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Yeah, there is some crap going on between Paladin and I.  Yeah, I know.  Surprise.  Surprise.  But, we’ve come to terms.  I got him talking.  It’s weird.  This is a man who never shuts up (sorry, hon…but you know you can keep up a conversation!) if the topic is politics or scifi or travel or the state of the world in general, and I discovered yesterday on our 3 hr. drive to Baton Rouge that he’s been holding things in.  How did that happen? 

We’ve been talking for 3 days, actually.  It started a few nights ago when I tried to open up to him about why I haven’t been rushing to the altar (the legal altar anyhow).  My supervisor, Chelsea came out for a visit last week (we’ll call her that because she could pass for Chelsea Handler ANY day…so much so that I have to stop myself from calling her that in person).  Chelsea and I got to talking about fertility issues (she can’t have any more children) and baby mama drama (she has it worse than me…if Paladin had the gall to still be helping Mull out with every little mini-tragedy for 4 yrs, it would be more than over…it would be “look who just lost his last ball” over).  She was talking about having guardianship of her neice for the first year and a half of the child’s life only to have the baby’s mother come back and take her (it’s a story I’ve seen unfold in my own family more than once…apparently, an unfit ho means jack to CPS any where in any state…as long as there’s somebody there trying to protect them, CPS ignores it until the kid is in the emergency room).  Chelsea said to me, “She was our blessing.”  It’s a phrase I’ve heard before, but for some reason, it hit me.  It made me think about what my blessing was, about who was most important to me, and about who in my life got ALL of me.  Sadly, I could only answer, Pascal. 

Paladin and I have been working on trust issues where the kids and Mull are concerned for our entire relationship.  At first, I waited it out.  I thought that with time he’d trust me to be his main supporter, his cheerleader, his blessing.  Instead, I’m just on the list.  I’ll be kind and say that I’m on the list NEXT to the children, but in truth, I feel that I’m beneath them.  I hate to be religious about it, but there’s no religion in the world that tells people to place their children above their significant other.  At best, and Paladin has said this more than once, we are supposed to be partners who then care for those children.  That’s what’s been said between the two of us, but as my post earlier this week pointed out, when we make decisions, he’s going off and ignoring them.  After a lot of talking (and he’s been saying some of this stuff for a long time and it just finally clicked for me), he explained that when we come to a decision he’s treating me as a General:  we conclude what the goal is and then he gets on the ground and adapts to the actual situation.  In other words, what I thought were decisions that we were making together was just me giving him advice.  I thought they were conclusions but they were just ideas we were brainstorming.  I called him on it.  That’s not a partnership.  That is why I haven’t trusted him on this issue (the ONLY trust issue I have with him).  When I ask him why he doesn’t trust me, he has no answer; there’s nothing he can point to.  In his words, “It’s nothing you’ve done.”  Every time this came up previously, he has taken it as me attacking the kids, as me being jealous of the kids.  I can’t say that I’ve never felt a twinge of jealousy where they are concerned but the jealousy I’ve felt was never over him; it was over being jealous that they aren’t mine too. 

The reason I haven’t been in a rush to make things legal is because I’ve seen his face when the test was negative and it brought back so many horrible memories, so much pain.  So much pain.  At the same time, I want to hurry.  I want to strap myself into the gyno’s stirrups with break neck speed!  I have felt the uncertainty of passing time every-single-day for FIVE years now.  I know what I’m in for.  I know what I’m up against.  And, I know that he isn’t up against that.  For him, this child, our child would just be another in a line.  I know he would love that child but it wouldn’t be his only child.  In his eyes, each and every one of his children are special to him in some way.  But, I see it in them: they don’t FEEL special.  Each and every one of those kids is fighting to be singled out from the herd, to know that they are special.  That’s something our child would never have to face because they will have extended family and me proving to them that they are special (yeah, I’m the crazy dog lady and I wonder if Pascal can handle it too…shut up!), and I know that there would be so much turmoil because of that.  I know from what I’ve already seen (much of it over Pascal!) that Paladin would feel displaced and that his children would be jealous even if only subconsciously.  Some of that happens even in nuclear families, and I can deal with it but I’m also not going to deny that our circumstances will make that 10 times harder.  Yes, even with all of that, I know that the second I sign the insurance forms as Mrs. Paladin, the stopwatch will start.  I’ll know that at any moment I can start trying with a simple phone call for an appointment.  And, I feel like there is jack and sh*t I can do about it now.  For the next 100 days, we are booked with Paladin’s surgeries and the kids here for the holidays.  100 days.  It’s a lifetime to wait.  It’s going to up the hormone ante by zillions for me.  For the last year, every Auntie visit has been devoid of emotion, and now it won’t be. 

