The Truth About Cats and Dogs

Okay, so this really has nothing to do concerning cats and dogs. However, if you examine the two, you will notice that there are major differences between the two. One barks, the other meows, one growls, the other hisses so on and so on. I'm sure you get the picture. I'm not here to talk about either one. Oh no, I'm not here to talk about them.

As briefly mentioned on one of my earlier posts, I am the mother of five children: three girls and two boys. Now, unlike cats and dogs, boys and girls belong to the same species. They are both human, have the same amount of legs, arms, organs, and whatever. Blood flows through their veins and a heart pumps it for them. Half of the time they use their brains, and ninety-nine percent of the time they use their mouths (I'm not even sure "mouths" is a real word). You'd think that with all of that in common, they would behave in a similar pattern as well.

HA HA HA HA HA...Yeah, right.

I thought I was the perfect mom, you know? I had three girls, two of them were teenagers, and the last one was a perfect angel fairy princess pirate. It didn't matter what I was elbow deep into, be it supper or diapers, I knew it was okay for them to be alone, quiet, and in the other room. It was, for the most part, safe. Persephone played with her dolls, Caylith played with food, and Abigail played with whatever she could find. Yes, the angel fairy princess pirates would climb walls, dressers, and shelves in order to reach forbidden nail polish and daddy's candy, but for the most part they were safety girls. Their brother Atticus, on the other hand, is a rolling ball of dyn-O-mite.

Atticus is a boy...pure and simple. The first time he passed gas without his diaper on was the funniest moment in his entire life. He passed it, cracked up laughing, and then strained to do it again. I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel in his head he strained so hard. Now when he does it, he laughs, says "I pooted," "excuse me," and then strains to do it again. Leave him in a room alone and have it become quiet strikes fear into even the bravest of hearts. Earlier this morning he put that statement to the test.

While I was in another room changing the baby, Atticus decided to perform a science experiment. He went into the bathroom, and locked the door (no, not that kind of experiment, he's only two). His experiment required every toothbrush in the bathroom, a brand new tube of toothpaste, a fingernail clipper, tweezers, and several bobby pins. Each item was carefully placed into the toilet, which was then flushed repeatedly to see if they, like toilet paper, would go down into the secret hole. This was done, of course, in silent secrecy. When hearing me calling him, he closed the lid of the toilet, tried flushing it one more time, and then opened the door. Of course, when I walked in, all I could see was his little footprints scattered throughout the bathroom tile. I grabbed a towel, shooed him out of the bathroom, and began cleaning what I thought was a wet mess. HA HA HA! Boy did I get more than what I bargained for. I was up to my elbows in toilet water and toothbrushes.

Boys.

And yet, I have two of them.

Happy Mardi Gras?

Shiny beads sailing swiftly through the sky, metallic disks thrown from above, pretty, plushy stuff tossed through the air. Yes, it was Mardi Gras time. A time for fun, sun (finally), walking down the street with a bud (you pick which kind), and this year, for me, worry.

My mom lives in a small rural town (no street lights, not even one). However, on Fat Tuesday, her small town can literally sink into the swamps from the weight of the people attending the parish's (yes, we have parishes here, not countys) very last Mardi Gras parade. We usually spend the first half of the morning frying tortillias, making re-fried beans, boiling and deboning chickens, and shredding lettuce in order to lay out a Mexican style spread for the once a year guests that show up at her house for Fat Tuesday. My mom loves it. The parade passes right in front of her house. It's safe, it's fun, everyone has a good time, and it is an awesome people watching event. This year, it wasn't. This year my baby sister went into cardiac arrest on Tuesday morning.

She woke my brother-in-law up with a snorting that sounded similar to snoring. This caused him to push on her trying to get her to roll over possibly stopping the snore. When she didn't, he sat up and checked her a bit more carefully. She was gasping for breath. Thankfully, he didn't try to get her to stop, but called 911 instead. They arrived in three minutes and found my sister dead, her body still warm. After three tries with the defibrillator, my sister's heart began beating again. However, she failed to wake up. She was taken to the emergency room where a team of ER doctors and nurses worked to get her in stable condition which consisted of being placed on a ventilator and inducing a semi coma. She spent the day in trauma, and later that night was placed in ICU.

Her doctors are now running tests on her to check for brain activity in order to measure brain damage. It's a long test, taking four to five hours to complete. We've had a bit of good news though, finally after what seemed like one of the longest nights I've had in a while. Theresa opened her eyes this afternoon. She responded to questions by blinking her eyes and shaking her head (saying yes) in responses. When she looked at her husband, she cried. This is positive news and gives us something to hold on to.

What I've learned from this. You never get to say all that you need to say...no matter how hard you try. Sometimes you argue with the people you love even when you don't want to. We're human, it's what we do. I'm glad I'm getting a second chance to love, hate, laugh, shout, get angry, make up, go shopping, say no to fishing, and whatever else happens with my sister again. I'm glad I don't have to miss her.

