Puppies, Maggots and Snakes Oh My!

I work one day a week at my local gym. It’s good for me because it saves me the cost of my membership every month and I get a couple extra bucks spending cash.

I was hired to torture kids in the gym’s Kid’s Club. Garren, my four year old has found himself a friend there.  We’ll call him “Little D” unless his momma “Mrs. D” tells me it’s ok to use his name.

Now Garren having a friend means one thing to him and another thing to me. To him, he’s found himself a kindred spirit, to me, I need to clean my freaking house so I can have them over for a playdate. All right, I’ll admit it, Mrs. D is pretty cool to hang with too.

I asked pjdaddy to get my floor scrubber out of the garage for me so I can attempt to clean up the joint. Ok gnarly. Apparently this thing hasn’t been used in a while. My bad. Guess I’ll have to take it outside and hose it off. Know what comes out of things that have been stored in the garage for a long time?

^ THOSE! Those come out of your scrubber when you hose it off. Here in Florida they’re called, “Palmetto Bugs”. Palmetto Bugs my ass, those are roaches! COCKroaches. hhhhhmmmm, cock, that’s interesting, but I digress.

I got control of myself and I dealt with it. I finished cleaning that baby because I want to make my house all nice and purty.

I leave the scrubber outside to dry and come in and attempt to recover emotionally……….that is until Garren tells me there’s a worm on the floor.

A worm? That’s weird. Worms are icky, but I can deal with that. After stumbling upon, “The Nest”, I can handle anything, or so I thought. It wasn’t a worm on my floor. It was this:

Ok, there’s a possibility the maggot might not have been that big, but at the time, it sure seemed like it.

Gah. How the HELL am I supposed to clean that up? I do not want to get a papertowel and have that thing within a micromillimeter of my skin. {{{SHUDDER}}}

I scan the living room for ideas of what to do and that’s when I saw it………..my dear sweet puppy brought a little gift into the house.



How am I supposed to get rid of that? I’m surprised the neighbors didn’t call the police with all the shrieking I was doing. Hey, wait a minute, now that I think about it, I’m going to go yell at the neighbors for not calling the police!

^ This man could have been raping me! It would have been just awful. Don’t………….stop! Don’t…..stop! Ok, don’t stop.

Sorry, I had to slip a palate cleanser in there before I went on, now back to the snake. *sigh

I had no freaking idea how I was going to get that out of the house. I opened the back sliding glass door and the puppy decided to help me out. She picked that snake right back up and bounced out of the house, shaking maggots out the whole way.

I come back in the living room to survey the damage. There’s a good 10 of them on my living room floor. FUCK! Seriously, FUCK! This is just waaay too nasty. What the heck? Why does pjdaddy have to work? I need him for this.  I grabbed the vacuum cleaner and sucked them up.

I’m still debating whether or not to set the vacuum on fire.

Luckily, although not for Garren, “Little D” and his family have gone out of town for a month. This means I have a little more time to clean my bug infested home prior to any play dates.

“Mrs. D” however, found this little ditty in the Skymall magazine on her flight out and emailed it to me:

A bug vacuum.

Oh man, I know how to mow the lawn, I’ve got my little toy *cough, all I need is that bug vacuum and a jar opener and pjdaddy’s gonna be obsolete.

Ahhhh, A Relaxing Hobby

I figured with all the crazy going on in my life lately, I needed to do something just for me.  I wanted to take a class. A class that didn’t require studying, or tests or term papers.

Something that was relaxing. Something stress free. I got myself the “adult learning” flier from the library to see what I could find. Maybe some sort of knitting or sewing class?

Once back in the day, I got myself the, “Learn to Knit” guide, video included. I got my knitting needles, my yarn and I started the video. They presented the first stitch. I could not do it. I rewound the video and tried again. I could not do it. I rewound the video again….finally after doing this several times, pjdaddy exclaimed, “For the love of God! Give me those needles and I’ll show you the stupid stitch!”

I gave up on the idea of making anything from “Vogue Knitting” and went about my life.


The adult learning center flier said it had crochet classes. I sooo signed up.  I didn’t really know much about crochet, but it had to be similar to knitting, right? I mean they both use yarn and a needle, or two, but this time I’d have a real teacher.

Oh man, this is gonna be great. I’m going to be able to crochet myself some blankets for those long winter nights in north Florida when the avg temperature gets down to like, 44 degrees or something. brrrrrr!

I got my yarn, I got my needles and I fantasized about all the things I was going to make once I learn how to do this stuff. Hurry up first day of class!

First day of class: I walked into the classroom and was horrified. I knew I’d walked into Grandma Hell, when I saw they were all drooling over a crochet magazine that had this: 



Doesn’t matter. Apparently I’m incapable of crocheting. I am not even good enough to make that non-drug induced crocheted straight out of the trailer park flashback .

