More Puggy goodness. It took forever to get a photo of these 2 when they weren't tearing up the house like whirling dervishes. They are much calmer today. (Thank you, God).

Pug Love - For Heidi

Well, Heidi and Jethro have left for the Junos. I am the official Pug Sitter.

I have promised to post photos of The Pug frequently during the 5 days that Heidi will be away. Bear with me, ok? Oh, and check out Heidi's blog for red carpet updates.

It is 20 degrees out today. 20.
Bliss.

Marni has tagged me to let you all know the 7 songs that I am most into right now. I really didn't WANT to do this, because then you will all know how much of a dork I really am. Since I was tagged, though, it's kinda like being triple dog-dared, and I have no choice.

Punk Rock 101 - Bowling For Soup

Kung - Fu fighting - Carl something or other. I feel badly, because this guy had one massive hit, and I can't remember his name.

Sweet Home Alabama - Hubby refers to this as the redneck athem. I don't care. I LOVE it.

All The Small Things - Blink 182

Don't Leave Me this Way - The Communards - Just TRY to feel down while belting this out!

Raspberry Beret - Prince

Fuck Me Dead - The Forgotten Rebels

So, laugh away. It's all good. Let's see, who can I tag? I tag:

Tod

Dilling

And The Adult In Question

Ruby in Blue

Blue. That's how I'm feeling. This court date is hanging over my head like an ominous dark cloud.
To make matters worse, I broke another tooth today. Right up front. We have no coverage, and I now have a jagged mess in the front of my face, not to mention the pain that goes along with it.
I am trying to stay positive, but it gets exceedingly more difficult with each passing day.
Sorry to bum you out, guys.

Somebody Pinch Me

Pinch me. Seriously. I just found out that the powers that be are filming a NEW V mini series. That's right. 20 years in the making. This is the best news that I've heard in MONTHS.

Even better, Marc Singer, Jane Badler, and Faye Grant are all signed on.

