Obligatory Blog Post

Hello, dear blog. It's been so long, I know. It's not that I don't love you. It's simply that there's only so much of me to go around, and lately Facebook has been courting me with it's instant gratification and speedy interaction. I highly doubt people are interested in reading one line snippets here in blogland.

But, dear blog, you are my true love. If I had to choose between the two of you, you'd win hands-down.

Where shall I begin in catching you up.

How about with a picture?

Here's a hat I recently finished. It's the Fake Isle pattern, and I adore it. Too bad it's about a million degrees and I won't get to wear it for about 6 more months, if at all. I really love it!

I've also been doing some spinning when I get the chance. Little bits here and there. I'm working on some lovely white alpaca my parents sent me, and trying my best to spin a laceweight 2 ply. I've been somewhat successful. I'm proud for a first attempt at something so fine.

Really, there hasn't been much in the way of knitting or spinning going on. Things have just been too busy and hectic this summer!

In the never-ending quest to get J ready for Kindergarten, we've been spending a lot of time in doctor's appointments. So far we've managed to finally eradicate the strep that he's been carrying around since about December or January, eliminating the need for a tonsillectomy this summer. *whew*

We've also visited the neurologist, who ordered a sleep study and an MRI to be done. The sleep study was completed 3 weeks ago, and it was a story all to itself. Be glad that I'm sparing you the details. Imagine hooking any 4-year-old up to about 30 various wires, then instructing him to go to sleep in a strange room, without his beloved tv or lights. Oh, and did I mention that it stormed like crazy all night, just to add to the creepy effect? He did fine, but it was a long night for both of us.

We've got an appointment with the pediatrician next week for a physical, which is a prerequisite to the MRI that will be taking place the following week. Being 4, they're going to sedate him for it, which scares the bejeezus out of me. I know that anesthesia is pretty darn safe these days, but still... The day after the MRI he has a dentist appointment to fill a cavity, and the day after that we have our meeting with the school board to discuss his services and approve his education plan.

ARRG! Enough to make your head spin, right?

Now add to that a crazy-hectic work schedule, the fact that I'm also working my butt off to finish my transcription course. I finished my very last report yesterday. Now it's just a matter of submitting them all and taking my final exam. Yippie! I'm really, truly almost done. And just in time, as the girl that does our transcription at the office is going on vacation the first week of August, and I'm hoping they'll let me take over.

And to top off our crazy summer, our shed was burglarized last week and they stole all of our lawn equipment. More of a pain in the ass than a major crime, but still, a HUGE inconvenience in the middle of rainy season when the grass needs cutting twice a week.

But I don't want to end this post on a sour note. Let's focus on something good, shall we?

Our house sits right on the border of three school zones. Two of the three schools are decent schools, but unfortunately, we're about two streets to the other side of the decent schools, and J is zoned to go to a failing school. I put in a request for transfer before the end of last year, but wasn't holding out much hope. Due to budget cuts and capacity issues, most of the schools in the county are not accepting any transfers. Today I got the letter in the mail letting me know that J's request was approved, and he will be able to attend a different school! Yay!

What I did on my summer vacation

Summer is here, and we're off to a busy start.

Saturday we met up with Michele for one last pre-baby afternoon together. We wandered the mall a bit, let J play in the mall playground while we sat comfortable and knit on our respective socks, and then met up with Wil and the in-laws for dinner at Olive Garden.

Yesterday we headed over to Mary's house for a barbecue and swimming day. Unfortunately, it rained like crazy, so there wasn't a whole lot of swimming, but the barbecue was good, and the company even better. J had a great, even if he did have to play with girls.

Today we had our appointment with the neurologist, which was a treat all in itself. Both he and his staff were rude and cocky. But I wasn't really there to make friends, so I can let that go. Overall, he seems to feel that J-man is neurologically intact, just awkward and slow. That's a relief, huh? Still, he wants to run a few tests just to be sure, or to line his wallet. He's got J scheduled for a sleep study next week, which means that I need to stock up on some good coffee and yarn since I'll get to stay there all night with him. I'm sure it'll be a real treat, and I'm positive I'll have no trouble getting him to fall asleep at 8:00 with wires glued all over him.

I have to keep reminding myself to think positive.

We're still waiting for the hospital to call and schedule his MRI. So for now it's just a waiting game.

What else are we doing? Well, next week, before the sleep study, J's having two fillings done. We're looking to signing up for karate lessons, and I've got J signed up for a 3 day a week playgroup with one of his teachers.

My original plan for this summer was to simply work on my transcription and get it done (we've heard that before, right... yeah, for the past 3 years or so!), and simply enjoy these last few months together before 'real' school started and routines got crazy again.

I'm sure we'll still find time to enjoy ourselves, but as the days go by, and the calendars fill up more and more, I'm starting to think I'll need to set my alarm an hour or two earlier just to fit everything in.

Oh well, that was a boring update, wasn't it? No pictures, no yarn. I'll do better next time.

Computers baffle me

I've been trying, for nearly a week now, to upload video of J's graduation so I can share it with family and friends. Hubby bought me new software so that I could edit it, etc. But it seems that software now comes in a DVD format, and my computer does not have a DVD drive, so we installed it on his laptop instead. No big deal, right? Right. So I go to connect the camera to his laptop, and imagine my frustration when the camera drivers weren't compatible with Windows Vista!

