Peta can suck it.

Behold. My leather.
Le sigh.
Let the decorating commence. Or finish. Whatever.
(Peta can suck it because I probably already ate the cows that made up the furniture.)

Dear Internets,

Yesterday was good. I'm sure tomorrow will be fine. But today was my birthday and it kind of sucked.

Boooooooooooooooo.

Two of my coworkers raise German Shepards. They're crazy bitches, but they can be helpful when it comes to things like Pooh King's recent illness. They've brought me additives for his food to help with digestion, given me hints and tips for feeding to help keep him from yacking, etc. So yesterday morning when they asked how he'd been doing, I told them. He'd been fine since the vet's visit, then all of the sudden one puke incident Sunday morning. They ask more questions about quantity, consistency, etc. Then one looks at me and says, "Well, it sounds like he's dying."

WTF?

When we were at the vet's office his blood work was fine, his x-rays were clear. I'm pretty sure my vet would have told me if his death was imminent.

I told her she has the tact of a bulldozer.

Well, after a trip to the vet's office on Monday, Pooh King got some anti-nausea medicine, a bland diet, and the right to give me the finger whenever I fed him. He did really well until today, and apparently whatever gave him the stomach upset is back. I'm not sure what to do next. The vet can scope his throat and stomach at the cost of my wedding, but I'm not sure it will actually give us information that will lead us to treatment. So, I'm also looking online for some food additives that will calm his stomach. One of my coworkers swears by pumpkin, and I'm going to give that a try. Anyone else have ideas?

In the wedding planning world, there seems to be some progress. I found a cool location that I think will work. We're still going to look at another one, but I have to say I'm pretty stoked about the place I saw this week and its potential for unlimited fun. Like seriously, there are no neighbors to bother, and no reason we'd have to shut down except that our legs give out from all the dancing. Good times.

There was something funny I was going to tell you, but Pooh's telling me he's got to puke again, so I've kind of got to go.

Oh, Pooh King...

One woman should not have to clean up so much vomit. I don't know if Pooh King ate something yucky in the woods (no matter how many times I've warned him not eat things off the ground, he insists), or if there was a problem at the other end, but there was a horrible problem in Pooh King's stomach last night. It made the problem with peanut butter scooby snacks seem tiny.

I came home from spending the evening with PB and The Force to find that Pooh King had blown the contents of his stomach all over the house. 2 floors worth of redecorating the flooring. Great.

Thank goodness for the steam cleaner, because you KNOW my dog has to puke on carpet. Which means I have to clean the carpet. And when Pooh King is too uncomfortable to sleep, I can't sleep. So we were up until 4am, walking and whining, whining and walking, taking turns with the whining and walking. He finally settled down and was able to sleep after that (thank you sweet baby Jesus).

I got up at 11, which would explain these pajamas and the bathrobe I'm still wearing.

Farts can save the day

Last night I got to ride out the end of a full-blown temper tantrum turned nuclear meltdown over bed time. Usually, The Force is pretty good about going to bed for PB. There's a little fussing over wanting to keep playing at first, but then it's over, and off to bed he goes. But last night? Holy shitballs, Batman. The bottom lip came out, the tears rolled, and we were off. PB kept his cool for a good 40+ minutes during wailing, rolling of eyes, nashing of teeth, thrashing of arms and legs, pleading, holding and rocking... then rinse and repeat... at least 3 times. And when the final turn came around, he was ready to lose his shit. He came out of The Force's room and said he couldn't go back in there without losing his mind.

I figured I'd give it a go, since The Force has proven in the past to be true to his name, and is a force of nature when it comes to being able to maintain the momentum of a tantrum. We're talking HOURS here, folks.

I went in and sat next to The Force's bed, talking to him while he sobbed and wailed, kicked his legs and pouting, begging for Daddy. I told him Daddy was too upset to be in there, and that he had to show Daddy that he could be quiet for a little while before he would come back in. No deal. We basically just kept talking in circles until he started winding down. And that's when it happened.

The force FARTED.

Then he giggled. I said, "Is that what the trouble was? You had a toot stuck all the way up your butt and it wouldn't come out? Do you feel better now?" He couldn't decide whether to keep giggling or crying, so he did both for a few seconds, then he belched. Then he hiccupped.

Meltdown officially over. Commence giggling. Then he had trouble lying still. When I told him he needed to be still, he said, "T, this is as good as I can do!"

When I left the room he was still awake, but happy, and knew Daddy would come back in as soon as he was asleep. PB reports he woke up in a good mood this morning, none the worse for wear.

I just hope he doesn't get anything else stuck up his butt. :)

Welcome back Mr. Myiagi

Well, I FINALLY have my computer back! Or, at least for a few minutes... the backlight on the LCD screen burned out, and after trying 2 different replacement screens, I learned that my computer has to have a specific type of screen and can't use a generic replacement (thanks a lot Dell). But my trusty computer guy, Chris, (actually one of PB's best buds) got the proper one in place and working, so tonight, wa-la! I've spent about 2 hours trying to catch up on the blogs I haven't been able to see from my phone. Boy howdy, I've missed you guys!

I'll be back tomorrow to tell some stories. Tonight I have to go to bed so I can try to get to work on the early side tomorrow. There's lots to do, including 2 more visits to the car doctor for George Jetson. Sheesh.

Okay, people, I was just kidding about working 3% less! Our caseload was really low this week, so I got to enjoy my third 3 day weekend in a row. That's right... a low census day on Friday. Fun for me, but not so good for the budget. PB and I ran around a little on Friday then had dinner with friends. Yesterday we hit the gym, saw "Sherlock Holmes" (which is awesome) and had pizza and beer at our friends' new house. Lots of fun! Today I'm doing housework-type stuff, and more hitting of the gym. Blech. At least I have a new book to keep me occupied on the runner, "Such a Pretty Fat: One Narcissist's Quest to Discover If Her Life Makes Her Ass Look Big, or, Why Pie Is Not the Answer". I can't wait!

And happy birthday to my SIL Erin!

I'm not getting the 2% cost of living raise the hospital has given everyone else. Apparently when our little hospital merged with the big hospital system, the big system decided I make too much money and therefore would not be giving me an annual raise. Gee, thanks. Not getting the cost of living adjustment that everyone else gets is tantamount to receiving a paycut. Dirty rat bastards. Chris pointed out that I should not work 3% harder. I think I'll work 3% less.

Happy Birthday Seester!

Dear Seester,
Happy birthday! I made bluberry pancakes, so please come right over and get yours while they're hot. I'll make you any kind of pie you'd like for dessert.
Love, Your Seester

Dear Mom,
I've made you a cup of tea to go along with your blueberry pancakes. Thanks for pushing my Seester out all those years ago. Now, hurry along or it will all get cold.
Love, T

Dear Dad and Ryan,
Thanks for putting up with the 3 of us girls all these years. I know it was sometimes hard to swim in the estrogen ocean, but you did well. I've got pancakes for you and a pot of extra strong coffee. Oh, and I'll put on Rambo, or some other movie where a lot of shit gets blown up and Mom won't want to watch.
Love, T-Bo

Dear Shawn, Erin, and Jason,
You haven't put in near as much time in The Circus as the rest of us, but thanks for running away with us, if not sometimes from us. Wse love having you along for the ride. Now, hurry to the table 'cause I'm going to have to start a 2nd batch. Oh, Shawn, kill something on the way over so we can have sausage or something with all the pancakes. Please and thank you.
Love,
Tiff

Computer still down. Now having car trouble. Happy birthday Pooh King and happy new year to you!