Experienced Hamster Mommy

My parents have a rental house with no renters.  There is a freeloader though...some sort of animal in the basement.  Obviously, they didn't need to call animal control since they have four kids, all within a 20 minute drive.

Unfortunately, Christian, my youngest brother, was out of town the day my mom decided it was time to set the live trap.  I was the obvious next choice because of my six minute proximity and love of animals.  I am also an experienced live trapper.  I got one for Christmas when I was eleven so I could catch wild animals at The Land.

We bought our new live trap at Lowe's.  It was the only one they had.  I put it in the back of my car and went home to put it together.  After pulling the smelly box out of my backseat and starting to read the directions, I noticed something funny about them.  It almost looked like the edges of the paper had been burnt.

I thought it was odd, but continued to try and assemble the cage.  After cutting my hand, I enlisted my husband to help while I investigated the mysterious "burnt" directions and odd smell.  I looked in the box to find tons of rodent droppings.  I then realized that I recognized the odd smell from my days as a hamster mommy - rodent urine.  Luckily I had my tetanus shot when I was pregnant.

I guess it was such an awesome live trap that something decided to make it home.  Unfortunately, the freeloader in the basement does not agree with the live trap's former resident.  We set it a week ago and had no activity.  Maybe the freeloader doesn't like used homes...or maybe the freeloader was the dead squirrel that Sammy, my other brother, disposed of a few months ago.  Hmmm.

The Straw that Broke the Llama's Back

I have always been obsessed with animals.  I was excited when mice got in the house, delighted when I saw seagulls circling the trash at the dump, and overjoyed when "french fry birds" harassed me at McDonald's.  Unfortunately, animals have not always loved me back.  I am about to reveal a highly disturbing story to you...brace yourselves.

When I was little, I was attacked by a llama.  I remember toddling around a petting zoo with my parents and grandparents (Gaga and Papa).  While attempting to pet a baby chicken that was walking around, I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.  I specifically remember, saying "Look, a camel."  I guess this was the straw that broke the llama's back.

The allure of the "camel" quickly wore off and I turned around to go try and touch more animals.  The llama reached his head through the fence and grabbed me by the back of my OshKoshes.  He proceeded to try and pull me into the fenced in area.  As he was slamming my little body into the fence, Gaga ran over and wedged her body in between me and fence to soften the blows.  The attack ended when Papa punched the llama in the face.  I walked away unscathed, but with a fear of llamas.  I am sure my parents were terrified.

In all seriousness, they are a pretty dangerous animal.  Llamas are used to protect herds from intruders, like wild dogs.  Phillip, a llama that belonged to a neighbor tried to attack our Silky Terrier, Shaq, once...but that's a whole other story.  Personally, I don't think that something that is supposed to maim and kill small animals in order to protect a herd should live in a petting zoo for children (aren't children small animals?).

Baby Ethan visited the zoo for the first time two days ago.  I was happy to see that there were no llamas there.  If I can teach Ethan anything, I hope it is to never turn your back on a llama and know your animals.  They may be insulted when you mistake them for a camel.

I don't trust that smiling llama for one second!

True Mud

I have recently realized that Baby Ethan probably shouldn't be watching things like Game of Thrones and The Real Housewives of New Jersey with me.  He might have nightmares about dragons with Jersey accents (scary!).  So, I have started trying out a few kids shows.  After watching things like The Wiggles, Babar, and Baby Einstein, I always want to go....where the air is sweet!  Can you tell me how to get...how to get to Sesame street?

Everyone should know that Sesame Street is as awesome now as when we were little.  The other day, I noticed that Big Ethan and I were watching it while the baby was quietly playing in his bouncy saucer.  Please note that I noticed and still didn't change the channel.  I enjoyed learning about the letter "V" and gemstones for the next twenty minutes.  Glorious!

If you don't believe me that Sesame Street is awesome, please watch the following videos which are a sample of what is providing me (ohhh and Baby Ethan) with hours of entertainment:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q8kLlNt3Ue4&feature=relmfu
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zkd5dJIVjgM

Who needs Game of Thrones when you can watch True Mud?

Cute and Fun with a Scratchy Tongue

Today has not been the easiest day.  I was randomly hungover after splitting a bottle of wine with my sister last night.  Also, Baby Ethan was off of his normal nap scheduled.  These two things are a killer combination.  As I count down the minutes until Big Ethan gets home, I will reflect on three funny thoughts that I had today.

I have probably said this to all four of you who read my blog, but I hate the pretzels in chex mix.  As I sat in bed shoving the 100 calorie chex mix pack into my mouth (wishing it were a cheeseburger), I was pretty pissed off.  The bag was mostly pretzel.  What a rip-off.

