Pre-School Countdown

Faith returns to school tomorrow. May I just say THANK GOODNESS! I was thaaat close to selling her to the gypsies. We had open house this afternoon, her teacher is awesome- I've known her since I was a kid- and Faith is ready to head back to class.

My back and shoulders are feeling much better today. My head has been hurting on and off, but I think it's due to the tea Konetta gave me instead of going splat in the floor.

This really tasty tea is from the Amazon and is really good for just about anything that ailes you. A good cleanse she says. A good energy boost she says. I have been running full blast all day, that I can't deny. Konetta swears there are no illegal substances in this tea. All natural. All 100% good for you. I wonder if I will be cleaning out the garage soon or dusting the ceiling fans at 4am. I'm glad I drank it very early in the morning. This stuff must be Amazon Red Bull!

B- What kind of cake? I've been dreaming of cake all day. Tomorrow, I eat cake!

Ra- Jef really enjoyed the photos of your dog wearing your bra on its head. He's just all guy, huh?! And I'm envious of your new washer/dryer. We have an older front load and I love it. Faith will watch it for hours- it's the "PPV Clothes Fight".

Oh and speaking of Faith, I must share her latest Faithism: (after watching a cartoon with a reference to Sparticus) "Mother, I am Farticus!". Yes baby- you are indeed!

-- The Milk Maid send cake in lieu of flour.

And it's only 9:45am **UPDATED**

Ava woke up with a HUGE poopie in her diaper. Poopie doesn't do it justice- this was a dook. A brown trout. A peanut butter bomb. Not something you'd want to smell pre-coffee.

I managed to gain 5 lbs since yesterday morning. WTF?! And all I ate was stale rice cakes. Oh, and that spaghetti. Oops.

Ava scaled the fireplace (as I was weighing) and grabbed a small rock out of the gas logs. I heard her grabbing around and shuffling so I ran back into the den. When she saw me coming she started shoving the rock into her mouth like a spy would with a secret document. I fished it out as she protested by biting (gumming) me. Add rocks to the random crap she's determined to eat.

I walk back into the kitchen with Ava in my arms to find something for breakfast and slipped on the tile. I busted it, complete with kiddo in tow. She was fine- she actually landed on top of me and giggled at me. I was pissed. And my knee hurt a little. Now my shoulders are sore.

Then my pal Konetta called. I have an appointment with her today. That I'd forgotten about. That I don't really want to go to in the first place. I rescheduled to 11 since mom is gone, dad is gone, and I don't want to go to RELAX with The Faith and Ava Show. Jef offered to leave work and watch them. I appreciate his offer, but no. He needs to work and make some of that green stuff. What's that stuff called? Money. Yeah- that.

I need a bag of chocolate and a place to hide for an hour... who's with me?!

*~*~*~*~*~*
I went and enjoyed my hour with Konetta. She slathered my back up with tons of essential oils to help with the pain and the swelling and the nastiness of it all. Thanks Koni- without you I would be hiding under a desk, somewhere in Texas, gorged on chocolate. (That still does sound good though!)

I'm going to put Ava down for a nap, take a nice long shower, watch my recorded episode of the Y&R, and relax until my Big J gets home. :D

Stale Rice Cakes

I am wolfing down my 3rd rather stale rice cake of the day. I know, how can you tell if they are stale... they taste like styrofoam anyway. I bought this pack in 2005. I'm pretty sure they're stale. But, being one of iron-stomach, I am eating it regardless.

I keep thinking I see Buster. At the door, in his cage, on the front porch. Jef thought he heard his tail wagging in his crate. I've heard that too. During one of Ava's late night nursing sessions I would have sworn under oath that Buster has jumped from his favorite spot on the front porch swing and trotted off. My heart knows he's gone, but my mind still thinks he should be here doing all of his little Buster-weener things.

On a brighter note... It's been a pretty quiet day around here. I've been surfing the net, catching up on a few emails (meaning emailing B at work, shhh!), Im-ing with Jef and Meg. Ava has been content to play with Faith or crawl around at my feet. I enjoy days like this! I have even gotten the Huge Book O' Emails out from the cabinet and I'm rereading all the old emails Jef and I sent back and forth during our courtship. We're some romantic people!

--The Milk Maid is best if used by her expiration date

Oh, The Ponderance!

The discussion of "should we" versus "when will we" have another baby has come to the forefront.

I know there are many of you who are still waiting for number 1... and we're on to the next possibility.

Please vent to me your fears, frustrations, and all the like...

We're still many, many months away from the TTC game. I don't want to step on any toes, so I guess I am begging permission here. I remember how small a thing it was that would send me "over the edge" when we were first TTC... Seeing people preggo and not having that baby of my own to hold. I don't want to be any one's link to insanity or compulsion or depression. So- give me your feedback... aradia7dragon at yahoo dot com!!!

--The Milk Maid is not one to bite the hand that feeds her.

Beautiful Friday Mish-Mash

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood children! Yes- I am in a perky mood. Could that have something to do with the amorous adventures of a certain Milk Maid and her dearest? Certain adventures times TWO please. Nothing puts you to sleep for the night like love-making, and there's nothing like a good predawn romp to make the blood flow!

And whilst on the topic of sex, Jef finally figured out how to make his penis 8 inches. It was simple really. He just folded it in half!

The sound of silence fills the air here. Faith and Ava are fast asleep in their beds. The cat is curled up asleep at my feet. The coffee maker has stopped it's perking. Just the sound of my fingernails clacking away at the keyboard. I am taking a minute to soak it all in.

For all the new moms who don't have mobile children (yet) and all the mom's-in-waiting who are seeking a baby-bean all their own, let me tell you what having a 10 month old is like:

Having a 10 month old is like having a velociraptor as a pet. Remember those pesky little miniature t-rex types from Jurrassic Park? The ones who would watch the humans and learn to replicate their every move. Like learning to open doors, dismantle remotes, move furniture, manipulate siblings, and climb fireplaces. Ok, so the Jurassic Park dinos only opened doors and tried to eat people, but you get my drift here.

Have I told you the story of how Ava didn't want to sleep one night a month or so ago... and she decided to rip the pretty little Classic Winnie The Pooh border off her wall behind the crib? Yep. Tore it in half. Her crib now sits about 3 feet off the wall.

On the upside of being such a smart little dare-devil, I have managed to teach Ava a few tricks. My favorite thing she does is she lays her head over to the side when you say, "Who's sweet?" and gives you the sweetest most innocent smile ever! And then she will continue upon her path of destruction. I don't think it a coincidence at all that there was a hurricane named Helene when I was pregnant with Miss Ava Helene.

Who's so sweet to help mommy blog!


She was "brushing" the cat with the hairbrush- he left before I could get that photo.


Ava is talking to the cat in this picture.
She's giving him heck over something- I think she called him a dodo bird!


--The Milk Maid is a proud member of the mommy-bloggers guild.

Jef's Update

The creatinine level is down .4 to 4.4--- which is better.

But Dr. F*ucknut seems to be writing a study paper on this type of kidney disease for a University and would "love to speak with your wife about doing a biopsy for that... and for your health Jef."

Glad the doc's priorities are strait.

I'm off to research alternative treatment options.

I'm really to the point where I have stopped giving a shit about diet and kidneys and creatinine. I will do all I can to support Jef through this never ending sea of b.s., but it is not going to rule my life or influence my state of mind any more. I have stayed amazingly positive today. And I chalk it all up to just not caring. Of course I care about Jef- I don't mean it that way. I care for him more than anything.

But I can't continue to ride this roller coaster or it will wind up killing ME.

Early Morning Game Of Tag

Estella's Moms have tagged me... and goodness knows there are always 8 random things about me I can come up with to share:

1. I have a mole above my belly button. It's a pretty Cindy Crawford type mole, only a lot lower than hers. It's my only mole.

2. I have a random scar in my eyebrow that I think came from one of my childhood adventures with my 2 older (boy) cousins. They threw a lot of stuff at me growing up- sticks, rocks, baseballs... and made me eat bugs to be in their "club".

3. Songs I downloaded on Tuesday: My Sharona (The Knack), Under Pressure (Queen and David Bowie), Touch Me (The Doors)

4. I was the lead singer of a band in High School-- called Chaos. I never met the drummer, the bassist had a crush on me, and my gal-pal Lisa was the guitarist. She'd never played the guitar before.

5. I have a tattoo of Charlie Brown on my butt cheek.

6. I have 3 additional tattoos. I used to have my belly button and my nose pierced.

7. I was blonde as a child, and highlighted my hair until about 5 or 6 years ago. My natural color is a deep brown with auburn tones.

8. My goal as a child was to become a stand up comedian.

Strange Phone Call

The message on my answering machine said:

"Hi, this is So-in-so from the City Hall of Ottawa, Kansas. I am trying to reach you (First Initial, Last Name) in regards to a parking ticket you received on July 17th. We have traced the tag back to you, and would like to speak to you in person regarding this ticket. Responding now to this courtesy call will allow you to pay the small fine of $5 instead of the larger fine of $25. Please mail a check today to..."

First of all I panicked. OMG when did I get a parking ticket?

Then the logical side of my brain say, "Hey you dumbass... you have never been to KANSAS!".

So it's a mistake right? But that fear still lingered. Did someone steal a tag that was mine and go park next to a fire hydrant or something? Do I have a tag on my car now?! I was at the water park in my dad's truck when I checked my messages, so I had to ride for 30 minutes to see that yes, I still have a tag attached to my car. It's the only tag I've ever had in my name, so that really narrowed that down.

