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Screw You, Mother Nature!

14 May


I’m not impressed.

As part of my evening routine, after ‘dream feeding’ the baby, I generally wash all baby bottle parts that I don’t trust in the dishwasher, then head for bed.

Tonight, I thought I’d flip the order, and do the dishes first.

We keep the bottle parts in soak water until we wash them, so imagine my surprise as I reach into the soak water to drain it and find THIS:

Goddamned Spider

WTF Mother Nature?!


At first, I thought, ‘Oh. I was hulling strawberries earlier. I guess one of them managed to fly into the other sink.’ But my, heh, “spidey senses” told me I was being naive, and that that wasn’t any hull, and I darn well knew it – it was a #%$@$@^ spider!!!

I HATE SPIDERS. (Hate is actually too gentle and inaccurate a word to describe how I feel at this point.)

I don’t think I can quite explain the process of shock my body goes through upon seeing one.  The irrational fear.  Especially when finding one in this manner.  The gooseflesh.  The throat swelling up in panic.  The deer-in-headlights moment, where I have no clue what to do – I just need to get rid of the damned thing.

And I can’t wake up the hubby.  He’d probably be all awesome about it, and come help me, with a begrudging ‘Dear’.  But he has to work at 6:30 in the morning, and he’d be tired. And I’d never hear the end of it.

So. Once all of the panic thoughts start calming down in my head, I’m faced with a ‘what do I do moment’.

First: Verify the @#$@# is dead.  (spray with gentle flow of water, so it stays in lid, but would react if alive.)


Second: Upon verification of supposed death, dispose of body. (But how?)

If I throw it in the garbage, it could still be alive and come back to terrorize me.  I don’t want to have to walk with it to the second floor bathroom to flush it.  It could leap out of the water and land on me.  I could trip and fall (I am a first class klutz!), and it could scurry away.  I’m not frigging throwing it outside (see potential outcome of option number one: trash).

Then I look at the GARBURATOR.  Oh yes.  The garburator.

Ok. Plan of Attack eked out.

Third: Put Plan of Attack in motion: get it into the garburator without getting it on me.  (See ‘klutz’ above.)

Most people without severe arachnophobia, if finding a sudden need to shred the body of a dead spider, would just chuck it in the sink.

However, the thought of touching the bottle lid containing the little @#@#$@#% is making me panic. But if I don’t, it’s still there. And I have to clean the bottle parts. And OH CRAP! I have to feed the baby. Yep. Still have that little dream feed waiting…

Ok. So,

Fourth: Remove garburator cover, turn on VERY HOT WATER, very, very gingerly pick up contaminated bottle lid, dump it veryquicklyintogarburatorhole and turn it on.

And let it run for a very long time, spraying all visible surfaces surrounding garburator opening, just in case.

Then the random thought occurred to me, what if it’s really alive and has found some surface to cling on to on the INSIDE so it can crawl back out later and avenge its almost death?


And in that moment, I also questioned my sanity (laugh it up) in not having re-covered the garburator hole (which I originally left open, so the spider couldn’t attach itself to the mesh bottom as an escape mechanism).

Next step(s)?

First: use some of the soak water, scooped out from the soak sink with a pot, to add extra flushing power to the tap to wash that little @$%@#$^@% down the drain to its certain shredding.


Second: Put the garburator cover back on. Continue garburating.

I now have to reach into the soak water to drain it. And I’m fearing (more panic) one of his little buddies is in there, and I missed him. Luckily, no.

And GENIUS: I realize the gush of soak water down the drain will prevent the @#$^#%^#$&#$& from coming back up the soak sink pipes when he realizes I have thwarted all of his other potential escape plans.

Once drained, the soak plug goes back in, and I need the tap, and so, alas, the garburating has to stop so I can fill the other sink with soapy water.

It’s suddenly very quiet in the kitchen. I can feel it crawling on me.

I start washing the bottle parts, looking each one over very carefully, with the rinse water running into the garburator (off, for the moment) – and once the soak/wash sink is drained, I run the tap, and garburator (once more) with the draining wash water, again to maximize the flow of water and unstick him from his chosen hiding place.

Then I run cold water, in case his hot tub fantasy was just proving to him it was worth hiding and sticking it out.

You think it’s over at this point, right?

I grab the baby’s bottle to head upstairs, and quickly let the dog into the yard on the way to do her business.

Some fly or something flew at my face. Ramped up the adrenaline. What if that was a spider swinging down from its web? Where did it go? Is it going to exact revenge for me shredding a dead buddy of his? Gooseflesh.

Dog comes back inside, and we head up the stairs to feed the baby. Once she’s done and tucked in, I find myself back at the dreaded sink counter where this particular attack on my sanity and slumber first commenced.

I disassemble the bottle, leaving only the nipple for soaking tomorrow. In the empty soak sink. WITH THE PLUG STILL FIRMLY IN PLACE. And I run the garburator once more for very good measure.

