Darwin

A month or so ago, one of my midwife partners was wanting to find a new home for her cat, Darwin.  It seems he wasn't very happy living in an apartment.  It was also relayed that he wasn't particularly fond of her sweet little baby either,.  Although Jared and I have been anti animal for several years, we were beginning to miss having something furry running around under our feet.  Plus, the pictures of him as a kitten were so cute...

So, we jumped feet first and decided to take him.  We have a nice big house, a decent sized yard, and larger babies than Chelsea, so we figured it would be a good match.  Plus, Chelsea said he didn't scratch furniture and used his litter box so what could go wrong?  Here's Bubba trying to convince him to be her friend the first day or so after he arrived:

How is it going with our new furry friend?  Well, fine if you're a member of the original Johanson family.  If your name is Darwin, however, it doesn't seem to be going as well for you.  First of all, he went missing about a week after he arrived.  We could not find him anywhere, and though I left food and water out for him for a week after he went missing, his litter box was devoid of turds and his food had not been touched.  I figured that he must have run out the front door and sheepishly told Chelsea I had only been responsible with her cat for exactly 7 days.  Fast forward nearly 2 weeks and I thought I could smell cat in the basement.  Jared and I went down and searched again.  No cat, no poop, and a scentsy took care of the strange odor.  Several days later, Emma was in the basement and Darwin ran past her feet.  The whole family tromped downstairs and after some serious searching, we found him tucked on a shelf behind my canning jars.  He was thin as could be and had obviously been drinking out of my basement toilet.  None of us could find the 2 weeks of poopie he had to have dropped somewhere, so we gave up the turd search and dragged our rediscovered treasure back upstairs.  We were delighted that our furry friend was very cuddly, full of loud purrs, and free with his leg rubs now that his long, self imposed isolation was over.  I figured he was probably over the trauma of his relocation and got prepared to settle in with my new furry son.    

Darwin's new found warmth for his new found family lasted exactly 24 hours and now, we are back to reality.  What do I mean?  Well, first, there's the biting - which can happen out of the blue if you aren't watching carefully.  Then of course there's the swatting and scratching, which if you are Bubba, you get a fair share of right to your face.  And then, let's not forget about the hissing, which Darwin has a particular talent for.  He has his sweet moments to be sure.  Every night, he jumps on my bed and purrs and snuggles for exactly 2 minutes.  Then he will either run away, or bite me and run away.  Trust me, it's been fantastic...  If you think for one minute that Darwin's crabby, snarling temperament has stopped any of us from trying to be his friend, (mostly Bubba) then you would be wrong.  For awhile, he started hiding in his litter box for some peace and quiet.  Bub caught on quick to that ruse.  Here she is asking why he's so rude.  Notice he is sitting in his bathroom:

When the litterbox trick stopped working, he went back to hiding deep in my closets and under the beds.  That doesn't stop Bubba and the rest of the crew from crawling into his hidey holes and dragging him out for forced attention.  In fact, you can find him slung over Bubba's arm for most of her waking hours.  As soon as he growls and snarls, she lets him go.  She waits long enough for him to hide again, and then drags him back out for another go.  Look how thrilled he seems by our affection in every picture we have of him thus far (the pinned down ears in 2 of the 3 pics should be your clue about his utter happiness): 

I sometimes feel a little down about my current pet predicament, but I refuse to give up hope.  Surely Bubba and her cronies will eventually be to able wear him down enough that he will submit to our love and care and might even seek our company for longer than a hot minute.  I guess even if Darwin never warms up, the kids will have something to reminisce about when they get older - I can envision even now all the stories about the snarling, unhappy pet that is our Darwin.  Oh well.  I guess while all of the Darwin scratches on my arms are healing I should probably go look for the missing poop in my basement again.  Anyone want to help?  

Can You Read My Mind?

This week Jared asked me out on a date and actually planned the whole thing himself.  It was a really monumental experience given that he hasn't asked me out or planned a date all by himself since we were first together over 20 years ago.  It's not like we don't go out together...  We actually go out more now than we ever have before because our jerk babies are finally old enough to take care of themselves for a few hours.  It's just that we don't usually go to the trouble of asking the other person out on an official date.  This is how our alone time normally goes:

Me:  Want to go out?

Jared:  Yeah

Me:  Where do you want to go?

Jared:  Anywhere you want to go

Me:  (Mildly annoyed tone)  Want to go out to eat maybe?

