Suburban Bliss:: Birth Control Via The Written Word

Young Logan, Without "The Hair"

I've been sitting outside in the sun totally nude for the last day, because it was 70 degrees out and it just felt like the only way to respond. I may have waited until we put the patio furniture out or, at the very least, got all the pine needles off the deck. They don't feel all that good in your arse if you were wondering.

[I wasn't really outside nude. FYI.]

Maddie and Max were out visiting my in laws a few weeks ago (with Logan, of course) and they gave us a few more pictures of Logan as a kid. I don't have many of these pictures and the one I do have, as a reminder:

Kind of makes me wonder how he ended up looking so incredibly handsome in the end.

But these latest shots I can totally see it and it makes me feel a little Mary Kay Letourneau.

I kind of picture Logan wearing athletic shorts (with the white trim), tube socks and Pony's while skateboarding to school in Napa, CA. (He really did skateboard to school in Napa but I'm not sure his parents allowed him to wear athletic shorts to school since they didn't allow jeans.)

It's creepy that this picture makes me want to jump my husband when he gets home tonight isn't it? I thought so. Sorry God.

This is Logan in 1982. In 1982 I was 9 years old. Logan was 14 years old. 

Who's robbing the cradle now? Oh, right....this is all in my own sick and twisted mind.

Summer Clothes

Well I kept trying to write last week but all that came out of my fingers was, "SICK!" and I don't want to write about how I'm sick. That's so Winter 2007-08 when my tonsils were trying to kill me. But apparently writing about being sick is what I want to do so let's just get it over with. 

I've been sick. 

When I'm not sick I've been sitting around planning what I'm going to wear on my girl's trip to Florida in June, I've been planning parties I want to throw this summer, I've been reading up on dog training (had our first class Saturday!), thinking about small inexpensive ways I can improve our living space. You know things that will make great content, once I actually do them. Let's talk about what I'm planning to buy for my summer wardrobe.

I'm traveling back to Seaside with a bunch of friends like I did last year. This year there are a lot more ladies coming along on the trip which is thrilling and terribly frightening. Yes I know har har Hormones! Sharing Living Quarters! DRAMA! But no, I'm not so much scared of the potential drama of 10-12 women on vacation together. 

I'm mostly scared because my one friend is like Logan, super outgoing and I am the kind of person who likes to hang out with 3-5 people at a time, preferably people I already know and feel comfortable being myself around. I've been trying to think about how to word this, it's difficult. 

When you don't know people very well, everything you do tells them a little more about you. So let's say you're on a vacation together and this one day you get really Hangry (angry and crabby because you're hungry). 

Your good friends know, "Oh, Melissa's hangry." New potential friends think, "Wow, what an inflexible pain in the ass."

See? Stressful. 

Additionally I seem to be drawn to people who are skinny and want to be skinnier (Please see, my Running Husband). So they go on wacky diets and strenuous work out plans and are constantly looking to lose "that last five pounds". This, stresses me out, especially when the goal is to be "thinner" by the time we go on our trip. 

Because, and this is my issue, it triggers some of my own disordered views about weight, worthiness and beauty.

So rather than thinking about how I can lose ten pounds before I go to Florida for a fun weekend with friends, I'm looking at clothes I'll feel pretty wearing and will feel good about my body in. 

Groundbreaking!

Have you seen the LL Bean signature collection? I've never worn yellow but I am so tempted to buy this skirt in yellow. What a great statement and the cut will be so flattering on me. 

 

I am a big fan of dresses for the summer because they're comfortable and feel more put together than a pair of shorts, which I find difficult to wear in a flattering way. This one is a little more on the dressy side, but I think it will be very wearable.

This top will go with a lot of the bottoms I already have and I always look for v-necks because it elongates my neck, at least in my mind. 

 

These might work as shorts, I'll have to try them on to be sure there's nothing less flattering than poorly proportioned shorts.  

 

Am I going to show you a plain cotton scarf? Yes, I am. I have an attraction to very boring clothes and when I wear a scarf suddenly I look as though I planned my look. I love the color of this one.

 

Loving a great necklace and what it can do to my v-neck tshirt and skirt uniform to make it look a little more like I intended to keep my wardrobe boring so my accessories could shine. This one is excellent.

