Tuesday, August 30, 2011

There Was A BEAR In My DEN!!!

Okay, so... there wasn't a bear in my den, he wasn't really anywhere near my house (I don't think???).  However, there IS a bear moving up from the city and heading our way.  I know this because the news keeps covering him.  I supplement the stories the news does on our soon to be furry scavenging resident with any and everything I can find on him.  I think he is cute, as long as he is south of our little area.  We spend a lot of time outside at parks!  I am not at all okay with him moving close by.  He can come... but he needs to show that he understands boundaries.   

As it turns out, I watched a story just last night on the news.   Tater (the bear), is ever closer.  He is now passing thru Sandy Springs! 

Anyway, this morning our alarmed door chime went off about an hour and 10 minutes after Rusty left for work.  I waited and listened.  I snuck out of our bedroom and peered down the stairs.  I couldn't see anything, but then again, a criminal or bear would not likely be standing at the bottom of the stairs trying to introduce himself. 

I crept down the hall and looked at the doors.  They were all locked.  I leaned over the railing to see the windows.  They were shut.  Still, I *KNEW* Tater had advanced the 20 miles up to our area and had somehow mysteriously broken in.  If it wasn't him... then a man with a gun that was there to steal the kids was waiting ever so quietly.  Neither prospect was a good one. 

Not knowing what to do, I called Rusty.  He sarcastically said, "If that damn bear has learned to both lock and unlock doors, then he would likely be in the mood for a chat and I that I should go find out why he had decided to move out of the city."  Then he made some ridiculous comment about asking Tater, about his thoughts on Suburban sprawl.  Which was followed by him hanging up on me. 

Rude.  Apparently he isn't planning to get a tattoo about guarding and protecting my heart! (if you don't watch the bachelorette, you probably don't understand that... go with it, this is my near death experience!)

I truly, was about to freak out and was actually shaking.  Alarms do not just randomly go off.  Ours never has.  SOMETHING was in my den. 

Admittedly, common sense does not come into play in a situation like this.  I can see how I *may* have overreacted... but regardless, while you may not have been afraid of a bear... hearing your door alarm when no one in the house was awake to open it, is reason for concern!

Finally I came to the conclusion that if a bear or gunman was downstairs, I was going to have to figure out on my own which one it was, so I could call someone to get it/them before it/they got us!

I slowly began my decent down the stairs, on my tip toes, holding my breath, and with my ever protective guard dog... hiding under the bed.   

The ice maker nearly gave me a heart attack.  Having the air conditioner turn on as I was turning the corner on the landing actually caused leakage.  I won't tell you where. 

So I get downstairs. Slowly I go from one wall to the other (like I saw the swat team do on the news).  Making sure not to make any loud noise.  I am about at the door when *something* taps me on my shoulder.

I rotated and jumped back against the front door while screaming at a pitch that made all 6 of the windows in the room rattle.

Poor Tabor.  He had heard me moving around and woken up.  He came to see what was going on.  I was so intent on finding Tater, I never heard Tabor.  Tabor also screamed.  It was remarkably loud for his high pitched little voice.  He too may have had leakage. 

It was waaaay too much for a Tuesday before 8 am!  I do not need more excitement in my life!!  I still have no clue what caused the alarm to go off.  There will, however, be an answer by this evening... or everyone is staying up with me tonight with lanterns and bear spray!  After all, Tater is another day closer!! 

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Life Insurance and My Dead Child?!!

This week Rusty requested that I get a policy (life insurance) on me... should I die.  I never like sentences that end with my death.  I really just don't care for them.  However, in the case that I should pass over unexpectedly or otherwise, someone will have to care for my babies and that will cost money.  I am trying to keep my tail feathers unruffled and in their designated location. 
It goes against everything in me.  I am firmly in the "Do NOT put my name on it... until I am in it," grave marker category.  Life insurance, wills, etched grave markers, they all seem like really freaking creepy foreshadowing.  I have only had a few calls with the insurance company and am already picturing my kids gathered around my crypt with flowers. 

