I don't even know where to begin.
For those of you who know about all of the animal tragedies in this house, you're not going to be surprised by the end of this story at all. Disturbed, maybe, but not surprised. For those of you who don't know about Wally, Fez, the koi fish that were floating, and various other wild animals that have launched themselves into our egress windows on a straight shot to twitchy hell, please feel free to read previous blogs about the death and destruction that occurs around here.
So where to start?
We have gone through perhaps 6-7 Beta fish. But as far as Morgan is concerned, she's always had just the ONE. Luckily, she never pays attention to her fish, and the little plastic tank that has served as its (plural) residence was so covered in stickers that she couldn't really see it, so every time a fish would die, I'd go get a new one and switch out the old with the new before she was ever the wiser! Hey, it was painful enough to have to explain the whole Wally and Fez thing to her (going to live with God and baby Jesus, batteries running out), and even then, she never really SAW death. She never saw the bodies, lifeless.
And then tonight happened because, for the gazillionth time, I'm not winning parent of the year any time soon.
The girls were playing nicely in Avery's room with the 8-10 purses they made me drag down from the top of the closet where I had hid them (not well enough, apparently). They were good to go, and I knew that Dan was watching Big Brother in his office, and I had already seen the episode. But it was a good one, a veto competition to rock the ages, a duel of this season's annoying "showmance" couple, and there was puke involved. So I wanted to watch it again, with Dan. We sat in his office for maybe 30 minutes. The girls were quietly playing (which yes, should have been my first clue that disaster was occurring, but you know that you do it too, sometimes....you know they're up to no good, but it's just so darn quiet, YOU DON'T CARE!!!!)
After the vomiting veto competition, I opened the office door to go check on the kids, just as they were coming out of Morgan's room. I didn't even hear them open Avery's door and close Morgan's. And I was immediately faced with the question that no parent wants to hear: "Mommy, wanna see something???!!!"
In my head: NO! What did you do?!?!?!
Me:Sure.
Morgan: Well, we dumped Avery's fish into my fish's container so they can play!
Pause.
Side note.
Let's remember that these are not pretty goldfish who will "play" nicely in the metaphorical sandbox. These are Beta fish and they'll fight to the death on sight. Awesome.
Me: Oh my gosh, girls! No!!!!! These fish will fight with each other! You know you're not allowed to touch the fish!
And I spastically carried the little tanks to the bathroom to dump the one fish back into the other tank, and I realized, um..........they weren't looking too healthy.
And I'll admit this - we have been out of fish food for awhile. The dogs managed to find and eat two containers of it, and I've been meaning to buy more. But Beta fish are known for being pretty easy to care for, so I didn't think too much about it. In hindsight, perhaps that was a neglectfully bad idea. Bad mommy.
But, yeah, they were sort of floating sideways, gasping, dazed, obviously on the verge of a little piscine death, and I began to wonder if they had even fought at all.
As I tried to wash out the dirty water and hopefully revive the fish, Avery was hanging on to my arm, wanting to play with her fish:
"Can I play with it in the sink?"
NO!
"Can I hold it?"
NO!
"Can I pet it?"
NOOOOOOOO!!!!!! GO AWAY!!!!!!!!
Morgan was crying in her room because she knew she was in trouble, although she wasn't completely sure as to why. She just knew she wasn't supposed to touch the fish. She was sobbing. Screaming. Crying. Loudly.
Then the real terror started - Morgan asking questions. (Avery could care less).
"Mommy, what's wrong with the fish? Will they be okay?"
Me: Well, Morgan, they aren't doing so well. Their little bodies aren't good.
Morgan: Are they...DYING?!?!??!?!
Pause:
Yes, she SORT OF knows what death is. Let's not forget that Morgan has figured out that when she's older, she'll move away from me, which doesn't make her happy. She wants to move in NEXT TO me, and bring Deagan with her. And when she told the little neighbor girl this, the girl told Morgan that Deagan will be DEAD by then...well, you can imagine the tears and anxiety that accompanied that scenario. I had to assure Morgan that she could take Deagy, and when she asked how old he was and I said 4, she said, "oh...that's not old at all". No, baby. No, he's not old at all. You can have Deagy when you move next door, and I'm going to go tell your stupid little friend that there isn't a Santa Claus.
Me: Yes, they are.
Morgan: Can we get new ones?
Me: No, honey. Not right now. Let's just deal with this first.
Morgan: But what happens when they stop working?
Me: Well, their little bodies may not work anymore, but their little fishy thoughts and little fishy personalities go to a very special fishy place where they can swim and swim and be happy all the time.
Morgan: (crying) But I don't WANT my fish to go! I want to keep them!
Me: Aw, honey. I know. It's sad. But they'll be very happy in magical fishy land.
Morgan: (emphatically, with tears) Can we take them there? Can you, me, and Avery take them?
Me: (choking on regret) No, honey. They get there by magic. Poof. Disappear.
Morgan: (cries. more.)
Pause:
So after a lot of hugs and a promise that she could have an icee, she calmed down. I got Avery into bed, and went back to check on Morgan.
Me: Are you alright now, hon?
Morgan: Yeah. But Mommy, I have to tell you a truth that might make you mad.
Me: (inside my head. F*%#)
Me: Well, Morgan, I'd prefer that you just tell me the truth rather than keep it from me.
Morgan: Well, me and Avery, we, like, took the fish out of their cages and played with them, and, like, Avery held her in her hands and it JUMPED out and we LOST it, but then we FOUND it! HEEHEEHEE! And mine (holds her finger in a pinch position), I held it like this and it wiggled so funny!
Me: (inside horrified!) Okay, Morgan, see this isn't good at all.
Pause:
Earlier today, we had JUST had a discussion about how fish breathe water and people breathe air - they were watching a cartoon about fish and they wanted to know. I even asked Morgan what would happen if we breathed water, and she said "we'll die" (yes, extreme) so I know she gets that end of it. Anyway, I asked her how fish feel breathing air if they're supposed to breathe water. Her response? "They'll die". And in that moment I realized that I might have completely traumatized my baby girl. My empathetic, sensitive, wanna please and care for everything baby girl. Like I've said before - DEFINITELY NOT winning parent of the year.
