Boy, That Was Some Good Peein'

And speaking of my birthday, as the Big 4-0 quickly approaches I am becoming increasingly aware that I have less and less time to get into shape. Its now or never.

I have lost the baby weight from Bunny, but big woo. She'll be two in September. Celebrities lose their baby weight in mere weeks. Besides, my pre-pregnancy weight was about 10 pounds more than I was comfortable with anyway. And it was 20 pounds more than would make me gleeful and conceited.

So SSB and I have been working out and cutting carbs. The other day we went to the gym and I alternated between walking and running on the treadmill for the longest 20 minutes of my damn life and then I lifted weights. Triceps and quads and calves. Oh my. When I got home I re-weighed myself, just for farts and giggles and was happy to see I had lost 4 tenths of a pound. I'll take it. I did a little happy dance to the shower and was doing my best Gene Kelly impersonation, splashing and soft-shoeing, when SSB came in the bathroom. He weighed himself, turned around and took a piss and then weighed again and lost 6 TENTHS OF A POUND. Just like that. I had to almost kill myself and all he had to do was pee. And he has the bladder of an INFANT. Its not like he pulled a Jimmy Dugan or anything.

If only it were really that easy always.

This Ain't A Scene, It's My Pretend Birthday

Happy Birthday to MEEEE!
Happy Birthday TO MEEE!
Happy BIRTH - wait.
It's not my birthday.

But that did not stop ArtistMommy from giving me a birthday present! Why? Because she's just cool like that.


Yes! It is Petey's book from his childhood nightmares that I've been wanting to add to my crush collection. She took the (oh so subtle) hint and pwned you all!

As for the story itself he says right up front that it has no point. And he's right. Its kind of like his songs, which IMHO are crybaby wah-wah, o woe is me. But that's the stuff from which songs are made and he's apparently good at it. I hope for Ashlee's sake he's not that whiny in real life though.

I LOVE celebrating my birthday when its not my birthday!! As far as friends go, ArtistMommy is totally boss. She is the cheese to my macaroni. And, I know people are supposed to actually meet before they become friends but . . . I guess normalcy isn't really our style. Its like we've known each other forever and have lived parallel lives. We keep finding quirky little things that are same about us and our past. I don't usually even have FRIENDS, let alone twin soul-type friends so I've decided neither of us is ever moving. Ever. We're going to Lucy and Ethel it right here on this block.

Keep On A-Rockin' Me Baby

The Rock Band 2 setlist came out yesterday and I can hardly contain myself. Last night I dreamed about all the songs to come. How am I going to wait until September??

Alanis Morissette "You Oughta Know". Are you kidding me?? I'd buy it JUST for that song.

Billy Idol "White Wedding". Too bad its not Mony Mony, but it'll do.

Offspring "Come Out & Play". You gotta keep 'em separated!

Red Hot Chili Peppers "Give It Away". I'm already warming up my tongue for that one.

Joan Jett "Bad Reputation". Ahhh. The memories.

Ratt "Round and Round". I know a chick from Sapaloopa that will be over here to play THAT one as soon as she can. :)

System of a Down "Chop Suey". Creepy but fun to sing.

Bikini Kill "Rebel Girl". Yikes, but yay! And Nirvana "Drain You" which it is said Kurt Cobain wrote it about Tobi Vail from Bikini Kill. I don't like Nirvana anyway and don't know if I can sing about chewing your meat for you without gagging.

The list goes on and on. 84 songs, all master recordings, plus 20 available for download later. I'm crossing my fingers hoping for "Welcome to the Jungle".

It's Finger-Lookin' Good!

I was looking at Pootie's finger over the weekend and was pleasantly surprised to find that the snakebite wound has healed over. Her surgeon had wanted to do a skin graft last week or the week before but there was no opening until July 25th and now I think its too late.

This morning I left a message for him to call me so we could discuss it. I got a call back within an hour, which was another pleasant surprise. A woman transferred me to another woman who asked if she could help me first. I told her what was going on and she said, "Oh. You better talk to him about that."

But then she came back on the phone and said, "OK. We'll cancel the surgery. He does want to see her one more time though" and made us an appointment. Wow. That was easy. I was thinking I'd take her down to see him before the surgery so HE could determine if she still needed it or not, but its fine with me.

What do you think?

RAK Hijack

My friend from Oklahoma and her two boys came down for the 4th of July and spent about a week here. We had a lot of fun and our kids were disappointed to see them go because "we did something every day and now we're just going to sit here and do nothing again." Hmmph.

