Pay It Forward Contest

Since Hurricane Gustav has foiled my New Orleans plans, I'm off to good ole' Austin. 6th street, Cedar St. Bar, Lake Travis, food, food, food, food! Hope everyone has a fun and safe holiday weekend!!!!


Since I won Fiona Picklebottom's PiF contest, it is now time for me to host my PiF II. Leave me a comment between now and Monday at 11pm (Central time), and the lovely random number generator will pick a winner soon after. I will probably announce on Tuesday.

So, here's what I want to know (wait for it.....):

Did you hear about this story? Someone won the lottery, and put the winning ticket in the offering plate at their church. The church will be getting at least $100,000 a year through 2028!! How cool is that??
So, this is what I want to know--If you were to win the lottery, what nice, unselfish, giving thing would you do with the money?


2nd post of the day! But only to give you another update

I guess I could have just edited my other post, huh?

Anyway, I forgot to mention this bit of news this week:

The ladies at 3Giraffes were nice enough to include me in their award-giving on Monday! How sweet are they?? I've seen this award floating around on other blogs, and I do appreciate receiving it! Thanks ladies!!!

Because Moo is oh-so right!

Moo over at Moo's Moo said that everyone needs updates, because we all love closure, and I do believe she is right. So! I think I need to update you lovely people on some things because I know you care. (And as a little sidenote, check out Moo's blog today. She is trying to come up with baby names for her upcoming special delivery, and it is sooo fun to come up with names! Help a girl out!)

1. I accidently left you hanging at the end of my last post, and I really didn't intend to. What happened when I called the ASPCA? Well, first off, it took like 2 weeks for them to come out, because there was only one investigator assigned to my county and the county next to me. And let me tell you, it's all country, so I can only imagine how busy the poor guy was! But, when he did finally visit, he made them sell a couple of their horses. And all of a sudden, every day or so, my stupid neighbors would appear out of thin air, and bring hay and fresh water. But then they were told to sell the donkeys, unless they wanted them to be taken away. Of course, this all happened AFTER I moved, so I found out from my normal neighbor. How well they care for the remaining animals now, I couldn't tell you, because I've only been out there once, and I was too heartbroken over the state of my old home to even notice the animals across the street. But that's another story.

2. In this post, I asked you guys to guess what I was doing with all that fabric. One person guessed that I was making outfits for my daughter's little monkey, Cookiebutt. NOPE! Someone else asked if I was going into business. Fun, but NOPE! Making reusable grocery bags? Good idea, but NOPE! Making a bag for her? Nice try, but NOPE!
The real answer is this, and pictures are to follow: I made some wallart for my daughter's room, using large canvases, and stretching the fabric across. I also made smaller ones for my friend's playroom. I still have 2 large throw pillows to make pillowcases for, which will also go in my friend's playroom. I also am still in the process of making some cute curtains with yellow gerber daisies sewn onto them. Hard to explain without pictures, but I swear, I'll get there.

3. That beautiful orchid I bought during that weekend shopping spree? Yeah, uh, within a week of it getting comfortable in my bedroom, all the blossoms started to wilt. Right now, it has not.one.single.flower. Sigh. So I have a healthy, green, plant. Weeee.

4. The continuing saga of the bugs in my house: No scorpions since the one that stung my husband, but the ants? Oh holy hell. I'm about to lose my frickin' mind. And they are fire ants, not sugar ants. Figure that one out, will ya?
If you follow me on Twitter (jeez, I still can't believe I fell in that hole), you probably saw my Twit/Tweet about how 4 million ants had moved into my pantry while I was at work last week, and ate my Kashi cookies. And how I hoped they would all explode from the cookies. Oh, they also took over my cereal, my crackers, and my flour. (WTF?)
Well, I thought I killed them all. Then yesterday morning, I found about 20 random ants on one of my shelves in the pantry. I killed them and again tried to figure out how the hell 20 ants could just appear in my pantry, which is in the middle of the house, nowhere near a door or window. Where the hell are you fuckers coming from????
Yesterday I got home from work to find my loaf of bread covered in ants. In the pantry, of course. How did they even get in the bag? Just typing this is getting me all itchy and goosebump-y. Ick Ick Ick.
So I again attacked them, and cleaned my pantry.
Got home from boot camp, and on the next shelf up, with all the tin foil, plastic wrap, ziplock bags, and a random canister with peanuts and pistachios in it--about 4 million ants.
Seriously, I thought my head was going to explode in the middle of my kitchen. I don't even know what to do with myself! Where are they coming from????

5. My trip to New Orleans this weekend: Damn you, Hurricane Gustav!! I am not quite sure what my friend and I were thinking when we planned a trip to the hurricane destination of the country, at the beginning of hurricane season, but I'm pretty sure we were just so ready for a damn break that our tired minds just saw the opportunity to sleep, eat, read, and drink without kids. So, uh, anyone watch the news lately? Gustav is headed for my vacation spot! So, we had to cancel our reservations, and now we are going to Austin, which will still provide us with ample opportunities to sleep, eat, read, and drink without our kids, thank you sweet Jesus. Even though it's still in the state, and not as interesting-sounding as New Orleans, we would prefer not to get stuck in the Astrodome.

6. My trip to New York??? Yeah......well, our free flight vouchers are uh, not really an option. I don't even have the patience to explain why. And the tickets to any of the games during the weekend we wanted to go? Oh, how about $400+ per ticket? Shit. Now the possible plan is to go in October, and just go on a tour of the stadium, before they shut it down. I would absolutely love to see the Yankees play, but we had planned on spending the money on the game tickets, not the game tickets and the flight there. Boooooooo.

7. My younger bro did indeed move in with me. I am so excited to have him around. He makes me laugh every day, and I feel so much better knowing that he is eating on a regular basis (and more than just the $1 menu at Wendy's and McDonald's).

8. Fresca and Tequila? Absolutely tasty!!!

9. My shingles? Well, I finally don't look like I slept in poison ivy. I've still got some patches on my legs, but nothing like before. However, I still itch. And itch.

