Monday, August 31, 2009

My Angel



My Angel - my light of my life. I am very scared for her right now. Even though I know she will be OK.



Sunday night I was washing dishes when I heard her trying to get up. She has a hard time on the wood floors, so you can hear her scramble from a mile away. But this time it sounded different. I went around the corner to see if I could help her. She was turning her head from side to side like she didn't know where she was. And she couldn't get up. I tried to help her, but she just couldn't do it. Then I noticed her eyes. She had nystagmus. If you have ever been drunk and had "the spins" when you tried to lay down, or if you have ever had vertigo. Nystagmus is when your eyes can't focus, and they are kinda twitching. Moving rapidly side to side. Not the lids, the eyes themselves. They are moving and you have no control over it, and can't make it stop. The room is spinning. Angel's eyes were doing that. I told my husband, if she were human, I'd swear she had vertigo. I told him to go to Ask.com and see what could cause nystagmus in dogs. He came up with Vestibular disease.



Well, all I knew was my baby had to be OK. I sat in the floor with her until it stopped, about 15-20 minutes, then tried to see if she could walk. I got her to follow me down the hallway, and back up again, thought everything was OK, it was all over. But when we got back out to the kitchen, she fell, and it started all over. Then she started throwing up. So off the emergency vet we went, I was a nervous wreck. They had to bring a gurney out to the truck to bring her in, and that really did me in! I lost it! They had to keep her overnight, said that it probably was Old Age Vestibular Disease. I picked her up Monday morning and took her to her regular vet, Dr. Wolfe, (he is her life-saver, literally). He said the same thing, and kept her Monday. I stayed home from work, cried all day, went back to see her Monday afternoon, no change yet. He said it could be 72 hours to a week, but he thought she would come out of it.



So scary! But I trust Dr. Wolfe, her life has been in his hands before, and he got her through just fine. He is very gentle with her.



She can't control any of her movements, her tongue just hangs out, because she can't control it, either. She can eat a little, but drops the food very easily, so just a couple bites of wet food is all she can do.



The house is very lonely without her. I miss her.



Withdrawal Stinks.


Ok, obviously here is something I have not yet figured out!!
This, of course, is one of my favorite pictures taken at my favorite place in the world, and I can't figure out how to flip it!!! So just tilt your head to the left and enjoy...
I am anxiously awaiting cooler weather. Or at the very least, some not-too-humid weather. I LOVE the beach and haven't been since July because I'm pregnant and can hardly breathe in the humidity. And when I go to the beach, I want to walk a 1/2 mile down the beach before making camp, because too many people are up at the beginning of the beach. That is not very easy in my condition!
Therefore I am suffering from beach withdrawal. This is very painful. I may have to check in to rehab. Do they have rehab for beach addiction? If they do, they probably charge $15,000 a week. Rehab is out of the question.
SO.... as soon as the humidity goes back down and I can breathe again, the very first thing I'm doing is hitting the beach again!! I miss it SO MUCH!!

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Yep, It's a Bear



Ok, so I did actually find the proof.



I had looked in the wrong paper, at first. But then I thought about the local paper, Gloucester-Mathews Gazette Journal. And there it was! This picture was actually taken in the back yard of the house across from my parents' house. Wow. That's all I can say. And I was all ready to send my son and parents up the river for fibbing. Shame on me. Shame, shame, shame.

I don't even know what to say.

There are bears in Gloucester!! Wow.

I am such a terrible mom! But at least I didn't tell my son that I thought the bear story was a tall tale, right? I still don't buy him hearing this thing growl at him...

Friday, August 28, 2009

Lions, Tigers, and Bears, Oh My




Yep, that's snow on the beach. Nope, it has nothing to do with this blog. Fortunately, I have not seen the "star" of this blog, therefore, I have no pictures.

I have lived in Gloucester my entire life. We have all kinds of wildlife around here. We have racoons, squirrels, opposums, snakes, turkeys, deer, foxes, farm animals (gotta love the moo cows). But what we DON'T have are - lions, tigers, and bears.