Her kids want to move here because there is always someone to play with "and if you get bored with one kid, just move on to another." :)

One of the things we did was go to a Rangers game Tuesday night. I didn't think any of my kids would be interested in going, but they did (with the exception of Bugaboo because she had to work). As we drove toward Arlington we saw the clouds a-comin' but pressed ahead anyway. As we got to the parking lot it started to POUR and the kids were griping that the game would be canceled.

We pulled into the open lot where an attendant was standing in the downpour. SSB rolled the window down to fork over the $12 and the guy asked if we were with the people ahead of us. We had taken two cars but my friend's car was beside us, not in front of us so there was a moment of confusion. The attendant said the car in front of us had paid for us already but since we had said we weren't with them he said maybe they meant the one behind us.

As we pulled ahead I looked back and the car behind us paid for themselves too so now I'm wondering what that was all about. Was the person ahead of us performing a Random Act of Kindness and it got screwed it up? Did the guy keep an extra $12 that was to go toward their karma? Or was he just testing us to see if we'd say yes, we were with them so let us in?

With my mind running in all these directions I didn't even pay attention to what kind of car was in front of us so I could find them and thank them, if it had it been a RAK, and I feel bad about that.

I Look and I Sound Like the Letter $$$$$$$$$$

Update on the snake bite drama.

Pootie has most of her range of motion back in her finger. It doesn't straighten all the way or bend all the way when making a fist, but the hand surgeon is pleased with what she CAN do even though it is still somewhat numb. He said it probably damaged some of her nerves but he didn't say if she'll regain any sensation or not. However, her wound where the little sucker actually bit her has not healed up on its own enough and she is scheduled for outpatient surgery to have a skin graft on July 25. Luckily, not TOO much tendon is showing and he doesn't have to do the cross-finger flap he thought he might have to do and it will just be a regular skin graft, probably taking the skin from somewhere on her thigh or hip.

In related news we got another statement from the insurance company. Children's Medical Center charged Cigna $189,926.50 just for the ER and inpatient part of her hospital stay (doesn't include doctor charges, ambulance, etc.). $99,999.00 of that was just for the Cro-Fab (anti-venin). If you read my original post about this, you'll know that I took home the information sheet that the ER sent up to the nurses on the floor about it and one of the things it said was that each vial of Cro-Fab costs the hospital $900 and I wondered how much they were going to charge the insurance company. My answer is $3333.33 if she got 30 vials. (I lost track and know she got between 24 and 30 vials but for math purposes we'll say it was 30.) Cigna only allowed for about $58,000, meaning they paid about $1900 a vial. Quite a profit for the hospital.

E-Care charged my credit card $100 the night it happened and I don't know how much they charged the insurance company but another $250 was automatically paid out of our flexible spending account (cafeteria plan). I don't know what they could charge for though because all that place did was call an ambulance. That is ALL they did. The ambulance took her from E-Care to the local hospital 7.7 miles away (even though that hospital wasn't equipped to do anything about her injury) and we just got a bill for $485.00 for that pointless ride. That's almost $63 a mile. It's crazy.

$tay away from $nakes!

In a Wad

Guess what?

I'm wearing panties!!!

But it wasn't a successful endeavor. She baptized two pair in half an hour. Oh well. It was a start.

Guinea Puppy

SSB got a wild hair the other day and took Diego (the guinea pig) out of his cage so Sofine could have her way with him. He was feeling sorry for her after her initial contact with him, which you can read about here.

SSB held Diego and Dupree held Sofine's collar. All was well so he let Diego walk around on the ottoman by himself. Sofine didn't take her eyes off of him. She just stared and stared as he came closer to her. He came over and sniffed her.

And he cuddled up to her.

He pretty much accepted her maternal advances like when she nudged him around like a newborn puppy.

And they were both very happy. But I'm not quite ready to just let them both loose together. Not yet anyway.

Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny

For those of you who don't personally know us, let me describe Pootiepie for you before I start this story. She is 13 and just starting to grow out of being a tomboy, at least on the outside. Inside she's pretty much the same. She's either 5'1" or 5'2" and barely weighs 80 pounds. She looks like a newborn colt, all legs. Her legs are so stick skinny they don't look like they should be able to hold her up. The only big thing on her are her feet. She currently wears a women size 8.5 shoe and counting. They look like flippers attached to the skinniest ankles you can imagine and her thighs aren't much bigger.

Swimsuit season is upon us and we, the adults of the family, decided it was time for her to get a new one. She doesn't have a lot that needs to be covered (picture Olive Oyl in a bikini) but after 2 or 3 summers in use, her suit was ready for retirement. Besides. It was a size 7/8. 7/8 like what first and second graders typically wear. It still fit her and she wasn't hanging out of it anywhere but we insisted.