Yeah, everything in our life has been dictated by his medical issues and his kids.  I won’t lie and say there isn’t some resentment about that.  I hate using that word too.  Paladin has a chip on his shoulder about “resentment”.  No, hon, I don’t blame you for that.  I’ve let it be like that.  My mother was in ICU and I put you and the kids FIRST and I’ve felt nothing but horrible guilt over it ever since.  I wasn’t there when they told my sister that my mother would probably never walk again.  I don’t get to fix that.  I don’t get to change that.  I haven’t asked to be put first.  I’ve only asked to be a team.  Maybe that needs to change.  I want to start trying the day after we sign the papers.  There.  I finally admitted it.  I know what you’ll say is, “That’s fine; I want you to have this and I want this child too.”  The truth is that I feel responsible for making this family of ours work and this will change the precarious balance we have.  It will be harder and I can’t do it all alone.  You have to show me that you can do this and that this will be your highest priority too.  Yeah, I said it.  I’m demanding that us getting pregnant be the first thing on the list.  I’m not saying I want to cancel your surgeries or cancel Christmas.  I’m saying that you need to be there pushing for this as hard as I am.  It’s going to be ugly.  It’s going to be so very ugly.  You have no idea what you’re up against.  And, no, you won’t feel it the way I will, but I need you to man-up and be completely behind me or I won’t make it through trying again.  I just don’t think I can.  I need you with me 100% here.  More than you can even imagine.  Think of it as my own personal brain tumor.

When, Paladin finally started talking yesterday he went into his usual, “Let’s just end this.”  I’m trying to get him to see that wanting to throw everything away and hide is depression and it’s been his shadow for a very long time now.  I’ve talked to him about taking a therapy session for himself each week in addition to our therapy session together.  I hope he will go through with it.  He’s not dealt with his illness, with Mull hurting him so deeply, with the loss of his life as he knew it, with his forced retirement…I could go on and on.  Basically, the last few years of his life have been hanging around his neck, and he has blinded himself to that with everything he could find.  Now, I’m here to take up some of the day-to-day stuff and he can’t find enough desperately important things to keep him from having to face up to those years.  In some ways, the denial has gone as far as it can. 

As the day went into night and we drove back toward home, Paladin explained to me how worried he was that if something happened to him during his surgeries without us being married that everything could end up in Mull’s hands (the house mainly since her name is still on the mortgage…but in reality, there’s a divorce decree saying she doesn’t get the house…he doesn’t want me to have to fight her in court though).  I didn’t know that.  I didn’t know that was on his mind for the last few weeks.  He hadn’t been pushing me toward the altar and I hadn’t wanted to bring it up because of the fear of ttc’ing again.  For two people who talk constantly, we need to say a lot more.

 

P.S.- By the way, I promise the next post will actually be fun.  I found the greatest shopping in Baton Rouge and I cannot wait to talk about it!!!  And, I very much want to give out award gifties!  🙂

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How many times can you put the words “weekend update” into a post title?  Eh…

First, I want to say “Howdy ya’ll!”  🙂  I miss getting online.  😦  And some quick comments on the past 2 posts:  I’m happy to report that Pascal is as perky as ever, but I’m keeping an even better eye on him which disturbs most of the people around here since I’m already a crazy dog lady.  Kat, what’s wrong with having sex while Big Bird bounces around in your head?  lol I can’t even blame it on the kids because they don’t watch Sesame Street.  And, Ron, I quite like that moniker “MacGyver of decorating” if I start a new blog that shall be the title!  🙂

 

So what have I been up to?  No.  Really.  I can’t remember it all.  It’s a big blur. 

