Dogs and Goats

The perfect combination. (Thanks to Sarah, who knows that dogs and goats are at the top of my Favorite Things Ever List.)

Oh No You Can't

I saw something disgusting in Austin yesterday, similar to this:



I'm the first to admit that I'm not extremely happy with how our options are looking for the upcoming election. But for the love of all that is holy. Are you kidding me with this Spanish crap?

If you can't follow the campaign in English, you shouldn't have the right to vote in the first place!

That's shameful, Obama.

Time

Time, why you punish me?
Like a wave bashing into the shore
You wash away my dreams.
-Hootie and the Blowfish

If it's one thing I hate, it's having my time wasted.

It's kind of like going to the doctor for your annual appointment. You go in, wait an hour to see the doctor, spend thirty seconds with a plastic object cranking open your insides, another two and a half minutes letting them swab whatever it is they swab, and another hour waiting for the doctor to come back in to discuss any other questions you may have. That's not even considering that you may be requesting a prescription refill or a referral, or wait time in the pharmacy line (don't even get me started on that). By the time you're done responsibly preventing cervical cancer, you've wasted a whole work day for a three minute time slot, spreading your legs for a man (or woman) who didn't even buy you dinner first. (Why do you think I stretch my "annual" appointments to, oh, I'd say eighteen to twenty four months? And why do you think I didn't go to the doctor during or after my miscarriage - despite many family members and friends begging me to? A precious little thing called time, my friends.)

Now I hate complaining about the perks we get as military families, because quite frankly, we wouldn't get them anywhere else. However, it seems like the system could use some tweaking. Every time that paperwork is involved, something seems to get screwed up.

We went to enroll Tucker in DEERS, the database that shows him as our dependent and allows him to have medical benefits. Being the good husband that Scout is, he called ahead to see what we would need, seeing as our case is a little bit different than someone who may have had a child naturally. They told him that the birth mother would have to disenroll him first, and that we would need a court order stating we were the adoptive parents. Tucker had never been enrolled in the first place, and we had all of the court documents they were referring to.

So we went in at 0715 in the morning to avoid the lines, and the place didn't open until 0730. I'm only slightly exaggerating when I tell you the line was a mile long.

We finally got up to the counter and the lady told us that we needed a verification of live birth, or some nonsense like that. Sometimes I wish I could actually say the words that circulate loudly in my brain. What came to mind at the time was, "Lady, do you see this live child in my arms? What other verification do you need?"

But instead, I asked her, "So what you're telling me is that we have to go to Labor and Delivery for a copy of the verification of his birth and then come back and stand in this line?" Argh.

Because Scout was misinformed on the telephone (or the lady helping us at the desk didn't know what she was talking about), our time was wasted.

Needless to say, DEERS will have to wait until I have a cocktail of anti-psychotics in my system.

Reason #1,766 Men Need Women

Me: Honey, I'd like to go to that organic nursery tomorrow and find a hostess gift for that barbeque on Saturday.

Scout (looking at me like I'm the dumbest person in the world): Umm. We're not supposed to bring crap like that.

Me: It's called etiquette, dear. You have no say in the matter.

Scout: Whatever. Are you still making lemon bars?

Beef Recall

The videos I've seen of the downer cattle in the most recent beef recall literally made me sick.

I love me some beef from time to time, and I have no moral dilemma hunting wild game; I'm a meat eater. So the rage I feel has nothing to do with the actual slaughtering of animals - it comes from the decency I expect of other human beings to treat their prey with dignity and compassion.

When I hunt dove, I always aim to kill (what hunter doesn't, I suppose?). There's nothing I hate more than having to put the bird out of its misery once I walk up on it. However, I've had to from time to time, and as much as I hate it, it's an act of kindness - why let it suffer?

But what these shit for brains did to these cattle, in my opinion, earns them an automatic one-way ticket to hell. And they should die by way of the way these cattle did - with pain, suffering, and pure misery.

Not to mention the fact that all that beef was wasted.

Maybe if we all lived a little more like Ted Nugent, this wouldn't even be an issue.

Projects

I've been working on some nerdy crafts lately that I wanted to share.

First, I made a dog bed out of a vintage suitcase, inspired by this one. Unfortunately, I can't get a cute enough picture of it (although it's really pretty). Total cost: $12.42 plus tax. Retail stores can kiss my rear end if they think I'm going to pay $25 or more for two pieces of crappy fleece sewn together and stuffed.

And I've had this not so recent (but recently resurrected) obession with rescuing peoples' photographs from antique stores (antique stores, in my opinion, are no place for those precious items). I had no idea what I might do with them until yesterday, when I came up with an idea:


Now I just need some snappy one-liners for the inside of the greeting cards! Fun, huh?