Jared:  Sure

Me:  Where would you like to eat?

Jared:  Anywhere.  I'm hungry and I'm not picky

Me:  (Moderately to majorly annoyed)  WHY CAN'T YOU EVER JUST PICK SOMETHING?!

It goes on and on like this for a good 10 minutes before I finally just pick the activity or restaurant and then fume that I married a man that literally cares about nothing....  Well, almost nothing... Which brings me back to the date I just got asked out on.  Know what Jared cares a lot about?  Superman.  It just so happens that Superman the Movie was back in theaters to celebrate its 40th anniversary and my lover wanted to see, and I quote, "One of the best movies ever made."  So out on a date I went!

I actually grew up watching Superman quite a few times myself.  Probably not nearly as many times as the nerd I'm hitched to, but I had to have seen it at least 15 times - maybe even 20.  Therefore, when Jared asked me to dinner and a movie, I wasn't all that put out about it.  Heck, one might even say I was sort of excited to go.  We had steak at the Texas Road House which was tasty.  It broke the rule I made once we moved to Rhode Island in that I told the kids we could not eat at any chain restaurants until we had eaten at every local place in the state.  However, Jared had a gift card from work he would have wasted otherwise so TRH it was.

We made it to the theater about 5 minutes before showtime.  Luckily, Jared had gone earlier in the day to purchase tickets because he wanted to make sure he had a seat.  How crowded was it?  Well, we shared the theater with about 10 people, so thank goodness my old man planned ahead!  How was the movie?  B-O-R-I-N-G.  How in the world did I ever like that stinker?  And what's with Lois?  She's a real corn ball.  Here she is, supposed to be this strong feminist lead, and she's weak in the knees for stupid Superman, spouting poetry anytime he takes her flying!  I don't know why he wasted his time bringing her back to life when her car falls into the San Andreas fault at the end.  If I were Superman, I would have yelled down at her stranded, half buried car, "Good riddance Lois!  I'll tell Perry White you won't be coming back to work!"  It must have been her pink panties that made the Man of Steel a bit of a sissy for Lois.  How else can you explain him turning back time to save her ridiculous life?

Once we were seated in the nearly empty theater, I thought it would be pretty smooth sailing.  Unfortunately, Jared had to tell some jerk to turn off his stupid cell phone.  There was also this doof in the theater that laughed his head off like a maniac about every 2 minutes or so.  I sat there thinking, "Dude, this movie is 40 years old!  This cannot be the first time you have seen this show!  KNOCK IT OFF!"  After about 15 minutes of his nonsense, I leaned over to Jared and told him I was going to walk up and murder that idiot if he didn't stop ruining the most boring show I'd seen in years.  Jared then calmly pointed out that he thought the owner of the empty wheelchair in the front row was probably the self same comedian on the back row.  I felt like a real doof myself for being so insensitive about the man's handicap and made a vow to let it go.  I was surprised to find that I enjoyed the movie slightly more when I put his squeals into perspective.  That dude was so excited and happy to be watching Jared's favorite movie on the big screen.  Pure, childlike joy.  Can't fault a person for that.  Hell, if Jared had any emotion at all, he probably would have gone up to the back row and laughed and giggled with the dude himself.

I couldn't wait for that old stinker to be over - especially since I have been fighting a fairly nasty head cold that has left me with Laryngitis.  It didn't matter how many times I tried to tell Jared how dumb that movie was.  The old geek didn't care.  He still loves Superman.  He still would watch that Christopher Reeve rendition any time or place he could.  And I can guarantee he will still ask me to go the next time it plays in the theater no matter how much I complain about it.  I guess that's true love for you.  I'll go anywhere with that old duffer - no matter how miserable or bored it might make me...  I still draw the line at professional wrestling though my love - so don't even ask...




  

 

We Hold These Truths to be Self Evident

Jared and I just got back from a trip to Philadelphia.  I know lots of people like Philly but I think it's a stinky, dirty city, and the residents can be quite rude.  I only went because of a conference I needed to attend, not because I necessarily wanted to visit for pleasure.  This was not my first visit to Philly and unfortunately, it probably won't be my last.  It certainly is one of the most important states as far as the birth of our country is concerned and I can appreciate that.  It also is a pedestrian friendly city and boasts a pretty delicious food scene.  Public transit is also really easy to use even if the fares are a littler higher than in other US cities.  Philly also has some really beautiful architecture as far as public buildings go and I enjoyed marveling at that part of the city again this trip.  My conference was pretty time intensive so Jared and I didn't get out as much as we did the last time we were in Philadelphia, but we still managed to find some new things to see and impressive new food to shove into our gobs.


