Short and sweet … well, short, anyway

This has been a helluva week, and it ain’t over yet.

(Sorry ’bout that; the shittiness of this week calls for a little Texas drawl, ya’ll.)

~ Miss Attitude was out of school with pneumonia two days this week.

~ Tuesday evening found me alone (Deputy Dad was working) with all three kids in the emergency room at the hospital in [larger town an hour away, where we go for shopping and pediatrician visits] while we waited for Miss Attitude to get a chest x-ray. Oh. My. Freaking. Gosh. I went into OCD Overdrive as I watched the walking wounded (and presumably contagious!) around us.
(To clarify, I didn’t take all three kids and head to [larger town] to take Miss Attitude to the E.R.  We went for a pediatrician appointment, and he wanted to get a chest x-ray after hearing her junky-sounding left lung.  It was after-hours by then, so we had to go through the E.R. to get it done…which meant waiting in the E.R. waiting room, a terrifying experience for an OCD/anal-retentive mom of three.)

~ SuperBoy is trying to kill us with his Terrible Twoness.

~ At this moment, even as I type this, Deputy Dad is on the couch, alternately dozing and writhing in pain, as he tries to pass another kidney stone. We just went through this two weeks ago. He’s opted not to go to the E.R. this time, as long as we can manage the pain with the spiffy drugs they prescribed him last time.

Hydrocodone Haiku

A little white pill
Taken with some Seven Up
Deputy Dad, sleep

 

More tomorrow, if I make it through tonight with my sanity intact.  At this point, it’s questionable. 

And now a word from Granny Grammar…

In more than two years of blogging and reading blogs, I’ve learned something very important:

Some people just don’t have a freaking clue when it comes to certain grammar rules.

I can easily overlook spelling errors and typos, especially in the informal context of blogging. But some errors are so heinous, and repeated so often, they beg to be addressed. So. In the interest of the public at large and the crimes being committed against the English language with terrifying frequency, here are a few, basic grammar and usage rules.

Your and You’re:

You’re missing your favorite movie.

Your is a pronoun which shows possession, as in Is this your coat? or Your eyes are lovely. You’re is a contraction, a short form of the words you are, as in Are you sure you’re alright? and You’re in a lot of trouble, mister. Anytime you start to write (or type) the word you’re, stop and substitute the words you are. If your sentence still makes sense, you’re good.

There, Their and They’re

They’re looking over there for their mittens.

There is a place or a point; it is the opposite of here, as in There is the cafeteria or Is there more to this than meets the eye? Their is a plural pronoun which shows possession, as in Their car is in the shop. They’re is a contraction combining the words they and are, as in They’re [they are] going to the store. Again, substituting the words they are in your sentence can help you determine if usage of they’re is appropriate.

Two, Too and To

Two bears are too many to challenge.

Two is a number, as in I have two dogs. Too is used when the meaning is “in addition,” as in Paris and I attended the party. Nicole came along, too. OR when the meaning is “more than enough,” as in I’ve made too many trips to the pediatrician or Too many cooks spoil the stew. To is a preposition with many definitions (see link), and is generally used whenever two and too are inappropriate, as in We went to the mall and To what do I owe this pleasure? To is also used to anchor an infinitive (to plus a verb), as in To know him is to love him. (I’ll refrain from going on a rant about split infinitives.) (Okay, I can’t refrain completely. It’s Try not to split your infinitive, NOT Try to not split your infinitive. It’s awkward, and it HURTS ME, PEOPLE.)

A lot

A lot of cars were stuck in traffic.

My seventh grade English teacher said, “If you only remember one thing from this entire year, let it be this: A lot is TWO. WORDS. Not one.” Alot is not a word.

Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve

Perhaps the most horrific crime currently being committed against the English language is the tendency some folks have to substitute the word of for the word have or for contractions ending in -ve. When I read something like, “I was so mad, I could of screamed,” a little part of me dies. Would’ve. Could’ve. Should’ve. As in would have, could have, and should have. As in I would’ve picked you up at the airport, if I had known you were arriving today.

One last thing, folks…

Every time you write if I had of known (*shudder*), God kills a kitten.

~

Tune in next time, when we address Hillbilly Grammar, and the difference between SEEN and SAW!

Haiku! (Gesundheit!), Revisited

Morning comes early
Walking around in a daze
Nyquil hangover

Sniff, blow, cough, clear throat
Veritable symphony
Of nasal noises

Achoo! and Bless you!
Ringing through the office walls
Can I go home now?

Facing the weekend
Three kids, puppy, spouse at work
Is overwhelming

Modern inventions
No cure for the common cold
Poor priorities

Note: This haiku post was inspired by Summer’s haikus for my fellow wal-mart shoppers

Well, CRAP

So, hey, yeah, guess what? I was looking at my calendar in the sidebar over there and realized that it wasn’t showing a post on November 5th. WHAT? I’ve posted every day this month! I’m doing freakin’ NaBloPoMo, fer cryin’ out loud!

As it turns out, I had my time stamp set wrong, and the entry I posted Sunday night just before midnight had Monday’s date on it, because it posted an hour ahead. Geez.

So I’ve gone back and adjusted the time stamps for all the November posts, turning them each back an hour. Which means I look like a big ol’ Cheater Pants now, when I’m actually just a total and complete idiot when it comes to anything involving Greenwich Mountain Time and adjusting for my time zone.