 

The cut of this dress is very similar to one I bought four years ago and it's very flattering to my figure. Of course I bought the dress in beige and don't know what I was thinking, that I wanted to look like a bowl of oatmeal?  

 

I love the new ruffly/floraly cardigans at Old Navy. (The mannequins frighten me.) This one is a favorite, the rosette cardigan and this one. Never mind, give them all to me.

 

Cute shoes. Adorable price.

 

Here's the skirt I buy every year, it's my version of my winter yoga pants. (Don't worry I won't do yoga in it, you're welcome Yoga Class.)

I'm also debating buying a new bathing suit this year, the first one in 8 years. Eight. Years. Wow. I love this swim bottom, but I'm not seeing a top I could wear with it. (Full coverage, Florida says, "THANK YOU!")

 

Max is 9, we had a party

Max and his friend Adam have birthdays just a couple of weeks apart and they both wanted to see Diary Of A WImpy Kid: The Movie for their party. Since they share a lot of the same friends we decided to have a party together.

I made the invitations because Logan had a lot of stuff going on. I went to Wimp Yourself and made the WImpy Kid. Using my very rudimentary Illustrator skills I tried to give it the look of the book cover art, there's a reason I ended my art school degree pursuit after two semesters.

It's probably wise to be heavily sedated before taking 10 boys to a movie theater.

Wow. 

But I wasn't since I had to drive and also make sure no one was killed while I was responsible for them.

We picked the kids up after school on Friday giving them 20 minutes or so to run around on the playground to work off some energy (we hoped).

I gave a little pep talk about how we were going to behave in the movie theater before going in and had to do a little intervention when one boy was using his regular voice but it's the kind of voice that knocks the wind out of you.

However, when the movie came on, the boys were perfect. I'm sure they think I'm a little nuts because that's all I could talk about the rest of the evening, "Wow, you guys were SO GOOD! I'm so impressed! Way to go! Wow!"

After the movie we headed back to our house for pizza or cake where I gave them a second set of rules for the dog, who was actually really okay with the chaos, I think because she realized in the chaos pizza was probably going to fall on the floor.

Adam's dad made the cake.

He said it's not his best work.

I wonder what his best work looks like because I was pretty impressed by this "sub-par" cake.

I made the banner using the font Cooper.

Because the card stock I had was scrapbook sized and too large for my printer I used a technique I learned in Mr Washington's 2D design class in college. The class I was really enthusiastic about until he hated every single thing I did. It was incredible and obviously not my forte.

First print your letters out in the size you'd like for your banner.

Flip the paper over and run a pencil over all the area of the letter outline.

My pencil kept breaking so I ended up using a crayon for the rest of the letters (and half of this one obviously).

Now flip your paper over and place it on the paper you're going to use to make your banner's letters. Trace over the letter's outline with a pen, pressing firmly.

Here's what you end up with, now cut around it.

I used a white crayon to trace the letters onto the darker color papers.

And as a reminder, here's how it turned out. I hung string along the window and tried to hang the letters with appropriate kerning. I had reasonable success with that.

The party was lovely and after the last guest left at 8:30, I laid down on the sofa and passed out. The great thing about having an after school party on a Friday is that when it's over, you've still got the rest of your weekend left. Perfect.

Old Business

For quite a while this lady has had a site devoted to saying terrible things about other mothers and giving a forum to crazy accusations about various Mommy Bloggers.

I ignored it, truly believing the cost of saying what I want when I want is having people pretty annoyed by me. People who disagree and are mad about the fact that I can say what I want. That I have what they want. That I don't appreciate what I have as much as they would if they had what I have.  

I accepted that if people like me, people would hate me, will hate me in equal and opposite degrees. 

Fighting against one woman's site seemed a little silly. 

Michelle McBee was the author of that site. She has removed all her archives and posted a good bye letter at her site.

But it's important to note that Michelle McBee of Elk Grove, CA was extremely awful to many bloggers. She was happy to share my home address on her site.  

In her Goodbye Letter, Chicken Liver writes, " I think one of the more compassionate things someone can do is to care enough about your life and family to say so when you are irresponsible with them. So, I’ve felt compelled to tell people when they are making profound mistakes."

Except that she said my 11 year old daughter could "eat an apple through a picket fence" in one of her earliest posts (now gone, bravo to your google skills).

