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All posts for the month September, 2014

Whale Tales cont.

Published September 30, 2014 by sarcasmica

As we approach the island on the ferry, I notice how dark it all is. The water, the island, all of it. Now we get to find our “cottage” in pitch black middle of the night.

Truthfully, I’m so tired right now I can’t even remember getting to it. I think we actually managed a straight shot from the dock to the spot. The party was just getting started because once we walked in to check the place out, we had to go back outside to completely understand what we were looking at! It was a bungalow of sorts with the entire front patio/yard area covered like a greenhouse. They had made it private with ivy and trellis work. This helped to hide the 5x5ft room that was The Cottage.

Y’all, there was a boat-esque small ladder up to the loft where the bed was. The loft-going wasn’t even an option. We HAD to get up there to get to our bed! Given that my feet are a women’s size 12 on a good day, this was going to be a very creative and persevering weekend. Less than half of my foot fit on each step after factoring the overlap between rungs. Given my recent diagnosis of tendonitis and bone spurs in one foot, I was less than thrilled at having to deal with this reality.

And it only got more fun after a few drinks and having to go down the ladder to get to the micro closet of a bathroom.

But it DID have a toilet and a shower. I was so jazzed I didn’t need to be vigilant to put the toilet lid down since there were no kids or dogs around. There was, however, a kleenex box positioned just above the commode. That sucker took a dive after pulling out the first tissue. Lid shut for the rest of the weekend.

So we unpacked what could fit in the loft beside the bed, and we made do. We went straight to sleep in the hopes we didn’t miss the boat for whale watching the next day.

Miraculously my husband and I both managed to sleep right up to the alarm. We were so happy about that we almost forgot about the death plunge down to the bathroom and shower.

After a hurried and rushed breakfast, we boarded our whale watching boat eager for the day to get started!

It was amazeballs. We had an awesome boat captain and his wife and another woman were our Naturalist Guides. They had binders of the pods and showed us the identifying marks, etc etc. No one was really listening. We just wanted to see some action. I felt like a boat of recent soldiers coming into port for the first time in years just jonesing for some action. Show us the WHALES!

They did! About 40 minutes out we found the first pod! Everyone is standing there with anticipation just hoping for a peek. A fin, a blowhole, a tail, didn’t matter. Just something! You could feel everyone leaning against the railing in complete absorption of the ocean’s surface. And then;

Blackberry

Blackberry

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And the whole boat gasps. This went on for about 40 minutes. Varying glimpses of spouts and fins and occasionally a tail. We were sharing the pod with about four other tour boats, so we all shifted and took turns. One thing was for certain. We had the BEST boat. The other suckers were packed in like sardines! I don’t know how the other boats didn’t capsize when there was a shift for everyone to go to one side to watch.

It was so magnificent, in fact, the closeted man making out with his girlfriend the whole time didn’t even wreck the experience for us. There were 2 kids running around the boat and even they did not diminish the awe and amazement. .. because they weren’t ours to manage!

At one point we hit the jackpot. We had been ‘watching’ for about an hour. My husband went back into the cabin and I stayed on the bow. To the left of the boat we saw a fin. It was maybe 50 yards away. The closest we had seen all day. The water was so clear we could see the orca go under the water and were able to follow it around the front of the boat and then he came up on the right for air. It was incredible!

That was followed up by a drive by of Stellar Sea Lions and a few bald eagles. All in all it was incredible and something I hope will never be forgotten. … if the mom brain doesn’t degenerate any more!

That night we had a romantic dinner at a place on the water. After trying to sit on the deck for twenty minutes, I decided I had had enough of the open air for a while. My husband and I were both sporting some very attractive forehead burns from a day on the water without sunscreen. We went inside and scarfed down our second meal of the day. Upon leaving the joint, we got a glimpse of a beautiful crescent moon above the hills. After taking this picture, an otter popped up by the shoreline! I couldn’t believe it. It was all I could do not to run down and try and lure him into my purse to take home.

IMG_2841 IMG_2842After dinner we decided to go for a walk around the town. We found a very romantic patio at the local Mexican restaurant. After waiting ten minutes to speak to the hostess, we began comparing ferry stories with another couple. While we were all waiting for a table, we heard their story of waiting from early morning and not catching a ferry until that same night. They waited 8 hours for their ferry. My husband and I decided to shut up about our complaints. This couple tried very gallantly to give us their table to which we declined.

