Cat & Mouse

This is how proud I am of my cat, I actually took the time to open a YouTube account and waited and waited while the videos loaded.  Here she is after the kill--there is no blood and it looks like she is playing with a toy but please DO NOT SHOW TO LITTLE CHILDREN.  Ok, I feel better now. 

and more video just cuz I am so proud!

The first video is the better one, but she gets a really good mouse toss in with the first 20-30 seconds of the second video.  The first video was with my camera and the second was with my camcorder...definitely a difference, but not the one I was expecting!  In the first video I had cornered her after she tried to take it to my bedroom...uh huh...not the kind of 'bedroom surprise' I was hoping for!  Because she has never shown any interest in killing mice I was a little concerned that it was just stunned so I did touch it just to make sure.  And, yes, I did gag a little bit while she kept chewing at it and thumping it against the wall.  Ugh.

Ok, the 'bare hands' story is as follows...I bought and moved into my very first house two and a half years ago.  It is an older house and had sat vacant for years.  A few nights after I moved in I am sitting on the couch watching TV when I notice the cat.  She was pawing at the wall, again.  To prove to her that nothing was wrong I picked her up, opened the electrical box/utility box on the wall and out scurried a mouse!  I was so not ready for that!  I dropped the cat over the mouse and yelled, "Get it, Siva!".  The poor little mouse was a bit stunned and wasn't moving terribly fast, but the cat sniffed and walked away.  Because I have a loooong and somewhat unfortunate history with mice I was not about to let it run away and procreate.  I didn't have a shoe or slipper (and trust me, I would have pounded it into pancakes if I'd had one) so I grabbed this fleece bed that my cat sleeps on, covered the mouse and cupped it to contain it.  Well, when you live alone and you can't yell for someone to grab a jar your choices are limited and a piece of cloth is not going to contain a mouse.  So, I squished it.  It was awful!  I started applying pressure and I swear to you the mouse started squealing and when I started feeling things pop I got too nauseated and let go.  I was too horrified to do anymore and the poor mouse did stagger away.  Without going into any more horrifying details I can confirm that the mouse did die.  Ugh, it was awful!  I was so upset--I called my best friend, but I think he was slightly amused by it.  Even thinking back on it disturbs me.

I actually have another doozy of a mouse/mice story, but I am going to wait until tomorrow.  It's kind of funny and I need to end on a funny note after remembering the details of my kill. 

Oh, the cats name is Siva, but is pronounced like Shiva.  I named her after the Indian deity of destruction.  It just seemed appropriate. 

Because I need a laugh, even if it is twisted

You should know that Sarah Palin had just pardoned a turkey 20 seconds before the cameras started rolling.  And in case you aren't clear on the concept, the guy behind her is KILLING the surviving turkeys.  Yep, I can't make this crap up.

Baby Cate is on her way!

Part of my trivia from the early part of this week was about El Paso...Illinois.  What makes El Paso significant?  Well, I pass through it every time I visit Kristen and this weekend I took a very special trip to Wisconsin.  After two years of waiting, Kristen was finally going to China to pick up her daughter! 

We started our journeys as strangers over two years ago when we were both accepted into the China program at the same agency.  I still consider that a miracle because NONE of the other agencies I contacted allowed singles and only two days before I applied I was told that they would NOT be opening their doors to singles again because of the rumored single exclusion.  We competed (I hate to use that word, but there were only a few slots available) against a number of other single applicants and we were accepted the same day.  I wasn't aware of Kristen until she posted that she was DTC--up until then I had been in the lead, but being the good sport that I am I emailed my congrats and our friendship began from there.   Even though we live several states away we manage to see each other several times a year and talk and email constantly.  Yeah, it's one of those really cool friendships.  We have so much in common it would have been a real shame to have never met. 

Today she left for China and while I write she is still in flight with an expected touch down somewhere in the wee hours of the morning--or early morning depending on how you define your sleeping hours.  So, Friday I happily drove up to WI to celebrate Cate's arrival with her friends and family with a toddler shower.  Let me tell you, that girl got some loot!  It was all I could do to stay out of her toys!  Hopefully Kris won't mind me posting this photo because her daughter is absolutely stunning! 

Feel free to stop by her blog and say "hey".  Her brother is supposed to be keeping up with posts while she is gone.  I'm already restless--I can't wait to meet me newest little niece! 

What the...?

Do you ever have one of those days when nearly everything you hear or see gives you pause?  Seriously, I has to be a full moon or darn near.  Now that I am the only analyst I have been getting these calls: "so are you now involved with project xyz?  Must be you since you are the only one left."  or "I didn't see you at the project meeting for abc...did you forget?"  NO, I didn't forget.  I haven't been assigned and I am not volunteering--I finally told someone today "I can't carry anymore weight.  You are going to have to wait." 

I work with really nice people, emphasis on nice.  But some of their phone calls are making me freakin' insane.  There are a couple of them that like to call, but aren't prepared to discuss the subject they are calling me on.  I am doing a favor for them and they don't have the courtesy to cut the shit and get to the point.  Honestly, one called me today and couldn't remember what she called me about or what she needed.  I kept telling her "just call me back when you are ready" but she was smart enough to know that I had NO intention of picking up that phone again!  So while she fiddle farted around trying to remember what she needed to tell me I actually put the phone down and used the bathroom.  Yep, I'm getting tired and I am really, really looking forward to my LOOONG vacation. 

Which is why I found this picture so funny tonight:

The quality isn't good since I took it with my cell phone, but it was funny enough that I actually blew the 10 cents to send it to my email, my sister's phone and my brother-in-law's phone.  It is your everyday "economy" sedan with a WOODEN rear spoiler.  No kidding--I laughed my toots off when that kid pulled up.  Not only that, it is nailed into the trunk.  It is a couple of 2x4s nailed together and although you can't see it, the stamp from the lumber company is still on the wood.  He even drilled a number of holes in it--I imagine it's to decrease the amount of wind resistance and drag on the car.  The kid didn't even paint it!  He also had a racing stripe down the front of the car, but it appeared to be a peel off or a very sloppy home paint job.  I wonder if he made this in shop class....?

Neglected, but not for forgotten

Yes, I know I have been neglecting this blog.  There is a reason, and it is a pretty darn good reason. 

In about a month from now my life is going to get pretty crazy.  And believe it or not, I fully intend to drag you down with me.  Why keep the crazy fun to myself?!?  Stay tuned for more details (or directions...hard so say where I am going to land).

And for a change of subject...what is with all the people suddenly buying guns post-Obama election?  Really, you think you need an automatic weapon to hunt with?  Are you serious?  I believe in our amendment rights, but I honestly don't see the sport in buying/selling weapons whose sole purpose is to kill people.  I totally support hunting (ok, not really, but people have to eat and I'm too much of a weenie to kill my own meat.  I can't even touch the raw, nicely packaged chicken I buy from the market--the texture totally weirds me out.  I'd probably be a vegasaurus if I had to kill my own food) so I would not advocate taking guns from people.  If you don't know what I'm talking about click here.  Obama never said he was going to take away our right to bear arms, but if city dwellers think they need an Uzi to take down a deer--well, they obviously aren't hunting for the meat or the pelt.  These types of weapons were designed for warfare, not for home protection or sport.  And what is wrong with requiring a background check?  I work as a nurse and it is frightening the number of crazies that walk among us.  Some of them even sound normal some days (this is not a slam against people with mental illness; I'm just saying that some people aren't safe with dull butter knives).  Or what about the guy down the road that was released from prison after only serving two years for manslaughter?  Don't the rest of us deserve the right to be safe? 

Since it is an amendment right I can't see how Obama (or any other politician) will ever take our guns away, so why are all these people stockpiling? 

