Bambi, this is why your mamma done died......

Deer are stupid. I've yet to see a smart one. They're like giant 500 pound moths drawn to my headlights.

I was on my way in to work this morning, at 5:30 am, cruising along the country roads, going about 50, when I saw in the ditch, a buck grazing.

So I slowed down considerably, but he seemed to not notice me, until, of course, I was right up on him, and then suddenly he headed to the road.

So I slam on the brakes, steer to the other side of the road and brace for impact. I also screamed "Oh SHIT!" but fortunately, I did not actually DO that.

The ABS kicked in and I found myself at a stop, nearly touching Bambi's imbecile cousin.....Dumbi?

He looked at me, I looked at him. His big dark eyes were staring into my headlights, glazed by some secret voice that calls only to deer that truly, madly, deeply want to commit suicide.

Then he blinked, and slowly walked back to the ditch and continued his grazing.

Dear Central Ohio Hunters: Please hunt down and kill this stupid sonofabitch. No one deserves to have their day started like this. He's a menace to the gene pool and needs to be eliminated, post haste. He had a nice rack on him, he's ready to be steaks. Thanks so much!

This begins the second week of no solid foods. I'm having a hard time of it now that I have to serve food to the kids. Today, I sucked the juice out of polish sausages, and took one of Buddy's chicken nuggets, chewed it up into a fine past then spit it out. This sucks! And making Thanksgiving dinner, when I can't eat any of it (except maybe drink the gravy) is cruel at best.

I understand the reasoning behind the full liquid diet, but give me an appetite suppressant, or dope me up or something. I'm not in a good mood when I'm STARVING, and I'm STARVING right now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Friday Doldrums......

With all this blessed time on my hands, I'm like an Israelite wandering in the desert. I have "things" I should do, but not some huge pressing list of things I HAVE TO DO RIGHT NOW.

I guess when I'm under stress, I get stuff done, but when left in quiet solitude, I just sit here. And surf the interweb.

So I've not cheated at all on my pre-op liquid diet. This is good, because there is a half a pan of lasagna in the fridge from Saturday. Now that Bug has decided (after I cooked it) that she no longer likes lasagna, it sits there. I've not eaten any of it.

Instead, I use the Quisinart and pulverize Campbell's soups. The taste is okay, but it is horrible to look at.

It seems that Buddy is my muse. With him not here, I've got nothing to blog about. It is so quiet and lonely.

In 10 days I'm having having the first stage of a Duodenal Switch done, it is called a Vertical Sleeve Gastrectomy. Roughly 80 to 90% of your stomach is removed. This restricts your eating, for sure, and also removed the majority of ghrelin production, which is the hormone that stimulates hunger. I've been hanging out on some message boards and finding that people are losing 80- 90% of their excess body weight within the first year. I'm liking those odds.

Things I'd like to do when I'm at a more healthy weight:

Swing on the swings with my kids, on our swingset.
Go for walks and not get winded.
Feel more confident to go out to gatherings and to places with my family and friends.
Be a better wife, because I will like myself so much more.
Feel attractive again.
Shop at Victoria's Secret (this may be a long way off)

There, that is my wish list. We'll see how I do. I got one of those weight ticker things for my signature on a forum I post to. I entered my high weight and my current weight, and discovered that I have lost 39 pounds since June! WOW, what a great headstart.

So there, the most boring blog post of the year. Since it's mid morning, I guess I'll go grind up some soup and then take a shower.

So it is Wednesday night....

Buddy and Super G went back to the Nebraska for Orpha's funeral. I'm here....alone....with Bug.

Monday night went like this:

Me: "So, whaddya wanna do?"

Bug: "Umm, I dunno, whadda YOU wanna do?"

Me: "Uh, I dunno."

and on and on and on.

Then, last night, I put her in the tub and let her play until she was cold. She came wandering into my room, dripping, as I was folding clothes and watching Law & Order: Criminal Intent reruns on USA.

She was getting into it, so I'm explaining that this chick got this guy to kill some cops and some bad guys, and they stole the bad guys' money and now the cops and the bad guys want to get them.

Then I realized that perhaps this was a bit too mature for her.

Too late, because her little eyes had settled upon a slender Vincent D'Onofrio. And thus, my daughter has her own, personal, Paul Sorvino. When it was over, she walked to her room, turned to me and said, "if a show like that comes on again, let me know, okay?"

Yeah, I'll be right on that.

Today, the UPS guy made a delivery to our home. Jessi, the Australian Shepherd, HATES the UPS truck. She knows the sound of the engine and will start barking before it is even on the block.

So I waited until it was at the corner, then opened the door to get my box. She shot out the door, knocking me to the ground and chased the truck down the street and around the block! And not only that, she was biting at the tires! WTF? She can't take on something more her size, like the mail truck. It has to be the biggest thing to come rolling into the neighborhood. Anyway, the foster basset, Banjo, took off too. So I went and got my shoes on and the leash, went walking in their general direction, calling their names sweetly, and making threats under my breath.