Even though she is a teenager and going into 8th grade I knew that nothing that is supposed to fit her would fit her. I thought size 10/12 should work though. I went shopping one day and took pictures of different suits I thought were cute and sent them to Bugaboo's phone at home for Pootie to see and choose one. She chose a red and white striped two piece but when I went back for it, the ONE that was size 10/12 wasn't there anymore. Shitballs. I left without buying anything and figured she could go back some other time to see if they got more or go to a different store to look.

A couple days later Bugaboo took Pootie shopping. I knew it would be a painful experience because Pootie is very critical of everything that isn't just perfect and gets mean about it and I was glad to not have to go. They came back a couple hours later and Pootie triumphantly held up her purchase. She liked the color, the style and the fit. I was happy. She was happy. Bugaboo was happy to have made it home alive. All seemed well.

Until she tried it on for me. It still seemed quite small. She yelled, "Its a size 10/12 just like you said to get!!" I looked at the hanger. Yep. 10/12. I looked at the tags. Um. Not quite 10/12. It was size 6x. Like what kindergarteners wear.

She had already taken the tags off and that protective lining in the bottoms and argued that her old one just probably shrunk and this one will be fine. She'll NEVER put it in the dryer, she promised. OK. Whatever. As long as I don't have to take her shopping for another one. This one will probably last her until she can drive anyway and she can go by herself.

Mama Mia Let Me Go

When our dog Sofine first came to us a little over a year ago (we found her abandoned at a truck stop in Oklahoma) the vet had us take her for an ultrasound to see if she was pregnant. She had signs of being pregnant or recently delivering pups and she wanted to put her on an antibiotic for a tick bite disease she also had. The antibiotic would deform the puppies (so she said) if she was currently pregnant so we had to make sure.

She was NOT pregnant and so she got the antibiotic, but the conclusion was that she must have very recently had some puppies. She had very strong maternal instincts and would lick Bunny's little head for as long as we would let her. Maybe her previous owner had taken her babies away and so she ran away to find them. That's sad, but a possible scenario. I guess only a pet psychic would know.

Well. I'm about to call one in because she had gone crazy recently. Pootie finally got her wish for a guinea pig for her birthday. (The reviled gerbil still has not died but she got one anyway with birthday money.) And Sofine had gone ape $#!t for this new addition to our family. At first I wasn't sure if she wanted to eat him or nurse him, but now I think its nurse him. For one, thing he (named Diego) is tri-colored like she is, black, brown and white and he is about the size of a puppy. My strongest theory is that she thinks he really and truly is one of her long-lost babies because she will not leave his side. She just sits outside the cage staring and staring at him.

I don't want to take him out and put them together to see what happens though. I already feel sorry for the poor little guy being stared at all the time. It must be a little daunting. But Pootie and Bugaboo thought they'd try it one night with each of them holding one animal to assure no major carnage. I'm not sure who fell down on their job but Sofine licked Diego's butt and then there was much screaming and carrying on and Diego was shut back up in his cage.

Once in a while Sofine will bark while sitting outside the cage, but only one little woof. My heart kind of breaks for her and I want to put them together for her sake. Even if she figures out he's not a puppy she still may take it as a substitute and love him like her own. I just don't know how HE would take to that. And I'd hate to be wrong and find out she's been picturing him as a big porkchop or something like in cartoons.

Anyone have any suggestions? Please comment and let me know what you think.

Scabba Dabba Doo

Ugh. The following is not for the faint of heart.

Pootie casually announced that her snakebite scab came off today. We've had follow-up visits with the plastic surgeon every two weeks since she got bit and every time he just says, "We may have to do a skin graft. Lets wait to see what under that black scab."

You, the blogging community, get a first look, even before he does because she deosn't go back to him until July 1st.



Yeah. I'm thinking a skin graft is in her future. That's quite a chunk.

Sprechen Sie DOH!

SSB left for a business trip to Germany on Sunday. It was kind of a last minute thing that he didn't find out about until Thursday.

He has the worst luck when he travels, but this trip takes the strudel.

I thought it was bad enough that he had to leave on Father's Day but apparently the powers that be disagreed. That was NOT enough.

As everyone was boarding the flight out of DFW, the guy in front of him was strapping in a car seat for his kid and found a big, long screwdriver down in the plane seat. Even though the captain said they knew one had been unaccounted for earlier, everyone had to be evacuated while they searched the plane for more in case it was a stashed terrorist weapon. I think if there were any terrorists they'd probably just stick their contraband screwdrivers back in their pockets then bring them back on board again. But maybe terrorists are dumb like that and would just leave them to be found. I don't know.

