So I found Hildi!!

I know you all were worried, because I totally was! Well it turns out that once again, illness rears it's ugly head! Poor little Patience caught a nasty bug that aggravated her asthma and she ended up in the hospital. Poor Patience! And poor Hildi!! But Patience is much recovered and Hildi has managed to get some sleep. But not enough to blog yet. She also now has the added (but much welcome) distraction of my parents visiting. So we will hopefully have the pleasure of her blogging again next week. To fill in the time...

So on Wednesday, I finally convinced Jethro to let me take him to the doctor. He'd been coughing for two weeks solid and I was ready to kill him, I mean concerned for him. He hadn't been running a fever really and other than the cough and a headache, didn't feel too badly. But it was time. His cough had turned into that cough. What is known at my house as the "pneumonia" cough. And sadly, we've had it enough at our house that even Captain Oblivious, otherwise known as Larry, can recognize it. Sunday he was all "are you ever going to take that kid to the doctor? Sounds like he has pneumonia." Thank you Larry for your brilliant observation. I know!! But convincing a sixteen year old boy to go to the doctor when he doesn't feel bad is like trying to convince a chicken to lay a golden egg. It's a lesson in futility. Finally I lured him in with promise of lunch at Village Inn (he can always be bribed with food!). So Wednesday rolls around and we head to the clinic in town.

The place is packed. Seriously, we had to park forever away. But as we're walking down the sidewalk, this little old guy hears Jethro coughing (I do have to say it sounds like he has Ebola, or heaven forbid, Swine Flu). Apparently, little old dude thinks so too, because he begins to hurry toward the door, looking back over his shoulder at us the whole time. Desperately trying to avoid coming close to Jethro. I whisper to Jethro, who's looking down and missing the whole thing, "that guy thinks you have swine flu...he's trying to get away from you." Jethro looks up, and us being us, we start moving faster. Little old dude increases his pace and I start giggling. The kicker? He has to pass right by a little kid with a face mask on, who obviously really does have swine flu. Hahaha.

Once inside, we check in and Jethro begins trying not to cough because he doesn't want them to make him wear a face mask. Although, every time he does cough, people stare. My my my, what a panic this pandemic has caused. Well, I'm up first for the doctor. Normal routine visit, or so I thought. I get in and the nurse does her thing and lo and behold! His scale says I've lost 7 pounds! Now, I'm pretty sure his scale is off because I don't think that's true, but I keep my mouth shut because I'm basking in the praise. "Great job Gert!". Riiiiggghhht. Like I've done anything different lately. Except maybe get so caught up in writing my blog that I miss a meal. That actually does happen, much to Jethro's dismay. Then we discuss medication and he adds another one. Joy. I feel like a pharmacy. Then I mention the chest pains I had that freaked the kids out. He asks if I went to the ER. Um...no...I was too tired. I just went home to bed. He sighs and shakes his head. Then asks more questions. I tell him we were out running errands all day that day and my chest starting hurting. Yes, sitting down and resting made it go away. So he says "so exercise makes it worse" and I say "um, well I wouldn't call what I do exercise, but yes, being busy makes it worse." So now I have to have a stress test on Wednesday. I'm freakin thrilled.

Then we go down to Jethro's doctor. Jethro and his doctor have a unique relationship. They give each other loads of crap constantly. It's really a battle to see who can one up the other. She comes into the office and it goes like this~

Dr.: Oh. It's you.

Jethro: Yep. Lucky you.

Dr.: (reading chart) cough, congestion, headache times two weeks. wow. same old stuff. so boring. don't you ever want to be original. Like maybe your big toe could rot and fall off.

Jethro: I like my toes.

Dr.: Fine, well I'm going to have to take gallons of blood today.

Jethro: That's cool. I'm a cutter so it really doesn't bother me. *the Dr. starts giggling* Besides it gives me a chance to steal some dirty needles for my heroin habit.

Dr.: *recovering* Oh. Well my bin looks pretty full. Want me to get the key and pop it open and you can have all you want?

Jethro: that'd be sweet.

They continue in this manner. He hops on the table, she examines him, he starts laughing when she tries to feel his lymph nodes (because he is waaaay ticklish). Finally she sighs loudly and says "well we could do a blood test, but we all know he's got walking pneumonia. Again." So she prescribes the antibiotic and cough syrup and off we go. To Village Inn of course. Because even sick, he has the appetite of a horse. Besides, it was free slice Wednesday!!

swine flu & sarcasm,
♥Gert

PS- Happy Halloween!

