Another Reason to Hate Bugs

 ****Edited because apparently I was so strung out on kids this morning I forgot to add the pictures.  Yep!  That's me, the one my friends call Techie...."*******



I have issues with insects.  Well, I'm not really sure issues is the right word.  I hate them.  Always have.  My dad is a major bug lover so I can only imagine the massive disappointment it is for him to have such an avid and vocal bug hater for a daughter.  Such is life though, we can't always get what we want.

For me bugs are either gross, annoying or downright terrifying.  Moving from the Northeastern US to Texas was a real eye-opener for me.  I encountered more weird bugs and crazy looking things than I ever thought it possible they could exist.  Then I moved to Australia.  A place that Evolution said, "Nah, nevermind.  Even I can't figure out what to change you into so I'm just going to take off"  There are things here that are simply insane.  Either in size, color or just weirdness.  I spend a great deal of my waking moments wondering, "What the Hell is that and how long do I have to live?"

As you can guess, bugs are big part of my conscientiousness.  I bitch about them constantly.  There I said it.  Now people can't complain about my whinging if I own up to it right?  No, they can but it was worth a shot.  I bring this up because I do blame a lot of my problems on bugs.  I blame my heart palpitations, my sore throats from screaming, the pain in my head from all headaches and I blame the large scar on my leg caused by last year's sick tick bite.

However this morning, I'm blaming my children's crazy behavior on a bug.  Normally even I wouldn't do that.  They've earned the right to take responsibility for their own stupid-ass actions but no, today, I blame this moth.

I saw this moth up high in my kitchen curtains the other day.  I made Teddy climb up on the counter to see what it was - yes, he is my personal canary in the mine - and low and behold it's a blue moth.  Now I'm not afraid of moth's, they are classified as simply annoying to me.  This one was blue though, something I'd never seen so I posted a picture on Facebook because this weird stuff still gets me.  This morning I noticed though that Mr. Moth is now an Ex-Moth.  Note following picture.

It seems he didn't notice the BIG ASS spider web web 6 inches from where he was resting and flew into it and Madam Spider got her some breckie....Circle of Life.  No tears on my part, one less bug in the universe.  As Agnostic Front used to say on their whirlwind metal music tours, "Kill 'em all, let God sort 'em out"

I mention to the kids that the blue moth has bit it.  No big deal, right.  Nope,  this is when the Hell begins.  Connor comments that it's not blue.  It's orange.  Both Teddy and I turn to look at it.  No, it's blue.  "NO!!!" Connor insists, it's orange!!!  Then Teddy fires back that she's blind and doesn't know what she's talking about.  I, with a bit more tact, state humbly that the moth is in fact, blue.  Connor yells, "No, from my distance, it's ORANGE!"  Meaning, I assume from her perspective, but I haven't had any tea yet so I could be wrong.  Teddy takes this moment to lay straight back, on top of Connor, forcing her to fall back to keep boy cooties from touching her.  He does this, again with the assumption to look at the moth from her "distance"

This is when it all snowballs straight to the fiery pits of Hell. Connor kicks Teddy in the back for touching her, Teddy yells at her for being stupid about the moth and for kicking him.  I point out that he was laying on her and with a Tessi worthy snarl he turns to me and spits out, "I.wasn't.on.her.  I.was.over.her"  Tessi starts laughing, Connor is glowering.  I blink heavily and spit back with more venom, "I'm.looking.right.at.you.  You're.laying.on.her.right.now. DUMBASS"  He storms out, Tessi is laughing uncontrollably now.  She gets up and says, "Mommy, you know how you decorate our chairs on our birthdays? Well, you know how Connor got to pick the colors for her chair?  I want light blue and light green."  Great, now I have to hunt the shops this morning for light blue and light green crepe paper, on top of making 25 cupcakes, a cake, wrap presents, 4 loads of laundry.  No problem.

I turned to Connor and said, "YOU!  I blame you for this.  Every other year it didn't matter what color crepe paper I used and now I have to take custom orders!"  I would like to mention that this was a joke.  She was laughing....and then stopped.  The sobbing started and she ran from the table shouting, "YOU HATE ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

This all happened before 7:02 this morning.

All because of a dead Australian blue bug...and 3 crazy kids.

Happy Anniversary

Five years ago today my family stumbled blear- eyed off of a 14 hour flight and woke up in Sydney.  A new country, a new continent and even a new hemisphere.  Within 24 hours of travel time we left the mild temps of Spring in North Texas and arrived in the mild temps of Fall in Australia.  Looking back I marvel at our audacity and stupidity.  My husband, being a military brat, grew up around the world.  So moving wasn't new to him.  I moved all over the Northeastern US as a kid so I wasn't a slouch either.  But moving as a kid is VERY different than moving as an adult.  I developed a new found respect for my parents and my in-laws.