So I proceeded to explain how playing with the fish was not a good idea. She understood.
Morgan: Can I see what my fish is doing?
Me: (shit).
Morgan: Mommy, I want to see her.
Me: okay, honey (shit, shit).
So we went to see Rainbow #7
Morgan: (crying now) Mommy, I love her so much. See the stickers I put on there? The hearts? They...mean...I...LOVE....HER!!!!!
And at this point I'm crying, too. My baby sees death and I think I'm gonna be more traumatized than she is! I didn't want her to see this or know this. I never wanted her to have to feel sadness or pain or guilt or suffering or anxiety or loneliness or....anything other than joy. WTF?!?!?! Is that so difficult??!?!?!?!?! UGH! My heart is bleeding and aching for her sorrow. And she's probably up in her room right now thinking nothing about it, blissfully being 5 and watching Horseland as her happy little soul drifts off to la-la land while my 39 year old insane mom brain will continue to stew over this all night long and have vivid nightmares about little fish who are slowly, desperately, angrily gasping for their last breaths of air, floating listlessly in a sideways position, gills pulsing as hard as they can to hold onto life for as long as they can, and blaming ME for their misfortune, and all I want to do is flush them NOW so they aren't up there just dying, dying, dying. Just die already so you're out of your misery and out of my life. But they float there, taunting me. Staring at me. Awkwardly sinking and floating and wilting...then staring at me some more when I dare to go up and look to see if they're truly DEAD dead yet. Fish eyes are pretty creepy when you look at them up close, and these four fishy eyes, dull with impending death, are staring straight into my soul, cursing me for my inadequacies.
So I'm sorry little Avery's fish who never had a name other than "Fishy". And I'm sorry Rainbow #7 about neglecting you and letting my kids manhandle you to death. May you float in peace when I flush you both down the drain tonight so I can tell my kids that you magically disappeared.
Oh...Morgan? When you are older and possibly reading all of this, please know that when I was maybe 5-7, I took my goldfish out of its bowl one Saturday morning and dried it off, thinking I was helping it. It, too, died.
So, my love, you're not the only one. Like mama like baby. :)
*******************************************************************
Morning update:
I woke up and gradually remembered that I had some fish to flush before the girls woke up. So I begrudgingly trudged up the stairs, and when I reached their final destination, I noticed Rainbow #7 STILL ALIVE!!!!! I mean, if you consider rolling on its side, glazed over eyes, barely moving, obviously on its last fins "alive". But it was alive, nonetheless. So I found myself in quite the conundrum. To flush or not to flush? Could I really flush a little fish that was sort of still glub glubbing, aware of its inability to function? Would that actually just be putting it out of its misery? What if I kept it around and tried to nurse it back to health? But I did tell Morgan that they would magically disappear and go to happy fishy land, so I have to get rid of the fish somehow. Avery's fish? Yeah, totally dead. That thing never had a name, let alone a chance with Avery as its owner. So that one was an easy dump in the toilet. Rainbow #7 however? I bumped the tank a little bit to see what would happen, and the thing really didn't even react - it just sort of got thrown around by the water. So I figured it only had another hour or so. (But that's what I thought last night!!!). I regretfully scooped it out of the tank and put it in the toilet, immediately wishing I could take it back! But stupid Rainbow just went all the way down and back into the farthest nether-regions of the porcelain tomb, so the decision, at that point, was pretty much made. So I had to conquer the last portion of this murderous deed - the flush. Hesitant, paranoid, karma-fearing, I reached in. Waited. Waited. Pondered. Took a deep breath. Flushed....
MOMMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (From right next to me at the top of her little Avery lungs)
I damn near jumped out of my skin, my heart skipped two beats (maybe three), and I broke out in a cold sweat. Did she SEE what I just did? Did she catch me in the middle of a most malicious and malignant murder? Oh, the horror!!!!!
MOMMY! I WOKE UP EARLY!!!!
Yes, yes you did, baby. Let's go, get out, nothing to see here, let's go downstairs, move it!!!!
I don't think she saw. And frankly, because she's kind of a little sociopath, I don't think she'd care.
So bye, bye fishies. Bye, bye sanity.
Hello insane asylum.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
Thursday, August 29, 2013
The Flies are the Lords...The Sequel AKA "The Usual Suspects"
You have GOT to be kidding me...
It's possible that my fly dilemma can get any worse? Really? For real?
Yup.
And it's all my fault.
I left a bag of rinsed off red grapes in the sink to dry. Apparently too long. Because we are now completely infested with...
FRUIT FLIES!
They literally STALK their prey. Whether it be the grapes, a cup of juice, a glass of wine, or the fabulously criminal apple cider-in-a-wine bottle-with-a-funnel-trap that I made, here's their typical Modus Operandi:
circle
disappear
dart
circle
dip
twirl
tease
land and walk closer
lift off and circle some more
(this takes about ten minutes)
then, they LAND on their prize.
But let's backtrack a little bit. Pre-trap, I really just thought they'd go away. No can do, little buggers. Adult flies can lay 500 eggs at a time, and apparently they really like to reproduce. Because all of a sudden we went from a few to thousands!!!! Everywhere! You move, they alight and swirl around. You try clapping your hands and squashing them, you look like you either have turrets or schizophrenia. YOU know they're there, but no one else sees them. Psycho, maybe?! Yeah. They'll do that to you.
(Note: I'm sitting at the island right now, clapping at flies. I see them in my peripheral vision. I clap really fast. And POOF. Nothing. Like Verbal Kint says in one of my favorite movies, "The Usual Suspects":
"After that my guess is that you will never hear from him again. The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he did not exist. And like that... he is gone."
Yeah, they're that for real.
So last night, with thousands of little itty bitty tiny twerps dancing around in the kitchen, a scary thought occurred to me. Where are they when I'm sleeping? Up my nose? In my ears? My mouth?!?!?!?!! NOOOOOOO!!
I tried spraying them with 409. No go.
Tried whacking at them with wet paper towels.
Tried waiting until they landed and then whacking with wet paper towels.
Tried windex.
