Beat those big bad bugs with the bug spray.

Yesterday I found one single bedbug hiding in a towel in the bathroom.  The scenerio went something like this:

Me getting out of the shower and grabbing the towel I had set on the counter to use.  Bedbug climbs out of the towel.  I throw the towel across the room and yell "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!"

I mean, we paid an exterminator over $1,000 to get rid of the fuckers in early July and one lives.  Oh, it doesn't live anymore.  That motherfucker is dead. But still, if there's one... (I threw the towel it was hiding in in the garbage).  To top things off, we have a bee hive in our soffit near the kitchen window.  We were just going to let it stay there (I discovered it during my two week mono house arrest) but Kevin left the kitchen light on overnight and the bees, somehow, got into the house.  In the kitchen.  Where I refused to set foot while a swarm of bees lay waiting for me.  So I call Kevin and tell him about the bedbug.

Kevin: Are you sure it's a bedbug.
Me: I know more about bedbugs than I ever wanted to.  It's a bedbug.
Kevin: Well great. Did you call the exterminator?
Me: No, I'm going to call him as soon as I get off the phone with you.  But, you need to come home.  I need you to kill the bees.  I think they're planning something.  Something evil.  Something sinister.  They saw the honey in the cupboard and they know.
Kevin: Yeah, I'll be there when I can.

I call the exterminator and tell him he's a fucking useless piece of shit and there's a bedbug alive in my house.  OK, no I didn't call him that because no exterminator will guarantee anything when it comes to bedbug.  I guess that makes them all useless pieces of shit but I hope they don't read this because I need one of them to come back and take care of the bee hive and possibly spray the house again.

So Kevin gets home and there is carnage everywhere.  Not a bee in the house is safe.  THERE WAS A FIREFIGHT! I am happy to report that there are now no bees in this house.

But there's still the possibility that there's bedbugs and that just pisses me off.  So I did what any good parent would do.  I took it out on the kids.  They came home from school.

Me: That basement is a fucking pig sty.  I want it clean.  You don't know how many bedbugs could be hiding in there.  No computer time until that place is clean.
Kids: Sure mom!  Anything for you! What the fuck mom!  You fucking bitch!  You make us do all the work in the house and you just sit on your ass and eat bonbons all day.
Me: I am hanging on a thread of my sanity.  Clean the fucking basement or I will go ape shit on you.

So the basement is on the way to being clean, my house may have bedbugs again and when life gives you lemons, make margaritas because then you'll at least be able to get drunk.

BONUS PICTURE

Freedom awaits them out there.  But if I let them go, who would clean the bathroom?

If being a stay at home mom is the best job in the world, why are you so happy when school starts again?

If it weren't for the fact that my kids would be eternally stupid because I can't teach, I would homeschool them so I wouldn't have to get up in the morning.  School really cramps our style.  But they're back to it.  Well, Kid1, Kid2 and Kid3 are.  Kid4 doesn't start for another couple of weeks because.... I don't know really.  I guess the kindergarten teachers need more time to prepare or something?  I know I would if I had a class full of 4 to 6 year old kids.  Hell, I would need more time to prepare and an advance in my salary to cover to cost of the valium I would need.

BONUS WEATHER UPDATE
Mother nature sure is nice to my kids.  The day before school started the weather turned cold so they wouldn't have to sit in a class while it was all nice and sunny and reminding them of how just a week ago they were outside playing (or inside driving me nuts).  If I were mother nature, I would have made it the nicest day of the whole summer they first day of school.  That way, those of us who don't work could sit outside and sip a martini and gloat when our kids came home from school.  As it is, I played video games all day and gloated about that.

Two weeks of house arrest can do strange things to a person.

I hadn't left the house in two weeks before today.  Two weeks of looking at the mess that needs to be cleaned and yet not being able to clean it because I'm too mono-y to do anything other than sleep.

Today, I went to Zeller's (think Target only for Canadians) and bought a pair of new shoes for Kid3 and Kid4 (I mean I bought them each a pair of shoes.  I don't make my kids share shoes.  I mean, I tried, but the school got annoyed that they had to hop everywhere.  Motherfuckers.), medicine for Kid2 (she has some fucked up kidneys) and nothing for Kid1 (because I don't love her as much as the others).  I also bought a vacuum because it was on sale and mine doesn't suck.  Well, it DOES suck, but not in the way that you want a vacuum to suck.  What I'm trying to say is that it's a 15 year old piece of shit.

The thing I miss doing the most since having this mono thing is going on my 20-30K hikes with Wonder Woman (who you met in a previous post).  We like to do them once a week in the summer but only managed to get two in this summer due to mono and bedbug issues.

