clap clap clap
8. terms of endearment where are my daughters pillzs
9. ben and jerry falling out

Ones About Rap:

1. comforting rap songs
2. 2011 rap songs that make you feel better
3. rap silliness

Ones Where You Are Seeking Advice or Solidarity

i am so addicted to angry birds man i love this game i had a dream my husband flirt why are wendy's napkins yellow overtiredness causing siliness signed a work email love by mistake taking a baby down a water slide i went down a waterslide can this harm baby Ones That Let Me Know You Were Looking For Me: middle finger emoticon blog So there you have it.  There are just a few of the very many strange and disturbing  ways readers have happened upon my blog. I think looking at that list we can all agree on one thing:  There are many great writers out there.  None of whom would be found by searches using words like "camel toe".   It sure makes a girl proud.

Run DMC & Snow Cones

It's been a bit since I've blogged.  During my time away so many important things have happened.  The end of an old regime in Libya, the Kardashian wedding took place, and Nora started Kindergarten.  I put those in no particular order of importance.

The kindergarten kick off began last week when I attended both a "Parent Night" and a "Meet the Teacher Shindig" on Friday night.  The second was the most exciting because there were snow cones.  The addition of the snow cones officially made it the most exciting Friday night I've encountered in awhile.

You always picture moments like this in your life and they just never are quite the way you thought they would be.

I pictured heading to my child's school and feeling very adult and motherly.  

What really happened is I drove the 5 minutes to Parent Night while listening to Run DMC's You Be Illin'. Very loudly, I might add. It's just so rare that I'm alone and NOT listening to the vacation bible school CD, Pandamania.

Once there I was once again blown away by education today.  I mentioned in this post that I was a Catholic school girl.  So I'm used to an excellent education being accompanied by leaky ceilings and peter pan collars.  

During my meeting I was told to download the local school district's app to my iPhone so I could check my daughters grades, view calendars, sports schedules and add money to her lunch account.  Um...wha?  They also mentioned they will not be sending out report cards via mail and to make sure the school has our correct email address so we will receive them.

Someday my daughter will read this and be horrified at me for thinking such technology was anything but a given.  Thus, I want to take a moment to assure Nora that I did not stand up and yell "Shazam!" while slapping my knee when they told me about the app.  So future Nora, calm down.  Also, quit rolling your eyes at me and clean your damn room.

All of this led to today, when we finally dropped our girl off for her first day of elementary school.  A lot of mixed feelings were felt, some of them made more strongly by the fact that we are still new and a bit lonely here.  It hasn't escaped me that I should be having coffee with my old friends on this day.  The ones who have known Nora from day one.

But mostly I can't believe all we've been through together in her nearly six years.  And I can't believe how lucky we are, as her parents, that we get to watch her take this new step, along with all the other new beginnings Nora will have in her life.  

Life is full of this very bittersweet kind of stuff.  Thank God, because it keeps us grounded.  You don't get this kind of reflection from trips, cars or other "things".  

Now I'm off to figure out how to make some friends here in this town.  Because this is my new beginning too, and my 11 month old and I have a lot of things to do yet before I drop her off, all fixed up in a dress and wearing a back pack three sizes to big for her body, to her first day of school.

Dead Pets On A Plane

I hate watching the dread register in the eyes of  fellow passengers on a plane, as you stumble towards them holding your children and 15 bags full of kid crap.


Last week when I was flying towards our beach vacation, I posted about this woman.  Unbelievably enough, on the way home I was again blessed with a patient and helpful stranger named Barry.  Barry did everything to help me and made the trip manageable in every way.  

Unfortunately for Barry, Nora was not able to watch her DVD player until the appropriate elevation was reached and electronics could be turned back on.  


Until that blessed moment, Nora talked Barry's face right off of her saintly head.  

It was probably about 15 minutes of time, but to poor Barry it probably felt like 150 minutes.  Barry was not the only one horrified; as I listened to Nora tell her about every aspect of our life, I cringed almost constantly.  But once Nora gets going, there is not much that can stop her.  And I was busy letting the baby pull my hair out of my head with her tiny devil fists.

Not all of it was bad, most was just harmless chatter.  But here are some of the little nuggets of fun that I overheard Nora sharing.  Or, I guess, over-sharing:

On my vacation, my papa asked me if I like beer, but I told him that beer is only for adults.  He said I could have beer.

It's useful to know here that Nora does not understand the difference between root beer and beer.

Sometimes when my mom is waiting for her pants to dry in the machine, she walks around our house without pants!


