Rabbit proof fence

We have a rabbit in our garden. I've spotted him several times now. Sometimes when I'm out working in the garden I'll spy him hopping from row to row. I'll be weeding the carrots and he'll be hiding in the beans. I'll inspect the pumpkins and he'll be cowering in the cucumbers.

We have a fence around the garden but the rabbit is able to slip in and out because he's just a baby. He's so cute and fluffy, I just don't have the heart to really try to scare him away.

Plus, he doesn't really seem to be eating anything. The only thing in the garden I've found that looks nibbled on are some weeds. So maybe this is some kind of breed of rabbit that I never knew exsisted. Like a helper rabbit.

What I worry about is that someday this rabbit will grow up and have babies and that the babies won't be so good about not eating my veggies. So I think I have to do away with the rabbit.

I don't know how to kill a rabbit though. Especially not a helper rabbit. Maybe I can just trap it and take it somewhere else. I don't even know how to do that. What do you bait a trap with when you're trying to attract a rabbit that doesn't seem to eat?

Or is the smart thing to do just wait until the rabbit has eaten so much that he can't fit out of the fence and then have myself some rabbit stew?

One year ago Jesse had some karma coming his way.
Four years ago I was very excited about fish.

My most decadent moment

I just realized I forgot to tell you all about the best moment of my trip to LA. Ok, my second best moment. All right, more like my third best moment because the transfer was neat and that has to be first and the cab ride was fun so that's second. But this is my third best moment.

Oh wait, my third best moment was at the airport when I walked by a shoeshine guy and he said "Hey baby. What you doing for the next couple of minutes?" and at first I thought he wanted to shine my shoes but then I realized I was wearing flip flops. I texted the story to everyone I knew, including my IFs because when you get hit on once every eight years you make sure to tell people about it. So that was my third best moment.

But here's the story of my fourth best moment!

The clinic had me take a Valium pre-transfer .... for some reason. I guess I don't really know why but who am I to argue. It made me sleepy mostly. When I got back to the hotel after the transfer I was hungry so I ordered some room service. When my room service came I ate it while sitting on the bed and watching Deadliest Catch. At one point I thought "Wow, I'm really tired." So I laid back and fell asleep. I woke up about 45 minutes later and realized I was still surrounded by my lunch. I shrugged and went right back to eating it.

Now you can be horrified or you can be jealous but that was the most decedent moment of my life and the fourth best moment of my trip to LA.

They like fiber in LA

Cab rides in LA are always an adventure. In all my travels there I have yet to have a cab driver that I didn't think was actively trying to kill me. My most recent trip was no exception.

On my way to the airport I was picked up by a very nice man who asked where I was from. When I told him I was from Minnesota he made it his mission to show me the sights of LA. At least those located between my hotel and the airport.

"This is Sony Pictures Studios!" he said as he gestured grandly towards a large building. "It very big. Make many, many movies here!"

"Ah, yes. I see." I murmured appreciatively.

"This is historic church! It very big! Many, many people pray here!" He took both hands off the wheel and pointed excitedly.

"Very beautiful." I responded.

"This is new mall being built. It very big. Biggest mall in LA. No have big malls like this in Minnesota!"

"Actually" I responded in my most cheerful, please-don't-kill-me-by-crashing-into-the-side-of-a-semi-truck voice "Minnesota has the biggest mall in America. In fact, it's called the Mall of America."

"Nohohohoho!" the man chuckled. "Not mall like this! This mall very big. Mall in Minnesota very, very small."

As we drove into a less grand part of town the cab doubled his efforts as impressing me. Each time he pointed something out he would use both hands to gesture towards it. It didn't matter if we were in the middle of changing lanes or turning a corner. (He would also come to a dead stop in the middle of traffic to yell to other taxi drivers that he knew. He spoke in a language I didn't recognize but it was peppered with the occasional word in English. All I could ever understand was "airport" and "flat-rate" and "hahahahahahaha!")

"Here is high school. It very big. Many, many students in this city."

"Here is museum. It very big. Many, many artists in this city."

"Here is Petco. You know Petco? For selling things for dogs? Many, many dogs in LA."

"Here is liquor store. It ... not very big. But big enough!"

