Saturday, June 26, 2010


I'm working on another blog to share in the next day or so. Yay, I am alive. I just have this new small person who depends on me for things like food & butt cleaning, so I'm a tad busy. But I did want to go ahead & share this.

My baby? He's a flipping supermodel.



I saw those posted by my person photographer, Valarie, & I seriously thought, "That is one gorgeous baby!" then I was thrilled when I realized "Holy shit, that is MY baby!"

You can click her name above to read the experience, as well as click her links to all the wonderful pictures she took (I'm going to stalk her & learn from her amazing photo skills, she just doesn't know it yet).

And, of course, how great is this one?


Through Valarie, we found out about a special event going on during the opening weekend of Toy Story 3, which means that Jules also got to meet the hero of his life...BUZZ LIGHTYEAR!


Buzz looked a little funny, but not nearly as bad as other characters I've seen before.

Speaking of Jules, he's a fan of Blair's.


He comes into a room where Blair is & announces, "Hi Blair, it's me." It's adorable.

Of course my lame sense of humor doesn't end just because a baby is attached to my boob several times a day. I did this.


Even Blair is thinking "oh my."

It's not a professional picture by any means, but I took this & really liked it.


He's exactly a week old there, after his first doctors appointment.

Of course, I take various shots of a baby in the same spot because I'm a parent & that's just what I do. Eventually he woke up & I got a funny shocked expression from him. My friend, Liz, took it to the next level though by adding a nice caption.


I was sad that I didn't think of that. So not only do I need to learn skills from Valarie, but I need to learn caption skills from Liz.

My to do just keeps getting longer.

But I promise the upcoming blog post is almost done. So yay, one thing done. Almost. Kinda sorta. Eventually.

I have mentioned I have this little thing living with me now, right? Just checking. I still can't believe it most of the time myself.

Monday, June 14, 2010

Frequently asked questions about the past however many days & hours.

When I say frequently asked questions, please note most of these are questions I ask myself or on a whim decide other people are curious about. I'll just pretend others are asking.

What awful thing happened for you to have a c-section?!

Nothing, nothing at all. Really. At the risk of losing my hippy natural mother card, I will now admit to the world that I have added to the stats I hate of elective c-sections. I like to think my reasons were better than some, especially since I've survived vaginal deliveries before so I obviously wasn't electing to save my vagina a traumatic experience. My optional section came purely out of fear. In the defense of my OB who was willing to do an elective section, he didn't try to scare me or even talk me into it. I'd mentioned it in passing once before, when delivery date came near it came up again & he let me know that if I was serious, he'd be willing to gut me open like a fish. And that's what we ended up doing. Long labors are a part of my life, my last two were 24 & 26 hours, & during the first with Jules the same doctor could have cut me open, other doctors would have, but he held off because he didn't want to have to do it if he didn't have to. Jules had alot of problems during the induction & I didn't want to stress The Blair out. And when he was "sluggish" the day before that really made me decide that I didn't want to risk stressing him out. My biggest fear of a c-section was having one after attempting labor & delivery. If it makes me get any hippy cred back, I still plan to cloth diaper & we didn't get Blair circumcised. Yay!

So how is a c-section different compared to the other births?
Well, I didn't break a sweat & I felt nothing. Other than that, it's comparing apples to oranges. Totally different following a vaginal birth & totally different recovery. I had rough recoveries previously so I can't say that I think one is an easier recovery than the other, just different. Of course, compared to others I must say that my section recovery has been super easy. I was out of bed just over 12 hours he was born, it didn't hurt to get out of bed & after the first time I was in & out without any assistance. Everyone has raved about my incision like it's the best thing on earth. I've not seen it because I really don't want to right now. I'm weird like that. The worse part was when my BP dropped after my spinal, which I was warned would happen. There was one point where I thought I'd spend the entire surgery throwing up, but thankfully I complained in time & they gave me something to send my BP back up so that worked before I puked everywhere. Good times.

How do people treat you when you're having a baby after you've had a dead baby?
Everyone is really nice. Like, really nice. I felt like patient of the day when I went in & we were all getting ready to look at my insides. Everyone joked around, to some people it may have been an alarming amount. I'm not sure how many people would enjoy hearing their surgical team discuss vodka. Even worse was my doctors choice in music on his ipod. My baby was pulled out during a Dave Matthews Band song. And as I waited my chance to see him for real (pulling a curtain down doesn't count), I was subjected to Sugaray's "Every Morning."