My son informed me the other day that there was a bear residing in my parents' neighborhood. Yes, a bear. In Gloucester. Now, I haven't bought a paper, but this bear was supposedly in the paper yesterday. The story as my son tells it, is that this black bear has been spotted by my parents' neighbor 3 doors down, and another a couple roads down. They have a neighbor behind them, there is a pond, a field, then the neighbor's house. Well, apparently this bear was in that field, and apparently the hunters (who have apparently been asked to help by the local game wardens) came and shot at the bear, missed the bear, then got charged by the bear, and they all jumped in their trucks and left. Of course, this is all here-say. My son also proceeded to tell me that he heard this bear growl, then heard footsteps - while he was in my parent's back yard. So he went in the house. I'm not so sure I buy THAT one...

The bear is apparently 7 foot tall, and is still at large.

I apologize for the overuse of the word "apparently" in this blog, but I have no proof of any of this, except my mom swears up and down it's true... and I can't think of another word that means the same thing, because I'm having a "baby is sucking my brain and I can't think straight" moment.

Did anyone see this bear in the Daily Press yesterday?

I don't know what to make of all this. I have never heard of any bears anywhere near Gloucester County. My son has been known to stretch to truth, take a small comment and run with it, daydream, etc etc. My parents have been known to "humor" him. But it sure is a good story, true or not.



Thursday, August 27, 2009

Angel, Part II


Here's my Angel reading up on babies - she's never had to deal with this before, so she better study up while she can.
So to continue my Angel's story...
We got her home that night, and the poor baby would not leave my side for anything. We had no idea what she had been through, what her personality was, but boy, we soon found out. She's afraid of so many things. Ex was getting ready for bed, pulled off his belt, and Angel hid behind me with her tail between her legs. We soon found out she was afraid of guns (just the sight of a gun - Ex was a hunter, so there were plenty of them in house.) She was also afraid of the fly-swatter, newspaper, and thunder. And fireworks!! Oh, my goodness. She had a standing prescription for doggy Valium for July 4th, New Years, and any other time there were going to be little fireworks going off. I haven't been out for July 4th or New Years in 9 years. That's OK with me, because Angel needs me. Even with the drugs, I had to make sure I had pottied, got anything I would need to eat or drink for the night, then I had to give her the meds then "get in position". This meant sitting on the floor with blanket in hand. Angel would get in my lap (all 85 pounds of her), and then I would have to put the blanket over her and hold her with my arms around her, and talk to her while she trembled and shook all over. I felt so bad for her!! If I were to try to get up for any reason while she was drugged, she would try to follow me immediately, which meant she would wobble and fall, sometimes in painful looking positions! So I gave up ever trying to get up until the fireworks were over and the meds wore off. Those days are actually gone now, because she can't hear anything anymore.
Going back, the very first vet appointment she went to, I got bad news. Angel had heartworms, and it was already affecting her liver. She had to go on special meds to get her kidneys "in shape" just so she could tolerate the treatment. The treatment was explained to me as injections of arsenic. She would have to stay at the vets for two separate treatments, for two nights and three days each time. It was also explained to me that the treatment could also kill her. Needless to say- I went on Xanax. I work in Internal Medicine, and am very close to the docs I work with, so they recognized the "lack of me" in my eyes. I had no clue where I was half the time. I felt like I was watching myself from outside my body. I was on my way to a nervous breakdown, I was so scared for my Angel. I bet her previous owner dropped her off because they found out she had heartworms. That broke my heart. I visited the vet every morning and every afternoon, called at lunch time, the vet and his staff were awesome for putting up with me! But she made it through.
Now she is approximately 13. We don't know for sure, since she was a stray, 13 is the vets best guess. Bless her bones (and her heart), she can't squat anymore to potty, she sits all the way down instead, she can't even get in the bed with me anymore, hasn't been able to for about 4 years, when she has been used to sleeping with me for years. (That may have been why Ex is now the Ex, hehe, that girl is always looking out for me in mysterious ways!) Yep, me and my baby are going through alot of changes with her advanced age. She still follows me everywhere, I still can't do laundry or sweep without tripping over her, she still follows me into the closet and then can't back up (she never was able to back up - don't know why...) so I have to climb over her and go out ahead of her so she has enough room to turn around. But sometimes, if she is asleep, she won't hear me get up and go somewhere else in the house. Then she wakes up and realizes I am not where she thought I was, and boy she panics! Those are the only times she moves quickly anymore - when she is trying to find me.
I tell you one thing - she can still hear my teardrops from a mile away, and I will be in Eastern State when she goes to Heaven. She is my very best friend.
Now I have to stop because I am definitely boo-hooing.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Angel, Part I


Isn't she the most pretty girl in the world? She is in my world.