10. My little sidebar over there --------------> tells you that I have had my nose stuck in the same damn books for like 6 months. Which isn't true. I just intended to give you some reviews of the books, and well, I was busy. So, for those of you who asked:
  • The Year of Fog: I loved the raw emotion of this book. My heart was in my throat while reading the majority of this book. I didn't even want to put myself in the main character's shoes. Although, I would like to think that I would be as determined and motivated as she was, to find the little girl. I was glued to the story, and stayed up way too late each night to finish it. My only complaint?-There were several chapters of the character's misery over losing the child, and how she must.find.the.child., and it got to be a bit excessive. I found myself thinking, "Okay, I get the damn point already! You lost the kid, you are feeling guilty and awful about it, and you want to find her." Sheesh. But all in all, I would recommend this book to anyone looking for some hope. (And as a side note, I did recommend this book to several fellow bloggers this summer, and apparently, the author of the book saw my comment to Shamelessly Sassy, and sent her next book to Shamelessly Sassy AND ME! I haven't read it yet, but I was all 'Sqeeeeeeeeee! I got a free book!')
  • Such a Pretty Fat: This is the first Jen Lancaster book I read, after going to her book signing and meeting her. I loved it! She is so snarky and sassy, and I love her honesty. I definitely recommend this book to anyone looking for a good laugh, and also some motivation if you are looking to start exercising or eat healthier.
  • Missing Mom: I started it, but haven't finished it, because I got all wrapped up in:
  • Keeping Faith: I literally thought about skipping work to finish this book! Too bad I work for my husband. Damn it. This book is just fabulous! I don't want to give anything away, but I guarantee you will like this book! My only complaint was that I didn't really feel like there was enough closure at the end. I wanted a little more explained to me. But overall, love this book.

I'm reading some other really phenomenal books right now, and I'll try to be better about giving you my oh-so-informed opinion on them.

11. School just might kick my ass this semester. I've got 3 classes, but each professor apparently thinks his/her class is my only class, because holy hell! The papers! I've got papers and interviews and presentations looming over my head! So, I'm telling you this not to get sympathy, because I want to be in school, but to let you know that my postings might be sporadic for awhile. I know, I know, you are oh-so sad about this bit of news. But there are other awesome blogs you could read. Please come back though..???

12. And finally! (How many of you actually made it to the end of this boring-ass post??) Since I won Fiona Picklebottom's last Pay it Forward Contest, I need to host my PiF II contest soon! So, make sure you check back.......I'll be putting it up today or tomorrow, for sure!!


The saga of Springtown continues

My neighbors across the street were...weird. I don't really know how else to explain it.

The husband drove a cab. He was short, squatty, and pretty large. He apparently didn't know what deodorant was. He wore overalls, with one strap undone. The wife 'took care' of her horses and donkeys. I think she had some sort of job, because she was gone at odd hours. She apparently didn't know what deodorant was either. She wore skimpy little tank tops, cut off jeans, and cowboy boots. No bra. Sweet as can be, but uh, pretty country? They had teen boys, that I would hear screaming at one another during the day. They had like 12 dogs, who somehow never came over to my property (Thank God! Kooter would have had a fit, and that would not have been pretty!). They had ducks, but after a few weeks, their pond dried up, and the ducks flew over to one of my ponds. The wife sunbathed in a large water trough that the horses and donkeys drank out of.

They lived in a rundown trailer. It was a mess. The roof was covered in old tires. The porch had little twinkle lights all over it, but the steps were all broken. They pulled up the siding near the bottom of the trailer, so the dogs had somewhere 'dry and shady' to sleep. And they never put their trash out to the curb. It was behind the trailer, in this little shed thing that was barely standing. They told me the AC quit working, so they had the windows and door open all hours of the day and night. I could hear everything. And sometimes the donkeys went in the trailer. I kid you not. I don't think I have photographic proof, and now the thing doesn't exist, so, you'll just have to trust me on this one. More on this trailer later.

For now, let me tell you about the animals. There were 4 or 5 horses, and 4 donkeys. The horses were gorgeous, and all females. They were constantly fighting to be the alpha female, but they were so sweet and kind-hearted to my girl and I (once she was born).

The lone male donkey was named Paco. And he answered to it. And he was the horniest donkey I've ever seen. He was kicked many times by all the females, because he just couldn't take 'no' for an answer. But he was sweet.

Here's an interesting fact about donkeys: They don't like to be alone. They are social creatures, and they look for affection and companionship. If they don't get it, they bray. A lot. And since none of the females were interested in him, alllll we heard was braying. At noon. At 6pm. At 2am. At 6am. I used to actually open the door and tell him to shut up. It was pitiful.
A few times a week, I walked across the road to their property line. I brought apples, carrots, and sometimes parsley. They bit each other to get to me. They let me pet them, kiss their noses, and brush their manes. They even let my girl put her little fist in their noses, on more than one occasion.

Over time, these neighbors got weirder. They sorta disappeared. They would seemingly be gone for days or weeks at a time, and then show up at 3am, stomping, slamming car doors, yelling, whistling to their remaining animals. The dogs all wandered off, or died; I'm not sure. The trailer was near the end of my house where my bedroom was, and it became common for me to be wide awake, listening to them in the middle of the night.

During this time, the animals got thin. Really thin. Painfully so. Hipbones and collarbones showing. They ate every square inch of hay, grass, and even weeds on the 10 or so acres they had. Sometimes I would drive by on my way home from work, and find that someone had dropped off some hay. More times than not, though, they went hungry. So hungry, in fact, that they started eating their own crap. That's a very bad sign, let me tell you.

I began buying bags of apples and carrots on a daily basis. I also bought a salt block, and small square bales of hay, which I threw over the fence. One of the horses broke her leg, and it became infected. People started slowing down as they drove by, to check out the animals.

I realized that I could not save these animals. I called the ASPCA.


Celebrity Boy Crush

To be fair, I had to mention the men I drool over. (And for the few men who read my blog, I give you this: go here & drool ).
This is so very hard, and I'm not sure I can limit myself. Gah. Oh, and I already had the idea, but this lovely lady also did something similar. I swear she's my twin because we apparently have the same taste in hot famous men.

So, in no particular order, here are the men that I could think of while straining to concentrate:

Oscar de la Hoya Justin Furstenfeld (lead singer of Blue October)

LL Cool J Johnny Knoxville

Common Wentworth Miller

Tiger Woods Patrick Dempsey

Paul Walker Jude Law

Justin Timberlake Colin Farrell

Oh.my. I normally say that a man's body is not all that beautiful, when compared to the beauty of a woman's body, but these guys definitely give the ladies a run for their money.

Up next: Men's voices that I lurve. Mmmmmm.


Music Lover Monday

I had this great post about 'Make out' songs, and POOF! It disappeared. Sigh.

So, instead of trying to recreate the fabulousness that was my post, this is what you get.

I have a free trial of Sirius in my Jeep, and so far, I haven't really jumped into satellite radio. But this morning, I randomly decided to listen to 'Shady 45', which is hip hop, and two songs in a row almost made me swerve off the road head-first into a tree.

