You don’t want to bite ME!
February 14, 2006
You know you were waiting for it. You know you wanted to hear it. So here you go.
BITE
I have told you before that we have a Doberman, Harley. A Doberman who weighs nearly 100 pounds but thinks he is a tiny Chihuahua. No concept that he is large. And strong. And has enormous teeth that can rip a face off of a human being with nary an effort. And this sweet little dog (okay, he really is sweet, but not so little) is very protective of his “pack” (meaning us…the family). Especially the little angel he thinks is his. Gabrie is his little one to care for, to protect and to lavish huge, wet tongue kisses on. Rule Number One: Never mess with Gabrie.
Well, silly me forgot Rule Number One. She and I were playing and tickling and giggling. Well, Harley thought that I most certainly must be hurting her. Why else would she screech so loudly? (Well, dumb dog, because she is a girl and that is what they do. LOUDLY!) The next thing I know, he comes running to her rescue.
“Screwing around with my girl, eh?” was the look in his eyes.
I should have been warned. I should have seen it coming. But nooooo. I was taunting him by PLAYING with my daughter.
Enough was enough. As I lay on the floor engaged in a very fun tickle-fest with the little angel, Harley went into protective mode.
And Bit me. ON THE ASS.
Not hard enough to do damage. Not hard enough to even hurt. Just hard enough to tell me that I better leave HIS girl the hell alone and to stop right then.
I turned and looked at him and he looked back like “Well? Game Over, lady?”
Oh HELL NO the game is not over. I leaned towards him. Got closer. Looked into his eyes and said, “Is that really how you want to play this, DoberButt?”
And then…
Then I bit him back.
Let me tell you something. When you bite a dog and that dog recognizes you as one of the pack leaders, it really is quite hilarious. The shocked look on his face could only be described as “What the fuck did you just do?” He didn’t run. Or yelp. (Hey, I didn’t really bite him hard. Just enough to get his attention. A love nibble. But not.)
He walked over to Gabrie. Sniffed her to make sure she was okay. And huffed away. I swear this dog HUFFED away. Apparently Dobermans are not the kind of dog who think it is appropriate to have their humans bite them.
Gabrie looked at me wide eyed and said, “Mommy, that was just so gross! Did you get hair in your mouth? Really, Mommy, you shouldn’t bite the dog.”
And so I was told. By a 4 year old. That Mommies should not bite the dog. Now I know.
But damn, it was HILARIOUS to see the look on his face. And I can also tell you for sure that he won’t be biting me again anytime soon. He also gets very nervous if I bare my teeth at him now.
Wimp! I didn’t even bite that hard!
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Posted by Jenn @
9:31 am | |
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Strangers in the network….exchanging pingings
December 10, 2005
Apparently my laptop has a crush on my husband’s laptop. Late last night in our bedroom, we were doing what all married geek couples do alone in bed at night–surfing and blogging–when suddenly my computer made a noise I had never heard before. I liken it to the infamous “schwinnnnng!” of Wayne’s World. Then a little icon that closely resembled a bulls-eye pops up.
“What was that?” I panicked. I mean, if my computer mocks me or makes threatening advances towards me when I am alone, that is one thing, but when the master geek is directly beside me, I begin to wonder what I did to cause such a bizarre response from my computer.
He glances over as it does it again. “schwinnnnnnnnggg!” As we both stare at my computer in confusion, suddenly a response is heard from his computer, “schhhhhuuuuuwinnnnnnnnng”. Then back to mine. Then back to his! We must’ve have looked like the RCA dog watching a tennis match.
Then my computer declares it’s reason for schwinginess (totally a word, by the way!) with a message: “Another computer is located nearby” pops up as a warning. I hurridly sneak a glance at Clint’s computer as his has the same reaction.
“Look! They love each other! My computer it totally crushing on your computer! And your’s is in l-o-v-e too! Just look at his hard drive!”
It was at this point I dissolved into a fit of giggles as Clint rolled his eyes so far back into his head he could watch his brain seize with the effort of dealing with my late night adventures. (Remember the Shadow of Doooooom?)
An exasperated Clint replies with, “They are computers. It is the network. It is the network doing it’s job.”
“No, baby, they are in love! They felt each other’s presence accross the vast expance of the distance between them and reached out with a “schwinnnnnnnnng” of love.”
“Jenn! You are less than a foot away from me.”
“Oh would it kill you to just go with it for the love of all things sentimental! “*huffy sigh*
“You do know that if you blog this, Jenn, they just may have to take away your geek card, right?”
