This is only partially a critter post

It's been awhile since I've posted about the mundane happenings in my life, so tonight you're getting a heapin' helpin' of it. That is, if I manage to stay awake through the entire post.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Last week the kids were in VBS in the mornings. This is the only Baptist church in town that still holds a daytime VBS and we always send the kids. VBS from 6-9 at night just does not work for my children. Well, it works when summer's just about over and Mommy needs some alone time and oops whaddya know VBS, kids, you are SO going. But that's neither here nor there. Anyway, Monday morning rolled around and the kids all got up and got ready, got the money out of their Giving Jars and off we drove to the church. Only to discover that the age limit is still 4. Kady is 3. And a half. Not to mention she's smarter than most 5 year olds I know. Now, granted it was probably incredibly presumptive of me, but I just kind of figured that they'd let her stay, seeing as how her two older siblings were there. The year Sam was 3 1/2 they let him stay. But noooooooooooo, instead the mean ol' Baptists chose to break my youngest child's heart. She was crushed. I wasn't so much crushed as MAD BEYOND WORDS.

I'm having a really hard time dealing with Baptists these days. I'm not going into a full-fledged rant tonight because frankly, I've cried enough today and I'm emotionally unstable. But suffice it to say that Baptists are very clique-y and judgemental and if you are not a part of the "in" crowd in most Baptist churches then you are pretty much in the same category as the ancient bubble gum stuck under the back pew. Now, I said most Baptist churches and I realize that this is probably not a very accurate representation of the Baptist population of America, but it sure is of the ones around here. Therefore, I'm considering becoming something else. Of course, there are more Baptist churches in this town than any other. Figures.

Not to mention that my eldest daughter supposedly made a decision to accept Christ. Except, she didn't tell me about it. Her teacher told me after the program. When I asked Abby about it, her reply was "Eh. Wasn't something I thought you needed to know." Right then and there I knew she hadn't made any kind of decision on her own. And sure enough, I found out later that it was after a Bible-thumpin', fire and brimstone lecture that the preacherman asked the whole group if they loved Jesus and wanted Him in their hearts. Well, now tell me - how many 8 year olds are going to say no? Not after being scared to death. I'm not whitewashing the seriousness of a spiritual decision such as your eternal soul's salvation, but I also think that it's not something you should be bullied into. I also know my daughter well enough that if she had truly made a decision such as this, she'd have told me. Heck, she'd have shouted it from the rooftop. Albeit quietly shouted because she's kinda shy, but she'd have shouted. So again, another icky taste in my mouth regarding Baptists in general.

So far I've narrowed our church-hopping itinerary down to Methodist, Episcopalian (simply because I just think it'd be cool to tell someone I was an Episcopalian. Am I even spelling it right?) and non-denomsomethingoranother. Non-denoms scare me though....kinda rowdy for this Southern Baptist-raised girl.

You know I'll keep you posted. It'll come into play in a long, drawn-out rant, you can be sure.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

My niece's birthday was last Thursday and my sister has this affinity for Chuck E. Stinkin' Cheese. I hate that place. If you didn't have ADHD when you went in, you're bound to have it when you leave. That was the day the Gout was beginning to get bad and I was cranky to begin with. Then they screwed up our order, lost it, we ended up making the whole group wait on us (I tried to get them to go ahead, bless their hearts) and THEN, while we were all off playing the incredibly loud and obnoxious video games, THEY THEW AWAY OUR FOOD!! Presents, purses, camera, etc were all still at the table, yet they tossed our food. We ended up getting coupons for a free pizza and a bunch of discounts out of it. The manager personally apologized about 40 times. So even though they screwed up, they fixed it. Go Chuck E. and your staff at the Joplin restaurant.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

