Son Of A Nit!

This is our friends' cat, Grey Bob, checking out some bugs. I can relate.

Today, we found a nit, ONE nit only, on Gio. After being nit-free for over three weeks this was,  to say the least,  disheartening.

A lot of cleaning went down, and nada surf, despite at least three surf reports saying, "It looks fun!"

"I should go surfing, I'll feel better, but I feel to beat down to amp up for surfing in frigid water with a bunch of surf starved frothers, " I say.

"Yes!" says Hubby. "Puhleeeeeeeez go surfing."

I guess I'm not that fun when I'm in lice freak out mode. But honestly, Internet, it didn't take me all day to vacuum the house, yesterday.

"I feel like poking my eyes out with a fork," I say to Hubby.

"Oh yeah, great idea," says Hubby. "Then you won't see the lice."

"Yes, that would be better," I say. But what I was really thinking is, "Sure, I won't see the lice, but I will still feel them."

I felt sorry for myself all day long, until I remembered what happened yesterday.

Last night, I attended a teen drug and alcohol awareness program started by Hubby's BFF. One of the speakers, who was paralyzed in a car accident, said, "if there were more programs like this maybe I wouldn't have gotten into a car with a drunk driver."

She even continues to dance competitively in her wheelchair, and she's working on starting an exercise center for other paralyzed people. I felt stupid when I replayed her words in my head.

Though her intentions were to inspire teens to make safer choices, she inspired me to see my lice really isn't so bad, afterall.

Snowglasses

Today was interesting and long. Not in a bad or good way. Maybe a better way to describe today, without going into detail because I'm exhausted and unable to, is emotionally INTENSE. Yep, that's it. Goodnight and sweet dreams, Internet.

Mariposa Grove, Yosemite

"Go stand by that tree so I can take your picture," says Hubby, to the boys.

"Uh, honey the sign says not to stand near the base of the tree," I say.

"Hurry up get away from the tree!" shouts Hubby.

The California Tunnel Tree.

The Voice TV Series

Vinny and I love to sing this song at the top of our lungs, duet style, of course.

Does that make us crazy? Probably.

This collaboration featuring Christina Aguilera, Blake Shelton, Adam Levine (Maroon 5) and Cee Lo is almost as good as our version. Apparently this musical motley crew make up the vocal coaches and judges on NBC's new TV series The Voice.

"It's basically another American Idol," says Hubby. "I tivoed it. Do you want to watch it?"

"No, I just watched it on YouTube," I say. "Why would I want to watch it on TV?"

"To see what it's all about," says Hubby in a magical voice.

I'm pretty sure TV hasn't been magical ever since I got my IV hookup to the world wide web. Read: Not much comes between me and my Internet Phone, especially television.

"Uh, no thanks, I don't like TV," I say.

"Okay," he says, disappointed. "But, remember I used to watch American Idol with you."

Yes, my husband is a score keeper. I wonder if he learned it from me? But really, Internet, he barely watched American Idol with me.

I believe his words went something like, "I can't take it anymore."

And he wasn't even referring to the hordes of teenage girl voters and their sexless boy wonder winners.

Besides, I'm sure if I watched The Voice with him, I would get hooked, and he would stop watching it due to his strict Six Million Dollar Man Training as a child. He was only allowed to watch the first half of every Six Million Dollar Man episode.

"Time for bed Stefan," says Stefan's Mom, fifty years ago. (I'm not very good at math)

"But Mooooom, the Six Million Dollar Man is only half over," whines Stefan.

"No, buts, go to bed!" insists Stefan's Mom.

Poor Hubby. But hey, 3 million is still a lot of episode, right?

"Who is the Six Million Dollar Man?" ask all the 20-30 somethings.

Don't worry kids, someday I'll tell you about Steve Austin and all of his bionic parts. I promise I won't leave out Jaime Sommers, The Bionic Woman, my first girl crush, or her bionic dog.

An hour later.

"Okay put The Voice on," I say.

I'm willing to try anything once.

"The difference between this show and American Idol is, this show is positive," says Hubby. "It's so cool they are going to help the contestants improve. All American Idol does is cut them down."

In all fairness, I've heard from several fans it's not like that this year on American Idol. Perhaps, because they knew The Voice was coming?

"This is the type of show that will help change the world," says Hubby. "There are two interracial families, and a gay couple!"

