Category Archives: crazy

Goodbye, October

Still alive over here, but barely treading water. Hope to dedicate some time to writing in the near future, but my reality right now is exactly this:

*I have no idea of the origins of this image, as it came via a forwarded email with no attribution so I can’t take the credit. But I sure as hell think whoever she/he was, they had me in mind.

Tired of Seeing Jul 7

Just stopping by to assure the breathlessly waiting public that I am, in fact, still alive. A combination of computer ennui, fall-semester-insanity and related follies have kept me from substantive posting. But hey, I got the site redesign started so…hey…that’s something, right? RIGHT?

So, how about a 1 minute family update to keep us all engaged? Ready, set, GO:

Little genius started kindergarten on August 1st. After some heinous mental/emotional breakdowns (on my part), her launch seems to be fairly successful so far. And wouldn’t you know it, the hippie school called YESTERDAY to offer us a spot. Sigh.

My brains are burnt out on work craziness, summer hell temperatures, and the hunt for some sidebar contract work to supplement our income. Right now, I live for the occasional Antiques Roadshow episode and/or even rarer late afternoon nap.

FF is suffering through a bout of bronchitis, courtesy of the little genius bringing home a cold bug from school within the first 2 weeks of the semester. Awesome.

Well, that’s about it for the 1 minute update. MORE SOON!

The Difference Between a Villain and a Super-Villain

As explained by the awesomely clever Megamind:

So apparently no good deed goes unpunished, because as you will shortly see, despite the best of intentions I (inadvertently) discovered my inner super-villain.

Cue the other night, at that magical time known as “impending bedtime for all cranky little geniuses”, whereupon I informed my dear child that it was time to get in the bath. However, at that particular moment, her father was still occupying the master bathroom, which is usually where the little genius takes her bath because the tub is larger and deeper than hers. At that point, frazzled after a long day of pretending to be a beaver mother/gaseous horse/lonely rooster/hungry penguin, I suggested she go ahead and use the smaller tub in the hopes that we could MOVE ALONG WITH BEDTIME ALREADY.

Fortunately, she was amenable and got settled in her bath, whereupon she rediscovered a long-neglected basket of bath toys, including a handful of soft plastic foam alphabet letters and numbers which stick to wet tub walls. Being an avid pre-reading little genius, she of course wanted to Build! Some! Words!  I figured the appropriate parental response would be to nurture and encourage each baby step of her literary infancy, so I improvised a game around creating rhyming words by substituting consonants around a central vowel.

However, I quickly realized a flaw in my plan…namely: many of the alphabet letters had been lost over time and we were depressingly short on vowels. So I told her that I had a solution to the problem, and went out to retrieve my handy scissors. Upon returning, I tried to ham it up by telling her that I was Dr. Vowel, and that I had come to solve her vowel problems! She saw the scissors and began whimpering a little (that’s my nervous kid!) but I theatrically told her to relax! and trust Dr. Vowel!  I then grabbed one of the extraneous foam numerals, #7 to be exact, and carefully converted it to an “i”.  She looked up at me with her huge tremulous blue eyes, and then crumpled into a heap of wailing, heartbroken humanity.

“Mom! (sob) you RUINED my (sob) number 7! You shouldn’t have done (sob) that!” She was still sad, even after I demonstrated the “L”‘s amazing ability to go topsy-turvy and stand in for the dearly departed #7.

Talk about self-induced guilt.

And of course, she nailed the coffin shut when getting ready for bed and solemnly asked me “Mom, do you think maybe tomorrow we could go to the store and buy me a new number 7?”

Since relating this sad story to Uncle Bubba, he has taken to calling me Dr. Vowel  with an evil lilt to it. Thanks bro.

Bedbugs, Brain Collapse, & Birthdays

Long time, no type.

Mainly, I’ve been riding the wave of gleeful post-homework life and spending very little computer time doing anything that requires significant cognitive processing. Not to mention that the last few weeks at work have been tremendously busy, and insanely stressful what with top-down administrative reorganizations, severe budget cuts, and the like. So needless to say, I haven’t been in much of a bloggy frame of mind.