Can't anything just be simple? Seriously.

I'm going to look around and see if there are any updated drivers available, and if not I'm probably just going to go and get a DVD drive for this computer. It seems I need one anyway if I intend to keep up with modern technology.

Processing

I took J-man to the doctor today to have a follow-up strep test, which revealed that he is, indeed, a carrier. No big surprise there, right? He's had strep 4 times since February! The course of action for now is Clindamycin for 10 days, and that's supposed to knock it out of there. We'll go back to the doctor in 2 weeks and have him re-tested. If he's still positive then the next step is a tonsillectomy. There's something so unsettling about considering any sort of surgery for your baby. Yes, I know that a surgeon can probably perform the procedure with his eyes closed and one hand tied behind his back, but still... it's surgery, and it's my baby, and it rattles me.

And while we're on the subject of being rattled...

I also talked with his doctor about his motor skills, the testing we're going through with the school board, and what her opinion was about it. She's referring us to a neurologist for evaluation, and lightly mentioned that there's a possibility that he has a defect in his corpus callosum, which is the band of tissue that joins the two hemispheres together. Sounds scary, but she assures me that it's really not a big deal and that with some special services, he'll be able to do fine in school and life.

So, the proper paperwork has been submitted to the insurance company for the referral, and I'll be calling next week to get an appointment with the neurologist. They'll most likely schedule an MRI. Yikes!

It's a lot to swallow. I came home and did a little reading about this whole corpus callosum thing, and here's a blurb:

"Signs and symptoms of ACC and other callosal disorders vary greatly among individuals. However, some characteristics common in individuals with callosal disorders include vision impairments, low muscle tone (hypotonia), poor motor coordination, delays in motor milestones such as sitting and walking, low perception of pain, delayed toilet training, and chewing and swallowing difficulties. Laboratory research has demonstrated that individuals with ACC have difficulty transferring more complex information from one hemisphere to the other.[4] They also have been shown to have some cognitive disabilities (difficulty in complex problem solving) and social difficulties (missing subtle social cues), even when their Intelligence Quotient is normal."

Umm, yeah, so if a paragraph could be written to sum up J-man, that's probably it. Scratch the vision impairment, though. As far as we can all tell, his eyes work fine.

In the meantime I'm supposed to go through and gather as much info as I can for the neurologist-- things like when he reached milestones like sitting, walking, talking and also any significant family history of abnormalities. Umm, yeah, it could be a long list! :) All joking aside, I've got a lot to process and try not to worry incessantly over.

I'll take Strep for $200, Alex

A visit to the pediatrician's office this morning rendered the diagnosis of strep, and a 10 day course of antibiotics. Apparently half of the county is sick. The lobby was standing room only, and they'd only been open for 30 minutes when we arrived. Wanna talk about a germ factory! I felt sick just walking in there among the hacking coughs, snotty noses, and kids with flushed cheeks and garbage cans in their laps. We always joke that if J isn't sick when he walks into the doctor's office, he will be when he walks out.

We camped out in a corner to ourselves for the most part, me holding my 65 pound kid in my lap, drool running from his chin because he didn't want to/couldn't swallow, and listened to people bitch about the wait time.

When we finally got called back, we got stuck with the one doctor in the entire practice that I can't stand. I gritted my teeth through the entire 30 seconds she spent in the room, took my prescription, and went home.

You know, they should open a drive-thru pediatrics office. Don't even have to get them out of the car, just roll down the window, have them stick out their tongue, and give a discount for the parents that bring their own pre-swabbed Q-tip. Pick up your prescription at the second window, please.

Anyway, this post is just a product of my lack of sleep, and can be completely disregarded.

Happy Monday

Just a little blog update while I have 5 minutes to myself.

Not a whole lot of interesting stuff is going on around here. Hubby's car finally broke down on Friday. We've been wondering how long it would go before finally doing so. It's been a great car, so I'm not begrudging it one bit. We were hoping it would give us a couple more months because we're currently on the lookout for a new one, anyway. Looks like we're going to have to fork over the repair money and keep it a little longer though.

The only inconvenient thing is, it broke down on the very top floor of the parking garage, making it impossible to get a tow truck to pick it up. This morning after dropping J off at school we had to go up and push it back down to the street so that the tow-guy could get to it. Fun times, I tell ya. There's nothing like pushing a car, in the cold and rain, through a busy hospital parking garage. We got some ugly looks. But it's done, and it's now at Mr. Bruce's shop waiting on a new front axle and serpentine belt. The beast should run another 100,000 miles after this, given it's track record.

In the knitting/crochet arena. I have lots of projects I'd like to be working on, if only I could find the time. I've got the Granny cardi version 2.0 currently in the works. All I've managed to accomplish is the back and part of one front. Alas, I need to set it down and get to work on some baby goodies. Two of the girls in my knitting group are expecting. One of them in the next few weeks. I picked up some lovely purple wool/silk blend yarn the other day on clearance- $2.00 a ball. I'm thinking little eyelet cardigans for both, along with some booties? I'd better get crankin!

And that's it. Nothing much to report. I promise a better post when I have the time.

Going around

Guess who's got the chills, aches, and a sore throat today?

Yup.

Entirely my fault. But who can resist kissing and snuggling with a sick baby boy?

But we all know that moms don't have time to get sick, so I'm just going to press on and pretend all is right with the world.

