Daily Prompt 7/2/2016 | Kill It With Fire

Don’t forget to wear sunscreen when you head to the beach!

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[In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt 7/2/2016 | Burn]

Fear is a funny thing. Well, maybe not funny, since some fears can utterly cripple the individual, but funny as in… fear makes people do funny things sometimes. There are different kinds of fears, and different levels of fear. For example, my fiance, a big guy, with a history of football and brawling, and a slightly intimidating demeanor and physique, is afraid of just about every creepy crawly you can imagine, no matter how big or small. Ants, beetles, bees, moths, butterflies, mosquitoes, and don’t even get me started on spiders… they turn him into, well, for lack of a better analogy, a little girl. A squealing, quivering, little girl. I wish I were joking, but it is kind of hilarious. There have been countless occasions where I have had to come to his rescue with a shoe, or a rolled up magazine, and squish a tiny critter. I wouldn’t make fun of him if his fears were more severe, but they aren’t. He has no traumatic, triggering memories to fuel his fears… he just gets creeped out, and calls in the cavalry, me. Continue reading “Daily Prompt 7/2/2016 | Kill It With Fire”

Dream Journal 3/31/16

[Since I’ve been so busy being glued to the couch with my sick, clingy toddler lately, I haven’t had any time to type out the dreams from my dream journal. I finally have a few minutes today, so here is dream 3 of 3.]

Kyle, Liam, and I were driving to Canopy Lake Park in Maine, and we were lost. I was telling Kyle to ask for directions, because the GPS on his phone was acting up, but we ended up finding our exit and following a bunch of signs to get to the park. The parking lot was completely empty, and I asked Kyle if they were even open, but he assured me that they were.

There was no one stationed at the gate, so we just walked right in, and headed for the first ride we saw, which was a teacup ride. There were no people in the park, but we didn’t seem to notice or care. Kyle kept complaining about how sunny it was. The gate to the teacup ride was locked, and Liam started to cry. We decided that we would spend some time at the large wave pool instead, but when we got there, there was no water in the pool. We found a large hose, and put it in the pool, and filled it up ourselves, even though we couldn’t get the waves to work. The water was crystal clear, and it looked like a tropical beach, with the bottom of the pool covered in white sand.

A woman showed up at the pool and waved at us enthusiastically. She was the only other person in the park besides us. She took off all of her clothes and jumped into the pool completely naked. Just then, a group of 6 or 7 little kids, which I assumed were with her, came running out of the locker room, and jumped into the pool after her. There were now several beach balls being thrown around, and we kept getting splashed, so we got out of the pool. Kyle was angry, and was cussing up a storm, complaining about the woman. We did a lap around the park, but there were still only a few other people there, and none of them were employees.

After walking for a long time, we came across a large archway, with a “Zoo” sign, and Liam starting jumping up and down and cheering. We walked down the path to the zoo, which descended into a thick, green rain forest. There were brightly colored birds, terrifyingly large bugs, and pterodactyls everywhere. I had a large camera around my neck, and was taking pictures of everything that we passed.

There was another group up ahead of us with several children, and they were all screaming about something that was going to get them…

And then I woke up.

Take A Walk With Jan #3

I know it’s not really their fault. They are just flying around their home (which is the whole of the outdoors, by the way), minding their own business, when a giant walks into their living room and starts swatting at them. I’d bust out a baseball bat if someone did that!

I dislike bugs. I really do. Well, some bugs. There are some that I rather enjoy. I’m not afraid of these tiny critters, per se, but I hate when they fly into my face, or get stuck in my hair, or sting me, or fly around my son. They are assholes. I generally don’t bother or kill the bugs, unless they are really bothering me or the baby, or if Kyle demands it because he is terrified of most things with more than two or four legs.

I know it’s not really their fault. They are just flying around their home (which is the whole of the outdoors, by the way), minding their own business, when a giant walks into their living room and starts swatting at them. I’d bust out a baseball bat if someone did that! Hell, I’ve actually gone out of my way to rescue certain critters from imminent death (moths, caterpillars, large spiders, praying mantis mostly).
buggyyyy
This is Jim the Praying Mantis. I saved him from the middle of the street a few weeks ago, and put him on the tree outside of our apartment. Tell your friends, Jim! Tell them to leave me alooone! I leave them alone, and even save them, but do they show me the same kindness and courtesy? No. No, they certainly do not.

