Loose Ends

Ever since I started this blog, I’ve been wondering how to get my other one neatly sewn up and literally bound. I’ve always intended in getting it sent to Blurb for just such a purpose, but with having several (55) posts still in draft form, an unknown number protected, I knew that not all 1,247 posts would transfer into a text file.

I don’t want to delete the drafts because many of them are on topics that I just think are either too opinionated for general publishing, but when I look through them I still get the punched-in-the-gut feeling I had when I typed the first words.

I also don’t want to publish all my protected posts since I’m still paranoid about ex-coworker (who appears to have stopped dropping in, but yeah – paranoia), and there’s the posts about the crazy relatives, and more importantly, some of my protected posts are about our donor cycle.

Last night I think I finally came up with a solution on how to salvage every 1, 247 posts (not to mention thousands of comments) so that I can finally get them into physical form. Actually I came up with two solutions, but while I’m leaning towards one, I thought I’d throw them out there for you to consider since I may be overlooking something really important; something that may make the whole idea moot.

My first possible solution was to just change the URL so instead of it being “ddtko”, I could change it to “yoyosoldshit” or something similar. That way if ex-coworker decides to pull up my blog, she’ll get an error since the URL will be gone. I can then unprotect and publish everything.

My second idea was to create a new blog (don’t scream in frustration yet) and “transfer” everything from ddtko over and then just rework the new blog by either unprotecting or publishing from there. Plus, I can make that one relatively private so it doesn’t show up in searches.

There both pretty similar in ideas. The benefit to the second is that I can leave the original so that any past links and search results still are valid.

Am I missing something? Are either of these doable? Are there any shortcomings I hadn’t thought of?


ETA: Let’s see if I can clarify: my current URL is https://knockuout.wordpress.com. I can change the URL to anything else for a name (as long as it’s not taken) but that means that anyone who ever clicked on or linked to knockuout.wordpress.com would end up getting nothing if I changed the name.  I’m thinking about creating a duplicate blog to my OLD blog but changing the name so that I can publish everything without losing the original content of my OLD blog.

Ugh. That didn’t help a frickin bit, did it?

Last, This and Next

This past weekend, Sparring Partner came up with a raging case of the Man Flu complete with migraines and what my dear sweet mother refers to as The Trots. Not sure why it’s The Trots. Maybe because it’s slower than The Runs? Yeah, no clue. My mother also is the one who says “WalMarts” and “cousints” and told us kids to “Go jump off a bridge!” or “Go lay an egg!” when we were driving her insane. Which is a bit of a mind-fuck since we did indeed have a bridge on the lane and of course, we had chickens.

I just figured this Man Flu was just Sparring Partner’s way of getting out of doing anything about the house because he always seems to have some degree of it on the weekends. Therefore his moaning and groaning about what little sunlight there was piercing his delicate brain through the windows, and his infinite trips to the bathroom, were really just par for the course.

Even when Aitch threw out a couple of diapers that emitted the kind of fumes that would strip car paint, did I really believe anything was up.

Well, lo and behold, Monday night my own plumbing started working overtime.

And really? That’s all I need to say about that.

Sparring Partner and I have this running (no pun intended) argument about what is considered “this” or “last” or “next” when it comes to days in the week.

For example, when I talk about THIS weekend (with today being the 24th), I’m referring to the 27-28th. That would make NEXT weekend March 6-7th and LAST weekend the 20-21st.

On the other hand, Sparring Partner, refers to THIS weekend as the one that’s past and NEXT weekend is the one just coming up (27-28th). LAST weekend then ends up being the 13-14th.

Well? Which weekend do you consider as LAST, THIS or NEXT?

Come Back!

Imagine that’s my plaintive wail as I stand at the end of a dusty lane as you, my lover, confused and spurned by my inability to commit to anything other than my field of corn and dreams of someday running circus made up entirely of hamster performers, leaves me to wallow in my self-pity. Or something like that because I’m not very good with the verbal visual stuff, like similes and shit.

Sorry if my recent posts have put you off. Some days I just have to unload and ask that you just read it, process it, and then we can all move on, OK?

Because trust me, if it continues to be this quiet here, I’m going to start whining again.

Also, I’m going to be testing out some stuff (no, not review-type-testing), but trying to find some bloggers that are closer vicinity-wise and see what I can dig up so there may be some minor changes here and there. So minor, you may not even notice, but just FYI.

So, yeah, where’s the love?!

