It's that time of the month...

The time when Matt would gladly trade places with almost any person in the world. The time when animals and small children burst into tears when they see me. The time when my mother has been tempted to call the local mental institution/buy me a straightjacket, and iPods have been seen flying across the house. Monster time!

Now, all women can get a little moody, but I have been cursed with the ever loving pre-menstrual dysphoric disorder, or PMDD, which is the evil stepmother to PMS. I am on medication, which I take for 10 days before you know what, but the days between you know what can last from 25-35 days, so sometimes we have to wait for the claws to come out to know that it's actually time. The medicine just makes me regular old B again, not irrational, red-eyed, fire breathing B, but tonight it looks like it hasn't kicked in yet. So everyone should post something encouraging for Matt to get him through these next 24 hours or so, and remind him how nice I am when I'm not slamming doors and growling. That's all, thanks.

Dallins and babies and puppies, oh my!!

Prequel: I am a nanny for the Fabrizius family. Cory and Heidi (dad and mom) run their own business. They have two boys, Dallin (5) and Logan (7). Logan is in 2nd grade, and Dallin goes to pre-school three days a week. I mainly watch Dallin, but they have me do other things when Dallin wants to play with a friend or after school, stuff like that. I've done everything from watch them overnight to tearing down wallpaper, to... puppy sitting.




Remember how my life got unusually busy recently? Well, I started this week by going to work and discovering that my bosses had purchased not one, but TWO puppies over the weekend. It is currently averaging about 5 degrees in these parts, and their home is in the middle of a small remodel, complete with new hardwood floors. Oh, and they have a teensy lawsuit going on. So, I had a couple of minutes of wondering if they needed to be checked into a mental institution. They'd been talking about getting a dog, but I thought it would be one, and after the snow melted. It turns out they went to Casper (nearest pet store) wanting to get one puppy, but Logan (7) and Cory (30 something) both fell in love with a different puppy, and neither could be persuaded to leave without the dog of their choosing. So Heidi made them both swear that she would not be cleaning up any messes, had a brief panic attack, and decided to get both.

This is Cory's pick Chester, a bull mastiff. Hate the name, LOVE the face. He acts like he's just going "Duh, which way did he go doc, which way did he go..."but he is the sweetest, most gentle giant ever. He hasn't yet learned that the door open means go outside, or that you shouldn't run into things with your head, but today he made me really proud by figuring out how to get down some really steep slippery stairs that even little Miss Lacey couldn't figure out. He's going to be HUGE! And I just love his temperament otherwise. He loves people, and is a wonderful cuddle buddy to his crate mate (they do have two crates, but they prefer to sleep in the same one, so cute).


This is Lacey, Logan's pick. She is a yellow lab. I love the name, it's so something that a 7 year old would pick out for a girl. She is a smart little thing, and runs circles around Chester. She plays keepaway really well, and has picked up on pretty much everything puppies should know really fast. I love her ears, and her whole face. She's such a spunky little lady, all of the construction workers fell in love with her instantly. She loves playing in the snow, and has already started to play fetch.

Wednesday was kind of a crazy day because I had a 9 month old I was taking care of along with Dallin and the two puppies. The puppy's main environment is the garage, since Chester doesn't like the snow. Right now, that's also the main work area for the construction crew, so when we let them out of their crates, they have to be watched so that they don't chew on extensions cords and sandpaper and stuff. The baby, Murray, is at pretty much the same stage. Everything he can get his hands on goes into his mouth. So yesterday, I got to be an expert at the one fingered swipe to get things out of puppy mouths and infant mouths. I got bit a couple of times, and I washed my hands about a million times. I also had to change diapers and clean up puddles because Chester refused to go outside and I couldn't find a spot fast enough to put Murray down and pick Chester up... So Wednesdays are going to be crazy for a little while! I'm thinking a baby backpack would be a really great idea at this point. I couldn't even set Murray down in the kitchen because there were tool belts everywhere (drill bits ≠ good chew toys) or the basement because Dallin FREAKED every time Murray got close to one of his toys (youngest child syndrome). The rest of the house was taped off so... I got really good at making peanut butter and honey sandwiches one handed (that's the only thing Dallin will eat with any kind of regularity). Anyways, that's my job. The boy's aunt suggested I start a business called Wright Hand because I do pretty much everything. Tomorrow I will be working in their lab, and next week I get to paint a ceiling. But I'd way rather play with all the babies. Pray for energy for me! 

I'm tiyewed...

Dallin, the 5 year old I nanny for, is normally ready for a nap by Thursday afternoon. That means for about half of Thursday the caring, sweet, reasonable, gentle boy I normally care for has been possessed by a whiney, rude, violent, obnoxious little demon child. Yesterday was no exception, and actually was one of the worse days that I've had with him. Some highlights were us going out to the car and him declaring that he would be walking to wherever we were going because he didn't want to be around me anymore (I kind of echoed that feeling by this point). I was talking to his mom later that day, and he came over and shoved me out of the way so that he could play where I was standing. He demanded that he needed to have a friend over, and when I told him he'd have to ask his mother (she was getting home in about 20 minutes), he declared that he never wanted me to come to his house and I needed to stop "talking so mean" to him. Oh joy. He's such a sweet boy normally that I just have to swallow everything he says and know that it'll all be over once he gets some sleep.

I'm kind of feeling the same way today. I was exhausted yesterday after dealing with him, 2 dance classes, locking all of our house keys in the apartment, and painting his parents entryway. Today, I need to finish the trim so that they can lay tile on Monday. But the kind of paint we need isn't available anywhere around here, so I had to find a substitution in a close color. The ideal paint was paint + primer, to save a step. Well, I found some paint that I needed, then drove away and realized that I'd have to prime first. So I went back and bought the primer, got back to the house, got the car stuck in an intersection right by house, went to the garage to get a shovel to dig the car out, and found a 5 gallon bucket of primer.... Argh! Went and returned primer to the clerk who wished me a much better day from there forward. So, that's my saga. TGIF, because tomorrow I am sleeping.

P.S. Sorry for the whiney posts. It's been a long week.