My letter to AEP, as requested by some tree hugger

I posted this to Facebook in June, but then realized that not all the people I know are on Facebook, so to share with the world.....taaadaaaa!!!!!

My door was open, so she didn't see the "go away" sign. This little girl asking me to join her cause of getting AEP to clean up it's coal fired plant somewhere in Ohio. blah blah blah. I signed it. Then she asked me to write a letter to the CEO of AEP on their behalf, have it taped to my door at 8pm tonight. HA! like I have time for this crap. So I wrote a letter, which I will re-type here (it was handwritten)) as I'm sure it won't get to the CEO....

Dear Michael Morris, Chairman and CEO, AEP

Today was a humid and miserable day. My house was full of hot and miserable children, whining over who got to play the Wii next. Except for the two year old, who was just whining. I had my front door open, waiting for the parents of three of those kids to show up. Because of this, my "NO SOLICITING, SOYLENT GREEN FACTORY" sign was not visible.

The most adorable, bright-eyed, true-believer named Claudia appeared on my doorstep. I just could not crush her spirit as she was out in this oppressive heat and she was so passionate about her cause. I listened as she told me about how AEP has until 2015 to clean up or replace the Muskingum River Power Plant. I don't know if she is from that area, but her care for the people and environment in that area was worn on her fresh and enthusiastic face.

I'm from Nebraska, however, and couldn't really give a cow's booty about the Muskingum Power Plant. I don't even know where that is. She asked me to write you a letter. I'm a busy person. I don't even have time to pee by myself without doing 5000 other things. In fact, I'm using time set aside to go buy a new bra just to write this letter to you. I really need a new bra, but the thought of crushing Claudia's spirit took precedence over my breasts, which are a lost cause anyway.

So, here it goes: Please do what is required of you in the 2007 lawsuit settlement. Procrastination is an ugly habit to get into. Take my advice, get workin' on this now. Let the environmentalist whackos know what you are doing along the way so sweet girls like Claudia can stop walking the streets and get out into the corporate world, where her spirit can be properly crushed.

As far as what to replace coal with, I really don't know. Nuclear, biofuel, millions of hamsters on millions of wheels, it makes no difference to me as long as my house can stay meat-locker cold in the summer, I'm happy. I would avoid wind power, besides all the birds that die in high speed propeller collisions, what happens when the wind stops blowing? I've seen it happen as I drove across Iowa, so I have to wonder about that.

I hope this letter finds you doing what you were court ordered to do. Now I'm going to start working my second job. I hope you appreciate the sacrifice my tatas made for you tonight.

Amy Rapp

I doubt she will pass that letter along, but hey, I wrote one for her!

I was not meant to be a single mother

Foster 4 basset hounds? Sure no problem! Babysit 7 kids 5 days a week? Sure, I'm cool with that! Add 15-20 hours of data entry work on top of all that, plus cook full breakfasts, lunches and dinners? Keep all the overflowing clutter in the corners and the floors hair and food free? Sure! I can even get the laundry done (but not folded or put away) I can do all of this, every day for months. But take care of my own three kids while my husband is out of town for 5 days?

I fail.

Right now I have about 36 hours until he comes home. Could be a year for all I know. Baby Eebo has been up for 2.5 hours already, is sitting in his high chair, with a pair of salad tongs, eating warmed over fries and chicken chunks, the breakfast of champions. The other two are asleep. There is not a single square inch of floorspace visible between the toys, dog hair and the cheerios that Buddy spilled some days ago. The dog doesn't like cheerios. But I had a crapload of work to do...... and by the end of the day, the baby was still going strong, so I neglected the house and tried to just stay alive.

Now I have two hours before his Early Intervention teacher will be here. No shower for me today, thank God I got one in yesterday. I suppose I should get after it.

How do single moms with toddlers do it? I can handle Bug and Buddy, they are easy, but Eebo....holy crap that kid is busy.

Now the hound dog is barking, . I'll start in the kitchen and work my way out.

And remember to brush my teeth, today.

tip toe back to the blog

Slowly, slowly, but surely, I'm tiptoeing back to the blog. I've been in a creative rut for the past, oh..year or so. But as my muse matured and left me with fewer moments of incredulity, the little one has entered into the muse arena.

I speak of Little Eebo, 21 months of destructive fury. A walking, babbling reminder of just how hard it is to be an old lady mom.

Today we did not have to take Blondie (the little girl I babysit) to school, so after we put Buddy on the bus, Eebo and I headed to the store. He drifted off to sleep just as we arrived at Wal-Mart.