I assumed when I got back that I would have lots of evidence of the great things we did despite my dislike of the city.  When I reviewed my pictures, I found exactly two appropriate specimens.  Here's the first in front of Independence Hall:

And this one riding the train back from Boston to Providence at the end of the trip:

What the heck was I doing with my time?  Turns out I spent more time sending inappropriate pictures to my friends Kareena and Sarah then I spent documenting my trip to Philly.  In some ways, it's not really my fault.  A few weeks ago, Sarah told me she had been thinking about sending me a pic of her peeing in a hospital bathroom because I'm always sending those types of pics to her.  Unfortunately, she left her phone with her husband and the moment had flown.  She then had the great idea for the three of us to start collecting interesting bathroom pics together.  Not one to scoff at any questionable idea, I whole heartedly accepted the challenge.  First there was my artistic choice in Philly:

Followed by my more inventive choice once I'd arrived back in Boston:

Then let's not forget the pics I sent a day before I had to go back to work while I was at one of Lily's cross country meets:

Kareena was a little surprised I'd bothered in a latrine but I am committed to my craft.  Additionally, I'd like to point out that those 2 losers have yet to send anything so someone has to carry the day, and as usual, I'm happy to shoulder the burden.  I'm pretty sure there are several people in my life that wonder if I ever have a moment of shame...  or maybe they wonder if I ever consider choosing propriety over a laugh...

I guess that would be a no.

Wikihow has Changed my Life

Yesterday, Jared and I were lounging around in bed when he stumbled on some stupid video about how a lady got her cat down after it got stuck in a tree.  I for one think cats getting stuck in trees is a bunch of baloney.  If a stupid feline can climb up, let the idiot climb back on down.  How do you know that cat didn't go up there just for attention and is waiting to see exactly what lengths its owner will go to just to help it back down?  Ignore it I say.  When it sees you're not going to play into its paws, it will come down and might even think twice before it runs back up again.  Even though my aforementioned opinion about cats in trees seems logical to me, I figured I better ask an expert about whether cats getting stuck in trees is a real thing or not.  Naturally, the person I trust the most to answer all my important questions is Google, and Google did not let me down.  The jury is still out on whether I believe that cats in trees really need to be rescued, but Google did help me understand that I have completely underestimated Wikihow.  I've run into Wikihow during Google searches before for reasonable questions about such things as home renovations or landscaping.  Turns out they have some wisdom on cats stuck in trees too.  Here's the URL in case you care:  https://www.wikihow.com/Get-a-Cat-out-of-a-Tree

Did I find the information useful?  No.  Did I find the information hilarious?  Affirmative.  The crazy/crazies that wrote this tutorial are definitely committed to the idea that your stuck cat might need some help.  However, they also recommend caution with tip number 7:

That's right people.  Wait at least 24 hours.  Then maybe think about getting involved in coaxing down your manipulative feline.  I laughed so hard reading all the instructions I could barely breathe.  I looked over at Jared and asked if he thought a person could actually get some helpful advice out of this website on anything they could possibly think to ask about.  Since he didn't seem too interested and wouldn't give me a search parameter, I went all in with my own great idea...

"HOW TO HAVE SEX"

Wikihow did not let me down.  Again, the URL for my favorite hit in case you'd like to peruse yourself is as follows:  https://www.wikihow.com/Have-Sex-Without-Your-Parents-Knowing

Check out the opening line I circled for you:

That's right.  And it only got better from there.  Not only is this search going to help me be creepy next time I visit my mom, I now know what shenanigans my kids are going to try in order to have sex behind my back.  I'm totally on the defensive now.  I don't need some dirty perv emitting random teenage semen around my house, and Wikihow has given me the tools to keep my house free from clandestine sex and/or semen!  I do however, take issue with the following tip:

Take it from me and an experience I had in southern Utah.  Car sex is a horrible idea.  It's cramped, it can be stifling hot, and because there's so many windows, there is a high potential for getting caught in the act.  Take it from me.  Stick to a nice comfy bed where you belong.  But not my bed....  Wikihow taught me what you are planning, so don't even think about having sex on my comfy pillowtop...

