I HATE SPIDERS!!!!

It was a beautiful spring afternoon when my sister called, regarding a question about her new puppy’s pedigree. She is the proud new puppy parent of a (then) 10-week old Doberman (Don Vito, or as I like to call him, “The Don”), and was interested in finding out if there were champion bloodlines in his family.

I know that both of my dogs have champions in their lineage, and I was pretty certain their pedigrees would display that. I searched through all the names of my German Shepherd’s family, from his parents to his great-great-grandparents. There were a few numbers and abbreviations here and there, but nothing that said “Ch.”, which would indicate a champion dog.

I was pretty sure my Gordon Setter’s pedigree would offer more insight. “It’s in the gun room, so I’ll have to be quiet,” I whispered over the phone to my sister. Our gun room is across the hall from my daughter’s room, and Gabriella was taking a much needed nap at that particular time. I turned the safety knob on the gun room door and walked in. Immediately, something caught my eye…

“Ewww!!” I gasped. “There’s a big nasty black spider on the ceiling!” (No matter what, everytime I enter a room, I always look up...just in case!)

“Gross,” whined LeAnne. She and I share the same cosmic fear of the nasty little eight-legged beasts. “Just don’t look at it.”

“I can’t help it,” I hissed. Brodie’s pedigree was sitting on top of an old entertainment center that Charlie converted into a bookcase and game-call display. I quickly reached for the certificate and scanned it over, all the while keeping my eye on the little unwelcome visitor. “LeAnne,” I said gravely through clenched teeth. “I think it’s following me.” Indeed, the little monster was making a beeline from the center of the ceiling toward me. It was like it was asking for trouble. Did this thing really want to mess with me? Most likely, it knew I was terrified of it and would at least get a laugh or two out of seeing me run out of the room, flailing my arms about like a sissy.

“Oh, yeah – they will chase you! People say they don’t, but they do!” I could hear LeAnne’s heart racing for me. I stood in a frozen panic, my eyes darting around the room for a weapon. For a brief second I thought, I could always shoot it off the ceiling…

“What do I do?” I whimpered.

“Spray it with something!” Now LeAnne was the brave one. I followed her orders and thankfully found a can of furniture polish sitting on a footstool nearby. I bent down and scooped it up, ignoring the fleeting thought of the spray nozzle not working correctly. Holding the can at a shaky forty-five degree angle, I sprayed the polish toward the unsuspecting little menace. The mist fell short of the ceiling by about a foot.

“Oh no! It doesn’t work,” I cried as the spider changed directions once again, speeding towards me.

“Keep trying! Throw something at it! Smack it with your shoe!” LeAnne gave a plethora of advice on how to take the maniacal little thing down, but in the end, my only weapon of choice was the furniture polish.

“What am I going to do?” I felt close to tears at that point. “I can’t reach it, and I can’t just leave it in here! It’ll find someplace to hide and I won't know where it is!”

“Give it another try,” LeAnne cheered me on. So I did. And this time, I jumped while I pressed the nozzle down. That gave the spray enough oomph to reach the spider, and it immediately lost its grip on the ceiling. Of course, I screamed.

“EWWWWWHHHHOOHOOHOO!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!”

“SSSSHHHHH!” LeAnne tried to silence me. “The kids are sleeping!” I was in no mood to care initially, but then the thought of Gabriella and Aiden being woken up by my screams after only being asleep for a half an hour began to sink in. That would not be a good thing.

Fortunately, the spider clung on to its silky butt-strand that was so dexterously attached to the ceiling, and carefully began to lower its nasty ass to the floor. Meanwhile, it threw in a couple of pysch-outs as it swung from its….uh….rope, like Tarzan, and made feeble attempts at trying to bite me. Brodie now joined me and watched the little acrobat lower its way down towards the floor.

“Get it, Brodie,” I commanded. “Kill it! GET IT!” Brodie wasn’t having it. Instead he sniffed at it and then sighed, which gave off just enough wind to propel the spider to the floor. I quickly annihilated the beast; with what, I don’t remember. Something big and heavy, I’m presuming. And I think something in the form of a few swear words poured out of my mouth, rather unexpectedly. I’m not sure. It’s all so cloudy to me now…

LeAnne gave me an ostentatious “hoo-rah” as I announced my victory. I was proud of myself for claiming my stake and taking the bad guy out. It’s not everyday a girl over-comes her fears and shows people what she’s made of. And I hope that spider saw my unwavering fortitude with all ten….or twenty…of his beady little eyes!