I like hip hop, rap, and R&B, for the most part. I marvel at the lyrics, the rhymes, the rhythms. There are some complete geniuses in this part of the music industry. Check out Common, or Ludacris, Busta, or Lil' Wayne. Their lyrics are just genius and I am in awe sometimes.

I would also have to say that not all of it is quality. Some of it sucks. Some of it makes me cringe, at the ignorance, the racism, the bad lyrics.

And as much as I love these two artists, I would have to say I was cringing when I heard these songs this morning. Check them out, but I give you fair warning: Neither of them are suitable for work, or around kids!

Ice Cube-A Gangsta's Fairytale


OMG. They are just vulgar! And I feel like an old hag saying the word vulgar, but there's no other way to describe them! Yet, somehow, I still love these two men, as artists. Figure that one out.

Any vulgar songs you can't even stand to listen to?


Food for thought

I read this article yesterday, which I am pilfering from this fabulous writer. If you don't already have a staggering Google Reader count, I urge you to go through her archives (as I am trying to do!), and catch a load of her beautiful words. AM.SO.JEALOUS.

Ahem. Anyway.

This article really brought to the surface a lot of feelings and memories that I often don't take notice of in my wayward jam-packed brain.

My father was an aeronautical engineer. Besides the decent salary came the ever-present possibility of being laid off. Forgive the timeline inaccuracies here.....I am not certain when each thing began, ended, and overlapped. I just know that these are things that happened.

After the tragedy of losing my foster brother, my mother began her college degree. She also became pregnant with my brother. Somewhere in all that, my father was laid off for the first time.

We did the normal 'cutting back' things--no dinners out, no unnecessary purchases, no name brand food, no going out to the movies, no beer in the house, etc. We had a vegetable garden in our backyard, so that helped. We didn't water the lawn as much, we didn't drive to the park as often (we walked), we became more conscious of turning the lights off. And when it got cold, my dad had a constant fire going in our fireplace in the living room. We also didn't go on a summer vacation, but honestly, it was okay. My mother did a great job at making everything 'an adventure', and I didn't feel as though I was 'going without' or 'unlucky' or anything. It just was what it was.
Life went on as it normally did, despite these changes. My father learned how to apply for unemployment, which was stressful. He started painting houses, and doing other minor construction jobs, all while searching for another job that would use his degree.

After awhile, my mother got a job waitressing and bartending. She had done this in the past, when my parents were first married, and my father was in college. This helped us get through each month, and as far as I know, we made all our bills.

At some point, summer arrived. We kept the windows open longer than usual in this Texas heat, but we cooled off in our above ground pool. We hung our laundry out to dry, rather than use the dryer. I remember helping my mom hang the sheets in the mornings.

At some point, the pantry got pretty bare. The heat, stress, frustration, and anguish seemed to take hold of our house, smothering us. I sought refuge in the pool, in the shade of my father's trees. I also hid in my books. My mother sought hers in her friends at work, or in the garden. My father sought his in any manual labor he could find. All the unspoken thoughts and feelings seemed to hang in the air between my parents. Things, as a child, I was not able to understand.

I'm not sure when, but at some point I became painfully aware of the fact that our meals were smaller. But I will tell you right now, that I have no recollection of ever going hungry.

One morning, several bags of groceries showed up on our front porch. Another morning, an envelope of cash materialized in our mailbox. Sometimes we would come home to a bag of fast food on our porch. Neighbors brought over casseroles. My mom went to a local food bank, and came back with a box of food. Then she broke out her mother's cookbooks, and learned to make meals with different ingredients.

We survived. And I am not ashamed to say that we took handouts. We accepted help. My parents did what they had to do to make sure I was fed. They busted their asses, and at some point, that wasn't enough. Did we end up losing our house? No. Did we eat at a soup kitchen? No. Were we late on bills, did we steal from one to pay the other? I'm sure we did.

Once my father was rehired by the same company that laid him off in the first place, things went back to the way they were. Mostly. I've learned that things are never exactly the same. I wasn't afraid I would go hungry. Nor was I afraid we would lose our house. I just had this nagging little feeling deep in my chest, that things within our family had been changed forever.

We spent holidays at the area soup kitchen, preparing and serving food to the homeless and hungry. We donated boxes of food to the same food bank we had borrowed from. I later volunteered there while in high school. We went back to helping Kurdish refugees from our church.

My friend and I were chatting about how we 'went without' when we were growing up, after we both read this article. And how now, we seem to take for granted the fact that we have the ability to go to three different grocery stores to find 'the perfect dessert', or to go to a farmer's market for fresher produce. We have freezers and pantries full of essentials and frivolous food alike. And we still go out to eat. More than once a week. We are so very lucky.

I want to take this further by saying that I am willing to 'go without' some of my frivolous food extras (like having 4 different kinds of ice cream in the freezer at once!), to help the area food bank. I will continue to buy the healthy food I buy for my family, and a few of my girl's favorite little snacks, but I am going to start stocking up on necessities to donate. I think it's only right for me to 'pay it forward' and help others, as my family was helped back then.


Drawn like a moth to light

When we took my girl to the local carnival a couple of weekends ago, I was instantly propelled into social worker mode. I really try not to do this, but it just seems to come naturally. It’s like I have this little radar that seeks out the concerning things going on with little kids. I don’t know.
We were waiting in line for the little Teacups, when I noticed a young mom with two little girls. I’m guessing they were maybe 1 and 3? They were both little, skinny, and the 1 year old was missing a shoe. She appeared happy enough in the stroller though.
The 3 year old? Not so happy. She was pulling on her mother’s leg, whining, crying, and jumping up and down. The mother? Crying.
Radar-ON. Worry-almost full force.

The mom picked the 3 year old up, but was not really paying attention to her. You could tell she was waiting on someone, with tears streaming down her cheeks. Her shirt was dirty, I could see her bra, and her pants were hanging down.

I kept watching as my girl and I got on the teacups. When we got off, I didn’t see her, and thought maybe my radar had been off.

About 20 minutes later, my girl and I were on the Ferris wheel with a friend and her son. I looked down, and saw that my mother and sister had arrived. And my mother was holding that 3 year old girl. And talking to the woman, who was still crying.

Radar-Back ON. Worry-full force.

When I got off the Ferris wheel, my mother had just set the girl in the back of the double stroller with her little sister. She finished her conversation, and walked up to me. She told me that the mother had picked the 3 year old up by one arm, and that she saw the mom crying, and it really bugged her, so she just walked up to her and asked her if she was okay. Apparently, the mom had come with her friend, who also has a 3 year old, and her friend kept ditching her with the stroller and their purses, so she couldn’t take her daughters on any rides. Also, she had spent $10 in tickets. She was clearly upset. My mom offered to watch the younger girl and the stuff so the lady could take her 3 year old on some rides (do you see where I get this social worker radar thing?). The lady declined, sort of, and seemed a bit ‘off’. Overwhelmed, depressed, anxious, stressed? Not sure. All of us, as parents, get that way. And if you are young, with little or no support, with little or no money, I guess it could cause you to cry in public. I don’t know. But I understand the feeling of desperation, and it bugged me.

