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Part 3 of the Dumpster Diaries: The Upstairs Kitchen is a pain in the ASS and there’s now a BAT in the Basement

If you’re just seeing this post for the first time, parts 1 and 2 are here and here.

I live in a 102 yr old house that is long on rooms (7 bedrooms) and short on closet space. It was divided into 2 apartments around 1929 (hello Great Depression) and we’re the first single family to dwell in the house since then. As a result, I have an upstairs kitchen that I really don’t need and a downstairs one. I have an old servant’s bedroom off of the downstairs kitchen that I use as my ‘closet/clothing room’. I need to gut that room and turn it into another office/studio space for my oldest son… and eventually a playroom/tv room for Maisie when he leaves. My master bedroom is directly off of the upstairs kitchen. I want to turn that space into my clothing room. Currently, it is a storage room for forgotten furniture and junk.
 
Woke up at 11:30 am, not exactly bright eyed and bushy tailed… not long after we’d woken up and I’d given the baby her breakfast, people started showing up out of the blue on my porch.

the first batch of Maisie's callers today... this girl has a far busier social life than I ever could!

the first batch of Maisie’s callers today… this girl has a far busier social life than I ever could!

We had about 10 visitors today- Maisie had a fantastic time.

Got her to nap- FINALLY- and thought “wow, ok, time to start on the upstairs kitchen”

Nope. She woke up within 10 minutes of that thought.

Isn't this cute? Apparently a 20 minute nap is all she needs to leave her refreshed and gorgeous. Wish she'd sleep MORE!

Isn’t this cute? Apparently a 20 minute nap is all she needs to leave her refreshed and gorgeous. Wish she’d sleep MORE!

I was informed by R that he heard a squeaking/rustling noise last night in the basement when he went to do laundry. My youngest son confirmed it today when HE went to put clothes into the washing machine.

Great, we have a possible bat in the house. Not the baseball kind, either.

I can't be sure, but this is what I envision in my head to be lurking in my basement

I can’t be sure, but this is what I envision in my head to be lurking in my basement

So I asked my oldest to watch Maisie while my youngest and I did laundry in the basement. I needed the boy with me as a witness just incase I was bitten by something and died of rabies on the concrete floor. Yes, I am a super chicken. I don’t care who knows.

I WISH this was my laundry room, but it isn't- mine resembles a dark, dank, scary dungeon- with squeaky bat noises now

I WISH this was my laundry room, but it isn’t- mine resembles a dark, dank, scary dungeon- with squeaky bat noises now

We did whites. I separated them and added the detergent and bleach while the (almost) 17 year old looked on.

C: “why are you separating the colors from the whites and why are you putting that stuff (BLEACH) in? I just use the soap”

Me: “That’s why your clothes look dingy when you wash them- you’re SUPPOSED TO separate them first and do this

I shook my head at his comment, because I’ve showed him probably 102 times how to separate/wash these clothes. It doesn’t compute in the male mind, evidently.

We didn’t see any bats- but C could hear the squeaking and rustling noise. I am hard of hearing, so I could not.

I figure, if it dies in the ductwork I will have to call someone to clean the ducts- which I’ve needed to do for years. A potentially dead and rotting bat is all the impetus I need to finally call the duct cleaners.

After a couple of loads of laundry, I said screw it and hauled the boy to the kitchen upstairs. My oldest was still watching the little girl for me, thank goodness.

We threw out SIXTEEN huge garbage bags of things and old boxes, etc- and still did NOT MAKE EVEN A DENT in that room!

this was AFTER 12 garbage bags had already been taken out of here

this was AFTER 12 garbage bags had already been taken out of here- the stove will be junked, too.

I have antique furniture stacked in there and there’s no way I can move that stuff by myself. We have boxes of old dvd movies and games- again, this is not my domain. R needs to sort through them.

there is no rhyme nor reason to the 'storage' in this room

there is no rhyme nor reason to the ‘storage’ in this room

I have a fridge and stove in there, too. I will junk the stove- let one of the scrappers take it- and maybe switch out for fridge for one my dad gave me that’s been in my garage for 2 yrs.

this room actually leads to another pantry full of antique linens and antique fiesta ware

this room actually leads to another pantry full of antique linens and antique fiesta ware

I called it a day after we threw out the last 5 bags, etc. I think I will start on my clothing room downstairs (throwing stuff out) tomorrow instead. It will be easier to look after Maisie at the same time if I do that room. All of the things in my clothing room are MINE and I don’t need help with that.