Hildi's gone AWOL..

Seriously Hildi, where the heck are you? You haven't even answered texts lately. I know better then to call because you don't pick up unless you think it's an emergency. If I thought Jerome had the stomach for it, I might be worried he'd hacked you to pieces and hid you in the crawlspace.

Anywho, I'm taking your turn again because I need to vent. Big time. After cleaning up my house yet again, I am fed up. So this conversation ensues...

Me: So, I realize that because I do not work outside the home, the house is my responsibility. However, I'm pretty sure that does not give you or the boys leave to become the messiest people on the planet. I checked the fine print of the contract. And if you added a codicil you have to inform my lawyer and he swears to have no knowledge of one so I don't know what you're thinking but it won't hold up in court.

Larry: laughing (at me I'm sure). I don't think I'm the messiest person on the planet.

Me: Really? Really? Are you kidding me? You set the empty kool-aid pitcher on the counter by the dishpan and it had red kool-aid all over the bottom. I just spent twenty minutes scrubbing the stain off the counter. Not to mention that the dishpan was full of un-rinsed dishes (I hate un-rinsed dishes). Why? Why?

Larry: Um. Because I'm a moron? (now the first time he used this defense, I have to admit it was pretty funny and I laughed. And agreed with him, because he said it not me.)

Me: That excuse is really wearing thin. Even morons can learn. And oddly enough, I firmly believe we've had this conversation before. And it seems to do no good whatsoever. So really, I don't know why I'm wasting my breath.

Larry: Ummm. (Yeah, I know he has no clue what to say here.) Sorry?

Me: Whatever. But just so you know...I'm not happy. And all this cleaning and picking up after you and the boys is seriously cutting into all my writing time.

Larry: Well, it would be different if you were getting paid for that writing.

Me: Really? And how would it be different? Hmmmm? Would you be less messy? No. I think not. The only way it would be different is maybe I could afford a maid.

Larry: Of course when you right a blockbuster best seller and become rich and famous you'll be able to afford a maid.

Me: You know, I don't even care if I'm rich and famous anymore. I'd settle for published and able to pay the bills. My dreams have seriously tanked. It's like for every year I get older, my dreams get closer to the floor. Kind of like my boobs.

At which point he actually chuckled out loud. In case you don't read my other blog, this is unusual. Mostly anymore he just looks at me like I've lost my mind. Unfortunately, the dream thing is true. They tell you to reach for the stars but right now I'd settle for the top shelf. *sigh*

there's laundry calling my name,
♥Gert

And that's the last time we let him watch a scary movie before bed!

So Hildi, I'm taking your turn again. I know you've had your hands full with Prudence being sick and cheer clinic and all. But I have a funny story to tell...

So the other night, Tuesday to be exact, the kids and I rented movies and of course us being us, and it being October we rented scary movies. And we decided to watch Trick or Treat first. It was okay. Not tremendously scary. A few jumps. A decent storyline and very watchable. There was this little pumpkin headed demon child that ran around in orange footie-pajamas with a piece of burlap tied around it's head like a sack and a face drawn on it. His name was Sam. He was an evil little guy.

Well, as a rule, Larry doesn't join us in the family room because he says the couch is uncomfortable and there's just the one so we're all kind of piled on top of each other or someone stretches out on the floor. And he can take or leave scary movies. Plus Tuesday is the one night he actually has a show on that he tries to keep up with. But after his show he joined us. The movie was about half way through so I caught him up to speed. We finished the show and Jethro headed down to the Batcave. Larry said he was going to bed. How the man manages to go to bed and fall asleep with the light on and the door open in our house never ceases to amaze me. But he does it. Well Lulu and Oscar and I stayed up talking for awhile and then Oscar headed downstairs to his room and Lulu to hers.

I went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Now of course the master bath is right off the master bedroom. The bathroom door is like 3 feet from where Larry is laying. When I went to flush the toilet, it started to fill up instead of going down. I threw open the door to ask Larry to get the plunger when the water actually overflowed!! Now this has never happened to me before and since the bathroom is carpeted, I start going "sh*t, sh*t, sh*t" quite loudly!!