“Hmmm, and you do know that if I get my geek card taken away, Clint, you will automatically get your Ever-Having-Sex-With-My-Wife-Again card taken away as well. Did you read the fine print there, my friend? I am guessing not. Feel free to think about it sweetie, I can wait.”
“Awwwwwwwwwww, how sweet that our computers are in love and found each other! There. Now does that count? You won’t blog it?”
“Totally counts…
…But still blogging it.”
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Posted by Jenn @
9:18 am | |
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Shadow of Doooooooom
December 5, 2005
For as long as I can remember, I have suffered from insomnia. (Unlike the insanity in which not only do I not suffer from it, but I enjoy every moment of.) So, for me to say I’m going to bed that usually means I will hit the pillow about 45 minutes or so from then. Even then, I will most likely still be awake for at least an hour. Most nights I will read or write. Generally something non-disturbing to my slumber-loving husband. When he says he is going to bed, he is usually catching some serious Zs within moments. All things being equal. Unless of course you introduce the A-B theory.
The A-B theory pretty much involves A (me) annoying the every loving crap out of B (him).
Case in point: An hour after announcing I was going to bed, I actually made it to bed. He had just crawled under the covers and closed his eyes ready to sleep. (Silly, silly man!) In my defense, I had every initial intention of just reading. With my book light. But then the giggles hit.
“Clint. Hey, Clint look!”
I begin to do that thing where you hold a flashlight up to the ceiling and then take your hand and slowly cover it as if the Shadow of Doom is descending upon your room. Sound effects extra.
“Yeah, cool.”
“Hey! You didn’t even look! LOOK!”
“I’m tired. I don’t want to”, but he still pops one eye half open.
Eagerly, I begin again with the Shadow of Doom (complete with the spooky ghost-like sounds effects.)
Both eyes pop open as he raises up on an elbow and stares at me.
And stares.
“What?! Come on now, Clint. No one can resist the thrill of The Shadow of Dooooooooom!”
*stare*
“Tomorrow, I am totally going to show you how when I shine a flashlight on my hand you can see the blood vessels and bones of my hand.”
“Shut up.”
“Pfffft! You used to be fun.”
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Posted by Jenn @
10:32 pm | |
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You can never out-love your Mom
November 2, 2005
Since becoming a mother I have discovered something that I never imagined to be true when I was growing up. Something my mother used to say to me, but I always told her it was impossible. Turns out, she was right. She always told me: You can never out-love your mother. ANd you can’t. It is impossible. Even when she is your hero as my mom has always been to me. Simply put, you just cannot out-love her. I am a mother to three and know that there is no way they could ever love me more than I love them. No way they will know the deep intensity of love for the very beings that I brought into this world and am raising to one day go forward and change the world around them. They could never out-love me.
Just as I can never out-love my own mom.
As a little girl I learned more from Mom than I could ever document in an essay or column. I learned how to be the woman I am today. I probably even learned my distain for sorting socks from her. The best thing I learned from her was to laugh. You just have to laugh in the face of any horror you are confronted with. You have to look at fear, pain and, yes, even death and laugh. Or you will cry and it will win. What an amazing gift she gave me with her laughter and her humor.
I was always Mommy’s Little Helper growing up. Perhaps it was the “youngest child” syndrome. Or maybe the suck-up gene. But honestly, I think it has more to do with the fact that I thoroughly enjoyed her company. She made anything and everything fun. Nothing was so bad that she couldn’t find either humor in it or a way to remind you why you should be laughing. Helping her out was my greatest joy as a little girl. I would “help” her fold clothes. (Which probably always led to her redoing them later, but never in front of me.) I would “help” her clean the dishes. (Which equated to making lots of bubbles and getting the sink, floor and both of us soaking wet.) I would “help” her carry heavy things that looked like they were too much for her to carry alone. (Now, I see that she was carrying it and I was merely placing my hands on it, probably making it heavier.) It is now that I have my own Mommy’s Little Helper I realize how little I was helping her and how much she was actually helping me. A mother’s love. There is nothing like it. And no pain like knowing it is going to leave your life.
There is a certain grief that comes before death. A cruel time of waiting. A limbo where you desperately want more time, yet agonize over every new ailment or setback. A time when you desperately want death to just hurry up if it is going to come. Just stop taking her piece by piece. Stop robbing us of her bit by bit until she is no longer there. There is a cruelty to a slow death that torments those who are standing on the sidelines watching it happen, for those of us who see it lurking in the corner and wonder, “Are you coming? Is it time? What do we do until you decide to end this sadistic dance and let the music finally end?”
