Too Much Perfection?

Dammit.






*sigh*

We spent the morning watching Dolphins dine...





And feeding the Seagulls...

Today has been a fairly lazy day. We traveled to the mainland to do a bit of shopping at some of the ecclectic shops that are scattered in the nearby town. It was enjoyable. I shared ice cream with the wutz, then we headed home. He took a nap and we watched a movie.

Exciting stuff.


That's what vacations are for though, right?


Except for the fact that I haven't even put my toes in the sand today. I must do that later. Definitely.

I love my sister. We are separated by 18 years in age, but though she's older than me, I still consider us to be close. However, we are like night and day. She likes to shop. I don't. She likes pink. I don't. She loves shoes. I don't. You can see where I'm going, so I'll stop there.

On our third day at the beach, we decided to hook up the jet skiis and drive down to the boat landing by the bridge and go for a ride on them. It was a beautiful day today for it. We, surprisingly, had no problems whatsoever in getting the jet skiis in the water. But when it came time to get on the jet ski, my sister looked at me with doe eyes and questioned, "Do I have to step in the water?"

"Yes, Princess, you have to step into the water to get on the jet ski."

With no measure of grace, Her Majesty managed to slosh through the murky water at the boat ramp and climb aboard.

And we were off.

It was a very pleasant ride. The waves were rougher than I prefer, but still not uncomfortable. Once we settled on a direction of travel, we pointed the pair of jet skiis toward the state park and proceeded at a good clip in that direction.

After about an hour or so of riding we slowed to a stop. Our engines were at a quiet idle as I heard Her Majesty's squeal. "It's tipping. It's tipping!" I turned my head just in time to see her DH casually step off the side of the ski and disappear briefly into the water. My sister, though, fought the inevitable all the way down. As soon as her feet hit the water she was scrambling like a cat that had just been unceremoniously dumped into a bucket of very cold water.

The Princess was clawing, scratching, and screaming. "Get me out of this water." Not Get me out of the water, it was this water. Bless her heart, she was scrambling madly for the side of the jetski and her poor DH was madly trying to give her a boost upward toward its deck, but in her panicked state, nothing was getting accomplished except for more screaming: "Get me out of this water! Get me out of this water! Finally she found purchase at the back of the jetski and was halfway on board when suddenly her frantic plea changed its focus.

This is what we then heard:
"My pretty shoe! Get my pretty shoe! Get my pretty shoe!!!"

My dear sister, still clinging to the back of the deck, scrambling in terror of this water, hyperventilating and screeching like a wounded seagull, was suddenly terrified of losing the one thing that is truly important in her life - her pretty shoe.

To the great relief of everyone present, I was able to locate and rescue the pretty shoe from the watery grave.

I'm a hero.

The Princess made it home with her pretty shoes, safe and sound.

We've made it safe and sound to the Beach House. We suffered detours aplenty, but we are finally here!

I spent several hours in the pool with the wutz, who can now kick kick kick! He's loving the water. And he really loved the 'big water' which is what he calls the ocean.

I'm just happy to that my not-so-little white self has the first hint of a tan!

Do forgive the unflattering picture, but I guess I have no shame.

The sun was out when I woke up this morning at 10:50am. Yes, you read that right! Ten. Fifty. AM. DH let me sleep in. Is that awesome or what?!? It was pure heaven. I finally stumbled out of bed and made breakfast and enjoyed the quiet of the late morning. DH had taken the wutz outside, so it was blissfully peaceful.

Unfortunately, the calm was short lived. Because I'd slept in, I was behind in my scheduled ToDo list! I had to mop the floors, clean the laundry room, do laundry, and the list went on and on and on.

I am happy to report that now at nearly 4pm, I am, for the most part, finished with my chores. I still have to pack, and tomorrow morning I'll need to tidy up some, but otherwise I'm ready to go to the BEACH!

It rained all day yesterday. All night last night. And it has continued to rain all day today! We are absolutely drenched.

The good thing about it is that it has given me absolutely no reason to go outside. I needed to stay in and be productive. And productive, I have been!

DH steam cleaned the carpets while I put away all of the laundry. I also cleaned the bathrooms from top to bottom. Ew! I detest that job. And I cleaned my bedroom and the wutz's room.