Internet, you may not know but Hubby himself comes from an interracial family through marriage, and knows all too well how prejudiced "nice" people can be.

"If I were on The Voice I would totally pick Christina Aguilera to be my coach!" exclaims Hubby. "That would be awesome!"

"Yeah you would, she's hot," I say. "And she's the only woman."

"Oh yeah," agrees Hubby.

The way the show works is the four coaches pick team members, based solely on their singing ability. In other words, coaches don't get to see the singer first, so singers aren't picked based on their good looks, but rather actual talent. That's a new one, Internet.

But if more than one coach wants a singer to be on their team, then the singer gets to pick the coach, turning the tables on the so-called super stars. I like that. Adam Levine is so cute when he begs.

"I have to admit so far this show is pretty good. But if I watch The Voice, YOU have to watch it with me," I say to Hubby.

"Well, only if it doesn't get dull," says Hubby.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh, I knew!" I shout.

Silk Underwear

"Hey cool skirt!" I say. "Can I take a picture?"

"No way!" says Gio. "I don't want anyone to see me wearing it, they'll think I'm a girl."

"Guys wear skirts," I say. "They're called kilts. Don't worry they're totally manly."

"But they'll still think it's a skirt," says Gio. "Just say they're underwear."

"You'd rather be seen in your underwear than a skirt?" I ask surprised.

"Yeah, skirts are worser," explains Gio.

Bad Case Of Loving You - Robert Palmer

"Look Boss, ze bug, ze bug!" says Hubby's Intestinal Lining.



Flu bug that is.

Hubby arrived home from the grocery store with a bottle of Pepto Bismo in hand saying, "I don't feel so good."

"Don't we already have Pepto Bismo?" I ask.

"I couldn't wait until I got home to take it," says Hubby, taking a swig.

He's been doing Pepto shots all night. It doesn't seem to be working either. I can tell every time he sprints to the toilet.

Poor guy even refused my homemade chicken broth. Wait, is it still homemade if I didn't cook the chicken? Probably at least 50% percent, right?

"Ewwwwwwwwwww," moans Hubby.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuugh," Hubby carries on.

It's going to be a looooooong one. It's nights like these I wish I had figured out that spare bedroom thingamabob I've been envisioning. I may have to settle for the couch.

Happy Easter!

"I am so glad Easter isn't like Thanksgiving," says The Easter Bunny.  "Poor, poor Turkey."

You Look So Fine Garbage starring Kelly Slater

"Don't play that creepy video again," protests Vinny.

"What do you mean?" I ask. "That's Kelly Slater with hair!"

"It's the creepiest video I've ever seen," says Vinny. "She looks naked."

Uh I'm sure a lot of people won't agree. After all it's Kelly Slater with hair, and I'm pretty sure it's better than anything Slater did on Babewatch......

Snow Play Area, Yosemite National Park

Vinny doing his own stunts on the SUV back car mat. And Gio busting an air on the sleigh disc. No wonder I love these guys so much. They are full of FUN!

Note: I hope I remember this next time they squabble, which was five minutes ago.

Yosemite Snow Park

I was home less than 12 hours when we left for Yosemite. I'm exhausted. Sigh. What on Earth was I thinking?

Pershing Square, Jewelry District, Los Angeles

An ironic symbol considering the lack of unlocked public bathrooms, and the large number of homeless in Pershing Square.

I'm hanging out in Pershing Square, waiting for the BFF to finish up her bidness meeting.

There's an interesting combination of business people, trannies, fashion slaves, farmers' market enthusiasts, homeless people, gangbangers, boot whores and shoppers in the Square.

Apparently, it takes a city of angels for all these peeps to get along. Now if my sweet angel would hurry up with her meeting we could continue home......

It was only supposed to take an hour, but it's already been an hour and thirty minutes.

Judging by her last expletive text, "f+*!" I can tell things aren't going well, she never texts the Ef Bomb....

The BFF worked HARD all day yesterday, save for our dawn patrol Trestles surf sesh, working until ten o'clock last night. But waiting isn't so bad when I'm making mad passionate love with Trestles, versus being asked for money by indigents every five minutes.

I'm no city girl, Calgon take me home, or at least to the beach, where the scenery is much more tanned.