I saw them several times while we were there. My heart ached for her. I wasn’t trying to be nosey or rude; I just couldn’t stop worrying about her, about the things desperate people can do in desperate situations, to their children.

At one point, she was in line for a ride. I was waiting for my girl to get off that ride. All of a sudden, the 3 year old was at my feet, holding her arms up to me. I glanced at her mother, who was looking off somewhere else. I picked her up. She was light as a feather, and just so petite. I asked her what her name was, and she told me. I chatted with her for a few minutes, and she responded well, smiling, laughing, and engaging in the conversation. My social worker hat was on tight-I was basically assessing her, without meaning to. The thing that bothered me, besides the fact that she walked up to a total stranger, and volunteered her name, and the fact that her mother wasn’t even paying attention, was this: This little girl was clinging to me, and cried when I put her down.

I won’t say that the rest of the evening was ruined for me, because it wasn’t. I had fun with everyone there. But my mother and husband had to pretty much drag me to the other side of the grounds, because I was so compelled to go over to that mother and ask her what I could do to help.

My husband is not that type of person. He doesn’t ‘get involved’ very often. Not to say that he isn’t one of the most generous men I have ever met. But he doesn’t always understand this need, desire, necessity I have to ‘get involved’ and ‘help’.

That night, while my house slept, I sat in a chair in the dark, and spent the better part of 2 hours praying for that mother and her little girls. I felt bad that I had not asked her if she needed help. Maybe she just needed a break. Another mom to talk to. A friend. A nap. And honestly, it would not have taken any effort for me to provide any of those things to her. If any of those things would have eased her frustration, pain, stress, whatever, and stopped her from ‘going too far’ with her kids, it would be worth it. If a rest would have made her feel better, like she could attend to her children’s needs with more love and affection, it would be worth it. I have seen too much neglect, unnecessary roughness, physical abuse, and emotional abuse, to think that I was reading too much into the situation.

Things like this compel me to take a deep breath when my girl is driving me to insanity. To hurry up and get my master’s degree so I can go back to helping. To pray that there is someone else out there, besides me, who will get involved and do something, with a compassionate heart and a kind word.


Boot Camp Update-Woohoo!

I finally got my results. I am so proud of myself!!!

As I mentioned before, I shaved over a minute off of my mile. Love it!

Fat Mass Change: I lost 11.92 lbs. of fat!

Lean Mass Change: I gained 13.52 lbs. of muscle!

Body Fat: I dropped 9.09%!! I still have a lonnnnnnggggg way to go, but this is great progress! I'm now at 33.39% body fat.

Visceral fat: Still 4

Body's age: Still 37, but I feel stronger, healthier, better.

Inches: I lost 1/4 of an inch at my chest, nothing at my waist (Boooo!), nothing at my biceps (Booooo! again), 1/4 of an inch at my hips, and a 1/4 of an inch at my thigh. Was hoping for more, but...

I start the next 4 week session this evening. I'm hoping to gain more muscle, burn more fat, and shave more time off my mile. I am also desperately hoping to feel my clothes fitting differently (i.e. LOOSE!)

Music Lover Monday-Songs on the radio that I can't stand

So, it's only fair for me to tell you what songs annoy the shit out of me right now, right??

1. Bleeding Love by Leona Lewis (MAKE IT STOP! It's making my brain bleed. And my ears.)

2. Pocketful of Sunshine by Natasha Bedingfield (normally I like her, but this song? I just want to stab myself with a pocketful of pencils. Or forks.)

3. Realize by Colbie Caillat (oh gah. I just realized that you annoy the living shit out of me with your whining!)

4. All Summer Long by Kid Rock (I love this guy, but something about this song just gets at me.)

I'm sure there are more, but I tend to channel surf as soon as I hear any of these. Also, I've been listening to the CDs this guy sent me.

So, what songs annoy the shit out of you?


They eventually grow up and move out

The calves that survived that winter grew to be strong and beautiful. They were still nursing, but they were much more interested in the salt blocks and feed we put out, and also the hay. It was great to watch them being curious around the ponds, and when it started to warm up, they would attempt to walk into the water to cool off. They still let me touch them, and they would follow me around the pasture when I went walking. They all decided to ignore my dogs, since one of them just barked, and the other just wanted to eat their shit (stupid dog!).

Once they were weaned, it was time for them to go. I try not to think of where they went exactly, because I know the rancher that we bought them from, and he was coming to get them. Whether he took them to market for butchering, or just to sell, I don't know. It was a sad day to see them go, and I actually did cry. NO one would tell me where they were going, since they knew I had grown a bit attached (not batshit crazy attached, but I cared about them!).

My "job" that day was to keep the moms busy, once the rancher and his guys had separated the moms from the babies. How the hell do you keep a fucking cow busy, when all she cares about is the fact that her baby is getting on a trailer, and she is not??? I don't know. I put out feed, and, I will admit, I talked to them.
"It will be okay. You took great care of your baby. It's time to let her go."
(Go ahead and roll your eyes, but seriously!!!??)

The babies wailed. The moms mooooooo-ed. And they actually cried. I've never heard it before, and I can't explain it, but it was this desperate, intense, deep-chested moo. And a few of them actually went hoarse. (no pun intended)

That night, all we heard was mooing, wailing, crying. And then, it started to rain.
And rain.
The cows ran from one edge of the property to another, in the pouring down rain. And mooed and wailed. It was heart wrenching, and we got very little sleep.
The next morning, it was still raining.
It rained so much that day, that our town actually flooded, the two main roads were shut down, and the news helicopters were flying over all the flooded ranches in the area.
My ladies, as I had dubbed them, had about a 20x20ft area that was not under water. The dam of the big pond almost broke, and the back pond reached all the way across all 23 acres that day.
My ladies stood in that 20x20 foot area, and cried. For two more days.

I was stuck home, due to the roads being closed, and it's all I heard. That 3rd day, I finally went outside, in the rain, and sat on the edge of the trailer. They came up to me, and I seriously had a heart-to-heart with them:
I told them that they had to stop this crying stuff. That they would have more babies. That their babies were okay. That I seriously needed some rest, and for cripe's sake, could they stop?

That night, not only did it stop raining (for a day), but they stopped wailing. It was quiet, and we all slept.