By this point my appreciative mummers had turned to small shrieks of terror. As amusing as I found the man I didn't know if I was willing to die during his very special Big Things in LA Tour. By the time we were a couple of blocks from the airport I was seriously considering asking him to drop me off so that I could walk the rest of the way. We pulled up to a stoplight and I happened to glance out and see a man relieving himself on the sidewalk. I decided to stay in the cab.

And from the front seat came "Here is man taking dump on sidewalk. It very big. He eat many, many fiber."

It was the best cab ride of my life.

Three years ago today Elle crawled.
Four years ago today I thought about the differences between raising adopted and birth children and Jesse did some weird first aid for a black eye.

Afterglow

I am back in my hotel room. The transfer went well. There was some back and forth about how many to put in as we waited to see how many of them made the thaw. In the end enough survived (with one of them doing a "No really! I'm feeling much better!" act at the last minute) that I think we've got a decent shot. Now my two jobs are to lay around for the next 24 hours or so and to then try and resist the urge to take pregnacy tests every three seconds.

The laying around bit I can do with no problem. The not testing is going to be tough. The transfer was 14 seconds ago and I'm already getting the urge to pee on a stick. I guess I better order some room service to distract me.

One years ago today jury duty made me want to slap some people.
Two years ago today I switched to maternity pants and planned another trip to LA.
Three years ago today I laid the smack down on an old lady.

Everyone I know went to BlogHer and all I got was this lousy embryo

Right now the interwebs are clogged with BlogHer posts. Who's going, who's not, what people will be wearing, how big their butts will be, what exclusive party people are going to get left out of and have their feelings hurt by? It all gets to be a little much for people who a) are not going to BlogHer (like me) or b) have no idea what BlogHer is (my grandma). So can we all agree that my BlogHer post will be the very last one of the year? Great. Thanks.

So, speaking of BlogHer..... I'm not going. This was the first year I really thought about going. We would be able to afford it and it was within drivingish distance. The problem was that I didn't know exactly how the surrogacy plans would affect things and then some other stuff came up. I decided that I would not go this year. It was a little bit of a bummer but also a relief The idea of being around all those people I don't know sort of makes me want to vomit in terror. And I guess I could go and hide in the bathroom the whole time but then I worry that people will accuse me of copying The Bloggess and then I will have to be all "I hid in the broom closet and I am pretty sure that she hid in the bathroom and also I never called Dooce a mythical hobbit. I called her a fantastical elf! I need a xanax*."

At the same time, I really want to go to BlogHer. All the people I love will be there. Casey, Jennifer, Adam, Sarah, Jean and all the rest. Look at me, throwing names around like I actually know these people. In real life if I walked up to any of them and sat on their lap their reaction would be "Excuse me, but who in the hell are you? And I think you've broken my thighs." Well, maybe not Jean but that's only because she would recognize me from all the time I spend peeking in her windows. She always tells her boys to make faces at me and it makes me cry but not for long because her kids are cute.

But anyway. I wanted to go to BlogHer but it turns out it's a good thing that I chickened out at the last minute. While all my blog heroes are living it up in Chicago I'll be in Los Angeles attempting to get pregnant. I'll be hopped up on hormones and hoping that transfer number two is the magic maker.

So if you're going to BlogHer could you do me a little favor? While you're at the the BlogHer parties could you have a drink for me? And could you mention my blog frequently to other bloggers that you meet? And when you go to the panels and ask questions could you find a way to work my name into the discussion and mention why I'm not able to be there? And could you pick up some swag for me? The good stuff? I promise I'll return the favors next year when I go to BlogHer and you go to the other side of the country and get pregnant with someone elses baby.

*I say this with all the love in the world because I adore The Bloggess and I am going to copy her and buy a confidence wig.

Two years ago today I was lonely and then lucky.
Four years ago today I boiled my baby.

Great plenty?

Jesse says this thing sometimes that always leaves me bewildered and disoriented.

He says "great plenty".

As in "Don't get any meat at the store, we have great plenty in the freezer already." or "We don't need to get quarters for the garage sale, I've already got great plenty."

Every time he says it I want to respond with "Whatever you say Tonto!" but that seems kind of racist so I don't.