This story is going to have to be two parts, mostly because I am a minor-detail (usually having nothing to do with the story) freak. Sorry...

Thanksgiving 2000. I was still married to Ex at the time. My son was 4. On the way to Ex's Aunt's house for Thanksgiving Dinner. For whatever reason, son rode with Grandparents, therefore, Ex and I were able to talk about Christmas presents. I knew exactly what I wanted Santa to bring our son. A puppy. Not just any puppy, I explained to Ex, it HAD to be a golden retriever. This being because everything I read said that is the best breed for children. And it HAD to be a puppy because you never know what an adult dog has been through, and how they are with children, etc, etc. So we had this all planned out. We were going to get the puppy (from who knows where) and take it to my brother's house for him to puppy-sit, then pick up the puppy Christmas Eve late. That was the perfect plan.

We arrived at Aunt's house, very excited about our plans, and also excited about Aunt's cooking...

We had not been there too long when one cousin asked Aunt "Mom, is that dog still hanging around?". My ears perked up. Aunt replied "yes, poor thing sleeps out there next to Duke every night". Duke was Aunt's golden retriever who resided outside in a pen. I asked Cousin "what dog?". Cousin replied, "some stray". The dog had been there at Aunt's house for 3 days!

I immediately went outside to the front porch where all the guys were out talking. I sat on a chair, and as soon as I did, I saw her. Then she saw me. She came right up on the porch, passed by all the men trying to pet her, came and sat directly in front of me, scooted up as close as she could get, and put her head in my lap! The stray was a golden retriever. I looked down at her, we just looked into each other's eyes, and I fell flat on my face in love with her. I looked at Ex, and I informed him that she was coming home with us. Period. End of story.

He was hesitant, asked Aunt if she knew where this dog had come from, which she had no clue. They lived in a neighborhood where everyone knows everyone, and also everyone else's dogs. She must have been dropped of. Poor baby.

I reluctantly went in and ate Thanksgiving dinner, hoping she wouldn't run away. When we left, she was right there at the door waiting for me. We went to the car, opened the door, she looked up at me, and I nodded at her, and in she went. Right up on the seat beside my son, just like she belonged there! I cried! I'm crying now!!

So, we told our son that God sent her to us for Christmas early, which I firmly believe. So I named her Angel. And my son gave her the middle name "Bear". His favorite cartoon at that time was Little Bear. So Angel Bear it was, and still is.

She is my baby.

Now that you are staring at the back of your eyelids, I will give you a break, you can wake up and go read something interesting, and come back tomorrow for the "rest of the story".



Tuesday, August 25, 2009

I Know, I'll Blame the Hormones!



Kinda out of focus, I know. But I have to say the wind was blowing a gale. These are flood waters at Aaron's Beach, sometime last year during some storm. Couldn't even get down to the beach, the road was flooded.

There will be only the pictures I have saved for a while, no new ones.

Need to have a funeral.

Camera's dead.

Hubby killed it. (Not on purpose, and can't figure out how.)

Oh well.

Yesterday was Monday, and that's how the whole day went.

Does anyone know why we humans say pregnancy is "9 months"? I'm confused. I am 26 weeks. That is 6 1/2 months, so I should have only 2 1/2 months to go, right? Yeah. Until you figure pregnancy is 40 weeks. That, as far as I can figure is 10 months. I think I can still add/subtract. So that means I have 14 more weeks. That means 3 1/2 more months. uhggg. 3 1/2 more months of giving myself shots twice a day, having braxton hicks contractions, hurting pelvis, swelling feet and ankles. When all I want to do is meet this little guy! I can't wait! But it is all worth it, I keep telling myself that.