Normally I hate Wal-Mart, but today we were there before 9am, and it was devoid of customers. Nice wide bright aisles, all the products are fully stocked, the produce guy found me the best looking bananas, steered me clear of the "old" grapes and ran to the bakery to get a cookie for Eebo. I had workers putting heavy things in my cart for me, getting things off shelves for me, it was like being Princess of Wal-Mart!

Sadly, Eebo ate the cookie quickly, and because he had been awakened from a dreamland so abruptly, he was cranky. I had to keep him busy, so I handed him a baggie full of Cheez-Its. Eebo loves Cheez-its, he could eat his weight in them every day if I let him. Today was different.

Perhaps I should have known something was up, because he didn't try to climb out of the cart a billion times. he didn't squeeze the bread into unidentifiable gluten balls, or throw the eggs out of the cart.

Alas, I was so intent on getting my shopping done while he was being docile, I didn't notice until it was too late what was keeping him docile.

We worked our way to the back of the store, and as I retraced my path to get something i had forgotten I stepped on what I discovered was a Cheez-It. Then another, and another. Finally I looked around, it seems Eebo left a Hansel and Gretel trail of Cheez-Its throughout the store.

I confiscated the bag to the loud protestations of one angry toddler and headed to the checkouts, avoiding eye contact with the people who were dispatched to clean up the Cheez-It trail.

We checked out quickly and without incident. But, not to be squelched, as I was putting my wallet back in the diaper bag, Eebo snatched the Cheez-It bag and in one giant Blaze of Glory he dumped the entire bag onto the floor in one giant orange pile.

We quickly exited the store. This was a mild little episode, but I know, this is just the beginning......

the reluctant roller

a not- great video of Ian escaping tummy time and then getting irritated when I roll him back into it, showing him at a young age that I am the meanest mom in the world.

Go Eebo, Go!

A friend sold me his jumperoo, has a few missing toys, but as you can see, he doesn't care. His first outing lasted 103 of nearly nonstop jumping. He didn't want to get out of it. When he does become a movin' baby, we are in for a world of hurt!

H1N1 Blues and Viking threats

Isn't he just the cutest thing ever? Yeah, that was last week. Then we found out that we had H1N1....the dreaded flu. Bug is the only confirmed case in the family, the rest of us were diseased by association.

He had a little cough for a few days, felt a little warm, but was breathing fine and eating like normal, no worries. Then Saturday came....why is it always a weekend?

He was crabby, he didn't smile, his little head bobbed when he was breathing. He didn't want his pacifier, he only wanted me. All day long. The only thing was I came down with it Friday night so I was dying all day too. With a little remora stuck to my chest. We called the clinic, and they put him back on the oxygen. This seemed to help him be more comfortable. And so did the ibuprofen, although that did nothing for his fever.

Finally he settled down and went to sleep. then at 11:30 he woke up with a croupy cough. Steam...freeze...sleep....steam...freeze....sleep all night long.

He stayed on oxygen on Sunday, I took him to see the pediatrician on call (not wanting to go to Children's...the ER is a cesspool of germs) she wrote us a script for prednisone to help with the inflammation around his larynx which caused the stridor, that he still had a bit, even though the cough disappeared at sunup (I swear that croup is the pre-cursor to vampirism.......)

Last night he slept much better, and at 6:30am was up and ready for the day!!!!

I was not.

Super G has not fallen ill as of yet. I cannot believe it, he either has very good luck, or a cast iron constitution. Either way, he better watch out. I was holding/nursing/praying Eebo into a nap today, watching a show about the Middle Ages and Charlemange. Of course he beat back the Moors with no problem etc etc, but who gave him the hardest time? The Vikings!

Discussing how mean and nasty the Vikings were, they took a traitorous man, tied him to a table, broke open his rib cage and splayed out his lungs like wings.....all while he was alive. Be warned Super G, these are my people. Be afraid, be very afraid.....

(okay so those were Danish Vikings, I'm sure the Swedish ones just killed everyone with their lutefisk or something. whatever, the point is that he may have escaped this illness, but he can't keep skating by forever!)

Little Eebo is waking up, must return to my role as a remora host.

Ian, the Kickin' Chicken

He's a kickin' machine!

Ian's Gymini workout video

Ian being super happy in his Gymini.

Dear Long Neglected Blog

I feel like a teenager who has forgotten her dear diary, after swearing to divulge her innermost secrets to it's secured and forgiving pages.

I suffer through bouts of insomnia, and what I should do is hop onto ye olde blogger and scoop the thoughts out of my head. But instead I spend my time on Facebook. I never should have joined, it sucks the time right out of your hands.

