mrtl

This is why he keeps lotion next to the bed.

I was jolted awake just before 4:00 this morning by mister mrtl thrashing about to remove blankets. WTH, man? People are trying to sleep here!

"You're so hot that you woke me up and made my leg itch!"

Before you start thinking that this post is heading in a porny direction, he was not angling for an early-morning booty call. ::collective DING!::

::tangent to inform audience of newest double entendre notification system::
First there was, "That's what she said!" Then there was, "So to speak." Now it's, "DING!" like a service bell. There's a service bell application I have on my iphone for this purpose. It's quite useful.
::end tangent to inform audience of newest double entendre notification system::

Mister mrtl and I have become quite allergic to each other. He makes my nose run, and I make him itchy. It never fails when we get in bed that my nose starts to run (or whistle - I HATE that sound) and his legs get itchy. (He tries to blame it on my pajamas, but I wasn't wearing any last night. I was naked. It was hot.) He gets Very Grumpy when he's itchy, and doesn't appreciate it much when I encourage him to put some lotion on. He certainly doesn't appreciate it when perfectly good sleeping is interrupted by an itchy leg.

As it was, waking up made me have to get up to blow my nose. When I returned, mister mrtl was getting too comfortable smack in the middle of the bed, making it impossible for me to lie down with my hot self and not touch him. Not that I'd mind touching him, but he had his itch and was grumpy about me being so hot.

For future reference, I really enjoy hearing how hot I am.

 

RIP Slava

March 11 would have been Slava's 13th birthday. I've asked Rack of Moms to celebrate with me (which I realize is a thinly-veiled excuse to eat cake and drink coffee, but whatever).

I just Googled "big white butthole" and found this old post is the first hit, as I had dreamed in the comments.

And if things couldn't get better, CG has graciously offered to write some chords for the song. And we shall sing in the coffee house. Maybe people will throw quarters at us.

ETA category, which I realize is a bit black-humored considering the post is about a dead kitty, but whatever.

Heartburn

I've had heartburn since Monday. I've had heartburn before, but only when I was pregnant and carrying too much weight. No, I'm not pregnant, and having weighed myself and knowing that, despite munching off of four pies over the last week, I haven't gained such a significant amount of weight to bring on the heartburn, I can only contend that this heartburn is my body's involuntary, sympathetic reaction to the horrible event that occurred earlier in the week.

A friend in Alaska lost her baby to SIDS on Monday. He was beautiful and new -- just 5 weeks old -- and even though I never had a chance to meet him, I could practically smell his fuzzy little head through the pictures on my monitor and feel his soft, chubby cheeks. He'd been planned, prepared for, long in the making, anxiously awaited and adored by this loving family. And just like that, he was gone.

It's hard to imagine being in her shoes. I remember very well those first weeks, falling in love, the hormones so strong, the presence so surreal. The crushing blow it must be conjures an old lyric, "Take my heart! I want to lose it."

The little comfort I can find from my distance is knowing that my friend is surrounded by the most incredible group of people. I know that they're going to do all they can to support this family and help them live with this pain. I'll offer my hugs from afar and make a little list of reasons why I've said that she is one of my favorite people from my stay in Alaska.

- More Cowbell!

- Extending her friendship and introducing me to her insane circle of friends. This eclectic and diverse group had all shapes and sizes, colors, backgrounds, economic statuses, sexual orientations, religions and politics. No holds were barred; there were lively debates in this tribe that could -- and did -- turn into hostile arguments, but love and mutual respect were always there and hostilities never lasted long. If this invitation hadn't have happened, none of the following would have either.

- Dorkiness: Matching t-shirts for celebrations, and occasional matching outfits with her BFF.

- Entertainment: TMI at the sex toy party. Seriously, the lady could have been a little more discreet when asking which dildo our host recommended for anal during double penetration.

- Conviction: "I sing like an ANGEL!"

- Lack of Inhibition: Best karaoke I've ever witnessed was her rendition of "My Humps," sang full out and with unrestrained (and possibly choreographed) dancing.

- Honesty: When she realized that a blog she'd been reading belonged to someone she knew, she called me to let me know.

- Restraint: She didn't throw up in my van when I was DD for her BFF's birthday celebration.

- Encouragement: Weight loss group.

- Craftiness: Fellow knitting addict.

- Emboldening: My first karaoke.

- Fabulousness: Gay bars. I frequented a gay bar a couple years out of high school. It had been too long.

- Sweetness: Seeing the love between she and her husband.

- Recommendations: Best haircuts I've ever had.

- Randiness: Alaska State Fair Lumberjack Lust

I'm sure there's more. Many happy memories here. I could go on about the various personalities in the tribe, but that would take away the spotlight.

R, I love you, girl!

