BLOGATHON 2006

Just to let anyone who happens by here today;

I am Blogging for The National MS Society today at my other blog. Come show your support!

I've moved!

OK...I just wanted to let y'all know that I have officially moved over to my new place. Pardon the mess, while I unpack and organize...and maybe in time, I will even get the walls painted:)

Don't forget to change the link in your blogroll, if you want to keep up with me!

Now we know how Spring was conceived...

Mumbo Jumbo

This is one of those times when I have a lot of things going on inside my head...but nothing really to say. I am sure that at least *some* of you understand what I am saying...

I guess a good place for me to start this post would be by welcoming my newest tenant, Divine Calm, to Pockets of Resistance. After doing some snooping around her blog, it was hard for me to get a solid feel for who she is. Her "About Me" section is thorough and ambiguous at the same time. From what I gathered, she is a bit of an artsy fartsy type...she sings, she dances, she enjoys photography. She is also an avid reader. Her blog pulls off the balance between entertainment and personality beautifully...so go check her out.

I have also taken a Big Step in my blogging career. I am now that proud new owner of a Brand New space...here. It is a total clean slate. I am totally clueless. Thankfully, one of my favorite bloggers of all time is willing to help me get things rolling. I will be sure to let you all know when I officially make the move:)

On a total Mommy Note, my eldest kidlet has a piece of her artwork on display at the Rathaus in Kaiserslautern. (I know that "Rathaus" sounds rather unpleasant...but it is kind of like a city hall.) She has been recognized for her academic achievements before, but this is the first time she has been recognized for a creative achievement.

Well, chaos has officially ensued in my Humble Abode, so I am outta here for now.

Happy Birthday to You, You Live in a Zoo...

WARNING...totally personal, mommyfied post to follow. Continue reading at your own risk! heh

It hardly seems like three years have gone by since the birth of my last wee baby. He was the total surprise baby...conceived while I was still nursing his then 8 month old big bro. Conceived just a few months after deciding that Denotsko should get snipped...and then not. Conceived in between field problems...during a time when That Guy I Married was rarely home. Conceived when I thought there wasn't a chance in hell that I even *could*. In short, he was just totally meant to be. I couldn't love him more if we had planned him. He completes Our Little Tribe...and this post is totally dedicated to my Sweet Little Eli.

He was born via c-section on April Fool's Day, 2003 at the Stadt Krankenhaus in Hanau, Germany. His birth was pretty traumatic for me...as I delivered in a German hospital and barely spoke the language.

I checked into the hospital on the evening before his birth. Things immediately got off to a bad start when they brought me my "dinner". (two pieces of stale rye bread and some dried out bologna.) YUK! They only seemed to go downhill from there. I was awakened in the middle of the night by a Horrible Nurse whom I will refer to as Helga. She said nothing as she proceeded to shove an enema tube up my butt. I woke up swinging and cussing. I think she was afraid...and were it not for the fact that I felt the immediate need to use the bathroom, I would have SO kicked her ass! As Blog is my witness, I will never again be enema-ized. EVER.

I pretty much didn't sleep after that. I wanted to be alert in the event that someone felt the need to probe any of my other oraffaces. When I don't get sleep...I get cranky.

At 6am, Helga came into my room and told me to shower. My surgery was scheduled for 8am and I guess she wanted my pits to smell better than hers.

About an hour later, I was wheeled down the hall and taken down to the Labor and Delivery unit via the cargo elevator. I was left in what I can only assume was a staging area...for dirty linens. I was just parked amongst the bags of soiled sheets and left there for what seemed to be an eternity. Finally, my midwife came to get me and wheeled down the hall to the operating theatre. They were amidst rennovations, so there was plastic hanging down over the institutional tiled walls and the ceiling tiles had been removed and the flourescent light bulbs were not covered. It was creepy. I felt like I was headed off to be slaughtered.

There was a smaller room just before the O.R. where I saw the warming table for Eli and a very Old School birthing table underneath the orange glow of a heat lamp. I was made to scoot onto the birthing table, and to place my feet into the stirrups. To this day, I can not understand the reason for this. My legs were firmly strapped together, and to the table for my three prior c-sections...so this made me feel uneasy.

They wheeled me into the O.R. with my legs up in stirrups and my bare ass shining. I have never felt so vulnerable. It took the tech several tries to start my IV...and when he finally did, he totally stabbed the needle into my arm. I was already sobbing uncontrollably, totally out of fear. The doctor kept asking me if I spoke German before mocking me to his colleagues. My midwife was my saving grace. She helped me into a sitting position and supported me as they administered my spinal anaesthesia. Once I was numb from my chest to my toes, they let That Guy I Married sit by my side. I think it scared him to see me falling apart. I am usually very strong...but DAMN! That whole experience was SCARY!

It didn't take long for them to make all of the incisions necessary to extracate my son from my womb. Hearing his first cries made everything better. It made me forget that I felt like a slab of meat. It made me forget that I felt scared and vulnerable and alone. It made me feel elated.

I sent Denotsko out with the baby and gave him explicit instructions NOT to let him out of his sight while they finished my surgery. I was wheeled into the recovery room where my Mom, Denotsko and my new son were waiting for me.