So his flight was late getting to London but he still made his connection on time. Or would have if it had not been canceled due to the fact that George Bush was finishing his European trip and Air Force One was at Heathrow. Apparently when Air Force One is there they restrict the number of other flights in and out and SSB's flight to Munich was one that got deep sixed. Why doesn't Air Force One use a military airfield? Do our commercial airports restrict the number of flights when a foreign head of state is over here? More things I don't know.

All of the other flights to Munich ran that day but not SSB's and they couldn't get him on the next one. Or the next one. But he did get on the last one. Six hours later than he should have been. This got him in to Munich after 11 p.m. their time on Monday night. As he got off the plane and walked through the airport he heard his name being called overhead. He went to where they paged him to and was told they lost his bags. Not just all of his clothes, his great big equipment case that he had to bring there which held his REASON to be there in the first place. Plus it had his phone charger and laptop power supply cords in it. He carried on THREE laptops but couldn't fit all the accessories into the bag. Don't ask me why he needed three laptops or what the equipment was that was in the case or even what his job is. These are still more things I don't know.

He filled out the paperwork for his bags then headed to the car rental booth because Munich isn't even where he was going. He had to drive an hour south to a little town close to the Austrian border. This story wouldn't be complete though if the obvious hadn't happened. They gave away his car because he wasn't there when he said he'd be and they, of course, had no more so he went from place to place until he found one. Finally.

I think I should point out that it was about 1 a.m. Tuesday by this time and he had been up since about 9 a.m. SUNDAY morning. Granted, he lost 7 hours flying over the ocean, but that is still 33 hours without sleep. Oh, wait. He did sleep an hour on the plane. My bad. I don't think anyone should drive a vehicle when they've been up for 33 hours. ESPECIALLY ON THE AUTOBAHN. I was a nervous wreck sitting here thinking about him out there. While he was still flying, I sent him a text that maybe he should just stay at a hotel near the airport for the night and drive the next morning. And I checked the train schedules but the last one left at 11 and there wasn't another until 4 the next morning. I never got to argue my point with him though because I didn't get to talk to him until he was already on the road. Driving. On the autobahn. On no sleep. Talking on the phone.

To his credit he didn't call me, I called him and he just answered. I called because I didn't know the extent of his woes yet and had figured out that he should already be in Garmisch long ago. When he answered I said, "Yay! You're not dead!" He said he almost was though. Huh? SSB has many wonderful qualities and talents, but his sense of direction is not one of them. I used to think he was just kidding or faking it for some reason, but no. He is just really, really bad at going the right way. It could cost us the Amazing Race if we ever get on it. He lived in Tulsa for 20 years and still went the wrong way to places he had been to dozens of times (if not more). Anyway. He was on the autobahn and then thought he was going the wrong way so he turned around. Then he thought, no he HAD been going the right way and was now going the wrong way. He stopped and asked someone and got on the autobahn going the wrong direction. Not the wrong direction like north instead of south. Against the flow of traffic wrong direction. Think "Planes, Trains and Automobiles" at 120 miles an hour in the middle of the night. Oh, and there are no streetlights on the autobahn even in town. I don't know why.

Is anyone tired of this story yet? If you are, go on to the next blog cuz there's more.

While on the phone with him I was trying to figure out where he was on Google maps because he still wasn't sure he was going the right direction. There are lots of signs and he said you'd think it would be helpful, but there were too many to read and cars were going too fast and there were no lights. So I was trying to find out where he was on my map when he suddenly yells a bad word and throws the phone down. I'm panicked but don't hear any sounds of squealing tires or crashing metal, just a lot of bumps and thuds. After what seemed like an eternity he picked the phone back up. The exit for the road he had to take had suddenly come upon him on the right and he was way over in the left lane. He changed lanes and pulled over to the right, after the exit, then just went over the curb to go back.

He finally got to Garmisch at about 3 a.m. The place he is at is a "U.S. Department of Defense-owned luxury hotel in the Bavarian Alps." This means it is like a military base in that it has a guarded gate. And he was not on The List to get in. And he had to be up in 4 hours for the first meeting. So he opted to sleep in his car. But in an unexpected stroke of luck, the guard made another call and got him in. He said SSB still wasn't on the list but That Guy signed for him. SSB didn't know who That Guy was but didn't care at that point. He got a room and intended to get 4 hours of sweet, sweet slumber but as it turns out his car would have been the better choice. A previous occupant had been sucking on the cancer sticks triggering an asthma attack in my poor, weary traveler and his inhaler was lost somewhere between London and Munich. He gave up trying to sleep at about 5:30.