We usually aim to get there at 8:00 in the morning.  On a weekend.  In the summer.  Because we're both fucking crazy but it's five hours of kid free time so we do it.  And I miss it.  Because two weeks of staying in the house fucks with your mind.


Also, during my house arrest, I discovered that I have a bee hive in the soffit on my back porch.  (And my spell checker is telling me that soffit isn't a word but fuck you spell checker!  Even wikipedia tells me it's a word.  Spell checker is such an asshole.)  Here's my plan and tell me what you think.  Since I didn't get what I wanted for my anniversary, I should instead convince the bees that I am their overlord.  They're highly intelligent insects, I am lead to believe but I think I can do it.  It will involve me covering myself in honey until they assume I am just part of the hive and then when I am part of the hive I will be part of the hive mind and when I am part of the hive mind, my more developed brain will be able to control the hive mind.  So, who will be able to stand in my way when I order a swarm of bees to attack?  Fucking no one, that's who!  She who controls the honey, controls the fucking world!

BONUS MONO UPDATE
I'm down to one nap in the afternoon now.  So basically, I am on par with a six month old.

Fun times in the E.R.

I have mono.  I find that funny for some reason but it's not so funny when all I can do is sleep.  It actually started with me going to urgent care.  I called my friend, who I will call Wonder Woman 'cause she's awesome like that, to drive me there at 5:00 because the web site said they closed at 6:00.  Wonder Woman drops me off and tells me she'll come hang out with me later because urgent care is where it's at, baby!  Yeah, they closed at 4:00.  FOUR O'CLOCK IN THE FUCKING AFTERNOON.  Hello Urgent Care people!  Most doctors are still open at that time!

Anyway,  I call Wonder Woman and tell her to come get me except I don't have her cell number.  So I call her house and tell her husband that he needs to call her to tell her that urgent care closes at 4:00 and they're all a bunch of big fucking liars.  But he deosn't answer so I end up leaving a message.  And then I call my mom, who was watching my kids at the time, and tell her she needs to call Wonder Woman's cell and urgent care are a bunch of big fucking liars.

So Wonder Woman picks me up and we go to the E.R. at University Hospital and she drops me off telling me she'll be back after her supper because, fuck urgent care, E.R. is where it's at baby.  I love that place!  It's where Kevin and I spend many hours each year, alone, together, waiting for the newest results of his CT Scans or MRIs to tell us his brain isn't bleeding after another seizure.  It's our own date night.  (Nothing says romance like bed pans and IVs).

The triage nurse - "Why are you here?"
Me - "Because I love the atmosphere here.  The lights are dim and everything is so clean.  Also, I think I have a UTI and I can't stay awake for more than two hours. Plus I'm dizzy and I'm not even drunk.  Yet."

So I go to the waiting room and fall asleep which is kind of hard because it's freezing and the chairs are not really comfortable but I had become a champion sleeper, what with the narcolepsy, so I do doze off.  Then they call my name and they put me in bed C-13.  I got all nostalgic because bed C-13 was the bed Kevin was in when they kept him from 7:00pm until 2:30am and we made up our own game of eye spy.  It went like this "I spy with my little eye something that is big, flat, you're lying on it and it's your bed."  And since it was so late at night we thought it was fucking hilarious but looking back now... no it's still fucking hilarious.

So after a while the doctor comes to see me.  I tell him that I'm pretty sure that I have a UTI and I've been tired and dizzy and my head has been numb and I've been slightly fevered.  He did all these drunk tests even though I kept telling him that I hadn't had anything to drink.  So he's all "we'll give you something to feel better and test you for a UTI but I don't know what to make of your symptoms."  And then I asked him to test me for mono because I had been kissing a lot of random people and he said sure I'll test you but I don't think that's it.

So the nurse comes over and asks how much I had to eat and drink that day.  I told her since it all came back up I don't really know if it matters how much I had to eat and drink and she agreed with me.  Then they put an IV in me and I guess they did something wrong because I watched the nice clean sheet I was covered in turn a lovely shade of bright red.  The nurse was all apologetic since it also got on my clothes and I was pissed because I came wearing my wedding dress and now it's ruined.

I keep falling asleep and waking up and falling asleep and waking up and falling asleep and waking up, waiting for Wonder Woman to get back and keep me company. But then this announcement comes over the speakers "Attention all staff, tornado warning is in effect". So I figure that since she's Wonder Woman and not Insane Woman, I would be alone for the rest of my visit.

Then I get a new neighbour.

Neighbour - "I had an HIV test done yesterday."
Nurse - "Do you have multiple partners?"
Neighbour - "Well, I'm a gay man and I like to get around."