As I was waiting for Baby Ethan to take a nap, we played with a new toy.  It's a cube that has an animal on each side: a horse, a cat, a dog, a cow, a sheep, and a duck.  When you press the animal, it says what it is, makes the animal noise, and then sings a song.  I think we should all quit our jobs and become song writers for kid's toys.  The songs are creepy and ridiculous.  The following is what I heard all morning:  "Cat.  Meow.  I'm a cat and I have soft fur.  I am cute and fun with a scratchy tongue.  When I'm happy, hear me Purrrr!"

Finally, nap time arrived and I crawled into bed wearing my comfy Kermit the Frog shirt.  I fell asleep quickly and woke up quickly to Fiona howling like a werewolf.  I have never heard the dog howl before in my life.  It made me wonder if she's been watching season three of True Blood (the season with the werewolves) with me and Big Ethan.

Baby crying again.  Time to go!  "Cow.  Moooo.  I'm a cow.  I'm black and white.  I like to eat grass all day and night because I'm a cow...and how!"

Mommy Blogger

Up to this point, I have not written much about being a mommy.  To tell you the truth, I think I have been in a state of mild shock for the past six months.  I am still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I have a new person living in my house that I made.  I have never wanted to be a "mommy blogger", but let's be honest - being a mommy takes up more than 100% of my time.  Here are some things I have learned / pondered about being a beginner mommy:

Pregnancy is way too long.  Someone needs to do something about it.  The fact that it is counted in weeks makes it seem even longer.  As for the people who say that they loved being pregnant, I'm not sure I believe them.  My sister and I are trying to work out a situation where she is pregnant with the babies and I give birth to them...I'm not sure how that is going to work, but let's keep our fingers crossed we can magically make it happen.

I think people should enjoy giving birth and not judge other people for their "birth plans" (or lack there of).  Having a baby is scary enough...you don't need anyone stressing you out with their opinions.  I had an epidural and requested that my mother and husband act like nothing out of the ordinary was happening.  I got to listen to family gossip with the Today Show and HGTV on in the background.  I calmly pushed three times and then Baby Ethan was born.  Ethan and I split a Coke and then our family came in to meet their new obsession.  It was a great day full of joking around, some emotional tears, and lots of supportive family.  I couldn't have asked for anything more.

The beginning sucks.  You are in pain and you're not sure what to think of the new human that magically appeared.  Even though he lived off of me for close to ten months, he was a stranger to me.  Luckily, unconditional love sneaks up on you.  As soon as the pain wore off (about six weeks for me), I wanted to cry every time I noticed he was getting bigger.  That is how I knew I was in love with my baby boy.  I now feel guilty for not appreciating the days when he was tiny more than I did.  I will do better next time (if I'm not too busy chasing baby Ethan around the house).

In conclusion, the beginning is hard.  It is lonely and stressful, but it is worth it.  I will never get these moments back with my baby (tearing up again!).  I love him.  I am very lucky.

Bitter Kabuki

On a Valentine's Day not so long ago, Eric, Melissa, Ethan, and I met Curtis.  That is when our Saki Bomb induced love affair with the crazy head chef at Kabuto began.  Who wouldn't love a guy who cracks himself up, gets you free Saki, and refers to you and your husband as "the drinking couple"?  His hibachi skills are not the best, but it's never a boring night when Curtis is working your table.  If you go to the ghetto Kabuto on Midlothian Turnpike, request him.  There may be rap blaring from the kitchen, but you will barely notice if Curtis is cooking for you.

The last time we went to Kabuto, we did not have Curtis.  We had another guy whose skills were much better, but he never cracked a smile.  I remember him because when he did the infamous onion volcano, he put the fire out with a water bottle shaped like a little boy.  When you squeezed him, his pants came down and he "tinkled" water on the volcano.

Two nights ago at Yamato (we cheated on Kabuto because Yamato is closer), we saw the chef with the tinkling water bottle!  Of course, Ethan and I were curious why he was cheating on Kabuto.  After he spun an egg and cracked it on the side of his spatula, we asked him if he used to work at Kabuto's.

Let this be a lesson to us - never strike up conversation with a hibachi chef, unless it is Curtis.  There was no more entertainment after the question was asked.  Instead, he went on a tirade about the egotistical head chef of Kabuto!  He explained that Curtis insisted that each chef keep their own tip instead of tip sharing.  Apparently this is unfair to the chefs who aren't as good as Curtis.  He said it made the environment too competitive and that worse chefs cooked more quickly to get to other tables in order to make more money.  The non-smiling tinkling water bottle chef went on and on about how much he hated Curtis and how he had worked at more than five hibachi restaurants and never had such a selfish head chef. 