After we left Chuck's, we went to Lowe's where we picked up my new dishwasher!!!!!!!! That made the insanity of the whole evening better. Plus we got the insultation and flooring for the playhouse that will never be completed. Then as we got home, we realized we didn't have the installation kit the dude told us we needed. But my husband had stopped at a Kum and Go and bought me a Krispy Kreme because I had endured 3 hours in a Chuck E. Cheese and I had a gouty foot, so I was on such a high I didn't care that the dishwasher wasn't going to be installed immediately. Krispy Kreme rocks.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Friday night was our Brownie troop's campout. 3 of the 5 girls were here. The mommas and the boys slept in one tent, girls in the other. Kady decided to spend the night with Grammy. Smart little girl. The ground is really hard to sleep on when you're old, fat and have a foot that is swollen to the size of a small grapefruit. Just so you know. By 4am, I gave up and sat in the tent watching it lightning off to the north. By 5:30 the girls were squealing because their tent blew in. That was pretty funny. So we all moved to the house. Sis and I made breakfast, then the kids played while we three adults tried to watch Sideways, but we kept dozing. I woke up when I heard thunder, ran back to wake Paul up, then ran (okay, it was more of a hobble) outside to start taking down the tents becuase the storm was getting ready to hit. Well, Dad saw the Dad Signal in the sky and showed up just as I was about ready to just say heck with it and leave the tents. He and I managed to get the first one halfway down when Paul ran outside to help. We got them down, but they got wet. So did we. So then we sat on the front porch of the playhouse that will never be completed, drank coffee, talked religion and watched it rain. It was a pretty cool morning.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Saturday afternoon Paul decided to install the dishwasher. Except he had never done it before. I assured him that we could do it. So we unpack the monstrosity only to find that it didn't come with a plug in doohickey. Come to find out, few appliances do these days. That is stupid. Just for the record, I really think that is beyond stupid. So after much cussing, I asked if he wanted me to call Dad. Dad had things to do, but still agreed to come over to help. In the meantime, Paulstarts sweeping out the mountains of mouse poo that was under the old dishwasher. Copious amounts of mouse poo. I just kept saying "TURDS!! Do you SEE all of those TURDS??" It was disgusting. Then he get the flashlight and I see him looking under the cabinets. I asked what he was looking at. His reply: "Mouse nests. Lots of them. Very large mouse nests. Get me the yard stick." With nausea threatening my lunch, I retrieved the yard stick and stood across the room while he scraped out nest after nest. Then he goes, "Oh [expletive]." That is never good. I said, "What did you find now?" His reply: "Oh just a rat." Well, I moved to a chair at that point. Even with my swollen, disfigured foot, I managed to hop up there pretty quick. Turns out it was the skeletal remains of a rat the size of a cat. A cat, people. That is one rather large rat. The tail was nearly a foot long. I could've vomited. I was squealing and shrieking and shaking and I asked, "How in the world did a rat get inside my HOUSE???" Now, keep in mind my husband is a man of few words. He is redneck defined. Very dryly, he looked up at from where he was crouched on the floor, spit into the trash can and said, "Hmm...well, probably through the big ol' hole he'd chewed in the sheetrock," and went back to scraping out more mouse nests.

Who wants to come over for dinner?

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

I went to Ladies' Night last night. I haven't gone in awhile. Just haven't felt like it. I never win anymore anyway. Sis was cranky and sullen and I was just trying to cheer her up with jokes about how delicious the Diet Coke was and how I wondered how many Weight Watchers Points were in a Junior Banana Split at the Sonic and it wasn't working. I walked away from her once and she had miraculously turned $10 into $30. We walked around awhile. Then when I walked away to get more of that delicious Diet Coke, she turned $10 into $80. We parted ways again later and when I heard screaming and squealing around the corner from where I was, turns out it was my sister who had just hit a jackpot of $400. I walked in with $20 that Paul had given me and then got their $10. I walked out with $30. So it wasn't a banner night, but at least I wasn't in the hole. Works for me.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Today was today 2 of Weight Watchers. I don't own a scale and I meant to weigh yesterday morning. So today I weighed in town. How depressing that was. I had no idea just how much weight I'd gained over the winter. But I'm doing really good on it, not hungry (too bad) and I'm peeing like I'm on diuretics from all the water I'm drinking. Flush that fat out, yeah yeah. Sing that, it's funnier. Trust me. I took the kids to see Shark Boy and Lava Girl this evening. Abby walked up to me and very seriously said, "Mom, if you're on Weight Watchers, can you not have popcorn at the movies tonight?" I said, "No, I'm not going to have popcorn tonight." She shook her head and said, "Sucks to be you."