Awww. He’s Sick. I Wanna Kill Him!

Joy joy

I’m flabbergasted. (And I can’t seem to get rid of that image of the happy birthday cake.  Pretend it says Happy Fucking New Year, okay?)

Hah hah! I’ve always wanted to use that word.

Now, I get sick on an average of 4 to 5 or even 6 times per year. I rang in the new year with a sinus/ear special infection, and have been recovering with the cursed antibiotics since.


My husband, who proudly proclaims that he’s NEVER sick, is just that. Sick. He’s got bronchitis, and as soon as he got the Official Seal of Bronchitis, he’s taken to having a mantra of “I feel so sick” and then “oh my God”, and occasionally, “am I gonna die?” The final question has had a change in answer since yesterday. I now tell him “yes, yes you will. It’s up to you if it’s sooner or later”.


Whining. Requesting all kinds of things. Being a total pain in the ass. Begging to have his temperature taken every 20 minutes.


But I’m a Buddhist, and I’m working on my compassion. I’m trying, honestly. I have to wonder what the neighbors think as I walk from the sickbed (bedroom) to the kitchen saying something along the lines of “Okay honey. I’ll get you more water. And then I’ll dump it over your fucking head if you don’t stop telling me how shitty you feel and how to handle our daughter from your bed!!!!!”


Do you know that yesterday was so bad that when my sister picked up Kiddo and I to go to Walmart, I was excited!!! I HATE Walmart with a passion!!!!


Ah, and on the final bit. I am now sick. Ugh. I feel so sick. Oh my GOD! Am I gonna die??


Peace, Restored

peace street

Here is a follow up for those of you who are interested. I told you before how it pisses me off to be pissed off. And I was seriously pissed at my husband. Now, there is no doubt I will be again, but for right now, I am okay with him. I told him that I wanted an apology (a real one) and some flowers.

Instead, he bought me a new tablet, and then apologized to me in front of our daughter. It felt sincere and actually made me feel better.

So, all is forgiven….until next time!

Student Punished For Driving Drunk Friend Home. Awesome.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

There are good teachers, and there are good principals.

Then there are dead weighted, tenure protected assholes who show our kids that doing the right thing will get your ass in trouble. Ugh. Does this make you all sick too?? I’d love to see MADD get involved in this.

Erin Cox, Massachusetts Teen, Punished By School After Trying To Drive Home Intoxicated Friend.

A WTF Moment – 2 Fifth Graders Plotted To Kill “Annoying” Girl

The article is disturbing.  But what I find disturbing as well is that the prosecuting attorney thinks it’s normal kid stuff to set cats on fire and hit people with sticks and rocks.  Remind me not to ever move to this county in Washington!

Two fifth-graders ‘plotted to kill girl they found annoying’ found with knife, gun and ammo – NY Daily News.

Did That Dog Pick Flash Off Of A Wall???


I don’t think it’s right.  But then it’s an awful looking tattoo… And how was this poor dog asleep during tattooing???  Ugh! Like a pit bull isn’t cool enough, he had to get inked!

Man tattoos Pit Bull: Outrage from animal lovers as Ernesto Rodriguez gives DOG a tattoo | Mail Online.

My Failures – An Unfinished Expose

Failure: Vegetarianism

About 20 years ago, I embarked on the journey of meat free living. It lasted for five years. It was a stupid proposition for me, being a veggie hater. But my heart was oh so pure, and I wanted to practice what I preached, but what happened was that I ate lots and lots of starches, very few vegetables, tons of pizza and pasta. Not. Fucking. Smart!!

But I did keep up with it for five years, and I did feel good about my soul, although it was slathered in lots of fat. I fancied myself an Indian food lover, which I still believe, except that I order everything mild, which is just wrong and full of cheating goodness!

Just the best of everything

I can’t even tell you how many birthdays I spent at Gandhi – I need to take Kiddo there – it’s been too long!

Failure: Animal Activism

Once I went to Bloomingdales at Christmas time with a stocking full of coal. I smacked it down on a specific cosmetic counter and it made the loudest smack sound. I then told the poor counter girl that the stocking full of coal was for all the animal testing they’d done to make women pretty. Then I got super embarrassed and ran out. I still laugh about it to this day, and we’re again going back decades!

My friend Don was NOT a failure. He would dress up like a bunny. In a bunny costume. And he would protest fur sales and testing, you name it. The cops would come, they would arrest him, and then they’d take his mugshot both with and without the bunny head. He was brilliant, and funny and ultimately became an environmental lawyer. Me? Oh I stayed in the music business. It was fun. Ugh.  This picture?  No, that’s not Don!

Kiddo Is Afraid

Kiddo has a fear of both feathers and birds.  This seems to have come out of nowhere (although I’m very willing to blame a Barbie movie with Kelsey Grammar in it) and it now would appear to be getting worse.

Greedy Bastards

Mozzarella Thieves!

