I'm gonna let you in on a bit of a non-secret.  I am, what I call, an urban hillbilly.  What that means is that I live in the city.  Whether it be a big or small city, I AM a city dweller.  don't get me wrong, I love the country.  But the country don't love me.  My allergies and sinuses go nuts when I'm out in nature.  Nature trails at the state parks are about as nature as I get.  I don't even go camping.  But put me around the sound of cars speeding down a freeway or a freight train and I am a happy gal.  Give me indoor plumbing!  But...I hate shoes.  You can find me running around barefoot almost any time of year.  And I love my guns.  Although I only own one, it's cause I broke the other one.  And, yeah, I'm a girl, but I cuss and spit and by golly when I got a itch down there I scratch it.  Sometimes I do all 3 of the last things at the same time!  (Cause I'm a multitasking bitch like that.)

And because of this hillbilly blood in my veins, they are called 'skeeters!  Not mosquitoes.  'Skeeters.  And they are out of control!

So I am petitioning you all to help me put a stop to 'skeeters.  These lil buggers (ha! get it?) have been around long enough!  They don't really serve a purpose, other than spreading disease, and I say we can do without them.  Do whatever you have to do.  Spray your yards, swat them out of the air, cover yourself in bug spray and starve the lil fuckers.  You can even light your yards on fire and burn the suckers out.  If you don't particularly like your neighbors yard you can light theirs on fire also and just claim "'Skeeters!"  (I am required to tell you not to actually light your neighbors yard on fire, but I also can't stop you.)

My point being is that we need to rid the planet of these blood-sucking little pests once and for all.  So dry out your flower beds, call your exterminators and buy stock in citronella.  Let's do something about this plague!
Note:  Yep, this whole post was written because I am REALLY allergic to 'skeeter bites and am already itchier than I want to be.  The welts that spring up are really annoying.  Too bad I can't get the bear to eat em all.
Today is Lil Miss's 12th birthday.  Since I have talked about her to you minions (and she reads this blog from time to time) I thought I would put up a birthday wish.

MERRY BIRTHDAY, LIL MISS!!!     (Now stop growing!)
Beautiful, isn't she?!? (Yep, it's rhetorical)
So anyone who has had a kid knows that from time to time they have accidents.  Sometimes it's in the car, sometimes on the way to the potty.  And sometimes it's in the bed.  Especially if they aren't that far out from potty-training.  This is one of those stories.

(Note: Someday Lil Miss is going to read this blog and it will be the reason she hates me.)

So it took forever to potty-train Lil Miss.  We started training her at about 18 months and by the time she was 4, she still wasn't going on the potty.  Not even the cute little kiddy potty.  Nothing.  I tried everything.  I would sit her on the seat and wait for hours.  Nothing.  I would take her in the bathroom when I had to go so she could see what was supposed to happen.  Nothing.  I got her cousin involved (who was 2 months younger and had been going for about a year already).  I helped, she would try, but still, nothing.  

Then one day while we were driving home, we got behind a school bus.  Lil Miss REALLY wanted to go to school (and she was actually enrolled to start in the fall, but she could only go if she was, in fact, potty-trained).  She started going on about how she wanted to ride on the "big-girl" bus to go to school.  Seeing my opportunity, and being frustrated, I told her she couldn't go to school and ride the bus until she started going on the potty.

Two days later she was potty-trained.  

WTF?!?!  That was all I had needed to tell her?  How had I not figured this out sooner?  And had the lil shit just been holding out on me to make my life miserable because she didn't want to wipe her own ass?  Ok, I can't blame her for that last one because, really, who doesn't want someone else to wipe their ass?

Anyway, for the next couple of months we (she) would have regular, middle of the night accidents, but who doesn't.  Eventually these ended too as she grew to wake herself up when the pressure would build.

So about a year after the accidents stopped...she had an accident.  Here's what happened and how it turns out that apparently I pee the bed.

By this time I had separated from her dad (I may have been divorced at the time.  I don't remember) and we were living in a 2 bedroom apartment.  This particular apartment had REALLY drafty windows.  In fact, it was so bad in Lil Miss's room that I had to put a thermometer in her room so on particularly cold nights I would know not to let her sleep in there.  Or crank the heat up so that the rest of the apartment was slightly cooler than a sauna so her room would be just right. 

So one night it got really cold after we went to sleep.  In the middle of the night Lil Miss climbed into bed with me.  She was 5 at the time.  I don't know when she climbed in, but I always knew she was there.  To this day it's like sleeping with a little kicking tornado.  I have actually woken up to find her sleeping ON me.  So when one of her little feet caught me right in my spine I figured out that she was there.  I didn't think anything of it and rolled over and went back to sleep.

