Guess who’s 22 today?!
Seriously. Do I look like the mother of a 22 year-old? I DIDN’T THINK SO.
The update on the spud for y’all: she’s happy, she’s undergoing training to be a manager at McDonald’s, and she has a boyfriend (though she has a cold at the moment, which is a sucky way to spend your birthday). At one point she was talking about starting college after Christmas, but I’m not sure if that’s still in the plans or not.
22. Good god. How is that POSSIBLE? This is how I still think of her:
And in case you ever wondered what I looked like on the morning I became a mother (sh’yeah, like you don’t sit around and wonder exactly that every moment of your life!), here you go:
I’d been admitted to the hospital (she was a c-section; I was 4 days past my due date and went to my gyn/ob. They did an ultrasound and guesstimated her weight to be 10 pounds, 6 ounces. The doctor recommended a c-section, and I went along with it. I had a strong feeling from the very beginning that I would end up having a c-section.) and this was probably my 4th trip back from the bathroom. Nice glasses, eh? THE BETTER TO SEE YOU WITH.
Happy birthday, Danielle! I love you! (You don’t look a day over 3, as far as I’m concerned.)
This is a shameless beg from a longtime lurker.
Please vote for the Greater Birmingham Humane Society!! GBHS has been in an ASPCA $100K challenge with 50 other shelters since August 1st. We have adopted over 825 animals in less than 3 months — but we are not going to win the money. Other shelters have rocked it more but there is no disappointed in our shelter. We are super excited about our progress with adoptions (825+ new homes!). Our community has been FANTASTIC! Please help us rally votes to celebrate! The ASPAC has $25K to award the shelter with the most votes for community outreach. Please visit:
This link will redirect you to the challenge page. You can vote once a day — but you can use multiple email addresses. We highly encourge that option. 🙂
Voting ends at midnight October 31st. Like all shelters, we need the money!!! It has been a great 3 months. We are exhausted but shameless in asking for votes. GBHS would really appreciate anyone that would help.
Only a few more days left and we are #5 and climbing. $25K is waiting for us at #1.
Yesterday I left the house to run errands. First I went to my doctor’s office. I’m almost out of Synthroid, and my doctor won’t give me another prescription unless I have my thyroid levels tested (well, she would if it was an emergency I guess, but it would only be for a month and I’d have to go in and have blood drawn before the month was up to get another prescription for it.). Until now, what I’ve been doing is going in and asking for a lab slip, they give me one, and then I go next door to the LabC0rp office to have my blood drawn. Only this time, when I asked for a lab slip, they told me that they’ve got their own lab now. She told me to sign in and have a seat, and I did so.
I pulled out my iPod and played a couple of games of Snood, then I thought “Huh. I wonder if they have wireless for their patients here?” and clicked over to check. The doctor’s office didn’t have wireless, but the dentist next door did, so I hopped on, checked my email, checked my Twitter and Facebook stuff, and then started playing another game of Snood. As I played, I happened to glance down at the front of my shirt, and I was instantly mortified.
I had a layer of white cat fur an inch thick on my left shoulder and going down my left sleeve.
You will likely find this difficult to believe, but I don’t ordinarily leave the house with much cat hair on me. I usually wear clothing that cat hair doesn’t stick to (t-shirts and sweatshirts, for the most part), but this shirt was apparently made of material more attractive to cat hair. I tried to casually brush the cat hair away, but it wouldn’t be brushed. Then I tried plucking the cat hair off my shirt, but that was pretty pointless, and so I gave up and decided that if I’m going to have SIXTEEN cats in my damn house (PLUS Starsky and Hutch) (though really it’s 15 plus S&H, because Coltrane doesn’t come in the house, which… damn. That’s still a lot of fucking cats. ARGH.) I might as well look the crazy cat lady part.
I spent about 15 minutes in the waiting room before they called me back to the lab, and another 30 seconds after that I was on my way.
