33tekfan’s Weblog

Last night I was convinced I was either hallucinating or there were aliens tracking my every move via my dog.

I was very restless after going to bed so I was about to get up and use the bathroom, get a drink of water, flip my pillow to the cool side…but as I was rolling over and opening my eyes I saw a flash of light in our bedroom. I reached for my glasses (because I am blind as a bat without them)…took a look around the room, looked out the window and saw nothing. Except out of the corner of my eye - another flash.

WTF?

I got back in bed, and contemplated my next move. This is the point at which I thought I might be hallucinating. I have been fighting a migraine for a couple of days, and I had taken two pain pills over the course of the last two days. Since we have a habit of overmedicating here at Casa Crazy, I thought maybe I had overdone the pain pills. 

As the flashes continued, I tried to pinpoint where they were coming from.  I realized one was RIGHT NEXT TO ME ON THE BED.  Except…it seemed to be coming from under the covers…where the Hairless Chinese Crested sleeps.  (Yeah…he sleeps with us, under the covers…all the dogs sleep with us because we’re idiots and they are spoiled.  Don’t judge.  He’s the only one who sleeps under the covers because, well, he has no hair.)  So anyway…the dog is flashing.  Aliens have planted a tracking device in our dog - which, if you’ve seen him IRL, makes PERFECT sense and explains a lot.

Did I mention I haven’t been sleeping well AND I’ve been fighting a migraine?  It’s time to call in the big guns.

Me:  Honey, are you awake?  (Shaking him just in case he isn’t…)

P-Man:  What?  What’s wrong?  What is it?

Me:  There’s lights flashing in our room.

P-Man:  Huh?

Me:  Flashes. Of. Lights. In. Our. Room.  Just wait - you’ll see one.

Cricket, cricket, cricket.

Me:  There!  Did you see that?  And here!  On our bed - another one!

Him: Yeah.  (He reaches over for the light now)

Him:  It’s a lightning bug.

Me:  No.  No it isn’t.  It wasn’t just in one spot.  Except for the one under the covers which is clearly an implanted tracking device.

Him:  No, it’s lightning bugs.  (As he reached out and traps one that is flying by…and turns back the covers to reveal the one on the back of the dog….)

Me:  Oh.  Um.  Well.  Look at that!  Lightning bugs!  Heh heh heh.  Um…sorry for waking you up for that.

Him:  Goodnight honey.

I am such a loser.

Light comes to us unexpectedly and obliquely.  Perhaps it amuses the gods to try us.  They want to see whether we are asleep.  ~H.M. Tomlinson

Our yellow lab has a drug problem.

Let me start from the beginning.  He’s always been a bit, um, high strung.  Loud noises bother him - especially thunder.  A thunder storm usually finds him crouched beneath my desk.

Lately, however, he has gotten MUCH worse.  Along with the crouching comes shaking.  And panting.  And drooling.  And vomit.  Oh yes.  He has himself worked into such a tizzy that his stomach gets upset and he throws up.  But that’s only if he eats in the first place which he only does if the Postman is kneeling beside him, coaxing him - because OH MY GOD I THINK IT MIGHT BE THUNDERING IN BRAZIL.

This last week has brought a steady stream of evening thunder showers - with no signs of it letting up in at least the next week, according to radar.  The Postman decided to ask the vet if they had tranquilizers for just such an occasion.  They provided us with 2 pills because a) he needs a check up so they will give us more at his appointment, and b) they want to make sure they work before they give us a larger supply.  They work.

The Postman gave him one the other night while the kids and I were out.  When we walked in the house about 1/2 an hour later, he had trouble standing when he came out to greet us.  Half an hour after that he had to be LIFTED on to the bed, where he promptly passed out.  2 hours later he could not rouse himself enough to even stand to go out to pee before we went to bed.  The Postman lifted him off the bed, set him on the floor, and he slumped to the ground.  We rolled him onto a blanket and went to bed.

