One man's pest is another man's pet.

A few weeks ago, an exterminator came to our door in a deluded attempt to hawk his services.  As he pointed to the spider webs dotting our house's foundation, I gently broke the news to him.  I gestured toward the "errant" webs and replied,  "Those guys are just doing their jobs. Also, we have tarantulas.  In cages.  As pets."  The guy smiled, then quickly cut his losses and ran.  I did not even bother to tell the poor sap that I routinely nudge spiders out of my kitchen sink, lest they drown.

Sofia, our Common Pink Toe tarantula (avicularia avicularia)

While it may seem that we come across our pets capriciously, nothing could be further than the truth. I had met Sofia at the pet store and knew that I wanted that particular T because she was so laid back and just plain cool.  I call her Cheech because her species is usually very skittish, but she is very laid back and calm.

Madison, our Antilles Pink Toe tarantula (avicularia versicolor)

Madison?  Not so much.  Every time I open her cage, she darts to the top, as if we have been making her pound out license plates in her enclosure.  I am not afraid of either T biting me, actually for the avicularia set, bite reports are rare.  However, they are effing fast and they are climbers.  I am more afraid of them getting lost, then falling prey to a cat or a dog.

Innernets, meet Edward.  The new kid in town.

Yes, we added fins to the mix.  Just because.

Lucy, our West Highland Terrier. Purebred "scrappy".
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Having a dog is totally a Tale of Two Cities.  Dogs are a pain in the ass, y'all.  A squillion times more work than a cat and infinitesimally more work than a tarantula.  But a dog's devotion?  When you are sick on the couch crying from the pain of a concussion, that dog will be right there in your face because she is so worried about you.  She will be your child's best playmate. She will go places with you, happily. SHE WILL EAT YOUR EXPENSIVE CHEESE. 

Pearson, our pretty boy.

Harry, our burly stray who appeared like magic one day.  Our tough kitty is oddly sweet and the friendliest of the bunch.  

Vanessa, the shyest of our kitties, but the one that Team Chaos loves the most.  They had to EARN her trust and it is a privilege to pet this kitty most of all.

A month ago,  I brewed up a vat of sea monkeys.  Since I have that innate ability to suck all of the enjoyment out of any activity in my attempts to impart knowledge, it also provided a nice little lesson plan for Team Chaos on the topic of cryptobiosis (one of my children will be a Trivia Nerd, I am true and steady on my course.)

Homo Simian

Comes pre-equipped with opposable thumbs, inquisitive personality and an incredible ability to evolve.  Prehensile tail option no longer available. 

You might think we are done with pets.  You might be wrong. 

Arun's savings account for a crested gecko.

The only issue is that lizards are akin to mice in India and Daddy is not taking kindly to the thought of a lizard in the house. Me?  I am okay with it.  I have been researching the topic of lizards for over a year now and know that we can handle a crested gecko.  Also, I suspect the poo of the gecko will be something to behold.  And yes, that was my first thought in the matter.  What sort of scat will this entail?  What is the method for its removal?  What is the level and quality of aroma?  You see, gentle reader, the secret of satisfactory animal husbandry is the ability to handle a wide variety of shit.

Trust me, everyone poops.

It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings.

"Mama, stop SINGING! You are not a RADIO.  We need a RADIO because that is where the GOOD music comes from." - Anjali George

Several weeks back, we shuttered Snapgifts.com.  Which explains the lack of shilling, as of late.  Relieved much?

With a serial entrepreneur such as my husband, there are always Irons in the Fire.  Iron A, Snapgifts, was actually going well.  Business was steady, we had a system down for it. Meanwhile, Iron B was also glowing red and Iron C just needed more coal to the fire.