I'm getting a bit serious lately, for that I apologize. I think it's all the pregnancy hormones. As soon as I can think of one, I will have a funny story. Maybe I will tell my animal stories one by one. I hope I have pictures of all of them somewhere I can find them.

My hubby didn't have any funny stories about his camping trip. It rained almost the whole time! But they still had fun, and that's what matters. And the pyros did manage to have a bon fire the size of Texas. As soon as I can figure out how to get the pictures off the broken camera, I will share a pic of the Texas-size bon fire.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Sands of Time




OK, this is one of those wacky pictures that I am probably alone in thinking that it's anything but weird. If you can't tell, it is the beach, and sea (or bay) foam. And it has nothing to do with this post, as is getting to be a habit. Unless you call the picture "Sands of Time".
I am asking you ladies for advise. You all seem very capable of giving good, sound advise.
My I begin by saying my parents have a computer that they turn on every 3-6 months, and don't even know what a blog is. So there is no way they will stumble across this.
How do you handle aging parents? My mother is a young 73, very capable woman. I would say she lives in a 55ish body and mind. My father is another story. He is 79 and is living in a 79-year-old body and mind. He has been diagnosed with early Alzheimers, and has dementia. He is "with-it" and normal most of the time. But there are times when he goes off his rocker. It's not pretty. He is getting a bit unruly. He has been told by his docs not to drive anymore. He does anyway. He actually went somewhere to pick walnuts, and didn't even wear his shoes and didn't realize it until someone else brought it to his attention. (We did get a good laugh at that one!) But he is just not safe to drive. He will try to get off exits that don't exist, and run red lights and say that it would not have been safe to try and stop. He runs into things, scratches the car, gets lost, etc, etc.
The problems are:
1. My mom has always been very laid back, never says no to my dad, and lets him do whatever he wants. To avoid getting him too upset.
2. They keep my son.
My dad has no problem putting my son in the car and driving wherever with him. Including interstate, 2-3 hours away for doc appts. My mom is OK with this. I'm not. Been there, fought about that. Last week, my dad accused my son of doing something that he did not do. My son said that dad was in his face, waving his arms around, screaming at him, and had him cornered. My son was afraid. I asked my mom about this, and it was apparently just as bad as my son had said it was. I need to come up with another plan for him. He can probably start staying home by himself some now (Oh, that is making me cringe). But, he is 13 1/2. Gotta start cutting the cord sometime. Start.
I have to tell my mother, who is completely able to keep the new baby when he arrives, that I have to make other arrangements. Because of dad. I don't know how to tell her. That is going to be a big slap to her. But I don't feel safe leaving my big son there, so I really don't feel safe leaving a helpless baby there!
Again, I ask for HELP!! Please don't worry, I don't plan on asking ya'll for help for everything in my life. Really, I don't. But yesterday and today, I am. So, I'm needy sometimes....

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Guiding Light



This picture does somewhat have something to do with this post. Kinda. It involves the remote. The remote turns on the TV. The remote helps me tell the TV what shows to record on the DVR.

One of my very favorite shows, (OK, a soap opera), is going off air later in the summer. I can't believe it! I have been watching Guiding Light since I was 3! I remember when I was very young, my mom used to put me down for a nap midday. My room was at one end of the hallway. At the other end was the TV. If I sat outside my bedroom door, I could see directly down the hall to the TV. Mom always had Guiding Light on during my nap. I used to sit there and watch and she never knew! I have been watching it ever since. Except for a period of time where there was no such thing as DVR, and I didn't know how to tape anything on the VCR. That was only a couple of years that I missed. 2 years out of oh, 32 years or so, I think I can safely say I have been watching my whole life!

I don't know what I will do without that show! What will I do when I get home from work? That is the first thing I do. After I am done, then comes the laundry, the sweeping, the dusting, the dishes. No, I didn't mention cooking. I do not cook. I know, I know, shame on me!! But I really CANT cook. Unless it came in a box. I can, however, fry pork chops and make homemade mash potatoes. But, that's the extent of my cooking!!

Sorry, I got off track, where was I....