So how did The Blair do?
Fine, obviously. He cried for less than 5 seconds after he was born. He looked around like he wasn't sure about this whole thing the entire time I saw him. I offered to let him go to the nursery while I was still in the OR getting glued back together because he was having some temp problems which lead to some funny barking noises during his breathing. I'd hoped the sooner they got him warmed, the sooner I'd get him back. My mistake, because they actually ended up keeping him until around 11 or a little after. That made me sad.

Hey, speaking of sad, how were you?

I was, well, sad. I have this odd experience of feeling like I'm being unfair to either Blair or Joel, depending on my mood at the time. When I'm sad for Joel & wishing things with him were different, I feel like I'm saying Blair shouldn't happen. When I'm happy with Blair, I feel like I'm saying it's good how things with Joel worked out. I know that neither are really true, but it still sucks. And of course the drama I had with the parents sure didn't help matters.

Hey, speaking of those folks, how are things there?
Bitter. I decided during surgery that when we were out I'd have Adam call them & tell them we were alive. He did, no answer. He called a couple times with no luck & their machine wouldn't even pick up. When he went out for something to eat later I decided to do the same myself with the same luck. So I called a cell phone & left a message there. Soon after, right when a nurse came in, I got a call back from my mother & I tell her I have to call her back because a nurse just came in. I call back a few minutes later & get my dad. He's about as warm & loving as a rock in the phone call. I end up trying to have some emotional moment with him since he complains I never do & tell him I'm sad. When he ask why, I guess he thought he was going to get some heartfelt apology for the evils I'd done in my life toward them, but when I instead told him it was because of the baby issues & not getting to even hold him yet, he seemed dismissive again & went on with life. Nothing from them the entire time I was in the hospital, I went ahead & called & left a message about us getting out a couple hours before we went home. Late last night I get a call back from my dad telling me he was calling to check in. Nice, I thought. Then about 20 seconds later he is wanting something we borrowed earlier this week back, tells me to just sit it outside & he'll be by early the next morning to get it. I decided to flat out ask if they were going to want to see the baby & he basically said no. I forget the exact comment, but it was something along the lines of "well, we don't know if we will." I get off the phone & think I'm sad for about 10 seconds, then realize that emotion is anger, not sadness. How anyone can not want to see a baby is beyond me, how anyone can not want to see a living baby after what we all went through last year...I can't even put into words. I did find out through family today that the parents are talking to the family like nothing is going on, as in like I just didn't have a baby basically, & from what I gather lots of family thinks they are asses for it. So not all of my family is insane.

What the hell is wrong with your family?
I really have no idea. Feel free to submit your ideas.

Where did Jules end up while you were in the OR listening to your doctor talk about vodka?
He was with my cousin & his wife. Mainly the wife since she's the one who was home 99% of the time. They have 2 kids of their own, one a year older than Jules & one the same age. A good time was had by all. She totally saved us, she even took off work for us & came to pick him up at like 5am. And drove him back & forth to the hospital a couple times while we were there. Her mom even went out shopping & got him juice & spiderman snacks. Oh, & Buzz Lightyear sunglasses. Crying happened when Jules finally went home with dad, mainly from the little girl Jules age. So we have to plan a sleep over of our own in the future. Seriously though, I owe them big time. I can't even explain how much I appreciate them for it. I honestly don't think I've had anyone do anything so short notice, on their own (she called into work as soon as she heard we may need help), & without any strings attached.

How is Jules doing as a big brother?
OK, I'll admit it, I was worried. He was totally not into this baby idea. He refused to talk about it, look at any baby stuff, & I just kept seeing him throwing himself down screaming from day one. He did not though. He has been very cool about everything. His life really hasn't changed at all, he still does everything & acts the exact same, only now he ask "where is the baby" or "where is Blair?" There was the time in the hospital that he was unhappy that Adam held him & announced "that's mommys baby" which I enjoyed. Everything else is daddy's, so I'll take what I can get. But he's great with Blair, shows him his Buzz Lightyear's & offered him a fry tonight. Let's hope that continues.