While this was going on, Ethan and I pretended to be interested and the other people at the table were clearly bored by the fact that there was no fire or shrimp tossing.  Maybe this is why the guy had worked at over five hibachi restaurants.  He claimed that Curtis' salt and pepper juggling skills were terrible, but I would rather have seen that than listen to him complain.

The bottom line is, don't complain about your competitors...it makes you look like the idiot.  If anything, it made Ethan and I miss Kabuto.  Long live Curtis!

The Rainbow Connection

Dear Daddy, thank you for...

Randomness:
I would say that my family is known for our random sense of humor.  We enjoy teasing each other and making what we consider to be witty comments about everything from dead armadillos to representative Anthony Weiner.  Doesn't every family think a dead armadillo should be sucked up into the underbelly of a car using the power of the air conditioning?  There is nothing better than when my dad makes a random comment at the dinner table and all of us end up in hysterical laughter.  We are very lucky that it happens pretty often!

Scaring my dates:
My dad's goal was to be the biggest pain in the rear end to my boyfriends, but the best father-in-law to my husband.  He greeted my dates by showing off his gun collection.  It was embarrassing at the time, but it served its purpose.  The hazing process made me end up with my husband who respects me and my family.

Letters:
During major events in my life, I have received wonderful letters from my father.  I can barely even write about them without tearing up.  These letters mean more to me than most of the conversations I have had in my life.  When times get tough, I can always read a letter from my dad and feel better.

My Brothers and Sister:
Both my parents did (and are still doing) an amazing job raising us. I can only imagine the mayhem they dealt with after having four kids in five years. When we were little, we didn't always get along.  I am still bitter about my brothers riding their bikes over an intricate chalk house I drew on our back patio. My sister is still scarred from the things I yelled at my brothers after seeing the tire marks. We still argue, but try and remember the lessons our parents taught us. Friends may come and go, but family is forever. I am lucky to have such a wonderful family.

Daddy, thank you for everything.  Thank you for loving me, Mommy, Sammy, Kelly, Christian, and Ethan Samuel.  You are an amazing father.

ACHOO

Ever walked out of a dark movie theatre into the light and felt the need to sneeze?  Apparently, it only happens to about a quarter of the population.  My dad, Baby Ethan, and I are in that lucky 25%.  My family has always described the phenomena as "the sun getting you", but apparently the technical term is the photic sneeze reflex.

So, what does that mean for us photic sneeze reflexees?  Basically, our nerves are playing a game of telephone.  Our eyes tell our brains to constrict our pupils.  Our brain didn't hear our eyes correctly and interprets the message as "you have a nose irritant.  sneeze, now!".

The most interesting thing I found out when reading about the photic sneeze reflex, is that many people who have this issue have other issues with how light is interpreted by the brain.  Apparently, it is no coincidence that my dad and I can't be in a room with any sort of strobing effect.  Sometimes a flickering candle, is enough to make me feel a migraine coming on.  Let's all cross our fingers that Baby Ethan only experiences the sneezing aspect of this phenomena!

I hope this sheds some light (haha!) on the photic sneeze reflex, also known as Autosomal Dominant Compelling Helioophthalmic Outburst Syndrome (ACHOO Syndrome).

Iguana Castles

While I was pregnant, I googled the weirdest things.  When I looked at my google history, I always wondered what people would think of me if they were using my computer and stumbled upon things I had searched.  Now that I'm not pregnant and am googling slightly less odd things, I thought I would share my last five googles....

Castle ABC
My husband, Ethan, gets really into TV shows.  If you have spoken with him recently, you've probably heard about Veronica Mars, Psych, Friday Night Lights, Royal Pains, or maybe even Game of Thrones (which will be the next obsession).  Last night, we watched the season finale of Castle and Kate Beckett was shot at the end of the show!  I had to google it to make sure that it was not the series finale.  According to google, it looks like Kate Beckett will probably survive the gun shot and Castle will be around for another season.  Phew!

Diverticulitis
Lately, lettuce has become my arch enemy.  Every time I eat it, I get a sharp pain in my stomach that lasts for hours.  After my mom threw out diverticulitis as an option, I decided to google it.  Since the pain is not in my lower abdomen and I am not over 40,  I don't think I'm a victim of Diverticulitis (or Diverticulosis...thanks, google!).

English Boodle
I am obsessed with my English Bulldog, Fiona.  My mom is obsessed with her Toy Poodle, Lucy.  Naturally, while sitting around the table the other day, the topic of a Bulldog / Poodle mix came up in conversation.  I immediately thought of a Bulldog with an Afro.  Unfortunately, the mix is not exactly what I pictured.  Fortunately, it is still cute!