I called Mrs. So-in-so. I left Mrs. So-in-so a message saying there must be a mistake, I'd be happy to discuss this with her at her convenience, and then I mentioned that I'd never, ever been to Kansas, but it sounds like a really nice place!

Of course dad had to comment on this. Of course he did, where do you think I learned my snarky ways? What'd he say?... Something to the effect of, "Did you click your red heels and fly off to Kansas and forget about it?"

My response (in my trademarked monotone never-skip-a-beat style):

"The Bitch Shoes don't have magical powers dad."

Oh yeah, and it was all a case of mistaken identity. Seems when you leave the name Aradia on someones machine all they can seem to reply is "Oh, I thought I was calling Ann [Lastname]".

--The Milk Maid says the bitch (shoe) is back with fresh snark.

I Can't Decide...

... Should I enter the week with a negative attitude?

Yeah, you know it sure feels like it's going to be the week from hell. Monday my dog dies, Tuesday my mom's a bitch (oh wait, that's every day)-- Tuesday I have to tell my extremely tender-hearted drama queen 9 year old that yet another animal has crapped out on us. Wednesday- perhaps I'll break a toe or get Avian Flu. Thursday is Jef's blood draw- come on and clap you hands while I have a full scale melt down. Friday- well, I'm expecting a shower of molten lead!
Or-
...Should I look for the life lesson in all this? By the way, I must squinch up my face when I say life lesson- I look like a tiny mole going 'liiife lessin' all smooshie-faced.

[Announcer voice]: Your dog may be dead, but it's not your hubby, your kids, or you - so HEY it's all good.

Ok- I do kind of see it that way. I'm trying to keep the humor alive here because if you can't laugh then you'll go insane, right? It could be a lot worse than it already is. I know that! But I like some feeling of normalcy in my life. I don't remember a day in the past... 6 months? Year? Two years? When everything was just "normal". When I wasn't worried about anything other than what grocery store to shop at or how to cut my hair.

Jef and I had a long discussion last night about what truth is. Is the truth something you believe to be true, or something that is proven correct, whether you have validity of that or not. Faith's truth right now is that Buster is just sick. In her world he's still alive. In my world, I know the truth is that he has passed on. So is truth subjective? Is it all relative? I don't know.

Like A Bad Country And Western Song...

I'm to the line where my dog dies. We had to put Buster the weener dog down tonite.

They aren't sure what was wrong with him, but his urine was almost nothing but blood, his blood cells were busting in his veins, and he was circling the drain when we got to the emergency vet clinic. They couldn't promise he'd make it through the night with $1800+ worth of meds and care, so the only humane thing left to do was put him down.

Pardon me while I voice my frustrations: FUCK!

--The Milk Maid said it's just not fair.

Hyphenated Friday Mish-Mash

Ava said "mama". Well, it's more like "mum-mum" but I'm cool with that. Anything is better than being called "cat".

As I sit watching Ava toss freshly washed bottles onto the wood floor (after taste testing and making sure they are empty) I try to remember what the awesome question I asked Jef was the other day via text message. He doesn't remember, and I don't remember, and I've long since erased those old texts to make room for more. This will plague me for days to come.

Who's idea was it to make babies so much faster at grabbing than their parents are at stopping them? No, not the question I was contemplating earlier, but one Ava just put into my head as she yanked half the papers off my computer table. File that one under the same category as why babies eat paper (gleefully), why babies have razors for finger nails, why babies crawl off the edge of beds, and why do babies pinch and kick while nursing. Maybe the last one only applies to my kid.

Ava has decided to wake up on average about 4-6 times a night to grab a boobie-snack and then go back to sleep. Believe it or not, I'm not real hot on this idea. Ava- for goodness sake kid, you're 10 months old. Start sleeping through the nite- there's just not enough caffeine to keep me social on that kind of schedule. You didn't do that as a newborn. What's up dawg?

Oh yeah- 28 years ago today my parents adopted me. They make a big deal out of Me Day. I guess I should be more excited this year, but I'm not. We used to go eat, drink, and be merry. But with Jef's dietary restrictions as they are, and my mother's rectal-cranial inversion, there's nothing we all can eat and no one has much fun anyway. So I shall take the $50 they gave me and go buy shoes or a bra or something. Or put half a tank of gas in my car- whoo!

Just remembered the question I was pondering earlier: Why are there no windows inside the airplane bathrooms? Come on, who's gonna be peaking at 30,000 feet?

--The Milk Maid says you can dance if ya wanna, you can leave your woes behind!

Catching Up-

If you love overpaying for food, being shoved around, no air conditioning, and a bunch of rude-ass people stepping on you, your 9 year old, and your baby... then the GA Aquarium is for you.

I will never go back. There is not enough money or anti-social meds in this world. That is the suckiest suck-hole on the face of the planet. Don't waste your dollars!

Ava liked the fish when she wasn't being trampled. Faith had fun when she wasn't getting pushed out of the way by adults. I didn't have to kill anyone. Dad always has fun.

May I add that perhaps my day didn't start so well... We refinanced the house today (hello wiggle room!) and the loan officer called this morning saying that instead of the $46 we needed to bring to closing, we now needed $1744.28. That was freakout #1. And, of course, no trip would be complete without the start of our pal- Aunt Flo. In my rush to ensure Faith's camera was packed, Ava had diapers and wipes, and everything else was taken care of I forgot to pack any tampons- hence freakout #2. Luckily, I used a super-ultra-maximum-extra-cottonie "tampoon" (Jef's word) this morning in anticipation of my friend's arrival. I had a quarter in my wallet and used that to buy an additional tampon from the feminine hygiene vending machine. Or, well I thought I was buying a tampon. A life raft sized pad tumbled out instead. Whatever works I suppose.

After our adventure at the aquarium we decided to go to the World of Coke Museum. Which by "we" I mean dad. It has air conditioning- lots of it! Plus, all the free soda you could drink awaited us at the end of our tour. They have tons of different Coke products from around the world. If you ever have the opportunity to try Beverly soda from Italy, don't. It tasted like a cross between walnut shells soaked in urine and black pepper. I did like the sour lemon soda from England. Faith's favorite was "the Coke from South America". I told her I'd heard that was some pretty good stuff, but I'd never tried it- it wasn't my thing. Puzzled, she pointed to the machine, rather helpfully and in almost a Vanna White fashion. I was glad she didn't get my alternate meaning.

--The Milk Maid says where be the fishin' poles?

How I Met Jef

I don't think I've blogged more than a paragraph on this before... so here's the How I Met Jef story:

I was a real estate assistant at a local office (when RE meant real estate and had nothing to do with reproduction!). I was in the process of building my house, divorcing my then husband, and having a small affair with a guy in the office whom we shall call D.

L (Jef's ex) started working at the r.e. office and we became friends. About 6 months into our friendship I let her in on the little secret affair I was having. D became our "partner in crime" so to speak. He was always with her, where ever we all went, because she was nice enough to let him tag along so I could hang out with him.

Or so I thought...

You see, L was having an affair with D behind my back. Which, he was no great catch, rest assured. Nothing for women to be fighting over for certain. I was 21 and I was clueless.

In the meantime, Jef knew how L was playing me- getting me all worked up for nothing over D (by this time his interest in me was fading). She kept forcing me into situations with him, to see him, to go places- and she'd tag along. Jef wasn't 21, but he was clueless too as to why L was such a "helpful" person. It all came out in the open one weekend after L had a party at her house while Jef was at a car show.

Jef came home from a weekend away to learn of a VERY wild party- wild to the point that I left because of certain activities. And certain people. Anyway- L was packing her things as Jef came in the house. He confronted her about the party (news traveled fast) and she tried to make HIM look like the bad guy. So after 14 years of marriage, she was gone.

I had no clue she'd left when I called her house to chat. I asked Jef if she was there. He replied no. I said, "What'd she do, run away?"

And there was silence on the other end. Talk about sticking your foot in your mouth. It all started to become very clear. I apologised the best I could to Jef, but for once I was speechless.

I was at a party a few days later at another co-worker's house (a pre-Halloween event of sorts). After downing nearly a whole bottle of Bombay Blue Sapphire Gin I stumbled to her back porch. Everyone was gone except a couple people. I was spending the night at the hostess' house. I guess the time was around 11:30. I make a point not to call anyone past 9:30pm. Because I'm a prude I guess. But anyways... I got it in my mind that I MUST CALL JEF to see how he is. There was no way around it. I had to call. I had the house number on speed dial.

After 2 rings a very sleepy sounding Jef comes on the line. A very sheepish and drunk sounding me asked how he was doing, apologised again for the comment I made the other day, said a few more unintelligible words, and hung up. Little did I know I'd set into motion the greatest event in my life.

All of that was on a Friday night. On Sunday morning I got a call on my cell phone. It was Jef thanking me for checking in on him. We chatted a few minutes and then decided to meet up and go grab dinner later in the week.

It was better to eat together than be lonely we said. That was our motivation. However, as a few weeks went past, I knew I'd marry this sweet, sweet man.

I remember the first time he told me he loved me. We were sitting at the bar of our favorite restaurant having a cocktail and eating some seafood. He kept trying to say something, but he kept sidetracking himself and he was looking all sheepish and silly and cute. I knew what he was trying to say (I hoped I knew!) so I said, "Spit it out JC!"