Um, I read this blog because you're funny, did anything funny or annoying happen while you were at the hospital or something?
Well, it's not funny but I do wonder why people think the hospital is restful. Seriously, they come in & out all night long. The first night I was there I didn't have to pee & my pee loving nurse wasn't happy about that, so she stayed on my ass all night long with the threat of a cath even though she "hated to have to do that" to me if I didn't pee enough by one time, then another time. Because, you know, as a patient I can't refuse anything. Yeah, sure. SO I was kept up all night long to take in fluids so I could pee & be left alone. The a physicians assistant woke me up after an hour of sleep by being 4 inches away from my face & poking me. This was like 7am. She then complained I hadn't been up enough which I thought was funny because some nurses told me I didn't even have to try to get up until the 24 hour mark. Again, I didn't get out of bed until 10pm the night before, so I guess I was suppose to be up walking the hallways while I was taking in gallons of fluids to try to pee. Then the fact that I was going to make fun of a doctor because he looked about like a 9th grader...then he walked up & introduced himself as our babys doctor. Now, I'd seen this guy once about 3 years ago myself (he's a family doctor) & I've seen his picture hanging in the office. Dude looked like he was 40 all these times. I really have no idea what on earth happened to him, but he managed to de-age himself & make himself look like he's a kid my husband had in class last year. He asked what high schools we went to, Adam made the observation that maybe he wanted to check his basketball schedule. I did appreciate he had no lecture or parenting advice. Our ped with Jules suggested cry it out even with a newborn. And even this time nurses popped in with their random thoughts like "'s noon & your curtains aren't open, he's going to get his days & nights mixed up" while looking at us sad. If she'd pressed it I'd planned on telling her I just got up since I was up all night trying to drink enough to pee, but she didn't. Then before we left there was that weird moment where a nurse was all excited & said, "you get to take one home this time!" Nice thought, but it was like one of those "wtf?" moments.

So, you like that baby you got there?
Before he was born I was looking at baby gyms. I couldn't believe they wanted me to pay $60 or more for a mat with some dangling toys that we'd lose or ruin eventually, which is why we don't have the one we had with Jules anymore. I didn't get one, I didn't see the point. Now that he's born, I want to not buy one, but about 10 of them. And I want to sew them all together to make one huge baby activity mat for our house. And considering the husband is still waiting for me to saw a hole in the crotch of a pair of his dress pants since 2006, that should tell you how much I like this baby. The fact that I'm willing to sew or do anything domestic in an appropriate time frame says alot.

I also want to go out. I have no where to go & even though recovery is fantastic I really doubt I need to go out on the town, but I feel as though I should go out & show the world this amazing creature. He's that special, I feel bad keeping him away from the public. I feel like we should go on top of a mountain & lift him above the heads of the masses while Elton John sings "The Circle of Life" live & in person behind us.'re on pain medication, aren't you?
Yes, yes I am.

Anything else you'd like to mention?
Yeah, Baby Cocoons are weird & I'm going to devote a blog to them shortly. Same as my bathroom project gone very wrong. I also like to tell everyone that I love my Baby K'Tan Carrier. I got one hoping it wouldn't suck, decided to try it today just so I could move around the house hands free & it's the most awesome baby product I've ever tried. I'm suddenly not scared to leave the house...yes, even though I want to leave the house (my duty to share this wonderful creature if you'll remember) I still find the thought kinda scary. I also ordered a breast pump. I've never breastfed a baby until now & I have to admit I regret not doing it before. I seem to have another one of those way easy experiences compared to others (I have nipples of steel & a baby born to latch perfectly), but I highly recommend giving it at least a shot. I will admit he's gotten 2 bottles of formula the day we came home. I'd try to nurse, get nothing even trying to myself, & he hadn't had any wet diapers all day (this is like 4pm at this point, last wet diaper was like 3am), so I gave him a sample from the OB's office. He had both of those that evening & magically my milk came in the next morning. I actually had Adam buy a small can of pre-made stuff, just in case, but none of it's been used. So I'll never be able to say he was exclusively breastfed, but from here it looks really good for us. Well, really good besides those times I've sprayed him in the face with milk. Like...three times now. Oh, & I sprayed the wall in our bedroom. Oops. And, like I said, I have a breast pump on it's way so that should bring a nice, fun blog because at first I was totally creeped out by the thought of pumping, but now I think I'd like to have some extra just in case of whatever & so I can one day make Adam get up at 6am to feed him. I'm sure attaching a suction device to my breast will create great amusement. Adam may blog about that himself since he's kinda sotra obsessed with the idea of it. I mean hell, they brought the baby to me to nurse him the first time, it was time to "learn" how it's done, & he jumped up to stand at my chest to learn himself. He can't be that amazed by boobs, I think I've mentioned before that I show them all the time. Maybe he'll somehow induce his own lactation. That would be fun. And not in a creepy way.

