It's Cold Outside!

A Little Christmas Fun

Arseholes in Real Life

Sorry I've been away.  I had a freaking 4mm kidney stone, and then you know how life gets busy when you're not looking!

My son Little Guy and I went up to the big city to help the folks move some furniture (if they tried it themselves, they would have been laying in a pile of broken hips), and I went up north to check on some work I had done on a duplex I own up there. Early in the fall a critter had gotten up in the attic and chewed some electrical wires and insulation.

The elderly couple who live on that side have been there for about 5 years and are wonderful tenants. For some reason I thought they'd been married for a gazillion years, but they were celebrating their 8th anniversary. Little Guy and I were at loose ends that night and didn't have any dinner plans, so I invited them out to dinner. They are the neatest people, and I wanted to show them my appreciation because they are always so very nice to Little Guy and interested in what he is doing (for those who don't remember, he is my son who has autism).

Mrs. (I'm going to call them Smith) Smith's son from a previous marriage was there, and it seemed kind of churlish not to invite him along. He's about my age. All this time I thought he was "their" son, but I guess not.

Anyway, at the restaurant, Mrs. Smith's son was the biggest arsehole I think I've ever had the displeasure of dining with. He'd effing hold his hand up and SNAP his fingers at a passing waitress, and even once at the manager, who came by the table to see if we were happy, when he wanted something and bark orders at them. Ok, so I took them to the Red Lobster, which is Little Guy's favorite place, but if you've ever been there, you know how busy they can get during peak hours. Our waitress was very attentive, the service was great, the food was well, you know, Red Lobster.

At one point, somebody bumped our waitress who was taking away plates and she bumped arsehole's water glass, which tipped over. There wasn't anything but ice in it, and she apologize profusely. Arsehole laughed and said, "No problem, I'll just take it out of your tip." grrrr. I wanted to kick him in the nads under the table.

Mrs. Smith was completely oblivious to her darling's rudeness. Mr. Smith was terribly embarrassed, and we shared eyerolls over the table. I left the waitress an extra large tip and wrote "sorry about the asshole" on the bill at the end.

When we left, I waited until they got in their car safely and went back in to use the bathroom, because it was a long drive to our hotel. When I came out I saw that Mr. Smith had come back in and was talking to the waitress. Since I was the host of the dinner I went to see if everything was ok. That sweetie was giving her an extra 20 dollars and apologizing for his stepson's behavior! As we walked out together he confided that after I had left the duplex that afternoon, stepson had called his girlfriend and invited her and her kids to dinner on my dime. Mr. Smith told him that he couldn't expect me to foot the bill, so the "kid" had nixed it. The poor old guy was so embarrassed.

What a class act. Mr. Smith, I mean. But seriously, who in the hell SNAPS their fingers at a waitperson? Seriously? Do any of you know any arseholes like that?

Coming Home

Back from my visit to Virginia. Sadly the younger brother and sister "forgot" I was coming and were out of town. Oh well. I had a fantastic time with the older brother. We talked for hours and got on like a house on fire. I saw so much of my sons in him. 

 My birth mother flew down and we spent three days together, just mother and daughter. We drove all over the area chasing family history, got lost a dozen times and laughed 10 times that much. She gave me my cheekbones, my butt, my boobs, my teeth and my toes. My birth father's family gave me the height, the shoulders, the coloring and the eyes. 

 Nobody will claim the nose though. Dammit. 

 We spent a day with family on her side, who I met for the first time. An aunt, cousins and a couple of elderly friends. One lady said something that really capped off my trip. When I mentioned how I had felt compelled to go to college in Virginia although I had no family or friends there (I'm from Colorado) she said: 

 "Virginia's in your blood, Honey. You came home to us!" It brought tears to my eyes.

Thanks all for your kind wishes.  It was quite a journey.  LOL

Nerves

Back in October, I wrote about finding out that I have three biological siblings that I never knew I had. The back story is in this post Peanut Butter and Jelly. 

 I was adopted as an infant, and my bio father later went on to marry and have 3 kids, all of whom are quite a bit younger than I am. 

 Well in 3 weeks I'm travelling to Virginia to meet them for the first time. My birthmother is flying down to meet me a few days in advance and we're going to spend some time just "mother and daughter".  I'm going to get to meet cousins on her side of the family that live in the area too.

 I'm so excited, and nervous at the same time. I've been spending months trying to get ready emotionally for this journey, but the closer I get, the more butterflies I have.

When is it appropriate to throw up?

