Imagination

GadgetGirl just held up her sippy cup* and exclaimed, “Ha ha.  Car wash!”

 I thought it was a little weird, but when I looked up I saw what she was talking about, my heart soared knowing that the observation my daughter just made was nothing short of brilliant.

   * Yes she can handle the cup without a lid, but she likes to use the little disposable ones…that I reuse and don’t dispose of.

Sick of it

How do I feel about healthcare these days?  Well, we have an HMO that we spend about $600 out of pocket for each month.  Since we moved, I neglected to find a new health care provider for my family because I had a hard time picking out a great caregiver BY THE SOUND OF THEIR NAME.

I didn’t mind paying the extra because I hoped to get pregnant last year, and the thought of paying $15 to have a baby sounded so awesome.  Nevermind the fact that we spent more in premiums than we would have by just paying lower PPO premiums and 20% of the hospital bill.  But I didn’t get pregnant, and I’m not pregnant (just took a test tonight if you’re wondering).  So we pay out the bunghole for medical care that we rarely use.

Last week I got a letter from our provider that Gadget Girl’s internal germ welfare spectacle from last month was not covered because we didn’t get authorization.  Please do not pass Go, and cough up $175 thankyouverymuch.  I took care of that with a quick call to the old pediatrician, and soon remembered that the same thing would probably happen with my own respiratory freakness from a few weeks ago.  It happened seven days after we switched to local caregivers, and the name selection did not work in my favor because there were no appointments available for the day.  So, I went to an urgent care facility and sat on my arse for three hours.  Dahyumn.

Anyhow, I called my new doctor to figure out if I could get authorized for my trip to urgent care.  Nope, not unless I am established.  I asked her if I could make an appointment, and she said she had an opening in late March.  What the freakin’ hell?  Of course, my saving grace was that I could see any of the doctors in the office, so how is Friday at 2?  

GadgetGirl had a bad fever last night, and I was in denial that she had something that ibuprofen, a lot of sleep, and chicken soup couldn’t cure.  She was feeling a little better this morning, which made me happy.  I went to my joke of a doctor’s appointment where he listened to my heart and my lungs and probably charged my insurance company $150 for it.  I ended up talking to my nurse about GadgetGirl because she was getting very cranky and irate at that point, and OHMYGOD is that spinal fluid coming out of her ear?  She then suggested that I do not pass Go and get thee butt to the doctor pronto.  I called her new doctor, and they were very pleasant on the phone and agreed to authorize me to take her to the urgent care clinic because they didn’t have any appointments available for like the next year.  I took her in, and waited for about 30 minutes when a nurse came over to us specifically and asked if GadgetGirl was okay.  She said she didn’t look like she felt good and took her hands, which I already knew felt like ice cubes.  The nurse didn’t seem concerned until I told her that she was burning up like the heat from a thousand suns.  She felt her head and asked us to come back and take her temp. 

103 freakin degrees.  I am a shit mother.

We got a room, and they administered some more Tylenol and a cold Coke.  I thought the Coke was weird, but they said it was to cool her down.  I guess I really have weaned myself off of soda.  I don’t let GadgetGirl drink it much either.

This is really dragging out, but one negative flu and one positive strep test later, we have a diagnosis.  Don’t even get me started about the hour I spent in Wal-Mart waiting on her prescription. I just don’t know how any President thinks that they are going to make healthcare better. Maybe they know that it just can’t get much worse.

Just be

As I lay quietly in bed last night, I felt a hand snake its way from the back of my neck to its final resting place on the side of my neck directly over the jugular.  It was warm and chubby and calming.  I was getting cuddled by a three-year-old. 

I listened to the quiet raspiness of her breathing as she tried to drift off to sleep.  In and out, in and out; like the roll of the ocean waves on a sunny spring day.  I wasn’t tired, which is the unfortunate predicament I find myself in these last few evenings.  Every night my brain runs a race it cannot quite finish until I somehow find sleep hours later.

As I lay there in that moment, a calmness washed over me.  A singular thought invaded the chalkboard in my mind, and I could see it just as clearly as I felt it.  You can have your Paris, your Rome, and your Italy.  At that moment, there was no other place I wanted to be more than right there in that moment.

Why meth labs owners shouldn’t breed puppies

I was browsing Petfinder.com again yesterday, and I found some of the funniest looking dogs I have seen.   Surely, the owners had no clue that the whole in the fence would result in such a odd looking pup.  Maybe if they had tended to their fence mending duties instead of their meth making duties, this wouldn’t have happened.

