clickmom

and my legs are silky smooth too

The kids are watching The Simpsons and a commercial for a women's razor begins and the voice over says "Inside every woman is a goddess." and then the music comes on and the background song is the 80's song Venus by Bananarama. You remember it, "Goddess on the mountain top, Burning like a silver frame, The summit of Beauty and love, And Venus was her name...." Josh turns to me and says "They're talking about you Mom. You're my Goddess of love."

Hershey Hell 100%

I found the missing piece.

During a pre-party (we volunteered our island for the lakes annual picnic, which was today) cleaning frenzy I discovered the missing piece hiding on a book shelf next to the card table where I assembled the little slice of hell.

What a relief. Now I can get on with the rest of my life.

The only thing I am wondering is what I should do with the 100% fully assembled puzzle. I knew that the local Walmart carried puzzle glue, so I went to pick some up, but they were out. There must have been a run on puzzle glue. Even if I did glue the puzzle together I still wouldn't know what to do with it. I tried to get a cheap frame for it, but the puzzle is 24x30 and the frames were either 20x30 or 24x36. I didn't think I should chop a slice of the puzzle off or have an unsightly border on the sides of the puzzle. I thought that maybe I could rebox the puzzle and pass it along to another babe, but these women are my friends, they might be the obsessive types too, we can barely manage to all read a book a month and I don't think I would want to do this to any of them. Their kids might not be understanding.

before:

after:

And now for the guilty admission: There is another, even more scary than Hershey Hell puzzle in the house. It is a 500+ piece photomosaic puzzle, an eagle with lots of blue background made with miniature photos that are all alarmingly similar in color range. Gulp. This is why I need to get Hershey Hell off of the card table, so I can hyper focus on something other than the triathlon.

computers, training and the devil dog

Matt got a new lap top and I am jealous. It isn't old and creaky like mine, and he all the latest software on his. I have to update. He hasn't pryed the caps lock button off of his, so that is pretty much the only negative. He also has a shiny screen and I am lusting after that. Now I can do things like strikethrough which for some reason doesn't show up on mine. Also, I can't underline, use italics, or even type in bold. So if you see me doing any of these things you'll know who wasn't playing fantasy games on the computer tonight.

I had a rough day here. The babysitter that I hired so that I could go to the gym isn't paying enough attention to the kids. He loves wakeboarding and every day he gets the kids on the boat picks up his friends in our boat and makes the kids watch while he wakeboards. I told him he could use the boat before or after he sits and that he needs to focus on the kids for the time that I am hiring him for, but he doesn't seem to get it. Tomorrow I am going to have to get tough with him because I need the kids to be happpy with him so that I can exercise guilt free. Also, I GO FOOD SHOPPING WHEN HE IS HERE AND THE KIDS DO NOT WANT TO (I hit the damned caps lock button- this is why I no longer have one on my lap top) as I was writing, the kids do not want to go food shopping. I am sure of that. I will speak to the sitter (who I totally need to post about because OMG he is the cutest thing ever. Even cuter than Chef Cutie and Lake Boy rolled into one-seriously) I am thinking that if I can't get through to him directly I will go through his Mom, because I NEED HIM. (hee hee I went bold!)

Speaking of needing him for training, what I really need to do is get on the ball with the triathlon training. I set out for a walk/run this AM and realized that it had been a month since I had done a serious walk. I was a little awkward at first, and I think it was because I am using all these previously unused muscles in the pilates class I am taking here. There is much inner and outer thigh work occuring that doesn't happen otherwise. I am really enjoying the pilates class here, unfortunately pilates will not get me across the finish line in September so I have to focus on the swim/bike/run-walk part of what I will be required to do.