Wardrobe to Narnia. I am half-tempted to go there and leave this hell hole I call a house.

Wardrobe to Narnia.
I am half-tempted to go there and leave this hell hole I call a house.

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Maisie’s Newest Silver Baby Bracelets from Claire Lush Designs!

New Silver Cuff Bracelets from Claire Lush Designs!

New Silver Cuff Bracelets from Claire Lush Designs!

 

Got more baby jewelry swag in the mail today from Claire Lush Designs!

In today’s package, she received a V-shaped silver cuff and a heavier silver patterned cuff, plus two thin silver cuffs for a friend’s daughter.

They look ADORABLE on Maisie.  I had to move the Puravida bracelets over to the other hand, which is no mean feat when you have a squirming 10 month old.

A happy Maisie with Papa (my dad)

A happy Maisie with Papa (my dad)

My parents were here visiting, so photos were snapped with the kid only in her diaper and jewelry. She’s going through a “MAMAMAMAMAMAMA” phase and doesn’t want anyone but me usually, so it’s a good thing when people visit and she goes to them- gives me a slight break, which I sorely need.  She refused to nap for 2 days and finally went down for one this afternoon.

She only seems to have 2 speeds lately:  “Pick ME UP!” or “DANCE TIME!”

Here is a video of her dancing with my parents in the background:

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Miss Maisie Update: Today the separation anxiety was OFF THE CHARTS. How Do You Handle Separation Anxiety?

Maisie was 10 months old this week and the separation anxiety phase has been in full swing for a while now. I am never more than a few feet away from her at any given time. We have been practicing attachment parenting with this girly. She’s not a great fan of carriers. She NEEDS TO BE IN A ROOM FULL OF people. This girl LIVES to entertain.

If anyone tries to leave the room or go home or pee, she melts DOWN.

Today she was in rare form, poor baby.

Exhibit ONE, when my dad attempted to leave the porch to refill his coffee cup:

Papa returns, but she is still ticked off that he left… I think my dad is onto something when he says she doesn’t want to lose any of her entourage:

The world finally ends when her father leaves for work:

I am open to ANY suggestions regarding how to survive this stage.

How do/did YOU handle this separation anxiety phase?

I don’t recall it being this difficult with her brothers.

If you have any advice or war stories to share, feel free to leave a comment.

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Maisie likes to chase our three 150 lb (each) Newfoundland dogs…

Tiberius and his usual look when Maisie is afoot

Tiberius and his usual look when Maisie is afoot

(yeah, my house is a wreck.  I have 3 newfs blowing coat and our groomer is pregnant and hasn’t been able to groom them… sue me)

This kid has been pretty vocal today. She woke up from her nap and screamed:

“GEH UP!! GET UPPPP!!” until someone came to her rescue.

We own 3 Newfoundland dogs.  Their names are Berry (short for Strawberry), Scucca (pronounced “SHOOKA”), and Tiberius. They were my babies until she came along. The dogs weigh about 150 lbs (75 kilos-ish) a piece.  They are also TERRIFIED of the human puppy who chases them in her walker, on her knees, you name it… and tries to love them/pull their tails/drink out of their water bowls.

If you put them in the kitchen and shut the door, she will RAM her Joovy Groove walker into the door until they’re free.

She ADORES *all* dogs.  Every dog that visits, or is walked by our porch- she is waving, hollering “HI DOGGGG!”, trying to get to the dogs… all dogs ALL the time.

It’s exhausting.

I asked today if she could ‘be a doggie’ and she started barking at me in a convincing fashion.

Of COURSE, I couldn’t get that on video because she’s been Michigan J. Frog all week.

Getting photos or videos of her doing things is like having Michigan J Frog.

Getting photos or videos of her doing things is like having Michigan J Frog.

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Well, the spine doctor scared the sh*t out of me today…

I am not sure if this is true or not, but that's what he prescribed.

I am not sure if this is true or not, but that’s what he prescribed.

Update on the bad back situation:

Saw the spine doc/pain management fellow today.  He said I had 6 choices, most of which included (what he said would be) PAINFUL injections to the spine, while awake- including, perhaps, cauterization/burning of those nerves in the lumbar region where the pain is originating.