More Fun with Puppehs

So the puppies were getting into the potted plants on the deck. I put them up on other pots temporarily to give them a chance to recover before Hubby could get them into a higher and better spot (they were full of dirt and too heavy for me to lift). Then for some reason the tops of the flowers were disappearing. What the hell? We have a 5-foot fence around our back yard and these plants are on our deck which comes off the second story of the house. Was some critter getting in and out that we didn't know of? Was a bird attacking the flowers? Bugs?

A friend came over and we were sitting on the deck enjoying the afternoon. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Winston Churchill's little head bobbing up and down past her shoulder.

Case solved. Little stinker.

Trying New Things

This summer I've decided that I'm going to try new things that I've never managed to do because I was busy being a mom.  After all the exhaustive crap we've had to deal with regarding Big Kid, Hubby and I came to the conclusion that we shouldn't wait to do some of the things we wanted to do when we get an empty nest, because our nest is never going to be empty.

 

My doctor and Big Kid's doctor both told me that I have to "let him go".  Not "cut him out of my life" letting him go, but "get on with living my life because he is 27 and I can't make him follow his treatment plan".  As my doctor pointed out, I've been blessed with a lot of miracles in the last years---I survived heart failure without any heart damage, Big Kid survived the swine flu, and I don't seem to have any permanent nerve damage in my legs from my undiagnosed diabetes.  How many more miracles can I expect to get?  Instead of stressing out and killing myself over worry, I need to live and enjoy life as best I can.

 

Sooooo....I have a list of things I'm going to do this summer that I always wanted to do.  First I had some surgery I wanted to get done.  Now I have an ass that is tighter than it was when I was 14.  LOL

 

I also have a scar that runs across my back and am thinking of getting a tattoo (yes, really!) to kind of cover it up.  So I'm getting a henna tat that is non-permanent to see how it makes me feel.  And to see if Hubby likes it, since he is the only person who regularly sees my nekkid butt.

 

I don't want to get one of those trashy tramp stamps that scream "My daddy says I'm the best kisser in the county!", but I really really do like the Indian (not tribal or Native American but the India Indian) designs.  Something like this, but not so big.

 

The next thing I'm getting is a spray tan.  As a natural and freckly redhead I have never ever been able to tan.  Hopefully a spray tan won't make me look like an oompa loompa.  If it does, well live and learn.  LOL  It's temporary.

 

Last Saturday I got a wax for the first time.  A Brazilian wax. I took some percocet left over from my surgery and Hubby drove me because I was higher than a kite.

 

Didn't help.  If you heard screams in the distance that day, it was probably me getting hair from my hoo-ha ripped out.

 

I swear I was abused in places that no one but Hubby (and my gyno) has touched in 22 years without buying me dinner first.

 

How in the hell do women survive THAT on a regular basis? 

 

Are there any new things you want to try some time?

 

Hope you're having a great summer!

 

ATM

Rub-a-Dub-Dub

Guess who won the "first bath in the kitchen sink" war?

There were no winners.  We all got soaked.

Happy Father's Day

Just wanted to wish all you guys out there a happy happy day.

Puppehs

Every picture I've taken lately of Winston Churchill is either a blur or he looks like he has a stick up his butt.  So here is the most recent picture of Lucky (officially named "Inigo Montoya" in his papers now because he's a little fighter).  All big tough 4 pounds of him.

"You chewed my squeaky toy.  Prepare to die!"

Now if I could just get him to stop eating poo.

Ow

So I had some surgery on my hip about 10 days ago.  Everything went well and I'm off the heavy-duty drugs.  Can't drive yet, but hopefully in the next few days. Haven't been posting because I haven't been able to negotiate the stairs down to my office.  :-)

The doctors sewed in 4 drains down there that I have to pin to the inside of my jammy pants.  I think it's the closest I can imagine to having testicles.

What I want to know is....

How in the HELL do you guys manage to walk around with all that junk flopping around down there?

Puppies

Well, I haven't written a lot because I've been so busy and so sad.  4 of the 6 puppies died after 2 weeks.  They just weren't developed enough and got heart murmurs one right after another.  :-(

Remember little Baby Lucky, the one who wasn't responsive and needed doggie CPR?  I carried him around in my shirt for hours and fed him from an eyedropper because he was too weak to suck.  It is absolutely amazing that he is one that survived after the others seemed so healthy.  Here is a picture of him taking his first breath:

Here is a picture of him now.  Isn't he gorgeous?

