Category Archives: Sometimes I Can Be So Dense

There is a Fine Line Between Stupid and Brilliant


When Sarah was smaller I would tell her not to touch something and this is what she would say:

 

“But I MUST touch it.  I HAVE to touch it.  I NEED to touch it.”


Do you know where she gets that from?

 

ME.


This weekend Emily was at her dad’s, Sarah was napping and Tyler was napping as well.  So I decided that instead of writing some posts, or catching up on my reading, I would tinker with my blog.  Update some plug-ins; add some plug-ins, etc.


Sounds good, right?


I started at 12:36 PM and ended at 11:30 PM.

 

Did you notice that I was online for 11 hours?!


Somewhere along the way, I lost my homepage.


But I knew that I could fix it by myself.  I just knew I could.


At 10:00 PM Tyler came into the kitchen where I was sitting working on my laptop and he suggested that I call the support hotline.

 

But that would be just too smart wouldn’t it?


I did not call because I just knew I could fix it.  Oh, yes, and I will NOT stop and ask for directions either.


Back when I was on Blogger, I knew that if something went wrong I had about a 70% chance that I could figure it out.  Now that I am on WordPress, I have about a .5% chance.


Last night I saw a whole world of databases, root directories, servers that are just too complex for my teeny, tiny brain, but you know what I did?

 

I HAD to click it.  I NEEDED to click it.  I CLICKED it.


And I lost my entire blog and also my blog dashboard!


So I went to bed.


My head was spinning and my heart was racing and my muscles were tightening.  I watched a taped episode of Letterman which usually lulls me to sleep.  I was almost there, when Letterman turned off and I heard people moaning and groaning.

 

Was somebody having sex in my room? 


I looked at the TV and apparently at 1:30 AM on Cinemax there is some pretty risqué stuff.


Now I was in a pickle.  If I got up out of bed to get the remote on Tyler’s side of the bed, I would risk waking Millie who was sound asleep in her crate.  However, I also didn’t think I could fall asleep to soft porn playing in the background.


So I laid in bed for a bit and pondered my dilemma.


Meanwhile I noticed that the guy on the TV looked vaguely like the kid whose locker was next to mine in the 7th grade.  So I sat up to see if I could see him clearer and made a mental note to Google him in the morning.


Kind of makes me look forward to that class reunion next summer.

 

How you doin’?


With all of these thoughts racing through my head coupled with code, html, databases, index, php, SQL, servers… well… I just burst out laughing because this was just NOT how I had planned to spend my weekend.


In the end, I decided to carefully hop out of bed and change the channel.  I was just about at that relaxed drool stage when our weather radio siren went off in the kitchen.


Just peachy!

 

TORNADO WATCH ALERT!


And I went back to bed.  I had had enough.  Go ahead and blow me away, make my day.  I bet there are no computers in heaven.


I woke up on Sunday and started Googling my problem.


2 hours later I finally called that Support Line. 


2 Hours after that I had a Homepage.


1 hour after that my feed was back on track.


Do you want to know what caused me all of my problems?  Do you?


A plug-in (like a widget) caused everything to go haywire after I updated WordPress 2.9 to 3.1.


I deactivated the Plug-in and voila!  Here is am!

 

Hello.  How are YOU today?


You know if I had something medically wrong with me I wouldn’t attempt to perform surgery on myself. 


When I have transmission problems, I don’t pop the hood of my car and just “tinker” around.

 

Why in God’s Green Earth, do I feel that I am able to fix computer problems by myself?  Why?


Although, I must say, the tech support girl was wonderful and she did tell me that I had to update WordPress on my server as well, but that still didn’t fix my problem with losing my Homepage.


As stupid as I am capable of being at times, I fixed that all by myself!


It just goes to show you, that there is a fine line between stupid and brilliant. (just so you know, I was stupid and now I am back to feeling brilliant.)



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No, Let ME Pay!


**Tomorrow is Feel Good Friday.  Which prompt will you choose?**

I am never too old to learn a lesson.


When I was little, my parents bought me stuff. Duh. They had to, I was little.


Then the minute I got a job, I reciprocated by buying them stuff or taking them out to dinner.


Once I got married and had a family, everything changed.


If I was out with my mom I would INSIST on buying lunch.


I CAN PAY! Let ME Pay!


Then if she wanted to buy me something I would get mad and say:


No, I can pay for it myself!


One day we were out shopping at Macy’s and I saw that the Christmas dishes that I collected had come out with a butter dish that I did not currently own. My mom snapped it up and said that she wanted to buy it for me.