And on an entirely different subject... tomorrow's election day. Go out and vote.

That's about as political as I'll get here, I promise. And to be honest, I'm not sure how I'm going to manage to do it. Right now I'm working on just finding someone to watch my kid so I can go to work. J's school is a polling place, and so there's no school for him tomorrow.

The grandparents will watch him, but they want to go vote, too. And, while Abuelo drives (god help us!) he refuses to drive with J in the car. He's just too nervous. And while that's absolutely fine with me-- him not driving around with my son in tow all the time, it makes it kind of difficult when I'm scheduled to work every single hour that the polling locations are open. So, while I could be late back from lunch and drive all the way across town in order to vote myself, I can't seem to find a way around the grandparents voting unless he'll simply man up and realize that he CAN drive the 2 miles it takes to get to city hall with a chatty 4-year-old in the back seat. Why does EVERYTHING have to be so difficult. I mean seriously... these are the silly things I have to deal with on a daily basis.

And now I'm going to go cast on a pair of socks, or a scarf, or some other fairly mindless and small project in preparation for my long lunch hour of standing in line.

More drugs, please

Good lord, sometimes life can be crueler than fiction.

As of Sunday we didn't have a single operational vehicle in our driveway. It always seems to happen that way, and usually when the bank account is at it's emptiest. Why is that?

Fortunately, hubby's car was an easy fix-- just needed a new battery. At least, that's what we thought. But after purchasing said new battery and installing it, the little beast still gave trouble starting. Ends up there's a bad terminal, too. Not a major problem, but one hubby wasn't interested in addressing at 10 pm while hunched over the hood of his car in the dark, flashlight between his teeth, in a drizzle. It got him to work today, so I'm assuming that it's still ok.

My car, on the other hand. Well, has anything ever been cheap or easy to fix on it? Nope.

So, after just paying off all of our credit card debt, I had to go and plunk down a huge sum of money this morning for a new serpentine belt and tensioner. Who knew that a tensioner was an expensive part?

My biggest predicament with the car being broken today, of all days, was that not only did I have to get J to school, but had to be back by 11 because his class was putting on a "funny feet parade" in honor of the letter F. Cute, right? J proudly designed his own funny foot coverings out of some of those little foam craft sheets and lots of stickers. He was quite proud of them. How could I miss my baby boy's shining moment as leader of the parade?

The mechanic assured me that he'd have it done on time, and I'll be damned if he didn't pull it off-- I pulled out of the shop at 10:50! I made it just in time to watch J throw a temper tantrum and refuse to participate in the parade because a piece of his little costume had come undone. So we sat and watched the rest of the school and I cheered them on while he stood in the corner, arms crossed, sulking.

After that, it was a trip to the dentist for me. I could stop here, but why?

You see, I've got this weird sort of tolerance for local anesthetics. It's happened in the past on three occasions in this particular dentist's chair, and he's well aware of it. He has me come in about an hour before he's ready to get started, he gives me the good stuff, and then leaves me to sit so it can take effect. Today it didn't work. We went two rounds- four injections each, and only the slightest bit of numbing. Finally, I told him to go ahead and just start drilling. Two excruciating hours later, I've got a new temporary filling holding a tiny fraction of tooth together, and he stated that when I'm ready for the actual root canal and crown, he's going to refer me out to a surgeon who can do full anesthesia, then drops the bomb that in order to get a crown on this tooth I'm going to require gum surgery as well. I'm now strongly leaning towards simply extracting the offending molar and being done completely and forever. I'm waiting on insurance to give me quotes to make the decision final. Even the dentist agrees that it won't be too much of a loss to go that route. Maybe he just doesn't want to see me back in his chair, white knuckling the armrests. Really, he's a great guy, and it's not his fault.

Perhaps the only saving grace of the day is that J fell asleep in the car on the way home from Abuela's at 6, which means I can probably drink myself into oblivion before he wakes up at 2 a.m. ready to start a new day.

And really, I do have cute and uplifting things to share with you. But it'll have to wait until the right side of my face stops throbbing.

All in a day

Man, some days you're better off just staying in bed.

Before 7 am J had already sneezed a mouthful of half-chewed raisin bran all over the back of my neck, and then proceeded to gag and puke the rest of his breakfast on my foot. Makes you all want to rush right out and have kids, doesn't it?

Who am I kidding, most of you already have kids, and are well ahead of me on all of this.

We had major meltdowns over everything from the way his underwear didn't match his pants to snotty noses, to sock seams, which all culminated in "I'm not going to school today, Mommy." Of course, this led to me forcing him, one gentle push at a time to the car, into the car, into the car seat, to the school, out of the car again, and ALL the way down the hall to his class, all the while whispering evil threats of Pokemon revoking, tv and computer game restrictions, straight down to a timeout right there in class, on the floor, while he kicked bruises into my shins. No idea where my son gets his morning mentality!

I can't take mornings like this, and yet I don't know how to prevent them. The snotty cereal on the back of the neck I can deal with, but the attitude and the stubborn streak and the just plain ugly? Not my bag. And I've said it before, but I can sympathize. Just like me, the child isn't wired for mornings. I could wake him up at 6, at 5, at 4 even, and he's still not going to be prepped and ready for a good day.

