If I ever write a book, I think that will be the title.
Seriously, I know I haven't posted much lately and mostly it's because my husband was informed back in January that the plant where he works was closing and as of March 28th, he would have no job. January and February were okay, but as we got into March and unemployment loomed on the horizon, the stress started to get to me. I was seriously afraid of becoming homeless and destitute. But fortunately for me (and yes, the rest of the family) my husband was offered a great job last week. They even met his counter-offer. Now, that takes balls - asking for more money & vacation time when you are all but unemployed! Obviously, he accepted the job so I am no longer worried about having to sell all our belongings and move to a park bench in Moore Square (Raleigh's address for those without an address).
The reason I didn't post to the blog was because I was so stressed out that I failed to find the humor in everyday situations as I normally do and anything I posted would have probably sounded more like whining. So I did you and me a favor and put the blog aside for a while. Although the Elliot Spitzer photo was too tempting to pass up... I couldn't leave that one alone.
The big thing that happened while I was "away" is that we had to take Ollie to the emergency room. Why? Because, as Ollie herself tells it, I smacked her in the head with a ceramic dog bowl. It's only funny because she wasn't seriously hurt and Social Services didn't deem it worthy of their time to investigate. But seriously, that's what happened - I smacked her in the head with a ceramic dog bowl. I blame Wondermutt. It all started when Wondermutt was eating The Fuzzbucket's food. For some stupid reason (like I must care about these idiot dogs), I buy separate food because Wondermutt is technically a "senior" dog and Fuzz is not, although not too long ago I was buying her puppy food. So I get the special Senior Citizen food for Wondermutt and regular adult dog food for Fuzz. (Speaking of the idiot dogs, I think I hear them attacking the UPS man - hope he brought dog biscuits again!) Anywaaaay... Wondermutt was eating Fuzz's food which was served in a lovely heavy-duty paw-print-adorned ceramic bowl. So I snatched the bowl away from the dog and turned to put it on the counter, Ollie appeared out of nowhere and there was a horrific collision between her temple and the bowl. The impact cut a small but very deep V about 4 mm from the outside edge of Ollie's eye. If you have children, or are just very clumsy, you know that any laceration to the face bleeds like a stuck pig so there was blood everywhere. Grover, who witnessed the whole transaction, turned white as milk and looked like she was going to pass out. We quickly decided to take Ollie to the ER since it was after the pediatrician's office hours and frankly, it never occurred to me to take her to Urgent Care. I'm sure they could have handled it and done it in less than four and a half hours. By the time we got to the hospital, I had the bleeding under control (thank God for First Aid training) and she was put somewhere near the bottom of the triage list. Evidently, half of Wake County decided to visit the Children's ER that night as well so we finally got taken back to a room after three hours. Thirty minutes later, a PA came in to look at the injury (which by that point was just oozing clear liquid because I don't think Ollie had any blood left in her) and said she needed stitches. Duh! Why in the ham sandwich would we have come to the ER if we could have slapped a band-aid on it? So the PA left to get her sewing kit and reappeared some 30 minutes later. After observing that there was no cart in the room, the PA left again. I looked at my husband and said "I'll guess we'll see her in 30 minutes" and sure enough, half an hour later she comes back. At least she brought a nurse with her so she didn't have to leave again! The whole numbing and stitching procedure was undoubtedly the worst experience of my entire life. Not only did I feel like a horrible mother for causing this accident that required this awful procedure, but then I had to hold my four year old child's hands down and try to comfort her while she was attacked with cleaning solutions, iodine, saline syringes and needles of various sizes. Ollie screamed and cried like only a 4YO who has absolutely no life experience to prepare her for such an event could. It was heartbreaking. Years ago, I was in a violent SUV rollover accident that left me luckily with no broken bones, but in excruciating pain and residual nerve damage, not to mention a severe case of PTSD and I would go through that 100 more times not to ever have to have either of my children in this situation again. But back to the funny stuff... Ollie got three Carolina Blue stitches and a green popsicle and she was happy as a mule eating briars. In fact, as we stood on the curb waiting for my husband to bring the car around, she asked if we could come back sometime. I just stared at her and said "WHAT?!?" Ollie said "If I get another boo-boo, can we come back here?" and jumped up and down with delight when I responded "Well, sure, I guess." Her stitches are gone and she has a small crescent-shaped scar by her eye and a little Webkinz named "Stitch" to show for the ordeal. Meanwhile, I'm waiting for the insurance company to f*** something up because they always do...
The other funny thing (that inspired the title of today's post) is that Wondermutt is obviously having some sort of gastrointestinal distress because she's puked a couple of times (once Easter morning and roughly the color of lime jell-o) and has this horrible gas. Usually, she curls up on the couch with me while I watch TV but last night I had to make her move. Seriously, it smelled like something crawled up her butt and died. Unfortunately, moving her didn't get rid of the smell. You know that kind of smell that just lingers like a mushroom cloud? Yeah, that was over my sofa last night. Worse, it met me like sunflowers greet the sun when I returned home from taking Grover to school and then grocery shopping this morning. Hence, my house smells like a giant dog fart. I immediately made an appoinment with the vet and then opened the windows. Thank goodness it's going to be in the 70s today. I don't know what I'm going to do tonight - I have to watch basketball! My Tar Heels are playing at 7 or 7:30. I think Wondermutt will have to be banished to the back yard.
