I want a Motorcycle

A vespa or a harley.

Anyway, besides that...

I Hate Spiders. They terrify the fuck out of me. I usually instantly go into fight or flight. Usually the bigger the more flighty. Unless someone else I care about is there like Owen then I freak out into full on panic mode.

In this case I killed the big wolf spider with a nearly full 1-gallon bleach bottle in two tries. Then turned on all the lights in the house and camped out in my kitchen until Cory got home and I hugged him to death because I am terrified as shit of spiders.

I am also terrified of things that are poisonous. And knowing my luck somehow I would be alergic to the venom of a traditionally non-poisonous one. And I am too afraid of spiders to look it all up and figure out which ones I should run away from. Because I am squeemish at pictures.

...

Anyway, good news is I get to attempt to draw a tattoo for someone. Let me hope I do not totally epic fail at this or else I will make sad face.

I need a Job >_>

But I need a trustworthy babysitter to do it.

I love my mom. I trust her. I don't want Owen around my dad for some damn good reasons.

I love my mom-in-law, but she doesn't take enough care about which room she smokes in. Just because she isn't holding him and smoking at the same time doesn't mean he isn't going to breath in the second hand smoke.

Seriously, I highly doubt my cats are the cause of his coughing. Thank you. >_>

So basically the people I can trust to follow my rules and not throw a tantrum or a fit if I ask them nicely to change how they are doing something because of how I would like Owen to be treated live FAR away. Or at least an inconvenient distance away from me where it wouldn't be kind to them to have them drive all the way here to watch him.

And I am really picky about who I want watching Owen. I like, do my own assessment and background check on them in my head. I need to KNOW them, short from dating them. Like if they have quirks, I need to make sure that it won't effect them watching my son.

Call me paranoid, but I have tons of fears and he is my little baby boy. I want him to have a good environment and I don't want him to grow up with serious emotional baggage. I have seen children who are WAY too young that deal with that. It isn't fair for them.

*takes deep breath*

So I am working off my stress in a manageable way as long as Owen and body do not freak out on me. (Behave knees, we aren't popping out of place today) I am going to clean. At least so as much as I can to make a vast improvement. But for the love of gods if someone makes even a tiny comment and makes me feel like I did nothing, I will use their head as a mop for my floor.