Whasbeenup

I've been the subject of recent admonitions in regards to my lack of consistent posts. (Thanks JRock - you 'da Man).

Let me 'splain a little 'bout what I's been doing:  I like living.  I like doing, going, laughing, loving and breathing.  I really struggle with doing things that I don't like (ha ha - see Pu's recent post where she revealed my self-diagnosis of "Clinically Unemployable") which, as a general rule, includes anything ROUTINE.  Even less do I enjoy sitting at a computer.  So ... rather than blogging some stupid comment on whether or not I filled my gas tank 1/2 way full or 3/4 full, I've been preparing my little sanctuary (aka my home) for winter.

The Great Annual Mouse Event is underway 'round these parts.  I live in a very nice little cottage-y house on 1/3 acre of land.  I have a spanning yard and a 600 sq ft garden.  The house is old but freshly remodeled - yet it still contains lots of random little holes.  Holes that cute little Mice have mapped out on those ancient stone tablets they have - you know, the ones that God gave them on the mountain when the bush burned down ... the ones that instruct the entire species of where to congregate when the weather turns cold.

Last year, I only had to kill *eight* of them (in my 1000 sq ft house) to send the clear message that Auschwitz don't have nuttin on me.  I actually spent most of last fall and winter in terrible angst because I felt like a bad person if I actually had to KILL something to be rid of it.  I tried catch-and-release traps, peppermint (leaves scattered, strategically placed live plants, and essential oil diffused in 72 hour shifts), incense-bombing (that's where I burn 60-80 sticks of incense all at once in a glorious Hindu-Inspired Haze in hopes of choking those miceys out ... my personal "non chemical" innovation as a substitute for a toxic bug or mouse bomb), and relentless, furious cleaning (in the drawers, in the closets, sterilizing the cupboards, purging the vents, etc etc).  I created several variations of ingenious "swim traps" - where I filled a bucket with a bit of water and created a "diving board fulcrum" of sorts with delicious peanut butter and cheerios on the end overhanging the water so I could humanely catch them as they fell in for a little swim after dashing out onto the "plank" and tipping into the wild blue yonder.

None of it worked.  Well, I did catch 2 mice in one of the catch and release traps, but I set them free 0.9 miles from my home, and I think they followed their bread crumb trail back to one of the aforementioned holes.  Experts do say, you know, to release them *at least* 1 mile from your home ....

ANYWAY - after months of discovering MORE little piles of mouse poo, and being thoroughly disgusted, I finally just put out the snap traps and killed the suckers off.

THIS year, I started off with glue traps - thinking that if I checked them regularly, when a poor little mousey got stuck on one, I could release it a full mile away from my home before it experienced too much trauma.   (Ya know - that whole Karma thing ...)  Well, they didn't work.  You see, I keep my house cool . . . cool enough that the glue traps were too cold to be sticky enough to actually trap the mice.  After 2 days, I had several traps where the little bait pile of tasty cheerios had been replaced by tiny footprints, random tufts of fur and little piles of black-rice poo.

So -- out came the poison pellets for the outside part of my house, and the snap traps for the inside.  I've blessed 6 already with an expedited trip to Heaven, and have sighted 3 or 4 more.  Onward I go.

In other news, I am now officially a lumberjack.  With the assistance of Xrad's husband (aka The Cowboy) and Son (aka Missionary Man),  I have harvested, chopped and split the equivalent of 3 full trailers of wood for my wintertime fireplace.  Wintertime gas bills run upwards of $300/month in this cozy little cottage - and that's just WAY TOO HARD to manage on my $560/month income.  This year, I'm aiming to keep 'em under $30.  Big ambition, I know, but I've got the wood ready, have re-routed my dryer to vent inside, have purchased thick fuzzy jammas for the Grommets, and have installed "I'm sleeping in a fluff of pure Nirvana" duvets on all of the beds. 

Oh, yes.  I have enrolled for school.  I'll begin in January with a  full-time course load to finally complete a degree.  I began college immediately after graduating High School. (er - 20 years ago ...)  I have attended full time for many many semesters since, but haven't ever pieced it all together into a nice piece of paper I can hang on my wall.  This time will  be different.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.  I've decided to wrap my myriad credits (like all 100 of them) into a BS in Philosophy.

"I went to see the doctor of Philosophy.  With his poster of Rasputin and his beard down to his knees.  He never did marry, or see a big great movie.  He graded my performance, he said he could see through me.  I spent 4 years prostrate to the higher mind - got my paper and I was free......." (duh, Indigo Girls).

...and I have a drawing class in my upcoming semester.  I have a hard time drawing a circle, and well, quite frankly, I don't care.  It's the only class I'm wary of . . . that leads me to believe that it may hide/hold/reveal some great truth to me about myself.  Maybe I just hate drawing.  Guess we'll see . . . . (oh, lookie ! I'm a philosopher already !!!)

