Showing posts with label Little Patty Bug Head. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Little Patty Bug Head. Show all posts

Friday, January 24, 2014

Goldfish: Past and Present

I had goldfish as a little girl.  I remember when my Dad took me to Kmart and bought me a 10-gallon aquarium. He let me pick which rocks I wanted (azure blue) and which statue I wanted (a magenta and purple grotto) and finally which fish.  Out of the tank of 89-centers I picked my fave.  And named him Goldy.
When Goldy died, I got Goldy 2.
Followed by Goldy 3.
And then Goldy 4.
And the suffixed numbers in their name were pronounced.  If someone asked my fish's name I would tell them, "Goldy Three." 
After Goldy 4 my next fish was Neptune.  He was also a goldfish.  Maybe it was a break of the Goldy Curse but I had Neptune so long and he go so big I called and donated him to the Pittsburgh Zoo.  He needed a bigger habitat than I could provide.  As an adult, this story seems far-fetched.  I was 10.  I had a goldfish I thought was outgrowing it's aquarium so I called the zoo.  And with my altruistic heart, donated my .89 cent fish to the zoo.  What a philanthropist!

When we moved back to Idaho Falls, this past Thanksgiving, I took the boys over to see my neighbor Lee.  He and his wife are also from da Burgh and live right behind us.  In his basement he had 3 huge 'UGE aquariums.  The big 55 gallon monsters.  The boys were mezza-merized.   The next day Lee called and said he was gonna give the boys one of his aquariums for Christmas if I was okay with it.  Psht.  Hell Yeah!  Lee kept his fish and we got one gorgeous tank.  In time (after the proper bacteria had accumulated) we got three little fish of our own.  I named mine Ari Gold, Ken named him Gilligan, and Kole was at a loss on what to name his.  I started naming some names he liked; "Gordon," "Thomas," "Scotty," "Koley," "Charlie," "Tony,"
At which point Kole yelled, "Yeah!  PONY!"
So Tony became Pony and we had our fish named.
Now little Pony had some birth defects.  He looked like a hunchback goldfish.  His poor fin was stunted and he looked like he'd been picked on a lot.  I felt bad for Pony.  There goes that over-sized heart again.  I did my best to treat Pony well...nay.  I did my best to treat Pony way better than the other fish.
Which, I mean, is hard to do with fish.
But I'd put in extra food in where he was swimming and... well... that's it.
Come on.  What other ways are there?
I did always tell Kole and Joey to be nice to him and not talk about his funny fin.
He was our fish. And we were happy to have him. And we loved him no matter what.
I really felt good to have Pony safe in our tank.
Where no other fish could pick on him.
Or call him mean Fish Names behind his dorsal.  Or post rumors on their Fish Facebook pages.  Or unkindly mimic his crooked swimming.
He was safe from all the bullying in my tank.  Under my aquatic maternal wing.
Things were calm under the water.
But then one day, at dinner time, I noticed Pony chasing Ari and Gil away from the food.  He'd just swim real fast by them and kinda surprise them so they'd swim away.
I was shocked!
"Pony!  Be nice to them!"
Which probably sounded like "OOOnnnnnnN!  Ooouu gauoouuu mmmm!"
You know.  *clears throat* Under water sounds weird.
I tapped on the glass by him as a warning.  You know.  I'm in charge, Pony.  You listen up!
Needless to say my disciplining had no effect WHATsoever!
Pony just kept pestering the other fish. And not just at breakfast and dinner.  He was bullying them for pleasure.
 The drilling is Ken working on our shelving- but it kinda fits the scene.  Does it not?
When I discussed the issue with Ken- he was completely flippant.
"They're fish, babe."
"Yes.  They are.  And one fish is mistreating the other fish."
He didn't seem all too bothered by it.  Where's your heart, man!

I stayed up thinking about Pony:
He was probably bullied at some point in his life.
He looks weird.  He swims funny.  I bet he's been made fun of.
He's probably had a hard time making friends.  He's just passing it on.  He doesn't know any better.  This is how bullies are.
Maybe he comes from a single-parent home.  Maybe he's missed out on loving relationships.
Maybe he's suffering from depression or anxiety.  Maybe he misses the big tank at the pet store.
Maybe he views himself negatively and just needs steady positive reinforcement.

