Lifes Magical Moments

All posts in the Lifes Magical Moments category

Plans and Paint

Published April 5, 2017 by sarcasmica

Current project: Figure out a design for the new house.

Current status: Clueless

I have done the unimaginable and hired a designer. I need help. I, apparently, am easily overwhelmed. Funny how this happens more and more the older you get. I guess my cup o’ shit is running close to full a lot because the minute someone hovers above it with a handful of more, I start twitching.

Not that this process is anywhere near “shit” status. It’s not. I am just out of my depth. I blame HGTV, Chip and Joanna, Pinterest, and life. I am no longer satisfied with garage sale furniture forced to function and ADD walls with one color over there, another color in the bathroom, and a totally separate color in the hall. It’s time to live like the grown up I’m pretending to be, and the government insists that I am.

BLEND, bitches, BLEND!

The beautiful house we bought has some color scheme issues. The entry is green, the living area is sand, and the kitchen and TV room is burnt orange.

Really…

And the home office is green and the guest room is burn-your-eyes-out blue, one bedroom is regurgitated yellow, another is pleasant boy blue, and the master ceiling – just the ceiling – is ocean sky blue.

 

….

I mean, seriously. The painter we met at the house was just like, “Huh?”

So we are de-patching and wholly unifying. We are gonna bring that space together, but in order to do that, I need a professional. A low-cost, fairly noob-ish designer. You know, one that is still driving around the Escape and not yet into the Mercedes.

I met her at the house and she helped me narrow down a color. It’s beautiful, I love it, but now I’m wondering how big the project is going to get. Not because she’s pushing, but because I just want to do this once.

We are trying to upscale the furniture a bit so we have to not only pick wall colors that match mantles and carpet and hardwoods, but also that lend to some creative furniture ideas and colors.

DELFT by sherwin-williams

This gets overwhelming quickly.

Is it happy hour yet?

 

Parrot Life

Published March 21, 2017 by sarcasmica

Birds were never in my plan. Animals, yes, birds specifically, notsomuch.

My “life plan” (chuckle chuckle chuckle) was to flounder in community college for a little while before sticking with the sign language interpreter program. Once I mastered that, I would go to Moorpark College in Simi Valley, CA and work as an interpreter while simultaneously studying in their exotic animal training and management program. In order to study in the program, you also have to work at the college zoo. The only block I had was how to get through all the bug stuff. I hate bugs. HATE. I can appreciate their role in an ecosystem and yes I understand how important they are blah blah blah, but handling them?! No.

Blech. I can’t.

Anyway, I got as far as my interpreter program. I didn’t even complete that. See, my step mother was the interpreter coordinator for the campus in addition to a teacher in the department. (That is how she and my dad met and later married) My last semester I had a class that is only offered once/year at only one time. I was at the end of my last semester in the three year program when my dad died. Being as how I was the only offspring of either side to help my stepmother make arrangements, get through the awful tragedy, and deal with the hurricane of tedium you have to deal with when a loved one dies, school suffered a bit. I still made it to my final roughly a week after the funeral… the funeral my teacher for the same class attended along with most of the department and all my past and present instructors.

Guess who failed the class? Yup. Moi. I wasn’t expecting a free pass, I wasn’t expecting an A, but can you really not help someone out in that scenario? Really?! Can you honestly not offer some kind of counseling on the side or advice? Just F, done, buh bye, sorry for your loss.

Anyway, I was bitter after this happened, naturally. I also was connected through my step mother with my first signing job in Irvine at a high school. I moved to Irvine and could not manage the 2 hour rush hour commute for the one hour class back in Torrance, either. I just let it go.

Anyway, that job and that city led me to Arizona and another job and then got married and had a kid and life and yada yada yada. Long story short, I never made it to Moorpark College.

