Socially Incompetent

Ugh.

Who would have thought interacting with others is a skill? One, if not practiced on a regular basis, that will grow stale and rot. Seriously.

This last Saturday Alex and I were social people -- which is a feat for us. We've spent many recent weekends sitting in our basement watching TV. Mainly old shows from the 70's, sci-fi, and fantasy stuff. Oh, man, the time we have spent in our basement. Poor JG, she hates being in the basement, and we're lazy enough to put up with her hating it.

Good thing she naps for two hour chunks on the weekends. How else could we so thoroughly waste our time?

Anyway.

Instead of being hermits this last weekend, we actually ventured out from our dark, comfortable cave, and broke bread with other people.

This is when I should mention, if you have forgotten, that I am a stay-at-home mother. I spend all of my time with a baby, who luckily for me is growing into a happy, smiling booger. (A 300% improvement over the screaming, crying thing she was for months.)

Now, spending all of this time with a tiny human who doesn't talk, who giggles when I gnaw on her belly, and expects me to carry her everywhere, has changed me.  It has made me socially incompetent.

This does not translate well to adult interactions.

I can't go up to friends and gnaw on their belly's... but, it's almost like I have to remind myself of this. In my head I have to think "okay, adults 'talk' about things, think of some sort of conversation starter."

And when I finally do talk, it's like the flood gates have opened and there is nothing I can do about what comes out and the speed at which it travels.

Friends, I am sorry if I talked your ears off, if I made little to no sense, and if it seemed like I was not finishing any of my thoughts. I didn't realize I was doing any of these things until I reflected on it later.

Oh, man, I am so socially incompetent. I can't even relax when I'm in the company of other people (husband doesn't count). Like any other talent, being social is something that needs to be flexed regularity.

I am so out of practice.

Good thing New Moon is coming out soon.  I have plans!  With people!  (We should probably figure out what time and place and stuff...)

Also, I'm thinking a crafting/sewing night or something would be cool.  Anybody up for that?  At my house?

However, I am warning you now.  I will talk your ear off.  You may leave thinking, "Who is that strange woman who couldn't edit anything before she spoke?  Who thinks poo is funny?"

Oh, yeah, that's me...

Fat Head

See?  JG sort of has a fat head.  It's an adorable fat head, especially with that hat her grandma made, but a fat head non-the-less.

I have been working on creative things... I'm just not very good at taking any pictures of my progress.  I'm in the process of making two new dolls and have a few "monsters" lying around.  This is my doodle of what I wanted it to look like:

And this is how it turned out:

He has a furry brown back and a fleece body and arms with felt "detailing."  His legs stick out kind of funny, but that's what you get the first time you make something.

I think it's kind of cute.  I'm working on the revision.

I don't think Maelly cares.

Cats in Ceilings

This last week I seriously started to question why I am the parent of two cats. Two injured, somewhat retarded cats.

As you know, Mael is diseased. And I was starting to feel pretty confident about his foot healing, up until he figured out how to move the cone so he could reach said food and lick it. With his sandpaper tongue. Which means it's taking forever for it to heal because he won't leave it alone.

Nevertheless, I was okay dealing with his foot.

Then, a chunk of fur fell off his rear right leg and revealed a new inflamed spot.

Effing cat.

To make kitty matters that much more interesting, Opal (who was loving and cuddly before the baby came, and is now hesitant and distant mixed with "You must hold me NOW") was in a fight (read attacked) with some tomcat and has two bites above her tail on her rear. They ooze. And the battle must have been quite the thing, because all the hair surrounding the bites is gone, like she was shaved.

So not just one injured cat, two. I keep looking at Stella and waiting for her to come up with something new (please dog, just don't).

And when Opal is sick or feels gross she prefers to hide. She spent a couple days in the cabinet with my baking pans. Another day with the towels (admittedly, she was accidentally closed in with them, so she couldn't have gone anywhere else if she wanted to). She also hid in JG's wardrobe, but that seems to be a kitty favorite.

Then, she found what to her must have been the celestial door to our basement ceiling (it's this weird opening at the back of our lazy-susan in the kitchen that gives her direct access). I wonder if she hears angels sing when that happens? The best part about her finding her way into the ceiling is that she really doesn't know how to get out. So I can be sitting there checking email or sewing, and hear her scratching, or meowing, from the heavens (read ceiling).

Whenever this happens (yes, this was not the first time) Alex starts to lament how she'll probably die up there and then we'll have to deal with the smell, and how will we find her corpse (by stink, I'm assuming) and blah, blah, blah.

She was in the ceiling for 48 hours.

Then Alex got the carpet knife (razor blade with a handle) out. Thank Jesus we have our awesome 70's acoustic tile ceiling, because it made it that much easier for him to cut out tiles (3), find her, and drag her out by the scruff.

Let me tell you, ceilings are dirty places, and she was one dusty kitty.

And my loving husband was very close to killing her. As was I. Doesn't she know I only have enough emotional real estate for ONE sick animal?

The best part? She got into another part of the ceiling the next morning.

Even better? Alex didn't have to cut anything to get to her.

Oh, man, I'm not sure I'm ever owning another cat.

I stink

Have you ever had one of those moments where you realize you forgot something?  Something that allows you to safely interact with the rest of the human population?