Tried wasp spray (bad idea)
Tried soapy water in a dish
Went online.
Made the trap previously mentioned. Watched them circle, swarm, go in, and DIE!!!!!! YES!!!!!
But not all of them. Sure, plenty. But not all. Do you remember the part where they lay up to 500 eggs? Well, they've hatched and are here right now.
I would include a picture, but my phone is acting up and doesn't like to send them right now. So just picture a big wine bottle with apple cider vinegar in it and a little funnel with a disgusting amount of bugs in it. I dumped it out and started anew. But they're still all around me right now.
So I am literally sitting here WITH MY VACUUM CLEANER, turning it on every minute or so to dart at the air with the greatest of ease. Picture it. Sitting at the island, kids running around in the background playing horsie and kitty, dogs barking out the front window, and me typing, stopping every now and then to CLAP at them or turn on the vacuum and SUCK THE SHIT OUTTA THESE LITTLE BRATS! I wonder how it feels to be sucked into a ginormous vacuum?But really, there are enough still stalking me to make me feel like I should probably call Orkin sometime soon. Because all I need are the little infesters to find my juicy boogers and lay their eggs there.
I guess I'm not sleeping tonight.
Gonna perch myself on the sofa with my trusty Hoover and go to war.
Party on, Wayne.
P.S. I walked away from my wine glass and forgot to cover it. Five minutes, max. Came back and it was littered with them! At least 25-30 INSIDE the glass. Yay for Hoover, he's my pal!
Ugh.
It's possible that my fly dilemma can get any worse? Really? For real?
Yup.
And it's all my fault.
I left a bag of rinsed off red grapes in the sink to dry. Apparently too long. Because we are now completely infested with...
FRUIT FLIES!
They literally STALK their prey. Whether it be the grapes, a cup of juice, a glass of wine, or the fabulously criminal apple cider-in-a-wine bottle-with-a-funnel-trap that I made, here's their typical Modus Operandi:
circle
disappear
dart
circle
dip
twirl
tease
land and walk closer
lift off and circle some more
(this takes about ten minutes)
then, they LAND on their prize.
But let's backtrack a little bit. Pre-trap, I really just thought they'd go away. No can do, little buggers. Adult flies can lay 500 eggs at a time, and apparently they really like to reproduce. Because all of a sudden we went from a few to thousands!!!! Everywhere! You move, they alight and swirl around. You try clapping your hands and squashing them, you look like you either have turrets or schizophrenia. YOU know they're there, but no one else sees them. Psycho, maybe?! Yeah. They'll do that to you.
(Note: I'm sitting at the island right now, clapping at flies. I see them in my peripheral vision. I clap really fast. And POOF. Nothing. Like Verbal Kint says in one of my favorite movies, "The Usual Suspects":
"After that my guess is that you will never hear from him again. The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he did not exist. And like that... he is gone."
Yeah, they're that for real.
So last night, with thousands of little itty bitty tiny twerps dancing around in the kitchen, a scary thought occurred to me. Where are they when I'm sleeping? Up my nose? In my ears? My mouth?!?!?!?!! NOOOOOOO!!
I tried spraying them with 409. No go.
Tried whacking at them with wet paper towels.
Tried waiting until they landed and then whacking with wet paper towels.
Tried windex.
Tried wasp spray (bad idea)
Tried soapy water in a dish
Went online.
Made the trap previously mentioned. Watched them circle, swarm, go in, and DIE!!!!!! YES!!!!!
But not all of them. Sure, plenty. But not all. Do you remember the part where they lay up to 500 eggs? Well, they've hatched and are here right now.
I would include a picture, but my phone is acting up and doesn't like to send them right now. So just picture a big wine bottle with apple cider vinegar in it and a little funnel with a disgusting amount of bugs in it. I dumped it out and started anew. But they're still all around me right now.
So I am literally sitting here WITH MY VACUUM CLEANER, turning it on every minute or so to dart at the air with the greatest of ease. Picture it. Sitting at the island, kids running around in the background playing horsie and kitty, dogs barking out the front window, and me typing, stopping every now and then to CLAP at them or turn on the vacuum and SUCK THE SHIT OUTTA THESE LITTLE BRATS! I wonder how it feels to be sucked into a ginormous vacuum?But really, there are enough still stalking me to make me feel like I should probably call Orkin sometime soon. Because all I need are the little infesters to find my juicy boogers and lay their eggs there.
I guess I'm not sleeping tonight.
Gonna perch myself on the sofa with my trusty Hoover and go to war.
Party on, Wayne.
P.S. I walked away from my wine glass and forgot to cover it. Five minutes, max. Came back and it was littered with them! At least 25-30 INSIDE the glass. Yay for Hoover, he's my pal!
Ugh.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Funny Videos of Avery Being "Avery"
First, some dizzy spinning!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?
Then, cracking herself up in the car!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?
Then, cracking herself up in the car!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?
Friday, August 2, 2013
Girls at Dance Class
http://www.youtube.com/watch?
They are the super awkward ones who dance to the beat of their own drummers. They are adorably uncoordinated and goofy!
They are the super awkward ones who dance to the beat of their own drummers. They are adorably uncoordinated and goofy!
A "Normal" Day
Sure, they're typically filled with messes, tantrums, slamming doors, attitudes, but there are also some really cute moments in a day! I just like to focus on the bad stuff because it's funnier in hindsight!
So...here's Avery after a 45 minute long tantrum at Home Depot - we didn't let her get a $10.00 green metal pinwheel. COME ON!!!! $10?!?!?! For a pinwheel?!?!?! Stupid Home Depot. I had to take her back to the car while Morgan and Dan finished up the shopping, and trust me, there were tons of sobs, tears, boogers, hugs, and hyperventilating. Then she passed out.
Here?! Yeah, she's not really passed out at all. Faker!
Her hair is up and cute!
When Morgan knows I'm getting to the end of my rope, she helps out even more. Here she is feeding her "little baby" and making sure that the water goes down!
And then they made a "car" together
MOMMY! GO AWAY! (okay, fine!)
And what fun would a day be without a pseudo puppet show?! Thanks cardboard box and lunch bag!