Oh yeah. I'm gonna really miss Reva, Josh, Billy, Buzz, you know, the whole gang. It's bad enough Philip is going to die again. Maybe. I keep thinking maybe the last episode Alan will actually die. For real this time. Even get buried. But even if that does happen, you know it's not really him, it's a double. Cuz Alan can't die. Ever. He's "unkillable". I just made up that word.

Yeah, I'm addicted to Guiding Light. So what other soap comes highly recommended? (I also watch ATWT). I am open to suggestions.

HELP!!

By the way, Gypsy is the cat in the picture. She is my girl cat. She is mean to the boys.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Stormy Weather



My husband is going camping with his buddy this weekend, so I will be on my own. Ahhh, house to myself. Almost. My son will be home, but he is a 13-year-old, so he will be cooped up in his room doing what 13-year-olds do. Whatever that is.

The fun part is, there is a hurricane a-comin'!!!!!

I really hope it's not a-comin' here, but just close enough to make for some really windy, stormy weather. If it does, I will be dragging my son to the beach with me (because I am a chicken and can't go by myself when the water is like the above picture). I have a phobia of water. I don't know what is in it (or maybe I do, and I am afraid of what I know is in it) and I can't see where my feet are, and I may step in a big hole that will suck me down. That would be certain death. I can't swim. And when it's rough out, it is beautiful, but it could very well come and get me and I will be lost forever. You never know how far up those waves are coming! But I will brave it, along with my son who will be rolling his eyes and asking "Why exactly are we going to the beach when it is raining and the wind is blowing a gale?" It will be worth it, because I just might get some more shots like the one above. Except maybe they will actually be in focus. Maybe.

If there is no blog on Monday, please come rescue us, although by then it may be too late.

Unrelated:

My mother gets back in town tomorrow, so next week, I won't have to wash my one pair of work pants EVERY DAY, because she can salvage the pair I have almost destroyed single-handedly, and also hem the others right the first time!! (My poor mom).


Thursday, August 20, 2009

Kinda scary, huh? I tried to sew.

I thought I was being smart ordering maternity nursing scrubs online, since they are $10 cheaper. Well, apparently, it wasn't that smart. I am no Suzie Homemaker. My husband had to tell me how to start, you know, the simple part. Turn them inside out and fold them up, etc. So I did that, and started happily sewing a "perfect stitch". When I was done, and very proud of myself, I proceeded to turn them right side out and try them on.

Oh boy!

They were just as long as they were to begin with, except they had this pucker in them. The pucker was actually my seam! And the stitches were so big I could see them from a mile away!

So, here I am, 35 years old, can't sew. My mother is out of town until tomorrow. I have a sewing emergency! Tomorrow IS Friday, right? I hope so!

How sad is that?? I have to laugh and poke fun at myself, if I didn't, I would cry. And that would be very ugly!!

So, laugh away!!!!!!!!

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

The Squirrel Part II


Sorry to keep you hanging, but moving on the rest of the story...
Poor thing was covered in fleas, head to tail. We couldn't bring him in the house like that, I have a zoo in here to begin with, I don't want all of them to get fleas, too. So we decided that he was so feeble, he may not live anyway, so we may as well try to give him a little bath. So we did. We used puppy shampoo and luke warm water, careful not to get his little eyes wet. He loved it. He acted almost relieved. We didn't know what to feed him, where to put him, etc. So we had the smaller aquarium that we had used for the lizard when he was smaller, and it had a screen top. So we put him in that with some towels. We didn't even know if he'd make it through the night. Well, we got our answer the next morning. When we got up and went into the "bar room" which is were we put his little aquarium, he had wriggled out of his towels, and was screaming. And all 3 of our cats were up on the bar, looking at this little rat-looking thing, no doubt wondering how to get in there to eat him, and also how so much noise came from such a little guy. He had made it!
Now, at this point we didn't have a computer, much less internet. So we were clueless as to how to take care of a baby squirrel. So, off to the pet store went my husband. He came back with puppy formula and a syringe. He was told that we had to feed him this 4 times a day. Well, I was only a couple months pregnant at the time, and everything smelled bad to me, everything made me feel like hurling. Including the puppy formula. Nasty. But who ended up feeding the little guy most of the time? Me. Fighting my gag reflex the whole time. Well, this little guy was so sweet when he was little! After he got done eating, he wanted to root around under my arms, around the back of my head, etc. Anywhere he could get to. And he loved pockets. Therefore, I named him Root. Or Rooter-Pooter. It fit, and it stuck.
Well, I thought we would nurse him back to health, and eventually put him back out into the wild. My husband had other ideas. As he grew and grew, and got off the formula and on to other things, my husband built him a cage. It is about 6 feet tall, 3 feet deep, and has a little house and trees in it. Complete with leaves at the bottom. This cage is in the "bar room".
Problem.
Baby coming. Need the "bar room" to be changed to a nursery.
That's a story for another time.
But, Root does still live here with us, he is crazy as a bed-bug, the cats don't try to eat him anymore. He is still sweet when he wants to be. But he can be a devil! We let him run around his room sometimes, and in the living room, too. He doesn't break too much.
So that's how you have a pet squirrel in your house.
Yep, that's my life and I love every minute of it!