Loud Noise and Babies

I am typically a pretty laid back mom.  I probably don't worry about things as much as I should.  I took Baby Ethan on a plane when he was three weeks old.  In retrospect, his immune system probably wasn't up for that trip yet (but he didn't get sick!).  I also like exposing him to new social situations (aka drinking establishments when we are on vacation).  However, when we went into Sloppy Joe's, my mommy instincts kicked in.  It was too loud.  Just as I read that babies should not be exposed to things over 90 decibels, Baby Ethan started to cry.  I got out of my chair to stroll him outside, but my dad was even quicker than I was!  He had Baby Ethan in his arms outside in seconds.  I guess his SamPa instincts kicked in.  He met another baby out of the street who was also escaping the Sloppy Joe's volume.  It was his first date.

How long can an iguana stay underwater?
Did you know that an iguana can stay underwater for 28.7 minutes?  I found out after a five foot long iguana took a swan dive over my mom and sister's boyfriend and into a pool.  As it turns out, my mom can get out of a pool very quickly.  I love Key West.

The Goat and the Bureau

Have you ever noticed that you say certain words or phrases that no one else around you says?  I have.  In this post, I will explore why I say the following: Channel Changer and Bureau

Channel Changer
Most of my contemporaries refer to this modern day miracle as the remote (or the Goat...watch Muppets from Space if you need an explanation).  After a little bit of googling, I found out that there is very little history on the term and the only people concerned with this debate are two teenagers who started a group of facebook, one of which is flicking off the camera in the group picture (classy).  In their findings only eight people of thirty used the phrase "Channel Changer".  I delved deeper into google and found out that "Channel Changer" was used to describe the dial that changed channels on old television sets.  As it turns out, I am using a remote control and not a channel changer!  I think I'll just refer to it as the Goat going forward.

Bureau
I am not referring to an organization (i.e. the Federal Bureau of Investigations).  I am referring to what others call a dresser or if you're from the south, a chest of drawers.  Google revealed that the term bureau comes from aristocratic England and is more commonly used in large cities.  That explains it!  I would like to thank my mother for the word bureau.  My mother grew up outside of Washington, D.C. (aha!  large city!).  Her ancestors came to St. Mary's City, Maryland with Lord Baltimore on the Ark and Dove in 1634.  My guess is that Lord Baltimore probably said bureau.

So, the words channel changer and bureau may have gone out of style more than a hundred years ago, but they are still alive and well in my family.  Time to fold some laundry and put Baby Ethan's clothes away in his bureau!

Noel Update

Noel (aka Frankenkitty) is now resting comfortably.  She came home from surgery Monday afternoon wearing a sweater made of gauze.  The vet told me to keep it on her so she would not try to groom her incision.  They gave me an Elizabethan collar in case the sweater came off.  Apparently Noel was not a fan of the gauze sweater fashion statement.  She wriggled out of it as soon as I got her home from the vet.

The sweater came off to reveal thirty staples, four tubes, and countless stitches.  The bizarre part was that she seemed totally unfazed.  After she took her sweater off, she was happy as a clam.  She walked right up to me and started purring. 

The purring stopped when I started chasing her around the room with the Elizabethan collar.  After cornering her in the bathroom (with the baby screaming from the other room), I was able to slip the collar over her head.  She was pissed.  Have you ever put clothing on a cat?  If you haven't, you should know that they walk backwards.  I don't get it, but they do.  After walking around the bathroom backwards for at least five minutes, Noel decided to pout underneath my bed.

Later that evening, I bribed her out with some vanilla ice cream (the only thing she likes more is string cheese).  I set her up on the end of my bed with her favorite blanket and she forgave me for putting the collar on her.

The craziest thing about all of this is that she is more bothered by the collar than the fact that she had a fourth of her mid-section removed.  It is amazing how resilient she is. She is happily knocking things off of my bedside table just like before.  She even managed to drink out of the toilet a day after surgery. 

At this point the only thing we can do is wait and see if the cancer makes a reappearance.  Unfortunately, it does come back in over 70% of cases.  I consider the surgery a success because at the very least, I have bought her time and the knowledge that I did what I could to help her.

This whole experience has made me realize how fragile humans are in comparison to animals.  If anything comparable happened to me, I would be in the hospital for weeks  The only real advantage we have is our intelligence (and sometimes that's questionable).