Bug Said "Fuck" Today and I Totally Laughed

It's her own freeform rapping game, and tonight the lucky ending sound was "uck." It was only a matter of time, really. She said something like, "I'm a duck! I'm a duck! I'm and duck, fuck, luck, truck, kuck! HAHAHAHAHA" (laughing because she threw "nonsense" in there). Fortunately I didn't choke on my dinner.

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+: Other happy thoughts for the day: President Obama. strawberry shortcake (so not on the DNE list!), Jem's pretty pretty princess tap/ballet moves (will try to record this to post a sample of what she's learning), no more Bush (maybe I'll shave down there tonight as a sign of my appreciation of this... TMI?).

Fruit of the Day

Lots of fruity things happened today in mrtland.

Back story: Bugs in the back seat yesterday, Bug making up songs for Jem. "Do you want a song about an apple?" "Yes!" "Giant apple! Giant apple! You are giant!" "Now how about a song about a banana?" "Yeah!!" "Big banana! Big banana! Yellow, big banana!"

Today, taking turns singing songs, Jem wants multiple repeats by Bug of "Mister Sun." When it was her turn, she hollers, "Big apple! big apple! Aaaaaah!"

~*~*~*~*~

We picked up some strawberries at the store today, and they served as a dessert for the girls. One was hideously deformed.

~*~*~*~*~

Tonight, just as I sat down to start writing out this post, mister mrtl IM'd me. We ended up using the video chat (awesome!). He's been at the club drinking "a lot of beers." (He walked.) Mister mrtl usually doesn't drink "a lot" of beer, so he's quite amusing and I told him I was going to share him with you.

I keep telling him I can hear him fine, but he still insists on typing instead of talking to me. At one point he says "It's so hard to type!" and then I get "lol" as a message after a couple hundred tappity tappy keystrokes.

He can't seem to get over the noise in the hallway. Throughout the conversation there were many references to it:

People are yelling in the hallway.
They must be drunk

I hear people yelling.
They must be happy.

People are yelling.
Good thing I'm not trying to sleep.

People are still yelling in the hallway.

People are hooting and hollering.

He's also extremely impatient. Happy, but impatient. I'm glad I'm finished now so he can comment before he crashes.

Love you!

Furry Critters

Mister mrtl may be pleased to know that he missed the caterwauling of a lusty pussy this morning. Moments laters I was mortified to find the fervid feline a few feet from our back door, blissfully rolling around in a wet patch of grass, with a Tom tabby sauntering away. Our back yard is now a kitty brothel. Thank you asshole neighbors for letting them roam!

After this Cat-Ass-Trophy...

::tangent for fun with trophy generator::

::end tangent for fun with trophy generator::

...I was so perfectly, poochaliciously vulnerable you'd think that some higher power was fucking with me. As I sat in a waiting room, a man sat down across from me, putting down in front of him a laundry basket loaded with the cutest, fuzziest 3-week-old rotty-pit pups I've ever been offered to cuddle and bottle feed.

I think I just officially became a dog person.

I Cry

...at the Central Park sleigh scene in Elf. Ah, the Christmas spirit. Maybe now I'll be motivated to finish that last-minute shopping.

i am too spent from reliving my day here to come up with a clever title, and must go to bed now despite the stupid fucking yappy dog. maybe i'll think of a title tomorrow.

I had today's post all worked out in my head. It was going to contain a lot of bitching and moaning about how it sucks to be the "handy one."

::tangent for child comparison::
O.M.G. We had Bug cursing at 2 years, 7 months. Jem is closing in on 2 years, 10 months. We need to get on the ball!
::end tangent for child comparison::

You know, if I put you through the hell I endured today, then maybe you'll understand the immensity of my glee at the end.

Today I showed that I am most definitely not so handy as much as I am stubbornly incapable of admitting to failure. Mister mrtl is apparently the wiser one, knowing when NOT to start a task (as he is so bound and determined to finish what he starts come hell, high water, bursting blood vessels in his forehead, and cursing toddlers). He would sooner call a professional than start something that he's pretty sure he couldn't finish. I, on the other hand, will call in reinforcements to clean up after my failed attempts. Higher aspirations, some would call that.

It's important to mention that I was not alone today. Jem developed a fever last night and stayed home with me. Fortunately there was no more puking, but she was a grumpy little booger. Her demands must be met to exacting standards when she is well, lest her little stork kisses take on an eerie glow and she shoots fire out of her ass. It's worse when she's sick, since she wants what she wants, doesn't care if there are things she shouldn't have when sick, is fiercely independent, and tends to change her mind a lot, especially about "little" things like where the bowl is put on her little table (there NO THERE - NO! I DO IT!!) or what color spoon she's using. Fear of having a puking episode brought on by hysterical screaming over red, no purple, no red I WANT RED RED RED! I GET IT!! aaaaaah! (crumble to the floor and scene) makes me tend to indulge this quirkiness when she's sick. She demanded constant television, which I was ok with. It kept her still and quiet. However, when she got nasty and tried to hit me or told me, "Go away!" what she wanted is not accessible to her anymore and we head to the kitchen to hang out on a floor that would be easily cleaned up should she start riotous puking. Add that to trying to get some repairs done around the house, necessitating a trip to a couple stores (during which she was pretty decent - a snack helped), and you'll better understand my state of mind.