In my early 20’s while still in school, a friend of mine was a manager at Petco. She offered me a job as a Bird Specialist and I’d be in charge of the department – ordering, feeding the babies, caring for the cages and animals, stocking, etc etc. I took it knowing any knowledge needed I’d have to research myself since they do not have any sort of extensive training for this. I loved it. It was sad – seeing the state they were delivered in from breeders – but it was also gratifying – being able to educate people on a pet. I was absolutely astounded at how many grown people have a fear of birds. Kids would readily go into the bird room while their parents stood outside shaking their heads and twitching at the thought of wings coming at their face. (a common fear, apparently)

Anyway, I suppose that’s where the seed was planted. Ironically twenty years later I’m working the other side of the pet industry. It’s exactly opposite, actually, right down to me volunteering and not getting paid to care for the birds that people could not for a million and eighteen reasons commit a lifetime to. It’s so rewarding that there’s about 65 volunteers that the sanctuary heavily relies on for feeding/cleaning/food prep/grooming. I’m always impressed with the volunteers that balance this work with a paying full time gig. There are students, retirees, unemployed (moi) but we all, I think, look forward to our time there helping out.

Everyone has their niche. Some people like the cage work; cleaning and feeding. Some people like the massive open flight area. Some like the rooms and some don’t even interact with the birds. They handle food only. My happy place is the room. I have one room where I’ve learned about 70% of the birds names and know them fairly well. I don’t handle many because, quite frankly, I’ve seen enough bites to not be excited by that happening. I’ve had only one bad bite that’s left a scar, but like most stories of bites it was my own fault. I took a bird out and she didn’t want to return to the room when I needed her to. Instead of getting a perch, I kept insisting she step up on my arm and after repeatedly pushing back with her beak, she finally gave me a good clear chomp. … then I got the perch. Duh.

Funny enough two of my favorite birds reside in rooms completely different than my favorite. I don’t hold it against them, though 🙂

Anyway, I don’t know if I’ll ever get to fulfill my wish of actually working and interacting with wild exotic animals for a job, but truthfully my kids and these crazy parrots seem to be filling my heart. So while I figure it out, I’ll just keep taking pictures and hope people enjoy them.

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Merlot

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Coco

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Sugar

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Zephyr

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Junior (i think)

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Willy

 

Decisions Decisions

Published March 5, 2017 by sarcasmica

Being a grown up is hard. Throwing kids into the mix is even harder.  You cant just make a decision, you have to beat every possible outcome into the ground.

We have been looking at the possibility of moving. Currently we have a wonderful traditional house. There’s a massive blacktop driveway, there’s a huge grassy backyard. Summers are chalk race track creations and variations and neighborhood kids running from yard to yard or riding bikes back and forth. It’s awesome! The not so awesome part is that it’s almost 40 years old and has had minimal updating. There is a long monotonous laundry list of things that need to be fixed or done to it. 

We found a house and it happens to be in a subdivision. It’s a much newer house than ours but sadly, typical of most, there is no yard. There’s a patio and a patch of grass. Essentially we are trading our amazing outdoor life for a comfy indoor life. Being Washington, the weather makes the inside of the house more of a requirement than the outside.

I came here at 5am because I woke up freaking out about the cons. Aaaall the cons. I message bombed my friends with my panic and realized that wasnt cool, so i need to make a list of the why’s. Not to answer to or justify, but to remind myself why we are doing this. 

1. Upgraded house

2. Proximity to huge city park

3. Saving money

4. Much better layout

5. More community

6. Friends for the kids

7. Way less maintenance

8. New places to explore

At this moment, amid packing boxes and nearing the end of winter (i hope!!) it’s easy to panic about the cons. The changes. The unknowns. The thought of a decision you dont have to make, but are choosing to make negatively impacting your kids is hard. Maybe if I were a parent who believed in blindly leading for the sake of control and authority I’d have less stress. I’d have miserable kids, perhaps, but who cares? Do as I say and ask no questions!

That’s not how we roll. 

If I can keep our reasons in the fore front and remember all the whys I can maintain forward momentum. Silly things like sleep and quiet darkness creep in and make me question what we are doing. 

One down side to moving as often as we have is that it becomes easy to continue doing it. I need to learn with the next house not to say “never again.”.