I decided right then and there that I had to meet this guy but he left before I did and I was sleeping when he left so I never got to meet him.

So all of my tests come back and HEY!  I do have a UTI and HEY!  I do have mono.  So I'm thinking I should get forget my current "job" of staying home with my kids and work in the E.R. because clearly I'm better than the doctor who didn't think I had mono.  So, in your fucking face doctor!

And then I can't go home until the tornado warning was lifted and I don't get home until 11:15pm and I spend the next week sleeping.  And probably the week after that.  And fuck it, probably the week after that because I don't think I'm ever getting better.  Shit.

BONUS HOSPITAL EXPERIENCE
When Kevin had his first seizure in 2007, it was the first time since he left the hospital as a baby that he was there as a patient.  So they take him to have a CT scan and they come back with the news that Hey dudes!  Guess what, Kevin's get some extra brain in there but we don't know what it is yet so we're sending you to University Hospital to have an MRI!  And all Kevin does is complain about how much his IV hurt.  Fucked up priorities or fucking great drugs?  You tell me.

It's not really about video games, I promise.

I babysit my friend's son who I will call Borris for no other reason than I think more people should be named Borris.  He and I were hanging out playing Gears of War 2. Well, I was playing and he was shooting at the screen with a hockey stick machine gun (which is kind of cool but nowhere near as badass as the machine gun with a fucking CHAINSAW you get in the game). 

I turned off the swearing and the excessive blood for him because, even though it's normal in this house to hear "I said get me the ketchup, bitch, or I will come over and beat your fucking ass!" from the kids in this house, I know that most other parents like the "please" and "thank you" way of doing things.  And even though in this house the kids think an awesome head shot is a thing of beauty, I know most parents like to stick with Sponge Bob or some shit like that.

So I'm playing and there's the occasional "damn" "ass" and "hell" to be heard but I know my friend will be OK with that because those are words she says from time to time, even around Borris.  And then Dom dies (for those not in the know, you play as Marcus and Dom is either your co-op or AI partner and hell if you're not in the know, go out and play the game because it fucking rocks) and I go and revive him and Marcus says "Get up you pussy" when Dom is revived.

And I'm thinking "Shit!  She's going to kill me!  I went to all this fucking trouble to not have the swearing and Marcus pulls this shit!  Oh well, maybe Borris didn't notice."

And then Borris says "Get up you pussy!" while shooting his hockey stick machine gun at the screen.

I spent the rest of the afternoon listening for him to keep calling everyone a pussy but he didn't so he either didn't hear or he loves me so much he wants to keep me from getting in trouble.  But I did tell my friend, just in case Borris went to her the next morning and said "Hey mom! Get up you pussy!  I love you!".  My friend just laughed when I told her because I have fucking awesome friends.


BONUS ABSURD VIDEO GAME DIALOGUE
I was replaying Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood and I get to the part where Desmond goes to eat a sandwich and Rebecca calls him a carnivore.  And then Shaun is all "You know plants give off pheromones that blah blah blah blah blah" and Rebecca's all "You know too much stuff".  Or something like that.  Anyway, what Shaun should have said is "Rebecca, you do realize we're fucking ASSASSINS right?  That we KILL PEOPLE FOR A LIVING." Then he should have demonstrated by killing Lucy because she's such a bitch in that game.

Happy four day anniversary blog! And there's something else today too, I recall.

It's August 23rd.  Do you know what that means?  It means that I've been writing on this blog for FOUR WHOLE DAYS!  Oh, and I think it's my 14th wedding anniversary or something.

Aug. 23 1997 - Kevin and I get married and go to Ottawa for our honeymoon.  We were camping.  One night it rained really badly so we set out to find a hotel.  The only one that had any space in it was part of a seedy bar.  When they showed us the room, I started to wonder if maybe spending the night sleeping in the rain would have been a better choice.

Me: "Ummm, what the fuck is that thing?  It's like a spider web that hangs from one corner of the room to the next.  Are they breeding huge fucking spiders here?  Are we to be their next meal?"
Kevin: "You may be right.  We should take turns sleeping, just to be safe."

There's loud music from the bar directly above us.  I don't know what time it was, but the music stopped and then there was a barrage of loud, drunk and (I assume) scary looking people in the hall outside the door to our room.
Me: "Did you bring the shotgun?"
Kevin: "We don't have a shotgun."
Me: "What the hell were we thinking?  Who goes on a honeymoon without a fucking shotgun!"

I wonder how many people had fucked in the bed Kevin and I slept in.  And I wonder if they ever changed the sheets between visitors.  We slept on top of the covers in our sleeping bags, both curled up in the fetal position, with one eye open and fixed on the door.

