Owl On Guard?

Lately, we have been having some bird issues in the backyard, which I guess aren't as bad as the possible issues we could be having, but annoying nonetheless. We have a ceiling fan in the gazebo that the robins made a nest in, which we can't touch since they already managed to lay their eggs and now they have moved on to the satellite dish. I don't mind the nest in the fan so much but the satellite dish?...REALLY!!?? Not only am I afraid they will somehow ruin it, but it is more visible than the ceiling fan and it is right above our patio furniture which is now being sprinkled with bird poop! Because this new location they have chosen is more visible, we can see their progress before it is too late, unlike the ceiling fan in the gazebo. Anytime I see a few twigs up there, we get the ladder out and remove them. Yet, the birds (who are watching us with laser eyes from the tree next door) just laugh and return with their twigs the next day. It was becoming a vicious cycle, especially when we went away for the weekend and came back to a half-built nest. Next, we decided to wrap the base of the dish in mesh, so they couldn't put anything in it. What did they do? They found a way to put the twigs on top of the mesh, brushing off our amateur efforts to get rid of them. I swear they were mocking us with their loud chirps in the morning asking, 'what have you got for us today Gudinos?' I read that they fear owls, which is why you always see those hideous plastic statues on the roofs of businesses, which gave me an idea. I asked Meyer if I could borrow her stuffed owl for a few days to help Mommy with the birds and after a bit of hesitation, she agreed. I had Anthony put the stuffed owl up on the satellite dish to ward off those little pests. Meyer just watched and commented, 'my owl is going to scare the birds, so they won't build a nest?' Let's just hope young one, let’s just hope....The next day we went out to look and those birds literally just went right around the owl (I swear they gave him a high five when they passed him) and placed a few twigs on the base again, ignoring his cute (yet intimidating?) face. I’m sure that if they were Cinderella's birds, they would have dressed the owl up in a cute pink dress and Incorporated him into their nest somehow while chirping/mocking us happily. Jerks! Then, this morning there were two ducks hanging out in the hot tub like the robins called them over and welcomed them to the bird party! Oh, hell no!!! I ran out there in my pajamas chasing them away and declared war. Bird war. 

Just Another Day At The Pool

Meyer takes swim lessons every week, which she normally loves, but this week we got in the pool and I could tell that she wasn’t having it. I couldn’t figure out what her deal was but she was just not as into it as she normally was. Even though she is 99% potty trained, she still wears a swim diaper under her bathing suit in the pool so I was pretty confident that it wasn’t an issue with her having to pee that was holding her back. I started to wonder if the chlorine was hurting her eyes or if her bathing suit was uncomfortable? Then she started to tell me that she did have to go pee. I told her that it was fine and she was wearing a swim diaper and that she could go pee in it if she wanted to. She was adamant that she wanted to get out of the pool to go on the potty and started to cry telling me over and over that she had to go pee. Then it happened. The inevitable poop face. ‘OH NO!’ Then I remembered that she often says she has to go pee even though she actually means poop (we are working on that). ‘Shit!!!’ Literally. I grabbed her and ran out of the pool to the bathroom (both of us barefoot mind you) and even though the bathroom floors at the pool have that shower matting, I still felt like Britney Spears at the gas station restroom. But at this point, I didn’t really care. And of course this week was Safety Week, so the instructors encouraged the kids to wear their street clothes over their bathing suits in the pool so they would know what it felt like if they fell in the pool fully clothed. Which actually worked in my benefit since she had that extra layer to keep the poop in when she let it go in the pool. But as I was in the stall trying to get her undressed so she could finish on the potty, it was working very much against me. You try taking a pair of wet pants, then a wet bathing suit and then a swim diaper off a squirmy toddler who is trying not to finish pooping in her pants. Nightmare! When I finally got her undressed, it was another struggle trying to empty out her swim diaper in the potty (and not on me or on the floor) but still trying to get her on the potty at the same time. I’m pretty sure I had poop somewhere on me (what mom hasn’t had poop on them?) by the time I got her on the potty just in time for her to finish. Thank God no one else was in the bathroom at that time! Once she was done, she proudly announced as sweet as can be in her little high pitched voice that she was 'all done' and gave me a proud smile. Oh sure kid, you are happy now but I am standing here barefoot in the bathroom stall with poop somewhere on my hand and/or arm and wet toilet paper stuck to my leg. And now for the cleanup. Again, thank goodness no one else was in that bathroom as I cleaned myself off and put my half naked toddler (still as happy as can be) on the counter while I rinsed out her swim diaper and got her bathing suit back on. We rushed back out to the pool (I felt like I was gone so long that the class was probably over, everyone had left and the employees had locked up for the night) and slid back in the pool inconspicuously. Nothing to see here, folks!