Trestles, San Clemente

"Going surfing now love, leaving phone in room, gonna be gone til my arms fall off," I text Hubby at 6 a.m. today.

I paddled out a bit before 7 a.m.  I surfed until 11 a.m.  Somehow after surfing four hours, my arms did not fall off.  Fortunately I packed water and some decent snacks to refuel for another session.

After napping on the beach for two and a half hours, I decide,  "I must go surfing! Again!"

"I'm only going to surf an hour," I tell myself.

After one hour I say to myself,  "I'm feeling pretty good!  I have another hour in me for sure."

"How is six hours of surfing not enough? " I wonder to myself.

But the only answer I can come up with is, "surfing is my crack."

Though,I do feel obligated to make this short trip worth the loooooong drive.

Finally, after the third hour of my second session I tell myself, "I'm beat, catch a wave in already, you have to save some energy for the 25 minute walk back to the hotel."

Secretly, I was hoping to surf Trestles for 8 hours today, but 7 hours will have to do, until next time anyways.......

Road Trip

"I'm going to L.A., Trestles is going to be really good tomorrow and Wednesday," says my BFF.

"Where are you going to stay?" I ask.

"San Clemente," says my BFF.

"Alone?" I ask. "I want to go!"

"Maybe we should go tonight!" says my BFF. "I can be ready by six."

"Me too! I say. "Let me check with Stefan."

"Honey, um, can I go to Trestles tonight?" I ask.

"Okay," says Hubby.

"I can go!" I text my BFF.

And now we are in the car, just outside of L.A., singing, "Oooooh it's gonna be sooooooooooo goooooooood tomorrow."

Kryptonite Kitten

Looks like Superman, is down for the count.

For the record, I did not Photoshop or PicSay Athena kitty's eyes. She must be an alien, who is mistakenly under the impression that Hubby is HuMan. He is not. He is actually an alien, from the planet Krypton, which totally explains his weakness when exposed to Kryptonite Kitty.

And now onto my next thought.....

Hmmmmm, this post reminds me of that REM song, "I Am Superman."

Enjoy.

Carmel Valley, California

We went to our friends' Housewarming party today, way, way out in Carmel Valley.

"Is this the wilderness?" asks Gio.

"Pretty much, " says Hubby.

"This is no place to live," says Gio.

"What do you mean, it's a great place to live!" says Hubby.

"Who wants to get killed by a bear," explains Gio.

While Gio may be afraid of being eaten by a bear, he has no fear of snakes, "Can I see the cobra again?"

"It's not a Cobra," says my BFF. "It's a King snake."

But after awhile my BFF, who's an AWESOME Veterinarian, gave up correcting him, "Sure, let's get the Cobra."

Gio has a way of wearing people down.

"Time to go," says Hubby.

"I don't want to go," says Vinny. "There's snakes, lizards, a swing, and darts!"

Though I kept my distance from any and all reptiles, it was a really fun day. Our friends have an awesome new house. The snakes seem to like it, too. And don't get me started on the Monitor Lizard, Floyd, a rescue, he was like a scaly, 10 pound, cuddly cat.

By the way, most of my BFF's reptiles are rescues. I am blessed with awesome friends.

I Killed The Weed Whacker Accidentally On Purpose

Today, I went outside to find my rose bush had been weed whacked by someone, and by someone I mean Hubby.

Dun, dun, dunn!

I was kind of ticked, and began plotting out text messages to him.

"How could you whack my rose bush, like that?"

No, too accusatory.

Hmmm.

"I can't believe you whacked MY rose bush! You're supposed to whack the weeds, not the roses."

Too lecturey.

Hmmmmm.

"Honey, I accidentally ran over the weed whacker. Five times.

Yeah that's good!

I sent the message, and not even a minute passed before Hubby rang my phone.

"Is the car okay?" asks Hubby.

"The weed whacker is way smaller than the car," I say.

"Is the weed whacker ruined?" asks Hubby.

"Like I said the weed whacker is way smaller than the car," I say. "It really didn't stand a chance, did it?"

"I don't understand?" asks Hubby. "How did you accidentally run over it FIVE times? Did you REALLY run it over?"

"I guess you'll find out when you get home," I say.

"Uh, okay......... " says Hubby, thinking, "gosh I knew she was a little crazy, but this is REALLY crazy?"