And finally, the trampoline!!!! However, the other day the girls started to bounce, and a whole freaking swarm of wasps came storming out from underneath the tramp! GIRLS! RUN!!!!!!!! They questioned me at first, because, let's face it, why wouldn't they? But as I hysterically flailed my arms and vocally freaked out, they must have realized that something was seriously wrong, because they seemed to get the point and they fled. Thankfully, no one was hurt! Phew!!!
I went back out there at dusk, armed with a can of liquid poison, and gleefully sent those buggers to their buggy little death. HA!
So...here's Avery after a 45 minute long tantrum at Home Depot - we didn't let her get a $10.00 green metal pinwheel. COME ON!!!! $10?!?!?! For a pinwheel?!?!?! Stupid Home Depot. I had to take her back to the car while Morgan and Dan finished up the shopping, and trust me, there were tons of sobs, tears, boogers, hugs, and hyperventilating. Then she passed out.
Here?! Yeah, she's not really passed out at all. Faker!
Her hair is up and cute!
When Morgan knows I'm getting to the end of my rope, she helps out even more. Here she is feeding her "little baby" and making sure that the water goes down!
And then they made a "car" together
MOMMY! GO AWAY! (okay, fine!)
And what fun would a day be without a pseudo puppet show?! Thanks cardboard box and lunch bag!
And finally, the trampoline!!!! However, the other day the girls started to bounce, and a whole freaking swarm of wasps came storming out from underneath the tramp! GIRLS! RUN!!!!!!!! They questioned me at first, because, let's face it, why wouldn't they? But as I hysterically flailed my arms and vocally freaked out, they must have realized that something was seriously wrong, because they seemed to get the point and they fled. Thankfully, no one was hurt! Phew!!!
I went back out there at dusk, armed with a can of liquid poison, and gleefully sent those buggers to their buggy little death. HA!
Things You Wouldn't Expect (Or Maybe You Would. I Don't Know).
While I've pretty much decided to "expect the unexpected" (thanks, Big Brother: The TV Show), I must say that there are still moments that I find wonderfully adorable, strange, quirky, or blog worthy. So of course I take pictures of it all in the hopes that my family who live far, far away will have a better understanding of why I would up in a looney bin, sucking my own toes and rolling around on the cement floor in an infinity pattern, my straight jacket ties dancing behind me like some rhythmic gymnastics routine gone horribly awry.
So here are some "things you wouldn't expect" around here to tickle your funny bone and solidify one more notch in my gradual ratcheting up the kooky ladder.
#1: BEST FRIENDS FOREVER (Direct quote, there. And yes, I'll be sure to show them this when they are 13/15 and freaking the Hell out on each other).
#2: Avery's hair in pig tails!!!! It's finally growing!
#3: "MOMMY! I am so mad at you and I'm not gonna take this anymore! This is ridiculous! I'm LEAVING!" (Said because I wouldn't let her look at the pictures until I was done). What's unexpected about this attitude? I laughed at her.
#4: "But I wanted to push the buttons to make it hot! Now it will taste awful!" The unexpected? I ate the soup. Too bad.
#5: A child who climbs dangerously high up on the furniture and then devilishly Evel Kneivil's her 30 lb self halfway across the family room in a blaze of glory? Yeah. That's Avery. The unexpected? She's not wearing any pants.
#6: A child (dressed to the 9's, of course) who curls up on the floor clutching a water bottle in a seemingly cranky fit of fury? Nope. It's our new "kitty" named cupcake who likes to fetch.
Cupcake sitting and waiting for me to toss the bottle. Her movements are strangely canine, but she INSISTS that she's a cat. I don't even like cats. Where did she get this game?
"Fetching" said water bottle.
TA-DA! I'm a proud, proud mommy.
#7: A child who randomly runs in and out of the kitchen like this?
And like THIS?
#8: The girls take "gummy" vitamins, and love to play with them before they eat them. So here they are on the kitchen floor (love the style, I know), getting ready to eat the gummies.
And then this happened.
And this.
#9: It's late July. And the girls aren't wearing these coats to play. It really WAS FREAKING COLD OUTSIDE! For real. That's a real fire going in the pit.
#10: 6 chairs aren't enough. To make a regulation sized fort/barn/stable/maze/obstacle course/mess, apparently we need EVERY chair in the house.
#11: Avery won't go to bed. She's figured out how to talk to the camera (me), and even after a gazillion and one trips out of her room (I gotta tell you a question, but Mommy, I need to brush my teeth, but Mommy I have to pee more, but mommy wait I have to tell ya another question, but I need more water, but I want you to lay with me a little bit, but I want a different show, but I......), she still finds more things to do to prolong the inevitable.
Here's a video of her playing with her puppy. Please notice that she's NOT SLEEPING!!!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?
#12: They actually stop moving every now and then, in the middle of the day, which is a freaking miracle! Morgan passed out at 5 and I wound up carrying her up to bed, where she stayed!
#13: Morgan loves ponies! NO WAY!!!!!!
#14: Avery created her own spa, complete with hair styling, yummy food, and a foot soak!
#15: Avery likes Brussels sprouts. Really? What WON'T this kid eat?!
#16: The girls get along! Especially when Avery is a little girl named Abby and Morgan is a big girl named Kaitlyn. Yup. They even gave me a pretend name. I'm Lillia. Just so you know.
Kaitlyn feeding Abby
#17: But when Avery is the kitty named Cupcake, she likes to eat right from the bowl.
#18: Avery can be found in small boxes/spaces/things. She's some kind of contortionist. Or maybe she just has a Freudian desire to return to the womb? I don't know. She's kooky!
Here she's the "kitty" in a box and I was supposed to be a little girl who went to the pet store to go buy a kitty and I found her. I don't know why the pillow was necessary. I think because we couldn't close her in the box all the way.
And in Syd's crate. It's the faces that make her more interesting that your typical "kid in a dog crate funny pic"
"OOOOOOOOOOOO"
"EHHHHHHHHHHHH"
So there you go. 18 of the real weird happenings around this place, and of course I'm going to document them all!
So here are some "things you wouldn't expect" around here to tickle your funny bone and solidify one more notch in my gradual ratcheting up the kooky ladder.