Since Wikihow had entertained me twice in one night, I had even more faith that any question I asked could be answered.  I finally got my lover on board and he wanted to know "How to wipe my can."  Did Wikihow come through?  Not exactly.  It pulled up "How to Bathe a Guinea Pig" with that search, but it also pulled up this gem at the following URL:  https://www.wikihow.com/Remove-Butt-Hair

I know...  I had endless questions myself...  Like, how many people want to remove their butt hair and actually don't know the first thing about how to get started?  Or, how many requests for a butt shaving tutorial have the editors at Wikihow gotten?  And what brand of lotion exactly would you recommend that I put on my butt?

I finally finished my Wikihow search on butt wiping and noticed that there was a "random" option on the webpage.  I almost thought my night couldn't get any better.  Are you kidding me Wikihow?  You will randomly select something fantastic for me to learn about that is going to beat everything I had searched so far?!  I absolutely clicked the random button and like the 3 fantastic experiences I had had before, Wikihow did not let me down:

Yep.  I honestly don't remember how I used to entertain myself before the internet came along.  I tried to show my daughter Hannah how hilarious my searches were, but she was unimpressed.  Turns out she already knew about Wikihow but had failed to mention it to me despite the length of our friendship.  At least she guessed that I had asked Wikihow about sex, and since I showed her my search, she'll think twice about pulling this on any of the beds in my house:

Keep up the good work Wikihow.  I can't thank you enough.

I'm Hot for Teacher... (Not Really)

It's September so you know what that means!  S-C-H-O-O-L!  4 out of my 5 babies are in school this year.  We have always taken pictures of the girls on the first day because it's so cute to look back on them through the years and realize just how much they've grown.  Here are my babies for the 2018-2019 school year:

Hannah started community college which I am thrilled about because for awhile it looked like she wasn't even going to graduate from high school.  I wanted Jared to take a pic of her on her big day but that didn't happen.  The lack of picture might have occurred for 3 reasons:

1. I forgot to tell my lover to take the picture and because he's the dad, he forgot to do it

      2. I did tell my lover to take the picture but because he's the dad, he forgot to do it

     3. He tried to take the picture but because Hannah is a dick, she wouldn't let him do it

I've already gotten several texts from her in class so I'm pretty sure she's going.  Plus, she bought her own books and she definitely wouldn't have wasted her money on books to pretend she was going.  So in honor of Hannah, here's her first day pic:

Guess who else is in school?

That's right!  I am!  I took this on my first day of class in statistics.  Since I have decided to get my post masters certificate as a Family Nurse Practitioner (FNP), and my last statistics course is well over 10 years old, I had to retake it again prior to my real classes starting in January.  This is my third time taking stats so I'm hoping it won't be too bad.  It was both nice and kind of weird to be back in a college course again.  I think I'm about the same age as the teacher and all of the other students looked young enough that I could be their mommy.  I listened to the lecture, took notes, and spoke to the professor after class so that it would be clear to the baby students that I can be a class A brown noser if necessary...  I even got my homework done this week and emailed it to my teach like he asked.  Here's the distribution table I made.  

Lily offered to help me with the table.  I asked her how she thought it would look if my professor found out my 6th grader was doing my homework for me.  Besides, if it's wrong, I am sure both the professor and my stupid brother Jameson who teaches math at Dixie College will let me know.

I'm really hoping I get accepted to the FNP program I applied to in January since it looks like stats is going to be ok.  I'm getting older and need something to fall back on when I can't kneel down, lie on the floor, or otherwise chase perineums around in labor like I do now!  Who knows, maybe I can get a job in an Instacare somewhere and drain cysts or set bones or maybe even remove splinters from people's eyes.  My future is limitless really.  I've been delivering babies and spelunking in vaginas for so long now, that I'm not totally sure I would know what to do if I gave them up, but for now, I'll just see how things go.  If anyone needs a study partner I'm ready...  I'll bring some extra pencils... 

Glamping

I moved to the Ocean State just over 2 years ago.  Since I didn't have my family, and had only the belongings that fit into my Honda, there were lots of activities I missed out on.  Motorcycle cruising for one.  Yelling at my kids to "SHUT UP" on roadtrips for another.  And the biggest thing I missed two years worth of?  The Johanson Family Campouts!  I have blogged about these trips before of course.  The hole digging to China, my lover flopped on an inner tube for hours on end both on shore and on various bodies of water...  I absolutely love camping, and have almost convinced my kids (except for Hannah who hates everything I like) that it is the best thing ever to do with a week of your summer vacation.