However, I feel the need to issue a report on our grand vacation in early June; a whirlwind trip that started with my #1 niece’s high school graduation and ended with a crazy 5-day stint in…..you guessed it…..Las Vegas. The Vegas leg of the trip was a long-awaited family celebratory extravaganza to ring in a host of decade-centric birthdays (ahem, yes, I wasn’t the only one with a milestone this year.) One of my nephews, my brother, and my dear hubby all hit “decade” birthdays between mid April and mid June. So naturally we all felt the need to hoop it up in sin city.

But before I get ahead of myself too far, let me reel back a bit and describe the first segment of the trip. My dear eldest niece, so lovely in body and spirit, was graduating with honors from a tremendously rigorous International Baccalaureate-affiliated school the first weekend of June. I was very excited to attend, particularly to hear her speak at the graduation ceremony. However, seeing as said ceremony was scheduled to begin quite early in the morning, at roughly a 2-hour drive from our house, we opted to drive up the Friday before and meet up with GMom to share a hotel room.

Considering that we also had to plan ahead/pack for the Vegas trip, get the pets settled, load the car, feed the kid, and a million other things after an already-long day of work, we didn’t get out of town until almost 8pm, which put our arrival into a rather late-ish timeframe. After unloading our overnight gear and securing a late night snack courtesy of the only open business in the area — Circle K — I started prepping the little genius for bed. I left her in the hotel bathroom to marinate in the shower for a few moments while I went to unpack her jammies and get the bed ready. Upon reaching for a pillow, what did I see but a tiny little bug on the pillow!

Now, not that I travel all that much, but you’d have to live in a deep cave anymore these days not to be aware of ye olde modern hotel bedbug epidemic. Being a bonafide bug-o-phobe already, of course my mind leapt to the possibility of bedbugs, although the little specimen was very tiny. I asked FF and Uncle Bubba (also sharing the room) to give it an eyeball, and in the course of examining that and other pillows, they located a much larger and more suspicious looking critter, which we caught in a plastic cup. At that point, with frantic smartphone image Googling underway, we felt rather alarmed and certain that we hit the unlucky jackpot of a bedbug-infested room.

And honestly, the front desk wasn’t all that much help…they offered to move us to a different room, but that wasn’t very reassuring considering that all of us had horrific images of bringing home our very own bedbug buddies to our respective domiciles, never to be pest-free again. This was particularly unsettling to FF and I, considering that a few years ago we suffered through an epic, almost yearlong flea war at our old crappy apartment. And believe me, we tried everything, to no avail. Moving out WAS the final solution.  So needless to say, we are pretty particularly picky when it comes to bug issues.

So our troops did a quick huddle and we decided to relocate to another hotel (by this time nearly 1am), yet unfortunately the only affordable place reasonably nearby was a 30 minute drive away. Ugh. However, despite our collective exhaustion, this seemed a better option than potentially offering ourselves up as blood donors to the native fauna. The little genius was taking everything in stride pretty well, despite some confusion and tiredness. We repacked our overnight gear and shuffled back down to the van.  Unfortunately however, during the baggage and kid-loading insanity, we managed to lock a) the kid b) all our stuff and c) the keys, snugly in the van.

Oh shit.

So yes, friends and neighbors, we stood outside a bedbug-ridden hotel in a sleepy small hamlet at 1am shouting instructions through a closed window to our frantically crying daughter on how to escape her snug, safe, 5-point carseat harness with the child-resistant latch so that she could unlock the van for us. Totally not one of my proudest moments. Fortunately the little genius is a trooper and she calmed down and persevered enough to get us out of the fiasco. After that, we hit the highway and about an hour later we all collapsed into an exhausted slumber.

So the management did call and talk to Gmom the next day (she had made the reservation) and were properly apologetic and all that crap, issuing refunds and free night coupons ad nauseam. And a few days after that, they emailed a copy of their pest company report, predictably denying any bedbug issues but admitting the presence of some “carpet beetles”. Well, I appreciate them sharing the report and all but I gotta say that I’m still not convinced and I don’t think they actually examined the critter we captured and showed to the front desk staff.

SO, needless to say the next morning came very early and as for my little family pod, we reluctantly decided to skip the main ceremony and let the little genius continue to get some much-needed rest. We did attend the post-ceremony graduation party and it was a lot of fun, particularly when my niece “unwrapped” a very exciting present: a car! K thought that was just about the coolest and most exciting thing she’d ever heard of, and I’m pretty sure she will not forget it, and thus expectantly hold it over her parents’ heads until her own high school graduation. Sigh.