I also want to say thanks for everything from everyone. I've not had the time to thank everyone for everything, from comments to messages to even facebook statuses, but it means alot. You people rule.

And in my effort to share the glory that is this baby...

Thursday, June 10, 2010

The Blair

Announcing The Blair.


Blair Owen Culver. Born via csection, 6/10/10, at 8:18am. He weighs 7lbs 2ozs & is 20 1/2 inches long.

He has lots of hair & loves to grunt & groan. And breastfeed. The boy loves boob.

I am well. Tired, but well.

Everyone at the hospital has been really nice, they all know about Joel so I'm not sure if that comes into play or not but who cares, they are nice. That's the important thing.

I did have to wait a couple hours to even hold him, which sucked. He was having some issues keeping his temp up, then that would effect his breathing. But he eventually warmed up to life outside the womb & I had him with me by 11-ish. Sure, not a huge chuck of time, but huge enough.

Not to brag, but my baby rocks.

That is all for now.

I'm having a baby.

No, I'm not an idiot & just happened to finally look down & realize I'm pregnant. I'm not that blonde.

I had a funny blog coming up about out bathroom. Yeah, sounds exciting I know, but it was amusing fail after amusing fail of trying to lay tile. From mold to primer...wasn't easy. But after todays doctors appointment, that story moves to the back burner.

No major worries. Baby was "sluggish" during his ultrasound which wasn't a huge surprise to me because lately, on some days, he's not been as active. Makes me paranoid, of course, but when a professional looks at you & also sees it, it makes you go from paranoia to panic pretty damn fast. He eventually perks up enough to pass his test, but the tech still noted that he was sluggish & this was around the same time Joel got sluggish. So I wait for my doctor. I tell the nurse when I'm called back that I'd been a little worried off & on anyway, & the ultrasound didn't help. Doctor comes in & basically says we have two options. OK, not basically, we have two options. First, instead of not being seen again until the 17th when delivery was set, I could come in Friday & Monday to get more ultrasounds like I've been doing & keep the 17th date. Or, decide we're happy that I've made it to 38 weeks & go for it tomorrow. He did warn me that not all babies are 100% cooked & he may need some oxygen assistance if we opt for that.

I asked him if oxygen could be done easily. He looks at me weird & tells me yes. I then ask if he's dead Monday when I come back, what can they do for me.

Obviously, we made the decision to deliver tomorrow on the 10th. They aren't worried really, but did offer to admit me today if I wanted to be monitored until morning. I did pass on that, but I did say if I got worried I'd be showing up at the hospital tonight & he said that was fine.

No, I'm not freaked out. No, I'm not nervous. I feel really weird about going to the hospital & knowing I'll be handed a live baby. I've still not really grasped that concept yet.

I'd wish I'd posted this earlier when life was more uplifting & I was less annoyed, but I figured I'd be in the clear. I mean, how can the night before you have your living baby after a dead baby be bad? Then I spoke to my parents & it was just all...well, the same.

They were going to watch Jules for us while I was in the hospital delivering a baby tomorrow. I'm not sure what really happened, I told my mom I'd be there by 6 but they shouldn't worry about being there until like 10 or 10:30 since I didn't want them to wake Jules up & make him miserable all day. She didn't like that, it was clear in her voice. Honestly, she didn't even seem happy about the idea of the baby anyway. I don't think they even asked why the date was moved up. My mom then told me they'd be late anyway tomorrow & I told her not to be late, I wanted my kid there at a certain time. She gets more annoyed. I finally told my mom to stop with her crappy attitude she'd had for the past few days. She gets defensive & eventually gets angry. Adam hears me upset so he comes down & actually ask for the phone, but I go on with my convo as I'm trying to stay calm but, well, crying on my couch. I forget what she said that was insane, but it was totally something off the wall & I just blurt it out to Adam, she starts yelling at me that I'm lying to Adam & telling him they are saying they aren't bringing Jules over in the morning, which had nothing to do with what I said. She then told me she was done talking to me & was going to hang up & not talk to me anymore tonight. That's when I flip out because I did mention she's got my 2 year old, right? Telling me you're not talking to me anymore when you have my kid...? Yeah, think again. When Adam head that, he left to go get him again.