And I'll hang my head shamefully and admit to coddling him, to giving in to him all too frequently on the little things, but this going to school thing... well, it's a requirement. He has to attend, or get dropped. I guess the good side is that we're (hopefully) getting this out of his system before he starts kindergarten next year. That, and he goes to a great school, and his teachers and admin are very patient and understanding with him.

But still... I can't help but feel like one of our clients--one of the ancient old ladies ambulating with a walker, being dragged across the lobby by a great dane that's hellbent on eating the poodle cowering behind it's owner's ankle-- every time I walk through the door. I know all the other parents are looking at me and him and shaking their heads in disgust... or at least praising all that is holy that it's not THEIR child acting that way.

And then I went to work.


Fast forward to lunch time. I picked J up from school, got caught in the hall having an impromptu parent-teacher conference which ate up half my time, then rushed to the inlaws to drop him off there so I could get back to work, and they friggin weren't home! WTF?! How long have I had this same schedule? These same work days with these same times? So I called hubby, just to get someone else involved in the drama, I suppose.

J and I made the best of it and had a picnic on the front porch while we waited-- more because it was now after 1 p.m. and I hadn't even had any breakfast yet.

I finally got him dropped off, got back to work, and had a 45 minute phone conversation with a crazy lady who insisted that her cats were infested with some sort of parasitic creatures with red beady eyes that were burrowing under her skin and chewing holes in her buttocks and *said in that low, confidential whisper* "inside me, ya know... inside me." Oh God help me!!

Shall I continue?

On the way to pick J up I got a phone call from my sister telling me that the dog had locked her out of the house.

Then I get home, sit down, and the doorbell rings and there stands the pizza guy with a pizza I didn't order.

And now? Now that it's nearly 10 pm. I think my day is finally reaching a moment of normalcy. Hubby is on the couch watching some weird Japanese game show, Jonas is running around blowing a horn and making all sorts of wild noise because he took a nap at Abuela's and isn't the slightest bit tired, and the dog is sitting here, head in my lap, banging her tail loudly against the metal base of the lamp, begging for me to take her out. This is calm in my world.

Over this

Damn, I'm tired. Like room spinning, can't focus on a thing, tired.

J's been 'not right' since Thursday afternoon. He came home from school, whined for a few minutes, complained of his cheek hurting, then promptly fell asleep on the couch. Totally NOT J-like behavior. He doesn't nap- never has. He woke 2 hours later with a raging fever and was inconsolable.

The doctor just shrugged at me, acted annoyed by my presence-- just another mom that thinks the sky is falling every time their kid sneezes. But honestly, despite his lower fever in the exam room, and his much more chipper demeanor, there's something WRONG with him.

I kept him home from school Friday, even though he seemed to feel a little better. I'd rather not be one of those moms that sends their germbag off to class to infect everyone else.

All day Friday, he seemed to be better, although there was still the weird cheek pain thing, and no interest in food.

Saturday... Ugh! Saturday. If ever there was a world record for longest day of the year, it would have been Saturday. Between a whiney, not quite right kid, and the other crap that I don't really feel like rehashing right now, Saturday was the suckiest of sucky days. Total suckage.

J fell asleep around 9. I joined him around midnight. About half an hour later, I was yanked out of my nearly-sleep by that croupy cough that probably every mom has heard at least once. It was nearly two hours of watching him struggle for breath, his little belly breathing, chest sucking, no air getting in, panic while sitting in the bathroom floor, holding all sixty pounds of him and rocking and singing while the shower ran out of hot water before he was, as if someone flipped a switch, fine again.

After that, going back to sleep just wasn't going to happen. We curled up together on the couch and praised the great deity BrightHouse for the fact that Noggin is now a 24 hour channel until the sun came up and he finally nodded off to sleep.

This day isn't going fast enough for my liking. J seems to feel good today, but has laryngitis and is frustrated by his inability to talk much. I have to admit, despite how much I sometimes wish he'd put a cork in it for a little while, I really do miss my little chatter box.

The only positive to come out of all of this is some completely ADD knitting. I got a wild hair and cast on for a pair of mittens at about 3 this morning, but as a result of no sleep and not enough coffee, I got gauge all wonky and these things could have fit sasquatch with room left over. Fortunately I wasn't so delirious that I got much past the ribbing before the little voice in the back of my head spoke up and said "hey dumbass, put down the needles!" So I picked up the crochet hook and finished J's spidey blanket. It's blocking right now, and once it dries, if it ever does, I'll find somewhere to hide it until Christmas.

I also cast on for Mystery Stole 4. Since MS3 was such a total failure for me, I figured why not go and set myself up for more of the same. Maybe this will be the year for me to actually finish something lace. Maybe.

Oh, and I did a few more rows on the Shalom Cardigan that I've been avoiding like the plague. It's not the sweater I hate, it's the sweater. The pattern's great, the result is looking good, but knitting it is an exercise in knitterly hell. Knitting something that big and heavy on giant needles-- man! Every single stitch seems so exaggerated in it's execution. The effort of just wrapping each stitch, and moving the resulting fabric along the needles seems like too much work. Or maybe I'm just that tired. I do think that the final product will be something I'm proud of, if I don't end up in dual wrist braces by the time I get there!