The power of the leash never ceases to amaze me. Here Banjo is, all free to run and sniff out a whole new world of sniffs (he hadn't yet discovered the gibbon sanctuary across the street), then I hold up the leash and say "wanna go for a walk?" He comes running, with this goofy, happy look on his face. Why won't my children do the same thing? Not fair at all.

Explaining Death to a Six year old

So Super G broke the news to Bug that Grandma Orpha had died.

Bug: She's died?

SG: Yes, last night.

Bug: You mean somebody shot her and she's dead?


ummmmm no, not quite like that.

Goodbye to a matriarch

The first time I met SuperG's grandma, Orpha, I was so terrified. From what I had heard, she was a woman who commanded respect, who was quiet and gentle, but she was the matriarch of this clan that I had come to know and love.

I walked into her tidy duplex, and felt the pang of nostalgia. Everything was neat, every item placed Just So, and most everything was just as it was in 1977, still in mint condition.

We exchanged pleasantries, I felt a bit awkward, almost like meeting the Queen Mum, I wondered if I should bow.

Then she looked at me, square in the eye.

"What church to you attend?"

I smiled politely and said "Oh, I'm a Lutheran."

She inhaled deeply, sitting up stiff straight, folded her hands and looked away.

"Oh, We don't speak to Lutherans"

I froze in terror, what had I done? Should I have lied and professed my undying devotion to the Presbyterians?

Then I saw this every so slight, wry smile on her lips. She had pulled one over one me, and I passed with flying colors.

Even though I ended up bringing her grandson into the Lutheran collective, I think she still liked me.

On November 10, 2007, just 3 weeks after her 100th birthday, Orpha passed away. Perhaps it was a tribute, but the Huskers finally won a game, and won big, on the same day.

Rest in Peace, great-grandmother, grandmother, mother, wife and friend. For what it is worth, I believe they do let Presbyterians into Heaven ;-)

Buddy and the Enchanted Hose

Men and their penises. Why, oh WHY did God give them their own toys to take with them wherever they go?

Women do not play with their breasts just to have something to do with their hands. What it is about guys?

Buddy prefers to be naked. I encourage clothing choices, he prefers clothing optional. During one of his au naturel moments, he wanders into my office.

"Hey mommy! Check this out, see what I can do!"

He grabs his penis. Then he pulled the skin over the tip and pinched "First you cover it up, and then you push it in"

And with that HE PUSHED THE ENTIRE THING INTO HIS BODY!!!!!!

"And then you let go and *pop* it jumps back out!" He giggles like a maniac, and proceeds to do this horrible thing three or four more times.

Now, I can handle poop, pee, blood and major surgery. I cannot handle this.

WWWWHHHYYYYYYYY would anyone want to do this? What is the thrill? What is the purpose?

Then today, he tells me how he's going to eat and eat and eat and eat until his butt is "this big" (arms stretched out wide)

Why are you going to do that,my son?

He smiles at me, "because then I can poooooooooop a big pooooooop," his hands come together in front of his chest, as if he's cradling a glass ball " and then it will get small and I'll have the perfect butt, right there"

The perfect butt with the Enchanted disappearing hose. The kid is destined for Disney.

Detrius from the Demented

So, it has been a while. I've been a little busy....

Okay, very busy. Halloween came and went. The candy is all gone, but the costumes are still in a heap on the living room end table. Super G was kind enough to gather the accessories and put them in a bag on top of the costume heap on the living room end table.

I feel that February will be a good time to hang them up.








See this box of tampons? Isn't it cool? Don't you love the ever-so-subtle symbolism in the RED flower? Doesn't it make you just feel FRESH and FEMININE buying a box of wadded cotton pellets because there is a RED poppy on the front? Do you think that perhaps they chose a RED poppy because, really, all women who are menstrual not only need the wadded cotton pellets, but also the heroin that is made from those poppies?

Perhaps the good people at Kotex didn't have any of this in mind. Instead they put that RED poppy on the box to attract my son. This is at least the third time in his life where we've gotten into an all out melt down over the fact that:

• We do NOT need to put that box in the cart.
• We don't USE that brand, or any tampons at all.
• HE will never have use for them, ever.
• The box does not have flowers in it.

So anyway, I now have a big beef with two corporations, Kotex, for putting that stupid RED flower on a box of plugs, and WalMart for putting the crotch products right next to the Cat Food. What, pray tell, was their message in THAT particular product display?

Brutus, the foster basset, went to his forever home on Sunday 11/4. That was hard, I stayed home and worked, SuperG took the kids and delivered him. He was a sweetie, not too quick on the uptake, but a real good lug.

The puppy we took in 10 days ago immediately lost herself, forgot all she learned and terrorized our family with chewing, yipping and whining. So we brought another dog in for her to play with. He's been here 12 hours now and I like him. He's very low key and sedate, has a weird face, not all long and bassety, short ears for his kind.

My house is a mess. Tomorrow (Thursday) I go to Bowling Green for my final appointment before the next surgery on 11/26. I'm nervous and scared, but looking forward to the trip.... 3 hours up and back, in the car, all by myself. So I'll be cleaning like crazy today (or not)

And to that end, must go give the kids breakfast and get the girl ready for school.