This whole week is supposed to be in the 70’s and sunny, so I decided that we would try to get in as many walks as we can before the cold weather comes. Seconds after we left our apartment, as I was strapping Liam into his stroller, a ladybug landed on his cheek. He reached his hand up to touch it, and it crawled onto his hand, then up his arm, before flying away. For a brief moment, I thought, “Aww, that was cute!” But, no, it wasn’t. Because out here in the cornfields, ladybugs are tiny, spotted demons. And I despise them.

The walk to the park wasn’t too bad. It was warm and breezy, and we avoided the sidewalks where the majority of the evil ladybugs seemed to be hovering about. The park, however, was a different story. I had stopped at Subway to grab a veggie sub, and planned to sit under one of the gazebos to eat once we got to the park.

Nope. NOPE.

I forgot that today was Sunday, and there were dozens of teenagers roaming the park, hogging all of the gazebos and picnic tables. I walked all the way to the other end of the park and sat under one of the empty gazebos, but Liam and I were relentlessly attacked by both spiders and ladybugs, and ended up sitting on a bench out in the open to eat. The bench was right next to one of the playgrounds, where there were three teen/pre-teen kids goofing around on the swings, including messing with the baby swing, so we couldn’t use it. Teenagers are such dickbags. Then, I overheard the following conversation:

Girl #1: I hate how young I look, it’s so stupid.
Boy: Why? That doesn’t make sense.
Girl #1: I look really young. I hate it.
Boy: You are young…
Girl #2: Madison, you are, like, 10. Stop.
Girl #1: But I look 10.
Boy: You ARE 10.
Girl #2: But you look, like, at least 15. So it’s okay!
Boy: Why don’t you want to look 10? You are 10.
Girl #1: I don’t expect you to get it. Just shut up.
Boy: Wow. Whatever.

The boy then grabbed his skateboard and went over to the playground, but stopped when he saw us, and walked over.

Boy: Hi. Cute baby, is he yours?
Me: Thanks. Yeah, he is.
Boy: Cool. How old are you?
Me: I’m 25.
Boy: Oh.
Me: …
Boy: …
Boy: Nevermind, I just thought you were young.
Me: … *awkward smile*

Then he waved to Liam and walked back over to the girls.

Wait. Wait a minute. What? Was he saying I looked young? But then called me old? I’m confused. Either way, I now feel old. Thanks, kid.

Then, it happened.

On the walk back, there was a bug hovering around my head. I knew it wasn’t a ladybug, but swatted it anyway. Then it flew out in front of me, and ducked beneath the hood of the stroller. I saw it. Black and yellow. In a moment of panic, I pulled the hood back, and saw a yellow jacket, floating right in front of Liam’s face. He saw it as well, and I was terrified that he would reach for it and get stung. My mama bear instincts set in, and I smacked the yellow jacked out of the air. He flew around me, and I hit him again. He got me back, though, stinging the top of my wrist. No allergies, so I’m fine, but it hurt. Bastard.

We then tried to rush home, but ended up getting stopped a few blocks away by a young couple, who wanted to ask me questions about our stroller, because they really liked it (we have a Graco Aire3 Click Connect Travel System, Gotham by the way, it is amazing). The walk back was much less eventful, thankfully. I had to give myself, Liam, and the stroller a look over once we got inside to make sure we didn’t bring home and stowaways.

I am ready for the cold weather. I thought I wanted it to stay away, but I now realize how foolish and naive I was.

BRING. ON. THE. SNOW.

Thanks for reading, friends.

Jan

Most Terrifying Experience of My Life. WTF!

I just had the most terrifying experience of my life. I went to lay down with the baby for about an hour before putting him in his crib for a nap. I walked back into the kitchen to the sound of loud buzzing. I looked up to see SWARMS of yellow jackets in my living room. All over my lights, the windows, curtains, walls, etc. They weren’t there an hour prior. I shut the baby’s door and ran to get my  upstairs neighbor, who helped me spray and kill HUNDREDS of them, until they were all dead.

Apparently, when we called to complain last week about the nest outside our house, the exterminator the landlord hired didn’t do anything, but said that he did. This gave the yellow jackets time to finish burrowing through the wall, and they flooded my apartment through a hole underneath my computer desk. Luckily, I wasn’t at my desk, or in the living room, at the time.

We blocked off the hole with some duct tape, but the nest is still there in the wall. My neighbor called the landlord again to tell them that the situation has gotten worse, and they were angry about the exterminator. Not nearly as angry as I am. I now have hundreds and hundreds of dead yellow jackets to clean up. I’m furious. I’m too terrified to do anything. And my house smells like chemicals.

What if we had been SLEEPING? I may never sleep again.