Shelba

Tukas Slang

Someone found my blog by googling "tukas slang." I hope I helped. If anyone has any unique "tukas slang," please feel free to share, as there seems to be need for butt slang.

I'm Posting just to Post.

It is about time for another post from me, so even though I have nothing creative to say, I figure I'll go ahead and tell you what is going on with me.

1. Our COMPLETED homestudy was sent off to the BCIS to be united with our I-600A. This is a huge relief. However, I'll feel more relieved when we get our fingerprint appointment.

2. I'm still in Mississippi.

3. I'm not going private, but I am considering making occasional posts private. I'm super paranoid now that this blog may have been discovered. I'd like to send a big shout out to my husband for this.

4. Jake, the dog, got in the trash and ate a piece of onion...how big a piece, I don't know. All I know is that onions are toxic to dogs. My mother called her vet who said they feed onions to their dogs all the time, for me not to worry about. I called my vet and she said to make Jake barf or else rush him to a vet. I called another vet and he said to keep an eye on Jake and that he will probably live. Needless to say, I am constantly poking Jake to make sure he is still alive. Also, his onion breath is disgusting and only serves to make me mad at him that he might be dying. And I'm mad at myself because I am such a freak about making sure my dogs are safe, yet here he is out in the back yard rummaging for onions.

5. I effed up the baby sweater I'm knitting, and I don't know if I'm clever enough to figure out how to fix it.

6. I helped my mother paint her living room last week. She has decided that she doesn't like the color, so we are repainting it today. Hopefully she will like this new color. She has already started questioning whether it is too dark. Please cross your fingers that she likes this color.

The End.

Thanks a lot, Ray.

I'm screwed. My husband may have mistakenly exposed my blog. Very few people in my "real" life know about this blog. But that may not be the case now.

As I write this, he is scouring my blog for anything that we wouldn't want people that "know" us to know about.

So, if you are the person that my husband ratted my blog out to, you should know that I do cuss. And I don't mean simple little swear words, like shit, damn, or piss. I use the "F" word. I think it is only fair that I should warn you about this. It is true that I've tried toning it down a wee bit since we started the adoption process, because I'm afraid someone with power will find my blog and determine me unfit to parent because of my "F" word usage.

Thanks a lot, Raymond. Thanks a fucking lot.

What About Bob?

My parent's cat, Bob. He is not crazy about my dogs.

Jake & Pepper

My Jake has a crush on Monique's Pepper. He thinks she is babe. And I have to agree with Monique, Pepper and Jake would make the most beautiful babies! How cute would those puppies be? Pretty darn cute.

My Boy

This is Jake. The sweetest dog I've ever known. I love him and he loves me. If he were a person, he would be the type to always let you know how much you mean to him. Everybody loves Jake. If you were to stay at my house, he would keep you company on the couch, as well as offer to sleep with you at night. He is a good host that way.

Out of my two dogs, he is the one that will be least happy about a baby coming into our lives. When I babysit my neighbor's six month old, Jake expresses his displeasure about the kid sitting in my lap. He has growled and cried at the sight of the baby hogging my attention. His reaction was a surprise, because I thought Lola would be the one who would behave this way, not Jake. But it turns out that Lola loves kids. She loves licking their toes and their sticky little hands. Jake gives the kid a quick, unsure sniff, then tries to force his way on my lap. Jealous. Jealous. Jealous.

I know Jake will adjust to a baby, so I'm not too worried about it. Once he realizes that little kids drop food on the floor, he'll be fine.

Lola

I love her.

Southern Belle

I'm in Mississippi visiting my parents. The dogs are with me. My parents have two cats, so it is interesting watching them figure out how to live in the same house. The cats want nothing to do with the dogs, and the dogs don't know what to make of the cats.

Promises

I wouldn't be surprised if Typepad terminated my rights to my blog. I really wouldn't. I am a bad blogger. I am a blogger that neglects her blog. Blog Protective Services should investigate me. Then place my blog in a foster home with a person who can give my blog an attentive home.

Yeah.

I have plenty to blog about, yet I can't get myself to post anything. Oh, I write. I have dozens of entries that never get published. I don't know what it is. I think I need to commit to posting, even if I hate what I've written. So, I'm vowing before all of you.....if anyone is still reading this thing, that I am going to force myself to post every day. I'm sure I've made this promise before, but this time I'm going to try to mean it.