DISAPPOINTMENT IS:

when you put you frozen dinner in the microwave and you think you hit start but then the phone rings and someone distracts you for 15 minutes asking why their daughter got arrested and then you go back to the microwave expecting warm noodley goodness and instead you have FROZEN SLUDGE. that is disappointment and that is all...

Assassination at the coke machine...

One of my duties for the next two days is running the control board that opens the electronic doors to let people in and out of the detention center and jail. Coming from the lobby to the detention center you have to pass through one door, then a sallyport that has a lockbox for weapons, then another door.

All officers are to leave their guns in the lockbox because no guns are allowed in the jail for obvious reasons.

So here's the interesting part: EVERY SINGLE TIME an officer leaves the detention center he feels the need to strap on his gun. I see it happen. Sometimes he's back in like 45 seconds (asking for me to open the freakin door again) so I can only assume he's going to the coke machine.

I know that being a law enforcement officer is exciting. It's a job that should come with respect and absolute responsibility. I realize that carrying a firearm is part of that responsibility but HOW MANY PEOPLE DO YOU PLAN TO SHOOT AT THE COKE MACHINE?! Seriously? REally? Do you expect there to be a revolt in the lobby? A gunfight so fierce that started over the last diet coke? Really?!

WHEN IT WENT FROM BAD TO WORSE...

So Monday night we stayed with my mother in law which is never the most comfortable thing because while there I sleep on a love seat. Now I know what you're thinking "um isn't a love seat those little tiny couches that are like 2 feet long?" And yes, you would be correct on that but it's not really horrible because generally I curl up in a ball to sleep anyway. So normally I sleep on the love seat and Cooper sleeps in a portable crib beside me. Craig sleeps on the big couch because he's a whiner and always goes to bed first.


Well on Monday the portable crib wasn't there because someone needed it for her second SURPRISE illegitimate grandchild. (That's another story for another time).


So Joann's like "why don't you sleep on the couch with Cooper?" Ummmm yeah I don't know because maybe my butt is as friggin wide as the f-ing love seat to begin with so I fear there would be NO ROOM LEFT FOR COOPER. And by the way thanks for the heads up that the crib was no longer at your house BEFORE I left my house (which has both a bed AND a crib).


So me and Coop ended up on the floor because OH YEAH Craig had been asleep on the big couch, for I don't know, HOURS. Joann was kind enough to make us a "pallet" so I mean, what else could I ask for? So we lay down and it's all I don't know, 1000 degrees in her house so I turn two (2!) fans on in the hope that we don't spontaneously combust during the night. It was so hot at one point all I could think about was taking my pants off. And nothing says parenting at it's best than laying pantless on a pallet with your baby.

Maybe it was because we weren't at home, maybe it was because we weren't surrounded by cats and MAYBE it was because we were laying on a f-ing hard wood floor but whatever the case Cooper would not go to sleep. He was completely restless. He would thrash and kick and roll and this was completely unfortunate because every time he rolled he rolled into the wooden coffee table and every time he thrashed he managed to hit his head on the hard wood floor and every time he kicked he managed to freakin kick me.

I've always heard of people complaining about their kid moving around so much while sleeping and how they can't stand that and I've always been like I love it when Cooper moves, just one more indication that he's breathing and okay, well now I get it, NOW I FRIGGIN GET IT. It is not fun to be kicked in the head while trying to sleep.

So we made it through the night and I have never been so glad to get up early and go to the dentist because that just means that someone is probing in my mouth and causing me great pain and that indicates that the night is over and anything is better than laying pantless on hard wood while being kicked in the head.

the one where i die a little on the inside

Yeah so ummm....yeah...

Cooper last night you pretty much broke your mommy's heart and then took the pieces and then you just stomped on them with your tiny baby feet.

We went to karate with your daddy and ms. karen was there and so you reached for her. Okay no big deal, so you wanted to tell her hey. I didn't panick. I felt a twinge of jealousy but it passed.

So then when she was ready to leave she handed you back to me AND YOU CRIED. While she was placing you (MY BABY) into my arms (me, THE ONE WHO CARRIED YOU FOR ALL OF NINE MONTHS), you cried and you reached back for her and THEN, RIGHT THERE, you took my will to live and crushed it and pretty much kicked my soul.

I mean when you're reading this years down the road don't feel bad or anything...don't feel bad that I did my best to give you all the good things in life...yummy moo, nice toys and all the cats you could ever hope for...and what you did to thank me was crush me a little on the inside...

I love you anyway my little sweet potato!

love,
your (one and only) mommy

INTERVIEW WITH GOD

okay you must, must MUST watch this...you will not be dissapointed...
click on the link, then choose "watch presentation"...ENJOY!

http://www.theinterviewwithgod.com/

A Sliver of Chance for Life on Mars REALLY?! SERIOUSLY?!