PSA on the Flu

Fun with Cheese

I'm not actually lactose intolerant, but I do have an allergy to a protein that is found in milk and other dairy products. Nevertheless, the effect is basically the same. Since arriving in Dallas they have fed me nothing but cheese. Cheese with a side of lettuce, cheese with a side of enchiladas, cheese with a side of eggs...you get the picture and I am in hell. Yesterday afternoon I was in so much pain that I could barely stand or sit upright. It doesn't end there, as I am sure you are aware. There is cramping, distended abdomen, really strange noises coming from my mid-section (I said mid-section, not butt although it does eventually get there too). Today I rushed from the lunch room (cheese with a side of chicken) feeling quite nauseous. Let's just say I spent a good portion of my break in there.

It isn't always this bad. Since it is an allergy, the severity of my symptoms tends to depend on how many other allergens are also attacking me. In the summer I can have a hamburger with little or no problems, but in the fall and in January (with the higher mold counts) I develop amnesia until it rips my gut up.

Ok, change of subject. About 2 weeks ago I learned that I am finally through the review room. Yay! I know it doesn't sound like such a big deal after I have already been waiting this long (20 months on Sunday!), but for me it was. They could have been nit-picky and asked for more medical documentation. It would have been easy to get since I am healthy, but I didn't want to get pulled out of my LID queue.

Kristen reminded me yesterday of what yesterday's date was. Honestly, I'm not sure how I forgot it since it has really been on my mind alot in the week leading up to it. October 4, 2006 was the day my agency's website posted that they had a limited number of single slots available. If you look back through my blog towards the beginning you will what a miracle that was (not for them, but for me). Two days prior to that I had called inquiring about a spot and the director of the China program told me it wasn't going to happen because they knew China was getting ready to disqualify singles (did I just make up a Bushism? Not sure that is the correct use of that word). I could have written them off, but two days later I felt God urging me to go back. Up until this point I had not decided to start the process--I wanted to wait a year since I was flat broke. On October 4th, the nudge God had placed on my heart the month before suddenly became a very annoying rap on the head "do it, do it, do it!". Thankfully, I listened and checked the website. On October 6th, they called to tell me they had received my packet, but they had questions about whether I was be accepted by the CCAA. They didn't want to waste a slot on someone who wouldn't pass muster. After a very long weekend, my agency called me to say I was approved to begin the process and to GET ON IT!

Even though the wait has been long and my journey has taken some twists and turns, I never lose the absolute wonderment over God's perfect timing. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had not heeded God's suggestion and I shudder to think of it. Even though my daughter is not yet home, she (or the thought of her) has opened my heart and world in ways nothing has before. She has changed the very course of my life and that is an amazing thing.

I love you, baby girl!

Claymates

Clay Aiken announced today that he is gay.  Really?  Gay?  Had no one picked up on this before? 

He reported that he made the decision to come out after deciding he didn't want his son to think lying was ok.  Good for him!  I can't imagine how hard it is to live life with a huge secret hanging over your head.  Lucky for him, I think most people already know. 

Unfortunately, all the rabid Claymates may need to find someone else to throw their undies at.  I'm sure Clay will be relieved.  

Weirdness Abounds

I took today off from work so I could sleep.  Truly, I am that tired and overworked.  Would you like to guess what woke me up at 11:07 am?  Not the cat (although she had been obnoxious), not the lawn mower down the road--it was a low flying plane.  Yep, I seriously grabbed the cat and hit the deck and said, "oh, sh**!".  Yeah, my sister and I have had the conversation that nearly every time I encounter something life defying that my response is "oh sh*t!".  I'm not proud, I truly am not.  I'm afraid one of these times it is going to be the big one and the last words I utter before encountering the pearly gates is going to be "oh sh*t".  Hopefully God has a sense of humor. 

The other weirdo moment happened last night.  I HATE receiving advertisements from credit card companies, I hate that they sell my personal information to other vendors so that THEY can also harass me.  So when I saw the opt-out insert they tucked behind my last bill, I wanted to make a point of calling.  When I called a husky voiced from a wo/man (not too sure, folks) answered.  When I told him/her what I wanted s/he asked why I called this number.  Considering I had just given her my credit card number I started getting very nervous, especially since this is on the heels of the PayPal Fiasco of my birthday (someone stole my account and bought an Audi car).  I explained that the number I called was the number that was provided.  So s/he was chatty and was asking about if I had been affected by Hurricane Ike.  It seems kind of stupid to even admit it since I live in Indiana, but yeah, we got hit kind of hard. Besides Texas, we were the next state with the highest number of lives lost due to the storm.  S/he asks about the storm twice (what the heck?).  Then she finishes my transaction.  I asked her what I needed to do since I am planning on going overseas in a couple of months.  She then starts telling me to take Immodium because of the food.  Honestly, I've eaten some foods both here and abroad that I'm not proud of.  The last thing I want to do is sssllllooooww their exit out of me.  You understand?

At this point s/he realizes I'm a nurse and starts telling me about her cheating ex-husband.  She says since you are a nurse you will understand this, "I started dosing him with spironolactalone and an anti-psychotic and he was not the same after that." 

Ok, does that scare you at all?  Honestly, it did me.  I didn't even know some of the effects of spironolactalone until recently (among other things it suppresses testosterone) but having some fruit loop on the phone admit to poisoning someone, well, that's just not right.  That reminds me, I probably need to check my credit again...

My poor, poor neglected blog

Yep, it is truly a neglected blog and for that I am sorry.  I think the hard part is having so much going on in my life, but so little that I can publicly share in a worldwide forum such as this one.  So, I choose not to talk at all.  If it makes you feel better, I actually do the same things to my friends (how sad that I shut them out when I can't share things). 

Unfortunately I don't have adoption news to share.  Most of what I am dealing with is work related stress and given my current job and the tech people I work with, I realize it is not wise to unload those things here.  I guess I am actually getting wiser the older I get.  A few weeks ago a colleague asking my opinion on something and as I opened my mouth to speak (realizing at that moment that my opinion would likely not be in the majority and therefore it was open to attack) I shut it and said "never mind".  That actually speaks just as loudly, but now I don't leave a verbal trail that might hang me later. 

There is some good news in adoption land though, the CCAA is finally matching families and children in February 2006.  Whoo hoo!  Right now I'm a year and 3 days behind where they currently are.  That feels better than where I was sitting six months ago! 

The birthday did suck a bit, but I'm a big girl, I can handle it.  My friends made up for the other shortcomings and I couldn't believe some of the awesome gifts I got.  Plus, my sister bought me the last two books of the Twilight series and I am dying to dig into them (did you get the joke on that one?)!  I'm actually re-reading the first one right now and I'm going to take book 3 with me tomorrow as I head out to Georgia for training.  Please say a prayer that I don't have too many problems from the hurricanes. 

Bit of a Break

I needed to take a bit of a blogger break.  Nothing was really on my mind, which was exactly the reason I needed a break.  Very little is happening in adoption land and my personal life has become rather boring so I decided to take some time off.

I did celebrate my 18 month LID last Tuesday.  Honestly, it's hard to believe it has been that long already.  Currently the wait is now 30.5 months for a referral, so as you can see, I still have a ways to go!  That's ok; I'm patient.  It will be interesting to see what happens after the Olympics.  I don't believe that the flood gates will open per se, but I do believe that we might see a few more referrals or LIDs trickle through in the coming months and hopefully next year we will actually see things improve. 

I have been working a lot of overtime at work--and evenings--and weekends--and on-call.  I don't like it, but it is only temporary and I remind myself that the money goes right into my baby fund.  I was scheduled to come off on call this morning at 7 am, but I woke up at 6:48 and decided to pop the battery out 12 minutes earlier (yes, it's easier to pop the battery out than figure out how to turn it off).   

