Taking My Privilege for Granted

Caspian said something to me the other day that really struck a chord. I know that he didn't really mean it the way I took it, but honestly it was something I really needed to hear. The other night Caspian called on his way home and said that a co-worker and her husband might come over after work. I complained that the house wasn't ready for company, that I hadn't done anything with myself and I needed at least an hour to be ready for them. I said that I didn't want them to see myself or the house in the state they were in, to which he teased,

"What makes you think I want to see you and the house that way?"

It stopped me dead in my tracks. I said goodbye and frantically pulled myself and the house together, all the while thinking what a failure I was.

Now before I get so 1950's that you unsubscribe and take me off your blog rolls (all five of you nutty supporters you) hear me out. Caspian works 12-14 hours a day 5-6 days a week. He gets up at 5am, makes his own lunch, leaves, picks up his boss and arrives at work before I have even thought about rising for the day. He works very hard so I can have the privilege (yes it is a privilege and I am so lucky his job affords us this luxury, I don't know how working mothers do it!) to be the homemaker and primary caregiver to our children.

The thanks I give him in return? At least 4 days out of every 7 he comes home to a house that is messy, laundry still washing or in the hamper, unmade beds and dinner barely started or not at all. On top of that a wife still in her sweats, no make-up and hair in a ponytail. If he did the same kind of craptastic job that I do he would not only NOT be up for promotion, but demoted or possibly fired. Wow...

Caspian would never in a million years say anything to me about how I run and keep the house and myself to be mean. Never. Though his comment was said in a passive way I know that he meant it. I am ashamed at how I have conducted myself. My JOB is to take care of the house and children, and I am failing miserably.

Today that changes. I have decided that starting today the house will be clean, laundry done, beds changed and made, and dinner on the table when he comes in. I too will be presentable, with a smile on my face and a joy in my heart that he is once again home with the family he loves and loves him in return. Tomorrow I will get up with him, make coffee and have a moment just the two of us before he starts his day at work.

This will not only be a benefit for him, but for me, for us as a family. It gives us time to connect in the morning before we start our days individually. I also will feel the benefits of time to myself to regroup and focus on the coming day. Time to shower. Alone. Without interruption. That in itself is worth the trouble.

Today I am taking my profession seriously. Earning my keep and being proud of the privilege I have been afforded. If that makes me a throwback to 1950 so be it. At least I know that I am working at least half as hard as Caspian.

There's no place like home.

I have lived in the same place my whole life. At least in the same metro area, moving no more then 10 miles in any direction. It seems I am constantly running into people I know, or a friend of a friend every time I am out. Everything is familiar and though I have no sense of direction, I no longer get lost. I am Home.

Though my utter being is filled with hope, joy and pride as Caspian faces this step in his career, I find myself torn. I am scared to leave all that I have ever known. Afraid that I may not meet new friends. Terrified to learn a new place and surroundings. Uncertain of the unknown experiences and situations.

Over the last few months I find that I have pulled away from everyone but my family. Included in that family are my two best friends. Those I know will never desert me and will always find a way to be with me. Everyone else I have my doubts and instead of letting the distance separate us I have chosen to let life do it. Is this crazy? Sabotaging my own relationships? Absolutely. Do I regret it? Of course. Am I going to change it? No. I haven't been cruel, unkind, or purposely hurtful, so now that the ties have begun to sever, I am letting them. Protecting myself for the future.

My mom has already cried. She and I truly are the best of friends. We visit several times a week and talk at least once a day. Leaving her will be the worst...

Caspian assures me that we will love a change. We either go to snowy winters, or warm. There are so many things to do in these different places, he tells me. We can have company as much as I like....but it's not the same.

I have always known this was a possibility. In fact not just a possibility, but really a given. I had just retained the hope that we could find a way to stay here, but now that hope is lost. I know that this brings a better life for us, and that Caspian deserves what he has been working nearly half his life for.

There is just no place like home.

But there are HOODS and BUTTONS!

Muirne is not a typical girlie girl. Mostly in the sense that she could care less what she wears. I pick her clothes out every day and she gets dressed in whatever is laid out with out complaint.

Except jeans, pants with buttons or back pockets, and hooded tops.

These items send her into an emotional breakdown of epic proportions like all the puppies and kitties in the whole world were killed and she witnessed the carnage. That kind of meltdown. Mostly due to the fact that it's "not comfy" in her car seat.