Monday, August 17, 2009

The Squirrel Part I





I know people wonder "How in the world do you keep a pet squirrel in your house?"


Well, I'll tell you.


First off, this is as close as he gets to "posing" for a picture. He is always at mach speed.


This story starts off with me noticing a dead squirrel in the road just as I was pulling into our driveway on a Friday afternoon. The sight traumitized me. Oh, little did I know what was coming...


The next day, my husband was working in the yard, drinking beer as he merrily mowed, weed-wacked, shoveled poop, etc. , you know, man stuff. I was in the house doing my thing and after a few hours, I noticed him going back and forth from the garage to the way back of the back yard holding something long and weird-looking. I went to the back door, and saw my husband standing on a step ladder up against a tree with a contraption I had never seen the likes of, and likely will never see again. Or at least I hope. The long, weird-looking thing was actually 2 paint roller poles tied and duct taped together, end to end, with a crab net tied and duct taped to the end of them!! Can you image? If only I had the sense to break out the camera at that time, but I was in a state of shock. How could I not be in shock? Surely I had fallen and bumped my head so hard that I was hallucinating, but then my husband saw me, and proceeded to wave me out back. So out the door I go, not really wanting to know what on earth was going on.


Then, I hear it. A baby. Had to be a baby. Sounded just like a baby. But louder.


It took me a good few minutes to focus my eyes where my husband was pointing way up in the tree, but finally I saw him. There was the cutest little thing you ever saw, hanging on to the tree limb for dear life. His back feet and tail were dangling, and he was only hanging on with his two front feet. Screaming at the top of his lungs. Poor baby!! I almost started crying. You could see the nest, and apparently the dead squirrel was his mama, and got so hungry without her that he took off, up the tree instead of down, trying to find food!


My husband was trying to get him in the crab net, to no avail. After trying (and falling off the ladder) for 2 hours, finally the squirrel just got tired of hanging on and fell. I ran and got a towel, and thankfully he was not hurt in the fall, so I put him in the towel. He was so cold, and little. His eyes weren't even open yet! Regretfully, I only have his "baby pictures" on my cell phone, and I can't figure out how to get them off. His little belly was bald, and his tail looked like a rat tail with very little hair on it. He could hardly walk because he was so little and wobbly.
Now, not to leave you hanging or anything, but this is getting a bit lengthy, and hopefully your still awake! I will continue the story tomorrow, I promise.
Trust me, it gets better from here!


Saturday, August 15, 2009

Baby Steps



This picture was taken at my favorite place in the whole, entire world. I think. I haven't been all over the world, so as of right now, all I can say is that this is it, until further notice. We were in the middle of a nor'easter. Or maybe a hurricane. I can't remember. It was a bit cold out, and VERY windy. But I was determined to go, so I dragged my mother out with me, so that if I blew away, I wouldn't be blown away alone. Selfish, I know....

Moving on to the story of the day...

What I want to share with you today, is my experience with clothes shopping. Now, I remember that growing up, you got your clothes at Dollar General, Ames (while it was still open), or Roses. That was it. There was no Wal-Mart, there was no Peebles, no Fashion Bug. Nope. If you wanted a name brand, it looked like you were going on a trip "over the river". Here in Gloucester, years ago, that was a day-long trek. You packed like you were going to be gone for the weekend. You had to either pack lunch and dinner, or you had to bring along enough money to eat "over the river". Well, nowadays, we have clothes all over Gloucester County.