Michelle, I would fly to California to meet with you and talk about your concerns about the children of the bloggers you've featured on your site. 

You know how to reach me, you shared my address on your website (now gone, kudos).

Pinewood Derby 2010

Monday night I went to Max's Cub Scout Pinewood Derby and it was fun to see the cars the kids (and their dads) came up with. But then around hour 8 and bad emcee joke number 237 things got a little Soul Sucking.

Logan and Max had a lot of fun designing their car this year. Max drew the design and they brainstormed ideas to make it look like a Hot Rod, or rather a Max Rod.

It was a pretty sweet car, the engine came from a model car kit. You can see his last two cars, here and here.

The emcee was telling jokes to try and keep the boys from becoming wild animals. A useless farce because putting boys together in the same room is like putting a bunch of puppies in a pen and trying to distract them with jokes.

Some of the kids started to stand in line to tell their own jokes as the event wore on and Logan came up with a really good one. I would have given him a trophy if he'd stood up and said it.

It goes like this: "A priest, a rabbi and a gay Cub Scout leader walk into a bar!"

No, that was the punchline. The Cub Scouts have a problem with the gays apparently. They confuse them with pedophiles so they're not allowed to be den leaders.

On the one hand that's really stupid and shitty. But listen, Logan's been a den leader for the last few years and if I were gay? I'd just leave that little injustice alone, it's for your own good.

The boys are wild animals. I'm surprised Logan hasn't been mauled yet. He's debated showing up to a meeting dressed like a woman just to convince the Pack he's actually gay and shouldn't be allowed around the children.

Max lost, which was a bummer. But then we got to leave in under 9 hours so it was sort of a blessing in disguise.

Did They Eat It: Slow Cooker Turkey Breast

It was finally over 35 degrees and sunny outside meaning everyone in Michigan donned bathing suits and took to the streets. It was so downright balmy. So for dinner I decided to make something spring-ish and light! Turkey and Dressing Slow Cooker Casserole.

Yeah, not the light spring-ish dish I was looking for but I made the menu when it appeared the sun would never reappear in this hemisphere and I needed some delicious warm comfort food to get through.

My dog has a hug phobia.

Yesterday Logan and I took the dog on her afternoon walk into town and decided to grab a coffee while we were out. Logan went inside and I sat on a bench outside with Lucy.

Lucy likes walks that keep moving. She doesn't like to stop and when you do she shakes because she is scared. We make her sit every time we have to stop and this seems to help her feel a little more secure, knowing that she has to sit to please us. 

While she sits she watches for people who may want to look at her cute face and maybe, God forbid, pet her. She may also be concerned about their credit card debt, their emotional stability, whether or not they're saving for retirement. A lot of worries are going on in Lucy's mind. 

Most of the time people walk by and say "Hello cute puppy!" They smile and continue on their way. Other times they ask if they can pet my dog and I politely tell them, 'She's a rescue, so it's better if you let her come to you and pet her under her jaw rather than on top of her head."

Other times people barge right up sticking their hands in her face to try and pet her. The problem is Lucy would rather you keep your damn hands to yourself. 

Yesterday while I sat outside the coffee shop a woman came walking up, she was talking to her friend so I assumed they would be one of the "Hello cute pup!" people and keep right on walking. But instead she came right up and stuck her hand in Lucy's face.

Lucy leaped backwards making a terrible snarling and growling sound. Her fur was all upright from the top of her neck all the way down to her tail. I remained calm, knowing exactly what was going on. She doesn't like strangers sticking their hands in her face and she doesn't like when they skip from seeing if she's interested in sniffing them straight to patting her on top of her head knowing that that's how dogs attack each other, going for the neck.

I also realized she was not being aggressive, simply frightened because she didn't lunge forward but jumped back.

The woman who attempted to pet my dog looked, how to put this, horrified. She had a terrible look of contempt on her face and looked to me as though my dog had tried to attack her. I tried to be polite about it saying, "She's a rescue pup and we're still training her." But what I should have said is, "The first rule of meeting strange dogs is you ask before you touch. You ask me and you also ask the dog. If you don't then shame on you."

Another minor peeve. Please don't say, 'Is your dog friendly?' Because what do I say to that? 

