Cat.

Our neighbors have a cat who is a complete asshole.  Whenever Toby goes outside for a walk or to go potty, that damn cat bugs him.  He is an asshole.  It's the only word I can come up with to describe him.  I hate that cat!  Poor Toby is working on his training and out of nowhere, we can hear the tinkling of a tiny little bell.  The asshole cat is sneaking up to bother Toby.  Even tonight, at "late thirty" I took him out to do his business, and the cat came running from the very end of the street just to distract him.  I don't wish the cat any harm, but it's hard to not just let him off his leash to chase it.  Grrrr.

A Ren & Stimpy Kind of a Day

So, today was one of those days.  One of those days when my voice was a little bit louder, my pitch was a little bit higher, my eyeballs were a little bit bulgier, and my overall mood was...well...a little moodier.  It's not due to my period or anything hormonal.  This is being a mom.  This is being a mom to a 4 year old little girl who hates to wake up in the morning and a mom to a 10 week old puppy.  I've been busy at work with staying on top of things that seem to constantly pile up, trying to be sure that Farrah is off to school on time or her outings with Michele, staying on top of Toby's potty training so there's always dog pee and poop outside rather than inside, making sure Toby gets his walks in when it's not dumping down rain, preparing dinners, lunches, breakfasts, and hoping I get a moment to break away and pee and poop myself.  Whew!  Even typing that made me a lil' tired.  Here's an idea of what I sounded like this morning.  While reading this, be sure to try and hear my voice start to get louder and strained and crazed:
"Farrah, it's time to get up"
"Toby drop that!"
"Farrah! Get up now. You're going to be late."
"I don't care that you don't want to get up. Get up! TOBY!!! Leave it!"
"You HAVE to take a shower. YES YOU DO! Get in the shower, I have to take Toby outside."
"Toby, go biiiiiiggg potty.  Good boy!  NO! Drop it!"
"FARRAH?!!! Why aren't you in the shower?!!!"
"Where's Toby?"
"TOBY!!!"
"Farrah get dressed. Get dressed. Get dressed. Get dressed. GET DRESSED!"

This was me this morning:

You get the idea.  I suppose I don't have to go through my entire morning, however, know that my evening ended very similarly, if not worse.  Farrah was putting her finger in Toby's cage in the smallest whole and got her finger stuck.  STUCK-stuck.  Now, this is when she becomes a teapot.  She starts with a whimpering whine and then turns into a shrieking siren.  Her screams are blood curdling.  Her screams make me scream.  My head is down by her head, therefore her screaming is directly into my ear canal.

Why the hell did she put her finger in there?  How the hell did it get stuck?  I suppose we should ask her Grandma Jan who gets her feet, hands, and fingers stuck in everything and has since she was Farrah's age.  Is that even a gene you can pick up?  So I was able to come to her rescue by putting some ice on her finger and hoping my memory of some science projects would work.  I figured I'd ice it until the swelling would go down enough for me to wiggle the gate door and free her finger.  Whew!! It worked, thank god.  Wasn't sure if I was going to have to go to the ER with her attached to the crate with Toby inside wondering what the eff was going on.  My evening ended with me looking a little like this...

Tomorrow I have every intention to be a little more like this...