"A Sliver of Chance for Life on Mars" This was the title to one of the featured news stories on yahoo today. The article goes on to say that because at night a PHENOMENON happens when some of the water vapor in the atmosphere evaporates and creates dew...DEW...and apparently this means at one time this "dew" could have supported life in a martian climate.

You know what? I couldn't give a TINY RAT'S DO-DO MAKER (thank you elliot) if there is life on mars, if there WAS life on mars of even if there is going to be life on mars eventually. What pisses me off is that there is PLENTY OF LIFE ON EARTH AND THEY'RE STARVING!

Nasa has spent almost a year on this mars/dew theory.

They have a special instrument they've been using: (see quote from article):
[The TECP "was like the Swiss army knife of instruments," says Aaron Zent of NASA Ames Research Center. It was equipped with a four-pronged fork that could be stuck into the ground to measure soil moisture and temperature. It also had a sensor for relative humidity.]

Hell, couldn't they have just stuck their hand in the soil to see if it was wet or not?

I won't harp on my opinions of the wasted money going to the space program but I will leave you with this note:

NEXT TIME INSTEAD OF SPENDING A YEAR, CREATING SPECIAL INSTRUMENTS AND WASTING BILLIONS OF DOLLARS TO COME WITH A CONCLUSION AS GOOD AS "A SLIVER OF CHANCE FOR LIFE ON MARS" HOW ABOUT WE TAKE THAT MONEY, THAT KNOWLEDGE AND THAT WORK FORCE AND USE IT TOWARD:

~FEEDING THE HUNGRY CHILDREN? WHAT IF WE WENT TO BED AT NIGHT AND KNEW EVERYONE WAS AS FULL AS WE WERE?

~HOW ABOUT WE REBUILD HOMES AND HABITATS. WHAT IF "THE HOMELESS" BECAME THE NEWEST ENDANGERED SPECIES BECAUSE THEY FOUND HOMES?

~WHAT IF WE USED MIGHTY RESOURCES AND CREATED JOBS FOR THE UNEMPLOYED. WHAT IF WE HAD TO COME UP WITH NEW JOBS FOR THE UNEMPLOYMENT OFFICE WORKERS?

~WHAT IF WE CONCENTRATED ON WORKING TOWARD A SOLUTION TO FERTILITY AND ABORTION...WHAT IF WE DISCOVERED A WAY TO TAKE AN ALREADY IMPLANTED EMBRYO OUT OF A WOMAN WHO DOESN'T WANT IT AND PUT IT INTO A WOMAN DESPERATE FOR A CHILD? HOW MANY WOMEN WOULD BE WILLING TO DO THIS INSTEAD OF DESTROYING HUMAN LIFE? HOW MANY LIVES WOULD IT SAVE?

I don't know if there was ever life on mars. I know there's life on earth. Precious life that is too easily discarded, so...."sliver of chance"...how about a new title "LIFE ON EARTH? YOU BETCHA!"

standing...

So now you can stand up! You STAND on your VERY OWN TWO LEGS. Standing Up.

On valentine's day you crawled (really crawled) for the first time. Then we took you home and I put you in a rubbermaid container (sounds cruel but you love it), and OBVIOUSLY I don't put the lid on it.

Anyway so I put you in this box and give you some toys and go about making dinner. I glance over and FRICKY FRICK, YOU'RE STANDING UP! I was like, "OH MY GOSH, COOPER YOU'RE STANDING UP." You gave me a look like, "yeah..." So I figure it's this freak thing (because who would guess that the same day that you crawled would also be the day you started all freakin walking around?) So anyway I set you back down and you're all like, "OH NO, YOU DIDN'T" So I turn around to look at supper again and as fast as I can turn around you're standing again! You pudgy little hands are curled around the top of the container and your chubby legs are ridgidly standing in triumph and you're peering over the side of the box, looking at the world below.

This happens like I don't know, FOURTEEN MILLION times and even though I am truly excited and gleeful I have a realization: you are no longer containable...there is no where that I can put you and then expect you to be when I come back.

Your very own journey has now began...

another reason why i'm glad i have cats

(The characters named in this story are in fact real, not fictional but their names have been changed to protect privacy and pride...)

Among reasons like curling up on my feet while i sleep and sweetly nuzzling my neck the NUMBER ONE, ABSOLUTE NUMERO UNO REASON that im glad I have cats is the fact that they do NOT eat their own or anyone else's poo...

I wasn't sure what to blog about today but then I read "gretta's" blog about how her adorable tiny puppy "bess" has taken to eating her own poop...

Now I'll admit I'm not a dog person...well that's not entirely true, I love all things furry and loveable BUT I am much, much more of a CAT PERSON...I've even been referred to as the Crazy Cat Lady...but anyway I mean seriously WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL EATS THEIR OWN POO? Certainly not cats...I think if it was up to cats they wouldn't even poo...they're JUST THAT CLEAN. They would rather hold it in and be miserable than do something as disgusting as actually expelling it from their tiny bodies...and then there's dogs...dogs who not only enjoy pooing and peeing all over the blasted place, right there in the open in front of God and everyone but then sometimes they roll around in it and I've just learned that sometimes they EAT IT.