Except maternity clothes. None to be found. Nowhere. Period.

So off to a not-to-be-named maternity store in the town where I work. Now this place is very expensive. Although my idea of expensive and other people's idea of expensive is not the same. My friends make fun of me, because I am allergic to paying more than $8 for a shirt, and maybe $20 for jeans. I break out in hives! So I have a gift-certificate for this place. I go in this place saying to myself that I was NOT going to spend more than the total of that gift certificate. Now, this was not a cheap, $10 gift certificate, mind you. I walk into the store, and I am the only customer there, and you guessed it, they SWARMED! Only one of the ladies could "have me", so the one who got within arms reach first won. Or so she thought. She asked me so many questions, I felt like I was taking a pop quiz! I didn't study! Her last question to me was, "Where did you buy clothes before pregnancy?". I don't think she liked my answer. Wal-Mart. Her face was priceless. She then recovered, and proceeded to show me which racks have which type of clothing, asked (yet another question) what I was looking for specifically. So I told her I needed one pair of shorts and an almost dressy shirt. She showed me EVERYTHING in those categories, and as she was pulling things off racks and putting them in the dressing room that I had not even entered yet, I was busy trying to see the prices of these things. Then, I saw one. $44.95. WOW. That was for a pair of shorts! Never in my entire life have I EVER payed such prices!!!!! So, in the dressing room I am shooed, having not even had a chance to look at the racks myself, the dressing room already filled with 4 pairs of shorts, 3 pairs of pants, 4 bras, 1 camisole and 1 shirt. I did actually pick out the shirt on the way to the dressing room. How or why she didn't have more waiting for me, is beyond me. Maybe she hadn't gotten that far yet. The dressing room was about 102 degrees, by the time I had gotten through 2 pairs of shorts, 1 pair of pants and then the shirt, I was sweating like a mule! Meanwhile, the lady was STILL BRINGING ME CLOTHES!

Already very long story short, (I could go on and on and on) I didn't even try everything on, came out with 1 pair of shorts, and my 1 shirt, picked up a pack of undies, and still had to pay $12. Needless to say, I felt like a raccoon being treed by 5 dogs. They gave me dirty looks as I put my measly purchase up on the counter.

I vote for Wal-Mart to bring back their Maternity Line.
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Friday, August 14, 2009

Obviously First Timer

OK, this is my 2nd attempt. Hehe, as I snicker at myself.

So, I will first introduce myself. I will call myself Angel Mama, since my sweet baby girl, best friend, shoulder to cry on, etc etc... is named Angel.

Angel is my very old, deaf, hairy, stubborn, clingy golden retriever. As with all my brood, she was a stray who I could not leave behind. All the boarders here at the zoo have a story, these will be told at a later time.

Along with Angel, add in 3 cats, 1 rabbit, 1 lizard, and 1 squirrel. Yes, you read that correctly. A squirrel. At this point, add in a 13 1/2 year old son, a relatively new husband (2 years in October), and a bun in the oven -- stir until blended. But don't throw out your shoulder, because no amount of stirring could ever get out all the lumps! If it could, how boring would life be!?

I am doing something that some people call "remarrying and having more children". I call it starting over, just keeping some of the best parts from the first stab at it. The best parts would be the house, the son, and job, and the animals.

As you can see, this blog will probably go all over creation! I hope you will follow along day to day as my blog skills improve. I have already typed something like this just a few moments ago, and somehow lost it already!! Some days you may find pictures of my favorite place in the entire world, sometimes my crazy brood/zoo residents. However, I am NOT a photographer, I simply point and click, as will become painfully obvious at times. I will also share stories, gripe, whine, vent, educate (hehe) and hopefully be somewhat entertaining. Of course, I will also be throwing in a heaping helping of run-on sentences, sentences that make no sense whatsoever, bad grammar and probably bad spelling. This thing does have spell-check, right? Oh yes, I see it now.

Please feel free to leave feedback for me, I look forward to hearing from you!