I can cross something off of my lifetime to do list. I finally got to hold a tarantula! Is that not exciting or what?! And even better....it didn't bite me.
I love spiders. Yes, love is a strong word when speaking of arachnids. I enjoy their beauty. Some from a distance might I add! The kind people at the local reptile zoo passed the spider around for all interested persons to hold. I was trying to keep my cool as it came closer and closer to me. I was excited enough to soil myself. Thankfully though, I didn't. Once I felt those furry little legs with picky tips tickling my palm I knew I was experiencing the next best thing to heaven.
Then I got to hold a python, some kind of lizard thingy and pet a skunk. Yes de-scented. Although can you ever really de-scent something so naturally pungent? I don't think so! (I wonder if they have to pee a skunk like they do squirrels.) Big whoop.
Anyhow, last evening I decided to start the campaign.
Me: That tarantula was AMAZING today! Him: uh huh. me: I want one. him: (cough, sputter) HAA! me: Does that mean yes? him: (nasty look) me: But I'll feed him, and walk him and clean up after him! Pleeeease! him: me: And a dog. I want a dog too. A tarantula and a dog. him: me: We could start with the dog though.
This is where I realized that he had completely tunned me out and had moved on to working on his lap top. I am a child again. A child begging for a pet. Not where I expected to be at 40.
Although a tarantula would be nice, and the possibility of one biting is not great, I wouldn't not seriously consider having one with young children in the house. I would however consider another dog. He doesn't want to. [sigh]
So I am now on the lookout for a pet to call my own. Something small that I can conceal. This morning I looked in the front garden. I found a pair of lady bugs. One looked like our native species. Nice, docile and beautifully red. The second looked like the invasive Asian kind that is wiping out our domestic ones.
I have included a picture. The one on the bottom would be my choice....it being the more docile of the two and less likely to munch on me. The Asian ones have a nasty habit of biting when hungry. Somehow though, I don't think a lady bug is the pet for me. I'm just not getting that "ooooh! come and meet my new pet, isn't it exciting!" feeling from her.
I apologize for the graphic nature of the picture. I had caught them, it seems at an inappropriate time.
I FINALLY got through almost a whole night without someone waking me up because: *I was snoring *They couldn't find the toilet *They had to up-chuck their supper, preferably on me so I would believe them *They had a bad dream and wanted to make sure I hadn't indeed run off to join the circus with the other dancing alligators *They just wanted to say hi *They dreampt they were swimming with the hippos and peed the bed *Oh and yes, (about 10 minutes after the waking me up just to say hi!)and by the way, I love you Mama.
At about 5 am my wee one woke me up because she wanted me to come and sleep with her in HER bed. I was too tired to argue, and so dragged myself to her room and nestled myself amoungst the 1oo million stuffed toys, bubbies (baby blankets), pillow and books. So comfortable. Glad to be invited.
Two nights ago however, was even more interesting. 3 of 4 awoke and eventually made her way into the kitchen and came and wrapped her arms around me.
Awww! How sweet! She got up to give me a hug....before I fell asleep for a change. I noticed then that she was fidgiting with my shirt in the front. It appeared she was trying to lift my shirt or something. It was then I realized the true nature of her visit to the kitchen. She thought I was the toilet. She was lifting my lid so that she could pee on me.......
I am NOT the toilet! The bathroom is down the hall. HOLD IT 'TILL WE GET THERE! I yell as I rush her down the hall.....just in time might I add!
I have previously found her in the kitchen opening the utensil drawer, sitting on her sisters bed and in the livingroom on my recliner. Luckily I have always managed to catch her before she does her business.
Oh the joys of living with a sleepwalker.....or should I say sleep peer.
Some nights running away with the dancing alligators sounds tempting. I'd probably get a better sleep in a circus caravan!
It's raining. Again. It's been raining for longer than I care to think about. I'm starting to feel like one of my fish got their wish and soon I'll be living in a little bowl full of atmosphere while the rest of the planet in underwater. I hope they feed me as well as I've fed them, and that they remember that it is they that like blood worms, and not me.
Tomorrow is Victoria Day. A holiday of course! You can't let a long dead queens birthday pass without celebration and a national holiday! So an early Happy Victoria's Day to all.
On Canada day we put up flags and wear maple leaf t-shirts. We have fireworks and parties. Parliament hill jam packs full of happy folk and enjoy live entertainment......other than the politicians for a change.