Larry wakes up...and jumps out of bed into full defense stance. Now, mind you, he was a wrestler so it's a wrestler's stance. Feet firmly planted shoulders width apart...knees slightly bent...arms out and rounded...looking around going "What? Where is he?!" The poor man is half awake and his eyes are completely bloodshot. And his underwear is hanging in a precariously saggy manner. I start laughing hysterically. "What are you going to save me from?! The toilet??" Lulu is of course, also laughing in her room. "Maybe he thought Sam was after you! You shouldn't let Daddy watch scary movies anymore!" By this time, he's straightened from attack stance, hitched up the baggy undies and is staring at me blearily. By now, I've run to the hall bath, grabbed towels and searched frantically for the plunger.

Me: "Where the hell is the plunger?"(in a not nice manner because I'm pissed about the toilet).

Him: In the hall bathroom?

Me: um. no. been there.

So he stumbles off. About ten minutes later he's back plunger in hand. "It was downstairs." I send him back to bed and he's instantly asleep. If he ever really fully woke up. I plunge the toilet, avert the crisis and soak up the water.

The next morning I'm describing the scene to Jethro, complete with my interpretation of his Dad's stance. He says "ah. that explains it. I was laying in bed when I heard thump thump thumpitythumpitythumpitythump. Thump thump thump. Flick. Then thump thump thump thump thump thump thump thump. That's dad starting down the stairs, falling, then going back up the stairs, flicking on the light switch and coming down. Oscar and I were rolling." Poor guy. No more horror flicks before bed. But at least I know he's ready to take on all evil-doers, toilets too.


plungers and demon children,
♥Gert

So about the Boogeyman...

Um, Hildi dear, it was your turn. Again. But because I'm a good sister, I'll pick up the slack. You owe me. And I think the count is up to like 9,673,214 and 1/2. No, I won't forget the 1/2.

Before I get to the Boogeyman (and we are going to get there), I have to point out that I'm totally unsure how Google decides which ads to place on your blog. Because I seriously understand the Halloween ones, but weddings? Not sure how that fits in. And dementia care? I'm beginning to wonder if they are insinuating...hmmm. And seriously, at the top of the page was an ad for a scarecrow sprinkler!!! Obviously, they didn't read my little rant about how scarecrows are evil and want to make you run people over and take over your soul. Because how could they ever begin to think that after I exposed scarecrows like that anyone would ever buy a freakin scarecrow sprinkler??! Are they daft?

But on to the Boogeyman. Yeah. We're going to have to add him to the list of "things Gert is irrationally afraid of". Big deal. It's such a long list, what's one more. I have always been afraid of the Boogeyman (notice how his name is capitalized? Yeah, it's because he's that bad!). Hated the dark place under the bed. No foot or hand ever hung over. And I have been known to leap a good three feet onto the bed in order to avoid his grasping hands. (But not in at least three months). Seriously, remember that movie Poltergeist? It came out when I was like 12 and Hildi was 5. She slept in my bed for months. Remember how that creepy clown doll (yes, also on the list...clowns) came out from under the bed?! Way to give a visual to my nightmares. And I still absolutely cannot sleep without the closet doors all firmly shut. Because that way the Boogeyman can't get you. Or at least you have warning when you hear the door open.

So they make a movie about the Boogeyman. And really, it was just okay. Not a big fan of it actually. But last night on TV...a sequel. Boogeyman 2. And of course I stayed up to watch it. And surprisingly, it was better then the original (how often does that happen?). I mean it wasn't in league with 30 Days of Night or The Exorcist or Rosemary's Baby. But it was watchable and had a few jumps.

But at one point, our heroine is trying to outwit the Boogeyman (as if!) and she's sneaking away from him between two rows of records. And I'm watching her tread quietly and duck and tiptoe and it suddenly occurs to me that I'm screwed. If I ever have to try to sneak away from the Boogeyman, I might as well give up. Because at some point during my "sneaking", at least one of my joints is going to pop loudly. And heaven help me if I have to duck, because my knees are going to do that disgusting creaking/grinding noise they make and give me away. So my best bet? Yep. Confrontation. I'm just going to go up to him and talk my way out of it...

Me: Alright, let's stop playing around here. We both know I can't sneak away from you. I can't outrun you. And I sure as hell can't overpower you I mean you have like super strength or whatever and you're invincible.

BM: Invisible?

Me: Um. No. Invincible. I can't kill you. Wait! Can I?