 

But there are a few standouts like meeting Sanjaya!!!!  Ok, so it was really Bell’s new guy/friend (why can’t kids these days even commit to a title for their significant other?  oh yeah…it’s not just the kids…why can’t we bring back “going steady”?).  I love this boy…despite his Flock of Seagulls hairdo.  Paladin had paying jobs for the teenagers this weekend and Martian did some leaf raking while Bell and Sanjaya2 cleaned the van.  That sweet boy wouldn’t take the money.  Now, we’re going to have to wait until he isn’t looking to slip it into his pocket!  And, Sanjaya2 would NOT let me do the dishes if he was in the house.  I wish to trade any one of Paladin’s kids for him.  Well, except Indy.  She’s mine.  I’m claiming her! 

 

Speaking of being claimed, Savvy came off with quite a few gems this weekend.  I was in the kitchen making dinner Friday when she came in to tell me all about God.  In her book, he’s something like the Easter bunny, Santa, and mummies all combined.  Sadly, she whispered to me “But don’t tell Dad or he’ll get mad.”  I set her straight immediately.  Yes, Paladin HATES that she’s become completely entranced by Jesus, but, as I’ve told him, the best thing you can do is try to give her a balance of beliefs not just yours or mine or her mother’s church’s (Mull isn’t a true believer of any sort but I’ll get to that in a minute) or any other single viewpoint.  Over time, we all must choose for ourselves and it’s likely that her beliefs will change as she ages.  After I explained to her that it was ok to talk to Dad about God, she sat on the sofa telling him all about it.  Later, she drew him a picture of the two of them holding hands with “I heart Jesus” and “I heart God” and “I heart Dad” in the clouds above them.  How sweet is that?  She has been really sweet these last two weekends now that she understands the boundaries and that time-out will be enforced (Indy got 2 this weekend…in fact, she was the only kid that got one…of course, they consisted of me sitting her on her bed and telling her to say “sorry” and she could go back and play…it seriously cut down on her crying jags).  I’m glad I took your advice and let Paladin have his way.  Although, hand-to-ass is a lot quicker, and as I told my little Borrowed Girls (the youngest 3: Savvy, Blondie, and Indy) Sunday when I took them to Walmart, it’s not off the table.  Savvy didn’t need it, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t drive me nuts. 

 

Friday night, Savvy did not sleep the entire night; hence, neither did I.  About 1:30am she came in our room.  Then, she came in again at 2:45am, and by 4am, I gave up and got up with her (Paladin took her back to bed the first 2 times, but if I get a couple of hours of sleep and someone wakes me, I’m up for hours).  Sitting in a cold office chair while you make an 8yr. old keep their head on the pillow until they pass out at 5:30am isn’t as fun as it sounds.  At 7am, she came in and woke us up for the morning (did I mention that Mull filled her full of candy before she dropped them off? this makes twice she’s done that…one of these days I’m going to send them home with a bag of candy as big as their heads!).  I got a grand total of 3 hours of sleep and by Saturday night, I wasn’t having any of it.  I made Blondie and Savvy keep their heads down “or else” while I read their bedtime story (here’s a note: today’s kids don’t seem to enjoy Hans Christian Anderson unless he’s dumbed down for them…I loved the originals as a kid…it’s sad), and a semi-decent night’s sleep was had by the adults.  Well, it would have been except for a conversation with Savvy as we were kissing them goodnight.  I was extremely stern while reading to them (I wanted it clear that we were sleeping tonight!), and as I was kissing Savvy goodnight I said to her happily, “Goodnight my darling!”  She looked really confused for a second and then said to me, “Why did you call me ‘your darling’?”  I said the same thing as I kissed Blondie, btw.  But I told her, “Because you are my darlings; just like Dad is my darling.”  Savvy replied, “Is it because this summer I get to come and live with you and be your daughter?”  My heart broke a little when she said that.  I have been there when kids tell their mother that they want to live with Dad, and it’s horrific.  Savvy had obviously said something like that to Mull because Friday night Savvy and Blondie were telling me that “Mom says if you live with Dad you have to take all your stuff and you can’t ever come back.”  I knew Bell was in the kitchen listening and I told Savvy that she wouldn’t be my daughter until Dad and I were married and that was a long time from now.  Savvy seemed satisfied with that and went to sleep.  Paladin was less satisfied, however.

