Another Exciting Week! Snore

As you may have guessed, not much going on here. Which is good, I suppose! I just had my "yearly" exam, though it's been two years since my last checkup. Whoops! That's one reason I just switched doctors. Maybe going to a new doctor with fewer patients, instead of the busy OB/Gyn practice, will mean the office will actually want to see me every year! Everything looked fine, and I had some blood drawn to check out all that good stuff. I also get to schedule a screening mammogram now that I'm 35! Lucky me. It is supposed to take about three months to get an appointment, since it's only a screening, baseline mammogram. Hey, still better than most autism services wait lists! So, right now I have the form on my desk to remind me, with a lovely picture of breasts -- the nipples are like eyes, boring into me saying, "We're watching you! Pick up the phone and schedule it already!" That is, if either eyes or nipples could talk.


See? Can't you feel them staring at you? Stop staring, boobs!

This weekend the weather was nice (unlike today - raining) and we got some fall cleanup done. Saturday, Hubby mowed the lawn for the last time of the year and cleaned the gutters. The boys "helped" and Harrison got some gutter crud dumped on him. Note to boys: don't stand directly under Daddy's ladder when he's cleaning out the gutters. Sunday, I swept up all the gutter crud and Harrison helped me rake some leaves.

When I was in the garage getting the rakes, however, I smelled the second of two Horrendous Smells of the Day. The first occurred when I was sweeping off the back deck. Fergus, bless him, was sniffing around by the grill, and found the "drippings bucket" hanging under the grill that apparently hadn't been cleaned after it's last use. (That's one of the "not my job" things that Hubby is in charge of.) Fergus dumped the bucket on the deck, and by the time I discovered what he'd done, he'd eaten some of the nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty (did I mention nasty?) slop that had come out. Think rancid grease and fat. Yes, nasty. I took the nasty bucket inside to clean, and grabbed some paper towels to pick up the rest of the nasty fat, then dumped some hot water on the remaining slime on the deck. That was smell number one. I revisited it a few hours later when I was pooper-scooping the yard prior to raking, and found some piles of vomited up rancid grease and fat. Yeah, Fergus, that's why you shouldn't have eaten that. That's why it had that horrific smell. I guess dogs don't really see things that way, though.

Smell number two was similar to the first, and I thought it was more rancid fat vomit, thanks to Fergus. Nope. It was... Hey, what's that smelly thing in the pile of outdoor toys in the garage? It smells like something putrescent, oh hey, it's a dead rat! I moved the soccer ball and stomp rocket out to the driveway to hose down and grabbed the pooper scooper to dispose of the nasty, nasty, nasty, nasty-smelling carcass. How long had that been there? Why am I the only human with a sense of smell who notices these things? Where are these rats coming from, and can they please stay away? (That's why we have cats - vermin patrol. However, I would prefer they keep the vermin outside.) I hosed down the garage floor and now need to buy some more Nature's Miracle. I wonder if they have a "dead stuff/putrescence" formula, or if the cat pee version will do the trick.

This weekend the boys and I also went to see if there were any more salmon, but didn't see any. Last weekend we heard them, but didn't get to see them. You could just hear them splashing around upstream from our viewing spot.

I also worked on Halloween costumes for me and Hubby. The boys both decided yesterday they want to be Spiderman. Yes, both of them. Hubby and I discussed other Spiderman friends and foes to see if one of them wanted to be someone else, but right now, they both still want Spiderman. I'm not going to attempt to make two Spiderman (and typing that out, I always think of it pronounced like a surname -- Spidermun) costumes, so I'll have to try to buy those. Maybe one will be the black costumed Spiderman? They've been playing the Spiderman Xbox game, hence both wanting to be him. A few weeks ago, Harrison wanted to be EVE (from Wall-E) so I suppose Spiderman is a much-easier costume choice, provided I'm not attempting to sew it myself. (My sewing skills are very basic and do not involve spandex.) Plus there was the whole realization on Harrison's part that EVE was a girl, and I could see the first struggle about gender identity taking place in his four-year-old mind: "Maybe EVE can be a boy, too?" I was just beginning to figure out how to make an EVE costume (and assuming Hutton would be Wall-E, which would involve a cardboard box - not exactly easy-to-wear at parties) when Harrison changed his mind to the definitely male SpiderMAN. Hmm. So, I think Harrison and I will go costume shopping today when I pick him up from school.