When she was fixed

Not long after moving to Springtown, the dogs did leave our property, but they didn't go near the crazy neighbors and their blessed chickens. They loved to roam around our ponds, and Daisy loved to eat the cows' shit. How gross is that? (I told you the girl has issues, and it's not just the rat poison. )
Anyway, one day I went out on the front porch to call the dogs in. I hadn't seen them in awhile, and I know by now if they are quiet and stealthily, we have a problem.
I called and called, and no answer.
I went out in the pasture, walked along the dam of one of the ponds, and yelled again.
Within a couple of minutes, Kooter showed up behind me. He seemed innocent enough, so I started calling for Daisy.
I actually had to walk in circles, scanning every inch of the property, because she is blondish/yellowish/reddish, and tends to blend in with the hay. Lovely.
All of a sudden I spot her at my other neighbor's house. With one of their dogs.
Male dogs.
A male dog who is allegedly a blood hound, but looks like a freakin' beagle. Squatty legs. Floppy ears. Dumb as hell.
And guess what this dumb dog is doing???
You guessed it- Humping Daisy.

I got her attention, and got her back to the house. She was not fixed. I started covering the holes under the fence so she couldn't get to her damn boyfriend. Yet, every day, she would somehow disappear.
This went on for about 2 weeks, and my neighbor came by one day, laughing about how we were 'going to have cute puppies'. Uh, NO. Can you imagine?? Blood hound and yellow lab, neither apparently the sharp tool in the shed??? Oh, HELL no.
That evening, she snuck back under the fence, all sweaty.
The next morning, I called the vet and made an appt. to have her fixed.
When she returned back from the vet, she was a mess. She couldn't walk, she was all doped up, and she was sore. She slept a lot. She didn't even try to get down on her belly and crawl under the fence to her boyfriend. He came to visit once, but Kooter growled at him and he left, tail between his legs, big ears bouncing in the wind.
Her incision got infected. It was a bad deal. She had a seizure. She bled all over the floor.
She gained weight. Lots of it.

When she finally recovered, she was too chunky to squeeze under the fence, or around the edge of the gate.

I had won this battle.
But that's when it got more interesting.


Welcome to Hell

Every day I ask my girl what she did at school. Usually, the answer is somewhere between 'We, we, uh, we uh, went outside, and Baby Trace ate rocks, and uh, and uh' and 'I played dress-up and stole the stroller from Paige, and she made a frowny face at me like this'.

(Just so you know: that is a fake frown, and yes, she is flipping me off, but she doesn't know it. She wanted me to show her ripped cuticle (cudilcle) and proceeded to flip me off. I laughed, and said, 'Awww, make a sad face for me'. And out came the fake frown, which looks just like the frown she says her friend Paige gives her).

About 6 months ago, I started to hear her talk about how they play dress-up, and feed their babies, and GASP!-They play with Barbies! So I knew eventually she would be asking for Barbies.

She did.

And she got about 12 for her birthday.

Oh, yes she did.

Now, every day, this is the extent of our conversations:

My girl: "Momma, where's my barbie's green shoes?"

Me: "Honey, I don't' know. Go look in the pink basket in your closet."

My girl: running down the hallway, " M'kay!"

4.5 seconds later: "Mommy, I can't find it! HELLLLLLLLLLLLLLP me!!!"

Me: Sigh. "M'kay!"

And then I proceed to rummage through two baskets of Barbie shoes, bathing suits, brushes, sunglasses, cell phones, purses, coffee cups, magazines...you get my drift. And it never fails-I can never find the 2nd shoe that she is looking for. Grrrr.

Yes, that's a scuba Barbie, complete with fins and 2 dolphins that go in the bathtub with her. Oh, yes, that is the latest Barbie convertible car, in a lovely lavender. And, you guessed it!-That's a dog and her three little puppies, complete with bowls, bones, and the ability to wet themselves. No, really.

This isn't even all of it. This is just what I could keep her from touching long enough to photograph.

Welcome to Hell.


Because no one really wants to read a bitchy post

All of a sudden, I have gone from happy to oh-so frustrated with things. All in a couple of hours' time. Amazing huh? What's that you say? Medication? No, just more patience.
You really don't want to hear me rant about my dogs, and how I flipped both of them off tonight any time they even so much as looked in my direction. Because I love getting puked on, and I love when my dog then decides to do a sit-n-spin maneuver in the middle of it, and skids across the floor, trying to get outside. Oh, I love dog puke all over myself. Know what I love even more? When what the dog has puked is something she never should have eaten in the first place. Like, say, an autographed Texas Rangers picture from way back when they were a decent team, and an empty deodorant stick, and an used pull-up.
How about the big-ass steroid shot I got in my ass (oh, imagine that!) yesterday, and the fact that steroids have always made me stark-raving HUNGRY AS HELL. I just want to consume everything, at any time (except pictures, pull-ups, and empty deodorant sticks).
How about after said steroid shot, and the first of many installments of oral steroids, I.am.still.itchy.and irritated.

Oh, yeah, the positive stuff:

-I believe my brother is moving back here. And will probably be living with me. I.cannot.wait. We do fun stuff, like throw water balloons at unsuspecting runners & bike riders. We stay up all night to play Mario Cart, or the original Nintendo. I love him. This makes me want to jump up and down and SQUEEEEEE!

-I just bought Blackberry Cobbler ice cream. It is delicious. Don't care that it doesn't help me lose weight, or that it's full of sugar and carbs and FAT. It's lovely. That's all.

-I am going to New Orleans in exactly 18 days! Woohoo! Yummy food awaits me! And drinks. lots of drinks. and sleep not interrupted by a very sweet 3 year old saying 'Momma, your hair is all crazy when you sleep'. And lots of dancing, which I hope works off the calories of the drinks and food. Gumbo. MMMMmmmmm.

-Fresca and tequila. Someone told me about this, and tequila is my best friend, but I get pretty sick of having to drink it in margaritas, or straight. This sounds like it is sip-able. mmmmm. gonna try it out this week, I hope.

-Jodi Picoult's book 'Keeping Faith'. I just started it, and seriously, this is my thought process every night: 'Sleep? Read? Blog? Olympics? Sleep? READ!' It is sooo good!

-I am super proud of this one, and sooo excited!: I was awarded a fellowship for school today! I just applied for it a week ago! And I really didn't know what my chances were, but here it is! I got it! woohoo!!!

-I get to go buy books for class this week. And school supplies. And go to Olive Garden with my good friend Kristy. Weee!