My birthday is in less than two weeks and I'm looking forward to spending some time with my family.  This time of year is my favorite in this city and my favorite festival of the year is being held on my B-day this year.  How special am I?   

The Belly of the Beast (or Why there is no cure for dumb)

I've had an ass-kickin', lip smackin' good day.  Warning the following post may contain words not suitable for children under the age of 13. 

I was in a meeting this morning with some colleagues when my boss blows in with steam coming out of her ears.  Her voice was slightly below a yell and she was obviously pissed.  She said, "I was just on the new unit and I can't get the main desk computer to work."  I just kind of looked at her dumbfounded--of course the computer doesn't work, it's not fully installed.

She was still mad and asked why I hadn't already tested the devices (our term for the the multitude of PCs, laptops, tablets, printers, PDAs, and other handheld devices) last week.  Simple answer.  Because until last night/early this morning they hadn't been installed.  She couldn't understand how the installing department hadn't been able to put them in when it should have been done last Wednesday.  Another simple answer: because the contractors were still working yesterday.  Honestly, how do you install computers when you don't even have countertops to put them on or jacks or power outlets?  The construction guys were literally painting around me today as I worked.  I'm half stupid from inhaling all the fumes and killing my brain cells. 

I explained all this to her, but she was not appeased.  She didn't like being kept out of the loop--I tried to gently remind her that I asked her on Monday if the unit was going to be ready considering it didn't even have a functioning toilet.  After she left, I proceeded to print out all the e-mails over the past week concerning the delays.  Every email I started began with "are the printers set up yet?"

Despite her attempt smooth her over-reaction (apologies aren't really necessary in the work force, don't you agree?), I was already on way to being a crankysaurus.  Granted, I tend to be funny when I'm cranky, but only because I'm mean.  Just last week our secretary turned to me and said, "You're short, but you're mean".  I guess you aren't supposed to be both. 

Fortunately I genuinely like the people I work with.  Honestly, most of us are good natured and are cognizant of the fact that we are going to get tossed into the rubbage heap and we have to work as a team to get the hell out.  Kind of like that scene from Star Wars when Luke, Han Solo (ahh, Harrison Ford) and Princess Leia are stuck in trash compactor with the weird snake lurking under the garbage water.  They yelled at each other the whole time, but they managed to get out together.  I think.  It's been years since I've seen it.

Anyway, by 5 PM I'm getting pretty hungry and that 15 minute snarf session 6 hours prior is a distant memory.  By 6 PM I'm down right snarly and each time I have to test print a Word document it says something like let me out of here, do you hate me or something, how come I am still here when everyone else got to leave?  Evidently when you educate yourself on multiple applications you became that girl, Ms. Popular.  At this point I know I can say pretty much anything to anyone and they can't say a word about it because I don't have a replacement. 

At 7:15 PM I finally announce that I am leaving.  I walk back to my building and wouldn't you know it, it is locked up tight.  I'd like to say I didn't use any "language", but then I'd be lying.  I walked back over and decided that after all the assistance I have given the Help Desk they had better loan me their spare key.  The last time I got locked out I had to call security and it wasn't pretty.  After waiting 20 impossibly long minutes the security guard walks over, unlocks my door, opens it for me, proceeds to follow me and locks the door behind us.  I kid you not.  I thought I was about to be raped.  He then asked (gag) "is there anything else I can help open?"  Yeah, you can open an incident report and save me the trouble of reporting you.  Gross.  So not really a fan of calling security and getting stuck with Officer Sicko. 

It's just been one of those days after a series of one of those days.  So what do I do when I am stressed and should either be walking it off or sleeping it off?  I started cooking and baking.  At 9:30 at night.  I must be crazy, but at least I should have a lot of extra food to stock my freezer with. At the rate I'm going I shouldn't have to work very long on Friday--actually, I may be home by 9 am because I have run out of hours!

Laments of the Lonely part II

I woke up this morning with a hickey and realized two things:

1. I am a deep sleeper
2. I sleep alone

Close inspection revealed the hickey exactly matched the jade necklace that I wear every day right down to the gold inlayed message.  I wasn't sure whether I was relieved that I hadn't been molested by an alien in the middle of the night...or a little disappointed. 

   (I'm not really lonely, I just noticed the hickey this morning and thought it was kind of funny.  I was talking to Sarah yesterday right before I walked into the Chinese restaurant and realized that some of my behaviors are very lonely/single girl behaviors.  Then tonight I went to Kroger and got one of the basket...and a big box of cat litter.  Oy, I'm the very stereotype of a single girl.) 

Hi, my name is Erica and I'm addicted...

to Chinese food.  I'm starting to get embarrassed because I am now visiting my local establishment about once a week.  Perhaps I shouldn't be embarrassed, but I get tired of pretending to actually browse the take-out menu when I have absolutely no intention of even trying most of those foods.  It's not that I think I won't like it and it's that I am afraid of it (puh-leeze, I've eaten chicken's feet prepared every possibly way in Hong Kong in addition to duck's tongue, duck's brain and an assortment of other unidentified foods I'd rather not know about.  I'm not gustatorily shy), but for $8 a pop I want to have the most enjoyment out of every meal I buy so that means buying what I really, really like. 

For the longest time I celebrated my Friday nights going to an east-side establishment because they most resembled the HK style noodles I have grown to love.  For some reason it has become my comfort food and by Friday nights, baby, I need some comfort.  But after a little Chinese restaurant opened less than 2 miles from my home with a similar style of food I began frequenting it.  A couple of weeks a go I was slightly embarrassed by the frequency of my visits so I attempted the east side only to learn they were under renovation.  I swallowed my pride and returned to the neighborhood place. 

Has it been 10 minutes yet?  I think my order is ready.  I'll talk to ya'll later. 

Outsmarted by a 20 month-old and other realizations from the church nursery

Yeah, it's true.  I was corrected by a 20 month-old today.  Did it hurt my pride?  Nah, it was pretty funny.  Adrienne, the smarty pants, was playing with the baby swing...you know the kind where you dial a number and it rocks little babies?  That one.  There is a buckle system to snap the baby in in the event the swinging gets too vigorous or the baby slides out.  She was trying to get one of the four corresponding snaps to fit together.  As I watched her I tried to correct her, "No, Adrienne, I don't think those go together."

Boy was I wrong.  To prove to the girl that I was right I attempted to put the two snaps together that I thought went together.  They didn't fit.  So I tried her way--wow, it worked!  Fortunately she didn't gloat and I apologized for being an idiot. 

Kids like me.  I have never understood why.  I've never been one of those women that went out of my way to seek out babies at the grocery store.  I will smile and wave at them if I see them staring, but I do not engage otherwise.  Well, for whatever reason kids like me and it isn't long before they try to get close.  Eve, a very allergic 6 month-old, decided I was awesome today.  Her mom plopped her down across the room and within a few minutes she crawled over to me and wanted to play only with me.  That sounds lovely, but did you forget the allergy part?  The poor girl's eyes were constantly dripping, her nose was a faucet and when she sneezed (which was every few minutes) snot would go flying everywhere.  Oh, did I mention she's a puker?  Yeah, poor Eve proceeded to puke up everything her mother had just fed her.  After 8 spit-ups I lost count.  I've never seen anything like it--fluids were leaking out of this kid all over.  And because she liked me so much many of them wound up on me.  Yep, I walked out of there with booby juice spit up in various degrees of drying on my pants. 

And people wonder why I really didn't want to work the nursery? 

I like the kids, I really do, but I think it's more precious when the child is your own. 

Oh, stay tuned, I'm going to be posting some pics and videos of my last weekend tonight or tomorrow.  There are some things I don't post until I've had a chance to shock my family. 

Funny!