House Hunting Adventures

Published February 4, 2017 by sarcasmica

Recently I’ve noticed houses in our neighborhood selling really quickly once they go on the market. My husband and I decided to take a peek and see if anything out there would be worth selling our house for. We have some lay out issues with ours in addition to needing a mother-in-law option for my mom who has been living with us for a few years.

We made some rules for ourselves which we began to break almost immediately.

I am pretty set on not wanting to take my son out of our school boundary. It’s been an uphill battle to get here and I cannot make him start all over. I cannot start all over, either. Not if I want to keep this hair in my head and the bits of sanity i’ve held onto.

So we had a radius…which we periodically went outside of.

A couple of weeks ago the seemingly perfect house came up! There was an open house that weekend and it was about 5 miles away. 

“Let’s go!”

It was a rambler. A one story older house on a fantastic piece of peoperty beside a creek. Fenced yard, beautiful back yard area, big kitchen and a lot odd quirky character. Bonus: it had a free standing “additional dwelling unit” aka mother-in-law house/cottage converted barn.

My husband’s current mode of transportation is a knee scooter due to foot surgery he had, and most likely will have again in 2 years on the other foot. We are currently in a 2 story, so this added to the pluses of the house. 

Long story short we went back numerous times for sanity checks, remodeling options yada yada yada, we made an offer.

We told no one. We were a little terrified to even admit we were going to give up our house in this big family oriented neighborhood and quiet private street for a place closer to town and quite frankly I have no idea when I began giving a flying frankfurter what other people think! Why the need to justify this? I’ll move on.

We were so excited! The kids were mostly on board, Fixer Upper was now on the DVR, pinterest pins were flying, color chips were chosen, negotiations were being made and we were prepping our disasterously disorganized house to go on the market in five days. FIVE DAYS! 

We hired gardeners to spruce up the property. 

Side Note: Land is a big pain in the ass and you should probably have it professionally maintained more than every three years 😱

We rented a dumpster and cleared out all kinds of karma, baggage, trash and crap. 

We settled on terms, price, and all was going famously. As long as the inspection came back reasonable the deal would be signed. During the inspection, I met a designer at the property to talk about what remodeling would entail. She had some great ideas. 

This was really happening! How exciting!! 

My husband and I filled in all the initials and signatures on the new contract, leaving areas blank for the agent to fill in after inspection. As we were finishing up, the inspector comes in and begins to load the info onto his laptop. We were in high spirits and joked with him, “Anything big? Any show-stoppers?” totally expecting to hear nothing major….afterall, there was a new roof, new kitchen counters and recent flooring in addition to new carpet. What could go wrong?

He responded with, “Ohhhh yea. Several.”

Shit.

My husband, myself, and our agent walked over still not expecting what we got.

He began with things like cracked window seals, and broken fences. We thought, “Hmm, ok. Manageable.” Then he got to “failed windows” which means the pane needs to be removed and resealed…but it was a window in nearly every room. Damn. 

He moved onto the chimney with pictures of crumbling mortar so bad chunks had just fallen down onto the roof. 

Crap.

Posts holding up the porch roof were beginning to rot and were not fastened properly. Double damn.

We nervously said, “Have we reached the bad stuff now then?”

“Hang on we’re getting there.”

Shit.

We go through some more issues with rotting steps and beams and we’re thinking the scope is getting big and imagining repair costs but we’re hanging in there.

We get to the attic pictures and it begins to unravel. The “new roof” is putting up a 99.9 % moisture reading on his digital gadget. He tells us that is only because it does not have a 100% option. The roof was saturated with water. No less than 20 leaks, and there were most definitely more than that. 

“But he just had the roof done in November!?!”

“Ok, so now this is the worst of it, right?”

“Hang in there..”

Fuck.

Next we see insulation with tracks carved out. Rats. Rats had made their own subdivisions in the rafters. Lots of them, too. A variety of live ones, dead ones, skeletal ones. Rats for everyone! Rat nests, highways so they can travel during the holidays, and wherever they go they pee and poop and pee some more. The insulation was completely saturated with waste.


This was not all.

Soaking wet beams and boards in Washington usually means one thing. Mold. There was white fuzz spreading like ice on a windshield.