I feel faint.

~~~~Mugshots~~~~

Well, I did it. I made it to the police station, and got my fingerprints and mugshots taken.
I saw the mugshot, and I look like one sad lady. Seriously. I look like an escapee from a country song. You know, ran off with my hubby, stole my bible, and shot my dog.
You'd be sad too. Not only did they take my photo, slap black paint all over my hands, but they weighed me.
Anyway, I survived it without a full blown panic attack.
Thanks for all of the support, guys. I couldn't do this without you.

Check this out.....

Shawn, Kayla, J and I went to the $2 movie yesterday. (We saw Night At The Museum). It's a long 2 bus ride from our house, but for a mere 2 bucks, I'm there.....
Anyway, at our transfer point mid way, we got on the main line bus to finish our journey home. There was a hooker on the bus, a kid, really, trying to do some business with 2 drunken middle aged men. She was really working it, but they laughed her off. I did hear part of the conversation, so I KNOW what they were discussing.
Shawn and I were talking about the little girl hooker on the bus ride home. We were feeling especially appreciative of our girls - clean cut, drug free, hanging with mom and dad kinda girls....
When we got off the bus at our stop, Kayla turned to me and said "Did you see Rachel? She was the kid dressed like a hooker on the bus."
Whoa. Rachel is Rudi's 15 year old step daughter, the one that he raised.
You all know Rudi, right? The same guy that has been calling me an unfit mom for the past 16 years.
I got another letter from him not long ago, accusing me of more ridiculous bad mom crap. Completely outrageous shit. Like how I threatened to have an old lady's son put in jail if she didn't stop harrassing me for the money I owe her. Oh, yeah, and failing to provide the necessities of life to my kids, and watching Jessica fall into a coma and doing NOTHING about it.
Hmmmm......Let's just think on this for a moment, shall we? If I FAILED to provide what is necessary to sustain life, then wouldn't the girls be, um, DEAD?
Ok, father of the year. I wish that I could be the kind of parent that you are.
It's 11 o'clock. Do you know where your children are?

I know that I've been kind of quiet lately. I guess it's a case of - If you don't have anything good to say....You know the rest.

I go to get finger printed on Friday the 16th. It is creeping up on me, and freaking me out. Shawn is coming with me, but I still have no idea of how we'll get to the police station. It is actually out of town, and I don't think that there are any buses that go that way. I guess that we'll figure it out. I feel like vomitting at the very thought of walking through the doors of the police station. Thank goodness for Shawnie.

Kayla and J are on their March break all this up coming week. Heidi, the kids and the Pug are coming for a visit, probably on Thursday. Those are the extent of our plans. I am looking forward to a big dose of pug love, and some quality time with my bestest.


KC may be going to Texas for a few days on or around the 19th. We're still dealing with passport issues, and my darling sister, Posh, has yet to finalize any of the details. This whole trip was Posh's idea, and I can't help but feel like it is just another opportunity for her to show off. Oh well. If KC gets to travel and see some of this big world of ours, then I guess that I'm ok with it.


The most exciting thing to happen in weeks was this. A hawk landed in our back yard and had a mid afternoon snack.

I took this photo from about 15 feet away, but I was in the house, looking out through my dirty kitchen window. I had to use my cell phone camera, so the photos aren't exactly Dilling quality. ( I wish).

It was a little bit like Mutual Of Omaha's Wild Kingdom. I was waiting with baited breath for Jim to come leaping aroung the side of my house with a net. (While Marlin Perkins watched safely from the jeep).

Never happened.

Maybe next time.

Happy Birthday, KC

Last week, Kayla turned 16 and I wrote a blog entry about her. Not be outdone, KC asked that I write one for her. Believe it or not, their birthdays are only one week apart. I wasn't thinking ahead back then.
KC was born when I was just a few months shy of my 19th birthday. I was pretty close to homeless, and I landed in a home for pregnant teens. I think that my parents were secretly happy to have to have me there, because the alternative would've been me crashing on their couch in Smallburg.
I was only about 6 weeks along when I moved into St. Monica's House. It was on a quiet residental street, a few blocks away from where Rudi lived with his parents. His mom was less than thrilled at the prospect of her 16 yr old son becoming a father. She was alternately sweet and hateful where I was concerned. She would let me spend the week end one week, and chase me away with the broom another. She took me out for burgers and bought me track pants big enough for both Rudi and I to wear - at the same time.
I hated St. Monica's house. It was sheer torture for me. We had parenting classes, and chore lists, and sign in sheets. I had no privacy and yearned for my own space.
Rudi and I moved in together when I was less than a week away from my due date.
KC was born on March 6th, 1988. I had to have a C-section after my water broke and nothing else happened. The doctors waited for 12 hours, then decided that I needed the surgery. It was the single most tramatic experience of my life. I slept for 3 days and awoke a mommy.
I loved being a mommy from day one. I spent every waking moment with KC and trusted her with no one. She slept through the night after one week, and I knew, just knew, that this kid was destined for greatness.
My parents were smitten with the raven haired beauty that was their 1st grandchild. My step mom wanted to take a 6 week old KC on a Florida vacation. My sister, Posh, relished the role of Auntie and took every opportunity to spoil her name sake. Even Rudi's mom was impressed with the darling little baby that smiled at everyone.
