The Bug Chronicles

Background: I do not like insects. However, my dislike correlates with how creepy and crawly they are. Ladybugs, lightning bugs, butterflies - not so creepy or crawly, so I can tolerate them. Spiders fall in the middle as they are creepy and crawly, but perform a great public service by munching on worse offenders. Top of the list: worms, millipedes, anything that stings or harbors disease, etc.

First Installment:

I awoke the other morning and found half of a June bug on the floor. I was perplexed as to where the other half lurked. Shrugging, I ditched it's dismembered corpse into the trash and went about my day.

Later in the afternoon, I noticed that my toddler kept gagging and coughing. That's usually a tip off that he didn't chew his food properly. As usual, I stuck a probing finger into his mouth in order to fish out the cracker or whatever. Nothing. Wait. I felt a small bit in his mouth. So, I proceeded to get it out. Upon inspection of the tiny grain on my finger, I gasped in horror. It was about 1/16 of the 1/2 of the MIA June bug body. Sick. A thought did cross my mind, though. Bugs are a great source of protein. . . . Too gross.

Second Installment:

I use cloth diapers. I have been using them for over a year. We have a diaper pail that we keep in the laundry room. It has a lid. So, there's the set up. I went to wash my diapers as usual. However, the lid was missing. Hmmm. I started the water and dumped the contents of the pail in the wash machine. (@$#(@*&(#!!!!! MAGGOTS!!! Oh J, M, & J! Panic. Absolute panic. I was not about to remove maggot-covered diapers from the machine. My throat tightened. My stomach churned. My eyes welled up with tears. My first thought was to set fire to them. No, not a good idea. I searched the web, hoping that some other person had some hints. There, surprisingly, were others with my same dilemma. However, none offered a solution. So, I washed. I washed and washed and washed and washed. Hot water, cold water, warm water. All day, I washed those diapers. The next morning, I washed them again. I covered my hands with plastic bags and gathered the diapers up to hang them outside. There was not a single maggot. Not a one, not even in the washing machine. Whew. I blasted them in the dryer, just in case. Now, some of my diapers have taken a serious beating, but no worse for the wear. My end thought was that the medical community has been using maggots to eat dead tissue in wounds for quite some time. The nasty little guys will only eat rotten things and leave the healthy tissue. Eventually, they will turn into flies and fly away. Still, so gross. . . .

Let them eat cake. . . .

Background:

I am trying to feed my son healthy foods with the hopes that good nutritional habits will stick with him when he's older.

My son's first birthday was on the 18th. I decided that a store-bought cake or a boxed mix would somehow damage my efforts to teach him healthy eating habits. With that in mind, I bought an organic cake mix and organic frosting, thinking that the natural ingredients would - well, who knows what I was thinking. Cake is cake. Sugar is sugar. Junk is junk no matter how you "fancy" it up.

Anyway, my husband baked the mix. Outcome - a total disaster. Only half the cake rose, some under cooked, some over cooked, etc. The taste was awful. However, I was determined to complete the cake as I HATE wasting food. It became a matter of principal.

I made the frosting. Again, the taste was awful. I proceeded to butcher the cake and stack it into these lopsided layers to make it uniform. The frosting, even after cooling in the fridge, ran down the sides like a lava flow. The weight of the frosting made the layers lean even more. In a last ditch effort to make it look decent, I tossed the stale sprinkles on it. Alas, there was no hope.

We were planning on getting together with friends and have a BBQ. However, the weather was not cooperative, so we rescheduled for the following day. I kept the cake in the fridge overnight. When the time came to set it in front of my little lad, a 30lb. brick was then presented to him.

The frosting was an effective barrier against his little hands. Rock solid. I even tried squishing his hand into the side. It wouldn't budge. My dream of having the traditional baby-coated-in-frosting was dashed. He daintily picked at the sprinkles and frosting for a bit, and then was done with it.

Gus was probably so grossed out by the cake that he may think all cakes are as bad. So, in the end, he may end up be a healthy eater after all.

Coffee

Background: I am a coffee addict - period. However, I require some sort of creamy concoction mixed in in order to imbibe my caffeinated vice.

I awoke early this morning, having slept for six hours straight. (That's the first time in a year; my son is a year old). Feeling groggy, but rested, I proceeded to accomplish menial tasks about the house - an early jump on the day. Coffee was absolutely needed, so I boiled water, ground beans, set up the press, etc. The morning sun filled me with joy as I poured myself a piping-hot cup of java. I opened the refrigerator to get the milk. The milk? Where is the milk!? 86ed. MIA. Gone.

Sigh. Nothing can crush my spirits quite like the stony realization that I cannot drink a proper cup of coffee. The teen must have guzzled the last of the milk the night before. Summer break=eating/drinking us out of house and home.

My husband heard my cry of desperation. While I was poised with a scoop of Ben & Jerry's New York Fudge, ready to convince myself that it would taste like mocha, he intervened. Bless him. Tim left to get milk. That is why I love him.

Tim has a habit of forgetting things. Yesterday, he left the headlights on in the car - again. If I had a nickel. . . . Anyway, he forgot to jump it. No car=no milk. But, being the all star that he is, he rode the teens bicycle to the gas station. For joy! However, my excitement was soon squashed. He informed me that the store he chose did not have milk. Nooooooooo! Wait. He had hatched a plan. They did have Starbuck's Vanilla Frappucinos. His theory was that those are like milk. Just stir that in. Not like milk. Not.

They cost $1.79 each and he bought two. For that, I gasped, you could have just purchased two cups of gas station swill (coffee). Disappointed, I proceeded to mix in the Frap. Not like milk. Not.

However, I am now realizing - how would he have carried two cups of coffee whilst riding a bike?

Maiden Voyage

Well, this is my first official blog. Since this is day one, I shall keep it simple and fun. I've decided to share a Target adventure:

My husband and I decided to get a ball for my son's birthday. So, I grabbed a ball for Gus (my son) and put it in our cart. Tim (my husband) objected, thinking that the ball was not "bouncy" enough. I reassured him and gave it a gentle bounce on the floor. Normal "bouncability" - no problems. I suppose he wanted to double check, so he slammed the ball onto the floor. It hit the ground and then launched upward and knocked out a ceiling tile. After a mild scene, we read the label: Hyper Charged Sky Ball, Bounces up to 75 feet. Duly noted. . . .

On a side note, I am not an idiot, however, there are moments in life that make you wonder how you could have survived for so long.

Picture this: When I was 23 years old and driving home from work on the highway. I pass a Target store sign. Wait. The Target sign is a bull's eye - a target. I physically felt the epiphany strike my brain. I called Tim, and shared my spectacular discovery, thinking that he had missed it as well. No such luck. I initially felt like Stephen Hawking, and then I felt like Gomer Pyle. Those are the things that upset me.