Anyway, that aside, this morning I spoke with said insurance company.  You could tell that the lady was not likely capable of free thought.  They had her strictly reading from her computer.  Anything else, obviously would have just been too much for her.  Mid way through, I got all kinds of enjoyment from asking her random questions her computer didn't have the answers to.  I thought she might actually cry.  Really. 

Stupid people bother me.  They do.  I get airy.  Simple is okay.  Shallow works.  Stupid irks me. 
This company has insurance on my entire family.  They also said they had retrieved all medical records for each member of my family.  Let's remember that while I tell you about our conversation.

Okay, so it starts:  Name, date of birth, scary interests (sky diving, eating fire, bungee jumping, flying planes), sexually transmitted diseases (you know... are there bumps some place there shouldn't be), how many immediate family members randomly dropped dead without a gun shot wound, etc. 

Then they get to something that had been triggered.  I had stated a case of "Baby Blues" in 2005.  The lady could see that the only child I had was born in 2002 *****PAY ATTENTION TO THIS!  IT SHOWS SHE HAD OUR MEDICAL RECORDS****.  How could it be "Baby Blues" 3 years later?

Me: Baby blues was the best way I could think to describe a situational depression that dealt with our baby.
Her: A situational depression?
Me: Well, my son had just been described as being so severely disabled that he would never talk or grow into anything other then a cute blond haired blob, my husband was moved 6 hours away for work, my family was going through their own hell, and I lived alone with our "blob" who also happened to be a cranky "blob" because he missed his daddy.  Situational. 
Her: Well, do you expect the situation to repeat itself? 

O.O   ?????????????????????????????

Me: Uh... no. 
Her: What if it did?
Me: What if the world really ends in 2012?
Which lead to her asking to move on and then her making this statement:

Me: Do you have all of our medical history in front of you?
Her: Yes, I do.
Me: You insure all of us, right?
Her: (Obviously annoyed) Yes, we do.
Me: Might I ask which child of mine has sprouted wings?
Her: (Looking through something, another long pause.)  I can't find that page.
Me: Well, all 3 of them were at my table for breakfast this morning. 
Her: Awwwe  (I still don't know if the "Awwwwe" was for the cute family having breakfast or because she thought I had a bowl full of baby ashes at one of their places to be *with* us. )
Me: Let me assure you, no one has died. 
Her: How are you handling that?

O.O  ???????

Really??  I mean really??  Are you listening to my answers???

Me: Well, it depends on the moment.  Yesterday I was upset because Penelope was still with us.  This morning though, it was definitely Tabor's noisy presence I was depressed over. 
Her:  I understand.

I had to laugh.  I just didn't know how to respond anymore.  "Hello stupid human... are ya in there?!!" 

This is not making me feel better about having my name put on a policy talking about "in case of my death." Damn!  Will she even know I'm dead?  What if the computer forgets to prompt her?  Or for that matter, who's to say in a few years we won't get a check saying that they are saddened by my unfortunate demise? 

To someone freaked out by that kind of stuff... getting a letter with my death date on it will do me in.  I assure you, that too, will cause a "situational depression."  I do not wish to have my neighborhood mail Currier inform me that I not only forgot to be present for my own death... but simply missed it all together.  Yikes.  No.  I guess it beats the alternative??  Still, is it too much to ask that they pull it together and get things right?

Surely not!  I am not enjoying becoming insured.  I am most foul. 

Next up??  I get to be tested for HIV.... because my risk category is so high... after having 3 kids and being tested with each of the 3 kids.  Who has time for risky behavior?!  I don't have time to sleep!  I realized just yesterday that I hadn't washed my hair in 3 days!! 

At least Rusty will be happy when I am finally *insured.*  Which is a thought that is not entirely lost on me.  I have recently stopped taking open drinks from him.  Now there is a reason to knock me off and arsenic isn't commonly tested for.  My love for Dateline, and 48 hours, and Who the Bleep Did I Marry? is backfiring.  Rusty slammed the door the other day and I hit the floor... "S***!! GUN SHOTS!  He's coming for me!" 

I, of course, do not really think he would off me, but should I go missing without explanation... REMEMBER! The spouse usually knows where the body is!  :o)

Monday, August 22, 2011

I Believe...