Bitch and Moanday

How odd is this? Our local telephone directory will list your address and phone number free of charge if you have a land-line. However, if your only phone is a cell-phone – like it is in our case – you have to pay $24.00 a year to have it listed.


Well, I called F.D.C. Publishing (because their website? Holy cow, does it suck.) to ask that very question.

You see, it’s because if I have a land-line, that information, including my address, is available via a list/report. Most likely, one that F.D.C. Publishing must purchase annually. THAT is the information that gets published for FREE in the phone directory (unless one specifies otherwise??).

Strangely though, even if I call them with the same information – a phone number and address – I must pay a fee for that privilege.

Of course I know that the advantage to not being listed is no cold-calls, but the disadvantage is that with a community as small as we are, anyone who wants to get a hold of either Sparring Partner or myself will actually call his parents to get a phone number and/or address from us. Isn’t that nice? So I guess my in-laws getting their number listed for free does have at least THAT caveat.

On a related note, I submitted all three of our cell phone numbers to the Do Not Call list because some whore of a credit card company sold them to telemarketers. I want my number listed / not-listed! I’m an enigma.

Anything you want to get off your chest this fine Monday?

Face It

Sparring Partner and I have less than a handful of “shared friends” on Facebook, and of those they are my family. His network includes classmates, social friends, old neighbors, and his family. He’s even friends with Doodicus’s old caregiver. You remember? The one who fired us just a couple weeks before school started so we had to look for last minute daycare from which he would come home crying every day because he didn’t have any friends and was gutted as he thought it was all his fault? Yeah, I remember. Funny, my husband does not even though I have it documented.

Occasionally, Sparring Partner pops in and comments on one of my status updates. It’s usually late at night, after I’m already in bed so I don’t see it until the next day. He’ll call me at work and ask if I’ve seen it and if I was upset by whatever he’s added.

For example:

I thought it was funny and told him it was fine. He said he toned it down a little as he was originally going to say “ass raped”. Wasn’t that nice of him to tone it down just so I could raunch it up for you? I explained that my FB friends have read way more offensive things via my blog then he could probably come up with on Facebook.

While we were talking about it last night, his FB account was up and I saw an update from one of his friends, who happen to be the youngest son of one of our old neighbors. The kid’s status was how he recently became a fan of one of those “YOUR [sic] in OUR country now. You speak OUR language,” and here *I* was the one who became offended. I told Sparring Partner he should comment and say something to the affect, “Funny, but that doesn’t LOOK like Cree or Cherokee (which are the only Native American languages with their own writing systems – FYI).”

With only a little insistence on his end, I let it go. I too have FB friends that occasionally post something that goes against my opinions or beliefs, e.g. Obama is going to force the schools to teach our kids about Muslim law!, to which I guess is fair since I’d be the first to post that Sarah Palin is a c*nt, which hello! I would obviously not be the first.

If you have a Facebook account and we aren’t in each other’s network of friends, I’d be happy to hook up (email: thismamasaid [at] gmail [dot] com. And if I offended you, but you’re still friends with me? Thank you for your infinite patience and the realization that my ignorance is all part of my infinite charm. Four years of blogging has proven that.

I Miss Infertility

These were the words conveyed to me via an email from a former blogger about a month before Aitch was born in 2008. She had gone through infertility herself and was trying to find her land-legs as a post-infertility-slash-mommy-blogger. Her exact words follow:

“Slap me now, but it makes me miss infertility a little bit.  The answer was always right there.  Why am I not happy?  INFERTILITY!  And there was really very little need to look beyond that because infertility is huge and all-consuming.  All other problems get shunted aside.”

These words were like a bolt of lightning the first time I read them.

They now shake me to the core with their foreshadowing truth.

For years infertility was my scapegoat.

Depressed? It was because another negative beta; a poor ovarian response; an inevitable miscarriage.

Weight gain? I blamed the hormone injections and birth-control pills month after month.

Aversion to gatherings of friends and family? I didn’t want to hear about “God’s Plans” or how “if it was meant to be, it’ll be” or the pitiful looks when they found out that I wasn’t going to stay pregnant.

Irritability at home towards Sparring Partner and/or Doodicus? They were collateral damage in my week to week failings as a wife and mother.

So what do I blame now? Infertility was my security blanket I was able to wrap around myself and hide under – to veil the truth that was beyond what I thought was The Problem. In my head, I know what IT is, but in my heart I just don’t want IT to be THAT because I have tried to convince myself I have nothing to be depressed about. I got what I went after, a sibling to my son who is everything and so much more than I could have dreamed. I beat infertility.

Yeah…I miss infertility.