Friday, February 24, 2006
First off, for those that have sent good wishes and asked, Ruby is doing great. No swelling, no breathing problems. We are keeping her on Benedryl until Friday, and she takes pills fine (well, rolled up in a ball of cheese, but still). In fact, she is even snoring a bit less LOL. If it happens again we should bring her for allergy testing. If it turns out she is allergic to dust and cat hair, we are screwed. Today is another "deadline" day. Yes, I know I should be working working, but this is my first break since before 8am. See how dedicated I am to you, my readers? No pee breaks (which I desperately need need about now), no coffee reheats, no stopping to kiss the dog. But I will take a break to write the blog! Dh is in a chatty mood today. Casting nasty glares at him and saying "I have a deadline" while my eye twitches menacingly is too subtle for him today. I started ignoring him completely, but that just made him talk louder, and TOUCH MY ARM to get my attention. I was ready to stab him with a chopstick if he did that again. See how fun I am? LOL! I was up late working, and this morning I looked pretty much like I felt. A used-up dishrag looks more alive than I did. I am not sure I am awake yet, actually. The only signs of life are furously moving typing fingers and a twitching eyelid. I want copious amounts of brewed coffee, but we only have a one-cup coffee pot and I don't think I could stand to hear it steam and spit. Instant coffee is not doing it today. And I don't want Tim Hortons....I want a latte from starbucks. But do I want to take a break to go there and pay 5.00 for a cup of coffee? Not really. Too cheap and too busy. We have a houseguest. My sister's poodle, TIA. No, not thanks in advance. Tia, which in some language somewhere means "I love you" I think. Her and Ruby have been spending the day taking turns going outside, peeing, asking to come back in, then wanting out again to check the NEWEST pee that the other one left. There may have been a poop or two in there too, I wasn't watching that closely. She is such a lovey, but she shakes. I don't know if she is cold or scared or just shakes because she gets attention. I have baby blankets down all over the house for her to bundle up in. I wish I could have gotten something in the photo for reference, she is tiny tiny tiny. DH says she weighs less than the remote. She is barely a foot long. The minute she saw the camera she jumped right on the chair and posed. Nope, never had her picture taken ;). She is a whiner. Constantly. She makes noises sort of like R2-D2 when he isn't sure of something. Her bark is more like a scream, and causes instant heart stoppage. Twice last night she got startled by the cats and barked like she was being murdered. The first time dh and I both woke up in the throes of heart failure. I slept through the second time, I adapt like the borg when it comes to sleep. When dd was a baby she could roll over in her sleep and I would wake up. But once my little brain decides a certain noise is safe, tuned out completley. DH is not so adaptive. I can still startle him by walking into a room. Not quietly, no sneakiness, just walk in. It's like he thinks he lives alone and is always surprised to see the rest of us. Either that or too much coffee. Well, the twitching eye says it is time to go back to work, after all, there is that deadline. Till next time!
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Last night, Ruby needed to rest and DD wanted to play. So we went to visit a neighbour with two little girls. They are moving soon, so we have to get in some good visits before that happens. The older girl is three, the younger is about 7 months. The 3yo just adores DD! She gets so excited and shows her every single toy she owns. They love to use playdough together. Last night DD squeezed out a long orange tube and some red stringies because they were making meatloaf and carrots ROFL. You should have seen the concentration, as the little girl cut the orange piece into rounds. Very serious work LOL. She had no idea what meatloaf was, but she was gonna make it right! The baby gets a kick out of watching the girls play too. At one point the older girls were dressing up in hawaiian outfits, and the baby was laughing fit to bust. I am not sure what was so funny exactly, but whatever it was sure tickled her. She is a fussy baby. Not fussy as in colicky, but fussy as in wants momma's attention every single minute. If she thinks her mother is doing something else (like to talking to me, even though she is holding baby in her arms and amusing her with a toy) she looks up at her and whines and fake cries. She will play intently with something, then "test" to make sure mommy is watching by turning her head slightly and whining to see if mommy will answer. When she does, back to playing LOL. I know, as a mother, it is hard to ignore it when our babies need something. But really, the child is not in distress and will not perish if her mother does not look at her every moment. When DD was a baby she discovered that when she coughed (for whatever reason) that people reacted. Especially my mother-in-law. Every cough meant she was dying of pneumonia, every sneeze must mean the child was critically ill - rush her to the doctor! It wasn't long before she would FAKE COUGH and watch to see what grandma would do. Then laugh like