Did I let her?


No. I said that I could buy it myself.


Then my mommy yelled at me.


In front of people.


It was SO embarrassing.


She grabbed the bag in my hand and said, “What is in this bag? It is a bear for Emily. You bought Emily this bear because you knew she would love it and it would make her happy. She is your daughter”


Then she continued…


“You are MY daughter and I want to buy YOU something because I know it will make YOU happy. Do you see how frustrated I am? I KNOW you can buy it, but I want to buy YOU something.”


She said even more to make her point, further embarrassing me…


“From this point on you will stop arguing with me and just let me buy you something or I will NEVER EVER try to buy you anything EVER again.”


What did I do?


I let her buy me the butter dish.


Then I took her to the Coach store.


How do YOU feel about your parents buying you stuff? Do you let them, or does your pride get in the way?

Things That Go Bump in the Night


Well, if they do go bump, I surely can’t hear them.


Yes, I am blessed to be a ridiculously, sound sleeper. One might say I even sleep like a log. What does that mean anyway? Logs don’t sleep, yet I have been using that phrase for almost my entire life.

Is this log sleeping? 

 

Since I am such a sound sleeper, I worry that I will not wake up on the rare occasion that either of the girls may need me. To that extent, even though Emily’s room is right next to ours, I kept her baby monitor on until she was 6 years old, just in case.


Silly, or smart?


I will not wake up to branches hitting our window in a bad storm, or the dog barking on Tyler’s side of the bed, but the softest whisper of “Mommy” on the monitor and I sit bolt upright.


I think the reason I sleep so well is that we have a security system. No bump in the night is going to wake me. If it doesn’t set off the alarm, it is nothing to worry about.


The Siren


When I bought this house I immediately had a security system put in. Being a single mother living alone, it was a no brainer for me. I had grown up with one and knew that I needed the assurance of knowing my house was intruder free.


What I didn’t know was that the original owners had installed a bullhorn to magnify the siren to that the entire neighborhood could hear the piercing and deafening noise and come running to the rescue.


One would think that at 2:00 AM and the siren goes off, one would piss their pants. Right?


Intruder! Intruder!


Nope. Not Tyler and Me.


We jump out of bed, Tyler grabs a baseball bat and we run to go and turn that damn thing OFF! Never once have we stopped to think what exactly we would do if there were actual intruders in the house.


Tell them to be quiet so they don’t wake up the girls? Move them out of the way so I can stop the noise? Turn into Ninja Woman and beat the crap out of them?


On average the siren goes off 4 times a year. So that means that 4 times a year we are really 2 dim-witted people.


We wait for the security company to call us and find out if they should send the police while each of us searches the house for signs of intrusion.


Never once in the eight years of ownership has there ever been an intruder. (Knock on wood)


And never once has either of the girls woken up to the sound of the Siren From Hell.


Apparently the girls sleep even better than I. Case in Point:


Emily has a dresser at the end of her bed. This week she kicked it so hard while sleeping she pushed it over. It made a loud and horrible noise crashing to the ground. I was already awake and came running to her room, walked in and yelped, “What the hell!”


She slept through the entire thing. I pity her kids.

The Computer Chip is Mocking Me and Rightly So


Recently, Emily was dancing around kicking and twirling and doing her thing to the Nutcracker soundtrack. I joined in, as I usually do, and we are pirouetting all over the place, pretending we are Prima Ballerinas.


And then I went to kick my leg high up to the sky. And it only got so far up.


What the…?


I used to be able to kick and hit my ear. There must be some mistake, surely.


So I tried to bend down and touch my toes. Thankfully I have long nails. I could barely touch them. So I dropped down to the ground and sat with my legs apart because I used to be able to put my head and stomach to my knees and ground.


When did this happen? Somewhere in the back of my brain I hear “use it or lose it.”


Apparently I have lost it and I am going to get it back!!


Coincidentally, Emily loves her friend’s Wii Fit, so I took this opportunity to get her one for Christmas – no ulterior motives here, by the way.


We were psyched to try it out. I just kept thinking, “I am fit. I am fit. I am going to rock this thing.”


So it starts out and you have to create a profile and they weigh you and do your BMI – so far so good. Then they give you these little tests on balance and strength.


But I mighta coughed and wasn’t paying attention and I didn’t have time to study for the test.


Drum roll please… my Wii Fit age is 37. Is that a good thing? I was kind of hoping for 20-25.


So I took the test again now that I know what to do… but they gave me different activities and I got an age of 40!


What does it mean?? What is the goal age already????