I went to Kohl’s to return four pair of jeans that I bought the other day. I tell you what, I’m about to give up on this goddamn jean hunt. Last year I bought a bunch of jeans from Fashion Bug that fit me well. But apparently my body has readjusted itself, and now they look funny when I put them on. I have one single goddamn pair of Levi’s 550 jeans that fit okay, two pair of men’s Levi’s 550 jeans that fit okay enough to wear around the house*, and other than that I’m shit out of luck. I thought I found some jeans at Kohl’s last week, but when I got home and attempted to actually wear them, I realized that they weren’t just a “little” too long for me, they were WAY too long for me. So back they went.
I spent an hour and a half trying on a pair of every single kind of jeans at Kohl’s in size 8 and size 10 (depends on the brand as to which size I wear – I actually have a pair of capri jeans in size 6 that fit really well, which seems utterly ridiculous to me) and ended up with some that’ll work for now. The problem is twofold: 1. I have no waist at all. There’s no indentation at ALL between my chest and my hips, and I’m not even kidding. 2. My thighs are, well, there’s loose skin there. And I’m not willing to have surgery on them because the madness has to stop somewhere (still hoping for a boob lift early next year, if you’re wondering). Maybe I should invest in some Spanx and shut the fuck up about it. I keep telling Fred I’m going to just start wearing skirts, but ugh. I don’t wanna.
I stopped by the bank to deposit a couple of checks, went by TJ Maxx to browse (and didn’t buy a single thing, which must be a first for me), swung by Publix to pick up a few things, and got home just in time for lunch.
Today, I think I’m going to be spending the day boiling and deboning chickens so that I can can chicken tomorrow. Remember a few weeks ago when I said I’d discovered there were something like 30 chickens in the freezer out in the garage? Well, that week I boiled, deboned, and canned 12 of them (giving me 8 quarts and 7 pints of chicken). I STILL HAVE 18 CHICKENS LEFT.
And while I was in Myrtle Beach, Fred processed 7 more chickens, young roosters. At least THIS time when I put them in the freezer I wrote the date and “roasters” on the outside of the bag. I’m sure next time he processes chickens, though, I’ll fail to label them in any way.
*They’re size 34 waist, 30 inseam. The waist is too big for me, like A LOT too big for me, but size 32 waist? Can barely get it closed. What the fuck, I ask you?
Good news: Moxie was adopted over the weekend! Martin was adopted a few weeks ago (I think I told y’all that already), which means that Melodie and Dodger are left at Petsmart to wait for their forever homes. I hope they go together.
We got to see Moxie, Melodie and Dodger when we went to Petsmart to visit (and ended up bringing home) Buster and Rhyme. They’re doing well – they’ve grown so much in the few weeks they’ve been there, it’s amazing! I don’t know why I was surprised that they’ve grown since they’re still young and have some growing to do, but surprised I was.
Because we’re suckers for punishment, not only did we bring Buster and Rhyme home over the weekend, we also started allowing Starsky and Hutch the run of the house. It went pretty well, really – even when Buster was at his yowliest and smacked at Starsky and Hutch (he never made contact, just smacked in their general direction if they got in his space), all they did was fall over submissively, which seemed to satisfy his need to be the Mancat in Charge.
We’re beginning their training early, making them help with dishwasher duty.
Then Hutch wandered off and Starsky ran into the front room and shimmied up the scratching post like he’s part monkey.
When he got to the top, Reacher sniffed at him then smacked him on the head. Hutch hung there and thought about it for a moment, then shimmied back down and ran off in search of friendlier places.
They don’t get the run of the house all day – usually I put them back in their room for an hour or so mid-morning, and then again when I’m eating lunch (they’re pretty sure that my lunch should be their lunch, too). If I’m leaving the house for any length of time, I put them in their room, too – I don’t think the big cats would hurt them, but I certainly wouldn’t want to come home and find that one of the babies is missing an ear or something.
Reacher and Corbie, before the Busta Rhyme duo descended.
2009: Happy 21st birthday, Danielle!
2008: No entry.
2007: I hope that the days come easy and the moments pass slow, And each road leads you where you want to go
2006: My little girl.
2005: The spud is 17 today!
2004: I hope you dance.
2003: No entry.
2002: “You want to buy STUFF faster than we get rid of it!” he accused shrilly.
2001: Well, the little bastard is home again.
2000: No entry.
1999: Boring work-related shit.