So with that dramatic report out of the way, I’m happy to say that the Vegas phase of the trip was tons of fun and very smooth sailing with no buggy or incompetent parenting episodes. We bowled, we saw movies, we gambled, we swam, we played a lot of cards in the sumptuous top-floor suite that K2 & family occupied, and generally a great time was had by all. The young guys (uncle bubba, my #1 nephew and #2 nephew) camped out in the 2nd suite bedroom and turned it into an X-box blazin’, Dr. Pepper guzzling, stinky man cave. They loved it.

FOUR LAYERS!

The guys went to see Cirque’s new Elvis show one night, and the next night the girls went to see Menopause: The Musical. Which was, um, quite an experience and has given me a slightly worried perspective on my future hormonal event horizon. (Is it too early to already be experiencing the whole brain collapse thing? ’cause lately….) Seriously though, the show was quite a laugh and a lot of fun to see with Gmom and Aunt D (K2′s mom).

Speaking of Gmom, she brought some serious magic to the table and managed to somehow make an amazingly elaborate cake in a hotel mini-kitchen for us birthday folks! Totally awesome. (and delicious!)

All in all, a trip (and birthday) to remember!

So Much for Weekly Posts

Or alternately titled Not Gone, but Probably Forgotten.

Anyway, due to ongoing time constraints, this post is relegated to a pathetic “I’m still alive” three minute update, and a commitment in writing to get back on track blogwise in the coming weeks. Now, on to the good stuff.

  • The powers that be at my graduate program have decided to LET ME OUT! I got notification last night (late last night, otherwise I probably would have gone out for celebratory bar-hopping…) that my applied project received a PASS, which right now to me feels exactly like a parole order from prison. I am not DONE with the semester yet; I still have two weeks of zombie-like sociology coursework to complete, but all the hard stuff is behind me.
  • After some recent serious brain-frying cogitation, I decided for a variety of reasons not to walk in the graduation ceremony. I still feel vaguely guilty about this decision even though ultimately I’m the only one who might conceivably have any future regret about it. Honestly, I skipped my undergrad ceremony too and never thought about it twice, so this really isn’t a big deal. The accomplishment remains.
  • …HOWEVER, the “now what?” interrogations are just starting. And the fact that I don’t really have any specific answers right now makes this more than a touch irritating; not towards the inquiring parties, but rather more inwardly-focused. I’ve been so utterly driven to finish over the last whatever semesters that the means haven’t begun to connect to the ends yet, in my mind.  Oh shit.
  • I should take this moment to thank Björn, ABBA, Meryl Streep, Amanda Seyfried and all their buddies for getting me through many a difficult homework night, most especially (repetitively) in recent weeks. Without the focusing force of Pierce Brosnan’s eye-twitchy singing performances, I might never have graduated.
  • It’s official; I have joined the 30 club. I have a lot of thoughts about this, and have started writing a naval-gazing reflective post. I know you are excited, so stay tuned.
  • A few days ago, I broke my cardinal rule about not trimming my daughter’s hair myself. I could not stand her shaggy-dog look anymore; had no time to make a trip to Supercuts; and she wouldn’t let me otherwise constrain it with clips, bands, bows, ties, clasps, barrettes, or hats. The results aren’t terrible, but they aren’t fashion-mag cover material either. I solemnly swear I will take my poor abused child to a proper salon to get further tidied up before her big upcoming dance recital.
  • We have infected her entertainment life with Fern Gully. Anyone of a Certain Age remembers this movie with some amount of amusement and horror for its absurd stench of the 90s. Naturally, my daughter loves it, and spends a great deal of time now pretending to be, in fact, a forest fairy.
  • Speaking of the little genius, guess what? She is going to be graduating too! And it makes me want to cry! Oh wait, I probably WILL cry on the big day. And we still have no firm answer on which school she’ll be attending in the fall yet. Sigh.
  • And for a final thought, all she (desperately) wants from the Easter Bunny this year is a Live! Butterfly! Garden! Ummm, ok, bug-phobic child. And thank you, TV infomercials.
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