After I make that mammogram appointment, that is!

I Need to Leave My House

Well, for longer than ten minutes, that is. The good news: Hutton looks like he doesn't have chicken pox after all. His rash never developed into anything, and has pretty much faded. The sniffles he had have intensified into a lovely productive cough and head cold, though. Hutton hasn't been to school since Monday, and I have only left the house to take Harrison to school and pick him up.

I am very, very happy that Hutton doesn't have chicken pox, because if he did, I'd probably be stuck in the house with him for next week, too. Just four days of this makes me feel like I'm becoming ingrown into the couch.

Still in the Midst of My Existential Crisis

Well, it's mostly the day to day crap -- literal and figurative -- still getting me down.

Yesterday was actually pretty good. I got my tires all inflated without blowing myself up. Hutton had a school conference that didn't go too badly. I didn't find the missing lug nut key from my car, though. It wasn't in my car or in the parking lot of Fred Meyer on Thursday afternoon or Friday morning when I checked. Hubby came home from his trip last night in time to see the boys before bedtime.

Today is back to the crap. Hubby double-checked for the missing lug nut key. (My car wheels have a "special" anti-theft lug nut, which needs a special tool to remove it. You know, because my tires are always getting stolen when I'm running errands in the 'burbs. Anyway, the special tool got lost in the hubbub of my tire change the other day. It's possible the man who helped me change it put it in his pocket, or left it on the curb, etc. Who knows.) It's gone though, and Hubby was nice enough to point out when I asked if he had any luck finding it, "No, but I'm sure it will only cost $200 to replace it." Yes, Hubby, I always need to feel worse about my screw-ups.

So, he left to go get a new tool from the car dealership, and asked me to call for service to our microwave while he was gone. I just did that. They'll be out Tuesday, Nov. 27th sometime between 1 and 5, and will charge us $79.99 for the service call, not including what it costs to actually fix the microwave. Did I mention how much I love cooking the old-fashioned way? No? Wait, I don't like cooking the old-fashioned way. I don't like cooking at all, in fact. I just miss being able to heat up my coffee without running the risk of shattering my favorite mugs, or being able to get Hutton's special nitrate/nitrite free hotdogs cooked that much faster at lunch time. I don't feel like cooking for Thanksgiving as it is. This just cements it for me. I don't enjoy celebrating Thanksgiving with just immediate family. It doesn't feel like a real holiday to me unless there are other guests in the house. I love my kids and Hubby (sometimes), but don't really want to bust my butt all day making a meal that only two of us will possibly enjoy.

Sigh.

Hutton slid on the bathroom rug yesterday and hit his eye on the corner of the bathroom vanity, and now has a cut and partial black eye. At least that happened after his school conference, and since he doesn't have school next week, hopefully it will be healed before he goes back. Hopeful, yeah, that's me. Full of optimism and cheer.

Cabin Fever...and Poop

School was canceled again today. It snowed a bit. Just enough to add to the snow we already have and mess up the roads.

Hutton hasn't been in school since last Tuesday. He hasn't been in speech therapy since last Tuesday. He's had his AIT and ABA, but the rest of the time has been spent playing Cars on Xbox or watching Cars on DVD. Well, that and making sure there is a new train track layout in the playroom.

I'm feeling a bit stir crazy, but don't really want to go out if there's ice on the road. I'm a bad inexperienced ice/snow driver. As are most of the rest of the residents of the Puget Sound area, according to the wrecked cars on the sides of the roads we saw this weekend.

I really need to go to the grocery store, too. That's always so much more fun with both boys. Heavy sarcasm there. Hey, we still have dry pasta in the house, and frozen chicken. I'm sure Hubby would love to have yet another dinner of pasta, or some chicken with rice dish.

