Oh yeah…

KABOOSH!

Maggie is a big fan of YouTube. Yes, it is even hitting the preschool set these days. She also has more friends on MySpace than I do! However, one of her favorite songs from YouTube can also be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aeK08o2qiSU

and looks a little like this:

She pointed to her own eyebrows and said, “I like his these.” Not long after I heard her running through the house singing the song and was finally lucky enough to catch it on video.

Direct link here

Ok, I have several videos coming down the pike here. All pretty funny stuff, but I had a busy weekend and just haven’t had the time to do all the fun, fancy stuff to them yet.

In other news, two more second-hand pets have found us. Two lovely bunnies, a black and white girl (Kate named her Oreo) and a white Cadbury-like bunny that Maggie has named Twelby. Oreo is pretty bitchy and appears to be under the impression that she can take any one of us if she really wanted to and she’s the little one!

Twelby is a doll. Super sweet and he loves to be scratched and loved on.

and you KNOW this, MAAAAAAAAN.

*sigh* I love Friday. The movie and the day… but today I am totally looking forward to NEXT Friday. The 4th of July Blitz. WOOT. Where my friend, ED (a girl, no I am not kidding) and I will probably drink too much and dance too loudly and drunkenly in my garage (wide open in front of the entire neighborhood) to 80’s music while we attempt to convince ourselves we are in junior high again.

My kid will roll their eyes, Mike will undoubtedly imbibe one too many keg beers and scorch his scalp under the firework sparks (AGAIN) and we will all eat too much, drink too much and be so damn merry that it will be the best 4th of July since Bing Crosby tap danced with Danny fuckin’ Kaye.

Wait. Wait… wrong holiday.

Perhaps you get my point anyway, right?

*sigh* I freakin’ love summer.

Boy, it’s been one hell of a week. I wanted to end on a happy upbeat note, but I just don’t think I can. I’m not good at being vulnerable. I’ve spent most of my life having to look out for someone else being vulnerable was not something I’ve had time for. I’ve always been the type of person to believe that good prevails in the end and when I’ve been given the opportunity, I’ve tried to speed that process along.

When Mike and I were on our honeymoon we received some very poor customer service at a chain store. By the end of the day I had the district manager on the phone, received an apology, the employees were written up, and we received a bunch of free stuff and a follow up letter of apology.

When an unscrupulous dental corporation attempted to fight me on the unemployment I was due - I fought them viciously and won. I got not only my unemployment but the judge at the hearing issued a very stern reprimand letter to the corporation and told me I probably had a good shot at a law suit. That’s not something that normally happens around here with the unemployment office. I followed this up with a labor complaint that ended in a decent settlement as well. I didn’t pursue the lawsuit even though Gloria Allred was willing to look into at one point (that isn’t name dropping or bragging, she was only interested because there was an element of sexual harassment). I probably should have but at that point I just wanted to walk away from the whole thing.

I put my job in jeopardy originally by alerting the dental investigator for southern California that children were being abused in the dental offices. I recall at the time, that Mike wasn’t too supportive of that because of it jeopardizing my job. But, no one else was willing to speak out for those children and I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try.

My point? Well, it’s not that I’m some big, bad person who wanders around kicking ass. Not at all. In fact, my point is more that I wasn’t the “give up” kind of person. I have always had a deep desire for fairness and justice, the lack thereof has always been something that enrages me deeply. I get that from my mom, undoubtedly.

So, ten years ago? I would have fought this chicken thing tooth and toenail. Although, what is there to fight? What would I be looking to have at this point? I’d like an apology and an admission of general fuck up from this Code Enforcement Officer and the rest of the moronic department, I suppose.

These days I just feel like life has kicked my ass. Like the big bully is standing there yelling at me to get up and all I can do is just drag myself off somewhere. I’m tired. Really, really tired. And, I don’t feel like I have the support that maybe I once had. I’m just not the Erin Brockovich type anymore.