Things are going fairly well here. Tomorrow Ian goes to his BPD (BronchoPulmonaryDisplasia) clinic, and they will determine if he can be taken off the oxygen at that time. So naturally this weekend he had to come down with croup. With some loud stridor, which scared me more than the coupy cough. Saturday was a long night, I alternately steamed him and froze him, and he was able to clear up for a few hours to get some sleep. I, on the other hand, was on high alert, and slept very little.

The thing about croup is that it has a small virus attitude. It's little, it's annoying and fairly harmless. It gets no respect when up up against the big guns, like Strep Throat, Viral Meningitis or the new kid on the block, H1N1. So it makes up for it's small stature in other ways. It is loud, very loud. It scares the crap outta first time parents. And it only strikes at night, disappearing at first light. So it's either a real party animal among viruses, or it's also a vampire, I haven't figured that one out yet.

Sunday night had only about 4 minutes of coughing that didn't even wake up the baby, but intermittent stridor episodes that kept me wide awake.

We saw the pediatrician today, who could hear the stridor with his stethescope, and knowing that tomorrow could be our oxygen free day, he gave Ian a shot of steroids to help reduce the inflammation and clear up the stridor.

Fingers crossed, I hope and pray that tomorrow is the last corner that Ian has to turn......

Ian in the Hoopty

Funniest Laugh in the world

Oh man, this guy's laugh is just incredible!! Beats the old grandma and the machine gun hands down!!!!

Ian's smiling dream

he's just so cute! Ian at 7 weeks of age, still 7 weeks premature, smiling in his sleep.

Ian gets mad as a hornet.

Ian hates getting his nose suctioned, we have captured his reaction here, to show you why they call him The Little Hornet. Some might want to cry, or be upset by seeing a baby cry like this, but in the NICU, the world is turned on it's ear, and a baby who fights and cries is a baby that nurses are happy to see. The ones who lay there and don't respond are the ones that break your heart.

Itty Bitty Baby Arrives 14 weeks early!!!

Everything about this kid has been a surprise. Yep, I had me a baby boy on March 25, 2009. He just had to have a March birthday like his sister and brother.

You can find out all about the birth and his progress at

www.caringbridge.org/visit/ianrapp

Thanks!!

Old woman shoots MP40 Machine gun

I want to be this kind of grandma when i grow up..... it's something to aspire to.....

Rhinos 4 RINOs

For the uninformed, a RINO is a Republican in Name Only.

There are three RINOs in particular that I think need to be sent a message:

Arlen Specter (R-PA)
United States Senate
711 Hart Senate Office Building
Washington, D.C. 20510-3802

Olympia Snowe (R-ME)
United States Senate
154 Russell Senate Office Building
Washington, DC 20510

Susan Collins (R-ME)
United States Senate
413 Dirksen Senate Office Building
Washington, D.C. 20510-1904

I propose that these so-called Republicans receive a fair and proper representation of what they really are. Therefore, I ask that all of you who feel that we, and our children and our grandchildren, have been betrayed and sold out by their "yea" votes on the Stimulus, ahem, Spendulus package, please consider purchasing a rhinoceros and mailing it to them at the above address.

Now, if you're a big game hunter, by all means, have at it. But, honestly, that would bring down the blood reign from PETA and other like minded animal rights activists, due to the whole Endangered Species thing that the rhino has going on.

I suggest going online and buying a small plastic rhino, such as I found here:

Plastic Animals ~
Tapir and Friends Wildlife World

And send one to each of those turncoats. Or maybe buy in bulk, nothing says "you done stepped in it this time" like a gross of rhinos in a pretty box.

There was more pork in that spending bill than in all of the Hormel plants in America. It's ridiculous, wrong and completely irresponsible. As I sat home on Friday night, watching the horror unfold, I realized that this pregnancy has stolen my waistline, the kids have stolen my chocolate and now Congress has stolen my money. The waistline will reappear, the chocolate can be replaced, and hidden better, but the money, I'll never get that back. Now I'm pissed.

So lets make the RINOs an endangered species, until we can vote 'em out, lets show just how much they've pissed us off!

Let the stampede begin!

hello, poor neglected blog.....

I'm sorry to say, I've found a new mistress, in the form of Twitter.com.

I'm Bugnbuddysmom on twitter. I don't tweet much, that is SuperG's time sink. But I did get tweeted by Ohio's former Secretary of State Ken Blackwell who is now running to be the RNC chairman. Woot! Brush with greatness, ping!

At any rate, I'd like to introduce you to our newest addition:




Say "Hi" to Blobby, who has grown so much since the initial ultrasound told me I had a blob with a heartbeat lo these many weeks ago.

I'm almost 13 weeks along, am starting to feel a bit better, I go whole days without puking now, which is great. I crave Thai food all the time, but haven't been able to get any lately.

