Wasps are horrible.

I have googled what good wasps do in the world.  I haven’t come up with anything worthwhile yet.

I do have some things to list on the horrible things that wasps contribute to the world.  Stings.  Really painful stings.  Stings that lead to allergic reactions.  Wasps suck.

My son literally ran across a wasp nest when he was about 8, resulting in multiple stings, and a humongous, worthwhile fear of wasps.

And then, as a family, two years ago we had a wasp incident that was so epic, that my children drew pictures of it, and talked about it for a very long time.

It was a Sunday in August, beautiful, warm day.  We decided to take the kayaks out for a couple hours on a nearby slow river, let the kids swim a bit, just enjoy the day.  2 parents, 3 kids, 2 dogs.  What could go wrong?

We launched at a spot that we hadn’t in the past, crowded, random dogs running without leashes, their owners not caring…this may have set the tone for the rest of the day if I had paid attention.  Thing is, we had our dogs with us too.  On leashes.  This was the first time we were going to take the dogs with us on kayaks.  I pictured all the cute photos I’d seen of dogs calmly sitting on their owners kayaks, smiling as they got to be paddled around.

Not our dogs.  Instantly jumping from the kayaks, nearly capsizing us, wanting to swim along side the boat.  Sigh.  We finally wrangled the two dogs, got them onto separate kayaks, and sat them between our legs to keep them still.  Such a lovely, calm first five minutes of our outing.

About 15 minutes into out peaceful float, everyone was boiling hot (including me with my frustration of this not being at all relaxing so far), we began to look for a nice spot to stop and take a swim.  The right side of the bank was labeled ‘Private Property, do not enter’, so we looked to the left.  A beautiful spot under a big tree, totally shaded with a narrow sandy beach, perfect.  The dogs were thrilled, began exploring the area right away between dips in the water.  My husband was beginning to relax, as was I standing in the cool water.  My oldest stayed in his kayak floating, and my two girls began to get wet in the water.

Then all hell broke loose.

My husband said ‘I just got stung!’  Just then, I had something fly between my sunglasses and my eye, I dropped my glasses into the water, and looked up to see tons of wasps flying around us.  I got stung on my left wrist, screamed and went under the water thinking that would make it get off me.  Nope, those bastards just keep on repeatedly stinging.  By then, I had a second one on my arm, was screaming like a lunatic, and quickly grabbed them and plucked them off of me.  Amongst all this nasty craziness, we as parents, yelled at the kids to get on their kayaks and start moving out quickly.  I remember clearly looking into the center of the water as my son had his littlest sister on the back of his kayak, both of them staring at me crying as they saw me screaming in pain.  Looking back, I wish I could say I held it together.  I didn’t, not at all.  I was scared, and it really hurt badly.    As we began to follow their kayaks in ours, I have to laugh now thinking of the sight we must have been.  One kayak with my son paddling, my littlest sitting on the back, my middle daughter paddling behind them, both dogs swimming behind them, and then our two kayaks bringing up the back.

As I began to calm, and things settled as we were paddling back, my middle daughter said ‘mom, you have one on your back.’  I asked her to paddle up to me and take her paddle and swipe it off.  She did with ninja like precision.  Overall, I got stung 5 times.  My husband, 3.  My kids, none.  So thankful for that none.

We did not talk too much on the way back, just paddled quickly.  I began itching.  Crazy itching on my head, under my arms.  My nose got a little stuffy.

We packed those kayaks up in record time and headed home.

I went straight into the bathroom to look in the mirror once we got into our house.  There were welts up and down my arms, under my arms and spreading onto my shoulders.  I calmly broke the news to my husband that we needed to head to the ER, and my youngest looked at me with tears in her eyes and said ‘are you going to die mom?’  I’m so thankful that I had my right mind with me after initially losing it when I got stung.  I assured her that I would be fine, gave her the needed amount of love to make sure she believed me, brought my kids to my neighbors who were thankfully home and off to the ER we went.

The hives and swelling weren’t the thing that got me seen right away once we got to the overcrowded ER, it was that my nose had gotten stuffed up after being stung.  Lots of drugs through the IV got me back on my feet, and some Benedryl handed to my husband for his sting got us headed back home after many hours.