Just another weekend post

Yesterday ended up being a ridiculously busy day, and it totally started out in a Murphy's Law sort of way. As I was getting out of my car at work, at the ungodly hour of a quarter to sunrise, sans caffeine, and juggling my large purse (mom-bag), my even larger coffee cup, and my soda, I fumbled my keys, and while trying to recover them, ended up dropping my soda. Sodas don't lend themselves well to 4 foot falls onto asphalt. And so there I stood, in an absolute shower of sticky soda, getting sprayed from head to toe, and soaking wet. What do you do? I cursed, picked up the now empty can, and slogged inside trying to figure out what to do about my situation. Too late to drive all the way back home for new scrubs, and no way I was going to be able to wear these, I went diving in the closet, hoping to find something at least relatively matching and in a size that might fit.

I managed to find a green top and green pants-- not the exact same hue, but close enough, and only one size larger than I usually wear. So, looking all wrinkled and frumpy, that's how my day started.

Then it just got better as I came home and got to mow the yard in triple-digit heat. Not so bad, except for every time I took a break to drink some water and sit in the shade for a few minutes, the darn thing wouldn't start back up. What's usually a 45 minute to an hour job ended up taking about 4. But it looks better out there, and I'm not going to lose a small child in the overgrowth now. :) Seriously, it's hard to keep the yard trim and neat when it rains every day after work. And true to form, just after I finished mowing, it stormed again.

In other news, I also have my first 'real' transcription job, and had to get it done yesterday, too. The transcription part isn't difficult at all, it's getting my templates set up so that they are identical to what the doctor is used to having. This isn't going to be a permanent gig, but if it works out and I do a good job, there's potential there for it to turn into one eventually. The girl that does the transcription for our office is on vacation this week, and so they've asked me to do it for her, instead of waiting for her to come back. I'm not looking to take anyone's job from them, but I'd really like it if they'd consider me for an in-house transcriptionist instead of sending out all of the reports. I could have a much quicker turn-around time-- same day even. Keeping my fingers crossed.

And finally, not really feeling like making a huge production over dinner, and yet absolutely starving, I made a big pot of chicken soup, using up some leftover rice from dinner earlier in the week and some other veggies we picked up at the produce store. It was warm and delicious, and a perfect dinner, despite the heat outside. There's just something so yummy about a big pot of homemade soup. And I'm thrilled that J agrees.

Today we're going to head up to Michele and Thomas' house to hang out for a little while and throw some ribs on the grill. I had to call my Dad to get instructions on the proper method, of course. No one I know can make ribs as yummy as his.

And finally, we're in the final week of preparation for J's birthday. I can't believe my little baby is turning 4 already! I know every parent says that every year, but truly-- where does the time go?

Instead of a big birthday party, we decided to take the money we would have spent on decorations and invitations and food and renting a place (since our house just isn't big enough) and we're going to the Nick Hotel in Orlando for a few days instead. The parents will be meeting us there, as well as the nephew and my sister. There's so much to do on site that I don't know if we'll end up going to one of the theme parks, or just enjoying ourselves there. Either way, it'll be great.

When it rains

My car is cursed. Seriously. It has a mind of it's own, and works on it's own schedule. Usually, when it's feeling snarky is exactly when I need it to be on it's best behavior-- much like my son.

For months now, intermittently, it's left me stranded somewhere. You get in, turn the key, and nothing. It's not the battery because I can still roll the windows up and down and the dome light works, as well as the radio. Twice, I've pulled it into the auto parts store to have the alternator checked, and it's passed with flying colors, too.

Yesterday, while out running errands in the too-hot-to-breathe afternoon heat, it decided to play it's tricks on me. Every time I give in and call someone to come 'rescue' me, it starts right up when they get there. And true to form, once Wil arrived, driving 20 miles out of his way, in his company van, it did the exact same thing.

Fortunately, I have a pretty cool mechanic, who graciously allowed me to bring it straight over. He thinks it's the starter. That's a simple fix, I suppose. The bad news is he'll need to keep the car for a couple of days while the starter gets rebuilt. Apparently, that's the cheaper way to go, and I'm all for that. The problem with him keeping the car is that I NEED my car. It's the only car that's really safe enough to put J in. I suppose the chances of having an accident in Wil's car in the two days or so that I'd have to depend on it are fairly slim, but still... who wants to strap their kid into a car with back doors that stick, has no a/c, and sounds like armageddon when it runs?

Yeah, it's only a temporary thing, but still... I'm going to have to suck it up. Right now I'm on pins and needles every time I start it up, not sure when it's going to decide it's done for good.

As a bonus, this means that I won't be going to Stitch N Pitch this weekend, which I really wanted to do. J would have loved the game, and how often do I get a chance to hang out with a bunch of knitters?

*sigh*

In good news, I got my new-to-me computer this weekend, thanks to Michele. Soon I'll have pictures to share and I can get back on track with all things net related.

And speaking of Michele, it seems we manage to find some excuse to get together almost every weekend for a little knitting time, and yet my FO count doesn't seem to go anywhere. Funny how that happens. I did finish up my puke monkeys this weekend. Pictures soon, I promise. Let me say this: I adore the monkey pattern! It was a great and quick knit, and the result would be fabulous in a different yarn. I can totally understand why Knit Picks discontinued the Dancing line. I love the elasticity of it, but the color? Total Fug. Still waffling on whether to overdye these, or just leave them as is. I don't know if I know anyone who's got a loud enough personality to pull off wearing them as is.