He did. I told him I loved him too. He told me he was so afraid I'd be offended or put off or just get up and leave. I told him he was a worrywart and I'd been waiting on those words for what seemed like forever.

By late December he'd moved in with me. My house was finally a home! And even my Republican, Baptist parents had no objection to this wonderful man. My dad knew that Faith had finally found a "daddy". My mom didn't worry that my ex would try to hurt me or break in (Jef is like 3 times his size... Heck, I'm 3 times his size!).

We got engaged the day the Superbike races were at Daytona (That's motorcycles and March, FYI). He'd asked my father for his permission to marry me, which was granted (with a no return policy- dad said he'd already raised me once, and he didn't want me back again- thanks dad! Always a funny guy!).

We got married October 5th, 2002.

Which was one year to the day after my tipsy phone call to check in on Jef.

Half Moon

Here's the story behind my semi-moon:

I was best friends with Jef's ex-wife (We'll call her L). After leaving my ex-husband I went to their house for a night of a few drinks and a little escape.

Let me stop right here and say never let Jef pour you a cocktail. His sense of proportion is all screwed up. A screwdriver is (in my drinkable opinion) 3 parts orange juice and 1 part vodka. Jef's ideal screwdriver is vodka with a splash of OJ. You kinda see where this is going, right?

So, part way into the evening we're laughing and talking and L puts on some music. I suddenly decide it is the PRIME opportunity to show everyone my new thong. L was adamant that I buy a thong, we'd talked about thongs in front of Jef, so what the hell- I yank my pants halfway down my butt to reveal my new snake-skin patterned panties. L was all, "Yay! You got thongs!" and Jef was doing the most amazing job at looking, while not looking obvious, while really looking.

We've laughed about it ever since!

--Milk Maid says shake it like a Polaroid picture

Faith Wins Lotto!

My dad has been buying Faith $1 scratch off lotto tickets here and there for the past few weeks. She would grab a coin, scratch that little ticket with visions of money dancing about her head, only to discover there was nothing on the ticket to be won.

As I was leaving the grocery store the other day I poked $5 into the machine, got a FatCat ticket and a couple other $1 tickets for us to enjoy. Faith picked the $2 FatCat and I scratched the other 3. She WON $5 (I got zilch). So, after breaking even we stop at another store (gas station) on the way in (I'm 20 minutes from this particular grocery store, welcome to nowhere!). I got 5 $1 tickets. I scratch 2 off and win absolutely nothing. Faith scratched the other 3 and won $11. She thought she was the stuff- let me tell you. She's still deciding whether or not to invest her money in more tickets or add it to her cash-stash upstairs in her room.

Jef just reminded me of an incident before we got married where I semi-mooned him in my thongs. This is when he was still married to his ex-wife! Which makes it all the more funny now.

I think we may try to go visit the GA Aquarium some time this week... I've never been and it is supposed to be mack-daddy good. Plus, my dad is driving and paying... so how bad can it be?!

--Milk Maid says, "If it's free, it's me!"

All In The Family

Remember my obscenely skinny cousin and her daughter who came to visit not long ago? I got this great email from her today telling all about Laken's "Moment's of Blondness"! I'm glad it's not just my kid saying these things:

Laken: You know the big help wanted sign they have posted in the post office? Well what do you do when you see one of those?
Jodi: Well you go inside and ask for an application.
Laken: What if we are driving down the street and see one of them?
Jodi: Same thing, it means they need people to work for them.
Laken: Not that, I mean they are walking down the street!
Jodi (a little frustrated): Signs don't walk Laken!!
Laken: Not the sign, the person on it.

Are you with me now, do you see what's happening?

Jodi: Laken that is not a Help Wanted Sign, it is a MOST wanted sign!!! And if you see those people on it you dial 911 and stay away from them. They don't want to hire them, they want to arrest them!! And NO the Post Office is not the jail so don't ask that either, they are helping the police out!!

And one more...

The kids were outside and Laken notices the dog is out of water. They come in and she gets a huge cup and fills it with water and goes outside while Luke [Jodi's son who was at camp during their trip down here] is yelling "No! Laken not that way!". I tell him to hush and let her give the dog water however she wishes. She comes back in the house and then it happens...

Luke: You know Laken there is an easier way to do that.
Laken: How?
Luke: You know the dog's water bowl is right beside of the water spigot.
Laken (in her most agitated voice with hands on both hips and shaking her head): Now Luke you know that dog can't reach that water spigot even if he does stand on his hind legs!!!!

I immediately double over laughing, and Luke follows, and Laken stands there going "What? Tell me too!"

--The Milk Maid is a user friendly device

Friday Mish Mash

I can never remember if I put a hyphen in Mish-Mash or not: Mish Mash. I'm going to just keep everyone on their toes with that, lemme tell ya!

Faith was watching cartoons this morning (Jimmy Neutron- maybe?) and one of the characters says, "North Dakota is a myth!". Faith shrieks, "North Dakota isn't a myth, it's a country!".

My family is trying to kill me, but they are being really sneaky about it. Jef, my mom, and my dad all have doc appointments on the same day. Jef's getting his blood draws and goodness knows what else, dad is having another somethingerother done to his kidneys (when the conversations starts 'they take this light and stick it up my...' I just stop listening), and mom is having a tendon cut in her toe so it wont curl under anymore. She was the recipient of a botched foot operation 15 years ago. She's just now getting around to repairing the damage it caused.

So, 3 appointments, one day. What are the odds that my gyno will call back and need me to come in on AUG 2nd for my odd pap smear.

Oh yeah, like, January of 2006 I had a slightly weird pap come back. After getting preggo and everything I kinda forgot about it. I'm addressing the situation now. Dr. Karin said it was no biggie, she thinks. But she'll call. Around the beginning of August. Sheish!

Ava is obsessed with the telephone. She yanks it out of the holder and proceeds to poke at the buttons. She was only making noise, I thought, until my aunt called and asked who just rang her number then hung up on her. I told her it was Ava, and she cracked up. At least she calls my NICE relatives. My aunt Sue is like my nuther muther... she's almost 73, walks 4 miles a day, goes to funerals and memorial services to "see her friends" and "for fun", and can outpace me any day of the week.

Here's a funny (funny weird and funny quirky) story: Sue's two best teacher friends (all 3 are retired) are roommates. S&S rock- totally! They would treat me to shopping and hiking and bike rides as a kid. Anything I wanted they'd grab up and lavish upon me! S&S have been roommates for over 30 years. They've bought 2 or 3 houses together. The last house they bought my aunt, my mom, me and a few other random people all got together and bought them some nice house warming gifts. I was the only person there who understood WHY these two roommates had bought a 1 bedroom house. Is my family just overlooking the obvious relationship these ladies share? Or, is my family really that naive?

And today's trivia question is:
Over 85% of all streakers have what in common?

--The Milk Maid says TGIF!

I Would Have Written Sooner...

But my cooch has been on fire. I have a yeast infection. And I really wondered, shall I blog this? Nothing has been taboo so far...

After last weeks sexcapades (Thurs-Fri-Sat) I started to feel a burning in my loins. Well, maybe not loins, but close by. I thought it was desire! Lo and behold, it was yeast a brewin'. I bought $22 worth of Mon*stat Monday morning. As I sit, naked, perched atop my toilet reading the instructions I wonder to myself WHY does the creme and goose egg (more on the goose egg in a few) that I am about to shove up my toot require a note on the directions that it "may cause itching and burning"?? WTF! I'm trying to prevent itching and burning. I buck up, take the odd-shaped plunger do-hickey and shove a "soft pill" the size of a daggum goose egg up my tutu. I take the small tube of creme, apply to areas as needed, and start a dance that can only be described as the "uhhmegawsh that's burning my thang" dance.

I decided to look for holistic cures, because I am a fan of the natural methods of wellness (and I felt like some big, fat CEO man was laughing at my angst of paying $22 for something that didn't help me!). The top recommendations were: Take yogurt with live cultures, place into a tampon applicator, freeze, and insert. I could only imagine me walking into TCBY and asking the young, pimple-faced boy to "fill this" please as I presented Playtex's finest pink applicator. Ok, so the next suggestion was take a peeled garlic clove... did you just cringe cause I did... and shove it in your minge. Yep. Think about it. You done? You're gonna smell like shrimp scampi.

Knowing that I had a doctor's appointment at the gyno today, I toughed out my situation as best I could. Basically, I've washed and blown dry down there and gone sans undergarments since Tuesday. You'd think I was a card carrying member of the Kojack Commandos just like Britney Spears.

At the doc's office today Dr. Karin promptly speculumed my tender bits and proceeded to describe my yeastie condition as a "classic" yeast infection. And then commanded her two assistants to LOOK at the yeast. All I could think of was K's blog on the Tutu show. I will forevermore keep tickets on my person at all times for just such an occasion.

Oh, you think we're done? No... I must tell you how much a doc's Rx for twat-creme is running these days. $54.55! And my insurance saved me $34.12. I was seriously wondering to myself, "Is my hooch really in that bad of shape? $55 bucks!! I could go to Wal-Mart with that cash!".

I bought the creme. I am glad I did. I feel like inserting a bread making joke here, but I think it would just be too much.

--The Milk Maid is so not into baking.