I was a little nervous given that camping out here in the east is totally different than in Idaho.  For starters, I couldn't go to the dump and salvage all the wood I would need to burn down a small city for free.  I certainly didn't have any mountains around to camp in either...  Well, not what I classify as mountains anyway.  I wasn't going to have Bear Lake, Panguitch Lake, Warm River, or any of the other favorite sites that I enjoy watching my kids cover themselves in filth from.  In fact, Jared was so bummed about not having any real mountains around, that he wouldn't even get a campsite reserved despite my incessant nagging for months on end.  I finally had to do some research and reserve the site myself since I didn't want all the sites to fill up like they always do in Idaho.  Where did we go?  Well, the White Mountains of New Hampshire.  Did we have a good time?  You bet we did!

There were the multiple waterfall hikes we went on:

Tons of covered bridges:

Hidden lakes that I thought I would die hiking to:

And binoculars that Bubba used to spy on everyone and everything the entire trip:

Let's also not forget that Bubba went on a Canoe ride with Emma and Lily and then cried and screamed, "I'M GONNA DIE OUT HERE AND MOM AND DAD WILL NEVER KNOW!"  Even though Jared and I could see her from the shore.  Quality memories people.  

We had a blast, but there were several differences that I noted which made New England camping distinctly different than what I am used to.  I'll limit the list to just 10:

1. We heard freeway traffic all night while sleeping in our tent - NOT a rushing river or crickets
2. I still could not see the stars because of all the light pollution
3. There were coin operated showers that were luxurious.  I didn't know what to do without stinky underpants
4. There was a dryer at the camp for wet clothes and towels
5. There was a sink with hot water on tap to wash your dishes with
6. The more primitive Federal sites without the amenities were only 3 dollars less expensive per night
7. All the campers wore normal, clean, clothes.  The women often put on makeup in the bathrooms and actually did up their hair   
8. We were one of the few campers with a truck
9. I didn't see anyone else with a dutch oven
10. They had a lodge where you could buy all sorts of stuff you forgot including air mattresses, batteries, ice, and Dinty Moore stew

In some ways, it was like being on Mars.  But in others, it was really comfortable and delightful, and I'm glad none of my Idaho peeps saw me in my trashy camp clothes enjoying my luxury!  What's next for the Johanson's after another successful camping trip?  Well, Jared is more motivated to take the campsite reins back.  He thinks he might look in Maine or maybe the Berkshires for a more rustic and isolated spot.  I'm voting for another lake so we can take the canoe out again and have Bubba scream for her life for 20 minutes.  Maybe we can find more hidden waterfalls or lakes.  Whatever the next adventure, this trip has taught me I can be happy anywhere... as long as there's a clothes dryer on site...  

Where or where has my little dog gone...?

Over three months since I've written?  Are you kidding me?  Where have I been you might ask?  Well, to be honest, I was going through some major stressors and ended up with some fairly deep depression.  Not as bad as the postpartum depression I got after Hannah mind you - no hiding in closets or trying to plan my escape from my life...  Nah, this time I just cried a lot and spent inordinate amounts of time blaming myself for every decision I have made in the last two years.  For anyone that has suffered from depression, it can be really difficult to function, let alone do anything extra like maintain a blog.  In addition, because I am still not rich or famous, even after blogging about all the douchy things I do all the time, I figured no one was paying any attention to me so I decided to give up the blog forever.  Even after giving up the blog, my despair continued to deepen.  When I couldn't take it one moment longer, I found this nice male psychologist who laughed at my jokes, told me that he thought I was coping well with everything, and to continue forward living my life.  He gave me a few voodoo tricks to use when I was feeling really down and after a few sessions, I was right as rain.  We never really got around to discussing my blog because I had given it up before I met him.  I'm sort of glad now because I'm pretty sure our counseling sessions would have taken a completely different turn if he knew what I was really like.

Since several people (two) had heard about my blog and wanted the address, I decided it was probably time to get going on it again.  Plus, when my emotions are stable, I am far more likely to sit around being a giant douche and therefore have lots of potential posts to share.   What have my fans missed for the last several months?  Well, a lot to be honest.  Too much for me to discuss all in one sitting in fact.  However, here are a few highlights...