IT'S. A. PILE. OF. POO.


People, wake up and realize that cats rule.

PACI'S, THUMBS AND DOOBIES

Okay so most parents try to discourage their babies from dependencies like thumb sucking and pacifiers and later on in life drug usage. Now I'm not saying that I would approve of him lighting up a doobie but I have to say that I am thrilled to see that maybe Cooper might be a thumb sucker. I mean as I watched him lay in his bed, his thumb in his mouth, his face a look of peaceful content I had thoughts of how very much I LOVE THIS KID and MY GOSH, HE IS THE CUTEST BABY EVER and OTHER SHOUTED THOUGHTS of this nature...

Who doesn't think a baby with a thumb is adorable? Possibly the most adorable sight ever...put a fluffy kitten in his lap and there would be no doubt.

Thumb sucking is not only marvelously cute but also very practical. I mean you always have your thumb. Even if there is no "moo" there is a thumb. Even if the paci has dropped in the floor there is thumb. ALL THROUGH YOUR LIFE THERE IS THUMB. And I can't chastise thumb suckers because I'm a nail bitter. And I don't apologize for that. It provides great comfort. When I'm upset I bite. When I'm nervous I bite. Also when I'm excited, bored and feeling pretty much in other emotion I bite. I don't smoke, I don't drink and of all the vices to have nail biting (or thumb sucking), is pretty mild.

So this morning Cooper was a little cranky having to be woken up and dragged out of bed and put into a cold carseat. I handed him a paci (something he hasn't had in months), not from lack of trying, he just doesn't seem all that interested. So this morning I give him the paci and he sucks for a minute, then takes it out of his mouth and examines it, chews on the side a little then proceeds to put it back in his mouth with his thumb stuck in the hole of the paci, essentially sucking his paci AND his thumb simultaneously...and then, at that very moment, my heart exploded into a million happy pieces from the sheer volume of ADORABLENESS...

THE ONE *almost* titled "THE ONE where shannon says SCREW IT ALL"

When people ask me if it's tough being the black sheep in a SEA OF PURE WHITE i just want to say..."no...it's comforting actually"

THE ONE in which you find us all in snotty heap...dead.

So Cooper has RSV...sucks majorly. He also has an ear infection in BOTH count em BOTH ears! (According to my grandma, this is all my fault because I let him run around naked, ie: fully clothed minus the socks...) And I want to be all like, "grandma I don't think I'm the problem, the infection is in his ears NOT HIS FEET." If he had contracted gan-green then SURE I might take the fall for that one...but this, I'm not going down for.


Anyway so he's pretty miserable but THANK THE GOOD LORD IN HEAVEN much, much better than at the first of the week. He gets a breathing treatment three times a day and an antibiotic twice a day and we suction his nose as often as we feel like taking our lives in our own hands because seriously have you ever tried to stick something up the nose of a very strong octopus? Have you?

So I am thrilled and thankful that he is on the road to recovery and I have to give a shout out to Craig (my house husband as of this week), who has taken care of Cooper the majority of the time. Him and my mom took him to the doctor. Craig picked up the meds. Craig has given him all the breathing treatments and the antibiotic too for that matter. And he's also been the chief bottle maker (and dish washer), HOW LUCKY AM I?!

The reason Craig has taken so much responsibility is that my job has required me to be here this week. We have a new sheriff and administration taking over and the chaos is imminent and frowned upon if missed by any employee. Yay me, barrel full of fun...

So about that snot. I'm pretty sure I'm getting sick. I guess I have the adult version (aka: much milder) of RSV. I'm sniffing, coughing, wheezing, all cold symptoms apply. Granted I would much rather be sick than Cooper and if I could take this illness from him I would, however nature had a different approach in mind. Nature feels that if one in your herd gets sick that the whole herd is condemned and then it does it's best to weed out the weak ones from the pack. Currently nature is trying to wipe the Sexton's off the map...


As of now Craig is not sick....I'm holding my breath but...Craig has the immune system of a half dead donkey...seriously, he usually catches whatever is going around. I attribute him not getting sick thus far as nothing but the Sovernity of God since I really couldn't miss work and Cooper really needed one sober parent (not doped up on Robitussin), to take care of him. But it's probably coming. Change is coming and I fear that, that change for Craig is his health. I mean seriously can you live with two sicklings and not catch it yourself? I think not. Especially when one of them does things like COUGH IN YOUR MOUTH. (I was informed by Becca that today while visiting Cooper she leaned down and opened her mouth and he went AUGHHCK right in her face. So yeah, she's going to get it too...