I'd say that I'm about 75% done with what I have wanted to accomplish this weekend. I'm very pleased with that. Tomorrow I'll put the finishing touches on everything and also get our bags packed for vacation!

I can't wait.

They are predicting up to 26 inches of rain for us over the next two days! Crazy!

It figures that tomorrow is the first official day of my vacation. We've a trip to St. George Island planned. If it isn't washed away by Fay!

Fortunately, DH and I don't plan on meeting the family down there until Monday. The storm should be over by then.

I hope.

I love siamese cats. I have four of them in the house. I couldn't imagine life without a siamese in the house. A siamese. As in one siamese. More than one is a freakfest. But yes, I have four of them.

One of them is truly unhinged. If you touch Cade's back she flips out, cries out that weird siamese cry, then starts rapidly licking herself. It is the strangest thing ever. She's not hurt. She's just a complete psycho.

Last night she got locked in the spare bedroom on accident. I've got a bad feeling of what I'll find when I actually go in there to see if she has done any damage.

~sigh~

This weekend I stepped on the scale and the number that appeared was not one that I wished to see. In the matter of a few days, I'd suddenly jumped up to that dreaded weight that I'd told myself if I reached it, I'd immediately begin dieting.

But wait!

I've been on prednisone for 5 weeks. Couldn't that cause the weight gain, I reasoned.

Yes, yes. That has to be it, I convinced myself. I decided I'd keep a close eye on it to see if it fluctuated further over the following days.

Then yesterday I stepped on the scale again. As I peered down, waiting for that digital declaration, it dawned on me that I was standing on the scale...



(wait for it...)



...while holding a homemade chocolate chip cookie.



Now, I'm not sure if that means I have food issues. Or weight issues.


I'm gonna guess both.

I am adjusting rather quickly to the new laptop. The keys are a little to punchy and noisy, but maybe I'm being a tad oversensitive about it. I like the laptop overall. The design is sleek, the buttons are functionable, and it runs a damn sight better than my old one. Currently, my biggest complaint is the delete key. They moved it. It is NOT located in the same place as my last Toshiba. Every time I try to delete, it ends up pulling up various windows, etc, which is NOT what I'm attempting to do. I want to delete! Delete! Delete! Delete!

I'm even *gasp* adjusting to Vista. Impossible to believe, I know. But I am.

My major gripe is moving all my files from my old laptop to this one. I have a lot of files. A. Lot.

I don't want to do it, but I was reminded that I have programs to load as well. I can't even get photos off my camera without the proggie for it. So, guess what I'm doing this afternoon?

I've been waiting patiently. Okay, not really, but let's pretend that I have patience.

Anyways, tonight as I put the wutz to bed, I curled up next to him to 'sleep sleep' and we bumped noses as we do each night. Then I told him I loved him. After we snuggled a little more, I got him to say "I" "Love" "You" "Mommy" with my prompting. Then, a few moments later, without prompting, he said, "I love you, Mommy."

My heart melted into a puddle right then and there.

An eavesdropper would likely have not been able to make out what the wutz said, but I knew. My heart knew.

It was the best thing I think I've ever heard.


I love you, too, baby.

...Windows Vista!

Arggghhhh. My laptop broke this morning. Yes, it broke. Literally. The screen broke off from the laptop.

So, I set off in search of a new laptop. Which, of course, has Vista loaded on it. The laptop seems nice enough, but the TruBrite screen is a bit annoying. It just doesn't look as crisp as my old screen. Not sure, why.

I have most of my pertinent programs loaded, with only a few minor exceptions. But I really really liked my old laptop.


I hate change.

The wutz has been in school for one week. Already we've ordered T-shirts with the school logo on them, purchased the various required supplies, and prepared for Sharing Day and upcoming picture day. And today we participated in his very first birthday party for a classmate. It seems like it has all happened so fast. I've been sucked down into that blackhole of responsible and semi-required parenting of a school aged child.

I have a couple of friends that have children that are the wutz's age. But we are always traveling in different directions and no effort for a playdate, or whatever it is called, is ever made.

However, today during the pool party, I met several new parents that seemed quite nice. I'm definitely no social butterfly but, naturally, talk of get-togethers and playdates were mentioned. I had to secretly wonder if any of it would actually pan out. Probably not.