We found our seat outside on the deck. At this point the sun had gone down and the whole patio was surrounded by gorgeous foliage and trees and white lights strung all about. We dived into our drinks and salsa and ordered THE most heavenly dessert I have ever wrapped my mouth around. It was a specialty and not actually on the menu. It was a sopapilla but not like any sopa I had ever had before. It was a triangle completely enclosed around vanilla ice cream. The whole thing dusted with cinnamon and sugar and a small jar of scrumptious melted chocolate to pour over it all.

It was a doughnut/churro/crepe all wrapped into one life-altering dessert. The pic does NOT do it justice.

IMG_2849After talking ourselves out of having another – afterall, it WAS my birthday – we asked for the check to find that couple we had spoken with actually picked up our tab and paid our bill.
?!?!

My husband was speechless at this, and nearly annoyed with how nice that gesture was. He didn’t quite know what to do other than go and thank them. He is still gobsmacked at how we could earn such niceties.

All in all, the very early morning we had following this incredible day was well worth it now that i’m home and unpacked and have had two nights in my own bed to recover 🙂 A great birthday was had by all!

A Whale of a Tale

Published September 29, 2014 by sarcasmica

Last weekend was my birthday. My husband wanted to know what I wanted and if I were an easy wife I would have just said “Jewelry”. But nooOOOOoo I had to go and declare that I wanted time and not things. Boy did I get it !!

I have always wanted to go whale watching. Deep deep down beneath the layers of fat and carbs I am an animal lover. Jane Goodall was my hero when I was a little kid. The woman that lived with and documented chimps. It was amazing to me that someone would go up into the wild (the African wilderness) and just be with these wild animals. Whale watching was something fancy grown ups did in Southern California, and it was just something I figured i’d never get to do. Once we moved up here to Washington, Groupon has nearly a constant list of varying tours. I decided for my birthday I wanted a trip with my husband to go whale watching.

To his credit he did not roll his eyes in front of me. He did not snort or sigh, either. The fact that this was all agreed upon last weekend did not daunt us. Once we started trying to find available reservations for an overnight hotel, then we got worried.

In the end, we found the seemingly one single spot still available and it required a 2 night minimum stay. Oh darn. Away on a romantic trip for one extra night? Can we do it? Can we possibly suck up the misery of being away from the children for two whole nights?!?!

Hell yes we can.

The fact that there was a ferry trip involved in this whole adventure did not intimidate me. Afterall, my mom and I had taken a ferry a couple of times at this point and it was never an issue. I assured my husband the ferry ride was included in the estimated time outputted by the map thingy. An hour and 18 minutes. He had a hard time with this, but seeing as how the whole trip was supposed to take 3.5 hours, he conceded.

He was given some advice by a co-worker to get to the dock early. We got to the dock at 6pm assuming we could make the 8:55 boat. “Oh my GAWD, three hours?! What are we going to do for THREE HOURS?!” he wondered. Little did we know, it would not be three hours.

We were told at 6pm that the 8:55 boat was sold out and the next available would be the 10:30 ferry. My husband contained his aneurism. He remained calm. He asked the attendant, “Is there somewhere we can walk to to get dinner or kill some time?” The attendant helpfully informed us there is a little “cafe” inside the terminal station.

We parked. We played on our phones and tablets. We joked about the crazy scenario. We got out of our car and walked.

We made it to the snack stand a.k.a. “cafe” and saw all the pre-made sandwiches were sold out. Except for the vegetarian selection…. and let’s face it, it would take a helluva lot longer than this wait to make that happen. My husband asked the cashier what our options were:  “We do have more sandwiches in the basement, but haven’t had a chance to make a run for them. Or we have hot dogs. … but they wont be ready for another 20 minutes.”

hmmm… having to choose which form your food poisoning and dark-thirty diahrrea will come from is not a great start to a romantic excursion.