I've tried several approaches to counter her distaste of all things hooded, pocketed or buttoned. I have sympathized, ignored, adjusted, threatened, even punished her outbursts, but nothing works. I have explained that jeans and hoodies are staples of every woman's wardrobe and that she better get used to it now, because it's going to be a long battle if she doesn't.

It's all in vain.

I longingly look at the adorable jeans, hoodies and embellished pants knowing that no matter the cute, the fury of the red-headed child is not worth it. Once again, I pull another pair of cotton pants off the rack with the coordinating hood-less top and sigh.

Addiction Comes in All Forms

For six years now I have been unable to fight it. I am all consumed and cannot do anything but succumb to the call. I tell my self that this year will be different. This year I will resist, I will not fall into the same patterns. I will break free. I do not have to let my life be controlled. I do not need it.

Then...I see it. I can't ignore the colors as it speaks to me. The sly smile beckons me as I feel sucked into the song and dance. The music floods my senses and once again I see what I can't resist.

"$14.95 With Each Purchase of Three Hallmark Cards"

The Squirrels have finally won.

Well nutty readers, I have made a difficult decision. I can no longer fight the Squirrelly-Ness of my life obligations and have decided that I need to cut back on some of my commitments. My juveniles need me even more in this new city, Caspian needs my support fully as he embarks on his new position, and I need to have time to myself that isn't filled with things that I need to do because I feel like I have to. I also have realized that with Caspian's new position, our anonymity as a family is more important, which means really scaling back on what I am able to share. That in itself frustrates me to the point that I lose my inspiration to write. Blogging is a way I was able to express myself without censoring, but in reality to keep my families best interests in heart, a censor is necessary.

A Bit Squirrelly is going into permanent hibernation.

Thank you for your support, advice, laughs and most of all friendship. I have enjoyed my brief stint in the blogging community immensely. My e-mail address will stay the same, so please feel free to drop a line anytime. This blog post will stay open for three days, then the blog will close.

XOXO,

It's Official. I Am One of THOSE Pet Owners

My dog is now on PROZAC people. I don't know what else to say.

Lizzard's Story

I want to preface this post with two things:

1. We really love Lizzard. It may not seem like it as you read this post, but we do love her.

2. We appreciate the Rescue Group for choosing us to adopt Lizzard and we really respect what they do, in fact we still donate to them.

Now that I have gotten that out of the way, here is the story of Lizzard joining the Squirrelly Gang and the events that lead up to the Trip to the Vet and Prozac yesterday.

September 2007: I was told that my Baby House had to be demoed (hysterectomy) though I would no longer have a uterus or cervix and I could no longer bear children I would get to keep my ovaries. Caspian and I had already decided that we would not be having any more children, but the finality of actually NOT BEING ABLE TO CARRY A CHILD was really hard for me. After a phone call to my dearest friend and almost sister Alandra to make sure that she and her husband did not meed my uterus for anything, my demolition was scheduled for October 2nd. The hysterectomy started the downward spiral of my quest to have something else to care for. This quest ended when Caspian agreed to adopting a dog. It was perfect. Fluffy, obedient, a companion. Just what I needed to help with my demo blues.

We had been in talks with a rescue group of Fox Terriers and they had an adorable Wire hair that they thought would be perfect for us as long as she did well with the kids. Well she did! She was affectionate, patient, non-aggressive and adorable. They did warn us of a couple issues she had. First and foremost she had been re-homed 5 times in 18 months. The first information that had on her was from the pound, so she had some separation anxiety. Secondly she was fence jumper and she did not come when called so we would have to be careful to not let her out. Third she chased squirrels. A Lot. Also she was anxious in the car. None of these issues seemed to be that big of a deal, and in comparison to Garbage Day. Garbage day that was not disclosed to us. Or the fact that she had leash issues and was not really afraid of RIDING in the car, but a fear of motor vehicles in general. All in all we were duped into believing that these were "minor issues" or just not told some of them at all.

One week after my Baby House Demo she came to live with us. Things were fine, we kept extra care to not let her escape the yard and we got in the habit of keeping a towel by the back door to wipe off her feet after she chased squirrels. We took her in the car on every trip imaginable and she began to settle in to our family. However, the honeymoon phase started to wear off.

I know, I know, we should not have taken on *any* animal in my state. We know that now, but at the time my hormones (or lack of functionality of them) had taken over and I needed to have something to care for. I was desperate to feel the completion of our family. The juveniles loved her, Caspian loved her, I loved her, but the added stress was building and her issues grew. Still I fought to make her the perfect fit.

