The Bird is the Word

Wow, it's been a long time since I've been on an actual computer to blog. Hell, it's been a long time since something has come around to actually blog about. I lead a fairly boring life, ya?

I don't know how everyone elses Thanksgiving was, but ours was pretty uneventful up until after dinner. We had the usual, gobble gobble, mashed taters, green bean casserole, stuffing, gravy, you get the idea. Pepper, our Double Yellow Headed Amazon parrot was needing some fresh air after being cooped up in the apartment smelling his cousin cooking all day, so we placed him outside our second story front porch, in his cage. He wasn't out there but 10 min before I mentioned to my hubs that I heard someone coming up the stairs (we currently don't have neighbors next to us and we don't have friends here to visit us). I said Pepper is still out there. Hubs opened the door, and sure enough, Pepper, cage and all, was gone. Hubs leaped and bounded like a super hero after the robbers (and I'll be using "robbers" since "thieves" seems petty when you are dealing with a family pet/member and it's being considered Grand Theft, a felony right now). Hubs was able to get Pepper and his cage out of the back seat of the vehicle (yes, the &^$^%#$%$^&'s were REALLY taking him!) Pepper escaped and flew off when his cage hit the ground. Hubs was assaulted by three hispanic males that frequent the apartment directly across from us. He took down two (yay, go Hubs!) and the third kinda did him in. They left (keep in mind there was a BABY in the back seat of this car and a woman in the front as well) police were called, I thought they had Pepper the whole time when I came down and saw the mess and the broken cage. I freaked out and discovered my asthma really ISN'T gone. I went back to the apartment and cried, almost threw up, you get the idea that I was a mess. Then poor hubs went out to see if he could find Pepper. I had no idea Pepper had flown off... But in the end, we got him back!

I still can't believe this happened. I really don't feel safe here at all anymore, not that I truely felt safe in these apartments to begin with. We are getting a new deadbolt and front door handle, one that will hopefully look more intimidating and less easy to pick in case those &&#%%$&^#'s come back.

I also keep a look out for the sedan these guys were driving and the apartment they go to, hoping to see them so we can get the police out here to arrest their asses.

Frankly, I would like to have seen them try to get Pepper out of his cage. He won't let anyone but my hubs or his father handle him. He would have chewed their hand off, for sure! Idiots. I'm pretty positive they don't even know what he needs to eat and what could kill him either. Careless bastards.

Here's the link to a very tiny, very local tv station out here with Pepper~~ about 10-15 min in... Tiffany the blonde is reporting :)
http://www.tv2klbc.com/morningShowTapedT.html

I just about cut my finger in half

Literally. Or more like almost cut off in a really ridiculous way.
Like reaching into my sewing box and slicing through the top like a hot knife in butter.
Totally unexpected. Totally pissed me off too, since now I can't even knit.
Lesson learned today? Throw away your rotary cutters. They will jump out and attack you, unprovoked.
And I'm pretty sure I'll need a couple shots from the doc since this blade is pretty sketchy looking.

This? This Made My Day.

For those of you out there in internet land, my birthday is coming up on the 4th.
No this isn't an evil ploy to get massive amounts of gifts or well-wishes. But I did get a super card in the mail yesterday from a friend that I haven't been the greatest friend to, but am planning on changing that.

We've known each other since junior high and have recently reconnected via Facebook. And am I ever so grateful for that?
Hell to the yes.
But back to my smile? This is it...

You see the "Smile"? Yeah, I thought NO ONE remembered how to do the diamond "s" anymore!

Needless to say, Lisa is a dear friend and I can only hope to be such a good friend to her as well.

Laund-ro-mania 2 AKA The Claaaawwww...

O. M. G.
Again at the laundromat (yes I *have* done laundry since my last posting) with Creepy-attendant-dude here yet again.
It's really a lovely little joint if you look past the fact that most of the machines are broken. Ironically there is a *flat screen* tv here. Flat. Screen. Mounted on the wall, flat screen.
Then there's the claw machine.
The Claaawwwww...
The signage clearly states it is out of order. But I think otherwise. It's haunted. Very. The claaaawwww moves on its own. Attempting to grab any unsuspecting tiny toy that has cruelly been abandoned. Gah! Thank goodness I only have 15 more minutes on the dryers our I may run, screaming outta here!