So. Great plenty. Is that a real expression or is it just some crazy thing Jesse made up?

One year ago today I added another chapter in Joseph's adoption story and I was naive.
Two years ago today I didn't want people touching me.
Three years ago today my kids were cute and Elle was bald.

The ultimate faux pas

Long, long ago, in another life, I was a cashier. It was a terrible job. Mind numbing and repetitive and dull. It was made even worse by the fact that the store I worked in was located in Cracky McCracktown. The customers were an interesting mix of drunks, crackheads, lowlifes and 98 year old women who paid paid for everything with pennies and tried to use 43 year old coupons. It was a bad job. (Here's a tip. When you go to the grocery store make an effort to treat your cashier like a human being. You will probably be the first non-asshole to cross her path all day.)

One day when I was at work a couple came running into the store. "He's got a knife! He's after us!" the woman shouted.

"Yeah" the man added helpfully. "He's got a knife and he's coming in here!"

The other cashiers and I looked at each other, unsure what to do. We didn't see anyone coming with a knife. None of the other customers seemed to be reacting. Slowly the other cashiers and I returned to what we had been doing. If that seems like an odd reaction I should tell you that the man who had ran in shouting had gone to the pharmacy and the woman had grabbed a cart and started shopping.

A couple of minutes passed and I happened to glance towards the front door just as a large man holding a large knife walked in.

Now I don't want to get all "You think that's a knife? This is a knife!" on you but this was a knife. It was long and sharp and had a wicked curved point at the end.

"Sandy!" I frantically hissed to the cashier next to me. "There's a man with a knife!"

I think I was looking for someone to tell me what to do but Sandy was no help. She turned white and looked back at me helplessly. "What do we do?" she whispered.

Because of the way the store was laid out most of the people there had no idea what was going on. The people at the customer service desk (where the phones were located) couldn't see the man. Most of the customers didn't realize anything unusual was going on. The cashiers were the first to realize what was happening but none of us knew what to do. We all just sort of froze.

The man paced back and forth across the front of the store. It seemed clear that he was looking for the couple that had run into the store just a few minutes earlier. He walked over to the customer service area. Once he got close one of the women working behind the desk saw that he had a knife and made a face that all these years later I still think of as the ultimate WTF face.

The man walked away from the service desk and the people behind immediately picked up the phone to call the police.

By this time the customers were starting to grumble about us cashiers not ringing them up. "Yes, yes, we know there's a knife wielding maniac just feet away from you" their grumbles seemed to say "but we really have got a lot to do today and these Oreos aren't going to ring themselves up."

Even stranger than that was that some of the cashiers actually went back to ringing people up. I think we were all just hoping that if we ignored the man with knife he would just go away. Luck was not with us. The woman who had run in yelling came walking up the aisle with her shopping cart and the man spotted her.

"AHA!" she shouted to no one in particular. "I told you he was after us!" She looked oddly triumphant and it seemed to me that the time for "I told you so" was not when a man with a knife was after you. This didn't occur to her. She continued "He's mad because he says I owe him food stamps but I'm not giving him shit and he's after me with a knife!"

The large man started moving towards the woman, slowly at first but them faster and faster. She abandoned her shopping cart and backed up, still yelling how she didn't own him anything.

Now this is the point where the customers and cashiers should have done something like, perhaps, flee. We didn't. We just stood there. Well, most of us did. I found out later that one stock boy had opened up a back door and was herding customers out the back entrance to get them away from the front where the man with the knife was. The rest of us were utterly useless.

It's worth mentioning that the entire time this was going on there was a 98 year old woman at the front of my line counting out exact change to pay for her groceries. I am not kidding you, I swear that it's true. She never even noticed the commotion around her because she was too busy digging in her purse for pennies.

Things quickly got scarier as the man with the knife really started to chase the woman. She darted between customers and behind cash registers. The man kept coming after her. She stopped six inches in front of me and yelled again that she didn't owe him anything and that he wasn't getting her food stamps. The man started the come closer. The old lady in my line continued to count out change. The cashier next to me grabbed the old lady and yanked her out of the way of the man with the knife. The old lady looked confused but after the man with the knife passed us she went right back to counting change.