What's That Smell?

On Monday morning, I got into my car to go to work after it had been in the garage all weekend and I was almost knocked out by a pungent odor that oozed out like the green funk that followed Beetlejuice around. Immediately, I blamed my husband and/or daughter because I kept my car so tidy and never left anything inside overnight, let alone over the weekend. Anthony did take my car last weekend, maybe he left food in the backseat or something? (He once left an In-N-Out bag under my seat, which I found while on my way to Stagecoach). I checked all around…nothing! Maybe Meyer dropped something in the car seat that stinks? She can be messy, especially if you give her a baggie of popcorn on the ride home from Oceanside and it ends up all over the floor instead of in her mouth. I checked the car seat…nothing. Very strange. I rolled down both windows and headed to work figuring that I would buy an air freshener at CVS that afternoon and it would solve my problem…Well, an incredibly strong Yankee Candle air freshener later and my car still smells like someone left a dirty diaper in a wet cooler all day in the hot sun. What the hell was that? I checked the trunk to make sure that my pregnancy brain didn’t leave a bag of groceries in there. Negative. Then, I got my flashlight out and checked to make sure I didn’t drop any food down the side of my seat while I was driving. I admit, my pregnancy appetite is in full effect and I am constantly snacking, especially during my hour long commute home. Maybe I dropped an orange slice down there? Didn’t I eat some asparagus on the ride home the other day? Weird, I know…damn pregnancy! But from what I could see, there was nothing in the crack. Did I have a dead animal under my hood? Nope. What the hell was it and why was it not going away? Thanks to my new air freshener, my car now smells like a heavily-cologned Italian man who has been playing in a dumpster for hours. There was nothing I could do for the time being, so every night, I left my windows down to air it out, which is helping a little but I still couldn’t find the cause of the stench! I even checked under my spare tire to make sure the AAA guy didn’t leave his bologna sandwich under there when he changed my tire a few weeks ago...Well, it has been a week and the lingering odor has finally gone away. (Thankfully because I had to valet park my car at Pizzeria Mozza the other night). So, that orange slice/asparagus/dead animal/bologna sandwich must have finally disintegrated...Eww!

Another Blonde Moment

I have been looking for a hall tree/bench for our entryway for what seems like forever now and finally, I found the perfect one! I bought an inexpensive piece on Wayfair that seemed to have great reviews and would look perfect in our entryway. I am always very good at building furniture like this, so when it arrived, I tore open the box and got to work. I just put together two night stands earlier this week and my husband was upstairs assembling a TV stand, so I had this one in the bag. I laid out all of the parts in order, opened the box of screws (careful not to mix them up) and began to read the manual. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. It was coming together nicely and I was almost finished when I called Anthony to help me lift up the bench part and screw it onto the top of the piece. That is when I saw it. When I flipped up the front of the bench (it had been laying face down while I screwed in the 4 screws that held it together), I realized that I had used the wrong screws. I was screwing the longer screws in and they broke through the front of the bench! I should have been using the screws that were half the size of the ones I used. I looked down and just slapped my hand against my forehead. Doh! I’m lucky I didn’t screw the piece into my hardwood floor! As Anthony came down the stairs he started laughing and asked me how I didn’t hear the screws ripping through the front of the bench. “I don’t know, I just didn’t!” What the hell was I going to do now? I looked on the front of the manual and they gave a number to call for replacement parts. But I clearly did it myself and it didn’t come damaged. What if they ask me for pictures or to send the part back first? Shit! I was the worst liar ever! There was no way I was going to convince them that it just came like that! I thought that maybe I could sand and paint it over, or maybe just put 4 stickers over the problem spots? Shaking, I dialed the number and sat there sweating, waiting for someone to answer. Please don’t ask me what happened, please don’t ask me…..When she picked up the phone, she simply asked what piece was damaged, confirmed my address and told me the part was on its way. Gulp. That was it? Ahhhhh deep breath out.

Tut Tut, It Looks Like Rain!

