The Apocalypse Has Occurred. Husband Declared Insane.

We got back Saturday afternoon from our time with in-laws and out-laws alike. Trip was quick, we avoided most of the idiots on the road (Did you know that the vast majority of people on Highway 395 prefer to drive at or over 90 MPH? The speed limit is 65, people! I prefer to speed, but just not that much!), and we brought back a truck load of bounty from Schatt's Bakkery to share with all and sundry.

It took us about an hour to make the rounds of people who we were dropping off the goodies to before we could actually start heading for home. Our next-to-last stop was at the local Ace Hardware store. We had a coffee cake for the good folks there and The Husband got out to go give it to the appreciative audience.

He spends a few minutes inside the store, and I watched him through the window, chatting it up with our friends that work there. Then he disappeared behind the counter. When he next appeared at the door of the store, he had this wierd look on his face and he motioned to me to get out of the truck. So, I did.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," he said. "You can take it home if you want. People are so fucking mean."

And what, pray tell was "it"? A teeny tiny kitten. He and his siblings had been abandoned in a cardboard box in the desert to die. The poor things weren't even weaned yet, and looked to be about three to four weeks old.

As a bit of history here, The Husband and I used to have cats when we first got together. We each had cats separately before we got together. I love cats. I'm a cat person. The Husband likes cats, but is really more of a dog person. Over time The Husband decided that he was deathly allergic to cats (having your eyes swell up and water terribly after petting a cat can be a great indicator that you have developed this condition). So after our last two ran away/had to be put down, the proclamation went forth that there were to be no more cats in the SheepleRage land, so sayeth he. While a bit disappointed, but understanding that yes, allergies are very NOT fun (and neither are cat boxes, let's be honest!), I gave my consent to said decree forevermore or until the earth shall be split in twain, amen.

The result of this decree was the compromise that I would be able to get a lap dog. One specifically designed to do nothing but while his/her time away in my lap, adoring thing that it was. Which was why we got Jasmine, my Miniature Dachshund. She is my cat. Only she doesn't purr, which is a bit of a bummer but one with which I have learned to deal with. And she has a slavish devotion to me that sometimes gets on my nerves when I just want to be left ALONE, dammit! Cats understand these things, you know? Dogs don't. Especially dogs that are in love with you. And Jasmine is most certainly in love with me. *sigh*

Anyway, to basically be told that I could take a kitten away with me to bottle feed and love and snuggle kind of blew my mind away. I just didn't know what to say beyond "Buh?" which is not very articulate when you think about it, no?

Couching things in vague terms, it was decided that I would take one of the kittens, but only until we decided he was healthy enough to be turned over to our local cat rescue to be found a good new home. Then the minute we got home, The Husband started talking about keeping the kitten and making him an outside cat, but oh no, we have to look out for Skipper who has actually killed a cat before, and what about the birds? Again, I say "Buh?"

Holy crap, people. The man who said he never wanted a cat to darken our door step again all but thrust a tiny, shivering slip of kitten into my more than willing arms and is now plotting to keep it. He's even talking about NAMING it, while I'm still not allowing myself that little luxury.

Can somebody tell me what space aliens stole my husband and who in the heck they replaced him with?

So now I have a little dictator running my life. At the moment, he is curled up in the nape of my neck, cat napping. When he's awake, he runs around my desk, playing hide-and-go-seek in the cords on my computer. He is ravenous for food and is rapidly gaining weight. I've already started him on some baby food and will soon attempt to wean him from the bottle and onto regular kitten food. And I think he has learned to use a litter box, praise Jesus! Thank God my work doesn't give a rat's ass about me bringing him in - the folks around here love it. There's just no way I could leave him at home all day when he's not weaned.

Anyway, we may or may not have another pet. Only time will tell. I'm not really crazy about having an outdoor cat around here but having a mouser actually INSIDE the house means that he can keep up with them better than outside, 'cause there's no way in hell he can erradicate the entire population. He's only one cat, ya know?

We shall see what we shall see. I'll post a picture and a funny story about this little fuzzy thing later on tonight. Cute fuzzy things make the world a better place. Especially when they sleep all snuggled up on you.

Turkey-lurkey day!

Well, tomorrow it is.