As time went on she proved a perfect fit in many ways. She was super affectionate, very mellow, especially for a terrier, she was very good with not only our children but all children, like Golden Retriever good. She slept in her little bed at night, all night after a few months. She loved to be with us. All these great things make the bad things seem like we were dealing with the K-9 version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde.

As time progressed we tried all sorts of treatments, therapies, and training. We were gifted The Dog Whisperer DVD's for Christmas, we took her for morning walks (at 5:30am every day), my MIL (Gramma L) is trained in holistic Flower Essence Therapy for Cats and Dogs so she made several different concoctions for Lizzard. These were all on top of the obedience training she had already received from two (that we know of) previous owners. Nothing worked, though the walking seemed to be a little influential for following some commands.

Months passed and her Garbage Days turned into more nervous behavior every day of the week. She started getting up and pacing in the morning while Caspian got ready for work. She even would lay by the shower door and shake as he took his shower. She also began fearing all large vehicles which before she would acknowledge, but did not seem afraid of. She also started making our walks in the morning a traumatic experience to the point that I was afraid to continue them at all for fear of one of us getting really badly hurt, or worse once of us getting hit by a car. She also started peeing and pooping in the house. Not only when we were not home, but when we were just in the other room. Last Tuesday was the final straw. We talked long and hard about it, even speaking to my Gramma L about it and she was also in agreement that Lizzard was beyond normal behavior issues and we needed veterinary help. So Yesterday morning I took her in.

She was the perfect patient (she is also a favorite of the groomers) and after speaking to the most wonderful and compassionate vet we were given a Rx for Prozac and also the name of an animal specialist in behavior. We were also informed that she is not 3-4 years old like we thought but more like 6-7. Not a huge deal, but another lie to add to the list of those told to us by the rescue. We are dragging our feet on taking her to the specialist as of right now. We want to give the Prozac some time to work. That and we are using Rescue Remedy and Gramma L is working on some more essence therapy for her. Yesterday's bill alone for her was nearly $250. I am half considering billing the Rescue for it. I really feel we were terribly mislead.

For now we are accident free in the house and have made our yard completely roam friendly so she can bark and hunt squirrels as much as she likes. The Prozac seems to make her a bit sleepy, but other then that she seems to be handling it well. As I type this she is passed out at my feet. Her favorite spot when I am blogging.

That is the condensed version of The Story Of Lizzard. Any suggestions to how we can make this a home where we all can thrive would be appreciated. And a picture to leave you with:

WHY AM I PLANNING THE REUNION...

That I wasn't even going to attend???

And HOW did I get talked into doing it?? One word: Alandra.

Alandra is my BFF, like almost my sister, in fact most of the time I refer to her as such because we have been so close for so long. She and I have know each other since we were ten years old and she knows me inside and out. However I don't like that she can pretty much talk me into doing anything, and she knows it.

So while at her house about two months ago she informs me that she had been talking to a couple of our former classmates about the reunion. I already don't like where this conversation is going because there had been no reunion planned thus far. She then states that she told them that she and I were going to plan the reunion.

Umm...I WASN'T EVEN GOING TO GO TO THE REUNION!!!

I think all sorts of horrible, vulgar words and instead of stressing my total opposition I feel myself nodding in agreement to the planning and starting to pick out locations. Now I am pretty much coordinating the whole thing. FUDGE!! I don't want to do it! I have enough stuff going on in my personal life that I don't need this added stress.

NOT TO MENTION that I went to school with MORONS. I mean how many times do I have to send messages regarding the e-mail address in order to receive your invitations? Do I really need to post a blog on MySpace or message them all individually like MORE THEN ONCE??? C'mon people!

Oh and my favorite thing is the e-mails from those in my class who are informing me of what I need to do and what I am doing wrong. Umm, FIRST of all, were YOU planning anything before I took this task on? NO. Secondly, how about you SHUT THE DUCK UP if you don't even know what I have already done. M'Kay?? Great.

I am remembering why I didn't talk to 99.9% of these primates for the last decade--Evolution is definitely lacking with this group.

Alandra is lucky that her husband's family are fishermen and own a cannery and they are making me dinner tomorrow, which includes an appetizer of beverages at the wine bar or I might never speak to her again.

I promise to have a much more optimistic and appreciative post next time, but for tonight this is what I've got. It was either blog about it or "accidentally" delete alumni from the list.

Happy Holidays From Squirrelly-ville!

