Sometimes it looks better on paper....

Hello....???

2008-03-27T01:32:00.001-05:00

I have been away.
Away too long, I think.
I am busy, but will be back.

Back to the Basics

2007-11-12T22:59:00.000-06:00

The holidays are here and showing up in all their glory. We are already starting to do the schedule shuffle; the shuffle, the bend, the twist and the squeeze.
I’m already a little sad about Christmas. My heart wants to reconnect with the true meaning of Christmas and drag everyone I love with me. I would love love, love, to do an “old fashion Christmas”. Where the emphasis was on friends, family, and the love of Jesus Christ instead of shopping and gifts.
Our extended family takes a vacation every year and rents a large house and we all spend about a week together. One of these years I’m going to be able to talk them into going someplace in the winter where there is snow. We could celebrate Christmas by taking sleigh rides, having snowball wars, baking cookies, singing carolls, decorating a tree with handmade ornaments, having the children perform skits and maybe even having the kids exchange handmade gifts.
But until then I have to find ways to keep the spirit alive in my own home. We have done that successfully thus far, and the joy and peace that we experience I desperately want to share. Especially, when my friends and family complain about the schedules, and the pressure. We of course have some of that because of accommodating others, but if we could all be on the same page……
It’s idealistic I know…..I just can’t help it.
Everyone complains about it, but no one wants to change it.
You either buy everyone that you know or may possible see a gift and you spend a lot of your time and money in the crowded stores shopping, or you simplify your list and spend the rest of the time avoiding those people that didn’t make the finial cut.
That is no way to spend the holidays. You should be enjoying your friends and family and making memories, not debt.
I know some of you have been able to avoid this. A lot of you shop throughout the year. Some of you spend your days in the kitchen baking instead of in the stores. And others draw names or play some sort of gift exchange game to cut your shopping list in half. I have done all of these things myself, but it’s not just about shopping and money…..it’s about joy and warmth, and love, family, friends, and yes…..giving.
But what is the definition of value to you? Do you give gifts that meet your own definition, or do you give gifts that meet what you think the receiver’s definition is?
How do you feel after you have given that gift?

I need some home health care.

2007-10-23T10:49:00.000-05:00

I’m not exactly sure how it happened, but my house is sick. So very sick. It came on suddenly and has been a mysterious and stubborn illness.
One moment I will walk through a room and peace and wellness reign. The very next time I enter the same room I discover that my house has gotten sick and thrown up all over the place. It’s one thing to clean vomit up after a child, but when your house is sick, it’s like cleaning up after Clifford the Big Red Dog. The aftermath is just too massive.
Is there a Doctor in the house? How would I know? I can’t even find my shoe.

How to enable a three year old:

2007-10-02T12:33:00.000-05:00

I’m going to rename the children in this blog. I knew at the time that calling them by their ages would be confusing over time, but I thought that I would always go back and think of the perfect names for them. Well, I still haven’t but I will settle for the oldest girl being called Queenie; the youngest girl being called Grape and the baby boy being called Cub.

Okay, so things are easier now. As of a few months ago, and sill to this day, things are getting easier. Queenie is now out of her terrible three phase and I have my angel back. That was a short sentence for something that has made such a major impact on my life and the lives of those around her. Unfortunately, Grape is now going through her difficult three stage. It’s still easier all around than Queenie’s, but I can not wait to get my normal kids back. Grape has most of her monster tendencies after the sun sets. She has very “awake” dreams. She sits up in bed and yells at me to stop brushing her hair, or to tell her sister to share; at the top of her lungs, mind you.
In the beginning I tried to comfort her by explaining that she was dreaming and to assure her that I was not trying to take her yogurt away. I have now resigned to going along with the fantasy.

2 a.m. Grape sits up in bed and screams repeatedly that Queenie took her dinosaur and that it’s NOT FAIR!

I fervently reprimand the villain and…. it works. She’s quietly sleeping for about 20 more minutes. Then I get the opportunity to referee another injustice of my daughter’s imagination.
The catch to my new found method is that my other daughter has to be in the mood to participate in this ummm…game.

