Barking Mad

Happy Halloweekend!

From all of us here at the Barking Mad asylum, we wish you a wickedly Haunted Halloween!

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The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same - Invasion '09

This time of year in Maine you can count on several things...the foliage turning from all shades of green into bright oranges, reds, golds, yellows and ambers, the snowbirds retreating to warmer climes, the little dairy shacks that dot the coastline shuttering up for the winter, and our annual invasion of winged beasts.   These kinds of winged beasts in particular...

 

We have several of these "groups" of ladybugs throughout the entire house.  The harder we try to control the invading hordes, the worse it seems to get. I gave up counting when I got to 100.  And what does one call a group of ladybugs like this?  A pod? Pride? Coven? Well, if you're an almost-four-year-old, you call them a "Schnooff of ladybugs."   Don't even attempt to call them anything else because you will be sternly corrected by the small person.  

Frankly I'd be willing to bet we have several little ladybug orgies going on throughout our house...but I dare not speak those words aloud else I'll have a certain little person repeating them at the most inopportune times.

The first fall that we were here at the asylum we got a real taste of what this yearly invasion of ladybugs was like.  Prior to that we'd had a few get in to whatever house we were in, but nothing like that first year here.   Gaby was roughly 21 months old at the time and was intrigued and beguiled by the ladybugs, but still a tad apprehensive...

I love how she says "ladybugs." Cracks me up every time!

Last year the invasion wasn't as um...well, plentiful as it is this year so we didn't pay too much attention to it.   However this year, with the sheer volume alone, it's really hard to ignore.  Oh and then there's the feline factor.  Oiy!  Our sheers in the front room are pretty much history due to the cats shredding them whilst climbing, in order to get to a nice, fat, juicy, red beetle!  Gaby is still beguiled by them, but after watching the first video, and now this one, you can tell that certain things never change - despite growing older, both she and I jump when we're holding one and they take to the air...

I guess I should be grateful for the fact that it's only ladybugs we're dealing with and not an invasion of fiddler crabs, eh CBW?

Don't forget, during the entire month of October, to support the fight against breast cancer, Barking Mad is in the pink!  For every comment left on each post, we'll donate a certain amount to Susan G. Komen for the Cure®.  Read more about it here!

I'm Not Angry...I'm Just a Bitch

 

The last several days have been a monumental clusterfuck of attitude, ignorance, lack of respect, lack of internet (thanks Comcast! You are on my SUCKIT list too!), shit (both literal and figurative - Geronimo had a rotten tummy - crapped all over himself and got a bath; as a result of said bath, I am now sporting some nifty slices and dices along my arms.), and yelling and screaming with a few threats to kick a certain teenager out of the asylum...it all adds up to one big heaping plate of stress. All of this with only 6 days left until Meg leaves for boot camp.

I'd really love nothing more than to just flush the last six or seven days down the toilet!

Oh and did I mention that I stopped taking my anti-depressant?  No? Well, guess what, I did.  I was beginning to feel better, emotionally anyhow, and I thought to myself, "Self, lets stop taking this expensive little pill, because you're feeling better and we don't need it any more!"  My head-shrinker was on holiday and I'd mention it to her when she got back...surely it wouldn't be that big a deal?  So, voila, just like that I stopped taking them and away went my feelings of well being and with it, the last remaining shards of my sanity.  Oh wait, one of the resident teenagers ran off with some of that as well.

Then we come to The Pumpkin.  How can a pumpkin possibly be construed as something stressful?  It is, after all, just a pumpkin.

After you read this, you're going to think I've completely lost it.  Maybe.

So, when is a pumpkin, carved into a Jack O' Lantern and given to a three-year-old, much more than just a nice gesture?  When it's given to said three year old by a person whom the three year old's mother wants nothing to do with and wants her influence clearly out of reach of the three year old.   Did that make any sense?

Remember this post?  Yeah the same one that's now made me one of the most hated mom's in Maine? The one that's gotten one of our cars vandalized, been the impetus for numerous threatening and harassing phone calls as well as emails (some of you imbeciles out there need to learn how to use an onion router and not try and cover your IP with hidemyass.com!), and caused me to laugh hysterically as teenagers drive by my house and flip me off...Well, the "Young Lady" I referred to in that post, carved a Jack O' Lantern for Gaby yesterday and Meg brought it home with her when "Young Lady" dropped her off after spending some time with her in order to say goodbye before Meg leaves for boot camp.  Before I had a chance to protest, Meg had whisked Gaby outside to show it to her and make sure she knew exactly who it was from. 

Needless to say, Gareth was pissed.   He expressed his displeasure with Meg who, in reply told him that the Young Lady was probably pulled over crying somewhere because she couldn't say hello to Gaby and give it to her personally.  My own reply to that is something along the lines of, "Because your mother is a big fat bitch and wants to limit your little sister's exposure to people she has issues with, a fact you are well aware of, I really don't care if the Young Lady was parked at the end of our street crying her eyes out!"  Yes gentle readers, I am as heartless and cruel as it appears and ya know what, I don't give a shit what anyone thinks.  The gesture was completely inappropriate and Gareth and I will not have Gaby used as a pawn in anyone's game. 

If you are sitting there with your mouth agape and in shock that I could be pissed off over something as innocent as a Jack O'Lantern, well, that's OK.  You might be cool with a gesture like that, to your toddler, from someone who you want your child to have absolutely nothing to do with.  Me?  Not so much.  If the shoes were switched, I'd have steered clear of doing anything like that, especially knowing how the toddler's mother feels.  What's the point in doing it, other than to play games and try and ingratiate yourself in the eyes of a three year old? Whilst I don't begrudge Meg her friends, especially those she is very close to, as she is to the Young Lady; Meg is an adult and will do what she will do. However I still have say in who comes and goes, in any manner, in the life of my three year old.

Of course, Meg made it painfully clear to Gaby who the pumpkin was from and now I've got a three year old who is upset with me that she can't see the Young Lady and say thank you.

Now, this little issue of not acknowledging a gift has, I admit, rankled me since last night.  I have always impressed upon my kids that you say thank you...period.  Despite the intent behind the pumpkin, it was still, in the end, a gift, and should be acknowledged.  Gareth and I disagree on this one point. He believes that the intent negates acknowledgment.   We've discussed the issue back and forth and whilst there is still some residual anger over the gesture and aforementioned intent, we have come to an agreement of sorts.  It's more important for us to encourage Gaby to express gratitude over any gift, large or small and to attempt to let go of the anger at the purpose surrounding it.  And, Gaby genuinely loves the pumpkin.  She knows that her mumma hates to gut the damn things and had been planning on bedazzling one this year and calling it good.  Oh yes I was!

So this is our compromise. 

Given that Gaby is learning French in Montessori, we have been asked by her teachers at school to encourage her to use it here at home...so we did.

P.S.  Gareth says this comes across as very angry.  Whilst I'm not as angry as I was last night, I'm still fairly perturbed.  It will pass though.  If I had still been well and truly angry at this point?  Monsieur Pumpkin would have been so much meat for the pumpkin cookies I'm baking tonight.  But now that would have been childish and immature (like a certain segment of you are no doubt thinking this post is...), non?