Stealing the idea from a few other blogs... I thought it looked like fun!

I believe that life without pizza is not a life I want to live. 

I believe pizza without cheese is impostor pizza... and does not get to count as pizza. 

I believe that life insurance makes the threshold of how much someone is willing to put up with to live with you... a little lower.  (a blog will soon follow about this particular issue!)

I believe that anyone that smiles while running should be run over with a car.

I believe that spotless houses are filled with people that missed the point of living.

I believe that even when life does give you lemons... you can turn them into a festive drink and get through it! 

I believe that wine is the key to sanity. 

I believe that regardless of how much the food snobs amongst us like to grumble about the Olive Garden that their bread sticks and salad are a reason to go on.  The grated cheese that falls from the spiffy self contained grater?  Well THAT is a reason to do back flips.

I believe that all women are beautiful, but all behinds are not.  If your behind is covered in cellulite... COVER IT! 

I believe booty shorts are not meant for anyone over 30, regardless of how toned your thighs are.

I believe that there are going to be a lot of people very surprised when they get to heaven and see that, yes, THOSE people are there too. 

I believe we are all made in His image... but He didn't have babies pop out of His body... so if I want a tummy tuck and a boob job, He will understand. 

I believe that tattoos are rarely appreciated for an entire lifetime.  A rose vine around the ankle is not quite so great when a curious grandchild asks what the saggy ink is. 

I believe that starting when I can no longer keep my body parts in the same general area that they are supposed to be in, I am going to let loose and eat the world!  If I am buried in anything short of a double wide casket... something has gone awry! 

I believe that gay people will not only be in heaven... but they will decorate it too! 

I believe that Tequila and clothes truly do not go together... which is why I stopped drinking Tequila in public. 

I believe that some people like being miserable. 

I believe that the Bachelor, Bachelorette, and Bachelor Pad are truly the most fun the big screen in front of me has to offer!

I believe that curly fries are a gift. 

I believe cheese cake is the closest we are going to get to God, this side of heaven. 

I believe that having 3 very spoiled but truly happy children is okay. 

I believe that 8 Heads in a Duffel Bag is a funny fricking movie...and I am lost at why everyone else hates it. 

I believe that people who spend millions of dollars on art that my dog could create... need help.

I believe that the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills look like plastic, expressionless ducks.  They are however great entertainment!

I believe that regardless of what I throw away today, I will think of a use for it tomorrow. 

I believe that women should not lead our country.  I had a particularly bad case of PMS last week and would have wiped half the country off the face of the earth if given the opportunity. 

I believe... Im out of beliefs!  lol. 

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

How I Found Presley This Morning

When you go in to wake your "sleeping" babies up in the morning, you do not expect to see this:

Especially when your babies sleep in crib tents that zip around the mattress.  One expects that a baby left in a crib tent, will remain in a crib tent until one unzips the crib tent and lifts the baby safely to the ground.  Waking to find baby in the glider... really does not cross one's mind!!!  (I know, Im "one")  

Apparently when refusing to go to sleep last night and pitching her princess style fit, Presley found her favorite Strawberry Shortcake Character: 

Meet Plum!
She used sweet and smelly (all strawberry shortcake characters are scented... and they stink!) Plum to make an escape route in her crib tent as seen in the picture below:

This "escape route" was obviously big enough for both Plum and Presley to climb up onto the top of the tent and climb down the side of the crib. 

From what I can tell Presley... got down, got MOST of the clothes from her closet, diapers from her diaper holder, diaper cream from the container we make it in... and mixed it all together.  This can be seen in the next two pictures:

I can't tell for sure, but it seems as though Presley was up most of the night.  She turned off all the fans and sound machines.  She turned on all of the lights in both her room and closets.  She couldn't have been asleep long when I found her sprawled out in the chair (picture at the top) with her blanky and long sleeve princess top from two years ago.  She later decided that she was going to wear said shirt, even if it took 10 minutes to get over her head (WAAAY TOO SMALL!).  You can see the shirt in the picture below that shows A VERY tired Presley and Penelope at around 10 in the morning when we went on a family outing to buy a new Crib Tent.  I think this is a good sign that she is not ready to be without it!  
Comatose Presley... probably should have slept instead of making her room into a white creamy fluffy disaster area!