Farming with my Gnomies

Amidst chasing down my now very-mobile 6 month old and keeping my 2 year old in line I have been able to knit.
Knit tiny things.
Because tiny things take tiny amounts of time.
I found a really great tiny pig pattern here and made up my own elephant pattern after scouting for the *perfect* pattern.

I'm also going to start a scrap yo-yo crochet afghan project in the near future... Stay tuned! Oh, and if any of y'all have any spare yarn you'd like to donate to this project, I won't object. At all. For anything.

On a side note, I've been spending time here confessing my deepest thoughts that I won't even write here, let alone Facebook or Twitter. Because between you, me, and tiny pink elephant, I'd probably piss off *a lot* of people. A lot. So, thank you Jill ( @scarymommy ) for letting me vent in anonymity! Betcha can't guess which ones are mine...
*hint* one involves boogers...

My baby is TWO!

Happy birthday to my beautiful Emma! Now if you'd just start fully talking instead of babbling, life would be perfect...

Gnome Pimping?

After scouring the web for patterns for the last month and a half I took matters into my own hand. This is my very FIRST pattern written by me going off of various pictures... Whew.
Now this does resemble other traveling gnomes, mostly like my favorite knitter/toy-maker/awesomist gal Anna Hrachovec from Mochimochi Land . But to be clear, no, I did not purchase this pattern, nor did i copy/thief/steal her pattern from someone. I simply knitted from looking at various pictures between those on her blog, various random gnomes found on the web and from my head. So, Anna, if you are reading this and are mad, I'm sorry and I'll purchase your pattern! And to be clear, NO, I'm not selling these lil fellers...
I don't believe in pimping out my gnomes...

Feller on the right, whom is looking a bit pale as he's been vacationing in Alaska for the last few months. Don't mention is short stature, he's a bit sensitive.
And yes, that's an itty bitty wittle chikin.
They're ranchers by trade now...

Laundr-O-Mania!

After spending countless hours at various laundromats in my time I can say one thing is clear, I'll never be completely comfortable washing my clothes where strangers have.
Who's to know what nastiness has washed off others' clothes and lingers for mine to touch, swirl, spin and cling to.
Case in point, the random yellowish stains that ostentatiously showed up on my clothes tonight. Pissed? Yes. Kinda grossed out? You betcha. At least I know it isn't contagious since they were dried at HIGH heat for 40 min. *shudder*
Then there's always the creepy attendant. Randomly walking past you, seeing what you've got going on. In my case, knitting. I've got two (well four) needles, you've got two eyes. Coincidence? I think not. And next time you check out my ass as I'm pulling clothes out of the washer/dryer/whatever, said needles will find their way to you... *insert evil laugh and clasped hands* Take that Creepy-Attendant-Dude.
Oh, shall we discuss the unknown discolorations on the folding tables?
Or perhaps the smell that you just can't quite place?
Or even the... wait. Hold on. I think I'm even too icked out now to go back.
Sigh.
But I have to next week.
Until we meet again Creepy-Laundr-O-Mat-Attendant-Dude.

Hubs Just Asked Me...

"What are you blogging and bitching about me now??"
Then conveniently leans in, ever so gently, and reads above line.
Twice.
Apparently he thinks I need another hobby.
After months of not writing, I missed it. Terribly.
I may not write every day, but I am making it my goal to get three posts in a week. Big goal? Not so much. Big enough goal for a Stay At Home Mom with an almost 2 year old and an almost 6 month old? Oh hell yes.
I know I won't have long, inclusive, in-depth, posts, but I'll be damned to at least get a small smile from each of my readers. However small and select they are... You know I love every one of you!

Epic. Fail.

So I epically failed. Failed to make time to write. Until now... dun dun dunnnnnn...

Let's see. What's happened since you last heard from me March 1?? Okay, sit down, shut up, and HOLD ON!