The "How's Jef?" Blog

(If you've missed it, Jef has impaired renal function... meaning his kidneys aren't working properly, meaning kidney disease. His creatinine levels were 6.7 on his 1st doc visit, and 4.8 later on. Normal is 1.5-2. They will do dialysis at around 10, with kidney transplants after that. Hopefully, we wont get to that any time soon. His bp has been high- as high as 240/190, but is now close to where they want him to be at 125/70. This is probably not something he will ever get rid of, but were working together to keep him as healthy as possible for as long as possible with a low, low sodium diet, low fat, low cholesterol, low protein, very small amounts of red meat diet!)

Thanks to everyone who asked how my Big J is doing... Let's break it down:

Jef hasn't had a creatinine level recheck yet. He goes back August 2nd for more blood tests (and I am due for a nervous breakdown sometime that afternoon, I'm certain- I always fall apart blood draw days).

He recently had a bout with gout. Gout is somethingerother where your joints swell or something- I dunno I kinda just kept thinking about gout being something my 80 year old uncle got and couldn't keep my mind on Jef long enough for the textbook description of it. Jef's ankles and feet swelled up to Polish Sausage proportions, I freaked (noo, not me!) thinking it was because of loss of function in his kidneys. He got some meds* and is better now.

*Ok- these meds they gave him for gout came with a warning from the lady doc (the one I like and can tolerate, usually) to "not take these at work until you know how you will react". Jef was confused, what reaction will I have?... he pondered. The lady doc said they make you poop. A lot. Uncontrollably. Jef now understands what it's like to no longer have a gaul bladder (my g.b. is long gone!).

Jef's waist size before all this: 42
Jef's weight before all this: 238
Jef's waist size now: 34
Jef's weight now: 204
My level of disgust at someone losing weight so darn easily: 10
My proudness meter at my babe doing so great: Off the charts

He had a long conversation with lady doc about "The Biopsy". She said it was just one way to narrow down treatment options (but didn't she also say there were no treatment options except diet management, hummmm!). Yes it was invasive, but she's had people never even know they've had it done. She wouldn't make him have it, they could work around with other methods. So, as of right now, I am still winning the F-CK NO YOU WON'T HAVE A BIOPSY argument. I've heard too many horror stories. Period. Nope. If they can work around it (and pay for their Mercedes another way!!) then no hole poking. Jef thinks I am a total freak about all that, but- well maybe I am. I have one of those gut feelings that screams NOOOO! whenever I think about it. It's a feeling like the night I made my mother put on her seat belt and 5 minutes later we had a car accident that would have killed us if we'd not been wearing those seat belts. Or like the time I told my mother not to drive during that thunderstorm, something bad was in the air, and we almost got sucked into a tornado and crushed by a falling oak tree. Who can argue that logic? Besides YOU Jef.

That's all the news that is news for now... Of course I will update as we learn more! Thanks for checking on my bades everyone!

--The Milk Maid isn't psychic, she just plays one on TV

The Sex of Beer

In the middle of a discussion on our pending home refinance:

J: We will just enjoy life and take what comes.
A: Yeah- we're broke and you're gonna die. Haha- Oops thats not my happy face, lemme find my happy face!
J: HUMMIE
A: Ahhh- yeah, we've always made it and we always will.
J: Yeah!
A: And then you're gonna die and i'll be broke :-
J: HA HA
A: Simple as that, no wonder YOU dont worry. You've found a way out, hehe!
J: AYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY
A: Brilliant! I need a beer. Donde esta el cerveca? Or is that la cerveca?
J: LA CERVECA IS MAS FINA
A: Si. I've let you drink too much Corona....
J: :-)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
And for Tracey (and everyone else too), the Rock Climbing Baby:





--The Milk Maid is 100% Positive that she's a Negative Nelly

Ava and Food

At her 9 month check up Ava's doc told us this: Whatever she will eat, feed her!

Now, before I go into detail I am sure someone has one of these- "??" - over their head looking confused and thinking "what about allergies?". This doctor has 5 children. All of whom were fed eggs and peanut butter and everything else in the world that is now bad for children under 1 year of age. The doc explained that most stage 2 baby food has egg in it (I read the label and it's there) and they also have had exposure to the dreaded nut somewhere along the line through something processed on or near the same equipment. Her advice was to start slow, give her a bite or two of whatever, wait a few days, and go from there.

To skip through our many trials and errors, none of which resulted in the need of an epi-pen, I will tell you what Ava ate for breakfast this morning: Scrambled eggs, chicken, biscuit, gravy, hash browns. Oh and Jef taught her how to use a straw, she she slurped up a sip of diet coke too. She was pissed when I wouldn't let her have coffee... you have to be at least 3 in this house before you get coffee, mom's rule.

Of course Ava still eats baby food. She had 2 big jars of applesauce with cereal last nite. After a 1/4 of a pork chop. And a few mushrooms. She had a few bites of salad the night before that, although tomatoes must be an acquired taste.

Ava has the appetite of a champion weight lifter. Pound for pound, that's probably an understatement. I have never, ever, ever seen a kid (let alone a 9 month old) eat as much and enjoy it as Ava does.

The differences in my children amaze me: Faith was content to sip a bottle and watch TV for hours. Ava has scaled the stairs and learned how to rock climb the fireplace after eating almost as much as Jef eats in a meal these days (they split a plate for dinner, no lie!). Faith would eat breakfast sometimes, a small lunch, and a normal dinner, maybe a snack. Ava has a big breakfast, a mid-morning snack, lunch, dinner, and bedtime snack. Plus she's still nursing a LOT. She must have a hollow leg.

Of course as much as she eats, Ava will also run me in circles burning all those calories! She's like a ball of fire, my little comet, hurdling at me (or away from me) at the speed of sound! It's amazing to watch. And that's usually all I have the energy to do.

--The Milk Maid says cha cha cha!

Friday Mish Mash

Tis Friday the 13th... my lucky day! It just seems to run that way for me- I don't know why, and I don't question it! It's better that way.

I got scolded, but not for one of my usual stunts. This is for something I didn't do (other than laundry, dishes, etc). I didn't report to you my sexual adventure last Sunday on the couch. We had couch sex. It was marvelous. My dear sweet J will be so happy now. He felt it was truly blog-worthy.

And speaking of sex... We did have a little playtime last nite... one of those "lock the doors and run to the bedroom whilst the children sleep" adventures. We actually plotted out a plan of action- music, mood lighting, the works. Wow-the best I can recall that's what sex is like before kids!

I had every intention to come home from my morning errands and work on expanding the ol' specialty promotion biz that I run with dad. But as you can tell, I got sidetracked. I've developed a horrible work ethic as of late. There is so much time that I'm flat out busy with the kiddos, cooking special meals for Jef, doing all the mundane household chores that I am contractually obligated to do as a wife, and then everything else that pops up that "Only I Can Accomplish This Task!", that when it comes to actually being productive in the business I have 1% to give. Sure, I could schedule an hour every day to blahblahblah. It makes me nauseated to think of that kind of regime in my life. Sigh! Maybe I can just train Jim to do it all!

I was driving to the water park Wednesday (in the rain*, duh!) and looked down towards the crap holder (map pocket) in the driver's door and there was Ronny's driver's license. Jef's sis had given it to him as a memento (oh the odd things we do). I picked it up while waiting at a traffic light and looked at it. I almost started crying. It's so weird to see "Uncle Hippy". If he shaved his beard he'd look just like Jef. In fact, when we were cleaning up around his house Jef scared the crap out of one of the neighbor ladies. She said, "I thought you were Ronny!"

It just doesn't get any easier, does it?

*Dad's mantra "We're getting wet anyway!"

I can't leave on that depressing of a note, so here's something slightly amusing I wrote a few years ago during one of my many allergy attacks:

My Ode To Hives, October 2001-

"Burning Desire"

Hives, hives
Makes me itchy.
Scratching, squirmy,
Getting bitchy.
How I hate them,
How they whelp-
Benadryl doesn't even help!
Itchy, scratchy, burning mess-
It'll go away in time... I guess.

--The Milk Maid needs a milk bath

Take Off A Few More Years...

...Of my life that is. Ava decided to scare the crap out of me this morning:

I was taking my rings off beside my night stand in preparation for going to the water park today. I sat Ava on the bed, slid my wedding rings off, held her onesie with my left hand while placing the rings on the table.

The easiest mental image I can give you of how she jumped off my bed (and out of my grasp) is that she looked like a flying squirrel. Flat out, belly flop style flying leap of faith. "I had my hand on her!" I kept saying to myself, as she seamed to float gracefully through the air. And plop! I expected the worst. She'd managed to face plant into a pillow. A perfect 10 point landing. I froze- she's usually pretty tough so I didn't want to scare her into a crying fit.

She sat up and looked at me... and then said, "Hey!".

Then Jim Morrison Said....

I occasionally talk to myself. By occasionally I mean half of my day is spent doing an inner monologue. And just to keep it interesting I have given those voices in my head voices other than mine.

Now before you call the men in little white coats, hear me out!

I am an only child whose parents lived to be condescending to each other. If they spoke to each other, it was not civil, and I preferred not to be caught up in the fallout. So I spent a lot of time in my room all by myself as a kid. I had the menagerie of imaginary friends, those friends developed personalities and well, you get it.

Now as a 28 year old mother of two, I still let those inner voices speak to me. Perhaps this doesn't sound normal (or healthy for that matter), but I am always in control of the voices and they never tell me to gather sub-machine guns, barrels of water, and find the Chosen One. It's a fun little outlet. It's my way of escaping daily life while still being a responsible adult. Some people knit, some people jog. I verbally joust with Jim Morrison (from the band The Doors). It keeps me sharp (he's almost as snarky as I am).