Cease, fire, cease!!

It's that time of year again. Everyone is burning trash and having bonfires in their yards...and their neighbors, upon seeing the plume of smoke, are calling the fire department or 911 in a panic, thinking someone's house is on fire. I think I've heard Bear Lake's siren go off at least four times this week (we only live about a mile and a half away from the hall). Not sure how many of the calls were false alarms - I'd say at least half.

Tonight, our friend Jim and his sons, Jimmy & Mike, are coming over. I decided that since they can't make it for dinner, I'd whip up some cookies for them instead. I turn on the oven to 350 and let it preheat. Now granted, we have a Caloric oven; however, it was here when we moved in 3-1/2 years ago and I couldn't tell you how long it was here before that. It is a bear to clean, and it always seems to cook off leftover drippings everytime we turn it on. Such was the case today.

Here I am, mixing away my oatmeal chocolate chip cookie batter when all of a sudden, our smoke alarm goes off. I grab a dish towel, leap in a panic over Aiden (who's sitting in his chair), and run into the hallway, fanning away before the noise wakes Gabriella up from her nap. (Naps are precious these days, as we are journeying through the terrible twos, and lack of sleep only makes the situation worse.) After repeating this scenario for the third time, I decide to open some windows and turn the ceiling fan on "suck." No sooner do I hang the dish towel back on the oven handle and return to spooning my cookie batter onto baking sheets, then I hear another alarm...only this time, it's Bear Lake's fire siren!!!!!!!!

"My GOD!" I cry out! I run out the front door, down the porch steps and out onto the lawn to survey the house. Nope...no smoke there. I run back into the house and go to the kitchen window. I slide the screen over with all my might and hang my upper body outside, craning my neck to get a look at the basement door. Ok, good...it's not the dryer. (Our dryer has been making these horrible noises - the bearings are pretty much shot, and I thought maybe it had caught on fire.) I run through the house, sniffing the air, checking electrical outlets, whatever I can think of. Nothing. I turn on the emergency scanner. False alarm - someone's burning trash again. *sigh*

Life...you gotta love it. It's always interesting.

Fargin' bored...

Ugh...just a blah day. I haven't been out of the house since Thursday for a gyno appt...like you all really needed to know that. I don't care. That's life. We all have to do it, us womens. Anyway, the short trip to Sugar Grove and back just didn't cut it for me. I was going to go grocery shopping last night, but the round of freezing rain put a halt to that. Then, I was going to try today...again, thanks, freezing rain...

Now I can't do anything with my blog (review comments, change layout) except post, apparently, so that's what I'm doing. I'm way bored.

I need some new clothes. I've been wearing the same s@#t for two years! So where do I go? My options are Wal-Mart or Fashion Bug. Yay. I couldn't be more thrilled. Wal-Mart has a pretty sad selection. I always see the normal size ladies department has pretty sundresses and flowery tank tops, cute cut offs, strappy sandals...things like that. What do us bigger women get? "Oooo, Doris - check out that moo moo! That's a nice daisy pattern, isn't it? Ooo, and look at that one with the geometric shapes! This one has horizontal stripes - I hear they're in this season! Oh, and look! They even have color coordinated orthopedic sneakers! Look over there - they're running a special on knee-highs!"

And what's up with Fashion Bug, anyway? There are two doors - one up front for the juniors/sizes 0-14. Sizes 16+: there's big letters on the right side of the building that say: "Fashion Bug PLUS" with an arrow pointing around the corner to the back of the building for that door, which I'm assuming is the service entrance. Thanks for keeping it discreet, FB. Like I can fake it anyway. Why do they have to segregate us? It's like a racist thing or something. I guess they don't want the smaller chics mingling in with us and going, "Ewww! What is she doing here??"

And bras - forget it. That's so embarrassing when you find your size and realize it might be confused with a large purse. And they ususally come in two colors - white or ivory. Then the clothes racks are so close together. You have to turn sideways and sashay through everything. Meanwhile, you're knocking clothes off the racks and bumping into things when you bend over to clean up your mess. Then the little 90-lb. cashier comes running over and goes, "Do you, like, need help or something?" So I stand up and end up bumping her back a few feet; she lands on her ass and I have to pick her up, poor thing. Now I have to apologize, "I'm so sorry, I didn't even see you. No, really, here - I'm stronger - I'll pick the rack up. Yes, and I'll hang all the clothes back up on it, too. Oh, you have a customer at your register. And will you tell that girl that thing is not a hangbag? What's the cup size on it? If it's a triple G, hang on to it for me!"