a loon. That is right, LAUGH. This is how diabolical children are. They scare us to death then laugh in our faces. Now, I was on to this fake cough from the very beginning and learned to ignore it. Which just proved to MIL that I was a bad mother. My child is choking to death and I am not running to her aid! Look, if I wanted to be laughed at I would apply for a job as an exotic dancer. DD still fake coughs (the sound is quite convincing, but I can guarantee that if she sticks her tongue out while she does it - IT IS A FAKE). MIL still panics each time. DD no longer laughs, but gets this sad puppy dog look on her face, acts debilitated, and sucks it all up lol. Our neighbour is distressed that this baby needs so much attention, and her husband (while he is a very nice guy) is not all that involved with the kids. Sure, he plays with them sometimes but they are HER responsibility. Momma is not getting any sleep (baby still wants to nurse several times a night). Momma cannot look away even for a moment. Momma is getting frazzled! When DD comes over to play, at least the 3yo is occupied for a while giving her a little breathing room. And I will take the baby and play with her and hold her so mommy can do a few things. But if the baby makes a noise, she comes running LOL. I keep telling her SHE IS FINE. She is just checking. "I don't want you to have to hold a crying baby" she says, as she dances around to baby's (and the other girl's) amusement. I assure her, that after several nieces and nephews who were demanding (three with very bad colic) I am not going to crumple if I hear a baby cry. Especially a fussy baby that is testing how long we will make her wait before mother drops everything to come play. Most of the people she sees lately want to hold the baby, then hand her back the minute things get noisy, stinky, or sticky. I can handle whatever happens, now go load the dishwasher ROFL! By the end of the visit, baby was sitting and playing fine. She would look over to make sure mommy was still around, but no fussing. Neighbour was gushing - how did you DO that? I said I didn't do anything. You just gave her a little space and trusted she wasn't getting killed every time she squealed. This girlie needs to know that other people can fulfill her needs, not just mommy. And I think if daddy was more involved that would help (but we all know how that goes, right? I had - HAVE - the same issues with DH). "You didn't spoil her, she isn't a bad baby. If anything you are TOO good a mother, and now she expects her every whim to be met immediately. Needs should be filled immediately, whims not so much. I know with DD, there were times when I needed somebody to just reassure me that I was doing okay, and that sometimes things don't work out the way we expect. And baby books are great, but life doesn't always arrange itself in neat paragraphs and chapters. Babies do things like hit milestones out of order, get distressing illnesses, spike fevers for no reason, and find new twists to everyday events just to keep us on our toes (DD decided to drool blood all over herself when her first tooth broke through, scaring us to death. In hindsight that white sleeper might have made the situation seem even more dire). It was getting late and close to everybody's bed time, so we announced clean-up. Once that was finished, I said "My work here is done. Your kids are overstimulated and sticky, it is time to leave" ROFLMAO! We will be sad when they go. And now, for your amusement, is a picture of Ruby in her bee costume. It never ceases to amuse me, even though many people have seen the picture before. I giggle every time. You can see her, and hundreds of other dogs in their bee costumes at Beedogs.com.
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
I was on the phone last night with Anne (Cherryfizz from the KT) when I noticed that Ruby had swelling around both her eyes and across her nose roll. One side of her face seemed swollen. She was acting fine, wanting to play, being her pug self. I figured if it was really worrisome once DH got home I would bring her to the emergency vet. I got some ice and tried to hold it on her, thinking maybe she banged herself somewhere. All I succeeded to do was get bit all over and make her crazy - she thinks towels are for tugging and pulling and attacking. By the end of the call, the swelling was already starting to go down so I figured we would check her in the morning and if anything looked off I would call our regular vet. She was fine when we went to bed (swelling pretty much completely gone). At about 12:30am, she started acting agitated and breathing funny. Like she couldn't get comfy or catch her breath. It went from general panting to gasping and choking. So off to the emergency vet we went! She seemed so sick yet was still happy to go on a car ride and wanted to sit in my lap. She walked into the emerg. clinic under her own power, still gasping but nosy and sniffing and looking around. Even walked right onto the scale and waited (we won't divulge the result, it is not proper etiquette). The vet on duty checked her face, but really unless you know a particular pug a bit of swelling or "offness" in the facial area is hard to detect. They have these skin rolls and wrinkles, and their noses are squishy and they make funny noises. It's a real trick to know a FUNNY noise from a funny noise with these