So I sit here, in effect, screaming at the ocean. Wishing things were different… wondering why they aren’t, and frustrated because it seems the more I wiggle the more the noose tightens. I look over at Mike as if to say, “you’ve got my back, right?” only to find that he’s angry and annoyed with me for even being upset about any of this. And, I feel like a child who has been told to stop crying about the ice cream she dropped in the dirt.

I don’t know, I guess when the person who means the most to you and is supposed to be your life partner, sees no validity in the things that matter to you, that you feel emotional and passionate about (and let’s not just reduce this to chickens, it’s more than that) - it no longer feels so important, worse yet, you feel a little worse about yourself for “getting so worked up” over it.

I feel that for every feeling of discontent that I have I must first close all the exits, cross every t and dot every i just to prove that my feelings have worth and value. Sometimes it feels like a constant battle, which person’s cares are more important. Not that I feel that way, but after feeling like nearly every feeling you have is devalued, you just want to scream and say, BUT I FEEL THIS WAY, WHY DON’T YOU CARE?!?!?!

I can’t seem to make it clear that to me, agreeing with someone and caring about their feelings is not the same thing. I’m ok with someone not agreeing, but I’m not ok with being put down for having those feelings. And, just because you don’t agree doesn’t mean you can’t care. At least in my book.

Thanks to my MIL who spent some time researching instead of doing what WE did which was to believe someone from the city that they knew what they were talking about, the following was found yesterday:

6.08.010 Keeping prohibited—Exception.
It is unlawful for any person to keep or have under their care, custody or control, either as owner or otherwise, any chickens, ducks, geese, or poultry or fowl of any kind whatsoever, within the city, unless same are kept securely enclosed in a yard or pen at all times. (Prior code § 9.02.010)

We had two, tiny, bantam chickens. They were not capable of leaping the fences (which are over 6 feet tall) they were secure within our backyard and spent 80% of their time UNDER the butterfly bush. The following is the email I sent off last night to the gentleman who showed up and fed us a load of bullshit regarding our pets.

We researched the City Code here -
http://www.qualitycodepublishing.com/codes/bakersfield/

6.08.010 Keeping prohibited—Exception.

It is unlawful for any person to keep or have under their care, custody or control, either as owner or otherwise, any chickens, ducks, geese, or poultry or fowl of any kind whatsoever, within the city, unless same are kept securely enclosed in a yard or pen at all times. (Prior code § 9.02.010)

——————-

Our bantam chickens were SECURE within our yard. You saw for yourself that they were kept securely within our yard. According to this code here - we were well within our rights and now we have had to deal with our 4 year old absolutely heartbroken at the loss of her beloved pets.

Can you please explain to us why you led us to believe that we were doing something that was against code? Is this a change in the code you were unaware of?

Mike and I would appreciate a response and explanation regarding this. Furthermore, I would be interested in knowing who made this complaint as it does appear to lack legitimacy in light of this code.

Thank you for your help in this matter,

Mike and Amy Doran

Maggie has been absolutely heartbroken over Chickie being gone. We had to deal with her SOBBING most of the day when they were taken away. The anger I am feeling right now is nearly quadrupled to what I felt on Monday.

I cannot begin to tell you how STUPID I feel. After all the years I have spent not taking anyone’s word for something, always researching it myself, I stupidly saw a badge and took the jerk’s word for it. You have no idea how ignorant I feel right now. Why I didn’t research this immediately before giving up Hank and Chickie, I just don’t know. I just couldn’t believe that someone who is supposed to enforce the municipal code either didn’t know it or lied his ass off.

Either way, this is my fault, ultimately, because I didn’t investigate my own rights. That will be the last time I EVER make a mistake like this, I can tell you that.

Either to avenge my daughter’s broken heart or the injury to my pride, I’m telling you, I want BLOOD now.