I cast on a new pair almost immediately. That says a lot for the pattern. I've never once had a desire to knit the same thing twice. There are just too many good patterns out there that I want to do. But Monkeys are great lunch hour, car ride, tv watching socks. Unfortunately, I didn't like the way this yarn looked in the pattern, either, and they were turning out huge, even after starting them three different times, on three different needles. So they got frogged. I contemplated Jaywalkers, but with instructions to cast on 72 stitches for the smallest size, I feared disastrous results, and so frogged those too. I think this yarn just wants to be plain old stockinette socks. Oddly, I've never done plain socks before. I'll keep these in my purse for mindless knitting, and maybe go stash diving for something more mentally stimulating.

Anyway, long post, no pictures. I'm sure you're yawning.

A Public Plea

After nine years of faithful service, my good old computer finally bit the dust.

And while I do not completely mourn it's passing, I do curse it just a little bit for going to the grave with everything I hold dear inside--- like all of my transcription stuff, my pictures, my bookmarks, and my email contacts.

I'm still hopeful that hubby can wave some sort of magic wand over the hard drive and make some of the stuff reappear, but as the weeks go by with no action, I am now putting out there a public plea...

If you were once in my address book, and occasionally enjoy a message from me, please, oh please, oh pretty pretty please, send me an email at mommyleek at gmail dot com, or mommyleek at cfl dot rr dot com, so that I might recover at least some of the addresses I've lost.

Further, if I seem to have been ignoring your blog for the past few months, I'd really appreciate dropping a link in the comments so that I might rebuild my bookmark folder.

Thank you.

Whew! That was close!

You know, you never expect for things like this to happen to you. No matter how big of a threat there is-- it just never seems like it's going to be your emergency, until it is.

A week ago today most of our city was battling brush fires-- about three miles south east of us it was a raging inferno and we were sitting right here watching it on the news, calling our friends who's homes were in danger, and offering assistance. We were sitting pretty, upwind of the blazes, and not worried a bit for our own possessions and lives.

Then, out of nowhere, I look out the livingroom window and there's smoke in our backyard. Hubby jumped up and ran outside to discover a new fire started about 4 streets west of us and moving our way fast. I can't even begin to tell you the entire sequence of fortunate events that occurred that day, and most of it is still a big blur, but someone was looking out for us.

As he turned on ever sprinkler we had and began hosing down the roof, I ran around inside, trying to gather important paperwork and throw a change or two of clothes together for us, knowing we only had minutes to get out.

I'll spare you the panic and the chaos of trying to keep calm and brave in front of the kids while being eaten away by total panic inside. But we managed to throw a few things in the car, load up the dogs and the two cats we could catch, and we pulled out of the driveway as the flames crossed the canal and began burning our street.

I'll never forget sitting there, less than a block away, stuck in traffic with the smoke billowing up in the rear-view mirror, sickly knowing that the black smoke was our house and everything we owned burning up. And while it hurt, I didn't lose sight of all rationality. I had my pets, my family, and honestly, nothing else really mattered. It was a sick sort of calm.

We got the animals to the kennel and went to sit anxiously at the inlaws, with no local tv, no radio, and no way of knowing how bad things were.

Sometime around midnight, after J was asleep, we decided to try and get back to survey the damage.

The neighborhood was a warzone of smoke, still burning fires, and chaos. But there in the bend of the road, amidst the cinders and smoldering woods, was our house, still standing, and untouched!

Our next door neighbors were our angels that night-- refusing to leave. And when the fire trucks ran out of water, they carried on, hooking the well pumps up to their generator and battling the hotspots with garden hoses.

They saved our home and theirs, and there's no way in the world I could ever repay them for such bravery and selflessness.

Things are slowly getting back to normal for us, but for so many folks around us, normal is gone. It's a charred wasteland surrounding us, dotted with eerily untouched homes. It almost makes you feel guilty to be so lucky.

Almost no knitting

It seems like forever since I've managed to update any sort of knitting content. I've been working on the ballet cami that I was supposed to be knitting, oh, about 6 months ago. I'm done with the waist decreases, and starting in on the increases. I'd share a picture, but I haven't got one. Besides, it's an uninteresting to look at purple blob right now. I do have my concerns about this pattern, though. I prefer my clothes to not be clingy. You know, hide the middle parts, etc. Even knit using a larger size than necessary, it appears pretty small and clingy. Yes, I do realize that's sort of the intention of the pattern. If nothing else, it'll look great as a shell underneath something, I suppose. Or I'll find it a proper home if I really won't wear it.

The reason there's been so very little knitting is quite simple. Time. Some days I feel like I haven't got time to even sit down. I'm on the go from the minute I roll out of bed at some ungodly hour (and I'm not a morning person), until my head hits the pillow at another ungodly hour.

Throw in a lot of gardening that needed to be accomplished before the plants died, and an impromptu plumbing job, and that's about all the excuse I need.

Yes, lets talk about plumbing jobs.

Hubby is not the most industrious person in the world. It's not that he's lazy, he's just difficult to motivate at times. He's slow and meticulous, and it takes him darn near forever to accomplish something that I could do in about 15 minutes. So, when he said he wanted to work on the flower beds, the skeptic in me rolled her eyes. But how do you discourage someone from doing something like that?

So Sunday, when he went out to finish the last of the straggling flower beds without prompting, I was quite amazed, and decided to stay inside and out of his way. Yes, I'm a hover-er.