I don't usually like to send out dumb emails, but I received one from a co-worker today that I wanted to share with all of you.  Please, do not eat or drink anything while you are reading.  I don't want to be responsible for any choking or spit-up on the screen.  I tried reading this at work, but I didn't want my co-workers to know I was reading garbage so I tried to stifle laughter, but then I had tears running down my face.  Enjoy!

All hair removal methods have tricked women with their promises of easy, painless removal - The Epilady, scissors, razors, Nair and now...the wax.  My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home,  fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring  painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe I should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet."
So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you  peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off.  No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out.
(YA THINK!?!)
So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing
each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius  kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax, yeah...right!") I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works!  OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this!  Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.  With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the wax strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my hoo-ha and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRIIIPPP!!!!

I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!.....OH MY GAWD!!!!!!!!!

Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to
pull off half the strip. CRAP! Another deep breath and RIPP!  Everything is spinning and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...must stay conscious. Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to normal.  I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip!  There's no hair on it. Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX??? Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip...it's not!
I touch.
I am touching wax.
I run my finger over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair. Then I make the next BIG  mistake...(remember my foot is still propped up on the toilet?) I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down.
SEALED SHUT!!!!
MY BUTT IS SEALED SHUT!
SEALED SHUT!!!!

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My  head may pop off!"
What can I do to melt the wax? Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right???
WRONG!!!!!!!******

I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that
used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment -  I sit.  Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water.  Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax. So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cemented myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced  me a few months ago to have a phone put in the  bathroom!!!!! I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter...... "So, my butt and hoo-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!"
There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal but she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hole or hoo-ha?"
She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box.
YEAH!!!!! Right!!
I should be the joke of someone else's night.
While we go through various solutions. I resort to trying to scrape the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better than to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and  then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!  By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.  My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and. OH MY GOD!!!!!!!  The scream probably woke the kids and scared the dickens
out of my friend. Its sooo painful, but I really don't care.
"IT WORKS!! It works!!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up. I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair.... THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT!  So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now.  Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.
Next week I'm going to try hair color......

It's with great joy...

that I finally get to let the cat out of the bag!  Kristen received a referral on a little girl just over a week ago and I couldn't be more thrilled!  You can read all about it on her blog that I linked above.  I can keep a secret, but I sure don't like to!

She called me on the Friday before last while I was leading a class of pharmacists and nurses.  Since Mom was diagnosed with cancer I have started keeping my cell phone with me at work, but I forgot to turn my ringer off.  All of the sudden "Baby Got Back" started playing.  Yes, that is really her ring tone.  I gave it to her and another adoption buddy so I would always know when they were calling.  Anyway, the class started snickering as I walked out of the classroom to find out what was going on.  The first thing she asked was, "are you sitting down?".  What???

Once I was firmly planted against the wall she shared the news.  I was and am still very excited for her!  Please stop by and congratulate her on this wonderful news. 

I can't wait to meet her, Kristen!

A little bit of this, a little bit of that

I realized that I have been a very bad blogger the past couple of months.  My sincerest apology, but let me explain.  Lately I have spent a considerably longer time staring at my computer at work.  About 9 hours to be exact.  I am involved in testing on a HUGE project that is set to go live in a few weeks and I literally sit in a hot little room crammed full of computers and people and repeatedly test and troubleshoot errors.  Strangely enough, I like the work, but it gets harder to return emails in the evening or blog.  The other night Michael and I were IM'ing and I finally said "can I just call you?  My eyes are shot".  Starting today, I will be locked in a room with 6 other people just testing, but at least this new testing room is air-conditioned!  In fact, tomorrow it is going to feel like factory work since our goal is to test and fix 800 meds.  Evidently we have 2,700 medications that need tested between now and the end of the week (yay, I'm off on Friday!).   The plus side?  I have been partnered up with a super cute guy, married of course, but quite cute and charming!  It certainly makes the day pass faster. 

As I mentioned I will be off on Friday.  Kris and I had initially planned a fun 4 day weekend that included a trip to Chicago for the Summer festival in Chinatown.  Our little mini-vacation plans have changed considerably, but hell or high water I am leaving this town!

Happy Birthday and Happy LID!

I am dedicating this post to this man:

This is Wes.  Wes is my brother-in-law and he is 37 years-old today.   I feel sorry for him.  The poor guy had NO idea what he was getting into when he married into this family.  That should be obvious by the Oral Me T-shirt he received as a Christmas gift from Chennie last year.  He was a real sport about it, but I think he was embarrassed to even have this photo taken.  For the longest time I couldn't figure out how Wes knew so much about me--or how my sister did for that matter.  Sarah finally spilled the beans; Wes reads my blog everyday.   Yep, cyber stalked by my own B-I-L.  (just kidding, Wes.  I like that you read. It saves on phone bills)

I like Wes.  He has been a good addition to our family and I love the fact that Sarah married a guy that is a lot like me!  Haha...talk about sibling revenge. 

So, if you read this post, please leave a Happy Birthday note for Wes.  Evidently only two people have remembered his birthday so far.

Oh, and today is my 17 month LID.  As I told Kris, it could be worse.  We could be at 1 or 7.  I'm glad it's 17.  I'm also glad it's not 71.  Ok, this is starting to sound like Sesame Street!

Consistency

Is it too much to expect a certain level of consistency?  I admit--I'm a creature of habit.  I base present expectations on past experiences, but who doesn't?  As humans, this is how we are designed and it was for good reason.  You learn not to mess with bees after you step on one, don't you? 

So, on June 5th my coordinator e-mails me and wants to know the status of my 171H.  Have I received the new one?  Nope.  I'd had a sticky note stuck to my computer for weeks reminding me to re-apply for a new I-600A.  In fact I had to move it if I wanted to see my URL bar.  Did I do anything about it.  Nope.  Did it matter that I was expiring in less than 6 weeks?  Nope.  Did I consider the fact that it took 3 months the last time?  Nope.  Are you sensing a lack of excitement this time around?  Yep.

Ok, so the e-mail from Melissa put my butt in gear and I promised to send it ASAP.  And I did, I emailed it the following day.  Within 10 days I received a notice that my updated home study was missing.  I know it wasn't, but I e-mailed by home study agency and they sent a new one immediately.  Only two days after receiving that notice I received another letter notifying me that my fingerprint appointment was in about 10 days.  Huh? 

So I got my fingerprints taken earlier this week to little fanfare (my skin was so dried out they made me put Corn Husker's Oil on--ewww).  Imagine my surprise when I arrived home this evening to find my new 171H.  All I could think is "What the he**?"  I wish it had been that easy last time.  I wish it had taken less time last time because I was stressing the deadline so bad my hair started falling out.  I will say, I have been reassigned to a new Adjudications Officer and maybe that is making the difference?  Either way, I'm happy it arrived and I'm wondering...how long will it take next time? 

I went home to visit the 'rents for the 4th and we had a good time.  Actually, I had an HGTV time and it was awesome.  I'm going to start applying to see if I can be on one of their shows--darn it, I need a new yard! 

I also took some cool pics of the fireworks.  Enjoy!

There are a couple that I think I will frame because they turned out so cool.  I love having a fireworks setting on my camera! 

Mom wanted me to tell everyone that she is doing great!  She is cancer free, will NOT need radiation therapy and has been walking 5 miles a day.  Yeah, 6 days post-op and she was back to walking 5 miles a day.  Wow, she's amazing. 

Huh?