But today, we're going to begin the long and arduous trek to the in-laws house in Nevada. How long and how arduous is this trek? Well, let's just say we're breaking it into two legs instead of shooting straight through this time. We'll leave at around 3 p.m. today and then stop in Bishop to spend the night. Total drive time? Two and a half hours. Yep. You read that right. Two and a half hours. The second leg of the trip that we'll do tomorrow? That'll be about three hours long. We're not really into over-extending ourselves this year.

Hey, man. I'm only along for the ride. 'Cause I'm just here for the food. Whatever schedule The Husband wants to have, I'm more than game. I'm on freakin vacation, people!

Seriously, though, I understand why he wants to do it this way. He has been beyond stressed with everything going on with his knees and the way things are going at work. He's tired of management, HR and his crew chief spazzing out over the whole "can't crawl on his knees" thing, tired of things being discussed behind his back about his position, tired of things being discussed with other people who are not in a need-to-know position (HIPAA violation, anyone? Anyone?), tired of the whole song and dance. And so he just wants to have some fun. So, we will.

Plus, this way we'll get to make a stop at Erik Schat's Bakkerei for some good sourdough bread and other goodies to share with the family throughout the weekend.

It will be a good Thanksgiving. It's a miracle that my father-in-law is still alive and that somehow the chemotherapy has worked beyond all our expectations. I'll get to meet some of my sister-in-law's family for the first time. And my father will be joining us again this year as well.

< .rant >

Speaking of my father. I think it's really, really NICE that a man with four grown children can really only call ONE of those children to see if he can spend the holiday with them. Because none of the others want to speak with him. For no real fucking reason (well, I'll give one sister a pass there but only because of the situation surrounding that). Thanks, guys. Thanks for showing the love. Thanks for breaking my heart having to hear my father - hell, OUR father! - essentially beg to spend Thanksgiving with family. Thanks a whole lot. I hope you think about him at some point in time this weekend. Because we're going to be having fun with him. Have fun with Mom instead, mmkay?

< / rant >

Sorry. Had to get that out there. It was really effecting me more than it should.

Now. Back to the food.

I already had a bit of practice in how to deal with the Thanksgiving spread at our company's annual Thanksgiving lunch. Turkey is going to fill me up rather quickly, while the ham is going to be much easier on me. I think I'll stick to munching on ham most of the day and save the turkey with gravy for the actual meal. A little bit of potato and a bite or two of dressing and I'll probably call it good. It's actually going to be really easy to get in all my protein, so that will be a huge plus. And if I'm not full (really big if there), then The Husband and I will probably share a piece of the cheesecake that I'm bringing.

Anyway, have good fun tomorrow with family and friends. Don't eat anything bigger than your head (yeah, right, like that's an option anymore! Hee!). And don't let the crazies on the road ruin your weekend. I'll be back next week!

Four months down, a lifetime to go

It's hard to believe it's been four months since I had my Duodenal Switch. But I have to say it's been one of the best times of my life. I feel better about myself than I have in a long time. I have more energy (even though I still prefer to live the life of a sloth!), my ginormous clothes are now hanging off my much smaller frame, and everybody notices the changes in me (more on that later).

Now how much did I lose this month, did you say? Twelve pounds. Not bad in my book. Only a pound less than the last two months. Total loss is 68 pounds - which is exactly what 11-year-old Thing One wieghs! I've lost a child! At 247, I weigh less than I did when I was pregnant with Thing Two. I really don't remember precisely when the last time I was this weight, but it was probably about two months or so after the birth of Thing Two - at least 7 years ago.

Changes for this month:

Well, aside from the mass suicide of my hair folicles (they must be acting like lemmings or something up there), everything on me feels much, um, softer. My stomach and pannus are no longer hard fat rolls, they're soft, droopy fat rolls. I don't even want to contemplate what my mons looks like after the glimpses that I got while taming the briar patch a few days ago. My inner thighs are turning into elephant ears - all soft and easily wrinkled. My bat wings are, well, getting more wing like every day. The breasts are getting softer as well, which is highly alarming to me. I will more than likely have something done to them within the next year. I don't give a damn. I love my breasts and I *will* have them, dammit!

Things that I'm not happy with:

This is hard to internalize for me. I'm very happy about the loss and how it is looking on me. What I'm NOT happy with is the constant comments about it from people. I know they mean well, and I know they're happy for me, but it gets tiring hearing the standard comments of "You're looking good! But how are you feeling?" I answer that question at least 20 times a day it seems. It gets old really quickly. While I'm a social person, I'm really more of a homebody. I don't like to be in the spotlight, and losing this weight has really put me in the spotlight. And I'm hating it. Half the time I wonder if it would have been better to Star Jones the whole thing. But then I think the questioning and exclamations over the loss of weight would have been worse.