Mace Braxton

I had a really cool experience as a young child: my father took me to see an open heart surgery.

One of the doctors there was so charming, handsome, and kind. His name was Mace Braxton, and he let me watch up close as he removed a vein from the patient's leg in order to put it in his heart.

It's one of those days in my life that I will never forget, and Dr. Braxton was a part of it. He died last week of liver failure.

My heart goes out to his wife, Shirley, as well as the rest of his family and friends that are mourning for him.

Project Linus

I also want to say thank you to Project Linus.

Because it is policy at the hospital Tucker was born to keep all adopted newborns in the NICU, he received a hand made quilt from this non-profit organization. How cool.

Thank You

One disadvantage of having a child is that I don't have the time (or energy!) to showcase all the wonderful gifts you guys have sent. If you've sent a package in the last couple of weeks, thank you.

And don't worry, I know I'm not off the hook yet; I'm big on thank you notes, so if you haven't heard from me yet, you will.

I am seriously amazed at the generosity of not only those people that know me, but of those people that just read my blog and felt compelled to send something. How awesome is that?

Please know that when your box arrived on my doorstep, it lit up my day.

Tucker's First Stock Show (He Was Thrilled)

Tucker meets his first cow:

And his first John Deere:

And his first horse:

You've Got to be Kidding Me

Everyone told me that once we adopted a child, we would get pregnant.

Everyone was right.

What nobody predicted, however, is that we would be saying good-bye before we even knew to say hello.

In my opinion, a miscarriage is a fucked up way to find out you're pregnant.

After cramps, lower back aches, and bleeding, I took a pregnancy test to find out that, yes, I technically still have levels of HCG in my body. But all the other symptoms inevitably mean that the baby is already gone.

But listen, I have a child that I'm terribly in love with - I'm so honored to be his mother. I know how lucky I am. Life is still amazing.

And I'm ok. Really.

Sushi Wallet

If I wasn't a knitter, this sushi wallet would make me want to be.

It's amazing what you can do with some wool and a pair of needles.

Damn, I can't wait to start this project.

Aunt Sarah

I can't believe what Aunt Sarah did for Tucker. Unbelievable.

I'm Awake

It's 0342, and I'm baking cookies.

If you would have told me that having a child would have me up doing domestic chores (and enjoying them) during the hours that I used to be at the bars in college, I would have asked you for whatever drugs you were taking.

Tucker woke me up about 0200 and wouldn't stop screaming. I've learned that he loves to be in a sling around my shoulder, so I strapped him in and started cleaning. And baking cookies - for no other reason than to make Scout smile. And in between batches, knitting.

It's amazing how a child will change your life. Everyone said it, but now I'm experiencing it. I feel more alive than I ever have. And I love every minute of it - even the loud, screaming ones.

Gotta go. Peanut butter cookies are coming out of the oven (and Tucker is now asleep!).

Thanks

Lady at Walmart: Oh! How precious! How old is your baby?
Me: (However many) days old.
Lady at Walmart: Wow! You look great!
Me (as I grin inside): Well, thank you! That's very nice of you...

It's not a common experience for me to have random strangers walk up to me and tell me how hot I am. And I've stopped explaining things to the strangers that feel inclined to ask me how long my labor was or whether or not I had an episiotomy. Seriously. People are so intrusive.

So instead, I allow them to believe what they've assumed to be true, and make my way to the dairy aisle as I think to myself, Well - maybe I can get away with these few extra pounds for a little while longer.

Even More Pictures

Need another picture fix?

Here are the professional pictures we had taken of Tucker.

Isn't he precious?

Tucker's First Time Out

Well, not really. It's just a cute picture.

More Pictures

Grandpa San Antonio and Tucker (I have a picture like this of him holding me on the couch as a baby):


And Grandma San Antonio (with Uncle Cujo, the dog - also notice the *greatest* time out chair in the background. It even has a built-in timer!):

Aunt Vicki, at the hospital:

And Aunt Mella, who is also expecting!:

Interesting

Big surprise: Clinton and Obama are at the bottom of my list.

This is kinda cool. Take it for yourself. Thanks, Debey.

(By the way, the question about abortion is a difficult yes/no question to answer. What do you think?)

You Got It

Alright, y'all. You want pictures, you got 'em.

Here is Tucker, wearing the hat that his Aunt Sarah knit for him:


And Tucker, with Aunt Heidi (isn't she stunning?):


Here he is, on his first phone call from Grandma Seattle:


And of course, with Daddy:


I can't for the life of me figure out how Aunt ABW escaped numerous visits without any pictures. We'll have to fix that!

And pictures with Grandma and Grandpa San Antonio are following soon.

Oh, and Scout graduated early from the school he went to, so he changed his flight home - he'll be here tomorrow. I miss him terribly.