We moved from Oklahoma back to Washington state shortly after my last posting.
Stayed at my dad's house and at my SIL's house, back and forth, back and forth for about 3 weeks (and 4 hours drive between the two) until we found a house in Sequim. Pronounced S-Kwim. Not See-kwim. Or see-kwim-run... see-kwim-fall... you get the picture.
Come June, after struggling and stressing, we were forced to move. Again. To Arizona. 
So this is where we reside now. And hopefully forever.
Keep in mind ALL (save for what we could cram in a tow trailer) is STILL in Oklahoma. That's right. Two effing states away.
So we are sleeping on the floor. We meaning my husband and I. The girls have cribs... I made sure to pack their stuff first. Although, in hindsight, I wish I would have "known" we would be without this long and packed more stuff for Abby. Growing like a weed. A long, skinny, loud, weed.
I swear we can rival any Gypsy or Military family when it comes to packing and un-hoarding possessions. Really.
But there is a light at the end of this long, bitter tunnel. HOPEFULLY we can get our things by the beginning of August. Hopefully. Fingers crossed. Toes crossed. Eyes crossed.... ouch, not so much the eyes. Makes it hard to type.
All in all I think we've come out pretty ok. Still married, still alive. That counts right?
So as I sit here on the floor, I'd like to simply say, "HOLY MOTHER #($&#**#Q($()*&@*(&*#(&!!!" There. I feel better.
So stay tuned, I plan on writing a lot more. A lot. Like maybe everyday? And I've even installed the app on my phone so I can blog on the go! Yessiree, I'm with the times. Mmmhmmm.

Holy Hannah! What a Whirlwind!

Well,  my first attempt at blogging post baby is FINALLY coming to a reality.
Oy vey.
At this moment, knock on wood, BOTH (yes, BOTH) girls are being quiet, peaceful, and quite possibly sleeping. GASP!
And as I typed that the newborn just stirred. Dangit.
Well so far I've had the sad, horrible, reality of sleep deprivation smacked back in my face like a runaway train. It sucks, just to let you know.
As a matter of fact, I slept in the guest/baby room last night with the baby in my arms all friggin night. Because, golly forbid, she sleep in the swing, or bouncer, or even in her bassinet. By. Her. Self.
To make matters worse, she has GERD (GastroEsophogeal Reflux Disorder) just like her big sister did, except worse. It's a real bitch.
And while I'm thinking about it, Fisher Price really needs to look into extending the timed noise maker on their swings. 15 minutes just doesn't cut it guys. If you could make it 15 hours, now, I'd buy stock in your company. But until then I'm investing in a time machine. And unicorn pixie dust.
For those that follow me on Twitter (and if you don't you TOTALLY should, I'm just saying...) noticed my MIL was in town to assist with my now chaotic lifestyle. Kudos for her in helping out, but I think both parties will agree 3 weeks is a bit too much for anyone. And the fact she confessed she likes Yanni. Yes, YANNI. I contemplated disowning her on the spot, but she was holding my child.
Aaaannnnnnddddd the baby isn't staying asleep/quiet/content.
Crap.
Guess I'm cutting this entry short. Very short.
I promise I'll get the hang of this soon and be a bit more regular about writing!!!
Toodles Shnoodles.

She's Here!

M Kay. After being up all night with contractions and being put down by Nazi Bitch Nurse on the phone, at 1:03 pm we became parents to Abigail Lynn. Weighing in at 7 lbs 7 oz, 19 in long with HAIR! Emma didn't have hair. She had a mullet. Reminiscent of The Vandals song "I've got an Ape Drape"... Abby is LOUD. And has a birth mark between her eyes resembling an inverted hand... aka strawberry patch. Morphine is itchy and spinal has started to wear off... owwwwch. Can you tell i had contractions all night and slept only 2 hours plus am drugged up??? Can ya? Can ya?...okay. Time to go. Getting more drugs to cut the barfy feeling and the pain...
To be continued.