Like, say, deodorant?

Because, oh man, I woke up to get JG last night and when I laid down with her I was like, "What is that stink?" And the embarrassing thing is that it was ME (of course, this is four in the morning, so it's not like anybody else was smelling me... well, except for my infant, but she didn't complain).

I am one of those people who has to apply a smell shield every day, otherwise it's just dangerous to be around me.  Even with cutting out the dairy in my diet, I still stink.

At four a.m. it took me a moment to realize what was going on, and I had a flash back to me getting out of the shower and hearing the shrill screams of an upset baby up from her nap.  I always pause when I hear her cry when she's napping, because sometimes she'll calm herself down and go back to sleep.  However, this time she was angry, and once this child is angry she demands to be comforted, or she'll will throw herself into such a fit that her whole body shakes and she gets angry rashes on her face.

And the cry that accompanies this fit is something no living person should have to be in the same house with.

So in lieu of following my usual routine, I had to go calm JG down, and she was not happy when I had to put her down for two minutes to put clothes on.

Which means that at four in the morning I woke to my own stench.

And I'm really hoping she'll be in for a nap soon, because, oh man, I really need a shower.

New Moon invitation?

This may sound strange, seeing as how I never got through the Twilight book (mainly because I can't stand listening to a teenage girl whine, and it is NOT romantic for a boy to sneak in your room and watch you sleep -- that's called stalking and is EXTREMELY creepy) but I want to go see New Moon.

Mainly because I had a good time at Twilight.  And, yes, I did burst out in laughter multiple times, but luckily the girls (women, really) I was with weren't bothered by it.  If anything, they shared the moment when the vampire "dad" (can't remember his name...) walked out and looked like a talcum powder covered corpse who wasn't old enough to buy alcohol let alone practice medicine.

So, this is an open invite to those interested in going to see New Moon with me this **weekend (or whatever works).  I can't promise not to giggle or make fun of the movie afterwards.  But if you can find it in your heart to help a mother out, one in desperate need of spending time with adults, then I will be truly grateful.

Thank you.

Sincerely yours,
PoetsHead

**EDIT: As Jessica so correctly pointed out, this movie doesn't actually come out until Nov. 20.  My offer still stands, even if it is a month away.
(If you are interested leave a comment or email me if you have the address.  And if it helps to persuade you, I'll sneak some candy into the movie.)

A squid at my child and all I got was this picture

Five months ago I had this thing, this baby, and went from being clueless about babies to absolutely confused.

Whoever tells you that babies don't cry loudly... just tell them that you know better.  My child cries so well that her doctor says that she's "very opinionated."

She really doesn't hesitate to let you know if you're doing something she doesn't like.  And then, for no apparent reason, she laughs at the dog for ten minutes.

A dog who is doing nothing but sitting there.  Seriously.

She also finds the cone-cat very funny.

So, to mark her five-month birthday I am attempting to boot her out of her cradle in our room -- because she is much too large for it -- and finally putting her into her crib in her own room.  I predict that I will not be getting much sleep tonight, but the transition has to happen sometime.  Especially since she seems to try to move in her cradle, but she can't because she's so large in it, so she wakes up, which wakes me up, and now she's spending the majority of the night with me.

I need some sleep on my own man.

Like, now.

Blue Ribbon MOTHER-LOVERS!

Put that in your pipe and smoke it! Yeah! (If you squint past my grinning mug to the chicken with the blue ribbon dangling from his hand, that's what I'm all up in your grill about.)

This week has been interesting.

My cat (the one who is still available if you'd like to purchase him) is in his third week of wearing a cone on his head. Said cone was necessary because he would NOT stop licking his damned maimed foot. So not only have I been caring for JGR, I've also been nursing a sick cat back to health... which is not fun. I have stories... but, I won't share them out of fear of seriously grossing out my small pool of readers.

By the by, my cat has eosinophilic granulomas (warning, the pictures are gross, and he has had this in his mouth, paws, and neck), which requires steroid injections and guarantee's that he will eventually have diabetes. Awesome.

JGR has been refusing naps and bedtime, and screams/cries like crazy when I try to get her to sleep. Joy. It's times like these when I think of how naive high school girls are when they pursue pregnancy in hopes of bearing a bubbly happy baby. (Hey, this happened at my high school.)

Let me tell you, high school girl, do not do it. Babies are freakin' hard, and I've had to push all thoughts of dropping said baby, or throwing said baby, or doing anything un-motherly to said baby out of my head.

I don't want to go to prison.

So it's times like these when I thank the G-O-D that I live near both sets of grandparents and I can pawn her off on them. Er, I mean, have them care for her when I am unable.

She's going through a transition where certain things I'm used to working with her are no longer working. (I have to admit that when I say "things" I mean "boobs," and while they can be one of the last things I turn to, when my boobs don't work, I'm clueless as to how to help sooth her.) So, in hopes of figuring out what the (hell) is going on, we gave her some rice cereal tonight. She'll be five-months-old next week, and she seems to be hungry after I feed her, so why not?

And you know what? Fell asleep like a charm tonight. Cried a bit, but nothing compared to the last few nights.

Now I leave you with some kitty abuse. I don't know how he lives with himself.

These two make me exhausted. I'm going to bed.