I have to bodily drive back to South Bend, IN (where my rheumatologist is) and bring him a physical copy (on dvd) of my back x-rays.  He did not order a MRI.

He talked so fast and was so dismissive, I could not get a word in edgewise.  He blew into my room like a rockstar with his 2 female groupies (“assistants”) in tow.I asked him twice to explain the procedures, but he could just tell me ‘they were painful’ and continued to blow me off.  I expressed my nervousness over what he was saying, he said I sounded MANIC.

Um, excuse me, F*cker, but that was A-N-X-I-E-T-Y, not mania.  I am not bipolar, but I know quite a few others who *are* and that would be an incorrect diagnosis.

When I also told him that I wanted to resolve this and not become a slave to pain meds, because I have an infant daughter to care for- he prescribed Tramadol.  I don’t know much about this med, but he was sure to inform me that it was an opiate.  Yay.

Not.

I paid my $75.00 copay for that consult.  My frustrations with the $1600 dollar shit insurance I pay for monthly are a WHOLE ‘nother blog…

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After A “Certain Age”, Babies Are Hard On The Back… Now Three People Have Their Backs Out Because of Maisie!

Last week, I was taken by ambulance from my living room to the ER.  My back spasm’d and went out.  I have L2-L4 issues and a possible herniated disc.

The ER docs immediately injected me with valium, morphine, and toradal.  I went from shrieking pain to La-la-land in a matter of moments.  They sent me home with a few prescriptions for pain management and instructions to contact my primary care doctor.

Now I am facing months of physical therapy and pain management, which I am not doing well with.  I also *HATE* pain meds. Anything that makes it hard to poop and makes one forget chunks of time is NOT ok with me.

Yeah, pain meds DO ease discomfort, but I am already an exhausted Mombie as it is. My inner control freak would rather opt for bouts on my Teeter Hang Up and visits to my chiropractor.

I need to do yoga STAT, but have to wait for an okay from my doctor.  At this moment, I am not supposed to lift her, nor bend/twist for SIX FREAKING WEEKS.

Not going to happen… impossible.  I have a 10 month old baby who is going through her ‘separation anxiety- mamamamamaaaa!!!’ stage.

Fast forward to this week:

The good news is that I am feeling much better, with occasional doses of meds-lots of inversion table time- and bed rest.  The bad news is that I had week-long family visiting from Houston, TX and one of them put THEIR BACK out picking up the baby.  They’re on their way to the airport in Chicago as I type this and I feel horrible that they are in so much pain.

Also, my ‘manny’ (yeah, had one for the last five months) ALSO put HIS back out this month from picking up my little beastie!  He is better, but has occasional issues and will be leaving some time this month for must needed rest and relaxation.

I am hoping to get my back and core back in shape so that I can handle this baby alone when the help goes. In the meantime, I have been lifting her/carrying her occasionally.

Unfortunately, she has to learn to be put down more. It’s a process…

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So, I posted in this over 40s Moms support group on Facebook and all HELL broke loose…

… when I posted a link to my previous blog post, about my kid’s nickname.

It was split about 70/30ish = people who understood my rant vs. people who did not.

The ones who did not were BRUTAL, and not in a ‘brutally honest’ fashion.  It was more “shut yer trap, you 1st World Problem Spouting Hose Beast”, then a polite “oh, I was simply stating my opinion- why WOULD you be offended?” when I called them (or others did) on their shit.

I had no idea that there were so many passionate nickname haters out there.  They should start a support group.

Instead, I started my own.  It’s called “Exhausted, Fun, Wine Drinking (Or Not) Mothers Over 40”  on Facebook.

Yeah, it’s a mouthful.    Here is the cover photo:

it's funny, coz it's true

it’s funny, coz it’s true

On my personal FB page, I added this preface to the description of this group:

“If your vagina is a clown car- or not- we’d really like you to join…”

I figured that would weed out the pickier people.

*devilish grin*

I can’t believe how UNsupportive people can be on these so-called “support groups”.  It’s like wading through a cesspool of murky unhappiness just to get to the tootsie pop center.

I mean, if I wanted to have a huge knock-down, drag ’em out fight, I’d go to a family reunion.