So Monday (if we're not dead by then), Craig is supposed to write down when he wants to use all of his vacation/sick days...Yeah he's expected to KNOW when he's going to be sick for twelve months...is this realistic? Not in the least. Vacation I could understand (it would still be annoying to try and figure out when you're going to need that work reprieve most so you don't go postal, so far in advance but I still get it for vacation). But when your days double as vacation/sick it's pretty much impossible to utilize any of them as sick days...ughghgh. Just one more thing to look forward to, you can count on at least a couple of days when you are sick and have to take an unpaid day...Did I mention "ughghghghgh"...

So to recap we're all either sick or getting sick and we're destined to die in a snotty heap while NOT GETTING PAID for it!

The One Where Noone Gets Any Sleep...

Last night was rough. To put it mildly, it SUCKED.


Cooper is sick. Sniffly, congested, can't breath, SICK. But last night we added another element to the mix. Uncontrollable crying and withering around. I knew he was hurting but I was having a hard time figuring out where and what (if anything) I could do about it. We tried tylenol. We tried a bottle. We tried a flashlight...(which sounds weird but Craig has this flashlight and is just Cooper size and when it's dark sometimes you can hand it to Coop and he flails it around and watches the light and chews on the end...). Anyway we tried all that we knew to try. Craig walked around with him. I cradled him. NOTHING. WAS. WORKING.


He would take his bottle for like 30 seconds and then stop and start to cry again. I thought maybe he was having trouble with the milk (because of all the freakin congestion) so we tried pedialyte. He would still only eat for like half a minute.

I had him propped in my lap on a pillow and all of a sudden IT ALL CAME UP. Like possibly everything he had ever eaten in his whole life, possibly everything anyone had ever eaten in their whole life...since the beginning of time...all PROJECTILE VOMIT style. We were soaked and covered and so was the bed.

I changed and changed the Coop, who had miraculously stopped screaming and was down to a whimper. Poor little baby, I knew he must be miserable. Anyway so we relocated to the couch and I tried just holding him against me which was actually working so me and him propped against the couch to try and get some much needed sleep. (By this time it was 3:00 am).

Craig comes and flops on the other couch, apple in hand...I'm like, "what are you doing, are you not going back to bed?" He was like "no, pretty much I have to get up in three hours I'll just stay up!" (See when I get delirious I get funny when Craig gets delirious he gets cranky and unreasonable).

So me and Coop are sitting there trying to sleep while Craig sits 3 feet away and munches on an apple...have you ever heard anyone eat an apple at 3:00 in the morning? Pretty much the most annoying sound ever...it's dead silence then CRUUUUNNNNCH...chew chew chew...CRUUUUNNNNCH...chew chew chew.

I cannot describe to you the absolute torture this caused my ears. It was worse than nails on a blackboard, it was worse than nails on jeans (bec!) and I'm pretty sure it was worse than if fifteen cows had been in my house, all mooing, all dying.

Finally the apple was gone. Then *then* he decided to go back into the bedroom...finally I think we'll get some rest. Now I'm trying not to move at all because I don't want to risk waking him up and starting this whole process over again.

Mercy cat jumps up on the coffee table and swipes the bag of cat treats that are lying there. CRAP! Now if a normal cat encountered a bag of treats it wouldn't be that bad. They might bat it around a little, play with it for a few seconds but then they would loose interest because, well they're a cat and a cat has the attention span of like, 2.8 seconds. But not Mercy cat, she is like a freakin ninja...with tools. She grabs the bag with her teeth and carries it to the floor. All the while I'm whispering "mercy...mercy...no...NO..." She ignores me and proceeds to use her teeth and front paws to rip into the bag...an effective, albeit SLOW, TORTUROUS way to open them. So I keep hearing *crinkle* rip rip rip *crinkle* rip rip rip until I almost entitled this post "the one where the cat gets the boot".

Then the crying starts again. AUGHGHTHTHGHGH. I try a nifty little hold called the collick carry that my brilliant mom showed me. This calmed him and as long as I had pressure on his tummy he was fine. The minute I layed him down he screamed but if I was holding him pressing on his tummy he seemed okay. So this is what we did. We pressed and we whimpered and we slept.

Poor little guy, I hope and pray that he feels better today. (Craig and my mom have him at the doctor right now).

And as for Craig and Mercy, no more cat treats and SO HELP ME IF I EVER BUY ANOTHER APPLE AGAIN.

DO YOU JUST WANT ME TO BEND OVER OR WHAT?!

Last night I was hit with a particularly hard case of delirium...is that a word? Anyway I was absolutely DELIRIOUS.

Craig, Cooper, Cooper's curious george doll and me were laying on the couch and Craig was trying to get comfortable so he was moving around and I thought he needed a pillow for his head so I'm like "do you want me to stuff curious george in you?" And he was like, "ummmm yeahhhhh what do you want me to do, bend over?!" And I'm like "WHAT?!" He's like, "you asked if I wanted you to stuff curious george IN me." (insert hilarious laughter here). "NOooooooo" I say, "I meant do you want me to stuff curious george in your head.....wait...I mean UNDER your head...as a pillow..." But Craig thought we just needed to go to bed because I apparently really needed some sleep.