-This is probably the best of all: I am going on a weekend trip to NYC, to see the Yankees play in the stadium b4 they tear it down! Is that not awesome??? It is for me, because that has always been something I wanted to do. Of course, I don't have plane tickets yet, nor game tickets, nor a hotel. That's part of the frustrating shit I'm not gonna blog about. So. yeah.

How about this lame post? I promise I'll be back with the thought-provoking, or funny, or whatever. It's just not happenin' tonight, guys!


Music Lover Monday-New Songs I (pink puffy) heart

I've got some great posts in my head, but I've got a lot going on right now, so this is what you get until things calm down a bit. In the meantime, I have decided that since music is so important to me, and is really part of who I am, that I am going to share music stuff with you at least 2 Mondays a month. It might be songs I love, songs I hate, a genre that I adore, voices I love, or whatever.

Here are some new songs I absolutely turn up and sing my lungs out in my Jeep. I also hear them in my sleep, and wake up humming them:

1. A Milli by Lil' Wayne (I love this freakin' song!!!)
2. Love Remains The Same by Gavin Rossdale (swooooon)( I am a sucker for songs that speak to my heart)
3. Handlebars by The Flobots (Must.get.this.song.downloaded)
4. Mercy-Duffy (it's my ringtone right now)
5. I kissed a Girl-Katy Perry (I get the whole controversy about this song, but it's so catchy and just great! Read into it what you will)
6. I'm Yours by Jason Mraz (reminds me of Jack Johnson)
7. Viva La Vida by Coldplay (this song just makes me happy. the melody is gorgeous)
8. Fall for You by Secondhand Serenade (Awesome to me that the lead singer wrote the song to his wife)
9. I will possess your heart by Death cab for Cutie (LOVE this song!)

What songs are you digging right now?


Weekend words

I asked you guys who was in on my anonymous guest posting, and I am happy to have several people interested! One problem-I didn't ask for your email addresses! So! If you want to do an anonymous post, please email me at dlwinkler(at)msn(dot)com and I will get it all organized.
I'm thinking maybe you should just email me the post you want to use, and I'll email it to someone else in our little group, and let you know whose blog your post will show up on. Is this too complicated? Then, when I email you a post to put on your own blog, just let me know when you plan on posting it, so I can let the author know. Whew. I haven't even done it yet, and I'm already tired! But: Squeeeeee!!

I finished boot camp! Woohooo! It was a great last workout, except for the fact that my shingles are out of control and I itched until I bled the whole hour. For those of you who want to yell at me, YES, for the love of all that is holy, I am going to the doctor next week. I just can't take it anymore. I was tempted to post pictures, but I figured that was too much info., or I might scare a few of you away. It's pretty nasty. In fact, my hubby would agree! Only my sweet girl isn't disgusted-this morning she said, out of nowhere, "Mommy, you're so pretty". How sweet is that???
Don't have numbers to post yet on the results from my boot camp. Should have them by the end of the weekend though, and I will be happy to share them. I can tell you this though: I shaved 1:17 off of my mile! Squeeeee!
I've decided to join the next boot camp, which starts on the 18th, so I've got a week to get these shingles the hell outta dodge.


The saga of the scorpion continues at my house. My husband was stung at least twice this morning!!!! ON HIS FACE AND CHEST! He put a shirt on, which was hanging in our closet, and it was IN THE SHIRT! This is how I woke up at 6:45 this morning:

Hubby: "Hey! Hey!"
Me: "Whaa?"
Hubby: "I just got stung by a scorpion. On my face."
Me: "Whaa? What? What the hell? ARE YOU OKAY? WHERE? WHERE IS IT? OMG."

And then I proceeded to get out of bed with the sheet wrapped around my legs (to keep me from scratching the shingles on my legs in my sleep), almost busted my ass, and tried to make sense of what he had just said to me. I walked into the bathroom, where he was trying to scope out his shirt laying on the floor. He beat the hell out of it with a fly swatter (Thank you for that invention!), flushed it, and then proceeded to get on the Internet to see if we should be concerned. Ha. Us? Concerned?

Apparently he is okay, because it's about 10:15pm, and he's still alive. And his face is normal-looking. And his chest is fine. And he's breathing. And being his usual shit self. But me? I am a bit frantic. I've been turning every light on in every little area of the house today, scanning the floor before I walk, and avoiding my closet. I shook out every blanket and checked my girl's bed at bedtime tonight. And I've taken itchy to a whole 'nother level. Ack.


Twitter Bitterness

I am so not into Twitter. Oh wait-let me re-phrase that: I think I would SOOOO be into Twitter if I took the time to learn it. But I just can't bring myself to do that! I already have enough shit going on in my life. I don't need any guilt that I'm lagging behind on my Twits or Tweets, or whatever. But I want to join soooo bad. Ridiculous, huh?

So, since I don't Twit/Tweet, I'll give you a rundown of things I would be twitting/tweeting this week, if I did in fact Twit/Tweet:

* Are you kidding me? How do 95 year old grandmas who can't see over the steering wheel even get a license?

* Sigh.....why is having a husband like having another child to raise?

* Move it or lose it, lady. I've got places to be!

* Back off Betty, or I'm gonna hit my brakes and you are so gonna own this Jeep.

* Someone please tell me why God made fire ants.

* No.more.push-ups.

* WiiFit is the Shit!

* My 3 year old just told me to go in time-out.

* Is eating a pint of ice cream considered meeting my daily requirements of dairy?

* Anyone up for some drinking?

* Why, oh why, did I want another dog?

* How can a f-ing used pull-up be appetizing to a dog?

* Am I the only one sick of hearing about the Brett Favre debacle?

* If it doesn't rain soon, I think I might just die right along with the grass.

* Is it Friday yet?

*Ooooo, I love the new Jessica Simpson country song. Go ahead and make fun.

* Is it possible to itch off your skin? If so, how do you re-attach it?

* My mother just farted in boot camp.

There ya have it!
So should I go ahead and let myself be sucked into the black hole that is Twitter?

Are you f-ing kidding me?

For those of you who don't already know, I live in Texas. And I am about 25 minutes or so away from the beloved new Cowboy Stadium (still in process). And I really must vent about this, because I think my head was about to explode the other day while discussing this with my hubby.
Do you have any idea what the hell it takes to get a damn seat in that new stadium? Did anyone else know that you must pay $5000 per seat, just for the chance to buy tickets??? When my hubby told me that, I briefly thought about how I think I probably already heard that on the news, but then I yelled 'What the fuck?'

And then he told me how cool it was that this money secured the seats. "Those seats are ours!"

Me: "So does that mean I can unbolt them from the floor after each game and bring them home with me? Does that mean I can paint them any color I want? Does that mean my name is going to be engraved in the seat, and someone is gonna clean it for me? WHAT EXACTLY DOES THAT MEAN?"