We all spent the night trying out the games and activities. Emily did great. Tyler and I kept doing “I can do anything better than you” and kept trying to beat each other’s high score before realizing this was “family” time and we had forgotten about Emily.


And then we tried the yoga section. We loved it!! And the next morning I couldn’t move my neck from side to side. It stayed that way for the entire day.


Apparently when the screen prompt tells you to warm up before doing yoga, that doesn’t mean to fix your hair in the mirror and make sure you look good.


That night we played again, but I couldn’t do anything strenuous for obvious reasons. It finally was my turn and I step onto the board.


Tyler: Did you hear that?


Me: Hear what?


Tyler: When you stepped on, the voice said, “Ooooh” like you were hurting her.


Me: No it didn’t.


Tyler: Step on it again.


Me: You step on it.


Sure enough, when Tyler and I step on that damn board, the lady voice says, “Oooh”


The Wii Fit board is judging and mocking us… and apparently I am deaf because I couldn’t hear it the first couple times.


Wonder what my Wii Fit Age is now?

Not One of My Better Ideas


Growing up I was considered athletic, sturdy, had some baby-fat, etc. I never thought about weight at all. At age 19 I decided that I wanted to be thinner as I had put on a few pounds. At my peak I was a size 12. I just wanted all clothes to fit. I didn’t diet; I just decided to eat less.


I ate everything; just not a ton of it and the weight came off. Yes, it took time, but each month the results showed. It was great. I was very proud. I am not the type to go to a gym and lose it all there, but I parked my car farther away, walked instead of rode at the golf course. You see?


I got down to a size 2 and remained there until I had Emily. I gained 60 pounds with her, but then slowly the weight came off again and I was back to a size 2. It took almost 2 years.


French bread, mashed potatoes, shakes, cookies. I eat it all, but in moderation. I never deny myself anything. Well… except fried food – never have been a huge fan. McDonalds? Yes, but maybe 3 times a year.


Then I had Sarah. Again, I put on 60 pounds. This time it came off quicker. Most likely because I was much busier with 2 kids. When she turned 9months old, I was back into my size 2 jeans. However, with the increased activity of running around with 2 kids, the weight kept coming off so when Fall hit again, my size 2’s were very loose. I got down to a size zero.


I waited a while before succumbing to buying new jeans, I mean I had worked hard to find great jeans and I really hate buying new ones. But I did it and I was a size zero. I am not going to lie; it put a smile on my face. It was cool. Notice the use of past tense in that last sentence.


However, last year when I was a size 0 I also seemed to get every single cold that Emily and Tyler brought home and that was not fun. So this September I had a brilliant idea. I thought that I would try to eat more and put on a few pounds, maybe then I would not get sick.


But I got sick anyway!!!!!!!


My experiment did not work.


So now I am well and I put real clothes on today after like 12 days of being sick and I had to squish myself into my jeans. Ok, they do fit, but there is a roll of fat popping out at the waist and that is not good.


So now, not only am I behind on Christmas and everything else, I do not fit into my jeans. Boo hoo.


I know, I know…. I am probably not getting much sympathy right now. My mother got mad at me when I moaned to her. But I don’t care. I have a 3-legged dog, a MIL who is ill, my Christmas tree still isn’t up and I can’t fit into my clothes. Cut me some slack.


Tyler, you are right. Sometimes I just should not think.

Meet My BFF

When I came into Sarah’s room this morning I found her curled up, on the floor, next to the cold air return. Apparently she must have woken up at some point and went back to sleep by her door. I didn’t think much of it since lately she has been waking up from her naps and then going to that spot. She likes to look under the door and call to us. Usually our cat comes first and he sticks his paw in to her and she sticks her fingers out to him.



So 20 minutes after she got up she whimpers, “Mommy, Sarah hurt! Mommy fix it.” A nauseous feeling came into the pit of my stomach. I look at her and she can hardly turn her head to the left. She is holding her neck.


I feel her forehead. Cool. I check her temperature just in case my lips are not working properly. Normal. No cold. No fever. No symptoms.


Now I know what you are thinking: She simply has a stiff neck. Right? That’s what I thought too. So I gave her some Tylenol, but I still fretted for 20 minutes. Meanwhile she is dancing and drinking her juice and having fun.


But, oh the fretting. Because what if it isn’t a stiff neck? What if it is her glands and she is just touching the wrong spot. So I check her glands. Ummm, they seem fine, but I really only check them when she is sick. Why oh why don’t I check them when she is well so I know what normal feels like? Or maybe it is something worse?


She is still dancing, by the way.