Parenting teenagers is, at times, like a suburban version of the “Cold War.” It requires dedication, stealth and the ability to constantly remind yourself that age and treachery triumph over youth and skill any day. Therefore, it is imperative to strike first, silently, and with great stealth.

As I write this, it’s still early in the evening on Tuesday night and in about 5 or 6 hours my children will be home from their tropical vacation. But, in their minds, they will still be on “Island Time.” Which, as it turns out, is not some bullshit Jimmy Buffet made up.

They’ll arrive home late, the luggage will be left in the entry way. They might be talkative for the first 20 minutes and then they’ll crash into travel induced comas.

They’ll slowly trudge downstairs in the morning probably tired and a more than a little grumpy over the prospect of returning to their normal and very un-tropical existence. This is where Maggie comes in since she’ll be bouncing around them like a Pomeranian puppy on crack. This, of course, will have nothing to do with Mike and I spending all day prior pumping her up and explaining to her that Bubby and Katie will be here when she wakes up in the morning. However early that may be. Don’t gasp and tell me how horrible I am, this child is an absolute necessity to my strategy of keeping the teenagers just a little off balance.

MY GOD people! We’re talking about my very survival here!

Mike and I will try to be patient until one of us trips over the afore mentioned luggage for the 10th time. But, it’s that moment when we ask them to haul their luggage upstairs and unpack that reality will really set in. That’s when the war will really be on. We’ll hear the huffs, we’ll see the eyes roll and I will look at Mike and quietly I’ll whisper, “Yeah, missed you too, you little bastards.”

They are teenagers, it is perfectly acceptable for me to refer to them this way. All is fair in love and war, people, now say it with me…

This is the part that can be just a little tricky. We’ll have to step carefully here, one sudden move and they’ll have us by our jugulars. I hear that can be pretty uncomfortable, so we won’t dare to suggest that they return to their normal chore routine lest we inspire a full blown mutiny. No, instead we’ll give them a day or two before we suggest that the empty soda cans and dirty glasses that are piled in their rooms be returned to the kitchen so that the rest of the family can avoid drinking out of their hands or left over McDonald’s cups or something.

By the end of the week it might be safe to remind them that there is a chore list for each of them on the refrigerator. Maybe. I’m keeping this option open as their may be more subtle ways of handling the situation.

By next week, provided they’ve caught up with all of their friends after their “long absence” from their typical social circles, we’ll suggest that they begin some basic summer projects like cleaning out their closets.

Of course, Ethan will be attending summer school so to suggest that he clean out his closet as well when he’s trying to balance a social life, a wonderful girlfriend, summer school, and all of his other hobbies would be akin to suggesting that one should store expensive cigars in a cookie jar with the Oreos.

And all of that hinges on whether or not we have eased them back into their chore schedule without waking up with pineapples rammed up our asses and tiny umbrellas shoved under our fingernails. Subtlety is NOT in the teenager nature, therefore any attacks from that side will include explosions, rash decisions and most likely, brutality.

That’s why the first attack must be from our side, it must be swift, clear, yet subtle. Some might say sneaky, because it could easily be mistaken as a crude attempt to lull them into a sense of false security. It’s not though, it’s a multi-leveled, well thought out plan of attack. They won’t know what hit them.

Don’t think they don’t have a plan of attack. They’ll come back with little grenades called “souvenirs” and “gifts.” They can be sneaky… sneaky, but never subtle that is.

Therefore, our plan of attack must be in place before they ever arrive home. While they were on a plane I was preparing for the arrival of my offspring much like I did before their births. Well, minus the pretty nursery and me still making their beds and putting their cutesy, teeny clothes away. I cleaned the house from stem to stern. Floors were mopped and vacuumed, dishes were put away, the kitchen was scoured from top to bottom, and all the towels were washed. I was even kind enough to tidy up their bathroom that is supposed to be their responsibility that they slipped out of town without taking care of.

They will come into a house that is orderly, neat, tidy and they will mistake it to be a welcome home gesture. Ahhh. But it is so much more for clearly, the house is clean, no chores are required.