• I discovered the foundation to what Jared thinks is a sizable old garage in my garden space.  Add in the four stumps I already knew I needed to remove from back there and the digging we have been doing has turned the garden area into a trench any WWI history buff would be proud to see - minus the land mines of course...

• Rhode Island, like the rest of the East Coast, has been stuck in a heat wave.  The amount of sweating I have done this summer could have been conserved to water the entire area of my trench warfare reenactment... provided I had thought ahead sooner...

• I bought a canoe for my upcoming camping trip and when I took it out on a second run, I spent a good 30 minutes going around in a big circle, yelling at Hannah the whole time to stop paddling like an idiot.  When Jared arrived to the lake we were paddling on, he quickly determined that we were sitting in the canoe backwards.  For anyone that has ever wondered what would happen if you paddled in a backwards canoe...  well, read above.

I've had lots more adventures these last couple of months but by far my favorite may have happened yesterday.  I had taken the kids to the Six Flags water park just to escape the oppressive heat and humidity.  When we finally walked into the water park section, I was sweating so profusely, I almost could not peel my clothes off.  Then when I tried to get my swimsuit on, I almost couldn't pull it up.  Do you know how uncomfortable it is to try and yank a swimsuit over your fat belly and instead you just stand there watching your belly button writhe around on the jiggling fat boat it lives in as you yank it to and fro?  Do you know how awful it is to try to answer all the embarrassing questions your kids are asking at the tops of their lungs about why you can't pull your suit up over your large caboose?  Luckily, I have no pride, so I just kept at my ridiculous fat dance until mission was accomplished - detractors be damned.  I did have a moment of sadness when I realized my grandmother used to do the same dance getting her girdle on in the mornings and I had asked all the same questions of her that my kids asked me yesterday.  All it took was a little humidity to put me in my place.  Sorry Camilla D...  you deserved better.

If you think for one second that was the best part of the day, then you would be mistaken!  The best part was when Bubba, who had worn her suit to the park, realized she had forgotten her panties.  When she peeled her wet suit off (with some difficulty I might add) I told her just to go commando and wear her shorts home.  She looked at me with a look of terror and began to kick and whine and scream about going commando.  "I can't stand the way that feels mom! I can't go without my panties!"  It didn't take me long to realize that this was a battle I did not care to win because I certainly wouldn't have any peace if I did.  I asked her what her plan was and that wet suit was back on in a flash.  A kid that won't go commando?  Isn't there some sort of mental health or child development questionnaire that deducts points from a kid NOT willing to ditch their skivvies?  This can't possibly be normal.  Besides, she's my kid, which automatically means she's willing to compromise on all sorts of daily functions from hygiene to sleeping arrangements.  And if you don't like my genetics argument, then how about this:

We've spent a lot of time at RI beaches this summer to beat the heat.  This happens to be at Fort Wetherill.  Bubba announced quite quickly after getting in that she had peed.  A few weeks before, she had asked at Beavertail State Park if she could pee in the ocean for fun.  I of course said yes and down to the surf she raced, eager to share her bodily fluids with the marine life lucky enough to swim her way.  Now, you tell me why a kid who LOVES to urinate in the ocean, has the class to boycott commando status?  It makes no sense!  

Oh well, as usual, I'm not going to discourage weird behavior with very much gusto, because at least it gives me something to blog about!  That's right Dr. McGlinchey!  I'm back.  And you should have done your homework before telling me I was A-ok, because I'll likely only get worse from here...  

Mommy Dearest

It's getting close to a year since I left Idaho for good.  Which also means it's been nearly a year since I've laid eyes on my mommy.  I talk to her a lot on the phone, but it's not quite the same as having her physically near me.  I miss Sunday dinners, and going to lunch, and...  ok I mainly miss having someone help me with all my grunt work - which I could always con my mom into doing with me.  For instance, it would have been really helpful to have her here this week when I decided to start ripping out the hideous shower in my basement the previous owner began to build:

Look at that tile work!  I just took that pic for a before and after montage I hope to brag about one day, but any idiot can see what a HORRIBLE job Maria and her cronies did on that shower.  Look at the floor!  And what of the walls?  You can't see it but each wall has a different decorative strip on it.  Did they just have a bunch of leftover tile that they wanted to use up?  Did someone give them mismatched tile for free?  Or is it what I expect and the previous owners had no clue what they were doing and actually thought their handiwork looked good?  Although I will likely never know the truth behind the idiocy, I started ripping out Maria's shower for three very good reasons:

• I get bored to tears working on one job and ripping something out keeps me on my game

• It costs a minimum of 35 bucks to haul stuff to the dump so I'm trying to fill up the truck bed completely

• My mom is coming to visit in a few weeks and if she sees what a trash hole I'm living in, she might help me fiddle around on stuff without me guilting her into it!