Also, it's getting tiring always having to be "on." If I'm not smiling and radiant, obviously it means that this is a horrible thing that I've done to myself, I'm sick, I need to see the doctor, etc., etc., etc. Can I just have a day when I'm down for no particular reason? Can I PLEASE be moody for once? It doesn't mean the end of the world. It means that I'm being me for crying out loud. I have more hormones shooting around in my body on a daily basis right now than I usually do when I'm PMSing. I'm going to be moody. I'm going to be cranky. I'm going to get angry over little things sometimes. Get over it. Because I sure do quickly.

Things I would like to improve upon:

My temper. I've always had a short fuse, but with all these extra hormones, it's twice as bad. I don't like being angry over stupid little things, but I find myself in that situation more than I would like. On the other hand, for some odd reason having this surgery has given me patience in other arenas that I never would have dreamed. I just need to push that new-found serenity into the areas where I'm quick to flame up.

Supplement regimine. While I'm consistant during the week when we have a set schedule with work, school and chores, when it comes to the weekend, I'm not as good with my vitamins and calcium as I should be, and I have to kick myself in the ass several times to get things going. Because most of what I take is liquid, it's not like a pill box would help me. I'm going to have to start figuring a better way to do this to make sure I make a habit that lasts a lifetime.

Conclusions:

It's a mixed bag for me, but overall this whole process has been very satisfying. It's putting me in a place where I need and want to be insofar as my weight and controlling it. While I may get snappish at the little things along the way, at the end of the day I can step back and say that I did what was right for me and I'm reaping the benefits. What more can you ask for?

Parenting is hard

Note to the childless: Do not, I repeat, DO NOT envy your friends who have children. They are in a world of hell you cannot imagine and really don't want to experience.

*Sigh*

I love my kids, I really, really do. But sometimes you just don't know what to do.

It was report card day for Thing One and Thing Two on Monday. A day when every child who hasn't been up to scratch with their work trembles in fear at the reaction their parents will have to a slew of bad grades. A day when parents like The Husband and I dread with having to deal with children with grades so far apart a semi-truck could be driven through the gap, and do it in a manner that doesn't downplay one's achievement or unnecessarily torment the other.

Thing Two did it again. For the fourth quarter in a row, she has gotten straight A's. It would have been five quarters in a row, but the first quarter of last year she got a 91 percentage on something. And the girl's school gives the letter grades by a stricter standard than the usual 100-90 = A, 89-80 = B, etc. To me, it was still an A, you know? And this is pretty damn spectacular in my book. Hellfire, *I* never got straight As and I was a fairly good student. So yeah, we're pretty darn happy with the little blonde munchkin.

Thing One, unfortunately, has been having a really hard time of it this school year so far. She has chosen poorly when it comes to her homework and in studying certain things, trying to slip them past us because we didn't know that something was particularly assigned. She's dealing with a teacher that is much more exacting and picky (to the point of stupidity sometimes) than the two she's had before. She's starting to go through hormonal changes as she becomes a woman. And all of it shows in grades she got for the first quarter. The highest grade was an 87. A nice high B in my book. Then there were the Cs, the Ds and yes. A big, fat F.

Needless to say, the poor thing was in tears all afternoon over this. She felt like she was the biggest failure in the world. We knew that there had been problems with her work, and that she was sabotaging herself. We had hoped that changes had been made soon enough to get her a better grade than this in that particular subject. But apparently they weren't.

So on the one hand, we have the shining angel student that every parent dreams of, and on the other hand, we have the struggling, feeling like a failure student. Every word or action of praise that we give to one, feels like a nail to the heart of the other. Every word or action of discipline you speak to one makes the other feel subtly superior than her older sister. (Oh no! No sibling rivalry here at all. NOT!) But you can't NOT praise the one without making her efforts trivial, and you can't NOT discipline the other without making her bad actions and poor choices trivial.

It's not that Thing One isn't smart enough to get better grades. If that was the case, then we would deal with it by tutoring her or something like that. She's gotten straight As before as well. This was a case where she chose to specifically ignore work, ignore studying; keeping it all waiting until the last minute where of course there was no time to complete it or to get a good dose of studying in. The results were painfully obvious on both the work she brought home and in the report card.