We chose the hot dogs since we could at least watch them roasting on the little aluminum wiener spinner. We considered a cookie from behind the plexi glass, but the flies hiding among the raisins convinced us otherwise. We were already living dangerously with the dogs. She offered us a couple of snacks and we opted for the cinnamon roll which was in a closed container.

Here was our first romantic meal of the trip:

romantic ferry food

romantic ferry food

We kill another few hours and meander back to our car after canoodling under the orange glow of the terminal lights. 10:30 arrives and so does the ferry. We start up the car, eager to just move anywhere after so long waiting. We move three car lengths and everyone comes to a halt. After zero information given, and a cranky, late, irritable game of Telephone, we find out the 10:30 was over-booked and they had to add another ferry. A midnight ferry. Good news is it’s totally empty so we will all fit, and it will be a direct trip to the island.

O.M. eff. G. !

So from 6pm until 12 midnight we waited for a ferry. We boarded and didn’t get to the island until 1:30am.

The thing that kept us going in decent spirits was : At least we didn’t have the kids with us because let me tell you. We saw I don’t know how many poor bastards lugging their children up and down the rows of parked cars. Back and forth to the tiny (and at one point out of order) bathrooms and snack stand running on chips, fly-eaten cookies, and soda.

to be cont ….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At What Point?

Published September 23, 2014 by sarcasmica

At what point to I begin to change things? Hopefully this is it. Small changes, right? My last Costco run included a fat bunch of bananas – which I am allergic to – a big box of plums and a flat of pears. I actually have reached for fruit the past few days when i’ve wanted a snack.

Go me.

Hopefully it’s not too little too late. I’ve been on BP meds for a year now. I have yet to lose weight. In fact, i’ve gained about 5lbs since going on them.

I went to the foot doctor today. Yes, that’s right. I went to a podiatrist. I was by FAR the youngest whippersnapper in that joint aside from my daughter. I was the youngest patient. The fossils loved seeing my four year old, but the feeling was not moo-chal. Crypt-keepers knockin’ their dentures at her as they smile and coo are not top on her list of ‘likes’.

 

Not to bore you with details, but I’ve had some pain in one of my feet for the past … oh, i dunno… months. Like 6 months maybe? Nothing I was excited to go to a doctor for. I hadn’t done anything exciting like ski down a mountain or skateboard off a ramp. Nothing to warrant foot pain other than just being fat. And that’s not glamorous. Even if you like Bass and not Treble.

So the good doc pinched, poked, pulled and prodded my feet. Nada. No issue. He had me turn onto my stomach and .4 seconds later says, “Ok, let’s talk about it.” He took 2 Xrays and told me my spine is off by 2 inches (he was able to tell from me laying on my big belly??) and I have tendonitis in my foot. My tendon is pulling and adding pressure to my outer foot bone. … and oh yes, there’s a bone spur beginning on my heel. We tackled the tendonitis and he gave me a chart of stretches. I’d like to believe he thinks I’ll do them. I’d like to believe I will do them. I’m supposed to go back in 2 weeks for a recheck. I was so anxious about all of it, I forgot to ask about the bone spur. I looked it up when I got home – against better judgement, I know – and turns out it’s a common result of being overweight.

*sigh*

I’m tired, y’all. Tired of being a Big ‘un. Tired of being so big my feet are checking out on me. Oh yes, and my blood pressure was taken when I first got there and it was 154/101 … and i’m already on meds for that.

Just take me out to pasture and leave me at the buffet.

 

 

Please Remain Calm, Goddamnit!

Published September 22, 2014 by sarcasmica

Fall is in full swing here in the gorgeous Northwest. And by “full swing” I mean the spiders are all out and fully swinging on their webs. Spiders are possibly the one single thing I hate about this state. If they stayed normal California size, it wouldn’t be an issue. However, it’s like they all go through a Bruce Banner metamorphosis. They start off tolerable. They are varying stripes and sizes, but soon…. soon they become giant, leggy, hairy, menacing, disgusting intolerable nuisance that pop up anywhere and everywhere. Inside. Outside. Topside. Leftside. It’s not cute.

(insert pic of multitudes of webs and spiders here. you must imagine this picture, because i will NOT go searching images of spiders to steal create and insert here)

 

 

So today i’m driving home from the store with my insect-bipolar child. She loves bugs – from far far far away. And usually just the caterpillar/snail/slug variety. If the spider is small enough, she can deal. We have learned to co-habitate with daddy long legs, but if they are a certain size, the treaty is broken.