But wait, there’s more!

The horizontal load bearing beams in the roof had vertical support beams. Great! Unfortunately the beams were not actually fastened properly to the load bearing beams with anything more than a nail.

Not. Kosher.

One picture showed the middle support beam completely severed resulting in nothing holding the roof!

But the roof was just re-done!

Next we go south to the crawl space. More skeletons and fossils of rodents. Rats to be exact. Zero insulation below the floors to replace at least. There was no insulation. What there was was a giant swimming pool for the rats. A Club Pet, if you will…and they did. They clubbed and swam and scurried all beneath there. The sump pump was not able to drain the water because it wasnt graded to do so. The size of the under home pool was from half the kitchen, down the hall and an entire bedroom. The water was pouring in from the fancy water heated pipe system in addition to the massive separation of the foundation from the side of the house. One entire side of the house. 

But at least the house was stable, right? 

No! The support beams that hold the house up were rotted from all the water! Didnt really matter because they too were not properly attached to the structure. 

Again we saw a broken beam with the board above it totally suspended. The rotting beams that go to the concrete foundation were not actually set into the foundation. They were floating.

“They all float down here!” on the mold, apparently. There was more beneath the house.

The roof on the mother-in-law unit was equally drenched and wrecked. There were curiously no rats over there, though. 

So after 45 minutes of the ass whooping we were served by the inspector, we just picked our jaws off the cold unstable floor and stared in disbelief at the walls of this house we had already made plans for. The agent was equally horrified and shocked by all of this. 

Needless to say the contract was torn up and now we just move on, but definitely not in.

Old houses are one thing to take on, moldy rat infested structures that leak water and are held up by spaghetti sticks do not make good investments or homes.

The March

Published January 22, 2017 by sarcasmica

To be clear, I did not march. I did not have it together enough to go participate. I am so proud of all the people who did, though! Millions and millions of people -women, men, kids, black/white/green/red- all showed a peaceful refusal of accepting this “person” as President of the United States. 

How can someone look at that global turnout and turn a blind eye? How can people look at that unified effort and determination and dismiss it?

I think a lot of people are unclear on the purpose of it. Let me help if I can.

Donald Trump has plainly stated his opinion of women. He places value in boobs and willingness to be silent to abuse. 

Supporting Trump is not a pick and choose option. You cannot dismiss the mocking of a disabled person and say he’d make a good president because he runs a business. (Which requires appreciation and buiding up your employees) 

You cannot endorse a man who does not respect LGBT communities and still expect him to have the best interest of the country at heart. The LGBT community is part of this country. 

There are so very many reasons millions of people went out and marched. No one was whining or crying about injustice. They simply stated it. No one was violent and combative. There were no arrests. No one hurled weapons or destruction. 

It was an enourmous statement that we do not accept a President who does not accept us. 

That is why they are marching. The basic refusal to accept this human as our leader. Im sure if you took a poll of all the protesters you would find a vast array of things they are protesting. It’s that big. It’s not one tidy answer all wrapped in a bow and put on a board. There are many things to disagree with him about but the overall theme is that he wants to diminish the value and power of women, LGBT, lower class, and minorities.

We will endure his presidency, but not willingly and not without an educated, rational, united, peaceful fight. 

For all the women standing up and saying they are not the victims the “snowflakes” are portraying all women to be. For the women in denial about being in control of their bodies and families please stop. Yes it’s important to claim your strength, but that is not what the march is about. Yes you are in control, but what happens when something out of your control happens?! What happens if you are a teenager in Texas who is in a commited relationship and you have no access to birth control because of the governement? 

What happens if you find out your pregnancy is killing you and it is illegal to terminate that pregnancy? What about the women who get the heart-breaking news that the baby they are creating is malformed and will die before or during labor? Regardless of what your choice might be, the government decides how you will handle that. You do not get to choose.

Do you think that woman has a choice to feel independent and empowered and in charge of her life?!

These marches are happening despite your unwillingness to acknowledge the dangerous and lethal decision to put this man in office. 

