Toothies

Sleepy Pup the elder had to go in for a dental cleaning today.

T'other day, I was brushing his teeth, as I try to do with some regularity but also fail at, and I pulled the brush out of the back of his jaw...with a tooth? I freaked out a bit, called the vet, they referred us to a different vet because apparently our new vet doesn't do dental cleanings.

So okay, fine, whatever.

I call the other place and schedule an evaluation appointment and find that it's the vet I loved from our original vet here in Virginny who I had been told retired. (I told her this and she just laughed. Because no she never retired and they're just grumpy she left. Figures. The new vets at that place are horrible, which is why I switched to the new place. But now, if you're able to follow, I'm switching to this one because this vet is amazing.)

Anyway, they poke about, agree that a cleaning is a reasonable thing but that it doesn't look too bad. And we schedule it.

They ended up having to pull five of his teethies.

He is, understandably, a little salty this afternoon.

But his breath is lovely again, so there's that. And I will redouble my efforts to be a better tooth brusher. And maybe, as a fabulous side effect, it'll convince younger boy that brushing is important. (Because getting him to brush is a horrifically bad experience every time. Twice a day.)

Randomness

I keep logging in, thinking I should post something and then...don't. No good reason for it. But whatevs. Let's feed the beast, shall we?

• Last week, I spent six hours at the emergency vet with Sleep Pup the 2nd, fairly certain he'd been bitten by a snake. Many dollars later, we left with meds and probable diagnosis of a hornet sting and, apparently an allergy to same. He's all better now - no more swollen, no more pain. But good grief.
• Because the dogs, I guess, vie for superiority, elder Sleepy Pup gets his teeth cleaned this week. Because I was brushing them t'other day and a piece of a tooth came off. Which did not seem ideal. So yeah. Yay.
• Speaking of the pupps, SP2nd came trotting in for bedtime last night with a hunk of bird -- crow? -- wing dangling out both sides of his mouth. According to the hubs, my shriek had him convinced that snake zombies were attacking.
• Dogs can be gross, is really all I'm getting at.
• Eldest boy took the ACT on Saturday. He's convinced he did horribly, but he always says that, so I shall be optimistic until we get the actual scores. The beautiful thing about his chosen school is that they superscore (and why was this not a thing when I roamed with dinosaurs, I ask? Also, they can use a calculator??) So we have a good strategy in hand for maxing out his final score. It's really all about financial aid (he's already been accepted) but that still feels rather important.
• Youngest boy likes to go to the bird cage and whistle at the birds. Hubby was trying yesterday morning and his whistle had broken. I said to him, "Youngest is the whistler. And I am whistler's mother." And hubby did not get my reference and it was then I remembered I'm a nerd full of facts that I think are common knowledge but that are actually obscure, I guess?
• Hubby's dad eloped (I've gone through the whole thing about this, haven't I?) in the middle of June. We have still not met the woman in question, though we were down that way and asked them to come to dinner, but they declined because "her family might be scheduling something and we wouldn't want to miss it." Even though her family is local and we are not. But yeah. We realize our priority is lower than Kelvin. Anyway, yesterday, father-in-law asked hubby to help him set up a zoom with his siblings so they could meet the new wife that way. I asked hubs, are we going to do the same? He just shrugged. Because apparently it is more important that the siblings meet her than, you know, his actual child.
• It makes me furious. 
• Hubby, however, does not seem to care. So I am letting it go. Because I'm really only angry on his behalf. I don't care about meeting the woman. Or seeing father-in-law ever again, honestly. After nearly 30 years married, I have finally reconciled myself to the fact that he hates me and it's never going to change. So yay?

That about sums it all up. And now you see why I haven't bothered to post. 

Happy Fourth!

 

For all her issues - yesterday, today, and into tomorrow, I'm still awfully glad to be a citizen of the United States of America.

We have freedoms like no other.

We have rights like no other.

We have responsibilities like no other.

My we who live here, remember whence we came and protect the legacy that was started by our Founders.

Teenagers, man.

In...April? Early May? Recentlyish, is the point, eldest boy walked past me and I squinted and asked, "Are your glasses taped together?"

"Yeah," says he, "they broke."

Pushing aside the whole, why didn't you say something conversation that would be much like beating my head against a wall, I said, "Would you like me to see if there's a warranty?"

"Oh. Yeah. Please."

So I call up the eye doctor and there is, in fact, a warranty. Just $50 for a replacement (given the ridiculous amount they cost, that's a steal. Our eye doctor...I like the doctor, but I really need to stop shopping for our glasses there. Except the thought of herding the children to yet another store to do it fills me with a desire to crawl in a hole and die.)

Cool. They order the frames, they'll be in maybe a week, ten days.

They come in. We go get them. They pop out the lenses from the broken glasses and into the new frames and we're in and out fast.

All is good.

Then he heads off to London on his mission trip. Comes home. Goes out with friends the day after he returns. And comes home...without glasses.