guys. She was such a good girl, even after getting shots (antihistamine, cortisone in case swelling in her mouth or throat was causing the problems). They put a catheter in one leg (in case she crumpled), sedated her, and put her in an incubator to give her oxygen. Her breathing quickly returned to normal. We kept her in there for about an hour to make sure she had good benefit of the O2, then took her out to see how she did on her own. She was pretty groggy, but wanted to come to me and get down off the table. Her breathing remained normal. Well, normal for a pug anyway. My choices were to leave her there for obs, or bring her home and come back if her condition changes. I chose to take her home. So I left with a sedated pug (which is like carrying a dead body, really) wrapped in a towel. Just so you know, sedated pugs "leak". Yes, they pee LOLOL. We knew this from when she was spayed. Hence, the towel. We cuddled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and were still lying like that when DD came to tell me my alarm was going off. Ruby's breathing this morning is fine, but she is still acting sedated. She just sits and stares. She does NOT like the catheter in her paw, and hates the green bandage they used. So now, just waiting and watching. Took this pic yesterday before all the fuss:
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
I am not usually cold. In fact, I am the person wearing a sleeveless shirt and no socks in the middle of winter, and still look flushed and overly warm. I have a fetish for crazy socks, but really can't stand to have them on my feet. Immediately overheated. And I can't just take them off. No, I have to RIP them off and toss them across the room, as though they were evil. If you walk through my house, you will notice two things. One, I am a horrible house-keeper and we live in squallor much of the time. And two, there is a pile of abandoned socks in just about every room. Now, seeing the socks doesn't bother me because aesthetically I have that sock fetish, remember? And they were only on my feet for mere seconds so they aren't exactly dirty and thus do not raise that flag when I see them. Dh on the other hand, has his own sock issues. Clean socks directly from the laundry basket (still warm from the dryer even) are DIRTY and he doesn't like to touch, see, or be near them. He can barely stand his own socks, but the socks of other people deserve special hatred. Want to make him run like the wind? Threaten to touch him with your sock. This disparity causes marital discord. I can't stand that the counter is always dirty and wet, he can't stand seeing socks in every room. We are at the point where each secretly wonders if the other is doing this horrible thing to push buttons intentionally, or is that other person just that dense. The scarey part is, we are just that dense ROFL. I do irritating stuff like hang my coat on the back of the kitchen chair (or toss it on a living room chair), leave my knitting/crochet stuff lying around in big piles, stack dishes on my computer desk (I also collect cups ;), and leave sock inuksuks wherever I go. I like to think that these are endearing quirks. But thinking that is all part of my mental illness, and admitting it is the first step, right? One of my other quirks is that when I am hot I expect someone to DO something about it. When I am cold, I expect people to snap to and somehow correct this horrible thing happening to me. I don't know how people can stand being cold, really. My hands and feet are like ice bricks, my butt could cause hypothermia at a touch, even my nose is like an ice cube. But I am afraid to put on a sweater and/or socks. Sure, it will feel good at first. But then, I will get overheated and nauseous and stuffy and want to throw those warm items out the window so they will be far far away from me. Not just take them off, I want them AWAY FROM ME. I like to dress for the weather, so in winter I bundle up. But don't dare turn the heat on in the car or expect me to keep my coat on in a store, man that makes me hot and nasty (and not in a good way). I would rather run coatless in frigid weather into the mall than have to wear or carry my coat while I shop. I am a person of extremes. And that is endearing, right? Apparently I also constantly seek validation *snort*! Speaking of endearing, would you like to see the cutest widdle fishies ever? The big orange one is "Cedric the Murderous Fish" (about six inches long). The other is Dudley, and he is the friendliest fish I have ever met. Comes right up to look at us, begs for food, and stares the cat right in the face LOL. That odd thing hanging off the rock is a golden algae eater (although he is green at the moment, but we don't mention that in case it is rude). His name is Ozzy (yes, THAT Ozzy and was named by my daughter, who has never seen the show but knows all the music as DH has been a fan for years). That yellow crescent on the bottom edge is the top part of the gigantic yellow snail named Judas Priest (please deliver me, I am outnumbered. She also named the snail. Is it wrong that a 6 year old girl can be a Judas Priest fan like her dad?). There is also a neon tetra that decided to hide and doesn't show in this picture. There were three (Larry, Moe, and Curly) and now there is one but we don't know WHICH one. I know. We are demented. But that is endearing, right?