Quite simply, we were at a point with Snapgifts where we could not handle more growth - we were at capacity.  We were on the verge of getting overwhelmed and there was no way we could have handled the holiday rush - not without extra investment money to hire seasonal help.  Couple this with endless fraud attempts and we had to make the difficult decision to concentrate on Irons B and C.   The fraud attempts were particularly frustrating and we are very, very grateful for my background.  Since I had worked with fraud in some past positions, we were able to nip quite a load of it in the bud.  And yes, I have a post percolating on how you, as a consumer, can prevent credit card fraud (Hint: credit cards don't really care about preventing credit card fraud as much as the fancy commercials claim.  Why?  Because they pass the buck to the merchant, which works out quite profitably for the credit card company.  Nice how that works, eh?)

So, Manoj has been working full-time on Iron B since early June.  This requires him to leave the house and that has been an interesting adjustment for everyone involved.  Oh sure, I have complained about him being a WAHD, but in reality, I have lost my co-parent.  And now, I have to feed my children and change diapers again (previously, my primary duties were Entertainment and Clothing).  The kids have never really known a time when Manoj was not here most of the time - Arun has done fine with it, Anjali cried for him at first, but that is tapering off a bit now.  And both kids are skinny as matchsticks now.  (Note to Self: FEED THE CHILDREN.)

Overall, Manoj has been circumspect about this Conclusion.  In the post-mortems we have done, we are perfectly okay with what happened and how we went about the business. The ultimate business idea/endgoal was rock solid (and actually, Target and Starbucks have announced plans to do the very same thing - gift cards via your smartphone are coming, folks.  And I can report personally that having a gift card on your phone is incredibly convenient.)   Anyway! We did the very best that we could, but in the end, we did not get investment money.  Quite simply, it was time to close shop and stoke the other fires.

It was easier for Manoj to move on, because he is still working, only in a different capacity.  The adjustment for me was a little more disjointed.  One day I was working, the next day I was not.

And the freedom I felt was palpable.

I decided to celebrate by taking the kids to a berry farm, then to a puppet show.  It was a perfect day, a delicious way to put our life back on track.  I am quite happy staying home full-time and for the first time in a long time, I feel right, I am aligned.

Nevertheless, the last year has taught me that I will need to work outside of the home.  Eventually.  Someday. For now, my days are quite full in the home - Team Chaos currently figures largely, but soon enough, they will move on with their own activities, their own friends, their own lives.  It is up to me to determine my next path, lest I find myself a cautionary tale akin to Mrs. Bridge. 

And yes, I am acutely aware as to how incredibly fortunate I am to have such freedoms.  It is certainly not something that I take for granted.

Rest in peace, Snapgifts.  Thank you for giving me perspective.

It's a major award.

So, it seems I am a finalist for the BlogHer 2010 Voices of the Year.in the Opinion-Editorial category.  Very honored, very humbled.  Very much in great company.  The post of mine, Pissing off people Left and Right, was very difficult for me to write at the time.  It is still difficult to read.  The post came to me after I was publicly questioned on Facebook regarding my parenting (as in "would you really tell your kids that?")  Don't poke the Mama Bear, folks.  After my anger, I had to really sit and reflect.  And out of that, came the post.  I think there is a message in there for everyone, somewhere.  We all need to be true to ourselves, first.  And it is often very painful to get there, when it means hurting people you love, respect and admire.  Even when you disagree with their world views.  The fact that a post which was born out of such sadness is now being honored is bittersweet for me.

This is your segue and you will like it.

In more entertaining news, my BlogHer roomies this year, Dawn Rouse,  Kelli Best Oliver and Celeste Lindell (aka Average Jane, the oxymoron of blog names since Celeste is anything but average), were also finalists (Leg lamps for everyone!)  As such, the Other Kelli has declared our room a Power Room.  We just found our 4th roomie *waves furiously to Dawn* and I hope she will be not intimidated by the Awesome that will surely permeate our quarters.  And the alcohol.  The Other Kelli has promised alcohol (no?) and  I believe I am in charge of tie-dying the "I'm With Kelli" t-shirts.  And yes, This Kelli and the Other Kelli have been cackling about the name thing (Name Twin Powers: ACTIVATE!)  Actually?  when I first saw this "kelli best oliver" chick floating around The Tweetle, I thought she was mocking me.  How dare she claim the Oliver moniker and then say she is the best one??  It's been mine since 1971!  (Hey, I have never denied the narcissistic whore skulking deep within my psyche.  She's a Screamer, folks and the world is All About Me.)