So we're laying in bed and we're all watching Cooper's new projector thing that we got him for Christmas. (It plays lullabys and projects lights and scenes on the ceiling...very relaxing). So we're just laying there enjoying it and Craig was like "well is there anything else that you want to prop on my face?" I look over to see what he means and realize that I've flopped my whole hand across his face and it was just laying there...I guess I thought it was comfortable, I don't know...I didn't even realize I was doing it. (More hilarious laughter).

Then after the lullabys had stopped and the lights had went out we were almost asleep when I burst into a fit of giggles. "What? asked Craig, are you thinking about the curious george thing again?" "No....I (hehehehe) I was just thinking about (hahahaha) I was remembering aunt Trudy opening the enema at Christmas (AHAHAHAHAHAHA!) Do...(hehehe) do you remember that? Do you remember her UNWRAPPING it?!?! The look on her face when she saw the ritz box (hahahahahahahahahaha)" And Craig was like "Vaguely...but I don't remember it being that funny".

I continued to laugh myself to sleep...oh if every night could consist of happy thoughts about curious george and Christmas enemas...

1 HOUR, 40 MINUTES TO GO...

until i get off...basically all im doing at the moment is killing time...riding the clock...looking busy. should we have to work the week before Christmas? my answer is no, unless of course you're in retail and then i think stores should have to stay open 24/7 until Christmas eve so all of us who have procrastinated all year long can finish their shopping...that is if we had any money to do it with...which we probably don't.

we had to pay for Craig's school the other day (which i had totally forgotten was due) and was kind of in shock and totally unprepared and i did not have $431. So trying to be the responsible self-reliant adult that i strive to be (insert eye rolls here), i called my credit card company to see if they could extend my credit limit so we could charge it...i was informed that i had sufficient credit for someone with my economic status...REALLY?! ARE YOU SURE?! because i think *I THINK* if i truly had sufficient credit then i wouldnt have called to try and get more...

and why does the internet always tell you this will work? every money saving article is always like "call the credit card company, they will work with you. they'll extend your credit limit. they'll take that late charge off. they'll reduce your interest rate..." SERIOUSLY INTERNET?! I FEEL LIKE YOU LIE TO ME...i mean maybe they would extend YOUR credit limit but maybe thats because you're apparently some kind of FINANCIAL ADVISOR since you're writing articles about it...but for me (joe-the-non-plumber) they feel that i have sufficient enough credit...

now we could have easily borrowed the money from my parents but they probably would have lent us cash to which i would feel compelled to pay back the next week when we got payed and really i had already planned to use that money for useful things like Christmas presents and...cheese...so i needed a financial lender who was willing to put up a credit card for us. so we called craig's mom and she charged it for us...yay for people with SUFFICIENT UNTAPPED CREDIT...

ANYWAY that was kind of a random tirade...like i said me: bored. and for some reason im not capitalizing or punctuating...is punctuating a word? hmmm im not sure...

so its almost a new year so we should all be making resolutions that we intend to keep but will probably break before january 2nd...i could write a whole book about resolutions that i need to make but i wont bore you...either that or im afraid that once i put it in writing i'll feel compelled to stick with it...

i was thinking maybe id like to win something this next year...a car would be nice...but seriously i was thinking i might enter lots of contests next year. like maybe at least one a day? contests are everywhere: internet, magazines, stores, etc. but anyway im thinking if i find at least one contest to enter a day (and blog about it) i would be bound to win SOMETHING. and if after 365 times of entering and not winning i think we can conclude that all of that is a scam...and that we've been lied to...

so anyway let me know what you think...or not...whatever...im going back to looking busy for...75 more minutes...

BABY STEPS...

So my grandma (whom I truly do love, although you might not believe it after this), decided that my Cooper needed shoes THIS weekend. She called on Saturday morning and asked what I was doing. The truth was I had planned on running to Gainesville to go shopping because I desperately needed to finish some Christmas shopping but I was on a pretty tight schedule because we had our Christmas Church supper that night (where Craig played santa claus and did an AWESOME job and handed out marshmallow guns to all the kids-woo hoo go craig!)

Anyway so it was going to be kind of a rush trip but then again any shopping trip with my grandma is a rush trip, just ask anyone who's ever been...Becca...Gretchen...mom...Trudy...you know it...you know it is. The woman is almost...73? I'm pretty sure that's how old but she can RUN like no one's business. She RUNS and gets exactly what she is looking for and then she's all like, "okay are you ready to go" and we're all like "ummmm we've only been here for fifteen minutes and the only store we've been to is Belk's so...noooooo we're not ready quite yet..."

So we loaded up, (me, grandma, Cooper and Bec, who let us know that she didn't even want to go but she didn't have a whole lot of choices...gee thanks...).