What do we do for Victoria Day? I believe there are fireworks. A bit "damp" for that, to say the least, this year. That's it. Most start their planting in these parts on this weekend. Too wet to do that though. Cold also. Cold and wet. Yup.
I know....we can all dress up in pompous looking attire and go around looking like we sucked on a lemon while someone shoves a stick up our butt. That's the image brought to mind when someone says Queen Victoria. Sounds like a plan. Let the fun begin!
We played beat the bus today. I'm sure we were destined to lose on this particular morning. 2 of 4 was standing barefoot, unbrushed and whining in the living room when the bus should have been shooting down the road at break neck speed. But it didn't happen. No bus appeared.
Fifteen minutes after the bus should have arrived, the children stood around laughing at each other making lizard faces, sticking out their tongues and falling into fits of giggles. (I can't imagine WHO ever started them on that activity--smirk) Still no bus appeared.
I decided, much to the chagrin of 4 0f 4, who likes to lounge in her jammies and catch up on her shows in the morning, that we'd drive to school today. When we got there....still no bus had arrived ahead of us.
I'm not sure what happend to "Speedy" this morning, but it leaves me wondering why I try so hard to beat the bus in the mornings if she's just going to not show up one day. Doesn't she know I have a schedule to keep! I even wore a bra to the bus this morning under my sweatshirt and put on some jeans and brushed my hair! It's not every day I do that! Talk about inconsiderate! Humph! Double-Humph!!
So, I had to take 4 of 4 out for coffee early today and have a muffin with it after dropping the other three off. Sigh. Life is so hard as a stay at home mom.
I saw this on Deb's blog, who saw this on Melissa's blog, thought it looked like fun, and stole. . .er. . .I mean. . .borrowed the idea.
Accent – I don't have an accent EH! The rest of the world does.
Booze of choice – I don't drink. So sadly I have no excuse for my bizarre behaviour!
Chore I hate – Cleaning my storage room. So I generally don't.
Dog or Cat –DOG!!!! Cats were a failed attempt by an alien race to take over the planet. Some people fall under their power, which is why one will never again cross my door step! Hateful beasts! Except the ones with dog like characters. I like those.
Essential electronics – a radio that has our local talk station so I have something to get enraged about on a daily basis.
perfume - No. I'd have to really stink to make myself wear the stuff. I never do stink that much! It makes me sneeze.
Gold or Silver? Gold. Except on my teeth. For those if I ever need to get them capped, porcelain.
Hometown – Same city I'm a sittin' in now. eh.
Insomnia? – frequently. But never during the day!
Job Title – I haven't decided yet what it will be for this week. I'm leaning towards cartoonist again. Maybe painter. Possibly aquarist. I'll let you know.
Living Arrangement – I used to think that we owned a house and that I live with my family. Actually as it turns out we are just tennants of the local squirrels. When we don't hand over the nuts they take the rent out in garbage. It's a sweet deal either way.
Most-admired trait – I suppose it's .....I want to say honesty, but most people now adays don't admire that all that much. They think I'm absolutely insane when I'm honest.
Number Of Penguins In Your Bathtub – No penguins presently, but at least one hippo and possibly a squirrel. You never know when they will pop in for a visit and feel like taking a bath.
Overnight Hospital Stays – only if I can be promised a semi-private room with the most loud, annoying, foul smelling individuals on the planet. I lucked out twice.
Phobia – I'm afraid to say!~
Quote – "Ah good taste--what a dreadful thing! Taste is the enemy of creativeness!" Pablo Picasso
Religion – I am a Christian. Free Methodist.
Siblings – yes. both artistic and only slightly more normal than myself.
Time I wake up – 12am, 1:30, 3:15, 3:30, 4:45, 5:30, 6:00, 6:01, etc....
Unusual talent/skill – I see dead people...JUST KIDDING. I can't think of anything. I can eat a couple of Kg. of chocolate without puking? Is that a talent or skill?
Vegetable I refuse to eat – Eggplant. Never tried it. Don't want to....but gosh, it sure is a pretty colour!
Worst habit – chocolate, dressing gnomes, using 'ou' instead of just 'o'. I'm not fond of the Queen, but I just can't give up her English.
X-rays – I'm trying to cut down.
Yummy foods I make – Chocolate chip cookies!!!! Blood worms. The cookies are for me and the blood worms are for my fish. I don't actually make them though (the worms). I do a mean defrost though!
Zodiac sign – No, but theres a no flyer sign on our mail box.
Died suddenly, at the tender age of about 2 weeks, Woody the squirrel passed away in his sleep, comfortably on his hot water bottle, freshly fed and peed.