TV is usually kind of boring for me (I don't have cable) so I generally just flip through channels settling on a program for a few minutes before flipping to something new.  Last night I landed on ABC, but because I caught it a few minutes into the program, I was totally lost.  I honestly thought they were joking when they were referring to monkeys as "adopted kids".  Seriously.  They wanted to have perpetual children so they were "adopting" monkeys.  Unfortunately for them, all monkeys eventually go bad.  I couldn't help but think, is this really the best language to use?  If babygirl had been watching that with me, what would she have thought?  I kept waiting for the punch line or a person to jump out and shout "candid camera!" but it never happened.  What the heck?  Check it out here.  http://abcnews.go.com/Primetime/popup?id=5255121 and there is quote from the website: 

It's estimated that there are 15,000 monkeys purchased as pets or surrogate children and living with humans in the United States alone. While many of the people who buy the monkeys may treat them as if they were little humans, these primates are from the South American rainforest and in their normal habitat spend two-thirds of the day feeding and hunting for their dinner.

If you want a child, adopt a child.  If you want a pet, get a dog.  These are not domesticated animals and they are certainly not replacements for human children. 

The Terminator

Most of you have probably figured out by now that I'm a little ornery. I tend to walk the line between inappropriate and...well, I'm not sure what the and is, but I thought you might enjoy this story.

For the most part I really enjoy my co-workers. There are a couple that I'd gladly tell to take a hike, but for the most part they are pretty cool people. On Friday I went to work at my usual butt-crack-of-dawn time and the lights weren't even on in the building (no, I'm not a morning person but it allows me to get a parking spot within walking distantance and I get out earlier too).

As I got off the elevator I noticed two of my co-workers talking by the glow of the emergency lights. They were asking me how mom is doing (awesome, by the way. The crazy lady walked 3 miles today), but I couldn't concentrate on what they were saying because as they were talking I saw the biggest hairy-ass cockroach scurry between us the run under the office door of the other Erica. I really didn't even think, I just unlocked her door and stepped on the darn thing before it could scurry any further. Although I had a nice satisfying crunch when I stepped on it the dumb bug wouldn't die. It's antennae were still whirling about trying to do whatever cockroach antennae do. Standing there with this massive (it was 1 1/2 inches, I tell ya) cockroach I had a bright idea. I grabbed a Post-It note wrote "Happy Birthday" across it and placed it next to the sticky bug. Since it was her 40th Birthday I thought she would get a kick out of it.

Yeah, she did. I think there was a little fast stepping when she first laid eyes on it, but ever a tough chic, she didn't scream. That stupid bug had actually crawled another 6-8 inches away. Realizing the gig was up, I grabbed him with a tissue and had my second bright idea (I'm a firm believer in recycling, even if it is recycling a bad joke). I went into the hall bathroom and tried flicking him off the tissue and into the toilet bowl. After the third flick I realized he was probably going to land in my hair rather than the toilet so I laid him gently on top of the water. And I didn't flush.

I like to refer to hall toilet as the dumping toilet. Since ALL but one employee has their own toilet in their office (see the bathroom humor post about a week or so back for more info) there is really no reason to use that toilet unless you are going to take a crap and don't want any of the neighboring offices to hear you.

Well, I got the other Erica again. She went in to take her morning dump and there he was, floating on top of the bowl looking bigger than ever and with his antennae still twitching. I wasn't on the floor when she went in, but I would have loved to have seen her face when she dropped her drawers, lowered her butt to the bowl and saw that stupid bug still twitching away.

It wasn't long before the story got around the hospital. The pharmacists started calling me "The Terminator" and a couple of people told me that they'd had a really bad day, but every time they thought of that cockroach they would start to laugh. I called Mom to tell her about it on Friday night we were both laughing so hard we couldn't breathe. The poor woman probably stressed her internal stitches after the laugh we had. It was awesome, but I'm betting those of you that are reading are not getting near the enjoyment out of it. Even as I write this story, I am laughing. That bug had 9 lives!

SuperWoman

I have always teased my mom for being so strong. "Freakishly" strong is usually how I describe her. I have to admit, I was really dreading what she was going to look like post-op. I've had surgeries, actually I've had a handful and I've cried before and after every one of them. I hate them and I'm sure I was projecting some of what I was feeling on to my mom and I just hated that she had to go through it. Unless someone has had surgery, they have no idea what it is like. I hate the thought of being knocked out....and then what? You wake up knowing some sort of trauma has occurred, but you are so snowed by the drugs you can't put two thoughts together, you are scared, you are in pain, everyone talks too loud, the lights are too bright and I'm always puking. I didn't want this for her. Well, I needn't worry about it. She is definitely retaining her SuperWoman title. I've told her and I've told my Dad (I doubt my mom actually believes me), but she has recovered amazingly well. I'm a nurse and I've NEVER seen anyone recover from that surgery that quick. I've taken care of women that had vaginal hysterectomies that took 3 days for them to get to the place they were walking. Within 8 hours of surgery she was insisting on fluids and wanted to sit on the side of the bed and practice standing. Within 24 hours of surgery, she was walking, eating solid foods, using oral pain meds. She's amazing and I want to thank everyone that prayed for her. I'm simply blown away by how good she did and continues to do.

And for whatever reason I can not get the photos of my mom load on here tonight. I'll see if they can send me copies and hopefully I can post them tomorrow.

Thank you everyone that sent good wishes and prayers her direction...she is obviously better for it!

Doing Good

Just a quick update to let everyone know that Mom is really doing well. The surgeon was very encouraged and surprised to learn that the cancer/tumor was not as big as they originally thought. Thank you, Jesus! She thought everything looked really clean, but couldn't say for certain until the pathology reports came back.

It was a little scary to see her in so much pain and confusion post-op. The drugs have certainly done a number on her! By this evening she was semi-alert and talking. She asked the nurse if she could get up and they were all amazed that she was in such a hurry to get up and start moving. After standing and proving to herself and others that she could she promptly told us all "goodnight, time for bed" and she checked out for the evening...at 7 pm.

My mom wants to have photo documentation of the entire process so she asked the surgical team to take pictures of her in the OR before they knocked her butt out. She has this really incredible picture of her standing next to her OR bed and in between two hot, but gowned and gloved men. She looked like she was getting ready to get on a carnival ride--she had such a goofy smile on her face! At the time they took the photo she was drug free. I will try to post that photo tomorrow.

We have certainly appreciated the prayers. She said she wasn't nervous going in and the pictures certainly prove it.

9:30 AM, Tuesday, June 24th

I wasn't sure how to title this post.  I kept vacillating between the date and "The Longest Summer Ever" even though I know it is still only June.  For some reason the last four weeks of my life have absolutely dragged by (drag, drug ? not sure the verb tense). 

My mom's surgery has been moved up to 9:30 and while this may sound like a strange request, I'm asking for everyone that reads this blog between now and then to send a prayer or a thought her direction.  Better yet, share it with your friends or post a message on your blogs asking for prayer. 

I will be keeping this blog updated and my dad will keep her blog updated (yes, the Mad Mama's mama has a blog) as long as the hospital has free Internet service. 

We are hoping that she will soon be able to wear the "Survivor" bracelet she bought right after the diagnosis.  In the meantime, we are going to try and have some fun with this (yes, I know, how can we possibly think there is fun in this--but you would have to know my family to understand.  This is just how we cope). 

My mom has always been the healthiest person I know.  She never gets sick.  Never stops working.  She's the freakin' Energizer Bunny and I've grown up hearing her say to both my sister and me "I don't know why you two are such weenies.  I come from strong people" or "are you sick again?  You didn't get that from me".  Yeah, peeps, she is tough as nails.  I'm pretty sure she will be able to out-run me, out arm-wrestle me for years to come--so the fact that we are going to see SuperWoman appear to be human for a few days is quite an amazing thing.  Scary, for sure, but we all plan on taking advantage of it.  I'm thinking we are going to have contests on which of the three of us (my dad included) can hit the pain pump button the most on her behalf, or bet on the number of staples on her belly, or help her to the toilet (I'm thinking that one will be a game of 'who touched her last?'). 