Before you get excited and feel sorry for my mom...  DON'T!  She's to blame for her own predicament because she didn't dump me in a field and run away from me when I was younger.  Additionally, she's a lunatic just like me and deserves no mercy.  Think I'm kidding?  Check this out:

I had one lonely hot dog bun I wanted to get rid of so I toasted it up for Emma for breakfast and told her it was "New England Style Toast."  She was happy as a clam to eat it, and I saved Mother Earth by not wasting food.  What does that crime have to do with my mom?  When I was younger, she was constantly renaming things to trick us into thinking we were fancy.  When I hoodwinked Emma, I actually beamed with pride because it felt exactly like something my mom would think up.

I was also feeling sentimental towards my mom this week because my youngest baby controls my life just like her baby still does.  No matter how much I try to resist, Bubba has me wrapped around her finger and it's shameful.  Look at these two videos I Snapchatted a few days ago when I was trying (unsuccessfully as usual) to get her into bed:

If you think her baby, who almost has two babies of his own, does not run her life...  Well then you haven't seen those two hanging out together.  It's disgusting.  Take my word for it.

All of the above had me pondering my mom a lot this week, but when I stepped on the scale and saw that I really needed to lose a few pounds, I realized I needed a better food scale than the cheap one Jared bought at Walmart.  My mommy has a really nice food scale that I commandeered for months (ok fine years) at a time when I was an Idahoan, because I was too cheap to buy my own.  I bought the exact scale my mom has and that little sucker set me back 50 bucks!  I was appalled:

but then happy, because I know how good that scale is, and am confident it's going to help me lose some weight before summer really gets going around here.  If I had NOT stolen my mom's scale for years on end, I might never have known what food scale would have made me the most happy.  If you haven't figured it out yet, this whole post is a back door way to say I miss my mom and am getting excited to see her in person in a few weeks.  I love you Preen, but I hope I made it clear you better be bringing your tool belt if you want a ride to my place from the airport...

Slow but Steady

Today an old family friend texted me to tell me he was looking back on my blog and couldn't believe I've been in Rhode Island for two years.  This good friend shall remain nameless because he is sort of neurotic and worried about who might know he is reading my blog.  He is also rather rude because he immediately began to ridicule me for the amount of destruction I have already kicked up in my new house.  I had to admit to him that every word was true, and that even if I wanted to move, I wouldn't be able to talk another sucker into buying my trash heap right now.  I started thinking about what I was doing in Idaho right before I left for Rhode Island (forgive the bad selfie.  I am not my teens):

And guess what?  I'm in the middle of it here.  I sometimes feel overwhelmed because literally everything in this house needs to be updated.  I wonder why I can't just sometimes be normal and either buy a new construction home, or else buy something that's already been renovated.  However, I'm too cheap to pay for something that's been renovated, and can't stand new construction homes.  Plus, there's a satisfaction in seeing something transform underneath my rather skilled hands (and yes, I do say so myself).  So although I can't stand my horrible rotting fence and the huge vegetation pile leftover from my yard cleansing last summer...

and though I detest that my three season porch still has a pile of garbage underneath it, I have to remind myself that I've hauled away tons of garbage already and am slowly getting the jungle that dominated the entire yard tamed with borders and mulch, and almost have flowers I started from seed ready to be planted:

I also have to remember that the idiotic half walls Maria and her amigos built on top of cheap ass tile that wasn't sealed properly...

Have been nearly replaced with a lovely new storage room that Jared and I built with our bare hands.  Here's the front and back...

And although the lovely wet bar and mural of what I am guessing is part of the Azores is still a part of my life...

Every trace of Maria and her packrat nonsense is gone from my finished front room:

So go ahead and laugh nameless family friend.  I'll have the last laugh in the end.  And for the umpteenth time:  So long Maria.  You still don't get your house, your pipe, or the VFW hat I just found in the attic back... so don't even ask...