On the plus side, Sally has been peeing AND pooping outside! Yippee! We're still using a towel to help carry her, but she's supporting more of her weight now. This brings me to a "fun" story from this weekend, when Sally didn't pee or poop outside, but waited until coming back in out of the snow to do her business. Nothing too bad though. I was in the shower, so Hubby dealt with cleanup. Great. But then later Sunday I had a screaming tantrum little talk with Hubby about not putting dog poop in the Diaper Champ. [For the non-initiated, a Diaper Champ is a receptacle for dirty diapers that helps keep them from smelling up the house. We still keep ours in the garage, though because diaper pails smell once your child starts eating food. It involves placing a diaper in the top and flipping the handle, which causes the diaper to plummet into the trash bag below, without any further touching of the dirty diaper. Hey, I got it when Hutton was a baby, before I realized diaper pails are a waste of money and that it would be easier and less smelly to just put the diapers in a grocery bag then dump them in the outside trash can.]

Hubby and I don't see eye to eye on poop/Diaper Champ issues as it is. I always dump a poopy diaper in the toilet before putting it in the Champ. He always just shoves it in. And none-too-carefully I might add. I like to make sure NO POOP is anywhere on the outside of the Champ. Why? Not because I'm anal, but because having poop anywhere where I might come into contact with it on my clothes or bare hands is nasty, that's why!

~~~~~~~~~~TMI Time~~~~~~~~~
So, Sunday afternoon, Harrison had a particularly fun diaper, and after dumping it in the toilet, I wrapped it up carefully and took it out to the garage. I placed it in the top of the Champ, pressed down (if you don't press down, sometimes the previous diaper hasn't gone into the bag yet, so when you turn the handle, you're greeted by an old diaper), and turned the handle. Hmm. It was stuck. I decided to open the Champ to make sure it wasn't full.

Holy shit! What is that horrific smell? Why is there poop smeared all over the...Wait, is that a paper towel with...dog poop? Yep, Hubby had placed a paper-towel wrapped, big dog turd in the top of the Champ. Needless to say, when he flipped it, the paper towel got caught, and the doo did not stay wrapped in the paper towel, but smeared everything in it's vicinity. As I gagged and attempted to clean up most of the mess, my fury grew. After scrubbing my hands, I went upstairs to throw my hissy fit talk to Hubby. It seemed to work. Hubby "cleaned and refurbished" the Champ. It involved taking things apart and 20 minutes of cleaning.

Did I mention Sally's on antibiotics? Those do wonders for a dog's poop.

It's Thanksgiving Time

The week of Thanksgiving has arrived, and that means that Hutton has no school this week. I see a whole lot of TV and Wallace and Gromit playing on Xbox in our future. In fact, Hutton is playing Wallace and Gromit on Xbox as I type this. Oh well. I was a "good mom" for approximately 20 minutes earlier today, when I helped Hutton with his homework -- a page of writing out his name, a page of "color the things that start with G", and a page of cutting out the bees and pasting them on the corresponding number on the hive.

Twenty minutes. That's about right. I could never homeschool my kids, because I know that I can't come up with things to keep them busy for longer than 20 minutes (other than TV and video games, which I don't think count as "schooling"). Yesterday afternoon, I played games with the boys. We played the Oreo cookie game - Matching Middles, Don't Spill the Beans, and Barnyard Bingo before I was bored silly and Hutton had gone back upstairs to play Wallace and Gromit. Harrison would have been happy to play those exciting games for hours more, but I convinced him to let me read him some books instead.

Harrison is currently entertaining himself by putting all the train-related toys in the Thomas toy box. At least he's not doing what he did yesterday morning while I showered: putting every toy in the room, including puzzles, in a big pile in the corner. That's fun to clean up.

Gotta come up with something to do. Maybe lunch out and shopping. Get some more toy organizers and let Harrison go crazy. Maybe some more challenging games, too. Like Candy Land. Don't think the boys are ready for chess just yet. It's not raining, so the park is always an option, too.

We can go to the movies this week, too. Flushed Away and Happy Feet would probably be entertaining for the boys. Don't think they'll go for Casino Royale. Darn. Mommy could use some Casino Royale.