"Awesome Things" - Blogging inspired by a Blog

I appreciate the small and random things in life.  So, it is easy to see why the following blog is entertains me:
http://1000awesomethings.com/

Today my "awesome thing" is customer service providers who don't suck (sorry for using that word, but "sucking" is probably the nicest way I can describe most service providers...anyone ever talked to Comcast on the phone?).

About two months ago, I had unknowingly been flying through EZPass lanes, while my EZPass sat velcroed to my windshield doing nothing.  It wasn't until my friend and I were on our way downtown (my first night out since having the baby!), that I realized the EZPass wasn't working.  It's always a good feeling when the green light doesn't flash and you're forced to put the car in reverse, pull into a different lane, and scrounge up enough cash to pay the toll operator.

Last week the toll violations started rolling in!  I've never seen so many pictures of the back of my car.  Today, I bit the bullet and decided to call EZPass.  I'll save you the details, but it was my fault that the EZPass did not work.  I was ready to fork over the money when the customer service representative told me that since I didn't realize I was running the tolls, she would waive all the fines.

So, thank you to EZPass for my "awesome thing".  Did I mention my wait time on the phone was less than thirty seconds?  Awesome!

Noel

At the end of my pregnancy, Noel, my eight-year-old cat, had a small lump on her side.  I figured it was a fatty tumor since her behavior hadn't changed.  She was her usual self - tinkling in corners, begging for ice cream, and knocking glasses of water off of my bedside table and onto me in the middle of the night. 

When I feed Baby Ethan, Noel comes and sits on my lap.  During Ethan's Wednesday morning breakfast, I pet her and realized that the one lump had turned into many lumps (one of them was the size of a grape).  By that afternoon, I was sitting in the vet with Noel, listening to the vet explain the three different cancers that she may have.  As I tried not to burst into tears, the vet said things like, "It's unfortunate that the lumps are not in one of her legs, then we could just remove the leg".  After explaining that surgery may not even work, the vet told me a "nurse" would bring me a quote for the lumpectomy and that I should schedule the surgery with the receptionist.

So, I am now left with a difficult decision.  Logically, I should not be spending money on surgery for my eight year old cat.  I have a new baby.  I have a house.  I have expenses.  She is a cat.  She is a cat who I love.  I have known her for as long as I have known my husband.  It was just the two of us until we decided to add Blue, then Ethan, then Fiona, and now Baby Ethan.  We have been through a lot together in the past eight years.  She instinctively knows when I need comforting and is always there for me. She is not just a cat. She is my friend and the first member of my family.

On Monday, I am talking to a vet and family friend, who is going to give me his opinion.  Until then, I am stuck repeating this in my head: "She is a cat.  How can I put a price on a best friend and family member?  She is a cat...".

An Apology to Geese

As I drove to meet two friends for lunch with Baby Ethan crying in the backseat, I multi-tasked.  I had gotten myself and the baby out of the house in fifteen minutes.  The baby looked cute in his giraffe overalls and lime green shirt.  I hadn't showered and felt a sense of accomplishment for remembering to brush my teeth.

As Ethan quited down, I reached for my blush and started to apply my make-up.  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a bunch (a gaggle!) of geese by the side of the road.  There were tons of goose babies (goslings!) too.  I was instantly afraid that someone would hit them and wondered what kind of mother goose would take her babies by the side of the road.  As I judged the mother geese, I realized the irony.  I was putting on make-up while driving with my baby in the backseat.  What kind of person mother would take her eyes off the road to put on make-up?

I would like to formally apologize to geesekind for being so quick to judge and thank them for teaching me a lesson.

Why a blog?

I hate giving into to trends, but I have decided to start a blog.  In college, I majored in English Literature and considered doing a double concentration - Literature and Creative Writing.  I drank beer instead of taking the extra class.  Yum, Nattie!  I think it was a good choice considering an extra Creative Writing class wasn't going to help me bring in the big bucks (because English Majors typically bring in the big bucks).

Anyway, I have always loved to write and now seems like a good time in my life to pick it up again.  I am a mommy to a hilarious three month old, who I love.  I have recently gone from working 40 hours a week to 10 hours a week at a job that has been my primary focus and sense of accomplishment for the past 5 years.  With all this change, I think it will be nice to set aside some time to reflect and do something I enjoy.

I will be writing about anything that strikes me as funny.  Over the past few years, I have said, "I wish I had a blog so I could write about this" multiple times - like the day I drove to the ENT for vertigo and my GPS took me on the exit, then off the exit, then on the exit, then off the exit....you can see how helpful that was.  When I finally got the office, I stepped out of my car, only to be greeted by a soggy used Elmo diaper under my foot.  When I walked in, my doctor had a surgery that ran late and I had to reschedule.  I need a blog so I can write about these dirty diaper days!