Anyway, i’m driving home with her in the back and as we turn onto our street, she begins SCREAMING. “SPIDER SPIDER SPIDER!!!!”

I swerve like a crazy person, and then mentally collect my shit. You see, she inherited her spider loathing from me, obviously. I begin chanting in my head, “Please be small. Please don’t crash. Please be small.” I manage to pull over semi-calm and put it in park.

She is still screeching. She is kicking at the passenger seat in front of her where it has started climbing up the headrest, no doubt to get away from the lunatic giant trying to kill it. I look over and have to squint to see the thing.

THANK GOD

 

I had just days prior found a big-assed black as night mini tarantula on the garage ceiling. That’s what I was picturing in my head as my daughter is climbing out of her skin and doing her best karate on this infinitesimal arachnid.

I calmly grab a paper towel which seem to be at every fingertip since school has started. I wad it up and squash the thing. Just to be sure there are no more near-accidents I break all moral code and toss it out the window.

I know. Sue me. Shoot me. It’s the granola state, afterall. I am imagining red lasers to point at my chest while helicopters release full-geared S.W.A.T. over my house.

In the end, we survived. My van survived. My child survived scaring the bejeezus out of me, but the spider, alas, did not. I am ashamed to say I felt a small bubble of glee rise in my chest as I was able to woman-up and kill one of the thousands of pests I will be living in fear of from now until next summer.

R.I.P. little dude.

Jack and Splinters

Published September 21, 2014 by sarcasmica

Sunday, bloody Sunday.

Today was a pretty decent day. My husband took our son for a long bike ride. The Kid’s first on his new mountain bike. For a first ride, he did just shy of 10 miles! My hubby says he never once had to get off the bike and shame-walk it like I did when I was getting used to the gears. ( please read that as if i am now very much a pro at gear shifting) *snort*

I even was able to put up a few Halloween decorations. It was great! … until it wasn’t. My daughter, free toed spirit that she is, was out front without shoes. We put up my holiday pride; my new Jack Skelington inflatable, when she got a splinter in her foot from standing on a rock. Head scratcher, eh? She limped all the way to her bath and showed me her foot in the tub. The thing was sticking out perfectly. Prime position to be easily tweezed right out of her skin. Easy Tweezy. Except that she was screaming bloody murder refusing to let me remove it. … screaming in the echo-y bathtub. In the acoustically-advanced bathroom. …. for twenty minutes straight.

My son, being the big helper that he is, was taunting her the whole time from the shower next to the tub, “Just take it out, mom!” “Ok, say goodbye to your blue blanket!” “I guess you don’t want blue blanket, then!”

(her most favorite, prized, better-than-a-paci, lovey, chewy, germ infested, stinky sucked on treasure)

“Thanks for the help, kid, but no thanks. Take your shower and be gone!”

After walking away, tagging in the husband, then coming back to help we managed to get the thing after grabbing and holding her while she hung head-down over the side of the bed hollering the whole time.

To say I have a raging headache is the understatement of the year.

The killer , though, was her little face after it was all over. She was delirious from the crying. She was exhausted from the effort. She was hysterical from being scared of the pain. She just sat on her floor and maniacally giggled and said, “It doesn’t hurt anymore!” With a wide-eyed disbelieving stare.

ohmygodimtheworstparentever

I picked her up and carried her downstairs to see the new inflated Jack all lit up (now that it’s dark out) and on the way down she says to me, “Mommy, i’m sorry for yelling at you.”

It took everything not to hug her and tell her to forget any of it happened. It was ridiculous to get so hysterical over a tiny, eensy, microscopic splinter (in truth, my husband couldn’t even see it) and it’s not ok to go into hysterics over refusing to let someone help her….. but on the other hand, it was heart breaking to watch her be so terrified and then instantly be apologetic and sincere about it.

Honestly, i’m not used to the quick turn around. My son would have been flipping me off and shutting doors in my face still if it were him.

Just another day in paradise!

