Thursday, April 15, 2010

Oh Those Truffula Trees

But those trees! Those trees! 
Those Truffula Trees! 
All my life I'd been searching 
for trees such as these.
The touch of their tufts
was much softer than silk.
And they had the sweet smell 
of fresh butterfly milk.

And, under the trees, I saw Brown Bar-ba-loots
frisking about in their Bar-ba-loot suits
as they played in the shade and ate Truffula Fruits

He snapped, "I'm the Lorax who speaks for the trees
which you seem to be chopping as fast as you please.
But I'm also in charge of the Brown-bar-ba-loots
who played in the shade in their Bar-ba-loot suits
and happily lived, eating Truffula Fruits"

"NOW...thanks to your hacking my trees to the ground,
there's not enough Truffula Fruits to go 'round.
And my poor Bar-ba-loots are all getting the crummies
because they have gas, and no food in their tummies!"

"They loved living here. But I can't let them stay.
They'll have to find food. And I hope that they may.
Good luck, boys," he cried. And he sent them away.

And at that very moment, we heard a loud whack!
From outside in the fields came a sickening smack
of an Axe on a tree. Then we heard the tree fall.
The very last Truffula Tree of them all!


"But now," says the Once-ler,
"Now that you're here,
the word of the Lorax seems perfectly clear.
UNLESS someone like you
cares a whole awful lot,
nothing is going to get better.

"And Truffula Trees are what everyone needs.
Plant a new Truffula . Treat it with care.
Give it clean water. And feed it fresh air.
Grow a forest. Protect it from axes that hack.
Then the Lorax
and all of his friends
may come back."

Littlest has decided that she LOVES the Lorax. We are attempting to decorate her bedroom Lorax style full of Truffula Trees and Brown Bar-ba-loots. My super wonderful MIL is going to make her a quilt with Truffula Trees on it. We are working on different art projects to go with. 

Only problem is that I am not artsy. Like, at all. So if you have any ideas for super cute Lorax inspired (and super east to make) crafts or whatever PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!!!

UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot, her room isn't going to get better. It's NOT!

Monday, April 12, 2010

Miss Me? Me too.

I know, I know... I've been gone a whole lot the last week or two. A breakdown of my day today should serve as an explanation.

Up late with Oldest last night studying for the TCAP standardized tests that are this week. Woke up with Littlest around 5, told her to get back in her bed before I laid a smack down. Promptly fell back asleep until 7. Awoke to a screaming alarm and Littlest locked in the dog kennel with Chuey. Seriously.

Got boy off to school, ran errands all day with Littest. Returned home to find Chuey in the midst of seizures. Administer Valium for 2 hours without any visible reaction from him. Call vet. Vet says bring him in (go figure). Have to haul the 100lb dog down 14 steps to get to the car using his harness in the front and a leash around his back end. Finally make it down stairs without injury to self or dogs to find BOTH punks have run away to the neighbors. Dog still seizing. Track down punks and get all three loaded into car. Worst. Traffic. Ever.

Arrive at Vet. Struggle to get dog out of car. Two guys leaving Vet see me struggle, shrug shoulders and walk to their cars. Jerks. Vet tech people see me struggle up steps with dog. They do nothing. Jerks. Get dog into building, he promptly falls to floor still seizing. Other patrons start pointing and whispering. No one helps move dog. Get called back to room. Vet tech decides she can help carry the back half of his royal self cause apparently it isn't nice for me to use a leash around his mid-section (she suggests a towel for next time). Excuse the hell outta me.

Vet reads me riot act for not having dog on some other form of anti-seizure meds. I lose temper. Punks jumping off chairs in small cramped room. Littlest starts screeching. I threaten hair ripping (off my own head- not Littlest's). Vet dispenses new meds. Follow-up in a week for blood work as apparently new meds are not good for his liver. Great.

Dog still seizing. Give more Valium. Vet yells for amount of Valium already used. Wants to keep dog overnight on full anesthesia. I say no. Dog regains senses, but not coordination (thanks Valium). Schedule next appointment. Struggle to get stoned dog into car. Get Punks into car. Stop at TacoHell and get Punks dinner cause there ain't no way this Momma B-Dub is cooking tonight.

Arrive home. Get punks fed, dog calmed down, and watch an episode of "Life" with said Punks. Oprah should not have been the voice- it really bugs me. And the whole show seems to revolve around sex. Oldest thinks it funny. Nothing funny about Oprah talking sex. Nothing. Both kids have ticks on them. Gross.

Littlest falls asleep on my lap and I put her in the bed. Study with Oldest for an hour for his TCAP test tomorrow, get him into the bed.

Realize that I never put the groceries away. Begin actual hair ripping. Take Xanex.

Happy now.

Typical day in the Life of B-Dub.