I think it’s safe to say that I hate Prednisone.  I could probably get side effects from Tylenol if that is possible, so to put my body on Prednisone, that was evil.  Not as evil as being away the next weekend when I got to stop taking it, only to be woken up by what I would assume is most like going through drug withdrawals.  Come to find out, the pacing around the room, and feeling like I was coming out of my skin, or about to have a heart attack was the result of the prescribing doctor not tapering off the Prednisone, rather cutting me off of a high dose cold turkey.  Got a couple of Ativan out of it though, still sitting in my cabinet in case it’s ever needed.  The doctor thought I may need a little edge taken off.

Wasps to me so far =

  • Watching my then 8 year old son suffer in tons of pain, to be followed with a fear of anything flying by him in future years.
  • Painful little jerks that just keep stinging until you pluck them off of you.
  • ER visit worthy.
  • A need to carry an Epi-Pen with me always now.  (The ER doctor said that future stings could bring exponential symptoms that may differ than what was had on that day.)
  • A drug withdrawal experience leaving me to feel like a strung out junkie.
  • Making me absolutely lose my mind and freak out rather than pull my s**t together and stay strong for my kids, resulting in them being scared to death.

Wasps suck so much.  And they are everywhere around my house during the summer.

Mike Rowe posted this on his FB page, it is perfect:


You’re killin’ me Comcast!

Hot pokers in my eyes, or calling Comcast again soon. Below is why I would struggle with this decision.

I have spoken to Comcast technical support four times this week totaling over three hours of my life. 

I received a new router tower thing after being told the reason for my slow internet speed was because my old router was, well, old.

Call 1:  I had to call to ‘activate’ my internet after I had already set it up, and activated it online when it worked for 5 minutes.  This was not a short phone call.

Call 2: My son called the second time when the router accidentally was unplugged and had to be reset and the cable unplugged, and so on.

Call 3:  Realized my home phone wasn’t working. Yes, we are the odd family that still has a home phone, primarily for the two children in the family that don’t have cell phones. We never use it, that’s why I didn’t even know it wasn’t working. Resetting, resending signals, 45 minutes later, he needed to reconfirm my account address as he was asking about our second account at a different address.  At this point, I lost it. 

Call 4: When I got to our second address where we have Comcast today, no internet access. Called, and one of the previous three calls about my home service resulted in our second account being disabled by a technican.  Had to reset and resend signals, etc. Unbelievable. 

At this point, if it was between sticking a hot poker in my eye and calling Comcast for technical support, it’s a coin toss. 

Where do we go?

A horrific shooting at a Regional Center today?  I have worked with people with disabilities for 20 years now, and am very, very familiar with the Regional Centers in the areas I have worked at.  I have friends who are social workers at these Centers.  They coordinate the services needed from housing, to schooling, to medical and beyond for babies, children, and adults with developmental disabilities.  The people that these Regional Centers serve have made such a huge impact on my life.  I have no idea what the motive could have been for this.

Not that any motive is ever going to be an explanation, and of course never an excuse or justification.  Horrific acts of taking another’s life?  No one has that right.  I have told that to my children, no one has the right to take the life of another.  Ever.

Yet, it’s happening ALL THE TIME.

I just saw a beautiful picture of Tuscany when I was scrolling through a page.  Do we pack up and go there?  Will it follow everyone everywhere?

Schools, movie theaters, government facilities, non profit organizations.

Where do we go to escape this?

I’ve written quite a bit about shootings.  How horrible.

Below is part 4 of Our Children’s reality, uncomfortably numb.


Best friend/wedding ring. Yuck.

My very good friend asked me the other day if I’d seen the commercial for the best friend/wedding ring.  Um, no.

We have talked many times about the whole husband as my best friend thing.  That’s why this commercial was so extra hilarious to us.  Really?  You need 2 diamonds?  One for your marriage, and one to state you’re best friends?  Yuck.

I made a mental note to watch it on YouTube.

She texted me tonight that she had just seen it again on TV and had I seen it yet.  I immediately went to YouTube.  And this is what I saw:

I may or may not have texted her that I had just thrown up in my mouth.

Again, I’m not a hater.  I love that people are happily married.  I gave that disclaimer in my post My husband is my best friend…NOT.  Heck, I have tomorrow’s date circled on the calendar because it will have been 20 years from the day my husband and I met.  I’m just not into the husband best friend thing, let alone a ring with two diamonds.

I’m thinking it’s a new ploy to get even more extra competitive over the engagement ring.  Did YOU get 2 diamonds?  An extra for being a best friend, or just one diamond because he has a different best friend than you?