BM: Of course not. Don't you keep up. I'm the Boogeyman.

Me: Hmmm. Darn. There for a minute...well ok, nevermind. Go ahead.

BM: Go ahead and what?

Me: Kill me. Get it over with. C'mon. You're wasting darkness here.

BM: (completely taken aback) You're just going to give up?

Me: Yep. We've been through this. Nothing I can do. You win. I give up. Hah! Not so much fun is it, now? All the fun's in the chase, huh? Well too bad mister! You didn't really think terrorizing me through did you? Whoopee do...you got the old chubby chick. That's not much for bragging rights. What are you gonna do when you're sitting around with your monster friends talking about tonight's kills, huh? They're gonna be all, last night I took down this 6'5" 350 pound football player. Made him scream like a schoolgirl. Put up a helluva fight, but I won in the end. Or last night I chased this six year old all around her house like we were playing hide and seek. Just like a cat playing with a mouse. She was a smart cookie, but I got her in the end. But you. Nope. What have you got? Well, I went to this chicks house and crept out of the closet and she gave up. Makes you look lame, dude. They're gonna laugh. What kind of self-respecting Boogeyman are you? Geez, go pick on somebody who's not half-crippled and on to you. Wuss.

BM: Shut your trap woman! I'm outta here. stalks angrily back into closet

Me: Don't you take that tone of voice with me mister! And no slamming doors! For the love of Pete! Where have all the good monsters gone?

Oh yeah...their sitting outside my neighbors house, waving at me!!!

happy nightmares,
♥Gert

Happy Fall Y'all!

Hehe. That rhymed! So as you know...I LOVE FALL. I love the colors, I love the weather. (oh yeah, rainy, cold and grey gets me jazzed) Not really. I do like the cool crisp fall air. We just seem to be having an abundance of the wet kind currently. I love apple picking time. And apple pies and apple cider. I love Halloween and all that goes with it. Wait. That's a lie. I do not love everything that's associated with Halloween. Or fall. I freakin hate scarecrows!!! Wtf? Who decided scarecrows should be part of the whole fall decorating scheme?? Because, I'd really like to slap them in the face.


I know, I know beeing afraid of scarecrows is irrational. Duh. Now ask if I care? So this is a big problem because the people down the road think decorating with a scarecrow is an HGTV idea. And they do it every year. Every year, right about this time, they swap their summer decorations for bales of hay and a freakin scarecrow. He's sitting there all cheerful like on these bales of hay, right under the freakin light mocking me. Oh don't even tell me he's not. Because I know he knows that he's freaking me out and that's why he's smiling. They've even got one arm raised up in a wave. Are they trying to kill me??? I think they must be. I only got a good look at him that first time when I was taken by surprise. Since then, every time I drive past that house I have to put my hand up to block the sight. Then I slap my hand over my rear view mirror so I don't accidentally catch a glimpse. Because I know, I know that one of these days he's going to wave or turn his head just the slightest or somehow let me know he's in there. Personally, I hope he decides to run in front of the car...because dude, you are going down!!!

Yeah, I know that all sounds slightly crazy but I'm pretty sure Stephen King understands.
And some day I'm going to write a story about a murdering evil scarecrow and dedicate it to those people and they're going to read it and be scared. Very scared. Then they're going to apologize and burn that damn scarecrow. But until then...I probably wouldn't stand to far out in the road in front of their driveway, because I can't really see you if you are, what with my hand blocking my view and all, and you might get run over. And it would be the scarecrows fault. Just saying...


♥Gert

Oh goosebumps!

Gert,
I hate it when toys turn themselves on! Especially when there's no one around to be freaked out with you. I much prefer creepy things to happen while in a group. Of course, even when someone else is there, you might be the only one to see or hear it.
I truly think you should give the writing another go. Whether your pulling out the old stories or writing completely new ones. It's something your good at and seem to enjoy. I imagine rejection on something that personal would be hard, but creating is good for the soul.
Dream house you say? I would settle for bedroom furniture at this point! Hell, some new undies would probably make me cry! My husband has a wonderful opportunity for more money and a better job staring him in the face. Has he done anything to start on this promising journey? Nope. It has been three months and he hasn't taken a single step in that direction. Yet he'll complain everyday about his current career. This could be a major crossroads for us. I don't know if I can respect a man who doesn't want to better his family's life. There is only so much whining and laziness a girl can take!
Speaking of whining! I have never in my life seen a person carry on so, about having some teeth taken out! He had this done on Friday morning and has not stopped bitching( or taking hydrocodone )since! Yes, I know it is very unpleasant. Dental procedures are rarely fun and it takes time to heal. Come on! I have had so many more invasive dental surgeries and have yet to continue my pain medication for more than the following day. I have also never used it as an excuse to be useless! What's that? Get my tooth ripped out and drive home to run errands? Ok! Wait, you mean I need to have a bone graft inside my gum and while their there they'll do a root canal from the inside? Sure, then I'll not only drive myself home but go get my medication and take care of the children. Please! Tuck in your skirts Alice!