 

We spent at least 2 hours talking Saturday night after the kids were in bed.  Paladin asked me how I felt having Savvy say that she wanted to be my daughter.  Is “abject fear” the right answer?  Out of the many revelations that spew from Savvy and occasionally Blondie’s mouths in any given weekend, there are usually a couple about Mull.  I won’t lie.  I fish these kids sometimes.  But, I usually don’t have to.  Friday, they told me that Miss Churchlady would pick them up because “Mom has to take Jeremy back to school in Texas.”  They also told me that “Jeremy is going to be staying weekends with us now” and “Justin and Mom go to his friends house.”  Now let me get this straight for you the reader:  ONE WEEK and ONE DAY after giving BIRTH, Mull is seeing 2 men…one for during the week and one for the weekends!  Not to mention that the weekender is aparently in college and doesn’t drive!  Mull is 35!  Remember me saying I’d give it 6 months until she was knocked up again?  I’d like to lower that to 3…way better odds.  I was under the stupid impression that the whooha needs a little time to get back into place after giving birth.  Much of our adult time Saturday night was spent talking about just how many chances Mull is going to get before we take the kids from her.  It’s not just that she’s a total whore.  Hey, she is for all intents and purposes free and single (emphasis on the free).  She has from what I understand been a “passable” mother as in she didn’t let them die and made sure that someone cooked for them (not her mind you…it used to be Paladin and now Martian has to do it all) and paid them some attention.  I don’t know how much of that is true these days.  I’ve been in the “men coming out my ears” stage and it’s not that easy to keep up with everything.  The kids are obviously where things are sliding.  I didn’t even open it up for discussion when I found out about Miss Churchlady.  I told Paladin flat out that was NOT HAPPENING.  If Mull can’t get off her back and pick the kids up, we can get them to school.  He informed her of this and guess who managed to make it back from Texas in time to pick up her kids?  Uh huh…  As I said before, Mull is not a true believer.  The church has become her way of getting others to do her bidding.  And one of the reasons Savvy has become obsessed with church is because that’s where she’s getting ‘good attention’ instead of just being told what to do and to stay out of the way; it’s obvious that the only place these kids are getting attention is when they are at church or with us.  I’m hoping that Paladin will ease up his objections toward church over time because of this.  He did meet the Youth Pastor this weekend (Bell and Sanjaya2 were picked up by the pastor for church and youth group on Sunday which meant we got up at 7am again…grrr…) and I’ve been adamant about him being helpful toward the church.  He doesn’t have anything against this church but he’s worried about impressionable Savvy.  Frankly, I want these church members to understand that we are not Mull’s enemies (which from experience we know is the impression she’s giving them…the kids have said many times that “mom is poor because dad is rich”…ummm…we’re doing ok, but we still have to watch things…Mull CHOSE this…and if she thinks she’s poor now, wait until that extra $600 stops coming after the court hearing).  I had to set Martian and Bell straight about Miss Churchlady picking them up.  It is NOT HAPPENING EVER.  I framed it in a “it’s not a good idea from a legal standpoint because of chain of custody” way but I also made sure that they knew what we had told Mull:  It’s NEVER a problem for us to have extra time with them and we are happy to keep them ANYTIME and we can get them to school too.  I also made sure they understood that we don’t have anything in the world against Miss Churchlady.  I’m sure she’s a lovely person and I truly mean that.  I know that both she and the rest of the church mean well.  But, seriously, how long do you go on helping a whore be a whore?  Even in the interest of the kids? 

 

As part of my “take care of the kids and suck up to the church at the same time” campaign, Friday before the kids got there Paladin and I went around town and picked up some Easter presents for the kids.  He usually gets them candy and a card for holidays, but I begged to get them Easter dresses.  As I told him, it’s one of the few perks that I get as the NQM (or not-quite-mommy).  He reluctantly agreed.  These kids have been wearing the same 3 outfits since I met them in December and Blondie has been wearing some boy’s clothes that were given to Mull.  So, whatever she spent her adoption windfall on (other than a new Playstation controller which was “a gift from the baby” according to Blondie), it wasn’t on the kids.  And, I really can’t stand that they don’t have decent dresses to wear to church and I don’t care one bit that it makes me an old fudy dudy.  So, I picked out 3 pretty pink frocks for my Borrowed Girls and got Martian a couple of cool new t-shirts.  Then came Bell, our goth princess.  How do you pick out an Easter dress for a Goth?  The store made it easy.  There were 2 possible choices to fit “miss tiny ass who eats everything and gains nothing”:  a tiger print tiered ruffled mini-skirt and a spaghetti strapped, empire waisted, sequined silver dress.  We got both, and decided that if she hated the silver, we’d give her the tiger skirt.  But, she loved it!  YAY!  I may not know teens but I do know a little something about fashion!  Fortunately, I knew the little one’s dress sizes and I guessed at Bell’s (a Junior’s Small…I think that’s about a 3?), but I didn’t know their shoe sizes.  So I took my Borrowed Girls to Walmart all by myself on Sunday morning.  We got dress shoes, new underwear and socks (the 2 older girls have had the same 3 pair of undies between them since December…they were stained and had holes starting and they fit them too tightly) and new tennis shoes for Blondie and Savvy (I washed their filthy old ones the night before and Blondie had an “issue” with the insole coming out of her old ones).  Indy got new dress shoes and big girl panties with Cinderella (she pouted a little because she wanted the Dora but they were out in her size…I wasn’t going up a size…I’m sick of this kid’s clothes falling off her!).  And, they were good as gold.  🙂  Bell doesn’t know it but she has shoes too; we’re saving them and her mini-skirt for her birthday present. 