I don't even know how long the chase went on. I just kept thinking that any second the police would get there and this would all be over and I could go back to my stupid, crappy job and pretend that a man who looked like Grizzly Adams had never walked into the store carrying the Knife of Maiming and Blood.

Finally the man had woman cornered and her survival instincts kicked in. As the man closed in on her she threw her cigarettes and food stamps at him. As she threw them she screamed "Here they are Dave! That's all I've got! I hope you're happy Dave! This is the ultimate faux pas of friendship!"

The man scooped up the cigarettes and food stamps and walked out of the store ... right as the police pulled up. They hand cuffed him and he didn't resist at all.

All the cashiers had to give statements telling what they had seen. I went first and when I spoke my voice was shaky and quiet. The officer taking my statement had to keep asking me to speak up so that they tape would pick up what I was saying. I described everything I had seen. When I got to the part where they woman screamed "This is the ultimate faux pas of friendship!" my voice cracked.

I burst into giggles.

The officer looked surprised and then asked me to repeat what she had said. I did and then he had to stop the tape because the two of us were laughing for two straight minutes. When I walked out of the room I had tears in my eyes from laughing so hard.

My fight or flight instinct never kicked in that day but I guess I can at least be glad I didn't lose my sense of humor.

Two years ago today I talked about being pregnant as a surrogate.
Three years ago today Joseph thought I should be a nerd.
Four years ago today I couldn't hear anything but then I could but then I had to listen to whining.

This is why I am boring

I haven't had much to say lately for three reasons.

1. My life is uneventful.
2. For the past week I have had the headache from hell and it hurts me to look at the computer screen.
3. I am busy gardening and preserving food. In the past 10 days I have made pickeled rhubarb, pickled cherries, blueberry jam, strawberry rhubarb jam, dried cherries, banana chips, dried kiwi slices, strawberry rhubarb fruit leather, dried banana peppers, rhubarb barbecue sauce (insanely good) and apple rhubarb chutney. I've also frozen a ton of blueberries and strawberries for use later in the year. I am having a torrid love affair with food preservation.

Other than the preservation obsession I do have two peices of news.

1. We have finally mastered potty training. It took a lot of patience and perseverance and tootsie roll bribes and spare princess panties but we did it. We rock.
2. I have started the hormone shots again to prepare for the next embryo transfer. The whole stupid lung collapse threw everything off for a tiny bit but now we're back on track. Most likely we'll be doing the transfer July 27th. Obviously I'm hopeful it works this time but I'm trying not to think about it too much one way or the other. We'll just see what happens and go from there I guess.

Now I have nothing else to share so I'm going to go outside and sing to my tomato plants.

Two years ago today I posted a failproof pregnancy test.

A notice to the general public

It's really not cool to give a nine year old boy a hard time about the birthday cake he chose. Even if you think it's strange that he chose a Power Puff Girls cake. Even if you are "joking".

You can think what you want about it but in the end it's probably just best if you keep your opinion to yourself. Especially if voicing your opinion means that you're going to be making fun of a little boy* for choosing a cake with female cartoon characters on it.

*You'll notice that I don't pull the "way to make fun of an autistic kid!" card even though I totally could.

Two years ago today people asked me dumb questions about parenting an adopted child and Elle was cute even when she cried.

Nine

My baby is nine today. I kind of can't even believe that. I can so clearly remember him as a tiny baby. He still seems tiny to me. I guess that might be because he is tiny. Only in size though. In spirit this kid is a giant.

I don't have time to say too much here. Joseph and I are going to play MySims Racing now. (And he will probably kick my butt because I am now an old lady with a nine year old child.)

One year ago today Joseph turned eight and was insane and I added a sad chapter in Joseph's adoption story.
Two years ago today Joseph turned seven and I cried about everything.
Three years ago today Joseph turned six.
Four years ago today Joseph turned five.

Sometimes Google hurts my feelings

Latest search term to bring someone to my blog? "show me the blog of a person who has a weird vagina and is a weird person"

Sigh.

One year ago today I hated that damned Dixie paper plate commercial.
Two years ago today I had some thoughts on Deadliest Catch.
Three years ago today I had some advice for Nick Lachey.