Because he wore them swimming.

In a lake.

Because why? No one knows.

Can I wait the 3ish weeks for new glasses from the eye doctor or Costco or whatever? No. No I cannot.

Why, you ask? Well, because he's off on a canoe trip on Friday.

FRIDAY.

Thinking I'm smart, I say, cool, we'll get a copy of the prescription and then head over to Lens Crafters and we'll come home with new glasses. All good, right?

NO. Because not a single Lens Crafters in the NoVa area still has a lab in it. They're now a 7-10 day wait.

When all is said and done, we come home and I order from Zenni Optical and pay more for shipping than I did for the damn glasses and maybe, MAYBE, we will be blessed enough for them to come before he has to leave.

Now I'm off to see about prescription goggles. Because apparently my child needs some.

Father's Day Random

It's a rainy day here around the Sleepy Home this Father's Day.

Eldest left for a mission trip on Friday, so he's off in London today. I checked in via text to remind him to say hi to hubs today and was told he already did. So big checkmark for him. He'll adult yet!

Youngest, hubs, and I took my dad to lunch after church, as per usual. We generally pay (there are more of us than him), so I told him for his Father's Day gift this year, I'd be buying him lunch. He laughed, as was the intent. I then suggested if he didn't like my gift he could pay and he decided it was a pretty good gift after all.

We did splurge on cake for after (Chuy's makes amazing tres leches cake if you haven't tried it and you like delicious things). It's a rare treat (because oh the calories) but it seemed a fitting excuse.

Now, we've all kind of gone to our corners as introverts will. The pups, birds, and I are in the living room. Hubby is downstairs playing video games. Youngest as well. But we're all content with the way of things, so that's good.

Although, I will say I'd rather be in London. If that were an option. (To be fair, I probably could have signed up to go on the mission trip, but a) eldest would have been annoyed and b) as much as I am very pro sharing the gospel, I like mission trips where we go and do useful things like construction. This trip is much more street evangelism focused and that...is just not my wheelhouse. I am amazed how much eldest likes it - and is apparently good at it -- but yeah. Not my calling.)

Anyway, happy Father's Day to the dads out there. Hug your dad while you have him.

I got better...

In some ways, I regret it.

The big problem, you see, of coming out of a giant fog of depression is that it is then undeniably obvious just how much has been getting overlooked and let slide as you struggle to do the things that MUST be done to keep the ship from sinking.

The boys are supposed to clean their bathroom every week. The tasks are split in two and I have been taking them at their word that they are doing it as they check it off their list.

To be fair, in the back of my mind, I knew better.

At the same time? I didn't have it in me to face the inevitable argument that would come from checking on it and then the whip cracking involved in getting them to actually do it (correctly).

But today, youngest said, "My sink doesn't drain."

Ugh.

I went in to look and...honestly, I'm sort of (not sort of) surprised that they are even willing to go in that bathroom. Because just ugh.

I poked at the sink and got some drain cleaner working on the clog and then rolled up my metaphorical sleeves to scrub the other boy's side of the sink. And then I made the mistake of looking at the shower.

An hour later and half a bottle of soft scrub, it's a lot better. But I have learned several things:

1) Don't trust them when they say they have done something. Ever.

2) Dr. Squatch soap is from the devil. It's black and it dyes the tub and tiles. Oh, it'll come off with a lot of bleach and elbow grease but good gosh.

3) My children don't seem to throw away empty bottles. They just kind of ...toss them on the floor and walk around them? Like why? 

I know I have trained them better than this. But obviously it didn't stick and if mom's not riding their tail, it doesn't happen.

Yaaaay.

It's almost enough to get sucked back into the depression vortex.

The Bird is the Word

This bird is such a delight.

Who knew how much I would enjoy her? Certainly not I.

Of course, because I'm me, I'm really overthinking some aspects of having a bird. Like, "Does she need a friend or three?"

The internet is no help. Everything online says "Yes! Your birds need bird friends! Buy allll the birds!"

And I mean...okay! But also, do I really have to fall down that rabbit hole?

The people I adopted her from kept her as a solo bird for 3 years. She seems very happy. She flies around. She eats. She plays. She sings.

You know, all the bird things.

So then I wonder...if I get her a friend or three, what happens if she hates them? How do I deal with bird fights? I honestly have no clue what I would do. Separate them seems like the obvious answer but then...isn't that the same as having a single bird? Or, in that hypothetical case, multiple single birds?

I've already failed in the "Let's have another kid because siblings make life better." format. My kids spend a lot of time separated. Because, real talk, they basically hate each other. Nothing I do seems to help there. People say, "Oh, give them time. When they're grown up, they'll appreciate one another."

Meh. I don't really hold out a lot of hope. But I guess we'll see.

Point being, I've bungled it with kids, so how the heck do I make the decision with a bird?

So I guess we'll see what we see.

In the meantime, I really love this bird.