This would be the first time I ever got to hold my baby while I was in recovery. In the U.S. they take the c-section babies to the nursery to monitor them, so they don't get to feel that immediate bond with their parents. It was awesome to get to hold him and nurse him right away. It was awesome to see his hair, still sticky and wet and the traces of vernix in all of his little creases. He smelled so sweet and he felt like Home.

It sometimes makes me sad that I will never have a little baby kicking around inside of me...or that I will never get to spend a lazy Saturday in bed, snuggled up with a Little Nursling...but it is so exciting to see him grow up into such a fun little individual. Of our four kiddos, he is the most like That Guy I Married...and for that, he holds an extra special little place in my heart.

Happy Birthday to You, My Littlest Man!

Friday Feast

Appetizer
Name 3 things that you think are strange.

This is a really tough one for me. I think that each of our perceptions of strangeness are different. I could answer with what I think *you* might think of as strange, but since my strangeometer is set pretty high, I don't really think that too many things actually are strange.

Soup
What was the last ceremony you attended?

I guess it would have been my youngest kidlet's Baptism. Or was it a Christening?

Salad
What is one lesson you have learned in the past year?

That I have absolutely NO control whatsoever over anything.

Main Course
Tell us about one of your childhood memories.

Geez...there are so many! I guess I will start with my earliest memory. I was an Army Brat. When I was 2-ish, my Dad got stationed at Ft. Gordon in Augusta, Georgia. We were in the process of moving into our new apartment. My Mom was hanging pictures while I amused myself with packing materials and string. We had these wall mounted, electric heaters. The control panel was located on the top of the unit and I recall that the area surrounding the buttons was made of a felt-like material. My Mom had placed a handful of nails on top of the heater so as to make them more accesible. I picked up a nail and poked it right into the felt. There was a flash. And a POP. And smoke. My knuckles were blackened and the next thing I remember was being dragged down the hallway, my bare feet sliding across the parquet floor, to the bathroom. I was doused with cold water. I don't remember that it made me feel any better, but it seemed to make my Mom feel better.

I think that that apartment was cursed. I also remember almost falling out of my third story bedroom window. I think I will save that story for another day:)

Dessert
If you could extend any of the four seasons to be twice as long as normal, which season would you want to lengthen?

Autumn. I love the way the air seems so crisp and clean in the Fall. And I love the colors of the changing leaves. And the smell of woodsmoke in the air...

Across the Pond

OK...I would like for you, my faithful reader, to pay a visit to my newest tenant. His name is Brian and he is a soldier currently deployed to The Desert.

For reasons that should be obvious, I hold a special place in my heart for Our Armed Forces. I think that whether or not you support the President or the War in Iraq, our troops deserve our support.

His blog gives fantastic insight into what our guys and girls go through over there...and he deserves the interweb's support. He is going through a little rough patch right now, so show him some love. If you have never clicked on my Blog Tenant before, do it now. And tell him justdawn sent you:)

Friday Feast

I don't usually participate in these meme things...but what the heck. I haven't got anything else going on right now, so I might as well give it a go.

I found this site via this site and since I am extremely hungry right now, I thought it sounded good.

Appetizer:
How would you describe your personal comfort zone?
Being a totaly neurotic person with OCD tendencies, I am only truly comfortable in a clean and controlled environment. (I know, that totally goes against the whole livin' On The Road thing, but drugs helped me to cope;)

Soup:
What is your favorite tree?
Weeping Willow.

Salad:
List 3 foods you'd like to include in your dinner plans for tonight.
Chicken. Broccoli. Rice.

Main CourseWhat is the best advice you've ever been given, but didn't heed?
I am not sure about anything specific...but it likely had to do with my total inability to manage my finances.

Dessert:
On a scale of 1-10 (10 being highest), how much attention do you feel comfortable receiving from others?
As much as I would like to say I LOVE getting attention from other people, I really don't. I am more comfy getting attention on the interweb than in real life...and since IRL is what really counts, I will have to go with 2. I know...I am almost inhuman.

OK...not so sure if I am supposed to tag some people or not...but since this is MY blog and I can do whatever I want to here, I am gonna go ahead and do it.

I am curious to hear the answers of Jess (because she is really good at communicating her thoughts and feelings via her very own piece of the web:), Zube Girl (because I am totally fascinated with her...not in a creepy, stalker kinda way, but in a DAMN, I admire her for overcoming so much shit kinda way), and Rocky Jay (for no real reason, whatsoever:)

My Schleudern is MUCH too Schnell!

What in the world am I talking about? Pull up a chair and lemee splain.

I will start with a little background information for those of you who know nothing (about me). We are a military family. For the U.S. of A. We are currently stationed in Germany. We live in a German house in a quaint little German village in the Palatinate Forest.

We were issued a washer and dryer by our friendly neighborhood Furniture Management Office upon moving in. It was an American Model. It caused us to be raped by the water department. We are currently 700 Euro in arrears to said water department. Americans really are wasteful. I am finding it difficult to wrap my head around the idea that it was our WASHING MACHINE that caused our water consumption to be so high. Fucking American Appliances.