At this point I started dreaming up my business cards:
Patty Poulsen, PhD
Fish Psychologist


For 3 days I watched Pony bully my other two fish.
I watched Ari and Gilligan try to make themselves shrink and swim in smaller and smaller circles.
No amount of glass tapping and above-to-underwater scolding was reaching this dang fish!
One morning.  I woke up.  And Gil and Ari were hiding in the plant while Pony swam circles around them occasionally nosediving at them.
That was it!  I could justify his behavior...NO MORE!
I got a Mason jar.  Filled it up.  And scooped Pony into it.
"You're in Solitary Confinement today, Mister!  That's right The SHU!  Get used to it, Meanie!"


My next step was obvious.
Call the pet store.
They told me their policy for aquatic animals was 14 days for full refund.
So, after the kids went to bed, and after a full day in The Box for Pony I toted him back to Petco.
Their first question after realizing he wasn't dead was "Is he sick?"
I explained he was perfectly healthy and that he was just mean.
The two men just stared at me.
"What?," I said.
"You are returning him... because... he's mean?"
"Yeah." (I was not getting their surprise.)  "He's a bully.  And he's terrorizing my other fish and I don't want him in my aquarium.  He's too mean."
They just kept staring at me.  Mouths a-dropped.
So I continued, "Your return policy stipulates 14 days.  I'm under that mark.  I no longer want this aggressive fish.  I am returning him.  I have my receipt."
At which time I handed over Pony.  In the jar.  With my receipt.
And you bet your butt I got my dollar sixty-five back. Psht.  I also told the pet store people they should let prospective buyers know about Pony's past.  But I think they quit listening after they handed me my change and dumped Pony back in the tank with 35 other one-inch goldfish.

A few days later, after Ari and Gil felt comfortable swimming in the open water again we got 3 more fish to complete our aquarium.

And, thank heaven, they all seem to be getting along swimmingly.



Harvey

Gilligan (Gil)

CiCi

Shelby
Ari Gold

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Birthday Eve Thoughts.

Tomorrow I turn 29.
29 seems like a perfect age.
Every year Vicky tells me that the age I am turning was the best year of her life.
She's that way.
Always makes me feel like I am on the brink of something incredible.

29 does seem pretty kick ass.
But 30.  30 seems solid.
30 is like I already kicked a lot of asses so don't mess with me.
It's gonna be a busy year for me with that slogan.
Eh, live in the moment.
That's cliche.
To tell you the truth...I'm not that good at living in the moment.
I mean I think I used to be and I think I will be again.
There are just so many moments of kids crying.
Not wanting to live in those moments so much.
I've never really felt like any one certain age.

Or any certain size.  Clothing wise.
Numbers don't matter all that much to me.
Ha.
Good thing I didn't follow through with that Accounting degree.
Ba-Dump!
I love, love, love birthdays.
My mom used to tell us we were the Queen on our birthdays.
Everyone had to do what we said.
We could have whatever we wanted for dinner.
I thought... This is what it'll be like when I'm a Mom.
It'll be like my birthday everyday.
Every one will listen to me.
I can make whatever I want for dinner.
I'll be Queen everyday.
.......
Ba-Dump!
Sometimes I pretend I'm Cora from Downton Abby when I'm talking to Koley.
That makes me feel like a queen.
I do it a lot.
The secret is to speak softly and use "very" a lot while gently turning your head.
Do you think it's better to be a queen or a princess?
I've always been Patty Patty Princess.
(There's a whole song.)
Queens do seem to be stereotyped as old.
I wonder what my stereotype is?
Not old.
I've been just awful at stereotyping people lately.
I can't break the habit.
I'm stereotyping them as characters from Thomas the Tank Engine.
So maybe that's type-casting?
If someone is really showing off their smarts...
Ugh... SHE'S an Emily.
If someone is obsessing about their looks...
Talk about being a JAMES!
If someone is worrying about nothing for no reason.
Tooo-tal Percy.
People are always making that joke to old people on their birthdays "Turning 29, right?  BAHAHAHA!"
Does that mean this is my last birthday?
From now on I just repeat 29 over and over?
What were you doing when you were 29?
What do you wish you were doing when you were 29?
This is a chance to live vicariously through me, here.
I've got some plans for this year.
Graduate from college.
Read a ton more books.
Jim Gaffigan wrote a book and I was laughing a-loud reading it at Barnes and Noble today.
Putting it on the Amazon Wish List.  Stat.
There's something to do this year!
Knock some items off the ol' wish list.
Treat cho-self.
I'm going to ride my bike more.
And take more pictures with me in them.
Not in a conceited way.
But I have, what, 2500 pictures of Kole and Joey?
Ken's in about a third of those.
And I'm in like 2.
With no makeup and an ugly pink flannel robe on.
I deserve a little better.
I'm 29!
Treat cho-self.
I am going to learn to do more with my hair too.
And finally crack open that fly rod I got for Christmas back in 2010.
I'm feeling good.
I feel settled.
Content.
Excited.
Wondrous.
I feel like me.