*sigh* I hate being fat. Everyone's always like, "No, you are NOT fat! Don't say that." Ok, I'm not. I just have big boobs, big arms, big legs, and a belly. But my neck is in shape, you know...so that's a good thing...

Redneck

If you've ever vacuumed your entire house using a Sear's shop vac...you might be a redneck.

Hey, at least I can say that I've never tack-welded two trailers together and called it my double-wide. Nope - that would be our ex-neighbors back in Sparty, the black sheep of the neighborhood! I'll never forget one of the first times my parents came out to that house. We had laying chickens at the time and one of them wandered down the road and into their yard. Their oldest son, brought it back over...I swear, he looked like something out of the movie 'Deliverance!' We didn't know whether to oink or thank him for rescuing our chicken. You should have seen the look on my parents' faces! There was always something fun and exciting going on back at that place. (Oh, and yes, I did vacuum my entire house with a shop vac today!)

So, I get a call from an ex-coworker today about a project I'm helping a friend with. We hang up the phone and then I decide I'd better jot down his number for future reference. I scroll through the caller ID, find his #, and begin writing down his info on our phone list which is on the fridge. Gabriella was behind me the whole time, and while I'm writing, I hear her run into the living room and back. Didn't think much of it. I put the pen away, hang up the phone, and turn around, only to find black crayon all over my cupboards (photo was emailed to you, since I have been unable to upload images to my post today). I didn't know whether to laugh or cry...I still don't. I haven't told Charlie yet, but I figure, hey - it will be a nice surprise for him when he gets home!

Crazy day

Wow - I never get to sit down and do this, let alone get through all my emails in one day! LOL

What a beginning to this week. The vacuum cleaner busted yesterday. Here I am, sucking up cracker crumbs off the floor that my 18 month old, Gabriella, dumped on my 4 month old son's bedroom floor, when the vacuum made this horrendous noise. I look down to see smoke rolling out of it - good Lord! Meanwhile, Aiden is in his crib, fussing, because he wants to be held. Gabriella is screaming at the top of her lungs. Why? I don't know - maybe it was fun, or maybe the smell of burning rubber was freaking her out. I call Charlie at work - he picks up a new belt and replaces it for me last night. I didn't try it out, which I should have. I got the kids settled into their chairs for breakfast this morning and began my morning ritual of vacuuming and dusting while Gabby eats and Aiden plays with his toy bar. I didn't get two square feet of floor clean when - yup, you guessed it! - same horrendous noise, same smoke rolling out of the bottom of that cheap hunk of plastic! (Aren't Dirt Devils supposed to be halfway decent vacuums?) So I call the 800 number and talk to the Dirt Devil people. Guess what? Ha ha! My warranty has expired! Yay! I could have swore I bought that thing based on the fact that it had a 5 year warranty on it - not a 2 year warranty. *sigh* Anyway, the lady was really nice and said she would send out 2 new belts and a new roller, free of charge...they'll be here in 2-3 weeks....AAAAUUUUGGGHHH!!!!!!! We have another vacuum cleaner downstairs in the basement...which has the same problem as the Dirt Devil. I'm freaking out here today! I haven't vacuumed in two days, I have TWO dogs (one of which is a German Shepherd, and let me tell you - the spring shed has begun!), and the broom and dust pan aren't cutting it for me. I want to cry.

I've started hitting our X-Flex (Bow Flex knockoff) lately - it feels good to burn off some of the frustrations of the week...or day...or hour, whatever! I keep telling myself, and any other mommies that I know, that you have to set aside time for yourself or you'll go nuts. Those times are precious to me, and it seems like I get less and less of them lately. I wouldn't trade it for the world, though; I just need to be more constructive in how I lay out my day. Even though, somedays, I don't think it's doing me any good, it is paying off. I was excited to see a difference from last week when I put the ol' seamtress tape to work. Plus, it seems to keep my sanity in check. Now if the weather would clear up so we can get out of the house, too! Cabin fever, cabin fever!!