For those of you who already thought I was swimming briskly in the deep end of the crazy pool, I probably didn't help myself any here. But I don't care. We all have quirks and things we do to keep us functioning. It could be worse- I could be a Republican.

--The Milk Maid says break on thru to the other side!

The Sign

I was driving up the road a few hours ago on my usual Monday trip to the garbage dump and to the grocery store when I passed our local produce store. It's very quaint, very small town, but usually very busy. Mr. Kelso's store (as Faith calls it) has a nice big sign at the entrance complete with arrow and blinkie lights that point the way.

Today the sign read:

Gallon Milk $2.99
Apples $1.99/lb.
Lemons 3/$1
Great Melons!

Of course the more I thought about Great Melons the funnier it got. So I drove around town singing Great Melons to the tune of the Hot Pockets jingle. I sent Jef a text telling him about the Great Melons. He replied saying "We must own a sign like this!"

Just for the hell of it (I've been known to do such a thing) I googled "Great Melons". There were 3,700 responses, most of which was not about produce. Who knew?!

--The Milk Maid's melon patch is in a secret location near Peru

Friday Mish-Mash, Like Clockwork

The blog-mobile has been slow to crank this week. I've had lots to say, rest assured! I just haven't been good at getting it all in order long enough to compile it here. Where do I start?

4th of July: Finished the swing set. Any object that requires "2 moderately skilled men over 3 days to finish" is much to large a project for my father to do by himself. But you can't tell him that, oh no. HD doesn't listen. Hence my reason for helping. That and I love a good project. I need to occasionally whack things with a sledge hammer and use an impact wrench to keep my mind flowing free and clear.

Later that afternoon, Jef's dad came to visit and we did the cookout thing. I allowed Jef one hot dog (do you KNOW how much sodium is in a hot dog? Don't look, it takes all the fun out of it!) and made jalapeno turkey burgers and real hamburgers and grilled them up. Paige also showed up. Paige is Jef's 21 year old who usually shows up if there is food or money involved. She leaves for Argentina Monday.

The Paige Rant: 4 years ago Paige went to a Bible College in Buenos Aires for a few years, brought home a guy pal (aka Assface) who's parents are missionaries, he and Paige moved in with us for 3 months, we kicked them out when we found the nice, upstanding young Christian man looking at PORN on my then 7 year olds computer, Paige dumps Assface, and has now decided to go back to Argentina to teach for 6 months. She is paying to go teach. Did you hear that? She is PAYING to go teach. WTF? Whatever makes you happy, dear.

Moving on... I must make a confession. I have yet to make it to karate. The 1st time I wanted to go Jef got off work early, and I kinda forgot about going. Last week I was exhausted. Today well no promises, but maybe. I know I would feel better and blah blah, but I am in need of motivation (perhaps I will look at myself naked in the mirror for a little while!).

Faith found $1.50 in the payphone outside of Wally World yesterday. Then the little goob won a huge Superman from one of those claw games with that money. Too bad she isn't old enough to purchase lotto tickets!

A few pictures:
My dad, aka "HD"


Happy, and not so happy Ava


Ava and her "dada"

Big J, screwing around!

4th Of July and Other Ramblings

Happy 4th Gang! Wow... this time last year I was pregnant and digging a hole in the sand for my belly to fit into so I could get sun on my backside on Daytona Beach. Jef, Faith, and I watched the space shuttle launch from the side of the road just south of Titusville. Life was good!

Now, I'm a freakin' construction foreman for my father and the swing set.

If you stand there for twenty minutes preaching about reading the directions and how when you do read them all will go smoothly... don't you think you should then actually READ the directions?? What the heck, dad! Thank god I was there, or the damn thing would be condemned. Here's a pic of the behemoth almost done:

Jef (now he's the "one with the hat") & HD (aka Dad) assembling the swing set.

And, for B&K, here's the link to the hamhock incident. Not quite as funny as your last posting, but a must read.

Ava has a new nickname: Scooby-Boobie-Doo. It's all about the boobie-snacks for this kid. She has learned to lift my shirt up and self-serve at the dairy bar. She has also become a very, very rough nurser (well, more than she was to begin with). I constantly have bruises and claw marks on my boobs, chest, and stomach (and arms and legs and...). She also bounces like she's on a pogo stick while fully latched onto me! I cannot explain the sensation of this any better than running a marathon without a sports bra.

My mother after watching all of Ava's aforementioned antics said, "Well I guess you are about ready to wean her and give her formula from now on!"

I told her in my usual monotone style, "Not a chance in hell mother! I'm in this for the long haul!"

My goodness, I've invested nearly 10 months into breastfeeding. I've endured blood blistered purple nurples, leaky boobs, the arcane nursing bra, porn star sized boobs, and cluster feedings for days at a time. Why would I quit now because of a little bruising and a few scratches?

--The Milk Maid says I'm much to dainty for construction. No- really!

Noah Followed The Instructions...

...My dad doesn't. That is why it has taken weeks to build Faith's new swing set. That is why I am missing in action today gang!

I will update you on all the gobbeldy-goop swing set hoo-haa bonanza you can take as soon as I can make this crazy old man take a break!

:-)

Aradia The Ninja

This is me and all my cat-like Ninja glory!

(You will never get this song out of your head!!!)

--The Milk-Maid says flip out (and props to rathergood.com)!

Another Friday Mish-Mash

I love Friday Mish-Mash! It's gonna be a permanent theme for me now!

After reading K's blog I got to thinking... How do you begin to explain the feeling of the end result to someone while they are TTC and having a rough time? If someone had told me, "It's worth every ounce of pain, every moment of suffering, and every dime that it costs, and you will look back and agree that if it'd been 10 times worse it'd still be a bargain for what you get!" I would have called that person a crazy bitch. I'm not really making a specific point here, just kinda jabbering through it all in my mind. It's like having a long running inside joke with a friend and then trying to explain it to someone else. If there is a point to this, it's keep your chins up girls!

And speaking of TTC.... I have nothing to report. Hahaha! I'm crazy!

Last nite (after Ava went to sleep and Faith went to my parent's house for the night) Jef and I sat on the couch, enjoyed a glass of wine* and listened to music for hours. I was the dj so I started us off with The Eagles then Boston, The Who (say it with me: Roger Daltrey is HOT), Jimmy Buffet, Queen, and then the Moulin Rouge soundtrack. We laughed, we talked, we did some air-banding and a little dancing! This morning there were clothes tossed all around the living room. Like people just suddenly got hot or something. There was a bra on the lamp, pants were inside out. I dunno what happened!

*I enjoyed wine, he enjoyed vodka, but it sounds more romantic for us to be having wine so envision that!

For those who have asked (Meg & Kris) the Jeep is a 1979 CJ7 with a CJ5 top (Ronny shortened it). So now it's a Jeep Truck (jruck as Jef says). Here's a few pics:



Here's Jef as a teen... when he had hair! Bald = low maintenance. I like!!

My words of wisdom for the day:
Never sneeze on your camera lens.

--The Moulin Rouge Milk Maid says "Voulez vous coucher avec moi, ce soir"

In With The New!

Does it look a little different in the Milk Maid's world? Did you think to yourself, "Holy Crap! Where am I?". Not to fear... I just got the itch to rearrange.


I am not blogging right now. No, you see words and you know I must have typed them sometime, but it's all a trick. I am really cleaning out a closet and putting in a new shelf right now. At least that's what I should be doing. The stuff from the closet is out and the new shelf is in. And since there is a computer in the room where I am working on the closet project, well I got distracted. Shhh- don't tell.


Nothing much new today. I still have the cold. My mouth is itchy today which totally weirds me out. I think it's from all the nice sinus drainage.


I'm going to have to buy my trophy husband (yes you are!) some new pants. It seems when you go on a diet and actually eat GOOD stuff all the time then your pants will fall off. I am in no danger of that happening to me any time soon.


Jef and I helped his brother buy a 1979 Jeep somethingerother about 4 years ago. After Ronny passed away Jef asked his sister and dad if he could have it back. So, in our drive is the ol Jeep-Jeep! Yay!! And with Ronny being Ronny, it's jacked up, got stiff shocks, no a/c. It needs a few things to get it to where he wanted it to be and we're gonna fix it up like he would have wanted. We're choosing paint colors now, looking for mirrors, all that jazz. Jef has driven it the past few days. I keep telling him how hot he looks driving that thing. And not because of lack of a/c.


Speaking of a/c... Supermom did you ever get any coolness?!


And Sassy T... you must be one busy little bee. I haven't seen you buzzing around lately! Miss ya chickie. I know, email works both ways right?!


To the rest of my gang member homies... My return to karate class will be tomorrow nite. Wish me luck. It's hard to beat someone to a bloody pulp when you are so sore you can't move.


B- Working on that nickname!



--The Milk Maid is buy one, get one free today

"It's too early for me to be here..." **UPDATED**

Ava awoke this morning no less than chipper. I slid out of bed like Jurassic period sludge, made Jef lunch, and this is where I landed. Still have the cold/sinus infection deal going on. I'm not in the mood to make coffee. And my father and Faith want to drag me to the water park later on! Jeez.