#1: BEST FRIENDS FOREVER (Direct quote, there. And yes, I'll be sure to show them this when they are 13/15 and freaking the Hell out on each other).
#2: Avery's hair in pig tails!!!! It's finally growing!
#3: "MOMMY! I am so mad at you and I'm not gonna take this anymore! This is ridiculous! I'm LEAVING!" (Said because I wouldn't let her look at the pictures until I was done). What's unexpected about this attitude? I laughed at her.
#4: "But I wanted to push the buttons to make it hot! Now it will taste awful!" The unexpected? I ate the soup. Too bad.
#5: A child who climbs dangerously high up on the furniture and then devilishly Evel Kneivil's her 30 lb self halfway across the family room in a blaze of glory? Yeah. That's Avery. The unexpected? She's not wearing any pants.
#6: A child (dressed to the 9's, of course) who curls up on the floor clutching a water bottle in a seemingly cranky fit of fury? Nope. It's our new "kitty" named cupcake who likes to fetch.
Cupcake sitting and waiting for me to toss the bottle. Her movements are strangely canine, but she INSISTS that she's a cat. I don't even like cats. Where did she get this game?
"Fetching" said water bottle.
TA-DA! I'm a proud, proud mommy.
#7: A child who randomly runs in and out of the kitchen like this?
And like THIS?
#8: The girls take "gummy" vitamins, and love to play with them before they eat them. So here they are on the kitchen floor (love the style, I know), getting ready to eat the gummies.
And then this happened.
And this.
#9: It's late July. And the girls aren't wearing these coats to play. It really WAS FREAKING COLD OUTSIDE! For real. That's a real fire going in the pit.
#10: 6 chairs aren't enough. To make a regulation sized fort/barn/stable/maze/obstacle course/mess, apparently we need EVERY chair in the house.
#11: Avery won't go to bed. She's figured out how to talk to the camera (me), and even after a gazillion and one trips out of her room (I gotta tell you a question, but Mommy, I need to brush my teeth, but Mommy I have to pee more, but mommy wait I have to tell ya another question, but I need more water, but I want you to lay with me a little bit, but I want a different show, but I......), she still finds more things to do to prolong the inevitable.
Here's a video of her playing with her puppy. Please notice that she's NOT SLEEPING!!!!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?
#12: They actually stop moving every now and then, in the middle of the day, which is a freaking miracle! Morgan passed out at 5 and I wound up carrying her up to bed, where she stayed!
#13: Morgan loves ponies! NO WAY!!!!!!
#14: Avery created her own spa, complete with hair styling, yummy food, and a foot soak!
#15: Avery likes Brussels sprouts. Really? What WON'T this kid eat?!
#16: The girls get along! Especially when Avery is a little girl named Abby and Morgan is a big girl named Kaitlyn. Yup. They even gave me a pretend name. I'm Lillia. Just so you know.
Kaitlyn feeding Abby
#17: But when Avery is the kitty named Cupcake, she likes to eat right from the bowl.
#18: Avery can be found in small boxes/spaces/things. She's some kind of contortionist. Or maybe she just has a Freudian desire to return to the womb? I don't know. She's kooky!
Here she's the "kitty" in a box and I was supposed to be a little girl who went to the pet store to go buy a kitty and I found her. I don't know why the pillow was necessary. I think because we couldn't close her in the box all the way.
And in Syd's crate. It's the faces that make her more interesting that your typical "kid in a dog crate funny pic"
"OOOOOOOOOOOO"
"EHHHHHHHHHHHH"
So there you go. 18 of the real weird happenings around this place, and of course I'm going to document them all!
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Brownie is DYING!!!!
Judge me if you will, but I enjoy the moments when the girls are upstairs playing in one of their rooms, especially together, because for the most part they get along and leave me alone! Ten minutes to chillax?! Yeah!!!!! A noise, you say? A crash? No, you're imagining things. Unless Morgan comes out of the room to tell me that something terrible has happened (because she's the best "rat" EVER!), I'm not moving! In fact, as I crashed on the couch, I covered myself with a blanket on the slim chance that they'd glance downstairs looking for me, and maybe be deterred by my absence.
And then?
MOMMY!!!! SOMETHING TERRIBLE HAS HAPPENED!!!!!!!
Me:
Morgan: FOR REAL, MOMMY! THIS IS HORRIBLE!
Me: (to self) Ignore it and it will go away...Ignore it and it will go away....
(In the meantime, Avery came down the stairs and asked to cuddle with me)
Me: How did you know I was here?!
Avery:
So we cuddled. And Morgan continued her tirade.
Morgan: MOMMY! Avery took the purple bracelet from Brownie (ah, yes, this explains why Avery is hiding out with me), and if Brownie doesn't have it she's gonna get SO SICK! (coughing like a horse that was coughing would probably sound). MOMMY! Are you listening to me?! Brownie IS GONNA DIE!!!!!
Me: (What? Die? How does she know that word? We never talked about it. She shouldn't know what this shit is?! Why is she telling me this?! How am I supposed to react? Are we going to have the death talk now? PANIC!!!!!!!)
Me: Avery....PLEASE give Morgan back the bracelet. We don't want Brownie to get sick.
Avery: No. (Clutching it closely to herself)
Me: PLEASE, Avery! She's freaking out! Let's just give it back to her so Brownie feels better!
Morgan: (in a scratchy horse whinny), Ahhhhhhhhh! Neigh! Snort! Owie.
Me: Avery, really, just give it back to Brownie so the horse doesn't get sick and die.
After some cajoling, Avery finally stood up to go bring this stupid bracelet back, and even as she did, Morgan was throwing a holy FIT! I had to calm her down enough to notice that Avery was standing there holding out the purple bracelet. Morgan's reaction? "Oh."
Morgan has been very dramatic lately. Here's some ensuing video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?
Like I said. 5 going on 13.
And then?
MOMMY!!!! SOMETHING TERRIBLE HAS HAPPENED!!!!!!!
Me:
Morgan: FOR REAL, MOMMY! THIS IS HORRIBLE!