Now that Hubby is thoroughly confused, I must admit I feel much better, and a bit diabolical.

Not For All The Sanity In The World

"I wouldn't trade you guys for anything," I say.  "Not even if I could get my sanity back," I say.

"Really?" asks Vinny surprised.

"Honest," I say.

"So, who's Sanity?" asks Gio.

Richard Simmons Take 2

"Nice wetsuit Gio," I say.

"It's not a wetsuit," explains Gio.  "It's a workout suit."

Have You Seen Her?

In all this non-stop lice out cleaning, I seem to have misplaced my mojo. I know I had mojo, but I haven't seen her, since, uh, let me see, December.

Oh beaver dam, it's been a long time.

Have you seen her? Tell me have you seen her?

Monday, Monday

Is it summer vacation yet?

Lies Lies Lies Thompson Twins

I cannot get this song off my head. All day long I've been singing, "Lice, Lice, Lice yeah, they're gonna get you."

I'm pretty sure when I saw the Thompson Twins in concert in the 80s, I believe at the Oakland Coliseum, this song had a totally different meaning and was the soundtrack for some lying teenage guy......

Perspective truly is everything. Scratch, scratch.

Lice, Lice Baby

Just one of the many songs playing in my head today.

"Lice, Lice Baby."

Lice Vision Goggles

Do these Lice Vision Goggles
make my forehead look big?


In today's world of pesticide resistant lice, soldiers in the war on Nit Time Hair Invasions don't need Night Vision Goggles. What they need is Lice Vision Goggles.

Don't go blind, or cross eyed, in the battle against spineless blood suckers, who cling to innocent strands of hair, order your Lice Vision Goggles today!


*Lice sold separately.

**Absolutely no returns.

Kittens Holding Hands

Aw they are such sweet kitties when they are sleeping.

Getting Rid of Lice

I spent today vacuuming the house, laundering the laundry, washing wetsuits in scalding hot soapy water, vacuuming the car, changing beds, and nitpicking. Today, Gio is winning 6 to 3.

"You should just call an exterminator," says my BFF.

A full time maid would do it, I believe, and he'd be a lot less toxic than the exterminator.

Oh em gee. I can see, this lice battle is more like running a marathon than a sprint. On a bright note, I did take the boys to the wharf to surf. I even paddled out for a few tiny waves myself. Something is better than nothing.

I would have stayed out longer, but my 5-year-old parent called me in screaming, "You said you were only going to get one more wave, and you caught four!"

"I know, but could I just catch one more?" I beg.

"No!" shouts Gio. "Because then that would be FIVE more!"

Head Lice

Oh em gee, Internet! This parenting thing is like a roller coaster ride that I can't get off. I'm either flying high or laying in the gutter getting kicked in the hemorrhoid. The hemorrhoid, I received in childbirth I might add. (Not that you have to A.W.)

"Bleh, bleh, bleh."

Yesterday, was a supreme high watching Vinny paddle into and surf waves all on his own. But last night was a supreme low.

I am laying next to Gio, when, suddenly I see him violently scratch his head.

"Ding, ding, ding!" ring my maternal instincts at the abnormal scratching.

"Oh no, he has lice!" I shout.

"Why do you see something?" asks Hubby.

"No, I just know," I say.

It was not a premonition or any sort of psychic knowing. It was simply elementary my Dear Internet. Yes, common sense based on the millions of head lice alerts we have received from Gio's kindergarten class this year. It wasn't a matter of if, but rather when.

"Da, da, da!"

Needless to say, I've been doing tons of laundry and picking nits, yes that's where nitpicking originates, out of Gio's hair ALL DAY LONG. And then some.

The nits were in endless supply. They were going the distance. they were going for speed. I was all alone. In my time of need.

Huh? Sorry, I wrote out in song.

And we now return to our regular programming.

"Honey, we should just give them buzz cuts," I say admitting Nit Defeat.

"Yeah, let's do it!" says Hubby.

Sadly, my Dear Sweet Mother gave them cute haircuts last night thinking their hair would be short enough.

"Their hair is still too long," I text my Mom.

"I don't have my clippers," texts my Mom.

"I have clippers," I text.

"I don't like yours," texts my Mom.

"For the love of lice free hair make it shorter, please!" I text.