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T-Minus 21.5 Hours

In 21.5 hours, we'll be parents again! And I have to stop eating AND drinking ANYTHING after midnight... Do they realize that's 12 HOURS of NOTHING?
Evil. Simply evil.
But what the medical personnel don't realize is I used to work in the field scheduling peeps that had to fast... in reality, I can get away with beginning my fasting at 3 am.
Suckers.
And after giving it some serious thought, I'm gonna blog RIGHT after... Call it an experiment in blogging, AKA drunk on morphine and an epidural blogging. From my phone. It should be interesting to say the least.
I may even add a video. Maybe.
FYI, Hell froze over. Literally.
It was -19* yesterday. In Oklahoma.
Guess what it's supposed to be next Thursday?
56*.
Stupid weather.
Plus we had 3-4' snow drifts. This was all enough to shut down the entire state. For two days.
We went shopping today and laughed at the poor saps that were stuck in the snow. And yelled at the ones tail-gating. They really don't know how to drive out here. Really don't. *Sigh*
Moving on...
Did I mention Abigail will be here around 12:30 pm tomorrow???? Did I??? *Doing the happy dance*

9 days and counting

Nine more days and we get to meet our little Abigail. That is, if she opts to stay put that long. She better. Or she's grounded until she's 50. I'm just sayin'. Translation = I'm not ready to have her yet.
I've managed to finish the two newborn hats I made for her. Now I'm working on a cocoon (or sleep sack) for her. I've got to get through all my yarn some how! I would post pictures, but my camera has been packed away in my hospital bag, which is in the back of our rig. Soooo... you'll just have to imagine the pure awesomeness of them.
I've been waking up about every 30-90 minutes at night. It's really beginning to wear on me. And my attitude. And appearance. Let's just say I've got some pretty awesome bags under my eyes, am make-up-less almost exclusively and Abigail has dropped so low that even a "large" maternity shirt that is extra long still doesn't quite cover it all. Yeah, I'm ready. But not ready at the same time. Evil conundrum I'm in. Evil.
And I've come to the conclusion I'll be blogging right after the birth. It should be funny, or slightly entertaining, or simply resemble a drunken-blogging moment. Either way, whatever I have to say on Morphine and an epidural should be mildly worth reading. I hope. Let us just say it'll be an experiment in blogging.
I'm going to cut it short here as my mind is mush from lack of sleep and I need to attend to the finishing of my knitting. Plus my 17 month old is reverting to some old ways and today is a "binky day". I'm not even going to argue with the binky removal today. Not worth the battle.
FYI from here on out, I'll TRY to get a blog in at least every week, but I make no promises.

What To Do, What To Do... AKA Works in Progress

I knit. I love to knit. Knitting is my favorite.
Oh, and smiling. Smiling is my favorite too.
But back to knitting.

I'm up to my much-needed-to-be-plucked eyebrows in projects, ideas and yarn. Lots of yarn. As my husband puts it, crap full of yarn. Really it's only one 18 gallon tub of the stuff, but he's a guy, and they just don't get it.

 

 I've been crocheting too. Lots and lots (well to me who is attempting them in between pokes and whines from Emma) of Valentines hearts. In bright, obnoxiously red, red, Red Heart yarn. I've been meaning to find a way to use it up, now I've got a mission. All of these hearts will become a Valentine's Day bunting that will definitely annoy the hell out of my husband. Mission accomplished. 

I've finally finished the newborn hat for our little bundle of joy, set to arrive Feb. 3rd. When I say "finished" I truly mean I've knitted the piece, just haven't affixed all the adornments on it... Alpaca yarn. Superfine. AKA a real bitch to knit/crochet with, but very fun to feel!

And then there's three skeins of really great yarn, but I'm at a loss as to what to do with them. 

So many possibilities for these babies, so many. The first two were a Christmas present from a dear friend who knows me all too well (Thanks again Laura!!!!) And the third is from my MIL (whom also sent me bamboo yarn and the alpaca yarn) just cuz.

Then there's the scraps of yarn. The left overs that I keep because I can't justify throwing out perfectly good portions of yarn after finishing a project. 

These already are in knitting motion. They are being transformed into these super cute pigeons  

that my Emma is in love with. They will be a project for her room... bird haven. Eventually I'd like to get a couple small antique bird cages to place a couple in. The others will "fly" free in her room.

And last, but not least *insert drum roll please* we have elephants. Made from fabric. (Thanks Captain Obvious, my hubby).