Also speaking of the triathlon, I am a bit worried. I spent the whole winter at the stinking Y figuring out how to swim freestyle (why isn't it called crawl anymore?) By the time June rolled around I could swim freestyle forever at the Y. The problem here is that I am not swimming at the Y where I can see the comforting stripe on the bottom of the relatively waveless pool. I am in a lake where I can kind of see the weedy/rocky bottom, but that doesn't help me know if I am going in the right direction also there are little boat wakes to contend with and these things freak me out. I have been getting a little panic attack and having to swim breast or side with my head out of the water. All winter I swam and swam ans swam, and thought "Oh yeah, go me, I am going to swim crawl baby......" snort. I must have gotten a little cocky.

Today I walked for 45 minutes. I could have gone longer but the dog was actually slowing me down. I think it has been too humid for her. Either that or she is sick. I might just make a vet appt. for her and have them do a couple of blood tests. She isn't her usual underfoot incredibly annoying self. She has been enjoyable. It has me worried. Now I have to start getting two kinds of exercise in a day. I should have swam later in te day today. Tomorrow I am hoping to walk and swim and then do a nice long bike ride on Saturday. I found a long straight almost flat stretch of road that should be good to simulate the tri course. I'd like to build up to 20 miles per ride instead of 15. I really like the riding.

uplifting

Tonight was garbage night here in utopia, which is a big haul for us. We make an embarrassing amount of trash in a week, especially since we don't have sewer- yes this place is still on septic (not for long though) and can't have a disposal in the sink. Matt, sensing my funk (see post below) was more than helpful, hauling trash along with me up the entire length of the bridge that connects us to the main road not only once but twice, 'cause tomorrow is recycles too. I really like that about Matt. He always knows when being helpful is called for and typically rises to the occasion.

While I was running around gathering all the trash/recycles I noticed that Josh had passed out naked on the couch. I thought I would leave him there until it got dark, lest he awaken and think he could stay awake. Once Matt and I completed our sunset trash haul and fended off the swarms of mosquitos and black flies (insects are very utopian) I reentered the room to guide Josh into bed. I stood puzzlling for a second looking down at Josh, and then I heard the words that strike terror into any mothers heart. From behind me Evan declared "Matt did it."

"What did Matt do?" you may be wondering. Matt tatooed sleeping Josh. Just a little heart on his shoulder. And it said MOM, which naturally brought tears to my eyes. Matt crept around the corner as I was doing a poor job concealing my laughter. Relieved that I wasn't angry (I mean, gawd, he wrote MOM) he asked if he could please do one more. I told him yes, Matt grabbed another marker, sat down and as gently as could be added another tatoo to Josh's butt. (Oh jeez, just realized the google hits this one is going to get) Here is what completely broke the spell and turned my foul mood around:

I am a repeat offender

I am totally bumming here. Totally bumming. First I unknowingly alienate Peanut's husband thereby alienating Peanut and disrupting the whole babe love fest. I apologized to Peanut and thought I had eaten the biggest possible piece of humble pie (and we all know I can pack in the deserts) but Peanut never came around and said "Let's be friends again". Now it has been forever, too long, and I see that it just ain't gonna happen.

Now I have managed to alienate Boop's new man-friend. Boops was here, they were text messaging back and forth, back and forth, back and forth (get the picture?) and I took her phone and texted him "Go away. Love, clickmom" and now he is all insulted and thinks I was RUDE. I, on the other hand was half-way serious, cause I mean, c'mon man, I rarely get to hang with my pal, leave her alone when you know she is with me, or at least keep it short, and half way trying to be cute hence the LOVE part. As in LOVE wink wink just take the hint, but don't get all bent out of shape. But bottom line is the guy is offended. He thinks I hate him and other things that aren't true because he isn't getting his info from me he is getting it from Boops, who .... who .... who.... I dunno what the $%^&* she is telling him but now things are just bad. Bad bad bad.

So I am upset for many reasons:
1. Yet another man/husband of a friend thinks I hate him-when I don't. This is bullshit.
2. Lack of harmony between friends and man friends is the last thing Boops needs on her already full plate. What Boops needs a break.
3. And last but not least, in the back of my mind I am thinking "Maybe I am the man hating socially inept sloth Peanut, Peanut's husband, and now Boops' man friend think I am."