Honestly, I get really mad at all of this. I want to scream at Death and tell it to just stop screwing around with her. To just go away until it is time. But it hasn’t listened. It sneaks in, steals another part of Mom and slithers back out. To those who haven’t known her forever, it is hardly noticable when she has been robbed of another aspect of what makes her who she is. To those of us who have always known her, there is a huge emptiness that is left behind. A hole in the very essence of who she is that has been taken from us. Before we were ready.
I can’t stop what is happening to her. I can’t do anything to ease it or make it less cruel. I can’t even be there for her on a daily basis. There are days I am so thankful that I don’t have to face this in person on a day to day basis. And then I hate myself for thinking that. For being thankful that I don’t have to watch her go. How awful is it that I find relief in my absense? Because when I am with her, I hurt. Because there is still so much I have to say to her. There is so much that I need to know. Why didn’t I ask her about the little things when there was time? Why didn’t I tell her that being her daughter was the most fun, most amazing experience in the world? Why didn’t I ask her to share more of her stories with me? And then the anger hits again.
The last time I was with her she apologized. Can you believe that? She apologized to me that she was so sick. She cannot even use her voice past her treach tube, yet she managed to whisper out the very words I have been telling her. I’m so sorry.
I hope I have told her enough that she was a good mom. I hope I have given her enough love to get her through those hard times in our past of slammed doors and rolled eyes. I hope she knows that although I am aware I can never outlove my Mom, I sure can come close.
It has been a few days since she has been awake when she has visitors. The doctors refer to her as minimally responsive. Which basically means if you poke her with a needle or start a proceedure on her, she will open her eyes wide and give you a scared look followed by a go to hell look. But when my Dad has been there, she wouldn’t wake up to see him. When my sister was there, Mom opened her eyes once after my sister repeatedly and loudly told her to. Very loudly and very sternly. As Mom must have done for us as children when we were not responding to her when she was asking us to do something for her.
My heart shatters each time I hear that she is asleep more than awake now. Does she know what is happening? Is she scared? Does she wonder why I am not sitting by her bedside holding her hand as she has done for me countless times? Or has Death done it’s only merciful act and already stolen her ability to reason those things out?
Bit by bit. Day by day. I grieve for her. In a way, I wonder if these little deaths are more painful than the big one that is inevitable. There is a desperation that wants this nightmare to end, yet a fear that never wants her to leave me because I love her and cannot imagine her not being here. And this waiting, this watching, this grieving…it is hard. I wonder what she must be thinking when I stand beside her bed and tell her how much I love her. I wonder if she hears me and knows all of the things I want to say but just cannot find the words to express them. Yet, when I leave her and return home to my boys and my own baby girl and hold them in my arms, or watch them play or even when stand over their sleeping bodies when I check on them at night, I am comforted in knowing that no matter how much I love Mom, there is a peace that comes and surrounds me just by knowing the very basic truth that …
You can never out-love your Mom.
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Posted by Jenn @
12:00 pm | |
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Big Entry of Random Randomness (now exploiting friends of my children!)
October 27, 2005
Sometimes you must resort to random information rather than make quite a few separate snore-worthy entries. Instead, here is one Big Entry of Random Randomness (now exploiting friends of my children!)
~~~~~
I have been told for the past three months how well I have been handling everything with my Mom and my Dad. I have been asked how I am holding it all together. My standard reply is usually Just wait. It is when the calm comes that I lose it. The fun has yet to begin! I am rarely believed because I look so “together”. Last night I spent most of the evening making sarcastic remarks, whining or just being bitchy. When Clint mistakenly asked what was wrong, well, let’s just say I gave him an earful. A few minutes later as I was watching TV, I went to brush my hair of my shoulder when my ring snagged on my necklace and broke it.
Oh for the love of all things emotionally irrational, I lost it. Lost. It. I began to sob uncontrollably muttering how ironic it is that it was my Mom’s ring that broke my necklace and broke me down and is making me cry and ohhh how could life be so unfair as to break my necklace. It just isn’t fair that my necklace broke. Why is this happening? Why did I have to lose my necklace?? What have I done to deserve to suffer through a BROKEN NECKLACE?!
(Does anyone think perhaps I was suffering through a case of transference? Nah!)
~~~~~
Today I decided to work on the mood a bit. I dressed up in something other than warm-ups and a ratty t-shirt. I put makeup on and curled my hair even. When my loving husband got home he was so kind as to compliment me.