All of a sudden, from the other side of the kitchen window, I hear a string of bilingual foul words, followed by a loss of water at the kitchen sink. Who knew that the main water line from the well ran directly through that flowerbed? Further, who knew it was only about 2 inches underground?


The hubby has bad karma. He cracked it with a hoe breaking up roots.

So it was a quick run to the hardware store to repair it, lest we be without water indefinitely. Ummm... not an option.

Neither of us have ever repaired plumbing before, but it seemed simple enough... Cut out the broken piece,

(notice hubby doesn't seem very amused)
fit in a new one, some of that blue goo to hold it, and viola! Fixed pipe.



Of course, I covertly made a quick call to Dad while hubby was at the hardware store just to make sure we were on the right track. Thanks Dad! and shhhh... don't tell Wil!

I wanted to show you pictures of the finished flower beds and the veggie garden. They're looking quite lovely! But once again, my morning time has run out. *sigh* maybe tonight, if I get home at a decent enough hour.

Gee, thanks

There's no denying that my son is big for his age. He's not a fat kid, just big. He tops the charts in both height and weight, and you don't have to tell my back that he's almost freakishly heavy. It's never been a real issue with us, and we've often laughed at the fact that he and his 9-year-old cousin wear about the same size in clothes. It makes for laundry day chaos. But there is one major problem I've been facing recently: His car seat.

Now state law says that children MUST ride in a carseat with a 5 point harness until the age of 4 AND 40 pounds. Well, we've got the 40 pounds licked, but we're still pretty far from the appropriate age for converting his seat to a booster. But the straps are only rated safe up to 40 pounds, and, well, have you ever tries stuffing a big kid into a little seat? It's no fun. Fully extended, the straps just barely reach around him, and the buckle between the legs? Well, it's most uncomfortably wedged under his butt. Seriously, if he's got on anything thicker than a t-shirt and jeans, forget it.

At a loss for what to do, I recently queried his pediatrician's office with my dilemma. They searched all their safety books, consulted with their manuals, and came up empty handed. No one can tell me if it's safer to convert his seat based on his weight, or to continue cramming him in because of his age.

So, I sat down with all my car seat information, and I wrote a letter to the sheriff's office asking their take on the situation. I was thorough, listing the brand of seat I was using, that it's rated up to 100 lbs as a booster, the positioning of it in my car, my car make and model, my son's height, weight, and age info. And I asked for suggestions on the safest way to strap him in.

Here's the response I received:
"Most straps on car seats are rated to 40lbs. but there are some out there made for larger children and the straps can go all the way to 65lbs. They are not as common but they are out there.
Thanks"

Ummm... ok, well, until I can find one of these elusive car seats, what am I supposed to do? Is my son safe riding with a harness labeled for 40 lbs and under until I can get my hands on (and afford) one of these larger seats? And perhaps a link to an appropriate manufacturer, or seat? That was a lot of help. I'm not asking for them go go out and buy one for me, but just a little help would be appreciated.

Tax dollars hard at work.

Anyone know where I can find the husky seats? And I have to admit that, while his safety is certainly number 1 on my priority list, I'm a bit put off at the prospect of having to shell out a couple hundred bucks for a new seat that he'll use for all of 5 months before he can use the perfectly good booster I already have.

The things you can find in my shed

Meet Dirty Kitty. She's the little stray that adopted me a little over a year ago. Literally. She walked up to me, climbed my leg, rested her head on my shoulder, and from there on out, she has claimed residence on my porch, or somewhere in the vicinity of my house. She's not the sweetest cat in the world, but she's certainly not feral.

You'd think that working for a vet's office, I'd have had her spayed by now, but to be quite honest, I haven't really got the resources to be taking in every stray that wanders this way, and I've resigned myself to simply being a food source for her, and not getting emotionally attached.

But time works strange magic on you, doesn't it? More and more often we find ourselves saying "Have you seen Dirty Kitty today?" or "I'm going to go check on Dirty Kitty. It's sort of cold out tonight."

Well, as all unspayed little kitties will do, she turned up looking quite a bit larger than usual one day, and we all knew what was coming. What we didn't know is that she'd pick the coldest, windiest night of the year to have them. Actually, she may have had them the night before, during the torrential downpour, hail, and lightning storm. Either way, her timing sucked.

But when I came home from work yesterday and she wasn't sleeping in her usual place behind the grill, and wasn't chilling in the shade under the RV, I knew she'd gone into labor. I also knew that the kittens didn't stand a chance of survival if they were out in the elements.

So, in the dark, in the cold, in the windy yuck that was last night, I waited, rattling her bowl and waiting for Dirty to come home for some food. Eventually, it paid off, and my suspicions were correct--she had had the kittens.

I sat patiently, in the cold, in the wind, in the dark, and tracked her back to her babies.

She surprised me, though, and proved to be a smarter Mama than I had anticipated. She had them in a box in my shed, under my table, behind all of J's outgrown toys.

I guess she knew I wasn't threatening to her babies because, although she won't let me pick her up now that she's an adult, she allowed me to wrangle the box out from under the table, and bring it, the kittens and her inside.

My hall bath is now a temporary nursery until I can come up with a better solution. And while I never planned on getting involved with any of this, and I always swore I'd just let nature take it's course, I have to admit that they are the cutest darn babies I've ever seen.

All but one have manx tails. How odd.