But the one thing that this has taught me is that The Husband and I have drastically different expectations of Thing Two. I believe that a child her age and grade level (11 years, 6th grade)should be responsible enough to do the work expected of her without being hovered over. SHE is responsible to show me her completed assignments so that I can check them over for correctness. SHE is responsible for coming to me when she has a question about something. SHE is responsible to make sure they are done in a timely fashion. SHE is responsible for making time for studying instead of reading or watching TV or playing outside. This is not a hand-holding exercise for me. While I will happily give the daily questioning/warning of "Is your homework done?" the rest of it is up to her.

The Husband wants to take a firmer hand in the matter, that it shouldn't be left up to her entirely. Okay. Fine. Maybe she's not ready for that kind of responsibility. I can see that possibility. But what I don't agree with is that he thinks this is dropped entirely in my lap to deal with.

You, my dearest love, are entirely able to check her homework as well and to make sure that all assignments are completed. There are two parents in this household, last time I checked. Don't sell your intelligence short, and tell me that I'm the "smart" one here and you don't know what you are doing. I hoist the BS flag on this one. You want to lower the boom? Then you be the one to do it and I will back you up. We both work full-time jobs, and this is not about our usual division of labor. This is about our children. We're equals in this arena, with equal responsibility, babe.

It's going to be tough, this next quarter. Thing One has to bring up her grades. I'm not going to complain if the majority of them are Cs. Cs at this school are the public schools' Bs. But no more Ds, and certainly no more Fs. Priveledges will be curtailed. Life will not be all fun and games. But my little girl has got to know that responsibility for things in her life fall on her shoulders. It's the only way that we're going to be able to train her up to survive in the real world. We'll do her no favors by hand-holding her all the way through her senior year. At some point, it has to be up to her.

Good luck, sweetie. Mommy will be here to help you out. But I know you can stand on your own two feet. And you'll be good at it, I promise.

Yesssssss!

I busted through. Two hundred and forty-nine pounds, baby! Whooo-hooo! And here I thought the scale was just tormenting me by hovering just above 250. Never even saw that number and just went straight on by. Ha!

I'll make another post probably this afternoon. Work has me swamped for once, but I haven't forgot y'all, Innernets.

Tagged. Again. *sigh*

1. Explain what ended your last relationship.
   Well, there was that whole thing about him cheating on me, and then not making up his mind about what he wanted even though I forgave him and eventually he decided that he wanted to be with a *different* girl and I ended up meeting The Husband when he moved out of my house and into The Husband's house. Heee!
   
2. When was the last time you shaved?
   Yesterday.
   
3. What were you doing this morning at 8 a.m.?
   Walking into work after dropping off the children at school.
   
4. What were you doing 15 minutes ago?
   Wasting time online.
   
5. Are you any good at math?
   Hell yeah! I am a "visual" mathematician. Drove my instructors crazy. My brain skips steps in complex problems. Can't show my work.
   
6. Your prom night?
   Ahh, prom! I didn't go to my Senior Prom because my class were all wankers. But I did go to prom as a sophomore. Very fun. Stayed out really late. Went with awesome people. My date actually asked me in front of my then-boyfriend. Boyfriend gave permission because he couldn't afford to take me. Very wierd. He ended up going as well, but with someone else (we broke up for some reason). It was all good.
   
7. Do you have any famous ancestors?
   None that I know of. We're all very bland. Although I have a cousin several times removed who used to be the head coach for the San Francisco 49ers.
   
8. Have you had to take a loan out for school?
   Thank God, no.
   
9. Do you know the words to the song on your myspace profile?
   I don't "do" Myspace.
   
10. Last thing received in the mail?
    &*#*&!!## election thingies.
    
11. How many different beverages have you had today?
    Two. Protein drink and crystal light.
    
12. Do you ever leave messages on peoples answering machine?
    Yes, but I hate to talk to a machine. I never know what to say.
    
