Photo update

Moving has sucked! We do have a really nice neighbor though who has two kids (4 & 2). I thought she was single, but her husband is actually in med school and gone for a few months with that. They're in their last year, so she'll be gone in May, but it is nice to have a normal neighbor (other than Andie).

Anyways, moving and scholastic calamity aside, here's some of the latest photos. Not much to talk about so I figure the pics will do!

So, Who Wants to Babysit Me?

I went to the back doctor today. He's decided there is nothing wrong with my back so he's not going to give me pain meds. I want to kick this guy in the shins. I realize that there is nothing structurally wrong with my back but just because all the pain is from the "soft tissue" doesn't mean it hurts any less. Pain meds are pretty much the only way I've been able to get out of bed most days. I've done enough physical therapy exercises to kill a horse, but I get to go do another round. I used to walk to school, but that jacked up my foot really bad so I had to stop doing that too. Oh, there's also nothing structurally wrong with my foot.

Now, I know this isn't a newsflash to anyone, but I'm way too fat. Like, so fat the doctors are asking *me* if I have considered getting a gastric bypass. Last I checked, gastric bypass was something people go asking about, not the other way around. For the record, I'm not going to get a damn bypass. It would be useless, plus it would make me look like a walking cadaver. My problem is all mental. Too many days without food in the house, too many days on the streets and too many days being the focus of very unwelcome attention. I know it's my mind screaming for a defense and I'm trying to let it go but every time a few pounds disappear instead of feeling pumped that the efforts are paying off, my brain starts sending me telegrams about its desperate need for chocolate.

I know what to do to get rid of the weight. That is not the problem. What I need is someone to hold my hand and be a big ol' food nazi. Someone to growl at me until I comply. Someone to remind me that my husband is actually quite vicious and would take the limbs off of anyone who dared mess with me these days. Someone to remind me that I'm much more likely to enjoy the positive results of dumping 200 pounds than to suffer the negative parts. Someone to tell me that everyone feels this emotion or that emotion from time to time.

Why do I need this? Because I was doing pretty good this time last year on the losing weight front and then it all got hijacked when I experienced the feeling "shame" for the first time in my entire life. The PTSD therapy is working wonders for my anger problems. I'm actually pretty chill now. Unfortunately, leaving food alone and doing this PTSD therapy left me wide open for unexpected consequences in the form of an emotion I could have lived the rest of my life without feeling. Just that one feeling that one time has got me running for brownies every time I even *think* about trying to lose weight. So, I gained 70 pounds in the last year and I was already way too heavy to begin with. Basically, I'm too chicken to face real feelings and that's what the food is burying.

What in the heck am I going to do?

So Very Talc-ey

When Rejeanne gets mad, she usually creates a great deal of screaming and drama. Today, she got mad, then got fairly quiet. Since it was near naptime, Lee thought she had put herself to bed. Moms, you guys all know what silence means! Especially with two:



Please notice all the particulate matter in the air obscuring your view of my blinds. My camera ain't blurry, folks; Rejeanne just has a cloud around her.



Baby brother seems to be enjoying himself, despite his powdery coating.



It looks like she dumped the whole container on his head!


You can't tell in the pics, but she stripped nude for the festivities and was doing simultaneous jump-twirls on my very powdered bed. Wheeeeeee

A Cautionary Travel Tale

Since Ms. Charity posted her awful travel story, it got me thinking (and laughing) about my very worst travel adventure ever.

Many, many moons ago, in 1997, my ex Jason and I were still married, no kids, and living in Phoenix, AZ. We randomly moved back to CA. At some point, my old roommate asks me if I want my old furniture back since she was moving out. I tell her "nah, it was only $50 at a yard sale. I sure do love that furniture though but yeah, not worth the expense of coming to get it". Honestly, we might have even gotten the stuff for $25 or free because the neighbor selling it was interested in the roomie until he found out she was 17. Anyways, I get off the phone and my FIL perks up and says "you can't just leave perfectly good furniture". I proceed to tell him it was from a yard sale and looks like it was made for a log cabin in the 70's. While I appreciate that distinct lack of style, no one else in their right mind would want that furniture. Well, my FIL firmly felt that you should never leave a perfectly good couch, chair, end tables and lamp, behind, regardless of its campy exterior. After an hour of trying to talk him out of this, he insisted I call her back and say we will come get the furniture. I even pointed out to him that renting the trailer to haul it would cost more than the stuff was worth. "No matter," FIL says, "It's perfectly good furniture". *sigh*

I should have known this was not going to go well when I decided to wear sandals. I'm a big fan of thinking of all possible bad outcomes and planning accordingly. I went to put on my sandals and my mind goes "no no no! Wear socks and shoes in case the car breaks down in the middle of the desert and you have to walk half way to Phoenix in 120 degree weather. No need to get bit by a fire ant on top of it." And I told myself "Don't be ridiculous, be comfy, wear the sandals".