Me: (to self) Ignore it and it will go away...Ignore it and it will go away....
(In the meantime, Avery came down the stairs and asked to cuddle with me)
Me: How did you know I was here?!
Avery:
So we cuddled. And Morgan continued her tirade.
Morgan: MOMMY! Avery took the purple bracelet from Brownie (ah, yes, this explains why Avery is hiding out with me), and if Brownie doesn't have it she's gonna get SO SICK! (coughing like a horse that was coughing would probably sound). MOMMY! Are you listening to me?! Brownie IS GONNA DIE!!!!!
Me: (What? Die? How does she know that word? We never talked about it. She shouldn't know what this shit is?! Why is she telling me this?! How am I supposed to react? Are we going to have the death talk now? PANIC!!!!!!!)
Me: Avery....PLEASE give Morgan back the bracelet. We don't want Brownie to get sick.
Avery: No. (Clutching it closely to herself)
Me: PLEASE, Avery! She's freaking out! Let's just give it back to her so Brownie feels better!
Morgan: (in a scratchy horse whinny), Ahhhhhhhhh! Neigh! Snort! Owie.
Me: Avery, really, just give it back to Brownie so the horse doesn't get sick and die.
After some cajoling, Avery finally stood up to go bring this stupid bracelet back, and even as she did, Morgan was throwing a holy FIT! I had to calm her down enough to notice that Avery was standing there holding out the purple bracelet. Morgan's reaction? "Oh."
Morgan has been very dramatic lately. Here's some ensuing video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?
Like I said. 5 going on 13.
Friday, July 26, 2013
The Flies are the Lords
Well, of this "island", at least!
The little buggers are everywhere in this house, and while I admit that I'm not the cleanest spoon in the drawer (which reminds me, I should probably clean out the silverware drawer. It's filthy.), there is an awe inspiring number of zippy buzzing beasts who, I think, enjoy torturing us.
So let's try to get at the heart of this matter. WHERE ARE THEY COMING FROM?!
Zone 1: The front door. I have absolutely no idea why, but opening the front door triggers a swirling chain reaction. Like they're sitting there, waiting to pounce. Going in or out of this door requires speed and agility, and since Avery walks as slow as a rock talks, and Savannah's arthritis, curmudgeonly demeanor in general, and long-ass toenails that I keep forgetting to trim make it damn near impossible for her to make the two step ascent into the house? Well, we just try to avoid this door altogether. Yesterday, the little blondes next door rang the doorbell, and I pretended like I didn't hear it (the flies are only part of the reason why). Working for me in this scenario is that our doorbell is busted and only makes a faint fart of a dong, and Morgan didn't hear it because she was upstairs in her room, so I only had to pretend that Avery was crazy for hearing something. "Mommy, did you hear that noise?" "No baby, what noise? There wasn't a noise." "But I heard something. It was a ding." "Huh? Did you say something? Oohhhhhh, look, Avery! Something bright and shiny over there!" Her flea-like attention span partnered up with me and we were able to avoid a buggy disaster.
Zone 2: The garage door. Two Corona Light/Miller Light/Mike's Lemonade/Occasional wine bottle filled recycling bins and a 40 gallon trash can (the kind with the lid that serves no purpose) probably have something to do with the flies in the garage. No surprise there. This zone doesn't really bother me because it's "normal."
Zone 3: The kitchen door. This one gets a lot of traffic thanks to the four dogs, two kids, one servant (me), running in and out all day long on nice days. I try to keep the door closed in between entrances and exits, but the creatures in my house are fickle, indecisive little poops, so the second I let Cooper out and she realizes I'm not going along, she "WOOFS" to come back in. Or we go out and Savannah realizes, after we shut the door behind us, that this is a good chance to pee, so she'll start barking her turrets bark until I open the back door...again. Or Avery goes out to feed the fish, and because Morgan is engrossed in another episode of "The Backyardigans" I don't want to bother her to see if she wants to go out, too. Then she magically realizes that Avery gets to feed the fish and she DOESN'T which ISN'T FAIR, MOMMY! and then the drama queen who is 5 going on 13 hyperventilates and runs up to her room and slams the door. I failed that one, huh? So the bottom line is that if we were to do the math and tally up the total number of minutes the door is open in one day, it might be something like 2.35 hours. And that is 2.34 hours too many, and 2.34 hours those freaking flies have to bum rush my house. The wasps? The bees? The birds? The fleas? Yeah, no. Just the flies.
So that's how they get in (I think those are the only entrance points. I HOPE those are the only entrance points).
And you know what's disturbing? Some of them are small little newborns, and others are big fat suckers. I find myself pondering a frightening question - are they procreating in my house? Are there little maggoty larvae cooking up nice and big and fat and plump somewhere where I eat and sleep? Granted, I eat and sleep in a house whose carpet is 95% covered in pee and poo stains, human and canine, and NO, I'm not exaggerating (a carpet cleaning service came out to give me an estimate and after the guy dragged a little metal prong thingy all over the carpets, obnoxiously pinging every time it detected pee, which was constantly, I was basically told that he couldn't help me and that I should just get new carpets). But ay, here's the rub - Let's talk about the piano room. The one right off the kitchen where it's only a piano room because there's a piano in it. It should be called the Dropped My Popsicle Again and Didn't Tell Mommy-Let's Squish Orbeez Balls Into the Carpet-Crush up some Crackers-Drop Mac N Cheese-Have a Potty Training Accident More Than Once-Dog Urinal and Personal Potty Room. Savannah is getting older and I think she's having accidents. Sydney's pee is so small you can't tell when it happens. So it sits there, rotting. Deagan, however, knows where Sydney pees because he likes to Alpha dog pee on top of it. Savannah and Sydney both like to poo in there. Every morning. It smells in there. There's no fancy way to say it. I can smell its uriny odor from the kitchen - more so on warm days. And back to that carpet guy? He told me that when I steam clean with my amateurish 80 lb. steam cleaner, that I'm basically making the problem worse because I'm just pushing the pee all over the place, and it's never really GONE. Great. Just great. But I can't get new carpet NOW, right? This shit is just gonna keep happening! So I deal with it.