 

This is a cross between a Pekingese and a dachshund. His little face made laugh!  Unfortunately, dogs who look like this have a long time a’comin before adoption. 

 

originally uploaded by Undercover Mutha.

 

This sad little guy is a Yorkie and dachshund cross.  I have never seen such a furry dachshund or such a sad little Yorkie.  These are breeding combinations that I don’t think God intended to happen.

originally uploaded by Undercover Mutha.

 

 originally uploaded by Undercover Mutha.

 

Sadly, this two-headed little Chihuahua pooch was on the wrong end of a meth batch gone bad.

 

originally uploaded by Undercover Mutha.

 

 In truth, as funny looking as these little ones are, their predicament is not funny.  There are hundreds, if not thousands of homeless pets across the county in your local shelters looking for homes instead of the gas chamber.  Please consider adopting a pet from the kill shelters or petfinder.com instead of heading to the local puppy mill.  And please spay and neuter your pets if you haven’t already.

thehouse

thehouse, originally uploaded by Undercover Mutha.

Welcome to my home. Come in and sit awhile. Hope you remembered your umbrella!

Radio advertising gone wrong

I just dropped off GadgetGirl for my first five hours of uninterrupted bliss this week.  On the way home, an interesting radio commercial came on.  It claimed to be a sort of women’s Vi*agra combined with a cellulite and tummy fat burner in a bottle.  At first I though, “Marketing genius!”  What woman wouldn’t want that combination?  About a mile down the road, I was still thinking about it when something occurred to me.  I put my cell phone down and hung up on the operator just as she was asking for my credit card.  So, what if I take this pill and I’m so hot that my slightly balding pudgy hubby isn’t enough for me anymore?  Does it come with a bottle of Rogaine combined with a spare tire blocker for him?  This product is not fair to married couples if you don’t level the playing field.  So, after thinking about it for another mile or so down the road, I think I like my hubby just the way he is, and he likes me thankyoubutnothankyouverymuch.

Living with smallness

The other day SpyDad was complaining that two of the bedrooms in the house we’re building look rather small.  The other bedroom is the master bedroom which is a few square feet bigger than our last bedroom.  They do look kind of small, but I’m still dreaming of the day where I have a house free of clutter and crap.  Smallness is my little brain’s way of thinking it will actually work.  But you know, I’m sitting here in the camper and looking around.  The entry, couch, kitchen, and dining area make up a space just about as big as one of those rooms.  If camper designers can make all of that fit into a tiny room, maybe I should mention the similarity to SpyDad.  You know, for comparison’s sake.  Hello!  We live in that room.  We have been for six months and probably will be for another six.  Shaddup.

About an hour ago, I decided to take a shower in our teeny, tiny bathroom that is about the size of 4 toilets crammed together.  You step in and are instantly facing the toilet, and the bathtub (tub being the operative word) is on the right.  I turned the water on in the shower, and GadgetGirl stepped in behind me.  She was quite upset because she wanted to take a bath first.  Apparently, when the bathtub is just your size, i.e. 30 pounds, it makes it rather fun.  Well, I wasn’t about to get dressed again, so I told her she’d have to wait.  As I rose one foot to get into the shower, GadgetGirl said, “Mommy, I need to pee pee.”   “Okay, honey.” I said.  ”But mommy, your butt is in the way.”Sigh.  At least some parts of my life are small.     

Notes from this week’s Bible study

Genesis 25:3 : Jokshan was the father of Sheba and Dedan; the descendants of Dedan were the Asshurites, the Letushites and the Leummites.

As I was reading the passage from the Bible this week, a few thoughts popped into my head.

1)  And you thought that your first name/last name/clan name was bad.

2) The Asshurites sound like a really fun bunch.

3) Actually, I think I may know a few direct descendants, and they work for the credit card companies.  

4) Beware of suspicious thunderstorms when poking fun at passages from the Bible.

Waste

We just spent the past hour doing ear candling treatments only to find out it was a hoax. Why didn’t I Google it before I spent $10 and wasted 60 minutes of my life?  Damn it.  Damn it to hell!  

I think I’m just pissed because the trailer smells like someone lit a turd and let it burn all day.  Well, me and my stinky burnt turd are going to bed now.  G’night.