Suburban Bliss:: Birth Control Via The Written Word

Updates.

There is a problem with my phone, no not the phone I keep under my bed for 'solo conversations', the regular phone. This is only a minor inconvenience because I hate the phone and avoid using it at all costs and I have a cellphone.

However, someone was trying to get in touch with me today about a job I really want. Badly. And I couldn't get her call since my phone isn't working and because of Lice Fest 2004 I haven't had the time or energy to call the phone company to come out and figure out the issue. Plus I don't want to give the phone guy a raging case of head lice.

Thankfully I have an inside person, my sister, at this company and pray with me that I'll get a call on my cell phone tomorrow. Please. And please don't let it come through while we're at Buca celebrating the upcoming holiday with friends. Because, part of the lice treatment plan is soaking my liver in lots and lots of liquor.

How can this adorable child have lice?

As an update to the Lice Fest issue. I haven't seen a live louse on her head since last Wednesday. I've been pulling nits from her hair 2-3 times a day. I find about 5 or so at each sitting. The number seems to be going down. Do I just keep focusing on getting the nits and then do the second (homeopathic) Lice Freee! treatment at the 7 day mark as the package recommends? I'll just change her sheets every day, wash her coat everyday and give her a fresh pillow each night?

I don't know though, look again. I mean maybe I'm missing something?

On Friday I got my favorite holiday card ever from a friend who is trying very hard to make me move to Atlanta. Given my feelings about Thomas Kinkade, I was surprised by my love for this card.

But, look. The inside is 3D for the love of God.

Be honest, you're wondering what those people in their front yard are yelling to the people in the carriage. Maybe they're thinking about how cold it is. I wonder if they'll have some hot chocolate when they get inside. That's the thing about a Kinkade image, they really make you think.

The best ornament on my christmas tree is the 'Melissa Ornament' my parents bought for me when I was quite young. They bought it because I was a blonde and I often had that look on my face. Odd how it still fits. I'm sure the MOMS Club would agree. Heartily. Also let's note how my parents totally believe in stereotyping their children. I am, in my family and therefore in life, The Bitchy One. Ah well if the ornament fits....

The Post Where I Only Link To MOMS Club® Once.

We're going out tonight to The Bosco. (I hope they don't get angry with me for sending traffic to their site! AHHHHHHH!

I think The Bosco is Metrosexual Headquarters because Logan has been there several times and I've yet to go there. But I'm going tonight and I'm putting on my dancing shoes on, you know, the ones I wore to party like it was 1999. Literally.

I'm going to talk and drink and dance and I'm going to try really hard not to give my friends impromptu lice checks. Because it's way too dark to do that at a bar. Given the right lighting though, I think I might do it.

I've been picking nits from Madison's hair for so many days straight now I'm starting to dream about them. It's like a video game trying to find the tiny nits on her hairs. A really shitty video game that's no fun at all, but still. As I fall asleep at night I think about all the places the fuckers are hiding. I think about my laundry plan of action for the morning. I plan my treatment strategy as I have tiny anxiety attacks late into the night.

"Okay, tomorrow morning I'll go through her hair first thing. Then depending on the results, I'll try [fill in latest treatment item on list...don't worry no agent orange]. Then I'll wash her hair with the new tea tree oil shampoo. Then I'll blow it dry. Then I'll use that new curling iron I bought to fry thos little fuckers."

Someone in the comments suggested I might be totally repulsed by the sight of fried lice on a curling iron. When I read that I had no sense of disgust at that thought. I'm so beyond repulsion. I'm angry at the bugs and I would enjoy watching them be fried to death by a curling iron. In fact, I think that kind of death is too good for them. I'd like to see them attend a playgroup where someone goes on and on about breastfeeding and how great it is and how could you not do it....and it never ends because that's the kind of endless torture I would only wish upon my worst enemy and the lice are my worst enemy.

During the day as Madison plays around the house I find myself hallucinating the bugs. The bugs are waving. I hear them laughing. As she shakes her head or gets a lethal tendril near Max's bug free head I feel a sense of urgency and I want to scream, "For God's SAKE! Don't let your hair touch anything!!!!!"

It takes all my strength not to put a big cone around her neck.

I escaped the house today for the coffee shop, but still all I can think about is each of those little hairs on her head and the tiny nits on her follicles. And how I must get them off now. I'm about to head home and when I get there Madison will be very sad to see me because we're on a serious 1.5-2 hour nit check 3 times a day. That's a lot of hours she has to sit still and she's been so patient about it. Santa should bring her that trip to DisneyWorld (Nope, no permission!) but instead he's bringing her a cd player for her room. And a sleigh full of olive oil.