And now I’m writing this. Still with the gooseflesh (almost two hours later), and having trouble proofing the top of this entry, as the picture (with which I will wake hubby in the morning) is taunting me.

I feel obliged, at this point, to come back to the topic of my blog: #BabyBytes.

Here’s the thing. I don’t want my daughter growing up with this kind of crippling fear – of anything. Spiders, Snakes, Guinea Pigs. Whatever – it’s not at all a joy to be so panicked about something that you lose control of your faculties. (Imagine me finding spiders crawling on my windshield as a young (teenaged) driver. For those of you from Toronto: on the 401. At the 400 interchange. Yeah. I really don’t want that for her.)

When she’s around – and actually, not just her, other peoples’ children, too, because I don’t want to influence them, either – I try my darnedest to be calm and level headed, so that she sees things with an open mind and wonder. (Not fearing what happens if a wolf spider crawls into her little mouth while she sleeps – seriously, that has kept me up nights.)

Tonight, had she been at the counter, I don’t think I would have achieved it. #MummyFail

So, now that I’ve blogged about my fear, and calmed down a little, I’m going to direct you to this fabulously (and far better) written story with regard to the Fear of Spiders.

And I’m going to go play with the garburator one last time.

Oh yeah, and Screw You, Mother Nature!



Elation… deflation…

12 May


I was so excited yesterday!

Baby had her six month checkup – she’s right on track on all of her growth charts, barely flinched at the needle. Made strange. All great things for a little baby!

For her evening meal, I was feeding her yet another installment of her sweet potatoes.

Over the previous two days, I could have sworn she was biting down on the spoon with more than just gums.  (For people who’ve fed kids before, you know that teeth under a spoon just feel differently.)

But, each time I tried to rub her gums, she’d fight her face away from my hand, push my fingers away with her tongue, and if I managed to get even a small feel, there definitely didn’t seem to be any teeth there. Weird.

Anyway, last night I felt it again with the spoon, and managed to get a good feel of her lower gums with my finger and ‘lo – bottom left front toothy is poking it’s wee head out! (Picture us trying to get a picture of it later. HA!)

I was so excited! I let the family know – I cheered, I had the baby and my husband giggling.

Then I got the text back from my Mum.

“No more gummy smiles.”

And I’m not going to lie, my heart broke just a little.

Those gummy smiles got me through the really long runs while I was training for this years half marathon.  They got me to the finish line during both of my post-pregnancy goal races (10K and 21.1K respectively).

They melt my heart when I find that she’s backed herself around the living room again in her attempt to crawl, and has inadvertently gotten herself stuck under another piece of furniture.

She looks up at me with those gorgeous eyes, her face all serious, and cracks a gummy smile, and I fall in love with her again. Or more. Or both.

And now they’re going away, never to return.

Today, I tried to elicit the particular furniture-stuck-baby gummy smile from her for the camera. I know that I can see it in my head. It’s there, but it’s not the same. I kind of caught one… but every time she really let one loose, I just missed it, or she’d see the camera and ‘pose’ (yes, she poses already).

A voice in my head says that maybe I should just treasure the memory, and know that I experienced it in person, not through the lens of a camera.  The other half of me needs to be able to see those smiles forever.

I text my Mum back that I’m really sad now.

She says not to be, that toothy smiles are just as great as the gummy ones.

I know she’s right – they’re just as great, and I’ll love them, too. But they aren’t the same.  I’ve gone from an awesome milestone high, to an once-again realization that there’s no turning back low.

And a realization that I don’t want to miss a single thing.

And my heart’s still broken. A bit.

Mummy Fail!

10 May


In what will probably be the first post of way too many with this title, I share with you a quick #MummyFail moment…

I decided that I could make my own baby food.  Honestly?  It’s not that hard, nor is it overly time consuming.  AND it comes with the added benefit of knowing exactly what’s going into my daughters’ mouth…

I think we’re on veggie six or seven in the ‘red/orange/yellow’ category… Sweet Potatoes!

So!  The hubby picked up an awesome sweet potato on his way home from work tonight.  I peeled and cut up that sucker to steam.  THIS IS VEGGIE SIX OR SEVEN!!  Meaning I have done this FIVE OR SIX other times thus far.  And in only three weeks.  IT’S NOT ROCKET SCIENCE.

But, I may have irreparably damaged our stove.  And melted the bottom out of one of hubby’s pots.  (I’ve hidden it in the sink for the time being.  SHHHH.  Not the greatest hiding place – but it’s got a lid on it.  And… it’s full of (now) brown water… CRAP!!!)

#MummyFail #1*

P.S. The sweet potatoes turned out beautifully, regardless.  The baby gagged on them, which is veggie #2 of gagging (carrots were the only other…).

*#1 as recorded and listed here.  There have been many others.  I may or may not share them as time goes on.