KC was especially close to my Dad. We spent countless hours at his office, my Dad, KC and I. He taught her one of her 1st words - bucks - and the meaning of it. I seldom left his office without KC's pants being filled with loonies, toonies, or sometimes a 20. She never failed to remind me that it was HER bucks.
When Jethro and Heidi got married in Smallburg, KC was the flower girl. She delighted in being a part of the wedding, and I can still see her marching proudly down the aisle with Jethro's sister.
KC was only about 3 when she was diagnosed with ITP. (idiopathic thrombocitopinic purpura - say that 3 times fast!) We were unsure of what was happening to our daughter. She was bruising at the slightest touch, and was tired all of the time. I took her to see a pediatrician and his response was one of horror. We took her directly to the hospital where she was admitted for what we thought was lukemia. I don't think that I ever prayed so hard in my whole life. We were lucky. ITP could be treated with platelette transfusions, and we had caught it in time. I think that KC has all but out grown her condition, but I still worry when I see a bruise on her.
She never complained about the IV's or the hospital stays. Not once.
KK was born one week before Kristy's 3rd birthday, and KC was beside her self with joy. She has played mommy to both of her little sisters since day one.
KC and I have not always seen eye to eye. I can remember the time that she tried her 'self defence' moves on me when she was in grade 9. Wanna know how that went over?
We are so alike that we sometimes clash over the stupidest things.
We also laugh. Alot. A day out with KC is guaranteed to be fun. I love spending the day shopping with her, or going to the movies, or just hanging out. I have the kind of relationship with her that I have always wanted to have with my own mother.
When you are a teen mom, you become less of a person, and more of a stereo type, or a statistic. My own family expected me to fail horribly, to raise a drop out teen age mom of my very own. I am so proud to say that those people are wrong.
KC is 19 now. Older than I was when I became a mom. She works part time, goes to school, helps out with groceries or a cell phone bill now and again, and makes her mom proud.
She has a good heart, and wicked sense of humour. She makes Shawn and I proud to call her our daughter. I know that my Dad would be proud, too, if he were here to see her.
Happy 19th birthday, KC. We love you.

The Worst Advice That I Ever Got, and other tales of woe

Tod recently asked me about the worst advice that I ever got. No question about it. The worst advice that I ever got is all about Rudi. My parents advised me to marry him after KC was born. My father felt strongly that being a wife and mother would "settle me down" and that it was just right thing for me to do with my life. I actually cried all the way down the aisle on my wedding day. I knew that Rudi was just Mr. RightNOW, and that I was making a huge mistake. Still, so many people advised me to marry him. How could so many people be wrong?
The next worst advice I got when it came to leaving Rudi. Things went WAY south a week after the nuptuals. One week, folks. I was advised (by several people, no need to feel badly, here, anyone) to give it another shot. Most of my friends and family didn't know that I had been hit by him only 7 days after the wedding. Most people thought that I was just being flaky, or that I was giving up too easily. I chose to dwell on the fact that if I had left, there would be no Kayla. Maybe it wasn't such bad advice after all....

Ldbug asked about the cheese. I didn't actually get to make any meals with the cheese, but I was planning a huge lasagna. Not just huge, but epic. An epic meal. I never did get to make my meal...

Dilling wants to know about Heidi, Biddie, and highschool.
We actually met in grade 9 english, advanced, of course. Our teacher, Mrs. T was known to burst into tears at any given time during class, and spontaneously give safe sex speeches in the middle of a Shakespearian soliliquy. To say that we loved her would be an understatement. We adored her and her class.
We also had math class together. NOT advanced. I can't speak for Heidi, but I should have been in the class with the high functioning mentally challenged. Really. I saw some of their work. I could've totally nailed it. With a little extra time and a calculator.
I can't even remember our math teachers name. Mr. Something Or Other. I dunno. He kinda got on my nerves, what with the asking of questions and interrupting my goal of writing My Novel. Heidi sat in front of me, and we cheated off of Deb Van Who'sit.
Nice girl.
I can't really say that Heidi got into any trouble. Not really. I lived in town, and she was more rural, so we never saw each other on the weekends. I used to hitchhike with Donnie past her parents farm house, and wonder what it was like to have a 'normal' family. I can't even count how many times I walked past her house, on my home from the next town over.
There were school dances, though. Every Friday at lunch, our school had a soc hop in the gym. It was all of 25 cents to get in (or was it 50, Heidi?) and yet I still snuck in most days. We would gather by the stage, Heidi, Jenny, Jan, and the rest of us, waiting for them to play our favourite song. Tenderness by General Public was always a fav. I loved the soc hops, and to this day when I hear certain songs, they take me back to those afternoons in the sweaty gym. Those sweaty gym memories are some of my best.
Jethro was there, too. He and I weren't exactly the best of friends back then. He spent a lot of time at my house, but it was with my brothers. He was a semi- permanent fixture at my parents place. He was always getting into some kinda trouble with my brothers. One time, Andy, Mike and Jethro set off a pipe bomb at the school bus stop. In front of the local police station. Luckily for my brothers, my dad's cousin was the cheif of police.
Sigh....
Those were the days.