Sister kept me up all night too!!  Do you see my eyes?!! 

Monday, August 8, 2011

It Tis the First Week of School!!

Oh Sh**! 

I would be lying if I said, I wasn't ready for the peace and solitude of the days with just Penelope... but there is soooo much to be done! 

With the beginning of school, also came the beginning of football season last week.  I am delighted to say that Tabor did get drafted back onto the same team as last year!  I couldn't be any happier!!  We were able to keep a large portion of our team from last year and the new kids, in large part are really good!!  So excited!!  Tabor is in heaven!!  I just love watching the new kids.  We had a new player last year, so I can laugh this year.  Little people do not come used to getting pancaked to the ground.  Until they get used to it and see that the pads DO really take a lot of the impact, they cry.  Some more then others.  It is HI LARIOUS to watch the ones who are really babied by their parents.  This one poor boy cried for the entire 2 hours of the 2nd practice.  Sobbed.  His mother was about to lose her mind.  I think the rest of us scared her.  Our kids would hurt their leg or arm and we were all yelling from the side line, "YOU HAVE ANOTHER ONE!  GET BACK IN THERE!"  "IF YOU MUST CRY... DO IT WHILE RUNNING!"  She kept staring at us, obviously disturbed.  Towards the end of practice, her son was rolling around on the ground screaming that he had broken his back.  I thought she was going to die right there on the side line.  Having the coach go up behind him on the field, lift him to his feet, pat him on the butt and tell him because he was standing it was not broken and to get back in there... didn't help.  You truly can't pay to see comedy like that.  Great fun.  They will get there before long though.  All the kids do. (Our coaches are amazing.  They don't take injuries lightly... they know when it is just nerves and attention seeking) 

After practice on Saturday, We had to go back to school shopping.  DANGER!!  Tabor was easy.  He has to wear uniforms.  Uniforms ROCK!!  I log on to Lands End, type in the school number, put in my credit card information... and all clothing shows up on my door step a week later.  AWESOME!! 

Presley, on the other hand... that was more difficult.  We took her to Target to look at clothes.  "Uh... NO!"  (she says with hands on hips and eyes rolled back in her head.)  We tried Macy's.  Presley refused to even respond to the dresses I held up.  Dillards, "Thee are the saaaame!" 

Now, keep in mind that Presley is 3 and she goes to PLAYSCHOOL, they have a big blow up bouncy they play on each day and a playground and they do arts and crafts and watch movies.  They learn a little here and there... but this is about running, and jumping, and rolling around on the ground, and clothes do not last long in these kinds of situations.  Presley refuses shorts and pants.  We know this.  She is already the prissiest girl in any group.  We need to tone it down a little... and that didn't happen. 

Last night, I was searching around for Disney things for our trip and Presley saw a fully appliqued princess dress.  "THAT!  I WEAR THAT!!" 

Ruh roh.  I quickly searched for several plain princess dresses.  "Uh, I pincess... that not pincessceeeee!"
So, being the great and grand parents that we so obviously are... we loaded her school wardrobe with more fluff and tulle and frill then any person should ever look at.  She is going to look like Madonna in church.  We just laugh at her and shake our heads, I always said I wanted a priss.  Be careful what you ask for!!  God listens... and He is a funny funny God!! 

I am also ordering her a princess apron to protect the fluff during art.  Most people are probably rolling their eyes and questioning our sanity... but I would imagine her teacher would expect little less.  To know Presley... is to embrace the crazy. 

Not wanting to leave Penelope out... Sweet Penelope is not so sweet anymore.  We have embraced our terrible two's and found that screaming while lying on our back in the middle of the grocery store... is WAAAAAY more fun then simply riding along in the cart.  lol.  She is thinning but still a BIG baby and all this hot weather we have to sit out in for football practice just wears her out.  2 hours and my cute red head is a wet red mess.  She wants to see and be a part of everything and is not willing to stay still for a second.  I am only a few practices away from tying a cow bell around her neck.  Really.

Ahhh the joys of life with our children.  We LOVE every second of it!!