Trying to Chug Along

Published September 16, 2014 by sarcasmica

So the god blessed school year has begun

This school year has thrown me slightly for a loop because my daughter is also now a student. A preschool kiddo. I’ve gone from occupying our home time with Pinteresty things, and sometimes TV things and DVR things and computer things to scheduling conflicts and juggling. And I only have 2. I imagine Siri was invented for moms with 3+ children.

Anyhoo, i’ve begun the mad dash for extra curricular sign ups. Holy Cheese, it’s complicated! It seems as if everything has been slated for either the only time my kid is in preschool, or two minutes after my son exits his school building. This will not make for a safe exit from the congested and sluggish school zone speed limit. I ride that 20mph on my speedometer like white on rice, baby. If I thought my van was a goldfish graveyard before, it’s about to get all pantry-crumb ish in my car now. All the immediate snacking and scarfing before the next activity will be dizzying.

But that’s ok, because they will be more well-rounded children because of all of it, right ??? RIGHT??? RIIIIIGHT???? I’m paying someone else to train my kids how to have fun in a safe environment.

So my daughter is signed up for gymnastics. I feel we failed to complete proper swim lessons, so screw it. Now we’re going for safe tumbling. i.e. learning how not to injure yourself should you fall or get tripped by your brother/on the playground/at school. “Tuck and roll!”

I can’t figure out if i’m more excited for her to have fun, or to go leotard shopping. My son was in gymnastics when he was 5 and i would marvel at the shellacked ponytails in the other classes. Now I guess I need to find the secret. My daughter is a fly-away wispy haired child, so perhaps we will just do ponys and buns all over her head.

My son is signed up for Lego camp after school. This should be interesting. The last time we tried this, the harried volunteer instructor would meet me at pick up every time and relay the antics to me with an exhausted and beaten down aura about him. I’m hoping 3rd grade has matured my son a bit, or maybe I should just sneak the instructor a gift card for the local liquor mart and we can all pretend like it’s smooth sailing.

We’ve managed two weeks of school without homework. That all ended yesterday. Mondays are a bit brutal for my son because immediately following school, I speed carefully obey all traffic laws and hightail it out of there to make it to physical and occupational therapy exactly 30 minutes away. We get home three hours later in time to eat the crockpot meal I threw together, brush teeth, squeeze in fifteen minutes of legos/fighting with sister, and then bedtime. There is no time on Mondays for homework, so we do it Tuesday morning. I’m looking at it as sleep training my elementary kid. You still want to wake up at the butt crack of dawn? Fine, here’s some homework. You need help? Oooooh, you want the cranky up-when-it’s-still-dark mommy monster to help you solve your multiplication problems? Godspeed, child.

I think we’re getting the hang of it. .. slowly but surely. You know what I am getting the hang of? Having 2.5hrs every other day to sit and stare at my quiet walls at home with nary a peep from another room, under my feet, the bathroom, or upstairs while i sip my hot coffee.  Just me and my kitty-litter-covered-poo-eating new dog with an entire mug of hot coffee!

 

 

I.O.U.

Published September 12, 2014 by sarcasmica

A short list of things my husband missed while away on business and why my husband needs to go Super Wife shopping when he gets back:

1. 3rd Grade started

2. 3 year old started pre school

3. 3 year old turned 4 (birthday gift shopping, cake making, party planning, preschool bday snack prep, wrapping, decorating)

4. 3rd grader continued the weekly Sunday ritual of losing his shit at bedtime

5. Shiny new 4 year old got two shots at the doctor

6. New dog continues to eat the litter-rolled cat turds

7. Me just being awesome

 

If I knew how to Haiku, I would have. I guess even my awesomeness has limits.

On second thought, this list also works for Why Mommy Needs a Drink(s) and Why the Bank Account Is Empty, Mommy Wants a Business Trip, Too! and Things Single Parents Also Deal With (I know, I know!)

Relating to the last list, the difference is that I have to deal with taking care of the husband’s crap on top of the other things and he’s not even here to nag him to bring me joy.

addendum: kid recently immunized then comes home and pukes multiple times after her brother is sent home from the neighbor’s house for fighting and then proceeds to scream and yell causing her to possibly get kicked in the head.

yes. i need to start drinking.

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