"No my dog is socially awkward and a little bit rude. She may eat your face off and she also never sends thank you notes! She's dreadful." 

Lucy is friendly, but she's scared of you. Instead ask, "Can I pet your dog?" Then I can say, "She's a rescue and we're still working on getting her comfortable. It's better if you see if she wants to come to you."

Bam! That easy.

So Touchy Feely Lady walked into the coffee shop with her look of horror glued to her face. When she came back out I was still waiting for Logan and she said to me, "I'm sure she'll be pleasant some day."

Which made me want to reply, "Too bad we can't train you to be pleasant! Have a lovely day you witch."

I'm reaching the point of frustration with Lucy. I know it's normal and I know I just have to keep working with her, building her confidence, taking a training class and giving her time. But I don't think it would be fair to all of you for me to leave out the less than pleasant parts of raising this dog.

These are the parts of the responsibility that made me wait 12 years to get a dog. And here's the standard disclaimer I use when I talk about how frustrating motherhood is. I love my kids, LOVE them. Can't get enough of them. Want to throw myself in front of a bus for them, kill anyone who would hurt them, kiss them until they call me a freak. I love them. But! The day to day work of raising them to be reasonably functioning members of society, if not really successful and likable adults is frustrating at times.

For me, this is simply a reality, nothing to get upset about. Nothing to berate myself over. I just find it frustrating and I do it anyway. Not every emotion I have is acted on.

I'm frustrated by the process of helping Lucy become the best dog she can be but it certainly doesn't require action. I am feeling it and it will pass and I'll keep trying to find the best thing for her and for us.

Did They Eat It: Crusty Lemon Chicken

Crusty, it's funny how a word can sound so gross in some situations ("He had crusty eyes" and so delicious in others, "Oh it had the best bubbly crust on it."

I made our Monday night meal from that cookbook I mentioned before, Seat of the Pants Suppers. It's something we'd had before but, who knows! Liking it one night does not mean you'll like it the next. I sometimes think my children are tag teaming me, "Okay Max, you liked soup last week, this week you have to hate it and I'll love it. Go Team Make Our Mother COMPLETELY FUCKING NUTS."

Whining Is Winning.

I realize I'm a gigantic baby, but working at Logan's computer was really awful. I'd login to gmail and think, "Why the hell am I getting all these notes about bicycles?" or "Why are my friend's husbands emailing me about that stupid bike ride they're doing?" I was especially concerned when a note came through about my successful registration for an upcoming triathlon.

Let's pause there. Me + Triathlon. 

I should do it just for the comic possibilities. I told you all about the time I tried to do a 150 mile bike ride with Logan. We were still dating and I thought, 'Oh, it will be fun to do this together!'. In a moment of intense frustration during the ride I hurled my bike off the side of a hill into the woods. If I got frustrated while swimming, what would I do? Splash and cry? Probably. Or even better, if I got frustrated during the run I'd have to hurl my body over the side of a hill. 

Hilarity.

Logan's been on deck to get a new bike for quite a while. I'm not totally heartless and want him to be happy. When he compared our family Christmas present sofa to his bike though, flames may have shot out of my eyes. Instead of burning his flesh, I tell him not to sit on it since it's MINE ALL MINE.

I've had my laptop for 7 years. Last year it died and a friend was kind enough to put a new hard drive in it for me. Honestly I was as happy with that solution as if I got a new computer. I don't need much out of my computer, so it's fine to use Logan's computer when I wanted to edit pictures, load music on my phone or watch videos (though watching porn at the desk in the dining room is super awkward).

So Old Reliable kept it together pretty well for another year. I had to buy a new power cord after getting one from a reader ("Hi Laura!") and promptly destroying it after tripping on the cord and taking the whole computer down with me. (MagSafe FTW!)

I suspect when I dropped the computer (for the 23rd time) I likely broke the Image Thingie Maker Thing and the computer was not coming back. 

My goal for this computer is to not drop it. I'm going to try real hard. 

Logan had a freelance check coming in he was going to use for his bike when ***bam*** my computer died and a bike moved down on the totem pole of needs. This is because a bike doesn't earn us a single penny...unless Logan's going to become the next Lance Armstrong. I know it's unfair to say this but I can't stand Lance Armstrong. 