Here is a picture of Winston Churchill.  He always looks terribly annoyed, but he is the sweetest darn puppy---his tail is always wagging.  He's bigger than Lucky, so he's a bit of a bully.  And of course, he's always the first to belly up to the buffet.

We've started weaning the boys.

 Lucky is reluctant to put his face in a bowl, which leaves more for Winston Churchill.

This picture is after Winston Churchill ate his first meal out of a bowl.  He conked out like a drunken sailor on a bender.

So while this whole experience has been a bit sad, it's also been really lovely too.

Nightmare Kitchen

Hey all-- This Friday Kitchen Nightmares with Gordon Ramsey is showing the episode they filmed in our small burg.  It's on Fox.

 The funny thing is that the Aspiring Adult has worked there every summer since he came to live with us. We talked him out of being a part of it because of his impulse-control issues. As much as we like Gordon Ramsey, we knew our kid would come out looking like a real tool.  It might make good TV, but it would be out there for the world to see forever.

 Thankfully, he listened to us and declined to participate. But Julie, the owner, asked him to come work the premier party on Friday. 

 LOL If you get a chance, watch!

I'm a Grandma!

Wow!  I was so NOT prepared to deliver puppies, but that's what ended up happening.  Maddie was so freaked out with the first one that she just pushed him (using "him" loosely, it's impossible to tell what sex they are) out and ignored him.  So I got a crash course on helping babies and placentas (yech) out of mom, stripping off the amniotic sac, cleaning, tying and cutting umbilical cords and sucking out crap from puppy mouths with a syringe.  LOL  I ended up delivering all 6, yes 6 puppies.  We had to put them on a heating pad under a towel while she delivered the other ones because she kept rolling on top of them. 

 

The last one almost didn't make it.  He wasn't breathing when he came out and I ended up giving him doggie CPR a bunch of times.  He was too little and weak to be put in with the other puppies, so I carried him around in my shirt next to my heart (or my boob, take your pick) for a couple of hours and we've been feeding him with a syringe and formula.  He's now perky and wrestling with the other pups to get the prime spot next to Mom.  She's calmed down and is taking care of them now that the messy part is over.  :-)

 

We have 5 black tri's and one red/brown one.  The littlest one, of course, is special and is probably the one I'll keep.  He has a little horseshoe on his nose.  If he survives I might just name him Lucky.  Cliche I know, but he is lucky to be alive.  There's a pic of him below.  Little guy fits in the palm of my hand.

My So-Called Life LOL

No puppies yet.  Poor little Maddie is as big as a house and uncomfortable.  Max has turned out to be a wonderful companion for her.  He snuggles with her and seems to have instinctively figured out that something is different so he tries to engage her in play gently and not boisterously as usual.  So far Mama and babies are healthy.

 

I've been trying to figure out what to do with Big Kid for months now.  It's so hard to put into words, and I'm so tired.  When I think that this is  what the rest of our lives is going to be like I get so horribly depressed.  I think the winter weather and gray skies haven't been helping either!

 

After more than a year of not being able to get him a psychiatrist (there wasn't one within 100 miles that would take Medicaid, which he has now that he gets Social Security), his therapist was able to hook him up with a great one.  This doctor wasn't taking any new Medicaid patients, but agreed to take him on as a favor to the therapist.

 

The first thing he did was start rearranging Big Kid's meds to see if they could find a better cocktail with fewer medications (Big Kid was on like 7 different ones), which was a great place to start.  Some of the meds Big Kid has been taking aren't really good to take for the long term.  Things seemed to be working well.

 

Here is the problem.  And it's a biggie.

 

Every few months, like clockwork, when things seem to be stable and going well, Big Kid decides that:

 

A) The doctor doesn't know anything because he read something on the internet that was contradictory to his treatment plan

B) Some "friend" or internet "expert" had horror stories about a medication he's taking

C) He's bored and wants to shake things up a bit

D) He's unhappy because he doesn't have any interests or passions to keep him engaged with life

E) There is just not enough drama in his world.

 

So he:

 

1)  Stops taking his meds

2)  Starts drinking

 

What ends up happening is:

 

1)  He pawns all his stuff so he can have money to buy useless crap, and even though we've warned him countless times that we're not going to bail him out again, he continues to do it.  And then he's lost a bunch of valuable electronics because he can't buy them out and we refuse to.  Or

 

2)  He doesn't want to wait until the first of the month when he has money to get his stuff out of pawn and hounds the crap out of everybody to front him the money until then.  Of course, this is all our fault because we won't support him in the manner to which he'd like to become accustomed.  Personal responsibility?  He can't be responsible because "I'm disabled".  Hubby previously went to countless pawn shops to ask them not to take Big Kid's stuff because of his brain injury, but they know an easy mark when they see it.  And of course, since he can't drive, who do you think takes him there?  Kitty.

