My new dentist emailed over the weekend *swoooon* to let me know of a cancellation today at 2pm. For the root canal redo ... shoot me. Anyway, I accepted which means I could not go to a fabulous lunch at my in-laws which makes me sooo sad BUT not sad enough to go another 8 days with a throbbing mangled tooth. explanation: Almost 3 years after a stupid kid hit Bear's car hard enough to rip the seat from the frame, the other side has finally gotten around to scheduling a deposition. So we all planned to have a little daytrip. So the plan was for Bear to take Rio and have a nice lunch and then go to his deposition. We were to leave at 9am.

Bear decided to go into work for just one thing.

It is 11:25, they left 5 minutes ago. He got back here after 11 and still had to shave and shower. I had his clothes ironed and laid out, his lunch packed, snacks, drinks and diapers in the car and the car running.

I could honestly hit him in the head with a giant steel clock.

But! I now have 1.25 hours all to myself before I have to leave for the dentist. I'm not taking calls, I am cleaning up AND I'M LISTENING TO HOWARD100 AT FULL BLAST!

This is a little sad, non?

:: amended to add ::
I had the best root canal today. I'm not even kidding. I am a little bit insanely in love with my new dentist. If you live within 1000 miles of Brookline MA, you must see him! *swooon*


We have spent hours upon hours this weekend watching home movies. Of Rio. Eating, grunting, trying to roll over, sort of just laying there ...

And we have spent hours upon hours sitting, rapt, with goofy grins.

Oh, we are sooooo parents.

beading frenzy

The last 2 years have been tough. Physically. Emotionally. Tough. I had the botched surgery, a baby, a wonderful ADD-ridden husband, a big move away from everything comfy and sane, a death or 8, just tough. It became apparent that I would need something to 'take me away' besides the pills and booze. So I picked up beading.

Not nearly as effective as the pills and booze, but much less liver damage.

Last night I spent 3 hours sorting donuts and daisies, bicones and briolettes, gemstones and uh, gross ones ... but it occured to me I was calm. Peaceful. Engaged. Filling little containers with the perfectly sorted items. Making labels for things that need labels ... Gorked* on beading.

Stick a fork in it. The party pig, the dancing queen, the drunk slut has left the building.

*Speaking of 'gorked' ... although I've tossed about 40 bottles of stuff given to me by a myriad of doctors guessing at what was causing all the problems ... I still had 2 bottles of things that look and sound sort of the same. One bottle contains the pills for when I feel as though I'm tinkling barbed wire. I thought I was taking one yesterday but instead I took one of the early experimental pills. It sets my entire esophageal tract on white hot fire and then slowly halts the voluntary muscles of most of my major systems. So, it went like this:

Wow. That burns. .... uh oh. Oh NOOOOOOO! (whump. collapses with mouth open.)

Fun stuff. Really. I should set up a webcam ...

straightened out

Bear's habit has been to set the alarm and then get back into bed. Four or five times, beginning at 5:30 or 6am. Until couples counseling. He agreed to set it and get up. Which he modified to 'get up, grab a blanket and oversleep on the purple couch downstairs'. Our counselor, in a grand and misguided moment of inspiration, made the couch off limits! for the mornings.

So, this morning he got up, made coffee for himself, and then woke me up because I was laying crooked in the bed. That he should have vacated. But he was getting BACK into to slurp coffee and blow his nose in such a way that every elephant on this continent perked its ears because it thought it heard its mother calling.



So, yah, the troll thing. I nuked a bunch of this so my blog gives no illusion of being cohesive. It's fair, really. I'll be posting pix of the monkey, Bear dressed up and passed out from the shear exhaustion wrought by our veggie powered maniac baby, stories to catch everyone up, blahblahblah. And I gotta fix this site. Anyone have a suggestion where a mom can pick up a template that doesn't look like ass or cost an arm and a leg. So, a body-part-free template?! Yeah, that's what I'm talking about...


This kid bugs the living crap out of me. He whines constantly and he can't seem to come to the moral lesson of each crudely drawn allegorical tale UNLESS HE'S FORCED, PUNISHED, OR JUST WHINES HIS PARENTS TO DEATH! Of course Rio's seen it twice and asks for him by name. Shoot me.

In an effort to get her mind off questionable PBS whine-a-thon shows, I bought her this and this for her viewing pleasure. I'm either the best mother in the world or the worst. Can't tell. Most days are like that ...

the more I think about it...

The more I miss good old AMA. Once upon a time I let a troll chase me out of here. I changed my mind :) I'm baaaaaaaack!