My mom ends up throwing the phone down to my dad who gets on & is riding me about the 10:30 thing again. I tell him it's got nothing to do with 10:30, it's because I asked her to stop being so crappy & how she was out of line telling me she wasn't going to talk to me anymore when they have my kid with them. The phone eventually disconnected & he didn't call back until several minutes later, which I just realized why & I'll get to that shortly.

I call Adam & tell him what's gone down since he left. Eventually my dad beeps in & I take in. He eventually goes into this thing about how they've talked about it & think I have emotional problems (go ahead & blink a few times at that one), how I'm childish with my mom (blink so more), & that I manipulate everything they say. He then continues about how I don't respect him (wha...?) & that I should bend over &...then he kinda trailed off rambling & ended up speaking up again at the "to thank me for everything I've done in 20-some years" so I think he means I'm suppose to kiss his ass to show my appreciation to him. He then goes into how he's got alot of things to get off his cheat that he's held back for years & "after this is all said & over with" talking about, you know, my baby being born, he's making me go to therapy or something to tell me. I get pissed off & tell him if he's going to bring shit like that up to just say it no, which he refuses. About that time Adam gets there, which I guess he didn't know about until then, & he hangs up on me.

I eventually get ahold of Adam who tells me he's talking to them & I tell him to stop, he doesn't know what all has been said since to me & I want him to stop & walk out now. He does.

He drops interesting bombshells on me. Basically, most of the convo they had with him was to tell him how much I suck at life & always have. My dad confesses to him, as "proof," that he's recorded every phone convo I had while I lived with them, I guess since like high school. And how he was able to read my convos online I guess until I moved in with Adam in 2006, which means they had something on my computer to track what I was saying. And he even admits they've recorded every convo I've had with my mom for however long. And he seems to think this is totally fine. They've bugged their phones & my computer for over 10 years & see it as nothing but proof of who I am, which is a meanie. They even told Adam to come home & ask me about people who they claim I've lied to about my mom. This goes back to my convo earlier with my dad when I was "disconnected." I'm guessing my mom went to start whatever they use to record things & pushed the wrong buttons.

To be honest, the more I think about that the more scared I get because, well, why are you taping me? And going on & on about how it's unfair that I'm taking Jules from you. That was the other thing, they weren't upset that I'm going through childbirth tomorrow with out them, that this makes it unlikey they'll be at the hospital when Blair is born, or anything else, they were just upset they weren't getting to keep Jules. Which yeah, I understand, but there are other things involved here.

So here I am, the night before having a baby & dealing with this insanity. Literally...insanity.

But hey, fuck it. I'm having a baby. And I'm not bat shit crazy, with a stock pile of 10 years of phone convos stored away in my house somewhere to make me feel right. And to me, right behind having a living baby, that's pretty damn important to have in life.

I'm now going to go boil a pacifier. And bask in the glory of know first hand how not to parent or treat your children, be it little ones or grown up ones.

By the time some of you read this, I'll have posted pictures of a baby. Aren't you glad you got to see those before dealing with this craziness?

Yay for adding a crazy people label. Next, a Blair label.

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Two stories in one...exciting!

I've an an eventful week.

And I'm not even talking about the day my son got black play doh all over everything while I went to pee, making it look like BP had stopped in my house.

Side note...BLACK play doh? Or the white? Who thought these up? I go from thinking there has been an oil spill or my sons diaper is leaking poop to my cats hacked up something gross. Another side note, I have a cat who once hacked up an entire the middle of my living room. Gross, yet impressive.

Anyway, none of this matters. I matter, dammit, so let's get to that.

How did you spend memorial day? Me? I spent the start of mine in the hospital. Everything is fine, no need to panic.

Around 9pm I was walking into a large chain store that will remain nameless. Partly because I don't want to name it because of the current situation (which I'll get to) & partly because I'm really ashamed to say I was there at all. But you should be able to figure it out because they are EVERYWHERE. And they are open 24 hours. And it's not a Target. It has walls. It's a mart basically.

My hints are really not obvious at all, huh?