13. Who did you lose your CONCERT virginity to?
    Heh, heh! Oingo Boingo's Day of the Dead concert in 1988.
    
14. Do you draw your name in the sand when you go to the beach?
    Um, no. Why?
    
15. What was the most painful dental procedure you have had?
    Toss up between braces and getting my cord cut.
    
16. What is out your back door?
    Acres and acres of nothing. Then the mountains. Ahhhh!
    
17. Any plans for Friday night?
    Umm, sleep?
    
18. Do you like what the ocean does to your hair?
    Not particularily.
    
19. Have you ever received one of those big tins of 3 different popcorns?
    Yes. They're disgusting.
    
20. Have you ever been to a planetarium?
    Yes. The Griffith Observatory. Very nice.
    
21. Do you re-use towels after you shower?
    Of course. It's not like I'm wiping dog poo off my body. It's water. The end.
    
22. Some things you are excited about?
    Hrm. My fabric collection, my melting fat, my droopy clothing.
    
23. What is your favorite flavor of JELLO?
    Depends on how it's used. Peach probably.
    
24. Describe your keychain(s).
    I have far too many. They have way too many keys on them. One of them has a Coach snowflake pendant that The Husband spent way too much money on for a keychain fob. Another has a cheap-ass purple enormous safety pin (think four to five inches long) on it. A third has a small pink sting ray bean bag on it.
    
25. Where do you keep your change?
    Either in the bottom of my purse or in a huge mason jar in the bedroom.
    
26. Do you sleep with the door to your room open or closed?
    Closed. I'm paranoid that way.
    
27. Did you read this far? Consider yourself tagged.
    I hate this. You can ignore it if you feel like it.

Election Day - It's over! Yay!

Praise Jesus and pass the potatoes! Election day is over. No more lying politicians gracing my TV screen, telling me that so-and-so is a retard or telling me that I *have* to vote for this proposition because he/she knows ever so much more than me. They're gone! Whoo-hooo!

I must say that I am spectacularly pleased at the huge number of people in this country that turned out to vote. Finally people are beginning to take their civic duties seriously! It's about damn time! I honestly don't give a rat's ass that the GOP lost their control in the Senate (House too? I haven't checked the returns yet this morning). It means that the people were out there, making their will known and it was a good thing! If I'm going to be outvoted on my candidates, it had better be because more than half of the electorate got off their asses and voted, rather than the piss-poor showing that it's been lately.

I had to stand in line for an hour last night just to get to a voting machine. And this is in a very small precinct. It was awesome! Usually, voting here was a breeze in and breeze out kind of a thing. But they had a line of at least 20 people all day long. No let-up at all. Now THAT's what I'm talking about!

But there is one thing that I'm still seeing when people vote and it's pissing me off more and more each year. The whole "well, I don't like either major party candidate, and the candidate I do like will never win so I'll just vote for the lesser of the two evils" thing. People. If you would realize that if you started voting for the candidate that you really believed would follow your personal ideals, then perhaps other people that feel the same way would vote for them too and maybe, just maybe, they would, I don't know, ACTUALLY GET ELECTED!

This whole thing really torked me off when we had the special election to recall Gray Davis a few years ago. The best candidate, hands down in my opinion, was Tom McClintock. He had run against Davis in the regular election, and lost. When the special election came up, his hat was in the ring again. The man is one of the true died-in-the-wool fiscal conservatives left in this country. While he may lie through his teeth on other issues like all other politicians, when it came to this area, there was no budging the man. And that's what people in California claimed they actually wanted. We're tired of governors pissing away our money. Which was why we voted to recall Davis.

But then Ahnold threw his hat into the ring. And all the people who were going to vote for McClintock threw up their hands in dismay, wringing them saying, "Well, McClintock doesn't have a chance of winning now that Schwarzenegger's in the race. So I'll just vote for him so that Davis doesn't get the spot back." And that, my friends, is how we got Ahnold with such a landslide victory - losing out on one of the few fiscal conservatives left in this nation, or whichever candidate you felt was right for the job. All because we "thought" he didn't have a chance. Well if you just CAST A DAMN VOTE FOR HIM, then maybe he would have won! And if he hadn't? So what? At least you voted for the candidate you wanted, instead of your "lesser of two evils."

McClintock got defeated again last night, this time for Lieutenant Governor. Who did we elect in his place? The former dirty insurance commissioner John Garamendi. And again we have that fucker, Jerry Brown, back in an office again - Attorney General this time. Didn't we learn the LAST TIME on both of these guys? Apparently not. The electorate has a very short memory it seems.

But at least people got off their damn couches and turned out and voted. In the end, I can't be upset at that, even if I am a minority in this very Blue state of California. At least my voice was heard.