Things did get better the next day. He got his bags and some sleep and it is very, very pretty there. And clean. But he kinda hates it cuz it makes him want to quit everything and just live there in a picture perfect world and he can't. Yet.

A Little Bit Drrty

I got an email from ESPN today that has me very excited and stuck to my computer all day.

Its Fantasy Football time!! Woot!

I am going to get SOLID commitments from everyone this year in advance. Last year all the kids wanted to be involved but when every weekend it was ME who was managing their teams. Well, no more. This year I don't care if someone hasn't checked if any of their players are injured or have a bye that week. Too bad for them and better for me!

ArtistMommy's little girl can't pronounce my name and although she is getting better at it every day, she used to call me "Dirty". She'd put a lot of R into it so it would sound like Drrrrrrty. So now my team name is the Drrty Coyotes. Fierce!!

I can't wait until our draft even though it was a little long last year and the kids got bored and restless. I'm going to have to come up with fun things for them to do when its not their turn to pick. I am thinking of having everyone choose their logo early this year so we can make a shirt and wear it that night. Its going to be so fun!!

FD 2006

Last night ArtistMommy was looking at a collage Bugaboo did two years ago for Fathers Day so I decided to blog it since it is that time of year again.

Each kid made a list of their favorite things about SSB and then Bugaboo got pictures off the internet to represent them and glued it all together with the title "Why I'm Glad You're My Dad". Here are their lists:

Bugaboo:
You walk around the house like a model. (He does. He's always practicing for the catwalk.)
You know why tires don't pop - or at least from heat.
You let me watch Guns N Roses all night on my birthday.
You always buy me silly boxers.
You play Faith No More really loud in the car.
You always stop at 7 Eleven.
You try to get me to go running even though I won't go.
You say stuff like "edumacated".
You make fun of us.
You took me and my friends to the My Chemical Romance concert and actually had a good time.
You wear weird Sketcher shoes.

Taz:
I look up to you.
You play so many games with us.
You're so funny.
The family wouldn't be complete without you.
You're there for us all.

PootiePie:
You're very smart.
You're awesome with computers and technology.
You have a great smile and your teeth are nice and shiny and clean. (He really does have a great smile. A thundering smile.)
You love us and keep us safe.
You're awesome at chess.
You play with us a lot.
You makes us a lot of money.
You're a very cool dad.

Snickety:
You are so nice.
You spend money on us.
You share with me.
You always help me.
Your smile is awesome.
Your smile gets better and better every day. (He had Invisalign braces at the time to move one tooth.)
When I'm gone I think about you.

BeeMan:
You play Mechassault 2 with me.
You have big muscles.
You have pretty hair. (I have to agree. Pretty hair and a great smile. I'm so jealous, but if I can't have it, at least I'm married to it!)
You taked me to Best Buy to get a computer game.
You make me laugh.

Bunny wasn't born yet, but I made one for her.
You're giving me the perfect name. (I let him name her and wasn't even told what it would be until the day after she was born. I don't think he really knew until then either.)
You're buying me lots of great stuff for when I arrive.
You give me and Mommy lots of room in bed. I drive her crazy at night!
I love listening to your voice. I makes me feel all snuggy.
You make Mommy so happy and take such good care of her and that makes me happy and cared for too.

He's the best dad and they did a great job of letting him know that. I'm always trying to figure out new things to do for him every year, but I don't think we'll top that one any time soon.

Right-Handed Destruction

Bunny knows how to use scissors!!!!



Unfortunately she debuted her talent on one of my very favorite outfits ever!! It is a hand-me-down from ArtistMommy's girls and its the cutest thing ever. I was upset the other day when she got chocolate Rice Dream all over it and I was out of Zout. I used some all-purpose Resolve but it didn't quite do the trick. I had it set aside this morning to soak it in Oxiclean but she found it and started to dress herself in it. Granted, she had both of her legs stuffed down the neck hole while the actual bottoms were cast aside, but she was proud and so was I.

I will keep this outfit secured in a Space Bag and tucked into my hope chest as memorabilia so it will live on, but I wanted her to wear it more. Like, all summer.

(OMG. This post totally seems whored-out with all the product names thrown in there, doesn't it?)

Bandicoot

About a month ago I had the Novasure endometrial ablation done and I went for a follow up visit with my OB/GYN the other day. Unbeknownst to me there were stitches IN THERE that she took out during the visit. *Shudder* I didn't really feel anything but driving home after had me squirming in my seat the whole way.