If you do not agree with 4+ million people peacefully demonsrating maybe you are missing the bigger picture. This is no small feat, and you have to respect whatever brings that many people together with kindness, appreciation, and an open mind. 

This is not about Clinton vs Trump, but let me just say this. If Hillary’s emails that- caused so much uproar- were found to have made porn illegal, or vasectomies illegal what would the result be? If a President made Lorena Bobbitt in charge of men’s health would you stand by and allow it? 

The people who put Trump in office are equally responsible for that insult of the disabled reporter. The people who voted for Trump are equally responsible for the families suffering the loss of a family member due to the loss of their health care. 

There is a bigger picture when millions of people across the planet are unifying in a large scale gesture of refusal. It’s not about one statement or act. It’s about the number of acts and statements that now have the power to make laws and appoint Supreme Court Justices who will make constitutional laws for the future. 

If you dont understand or support the march, fine. Do not diminish the value of the women who have done it. They have the courage and the determination and the enlightenment you refuse to see.

Thank you to everyone who marched. Especially thank you to the women who turned out by the millions. Thank you for not making it about the rage and hurt you feel and turning into something ugly. Thank you for showing the power of grace and unity that is uniquely feminine. 

Trying To Accept It

Published November 9, 2016 by sarcasmica

I’m trying to accept our country’s new reality. I still don’t understand it. I absolutely do not understand how this person was voted by the people to represent our country and have our best interests at heart for all decisions. Decisions that will resonate long after he is no longer in office.

I will say plainly that I am not a political person. I did not even begin to vote until my late 20’s. I’m now 40. I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand why it was so important and on a literal level, I didn’t know how to do it. Plain and simple. Are these excuses? No. I’m not proud of it, but that’s that.

I have watched this debacle of an election process this term and from start to finish I have been completely dumbfounded. Not unlike a lot of other people, I am certain.

Here’s the basics for me. I liked some of what Bernie Sanders said, I liked some of what Hillary Clinton said, and I even liked some of what Donald Trump said. They each had good ideas and plans. It made me nervous that Sanders wanted to start providing all sorts of services and choices for people but the fact he never said how made me assume taxes would be the source.

The idea of a woman president was exciting. Was she the best I could ever imagine running for the job? No. But I didn’t see any other woman stepping up and taking on that challenge. I didn’t see any suggestions or offerings for who would be a better candidate either. Her experience made me feel like she was qualified and understood the bigger picture about what she could do. She seemed entirely able to weigh our international consequences for immediate change. Who else has served that many roles for government and wanted to continue and stick it out and stay with it? Man or woman? Again, I have other interests than politics so I am very ignorant when it comes to who’s who and deeper trivia.

I do not buy into conspiracy theories. I do not hold accusations and speculation and bitter hate up on a pedestal to influence my vote for President of the United States of America. Call me a sheep, that’s fine. I have not seen solid hard evidence that the paranoia surrounding Clinton was ever validated. What has made her such a hated villain? Somebody please tell me factual real evidence that she has participated in or caused such vile human atrocities that would deem her incapable of running our country given the professional career she has. Please.

The only word that sticks to her is “emails” and “Benghazi”. I’d love to know what this actually means. She has had to made decisions that I have no doubt any mortal could not stomach. Decisions that have consequences the civilian population have no business knowing or understanding. What does the general public know about her choices and actions that would result in the categorical refusal to accept her as a qualified politician to be our President?

Now we turn to our President-Elect, Mr. Trump. There are not conspiracy theories about this person because he puts his hate out for all to consume. There is no sticky political agenda he is accused of because he’s kept himself quite comfortable in the private sector making money off of Americans left and right and proudly announcing that he has not contributed his legal obligation to pay taxes on what he’s amassed. Does he respect America? I can’t see how when he has not hidden that materials used to entertain, house, and capitalize on Americans are not acquired in America! Where has this devout bleeding stars patriot been all our lives?

The people who looked at a presidential ballot and decided to fill in the Trump bubble are people that I do not at all understand…. and I do want to. I don’t want to debate, I don’t want to propagate more anger and hate, I just want to sincerely understand. Where did the government go so wrong that we elect someone with ZERO professional government experience to run the entire country? Where did Hillary Clinton go so wrong that voting for Trump – zero experience, was leaps and bounds more palatable than voting for a professional?