Madison is so eager to be through this yesterday she asked me why all her stuffed animals were bagged up in the garage and why her rug was hanging outside on the porch railing and I said, "The bugs don't like the cold so we're leaving all that stuff outside until the bugs die."

And she said, "Maybe I should stay outside until all the bugs are gone."

I love every louse infested hair on her sweet little head.

And, I'm sure she'll have a lovely Christmas in that tent out in the yard.

Hold your arms up....for scale!

Maddie has been under the impression she has headlights (head lice) in her hair.

How I wish she only had a few bright halogen bulbs sticking out of her hair. Because halogen bulbs aren't disgusting and they don't lay eggs and if the halogen bulbs won't leave her head alone, I could just create a really interesting track lighting system in my kitchen.

But instead she has the most vile and disgusting and stealth little fuckers in her hair.

Tonight I found myself SCREAMING at her head, GET THE FUCK OUT!!!!!!! But they won't listen. Apparently they don't respond to verbal threats OR chemical apocolypse.

Let me give you the run down of my last few days. Tuesday night I noticed Madison was still scratching her head and being the stupid retarded asshole of a mother I am, I thought to myself, 'Hey, Asshole. You might want to take this child with the itchy scalp to the doctor."

At that point I was thinking it was seborrhea (which as it turns out is a fancy name for dandruff. Who knew?). I thought the doctor might tell us to up the T-Gel and that would be that. But as I pondered calling the doctor I started fondling my lovely, clean, beautiful daughter's hair.

Huge mistake. If only I would have started the fondling her hair the following morning I may have gotten one nice normal night of sleep before my nightmare began.

As I fondled her sweet smelling (and oh so very clean) hair, I SAW SOMETHING MOVE!

And since I'm such a great mother I remained calm, depending on how you define calm.

I define 'remaining calm' as not screaming "JESUS CHRIST THIS CHILD SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN LET INTO THIS COUNTRY!!!!! SEND HER BACK TO IRELAND!!!!!!!"

According to Logan remaining calm doesn't involve saying anything like, "OH MY GOD!!!! SOMETHING JUST MOVED ON HER HEAD!!!!! GET ME A COMB!!!!!!!!"

Saying this didn't keep Madison calm either. She started crying and I started back tracking.

"Well Madison, I thought it was a bug but it was an ALL EXPENSE PAID TRIP TO DISNEY WORLD ON YOUR HEAD!!!!!"

Please tell me there is a Santa.

So, Tuesday night, when I unfortunately uncovered the Headlights on Madison's scalp, we started this hellacious journey. Except this is when the really great part starts! That big fat freelance check (which Logan earned by the way...did you think I'd get off my fat ass and make money? God!) had a hold put on it since it wasn't a payroll check and since that was being held there wasn't any cash in our checking account.

You're thinking, 'Just float a check until the funds clear.'

Ah, but you aren't a Stupid Fucking Summers like we are. We used our last check on Tuesday afternoon! Weeeeeeeeeee!

So off I went to borrow money from my mother. I'll tell you, you haven't lived until you've borrowed money from your mother to pay for the LICE TREATMENT on your child's head. Things are so totally awesome here. But you just wait! Things are getting even more awesome!

Tuesday night we stayed up until 12am vacuuming and changing sheets and vacuuming mattresses and at one point the children were crouching on the bathroom floor crying..."Oh...but we're tired....." (I am not kidding. They said that like some Dickens orphans.)

But I said, "You're not tired! You have lice you foul beasts and I'm going to use this (metal) comb (...as has been repeatedly recommended) until I get all those stupid little monsters off your head!"

Oh, surprise! Max had them too!

After we got everything cleaned up Logan went to bed and I sat by the light of the christmas tree and drank about 1.5 too many vodka gimlets and also used way more than my fair share of our narcotics stash.

The following morning I started my day by picking through my daughter's head looking for bugs to eat because at that point I'd become nothing but a common monkey. Unfortunately my diet was ruined when I found nits on her head and then, though I could have been coming off the acid trip from the night before, I saw another of THOSE FUCKING BUGS CRAWLING ACROSS HER MOTHER FUCKING SCALP!

Then I wished I might die.

But I didn't die. I called the pediatrician and asked what we should do now and she said, "You go to Costco and get yourself a jar of mayonnaise large enough you could dock your jet ski in it. Also, a similarly sized bottle of Makers Mark."

I followed Doctor's orders and bought a vat of mayonnaise, even though Logan hates mayonnaise with a fiery passion mostly reserved for republicans. It was only when I got it home that I realized, 'Wow, this is a lot of mayonnaise.'

This was a big barrel of mayo. Maybe that picture doesn't show you the sheer volume. For comparison, check out the bottle of Bell's Logan brought home for me tonight next to the Vat of Mayo.