My grandma has this obsessive thing with Cooper's feet. She thinks they are in a constant state of icyness. She's always like "his feet are freezing", "cover his feet up" and "MY LORD, WHERE ARE HIS SOCKS?!" And I always say things like "he loves NAKIE FEET...let his toes breath" and then she just gives me a look like she wants me to die.

I just don't see the point in baby shoes. Sure they're cute but they serve no purpose. Does he walk? No. Therefore he doesn't need shoes! But I thought okay, what the heck, she wants to buy shoes, if it makes her happy, we'll buy shoes, how hard could that be...(famous last words)...


Okay this is the problem with my kid's feet: they are extremely FAT. And I kind of thought that they were long too, that is until I actually started trying to fit him for shoes. But they're not, they are actually just really fat and short...so kind of ball like...picture a really round foot shaped ball with long toes sticking out...

We tried shoes at target. We found nothing that fit however we did get a really good picture of Becca trying huge ladies pink fuzzy slippers on him. Grandma was not amused.


Next we went to the mall. We went to J.C. Penny's-no fat baby feet shoes. We went to Sears-nothing but long skinny toddler shoes. We had an interesting conversation:

-grandma: are you going to let him watch sesame street?

-me: sure, yeah, he loves t.v.

-grandma: (leaning closer): well let me tell you what I heard...

-me: (looking nervously at bec because WELL you just never know...)

-grandma: somebody at work told me that they called their daughter and said YOU BETTER NOT BE LETTING MY GRANDKIDS WATCH THAT SESAME STREET! because I heard that bert and ernie...well ya know...

-me: what?

-grandma: you know, bert and ernie...they're playin a different kind of family...

-me: WHAT?

-grandma (whispering): gay!

-me: grandma, I thing they're brothers.

-becca: yeah I'm pretty sure they're brothers.

-grandma: well...I don't know...I just wanted to tell you in case you don't want him watching that

-me: I'm almost positive they're brothers so yes, sesame street is fine...

-bec: (eyes rolling all over the place)

Back to the horrible shoe shopping...so it wasn't just that they weren't fitting every single shoe was a battle. Becca would hold Cooper suspended in air trying to keep his arms down. Grandma would hand me shoes and I would try to wrestle it onto his flailing foot not convinced in that moment that he wasn't spawned from an octopus...the kid hates shoes! He is apparently very ticklish on his feet and everytime I touched him it was like his.feet.were.on.fire.and.he.hated.his.mommy. So there was flailing and screaming and gnashing of teeth...wait maybe that's something else I'm thinking of...

ANYWAY so we find nothing! We hit every store imaginable that might have shoes that would fit him. I was soaked in sweet, this was hard work! Grandma was getting desperate, she even pointed out a shoe store who's name was oddly enough: SHOES, SHOES, SHOES! Grandma got really excited until Becca pointed out that it looked like all they had were high heeled shoes and other hooker apparel...

We finally made it to Belk's, grandma's mecca and the one place where she was positive they would surely have the right baby shoes for Cooper's feet. By this time mom and dad, who were doing some shopping of their own had joined us. We tried on more and more shoes. NOTHING. Finally she see's a rack off in the distance. "Look!" Her excitement was almost *almost* contagious. The last rack...off in the horizon...our last chance for our baby not to catch frostbite and end up like a three-toed angry old man...


They have a pair that GLORY HALLELUJAH, fits! They were actually pretty cute too! Augh, sweet relief, life is good again, I can stop tormenting my child and his toes! Grandma is elated. I flip the shoe over...$30.00...thirty...THIRTY LOUSY DOLLARS for a pair of shoes that he DOESN'T need and that he will only be able to wear for MAYBE a month..."grandma, $30.00 dollars is a lot of money...why don't we just wait..." She looks horrified...she looks defeated...she looks at my dad. He says, "$30.00 is extremely unreasonable for a pair of baby shoes." She put the shoes back. She consoled herself by buying two huge packs of baby socks and I promised that if it was really cold I would dress him in two pairs...This was Saturday afternoon.

Sunday morning: I get a wake up call. Grandma wants to know if we're up and tell us that she's coming down, she has something for Cooper. She gets there with an adorable pair of sneakers. They actually fit! She said she couldn't sleep at all on Saturday night so she got up super early and went to walmart. She said if she hadn't found any there she was going to get my dad to take her to Atlanta...

Grandma was so happy I didn't even have the heart to tell her that the characters on the side of the shoe were from Sesame Street...

Baby Teeth make me want to DIE...

ughghghgh. the teething. ughghghghgh. It makes me shutter to think of it.

Yesterday kind of sucked. Cooper threw up twice, (once all over the church pew...) then he refused to eat anything. He fell asleep right after church and slept for...wait...wait for it...3 1/2 HOURS! Most parents would be like "SCORE!" But not me, I just kept starring at him wondering what was wrong and why he was still asleep.