Monday, February 20, 2006
It seems that the universe is trying to teach me something. Something profound. Something so important that fate gave me several chances to learn it. That something? That I suck at video games. Now, I sort of knew this. I have childhood memories of our various Atari systems (remember waiting ages for games to load from a cassette tape? And the noises it made - weeee-aannnnnnn-gggggggggg-brrrrrt!). Asteroids, Centipede, Space Invaders, and more. And I was never good. Never got very far. Thank goodness for reset buttons LOL. Then came the PC games. We won't even mention the coin operated arcade type games (now I could pay money to die immediately. Sometimes three times in a row!). No matter how many times I played I was not very good. Very little hand-eye coordination. It takes too long for my tiny brain to process what is going on and tell my hands what to do. And my hands are stubborn anyway and don't do what they are told. My mind says (too late) hit the button to fire! My hands (after a lengthy sabbatical) press the button to jump. So my little character gets shot right between the eyes, since he has jumped up directly into the path of the fireball (or whatever). By the time I realize what I have done, the system is playing "music to mock by" and displaying the words GAME OVER for all the world to see. Oh, how I used to long to put my initials on that "high scores board"! Sure, I won awards for speech contests and science fairs and art exhibits. My diaramas were first rate, and I got every badge in brownies with nary a hiccup (well, except when I chose Jello for my cooking badge. I still to this day cannot make jello. I have trouble with authority and can't take direction, not even from the box of a dessert mix). But never ever got to put my initials in the high score lineup of a video game. My daughter is six. She can sit and play a gameboy, complete boards, and yes even put up her initials. Of course, she had to ask what initials were and what hers are, but still. She has tried to teach me. She sits next to me and peers over and screams and fidgits and gets all worked up "Jump up! No jump UP. 'A' button. No, I mean 'B' button. Move move move! Don't touch that turtle! Eat the mushroom....now jump. JUMP JUMP!!!". Never mind that the second it started a turtle touched me and I was dead before she even began with the instructions. She gets so disgusted with me. An hour later, she is still grumbling and mumbling "told her to jump....can't touch the turtles....never even ate the mushroom". I get pretty disgusted with myself as well. First off, for even caring that I suck at video games. And second off, for being so sucky at video games. I like to think that I am reasonably intelligent. So why can't I do things like play video games, or create an ebay seller's account (see note)? Or why do I have to completely scratch and ruin the acrylic fish tank with an algae scraper that is clearly for GLASS only before I realize I am not doing a "good thing"? How many times have I stood staring at the grocery store cashier before I clue in I am supposed to PAY now. What was I waiting for, exactly? Or waited at a stop sign before deciding it is not going to change colour so I might as well continue on (after all, it is a stop LIGHT that changes colour, stupid). Or placed a quarter in a pay phone and gotten angry that nothing is happening, then realize I expected the thing to dial itself. Can you imagine living with all that? Next time you see my DH give him a knowing look, a commiserating nod, and a pat on the back. It's even worse than you know. It's one thing to do such idiotic things. It's another to have a whole attitude about it, rant and rave, stomp feet and throw fits.....oh the wonderful fits I have thrown! I have laughed and cried at the same time. I have declared I was having a stroke or aneurysm and laid down on the floor. I have brought attention to my twitching eye and screamed "DOES THIS LOOK LIKE THE EYE OF A PERSON WHO IS OVER-REACTING?!?!?!". Wouldn't it be fun to live with that every day? Forget the nods and pats, send him food and a bus ticket. This morning, true to style, I spent an hour trying to get Xena to come out so I could take her picture. Normally this cat is all over me. She talks to me while I make school lunches. She sings when I clean the kitchen. She steals items from my desk and uses me as a tight-rope while I sleep. It's hard to get away from her. But when I WANT her so I can take a picture, the little beggar hides. I won't tell you the state of my eye twitch when I finally gave up and turned off the camera, only to realize she had been following me silently the whole time. DH, in what turned out to be a very unwise decision, laughed his arse off at me. Forget the food and bus tickets, send him arnica cream and some clean gauze. Note about sellers account After days and days dealing with the customer service reps from ebay, my last message from them was the exact same response as the first. I didn't think I would survive going through that loop again. The problem was, my address is in Canada but my ebay ID was for ebay.com (the US site). Supposedly I had to register with ebay.ca (the Canadian site), then I should have been able to become a seller easy peasy. WRONG! Kept telling me I was already registered and did not have to do so again. When I got that last message, part of the wiring in my brain melted for sure. I finally just gave up. Created a new ID at ebay.ca which will allow me to sell at both the .ca and .com sites (the Canadian site does not allow for a postage calculator while the .com does, which is the reason for wanting to sell there). So my old id is krystagr, my new id is dancesingarden. If you see me selling something, buy it - tee hee!