Clint: You look nice today. Make-up and everything.”
Me: Today I decided to go by the old standby of “If you look good, you will feel good.”
Clint: How’s that working for you?
Me: *sob sob uncontrollable sobbing*
Clint: So not so well, huh.
~~~~~
With so much work to do, I knew that spending all day entertaining Gabrie was not going to be productive. I did the only rational thing of a stressed out woman: I invited her best friend over. They keep each other entertained so that I can work. In fact, I have been entertained as well. Here are just a few reasons why I absolutely love these girls together.
Gabrie: Why did your horse just kiss my horse?
Friend: Because that’s what horses do when they get their lovin’ on.
After choking with laughter and snorting my Diet Coke out of my nose, I asked her what she meant. I finally got to the point where what she meant to say was was “when they are in love”, but it was SO MUCH funnier as “get their lovin’ on”!
~~
While driving with the girls on errands, Joe Nichols song “Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off” came on the radio. The next thing I hear is LOUD singing from the backseat.
Friend: “Maquita makes her clothes fall offffff!”
Gabrie: “Not maquita! TEQUILA makes her clothes fall off. Tequila. Right, Mommy?”
Me: “Absolutely, sweetie.”
I am SO not winning mother of the year this year.
And that, my friends, concludes my Big Entry of Random Randomness (now exploiting friends of my children!)
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Posted by Jenn @
7:03 pm | |
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I want to have my ashes sprinkled on a Fry’s
September 7, 2005
Clint has finally become brave enough to take me back to Fry’s. Although I do think he was questioning the brilliance of the move when I started to giggle and clap my hands before we ever pulled into the parking lot. I began to rapidly map out our path in the store.
“First let’s go check out the laptops and then the cameras and then… then… then we can go look at the MP3 players. Do you think they have any good deals on hard-drives? OHHHHHHH! Can I get inside the washers and dryers again? Can I? CAN I?”
You could totally see his eyes glaze over. As we walked into the store, I broke free of him and raced from aisle to aisle fondling, rubbing and licking the electronics. I finally met back up with him as he was comparing earphones to buy for Brandon’s computer.
“Where have you been?”
“Oh, just rubbing my breasts on the plasma televisions.”
“Okay. Did you find the pen you were looking for?”
“THE PENS! I FORGOT about the pens!” As I raced to the aisle full of glorious pens! (And I only bought one.)
After being there for barely any time at all (though Clint says it was well over an hour), we had to leave. He literally had to pry my fingers off of the shiny, clickalicious laptops to check out.
As we were leaving, he looked at me and said with complete exasperation, “WHEN did YOU become a GEEK?!”
The moral of the story: Be careful what you wish for. Your spouse just may go geek on you.
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Posted by Jenn @
3:19 pm | |
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A Baby Book Worthy Moment
August 16, 2005
All three of my children have baby books. (Some of them even have writing in them!) I was flipping through Brandon’s yesterday looking through the section that contained the Milestones That You Must Record Or You Are A Horrible Mother! Ironically enough, I had a Milestone that I felt Baby Book-worthy. I was shocked that there was no place specified to record this auspicious occasion. (Thankfully, I have a blog to record such moments!)
I was driving Brandon to school. It was just the two of us, so we were simply enjoying that peace and quiet of the morning ride. Neither one of us are big into small talk in the morning. I’m not because I have probably only had one cup of coffee at that point and all of my brain cells are not quite firing yet. Brandon is quiet because, bless his little heart, he has not yet discovered the bliss and joys of that first cup of coffee in the morning. I thought I would wait until at least 7th grade before we share out morning coffee together. (8th before our weekend beers.) I know this route to and from the schools and the traffic patterns like the back of my hand. One misstep in when you leave and you are going to sit in traffic much longer than you should have to. (Much longer than my patience allows so early in the morning.) There are really only 2 major areas where cars are known to get backed-up. (By backed-up of course I mean, intersections where people drive like idiots and usually check their brains at the stop sign.) The first one is the **worst.
Brandon and I are off to a great morning start. We have managed to speak more than 10 words to each other. (All nice!) And we hit THAT intersection. It APPEARED to be a smooth commute. No major back-ups. Not too many cars. No children flinging themselves in front of you to cross the street before you get there. In general, not too bad.
Halfway through turning in the intersection, the SUV in front of me slams on his**brakes because the SUV in front of him slammed on his brakes. FOR NO KNOWN REASON. No children. No cars. Not even one damn leaf flying in front of his car to distract him. Nothing. (Did I mention I drive a SMALL car? Small car + Big Ass SUV = Certain pain and destruction to my car, my child and my person!)