Our trip begins in an old, blue Buick with a lil'bit o' duct tape on the roof. Simon Rentals installs a little open trailer on the back and we set off. Everything is cool until just past Quartzsite, AZ when all the sudden, the car just sounds like hell. I say "Al, you should pull over" and he says "If I stop, it might not start again." I took the opportunity to mention that we just passed the last civilized place for about the next 400 miles. No matter, we drive til it dies apparently. Then a few more miles and I say "Oh crap! Al, I think it's on fire back there and it sounds like crap is falling off the car". Apparently, the word "fire" was enough to get it pulled over. So, I get out of the car, cursing my temptation of fate by wearing sandals, and take a look around. Nothing but desert as far as the eye can see. Al was right; the car didn't start ever again. So, we did what all old people and young girls do in this position. We started walking and decided that we couldn't be more than 10 miles out of town. It was flippin hot. Really flippin hot. And I'm in sandals. I don't like ants or dirt in my shoes. I didn't even want to go get this darn furniture in the first place. Luckily, we were only walking about a mile before some nice, Spanish-only family in a minivan pulls over. While Al was a little leery of a ride with people he couldn't speak to, I promised him that even a carload of Mexicans can put two and two together when they saw the dead car a mile back and an old man and a fat chick walking in the middle of nowhere in the AZ desert. Besides, there was kids in the car, how bad could these people be? I hopped in the van and I'm pretty sure Al only got in because he didn't want me being kidnapped by illegals or something equally lame. They offered us water and a sandwich too. They had a cooler :) So, they leave us in Quartzite and we determine that there is a U-Haul place. I take my second swing at convincing him that the furniture is not worth it and that we should get a rental car and go home. But no, this was not to be. After all, you can't leave perfectly good furniture.

So, we go to the U-Haul place and discover they have only one U-Haul. The largest one they make. This thing was the size of a semi. Al takes it after I make a third pitch for turning around and going home. He puts the several hundred dollar expenditure on the credit card. Al must have mentioned we were towing a trailer because the guy asks if we need a "ball hitch adapter" or something like that. Al, of course, says no because a hitch is a hitch and the U-Haul has a hook up on the back. I say "are you sure we don't need that thing?" and he says we don't need it. So we leave and drive the behemoth back to where the broke down car is. We park and get out. Al starts taking the trailer off the car and I see a ball of dust coming towards us in the distance. It gets a little closer then stops. At that point I can see it's the tow truck. The tow truck driver gets out and picks up something on the road, gets back in the truck and drives down to where we are. The tow truck driver hops out and says, with a twinkle in his eye, "I think I found something of yours". It a piece of our car. I take it and wave it at Al. I told him it sounded like we were losing part of the car! Our rather jolly tow truck driver hitches up the car and leaves. After Al signed the credit card slip, of course. Probably another $100 for the tow.

Al and I are alone in the desert with the world's largest U-Haul truck and a little indy brand trailer. It wasn't too long until Al discovers what the "ball hitch adapter" is. It's the thing that lets you hook a non-UHaul to a U-Haul. It turns out U-Haul has custom hitches that are specially sized to work only with other U-Haul products. I suggest we drive the behemoth back to Quartzite and rent the $10 trailer hitch. He says "I'm not spending $10 on a hitch. I have some rope in the car." That's right, people. He actually said that. "I have some rope in the car". He meant it too. An hour of the foulest language ever uttered by my former FIL ensued. After that, we have a craftily tied thin yellow nylon rope holding a trailer on to a near-semi. Al gives it a little bounce and attaches the flimsy safety chain (!)and says "Let's go". I smirk at him and point to the safety chain and say "Do you really thing that is going to do anything if that rope breaks?" and he says "The rope isn't going to break. Safety first!" with a smile and we set off for Phoenix. We make it without any other events. When we pull in to the apt complex, I get out. To my surprise, the trailer is still very securely fastened to the back of the U-Haul. Shock and awe, people. That was one heck of a surprise. Al smiles at me and says "See, it's fine! Let's go get the furniture. We load up. That U-haul is the biggest room that furniture has ever been in, guaranteed. We leave to head home. It was a really, really long day.

It's 1:00 A.M. We're 5 1/2 hours in to our 6 hour drive home. Al takes the 10/210 interchange, which is a rather sharp curve for a semi-truck sized U-Haul towing a little trailer. All the sudden, people in the cars are yelling at us. Finally, we understand the third guy who says "Dude! Your trailer!!" as he zooms by. I figure that thing must be swinging side to side or something. We pull over, Al gets out to check on the trailer. I hear him coming back because he's cussing again. He gets in the U-Haul and says "the trailer's gone". "The trailer's gone?" I say. He says "Yeah, it's gone. We have to go look for it". At this point, I just shut up. We drive up and down the freeways in the middle of the night for over a half hour. No trailer anywhere. Al finally gives up. He says in a very serious tone "Don't you EVER, EVER, EVER tell Sue I used a rope and tied that trailer on. EVER!" I say "ok" and we go home. We get there and my MIL, Sue, calls the highway patrol to try to find the trailer.