Except I couldn’t sleep.  Because what if he didn’t come out of it?  What if we killed our dog with tranquilizers?  Oh my god, how would we tell the kids?  So I was up, checking on him, and bringing him water - because we all know how muck mouth can set it when we are stoned.  I mean…nevermind.  He would lift his head to drink a few sips, then rest his chin on the edge of the bowl as if it was just too much effort to set it back down on the blanket.  Finally, at 3:00AM we heard him stir and stand up.  He went outside to pee and stumbled back up the steps.  He went to his usual sleeping spot on the floor on my side of the bed. 

By the time morning came, he was almost himself again - at least able to stand and walk and wag his tail.

We’re going with half a pill next time.

Oh…and did I mention that we DID get a thunder storm that night?  He didn’t care - he was too stoned.

All I need are some tasty waves, a cool buzz, and I’m fine. ~ Jeff Spicoli, Fast Times at Ridgemont High

I don’t know who to attribute that to, but it’s the punchline to this joke: How do rednecks start a fairy tale? I’ve always wanted to use it but never had an opportunity. Until now. Because really - y’all ain’t gonna believe this shit.

Disclaimer: This is a story about vomit. It is detailed. If it will make you queasy or light-headed, PLEASE NAVIGATE AWAY FROM THIS PAGE. NOW.

I do not handle vomit well at all. My children’s father is some sort of vomit super hero…I have actually witnessed him cupping his hands below our daughter’s chin when she has announced she is going to be sick. As if he is going to catch whatever might come up. The mere thought of that makes ME queasy. I would be one of those people who would have navigated away when I read the disclaimer.

As stated in my earlier post, my son stayed home from school today because of an upset tummy. That boy can will himself not to throw up. Honestly, he can. The first time that child threw up was right before Christmas last year. He was 8 years old before that ever happened to him and it affected him in a deep negative manner.

His first wave of nausea came around 7:30 this morning during his shower. He called for me and I went in to the bathroom where I found him kneeling in front of the toilet, heaving. Just the motion - no sound, no vomit. He didn’t want to go to school because he was afraid he might be sick there, so he hung out on the couch all day. Occasionally he would go in to the bathroom and call for me and we would repeat the scenario from this morning. He took sips of ginger ale and had a bit of chicken soup for lunch.

Dinner rolled around. We had a yummy mozzarella chicken so I cooked plain noodles to put it over, also knowing he might want something to eat. He said he was hungry so he did indeed have just a small plate of plain noodles. About 2 hours later he wanted some more plain noodles so I got him a small bowl. Then he wanted a fruit ice. No problem…and I’m happy that he wants to try to eat something.

Off and on through the day I would ask him how he was feeling and he would say he wasn’t feeling too bad but he wasn’t feeling great either. He carried a bucket with him everywhere…every trip to the bathroom (just in case he needed it on the way)…it was next to him on the couch, he put it on a chair next to him when he played on the computer for a bit. You get the idea.

Bedtime rolled around. He pulled his trashcan to the edge of his bed and placed the bucket on it so it was RIGHT THERE NEXT TO HIM.

P-Man and I watched some tv then started to get ready for bed ourselves. He headed outside with the dogs, I fed the cats and looked in on the kids who were both sound asleep. I went in to my bathroom and was in the process of washing my face when I heard the first whimper. This was no less than 2 minutes after I verified that both kids were fast asleep. I stopped what I was doing for a moment and said “Captain?” No reply. Thinking the dogs must have made the sound when they came into the bedroom, I ignored it. Then I heard it again and it was the unmistakable sound of my child whimpering. I open the door to see…vomit. Lots of it. On my bedroom floor. It took me a few seconds to realize it was still coming. With no god damned bucket in sight. In my panic to get him to the toilet, the next wave leaves a trail through my bathroom, even in the heating vent. By the time he gets to the toilet, he’s done. Fantastic. The kid can actually will himself not to throw up for 14 hours while he is awake. Apparently he has not mastered controlling his will while he is asleep.

I turn on the shower and get him in there since it was, literally, everywhere. As he was in the shower, P-Man and I started the clean up process. (Thank god for him. I can honestly say I do not expect him to help with this part of the step-parenting. I mean, really…cleaning up vomit?)

I think we’ve done a pretty good job. I don’t smell it in the bedroom or the bathroom. My son is again camped out on the couch (with the bucket once again next to him.), and I tell P-Man that I am going to stay out here with him until he’s ready for bed. So I bring a quilt out and start to settle in when I smell P-Man’s cologne. I assume it means he is trying to cover up a bad smell so I go back into our bedroom to ask him and he says he smelled something when he walked out of the bathroom into the bedroom.