I hope that you will keep my mother and our family in your prayers over the next couple of days. 

Bathroom humor

I think I'm going to have to start shutting my door at work when I have to poop.

Ok, let me back that up and explain.  The building I work in is a converted nursing home so my office used to be a patient's room.  Actually, two patients.  As such, I have a bathroom in my office.  Sweet, right?  Not quite. 

I have IBS.  That is no mystery.  I have to poop a lot.  And usually with very little "wait and see" time.  And I'm sometimes loud--especially if I had the lettuce off the salad bar for lunch.  The door to the bathroom is next to the door of my office which exits out into the hall.  Because these used to be patient bathrooms, they aren't exactly sound proof.  Truth be told, you can hear better sitting on the can than any place in the building.  I can hear the guy in the next office also sitting on the can.  I can hear the people in the office across the hall whispering.  I can the meeting being held at the end of the hall.  So if I can hear all that...can they hear me?

The answer is you betcha!  My office mate is out all week for training (not that my bowel issues bother her at all), but as I was coming out of my bathroom the other day following my first post-lunch dump, I see two help desk employees sitting in my office waiting for me.  You've got to be kidding me!  So, the whole time I'm taking care of bidness, they are listening in absolute silence.  They could have knocked, they could have started talked amongst themselves, but nope, they were there for the whole show. 

Unfortunately this isn't the first time this has happened.  They sneak in like rodents waiting for me to exit my throne.  So, do I need to start shutting my exterior door every time I go?  Perhaps.  Of course, that's like hanging a sign on the door that says "Go Away.  I have to poop."  Plus, since they are usually there there to replace or repair my computer equipment (and it is so darn hard to get them over there) I don't really want them to turn and leave. 

What do I do?  Before long the entire department is going to know of my personal bowel issues. 

A short letter to my local USCIS office:

YOU SUCK.

Sincerely,

Mad Mama

 

Ok, those of you that have known me for the past couple of years and have watched my many twists and turns through adoption-land, know the trouble I have had with my local USCIS office. 

About two weeks ago my coordinator emailed me to check on the status of my new 171H.  Oops, I'll get right on that.  The homestudy was done, I finished that a few months ago, I was just lazy about making copies of the rest of the stuff.  So, two weeks ago and with 6 weeks left until my expiration, I mailed my stuff off.  I received a letter today from the USCIS office and I stupidly hoped that it was my fingerprint appointment.  Now why would I have such a stupid thought?  They want more information.  Evidently they LOST the home study update that was sent in late April/early May.  What the hell?  So now I have less than a month before my stuff expires and I'm hoping they won't lose anything else.  I've contacted my home study peeps and I'm sure she will mail it off tomorrow or the next day.  Let's hope nothing else goes missing from my file.

Oh, but the good news is that I finally made it into the Review Room!  Whoo hoo!  That's pretty exciting and if I hadn't spent all night barfing, I might actually be a bit more psyched, but I don't want to mess up the tummy.  Let's just say I won't be eating hamburger again for a while.  Ugh.  The thought of that makes me want to puke all over again.  Unfortunately I have an aversion to puking in toilets (why would you stick your face where you normally poop?  I don't get it.) which made for a real messy clean-up.  I wish I could have called my mama for that one!

I ventured out this evening because I wanted to test if I was strong enough to return to work tomorrow.  I drove to the gas station because my gas light was on and I desperately wanted some 7-Up.  I look like hell, I know that.  I'm pasty white, nearly gray.  My hair is short and sticking up all over, my breath smells like puke and I'm wearing yesterday's undies and my jammies.  Yeah, so I'm looking pretty hot.  The guy behind the counter is Indian and says to me "very pretty picture, your license."  Are you freakin' kidding me?   I respond "yeah, I look a lot better when I don't have the flu".  I look like crap, my voice sounds like crap, and I smell like crap.  Yeah, it's a good day.  Can't wait to go back to work tomorrow... 

Happy Father's Day

...from my grill to your's. 

  I know there are a lot of single ladies out there being both mom and dad to their kids.  I celebrate you along with all the dads today.  Happy Father's Day!

Thoughts of my daughter...

Yesterday I celebrated (?)/remembered/pondered/marked the day I logged my dossier into the CCAA.  Yes, it has been 16 months.  I assume that people think I have just moved on, but I haven't.  I think of my daughter every day.  I miss the nights where I dreamed of her.  When I saw her face and smelled her skin and watched her grow.  My sweet, sweet child.  I feel I have known you for so long now.  Your name is always on my lips and it is all I can do to hold it back.  My co-workers don't know of you, but I find myself catching myself before blurting "MayLing" or "My daughter...." You are my little miracle.  My gift from God.  The child that opened up my life and rocked my world.  Without even seeing you, you somehow turned my heart from stone to the softest suede.  How did you do that?   I imagine your personality and every time I think you are going to be my wild child--a child of all heart and soul that challenges me and my notions of right and wrong.  I can't wait to learn what you are going to teach me.  Until then, I pray every night that God give me just a little more time with you.  Those moments when my dreams seep into my reality sustain me in ways I can not express.  I remember the feeling of your skin against mine--oh, how it felt so real!  I could still feel you when I awoke and the emptiness in my arms felt strangely awkward.  Sweet dreams, baby girl, until we meet again in twilight. 

PSA

While there are a lot of male bloggers out there, adoption blogging still remains a woman's domain for the most part.  I have learned that I have a couple of men that follow my blog and as one woman told me why her husband reads "he thinks you're funny".  Michael reminded me this weekend that it has been a while I have had a poop story and while I probably have some butt-ammo on that one (especially since Michael introduced me to Kashi high fiber cereal.  Really?  Do we need more than 1/3 of our daily requirement in the first hour that we are awake?  I don't think so) because I had about 16-18 grams of fiber before 10 am yesterday.  Yikes. 

Anywho, I wanted to give the men the opportunity to "check out" before I go on.  The blogs during the month of June will primarily focus on women's health--or lack thereof.  There will be some information that men may not really want to know about women.  I've heard some men profess surprise to learn that women fart.  Are you kidding me?  I can out-fart about any man I know--and usually I'm holding back the big ones (I don't want to embarrass them).

So, today's PSA (public service announcement) is very specific to the female "parts" and may be a bit graphic for some.  I did get the affected party's expressed permission before retelling her harrowing account.  Her name or location will not be revealed.

If you are a girl, you know what this is:All of us have at least one because we often get them for free when we buy soap or "specialty" bath products.  I think that is code for overpriced, smelly stuff that we slather on our skin.  This woman relayed this story to me:

I was washing up this morning and I had one of those scrunchy wash thingys.  I usually have the rope around my wrist so I don't drop my scrunchy.  Well, after I finished washing south of the border I couldn't find the string.  I looked all over the shower floor and couldn't find it.  As I stood up I felt a pinch in my you know and spread my legs to check.  Sure enough, that little bastard was up there.  The rough end of it had gotten stuck up there and when I yanked on it (insert laughter on my part because I was picturing the worst tampon string ever), well, that scrunchy molested me.  It actually tore a piece of my skin out!  But that wasn't the worst part.  The worst part was as I was getting ready to leave for work--I used the bathroom and my pee burned so bad I was almost sick!  There should be a warning label on those things.    

So there you have it ladies--it's not the Salmonella on your cutting board or the floating poop particles on your toothbrush you need to worry about.  You really need to look at your more intimate products and make sure they can't hurt you!

Pace yourself

I'm one of those all or none kind of people.  I either want to mow the entire yard at one time or not at all.  Once I start on something I want to complete it.  I've been known to sit through really horrible movies and read through really horrible books just so I could finish them.  There isn't much that I start that I don't finish. 