Finally I willed him awake with my non stop starring and I figured okay he's going to be starved because he's only had 1 1/2 bottles and by this time normally he's had 3 and sometimes 4! So I fix a bottle and he drinks *maybe* an ounce...then he's like "okay I'm done". THE KID WOULD NOT EAT ANYTHING! I tried formula. I tried juice. I tried applesauce. Nope, he wanted NOTHING. I have never experienced this before because Cooper loves to eat! It's his very favorite activity. He's all like, "oh food, yeah I'll eat that...oh milk, yum give it to me, wait-juice? you want to give me juice? Juice is incredible, of course I want it...random piece of something he picked up off the floor-heck yeah it goes IN my mouth!" But yesterday he was all like "hmmm yeah ummmmm I'm not going to be eating that...uuummmm I might open my mouth to trick you but that's all...yeah...it's just how I roll today..." And I was like "OH MY GOSH EAT THE FOOD! EAT THE FOOD TINA! EAT THE FOOD!"

So mom came down and did manage to get him to take a few tiny bites of applesauce. I stopped panicking. Applesauce is good. People can live off of applesauce. Babies don't die as long as they eat applesauce, right?

Then came the non-stop crying. For hours it seemed. Crying and crying and then he would mix it up with a little screaming and then a screech then good old fashioned crying. I tried orajel. He looked at me like he hated me. I tried a bottle. He was like "seriously, are you kidding, I'll puke all over you to prove my point-I. DON'T. WANT. THAT." I tried tylenol. He tried to use his baby powers to project just how very much he wanted me to die.

I knew he must be hurting but I can't be convinced that it was excruciating pain because if I stood up and walked around and went to the door and let him look outside he stopped crying...then we walked back to the living room and he was like "AAAGGGHHH I HATE MY LIFE". So from this I concluded he COULD stop crying. It was POSSIBLE. So whatever was hurting (I'm betting on the demon teeth), apparently wasn't hurting to the point that he was going to die, only the point where I thought I was.

Then I tried what my mom always says to try. The bath. The magical, glorious bath. And he was like "hhhmmmm warm water? check. splashing? check. naked? check! And he actually stopped crying...while he was in the water. Now here in wherein our dilemma lies. He's not crying but seriously how long can we keep up this charade? You can only stay wet and naked for a limited amount of time when you're 6 months old. So carefully I lift him out and wrap him in a towel...hoping, praying, that the bath did the trick. That he would have forgotten about what was hurting and he was relaxed enough to not care...I carried him to the bedroom...so far, so good. I layed him down to put his clothes on and he was like "WHAT, WHAT THE CRAP, WOMAN?! HOW DARE YOU LAY ME DOWN AND DEMAND THAT I PUT THAT SHIRT ON?!" And the screaming started again...

Finally after he was dry and dressed and all riled up again I tried the bottle one more time and it worked! He was still mad, he was scowling but...he was also closing his eyes. A little at a time. Yep...finally, finally he went back to sleep.

It just hurts me that I can't seem to help him at all when he gets like that. If I knew what to do I would.

If I could grow those #%&* teeth for him I would.

Steak on a Stick

When Craig suggested chinese for supper I was excited. When I called it in and found out that they had terriyaki steak I was elated. When I opened the brown bag and found steak on a stick I was confused...

Six pieces of marinated steak woven onto a long stick and cooked and then placed in a bag. Doesn't that seem like a weird entree to you? No rice, no noodles, no vegetables, just steak...on a stick...

I didn't think to ask "does it come with rice?" because at the chinese restaurant WHAT DOESN'T COME WITH RICE?!?! I mean seriously, you order sesame chicken they say "that come with RICE, you want noodle too?" You order mongolian beef and they say "you want fried RICE or steam RICE-which one for you?" You order chicken fried rice and they say "OOHH GOOD, YOU ALIKA DA RICE...WE ALIKA DA RICE...THAT COME WITH RICE..LOTS AND LOTS A RICE...RICE MAKE YOU HAPPY...RICE MAKE US RICH..." Then you order the freakin terriyaki steak and it comes on a FLIPPIN STICK with NO RICE....

I feel jipped...I feel sad and most of all I feel hungry...

Bring on the Awesome <><><><

1) It's one day closer to that magical day called FRIDAY (aka: payday, aka: WEEKEND)!!!
2) TV is absolutely amazing on Thursday:
~My name is Earl (hilarious white trash action)
~Kath and Kim (i've only seen this once but i was amused plus it's a good filler to get ready for):
~THE OFFICE!!! (hands down, best show on the air)! then finally:
~30 ROCK (runs a close second to the office)!
(I have to give an honerable mention to grey's anatomy and ugly betty which also comes on thursday and if it came on at 10:00 and 11:00 it would be the perfect storm of television but unfortunetly it collides with earl and the
office so i have to catch it over the weekend on abc.com)

So basically I plan to get the best food for the best supper, I plan to wear my most comfy pajamas and I plan to cuddle under blankets on the couch with my best craig and my super best cooper. (and I'm also hoping that the cats have a calm night and there is NO climbing the Christmas tree and there is NO climbing the couch and maybe jay-jay, mercy and dudley curl up at my feet AND if I'm feeling really good I may just break out the egg nog and wrap a few presents!