Anyway, the husband takes Jules to the bathroom for a diaper change. I walk through the construction site that is this store in the middle of remodeling, going to the section Adam is going to meet me at. As I continue my walk, I lift my left foot up & my right foot, well, violently goes out from under me. I slip. I fall. I fall hard...damn hard. I'm not trying to be dramatic, but I've really never fallen as hard as I did then. I go straight down, trying to catch myself, end up on my hands & knees but when you're 9 months pregnant your stomach sticks out further than your knees. I whacked the right side of my stomach pretty good. A couple employees are there at their job at the entrance doors, but they don't even do anything or say anything. A couple behind me freak out & ask if I'm alright. I tell them I am, left myself up & look around as I'm doing it. At that point, I see a few little pieces of cardboard on the floor, one a couple feet behind me. I guess then that I'd stepped on that with my right foot & when all of my weight was on it, it caused me foot to slide on the tile. Lovely.

Pain. I have pain. It hurts to walk, there is a stabbing pain where my stomach hit. I call Adam on his cell...twice...but he always has the damn thing on silent so he doesn't answer. I decided to talk a couple aisles over to where we are suppose to meet. He comes, I tell him what happened. Honestly, I want to walk it off & go on with life because I know I'll end up in the hospital & it was the last place I wanted to go. After a few minutes though I agree it needs to be done & I call my doctors office after hours number. We walk over the customer service after that, I sit down, & he goes to tell a cashier since there is no one there. I get a call back from a nurse & as I sat there on the phone I started getting people gather around me. I think I had like 5 or 6 people around me, I started to wonder if they are going to beat me up.

This isn't the amusing part of the story obviously, so I'll cut to the chase. Go to the hospital get monitored a few hours, get sent home. Though I have sore shoulders, bruises on my knees, & a stomach that still has a stabbing pain where it hit when I walk or do too much now. A report was filled out. An insurance company called after a couple days.

This is where the story gets amusing.

When I call the lady back, I tell her who I am & she blurts out all panicked, "THIS IS NOT A GOOD TIME!" then keeps telling me she'll call me back in 15 minutes. Um, OK. She calls me back & since I tell her yes, I'd like this mart to pay my medical bill that I will receive because of them. Then the process starts. Oh, the process.

She goes through the first round of "why this could be your fault" questions. I will now say NONE of these questions or comments are a joke. Some will seem made up, but they are not. Do I wear glasses, am I sure I don't need them, do I use a cane, should I be using a cane for any reason? Who drove to the store? What had we planned to buy at the store? Where is that section? Then she debated with me about why that section shouldn't be there & I had to, again, remind her it was all under construction & things were basically a clutterfuck. Why wasn't my husband with me? When I noticed that cardboard, why didn't I pick it up & keep it with me? What did the tile look like that I landed on? I really babbled about that one because I just knew it was the generic tile found in stores. I wanted to just blurt out, "shouldn't you know what it looks like, haven't you ever been in one of these places?!" Of course like 10 minutes after this happened they ripped up the tile, so I don't think it matters anymore. If the hospital was really concerned, why didn't they do a pelvic exam? Since I'd had a doctors appointment since, why didn't he do a pelvic exam if I fell & had pain? I finally told her I fell on my stomach, not my vagina, so a pelvic really couldn't tell them anything, nor did I had symptoms to warrant them looking up my fun factory (OK, I didn't call it a fun factory). Do I think this mart is responsible? Do I really think they are? Why? Why do I expect them to pay a bill related to my pregnancy? Who drove me home right after we left the mart? That was a trick question, btw, because we went to the hospital right after the store. I laugh at your trickery, woman! She asked if my pregnancy was high risk, I said yes & she asked why. I fumbled around before finally saying, "it's considered poor OB history...ummmm...I had a full term stillbirth a year ago." Her response? "Oh, OK, good..."

*blink blink*

She then told me they had to wait to get pictures & video in to see if it was there fault. Then she went into my outfit. My white shirt. THE PART IN MY HAIR. We spent 5 minutes debating if it was a side or middle part. So please lady, do not tell me you're not looking at SOMETHING with me in it since you're debating where you see the part in my hair.

In the end, she basically told me I was full of shit. That I must have tripped myself up or something because if you slip, you fall backwards, not forward like I did. I said that was true in some cases, depending on when in your step you slip, but she also needs to remember that I'm NINE MONTHS PREGNANT with a huge weight of baby on my front. That kinda throws your landing direction off.