It was Pootie's birthday and Bugaboo was going to get her a pair of shoes. I had picked them up earlier that day but forgot to mention it to Bugaboo so I called her to catch her before she went to get them. She answered the phone all out of breath and said, "We just got here. I'll call you right back." I started to ask "Who got where?" since she was grounded but she just repeated that she'd call me back and hung up.

Now I squirmed even more.

And waited. And waited and waited.

Finally she called back and said, "We're on Parkview." What does that mean? I said, "WHO is?"

B: "Me and the other girl."

Me: "What other girl? What are you talking about?"

B: "The girl that hit me!"

Me: "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?? I called about SHOES!"

B: "Oh. Well. I was on my home after school and someone in front of me stopped really fast and so I stopped really fast and the girl behind me didn't."

OMG. She has had her license for less than 4 months. The day she got her permit last summer, as we were going home from getting it, she was hit by a car also. Sideswiped by a guy coming out of a parking lot 2 lanes over. that first one definitely wasn't her fault and technically getting rear-ended is always the other person's fault, but there are things a more experienced driver may have done to avoid both situations. I can't bear the thought of teaching 5 more kids to drive and worrying every time they get behind the wheel.

One Delta Ten Tango

After one snakebite hospitalization, three Memorial Day parties, a visit from my parents, one never-ending dentist appointment, one Kindergarten celebration, a carb-filled Volunteer Appreciation luncheon at the school and a painfully long middle school choir concert that made the dentist seem like going to a spa, SSB and I farmed everyone out and hid at a hotel last Friday and Saturday night. It was bliss. Since everyone was gone (well, except Dupree) we could have stayed home, but home has laundry to be done and a lawn to be mowed and a fence to be built. The hotel was the better choice.

We slept in, ordered room service, went to the Galleria in Dallas, slept some more, ordered room service again and watched TV on Saturday. Sunday we slept in again but we weren't hungry so we skipped room service and just finished the Bacardi from the night before. Wow. Big mistake. We are not cut out to be rock stars and have 151 for breakfast. We called for a late check out and then fell back asleep. When we woke up it was almost 2 and the kids were probably going to beat us home, if they weren't already there. Shitballs! We threw all of our junk together and started stuffing it into our bags running around like we were late for a gig.

All the way home I kept thinking of things I thought I forgot. "Did you get my makeup?" Yes, he did. "What about my phone charger?" Yes. Everything I thought I had forgotten he had packed.

It didn't occur to me until TUESDAY that I didn't know where my wedding rings were. I think I have a pinched nerve in my elbow because my pinkie and ring finger are constantly numb and tingly and sometimes hurt and having my ring on makes it worse so I didn't even think about not having it on Monday. Doy! I had to take Pootie back to the plastic surgeon and toxicologist in Dallas for a follow up so I had SSB tearing the house apart. I couldn't even let myself think they had been left at the hotel. He'd call just to tell me he HADN'T found them. I didn't want that kind of update. He was going to make me cry and crash and burn in the HOV lane if he called one more time without finding them.

Luckily, for Pootie and I and all I-35E travelers that morning, he found them. At the hotel. They hadn't even stolen them!!!! I was very surprised and thrilled. I almost hugged the lady when I went to pick them up later. I'm so glad I was an idiot at a nice hotel instead of a not-so-nice one. I would still be crying today.

Here's to you, Marriott Las Colinas!

Once Bitten Twice Shy, Babe

Last Wednesday at about 8:30 p.m. AristMommy, Bugaboo and I were sitting in the front yard watching the kids play when all of a sudden we heard Pootie Pie scream and start then yelling. “Get me out of here! Get me out!” ArtistMommy jumped up and started running then Bugaboo sprinted past her. I grabbed Bunny and waited, a bit bewildered. Was this really something that warranted all this? ArtistMommy and her husband (where did he come from?) were guiding a hysterical Pootie to the house. She was crying and repeated, “A snake! A snake bit me! In the sewer! A snake!” BeeMan fell off of the skateboard and it shot down the street and into the storm drain along the curb. Pootie shimmied down in there like she had done dozens of times before to retrieve it.

We brought her to the faucet to rinse her left hand and look for bite marks. After rinsing the blood we only saw one mark on her ring finger but then a second pinprick point of blood came up so we knew it had been fangs. I had no idea what to do. How do you know if it was a venomous snake or not? What do I do? I didn’t have to think; ArtistMommy did it for me and told me to take her in. I squeezed her wrist really hard. Isn’t that what cowboys do to keep the venom from going up into their heart? Then they slice it open and suck the poison out (don’t forget to spit then, not swallow). She screamed, “Mommy it hurts!” I said I know. She said, “No! You’re squeezing me too tight!” Oh, sorry.