 

Yeah, there are perks to being the NQM.  I get to be ground zero for the insanity, but I’m well liked by the children.  I get to pick out pretty girly dresses, and talk fashion with teenagers.  I get to pass snotty quips back and forth with Martian.  I get to be Blondie’s “squishy teddy bear”  and help teach her to read (she just turned 6 and I was helping her read a Disney book this weekend…she had a little trouble with bigger words like “replied” but I was really surprised at how well she did for a kindergartener).  I get to teach Indy not to hit or pull hair, and I get to make faces at her smelly feet while I change a rancid “who fed this kid curry?” diaper.  And, I get to teach Savvy that it’s always better to be yourself in pictures because nobody likes a faker:

 

Note Savvy's fake princess pose.

Note Savvy's fake princess pose.

borrowed-girls2

Borrowed Girls and Pascal butt.

 

I know, I didn’t password protect them and someday, I’ll probably get my ass handed to me over it.  But I barely get to be online these days which means, it would take a while to get everyone the password and I just don’t have the time to hide this stuff.  Hey, I don’t really want to anyhow.  I’ll take my beating when it comes. 

 

Speaking of well-deserved beatings, I don’t know if I’ll get to see ya’ll today.  It’s the first of the month and Brian may need me to go to town.  He’s debating it at the moment which is how I got to write this.  I’m hoping that with the family here next week I’ll have more time online.  I took some extra days at work so Tina can go tourist with them which means a greater chance of me seeing ya’ll!  Yay!  See you ASAP!

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I should never EVER say I’ll get back online.  The last 24 hours has been much like an episode of 24. 

 

Within a few minutes of posting, Tina messed up a tire on the beloved Breeze.  In an attempt to get it fixed, Paladin and I got up and drove the 65 miles to Mom’s then went back to town with the tire (another 35 miles) and then reversed the process.  It was just 200+ miles, not including a stop on base to get a Dept. of Defense sticker for the van.  But that wasn’t the end of it…nooooo… 

 

Paladin has been in pain a lot during the last few days which isn’t unusual because his past brain surgeries have left him with constant low-grade pain.  This pain was extreme though and he was afraid that the valve in his brain wasn’t pumping correctly.  I said he probably had allergies and it was causing a build-up of fluid in his sinuses.  He ignored me.  But, he also hates to go to doctors and I eventually convinced him to try the sinus decongestants.  He felt much better after that.  Unfortunately, he also bugged me the whole day.  First, he bugged me because in the space of 5 minutes I hit the van and the fence backing out of the garage.  In my defense, he parked the van so that I had all of 6 inches of space TOTAL to get around the van, fence, and a small tree.  Hey, I MISSED THE TREE!  Then he bugged me because the car horn began going off every time I turned the wheel and obviously, I’d f**ked it up.  I did.  I know I did, and I took full responsibility.  He wasn’t mad or anything.  He just saw a comedic opening and took it.  Tina kept laughing at his jokes which just egged him on, of course. 