The memorial went well- you know, for a funeral! I got up, did my eulogy that I finished as we were walking out the door, didn't trip in my 3 inch heels, and only one person saw my boobs (my niece). I was breastfeeding at that moment (who had their mind in the gutter?!). To make it even, I got to see hers too... she was also bf-ing. My niece is 34. Her dh, "lil Chuckie" is Jef's sister's little boy. My 35 year old, 6'4 nephew who is currently working with an undisclosed Department of Defense organization.

I also got to hear the million dollar question... I was walking past Mike (BIL) and someone asked him, "Oh, is that your daughter?". He didn't even crack a smile and said, "No, that's Jef's trophy wife!".
------------------
Ok, to sum up:

We went to the water park... it wasn't too bad. Ava napped under an umbrella for 1 and a half hours- which is 3 times her usual nap here! I was under the same umbrella, kicked back and relaxed. Plus, dad bought me a shaved ice. He knows how easily the beast is tamed with food.

As far as the Trophy Wife comment: That's just so unbelievably funny to me and my head got like THHHHAAAAT big. First, just because I'm 19 years younger than my hubster does not make me any kind of trophy. I came with a payment book... and a no return policy from my parents (dad seriously told Jef that!). And although I consider myself tolerable to look at on most days, and semi-cute yet chubby on others, I don't fall into my own definition of a trophy wife (and that would be huge store bought boobs, tiny and waif-like figure, model perfect highlighted hair, and she would probably shave her legs more than once a week too. And not belch. Or fart. Or squirt breast milk at her husband while he is on the toilet. )

I am just an extremely lucky gal who found an older but equally lucky guy and we fell in love and touch ta-tas on occasion. I wont even comment on how RARE an occasion that is these days. Oops! Blew that one. Oh- bad phrasing. Stop it. Out of control! Arrrgh!

(Meg, you are totally a trophy wife... Kris too- heck you know what I nicknamed you girls!

--The Milk Maid squirts innocent bystanders for fun!

Toooze-day

This is an example of what my family might order at the local coffee house:

Faith: Double Mocha Chocolate Chip Frappuchino with Extra Whipped Cream
Ava: Cafe Latte (with breast milk of course)
Jef: Irish Coffee minus the coffee, double the whiskey
Me: Quadruple Espresso with heavy foam and a side of zoloft

----------------
To catch everyone up, today is the memorial for Ronny. I still haven't written the eulogy- that's what I am warming up my brain for now. I wrote 2 paragraphs the other day, but I tossed it. Of all times for that perfectionist in me to rear her ugly head, why now?! I know everything I want to say, but the words just aren't going down on paper for me.

I've been thinking a lot about my own mortality lately. I've decided this: I want to be cremated and then have my kids go on wild adventures to sprinkle bits and pieces of ashes everywhere. I can imagine the will reading now:

"Faith, you are to go to Machu Picchu, find a pack llama named Flaca, lead the llama to the far west corner and sprinkle your mother's ashes as the wind blows at 2.6 mph...

"Ava, your penance for saying dada, hey, bye, and a few other words before saying mama is to take these ashes to the Pacific Northwest, find a Sasquatch, and...."

Today

I have had intermittent internet all day. I haven't finished the eulogy. I am getting a cold. My jaw hurts. Aunt Flo came. I feel fat, tired, cranky, sad, and ready to barf.

Yeah- it's Monday alright!

(At least I'm a ninja pirate mobster gang member!)

Reunion Rundown

The reunion went better than anticipated... I got most everything done in time, and just said "forget about it" to the remainder of the general crap. I drank a good amount of beer, but didn't get waisted. I climbed right up on stage and presented awards, had everyone laughing, and still managed to fit my ego through the door when we left.

And once we left we were going strait to pick Ava up from my parent's house, but we made a slight detour to the bar around the corner and listened to Jef's bro-in-law's band play a few songs. We stood around with his sister and chatted up various people we knew for a while, then hit the road home.

I didn't have to smote anyone, I only once had to politely remind one person that my eyes were about a foot and a half higher than where he was staring, everyone was friendly, and life went well for the nite! I know, how unlike me to have something go well for a change.


Here are the pics, complete with new hair and dress, as promised (these are post-party... we forgot to do pre-party, but I will have pics soon from the beginning of the reunion where I don't look so sleepy):

Friday Mish-Mash #3 **UPDATED**

My To Do List:
* Means Completed

*1. Buy dress that doesn't show my muffin-top stomach or make my ass look like cottage cheese that is both reunion and memorial service appropriate.
*2. Get hair cut and styled so you don't freak out tomorrow over that thick, course, unruly mop you call hair before reunion.
3. Finish last minute reunion details.
4. Write eulogy for Ronny.
*5. Yell at old crazy lady with rollers in her hair that is driving slowly in front of you.
*6. Save neighborhood from what you believed at the time was a rabid chipmunk that later turned out to be a paper sack.

I am not sure if any of you have ever noticed, but I like to write and create. So, naturally I volunteered to say a little something about Ronny at his memorial service. And now, wouldn't you know it, I have eulogy writer's block. Where did my Muse go? I had a glass (or 3) of wine last nite after Ava went to bed and was spouting poetry sandwiched between a soliloquy and a haiku for the man. Now... zilch. I really should record my drunken ramblings. I could write that book I've been putting off in no time!
-------------------------
10pm...

Started euology for Ronny, have 2 paragraphs written. As far as a eulogy goes, it's humorus.

Had dinner with the reunion-gang. Still putting off last minute details for the last minute.

Like my new hair so far. I have been listening to The Who a lot and picturing myself as the long lost female band member.

Been thinking about sex A LOT. Not news. Just thought I'd share. It's been weeks. Torture. Madness. Insanity.

I envy B for getting 23 responses to her next to last blog. Even though I was responsible for most of them, I still have a certain amount of jealousy.

So who the hell IS the clown-ish one?

Been thinking about the "mean gang". Want to make a spread sheet of our strategic maneuvers. It's anal, but it's fun.

That is the only context in which I shall use the above referenced sentence.

I Just Had To Share

This is my fun project for the reunion for the day. We got a questionnaire from a bachelor who was determined to stay that way... his answer for for "Married Y/N" was "HELL NO".

A trip to the Dollar Store for air freshener and some crazy ideas later here's the prize for the "Hell No To Marriage" Award:


Incase you can't see it the label reads:
A Delightful New Product From JK Labs, Wife-Away Spray- For the Unmarried Man Who Wishes To Stay That Way! “A Spray A Day Will Keep Women Away”. Bachelor Tested, Grumpy Old Man Approved. Warning: Not for use on livestock. Do not attempt to have sex with women for 69 hours after using this product. For external use only– I don’t care how horny you are!

Just Give Me Another Week...

... And jam that other week in between now and Saturday night! There is a wad to do for the reunion, and that saying "time is of the essence" is blaring in my head like a static-filled radio signal. I am not a procrastinator, usually. I am not behind now... It's just know that I must rely on 4 other people to help me pull this off-- The 2 Out of Towners, The Heavily Pregnant Chick, and the Ditsy Blonde-- that makes me worry. Just a little. Hey, at least if it doesn't go well I don't have to see these dipshits for 10 more years- if then!

I don't have a clue why this reunion has become all important to me. In high school I wasn't a jock, but I was a top notch athlete. I was a nerd, but I wasn't walking around with my glasses taped together and a pocket protector. I wasn't cool, but I was well known. I was very shy. I know THAT is hard to believe, but I was dreadfully shy. A bad marriage and terrible divorce will bring out the self-confidence though. I really guess I just have something to prove to these people. I know these people care less if I am well-adjusted (I'm laughing too!), confident, happy, and a lot cooler than they are. But, I guess I need to see it all for myself.

On a different note (middle C perhaps? Hummm!)... I am going to start back to karate. Apparently, I am craving getting my buttocks beaten to a pulp. I really need to get back into shape so I can get preggo again and totally destroy all my hard work for a third time. Oh well, it's a decent trade. At least I wasn't as sore after giving birth as I was after my very 1st karate class. Yes, I am being 100% serious!

On a sad note, Jef's brother passed away rather unexpectedly yesterday. He was 50-ish, and it was totally unforeseen. We are waiting for them to do the autopsy so that perhaps we can understand the mystery of why a decently healthy man just falls over dead. We love you Ronny, aka Uncle Hippy!

Slide Shows

Ava is actually sleeping today, so I'm catching up on all kinds of projects!

Here are two slide shows for your viewing pleasure. One is Father's Day with Big J and Ava and the other is from my cousin's visit last week! Enjoy~

9 In, 9 Out

Ava is a big 9 months old today! We have a doctor appointment for her in a couple hours, so you know I will update with stats upon our return!

**UPDATE**
Ava weighs 18 lbs. 6 oz. and is 29" long! The doctor came in and the first words out of her mouth were, "look at that little ball of fire!".

They say it takes 9 months to gain the weight during pregnancy and 9 months to lose the weight afterwards... But since it took me 9 to lose, it's only fitting that I have gained every single darn pound back as of this morning. Isn't that just poetic.

Faith made one of her great one-liners yesterday and I must share. She had left the house with a plastic bottle of lemon flavored water and as we drove to one of many errands yesterday she said, "Things look different through the bottle". A pretty innocuous statement until you put it into adult terms and think about how the world looks when you are a little tipsy.