On the way to E-Care about a mile away Pootie started crying and asking if she was going to die. “Mommy, just tell me the truth!” I told her no because we were on the way to get help. She wasn’t lying out in the desert somewhere all alone without medical attention. She calmed down a little, but the pain kept her very upset.

After E-Care took Pootie’s vitals, which were fine and normal and our insurance info and credit card, someone came in and said they weren’t equipped to handle snake bites so they were calling an ambulance to take her to a hospital ER.

The ambulance came for her at about 9:15 and I followed in the car and was standing outside of it as they unloaded her. Inside the ER they were waiting for her and put us in a room. They took her vitals and our insurance and credit card information and then told us they aren’t equipped to handle snake bites. What? I was upset but didn’t really have it in me to throw any kind of fit. What would that get me anyway? If they don’t have anti-venin, they don’t have it. I think the ambulance service should know who has it and who doesn’t though and not waste anyone’s time like that.

By now Pootie’s finger was black and her hand was swollen like a club. Her wrist was blowing up too and it hurt all the way up into her armpit. They gave her some morphine and some Zofran (anti-nausea) at 9:40 while we waited for the next ambulance to come from Children’s Medical Center of Dallas about 30 miles away. They got there at about 10:15 p.m. and I assured her I’d be at the hospital as soon as possible and went home to pick up a bag Bugaboo and Dupree had very thoughtfully packed for us. Even if I had gone straight there I wouldn’t have been able to keep up because they took off with lights and sirens.

See that peace sign she drew on her fingernail? I think it served as a target. I keep telling all of them to stop writing on themselves. Maybe they'll listen now. (Ha.)

Later I talked to the ambulance driver, and I think she got to Children’s at about 10:45 but I didn’t get there until 11:35. He also told me she would have been air lifted but the helicopter was down for annual maintenance that night. Dang it. That would have been awesome.

A nurse came in and updated me. It takes one hour for the anti-venin CroFab to be ready once the pharmacy mixes it up and she was due to have it at about 12:15. They would give her 6 vials of an initial dose and then 2 more vials every 6 hours as a maintenance. Up to 6 extra vials could be given after the initial 6 if that didn’t seem to stop the symptoms. She had gotten another dose of morphine and Zofran but was still in a lot of pain. It hadn’t helped even a little. Plus now she had been vomiting. One doctor said it was from the morphine but another said it was from the venom. Whatever. She finally got some Vicodin and that helped ease the pain a little, although throughout this whole ordeal she was never pain-free and she has a very high pain tolerance. When she was in first grade she broke both the bones in her forearm and never cried.

They said they were going to admit her. One resident, with a meaningful look, told me they were going to send her to ICU because she was real sick. But another jumped in and said they didn’t have any other beds to send her to anyway. I didn’t know who was more right but it scared me. The pain and swelling hadn’t stopped and was going further and further up her arm. It was a very uncomfortable night in a very hard chair next to her bed with neither one of us getting much sleep. It seemed like she was some kind of celebrity because residents, medical students, paramedics and nurses that had nothing to do with her care kept coming in to ask if they could look at her hand because they had never seen a snake bite before. Plus they were pumping her full of IV fluids and the only bathroom was down the hall. She had to pee every couple hours and it was a big ordeal with a useless hand with a rotten finger.

At 6 a.m. Thursday the swelling and pain stopped progressing up her arm at about her bicep area, this was after 12 vials of CroFab. We were moved into the ER Annex, a kind of a holding area while waiting for a regular room upstairs to open up.

Bugaboo and Dupree showed up around 10 a.m. and Pootie’s eyes lit up when she saw her sister. She perked up and seemed OK for the first time. It was very good to see.

They finally moved us to a regular room upstairs at about 2 p.m. She had been seen by so many doctors, residents and medical students I couldn’t keep them all straight.

SSB flew home early and got to the hospital about at about 5 p.m. with Snickety and Taz. BeeMan had fallen asleep after school so Dupree stayed with him. Taz was very attentive and tried to help her in any way possible. That night my cousin called. I hadn’t spoken to him since I saw him at a family reunion a few years ago so it was very sweet of him to call and check on us. Pootie wondered why he called and why everyone was being so nice and concerned and calling. I told her because she could have died and she started to cry. “I didn’t know I could have died! You told me I wasn’t going to die!” Yes I did and she didn’t die did she? So then she asked “Well I didn’t die so why are people still so interested?” I told her because a lot of things still could have happened, like she could have lost her finger or several other things but none of that was going to happen now because she was getting better. She just cried more. “I didn’t know that!” Well. It’s good she didn’t know that then.