Alright, I feel better. Soo sorry for ranting about that, but enough is seriously enough!

I'm soo excited for Halloween! I am ordering the girls costumes tonight!


Boo, Hildi.

Crazy cat lady...

In case you haven't noticed...I already have a multitude of cats! Seven to be exact. I'm pretty sure those seven would wait for me to fall asleep and then eat me if I were to add another to our home. The oldest ones are pretty pissed off about the newest ones as it is. I'm on thin ice with them. They glare balefully at me whenever their naps are disturbed by the two menaces (otherwise known as kittens). But I can't help it, I'm as bad with animals as I am with people. Stray? Don't have a home? Gert will take you in.

I am a little more settled with Lulu's leaving. I think after having the entire group there for the birthday party on Sunday, it was just a let down when they all went back to their own homes. And Lulu's not just my daughter, she's one of my best friends. As you said, at least she's with a good guy and happy. And she's called like four times this week so that helps. Yes, she called me. I didn't even ask her too. Until she starts picking up more hours at her job, she has alot of free time. Dexter has school and work and so do the other roommates. So she really is an HB. And she's finding it boring. So she calls me. It's almost like she was four again. "Mom. I'm boooored." You have to admit, you can only clean a small apartment so many times.

I think you're right. I need to have something on my plate before Jethro leaves. But I feel like I do. Between the two blogs we have and the other one I do, I spend a lot of time writing. And finally, the guys are taking it more seriously. Jethro even told me to go ahead and go write yesterday, that he would clean up the house. And he did. He even vacuumed. (No, I checked. No fever) He knew I felt bad about taking the weekend off (since Irwin was home) and then Monday (because I spent all freakin day in the car!) and Tuesday (because i was laying on the couch, hacking up a lung). And yes, I have several stories. I guess I should dust them off, spruce them up, and submit them. I just hate rejection. I know, all writers get rejected sometimes. Really, that's not a consolation when your holding the rejection letter. Even when they say, "great story, just not what we're looking for right now". To me that still reads F-A-I-L. I guess I need to toughen up. I mean it's quite obvious to me that Larry is never going to make us rich so it's up to me. I actually asked him the other day if he'd build me my dream house and he said "sure, as soon as you write a book and get rich". I was flabbergasted. "I have to pay for my own dream house??" to which he replied "yes, but I'll save you a bunch of money by building it myself". I guess that was his idea of compromise.

So my friend's sister and her husband wrote a book. A young adult scifi novel. She read Jethro and I the opening paragraph the other day at lunch. Seriously, you'd have to know these people to understand. But I can honestly say it was close to the worst thing I've ever read. She said they asked her if she knew of someone who would be willing to be their editor before they submitted. She said "I thought instantly of you, but knew you'd kill me." Indeed. I'm pretty sure they couldn't pay me enough. However, I must admire their initiative and follow through. She's going to email me the link where they've posted the first three chapters online. I'll be sure to pass that on. =]

Well, I need to go. But first...to put in your weird & freaky file...Sunday night, after everyone had left, Jethro had headed down to his room, Irwin and Larry were in bed, and I was alone in the family room sitting right here at this very computer...I heard this low pitched voice, then hammering. Well, I looked around the room, and there sitting on top of the toy box was one of Irwin's old toys. It has this little bear in a construction suit that talks and little buttons you hammer down with a plastic hammer that light up and make noise...it was going off all by itself. The cats were even downstairs with Jethro. No one but me was in the room. I gotta tell you the hairs on my arms stood up and I was a little creeped out. But luckily I was way too tired to get really scared. Now...if it happens again...

books, blogs & spooky happenings,
♥Gert