Mixed Bag

I have been such a lazy blogger lately. I lay in bed at night, which seems to be when eloquent, articulate posts start to culminate in my head (but somehow, my brain can't convince my body to get up and write).

So I present to you a mixed bag. There's so much more. But here are the highlights.

First of all, I am extremely excited to announce that I've been asked to join the SpouseBUZZ team as a contributing author. I can't express how honored I am to be able to surround myself with the authors and readers that make SpouseBUZZ what it is. Really, there are no words that could come close to telling you guys how awesome I think this is. Very exciting, indeed.

Total change of subject. Brace yourselves. This is what my arm looks like, 24 hours after my first tattoo removal treatment. It's comical, really, how badly it hurt. I was screaming combinations of cuss words I'm sure no one has ever heard before. And in between, I'd apologize. And then continue to scream:

Tucker was having the same kind of day:

And Chevy, the cat, is getting shaved bald this week. Hair balls have been a daily event at the Scout household, and it's going to stop. Add to the mix a dog in heat (who is getting spayed soon), and another dog allergic to everything on the planet (who is now on steroids). I think I'm very close to losing my mind.

In a strange turn of events, Scout's ex-wife called me out of the blue and said, "So, do you want Scout Jr. for the summer?" UM. HELL YES! So I will be a full-time mother of two very shortly. I can't wait. :)

Study Groups

If I had to pick the one thing that I hate most about formal education, my answer would be this: Study groups.

I'm a little antsy with my upcoming teacher certification, which I am completing online. ABW has asked me if I'll have study groups, to which I reply, "I sure as hell hope not" and then go into an explanation why I think it's unlikely that study groups will be used (that, my dears, is a little friend I like to call Denial).

When I was finishing up my degree, I had study groups in every single freakin' class. I would have dropped out had I known that fact before hand. If you've had even one bad study group experience, you know exactly what I'm talking about (particularly if you're like me: You are the one person in a group of four that actually takes a project seriously. While all three of the others are doing godknowswhat, you're creating, revising, and editing the project. And those assholes get the same 97% that you do, and then one of them has the nerve to tell you that the group would have gotten 100% had you done a better job.)

Well, I was perusing my pictures the other day, and the bad study group memories suddenly rushed to the surface of my thoughts. This girl was perhaps the worst study group member. Ever:

Lord help me if I have to deal with one more stupid study group.

Yesterday

Yesterday, I had a migraine.

I woke up with back and neck pain, due in part to the expensive pillow-top recently purchased piece of crap mattress we have (I knew we should have splurged on a Tempur-Pedic or Sleep Number bed).

Because I get rebound headaches when I take ibuprofen, I refused to take any. So I put heat on my muscles all day and iced my head, which started hurting shortly after I woke up. Despite my best efforts, it quickly went from slight annoyance to miserable pain.

So I took care of Tucker's basic needs, and cuddled him as much as I possibly could without giving into the nausea that had overtaken me. We watched Lifetime movies all day (with the volume at a barely audible level).

So then, when it came time to feed the dogs, I lamely dragged in a new 55 pound bag of dog food from the garage (which had only been there since Thursday). When I opened the bag, there was mold throughout. Not just the powdery mold - it was hairy, nasty, clumpy mold. The whole bag was ruined. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME?" kept repeating in my head.

So I took out a bag of frozen chicken and cooked it on the George Foreman. I took out a bag of frozen peas and boiled them. After dividing it all among five bowls, I poured vegetable soup over it for some flavor. The dogs loved it. But then they sat by the opened bag of spoiled dog food as if to say, "When do we get some of that?"

I barely had any energy left to make myself a sandwich.

Tucker and I went to bed at 8pm (a new record for me), and I prayed that when I woke up it the migraine would be gone. Luckily, someone took pity on me and granted my request.

So today, I can't help but look back and laugh at how absurdly miserable I was. There was nothing funny about it at the time, but I can at least smile today, thankful that yesterday is gone.

And I got through it. By myself.

Adoption

I spend a lot of time contemplating how Scout and I will tell Tucker that he is adopted. Although I think I know how I want to do it, I don't want to say something that will give him more abandonment issues down the road than (from what I've read) adopted children inevitably have.

I've been on an Amazon kick this morning. There are so many books on adoption.

I think I've settled on Twenty Things Adopted Kids Wish Their Adoptive Parents Knew and Talking with Young Children about Adoption for Scout and me. For Tucker, I've chosen Tell Me Again About the Night I Was Born and A Mother for Choco (maybe even Horace).

I wish it was as easy as waving a wand - that Tucker could have a "normal" story; I worry about him so much. I just hope I can convey to him through my love that I would die or kill for him without the blink of an eye. And that love, of course, comes from the fact that he is ours - regardless of genetics.

They Did it!

After many, many months of hard work and the prospect of fertility treatments, Sarah and her husband are finally expecting!

Go wish her happy thoughts!

I guess I'm going to have to start some frenzied baby knitting. I have eight months to drive myself crazy with needles, patterns, and baby yarn (but I'm oh-so-glad)!

Congratulations, Sarah.

Laughable

ABW and I completed our first 5k this weekend.

It's funny to me that I even made it without falling into a coma. But when ABW called me today and said, "WE GOT TROPHIES!!!", I laughed and asked her what she was talking about. She said, "You got first place in your age bracket and I got second in mine!" I really thought she was joking, but she assured me that she was serious. We couldn't stop cracking up. (If I didn't have a nicotine habit to nurse, we would have stayed long enough to know that we had actually placed.)

So here's proof that we actually showed up for the race:


ABW said, "Pretend you're stretching or something." Yeah, not sure exactly which muscle I was pretending to stretch in this one:


She rolled her eyes when I told her to do the same thing:


Junior, looking cute as usual:


And Tucker, doing his best to throw up the entire contents of his stomach (story of my life):


So ladies and gentlemen, if my chunky self can place first in anything athletically related, there's hope for people everywhere.

Package List

I was informed by Scout the other day that he needs two things (for those of you still sending him packages. And I only do this so I don't have forty million people calling me asking me what he needs. I'm not doing this for charity, in case any of you had any doubts. :) And yes, I send him packages too!) Anyway, here are the two things: 1) Disposable cameras. 2) Dog treats. (His unit has adopted five street dogs, one of which is about to have another litter. He said the dogs fall at the soldiers' feet when they want some love. Scout assured me that he will especially take care of the momma dog for me.)

Also, every time Scout receives a package or a letter, I get an excited Instant Message saying, "I got the coolest package/letter from _________ today!" It really makes his day every time that mail comes for him. I'm indebted to all of you that support him while he's gone.

You Know You're a Redneck When...

I have this thing for small town punctuation and grammar. While it would be totally unacceptable in big cities, I find it charming and humorous in the unpretentious small towns that I feel at home in.

Scout is from Tennessee. While we were visiting his parents a while back (who now live in a smallish town in Georgia), we made a quick run to Taco Bell and saw this:


Scout asked me why I was taking the picture. I said, "Read the sign!", to which he replied, "Yeah, so what? The speaker is broke." (I pointed out that the proper use of the word is "broken", but I didn't go into the fact that there was no punctuation, "Thanx" is not professional, and "Taco" is mistakenly spelled T-O-C-A). After we drove away, Scout told me I was a freak. And I said, "Well, you're a redneck, so we're even."

And then, while we were camping on the river near Junction, Texas, which is the loveliest of all small towns, I noticed these two masterpieces:



Have I said how much I love small towns? In case I haven't made it clear, I LOVE small towns.