Logan's getting his bike next and I'm going to keep whining on the Internet so we can pay for it. 

Wait....okay I'll try to be marginally entertaining soon.

Lucy Versus Peanut Butter

On Thursday I drove a baggie of poo around in my car for a little while. It wasn't mine, it was Lucy's. Another requirement of the Rescue Group, aside from having my dog's name tattooed on my forehead, was to have a stool sample tested within 7 days of adoption.

Turns out Lucy has Giardia, a pretty common parasite in rescue dogs. I'm actually thankful she has it because perhaps this means that when I take her out to "Go Potty!" I won't pass out from the stench.

I decided to use peanut butter on a spoon to give Lucy her medicine, since I'm not particularly wild about jamming her jaw open and forcing a pill down her throat. I realize this means she'll never get into an ivy league school but that's just the way it goes.

Community college is good for a lot of people too. Our community college has a really nice paralegal program.

The thing about peanut butter and dogs is that it's really very funny.

I know it's important to give dogs their dignity. That's why I'm not putting a pair of Wonder Woman Underoos on her.

Yet.

It's just that it was so funny watching her get all that peanut butter out of her mouth.

I think this should be her driver's license picture.

This is Lucy looking a little troubled about eating all the peanut butter.
But maybe you have more treats?

Did They Eat It: White Bean Chicken Chili

This is one of my favorite recipes, it's one I can count toward my Life List Goal of having a handful of recipes I can make off the top of my head. It's pretty quick to make, I know how long the process takes at this point so I don't mess up and serve dinner at 8.

Her Royal Highness Princess Lucy

We just adopted a dog. I feel like I just adopted the Queen of England.

Every time I had to interact with the people from this rescue group they made me not only feel like a criminal hell bent on collecting dogs for my dog fighting/dog meat supplier ring. They also made me feel like a bumbling moron for doing seemingly innocuous things like buying Science Diet Puppy Food and using a retractable leash.

We made it through the first part of the adoption process (after calling several times to get our home inspection and prove that we were truly serious about welcoming a dog into our lives) and began fostering her for a one week trial just to be sure our cats wouldn't hate the dog so much they started spraying our closets with urine.

After the one week trial we were ready to sign the papers and go forward with our adoption but because Logan was out of town and unable to sign the LEGALLY BINDING (I was reminded of this many times....I think I signed a paper offering up my first born if I do anything stupid like USE A RETRACTABLE LEASH) contract we had to wait another week.

But oh boy that week they found out my indoor cats were behind on their rabies shots and couldn't in good conscience give me a dog knowing about my "neglectful nature". So I took the cats in and had them vaccinated.

When I came by to have our dog's stitches removed one of the adoption managers exclaimed, 'Are you feeding her!?"

Oh I have to FEED the dog!?

In the week before we signed the papers the name we were planning to give our dog was critiqued, "Well that's a nice name but so popular! Oh it's really very popular! It's not very unique." (Her given name was Princess....which is so unique?) and the vet we use was met with a hesitant "hmmm".

when we went for the final signing of the adoption contract I had collected all the health records for the cats to prove I was a fit pet parent and a letter from our landlord declaring that he didn't give a flying fig if we got a dog. And they didn't want any of those papers, but in case I forgot, Lucy is a VERY COMMON NAME.

Then all the papers were signed and I agreed to a lot of things I never thought I would agree to, like if my vet and I decide my dog has inoperable brain cancer I have to contact the agency and have approval to put her out of her misery, but I loved this dog and they could have taken part time custody of my kids and I may have still signed on the dotted line. I think they even baptized Lucy as a Catholic and I was powerless.

When we left they took our picture with Lucy, The Commonly Named Dog, and one of the agency leaders said choking up, "Do you think you'll bring her back to see us when we're at adoption fairs near your home?"

And I wanted to cry.

I forgave everything they did because they loved our pup and honestly she's probably as good a dog as she is because of their strict regulations and the excellent care and socializing her foster parents gave her even though she was abandoned.

So yeah I'll bring her back to see them and I'll send them pictures of her laying in front of the fire on her new dog bed and I'll probably give the dog a kidney if she needs it and take her to mass for Ash Wednesday just like that adoption contract specified.

I thought we were getting a dog because Maddie really wanted one.

It turns out I really needed a dog.