My Dog Eats Greenbeans (And Other Fascinating Things You Wanted To Know About Us)

My dog begs for food (well, she sits and stares at me and camps out in front of the stove in case I drop something) so I typically banish her to the backyard after I feed her to keep her out of the way. Ian also likes to feed her from his plate, he likes it when she licks his fingers. Tonight (while packing lunches, another of her favorite activities) she stared at me so intensely I thought she would eat sand if I offered it to her. So I chucked a green bean. And another. And another. And she ate them all. Weird dog.

Bug Boy used to say black was his favorite color. And red was NOT his favorite. He will not eat red food, unless it is catsup. He once kicked a kid at school for wearing a red shirt because, "He was wearing a RED shirt mom. And red is NOT my favorite color. It makes me freak out." Guess what? Two months later he begged me to buy him red high-top Chuck T knock-offs from the-store-that-must-not-be-named-because-Darling-doesn't-like
-me-to-shop-there-because-they-steal-American-jobs. But how could I resist shopping there when they are FIVE DOLLARS?

Bugaboo likes toothbrushes. Hold on, let me rephrase that. Bugaboo cannot walk by a tooth brush without taking it and running away to hide while he chews and sucks on it. He ruins so many toothbrushes I once bought a case of them to put in the closet. We went through the whole case in six months. There are over one hundred in a case. That is four to six toothbrushes a week on average, for those of you that suck at math.

At risk of TMI, I need to tell you I will never use tampons of pads again. Instead I use these (pun intended). I cannot begin to tell you how much better they are to me, although they took getting used to. I am thinking of trying these, because, yup, I'm a diva. I have friends that use them. They sware by them. Swear, even.

I always thought I would have three kids, even as a kid. Had to have three. And I was going to adopt. Do you think that watching Diff'rent Strokes as a kid had anything to do with it? Except hopefully I will not give birth to or adopt Dana Plato.

My husband's parents have been married and divorced three times each. Darling and his sister are both married more than twice as long as any of his parents' marriages lasted, and we've only been married ten years. Hmmm....

I am one of seven children. My mother had a total of fifteen pregnancies. Seven of those ended in miscarriage, one was a stillbirth. The still birth happened just before me and my middle name is the name they chose for that baby. My mother could not talk about it for YEARS but she chose to tell me as an adult. No wonder things have been so difficult for her! But they kept trying, they were DETERMINED to have children. She had her last miscarriage three years after my youngest brother was born, when she thought she was going through menopause at forty-three. She had a hysterectomy shortly thereafter.

We always had tons of pets growing up (birds, cats, dogs, fish, hamsters, gerbils, amphibians, etc). My favorite are dogs and birds. I had a bird and a dog, then the bird died from fright (fireworks). I still have the dog and I will ALWAYS have a dog, which I am sure will be news to my husband. I hate cats. Except dead ones. Just kidding (kinda).

I love music. I cannot live without it. I have to listen to it constantly and if I am not listening I am humming or singing. My life is set to music and I have songs in my head that represent certain times in my life. I listen to many different types of music, though currently this is my favorite station. I also own a piano, two guitars, two flutes, a piccolo, a recorder and a box full of percussion instruments that I let the kids play with.

Darling loves cars. He collects them like I collect instruments I can barely play. We only have three. He has owned SEVENTEEN cars since he started driving eighteen years ago. He actually owned seventeen cars in seventeen years but last year I put a moratorium on car buying for a year. He has made it eighteen months but currently has been drooling over what he calls a "pocket rocket" and it scares me. I had a bad dream a few years ago that he died in a car accident in a speedster. Silly? Maybe, but I do not want to be a widow at thirty-four so I have been trying to talk him out of it.

My sisters are my best friends. I am not just saying that because they read my blog (although it gets me points, right?). I can call them and discuss ANYTHING and tell them how I really feel and tell them exactly what is on my mind, even if they do not agree. They love me even though I am a big, dramatic, quirky spaz-case. That silence you heard was them tell me I was not a spaz.

Bugaboo has not had seizures in two weeks.

Bug Boy has not had a staring episode or headache in two weeks.

The meds are working right now. I hope they keep working.

I have not taken a shower today and have not decided if I feel like doing it yet. It is nearly nine at night. I hate taking showers, though I do it everyday (mostly). I do not like to be wet, It makes my skin crawl. I was on the swim team at our local swim club when I was in high school.

My favorite foods are potatoes, cheese, potatoes with cheese and cheese with potatoes. I am Irish (partly) and Pennsylvania German (about half). Go figure.

I am addicted to Discovery Health shows about plastic surgery and weight loss. I will never have plastic surgery so I do not know why I watch it. I also read obituaries. The best ones I have ever read are in Salt Lake City. I know, I know, morbid curiosity.

Aren't you glad you read this? I bet you feel enlightened.