It was nice to chat with the parents of kids in the wutz's class, though. I hope since they've seen we are normal parents, too, that they won't get extremely angry if my child continues to whack on their children's heads during playtime.

All in all, the pool party was great fun. The wutz is still unsure of water, but he loved the fountain play area. He kept insisting that I join in with him, though. So, I undoubtably looked like a drowned rat by the time the party was over. Oh well. It was fun!



Artwork the wutz did Thursday (8-14-08) at school:

I recently blogged about my dog, Catpish that was killed last week. Well, an hour ago I opened the back door to let the dogs in the house and one of my little terriers, Kismet, was lying dead on the porch. It looked like she fell asleep and passed away as she slept. I hope so, at least.

She was a tiny little dog, weighing in at under 8 lbs. But thanks to some nasty breeding she had serious problems with her teeth. She really had a hard time and I knew I was going to have to make the decision to put her down. Tonight she made it so I didn't have to.

Kismet was a sweet sweet dog. I got her from the humane society, when a friend there told me they'd gotten in two 'miniature dalmatians' that needed homes. I brought both home. I think Kismet was the mother and her puppy was named Karma. Unfortunately, Karma disappeared several years ago. But Kismet remained a darling dog with the best disposition, but she did suffer so much from the ulcers in her mouth and the bad teeth. I know she's all healed now, though.

In the mornings, my eyes are somewhat blurry still. The world looks like a bad soft white portrait from Sears. Everything has this white, fuzzy halo around it. It is very annoying and frustrating. I will be glad when my eyes finally heal. And I am so blasted tired of the eye drops. I'm down to 2x's a day on the Pred Forte and 2x's a day of the Restasis. I'm more than ready to be completely done with it. Then there's the bazillion times a day I use artificial tears...

If DH says, "There's no need to cry over it." one more time, I'm going to bitchslap him.

The other day I came home to a plane crop dusting the field directly behind our house. The wutz was absolutely in awe of the entire process and insisted that we watch for far longer than I was comfortable. I am convinced both of us will die a horrible death from the pesticides we were likely bathed in while we observed this flying banana of a plane as it showered the cotton with chemicals.

The plane would fly directly toward our back window, then pull up at the very last minute. It was fascinating and frightening at the same time. Unfortunately, I missed those shots, but here are a few pictures I took while standing on our back porch. (Please ignore the corner shot of the hideous shelter that DH erected to house his International Scout, that he's yet to paint!)

Today was the wutz's first day of school! It was a challenge getting him up early and getting him fed. He hates eating breakfast first thing in the morning, so I had to shovel the oatmeal into his pie hole while he watched 64 Zoo Lane. Then we got him dressed, and as you can see, he was ready to go!

He was fussy on the way to school, but as soon as we pulled into the parking lot he was excited and ready to go see the babies I'd promised would be there! (He calls all children babies right now.) He marched right into the early drop-off classroom and pushed past me. He did a large circle to survey the room, then he held his hands out, palms up and tilted his head and asked, "Babies?" I promised him that they would all be arriving soon, and that placated him enough. He squatted down and began playing with the toys and I was instantly forgotten. He didn't even notice when I left.

I left work early to pick him up. When I arrived he was sitting quietly against the wall waiting in the pickup line. I was so proud of my big boy! Until the teacher told me that they'd had a little issue with him hitting and grabbing. My son, the two year old juvenile delinquent, apparently did not want to share. This resulted in him hitting and grabbing whatever it was he wanted. Why am I not surprised??? I told the teacher that he is a very physical child and we'd been dealing with it using Time-Outs at home. She told me that was what they did as well until he calmed down. She assured me he would learn to adjust and share. I certainly hope so. I'd hate for him to be expelled at two years old!

Unfortunately, he really has not had any children to play with or learn from, so this is all new to him. I know it will take time for him to figure it out, but I pray it doesn't take too much time. My heart can't take it.

All in all, I think he had a good first day. Let's just hope the little juvie can keep his hands to himself from now on!

In his bookbag were a few things he did today:

Summer is almost over. Soon we'll put away all of the fun stuff that goes with the three months of sun, sand, surf, and family vacations! I cannot believe that tomorrow is the first day of school for the wutz. My little baby is growing so fast!