In the spring (uh, two weeks ago) when the weather was nice I just didn't have the physical or emotional energy to work on my yard.  I was exhausted for a number of reasons, some that I have shared on here, many that I have not.  Because of that, I missed the planting and yard prep season.  So what did I decide to do?  I decided to wait until it is in the 90s to suddenly attack my overgrown weed plot that used to be a garden.  In stead of pacing myself over a couple of days, I decided to do it all today.  In the 90s.  I didn't feel anything but the sweat on my brow and the sun on my neck until I finished.  Then I pulled my work gloves off and noticed that I went beyond blistering my skin (I probably blistered two hours ago), I tore the flesh deep into my hand.  On both hands where the fingers and palm meet, I am raw.  I guess I won't be mowing the grass today...or tomorrow. 

Here we go again

Looks like it's time to grab the cat and hide in the bath tub again. I just had my cable and internet restored and here we go again...

Hellacious weather continues

Wow, I thought Friday night was bad (the tornados), but I think the past 24 hrs have been worse!  Last night we had some nasty storms roll through, but they didn't affect us too much here--mostly rain and lots of thunder and lightening.  During the night (3?  4?  I have no idea) we had another round go through that shook the house and and as I slipped into work around the butt-crack-of-dawn this morning I managed to get in minutes before another round hit us.  Honestly, it was like a monsoon out there.  I normally LOVE thunderstorms--to this day I still like to stand out on the patio and get soaked with rain, but today was another story.  Today just sitting next to the window at work made me nervous.  The street lights came on yesterday afternoon and didn't turn off until late morning today.  It got sunny and hot (HOT & HUMID--I hate this stuff already) this afternoon and we were all deluded into thinking it was over.  WRONG.  I happened to look at the weather screen at work and noticed that there was a big pile of red over the town my parents live in the next state over that would be heading towards us.  I was smart and decided to call it a day.  I barely got home and it hit again.  I had no power for a couple of hours and because it was storming so hard (at 4 in the afternoon) it was pitch black in my house.  I admit, I was a little bit nervous.  Lightening lit up the house and thunder shook my foundations for over two hours!  When it finally cleared I surveyed the damage.  This is my neighbor's yard next door: This is my back yard:

  This is more of her yard.

Should I also mention that we are all on septic tanks back here?  Ick. In addition, I now have new mulch in my yard!  The guy living in the house behind me just mulched ALL his trees this weekend.  It's now mine. All mine (insert evil laugh here). 

While this may look minor, it actually got worse as I ventured onto the road.  Of course trees and branches were down, but the hard rain and fast current actually washed the gravel driveways down to the road.  There were piles of stone everywhere across the roadway making it treacherous.  As I ventured further I saw where the storm or rain had actually pulled up the asphalt and tossed it into neighboring yards.   At a friend's house her road was essentially gone and they had something else that was kind of funky--it looked as if someone had grabbed the edge of the grass and just pulled it up and off the lawn.  The sod was rolled up over itself.  I have never seen that before during any storms here and I have lived here nearly a decade. 

Downtime the streets and businesses were flooded and some reported the water was waist high in areas.  You could actually see cars bobbing around as they sat parked in lots.  Every time the bus would force itself through the water it would create ripples that caused the cars to float and bump into each other.  Please pray for those affected by the storms because I don't think flood damage is covered on most insurance plans whether it is for home, business or car. 

Because I just can't stop myself

well girl, goodbye,
after thirty-eight years.
thirty-eight years and you
never arrived
splendid in your red dress
without trouble for me
somewhere, somehow.

now it is done,
and i feel just like
the grandmothers who,
after the hussy has gone,
sit holding her photograph
and sighing, wasn't she
beautiful? wasn't she beautiful?

    ~Poem to My Uterus

         by Lucille Clifton

That's right, Mom, the count down to U-day has officially begun!

...you take your uterus out and you shake it all about

Well, we finally have a date.  As much as I wish that sounded like something good, it's the date of my mom's surgery.  And as scary as it is to have major surgery I am looking forward to one thing:  seeing my mom drunk off her a** from a narcotic pain pump.  She's isn't going to know what hit her!  Whenever we are all together she always keeps her eyes open to any shenanigans that Dad, Sarah and I might get into.  She's afraid (rightfully so) that we are teaming up on her.  Well, I dare her to try to keep even one lid open for us while on the goofy juice. 

I always thought it was fun trying to get g'ma drunk on the holidays, but this is going to be so much better.  So, on June 24th I hope you will join with me and raise your glass (or whatever your chemical agent of choice) and toast my mom as her uterus takes one for the team.  Thanks, Uterus, we had some good times and I'll never forget your contribution to my own life.  Why, without you, I wouldn't be here! 

Cheers!

Going out of business...

On Friday my dad called me the news after speaking to my mom's specialist/surgeon.  In his own words "they are going to gut her like a Christmas Turkey!"

I actually prefer to think of it like the sign above:  her uterus is going out of business and everything else must go!

We are still waiting to hear from the surgery scheduler which is why I haven't updated the blog.  I really wanted to have something more permanent to share--a date that everyone can focus all their prayers on (not that it matters, but there is nothing like strength in numbers...).

I want to apologize to a distant family member that learned the news from reading my blog.  I'm so sorry you found out that way--I know Mom was waiting before she knew something more before she told people.  Actually, I don't think she's told anyone outside of the immediately family.   I'm the one blabbing it to the world wide web and soliciting prayers everywhere I go.  My poor mom...if she ever meets any of my co-workers I'm sure she will get "the look".  I think people give a look any time they know something bad is going on.  They don't know how else to respond to you, but they give a look half way between pity and deer-in-the-headlights-please-don't-cry-in-front-of-me look.  Yeah, I'm already getting that look and I'm not even the one with cancer! 

The amount of support I have gotten from people is amazing.  I'm amazed at how quickly I am learning about the diagnosis, but also what it does to those in the rest of the family.  It really does affect the entire family and ripples out from there.  I'm also learning there are things you just don't say.  For example:

• She'll be fine.  You'll see!  How the **** do you know?
• It's not a death sentence anymore.  They have really made great advances in cancer care.  Oh yeah, well then why do so many people still die from it?  I'm not an idiot, I'm a nurse.  This isn't the first time I've seen cancer.
• This will really be a good time for your family to bond together and fight this.  This isn't war, people.  Besides, we were already an incredibly tight family.  I don't think cancer is going to affect that much at all.  Maybe in your family, but not mine.

From actually works:

• I'm so sorry.  I will keep your mother and your family in my prayers.   
• What can I do to help?
• The same thing happened with my [mother, father, brother, sister...fill in the blank].  If you need someone to talk to please let me know. 
• If you know support services that might be of benefit please share that information, but keep the crazy ass diet suggestions to yourself.  There will be no shark fin caplets or meeting with a Sioux shaman. 

And now a word from my mother:

You can let the people know on your blog that I appreciate all the concern and prayers for our family. I read the comments and the people were so caring. My life feels much more normal so I think I have adjusted to the cancer news or it could be the peace of God that I'm getting from all the prayers. I believe it is God answering prayer.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for all the prayers that you have sent on my mother's behalf. 

Survivor

Some of you know this woman.  She has an unintentional sense of humor, a highly analytical mind, is very wise, never admits when she is wrong, will give you an answer even if it is not the correct answer to the question.  She is incredibly strong of body and mind (do not arm wrestle this woman!). 

Her resume includes wife, mother, grandmother, aunt, sister, daughter, friend, teacher, counselor and now, cancer survivor. 

Today my mother was diagnosed with endometrial cancer. 

Please keep her and the the rest of our little family in your prayers.  