CPR for the win, Alex.

Alex Needs!

Okay, so I swore up and down and down and up that I wouldn't give into these kinds of things, but this one is irresistible, so I must. Google your name followed by the word needs then list the results, if you wish to join in. I stole this from http://lovelettersbycora.blogspot.com/ , thanks.



Alex Needs:



1. Alex needs more than just a rat trap for this vermin. Actually, lately life has been pretty vermin free. That could be due to the fact that for the most part of this year I've been out of the work force, taking care of three children ages three and under, and homeless in a kinda sorta way. Not much of a social life, but takes care of the vermin for me.

2. Alex needs a new house and a guide to bring me back to the U.S. Yes, this one rings more than one bell. My house was invaded by two consecutive hurricanes. It currently stands (yes, it is still standing) wall less, floor less, mold less (woo), and people less. As for the guide that will bring me back to the U.S., if he can find my wandering mind, he's more than welcome to bring me back.

3. Alex needs full backing of Man. Man what? Mankind? Manhandled? Manford Man? And why just the back? If you're in need of Man, wouldn't you need all?

4. Alex needs anger management to curb her violent ways. But only in the car. I will confess, I am an avid road rager. But not an extremist. I don't honk. I don't stalk. I don't follow you until we are both stopped at a rail road crossing with a train speeding full force towards the crossing and waiting until it reaches our crossing before stepping on the gas while being parked behind. No, I wouldn't do that. But it was on a CSI episode.

5. Alex Needs Help. Mental, physical, financial...You name it...I need it.

6. Alex needs a lynching mob to go after her insurance company and give them a shake down so that I can get my insurance claim done so I can finally fix my storm wrecked house already.


What do YOU need?

WiTHDAoTFAMA?

Remember hooking up to the Internet on phone lines? The long wait, getting knocked offline in mid process, forgetting to turn off call waiting and getting knocked off again...yes, glory days. I had AOL. AOL had chat rooms! I LOOOOOVED chat rooms, especially the Book Shelf.

When I first started hopping into chat rooms, I was more of a silent watcher. I'd read the different conversations people were having, wonder why, if it were a book chat, weren't people chatting about books, and then eventually I began inserting my own bits of chatter. As I became a more involved chatter, I began noticing people typing LOL or BRB after certain things I would say. I wondered what was an Lohel? And why would people put BRB in response to what I was saying...are they burping? Is it a rude gesture? Was I sounding like an idiot in the chat room and no one liked me and no one wanted to be my friend and they were ALL OUT TO GET ME???

No...it was even worse. They were using acronyms. Yes, so here I was in the middle of the modern world trying to get computer savvy and being Internet cool while everyone else was using some secret code. They were LOL'ing and BRBing. Eventually I learned that it was ohkaaay when people LOL'd something you said because it meant that they thought you were quite clever. And BRB wasn't a burp or some secretly coded insult (good thing I caught on though because being the clueless chatter that I was I kept the conversation going without even knowing I was just talking to myself; Billy Idol had nothing on me). So here I was, keeping up with the best of the chatters, being cool, being modern. I was happening! Yeah, right.

Ever played an MMO? (I've been playing them for years and I still haven't a clue as to what that acronym stands for) Yes, I mean games like EQ, SWG, WoW. And I thought chat rooms were challenging. Enter a whole new world of acronyms. Yes, we have FTW, WTF, WTB, WTS, GTG, as well as the original LOL, BRB, and LMFAO. So, while trying your damnedest to defeat flesh eating zombies at Castle Mistmoore, healing the main tank, keeping the rest of your party members alive because you had to go ahead and make a healing class (boo on you), you also had to figure out what the clever using acronymist people in your group were tying to say. Can we say corpse run anyone?

Well, as the years passed, I became a fluent online gamespeaker. I am proud of my ability to understand auction chat, group chat, and general chat (I'm leaving lewt speak out of this...I won't even attempt that). However, as skilled as I have become in deciphering acronyms, I once again find myself entering into new acronym territory, blogspeak. And I thought the gaming world was rough. DH, FH, DW, SaHM, FIL, MIL, SMIL, SFIL, EW, and the list goes on and ON! I"m telling you. I was reading this one blog, and ran across the SaHM. I was killing myself trying to figure out what in the hell did SaHM mean??? By the time I decoded the meaning, I had to return to the top of the blog and start reading it over again. Wore me out!

I am getting better now though, I must admit. SaHM= Stay at home mom, although I'm sure you already knew this (I feel so ashamed). My skills at deciphering are being honed, although I'm sure that by the time I get to a professional level of blog acronyms, something new and trendy will rear it's ugly head...taunting and inviting me.