I mean, look, we all know stupid people who have no idea they are stupid, and people who dress like clowns that have no idea they look silly. What if my whole reality is just a lie and I suck with people? Maybe my perception is skewed and I am the freak, every one else is normal?

It all kinda came home for me today when Boops came with me to the chiropractor. (Torn rotator cuff- long story) I have been to this chiropractor a few times and we talked, but not much. I just thought the chiropractor was the serious quiet type. Today the chiropractor was torturing me, and when I cried out in pain he and Boops started to make fun of me and say they were going to use my sounds of suffering in a kung foo movie, then they started to tease me about being high maintenance. I was like "HIGH MAINTENANCE?? I am not high maintenance!!" But it was useless, they had completely ganged up on me so I gave up.

I was thinking "How did Boops befriend this guy in two seconds, get him to completely lighten up, and then turn on me??" I mean, I was the one whipping out the co-pay!

SO, maybe I am not good with people, men in particular, I dunno, I don't need this, I don't understand this, I don't want this in my life. I want to binge and go to bed. (I know, I know, skip the binge)

looking before I speak (thankfully)

I am sitting next to Evan on the couch. It is about 98 degrees here in paradise. We are hot we are sweaty. I know I personally am showering frequently jut for the 5 minutes of cool. I keep smelling this funk and wondering how he smells so bad. I know he is fairly clean, and then I start to wonder of he maybe swam through something gross this morning, and maybe I need to have him disinfected. He seems to be having the early sympotoms of an ear ache and I know when the devil dog had one last summer her fuzzy ear reeked. OMG! Could that smell be coming from his ear?!?!

Then I look over at him with what I am sure was a totally screwy face of terror/horror/freak show wonder and I spot the wide open funky smelling bag of barbeque potato chips on the coffee table next to Evan.

Oooooopps.

what I get to see every evening

This is the view from the closet. Yes, the closet has a window. Every night I go into the closet to check out the sunset which magically never disappoints. How can a place have a glorious sunset every night? I don't know, but when I am done with this house that closet is going to be a screened in porch where I can sit with a cup of tea and watch the sunset without knocking over the freshly laundered towels.

hershey hell conquered

This is what I saw 2 nights ago. I was down to the wire- looking at two partially filled cookie sheets of unidentifiable puzzle pieces. These are the vague non-lettered shadowy pieces that don't scream out "Hey! I am a Nutrageous!" or "Hey! I am part of a Hershey toy truck!" Last night, I had some quiet time without kids. I told myself I had to find a chick flick on TV and take it easy. 've been obsessing over that puzzle for days and needed to just relax. That plan lasted all of 30 minutes before I found myself hunched over the card table summoning all of my powers of visual discrimination in order to fit those last few stragglers into their intended spots. Eventually I got to piece number 997, and then I looked around. Uh oh. No more pieces. I found 998 under the card table and 999 under the coffee table we originally had all the pieces on. But piece # 1,000 remains MIA somewhere in this underlit room. The husband, in a fit of pity for me, attempted to explore the couch crevices for #1,000, a feat which not even I, who labored for days over Hershey Hell was brave enough to do. Couch diving goes beyond my obsession.

So, I know you have been waiting and here they are....... Me (with greasy lake hair) and Hershey hell in all our 99.9% completed glory.

Hey- I have vowed to get back on the diet band wagon tomorrow and I have still not tasted a 5th Avenue!

sniff sniff, my puzzle feels illegitimate with out it's #1,000.