Size does matter

We had some rough weather a few nights ago, and when I woke up in the morning I realized we'd been hit with a power surge. Fortunately, everything in the house survived except for my computer monitor. Poor old thing! She was a good monitor- big and bulky and taking up far too much room on my desk. But I loved her and all her 17" of pixelated glory. She served me well for nearly 8 years, connecting me to family, friends, school, and all sorts of strange places in between. So I sighed a heavy sigh when I came to accept the fact that no sort of fiddling with her power cord was going to revive her.

New monitors are cheaper than ever now, and I'm really looking forward to an LCD screen and the smaller amount of space it will take up. Can you even buy an old fashioned monitor anymore? The reality is, no matter how much I'm looking forward to a new monitor, my checking account is not looking forward to shelling out for one, even at the cheap prices they can be had for. I suppose cheap is a relative term.

But I can't be computerless for weeks on end. That's like an alcoholic going cold turkey while working at the liquor store. Too much. And yes, I do admit that I spend far too much of my time on the computer. We all have our problems, right? So what's my solution?

My ancient little (I think it's a 15" that was hiding out in the shed. I got this baby for almost free back when I worked at Best Buy. $12 total for it and the little computer with the 4 gig hard drive that I was so glad to have. Amazing how quickly technology changes and we get spoiled to the new stuff, isn't it? I'm telling you, looking at this tiny monitor is doing terrible things to my eyesight! But it works, I think it might actually have a better picture than my old one, and it'll do until we're ready to buy a new one.

Sometimes I'm proud to be a packrat.

Please, just once

can I have a day where something absolutely ridiculous doesn't happen to me?
Tuesday's super-stupid event:

I left my car unlocked in my parents really long driveway in a really good neighborhood while I ran in to get J after work. Sure call me stupid. You can call me even stupider when I tell you that I left my purse inside as well as Mocha's meds, which are controlled narcotics, in there too. Well, you can see where this is going can't you? Yep, my car got broken into. Can you call it breaking in when all they do is open the door?

Did they steal my purse, the dog's meds, or even my cell phone? Nope. You know what they took? A 30-pack of toilet paper I'd just bought at the wholesale club. And it's not like it was in plain sight- it was in the trunk!

Sometimes all you can do is shake your head in wonder.

Today's super-stupid event:

So, the dogs are bouncing around and doing everything they can to let me know that they have to go potty. I can't walk both of them at the same time. That's just too much dog to hold onto while also keeping control of a three-year-old boy. I took Kelli first, since she's the one that has that look that means "Hey Ma! My eyeballs are floating!" Once she's done, I return her to the house and leash up Mocha. Of course, I shut the front door because it's darn near 90 degrees outside today (that's a whole separate topic, though).

Well, you see, Kelli is the over-excited type who does not enjoy being alone in this world. Once we're out of sight she has a momentary meltdown of barking, whining, pacing, and of course jumping at the door.

What did she do? She locked us out of our house! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the flipping dog threw the deadbolt. And of course I didn't have my keys or my cell phone on me because I wasn't going anywhere but to the end of the yard and back.

My situation looked bleak. Who wants to be outside in 90 degree heat with a furry dog, a sweaty kid, and nothing to drink for several hours until someone comes home? Not I. Not J. Certainly not Mocha.

I've heard that it's pretty easy to break in through a locked sliding glass door as long as it doesn't have a bar across it. Well, just so happens my bar is not in place because I was just out on the porch this morning. I figure it's a crapshoot at best. I mean, they say you can do these things, but they also say you can jimmy a car lock with a coat hanger and I've never succeeded at that before, either. But I figure it's worth a shot. What else am I going to do for the next 2 hours, anyway?

Imagine my surprise when it took me all of 30 seconds to lift the door off the latch and slide it right open! Hooray for being inside! But let this be a warning to you... or a couple of warnings, I suppose.

Don't ever leave yourself in a position where your dog can lock you out. And even more importantly, if you have a sliding glass door, make sure you have a safety bar on that mother, cuz if I can do it, your house is in serious trouble from folks that know what they're doing.

Healing in Progress

I do realize that not everyone likes this sort of stuff, so if you're the type that can't stomach cuts, scrapes, and other sorts of owies, turn away now.

I've been taking progress pictures of Mocha's nose every couple of days just to sort of document the progress. I guess it's some sort of perversion that's rubbed off from work where we get to see some really gnarly wounds and stuff. It's fun, and often amazing, to watch the healing process. That, and Mo really hates going to the vet, so it's much easier for me to take a picture in and show it to the doctor rather than make her suffer the indignity of kenneling for the day.

So here they are- in chronological order.





These first two are from the day after surgery. You can see the bruising and inflammation. And, of course, you can see the pain in her eyes and demeanor. Poor girl. For the first couple of days she looked like she was a sharpei mix instead of a chow her nose was so swollen.



After the inflammation went down, these cracks appeared vertically down the front of her nose. They were there all along, but became deeper and more pronounced with the swelling. Don't they look awful?

What? You want a close up? Ok.


And here it is a few days later- looking much less inflammed and more healed than before.


Tomorrow she gets her sutures out and she'll be almost good as new. The scars will make her look tough, I suppose. I'm just glad that it has healed so well. I guess I'm incredibly fortunate to work where I do, or my dogs are, at least.

And kudos to the first person to identify this mystery object: (don't worry, it's not an animal part)