Wow.  Whole new can of worms right there.



My 100th Post! How did that happen?

I can’t believe this is the 100th post on my blog.

The fact that I’ve had enough to say about something 100 times is pretty crazy, but also pretty cool.

As my blog states, You can’t argue with crazy is about how ‘Migraines suck, and other tidbits of my life!’

Well, as I look back through these 100 posts, I’ve written a lot about the other tidbits…

Here’s a few of those tidbits from along the way to 100.  They make me laugh and smile.  So, hopefully when you click on them and read them, they make you laugh and smile too!

Take for instance, posts about bugs:

Or animals:

My husband:  

My Recreation Therapy profession:  

My kids/parenting:

Random no real category posts:

And of course, migraines:

There is one thing about this whole blog experience that leaves me puzzled.  How in the world people find my blog from some of the things they search!

Here are some search terms that led people to my blog.  I can’t make this stuff up:

  • how can someone be so drunk that they do abnormal things like peeling wallpaper
  • when moms argue because kids friends argue
  • can fruit fly follow you

and, the one web search that got them to my site, that is just nuts:

  • i promise. I will kill you soon.

That one just makes me nervous!  What the heck?  How did that lead to my blog about migraines?  The internet is weird.  Maybe they got my anti-migraine smoothie recipe and all is good now.  Hope so!

Anyway, 100 is a lot!  And I have my sister in law to thank for this very first post to You can’t argue with crazy:

‘Winning’ (Charlie Sheen reference of course) the endless game of migraines (for this quarter at least)

For the love of dogs…

Since it’s National Dog Day, I thought I’d repost this that I wrote back in January about the love for dogs. Hug your dog today! 🙂

You can't argue with crazy

I’ve had dogs on and off all my life.  But my relationship with dogs didn’t really begin until I was 18 years old.  My good friend/roommate and I lied on the paperwork at the pound to get little black lab mix puppy sisters.  And then became life with my girl Vanessa, and her puppy sister, Jordan.

V1 copy

Looking back, getting Vanessa was one of the best things that ever happened to me.  She was my best friend.  She was with me always.  She taught me a lot about responsibility.  She joined me on long weekend drives for hours.  Sometimes we ended up at the beach, other times, we just cruised and listened to music.  We went for walks, we watched TV together, we did pretty much everything together, and she went many places, and took many trips with me.

When I was in college, she was part of the family of my…

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Accused of being born with a silver spoon in my mouth…

Born with a silver spoon in your mouth = to have a high social position and be rich from birth. (Cambridge Dictionaries Online)

I have told this story to my kids multiple times, each time the outcome is still surprisingly amazing to me…

One summer as a young teenager, my mom and I went on a float trip down the Truckee River from Tahoe City.  We’d all done this trip as a family many times.  This particular time, it was just my mom and I, and we were using a raft that we had brought for the 3 hour trip, rather than rent one from the two companies that pump people into the river on rafts for a nice chuck of change.

We had just recently gone back to school shopping for the upcoming school year.  I was able to pick out one new outfit and one new pair of shoes.  I remember this very clearly.  It was a big deal, this one new outfit and one pair of shoes.  Years prior, and again in future years, there were additional items added to the one outfit, one pair of shoes, but during this period in life, it was one of each, and I knew it was important and to be appreciated.

I brought my new pair of white Keds back to school tennis shoes with me on that float trip with my mom.  About 1/2 hour into our trip, one of my brand new pair of shoes went over the side of the raft, and got carried away with the current below instantly.  I was already a kid that worried in general.  Now, this float trip, I sat in a silent worried agony.  The guilt of losing a new shoe that I knew was worked hard for by my parents was disabling to say the least.  I was old enough to know, that at this time in our lives, replacing those shoes wasn’t something that would just necessarily happen.  I was old enough to know not to suggest ‘just write a check for new ones’ as I had believed in my younger years that as long as we had the paper checks, we could buy things.

Two hours of trying to enjoy myself with my mom on such an awesome float trip with beautiful sights and fun stops to swim, while secretly suffering in guilt and worry was taking a toll.  Forget ‘how do I get from the river through the parking lot with one shoe’.  It was more ‘how do I go to school with one shoe’.  I don’t remember talking about my worry to my mom, I just dealt with, ‘you get one outfit and one pair of shoes’ in my mind repeatedly.