My husband and I have talked extensively about how we totally agree that Trump’s business sense would be an asset to the country. He would make a fantastic advisor or cabinet member in so far as trade input or contract negotiation or business taxes. He would be a great asset to this country on how to put business sense back into government. That’s about where the support and acquiescence goes for me, personally. Just because he can make a billion dollars does not at all mean I want him having a hand in naming Supreme Court Justices who will carry out laws and repeal laws for the next DECADE plus that would set our country and civil rights back generations. I find that when you meet someone who is great at making a buck, you don’t want to look too closely at what morals and ethics come into play in setting up their hierarchy of priorities.

I have seen and heard a lot of garbage about how her staying with her husband is permissible in making judgements based on her professional ability.

I hate a double standard. I do. If we are judging her for staying with a cheater, why are we not judging a cheater? Why are we not judging Trump for NOT staying with multiple wives with multiple children? Why are we not judging Trump for his wives’ professional choices? Afterall, it’s general consensus that when Bill Clinton was President, his wife was actually the President, right? So it’s ok to judge her based on his job.

NO! no No and NO. They are separate. If we judge Hillary Clinton on Bill Clinton’s policies, then we better start digging into Ivana Trump’s jobs and Milania’s long list of professional decisions. (see: Sarcasm Font)

Double Standards, conspiracy theories, and paranoia aside, please someone enlighten me on where “Crooked Hillary” would have made a worse President than someone who has said very plainly that he wants to elect a Justice who would repeal a woman’s right to make choices about her own body. How is he more qualified than a woman to even begin to comprehend what that means? Please leave the bullshit answer about abortions used as birth control out of it. That is ridiculous hyperbole and exaggeration of the vast majority of reasons women make that awful decision. I do not support abortion, I support women knowing enough about their situation to make a decision for their own life and family and reality.

How about we start poking around colleges and get the government involved in a man’s right to date rape? How about we start listing Frat Parties on the regulation list because drunk guys are clearly unable to make a decision for themselves.

Here’s a newsflash in case you didn’t pay attention in Health. The small percentage of girls who get an abortion as “birth control” actually had a guy put the semen in her to create that life.

Did I just blow your mind? Did you understand that a man was actually involved in the creation of that life you Pro Lifers seem to think is your business? Why does the government stop their nosing in and regulation of life at the vagina? Keep on going, let’s make it a mass control, follow the life you are protecting down to the penis that was 50% responsible for creating it!

And on that note, let’s take count of all the responsible devout republicans who are avid Pro Lifers and refuse to let women decide what to do with these fetuses. How many are loving, moral foster parents for the children who were born into a situation that couldn’t be handled and were then turned over to an orphanage? How many children who were unwanted have been adopted by these morally rock solid Pro Lifers?

Don’t even get me started on the gun nonsense. That’s a whole other post/blog/chapter/novel.

So here we go into uncharted territory with a professional money maker. Someone who has left his own family repeatedly and has no issue evading taxes, going bankrupt and threatening immigrants is about to make decisions and laws for the general public. I wonder if he understands the “general” part of public. Our nation is made up of immigrants! The only difference is generational. I sincerely hope he holds true to creating jobs and money and wealth for everyone in this country who is willing to go get it. It seems the country has chosen to overlook decades of career and service in one option for the hope and promise newly offered by another.

God help us all.

Strength

Published October 17, 2016 by sarcasmica

I have always thought of myself as a pretty strong person. Maybe this is an inflated ego or a shallow self-important view, but it’s the truth. I’ve been through some shit and seen some things others might consider anti normal or even crazy. This weekend has brought me to a strange place.