I've already packed his bookbag, which is almost as big as he is!

I was a slug today. The wutz is sick with a cold. He has a stuffy head, a little cough, red watery eyes, and he is just suffering from general crabbiness. To save ourselves the trouble of hauling him out of the house in his condition, we stayed home from church. Therefore, I did not do a damned thing all day.

Well, that's a lie. I did tidy up just enough to shove a vacuum across the floor a few times. Oh, and I did a load of laundry. Whoop-de-do.

Otherwise, I've parked my ass on the sofa and let the wutz watch entirely too much Disney today. But, hey. He's sick, right? A little pampering never fried a baby's brain, has it?

We had a giveaway at our Church this morning. It was amazing how many people donated so much stuff to give away! The entire Fellowship Hall was packed full of clothing, books, housewares, baby items, etc. And there was another room devoted to children's toys and books! It was a wonderful blessing, how many people donated not only their things, but also their time in volunteering.

The people that came to the giveaway to receive were so kind and grateful. Our Pastor prayed over each person that said they could use a prayer, then they were shown into the Fellowship Hall where they could help themselves to whatever they needed or wanted. There was no limit to what they could have. And if they wanted something that they were unable to haul home, they were able to leave their name, phone number, and address and someone from the church would deliver it to them! How amazing is that?!?

I cannot begin to tell you how wonderful it was to be a part of something so great. I look forward to doing it again!

Last night I got nearly nine hours of blissful, uninterupted sleep.


Now that's more like it!







I hope for more of the same tonight!

Last night was another terrible night. I laid awake for over 5 hours without falling asleep once. Not even a little itty bitty teeny tiny doze. Nothing. Nada. Except sheer boredom and utter frustration.

However, a little research uncovered this list:
Drugs that Cause Insomnia

The Pred Forte eye drops that I have been taking for the PRK surgery are on that list. So, I think I may have found my culprit.

I am going to try to take the last dose of drops late this afternoon, instead of taking it right before bed like I have been doing recently.

I'm praying it helps!

That'd be sleep, in case you were wondering.

It has been in very short supply at my house these days. Well, for me, that is. Everyone else is sleeping perfectly. Except me. I think I'm having one of my insomniac eras or something.

I am so exhausted all the time. And I mean all the time! Then when I lie down I cannot sleep. It just will NOT come. Then there is DH snorting. The wutz wanting to snuggle against me. The dogs barking outside. I live in the country, at the corner of Slingshitchina and Bumfuckegypt. Isn't it supposed to be quiet, serene, and peaceful? At 2am when I'm dying for sleep, it feels anything but that, I assure you.

Last night, DH got home from work at midnight. We both went to bed at 12:45. By 12:50 he was blissfully snoring away. I shoved earplugs in my ears and prayed for sleep. At 1:45 I rolled over and prayed again for sleep. That's when the migraine creeped in. At 2:45 the wutz rolled over to me and wiggled his fingers against my belly, "Tickle tickle!" I guess he was dreaming. I wished I were, but my head was pounding like a jackhammer on New York City cement.

I snatched up my pillow and my mogu and shuffed down the hall to the spare bedroom. Surely I could catch some Zzz's in a quiet room all alone! But alas, it was not to be. Finally sometime after 3am I broke down and took an Ambien for the first time. I think sleep claimed me around 4am. I woke up at 6:30am when DH called in to work for me to tell them I had a migraine and would not be in. I think I managed to sleep for another hour and a half after that. I thought Ambien was supposed to be the great sleep aid. Four hours? Geez. I guess it was better than nothing.

So much for better living through chemistry!

I am addicted to this blog:
Fugly Horse



I've spent way too much time reading it. Definitely a take-no-prisoners blog for horse lovers.

This song is so me. It's definitely listed at the top of my all-time favorites.