Sigh.

In other news, a cold virus has decided to attach itself to my person. I was trying -TRYING - to blame allergies for my symptoms…runny nose, sneezing, stuffiness - must be allergies! Yes, Just Allergies! And NOT a cold coming on! Because Holy Shit I Do NOT Have TIME For A Cold!

And then came the sore throat. And the achiness. And the generally feeling like total and complete crap.

So, yeah, not so much allergies as a FREAKING COLD. Blargh.

America’s Obesity Problem Summed Up in Six Words

French fries are cheaper than salads.

Open Letters

Dear Complaint Department:

So…yeah…umm…about today… It…umm…totally did NOT work for me. In fact, it really, really sucked. I hereby request a do-over. With…umm…a stand-in Mom? A stunt double? Maybe? Because, geez, I am abso-fucking-lutely exhausted.

Sincerely yours,
LadyBug

~

Dear Guy In the White Truck Who Ran the Fucking Stop Sign and Almost Ran Me Over:

I was not waving at you. I was trying my damndest not to flip you off.

Up yours,
LadyBug

~

Dear September:

You suck. I mean, you really fucking suck. You suck so much that you’ve actually got me using the F-word. Me! The freaking F-Word! I cannot fucking wait until October shows up to kick your sorry ass to the curb.

Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out,
LadyBug

Haiku! (Gesundheit!)

A call from the school
Then a trip to the E.R.
Makes any day suck

Fall on the playground
The spinning merry-go-round
Now not so merry

One sprained ankle and
No medical insurance
That’s perfect timing

Dental appointment
Phase two of a root canal
On the same damn day

Is it getting worse?
Two shitty weeks in a row?
Fuck you, September.

Muscle relaxer
A dose of hydrocodone
Mom’s down for the count.

On the Road Again…

I’m making yet ANOTHER trip to [larger town an hour away where we go for doctor appointments and shopping] this afternoon, to take both of the girls to the pediatrician for sore throats, fever and general unwellness.

This makes [...counting...] seven trips to [larger town an hour away where we go for doctor appointments and shopping] in the last three weeks. We’ve put over $120 in gas in my Suburban in the past TWO weeks.

Through simple supply-and-demand economics, my family is single-handedly driving up gas prices.

We’ll be driving my gas guzzler right to the poorhouse.

Sigh.

Alive and kicking…

Well, really, maybe more semi-conscious than alive, and more stumbling than kicking.

In the last couple weeks, I have…

…made 5 trips to [larger town an hour away, where we go for pediatrician appointments and shopping].

…taken each of the three kids to the pediatrician (in three separate trips, of course).

…ended up in the local hospital’s emergency room at 6:30 AM on Saturday morning^*, only to leave an hour later, without having seen the doctor, and drive to [larger town an hour away, where we go for pediatrician appointments and shopping] to see the pediatrician.

…been swarmed by some odd-looking, flying bug in my driveway; called the Bug Guy; and found out hey! guess what! WE’VE GOT TERMITES!

…spent more than four hours Friday afternoon helping with the PTO Little Caesars Pizza Kits fundraiser, lifting and sorting boxes, sweating like a pig, and trying to remember why I signed up for that?

…attended five basketball games, with five more to go (four last week, three this week, and three next week).

…somehow found myself driving our 70-year-old babysitter and her 83-year-old husband to [larger town an hour away, where we go for pediatrician appointments and shopping] for their doctor appointments, spending the day shushing and chasing Big Boy, and wondering how the heck I got myself into that one?

So, you see. I’m still here. More or less, anyway. Just not feeling very creative or witty lately.

* * * * *

^*Long story short: We put Big Boy to bed healthy this past Friday night. He awoke at 4:30 AM Saturday morning, coughing like a barking seal and having trouble breathing. Very scary. The pediatrician diagnosed croup and ordered a shot of steroids, which helped tremendously. He’s fine now, thank goodness.

Nest-door neighbors

A photo of our new neighbors:

Actually, I’m not sure these guys are far enough away from our front door to be considered neighbors. They’re more like squatters.

Mama Bird and Papa Bird were angry that I was up on a step-ladder, getting a close-up shot of their quintuplets.

I was - no joke - a little afraid they might dive-bomb me as I was snapping pictures.

These birds have set up housekeeping on our front porch every spring and fall, for the past two or three years. They slowly start building a nest, and Deputy Dad knocks it down or washes it away. Then they start slowly building again, and Deputy Dad obliterates it again. This happens every few days for a while, then BOOM! Overnight, the little beasts have built their nest and Mama Bird has laid her eggs. Then we’re stuck with it until after the eggs hatch and the babies leave, and we can once again knock that sucker down.

Now. Before you start in about how mean it is to knock down the nest, and how cute baby birds are, blahblahblah, allow me to present Exhibit A, to show you WHY we have such an aversion to having a bird’s nest on the front porch:

Yeah. NOW you understand? THAT’S JUST NASTY. And if you’d ever had the displeasure of looking out your front door at just the wrong moment, and seeing a baby bird turn around, stick his baby bird butt over the edge of the nest, and take a gigantic baby bird DUMP on your front porch, you’d be knocking the damn nest down, too.