We are almost ready for Christmas, I feel so blessed that this year we are able to give our children gifts and food for the table, when so many people, including those that I know, are feeling the economic pinch and having to choose between the two.

I'm sure I won't get online to post again, so have a merry Christmas and count your blessings this year, we certainly are!

The AutoMaker Bailout

hmmmmm I just don't know where I stand on this.

Having worked for a subsidiary of one of the Big Three, Ford Credit, in the 90's, I saw first hand the waste, and the largess that a powerful union has on a company. I didn't pay anything for my monthly benefits, actually got some money back. Had 5 weeks paid vacation each year, 3 weeks of 100% paid sick days. I had a $550 yearly out of pocket maximum on my medical insurance, which was the type where you could go anywhere, to any Dr without any referrals or participating providers, anything.

I paid $5 each month for fertility drug prescriptions that ran $5000 to $7000 for those who had to pay out of pocket for them.

No wonder Fords were so expensive to buy. Oh wait, no they weren't, not for me and the majority of my family members.

And we wonder now why they're going broke. Or they've gone broke. When the union strangles your company and requires that you give that kind of a benefit package to your NON-UNION employees, it just can't be sustained forever. The rumors of the wages for the autoworkers were probably inflated, but not by much.

So, on one hand, maybe Detroit needs to tough it out and if one or two or three of them go belly up, so be it.

But on the other hand, I've got two aging yet paid for GM vehicles in my driveway. I fear the scarcity of parts will force us to one day buy a Honda, which is made about 30 miles away from my home. Hmmm, would I still be buying American at that point?

Sick as the dogs I've nearly killed

Them dawgs and their food theivin' ways is gonna git 'em kilt but good.

Twice in as many days the dogs have been literally throttled by me. I just see red and then I'm off the hook. The hormones suck.

Been so absolutely dead tired and sick lately, today I stayed in bed until nearly 4pm. My son was sweet enough to hang out with me and force me to endure hours of the darkest days of animation in the 20th century.

Yes, my friends, I am talking about the Chuck Jones era. Due to my son's current obsession with Tom and Jerry, I am subjected to this abomination almost daily. I don't know who this talentless hack thought he was, but he could have just committed this thoughtless acts of terrorism on a smaller scale, like poisoning a municipal water supply, or killing all the infant boys in the land, you know, something that we could easily get over. But no, he puts out the crappy animation for a generation to endure. He's probably dead by now, but if not, he should kick off soon, in a most painful way.

Think I'll go steal candy from orphans and kick some old ladies. Then scuttle back to bed.

How does that nutjob in Arkansas survive all those pregnancies? She's got to have some brain stem missing or something, 17 kids and counting, what a nutjob. But perhaps since she's been lactating and/or gestating for 25 years or so, the hormonal flux must pretty much not happen anymore. Freak.

And the hormones kick in

Can I just say right now that I usually enjoy being pregnant. It's thrilling and exciting, especially after the baby starts to make itself known in nice ways, like kicks to the spleen and whatnot.

This time around, however, is different.

I'd have liked to regained my health to a greater degree. And gotten down to my goal weight, although I was close. But those weren't the cards I was dealt.

So far, the baby seems fine. We have an ultrasound on the 18th to go along with bloodwork I had drawn recently which will give us an idea if the baby is at risk for any genetic abnormalities. As if I didn't have enough to obsess over.

The baby has a fine heartbeat, arms and legs and all that jazz. It also is pumping out the hormones from hell. I'm mean as a snake most days now, anyone who irritates me may just end up getting a rather nasty earful of whut-fer.

Then there is the whole Passion of the Christ thing. Whenever I think about Judas betraying Jesus with a kiss, I get all verklempt. Well, that is putting it lightly. On Friday, driving to pick up DH for our date at the Larry the Cable Guy show, I heard U2's "Pride" and when they got to the part "one man betrayed with a kiss" I broke down in hysterical sobs, so intense that I had to pull off the road. When I started crying as I related this to my loving partner, he laughed at me.

I sincerely hope that I can overcome this emotional overload before Easter gets here.

The Christmas cards have started rolling in. Many of them include the standard shlocky Christmas letter telling how wonderful their lives are, how wonderful their kids are, and how much they love their wonderful, super acheiving perfect children and spouses and oh everything is just so great that when you're done reading the letter butterflies will come flocking out of your ass.

So, I feel it is my duty this year to send out a realistic and totally honest Christmas letter. First I'm going to try to put the kids to bed on time, to get me in the proper mood. And then I'm going to make an outline, but not actually write the letter until after I have one of my molars pulled tomorrow morning. Yup, I'll be in the perfect frame of mind to write a letter about the last year of our lives........