Seriously? How much more rich could Tom Hicks get? Is it not enough that he owns the Dallas Stars, the Dallas Cowboys, and he had several blocks of houses knocked down for the mother of all stadiums?? I mean, really? So, you gotta pay huge amounts of cash just for the chance to buy a ticket to one f-ing game?

And of course, should I be surprised that my husband did it? Nah. He doesn't shock me anymore. Shock value in our marriage= honeymoon over.

Okay, so then you pay several thousand for tickets. I just don't get it. Why is that necessary? How the hell does Mr. Hicks expect the every day blue collar worker to afford tickets to see their favorite football team?

Did I mention that the stadium is not done? That it is scheduled to be ready for the 2009-2010 season? So, uh, you spent how much for seats that don't yet exist, for tickets to games that aren't gonna happen for another year???

I asked my hubby if it's this way with all the new stadiums popping up. I also asked if this was all common knowledge. Does ESPN talk about this shit like it's nothing?

I guess I'm all shocked because I just can't see why it is necessary for a football team owner to be so damn rich. And to keep making more f-ing money just because he can.

And that does lead to the discussion of why sports players make so much damn money, why we value this more than nurses, teachers, social workers, day care providers, hospice workers.


Holy hell.

(On a side note: Squeeeeeeeeee!-The Olympics start today! )

(On a side-side note: Squeeeeeeee!-Boot camp is almost over!)


Celebrity Girl Crush

My lady Moo showed us her celebrity girl crushes, and I couldn't resist. And, like her, I couldn't limit it to just 5. These women are talented, gorgeous, smart, sexy, funny, confident...Who wouldn't want to, um, ya know???

So, here goes, in no particular order:

1. Norah Jones

2. Shanna Moakler

3. Brittany Murphy

4. Carmen Electra

5. Christina Aguilera

6. Jennifer Love Hewitt

7. Jenny McCarthy

8. Sandra Bullock

9. Vanessa Marcil

10. Kendra Wilkerson, but The Girls Next Door continue to portray her as this ditzy platinum blonde, and it sorta turns me off.

Sooooo.....yeah. (ackward silence.....)

Who are your girl crushes?


Say It Anonymously...or whatever

I'm not really sure who started the Blog Share thing, or even how it works, so I will preface this post by saying "I am sorry if it seems like I stole your idea. I didn't. I just liked it, but was too lazy to research your idea, so I'm making my own rules. Thank you-drive thru."

That being said, I think we all have things we want to blog about, but we don't, for many reasons. Maybe your mom reads your blog every day. Maybe you are afraid your boss will find your blog, or IT will notice you going to that Blogger site every day, and totally tell on you. Maybe you have something important to get off your chest, and you do want the whole blog community to read it; you just don't want them to know it's specifically from you. Or how about this?: You've got to bitch about one of your friends, but he/she reads your blog.
You get the idea.

I think it would be absolutely wonderful if we could use each other's blogs to get this stuff off of our chests. And I know it's not as fun as the PiF contests (which, by the way, I FINALLY WON A CONTEST! So there will be another PiF contest here, soon), but it could be just as satisfying, right?
We could call it the Say It Anonymously post. Or whatever. I am creative, but the creative juices are just not flowing right now (might have something to do with the itch, the ache, the overall DISASTER of my shingles).

So, is anyone with me? If so, leave me a comment, and I will get it all organized to post in a week or so..or so. If it works out, and I don't curl up in a ball on the couch (from the stress, embarrassment, massive disaster I created, etc.) when it's all done, we might make it a monthly thing. Hmmmmm.

Let me know!

Learn something new every day

Not that I didn't already know this, but for some reason, it didn't hit me like a ton of damn bricks, until I read it online tonight-

Hey! Guess what??? Did you know that if you have the shingles, you can pass them on to people who have never had the chicken pox??? Like, say, your 3 year old? The 3 year old who was being oh-so sweet and kissing your shingles the other day. Oh, or your friend's 3 year old. Oh, or how about all the 3 year olds at the birthday party you attended on Saturday, where you spent the better part of 2 hours trying not to itch and cry at the same time? Ooooo...how about all the kids at your 3 year old's daycare?

Holy shit, what have I done???


Songs that I would never admit to liking

If you haven't checked out Alan's blog yet, you totally should. He always has great music suggestions, although some of them make me giggle. Also, he is not shy about his love of movies, and his reviews are fan-fuckin-tastic (yes, that's my word for the week, so far).
His post on the lame songs that he loves really made me giggle. I thought I could one-up him on this, so here is my list of the 10 songs I shouldn't admit to liking, but I do, and I am!:

#1: Yellow Submarine by the Beatles (just dorky)
#2: She Get it From her Mama by Juvenile (oh-so catchy!)
#3: Sugar Sugar by the Archies
#4: Boyz in da Hood by Easy E
#5: When I grow up by the Pussy Cat Dolls (it just makes me laugh that they say they want 'boobies')
#6: Gimme More by Britney Spears ( I know, I know, but it's catchy!)
#7: Hoochie Mama by 2 Live Crew (They are so damn crude, but I like them. Gah, it disgusts me that I like them!)
#8: Because I got high by Afroman
#9: Put 'em on the Glass by Sir Mix-a-lot
#10: Hey Hey We're the Monkees by the Monkees (just dorky)

So, what are your secret songs?


The Itchy & Crabby Show

Yeah, I know that's not the name of that damn show, but it's the name of my damn show right now. Do you know why I am the walking Itchy & Crabby show? I'll tell ya.
I've got the shingles.
Yeah, that's right. The f-ing shingles. Phenomenal.

I woke up early Saturday morning to this stinging pain in my left arm, or rather, on my left arm.

All the way up my left arm, across my shoulder, all over my neck and chest, my chin, my left cheek, all around and all over my lips, inside my mouth, on my tongue, in my throat. And I think there's one in my ear, because it is killing me. And as of this morning, all down my stomach, into my nether regions (yeah, don't even get me started), and currently, I feel it popping up on my thighs. And my scalp. And in my nose.

You get my point.

I am miserable. And it gets worse when I'm out in this 105 degree weather (yeah, I love the summers in Texas, I swear). So all weekend, I stayed in the house until it cooled down. Not fun for my girl, or the dogs. And I'm not crabby overall, just when I can't.stop.itching. which just so happens to be never. And it hurts when I itch it. It stings. It bleeds. It oozes.
Again: fan-fuckin-tastic.