By the way, I don't text, so don't even go there.

Would a Rose Smell the Same?

"A rose by any other name would smell the same," frustratingly claims William Shakespeare's Juliet. But would it? If a rose would be named "swamp gas mustard pod," would a person willingly stick his nose into its gaseous petals? Not without conjuring the image of what something named swamp gas mustard pod would smell like. Would Alexander the Great of Macedonia! sound as powerful if he were Ralph the Great of Puxico? Great God in the Heavens Above, if that is so, then my babies are all in a world of trouble.

Persephone, pronounced "per sef oh knee," was the first of my attempts at naming a newly arrived soul to this place called Earth (think about it...what if Earth were really called Dirt or Mud then we'd live in either the Dirt or the Mud). Now you tell me, was her life influenced by her name? She's a middle aged teenager in high school, in the gifted drama and art program, sings, doesn't dance (thank God), writes, and spends her time anguishing over the fact that she wants to be a vegetarian but despises just about every vegetable except potatoes, beans, and lettuce. Moaning about the fate of the whales and desperately wanting world peace are two of her favorite pastimes. She wants to be an actress on Broadway or a painter in the streets of the French Quarter when she grows up. Persephone is a wonderful child. It would be impossible for me not to love the person she is becoming. However, does the fact that she also shares the name with the dramatic wife of the infamous Hades, ruler of the underworld, could have influenced the events of her life? Can a name be so powerful?

Caylith, pronounced cay lith, was my second attempt at the name game. She was going to be named Mercedes so that I could call her Sadie so that she could grow up and be spunky and cheerful and a member of the cheer squad. She was having none of that. No, she was definitely not a Mercedes...or even a Sadie. She was Caylith, queen dragon! And let me tell you, Miss Caylith was definitely the ruler of all. By the time she could speak, she had the world wrapped around her finger. Everyone was hers to command, even strange children in the park. Caylith is in her mid teens now, and I have to say that she grows to be more like a dragon everyday (except for eating her meat raw). She's independent, outspoken, fearless, among many other traits. As is her sister, Caylith is also in the gifted drama class. Her ambitions include becoming a director (as if she could take directions from anyone else), starring in her own movies, and marrying Orlando Bloom, Johnny Deep, and Jack Black. Polygamy anyone? So once again I ask, could the name have touched upon the sequence of events that have become her life? Hrmmm...

Years later I once again find myself doing the name game again. I have had three more lovely children. Abigail, who was almost named Antigony, Atticus, who was suppose to have been born before Abigail but decided to come a year after instead, and Avery, who was almost named Vorenus (he is probably thanking the name gods day and night for that name change). While life is just beginning, I can see them growing into their names. Will Abigail become wise, ever knowing? Will Atticus become the strong capable father and lawyer? And will Avery become the debonair lady killer...soft spoken, well groomed, polite?

Who knows...after all a name by any other name would be just the same!

Twist top

Remember when a twist top soda pop prize winning game was as easy as just twisting off the top and reading what was written on the underneath? "Free Dr. Pepper," "Superbowl tickets," or even the typical, "Please Try Again." Now all you get are codes that you must first go to the correctly indicated website, find this, search for that, then type in what is located under the cap (that is if you still have the cap of the beverage you consumed hours, if not days ago). Sounds a bit like life, doesn't it.

I wish. Of course then we'd be running around checking for codes on everything and everyone. Imagine your third date...you've finally reached the "let's get naked together" point (Okay, so maybe not the third date...choose your own). The lights dim, the music is on, and you're writing down the code so you can run home and plug it in so to see what you've won. With baited breath you wait anxiously as the information is processed: "Text message in 3 days" "Breakfast in the morning" "Did you use a condom?" "Oh, Yi-Yi" "Please Try Again." Life could be easier. Then again, it isn't a bottle of coke either.

Of course, in comparing life to twist tops, I've had my share of "Please Try Agains." The first one was a bottle of not so cute, but really sweet, warm, and fuzzy. While he wasn't the first cap I twisted off, he was definately the one I wanted to get fizzy with. However, when you shake the bottle, the fizz goes flat. I wasn't ready, he wanted to live in a tent, and winter gets cold...colder than a Klingon's proverb for revenge. We parted ways, and I was once again looking through the cooler for new beverages to try. And let me tell you, nothing is better than trying a new beverage...on the rocks!

When I met the second, not only did I twist off the top, I shook it up and poured it out, on, above, below...You name it! Woo! It was a merry-go-round of an affair. This one was cute, hot, wild, and fiesty. I had a reeling good time of it all. Honestly, I thought this one was going to last a bit longer than that, or even those. But like all good drinks you pour over ice, if you don't drink it fast, it gets watered down.

I drink tap water now. No twist offs. No codes. Better than a 2 liter.