Moving is vile.  Moving with kids is horrific.  Moving internationally with kids is beyond words.

In our arrogance Ted and I thought we'd be fine because 1) we've moved before, many times and 2) Australians speak English.  We figured we would just have to learn to drive on the other side of the road and all would be good.  I don't think its possible for us to have been any more wrong.  From learning about subtle,  yet important culture differences to learning to drive on the other side of the road to finding out they are serious about closing stores at 5:00 to constantly being the US representative for every damn thing that happens - "I don't know what George Bush was thinking, that's kinda why we're here" - it was all right there...in our faces every day.  On top of that mountain there was the minor task of raising 3 young children; 2 of which were within a year of being diagnosed with Autism.  Every night I knew, I just knew it was all going to Hell and we weren't going to be able to pull it off.  When it takes 3 months to get a telephone installed you know things aren't looking good for the home team.  My mother had died 4 months before we moved and I was still reeling from grief...no matter how old you are when you're scared, alone and lost you just want your mom.  I still do.  If I sit very quietly and concentrate I can smell her perfume...Emmeraude.

It was a nightmare.  And it was one of our own choosing to add insult to injury.

But then things change.  I made friends with some of the moms at Teddy's school.  I got the girls into a pre-school.  We bought a car and within 6 months I could drive without feeling nauseous.  We were the Yank family - I started feeling like there were things I could do.  Things I could handle.  Connor and Tessi were in their therapies and while I'd be a massive liar if I said it was easy or even not horrible...it was working.  Both my daughters are in a mainstream school. Many people don't even know they are Autistic.  Teddy is doing well and is known as Texas Ted by some, well people who like to annoy him.  We laugh that he's bilingual because he knows the words nappies and diapers and can use Imperial and Metric.

So what I have I learned in 5 years.

1)  People are people no matter where you live.  In a group of 3 people, 2 will talk about the 3rd.  The gaggle of moms at the school is the same everywhere.  Kids are vicious little monsters to each other one minute and then offer unconditional love the second.

2)  Americans have a really bad reputation outside the US.  Some of it deserved, some of it not.  Yes, we have our share of rotten jerks in government and many mistakes have been made.  However racism, bigotry, greed and cowardice were not invented in the US. What has YOUR government done to stop injustice?

3)  The Pacific Ocean is NOT warm.  I freeze my tush off every time I get into the water at the beach.  Seriously, 1000 degrees in the shade and I step in the water and my teeth turn blue.  Insane.

4)  Australians are the BEST at understanding that you work hard and you play hard.  I mean this with the utmost respect.  When they are on holiday work can stick it.  I love that.  Americans really could learn from this ideology.  I bet the number heart attacks would plummet.

5)  They have weird beautiful terrifying and ridiculous insects here.  Seriously.  I thought most of this stuff was made up.  It's not.  See some of my previous posts.

6)  Australians are fiercely independent but have a weird tie to the Crown.  Americans will NEVER understand any reason why a county would allow another country to have say over their government, recognize their holidays or have the Queen on their money.  Australians will never understand the American need to be on it's own and turn it's back on a fundamental part of it's history.  Deal with it.  We're just going to have to agree to disagree.  By the way, I will NOT sign an allegiance to Betsy when I become a citizen in a few years.  The Australian Govt now has another form immigrants can sign because there were so many objections.

7)  The Australians have treated their indigenous population just as horribly as the Americans treated the Native Americans.  There is no restitution strong enough to rectify that fact.  The horrors were just too great.  I think apologies are needed from the governments (Australia has done so) but the indigenous people need to give up thinking that they will get enough repayment to make amends.  Both sides need to move forward.  The future generations deserve peace.

8)  I will never fully understand Cricket.  I swear to God they change the rules just to mess with me.  5-6 hours to play 1/2 the game?  Stopping for tea breaks?  Professional games that can last 5 days and end in a drawl?   Nooooo,  that's weird to me.  I like AFL as it makes more sense to me.  You run, kick the ball and hit people.  That is a sport I can relate to.  Rugby is growing on me.  But to be honest, I miss my Steelers.  Go B&G!!!!!!!!!!!

9) I miss my family in the US and I miss cheap shopping.  Christ Almighty things are expensive here.  But I don't want to live in the US again.  I'm not a True Blue Aussie but I'm not a Yankee Doodle Dandy anymore.  Not sure what that makes me.  Perhaps a little of both?

Happy Anniversary Tencza Family!

Living with the Natives

No this isn't a post about the plight of the Aboriginals nor is about living people at all.  It's about the real natives of Australia: Spiders.

I have a friend in Massachusetts who has a slight phobia problem with spiders so I'm betting she just clicked away.  Sorry Kristin, I know you'll never come visit me.