DONE! DONE! Bwah ha ha!!!

bumming over the possibility

When I finally figured out that it was wheat that made me have diarrhea ( I can not for the life of me spell that word) I went to a gastro guy to be tested for celiac disease. For those of you who do not know, celiac sufferers can not eat any grain except rice and maybe some other unusual ones that you have to buy in the health food store that your kids are unlikely to eat- or even let passed their lips anyway. I have all the symptoms of celiac except, of course, weight loss. When I told the doctor why I wanted to be tested, he said it sure sounded like I had the disease and why didn't I just follow the special grain free diet. Duh, because there are other grains besides wheat, dude! Well, I had the biopsy done and the doctor didn't see anything. He did think how ever that I might just be in the early undetectable stages, and suggested following the diet despite the test results.

Once I was off of wheat I found out that oatmeal bothered me too. I just never knew it because it was being overrided by the wheat. Giving up oatmeal was easy because I only ate oatmeal for the sweet toppings anyways. Occasionally I eat rye crackers. They taste like saw dust and look suspiciously like the crackers a person can buy when feediing animals at certain feeding animals zoos, so I have to really be craving cheese to eat the rye crackers but sometimes I crave cheese and crackers that much. The last time I ate some rye crackers I was sick the next day. Upon further inspection, the rye cracker box informed me that the crackers were made in a facility and on machinery that also processes wheat. I crossed my fingers and hoped that the brand of (sawdust) rye cracker had been contaminated with wheat. Last night I had a different brand of (saw dust) rye cracker, and today I am suffering. Damn.

I am wondering if I do have celiac. I can't get retested because the tests are only valid when a person is eating the gluten (the offending grain protein) which causes the problem in the first place. Since I don't eat wheat anymore because that suffering is THE WORST, imagine food poisoning type stomach pains for 3-5 days after eating, and I barely eat the other less appetizing grains, and I just can't suffer 6 months of eating wheat/glutonous foods just to take the test, I guess I am never going to take the test. Now I can never know for sure.

What I am struggling with is the disease label. Do I say I am celiac even though I am not sure? Or do I just say I don't eat grain? It is my experience that a disease name gets taken more seriously than what sounds like a food preference or "just an issue" or "intolerance". I just don't want to have explain myself. I hate having to whisper to the waiter in a restaurant- or worse keep my fingers crossed when the waiter does not appear to really understand the severity of my situation. I just want this to be easier. It is hard enough to exclude a whole portion of the food pyramid, but even harder to have to tell people about it. If I say I am celiac I will feel like a little bit of a liar without the test to back me up.

I hate being a food weirdo. It gets old fast, let me tell you. I wish I could just go into the diner and order a burger.

a cry for help from Hershey Hell

Regarding the puzzle: I see the light at the end of the tunnel. Eventually I had to clear the spare pieces off of the card table. The pieced together puzzle is so large it almost takes up the whole table surface. I used 2 cookie sheets, the bottom of the puzzle box, a book, and the very large card table sized box that the card table came in. My puzzle stash was sorted by type of image (ie:candy bar print, candy container print, or loose candy) and was delicately balanced around the card table on unstable surfaces such as the couch back or the 36 pound bag of dog food. I threated the kids, since I feared for the puzzle pieces, and I was consumed with worry that the kids would accidentally spill the puzzle pieces down the back of the couch where they would disappear into the couch cushion black hole never to be seen again.

I ran to the grocery store today to pick up food for dinner and I realized that despite the whole Hershey's chocolate product puzzle mania, I do not know what a 5th Avenue or a Nutrageous tastes like. I am however incredibly familiar with the design nuances of each wrapper. I don't think I have ever actually eaten either one. Yes, still craving. I planned on picking one of each up, you know, for research sake, but I unfortunately got into the lane with the Nestle's chocolate instead of the Hershey's. Next time I'll have to try harder.

I should be able to finish Hershey Hell tomorrow, and I'll most definitely be posting a picture when I am done.

What I have learned from the whole puzzle experience:
1. I am very close to needing reading glasses.
2. I am NOT going to do the 513 piece photomosiac puzzle that I have stashed in the corner.
3. My kids sure do like being the center of attention. (Guess who's jealous)