Easter 2011

I've blogged about this in the past, but it is this time of year that brings back so many memories of my Grandpa, John Kochrian.  This year in particular there are a lot of thoughts about him as well as my Grandma Virginia.  My parents just bought a new home (finally) which is about a 30-40 minute drive to my Grandma's.  She is 89 years old living in a 55+ trailer park where my parents were living to assist her and where my aunt and uncle live to also help her.  So, since Auntie Dianne and Uncle Mike do a lot of traveling (to visit my cousins or for leisure) they aren't as available.  Mom and dad moving has also made it so that it was time for a decision to be made.  It was time for Grandma to move to an assisted living apartment.  I think this hit all of us very hard, but not nearly as hard as Grandma.  I've only seen Grandma cry a small handful of times.  The first few times was when Grandpa was dying and at the last days of his life.  The latest time was when I was visiting her at her home, the only home I've ever known my grandparents to have ever lived in, and she started to fall apart when she said, "This is the last connection of your Grandfather that I have."  Broke my heart.  She's been scared and worried to make this move.  This LIFE move.
But I was invited to bring Farrah to her new place this last Sunday.  The place does programs constantly to keep them busy and LIVING their LIVES!  They had an early Easter Egg Hunt and Brunch.  Farrah and I got busy by stratagizing.  I sent Farrah far off from where the other kids were eyeballing the very visible eggs, forgetting there was another 1000+ square feet to rummage through.  She faired very well.  When we looked outside, that was when the memories of Grandpa came flooding in.  Where were the eggs that were supposed to be hiding IN the tulips?  Where were the eggs that were hiding in the much too high grass?  Where were the eggs hiding in the gutter drain?  This would be Grandpa John's way of thinking.  Get the kids on the verge of tears and then lead them in the right direction.
Anyway, the egg hunt went well and Farrah was kind enough to point out some eggs to a little boy who showed up a little late so he wouldn't go without.
Grandma seems to be adjusting and actually seems excited about all the upcoming activities that are totally up her alley.  She's going to be okay.  I will forever miss her home that I've always known was a second home for me while growing up, but again, it'll be okay. :)

Flowers

I was told by a gal in Fuzion last week, about a book called "The Artist's Way" that she highly recommended that I read.  I loved how insightful she was (considering we dont' know each other) that I needed a little creative "pick-me-up".  I guess it's one of those self discovery type books and it's been around for quite a while.  Well, I looked into it and I'll probably end up buying it.  I really want to finish some books I've been working on and maybe get back into my painting again.  There was a website for the book and I checked out the forum section.  There was one article in particular that caught my eye and it was, "Beginning a New Relationship...with me!"  The girl talked about how she was going to start treating herself better and even start buying herself little presents from time to time.  The one thing she said she started doing right away was buying herself some flowers.  She'd pick out ones that would cheer up a room.  She even said she was getting ready to start mailing herself some cards from Hallmark.  I thought this was such a great idea!
So, today I went grocery shopping and one thing on my list:  Flowers for me!  I love them.  They're simple and sweet and add a little bit of sunshine to our home when it's been nothing but grey for months.  I picked out some purple daisies and pink/white daisies as well as some babies breath.  I picked out one of my crystal vases I received for our wedding and decorated it with my flowers.  I set it up nice and neatly on our kitchen table.  It wasn't before long that the itching begun...
What. The. Hell.
I never get to have things like this and the one time I know I SHOULD have them, I find I'm allergic.  So, I took a benadryl and will do my best not to touch my eyes after touching the flowers.  Wonderful and kind gesture to myself gone array.

Disturbing

We have Apple TV.  It's a little device that makes it so we can watch movies from Netflix.  Unfortunately, no one warned me that our movie selection could potentially be crap.  It is.  Mind you, it isn't all terrible.  It's just that they're all pretty old movies.  Nothing people would go to the DVD rental place and rent ON PURPOSE.  This is all purely accidental.  So, Farrah has made a discovery of movies she thoroughly enjoys.  Jim Henson movies.  You know, back before they had the technology to have real people engage with imaginary creatures that looked real, they had puppets or muppets.  She particularly loves Labyrinth.  David Bowie is in this film.  And I have to be perfectly honest...not a fan of the wardrobe chosen for his character.  It's a bit...revealing.  I'm not sure why the costume designer picked out this outfit for him to wear, but it's a tad gross.  "Aw, yes, a movie for children.  Let's put David in pants that looks like he has a whole drawer of socks where his "business" is."  See for yourself and try to stifle the upchuck.

Ummm...yeah.  How about a pair of jeans next time, okay David Bowie.  Oh, and the music in this film was a lil' weird.  But Farrah seems to enjoy it and, thank god, isn't noticing the blinding bulge.