Tomorrow, I get to go spend 4 hours with a Psychiatrist.  I'm pretty excited!  I've never known one / seen one / talked to one before.  One of the grants I'm applying for requires that I have a mental or emotional disability to qualify, so I'ma meeting this guy to see if he thinks I do!  Crazy, huh!  (no pun intended).  Yeah, I'm sure there's a strong vein of ADD coursing through my blood, and I spent several years experiencing panic attacks whenever I thought about driving a car (of course, I didn't even consider actually driving one during that time), and I think I'm pretty solidly "clinically unemployable" (not because I suck - because I'm smarter, faster and more creative than anyone I've ever worked for, and either work myself out of a job quickly by organizing/systemizing/structuring what I do such that any $5.00/hr monkey can do it, or I just have to quit from sheer boredom).  Oh, and Xrad's psychology professor suggested to me that I have a personality disorder with Narcissistic tendencies.  -yeah, whatever.  I do not think I am better than everyone.

I know it.

Ouch!

Got some good stuff coming:  Grade School Fundraisers, "The Corporation", Committees, Songs I've Made Up for 'da Grommies, Living a Grain Free life - Can it be done by dRM and clan?, etc...  Stay posted.   My musings may be far-between, but they're just as often as I like em!

Children of the Corn

I'm not sure if it was Xrad or I who was the first to refer to our children as "Children of the Corn" in a moment of chaos. I babysit her kids regularly and they are often really "creatively behaved" - frequently inspiring me to feel crazy.  Mine just get psycho hyper and only sometimes inspire me to feel crazy - ESPECIALLY when they're tired.


Take for example what's happening right now:

The Mermaid and Fairy Princess have just emerged from the bath.  They are chasing each other around the front room trying to "kick each other in the nuts".  Um, they're both girls, remember?  The Mermaid just slipped on the floor, due to her wet feet and conked her head on the hardwood floor with a resounding "KONK".

Now she's wailing as if the world were about to end while The Fairy Princess is doing the chicken dance.

1 min later: Mermaid's jumping on the couch - upside down
22 seconds later later: She's emptied a puzzle onto the floor.
Concurrently:  Fairy Princess is asking me if her hair looks clean
Concurrently:  Mermaid is singing that she doesn't want to go to school tomorrow
Oh, and now Fairy Princess is reciting over and over again, as if repeating a spiritual mantra, "I wanna go to bed I wanna go to bed I wanna go to bed I wanna go to bed" WHILE doing the chicken dance -- oh wait, now they're both repeating it and jumping on the couch upside down.
Now Mermaid is sitting in the middle of the floor asking Fairy Princess to guess where she is.....

And, like the Energizer Bunny, it's going on and on and on and onnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

Pause here -- You know, ESPECIALLY since they're requesting it over and over again via their mantra, I'm gonna go put them in bed right now... back in a sec......

Oh, wait, their jammas aren't on yet and they're asking to play on the computer, asking for a snack (dinner was 30 mins ago), asking to watch a movie, asking to call their dad, asking to wash the dishes, asking if we can decorate for Halloween, asking if they can play at their cousins' house . . .

Um, no.

Supervising the putting-on of  jammas on and THEN putting them into bed.  Be back in a few . . .
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...
Visiting for a sec while they brush their teeth.  Fairy Princess just informed me that she has a movie theatre in her mouth playing a Barbie movie, and that there are also Dora Germs she's getting rid of.  (When I assist them with brushing, I make silly comments about how I can see polka-dot bugs or fishy bugs, or whatever else kind of bugs in their mouths and I talk and sing to those bugs as I brush them away.  Mermaid still believes that I'm actually seeing real physical Germ Bugs, and laments that I can see them and she can't.  "I'm looking with my Fairy Eyes," I tell her.  Fairy Princess, however, caught quite quickly and plays along with gusto.)  K - back to brushing and bedtime . . .

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Today was Crazy Hair Day at Mermaid's school.  In honor of the fine occasion, I put Fairy Princess', Lady Leprechaun's and My hair up into fancy multi-colored 'do's as well.  Perhaps it was my rainbow-striped-sparkly fauxhawk that inspired them to lick the inside of every freezer door in the supermarket while I was selecting frozen vegetables.  Maybe it was Mermaid's little extra boost of confidence from having the Coolest Crazy Hair in Kindergarten that led her to do cartwheels in the baby food aisle.  It could have been the fact that Lady Leprechaun only had two colors in her hair while the rest of us were veritable rainbow-heads that inspired her to bite Dream Boy because he got to ride in the seat of the shopping cart and she got stuck in the basket.  Or maybe that's why she stacked up the bread to make a seat for herself there ... I wonder ...

As a general rule, my Rugrats are exceptionally well-behaved.  They're smart, cute and follow instructions nicely (I abhor the word "obey").  They're courteous, helpful and friendly --- even with their own siblings.   There is not a friend's house they've visited whose mother hasn't complimented me on their fantastic manners and genial personalities.


Today, however, they have absolutely earned the title "Children of the Corn."

.... and they're asleep AT LAST!  (ha ha, it's not even 8:30 pm yet ... "at last" ... ha ha!!)

One last note:  Xrad called her grommies "Children of the Corn" the other day.  Her 8 year old daughter, Oddie, asked, "Mom, why do you always call us that?"   Xrad replied, "Because I'm beginning to believe that you're Demon Spawn."  Oddie only took a split second to respond:

"Mom, doesn't that make you a demon?"

Rock On SmartyPants!