Anyway, getting the Voices of the Year finalist news was a lovely way to cap a perfectly delightful weekend.  I hosted a sponsored party which I have written about on Queen of the Free Bees (seriously, it was so much FUN.  It was my first experience doing an in-home party like that and again, so FUN. Also, is it not great hosting parties if not for the sheer fact that it completely forces your hand on cleaning your damned house??  Yes?) 

Yesterday, I took Arun to the Kansas City Reptile Show.  And of course, you want to see non-simian snappage for a change, right?  No? At least I did save the snaps of the Burmese python hatchlings still in their eggs on my Flickr account, they are not for the faint of heart, even I was a little squeamish.  Click if you dare.

And yes, all of these things could be your very own Precious, if you are willing to fork over the cabbage.  Which makes me wonder, who the hell buys an alligator in Kansas??

Baby Alligators!

American alligator baby, about 18 inches.

Baby turtles!

Baby Humans!

Whatever.  He will always be MY baby.  *Sigh*  I simply adore the smiles on his face in these snaps because they are of pure, unadulterated happiness. He was in his element, folks.

You! Are! A! Toy! (pssst!! and an allosaurus)

A lot has been going on - Anjali's birthday extravaganza over the weekend, then a new niece - Rogers Baby #4 arrived on Monday sporting the Oliver nose, poor baby.

I am also on my continued trek through the Harry Potter series.  I am now on The Goblet of Fire and wow, this series was exactly what I needed right now - I love that I am not so anxious to zip right through to the end and that I am simply enjoying being in the world.  Except for the Deathly Hallows, I have read all the books many, many times over.  Previously, I was often irritated by the likes of World Quidditch Cups, S.P.E.W meetings, Hermione/Ron fights and Dobby (dear Universe, DOBBY - the Jar Jar Binks of the magical community). In past readings,  I just wanted to get to the end to find out out what happened.  This time through?  I am just sitting back and relishing.  I already know what happened.  Now? I simply want to experience.

I love re-reading books - it is not really re-reading - it should be called "experiencing again", right?  Are you a re-reader?  I have a friend who adamantly does NOT read books more than once - time should be spend on new books.  I understand her reasoning, but still cannot resist a siren call from the literary equivalent of a Sure Thing.

Do you read books many times through or are you a One Stop Shop kind of reader?

Anyway, the Goblet of Fire is about to announce its selections for the Triwizard tournament which means I need to get my ass back to my reading chair.

I will leave you with Birthday Extravaganza snappage AND special Birthday Edition footage in the meantime.....

I am Legion, for we are many.

No amount of pixie dust could save us from the ill effects of all that artificial food coloring.  Bleh.  And blargh.

3D stands for Dazed, Dizzy Dementia

We went to the Dinosaurs Unearthed exhibit at the Union Station and it was as if Team Chaos had stumbled upon some sort of Cretaceous Canaan.  First stop, the movie.  By the end, I thought I was going to vomit and desperately needed some painkillers.  But the kids loved it and I did enjoy watching their attempts to catch the dinosaurs by waving their hands in front of their eyes.  Still.  Crap on a cracker, what a mother will suffer through for her babies.  Can someone please pass a popcorn bucket and hold my hair back for me?

Rex, I am your father.

Arun would like the world to know that Rex from Toy Story is not a T Rex, but is actually an ALLOSAURUS.  Oh sure, we understand that the kindly Pixar animators needed to give Rex THREE claws so that he could grasp things and be a "helping" sort of dinosaur.  But sheesh, you'd never see this sort of blunder on the Ice Age set.