I can’t do a double stitch. Teacher said it’s because I talk too much. This could be true.  I’ll just have to bring the instructions home and have pjdaddy show me how it’s done.

Seriously though, not a fan of crochet. Knitting- Pretty. Crocheting- Not pretty.

Since I paid for this class, I will finish…….um, and I suppose  I’ll admit it’s still a break from the kids, so, I will not give up! I will learn this thing called crochet and make each and every one of you the following for Christmas.


What? You know you want it.

gift giving is an art form

When my sis (PJM) gives a gift, a laugh is usually followed. Over the years I’ve acquired, His and Hers pillow cases courtesy of Ebay (she was outbid on the Clay Aiken pillow case – I’m not kidding), and a box of crap found around her house (I think PJM emptied her entire junk drawer and mailed it’s contents to me).

One of my favorites will always be my Anna doll….

While getting the mail today I found this

Now that is another classic PJM gift!

Turtle Droppings

Yesterday I let my dog out to do his morning, um, well, the stuff he does in the morning. Sometimes he takes a while. I think he has a copy of US Weekly stashed out there somewhere. Yesterday was no different, except he was barking and barking and barking. I sent Madeleine out there to see what was going on. Good job mom, send the kid out, not knowing if there was a rabid possum or something.

Madeleine ran back in the house saying, “Mom, it’s a turtle! It’s a turtle! Let’s get Graham!” Graham is our resident herpetologist. I had to look that word up because I almost wrote hepatologist. Course I do like my beer, maybe he should study that.

Anyhoo, Graham and I went out there to get Frodo away from the turtle. Let my geekness shine thru! I admit it,  I named my dog Frodo. This turtle was a biggin’. I kid you not, that puppy’s turtle’s shell was about 8 inches across. Graham said it was a box turtle. He also said it was laying eggs. About 24 of them. That might have been an exaggeration.

Of course I’m doubting it and tell Graham it’s prolly pooping.


Then I feel bad for the turtle because she was just trying to lay some eggs and this big ‘ole dog was barking at her. Sadly I didn’t have my head together in time to take a picture of the actual turtle, but I did get some really cool egg photos.

I’m wondering what I should do about it and a friend of mine tells me that I should call animal control because turtles are protected and I could get in trouble if I don’t keep them safe.

Oh man, this is going to be awful. I picture men in HAZMAT suits coming in and cordoning off a section of my backyard. The kids can’t play out there, I can’t let the dog out for his morning stuff. This is going to be awful. I have no idea why I pictured men in HAZMAT suits. You’d think I’d picture white girls with long dreadlocks, peasant skirts and smelling like patchouli oil floating in to take care of them,  but no, I pictured, “the man”.

I toy with the idea of just hoping they’ll hatch on their own and it becoming a really cool science project for the kids, but guilt weighs in on me. What if they die? How are they going to find their way back to the little creek in my backyard?

So I call animal control waiting for them to bring in, “The Team”. The lady says, “I dunno, here’s the Fish and Wildlife’s number, call them.”

My heart’s pounding. Fish and Wildlife, it’s all over. I’ll have newscameras at my house. I haven’t lost all my weight yet, the camera adds 10 lbs., my hair, it’s awful. At least I got a pedicure, but frick, I’m really going to have to clean the house. Maybe I can have the reporters go through the back gate. They really don’t need to be in my house at all. Oh man,  I will have no peace at my home until these babies hatch. The DFW’s response?


“I don’t know what you do with them. What kind of turtle is it?”

A box turtle.

“Well maybe you can put some kind of cover over them to keep them safe? It’s not a Gopher Tortoise, right? Those are the ones that are protected.”


“Yeah, then I don’t know what you do. Try to keep them safe till they hatch.”

Um, thanks?

Well we definitely had to put some kind of cover over them because Frodo desperately wanted some eggs for breakfast.

Please mom, can’t I have turtle soup?

I waited for pjdaddy to get home to devise some sort of cover for the turtles.

You know you’re a redneck if………….

Here’s the little eggies this morning after a good rain.

I can see about 6 eggs in there.

It will be fun to see what happens. If anybody has an opinion or knows I’m caring for them wrong, you’re quite welcome to tell me.

When Did You Stop Letting Your Kid See You Naked?

Obviously my 10 year old doesn’t see me nekkid anymore. He can’t hardly stand to see me in my swimsuit. Thing is, I can’t remember when I stopped letting him see me naked. I’m not sure it was ever a conscious decision, it just evolved. He saw my chest for the longest time because I nursed 3 other kids (couldn’t nurse #4 longer than a couple months, but then only as night because I had to supplement for him in the daytime because I didn’t have milk for him, but that’s a whole nother story) after him, but there was a certain point where even that made him uncomfortable, so I made a point to cover up. Which in a way is odd because I’ve always made sure my nursing was such a natural thing at home.