 

Then something horrible happened.  Pascal inadvertently got caught in a spot.  I won’t go into how he got there because its no one’s fault (no I didn’t do it).  When I found him, he was soaking wet with saliva and his tongue was lolled out and he was barely responding to me.  I have only experienced terror like that once before in my life when Will was a baby and had a high fever which sent him into a seizure.  I got a bottle of water down Pascal and dunked him in cool water too.  About 20 minutes later, he started responding better, and after a couple of hours, he was back to normal.  I’m trying not to cry just writing about it.  If I hadn’t found him when I did, I don’t think he’d have made it.  I’m so grateful to the powers that be that I shaved him down to his summer coat the night before.  If I hadn’t, I think I’d be burying my dog today, and I’m not sure I could recover from that.  He’s my baby.  But, at the same time, I couldn’t baby him the rest of the day because I didn’t want him to get all phobic.  Yes, I know, crazy ass dog lady.  I did the same thing when he was little and jumped off the sofa and hurt himself.  I learned that if I baby him for too long after an injury he goes completely “man” about it (i.e.- I’m dyyyyying…can’t you telllll…).  But I was seriously terrified, sick-to-my-stomach terrified.

 

Paladin then spent the rest of the day in full-on ORAL mode (Old Retired Army Lolligagger, that is).  The van needs a new fuel filter which Paladin was shocked to learn is actually inside the fuel tank.  Apparently, the last time Paladin did any mechanic work was before he got in the Army, but he fully expected cars to still work the same.  Ummm…no.  Now, everything is pretty much set up so that you MUST take it to a mechanic.  Commence with the cussing.  I have to giggle every single time.  Unfortunately, I also get that Claire Huxtible “oh god don’t let him know this appliance isn’t working” feeling, and for good reason.  The first time we had an appliance get messed up the dryer wasn’t working right.  I’m pretty sure the cord just wasn’t attached properly.  Two hours of cussing later…there were sparks flying out the back and the motor was toast.  I’m a little leary of him working on things like that now, and like an idiot, I have yet to learn that when he’s telling me about the problem I’m supposed to agree with whatever he says instead of my patented “I don’t know jack about this stuff; call Dave and Will” response.  Once he decided it was the fuel filter, I told him that I’d been through this already with the car and that it’s a delicate process and you should really get it done by a mechanic that is VERY trustworthy or at the dealer (on a trip to Georgia a few years ago, we had to keep our windows down the whole ride home because the Midas place that had changed the Breeze’s fuel filter hadn’t seated it properly and it leaked fumes into the car…who knows how many brain cells we lost before we realized it…they also WAY overcharged us, but, at the time, we were in a hurry to get to Fort Benning).  Silly me.  For some reason, Paladin loves the local Pennzoil place and I’m fine with that, but I’m pretty sure they don’t do this stuff.  I guess I’ll find out in a few minutes.  Anyhow, this caused him to think he’d pissed me off later that evening when I was grumbling over the damned German cookies he bought (uhh…it ain’t a cookie!  it’s a Ritz cracker with not-very-sweet frosting in the middle…and why does every German food open like a pack of cigarettes?).  The darned things spewed crumbs EVERYWHERE the second I opened them and I spent half an hour picking them up and vacuuming.  I told him never to buy them again.  If a grown woman can’t keep them from ending up everywhere, what chance do children have?  Of course, he wasn’t convinced that I wasn’t pissed.  So I took him to bed and made my point.  😉  lol  And that freakin’ Sesame Street song played in my head the entire time…aaarrrggghhhh….

 

I hate to say it, but I’ve got to go.  I’ll see ya’ll next week fo sho!  But, I’m screwed right now.  I lost a day’s work to all that and I have to get the house cleaned before the kids get here later.  😦  Byes!

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I'm 1!
I

Our little foundling has been with us for exactly one year now.  He’s brought joy and fear unlike anything I could have dreamed (especially when I tried to get his hat and shirt on him!)

 

 

See!  I'm not the only one who doesn't like getting older!

See! I

 

I made his hat this morning.  It’s a little makeshift, but I just grabbed what I could find around the house.  He was obviously thrilled to see it.  He wanted the hat and shirt off ASAP!

 

Why? Why? OH the humanity!

Why? Why? OH the humanity!

 

 

 

 

Just so he wouldn’t be the only one tortured, I got gussied up to take those pics I promised ya’ll.  I have to say M. did a decent job as our photog.  He’s naturally a shaky cameraman, and that made for many artsy pics.  Of course my penchant for the Picasa glow feature helps!  😉

 

 

Flashdance ready!