Tuesday, April 16, 2013

N is for Novice Advice.

Back in '95 I was working on my Gospel In Action award.  One of the requirements was "List ways you can become a better friend and practice some of them."  I was eleven.  And I had some damn good advice.  And I loved using WordPerfect.  Clipart was as fun then as it is now.

Points to Notice:
1.  Rude noises in #3?  Was I thinking like that armpit sound boys in 5th grade made?  I didn't even know how to do that.  Still don't.  Was it snorting when laughing?  I wish my younger self was more specific.
2.  Re-read #4.   I will give out encouragement to those who do not feel they are not doing good.  That would be the people who think they are doing good.  I really wanted to lather those feel-gooders up.
3.  Uh, #11?  Still struggling with that one 18 years later. 

There you have it The 12 Step Program to Be a Better Friend.  Review the list... and then... review your life.

Last years A to Z: N is For Number 1.  It's the best possible music flashback.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Valentine's in 3 Parts

PART I

Top 10 Reasons Ken Loves Me (I Bet)

1.  I ask but never force him to participate in Harry Potter Marathons.
2.  I clean the kitchen once every 24 hours.
3.  I'm very good about shutting the door when I'm in the bathroom.
4.  I work out in order to keep up a sexy physique.   Shooting for two trips to the gym this week.  Wert.
5.  I make sure his shirts are ironed.  Sometimes he does the ironing.  I just make sure their done before work.

Uh oh. I could only come up with 5.  5 semi-good reasons.  I serious married up when I married Ken.  And he reminds me alllll the time.  No.  Not really.  I remind him though.  And I like to tell him how lucky I feel and how loved I feel with him in my life.  Because I do.




PART II

Top 10 Reasons I Love Ken

1.  He can watch a really boring show about engineering bridges and by the end I am totally into it and want to learn more about how exactly they make the steel do that?  And how many other areas can benefit?  And is there a sequel to "Bridges of Northeast Vermont"?
2.  He cooks dinner.  Every.  Night.  Not kidding.  And it's the good stuff.  Nothing frozen.  He enjoys it.  Which is totally awesome because the few nights I've volunteered to make dinner to take a load off of him... it's been awful.  The food is awful (and not cooked enough) and the experience is awful.  
3.  He is really good at driving in reverse and pulling into parking spots.  
4.  He reads.  All kinds of books.  I think he is on his 7th or 8th book this YEAR!  
5.  He grew his beard again.
6.  He wants to spend time with the boys and gets his version of upset if one of them is in bed early before he gets home.
7.  His version of upset goes no further than mildly irritated.   
8.  He's book smart and mechanically smart.  
9.  He'll take a short shower so I can have all the hot water.
10.  He laughs at my jokes.  
11.  He can see potential in unwanted things.
12.  He keeps a journal.
13.  He tells me when my clothes don't match.
14.  He makes the weekends special without having to go somewhere.
15.  If I have a plan or an idea or a dream he makes it happen.
16.  Everytime he burps he acts like he's never done it before.
17.  He knows when the teasing has reached a not fun point and is able to stop.
18.  He makes really good angel food cake.

18!  Already!  Yoiks!  It's easy to love Ken.