Today I was changing into my swim-suit top, I’d already had my bottoms on and my 4 year old son walked in. I didn’t rush to cover up because he’d never really paid much attention before. I mean he’d say, “You’re naked! hahaha!” or, “You have nipples!” or “You have a biiiiiiiiig butt”, but today everything was different.

He looked  at me and said, “I like to see you naked.” I asked him why and he said, “because you’re a lady and it’s pretty.”


That’s when the ick factor set in strong for me. I decided he will never see my nekkidness again. Especially with the smile he had on his face. My daughter who is 6 still believes she should be able to see me naked because she’s a girl. But even the way she examines makes me decidedly uncomfortable.

I remember checking out my mom’s crunch berries and fur as a kid out of complete and total curiosity and I can’t remember whether she was uncomfortable or not. Maybe seeing mom naked stopped when I decided to start pointing out what I perceived as flaws, but now, after having 4 kids as well and even now not looking good as her, there’s no way in hell I’d call them flaws. I RETRACT! I RETRACT!

I guess I’ve just decided I’ve had enough with everyone but the 2 year old checking out my goods. He just pokes my butt and says, “naked”, but it’s harmless and cute when he does it. Well, I think anyways.

How bout you? At what age did you stop letting your kid(s) see you nude? If you’re of a different culture than standard American, what’s the social norm for you? If you don’t have kids, what’s your parental nudity nightmare memory?

How To Traumatize A Four Year Old

I’m going to hell. Do Not Pass Go. Do Not Collect $200. That’s all there is to it, I am going straight to hell.  Never, ever, ever, ever, ever watch a youtube video around your kids w/out having viewed it first. Did I mention, never ever? I know this. I can’t believe I did it anyways, it just looked so harmless. We were watching, “Charlie the Unicorn” which they love, and the bad video we watched was from the same guy.

I’m the type of mom who doesn’t even watch the evening news if my children are around. When I was a kid, it was the world news at 6 o’clock anchored by Dan Rather followed by the local news at 6:30. Who would have thought watching the news would be so terrifying?  I remember laying in my bed at night unable to sleep as my imagination took over and the news of the day haunted me. I was certain I was going to be kidnapped (yep, the Adam Walsh story did that to me), or that an airplane was going to crash into my house and wipe out my entire neighborhood.  Course back then I prolly didn’t care about the neighbors, I was just worried about my own demise. Screw the neighbors.

What was I talking about? Oh yeah, the years of therapy Garren is going to require now because we watched this stupid video. Granted I turned it off when I realized what was going on, but it was too late. The damage had been done. I’ve tried to convince him that……….well, I’ll just let you watch the video. Just remember, he’s at the age where he’s unable to distinguish between a cartoon and real people. I’m still going to marry Speed Racer.

Why Can’t Pretty Girls Smile?

So I went to the zoo today for my daughter’s field trip. I parked and found my daughter in line and decided to observe her unnoticed. What I saw was the sweetest thing. It made my heart melt.

My 6 year old girl was standing forehead touching forehead with a little boy and they were making each other laugh and laugh. They adored each other.

Madeleine’s teacher came up to me and said, “that’s Wesley, that’s Madeleine’s boyfriend.” I said, it is? The teacher said, “well Wesley’s mom says she is, but that Madeleine doesn’t know she’s his girlfriend”. I told the teacher,  I wasn’t sure about that because I thought she liked Maxwell. The teacher said, “oh everybody likes Maxwell”.

Madeleine finally saw me and I went over to her. When Wesley found out who I was, he said to me a sentence I hope I’ll never forget. He looked me in the eyes and said so sweetly and so proudly of his girl, “Madeleine sure is a great joke teller”.

YES! YES! Oh that’s the greatest thing. Please, please Madeleine when you grow up, marry the boy that makes you laugh. The one that makes you happy. The one that makes your heart beat just a little bit faster when you find out he’s on his way home. I couldn’t ask for anything more for my girl. Don’t go for the boy that everyone wants, just because he’s pretty. Go for the one that brings you joy. Marry your friend. If he’s considered a “dork” by society’s standards, who cares sweetheart? Who cares?

I can think of few things more calming to the soul than laughter. Of course, as an over-thinker this got me going. I was at the zoo looking at all the pretty women there and every single one of them had something in common. They couldn’t smile. None of  them. The M.I.L.F’s, the 20 something’s that will grow up to be M.I.L.F’s and the teenagers all had the same pouty, miserable expression.

When did pouty become beautiful? The look of “yeah, I’m hot and you can’t have me” was so prevalent among them. Bleh. I actually feel sorry for them because they must not know the pleasure of laughing so hard your stomach aches. Of just……….guffawing.

What happened in our world that made our idea of beauty go from the happy pin-up girl to the stern angular faced models we have today?

Ah, nevermind. Doesn’t matter to me. I’m content here laughing my ass off.

smile damnit!