These will be made into a small bunting for Baby #2's crib/co-sleeper/whatever I feel like. The pattern came from my mom, who sent me the original instead of a copy. I suppose she's done making them? 

Well, there you have it. My WIPs (Works in Progress). Now, if I can just finish these in the next two weeks, my life will be grand!

Obsessively Grammatical Correctness Can Kill

For as long as I can remember I've been obsessively grammatically correct. I strive for this perfection and abuse the power of spell-check. Others, however, not so much.
Granted, I've been taught APA, AP, BS, CRAP, and all sorts of interesting ways that are the "correct" way to write a paper. I've conformed to the instructors' wishes, reluctantly, trudging and counting each space, word, alphanumeric capitalization, you name it.
My biggest and most obvious pet peeve is how certain things are spoken/typed/portrayed in an incredibly inaccurate manner.
Take my mother. Love her, don't get me wrong, but her linguistic skills are severely lacking in some areas. And she's a teacher. (K-2, special education, but still) Her favorite word is like nails on a chalkboard to me. Unrelentlessly. It simply does not exist. No spell-check on Earth recognizes it. You have the choice of: unrelenting(ly), relentlessness, relentlessly. You get the idea. If you break down the word, it's really a double negative (also a pet peeve of mine)... I've corrected her for at least the last 20 years to no avail. *Sigh*
She also enjoys butchering medical terms... Like Urologist. It magically transforms to Urinologist. I correct her on this too, also to no avail. *Double sigh*
But enough on my mom. Let's pick on some others...
Thanks to the new digital age, evry1 (<--- this friggin' word PASSED spell-check by the way) compacts their words to conserve their 140 character limits. And it's showing up everywhere.
I get emails (they have become a very lazy means of communication) constantly from relatives with gross errors. Substituting know for no, now for no, tho for though, thru for threw or through, are for our, their for they're. You get the idea.
My husband is supremely guilty of this. As are some members of his family... I find myself spell-checking all his out-going mail for him, hovering like a vulture over his shoulder, pointing out each error... I'm a nag, what can I say.
Then there's those individuals that abuse the power of the Shift key. Like TYPING IN ALL CAPS, or adding an exclamation point to the end of! each! sentence! 
Can't stand it, I tell you, can't stand it.
It's like the ALL CAPS person in chronically yelling at me. I shrink in my seat and avert my eyes whilst reading it. Or the exclamation! person! is! overtly! ecstatic! over! everything!
It gets overwhelming. Very.
There was just recently an article articulating the geographical differences between people that tweet. "Sumtin" versus "Summthin" etc. Of course, there have always been geographical markers for certain parts of the English-speaking world. Theatre versus theater. Color versus colour.
I've also have had certain ways to spell or speak drilled in my brain. Take spelling together. Break it down to to-get-her. Or you always say zero for the number, not oh. That little diddy would literally cost me money each time I slipped up. My former boss got rich, quick.
However, I've succeeded this far with typing the way I speak, thankyouverymuch. Accomplishing all this with two collegiate degrees under my Belt of Invisibility.

The Crap They Don't Tell You About Pregnancy

Some of the following was advice given to me in warning while pregnant, but not in the magnitude in which one gets to suffer thru it!

You fart.
A lot.
You fart while standing, sitting, getting up, kneeling, sneezing, walking, and sleeping. You can't escape it, yet it loves to escape you in the most inopportune times.

Your nose no longer works.
You smell phantom stenches... the one that seems to follow me every where is cat poo or pee. E.V.E.R.Y.W.H.E.R.E. And we don't even own a cat. Some raunchy smells you seem to pass over in oblivion. Like your farts.
And your nose gets wider. I blame the snoring strips my hubs begs me to wear at night.
You snore. Like it or not, you've been blessed with it. You snore because your nose is stuffy from being oblivious to your farts.

What you once used to eat in pure joy now gives you pure heartburn. Aka hell. And your tastes have done a 180* flip. What you used to love, you now hate and vice versa. My cravings during the first pregnancy were bizarre. Lemon juice. Loved it. I would take shots of it everyday. And a bowl of peanut butter sprinkled with Cheerios. Now I think of either I want to barf.

If you still have kids in diapers or have to change diapers in general it sucks even more than before. Barf.

