Showing posts from November, 2011

I've got household bugs, filthy teeth and a flying insect issue

by Andrea Mulder-Slater I tend to rant on about a variety of topics. I'm not sure at this point how many of you care but according to my reader stats, I am big in Mexico... and Latvia. OlĂ©! I'd include an appropriate Latvian phrase here but the only one I know is suudu ruukis which, I've come to learn, means "poo dwarf" when translated, and that's just not relevant at all. Never mind.  The important thing is that to help fuel my ranting habit, I have some Google ads on my blog in the hopes that I will one day build up enough spare change to be able to buy myself a cup of coffee - maybe even a latte. But, here's the thing. Google is smart and their ads are clever too -- which is why words like this appear next to my posts.  This makes me laugh but also feel a little bit squirmy. It's like high school all over again, "Hi, my name is Andrea, nice to meet you. I've got household bugs, filthy teeth and a flying insect issue. Wann

Novocaine - fun. Metal probes - not fun.

by Andrea Mulder-Slater My dentist looks like a big screen film star. His teeth make a "ting" sound and light shoots out of his mouth when he smiles - just like in the movies. Okay, maybe I just imagined that last part. Either way, I prefer to see as little of my mouth doc as possible, after having fallen for the " Really, the Novocaine needle will hurt more than the procedure, so let's just skip it, shall we? " trick more than once. Yet, every six months I dutifully make the trek to his office and willingly subject myself to the torture of a teeth cleaning. It's a ritual my husband thinks is borderline masochistic and completely avoidable. He's convinced the dentist tried to kill him once (or twice). His solution? Just don't go. No, not my mouth - but you get the idea... Me : Today is teeth cleaning day. Geoff : That's nice. Me : Don't you feel sorry for me? Geoff : I have to lift and nail 4000 sheets of plywood onto the r

Bugs in your bedroom... like 9th grade math class, only worse.

by Andrea Mulder-Slater I am in the middle of doing battle with a flying insect. I don't know what it is, but I'm fairly certain an earwig had sex with a flying ant. I was just about to crawl into bed when I saw it, sitting nonchalantly on my bedside table - eying my pillow. Normally I would ask Geoff to deal with such things but the poor dear has been burning the candle at both ends with this whole house-building project. At this moment he is fast asleep, clutching a toy dinosaur placed carefully in his grasp by our daughter. Nothing says "Do Not Disturb"  quite like a toy dinosaur in the fist. So, I took matters into my own hands. I grabbed a magazine and with it, inadvertently removed one of the creature's legs. I say inadvertently because really, I was trying to murder the thing - not torture it. I have a conscience. So then it went all vigilante on me and hurled itself into my head. I turned the light on in the hopes that the brightness wou

2, 4, 6, 8 - How do you procrastinate?

By Andrea Mulder-Slater My mom offered to take the girl to the aquarium today. A welcome gesture considering... I have an online quiz to take before Monday, two assignments due next Wednesday and a blog entry about needles (syringes - don't ask) that should have been posted days ago. Meanwhile, because I have delusions of grandeur, I am applying for a freelance job - the rather unusual application of which needs to be submitted by month's end. Oh yeah, then there's I was all set to get to work and say goodbye to the girls when... it happened. "Are you coming too mommy?" I wanted to say no. I wanted to explain to my daughter that I was just too busy to accompany her and her nana to what she believes to be the coolest place on earth. "I can pick up a starfish and give it to you moooooommmmmy."  By this point I'm fairly certain that my 3 year old is psychic. Certainly, she knows how to manipulate me. Life is short - I thou