Perhaps you still didn't get a feel for the size of the Vat O' Mayo. Here I hold my hands up for scale.

I combed and I slathered mayonnaise on my daughter's hair and then I picked and picked and picked and I swear to God above I got every one of those fuckers out of her hair in the two hours of picking I did.

And Thursday morning I checked again but not all that hard because I KNEW I got all of them the night before and we headed off to school.

I stopped at the office because I'm an honest type of person and I said, "My daughter had lice yesterday and I'm wondering if I need to do anything to get her back to class."

And the secretary wasn't there but the PTA president was and she said, "I'll need to check her hair."

So she did and OH MY FUCKING GOD! More nits!!!!!!!!

The PTA President, who I officially hate now, said to me, like I'm retarded. "Well you need to use a chemical shampoo on her hair."

And I said, "Golly! Really? Uh huh....no kidding? I never heard of one of them thar chemical shampoos. I done thought if I poured just a little vodka and lime juice on those critters, them varments'd go away on thar own. Hooooo Weeeee. You done learn somethin every damn day!"

The PTA President is now a dead rat on my desk with mayonaisse and Rid spread all over her carcass.

The rest is an ongoing saga. I did another chemical bomb on my daughter's hair which is apparently going to send her to the emergency room and quite POSSIBLY KILL HER!!!!!!! As if the formula feeding wasn't enough, I mean don't I love her enough? Now I'm going to Agent Orange her cute little arse. Will I never stop?

I went through her hair 3 times tonight and each time I found at least one nit.

I guarantee tomorrow I will call Mr Bush on my private line and tell him to just bomb my house because there is no other way.

Thankfully, Logan will be busy at a party so he won't have to be killed in the name of the Lice. Maybe he'll at least take Max with him. Maddie and I are going down.

Max and Lice Fest 2004

Max storms into his bedroom in the midst of a Late-In-The-Day-I-Could-Have-Used-A-Nap-But-My-Mother-Wants-Me-Asleep-At-8pm-For-The-Night Tantrum.

I'm sure you know the kind.

He slams the door and screams "I HATE THIS FAMILY!!!!!!!"

Then, a minute later he says, "Mommy.....can you turn my light on?"

I'll be back soon. We're in the midst of Lice Fest 2004....which if you're making plans for your next big family trip, I'd say skip the Lice Fest because this is probably the worst thing I've ever endured in this parenting thing. It's disgusting and maddening and I'm so tired of vacuuming and washing and scrubbing and picking.

Seriously I think I've fallen off the deep end and I have to tell you. Remember how I said Logan's perfect? But I don't talk about the ways he's imperfect?

Time out.

He's absolutely stunned that I"m irritated with him today. You know since I spent all day cleaning every item in this house, after staying up until 1am doing the same thing the night before. Since I've boiled everything twice now and I had to slather my daughter's hair with Mayo yesterday and then scrub it out (not easy) and then I spent 2+ hours going through her hair and getting every god damn speck out of her hair and then this morning, finding more of those fuckers in her hair.

I know he has to work and that's fine. Except today there's an office party and he's so excited to go! I can't help but feel really resentful of the fact that he's going to a party while I sit here picking FUCKING NITS out of my daughter's hair.

But wait it gets better! After the office party, there's another party! So he's staying out all night too!

So that means I have one more day of insanity with no break and I know I said I wouldn't use this website to tear down my loving spouse.

But you know, as much as i understand how hard it is to be the Dad and to have to be the breadwinner, but not just the breadwinner....you have to be a great father and a supportive husband and that's a lot of balls to juggle and I know it's not easy.

But today I wish I was juggling the social balls while my wife was at home picking nits out of my daughter's hair and boiling all the sheets and brushes and combs.

God help me survive this.

**Update: Internet, I love you. Logan called moments after this was posted and he's staying at his first party for an hour and then coming home to help with the evening routine and continued delousing before going to his second party. I still rule. Who's husband gets to go to two parties (plus we're going to another party this weekend! And another a week from today!) but nonetheless the act of Jackassery has been amended to only be slightly agitating.

Also agitating? After the THIRD chemical bomb I set off on my daughter's head. (The second was an all natural Mayo Bomb) I FOUND ANOTHER LIVE LICE ON HER HEAD!!!!!!

What the fuck! These are Lice of the Apocolypse and I am going to die before they ever die. 1.5 hours of nit picking (literally) and her head is clear. I swear to God there are no more nits on her head. Please let this be the end. Please. Please. Please.

Please let my husband bring me a lovely six pack of Sierra Nevada....or maybe a Bell's. Or maybe I'll just drink Rid straight from the bottle.