Anyway no True Blue Aussie morning would be complete without a complete face plant into a huge spider web.  I know my American friends are saying right now, "So what, I've eaten a few spider webs myself"  Not like these and I bet most of our very tall friends are used to walking into them either.  Ted has walked into more spider webs in the last 5 years here than he has his entire life.  I know this because he screams this fact, plus a few unmentionable words every single time he gets one.

This picture is of the new condominium complex a few of our natives have built in our front yard.  See the large water stains on the road?  Nope, those are webs.  You can't see in this picture but the guy on the left has strung his little hammock from the top of the space age lamp post down to the ground, BEHIND the grass you see, down by the white gate.  The space lamp on the right, the one with a white sail next to it?  That's another web.

 Here's another angle.  You can really start to see how complex the little buggers how built things up.
It's easy to be impressed 20 feet back with a zoom lens.

This guy.  Ahh, this guy.  This is the guy that inspired todays post.  I came within a hair's breath of walking head first not only into the web but face first into the spider.  Thank you Monty for jumping out at me from nowhere and taking my feet out from under me so I'd stop to pet you.  I know I swore at you and threatened to "beat your furry ass into the ground" but I take it all back.  Anyway back to Arachnidis Scarious.  If you click on the picture I think you can see how big the web is.  Trust me, once I stopped dry-heaving off the deck and sobbing for my mother I thought it was pretty awesome.

I'm posting this angle because I really wanted to show the levels of webs.  Unfortunately I'm a crap photographer so you still have to use your imagination.  The web reminds me of a 3D chess board.  Many levels, all over the place.  Again, an amazing bit of nature to watch as soon as you get your heart rate back under 150.

I do want to point out that these spiders are the good ones.  They are your garden ones, the ones that kill mozzies-Australian for mosquito.  They do not like humans at all.  The only humans these spiders have killed are the ones like me who bang their heads against brick walls as they run away screaming from them.

Since we're all good friends here I'm sure you decided to be gracious and not notice my overgrown grass and the large overflowing garbage can.  I appreciate that.

I must be starting to get used to SOME of these outdoor pets.  Not once during my screaming, sobbing and whinging rampage over the invading spiders did I say, "I wish I had gone to that cricket game this morning"

So here's to you Mr. Spider Man, you mozzie eating, architect of inadvertent face masks and bouts of screaming and swearing - you still weren't enough to make me pine for cricket.

Cricket is No Longer a Bug

Alright, yes it is bug still but in my mind it's no longer JUST a bug.  Teddy has been selected for his school's Rep Cricket team as the wickie.  Also known as the wicket keeper.  Which is sort of like a catcher.  Sort of.  Today I drove him and his mates to the field so they could play another school.  He has a large kit bag for his stuff and then tonight he has cricket training for his team for the local club.

What the Hell is this nonsense?  MY son plays cricket?  We're Americans for Chrissake!  We play football and baseball and basketball and hit things hard and laugh outrageously loud.  Ted is a massive Minnesota Vikings groupie, I adore my Steelers.  Ted's dad is a Giants worshipper and has even raced stock cars and the latest generation of Tencza dresses in all white to stand around for days and cheering when the bowler ALMOST gets someone out?  Wha??

When we first moved to Australia Teddy tried to play baseball but it was hopeless.  In Year 1 they were still playing t-ball.  Just plain silly.  Plus all of Teddy's friends played cricket so the following year he wanted to try it and was hooked.  So now we go to cricket games and think, "Oh wow, it's a short game today, only 4 hours"

But people go for the day, even days to see these cricket games.  Aussies love their cricket.  The weird rules - you can run if you don't hit the ball, they stop game for tea breaks, and the team captain is supposed to turn in his own teammates for unsportsmanlike like conduct, all of it, they love it.  Even the 2 or 3 Australians who don't like sports know about cricket.  Ask ANYONE about Don Bradman, and you'll be gently reminded that it's SIR Don Bradman. 

So here we are, Americans living in Australia and our oldest child plays cricket.  5 years ago I heard the word I thought of a chirping insect and now I think of an entire day sitting outside watching paint dry.  At least I can bring my iPod.

The day I can watch without getting pissed that he's wearing all white and rolling around in the mud that's when I know I'm Australian.

Interesting Habits of Wildlife in Australia or Why I Now Use Baileys as Cream in My Tea

My morning began as most do in my house.  I opened my eyes and immediately grabbed the precious - my iPhone, and began checking news, weather and of course, Facebook.  I know, I have a slight addiction problem.  I really don't care.  The girls came barging in to rat each other out, cry about having wake up, complain about the global economy....actually not sure about the last one, to be honest I stopped listening about 30 seconds into the melee.  I shooed them out so I could get dressed.  About 15 seconds later Connor came running in, "Mommy, do you know the tall curtains we have downstairs?"  Yes Connor, I've heard of them.  "Well, um, well, there's a mouse on top of them!"  O-kay.  Quite honestly, I was not expecting that.  But then again, I couldn't say it was impossible.