Earlier this week, I read that it was going to rain (which I was excited about) but so far, it was still dry outside. So at 5:30 AM this morning when I stepped out into the garage to get into my car for work, I was delighted when I heard what sounded like buckets of water coming down. “Nice, it’s finally raining out!” So, I went back inside the house, grabbed my rain jacket, rain boots and umbrella and got myself prepared for the storm outside. When I got back into the garage and pushed the garage door opener, something just wasn’t adding up as the door began to rise. The driveway wasn’t wet at all. (Door continues to open). I don’t see any raindrops coming down. (Door continues to open). Why do I still hear water? (Door now fully open exposing a beautiful morning and me standing head to toe in rain gear). I look over to the left and see that one of our sprinkler heads had busted and we literally have Old Faithful in our front yard. Dammit! 

What Am I?

I am sure everyone has been in this situation before…you are at a restaurant or bar and you have to use the bathroom. You get to the bathroom doors and have no clue which one to walk in! Am I a ‘Skunk’ or a ‘Sloth?’ A ‘Clover’ or a ‘Flower?’ A ‘Gypsy’ or a ‘Pirate?’ Can’t these people just say ‘Men’ or ‘Women’ already!? By the time you figure it out, your bladder is about ready to explode and you are ready to bust through the door with the ‘Rooster’ on it, forgetting that you are most likely a ‘Cat.’ And if you have had a few drinks? Forget about it- the signs may have well be in French! This exact situation has happened to me a few times (am I just not as witty and clever as I think I am?) but this time it was a whole different story…

We were at the Temecula Creek Inn for our friend’s 40^th birthday party. We had been wine tasting all day and when we got back to the hotel, we went to the bar to continue the festivities. I had a few martinis and then had to go to the bathroom. I asked Anthony where the bathroom was and he pointed behind the bar and told me the doors were to the left. I got up, walked exactly where he told me and came upon 2 doors next to each other. One said ‘Sage 1’ and one said ‘Sage 2.’ SHIT. Okay, this one was like a riddle- how the heck was I supposed to know what kind of Sage I am? Are they talking about the herb? Maybe these are gender neutral bathrooms and if you have to go number one you go to the ‘Sage 1’ door? Ugh. No, that wouldn’t be possible…..right? Not only did I have to pee badly, I was wearing a romper so the process of taking it off was going to take a while so there was no time to waste! Just as I was racking my brain for anagrams for the letters SAGE, I saw a few girls walk by me and head around the corner. I followed them and saw two clearly marked doors: 'Gentleman’ & ‘Ladies.’ Duh! I still have no clue what those 'Sage' doors lead to. Probably the electrical room or something….

Santa Claus is Coming to Town (in an Uber)

Last December, we decided to take Meyer to Santa’s Village in Lake Arrowhead so she could get a second shot with the big guy. The first time she met him with Grandma, she was NOT a fan! Although our experience at Santa's Village was not the best (it had just re-opened but nothing was fully operating ‘yet’) and we had to buy cables to put on the Tahoe to get there (I am from Maine and have NEVER had to use these), Meyer actually smiled for her picture with Santa this time! The best part? We got to meet him twice! First, when he was in his work attire (aka Jolly Old St. Nick) sitting in the sleigh, and again as we were leaving the park, as casual Santa. 

Before we got on the road, we had pulled over to the side of the parking lot to adjust the cables on the Tahoe. A baby blue minivan pulled up next to us and out stepped Mr. Claus himself, except this time he was in his regular clothes (but clearly recognizable). He asked if we needed any help and I thought, ‘what is this, Miracle on 34^th Street?’ We told him thanks but we were just adjusting the cables on the tires, yet he stayed and decided to make small talk. He asked if we remembered him (like he was Clark Kent and just removed his glasses)…umm duh, we just sat on your lap! I looked over at his van and noticed that he had the familiar Uber sticker on his dashboard and thought, holy crap! Santa is an Uber driver too? What else does this guy do? Can you imagine if you called an Uber and on the app and it said 'Nick' will be arriving in 2 minutes in a red Toyota sleigh? He agreed with us that it sucked about having to put cables on the tires to make it up to Santa’s Village and confessed that he was almost late to work because he didn’t have any and had to go out of his way to buy some. To that I replied, “why didn’t you take the sleigh?”

Thanks. I’ll be here all night. Ho ho ho.