But wait...the flies! Um, yeah, they LOVE the Pee-Pee room! A no-brainer, right? Every day they are guaranteed a meal, so like sharks circling my legs in the water, I KNOW those suckers are in there waiting to bite through an artery. In fact, they like to DANCE in crazy flirty circles underneath the chandelier that hangs in there. Yes, you heard me correctly. They DANCE!!! It's a tightly wound, compact whirlwind waltz of flies; there are usually 2-5 dancing at a time. Strangely entertaining, it's also just plain old gross, so I decided to do something about it. It all started with the kitchen towels, and using them as Jack and the boys used their spear on that poor sow who took it "right up her ass" (Thanks, William Golding, for the image), I proceeded to hunt them with delirious abandonment. Well, that's how I felt about tracking these flies. They were taunting me, laughing at me with their macabre grins and zippy escape routes, alighting mockingly on my coffee mug and the kids' eggs. Yuck! Bastards! While it felt good to "sneak up" on them like a misguided "lost boy" or something, and while I occasionally connected with their shockingly well-armored little bodies, it just wasn't enough. There were always MORE flies in MORE places, and when one almost flew up my nose as I was sitting on the sofa, I said, ENOUGH!!!!!
Hence the Google search for "how to get fly paper glue out of hair."
Enough said about that.
Once the fly traps were up and running (because apparently they are incredible specimens of technological advancement), we've seen a significant decline in the amount of "fly-to-human" contact. And here's why!!!!!
Kitchen ceiling (the one that stuck in my hair)
Dropped My Popsicle Again and Didn't Tell Mommy-Let's Squish Orbeez Balls Into the Carpet-Crush up some Crackers-Drop Mac N Cheese-Have a Potty Training Accident More Than Once-Dog Urinal and Personal Potty Room:
But don't be so grossed out. I have a tendency to try to warn bugs of their ultimate demise; a visual deterrent, if you will. At school this past year, we had a bit of a fruit fly problem. As I sat at my desk, the little fruit flies would buzz around me, and I'd often find myself impulsively slapping at them, much to the entertainment of my students who probably thought I looked a little (more) nuts! And every now and then I'd connect! I'd burst a tiny little body into a bloody bump right in between my palms! But what to do with it, then? Why, wipe it on a piece of paper, circle it, draw an arrow to it and write the exclamation, "Die, Bugs, Die!" as a warning to all of its measly friends! Mwaaaaa haaaaaa haaaaaa haaaa! Yes, the dead bug wall filled up over the next month or so, and it sure was a morton-ish decorated spotting of disgusting death. It was AMAZING!!!! But, it didn't act as the warning that I thought it would, and my fly paper strips at home don't keep the flies out of the house, but at least I get to gaze at them everyday and think, "WINNING!"
Yay, me. Ralph, Simon, and Piggy would be proud.
Oh, and one more literary reference that I can't resist?
"Fucking Flies"
- Richard Thinbill, of Tim O'Brien's novel, In the Lake of the Woods
Sorry, Mom. They're O'Brien's words.
The little buggers are everywhere in this house, and while I admit that I'm not the cleanest spoon in the drawer (which reminds me, I should probably clean out the silverware drawer. It's filthy.), there is an awe inspiring number of zippy buzzing beasts who, I think, enjoy torturing us.
So let's try to get at the heart of this matter. WHERE ARE THEY COMING FROM?!
Zone 1: The front door. I have absolutely no idea why, but opening the front door triggers a swirling chain reaction. Like they're sitting there, waiting to pounce. Going in or out of this door requires speed and agility, and since Avery walks as slow as a rock talks, and Savannah's arthritis, curmudgeonly demeanor in general, and long-ass toenails that I keep forgetting to trim make it damn near impossible for her to make the two step ascent into the house? Well, we just try to avoid this door altogether. Yesterday, the little blondes next door rang the doorbell, and I pretended like I didn't hear it (the flies are only part of the reason why). Working for me in this scenario is that our doorbell is busted and only makes a faint fart of a dong, and Morgan didn't hear it because she was upstairs in her room, so I only had to pretend that Avery was crazy for hearing something. "Mommy, did you hear that noise?" "No baby, what noise? There wasn't a noise." "But I heard something. It was a ding." "Huh? Did you say something? Oohhhhhh, look, Avery! Something bright and shiny over there!" Her flea-like attention span partnered up with me and we were able to avoid a buggy disaster.
Zone 2: The garage door. Two Corona Light/Miller Light/Mike's Lemonade/Occasional wine bottle filled recycling bins and a 40 gallon trash can (the kind with the lid that serves no purpose) probably have something to do with the flies in the garage. No surprise there. This zone doesn't really bother me because it's "normal."
Zone 3: The kitchen door. This one gets a lot of traffic thanks to the four dogs, two kids, one servant (me), running in and out all day long on nice days. I try to keep the door closed in between entrances and exits, but the creatures in my house are fickle, indecisive little poops, so the second I let Cooper out and she realizes I'm not going along, she "WOOFS" to come back in. Or we go out and Savannah realizes, after we shut the door behind us, that this is a good chance to pee, so she'll start barking her turrets bark until I open the back door...again. Or Avery goes out to feed the fish, and because Morgan is engrossed in another episode of "The Backyardigans" I don't want to bother her to see if she wants to go out, too. Then she magically realizes that Avery gets to feed the fish and she DOESN'T which ISN'T FAIR, MOMMY! and then the drama queen who is 5 going on 13 hyperventilates and runs up to her room and slams the door. I failed that one, huh? So the bottom line is that if we were to do the math and tally up the total number of minutes the door is open in one day, it might be something like 2.35 hours. And that is 2.34 hours too many, and 2.34 hours those freaking flies have to bum rush my house. The wasps? The bees? The birds? The fleas? Yeah, no. Just the flies.
So that's how they get in (I think those are the only entrance points. I HOPE those are the only entrance points).