So I call my BFF. Our clinic’s 24 Hour Nurseline. I give her the rundown and she concurs that it must be a stiff neck or muscle ache from sleeping wrong. I already knew this. Well, the rational part of me knew this. The irrational part needed some backup.


It just seemed to me unbelievable that a 2 year old could have a stiff neck. This kid runs 90 miles an hour and trips on her own feet and falls all of the time and has never been stiff once. Go figure.


Now I am feeling silly. This is not my first child. I thought that with child #2 I was supposed to relax a little bit? Be more level headed. I honestly do not think that I will ever be able to relax when my girls are sick or injured. Maybe when they are older… like 30… maybe then I can relax.


I am going to call the Nurseline again. Maybe she can tell me.

Never Leave the House Without a Bra


If you have been reading my blog you know about the post I wrote about the Weekly Love Jar. This week’s strip said that Tyler loves how I am afraid of bees. Huh. Really?! Because I am pretty sure he rolls his eyes and heaves a deep sigh every, single time I flail my arms around and run inside during the summer when I spot a bee or rather, anything that flies and might be a bee. It is kinda sad because I never used to be like that until 4 years ago…


My dad had a kidney transplant at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, four years ago. Emily and I went down and spent a week with my folks during the surgery and initial recovery. Once he was doing well, Emily and I came home to take care of the houses, yards, and pets until my parents could come home 3 weeks later.


The day I got back I immediately went outside and mowed both our yards. (In case you don’t know, my parents are also my neighbors) That was back in the day when I actually liked to mow the grass and putter around outside. It was so hot and afterwards I ran inside to take a shower. Once clean and free from all sweat, I went back out to water flowers and put out the sprinklers.


I was pulling the hose around to the front yard when I tripped over an old bush stump that the previous owners had cut down. Suddenly my leg felt kinda scratchy, and burning. Even back then I was sorta dense and my mind was not on the task at hand, my mind was at the Mayo. I took the hose which had also caught on the stump and pulled it as hard as I could and then I heard it…the buzzing.


There were bees EVERYWHERE. On my legs, on my arms, around my face… EVERYWHERE. Well, what is a girl to do?


RUN AROUND ASND SCREAM LIKE A MAD WOMAN!!!


I do not know what I should have done, but it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. I ran and ran and ran. In our yard, in the street, into my parents yard (where I lost a shoe.) I ran and flailed my arms around and did I mention the screaming?


Finally I tripped (totally like out of a horror movie) and fell to the ground and covered my face and head, which is when I felt them UNDER MY SHIRT!!!!! Oh yes, yuck indeed. Well that shirt came off. I mean, I didn’t even stop to think about that one. Unfortunately, there were 3 little neighbor boys sitting on their bikes watching the whole thing. And it was the one FREAKIN time I left the house without a bra on. Luckily, there is not much to see, I am a 32A and sadly, am barely able to fill it up, but nonetheless, I covered up and ran screaming into the garage which I yelled for Emily to open.


I slunk into the garage and when I stopped screaming I didn’t hear the buzzing anymore. I did hear the boys who had now moved to end of our driveway. One of them said, “Loco” I do not know much Spanish, but I do know what loco means. (Just super.)


Emily ran and grabbed my shirt and dropped it by me in the garage and there were a lot of dead bees inside. I actually did not touch that shirt for a week. I let it lay there just to make sure they were dead.


Once the hysteria died down and I was inside, Emily turned into Florence Nightingale. She was 5 at the time and dipped rags into cold and soapy water and laid them all over my body while I was on the phone with the doctor. The cold water felt amazing and the extra added soap was her own “special” remedy.


I learned a few things from that day:

  1. Bees can live in the ground so watch where you walk!
  2. If you pave your entire yard you won’t have to worry about it.
  3. I need to learn Spanish.
  4. I am not allergic to bees – oh yay! I am, however, deathly afraid of being swarmed.
  5. Running is not my forte.

I have gotten better about bees and being outside. Now I do all of my major yard work in the Spring, before they are crazy and I am vigilant about paying attention to my surroundings. The rest of that summer, well, I didn’t have to water flowers anymore, I just let them all die. Sorry mom.


What about Emily, you ask? Amazingly, she is not afraid of bees. It is shocking. You would think she would be the opposite. I do not know how that happened. I do know that when she started Kindergarten 2 weeks later this is how she introduced herself,


“Hi I’m Emily and my mom got stung by bees and took off her shirt and ran around naked in our yard.”


She told that story for 2 YEARS.


And I have never gone outside without a bra since.