Monthly Archives: August 2009

Not-so-sweet little lies

What do you do when your child starts lying, and the lies begin to get harmful?  I’ve never had a five year old before, and I’m at an utter loss.

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Kentucky State Fair, 8/09

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I am very, very weird.

Last night I dreamed that I was Princess Leia, and Michael Jackson was Luke Skywalker.

Good News, Bad News, Dog News, Fish News

The bad news is, I started my period, and my poor tummy parts are all freaked out, and there’s a sharp pain where my right ovary used to be.  The good news is, I’m not going to talk about it any more.

In other news, I’m very happy that Ru gets the next three days off (two 13-hour days at work, followed by tw0 to three days off, two days on, etc).  We’re planning on going to the State Fair tomorrow, but we’ll see how The Hole Formerly Known as My Right Ovary feels then.  I know, I talked about it.  It’s me; what did you expect?

Rocky LOVES her school.  Her teachers seem very nice.  She’s learning all sorts of strange things, like table manners and raising her hand to talk.  She’s making friends.  It’s a mixed age class, majority preschoolers, along with 6  Kindergartners.  95% white and I’d wager middle-to-upper class, considering what the tuition is (and my own narrow-minded take on the other parents).  I have my issues with the Montessori curriculum, but definitely prefer it to Public McSchool, so I’m not complaining. The kid loves to learn.  If they’re willing to nurture and grow that instead of standardized-test it into the ground, the Catholic hippies are all right by me.

Did I mention my bellybutton looks like a troll?

Summer is winding to a close here in Lebanucky, not that it ever really felt like Summer.  Apparently it’s not usually so cool and rainy here.  I haven’t minded.  It’s supposed to be armpit-style humid here at high temps.  Yuck.  My body is not ready for Fall, but I am looking forward to warm-clothes shopping, which I’ll have to do soon since I’ve gained exactly 20 pounds since April and have pretty much nothing that I can wedge my big ass into any more.  The days of pleather pants are now behind me.  I don’t know, maybe that’s a good thing.

I’ve been reading like crazy, a couple of really, really good books, published online, by this crazy person I know from Austin.  Skene and Pya are officially recommended reading, having won the National Blox Award, the Pulloxer Prize and the Lambda Hoof Award, and making it into the NewLebanucky Times Book Review.  You can check them out here, at the blog of Maggie Jochild.

Sugarpaw is growing fast, having finally lost her puppy smell and potbelly, replaced with dogfood-breath and sturdy little tough-girl muscles.  She is a hellion.  She shits and pisses all over the house, barks furiously at everything that passes by outside on four legs or two (and at all hours of the night), tears away like a wild cheetah when you’re trying to get something poisonous or sharp or expensive away from her, and oh sweet Jesus, the biting.  She bites, and chews, everything.  Hands. Ankles. Noses. Shoes. Toys. Furniture. Sunny.  Oh, and her favorite – underwear.  She steals them from the laundry basket, scoots away to hide, and chews out the crotch.

Did I mention I wish we’d gotten a gecko?

I’m feeling more and more at home here in L’ville, especially as I get closer to the folks from church.  Now, when you read “church”, my Christer-phobic friends, please read beyond.  The main preacher wears jeans and talks Liberation Theology.  It’s an open pulpit, meaning that anyone can preach (recently a ten year old gave the sermon).  Women and queer leaders are just a given.  The congregation, and they probably wouldn’t even call themselves that, is mostly, I would say, working-to-middle class, folks involved in helping careers – teachers, social workers, chaplains.  More presbyterian seminarians or seminary grads than you can shake a dog-eared bible at.  Very smart, educated, creative, down-to-earth, heart-of-gold people.  I would say our (I said “our”!) major unaccomplished goal as we grow is to become a multicultural church.  Right now, it’s almost all white, and the white people see how white it is, and want to open it up.  What’s funny is that I’ve been somewhat of a resource as they start that journey, having been doing the Good Work for ten years now.  Not that I’ve learned that much; ten years, and I’ve only just learned to shut the hell up from time to time.  I guess sometimes it just takes that long.  In any case, we’ve got a bunch of little starts happening, from teaching ESL to sponsoring refugees to attending conferences on power roles.  I’ll be leading an Eric Law book group in a month or two.  Very exciting stuff.  And a few much-needed friendships blossoming, along the way.  Did I mention that the theology discussion group meets at a bar?

Speaking of white russians, it’s been over a year since my last drink.

Sunny has claimed Sugarpaw’s fluffy pink “Princess” bed.  It suits her better. Paw should be sleeping on coal.

I got a Pocket and Parsley update!  As you may remember, the last we heard of our little talking fish-friends, they were exploring their new home, a community center pond in Round Rock, Texas, and fending off advances from a fat koi named Worf.  Rachel, their new caretaker, writes,

“Pocket and Parsley are getting very big!  They are quite shy and hang out in the plants and under the rock ledges.  When we do see them we are amazed at how big they are (softball sized.)  They like to hang out with a koi that is a little bit larger than them, but was added to the pond a month or two after them.  The koi was also donated by a friend of the garden.  The koi’s name is Biggin’ as he was getting too large for his aquarium.  The Pond Society asked us to be on the pond tour this year to show off the handsome fish and plants. All the kids from summer camp ask when we can look at the fish for nature hour, they would like to look at the fish every time we have class.  Watching the fish is the highlight of the garden to so many of garden’s visitors (children and adults.)  Pocket and Parsley are very popular fishes!”

Obviously, Pocket and Parsley have them all fooled.  They are not shy.  They are hiding out under darkened ledges because they are plotting.  And they have a big, dim-witted koi recruit bringing them extra food, so they can grow larger and larger, too large, eventually, for the community pond, and then the plan is to move into a pond at the white house, and from there, they will take over the world!  Mwa-haaa-haaaaaa!!  What?  Who are you?  Hey look, a kid!

Ventris Dentata

The good news is, Walter was benign.  The bad news is, my once-pretty bellybutton now looks like a toothy little troll.

At yesterday’s post-op appointment, I found out a few things I kinda wish I hadn’t.  For example, how they extracted the goods.  The image of them hauling my “bagged” organs, complete with baseball-sized cyst, out through my bellybutton makes me a little nauseous.  Also, being a dermoid cyst, Walter was filled with some pretty funky shit – scalp and hair, and sebacious glands (pimples, people), complete with pus.  As a matter of fact, and I suggest you put down your cream puff, when they pulled it out of me, it “kind of blew up” and splooged them all over their goggles.

NICE.

“I lost this one to Pinky Pie’s bayonet in the Pony War of ’09…”

Today Rocky and the neighbor girls were playing a game called My Little Ponies War.

In other news, Ry has been very happy in Kindergarten so far.  She doesn’t have much to say about it, but then, we could never extract information from her about her preschool days, either.  We did, however, learn that she has a crush on a boy in class, named Aiden (the name of a boy she had a crush on in Austin), he “comes and goes” from the classroom, he is missing several fingers and has a prosthetic leg.

Lord help us all.

I was very surprised by my attack of tears the other day.  Today, I couldn’t understand why I was in such a shitty mood.  Tonight, for no really good reason, I burst into tears in Ru’s arms.  I was inconsolable.

Holy missing ovary, Batman.  It’s PMS.  PMS like I’ve never felt before.

Lord help me.