Enjoy all your loved ones this Holiday Season! Much love to you all!

xoxo,

The Squirrelly Gang

Free Chair to Good Home (with Bonus!)

Dark olive green over sized chair. Microfiber material. No stains or tears. Bought a few years ago, in excellent condition. Smoke-free home. *Free* to first person willing to pick it up under one condition: The dog stuck in it comes with it. Will not accept any returns due to the dog being mental. Will throw in a matching couch and bag of food if you pick up today.

Bins, Boxes and Packing Tape, Oh My!!

Okay so I opened my reader and was met with over 200 new posts. You have all been busy my bloggy friends! I will do my best to get caught up on posts when I take packing breaks. I considered dismantling my computer, but Caspian wisely suggested I leave it in case I need a sanity break. He knows me so well.

So, I am in the midst of trying to pack our house after being with Caspian for the last four days at my in-laws where we he has been staying. I pretty much have a place tacked down and are planning on moving in on Sunday. Yes, this weekend my dear nutty readers. That means counting yesterday from 3pm on, I have about 6 days to pack. My mother in law is taking the kids Friday until their rooms are set up on Sunday, so that will help some. Also we are picking up the moving truck and car trailer on Friday so we will have some extra time to load it before we have to actually move.

I am completely scatterbrained if you haven't gathered from the absolute lack of cohesive-ness of this post so I leave you now before you all wonder why in the hell you read my nonsense anyway.

Much love to you! I will do my best to check in on you all as soon as time allows!

xoxo,

But You Can Lick My Floors DAMMIT!

I like to clean. I like a clean environment, orderly, hygienic, borderline sanitary. I am what some would call OCD about certain aspects of my cleaning, not OCD like Monk or Melvin, but in the sense that I HAVE to vacuum all floors at least twice a day--sometimes 3 (or lets be honest there was an incident of 6 times of vacuuming in one day, in my defense I was caring for Loaner Baby and I had been sewing so I wanted to make sure there was nothing that could be eaten by the crawler she was). I also LOVE watching shows like Clean House and my all time fav How Clean Is Your House on the BBC (if you have not seen it OH. MY. GOD. Those Kim and Aggie are hilarious and the transformations--WHOA).

My need for cleanliness is surpassed and put to shame by my good friend Marie. Now before I go on, I have to state that I am totally jealous of the fact that not only is she a better housekeeper, but she lives in a fabulous neighborhood in a perfect house AND she is a single mom, oh and she cooks, REAL MEALS and her four year old eats them, I know, AMAZING. All of this contributes to my inferiority complex. Especially since I am very spoiled in the fact that I get to stay home all the time and therefore feel like I need to rise to the occasion and be Aud's BFF Martha Stewart (even though I don't like her hair).

Before I met her I was always the neatest, cleanest, OCD-est person (other then my mom) that I knew. I prided myself in the fact that my house was 10-30 minutes away from company ready at all times. That my laundry was always only a load away from complete and that my floors could be Swiffered and Hoovered to perfection in minutes. Since befriending her my efforts seem to be in vain.

The last time she came over I was vacuuming when she arrived. She asked when we got there if I was just vacuuming for them. I of couse said no, that I was just keeping up on the house and wanted to make sure that her little crawler didn't find anything and eat it. Truth be told, my house was still in recovery from the SGRT and I could not stand that she would be over and see my mess. She is not the judgemental type, and would never say anything about the state of my house, but I just can't stand the thought of her even thinking it.

Yesterday I spent much of the day cleaning out cabinets and re-organizing the bathrooms. A $250 grocery shopping trip sprung me into cleaning mode and I felt as if I could continue for days. My first thought when I was finished was how I hoped Marie would come visit today so she could see my house. WTH is wrong with me? That is just insane. First off, I should want her to visit so we can VISIT, not so I can show her my clean house. Secondly WHAT THE HELL is wrong with me that I need to show my unassuming, non-judgemental FRIEND that I can clean and reorganize???

I need help people. I mean I already have a Cleaning Chart for crying out loud. Comparing my cleanliness to my dear friend's is just sick and wrong. It's intervention time.

Nothing says comfort like Mattress Ranch

Still recovering from the sickness here in Squirrelly-ville, but had to share. After seeing these commercials I know exactly where we are buying the mattresses for our new guest room.