She is suppose to call me back by Wednesday & let me know if they plan on covering the bill. I'm not holding my breath for that great of a response, but hey, I could be wrong. She could have tried to call bullshit to get me to "crack." Because, you know, dead baby moms go around throwing themselves down belly first onto hard tile just to sue people.

Oh, & I still have my bruises, my shoulders are still sore, & my right elbow started hurting a couple days later & still hurts when it's extended. And doing too much walking equals that damn pain again. So yay, now it hurts to get up to pee. And, again, I did this to myself? Suuuure.

The next story happened on Thursday. It's also given me reason to add a new label for post...crazy people. One I should have had all along if you ask me.

I get a knock on my door Thursday afternoon. Animal control.

Now, when you have around 25435 pets, animal control can be a bit scary. I was afraid someone reported me for hoarding pregnant cats. But he's a nice guy, tells me who he is & tells me they've had a complaint over my large dog, who is reportedly barking & biting at smaller dogs through my fence & someone is concerned he's a vicious dog. I think he means Murphy, because she's the dog who is like 55lbs of crazy puppy. I also instantly decide that the complaint came from crazy tarp lady, since her dogs go nuts at my dogs through the divides in her tarp & since the dogs are only in the backyard, that's the only other dogs they could have access to.

I tell him she's right here, since she was right by me at the door. He says, "No, actually, I mean your rotti mix." I stare at him. He continues, "your black & tan dog." I say, "Um, OK" & move more so he can see my other dog. I move Murphy so he can see my other dog. My black & tan vicious rotti mix. you know what a ROTTWEILER is? Click the link to find out. This will be here when you get back.

Welcome back.

My dog is named Buddy. I call him Buddy Dog.

I warn you, what you are about to see could be graphic, as he is one beastly beast.


Yes, I'm doing this in parts to not scare you peeps.




*blink blink*

Of course, I lie about that picture. He's usually in this position.


I know, this is pretty anti-climatic if you wanted to see a beast. Maybe this picture will make him look more badass.


I measured him.


He hits 16 inches if I'm being generous. There was a reason I wanted to call him Danny Devito, but he already came with the name Buddy. Original, huh?


If he stretches, he can hit 20.

He sleeps alot.


He only wakes up for some things.


Like cake.


Buddy isn't exactly our "big dog."


The guy then ask if I have another black & tan dog. I assure him I don't & offer to let him look in the yard or something. He kinda laughs & tells me it's fine, he'll dismiss the report as unfounded. I tell him the vet guess corgi mix, he tells me the colors are right for a rotti, but "everything else is just very wrong."

Yes, yes it is.

Buddy is a dog who sleeps, has no testicles, & wears a "fashion collar." He doesn't even eat hard food.


Run for your lives. You can tell by his face that he's very excitable.

He has a gut.


When you see something that looks like a viscous dog, please let me know.

Buddy wouldn't hurt a kitten.

How do I know?


There is a picture with a kitten.

I decided to take pictures of Buddy with bigger, more dangerous objects.

Like a pillow.


If hit the right way, they can hurt like a bitch.

My purse.


If you own a purse, you know how dangerous they can be.

Elmo Live.


OK, he's not smaller than Elmo, but if you know Elmo you know there is a lot of psychological torment behind that little red guy.

Our laundry hamper.


This will stay in the way & make me mad at my husband because he won't take it upstairs, surely dooming our marriage much like Buddy Dog dooms humanity.

Eight cans of cat food.


Now, this doesn't seem deadly, but get cans of cat food out in a house full of cats & see what happens. You'll be lucky to survive.

A decorative pear my mother gave me.


Sure, he's not bigger, but it does out ugly him.

The new giant, tacky daisy in my bathroom.


Oh, he also sleeps there. With big, tacky daises. On a fluffy dog bed.

He is religious.


This means he'll knock on your door all the time to sell you his religion. Eek!

I guess he's viscous...


with pink toys.

I did mention he likes cake, right?


Personally I think Murphy is more scary.


She's constantly liking me, I think she's checking my flavor for eating readiness.

So I've decided that my neighbor is nuts. Officially.

And that Adam can't act.


If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go continue the count down until June 17th. And find some more floors to throw myself into.


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