 

3)  He starts fights with Kitty (or she starts with him) and the two of them will call me relentlessly expecting me to "Dr.Phil" them.  I just stop answering the phone, so I get countless shouting messages on the machine for being so selfish not to interrupt my day to solve their stupid problems.

 

4.  He calls constantly---sometimes up to 9-10 times a day, either for something trivial, like is a can of food still good a week after it's expiration date (probably, why don't you open it and smell it?), or to lament how crappy his life is, or to confess that he's been drinking and not taking his meds, and he promises to do better, can I give him a hundred dollars?

 

I know it sounds as if I've abandoned him sort of.  I haven't.  He spends 2-3 nights a week here, sometimes with Kitty, sometimes without.  She needs a break too.  I can't do any more, because the two of them just wear me out.  This is all that's happening when they're NOT here.  gah.

 

The last episode ended with Kitty dropping him off at a local mental hospital on the advice of his doctor at 9pm in a snowstorm.  Instead of going inside with him to make sure that they'd admit him, she drove off with her phone turned off.  They wouldn't take him, so he ended up calling us when they turfed him out.  Hubby had to drive down from the mountains at 11pm in blizzard conditions to rescue him.  For the next three days I ran around getting him emergency appointments, taking him to specialists, having tests done (MRI, EEG) because he was positive he was having seizures or something and his doc wasn't going to risk telling him he was full of shit.  After he shook everybody's life up for days he finally admitted to me that he had been drinking again.  And Kitty knew it, but didn't give anyone a clue.  She's between a rock and a hard place, I understand that.  But neither of them is considerate of the time or energy of others.

 

I love my boy.  I do.  I do.  I just don't know what to do to help him.  He's 27 years old now, and he needs to learn how to live his own life.  We've done everything we know how to get him to find a vocation, a passion, an interest to keep him busy and fulfilled.  We've supported him financially and emotionally in every way we know how. 

 

I know he has a mental illness and a brain injury.  But it hasn't affected his intellect so it's hard to tell which behavior stems from that, or is just manipulation.  He is capable and responsible for following his treatment plan.  He chooses to go off his meds and to drink, and it makes me so angry that he does this every 3-4 months.

 

I feel so tired and helpless most of the time.

 

Sorry to vent, but that's why I haven't been around much lately.  Hope you all are well and happy.

Granny Panties

Sorry I've been away for so long---Big Kid has been having enormous issues with his mental health and brain injury and I've been exhausted.  Every time I sit down to write something my mind goes blank.  Don't you hate when that happens?

Well it looks like I'm going to be a grandma.  That's news!  It was confirmed yesterday by ultrasound.

Mad Max and Maddie managed to hook-up about six weeks ago and we're due for a litter in a few weeks.  

Yes, I know how that happens.  LOL  That's the main reason we got Max to begin with.  I wanted another Toy Aussie or two (we've always had 4 dogs) but the breeder we'd been using lives far away and increased her prices astronomically after we got Max and I really can't justify spending $2000.00 on a dog.

Why not get a shelter dog, some might ask (and have)?

Well, because I don't want to.  5 of the last 9 dogs Hubby and I have had in the last 20 years together have been shelter dogs.  All but one were fantastic and very loved (the one that wasn't fantastic was loved but a total pain in the ass).  I wanted a very specific breed, and fortunately they are popular so that there just aren't many breed rescues available.

We have a list of people who would love one of the puppies and were willing to wait to see if Max and Maddie made a go of it, so we've got that covered.  When this is over I'm going to get them both fixed and that will be the end of it.  No career as a backyard breeder for me!  LOL

Poor Max.  He just discovered the joys of sex and now it will be all over for him.

I'll keep you posted on our new adventure.  Wish us luck!

Out With the Old

Hope you guys had a wonderful holiday season.  We've just been so busy that I haven't had much time to be online.

Since it's the new year, I decided to make a couple of changes.

Especially since the Big Kid just turned 27.

How in the world could he be 27 when I'm only 35??  (wink wink)

So in keeping with the "out with the old" theme, I decided to replace my old profile picture with a newer, Milfyer one.  LOL

What do you think?