We look all over and don’t see anything that might be causing the smell. We’ve obviously missed something, but neither of us see where.

Until I see this:

That is our Hairless Chinese Crested. Complete with jammies…’cause, well, he’s hairless. Except for those few scraggly tufts on his head and ears…and the end of his tail. He looks a bit like a troll doll but that’s a post from another time.

Anyway, I see Harry (original, no?) perched proudly on our bed. Except that his hair is…well…sort of wet-ish and slicked down on the side of his head.

“Why is Harry’s head all wet?” I ask P-Man. I already know, without a doubt, why.

“What do you mean, his head is wet?” P-Man responds.

In my head: “Oh no, oh no, no no no, oh please NO.”

I bend forward to take a sniff as does P-Man. Oh. My. God. The Captain threw up on the dog.

So here we are at 2:00 AM. Clean bedroom, clean bathroom, clean dog. The captain fell asleep quickly on the couch and since I don’t want to just leave him out here in the living room, here I am as well.

The fun never ends. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

I think dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love. For me they are the role model for being alive. ~Gilda Radner (even when they’ve been thrown up on)

The Diva’s horse was very funny during her riding lesson on Monday. They have put a mirror up at the far end of the ring, and her horse had not been used in the ring since the mirror went up.

Sometimes my daughter has a hard time getting her horse to actually stay in the ring while they are riding. Not Monday. Her horse was VERY interested in the hunka hunka new horse that he kept seeing every time he approached the far end of the ring. It was hilarious.

They would ride toward that end, his ears would start to twitch, and he would head straight for the good lookin’ horse in the mirror. She would steer him away and he would go fairly willingly, with just the tiniest backward glance at the new kid.

Narcissistic bastard.

Horses and children, I often think, have a lot of the good sense there is in the world. ~Josephine Demott Robinson

The Diva had her riding lesson tonight. She fell off her horse. I wasn’t there when it happened, but apparently her horse got too close to the wall (in an indoor ring - it is Maine in December after all) and The Diva in her attempt to steer him away, lost her balance and fell. She didn’t hurt anything (well, she did bend a fingernail back and it bled slightly), she didn’t cry (although I’m told her eyes did well up a tad), and she got right back on the horse. I am proud of her.

When her instructor saw me come back in, she came right over to tell me what happened. I thought the worst at first - her horse can be temperamental. He thinks he’s smarter than his rider and he knows when he can take advantage of his rider. He’s almost bucked a couple of times when she’s been on him, so I immediately thought that’s what happened until her instructor said “No - she just lost her balance and fell.”

It finally stopped snowing this morning. School was delayed two hours. That’s probably a good thing - if this early season storm is any indication of the winter ahead of us, we’ll be using more than the allotted 5 snow days so saving them when we can is good planning!

Riding: The art of keeping a horse between you and the ground. ~Author Unknown

It is still snowing here tonight. I am guessing it started around 3:00 or 4:00 AM based on the amount on the ground when we woke up. That means it’s been snowing 14 or 15 hours. Nonstop. It varies in intensity but has not stopped all day. According to the forecast, it is supposed to continue through tomorrow or tomorrow night. I am starting to think there will be no school again tomorrow - or at least a delay. We shall see what the morning brings.

Speaking of no school, we had a very stress-free day here which was quite lovely. I managed to get quite a bit of work done; The Captain helped me shovel the deck and part of the dog pen and we took the two big dogs outside to play - our hound dog LOVES the snow!; the kids wrapped their presents for The Postman; they made ornaments for their teachers and grandparents (involving putting paint into clear glass ball ornaments and swirling it around to get a sort of tie dye effect); they baked a treat in The Diva’s Ea*sy Ba*ke Oven; they watched Spider*man 3 (while I worked); and now they are watching Ru*dolph’s Shiny New Year. It was so nice to have a day together without them being at each other’s throats every 5 minutes.

Now I must go because one of my favorite Christmas shows is on: The Year With*out a San*ta Claus. Those little heat misers crack me up every year.