And that, my friends, is where it begins. Like a silent, ninja concrete filled boot from behind slamming right into their behinds.

Wish me luck!

I have been known from time to time to wake my husband up in the middle of the night whispering, “Michael!!!! Did you HEAR that?!?!?!?”

He wakes up, listens, doesn’t hear it, goes to check it out anyway, comes back to bed, teases me and goes back to sleep. Sometimes he acts grumpy and goes out to check and comes back bitching when he doesn’t find anything. Other times he says, “it’s ok, babe” rolls over and starts snoring loudly.

Except for the other night…

I woke up hearing some sort of drum beat that sounded very much like a tribe of cannibals were prepping for a feast. I shook Mike and watched as his eyes widened because, THIS TIME HE ACTUALLY HEARD IT!!! And, for once he was almost as scared as I was!

He crept downstairs (unarmed and wearing only his underwear) into the family room where nothing appeared to be disturbed with the exception of the keyboard that was on and playing a creepy (at least at 2am) drumbeat.

Liza must have been up torturing the bird and mouse partying and scared the living hell out of herself when she ran across the keyboard. Man, I wish I had a nanny cam in there or something!

The important thing here is that he finally heard the noise too.

My kids are in Oahu for 7 days. Well, less than that now since they’ll be back on Tuesday.

Tropical paradise… I’m trying not to envy the little bastards but it’s getting hard.
Especially when I receive things like this on my cell phone:

My lovely daughter sent me that their first night there. It’s the view from their hotel room.

*sigh*

All I know is that if I don’t get a couple of boxes of chocolate covered Macadamia nuts out of this someone is going to catch hell. In the meantime, it’s just Mike, Maggie and I. Oh, and occasionally Tim who we’ve sort of just adopted. I’m moving up from animals back up off me, man!

Tuesday night Maggie let the stupid bird out of his cage. He flew into the ceiling fan, got caught in the wind current, was thrown into the wall and landed on the back of the couch. He sat there looking rather stunned and shaking his head. Thank God Liza was asleep and missed it because I don’t think he’d have lasted long. I think that bird was not blessed with the normal brain birds get.

Yesterday we were going to take Maggs to the movies. Kung Fu Panda. Maggie got up around 9am and went back to bed at 11, slept until almost 2, woke up and went back to sleep on the couch until around 5 when she woke up and promptly puked. After that she was back in the game 100% - twenty minutes after puking she had let Sophie loose and I found Sophie standing up on her hind legs barking at Tim.

I think she was totally getting off on someone being intimidated by her! They (Ethan and Tim) both swear that Sophie has bit them… I don’t believe it for a second. My little angel wouldn’t ever do that!

Last night there was a cool breeze blowing and Mike and I sat out on the deck to enjoy the sunset. Maggie soon pranced her happy butt out on to the deck and began doing the “I really have to go potty but I’m so happy to be enjoying your company that I’ll put it off for a bit” dance.

I have to admit to briefly considering watching her prance to the point of no return and then calling Ethan to step out on the patio below for an impromptu evening shower. What? Shut up. You all know that I have an evil streak.

Instead I told Maggie to go in and go to the bathroom. She ran into our bathroom that has a small water closet with a window just above the toilet. The window overlooks the deck. Wow that sounds strange, but go with me anyway on this one.

Mike got a sort of evil grin on his face and since I was really enjoying the beer I didn’t feel the need to inquire and/or possibly stop him. He tip toed over to the open window.

“Oooooooo, oooooooo, I’m the bathroom ghost… woooooooo.”

I heard a scream and two little feet slam down on the tile. I guess that’s when she looked back and saw Mike at the window.

“MIKE!!! You don’t say bathroom ghost!!!!”

Mike laughed and I guess that made Maggie mad.

“I’ll kick your ghost ass!!!!!!”

Yep, you can go ahead and overnight that Parent of the Year trophy, folks.