I Was Channelling Mozart (SFMTY)

Two summers in a row my old roommate and I took trips up to Canada for a week of learning about and soaking in another culture (okay so really we went up there to go to clubs and drink and party since we couldn't do that legally in the states yet). On the trip we would always stop in Seattle to blow off steam and see the sights. In Seattle was the huge famous toy store FAO Schwarz. You know the one where Tom Hanks jumps around playing the piano in the movie BIG (the link is a you tube clip of that scene)?

So me, thinking I am oh so cute and funny decides to reenact that and put my 8 years of piano lessons to use (my piano teacher would have been so proud). This resulted in this:

Not much else to say about that picture...it speaks for itself.

For more Sincerely 'Fro Me to You visit We Are That Family.

Blah Blah, COLD, blah, PROMOTION, Blah, ELECTION, Blah

You know when you have a cold and all you can hear is blah blah blah blah? Yeah that is where I am right now. Muirne brought home a WHOPPER of a head cold and of course me being like 22 years older then her I tend to get more extreme versions and stay sicker longer. Go me. So here I go passing on my blah blah blah to you.

The snot has almost completely taken over my head and sinuses and is starting it's way into my throat and chest. Should be a fun next few weeks. I plan on getting a Neti Pot. Don't know what a Neti Pot is? It was on OPRAH yo!

If the Neti pot doesn't work I figure going into a cold medicine coma is the next best thing. Of course I have to wait for Caspian to get home, get the kids in bed, then talk with him about the latest let-down. You heard it right, we will not be moving the Squirrelly-Gang as of yet, but he seems to think there we other opportunities knocking soon. He is the ultimate persuasion in my promotion positivity. I loves that man.

Of course since he isn't promoting right this minute that means I need to make sure Muirne is signed up for the next month of ballet, that I need to try and get squeezed into my Hair Goddess' books, and that I can at least for this week live life like a normal, settled suburban homemaker. This of course means a trip to Costco, which if you read McMommy you know is a freaking mortgage payment in itself. Yeah me again.

Since I will be at Costco signing away my retirement to pay for my super-sized box of Dino Chicken Nuggets, I should also buy some toilet paper. We are out. Again. Someone around here needs to make sure that quits happening. Isn't there someone in charge here that takes care of things like toiletries and bananas??? Oh wait....

Speaking of toilet paper, we also need some of those flush able toilet wipes and disinfecting surface wipes. I have an almost three year old BOY who LOVES his penie and with it getting bigger and all is missing aim. Even with this cold I can smell the pee in there. Yum.

If you really want something yummy--some food for a political brain--head over and visit Auds at Barking Mad and convince her (an me too) why your favorite candidate should get her vote!!

Now that my cold has totally taken over my brain and I actually typed the word POLITICAL on my nutty blog I must retire. Wish me a speedy recovery. The juveniles can only eat Mc Deaths so many times before they start asking for broccoli.

Gross. Is It Summer Yet?

Yeah, so fall in Squirrelly-Ville means the start of rainy season and frosty mornings. This leads to our back yard becoming a mud-pit, which means Lizzard goes from being fluffy and white to this on a daily basis:

This means I get to give her a bath at least once a day, usually twice. Is it Summer yet?

Any suggestions on how to keep her from getting like this? Anyone? Anyone?

Lizzard Has Been Banished To The Garage

at least until Loaner Baby goes home.

It is Tuesday again....**sigh**, on top of it all Loaner Baby has a cold, though I must say she is being a trooper. I pulled out the little people stuff for the Juveniles in the toy room and that seems to have them all happily occupied for a moment, which gives me the change to complain. I know, I know, Auds Attitude of Gratitude and all that. I am just NOT feeling it today.

Garbage day started off as every other garbage day but today seemed particularly bad. She has started showing more and more nervousness other days of the week too. Anyhoo she was freaking out as I was getting Smoothies ready and Muirne runs in to tell me she has pooed. IN THE HOUSE PEOPLE! Not only that but peed yet again. I cleaned up the mess put her in the garage with her bed and food and water dishes (all our chemicals are in cabinets so she is safe).

I call Caspian and whine to him (like he has nothing better to do then listen to me complain) we agree that we need to reconsider a visit to the vet for some sort of Prozac or sedative or both. Gramma L's bro in law is a vet and he suggested we consult with our vet for medication for her. We have an appointment Friday at 8:30am. Man...

At this point if she doesn't get better we don't know what we are going to do. We have not heard back from Cesar and we cannot return her to the rescue. The kids love her too much. I love her too, just not right now.

Any advice my five faithful readers?? I really need it. My family needs it. Most of all Lizzard needs it.