Flashdance ready!

 

I love those trashy long black earrings.  They bring out the disco in that hairdo!  lol

 

 

And these just looked cool…

 

 

Hard boiled broad look.

Hard boiled broad look.

Clara Bow eat your heart out!

Clara Bow eat your heart out!

Old-fashioned glam!

Old-fashioned glam!

I love this over-saturated one.

I love this over-saturated one.

 

 

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A birthday kiss.

A birthday kiss.

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They left me behind...

 

How sad is this puppy?  Poor Pascal searched high and low last night for Ginger and her friend, Miz Lucky (her blog monicker…courtesy of a cute little boy who kept asking how she got lucky).  I thought I might have to frisk Miz Lucky when she left!  She totally fell in love with Pascal. 

 

 

We all had tons of fun, and seldom stopped laughing from the moment they arrived.  Of course, a fair amount of that was at M.’s expense, but he’s used to that sort of thing since Ginger and I have always found him very comical.  🙂  Put the two of us in a room and you’ve got a gigglefest.  Add Miz Lucky and you’re in for a riot. 

 

 

When we weren’t giggling, we were taking a whirlwind tour of Cane River plantation country and Natchitoches.  Plantations, grave markers in French, and truffles from Les Saisons’ Front Street candy shop conspired to make a lovely day (despite heat that would’ve made Scarlett O’Hara strip off her gusset in full view of the gentry).  And on their way out of town, we all stopped for lunch at a Korean Sports Bar & Grill which is the weirdest concept you can imagine (one menu had Yaki dumplings, hamburgers, and crawfish pies…they had one vegetarian dish only, and the waitress was highly confused by my request to have a salad without the meat…I don’t think we’ll be going back there which in Leesville, Louisiana cuts the number of decent non-chain restaurants to about 3). 

 

 

We miss them both terribly.  I can’t wait for next year!  🙂

 

 

P.S.- Thankfully, I did manage to get some running water for them.  Unfortunately, I didn’t get them handles for the shower.  lol  No complaints, though.  Last year, we didn’t have hot water at all, and Ginger took baths in our huge tub via several pots of boiling water!  We’re moving up in the world! 

P.P.S.- My instructor finally got back to me (9 days to get an answer), and she said the dreaded word: resubmit.  Damn it!  I have to rewrite the whole thing.  Whaaa!

 

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Just don’t yell at me.  It had to be done.  It’s been in the upper 80’s here for most of the last 2 weeks and it isn’t going to get much cooler.  Poor Pascal was so hot that he lay around panting most of the time.  So I did this… 

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He sho do look like a poodle now!

I’ve heard nothing but bitching ever since.  Every time someone sees him they complain about it.  Will and Dave shave their heads in the summer to keep cool, but they keep complaining, “He doesn’t even look like our dog anymore! (did you catch the OUR there? where were they when he was a baby sleeping on my stomach for 18 hours a day?)”  Pas has been way friskier since I clipped him all the way down (he should be…I’m pretty sure there’s another dog somewhere in that 9inch ball of fur I took off him).  Though, in the future I will leave his face alone.  He looks better with a fuzzy beard.    

Alas, dear internet, this may be my last post for a while (unless I feel the need to hide out from my inlaws).  We leave tomorrow afternoon, and I haven’t even had time to tell you all about today’s visit with Sexy Doctor (it was awesome…I’m glad his staff doesn’t have to keep secrets from people like ‘you’re dying in 2 weeks’ because they are NOT big on subtlety…they kept sneaking peeks at us…problem is I don’t know if they were trying to see me or Tina because Tina tried to add Sexy Doctor to her myspace…but he’s making sure I have time to find out by demanding to see Mom every month for the next few months…he wasn’t supposed to see her today…it was supposed to be his PA, but he made a point to stand around and chat for a while…better believe I was wearing the Industrial Cotton good booty jeans) nor did I get to tell you about my $1000 car repair (our mechanic Single Charles, who Tina’s all about, lent us a van to get home until tomorrow because our brake line split wide open in addition to the $1k car repair…if we hadn’t had Mom with us, he was offering to drive us home and pick us up in the morning….cute available men driving you around, that’s what I call service…poor Tina, it’s a golden opportunity that may never come again…darn).  Oh well, I promise to come back with pics and tales from the darkside!  lol  See ya’ll soon!

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