So I throw on my shirt, and head down the steps.  We get halfway down the steps and Connor starts screaming, "See, See, See!!!"  Well, no.  I don't.  I bend down and peer over the railing and look about 15 feet away and damn it all, there it is.  The Australian Hopping Mouse.  It's about the size of an American Field Mouse only it has bigger ears and it hops like a kangaroo.  Only it has a problem.  It's on top of the curtain rod located near the top of our extremely high ceiling.  I think about 14 feet. 

Of course Connor is the one that sees it. I would have come downstairs and missed the little bastard completely.  But not Connor.  Nooooo.  She saw it because there was Monty sitting on the floor staring up at it.  Monty must have brought it in to play with and it got the best of him and ran up the curtains.

Ok.  So now I have a problem. 

1. I have a damn live mouse stuck inside my house.
2. It's waaaaayyy up high and no real way to get to it.
3. Ted has already left for work.
4. Connor is starting to slowly become unglued and turning into Sybil.
5. I have not had any tea

Right.  I called Ted on the train for suggestions.  Captain Genius suggests throwing cat at mouse.  I was actually glad that he then went through a tunnel so it cut off the stream of profanities I vomited at him.  Note to self: come up with alternative meanings for words for Tessi.  So I get Teddy up and ask him if he had any ideas.  Poor kid, he also needed tea and needed a few minutes to figure out his name and what the Hell I was talking about.  He offered to go up the ladder and try and get it.  Now, before the good mothers of the world start crying fowl at me sending my child to face the demon, bite me.  Go ahead, call me names, turn me in.  I don't care.  It was him or me and I chose him.  He offered.  It wasn't coerced.

The next twenty minutes was quite possibly the most calamitous of not only my life but I dare say, most peoples lives. 

I get the ladder and Teddy and I begin the process of unfolding it.  It's one of those 600 different position ladders and the two of us, plus Tessi "helping" we finally get it set up to have Teddy get the mouse.  Teddy starts to climb towards Mickey and then Connor bellows, 'KOOKABURRA!!!!"  I start looking around the living room because I'm sure it's come in too.  But no.  She's pointing out the window.  So Teddy, Tessi and I, like the lemmings we are stop, turn and walk towards the window.  Sure enough, there's a Kookaburra outside.  It takes me a full 20 seconds before I realize, "Jesus, we LIVE here, we see Kookaburras all the time!  We have to get the mouse!!"  Back at the task at hand.

Mice, no matter what continent they are from, do NOT like having strange people try to pick them up.  This mouse started running back and forth along the curtain rod squealing it's head off.  At one point he slipped and fell down a bit onto the upper window sill and Teddy (I helped!! I herded it with a long pole) was able to coax it onto his hand and he started the climb down the ladder to take it outside.  Sadly though, the mouse decided to bite Teddy (no broken skin) and then Teddy yelling, flinging the mouse back onto the curtain and the bastard scurried back up to the top.

I've sent the girls out of the room to damper the sound of the screaming, Monty is running back and forth trying to glare the mouse to death, Sasha starts barking at a neighbor walking down the street and that's when I noticed that Teddy's new Siamese Fighting Fish wasn't moving.  I run over, "Oh Christ, no!!  Don't' be dead!!!!"  Then Teddy comes over, "He's not dead, I taught him to do that"  What?  I look back, the damn fish wiggles 1 fin....twice.  Then stops.  Then the other fin...twice again.  Then he starts moving for real.  What. the. Hell. Never mind, I've got Mickey running around 14 feet above my head.
This is when we learned about the hopping.

The mouse began running along the curtain rods, and then hopped between them.  All four.  Back and forth. Speedy Gonzalez here is racing along the rods and when he gets to the end he hops to the wall, bouncing off onto the next rod.  It was like watching those people in LA who spend time bouncing off of walls to climb up buildings.  He's running and hopping and squealing, did I mention the squealing?

I get the super long broom and head towards the window and that's when I noticed that Damn Dog has peed on the floor.  For the first time in my life, that was not the most horrifying thing in my immediate area.  So I race to the window, Teddy has repositioned the ladder, has climbed up, catch reach so I put the broom by the mouse just to stop him from running.  Speedy smacks into the broom, falls off onto my sewing machine and stops cold.  I fling open the sliding doors and put on my best Dave Winfield stance and swing for the cheap seats.  I moved him 2 feet but at least he's by the door.  Teddy pops him outside and chases him out into the bush.

Connor comes out of hiding, "Yea!! We got the mouse!"

I looked at her, didn't say a word and went into the kitchen and poured my tea.

I'll admit it.  After I took the kids to school I went to the shops and bought champers and a tub of chocolate frosting.  Judge all you want.  I'll be sitting in the corner and blinking a lot.