 My father’s birthday rolls around once a year as birthdays often do. The unfortunate part is that he’s not around to blow out the candles. He died 15 years ago. For fifteen years I feel his loss more than other days a guaranteed twice a year. The date he died and the date he lived. October 15, 1946 was his birthday. He could never in my whole life remember the day I was born, but here I am still mentally ticking it off in my head year after year. (The day he died was December 9, 2001)

This post is not about that. Just one event of many this weekend. Our state has been bracing for an epic twice-in-a-lifetime storm. Generators sold out, batteries sold out, gas lines a block long. My husband was out of town for this, so it was ultimately my responsibility to prepare everything. Flashlights, water, bread, lemon bars, cookies, you know, basic needs. I did it. I prepared the shit out of this house! I pulled in patio furniture, I disassembled patio umbrellas, I asked the neighbor to hook up the RV battery. We were READY. 

We got rain, we got a wind gust, the power flickered off……. 10 seconds later it was back on and the storm was over. My kids were crying -disappointment the power didn’t go out! I was happy trees didn’t have to be removed from windows or cars or bodies, but my kids were mad the flashlights were once again a novelty and not a necessity. I offered to cut the power all day Sunday but they protested, “That would be booooooriiiiing!”

Sunday morning my cat decides around 4:30am things needed to be shaken up. She began relentlessly pawing at my bedroom door. It was a battle of wills. Hers was to get me up and incite my fury, mine was to squeeze the pillow as tight over my head as possible to not hear it. 

She won. I got up and hissed at her. She intelligently ran. An hour later it started again, but this time she ran into my room and under the bed. Something she never ever does. I fell back asleep with images of bears and/or coyotes and/or clowns prowling around downstairs and mentally put together escape plans for each scenario….so that I didn’t have to actually get up and check downstairs. That never ends well in the movies. I still have no idea why she behaved so strangely but it made the morning events that much more numb from sleep deprivation. 

After crawling downstairs once the kids were up, I check the bathroom mirror to assess the situation with my newly infected bottom TADs. (The 4 screws that were put in my upper & lower jaws four weeks ago) 

WARNING: this is where the gross begins. Proceed with caution

Right… mirror, gums: Still squishy. Still puss. Still big blisters gaining momentum towards surrounding teeth. Oddly no real pain, though, just a serious Nasty Factor. I rinse with warm salt water, spit, notice one inflammation has maxed out and now burst. 

Fucking gross. Why me? Why now? Why at all?! 

I like to think most people would react the same way, but I tested the tissue out after rinsing away the gore. I gently touch my finger tip to the swollen tissue, it remains intact. I gently touch the screw head and hear, “CRACK!”. I gasp. My kids shout from the other room, “What happened mom?!” I see the entire screw shift inside my jaw, below my teeth and it becomes clear what must happen next. 

I have to shut the kids up.

“What mom?! What happened?! I heard you gasp!”

They didn’t actually come to see. No one decided the sound warranted an expedition all the way to the next room. No. Mom reacts so much better to a situation when she has to field answers to two separate children in two different rooms all while speaking with what obviously sounds like a hand is in her mouth. 

“My screw just came loose!”

They react. I’m still staring in horror as my soul leaves my body so I can handle this. I watch myself grab the head of the screw and pull the entire thing straight out of my jaw bone. 

This was the pinnacle of my strength. 

What the fuck just happened?! This 3/4 inch skinny screw that still had tissue and matter attached is now in my hand as my kids are “Ewe”ing and “Blech!”ing from elsewhere. 

Talk about a nervous breakdown. 

I rinsed, I pulled it together. My daughter immediately asked to see it, my son did not. I managed, after much pacing and frantic calls to dental parties, to move right along. 

I tell you what, I thought I was strong. I thought I could handle some shit. After today’s little ordeal I am more impressed with myself than ever!! 

Until I have to go see the oral surgeon tomorrow who will need to remove the other TAD that is even more angry and infected than the ejected one. 

I know people are going through horrible awful events in this world like floods and disease and death and starvation. That makes me feel humbled and very small. But y’all, I just pulled a surgically placed piece of metal that was screwed into my face out of my jaw with my bare hands!! Tell me that is not cape-worthy and horrific all at the same time! 

(Now 2 of the 4 are out, and yes that is bone attached to the TAD! 😖😱 (temporary anchoring device)

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