With about 20 minutes left in the raft trip, I was enjoying myself.  I sat on the edge of the raft, feet in the water looking around.  I looked down into the water, and I kid you not, my overboard white Keds shoe was tossing and turning with the current along the bottom of the river, directly under our raft.  I jumped in, got the shoe, and carefully placed it with it’s pair for the duration of the ride.

When I tell this story to my kids, they just can’t believe I found my shoe, what a cool surprise.  For me, when I tell this story, all the feelings of worry and guilt from that day come to surface, along with the sense of relief that I felt in not having to burden my parents with an additional purchase.

When I was in my young 20’s, I worked in medical billing for a large clinical laboratory.  A conversation with another co worker ended with her saying in a snide voice ‘Well, I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth.’  Maybe she had this impression of me because I was a carefree young 20 something that spent her money on rent and beer while counting down the days until a trip to Cabo with my roommates that we saved for, rather than using my paycheck for real life things like kids and medical expenses.  Maybe I had talked about my family back at home, my parents and two brothers that go on cool trips like Hawaii and dude ranches now, and that is why she had this impression of me.  Not sure what exactly gave her the impression that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, but I was offended as hell.

I called my dad that night.  I thanked him for working so hard all his life for us.  For picking things up and making a better life than it even had been before.  When I was a young teenager, my dad’s partner in business literally ran away in the middle of the night with all that the business had, leaving my dad in a situation forced to make very hard financial decisions for our family.  As an adult and as a parent, I can now realize that those years for my parents must have been extremely stressful.  As a kid back then, I was happy.  My brothers were happy.  My dad worked his ass off and was able to enjoy the result of the stock market boom.  A bit of irony that I of course had already moved out of the house when Hawaii, dude ranches, and a Corvette were part of our family’s  picture, but it’s all good.  I’m not too sure what my dad thought about that thank you call, but I’ve always remembered it.

I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth.  And I didn’t like being accused of it.  I think I was so offended by the comment because it took away from how hard my dad, and my mom worked to allow for our family to enjoy, and not to struggle.  And for that woman to just see the end result rather than the work behind it, was offensive and disrespectful. It felt like a slap in the face to the struggles, and hard work that was done in order to enjoy some pretty cool experiences.   A great life, whether in Hawaii, or diving in the Truckee river to retrieve my miracle lost white Keds.


Being sick on your favorite holiday = no fun. No fun meaning, no appetite.

4th of July is my favorite holiday.  It’s probably because the 5th of July is my birthday, and as a kid, the 4th was the pre show to my birthday, fireworks and all!!  I love fireworks, unfortunately, my fireworks were provided by NBC, and watched by me as I laid on the couch:


It all started Thursday night, my back and legs were killing me while watching my son’s baseball game.  I thought I was just tired.  By the time I got home, chills, aches, and stomach pains.  Not a fun night of sleep.

Friday brought a fever, more stomach pains, and way more chills.  It was 100+ outside, and I was inside sleeping with 2 blankets on me.  (Sidenote, I have gotten my fill of HGTV these last few days, which is quite enjoyable.)

Now, when I say fever, I mean a slightly elevated temperature than normal.  I would never be able to hang with a 102.5 like my kids cruise around with not even mentioning they don’t feel good.  But, those chills man, they are the worst, and the headache that comes with it, it had remnants of a migraine headache, which set in a quick panic, then put the nausea and stomach pains on top of all of it.  Done.  No 4th of July for me.

Today is my birthday, and unfortunately we aren’t going to go paddle boarding like planned.  My middle daughter and I had this discussion earlier:

L:  Are we going anywhere today?

Me: Like where?

L:  Like, in public?

Me:  No.

I feel bad, I hate being down.  Although today is the first day that I feel I will make it to see my birthday next year.  I believe I had food poisoning.  Throughout the last three days, each and every time I thought about a lunch I had when I went out with a friend, I dry heaved.  I really liked the lunch at the time, but the thought of it these last few days made me retch.  No other food thoughts did that.  And I had a lot of food thoughts.

Today was the first day I was hungry since Friday.  My husband said he was going to go get deli sandwiches.  Usually, on birthdays in our family, the birthday person gets to choose whatever they want for their dinner.  I would never, ever have chosen deli sandwiches.  I would usually choose something that I don’t get to have often like Vietnamese food, or sushi, not deli sandwiches.  But when he said that, my eyes lit up.  That sounded SO good!