This happened last summer. Except it started on my ankles, and worked it's way up my body. And it last for 2 months. Two steroid shots and 40-odd steroid pills later, and I was still an itchy mess. It's lovely, really. It makes my hubby all warm and excited, let me assure you. He dubbed me the Scabies girl.

This time around, he says I have crabs. Such a funny guy, my hubby.

This happens when I'm under a lot of stress. Or should I say, internal strife? I'm stressing about a lot, but overall, I feel like my stress level is lower than say, 2 years ago? And I didn't have the shingles then, so what the hell?? I just know that I have got to make some changes inside of me, and stop stressing about several things that I cannot control.


This week is my last week of my 4 week boot camp. I can't miss it. I don't want to miss it. But, at the same time, I know for a fact that my shingles will get 10 times worse when I start sweating tonight. I'm starting to itch more just thinking about it. Fan-fuckin-tastic.
I've already decided that I want to do the next 4 week boot camp as well. 8 weeks of straight hell should make me feel and look healthier, right?

As long as my dear friend stops bringing me lovely fruit tarts, and people stop inviting me to children's birthday parties, complete with the most delicious cupcakes. Oh, and let's not forget the fact that I am totally going to New Orleans at the end of the month, and I am still waiting for someone to convince me that all the beer/wine/tequila drinking I do, coupled with the middle-of-the-night bad food eating, will all be cancelled out by all the ass-shaking I plan on doing on the dance floor.

But I do feel stronger, really. And this morning, I did feel a bit thinner. Then I inhaled. As in, inhaled air, not food. Sigh.

I challenged Lil' Foot's Mom (only because she asked me to-well, not specifically me, but..) to running a mile, and then challenging herself to run that mile better in 4 weeks. I told you guys I ran/walked my mile in 13:32. My goal is to do it in 10 minutes this Thursday, my 4 week mark. So, you see, I can't NOT go to camp this week, just because I have this crap all over my body.


The saga of the blankie

My girl has had 3 little (portable) vices since being born: A pacifier, and two little blankets. The two little blankets were pink, soft, and adorable. I would wash one while she clutched the other. Over time, she grew more attached to one. At about 15 months, we decided it was time to take away a blankie, since we were so damn sick and tired of doing the whole 'did you get both blankies and the pacifier? Oh fuck, where's the other blankie??' routine every time we went anywhere. So, one day, my hubby took one of them away, and hid it in my sock drawer (no idea why he chose that place). And she was upset, but got over it quickly, considering she still had her favorite little blankie and pacifier.
At about 28 months, we were so damn tired of the pacifier, which we call a binky. We had about 12 at one time, and then all of a sudden, we would be down to one. And of course, come bed time, we would be turning over couches, tossing shit around the house, searching for that ONE.
We tried cutting the tip off of the pacifier, in the hopes that she would be convinced that she was 'sucking' it off. She wasn't convinced; she was pissed. And, it got all gross inside, so we threw it out and bought another one.
Then 3 more appeared in her bedroom.
Damn it.
So, we talked it up the idea of wrapping them up and giving them to 'the new babies' at the hospital. We even went to visit baby Ellison when she was born, and I took her pacifier and hid it. And she was allll for it....until bedtime.
And then she cried. And cried. And cried.
And we gave it back to her.
Damn it.
So then we talked up the idea of leaving it for the Easter bunny. We convinced her that the Easter bunny was going to take it and leave it for new babies, and in it's place, she would get candy, eggs, and big girl panties (trying to throw some potty-training stuff in the mix). By this time, she only wanted it, or even noticed it, at bedtime.
Easter Eve, my girl refused to give up the binky. Nope. Not leaving it out for no one. So when she fell asleep, I snuck in her room and stole it.
The next morning, she woke up to a cute bunny balloon, a ton of candy, eggs, and big girl panties. She was so excited!
That night, she was so worn out from all the damn Easter candy that every single family member insisted on buying her, and she didn't even notice the binky was gone.
The next night...not so much. She screamed. And cried. And kicked her bed. And threw her blankets out of her bed.
She cried herself to sleep.
And that was it. Woohoo! Done! No more tears.
Now, about once a week, she does this fake little cry, and says she wants her binky. But she knows there are no more, and they are for babies.


My girl loves rolling her own window down in the back seat. She does it if it's hot, cold, raining, or hailing. She doesn't care. It makes her happy, so I don't complain.
Last fall, in one of her crab-cake moods, she rolled her window down as we were driving home from a visit at Grandma's. It was almost dark, and she was crabbing about something. Being the sassy girl that she is, she threatened me with 'Look mom'--and held her blankie out the window.
I immediately got irate, telling her that was not safe, or funny. She put her hand in.
Less than a minute later, she started crying: "My blankie, my blankie!"
I felt around in the backseat for it (yes, while driving-it takes talent), and came up empty-handed. I asked her if it was on the other side of her car seat and she said "It's out the window."

What??? Are you kidding me???
My kid threw her damn blankie out the window.

I did a u-turn, and pulled off the road, right about where I remember here hanging it out the window. I turned on my brights, left her in the car, and started walking along the damn ditch.

And there it was.

No harm done, other than to my nerves.


Over time, she has become more relaxed about the blankie. We can even leave it home 'by mistake', and she doesn't go all irate on me. We can convince her to leave it in the car, or put it in my purse, and she's okay with this. She still cries when I wash it, but besides that, much more relaxed.
Fast forward to last weekend:
The last time I remember seeing it, we were at my mom's. She had an accident, and while I was grabbing her spare pair of panties (say that 3 times fast please, I dare you), she was running around my mom's house naked, with her blankie on her head.
As far as I know, she left it there when we went to a couple of stores.
Apparently not, because we tossed my mom's house 3 times.
No blankie.
We backtracked. Drove around the pet store parking lot. Went in the pet store and asked if anyone had seen it or turned it in. Went to the clothing store-ditto. Tossed my mom's house again. Tossed every damn bag that was in our possession that day.
Nowhere to be found.
I am pretty sure I was more upset than she was. I'm still sad that I won't be able to show her the worn out-used to be pink-full of holes-thin as a tissue-blankie that she adored. I feel my heart ache a bit every time I think about it.
I guess she fed into my absolute terror about it, because by the end of the evening, she was crying. My mom convinced her that I would make her a new little blankie that would fit in her pocket, and she seemed okay with this. I was all excited about going to the fabric store (Sqweeeeeee!), and then....
My wonderful hubby walked out of our bedroom with the other blankie. It was still in my sock drawer. It was bigger than we wanted, so we cut it, and I sewed some satin edging on it. All before bedtime.
And, TADA! My girl is happy as can be!!!
And me? I am no longer hyperventilating.