After being seen by a couple specialists they all decided we could go home Friday afternoon after she got a tetanus shot. She ended up getting somewhere between 24 and 30 doses of CroFab. The information sheet that was in the room said it costs the hospital $900 per vial. I wonder how much they charge the patient/insurance company???

We don’t know yet if there will be any damage or scarring. We have follow up appointments next week.

Lesson #1 – Stay out of the sewer and drains.

Lesson #2 - If any of the other kids get bit by a snake I will not waste my time with E-Care, local hospitals or even 911. I will just drive straight to Dallas and save myself a few hours.

Nothing Compares to A Quiet Evening Alone

Wow. Two posts in one day. After such a dry spell its no wonder.

I have to take a vacation from my computer. Especially the internet. Every once in a while I get obsessed with something or someone and I just have to step back and let reality back in.

This week I am crushing on the bassist for Fall Out Boy. I know, so are a lot of girls. But I'm not actually a GIRL anymore so its kinda gross. I'm like 12 years older than he is. And most of THEM have had their crushes for a few years now, starting when FOB first became mainstream. So not only am I old, I am also very behind the times (read: uncool).

Its not like I didn't know about him until now. After all I have Bugaboo to keep me abreast of all things new and hip, whether I want to or not. I mean, I sang "I'll be your number one with a bullet!" at the top of my lungs with the best of them a few years ago. And I always took note of him back then because he has the same monkey face that SSB has. That sounds mean, but I mean it in the nicest way possible. I love their faces.

I suppose he has jumped into my consciousness, and other places, because he's all over the place right now because of getting married to Jessica Simpson's little sister Ashlee this past weekend. And that little spark grew into wildfire and I watched a bunch of videos. That was my downfall. I never should have done that. I can't get the image of him licking his bass out of my mind. OK. Maybe its because I took a screen shot of it and played with it a little. Like this:Ooooooh. Three Peteys.

I stopped myself from watching everything possible, for my own sanity and because its creepy, but here are two videos that he does it in. *Sigh* That Ashlee is a lucky, lucky girl and I really hope they are very happy.

Dance, Dance


This next one is a remake of MJ's "Beat It" (with a bonus appearance by Dr. Turk! Woo!)


Yeah. I've noticed Pete dreams a lot in videos. And real life. And writes about it. So if anyone wants to get me his book for my birthday I'm sure I will still appreciate it by the time September rolls around. Unless I have another embarrassing-to-my-children crush by then.

Like Icky Sticky Sands Through the Hourglass

The inmates were running the asylum last night as SSB is out of town this week. Again. No one did anything particularly unusual or worse than they ever do, but it was all the little things piling up on me one grain of sand at a time.

Beeman threw a screaming fit about dinner as usual and chose to sleep instead of eat as usual. Snickety chose to go outside and play instead of do his chores as usual meaning when bedtime rolled around he didn't have his stuff done.

Taz tormented me with his constant barrage of pleas to play Xbox, his one and only true love. Pootie Pie obsessed over getting a guinea pig even though her gerbil is not yet dead, much to her disgust.

Bunny screamed NO at everyone and tried to slam the door in their face whenever they wanted to come in the house. She stood there like a London guard, very committed but much less stoic.

My saving grace, Bugaboo, was at work like always and they talked her into staying late like always so I had check up on her and see why she wasn't home an hour after she should have been.

And throughout the night one spot on the floor kept getting wet and sticky. Pootie wiped it up. I wiped it up. I mopped it. I hate dirty sticky floors, especially unworldly, reoccurring sticky floors that mysteriously regenerate themselves. I kept looking for Slimer to come swooping down at me.

Today, after mopping a few more times and still stepping on a sticky mess, I found the source: one of Bunny's abandoned juice boxes in the pantry. That is her juice box graveyard, like the drawer under the oven is her hot dog graveyard.

After a long afternoon and evening of struggle I headed to my lonely bed only to be welcomed by a pile of sand on the bedspread. Bunny loves her sandbox and has sand in all her cracks and crevices after playing. Her changing table is gritty with it from it falling out of her diaper, but this was more sand than would be in a diaper. It was my turn to throw a fit and Pootie grabbed a hand held vacuum and sprayed it around the room for me. I tried to get them all to confess to no avail. I gave up and read them a story and tried to go to bed again. This time there was an even bigger pile UNDER the covers. I am pretty sure someone did it on purpose. Someone who thinks the term/name Sandy Cheeks is funny. Now I just have to figure out who so I can dole out the appropriate torture.