I love to eat.  A lot.  So, as I looked at this sandwich my husband brought me after the day before literally only having 3 graham crackers and a handful of BBQ chips (had to, the salty/sweet is undeniably delicious), I knew I was about to put it away.

IMG_6016Oh ya.

I watched Unbroken with my kids the night before I got sick.  On day 2 of not eating, I thought again about how they were in that raft for so long without food.  Then, I thought about how so many times while watching reality shows like Survivor, that I’m pretty sure I’d get beat up by someone if I were on that show because I’d be dreaming of food constantly out loud.

It would go something like this:

‘Oh man, there’s this place in Pismo, called Hoagies, they have these wraps called the Pismo Wrap…It’s tri tip, curly fries, avocado, BBQ sauce, and paper jack cheese in a tortilla.  All warm and good.  They are huge!  You can’t even finish a whole one!  What I would give for that right now!’


‘My last meal would be at Blue Coyote in Truckee.  I’d order garlic chips, which aren’t chips, think pizza, sliced up in little pieces, with garlic sauce and melty cheese on top.  I’d get a side salad, which has all sorts of goodies in it, with honey mustard dressing, and a double order of Truckee Style boneless wings.  Awww ya man!  That’s what I’m talking about!  Those wings, dip them in some blue cheese just to cool off the kick, that’s serious.’

And then the film crew would cut to me getting popped in the face with someone yelling over me ‘I told you to shut up and quit talking about food when we’re all here starving!!!’

I can’t help it.  Always been this way.  I love food.  It made me sad that I didn’t want any for the last two days.

So, happy birthday to me, my appetite is back!!!

The summer of creepiness and creatures…

Of all the creepy and creature surprises so far of this summer (it has been a bit much), the animal cracker such as the one in the picture above has created the most surprise and confusion.  More on that below…  For now, this is what we have encountered so far this summer:

I believe it was the first week of summer when my daughter ran in and said the chickens had this cornered in the backyard:


 I ran back there to appreciate my chickens fully for their attempt at cornering this thing.  Snakes are my number one fear/freak out, and this is only the second snake we have ever found in our yard in over 18 years.  Once I saw it, and started doing a weird crazy dance of grossing out, my husband took over, and corralled it into a butterfly netted carrier, and took it down the road, across the street, and into a creek with my 2 girls and a friend thrilled to be a part of it.  Yuck.

Next up on my summer adventure with creepiness and creatures was this guy:


As I was walking outside to turn off some sprinklers, I saw this on the cover of our hot tub.  I screamed ‘Whoa!’ real loud.  Pretty sure the neighborhood wondered if we had gotten a horse and it was now running out of control.  Nope, just a gross, inappropriately large beetle hanging out.

There was this:


A wolf spider, that upon seeing it in the windowsill of the office, my son proclaimed ‘it can not live here’.

On to the neat/fun creature part of the spectrum (although it too had a creepiness factor).  As I was talking to our insurance agent on the phone, I looked out my front window at the large tree we have in our front yard, and I saw a paw/hand reaching out of a hole in the tree holding onto a large branch.  I yelled for my middle daughter to come look, she thought it was a squirrel.  Um, that would be a really big squirrel!  Then, a few minutes later, this guy poked his head out:


That night, we discovered there were 4 babies.  Super cute, clumsy little guys all climbing over one another.



We all sat on the grass and watched them for a long time.  Then, when I went back to check them out again, the mama stuck her head out and hissed at me.  Ok, not cute anymore.  I’m scared.

So, through all this excitement and creepiness, this last discovery has left me the most surprised and perplexed…

Getting into the shower, an animal cookie was found by my husband on the tile floor inside the shower.


My husband asked why there was an animal cookie on the floor.  I had no idea.

Of course he left it there, and then when I took a shower later, it made me curious again about why in the world an animal cracker was on the floor of my shower.  (I, did not leave the cracker on the floor.  I instead smushed it up real good so it would go down the drain.  Don’t judge my cleaning process.)

So, I asked my son, ‘Why was there an animal cracker in the shower?’

Son:  ‘What?  I don’t know.  It wasn’t me.’

I texted my husband who had my daughters with him,

Me:  ‘Would you please ask the girls why there was an animal cracker in the shower?’

Him:  ‘L wanted to eat one and B threw it to her.  It fell in the water though.’

I guess that explains that.  Sigh.

I’m good for the summer now, I’d be just fine with no more surprises thanks.