She's sassy in her sombrero .

 I don't do many videos here, but this still cracks me up, even after 20 viewings.  Also, includes special guest appearances with Manoj, my sister Maureen, and her overly-enthusiastic boyfriend Brian.

Her special gift is narcolepsy.

In 2007, I had no idea that a birth announcement would be so very fitting for the little dancing diva parading around our house, issuing edicts as is her wont.   Such a small baby filled our house and made our family whole.  She is still the tiniest being in our home but certainly, she brings a large presence.  Where her brother is laid back and fairly easy-going (we all have our days, no?), Anjali is so very not.  She has my temper, but while mine burns quickly, Anjali's simmers into a hot steamy mess.  It seems she has also inherited her father's patient tenacity and I can only begin to imagine what lies ahead in her teenage years..  I hope she puts it to good use in the future as her current attempts at holding out have not gotten her very far and were for dubious causes, at best. (Anju, fruit ice pops are not worth it.  Standards, please.)

We are going to the dinosaur extravaganza at the Union Station today for her birthday.  She is very concerned that there must be a styracosaurus AND a triceratops.  Yes, she still primarily plays with animals while a legion of baby dolls are tumbled in heaps like corpses in the toybox and my dreams of teas with American Girl Dolls in Chicago lie dormant, shining with hope.  Once in a while, she will swipe a herd of Kai-Lans, a gang of Polly Pockets or a posse of Barbies and declare "Mama, I need my HUMANS". A guest star billing has its perks.  Little does she know that later today, she will add a band of fairies to the mix.

When the house goes quiet, we know this can mean only one of two things - Arun is preoccupied with a toy, book, show, or game while Anjali is either asleep or in trouble.

Exhibit A

This is one of the oddest places in which we have found her asleep - it is as if she KNEW I was going to write a post about this today.  We have also found her asleep in the middle of her classroom floor at school and even the floor at the gym's nursery.  More times than I count, she has fallen asleep, sitting beside me in my chair.  With her chin hunched over her chest, I could swear it is my Grandpa Clyde speaking from the Great Beyond.  He would be so proud.  Dude.  If our baby girl is sleepy, nothing will stand in the way of getting in her 40 winks.  Good for her.

Exhibit B

For the record, when I found Anjali in this corner as she brandished a black marker, she could have given Lisbeth Salander a run for her money, but she saw me and began furiously wiping at her lips between giggles. Her Goth days are still to come, I suppose.  She is the child who will bring me to me knees.  She is also the child who introduced me to the wonders of the Magic Eraser.

When the photo shoots are done, she pulls out her best Sean Penn and scowls, "No more pictures!"   No charges are pending.  Yet.

Still, my favorite is when she gets angry and puts herself in time-out.  That would be the one where everybody wins.  The picture above is the result of her hapless brother offering to help her with some golf ball action at Wonderscope.  The nerve of him, right? She stormed out, quietly muttering "I do it MYSELF." and sat outside the door.  No coaxing from me could convince her to join us.

On the 4th of July she decided to do a magic show for us on the driveway.  She wielded a burned-out sparkler stick with an aura of power and solemnly declared "I am Condition Anjali!  Abracadabra! First, I am going to disappear myself!"  She ran behind me, giggling.  I replied "Condition?  I think they have a cream for that."  More giggling, then a voice demanded "Stop talking, Mama.  You're a FROG."  Lance Burton she is not, but she makes up for it in personality, sans the Kentucky drawl.

Every night, she reaches for me and nuzzles my face with hers as her fingers reach for my stomach.  "Mama, I want your tummy."  And then she whispers "You're my best mama."  and I whisper back "You're my best Anjali."  She lifts her head and replies "No, MAMA, I'm your best GIRL."

Happy birthday, Anjali Lilly.  You are complete and utter trouble yet worth every skip of my heart.

Thank you for making the last of my dreams come true.