The class reunion is Saturday. It's all screwed up. It's so bad, I can't even write about it without having brain pain. Let me put it this way: You have a budget for a reason. And, the people I went to school with could not kick their way out of a wet paper sack. Thank goodness I am helping these morons. I may be getting a god complex from this... as long as they recognize me for the supreme being that I am, I will not have to smote any of them.

To Clarify

The condoms are for my 10 year class reunion. We're giving gag gifts and for the person with the most children we are awarding a very colorful variety of condoms! The winner of the most recently married award gets KY.

The opks... well, they were on clearance, still have a great expiration date, and well- You just never know when the overwhelming urge to pee on something will overtake you! And, yeah the "how about another baby" discussion has gone from if to when... at least during daylight hours. Ask me that question at 3am after Ava has been doing the boob-buffet for the past hour and you might get a totally different response!

Of course there are still a few things to work out before we are ready to get down to business and make a complete triplicate of yours truly (haha). Ava's not quite one, Jef has a checkup for his kidneys in early August, I am out of prenatals and am waiting for an appointment for that. Of course there are a few peeps out there who are doin' the IVF boogie that need to get preggo ahead of me. Yeah- like I said it's nothing imminent, just on the books for sometime before 2010.

We Gone, Killah!

Yes-they are GONE. Thank goodness... I was at wit's end. I really love my cousin Jodi dearly, but 3 constant days of anyone is enough I say! Whew- I made it!

I do have some really great pics of Jodi and the girls... I will get to those maybe tomorrow or so. We went to the Cracker Barrel this morning, and they ate like birds. A pancake each and a few strips of bacon split between them. Oh beetoches pleeze! I ate 2 eggs, 2 strips of bacon, grits, and 2 biscuits. And 3 cups of coffee. I was wired for sound. I didn't eat lunch though- so really I guess I did ok.

And no, I bypassed the urge to lock them in the pool house. Even when all 5'7, 109 lbs of Jodi bitched about her FAT. :::Sound of Aradia's head banging against a concrete wall:::

Jef doesn't have to work tomorrow- YAY! And Father's day is Sunday. Paige- his other spawn that only shows up for money or food- will be visiting us Sunday. She hasn't been down in months and will be leaving for Argentina soon. Not soon enough. She treats Jef like crap... unless the wallet is open or there is a smorgasbord at hand. She's 21... shouldn't she be getting a life already? Oh did I hear bitter Aradia scratching at the surface of life again?

As I understand it, some of you miss the snarky Aradia (fab-u-luss word, yo?). Ok, sure some of you are like "Where is that nice lil Aradia we all know and love?". Those peeps haven't spoken up loud enough- haha! So the evil bitch-shoe wearing gal the rest of you hunger for (perhaps an over-statement) is here in the flesh just for your enjoyment. Ok, ok- B, you especially get your mind out of the gutter. Just a mere saying, not a realistic description.

So, what does the evil bitch-shoes wearing A do on a Friday nite once the baby is asleep and Faith is at the other "parent's" home?... I type a blog. Because Jef is ASLEEP. And there is no chance of SEX... unless I go make friends with the shower massager or some battery operated toy. Sigh--

Sleep with that image. I'm going to!

--The Milk Maid bought condoms AND opks today. Darn that reunion!

What Day Is This?

I feel like I am in some kind of a gosh-awful time warp where nothing is quite as it seems. The days have blended together into one large brown blob. Welcome to the "your family has been here too long" zone.


I like Jodi and Laken, really I do. Mostly because I only see them once a year for a day or two at a time. This is day 3 (me thinks!) and last night was my breaking point. The usual family stuff... nothing wild or crazy or anything really worth mentioning. I'm just ready to have my routine back, ya know.

I've been catching up bit by bit on blogs today... It's been tuff considering I have to sneak away from the pool to read them. All they wanna do is eat junk and lay by the pool. If I weighed 109 lbs and had the metabolism of a 3 year old then I'd be all for it. But, for me, simply by being near junk food I am bloating like a frog.

Perhaps tomorrow, when they are long gone, I can come up with something more quippy and snarky to write about. Until then, I'm going to ignore that Kirsty Alley-like voice telling me to call Jenny Craig and then stuff scrawny Jodi and her spawn in the pool house.

Gobbeldy Goop Tuesday

From MSN's Daily Horoscope:

"You need to cut down on stress and stop getting all upset over nothing, dear Capricorn! Even if, up until now, you haven't been able to figure out what is really bothering you, today you will understand some of the mysteries of your personality, and understand what it is exactly that causes those chronic mood swings of yours. You'll see that you have nothing to worry about!"


Just way too accurate there, peeps. If I could understand ANY of the mysteries of my personality it would be one of those light-on over the head moments, complete with choir accompaniment. Maybe I understand those mysteries, I just don't accept them. Humm, fatal flaws be damned here we go a bloggin...


Can I just say B&K crack me up! You girls- whew! I can totally see us having zany, comicbook-like adventures and taking over the world. At least that's the grand image I have replaced the sperm-tub with! And THAT whole scene would be a wonderful horror movie plot-- "You have SPERM!", she gasped as she vaulted her nakedness from the evil vat of man-juice. Of course the title would be Horns, Bitch Shoes, and Sperm (thanks becca!).


Ok, since it was somewhat requested (that'd be you B) here is just how dirty my little mind is (just a glimpse, really!):


I constantly think about sex. I swear, my brain must be hardwired for having a penis. If I have a moment to think that isn't about breathing, kids, or general safety, then I am thinking about sex. Jef knows and understands this. He is totally immune to me grabing his butt or other places just because I cannot control myself. He gets boobs shaken his way about twice a day on average and he's like "(YAWN) yay, boobs". Now, physical actions aside anyone is fair game for the playingfield of my inner psyche. Hey, come back here!! I'm not getting all cyber-wankie with y'all. You girls are like sisters, and I definately draw the line at incest. Unless I had a really hot twin...


See- I can't control myself. I don't hump strangers legs in public, but I might have a brilliant flash of "Oooh I would sure love to..." and then it's all back to "Hello Mr. Grocery Store Cashier". It's kind of fun really... Jef has made it into a game. He will say "What about that person?" and point and I tell him some really nasty 2 sentence fantasy.


Ok- get out of my head! That's as far as we are traveling today my dearies.


--Milk Maid saves money on showers by only using cold water

People with worse accents than MINE!

For the few of you who have been blessed with hearing my southern drawl and thought, "Yep, that's about as southern as it gets for an accent!" I am about to prove you wrong. My cousin Jodi and her daughter Laken (see, Aradia is a perfectly normal name in my family) are coming down for a little visit from the backwoods of North Carolina. Let's just say, they have a very peculiar accent.

It hasn't rained here in forever (12 inch deficit!), but as soon as they finalize plans to "come a schwemmin" it's going to thunderstorm every day this week. I'm sure that's karma for all the bitch-shoe wearing moments I've had lately.

It's been a week (month... year?) for this big ol' mountain of crazy to spew her molten cuckoo all over everyone. Mount Aradia erupted, people went running in fear for their mortal souls, and now that the dust cloud is settling perhaps we can resume normalcy. At least as close to normalcy as we had before.

The 10 year reunion is coming up. I'm excited but dreading it too. I don't want to see one particular person there- after she started trying to break into my house, stalked me, and 'steal' Jef away from me, well it's just gonna be awkward. Plus, I'm not stoked about leaving Ava with my mom for that long. My dad will be there too, and Ava will most likely snooze off by 8... but it's just a long time away from peewee. I'm a creature of habit and routine, and change just rocks my boat to the point of nausea. But you'd probably guessed that about me by now!

--milk maid says Mt. Aradia is dormant. for now.

Talkin 'Bout SEX!

Can someone tell me on what channel the infomercial for THIS is being shown?

I feel like I've missed out on some really important information here peeps. My goodness, a whole book devoted to sex techniques. Well, more than one book, seeing as this is the advanced technique book. I wonder... Do you have to take a test to graduate from beginner level to the advanced? Can you take a placement exam to skip the first book and move right into the hard to master positions? Where do I sign up to help do research for the 3rd installment?

The funny part is that I was looking for 'stripped screw removal' when I stumbled blindly into the hidden realms of As Seen on TV soft-porn.

Father's Day will be upon us soon, and if anyone can tear something up it's my dad. They make a tool that rebores the head of the screw so you can get it out without too much muss and fuss. So, being a good daughter (who doesn't want her crap torn up worse when dear old dad comes to help) I went internet shopping.

Did anyone else notice all the product recommendations at the bottom of the page? Dr. Ruth is promoting a very scary looking vibe*, Jenna is touting her hoo-hoo trimmer, there is a Jolie personal massager (not endorsed by Angelina, sorry!), and other various "happy time" products. That is until you get to the last 3 items: A Digi Draw, a Vinyl and Leather repair kit, and a Smart Spin food storage unit.

*Original wording of sentence was "Dr. Ruth is plugging her very scary looking vibe". Eewww!

Now, I can completely draw the logical conclusion that people who are into advanced sexual positions also need vinyl and leather repair. You are free to make your own mental picture of that one. Also, it's not a huge stretch that upon reading your advanced sexual position book or using any of the other wonderful little products they offer that you might free your muse and feel the need to draw something, hence the digi draw (new slogan: It frees the perverted artist in you!). The third item- the Smart Spin food containers- now that's a little harder for me to wrap my mind around. I own a set of these lovely containers, and I have never been compelled to use them in any manner inconsistent with their labeling. Perhaps I am missing some connection here. Oh- I get it... must be for dividing up the bucket of lube that Walgreens sells for easy use!