To the women whom think labor is beautiful or enlightening, you are wrong, so very, very wrong. I labored for 35 effing hours before they figured out my little bundle of joy was heads up, ass down. Then I get the pleasure of having a c-section, which means I now have to have another c-section in a month.

You don't get stretch marks, you get stretch road maps. Mine is of Rhode Island.

Your bra size can increase up to and beyond FOUR sizes. There is no va va va voom to them. More like, "Crap? Who makes a 34 DD or 36 E?" No one, by the way. Unless you want to pay over $50 for a bra you get to use only a year.

Your belly is a target for talk, and touching.
You are told you are too big/small/wide/lopsided/high/low.
"Are you carrying twins???"
"Nope."
"Are you SURE??"
"Yes, Baby A already ate Baby B..."

You pee.
You pee when you sneeze, cough, laugh, or even talk.
Kegels are a waste of time.

Maternity clothes are definitely not great by month 8. The shirts no longer cover the belly, you are lucky to get it past your belly button (or what was once your belly button). Elastic pants cut off circulation.
Or the pants split in the ass, like what happened to me this morning. Nothing is off limits to your every-widening ass.

Kankles. Every woman gets them. Like it or not, your ankles have disappeared into oblivion.

You no longer walk, you waddle. If you play your cards right, you can get the sympathy nods and most will get out of your way. Most. There are those few (all seemingly reside in Oklahoma) that seem to find your belly is fun to bump. I compare it to adolescent boys "accidentally" bumping into your breasts.

I'm pretty positive I've left off a few (hundred) things... But these are the most potent in memory.

And yes, I love my first, and will love my second just as much...

Gaggle of Giggles

We have a neighborhood pond with a resident white domestic goose and duck, and various mallard couples. Now, the white goose is pretty much an asshole. And that's being polite about it. We've tried to feed them. Emphasis on try. He charges right up to you, hissing and snipping away until you give him food. Jerk literally kicks the other ducks out of the way. We've always thought negatively about him until recently...

With winter upon us, we have quite a lot of visitors from up north. Canadian Geese to be exact. And I do mean a lot. You see them all over Oklahoma City and outlying areas, including our pond. Remember Jerk Goose?

He has taken over as the pond's official host, leading the visitors to different lawns to find food...

He leads his new found friends from the pond, down the street, all forming a single file to forage. He waits until they have had their fill and leads them back, all the while acting as a proper host, trying to keep them from walking on the road as much as possible.

I think I've changed my outlook on him, for a while at least...

Hello 2011... Nice to Meet You

2011... We rang you in, asleep.
Yep. Asleep.
I feel old! Can't even hang until midnight these days.
Ugh.
Although I'm pleased to announce I am no longer making New Years Resolutions. No need to be let down and depressed I didn't exercise as often as I told myself I would. No need to set myself up for failure again, another year in a row.
I think all people should take on this philosophy. We'd be a happier society.
Even though I don't have resolutions to abandon by the beginning of March, I do have a HUMONGOUS list of "projects". And it's a long 'un:

• Finish my 'nesting' and make room for MIL to stay in the extra bedroom... Nothing say's "Welcome to our home" like having to clear a bunch of crap (as hubs would say) off the bed just to sit.
• Pack, pack, pack, pack. Pacific Northwest, we're coming home! Gooooodddbyyeeee Oklahoma, not so nice knowin' ya.
• Declutter. Even more. Last time it took up BOTH garbage bins. Let's see if we can accomplish that again, shall we?
• Knit, knit, knit, and knit some more, even crochet some. I have two 2" binders jam packed FULL of potential projects, with even more bookmarked on my computer. 


• Hats to sell
• Hair clips to glue and burn my already beat-to-hell hands
• The obvious need to KNIT said hats to sell
• Start and FINISH DD#2's fleece blanket 
• Build my Etsy page. I've been wanting to do this for over a year now... I think it's high time to get it done.

• With this, I could expand my commissioned photo prop hats past my one and only customer....

And this is all I could come up with in the last 10 minutes. Trust me, there's more!!!!
Oh, and I have approximately a MONTH to do some of this before DD#2 "Abigail" is born. Crap.