Fears and Phobias – Boy Howdy, I’ve Got ‘Em

How much time do you have dear readers? This could go on for a while because I have issues, people. Issues. 

 

Spiders – Okay, so most bugs wig me out, but spiders are especially terrifying. (Yes, I know that technically, spiders aren’t bugs, but whatever.) In my house, we call them Satan’s Snowflakes – like snowflakes, no two are alike. Each one is individually handcrafted by Satan himself. 

They have all those legs and they can go anywhere. Like sometimes, you’re just sitting on the couch yawning and minding your own business and you look up and there’s a spider on the ceiling…possibly waiting to fall into your mouth as you choke on a yawn. The little bastard below was hanging in the basement by my washing machine. And that's when I stopped doing laundry. 

Dentists – Now I have had some truly horrible experiences at the dentist. Seriously, there’s nothing like hallucinating while you’re under anesthetic, but aside from that, it seriously creeps me out to have someone else’s hands in my mouth. It’s just not okay. 

Clowns – I don’t know the history of these little bastards, and I don’t care. They’re disturbing as fuck, and I want nothing to do with them. Now, there’s some horrid person dressing up as a clown on Staten Island and just creeping around scaring people. WHO DOES THAT!?!?!? Here’s the story if you want to see the madness for yourself. (Story.) I’m pretty sure if I saw that dude skulking around, I’d never leave my house again.

And because clown and spiders aren't bad enough on their own, here's a freaking Clown Crab Spider - What. The. Actual. Fuck. Evolution!?!?!?

In addition to the above, fairly stupid, things, I'm also terrified of things something terrible happening to my kids or the rest of my family and friends - but especially my kids.

I'm also phobic about house fires and on particularly bad nights, I can't sleep without checking the entire house multiple times. 

Tornadoes are another big fear - I've seen several up close and personal and that was way more than I necessarily wanted to. Every time, I hear the tornado siren in the spring and summer, I kinda get a little wiggy.

These are the main ones. I'm sure there are more, but these are the ones that jumped into my head first. 

Check out the other bloggers fears and phobias by clicking on their names! Leigh Jones, Jess Jarman, Kellie St. James, Tess Grant and Kris Norris.

Pro Tip Regarding Spiders

PRO TIP: Discovering a spider staring at you from the top of your shower head while you're rinsing the conditioner from your hair may cause drowning while you scream for help that will never arrive because your husband has left for work and your children sleep like the dead (and also like spiders just about as much as you do.)

It can also cause bruising when you throw open the shower curtain to discover that the little fucking bastard is there waiting for you right. by. your. hand. and you fall out of the tub and trip over the toilet to get away from it.

So...you know...heads up.

When Satan's Snowflakes Attack

Like a lot of places in the States, we're having one hell of an early spring in Michigan. Seriously. It's been in the 80s this week. The grass is growing, the flowers are blooming, the trees are budding and apparently Satan's Snowflakes are out and about.

If you're unfamiliar with the concept of Satan's Snowflakes, let me clarify. Spiders are not hatched. They're unique - individually handcrafted by Satan to scare the ever living fuck out of me.

So today, at oh-dark-hundred, I'm making my way through our backyard to the garage so I can take the kids to school and I walk through some freshly strung cobwebs. I flail around try to slap them off my face and mange to spill my hot tea down the front of my top. (Nothing says good morning like scalded breasts.)

Then I feel it. A bite. On. My. Lip. THERE WAS A SPIDER ON MY FACE. ON MY MOUTH. Like any good arachnophobe, I screamed. And flailed around some more.

Killian: Dude.

Corwin: Problem?

Me: A goddamn spider bit my lip! It's tingling!

Killian: At least it wasn't a black widow.

Me: Seriously?! There was a spider on my face and that's your idea of comfort?

Killian: I coulda said brown recluse...

Me: It's swelling. And turning numb.

Corwin: Can I see?

I turned on the the light in the car.

Killian:. Huh. So it is.

So we drove to pick up Justin with me alternating poking at my numb and swollen lip and raking my fingers through my hair in fear that the little bastard was still crawling on me somewhere. So we get to Justin's house and my skin is crawling and I'm twitching like I'm in detox and Justin gets in the car.

Justin: I don't want to go to school.

Me: At least a fucking spider didn't bite your lip.

Justin: That's what you get for making out with a spider.

Me: EWWWWWW, Justin!

Justin: You were into it.

So yeah...this has been my morning and it's not even 9 am yet. I'm gonna go take some more Benedryl and put more hydrocortisone on my lip.

8th Grade Science, I Hate You Already

Tuesday was the first day of school. Not only was it the first day of school, it was also the day that the first big project of the year was handed out.