Some time later I woke up to a puddle quickly spreading out under me.  How it was that I figured out so quickly that she was peeing the bed still baffles me, but I was up and out of the bed faster than lightning.  Not that I ever took lightning to bed and have a frame of reference on how fast it can get out.

Lil Miss slept through it.  Now too her credit, when she climbed in next to me, she climbed in on the side that has one of those drafty windows.  So not only did she kick the covers off from her constant flip-flopping, but she also had a mid-winter breeze blowing across her.  She got cold.  Peeing, for some reason, is what happens when you get cold.  Because God hates us and linked our bladders to the weather and then gave us winter.  Thanks God, cute joke.

So not wanting to wake her up, I tried like crazy to maneuver Lil Miss so that I could clean up without waking her.  I failed.  While trying to lift her off the bed, to get to the mattress, she woke up.  Which, in hind sight, turned out to be ok because she definitely needed a bath.

Upon waking up and realizing what had happened, Lil Miss, bless her, FREAKED THE FUCK OUT!!!

I mean, you could not console her.  She started crying and apologizing.  Over and over and over and over and over and OVER.  The whole time I'm telling her it's ok.  Just relax.  Calm down.  I'm not mad.  Accidents happen.  Then cam the phrase that got to her.  "They are accidents because you don't mean for them to happen, but they happen to everyone."

Have I mentioned how my daughter is extremely smart?  Even at 5 years old she can hear or see something and pick it apart in order to understand the meaning or logic of it.

Lil Miss:  Accidents happen to everyone?"

Me:  At sometime or another, yes, they happen to everyone.

Lil Miss:  So you have accidents too?

Me:  From time to time.

Lil Miss:  So you pee the bed sometimes too?

Me:  (<---deer in headlights.)

What I meant is that everyone messes up.  That everyone does things they don't mean to do.  Lil Miss was still focused on HER accident, but seeing a way to sooth her and make her feel better I took it.

Me:  Yep, I have peed the bed too.

Lil Miss:  But I peed in YOUR bed.

Me:  So?  Do I look or sound like I'm mad?

Lil Miss:  No.

Me:  Am I yelling?

Lil Miss:  No.

Me:  Then you shouldn't worry about it.  It cleans up.  It's all good.

Lil Miss:  Really?  Everyone?

Me:  Yes.

Lil Miss:  Does Daddy have accidents?

Me: (smiling to myself) Yep.

Lil Miss:  Gramma?

Me:  (controlling laughter)  Yep.

Lil Miss:  Really?

Me:  Yep.  You can even ask them.

This seemed to calm her down and after getting her cleaned up, as well as the mattress and changing the sheets, we got back into bed and went back to sleep.  The rest of the night she slept like a log instead of a mini hurricane, safe in the knowledge that her mother pisses the bed from time to time.  Because that's what moms do.  We allow ourselves to be humiliated in order for our kids to save face.  In order for our kids to feel better about themselves.  We will cop to having "accidents"  if it makes our kids feel better.  And I'm not different.  So now, apparently, I pee the bed.

One of the best parts of this whole ordeal though?  Calling my ex and announcing to him, unceremoniously, without so much as a hello, "If she ever asks, you pee the bed"  and then hanging up.  Yeah, that one had him confused for a few days until I was able to actually explain what happened.  

The moral of the story:  If you have to tarnish yourself in your kids eyes so the feel better, sometimes it's the best way to go.  And if you can bring your ex husband and Mother-in-Law down with you, do it!  Why should you be the only adult who pees in their bed?  ;)
Ok, so I'm sure my regular visitors have noticed how erratic my posts have been.  I have been late or not posting on Saturday for the last couple of weeks.  Sorry about that.  Between trying to arrange for Lil Miss to come for her first visit, talking to Lil Miss every other day, looking for a job, dealing with home issues, screwing up my sleep schedule/dealing with insomnia and TRYING to manage my depression things have been a bit...well...off.  If you will all bare with me a little longer I swear I will get my act together and start posting at my regular time again.  It may take a few weeks though.  

In the mean time...

Last week I was sitting out in the garage having a smoke.  we don't smoke in the house, but that's ok because it was a nice night out.  Since I live with boys who love their air conditioning and I'm always cold, I spend a lot of time out in the garage.  But our garage isn't just a garage and that's where you go to smoke.  No one parks in the garage.  We have a extra fridge out there, as well as a dining table with chairs, a T.V. with cable and my blue lazy-boy.  Needless to say it's an extra room that doesn't have air conditioning so this is where I spend a majority of my time.

So I'm out in the garage, reading The Hunger Games, having a smoke and I hear a loud CRASH from across the street.  Fuck.  I know that sound.  I hear it all summer long.  The damn bear is back.