Honest to goodness snail chain mail

Wow, it has been years since I have even heard the phrase "chain mail".  Now we have the digital version with crazy emails going around promising that if you make a wish and send it to your twenty closest friends that your wish will come true!  I'm guessing most people in adoption land scoff (especially in the China program) because we have wished, prayed and promised our days away waiting for our kids. 

Anyway, I received my first snail chain mail since I was probably 12.  Evidently you spread the paper prayer rug under your bed, say a prayer, send some money (along with prayers for whatever dollar amount you need) and viola, you receive money!  Evidently if you look into Jesus's eyes (on the paper prayer rug) they will initially appear closed, but you will then see them open the longer you focus on it.  I have to be honest...the whole thing kind of creeps me out. 

You are supposed to return the paper prayer rug before the next sunset or else you will not receive any money.  I don't think my PPR has been used, but if it has, ewww.  I don't like the thought of how many grubby fingers may have handled it before it arrived on my doorstep. 

I'm not bitter and I'm not anti-Christian (far from it if you know me), but the whole premise of God working in such a narrow window (twenty-four hours from letter arrival) seems rather mind boggling when you consider this verse:

For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus." Philippians 1:5-7 NAS

Hmmm...so you mean God will continue to mold me and break me and stretch me into the person I'm meant to be regardless of this piece of crap mailing? 

Yep, and for further affirmation:

Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV) "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future".

For more information on the man spreading the "good news" check this website: http://george.loper.org/trends/2003/Apr/815.html

And to totally change the subject, I was flipping through the channels and came across the show "One Tree Hill".  Is it just music?  I think Rambo movies have more dialogue.  Am I missing something?

Ahhh, a wonderful weekend

The last time Kristen came down for a weekend, we celebrated our 12 month LID and the fact that the CCAA had finally cleared the last of 2005.  This time I think our theme should be "eating our way through Indiana". 

On Friday we went to Nashville, a wonderful little town that I never remember we have until she visits.  Really, how cute is this store?!?  We both bought little mom and babe socks at one of the local stores that produces original socks.  They also produce the sock-wear for several NBA teams and others that I now have forgotten. 

One of the first stops we made was at a candy store...we were literally like two kids in a candy store.  I want some of that, and some of that, oh, and some of that!  What kind of moms are we going to be?  Well, probably moms with hidden sugar issues.  We had an awesome day there and the weather cooperated beautifully!  I think rain was forecast all weekend, but it magically ended when she arrived on Thursday. 

On Saturday, we did some last minute shopping at Lowe's and I found the perfect curtains for MayLing's room!  I'm not kidding...absolutely perfect.  They were exactly what I had been imagining, but hadn't been able to find and they were cheap!  Plus, because they are so long, I should be able to cut off the bottom of the curtain and use that material to re-finish my rocking chair.  My mom saved my very first little rocker and now my niece loves to rock in it.  The only problem is that it was in my parents garage for many years and needs some TLC before it will be good for the next generation.  My poor niece is stuck with a wobbly chair until I get it all figured out. 

On Saturday afternoon we painted the final room in my house that needed painted.  When I bought the house 2 years ago, every room was painted the same awful beige color.  I got most of it painted the first few months I lived here (thanks Mom and Dad!), Dad painted MayLing's room last year, but because this room has some seriously heavy furniture that I couldn't move by myself, I didn't paint it when I was laid off.  Many, many thanks to Kristen for volunteering to help when we could have been shopping or doing something far more interesting.   Fortunately for her, she knows I don't have anything left to paint!

Last night, though exhausted, we decided to make a run to Wal-Mart for a couple of items.  Who knew it would take the Wal-Mart staffers nearly an hour to figure out where the key was to the propane tank cage, find the correct key, and then find a full tank?  Well, not me.  The good news is that I finally have my grill and my tank so I am ready to start grilling!  I'm kind of pooped today, but I think I will attempt something tomorrow or Tuesday. 

• Favorite comment from this weekend spoken by a very young salesperson in Nashville: "But he's black" when she learned that Mariah Carey married Nick Cannon who is AA and 11 years her junior.  Wow, I really can't believe you said that.
• Favorite photo: Done!  Actually, my favorite photo was of getting tripped up in my futon mattress and being so tired and contorted that I rolled around like a beached whale.  Unfortunately, also not a flattering photo. 
• Favorite meal/food item:  definitely the peanut coconut thingys we had in Nashville.  Or the wonton soup from yesterday.  We had a lot of good options. 
• Favorite moment: wow, tough pick.  I think some of the unspoken ones were my favorite...like Plumber's Crack guy.  Thanks for taking one for the team.  Or the moment I realized that I really liked the colors that I picked out for the spare bedroom.  Or finding the perfect curtains for my daughter's room.  How did you know that was exactly what I was wanting?!? 

Maternity Leave planned

As you may remember, I lost my maternity leave last year when I lost my job. I had about six weeks saved up in "sick" time and another month in PTO--I was sitting pretty for having only saved for about a year. I'm still a bit miffed about losing it and while I realize that I will likely save up the required time while I continue with my 4-5 year sentence wait for MayLing.

I did learn, however, that the great state of Indiana is finally adopting a practice that is in place in many other states: incarcerated mothers get to keep their kids with them in special prison units until the child is 18 months. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? If I plan things just right...after my final I-600A application and fingerprinting...I could get 18 whole months with babygirl! Of course, MayLing would be an only child since I would be disqualified from ever adopting again, but just think of the bonding time we would have together!

ggrrhhh. Terri just informed me that my blog ALSO has those horrible squiggly word verifications. Sorry, it didn't show up on the web browser I normally use, but when I switched to Mozilla Firefox I saw it. No worries--I removed it! Happy commenting!

Happy 15 Month LIDversery to me!

Wow, this is becoming a habit.  It's been over a week since I last blogged--I'm sorry.  I promise to work on that this week.  The truth is I have a lot to say, but by the time I get to the keyboard I am too overwhelmed that my left brain doesn't recall any of the witty banter it was exchanging with the right brain.  So, here I sit with nothing to say.

Here is one random thought I've been meaning to mention--I think I have a teensy weensy bit of dyslexia.  I check your blogs every day, I truly do, but if your blog requires a "word verification" code in order to leave a comment and the comment is longer than 4 letters and squiggly as hell--well, I can't handle it.  You ought to see the number of times I type it out in frustration, submit it and watch it spit out a new code.  So, if you haven't heard anything from me, it's nothing personal, I am just incapable to leaving comments right now.  For some reason they've started adding more letters and the script is very distorted and no, I'm not a whiny old hag. 

Have you ever clicked on the wheelchair sign next to the "word verification" spot?  No?  Well, I dare you!  Don't type anything in, just click on the wheelchair.  It's kind of creepy, but I don't want to give it away...you'll just have to check for yourself. 

I got some new deodorant yesterday, which really isn't a big deal except that the deodorant I got a few weeks ago has really wrecked my pits.  They changed the formula for my usual deodorant and now it is wet and sticky for the first 8 hours of the day.  After that it sets in like craft glue and when I attempted to shave my pits the day after wearing the new deodorant I took off a couple of layers of skin.  No joke--my sister is my witness and saw the chunks of missing underarm.  So I picked up a new one yesterday--different brand and everything.  Well, I think I got a men's deodorant because I realize now that the reason I chose it is because it smells like my favorite cologne--on a man.  Between the men's deodorant, the sink repair that I completed on Mother's Day AND purchasing my first gas grill yesterday, well, I'm feeling very dudesque. 

The grill has given me a hyper-inflated sense of self confidence when it comes to cooking.   Truth is, I sweat it everytime I have someone over for dinner.  I want it to be perfect, but now that I have the grill I feel invincible.  At the very least, I can blame the bad food on the grill. 

My next plan: patio furniture!