The Bug Project of Doom (Okay, I added the "of doom" part, but the bugs, that's all the science teacher, who's clearly a fucking sadist. But more on that in a bit.)

So for two hours today, I helped Corwin catch bugs (read: squealed and pointed) and so did Killian and Brynn's oldest son. They were awesome. Well, except for the part where they scared the hell out of me with this HUGE ASS SPIDER. And they discovered for themselves what kind of freak I am. I'm pretty sure the neighbors thought I was being murdered. The boys felt bad and hugged me. Apparently, they've never heard me make that noise before.

This is the evil spider... It's in a sandwich container and it's spider-y butt is about the size of a nickel. Too damn big in my opinion. Two words. Satan's Snowflake.

But I digress. So the boys collected other bugs and sealed them in their tupperware containers. Luckily, they found seven of the ten required. The spider was a bonus. An evil bonus.

Before I tell you this next part, you need to understand something about Corwin. He's really softhearted. When he was little, he wouldn't step on ants like his classmates, he'd protect them and try to build elaborate houses for them out of leaves and sticks. He's got the biggest heart of anyone I know. He loves animals and can't stand to see anything or anyone mistreated. Today, I learned that that love extends to bugs, too.

Part of this damn assignment is to kill the bugs so they can be mounted on a board and displayed for a grade. The methods are freezing and a cotton ball soaked with nail polish remover. Well, I don't wear nail polish, so there's no remover in this house. So freezing it would have to be.

I knew there would be a problem when he said to me from the backseat, "This grasshopper looks like he's thinking 'I get to go home after this, right?'" The commentary about the grasshopper continued off and on on the way home and by the time he had to put the bugs in the freezer, he was really upset about having to "murder them."

I was torn between telling him we'd just deal with the bad grade and he didn't have to do it and worrying that that would could turn into a habit of avoiding difficult tasks because he doesn't want to do them. By the time we made it home, most of the bugs were dead because of lack of oxygen. But not that grasshopper. No...of course not. He had to put it in the freezer.

We both realize that the coming autumn would have killed these bugs anyway. But that's different than being the one to do it. I get that 95% of 8th graders could care less about freezing a grasshopper to death. But then there are the 5% who want nothing to do with taking a life. Should they be made to? Did I fail him as a parent for not speaking up in time and saying, "Fuck the project."

I think I might have.

All I know is that I have a sad kid who's racked with guilt and keeps looking balefully at the freezer.

Satan's Snowflakes

This week has been a PITA from beginning to end. Dead car battery, naughty kittens, stupid vets - more details can be found here.

Now I'd like to share the irony of last night. I hate cooking - really, really do. Not that I don't appreciate home cooked meals...I just hate the cooking part. I want a replicator like they have on Star Trek. That would be fantastic, but I digress.

Yesterday, I decided that Chicken Marsala sounds delicious - so I went to the store, got some Marsala and mushrooms and started to cook. That was my first mistake. As the chicken was browning, I noticed something awful. There was a hugeass, hairy spider right above my head.

You have to understand - I hate spiders with the burning passion of a thousand fiery suns. I fear them as much as I fear clowns. Somone I know once said that spiders are not hatched from eggs. They're unique - handcrafted by Satan himself each one as individual as a snowflake. In fact, she calls them Satan's Snowflakes.

So I've got one of Satan's special, special snowflakes above my head while I'm trying to cook and the damn thing it literally following me around the kitchen. Taunting me. Seriously. I'd stand by the stove, it would skitter across the ceiling to hang above my head. I'd move to the sink, the bastard would follow me. We did this repeatedly while I tried to make supper. Spider tag all around the kitchen.

Unfortunately my kids wouldn't get rid of it for me because it was hairy and my husband was still at work. I called him on his cell to find out when the hell he'd be home. The conversation went like this.

Him answering the phone: Hey hon. I'm not dead in a ditch somewhere - I'm still at work.
Me: Actually, I didn't call about your ditch status. When are you coming home?
Him: Probably not for at least an hour. Why?
Me: Because there's a giant fucking spider stalking me while I'm trying to cook.
Him: I'm sure it's not stalking you.
Me: Don't patronize me! It's totally stalking me. I think it wants me dead...or it really hates Chicken Marsala.
Him: I'm not patronizing you, but you do realize you're attributing conscious thought to a spider, right?
Me: What part of it's a spider don't you understand? Satan's snowflakes? Seriously, it's following me around the kitchen.

(At this point I hear muffled laughter and realize I'm on speaker phone. GUH!!!!)

Him: Have the boys take care of it.
Me: It has fur - they're not going near it.
Him: I promise - I'll get it as soon as I get home.

He did indeed catch the spider and put it outside where it belongs and I'm currently spider free. However, I think there's a lesson to be learned from all of this and that lesson is I shouldn't cook. Because spiders will get me.