Silence

Come to find out, my Mom doesn't like burr, that's what she calls them, cuts. And if my Mom doesn't like something she doesn't do it. Period. And now, Internet, you know where I get it from.

Anyways, with no hope of my Mom helping, Hubby was on Crew Cut Detail armed with CVC Pharmacy Special Clippers, which of course, "are no good."

"Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz."

Apparently the thought of Hubby buzzing the boys hair was worse to my Mom, than her having to shave the boys bald herself.

Being quite resourceful, and knowing how to get stuff done she doesn't want to do herself, my Mom calls in for Special Ops Lice Out. And when she calls for backup, she don't mess around y'all.

Fortunately, my Mom's BFF is a barber, Lily The Lovely, who is a beautiful angel. Lily came to the house and buzzed all three boys. Hubby thankfully is not infested with bugs, trust me I went ape all over that shat, but thought he'd sport a buzz cut for the boys' sake.

I will post a picture of Hubby's cute new do tomorrow. In the meantime, I will be doing laundry. Loads and loads of laundry. And praying for a lice free environment.

Surfing Fisherman's Wharf Monterey

Hey Internet, this footage is from today of Vinny paddling into a wave all on his own. I. Am. So. Proud.

CSUMB Disc Golf Course

I actually surfed a real surf spot today, while the boys played on the beach. I was out for about an hour, but I swear it seemed like five minutes. Time flies when I'm in the moment.

Then I took the boys to the wharf, where I paddled out a couple more times for a handful of waves.

"That was fun!" says Vinny, on the way home.

Next, the boys and I went hunting for dinner and snacks for this week's lunches at the grocery store.

Once at home I cleaned out my car. I can always tell when it's time to clean my car because I can't find anything.

"I know there's a bar of surf wax in here somewhere?" I say.

After the car is semi organized and less sandy, I start in on my daily chores including, laundry, dishes, laundry, laundry, etc, laundry.

"I'm going to play disc golf," says Hubby. "Who wants to join me?"

"I do!" sing the boys.

Not wanting to be left out I chime in with, "Me too!" though I could have stayed home and carried on with my endless list of chores. Which probably explains why my list is endless.

Tomorrow's Monday and I'm exhausted. Playing is hard work.

Yellow Aura

We made it to the T-Ball field right on time!

It's 7 a.m. and I'm about to sneak out of the house for a quick surf, when I hear a voice behind me.

"Mom, can we go surf the wharf?" asks Vinny.

"Sure, but we don't have a lot of time," I say. "Gio has a T-Ball game at 11," I say.

The wharf isn't really a legitimate surf spot. It's not even a beginner's spot. It's where newbies go to learn to surf.

But it's the perfect kids' surf spot. The waves are small. And by small, I mean tiny. Minuscule even.

What I won't do for my kids. A lot actually, but groveling in meager surf conditions isn't one of them.

The small, pitiful waves aren't so bad on the right board, a 6'10" FunBoard, a wide surfboard with a rounded full nose. I actually had "fUn."

While the waves at the Wharf are slow, the commentary from the people there, tends to be off the charts. Commentary from the regular Wharf surfers, of, "it gets big here once a week."

The Wharf hardly ever gets head high more than once a year, if that. And head high is not big, by most surfers' standards.

To the Meth Head, hanging over the side of the Wharf, who likes to pull (figuratively speaking) surfers' leashes saying, "Woah! Look out for that shark!"

To the Used-To-Be-A-Surfer saying, "there's not much out there, today."

"Well, it's perfect for a 9-year-old," I say, trying not to sound annoyed at the thought I might be missing "good" waves somewhere else.

Vinny popped into the Ocean and was riding waves before I knew it.

"Wow!" says Used-To-Be-A-Surfer. "He's actually surfing!"

"Yeah, that's why I'm here," I say.

But today, my favorite commentary came from a fisherman. In fact, on top of watching Vinny surf, what he said, made my day.

"The waves are never this good here," says FisherMan.

"Oh yeah," I say, hoping I don't sound like a smart alleck because I definitely don't think it's good.

"Well, it sure is fun watching you ride them," says FisherMan.

FisherMan deflated my surf snobbery bubble in a single sentence. It felt good knowing my joy*** was rubbing off on someone else.

Yes, even small waves can be powerful.

***the life purpose of people with yellow auras is to spread joy.

Jedi Mind Prowess