Happy Anniversary Kev! We were so young, so... undead.

BONUS ANNIVERSARY PRESENT IDEA!
I saw this in an article at Cracked.com.  I don't want one.  Oh no no no no.  I want ONE FUCKING THOUSAND OF THEM!

That's a Draganflyer X6 Six Rotor UAV.  Here's what they say about it:

The Draganflyer X6 is a remotely operated, unmanned, miniature helicopter designed to carry wireless video cameras and still cameras.

Their application for it, while practical for some people I suppose, fucking sucks.  I mean, sure, I would love to fly this thing up to someone's bedroom window and start snapping away and post those pictures on the internet but I am thinking that I would get so much use out of this beyond taking pictures.

Let's say your kid forgot her lunch.  Just fly that bad boy over to the school and it's delivered without having to leave your living room!

Words cannot describe how much I hate shopping. (OK, maybe they can.  I fucking hate shopping.)  But, if I had one of these following me around carrying my bags and making people dive out of my path in fear, I would never leave the mall!  Of course, I would put a little Santa hat on it at Christmas time.

Salesman at the door?  Have a few hundred of these fly over the roof and just sit there at the edge of the roof looking at the guy when you answer the door.
Salesman: "Hi!  I'm here on behalf of some scam trying to get you to switch your natural gas provider. Do you have a copy of your most recent bill - HOLY MOTHER OF GOD WHAT ARE THOSE?"
Me: "What? Oh those? Those are just a little science project I've been working on.  Don't worry, they haven't killed anyone."
Salesman: "Um, OK.  Like I was saying, do you have a copy of your most recent statement for your natural gas that I could see?"
Me: "Sure, just give me a minute."
Salesman: "Um, they just moved."
Me: "I'm sorry, what?"
Salesmen: "Your, uh, science project.  They just moved forward a bit."
Me: "Oh shit. Yeah, sorry about that.  They've been acting a little strange these past few days."
Salesman: "So, they're not supposed to move on their own like that?"
Me: "Well, no but since I started tinkering with their central core processors, I think they may have become self aware.  You know, this could explain why I haven't heard the dogs next door barking in a few days.... Now, what was it that you wanted.  Oh right!  My gas bill."
Salesman: "No, it's OK.  I can, um, see that you're terribly busy right now.  Yeah, that's it, you're busy.  I'll come back another time."
Me: "Are you sure?  I'm sure I can find the bill if you just give me another minute or two."
Salesman (from the end of the driveway): "No, that's fine!  I wouldn't want to take away from your obviously busy schedule!"

And of course a few hundred of these following me around would be a step forward in my world domination plan. Like Megamind's minions.  Only I would equip mine with flamethrowers.  And I would need a cape, an awesome haircut (I'm thinking purple) and some thigh high leather boots.  When I walk into the next PTA meeting with even just 50 of these following me and demand to be supreme dictator of the PTA, who will be man enough to stand against me?  Fucking NO ONE!

What do I want in a minivan? I don't know, do they have flying ones?

We are currently a one car family.  We have four kids.  We can't all fit into a car.  We can't all go the same place at the same time without some complicated plans that involves other cars and other drivers (and sometimes time travel).

So we are looking at minivans.  We can't afford one right now, but we are still looking.  Priorities in a minivan for me:

• kickass sound system
• a wall that comes up between the front and the back (like in a limo, but not because I want to have sex in the van without my kids seeing me, because I want to pretend they're not there also then they could have sex without me seeing them (but not with each other because that would be wrong))
• front and rear ejection seats
• rocket launcher
• ability to drop tacks behind me (just in case I am involved in a high speed chase)
• vending machine

Kevin wants a towing package but that costs an extra $700 so I think he's being unreasonable.

And I would have to name the van.  Currently we have a 2002 Jetta that is black.  We call her Ninjetta.  What would I call a minivan?  Minion perhaps?  Oh I know!  The gas chamber!  "Hey kids, you have five minutes to get into the gas chamber or I'm leaving without you!"
 
So we're looking at used ones.  There is actually one with a fucking sofa bed in it!  And built in vacuum (but I'm not entirely sure what a vacuum is, so I don't know if I should be impressed by that).  But it didn't have racing stripes so we stopped looking at that one. (And I just now realize that a fucking sofa bed would be much better than a just regular sofa bed.)

BONUS MEMORY:
One time we had to buy two new car seats because the old ones expired (who even knew they did that?).  Kid2 and Kid3 loved the boxes and wanted to sleep in them so we let them for a week.  "Get back in your box!" was said many nights that week.

Also, I have scheduled this to post at 6:00 AM on Monday so it would look like I was up and being productive at the time.