DH found one of my dogs, Catphish, in the ditch yesterday. He'd been struck by a car. By the looks of it, he was killed instantly, which I do consider a blessing. He was a good dog. He wandered up to the house nearly a decade ago and I fed him. After that he never left except to roam for a day or two at a time. (Yes, he was fixed.) Catphish was just a laid back, old soul. The first time the vet came out to the farm to do a vet call while Catphish was on the property, the vet's assistant fell in love with him. Since that day, whenever I would get a notification that he needed vaccines, his name would read on the postcard: Catphish "Cool Dog" because apparently, that's how she had entered his name into their computer. Anyone that came to visit fell in love with him once they realized he wasn't goign to kill them. Everyone adored him because he just had the calmest demeanor. He's definitely going to be missed.

I'm now down to 8 dogs. He's the second one I've lost this year. And I think I have another one that I'm going to have to put to sleep soon because she's getting so old and having way too many issues.

I am so tired. I haven't slept well in a week. Three hours a night is seriously not enough sleep for any human. If I were a horse, it'd be more than enough. But I'm not. And I need sleep.

I'm too tired to even think straight. Really. It is almost like when the wutz was still a wee one and not sleeping. Almost, but not quite. Now that was horrible. It's one of the reasons we havent' TTC again. I'm not sure I have the fortitude to do that twice. And then there's the fact that I'm too tired for sex, too!

Maybe if I could just catch up on a little sleep...

I am copying today's Devotional that my Pastor sent out. It was about my friend that was killed this week. I didn't even realize that my Pastor knew him, too.

Nothing to Say

I know that on Monday some of you may have been wondering why there was no email. I have to be honest, it was one of those days where I just had nothing to say. Have you ever been in that place, where words aren’t enough and life is too much? Lately, I find myself needing to listen more than I need to talk. This has been a tough week. A friend of mine, who I had ministered to, and with whom I shared a personal knowledge of some of his struggles, died in a car accident. This guy was a great guy. He had overcome so very much. He had survived a brain surgery that literally removed half of his brain. The doctor could not get all of the cancer, but removed as much as he could. My friend had a faith that was steadfast in the face of this modern day Goliath. The doctor said that he would be a vegetable after the surgery. My friend said, "Doc, with all due respect, you don’t control that, but I know who does. You just do your part, and God will do the rest." God did. My friend came out of the surgery, and this vegetable talked and held his family, and started down the path of recovery. Then God did the rest. He was healed of the remaining cancer. God brought the Goliath down. His is an awe inspiring story. Last September, I saw God use this man, the vegetable that could walk and talk and love. God used him as the vehicle through which an eighteen year old boy with a giant of his own.......cancer, was healed. It was awesome, and my friend was the faithful one who bore God’s voice, God’s hand, and God’s power. I will always cherish that memory. Yesterday, my friend was laid to rest, killed at the hand of two cars driven by people who decided that it was a good idea to drag race down a residential road. Yesterday I was there, at his funeral. I saw the casket bearing his body. I saw his favorite "Florida Gator" hat on his head peeking up over the edge of the casket. I heard the weeping of his family. His three daughters and son crying and numb. I saw his wife, who had left him, taken by the thought of life without the one whom she thought she did not want. I heard the cries of a mother who had lost her beloved son. I heard. I listened. I heard two pastors make statements about him and his faith. I heard one of them clearly share the need for Jesus as manifest by my friend’s life. I heard the other pastor share scriptural error in an attempt to make people feel good. I listened.... but honestly, I just did not have anything to say. It was raining outside. I could hear it. Thunder rolled in the distance. I could hear it as well. There is quite a bit of noise these days, and I contribute to it regularly, but the honest truth is that there is only one voice that needs to be heard and few seem to be listening. We need to hear the voice of God. My friend heard His voice and it changed his life. My friend hears His voice now, face to face. I have no doubt that God wanted to say something about my friend yesterday, after all, he was His child. It seemed to me, that no one was listening. Listen the this verse in Jeremiah 31:16 "Thus saith the LORD; Refrain thy voice from weeping, and thine eyes from tears: for thy work shall be rewarded, saith the LORD; and they shall come again from the land of the enemy." I know that I am taking this out of context, but I know God, and I know that He will one day wipe every tear away. He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him. I know that God says that those who are mourn are blessed, for they shall be comforted (Matthew 5:4). I know, because somewhere down the road, I heard and listened.

Today, I ask you to just listen. There is much to be heard, especially when you just have nothing to say. It is during our quiet times with God that we speak volumes