Along Came a Spider

Last night I arrived home late after a dinner out with friends. My garage door is currently broken (it's always something) so I had to get into the house in a kind of circuitous way. Not through a window or anything just not as easy as walking in a door. (I would go through the front door but the key doesn't work anymore after Max snapped the OLD key off in the lock some years ago.) Yes, this is my life.

Suffice it to say, I was breaking my routine which, for me, is always a recipe for disaster. I grabbed my things out of the car and walked toward the garage door. What I neglected to notice was the ENORMOUS, almost PREHISTORIC sized spider web that ran from the basketball hoop to the ground beside my car.

I walked right into it. OMG. This web was HUGE. Not your average silky soft, dew-kissed web. This sucker was meant for catching small rodents, birds and low flying planes. And it was sticky. Oh to have been my neighbors at that exact moment.

It hit me full on in the face. My reaction was immediate and somewhat athletic (full cardio work out trying to get the damn thing off me).

"What the...EWWWWW...get it off! get it off!...sptht...sptht...Holy...Mary...Mother of....Spider! Where's the spider! Is it on me??? Is it on me????...OH MY GOD."

This was accompanied by LOTS of flailing, spinning, looking over my shoulder and frantically wiping off my arms. I dropped all of the stuff that I was carrying in my frenzy and I damn near knocked myself unconscious on the basketball hoop.

When I finally decided that the spider was not actually on me I calmed slightly. But only a little. Want to see a picture of this beast?? It's not for the faint of heart...

Proud Kitty

My insanely good hunting cat, "Mr. Bitters" (i.e. "Bitty" "Bit Bit"), just spent the last 10 minutes trying to give me a gift but it was not a gift that I wanted.  It was a (maybe) dead mouse.  Eeewwww.

Mr. Bitters was SO proud.  He followed me around with it, meowing and dropping it at my feet.  I ran from him yelling "Good Kitty" "Good Kitty" over my shoulder.  While I am pleased with him for catching the various critters that scurry around our place I'm all good with showing my approval from a (safe) distance.

Joe told me that Bitty presented him with a flying squirrel the other day (I'm trying not to be jealous that he only wanted to give me a half dead mouse). A flying squirrel!! First of all, I didn't even know we HAD those (totally gross - flying rodents) and second, how in the world did he actually catch one?? 

For as much as this cat spends his days laying around doing less than nothing, it's amazing to me that he can "turn it on" when needed and actually do something productive.

Now if I could just get him to stop stalking the chickens...

Break it Down Now

I seriously think I might be having a nervous breakdown.  Or at least some sort of breakdown.  I can only speak of it now because it happened the day before yesterday and the fog is just starting to lift.  The problem is that I’ve been spending waaaaay too much “quality time” with my kids lately and it’s apparently driven me to the brink of madness.  Kind of should have seen that coming, I guess, knowing my kids as I do.  It’s not that I don’t love them (I DO) it’s just that I love them more when I limit my contact with them.

Kids are just a different animal altogether.  Adults like to sit and talk and drink alcohol.  Kids like to run and yell and ride bikes.  I have often explained to the kids that they can do their thing while I do my thing (making the concession that I’d be sitting on the front porch watching them do their thing) but it never really works out.  I swear to you that if I hear “Watch me!! Are you watching me? You’re not even watching me!” one more time I might actually completely lose it.

I was talking with some friends last night about an upcoming couples’ trip that we’ll be taking. I was really excited to talk about the plans and all the fun that we would have when suddenly I looked at my daughter. She was crying. Oh! “Sweetie, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“All you want to do is get away from us!” she sobbed. “Why did you even HAVE kids if you just want to get away from them.”

Let me clarify before you get all “Oh, the poor little baby, she’s not feeling loved”.  She’s plenty loved, both the kids are. I live, sleep, eat and breathe those kids. We just got back from a FOUR DAY family camping trip (minus the husband so it was ALL ME). Prior to that I spent the entire week at the 4-H fair, meeting their every need. Getting away from them after that seemed like a pretty good idea.

While the husband and I are off on this trip, the kids will be with their grandparents at their favorite place on earth, Drummond Island. So it’s not like I’m leaving them with some mean, burly, troll-like babysitter who will do nothing fun at all. They LOVE being up North with Grandma and Grandpa. But even when I reminded her of this, she continued to cry.

I tried to explain the bit about how I need to put my oxygen mask on first so that I can save everyone else but the analogy was lost on her. But it is not lost on me. 

A Mom's gotta do what a Mom's gotta do.