Sure enough, I get up, look out the door and there is the bear, going through the neighbors garbage.  I have to admit that as I stood there I couldn't help but think, "Why the hell do the stupid neighbors keep their garbage can right next to where the bear comes out of the forest?"  I never have figured this out.  To me this seems like an invitation to the bear.  Like you're just asking for it to come and go through your garbage.

Anyway, seeing that there is nothing I can do about this, even if I wanted to, I go back in the garage and back to my book.  So I'm sitting in my Lazy-boy, reading and I see movement out of the corner of my eye and hear a sort of snuffling sound.  When I looked up, I fucking F-R-O-Z-E!  

The bear, I guess, decided to come say hello to me because what caused me to freeze (and made my heart jump into my throat) was the sight of the bear sticking his head into the garage door and sniffing.  WTF!!!  The bear is a ninja!  He didn't make one sound walking up to the door.  I am not cut out for this.  I got too much city in my blood.

In the split second it took for all this to happen it occurred to me that if the bear came into the garage any more, I am cornered.  Thankfully he just wanted to say hello and when he discovered that there wasn't really anything of interest in the room, he backed out to go find someone else's garbage.  I'm taking this as a good sign that bears find me unappetizing.  Shut up, just let me have this.  It will make me feel better.

After leaving the doorway I jumped up and ran in the house and went room to room as the bear made his way all the way around the house.  It really reminded me of a security guard just making the rounds.  So even though he scared the crap out of me, I also feel a bit better about having our security system out of hibernation.  Welcome back, Henry!  (Please don't eat me.)

(Yes, I decided his name is McButterfur.  I figure if he's that permanent a part of the neighborhood where he can come say hello and make the neighbors shit their pants, then he deserves a name.)
Ok, so this week I purposely waited to post until Sunday.  Cause...it's Easter ya'll!!!  I just didn't see the sense in posting yesterday AND today if I didn't have to.  (And I didn't realize last week that this week was Easter so when I said I would post on Saturday I wasn't really lying so much as not paying attention.)

Anyway, this Easter I am doing...nothing.  Probably just chilling out on Facebook and Twitter.

OH! but here's something for you all.  What's better than a Cadbury Creme Egg for Easter?
Bock, bock, bock, bock, BOCK!
A FUCKIN 5 PACK OF CREME EGGS!!!!  So, yes, you can be rest assured that I will be sitting at my computer stuffing my face with these treats that I have come to love.  (Apparently my first try of one didn't go so well and resulted in my wiping it across the booth at Vern Hayne's, a local restaurant in Center Line, MI.  I was REALLY young, I didn't know any better.)

Oh, yeah, WTF is fondant?!?  Like, I know what it is.  It's the "creme" in the creme eggs.  But WHAT is it?!?!  I'm pretty sure it's just a big bowl of whipped sugar, with some yellow food coloring.  (Gotta make it look like a yolk.)  Well, whatever it is, it is a dose of belly hurting heaven.

Anyway, hope you all have a Merry Easter and if you get too board feel free to hit me up on Facebook or Twitter.  (If I don't respond I may have food poisoning from my eggs.  Hey!  If they don't really come from a bunny, and they aren't really eggs, than I can make up salmonella from eating them!)
The rain got the better of me yesterday, so I didn't get a chance to post.

Plus I was super depressed this week, so I didn't write anything during the week.  For some reason, I can't write when I get like that.  I don't know why. 

Anyway, I thought, since I'm still dealing with some back pain AND depression still has its claws in my brain and heart and I'm leaking emotional sewage, I would share some of my photography with you.  No, I am not a photographer.  I just do it for fun.  And I'm quite proud of some of the pics I've taken.

If you are a friend from Facebook (My personal page, not my fan Page) you may have already seen these.  A few times.  Sorry about that.  For those of you who haven't seen them let me explain a little about them.

All these pics (Except for one) are unaltered.  Any color changes have been made by my camera, not my computer.  Anything else that seems like an effect is nothing more than a trick of the light or an angle.  I have contorted myself and gotten into some very embarrassing positions to get some of these pics.  Don't even ask. Lol.    (The only edited pic is the one of the purple flowers with black and white background.  D.J. was playing with photoshop.)

Click the images to see them larger.  Feel free to use any of the flower/animal pics for yourself.  I only ask that you not copy or use, in any way, any of the pics of Lil Miss.  I will sue.  And if you don't think I can track you down, you are mistaken.  I'm a mean momma bear with LOTS of friends in ALL feilds.  Plus, I'll sic the Hamster of Doom on you!

Just to let you know, not all of them are serious photos.  Some were just silly and I happened to be there and had a camera.  I added them in for you to enjoy.  You're welcome.

One last note.  As I have said on my Facebook and anywhere else, if you know the names of any of the unnamed flowers or plants feel free to let me know in the comments section or drop me an email.   I took the pics, I'm too lazy to look up the names too.