Sorry, back to my story. We decided that it would be prudent to trade our American Set for a German Set. And WOW. The washing machine is every domestic diva's wet dream. The front loading machine has a tilted drum, to facilitate easier loading. A whopping 9 kg capacity. Computerized controls. In a foreign tongue. And get this...the schleudern, aka spin cycle can be adjusted up to 1200 RPM'S! Holy Shattered Pelvis, Batman!

But I am thinking that 1200 RPM's might just be a little bit *too* fast. I gleefully loaded the machine yesterday evening, for the first time. I called my German Friend to help me navigate the controls. I pushed the GO button. Everything was fine until the end. It was like something out of a cheesey horror flick. The machine bounded across my basement floor. Ripping the drain hose from it's drain pipe. This. Is. A. BAD. Thing.

Water spews forth from said hose, drenching everything within it's trajectory. The washing machine was several feet from where it was when I left it. It tossed the dryer about as though it were a child's plaything. There is a dent in the side of the refrigerator that sits beside it. I am afraid. VERY afraid. I threw myself on top of it, in hopes of keeping it on the floor. No such luck. I have never actually ridden a mechanical bull, but I bet it feels something like riding a Wayward Washer on a 1200 RPM spin cycle. Not fun.

Feeling defeated, we pulled the plug. We cleaned up the water. We tried it again. And again. And then we gave up.

This morning, I discovered the trick to a Successful Spin Cycle. A REALLY full load. And adjusting the spin speed down to 400 RPM's. I feel like a Grandma driving a Porsche. BAH!

A Bonsai Kitten Doesn't Sound Like Such a Bad Idea...

Yeah, so we're two days into our 6 week gig with our feral feline friend, whom our thrid born child calls "Surgery". (The owner of said cat told him her name was Trinity...he must have grossly misunderstood...) Liking the name "Surgery" better than "Trinity"...this is what we will call her.

I have a question for those of you who *like* sharing your homes with cats. I can NOT keep her stinky-poo FEET off my counters, table, microwave, toaster, STOVE. Aside from the whole squirt gun trick, which I refuse to do for FOUR reasons. Rowan, Abby, Ethan and Elijah would find it to be TOO much fun to play with squirt toys in the house. It would be total chaos. Mutiny would ensue and the kids would totally soak everything in my house. So, back to my original question. What else can I do?

Contrary to what all of you Cat Lovers are thinking right now...I am NOT going to harm the cat. Even *I* am not that mean. I just want to train her. But how do you train a creature of Very Little Brain?

But seriously, isn't the notion that people actualy bottle wee kitties and feed them through tubes and such make you giggle??? I think the whole Legend of the Bonsai Kitten thing is my favorite interweb hoax to date. If only it were real...it would solve so many of my issues with this cat...

Domestic Disturbance of the Feral Kind

Let me just start off by saying...I hate cats. OK...so that might be a little bit harsh. I strongly dislike most cats...especially when they are in my house. They have nasty habits, like scratching in their own waste and then jumping up on the counter tops or the dining table. They stick their asses into our faces as some sort of misguided gesture of affection. They scratch rugs and furniture. They leave trails of kitty litter all around the house.

My list of reasons goes on and on. I am a Dog Person. I know that the Cat People think that they are somehow superior to Dog People, both emotionally and intellectually. I beg to differ, but that is a topic for another day.

As you all know, we just adopted a dog. It has not been quite a week yet...and while she is a FANTASTIC dog...I am still going through an adjustment period. I haven't had to share my living quarters with a critter in a number of years and she has a LOT of hair. I mean a LOT. And she tries to herd me. And she licks me. A LOT. Which I don't mind. Unless it's my face. Which it often is. And our tiny back yard is a minefield. And the bombs are stinky. But I love this dog and have NO regrets. I just need time to get used to her. You get what I'm saying, right???

So, there is this guy who works with That Guy I Married. His story is a long and sorted one, and one I will refrain from telling as I have a lot of harsh feelings for his psychotic wife...but long story short, she decided to go back to the states just a few months into their three year tour here. He is now a geographical bachelor and is not entitled to family housing. Single soldiers who are lower enlisted get to live in the barracks. She left him with a cat. They don't allow cats in the barracks. SO...this OTHER guy who works with him took the cat for him. I think he and his wife have a combined IQ of about 42. Anyway, from what I understand, they locked the cat in a room and barely cared for it. This makes cats a little loopy. That Guy I Married felt sorry for said feline and her owner. She is now at MY house.

After we extracated the cat from it's kennel and bathed it (it had urinated on itself...reason #42 as to why I already didn't like this critter...) it proceeded to hiss. And Growl. And she drove our poor dog BATSHIT CRAZY. And ultimately, our dog is afraid. I am almost embarassed for her. She could swallow that cat in one gulp. But she jumps back everytime the cat meets her gaze.

I am just saying that four kids, a new dog and a psychotic cat makes me a nervous wreck. I don't possess enough prescription medication to make this OK.

And did I mention that I REALLY don't like cats???