I AM STOKED! BRING ON THE AWESOME...
<><><><
shannon

My Drug Induced Rage

Black Friday was a bleak day for me and the walmart pharmacy.

Thanksgiving night (midnight) me, Becca, Crystal, Brandy and Heather headed out to the outlet mall (where we only got a parking space thanks to wonderful JOSHY)! Anyway so we shop (which at the outlet mall on Thanksgiving at midnight consists of walking in the cold and squeezing into stores that haven't yet reached their maximum capacity as stated by the fire marshall [the ones that have, have people standing outside to get IN, we didn't attempt these] and then inching our way around finding one or two deals and then realizing that the mob of people standing butt to front, squished together in a line that snakes around the store three times and out the door is actually the check out line to pay...then putting your stupid cheap t-shirt up and walking out in the cold again). So yeah that's what we did until like 4:00 in the morning. We get back to Joann's and I get a few *few* hours sleep because Cooper wakes up. See he doesn't realize that his mommy is a crazy person that spent all the hours that he was asleep doing stupid, stupid things in the cold so he is bright eyed and bushy tailed and I'm like "I am going to die...ughghgh"

After a few more hours (none of which were spent sleeping and I have to admit some of which were spent at target...it's like I'm a glutton for punishment...). So Craig has gotten progressively worse (he has previously been sick). Of course this didn't stop him from going to home depot three times...YES THREE. On the same day.

He decided when we got back to town he would go to the walmart quick care clinic. So while he does this I shop around walmart (I know!) and Becca stays in the car with sleeping Coop. After he gets out of the clinic he tells me that they called him in an antibiotic to the walmart pharmacy and it will be ready in 30 minutes. I tell him that I'm finding a few things and why doesn't he take Becca and Cooper to mom and dad's and let them keep him until we get done.

Fast forward 45 minutes to 1 hour later. Craig gets back to walmart, I finish shopping and we head to the pharmacy. Here's where things get ugly...we wait in line (ugh the line...) and finally it's our turn. Craig tells her his name and she checks the computer and this is where Craig severed all ties with the cashier and I took over the conversation...

cashier- "oh okay well that's been called in and but it's not ready yet because we didn't know you were "in store".

me: "what? what do you mean you didn't know we were in store? we were in the freakin clinic. that's in the FREAKIN STORE! the clinic told us it would be 30 minutes."

cashier-"well...actually...you're supposed to come check in back here at the pharmacy and let us know that you're going to be waiting to pick it up...because otherwise we don't know you're "in store"

me: trying to kill her with my dagger eyes

cashier: with a smirky smile "it will be about 30 minutes"

me: "what the frick? WELL MAYBE YOU SHOULD PASS ALONG THIS INFORMATION TO THE CLINIC, (THAT YOU SHOULD CHECK IN) BECAUSE THEY'RE TELLING PEOPLE THAT THEIR MEDICINE WILL BE READY IN 30 MINUTES AND CLEARLY IT'S NOT. SO I GUESS I'LL JUST GO THE FRICK HOME, PICK UP MY SICK BABY, DRIVE MY SICK HUSBAND BACK TO THE STORE AND THEN COME THE FRICK BACK HERE!"

(I tend to exaggerate sometimes but this is truthfully pretty much word for word how this conversation went).

Then i walked away raging and telling everyone I saw that I knew, about how much the stupid pharmacy sucks. (And one of my BFF's works there and she is awesome and had she been there this incident wouldn't have happened because she's smart enough to know the clinic is INSIDE the store).

So we leave and I tell Craig to take me to Rite-Aid because I'm going to find out how to transfer our prescriptions there. I go in and talk to the NICEST pharmacy tech and she tells me they just call walmart and get it transferred. I ask how long it would take. She says 20 minutes...let's do it!
So the pharmacist calls and I can hear his side of the conversation: "oh it's already ready...well she's here and she wants it transferred..." and I'm like "that's amazing that they could fill it that fast since they told me it would take another 30 minutes". The tech said I certainly wasn't the first person with this complaint.

So after spending 10 minutes (TOTAL) in Rite-Aid I walked out with Craig's prescription and a $30.00 gift card for transferring a prescription. WOO HOO!

After a few days to clear my head I thought maybe *maybe* I had over-reacted a little bit because of my tiredness and the fact that I was walking/shopping zombie...but looking back I'm proud of the decision that I made...I mean really, do I want people who don't even realize that the WALMART CLINIC is located IN the walmart dispensing me pills...I think not.

PREGNANT AGAIN!!!

not me.

dooce is preggo again http://www.dooce.com

i cant wait to read about her preggo-related adventures...they promise to be very amusing...and by the way did i freak any of you out just now with the whole "pregnant again" DID I? DID I?!