Two "small" tasks were on my list today: a leaky faucet and a flooded pool. Yes, flooded pool. Patience. Leaky faucets I have conquered before; unfortunately it wasn't until I got it pulled apart that I realized that I didn't have the right replacement washer. FAIL. Onto the pool. When our pool man winterized, he told us to try to keep the water and leaves off the cover. The cheap pump we got sucks... I mean doesn't suck... No, that's not right. It's not working well, and with the lot of rain we've had lately and the dropping of the leaves over the last couple weeks, the pool was looking pretty bad. Last night, one of the long water-filled weights holding the cover in place fell into the pool, and another was in there this morning. No more procrastinating. Today I bought a new pump. SOOOO many frustrating obstacles just getting the damned thing set up, only to end up setting it up backwards, setting it up the right way to have it start spraying water from a place that's not supposed to spray water, taking it apart to repair the leak (probably from setting it up backwards -- yes, I read the freaking directions, but I still managed to screw it up), not screwing the cover back on tightly enough (see, I even screw at screwing ::stupid AF tangent:: SO TO SPEAK ::end stupid AF tangent::), which resulted in smoke coming out of it the next time it came on and this rubber doohickey inside melting. FAIL

I'm sure I could have figured this out with the replacement rubber doohickey, but this is where I was saved by the mailman. He walked up to my back fence with his knobby knees (had to throw that in for my northern friends... yes, warm enough here today for the mailman to be wearing his knickers) and told me he had a package from Canada to sign for. He also mentioned in what I'm seeing commonly and shall refer to as the SCJATAI (South Carolina Judgmental Attempt to Acquire Information), that I must have been out there for a while because he had knocked on my front door about a half hour before and told my little one to get her mommy but she must have had better things to do and didn't come back and so he decided to try again when he was about to leave our neighborhood.

I didn't respond. He didn't know that I checked on her regularly and that it absolutely surprised me that she actually left her "Little Einsteins" video for ANY amount of time to visit him at the front door. In retrospect, I should have said something about how it probably wasn't such a good idea to leave her alone in there for so long with the fireplace going and the knives and all medications and cleaning solvents opened on the kitchen floor. Asshole.

Anyway, back to the box. The lovely Frauline sent goodies. OMG the goodies! Smarties, coffee-flavored kit kat things, clustery chockies (haven't opened them yet), MOOSE-shaped pasta, some cute pencils, and some Yoshi awesomeness. Total squeee! I ate one of the coffee-flavored things and gave Jem some Smarties because the look she gave me when she saw I was happy was not pretty. The Smarties made her happy, too, until they were all gone and I wouldn't give her anymore. Still, that five minutes? Priceless. Thanks Kranki!

Looking for Bright Sides

I think my brain has atrophied after a long day dealing with the sick (Bug), the pathetic (mister mrtl), and the crazy (Jem). Our livingroom currently smells like Bug butt. As disgusting as it is, I can't move myself to leave.

Instead of dwelling on the bad, though, I'm going to exercise my brain with a list of good stuff.

Things That I'm Thankful For Today

Mister mrtl didn't bleed all over our bed.

Bug's aim into the barf bucket was true.

DVR and 24-hour Noggin

Bug can work the remote control.

I was able to sleep a little more while Bug hung out, watched shows, and puked.

Jem didn't cut off her hair while I napped.

My sixth sense awakened me to stop Jem's attempts to cut the cheesehead.

Jem's requests at lunch for a cookie sandwich and calling my pb&j "crap" was priceless.*

Mister mrtl got professional help for his bleeding issue that may actually be effective. Dinner was blood-free, at least.

Nacho Cheese Doritos

In the midst of her tantrum at dinner, Jem didn't spill her drink.

*She had the bagel tongs and was attempting to grab the sandwich and say "clap."

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What are you thankful for today?

Ambusher

There's something really special about a friend...

...who can visit over a webcam and make me feel like she's right here where I need her.

...who will help bring levity and a positive perspective to the most dreadful of situations.

...who engages in intellectually stimulating conversation on subjects ranging from self-Brazilian waxing to politics.

...who shares the potty humor and will lick the rim of her margarita just to make me laugh.

MWAH!