One time, my sister had an operation to fix her mouth.  The doctor told my mom and dad that Evie should never put her fingers in her mouth.  But sometimes Evie did put them in her mouth and my parents didn't do anything about it.  

One time my grandpa taught me a song, do you want to hear it?  It's about drunken sailors.  

I had a cat named Gladys, but she's dead now.  Do you have any dead pets?

I think the last one really points to the fact that Nora is going to be a master conversationalist some day.  

Although, I have to say, none of her statements made me quite as uncomfortable as when she announced the color of my underwear to the high school boy bagging our groceries at Pic N Save.  He and I both wanted to die over that one.  

But maybe I shouldn't knock it until I try her conversational techniques.  


Maybe she could teach me a thing or two about conversation? 

So, I ask....do you have any dead pets?  

Please know I'm kidding and don't tell me about your dead pets.

If Our House Was A Pasta, It Would Be Testosteroni

It is no secret that Team R is female dominated.  

My husband is the sole provider of testosterone in our home, and let's face it, I may have sucked some of that out of him with my "personality" and  "role in the family".  

Well, that all changed this week.  My husband is no longer the only one with an outie in the family!    

Introducing.....Mosby: 

He's vicious

                                           

I have another picture that best sums up what my life is like currently with the addition of this 8lb. 9oz bundle of joy:

Wish me luck y'all!  

Seat 7E On Flight 5790 Needs A New Sky Magazine

Why, hello!


I'm back from vacation.  It was a wonderful trip, but ten days at the beach sans my husband reminded me of this post.


Also, flying with a ten month old taught me there are certain situations in which you can prepare all you want, but all the planning in the world will not change the fact that your child has you completely by the cojones.  


I got on the plane and noted that I was sitting near a mom with three boys, one about my baby's age.  The woman was also traveling with her mother, who seemed to do everything, but I still worried for her and was glad I was not traveling with three boys.


Then her two older boys busied themselves with activities and the baby promptly fell asleep.  The baby slept the duration of the flight and the older boys also snoozed on and off.


Evie, on the other hand, spent most of the trip trying to climb onto my head.  When she didn't do that she slapped my face.  After the face slapping the real fun began when she arched her back and threw her head back until I put her down on the bulk head floor in front of me.  There she proceeded to try and shred the instruction manual and eat the Sky magazine.  


My thought process on this matter went like this:


30 minutes into the flight:  I will not have a child that rips apart the instruction manual leaving it crumpled for the next traveler.  I will not have a child that shreds a magazine and makes a huge mess on a flight!  Who is going to pick it up?  That's just irresponsible parenting.  This is what's wrong with the world.


90 minutes into the flight, after I had been slapped, climbed upon and otherwise tortured by my baby:  Who the hell does not know how to buckle their seat belt?  For Christ's sake, if you can't do that without reading an instruction manual you need to NOT leave your house ever, so it's fine if my baby tries to eat it.  And I'm sorry, but if we go down there will be no need to know how to exit the plane- we'll be dead.  Also, this is MY copy of Sky magazine and I'll be damned after paying exorbitant airline fees if I will not use this magazine in whatever way I wish!  Shred it, Evie, shred it!  We must teach the airline industry a lesson!


So it went for awhile.


I find that when I'm focused on feeling incredibly sorry for myself, God sends me a little sign that let's me know I need to ease up.  Sometimes I can actually feel God rolling his eyes at me.  


In this particular case the woman next to me started chatting with me.  Trying to be nice, but also feeling distracted, I gave her halfhearted answers about my girls and our trip.  I was feeling overwhelmed but knew I needed to ask her about herself and her trip.  Isn't that nice of me?  I thought so.


Until she told me her story.  She was on her way to Norfolk, not for vacation like I was- no she was meeting her husband.  He's a Marine and the two of them were attending a family meeting so she could be briefed on his upcoming deployment.  In the meeting she would be told very little, due to the nature of his job within the military, and one thing that would be covered would be how she would be contacted in the event that any "problems arose" for her husband.   She would be saying goodbye to him for 9-12 months, although as she mentioned, you never really know how long.


Oh, did I mention she's 8 months pregnant?  


She remained positive and happy.  Talking about how she needed to remain so because her husband was struggling horribly with the fact that he will miss his daughter's birth and that the baby would not know him upon his return.  The woman said she knew her husband had it worse than she did and so she would not feel sorry for herself.


Yeah.  So I gathered myself and sucked it up.  


I spent the rest of the time letting my baby claw at me and chatting with this woman who was much stronger than I could ever hope to be. 


Which is good, because she's going to need it.