In the morning, the CHP calls back and says the located the trailer and the rental company was contacted. They were going to go pick it up. It turns out the trailer flew off the freeway at the interchange, went down the embankment, hit a motorcycle cop's bike, and landed against the cinderblock wall of a gas mart. Al calls the rental company and before he can try to find out the financial damage, they start profusely apologizing. Apparently, the thought the trailer, which they had attached, had fallen off of the Buick. Al didn't bother to correct them. Sue is wondering aloud "how could that trailer have come off the hitch like that??" and he just shrugged his shoulders and left the room.

For the record, we did keep it a secret for a long time and I don't think Sue ever found out about what happened. :P

Bad adventure, funny story :)

A Cautionary Tale :)

My lovely Rejie, who talks all the time but no one has a clue what she is saying, has really beginning to pick up some words. This morning, Cyrus and I are napping in the bedroom and Lee and Rejeanne are in the living room. I guess Lee dozed off or something because I get up from my nap and Rejeanne (who likes to run naked when she has to go potty) runs up to me naked and follows me into the bathroom. She sits on the potty and plays and hangs out and plays some more. She says "poop" and I say "poop goes in the potty" but she doesn't poop. Eventually, she leaves and goes back to the living room. I finish brushing my teeth and hair and go out to the living room. Lee's asleep and Rejeanne looks distressed and says "ewwwwwww, poop!!" and waives her hand around then turns around and I see Poop!! So I run and get the potty and put her on it while Lee is trying to figure out what is happening. I come back with the potty and Lee is trying to clean her hand off and I put her on the potty and say "you put your poop in the potty, not on your hand" and Rejie just keeps saying "ewwww" "bad poop" and "not on hand" while completely freaking out. It was hilarious. After she's clean enough to go in the bath, she calmed down and said "Bad Poop! not on hand". Maybe she does learn better when she's completely freaked out after all!

The best part when I asked her where she pooped she said "need pants. Daddy. Wake up wake up. Bad poop" I have this feeling perhaps she tried to wake Lee up to get a new diaper so she could poop! She doesn't like pooping in a wet diaper and a wet diaper that she had stripped off was sitting right by where he was sleeping. All in all, he's pretty lucky she didn't poop on him.

On the upside, maybe she'll get better about telling us she needs the potty now, and of course she has learned not to put her hand into her poop. This should also have freaked Lee out enough to keep him from dozing on the job for a little while.

*edit* UPDATE: Turd has been located. Thankfully not by Cyrus.

Guess What??!!

We're moving! We were supposed to move this summer, but the place we were going to take was needed much, much more by a gal with 4 kids in a 2 bdrm. apt. so we swapped spots on the waiting list. Usually only one of the 3bdrm places come open every year or two. We expected that we'd still be in our apt for another year or so, but today the landlord came up to see if we wanted it. Heck ya we do!! I'm so glad I hadn't made the carpet cleaning appt yet because then we would have had to pay twice for it since we have to pay a carpet cleaning fee when we move to the other unit. I'm totally excited to have a nice, open L-shaped kitchen instead of the tunnel I have here. It's also got laundry hook-ups in the unit and central air/heat. They also did a bunch of renovations this year. It's even big enough for me to invite the gals over to do stuff without us all feeling like we are sitting on top of each other. The best part though is that Cyrus can have a room! He is just to strong and unaware of the pain he inflicts to put him in a room with Rejeanne so he has stayed in our room and we had no plans to move him out until he has more self-control about pulling his sister's hair.

Anyways, we should be in the new place October 1st. The current tenants bought a house, so unless their escrow falls through, we are moving on in there!

So, fellow Vermillionaires, where should I go to score some boxes??

First Day of Preschool

I really wish my camera battery hadn't decided to stop charging about a month ago. It has caused us to miss taking a video of Cyrus trying to crawl and dance at the same time, most of Rejeanne's birthday goodness, her new skill at building forts, and most criminal of all: Rejie's first day of preschool!!

I managed to get her there early. She must have know she was going to have to stay by herself by assessing the adult to kid ratio. She refused to enter the room. She hunkered down in a tight little Rejie ball and wouldn't cooperate. I finally coax her into the room, and she re-balled by my feet. I decided to go the the circle puzzle to bribe her and while I was searching for it, she made her escape. Unfortunately for Rejeanne, one of the preschool staff saw her bolt on me and went to chase her down. She played with the puzzle with me, but I had to leave pretty quick after that and she screamed and screamed. I felt like a total jerk.

On the upside, the preschool staff considers her screaming from 8:45 to 10am a good day because she was mostly chill from 10-11:30. With standards that low, I probably don't have to worry about any meetings with the principal. I'm also pleased to report that Rejeanne kept her clothes on the entire time. *sigh* She is getting so big.

Oh! Cyrus is trying really hard to talk and is saying two word phrases here and there. I thought the boys were supposed to be the slow talkers???!