And you know what's disturbing? Some of them are small little newborns, and others are big fat suckers. I find myself pondering a frightening question - are they procreating in my house? Are there little maggoty larvae cooking up nice and big and fat and plump somewhere where I eat and sleep? Granted, I eat and sleep in a house whose carpet is 95% covered in pee and poo stains, human and canine, and NO, I'm not exaggerating (a carpet cleaning service came out to give me an estimate and after the guy dragged a little metal prong thingy all over the carpets, obnoxiously pinging every time it detected pee, which was constantly, I was basically told that he couldn't help me and that I should just get new carpets). But ay, here's the rub - Let's talk about the piano room. The one right off the kitchen where it's only a piano room because there's a piano in it. It should be called the Dropped My Popsicle Again and Didn't Tell Mommy-Let's Squish Orbeez Balls Into the Carpet-Crush up some Crackers-Drop Mac N Cheese-Have a Potty Training Accident More Than Once-Dog Urinal and Personal Potty Room. Savannah is getting older and I think she's having accidents. Sydney's pee is so small you can't tell when it happens. So it sits there, rotting. Deagan, however, knows where Sydney pees because he likes to Alpha dog pee on top of it. Savannah and Sydney both like to poo in there. Every morning. It smells in there. There's no fancy way to say it. I can smell its uriny odor from the kitchen - more so on warm days. And back to that carpet guy? He told me that when I steam clean with my amateurish 80 lb. steam cleaner, that I'm basically making the problem worse because I'm just pushing the pee all over the place, and it's never really GONE. Great. Just great. But I can't get new carpet NOW, right? This shit is just gonna keep happening! So I deal with it.
But wait...the flies! Um, yeah, they LOVE the Pee-Pee room! A no-brainer, right? Every day they are guaranteed a meal, so like sharks circling my legs in the water, I KNOW those suckers are in there waiting to bite through an artery. In fact, they like to DANCE in crazy flirty circles underneath the chandelier that hangs in there. Yes, you heard me correctly. They DANCE!!! It's a tightly wound, compact whirlwind waltz of flies; there are usually 2-5 dancing at a time. Strangely entertaining, it's also just plain old gross, so I decided to do something about it. It all started with the kitchen towels, and using them as Jack and the boys used their spear on that poor sow who took it "right up her ass" (Thanks, William Golding, for the image), I proceeded to hunt them with delirious abandonment. Well, that's how I felt about tracking these flies. They were taunting me, laughing at me with their macabre grins and zippy escape routes, alighting mockingly on my coffee mug and the kids' eggs. Yuck! Bastards! While it felt good to "sneak up" on them like a misguided "lost boy" or something, and while I occasionally connected with their shockingly well-armored little bodies, it just wasn't enough. There were always MORE flies in MORE places, and when one almost flew up my nose as I was sitting on the sofa, I said, ENOUGH!!!!!
Hence the Google search for "how to get fly paper glue out of hair."
Enough said about that.
Once the fly traps were up and running (because apparently they are incredible specimens of technological advancement), we've seen a significant decline in the amount of "fly-to-human" contact. And here's why!!!!!
Kitchen ceiling (the one that stuck in my hair)
Dropped My Popsicle Again and Didn't Tell Mommy-Let's Squish Orbeez Balls Into the Carpet-Crush up some Crackers-Drop Mac N Cheese-Have a Potty Training Accident More Than Once-Dog Urinal and Personal Potty Room:
Closer look at it...
But don't be so grossed out. I have a tendency to try to warn bugs of their ultimate demise; a visual deterrent, if you will. At school this past year, we had a bit of a fruit fly problem. As I sat at my desk, the little fruit flies would buzz around me, and I'd often find myself impulsively slapping at them, much to the entertainment of my students who probably thought I looked a little (more) nuts! And every now and then I'd connect! I'd burst a tiny little body into a bloody bump right in between my palms! But what to do with it, then? Why, wipe it on a piece of paper, circle it, draw an arrow to it and write the exclamation, "Die, Bugs, Die!" as a warning to all of its measly friends! Mwaaaaa haaaaaa haaaaaa haaaa! Yes, the dead bug wall filled up over the next month or so, and it sure was a morton-ish decorated spotting of disgusting death. It was AMAZING!!!! But, it didn't act as the warning that I thought it would, and my fly paper strips at home don't keep the flies out of the house, but at least I get to gaze at them everyday and think, "WINNING!"
Yay, me. Ralph, Simon, and Piggy would be proud.
Oh, and one more literary reference that I can't resist?
"Fucking Flies"
- Richard Thinbill, of Tim O'Brien's novel, In the Lake of the Woods
Sorry, Mom. They're O'Brien's words.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Sometimes I Wonder if it's Just Me...
Am I the only one who has walked out of the front door, sat down, and cried because my kids were freaking out? Looked at a dog who was eating another dog's poop and said to myself, "eh, it's less for me to clean up?" Screamed at the top of my lungs and forbid EVERYONE from stepping foot in MY kitchen until I was DONE? Laughed at my kid who just face-planted after running ridiculously out of control downhill? Took a swig of wine out of the bottle then put it back in the fridge because I didn't feel the need to dirty another glass? Told her kid to hit the other one back?
I hope not.
So, because I'm being a neglectful mom (kids are fighting in the family room and I'm sitting at the island looking at youtube videos), I thought I'd share a few of the videos I've found that make me feel like a normal human being!
18 reasons not to have kids:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oa-mJThKZE4
Fun Fails
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0PuD5_TRbnE
AWESOME BLOG!
www.rantsfrommommyland.com
I hope not.
So, because I'm being a neglectful mom (kids are fighting in the family room and I'm sitting at the island looking at youtube videos), I thought I'd share a few of the videos I've found that make me feel like a normal human being!
18 reasons not to have kids:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oa-mJThKZE4
Fun Fails
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0PuD5_TRbnE
AWESOME BLOG!
www.rantsfrommommyland.com
Funny Stuff
Okay, I have to admit that I have some pretty funny kids who say and do some pretty funny things, but this video features a little girl and her mom who take the cake! I want to be friends with this mom. She's as messed up as I am!
http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=
I checked out this lady's blog and, not surprisingly, it's pretty freaking hysterical!
www.rantsfrommommyland.com
http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=
I checked out this lady's blog and, not surprisingly, it's pretty freaking hysterical!
www.rantsfrommommyland.com
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