PART III

When we were growing up our mom taught us that Valentine's Day is about love.  Not about relationships.  Growing up my mom would make cut out hearts and they'd be laying at our spots at the table when she called us in for breakfast and morning scripture study.  She'd write "Cutie Pie" or "Honey Bun" on it and it'd be accompanied with a little candy treat.  It always made me feel very special.  And loved.  I think this helped me feel like it didn't matter if I was "alone" on the Big Day.  I was loved.  Valentine's Day is a day to eat the foods you love.  Wear the clothes you love.  And tell anyone you love- that you DO love them.        
I'm teaching Koley the same thing.
Today we had his favorite food for breakfast.  Donuts.  We made valentines for our neighbors (because we love them) and he put his favorite (Cars) stickers on them.  We are going to have corndogs for lunch and we is wearing his favorite outfit.  Sweat pants and a Thomas shirt.  
Today is all about Love.

I can remember being little and having the Valentine's Day party at school coming up.  Mom and Dad said we should make our Valentines.  And bear in mind... this was 20 years ago.  WAY before homemade stuff was "cool."  Dad made them in Word and we cut them out.  Colored them.  Glitter is coming to mind.  And wrote PERSONAL messages to our classmates. Not just signed our names!  We expressed ourselves! I can still remember one of the valentines had monkeys laughing in a barrel and it had typed something like "I Like Monkeying Around With You!"  I didn't want to give that one out to anyone.  But at the end of the night... it was the last one left and I had one more classmate to write one to.  I gave it Michael Lakatos.  Who I didn't want to give one to at all.  Probably because I was in 3rd grade and liked him.  And giving him a valentine would make my crush very obvious.  

I don't remember what happened at the party.  Did he notice?  Did he cherish it?  Did he embarrass me and I have blocked it out?   Hmmm.  Not sure.  Not sure.

Doesn't matter.  I've got my Valentiner- Kenner.
And two little wanna-be Kenners here that love me.
And it's totally mutual. 


Tuesday, December 11, 2012

A Letter to Santa from My 8-year Old Self


November 15, 1992

Dear Santa,
All I really want for Christmas is a dog.  My sister, Vicky who is also writing to you wants one too.  (She already got Pebbles.)  Could I please have a dog?  I'm trying to earn one but it isn't working out.  My sister, Vicky said she would help.  And the dog would be mine.  She said her pay would be a little dog to kick when it tugs her leg. 
Oh, by the way, How are you?
I Love You!
Love,
PATTY

P.S. WRITE BACK, PLEASE.
P.S.S.  In the other envelope there are pictures.  On the back it says what it is.
P.P.S.S.  If time send back pictures.

Few things I love about this correspondence to Mr. C.  1.) My use of commas.  Not always completely correct but I did try for correct comma placement.  2.)  My afterthought to ask Santa how he was doing?  3.)  How this letter is more about my sister, Vicky, than getting a dog for Christmas.  4.)  I asked Santa if I could have one.  Not if he would being me one.  Like my parents were Mom, Dad, and Santa.  5.)  Vicky's payment would be a little dog to kick?  What?!  It's a good thing Santa didn't bring a dog into our abusive environment.  Sheesh!  Not a big selling point there.  6.)  I told Santa I loved him.  Always say that too soon.  7.)  My post scripts.  I got the "PS."  Then made is "PSS."  Not knowing then (or for the next 17 years what PS stood for.  And, finally, making it "PPSS."  I guess just in case it was "PSS." (Which I think is what a snake says.)  Or in case it was supposed to be "PPS" and I messed up the first time.

I only wish I knew what pictures I sent him.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Simply Irresistible

Anytime we had balloons (so basically just on some one's birthday) my sisters and I would stuff them in our shirts and back of our pants.  Then we would have big ole' boobies and butts!  We completed the ensemble with shawls, old lady slippers, knitted hats, and I apparently thought a kazoo would be appropriate. I think we honing in on the old ladies at church.

And when that got old.....
I'm the little one in blue.  And, yes, that's a bungee cord holding that robe on.

Do you see why I want girls?  I don't think I could get Koley to do this.  I don't think Kenmo would approve.