One day last month, we were on the beach, and we had opted for a snack bar lunch on this particular day.  It was of the incredibly (un)healthy variety, and included french fries and mozzarella sticks.  Kiddo and I went and got a table to wait for the rest of our family to join us from the snack bar.  No sooner did I put the freaking food down when the biggest seagull you’ve ever seen swooped down on us like a winged gangster and stole not one, but TWO piping hot mozzarella sticks.  Now, the German tourists who were watching this found it hilarious, even when Kiddo began screaming, shaking and crying with a force and energy I had never seen from her before.  She was frozen stiff, scared to death.  My sister had just stepped out toward the table and Kiddo made a break for her.  It took us a while to calm her down, and even longer to persuade her to go back to the beach.  But when she DID go back, she was now also afraid of the waves in a sharper, more phobic way.

I love birds.  I think they’re awesome.  A friend had birds while I had cats.  Her birds were all messed up mentally because she hadn’t spent enough time with them, and when I’d sleep over, they’d break out of their cages and hop around on my face.  I just wanted to take them all home, but the cat thing made it unrealistic.  When I found out I needed surgery for what I was told was breast cancer (and which wasn’t, thank God/Goddess), I ended up wandering around NYC in a zombie like fugue.  I ended up in a pet store where I found a Sun Conure that I fell so deeply love with that I harrassed my husband over and over again to go and buy him with me.  I’d go into the store, he’d go crazy, roll around on the bottom of the cage while I stroked his tummy, he fell asleep on my finger once, and the shop people offered me their employee discount because the bond was so great.  He did end up being purchased by a nice man, but I hated him with jealousy for a year for good measure.

This fear is so difficult to understand for me, but I’m trying.  Yesterday we went to an Italian festival/carnival out on Long Island, and they had an animal station type of thing.  It was the nicest “petting zoo” I’d ever seen, because they didn’t give you pellets, they gave you fresh lettuce and carrots to feed the animals.  They had baby pigs, llamas, turtles, lizards, a dwarfish cow, bunnies, guinea pigs and a few other adorable animals, as well as some baby chickens.  Yeah.  Baby chickens.  They had mixed up some of the animals in a few spots and when I said “look honey, baby guinea pigs!” there were also some baby guinea hens and chickens.  Rigid.  White in the face.  Screams. She was not right on top of the booth – she had space. She was terrified.  I didn’t know what the hell to do.  I could see she was scaring the animals, so I had concern for both she and them.  I lifted her up and put her over the fence to my sister and husband.  She calmed down and went on a pony ride.  I stayed with the animals for a while longer because I wanted to make sure I didn’t react with annoyance or anger.  It was eye-opening.  Many parents weren’t really interested in the animals, so I ended up showing the kids how to feed them and playing with the animals.  It broke my heart that I couldn’t show Kiddo.

So, what’s next?  Therapy?  Will she outgrow this?  Ugh.  You know, she’s also very shy and finds it difficult to talk to new people, but she heard me say something complimentary about a young woman I saw with some interesting tattoo work, and she said “Mama, let me go and tell her you like the tattoos.  I’ll give her your card!”  I said how awesome it would be, and she did an amazing job.

Tomorrow, First Grade begins, and I know it’s tearing her up inside.  Mama and Papa were home most of the summer with her, so it was kind of idyllic for her (for me, it was a dream come true.) But life is going to change now and all I can offer her is a lavender bath tonight with fresh jammies, and a new school outfit for tomorrow that her aunt is buying for her as we speak.  Advice is welcome. So is criticism.  I need some help. I love this kiddo!

Oh, and thanks for listening.

Weirdest Dream. Ever!

Ghost Flower by Henrik Thorn
Ghost Flower, a photo by Henrik Thorn on Flickr.

To start this post off right, let me wish my Kiddo a Happy 6th Birthday!!! Can’t believe we’ve said goodbye to 5, such an amazing year. Saying hello to First Grade and all that it brings will be exciting. Bittersweet – all of it!

But last night, I had a dream. My dad passed away when I was 10. It was the single most devastating thing I’ve ever had to go through. I was crazy about him.

In my dream, people began to act really strangely toward me, and I felt like no one wanted me around. I kept gravitating toward my sister’s house, but she was nervous and distant. Then I saw a camper type vehicle in her driveway and decided to check it out.

What I discovered was that my dad was NOT dead, but had taken off and started some new identity. He’d remarried and had more children. He’d come back to visit with my sister, and for some really frightening reason, he and she had cleaned the living room walls of the house I grew up in with gasoline. I found both of them sleeping in the camper when I walked in there.

Everyone knew about my dad’s escape in my family except me. I’m losing chunks of the dream now, but that’s the gist of it.

Of course my dad died in 1976 at the age of 53, so he’d be 89 or so now, but he looked young and happy in the dream. He didn’t seem to have any apology for me with regard to putting me through the worst years of my life, and in the end I couldn’t forgive him.

He was an incredibly shy man who was crazy about my mom, so this makes zero sense to me. Anyone have any ideas?? Am I truly CRAZY?

How beautiful is this picture? Taken by Henrik Thorn and used via Flickr. Lovez it!

Thanks for listening to a crazy rant from an aging mama!

Via Flickr:
A ghost looking flower found in the forest.