Woody was a good squirrel. Had he had the chance, we are sure he would have been able to scrounge through the garbage, damaged property and stare in my windows had he been afforded the chance to grow along with his siblings and his peers. I mean .... fellow pee-ers.
All welcome to the kind person's backyard for a closed shoe box funeral before he starts to smell.
He is survived by about 60 kazillion siblings located throughout the planet.
Donations can be made in his honour to your local Wildlife care centre. Sure wish we still had one. Our municipality shut it down and made it illegal to treat wild animals. The infirmed now need to be cared for by people who don't know how to pee them or through the underground "pee the squirrel" groups. (i kid you not!)
I was innocently driving my bike with my backseat driver 4 of 4, trailing behind in the "chariot" bike trailor down a bike path through the neighbourhood that I am obsessively attracted to, next to my own. It has a great Starbucks and lots of quaint little shops with the feel of a little town all it's own in the middle of the city. The houses range from small cottage like dwellings to huge modern monstrosities peppered all throughout. I wasn't even LOOKING for trouble today!
"You're driving very bumpy mom!" says 4 of 4, not at all disappointed in the lack of appropriate shocks and sad state of affairs that the path is in. I notice out of the corner of my eye, when passing a tree along the path, a huge set of gleaming black eyes attached to an itty bitty tiny wee black body lounging under a large pine. I hit the brakes. It's a baby squirrel.
"Look 4 of 4! A baby squirrel. (Not that I at all like squirrels or anything! Snicker.) All alone under a tree!" I tell the unimpressed child. "ahhh! yes!" she replies in that voice that tells me she's humouring me, and lets get on with hitting those bumps! But I can't leave. I have to against the better judgement of my little inner voice, check this out.
I approach and it doesn't run away. I reach out tentatively, afraid of being bitten, and pet it's cutsey wootsy little baby squirrel head. It drags itself to a neighbouring pine. It's legs are not strong. It's a baby, but how old I don't know. I wrap it in Jessie's cozy "bubby" (blanket) and it starts to close it's eyes. It's exhausted! "Oh no! Not my bubby mommy!" she whines.
After consulting with some passersby I decide to bring it with me. The poor wee thing has been there since at least yesterday, following people down the path looking for someone to ..... who knows what.
"Oh no!!! NOT MY DORA KNAPSACK!" she says in a frantic wail. I explain I will remove the baby squirrel when I get home and her knapsack will be unharmed. She is suspicious, but begrudgingly agrees.
I stop at my neighbour, and dear friends house just across from my own, to show her my precious find, not having a clue what I will do with a baby squirrel during our coffee time which is fast approaching. Little did I know I came to the right person!
I'll skip the first part of the conversation and get right to the interesting part:
"What the heck to you mean I have to "pee the squirrel?" I ask. I couldn't have heard her right. She must have said something else. Why in the world would I ever want to pee on a squirrel? "No, not pee on the squirrel....you need to PEE the squirrel."
I am confused. Now I will admit, it doesn't always take that much to confuse me, but she had me totally stumped.
"Baby squirrels aren't able to pee themselves, so their mothers lick them on their...ummm....you know....privates, to stimulate the release of their pee and stool." she says in a calm, hey this happens everyday, kind of voice.
I laugh nervously. "I think you should do that part! You sound like you know what you're talking about and I might just lick the wrong part!" I say wondering when she'll get to the punch line of this bad joke! I don't want the thing to die or anything, but that's asking a little much....even for a squirrel!
"No!!!! You need to use warm water and a cotton swab, or your finger to mimic the mom licking him." "Phew!" I thought you were pulling some kind of sick joke on me or something!"
Thankfully, she contacted a person who just happend to be working from home and could rush right over to come and warm, feed and pee the squirrel! You can't even imagine how much relief I was feeling when I found out there was someone to take over this job!
After a quick look, it turns out it was dehydrated, in need of rehydration with a homemade concoction of the equivalent of squirrel pedialyte, and then formula, as well as a good peeing when all else was done. A little damage to the tip of it's tail was the only visable injury.
Although I was worried about harming it by bringing it home in a Dora knapsack on my bike....it turns out I made the right decision. It would have died otherwise for sure. At least now, God willing, it will have a chance to pull through.
One more squirrel may safely roam the earth to pick though the garbage and reek havoc in the neighbourhood....next to mine, if all goes well. I'm sure the people there all appreciate my contribution. Woo Hoo! I think....