So, I did what any responsible mother would do. I slammed on my brakes and yelled, “What The Fuck?!” Yelled. As in not mumbled under my breath.
Yes folks, I dropped my first f*bomb on my child and was able to watch his face as the vulgarity of the moment oozed all over him.
Ironically enough, I was the only one shocked and appalled by it! He nearly bit a hole in his lip trying with all his might to not burst forth in uncontrollable laughter at my overly emphatic apologies and stammering. Apparently, his laughter was too forceful for him to hold in as he spit all over me and my windshield in hysterics as I continued to babble-ass my way through something that resembled a backtrack of some sort. To be honest, I think I made his day. I have never dropped him off at school–EVER– with such a huge grin on his face.
And Hallmark doesn’t think that is Baby Book Worthy? Puh-leez!
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Posted by Jenn @
1:15 pm | |
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Celebrate good times!
August 8, 2005
Today was the first day of school for the boys. I wanted to write about it earlier, but I was very busy. After dropping the boys off at school, I fixed myself a few celebratory Mimosas. Of course that led to the mandatory dancing around the house naked singing Nelly’s It’s Getting Hot In Herre”. That is, until the UPS guy came banging on the door telling me that my blinds were open and I was scaring my neighbors. In order to not be arrested, I did at least clothe myself. The police banging on my door would be way too distruptive. After all, Gabriella was still sleeping. God knows I don’t want to wake any child sleeping. EVER.
I tried to behave like a mature adult. I even sat down with a real live magazine. With real live articles that were longer than 3 paragraphs. Don’t, however, ask about what I read. I have no idea. It was hard to concentrate when every five minutes I jumped up and worked on perfecting my “Tom Cruise.” Jumping up and down on the couch, slamming my fists into the ground and pumping the air with my empowered fist.
SCHOOL HAS STARTED!
I had many things planned for the day. I was going to clean. And organize. And run errands. All of the things that need to be done after a very long summer with many children in my face. For many hours. For many days. Instead, I sat and surfed the internet until my brain began to ooze out of my ears.
I consider it a day well spent!
Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go drop to my knees and once again sing the Hallelujah chorus.
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Posted by Jenn @
5:22 pm | |
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Welcome to the entry with more links than you thought possible
June 29, 2005
Okay, dear Internet, I promised a few vacation pictures. I will post a couple here, but most of them are probably illegal and should only be viewed on a pay-per site. (No, not really. Geez! I would think you would know me better by now.)
First, I would like to take the time to welcome my new readers who were sent here after reading my interview featured in the National Association of Women Writers newsletter. And you thought you were going to find amazing words of wisdom from this issues’s featured author! Ha! You get drama, drivel and a few pictures. But check the archives. I have been quite profound once or twice. (Sometimes even humorous, too.) I do hope you stick around for a while and get to know me better!
Now, since you people seem to really want to get jealous of my trip, I will share some pictures with you. I am still waiting for the signed release forms from the family before I show any pictures of non-immediate family members. I mean, getting sued by a cousin, brother or sister would totally ruin my day!
Oh, before I go on, let me ask your opinion. Which do you prefer: (1) photos included in the entry, (2) photos as pop-ups in the entry or (3) a combo of both with the majority on Flickr? For now you get pop-ups. But this is only round one. We have many to go!
To help you get the full experience of why I was so chilled out and was not online much, I have exhibit A. This is the view from my bed. And in the morning, as I was waking up to that view, I would stumble out here to enjoy a nice hot cup of coffee.
On Tuesday, my cousin got married. It was absolutely beautiful. Sunset. On the beach. Standing under this arch. It was so touching, it made me want to marry this man all over again. (Have I mentioned lately that I love this man? I really do love our life together.) We have been very blessed.
Of course, it wasn’t all kissing and coffee drinking on our vacation. There were other kinds of drinking and playing going on as well. But you’re going to have to wait for those pictures. You know the old saying…
Always leave them wanting more!
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Posted by Jenn @
8:32 pm | |
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Son of a beach!
June 20, 2005
Did I mention that I am currently here:
Yeah, there will probably be a bit of a lag in entries, but ohhhh how fun they will be when they show up. Eighteen people. One house. We have a wedding planned a birthday party and lots of drunken hooting and screaming from the beach.
So what are you doing this week?
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Posted by Jenn @
12:24 pm | |
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