--Milk Maid says she frees the perverted artist in YOU!

More Friday Mish-Mash

I have eluded snarky comments thus far on my blog... but they may be coming. I recently read a post on "that site" that pissed me off- you know (most of you know) that site. Wink, wink, nudge! If you have NO clue what I'm talking about, you won't learn today, so go away.

Anyways, for all my pals that are left I will condense the happenings:

I bought something (7 of them) "out from under" someone who couldn't get their crap together long enough to purchase them for their own use. Now, they belittle and bemoan and be-bitch ME every freakin time I stumble across a post from them on that site (which I deleted from favorites today- y'all are here anyways!). So I made a little snarky comment below their post. Why...? Because my bitch shoes are on, sister (my favorite new accessories by the way)!!. So nanny-nanny booboo!

Ok, now that the above bidnez is squared away let's continue!

Many of you will notice that I am back on the net. Thank goodness too because my mom's house is less than pleasant- any time of year! I hooked DSL up all by myself (gotta earn that nerd score!). I was starting to have withdrawals... I do everything online. If I could cook supper online (other than ordering pizza!) I would.

I'm supposed to come up with a list of questions for Dr. Letz Biopsy as to WTH we will learn from said biopsy, his downtime (aka practice for 3rd child), and other crap. I can't really think of anything besides those except "Does you bank accept bits o' kidney for car payment? ".

I hate doctors. You can tell that from the previous paragraph and previous rants. I think they are all idiots. My reason for thinking this: They say they "don't know what in the world could have possible caused his kidneys to secrete this amount of creatinine". Google it Dr. Turd- just like I did. Uncontrolled blood pressure puts you at risk for kidney disease/failure. Combine that with a high powered blood pressure medicine given without prior testing of renal function and wha-laa... you got yourself a screwed up hubby.

I was supposed to be taking Faith to Clemson, SC for a horse show today. My dad practically begged me to let him take Faith, so I was like "POOF, be gone father!". The last thing I wanted to do was drive 2 hours to see my ex-husband. If anything, I'd prefer to drive 2 hours in entirely the opposite direction JUST to be farther away from him. This just in: I have just learned that my social butterfly Faith has made comfy in a $200k horse trailer with a new pal (my dad described* her as "Small Blonde Meg**") whose dad was Mayor around here. My ex seems to have scored some nice clientele. Keep those checks rollin' in bad boy!

*My father always describes people's features with names. My "tag" was always, "This is my daughter, the Moose!" because I have always had a large, athletic frame (that was later upholstered with baby fat).

** Small Blonde Meg reminds me that now I do the same thing- kind of. When I chat with Jef about you gals I always have a description after your name for the inevitable clueless look he gives me.

Ok, last but not least a photo:



Before we were dating, at a real estate bash. I thought he looked hot in a tux, plus he kept touching my bare back... too sexy! Later, after we got married he said something like, "I thought you were tremendously hot, but I was married! So I just touched your back for the heck of it all!"

Grrr!

Guess who cancelled his biopsy until he gets a chance to ask questions. And mentioned it to me well after the fact. Guess who is beating her head against the wall. Sure, I got what I wanted and what WE had discussed. But why the drama? I'm not into drama- that's why I was on the yearbook staff for 5 years (we had 8th grade in the high school- thanks overcrowding).

Faith had her friend "Cortennay" over. Much like her name, she's just too much for me to take. It makes my head hurt to remember all her likes and dislikes. I finally told her to "eat the pizza or starve, it makes no difference to me!". The final straw was when she threw a ball at Ava and bounced it off her head. She was taken home 30 minutes later.

My internet at home is down- we dont know why. I am at my mother's house. Her air is set on 86 degrees. It's 84 outside. I'm going back home before I have a heat stroke!

Where are my bitch shoes??... I got more floors to scuff!

--The Milk Maid needs refrigeration before she curdles.

I Hate Sofas

I hate them because I know when I'm sleeping on one I am in the doghouse for something. As was the case last nite...

Some of you know about Jef and His Kidneys. No, it's not a new oldies tribute band (god knows I wish!). He is having "issues" with creatinine levels- that's the condensed version of all the crap we've been going thru over the past month because of it.

At the last appointment one of his doctors told him he MUST have a biopsy of his kidneys. They know he doesn't have cancer, leukemia, 49 other different diseases or disorders... but they don't know WHY his creatinine levels are high. So, said doctor gets his panties in a wad and orders for a biopsy. Even though the OTHER doc at the same practice the same day at THE SAME F-IN TIME says no, that's way too invasive and it's too early in the game.

I thought WE had decided to wait for at least a few more weeks before hopping the biopsy train. Obviously, the conversation WE had was only taken to heart by ME since HE scheduled (rescheduled, actually) the biopsy. Which all this is fine- if he wants a huge needle shoved into his kidney so be it! But (and there's always a but) he didn't tell me until over a day later that he'd decided this. That's where I put my bitch shoes on and scuffed up the floor of contentment.

I pretty much just ignore people and don't make any unnecessary conversation when I fight. I'm the argument turtle for 2 reasons: I tend to break things I really like when I throw stuff, and it's a lot more effective to just be silent but deadly.

I really don't remember what set me off or set him off or what lead up to the whole deal, but I was already putting clothes on to go sleep on the couch and accidentally (yes, it really was an accident) whacked my wedding ring on the light switch and it made a huge thud. He made a comment that if I was going to bang things around blahblah, and I said I wasn't blahblah, and he said I'm gonna go sleep on the couch blahblah, and I said don't bother I'm already dressed (have you figured out we sleep in the buff yet?) and I walked out (no door slamming) and bedded down for the night. He was snoring by the time I got comfy.

Of course a little after 3am I am awaken by a very sorry hubby. I was too sleepy to apologise (I made apology-like noises) and he ushered me back to the bed where we snuggled up and slept for a few more hours.

The End- haha!

A Few Pics

Chaos Ensues
(L-R: Muffin, Ava, My Mudder, Gidget)


"No diaper, no diaper, no diaper!"


"That's mine Faith!"


Bit o' Baby Smackdown
(My Mudder lets Faith have a sippy at her house. Ava asserts her dominance over 'seestar')


Nice Perfume
(Buster the Weener & Prissy, Mother of all Gatos)


Murray's New Do
(He used to look so much bigger)


"Well no, there is nothing in my closet that fits anymore, thank you!"
(Sad but true, she's grown 3 inches and 2 sizes over the past year)


Ready to surf!
(Hang 10... as soon as we get that balance thing down)

Overheard--

Talking to Jef about Faith and her "father"...

Me: I swear to god she looks more and more like Scott every single day.
Me: And it makes me want to poke her in the eye.
Me: A lot!
Jef: HAHA
Jef: She messing around a lot today?
Me: Nah- she's not too bad. But she just has that "look" about her today... like she might wanna do something that might make me Crazy. Crazier. The Craziest I've Been Lately. No, she'd have to be really bad for that.
Jef: You're weird.
Me: Thank you... I work very hard at staying this way.

--Milk Maid's not gonna cry over spilt milk. She'll just make more!

Friday Mish-Mash

Here are some interesting things (I hope they interest you) I've seen, done, and thought about this week:

I started off the week wanting to believe in miracles. I finished up the week knowing they can happen, but not always when you want them to. There's no magic wand- still. I've said it a million times: things happen for a reason. I don't know the reason. I am adding this: I'm unsure that if it was possible to know the reason WHY for everything that I would want to have that knowledge.

That was way too deep for a first paragraph. It gets lighter from here folks...

I saw a goat pee in a sandbox. My goat, my sandbox. Faith wants to bring the goat inside now since it's apparently litter box trained. She didn't see it poop on the sidewalk.

Faith is the most quirky little girl I know. I used to know a little girl who made Faith look really bland and boring, but that little girl grew up to be a quirky woman.

Ava can climb stairs. Especially if the cat is at the top of the stairs.

The llama got a haircut, and now his man-bits are horribly exposed. They are also uneven. This bothers me beyond belief.

I love tweezers. I will sit happily all day long with good lighting and tweezers and pluck every unsightly hair I see off of Jef (or anyone else who will hold still).

Cats do not enjoy having stray hairs plucked.

One should never watch a rerun of CSI when Roger Daltrey is guest-starring AND drink wine at the same time. Roger makes you lose count of how many glasses you have imbibed (because you think he's HOT). Yes, he is old enough to be my grandfather. But he's hot! Or he was in the 70s. Regardless, don't drink and Daltrey. You will wake with a headache.

I cleaned out a cupboard yesterday and found about 200 pages of emails from when Jef and I started dating. We printed them all out and put them in a notebook. I'm going to clean more often if I can keep finding neeto stuff like that.

I have encountered a small dilemma this morning. If by chance we have another kiddo, and by chance it is a boy... then we have 2 names picked out (first and middle x 2). So I guess that means I'd better have twins, or that Jef buys me a really awesome animal to name the leftover name.

You say you want to know these names? I'll give you clues... first one is what Ava's name would have been if she was a boy. Second name is a combo of someones last name I just blogged about and a motorcycle racer's last name (he rides a Honda and has 2 brothers). If anyone can guess the second set of first and middle names then you get the glory of being right, and a special award! Jef, you can't play!

PS- I retook the nerd test. It was a 91 this time. Your nerdiness is: Supreme Nerd. Apply for a professorship at MIT now!!!