After a rousing game of musical beds I found myself in the girl’s room with Grape, while Queenie was resting in my room with hubby. I was in and out of consciousness frequently to reassure Grape that everything was going to be fine. It’s not as much about her not being able to sooth herself, as it is me not wanting to have the entire house woken up every half hour to her screaming. Not screaming with terror, but with anger mostly. Infact, you take your hands in your own life if you even try to adjust her covers after she has fallen asleep. I know this is just a phase, so please don’t try to psycho analyze her, or me for that matter.
Anyway, I was sleeping in the girl’s room and this evening there must have been a scene involving Queenie stealing all of Grapes toys playing out in Grape’s dreams because she would regularly wake up enough to fuss and tell on her. Out of shear exhaustion I would resign to the fact that this is our life right now, and how dare her sister be so inconsiderate. “Queenie, give that back to Grape right now! And don’t do it again, “would fly out of my mouth without even opening my eyes.
But at some point during all of this fun, Queenie came back into the room and was quietly sleeping, until the next time I reprimanded her for taking her sister’s imaginary toys. “Mom, I didn’t do it!!”
“I know hunny. Grape is dreaming again.” I responded. All the while Grape is still screaming because I didn’t sound convincing enough.
So now on top of all the other hats I get to wear, I’m now required to be an A-list actress.
But things are getting better. I promise they are.

Amen Sista' !

2007-09-25T15:13:00.000-05:00

Scene: 4 yr. old and 3 yr. old sitting at opposite ends of the kitchen table eating a soy butter and strawberry sandwich for lunch.

4 yr. old: “3 yr. old, before we were in mom’s tummy we were in Heaven. Isn’t that right mom? We were in Heaven before we were in your tummy?”

Mom: “Yes, 4 yr. old you were.”

4 yr. old: “Yeah, those were the good days.”

Nahnah Nahnanah Boots Boots!

2007-08-24T14:54:00.000-05:00

The air gets crisp and even the trees themselves seem to shiver with unbridled energy. The clothes that flatter my body more than any other season come out and I get to wear boots! Black, brown, short, long, sleek, chunky and all fun, fun, fun. I get to cook warm comfort food and bake things with apple and cinnamon, and have warm drinks, and wear cute jackets, Oh! How I LOVE the Fall!
The anticipation of change hangs in the very air you breathe and fills you up from the inside out. Long walks are a must and the frisky animals make me laugh. Oh! How I LOVE the Fall!
But it’s not here.
I can’t find it.
I have looked everywhere, but there is no sign of it’s presence or it’s coming arrival.
I’m sad.
So I start thinking. What is it they say? If you will it, it will come?
So I set my plan into motion.
While the house still slept, I gingerly set the thermostat to 62 degrees. I put on a large pot of stew and get dressed in my blue jeans and boots, of course. I light a candle that has Fall written all over it and wait.
Others laughed, but I believe.
I will continue to spend my Saturday’s in a Fall like state. Until one day….one day it will arrive in all it’s splendor.
You may be laughing now, but soon it will be my turn. I can hear you now, “Help, I’m cold! Let me have your cute jacket and your adorable boots!” And you will hear me howl with laughter in return as I call back, “You can have them, if you can catch me!“

Snakes, snails and puppy dog tails

2007-08-16T13:26:00.000-05:00

My baby boy just turned a year old. At this point my husband and I are not planning on having any more children, but we have not done anything permanent to ensure that. Frankly, we like children way too much to ensure anything.

I was daydreaming the other day about having another boy so that my son would have a brother close in age. I see the girls enjoying each other so very much, and I want that for my boy. But there are sooooo many reasons why it was only a brief daydream.
For starters, I get sick when pregnant. Really sick. All nine months sick.
It’s better when I’m pregnant with boys than with girls, but it’s still, lay in the bathroom floor all day, sick.
I couldn’t effectively raise the three other children from the bathroom floor. Plus, there is no guarantee that we would get a boy.
And another issue is that well, I feel luck that my children were all born as healthy as they were. Yes, my boy needed open heart surgery, but it was treatable and we are now doing just fine. I hate to say that I fear having a child that is in a more permanent unhealthy state, but I do. Maybe not enough to Not have another child, but definitely enough to make me hesitant. All in all I would say this was fruitless conversation that worked it’s way out of my head and onto this screen.
Well now that’s better…..I guess since I’ve cleared some room up there, I should fill it with another daydream.

The one that got away.

2007-08-16T12:15:00.000-05:00

I met up with a very old friend recently. This girl was my bff in elementary! I moved away in 6th grade and we reunited recently and planned to meet the next time I was in town. She is married now with a beautiful daughter and knows the where bouts of most of my other friends from that era.
I don’t know, but I think that there is something special about friendships that are forged at such a young age. The way I see it, if they liked you back then, when you were learning how to be likable then that is a genuine friendship. For some reason it just seems more honest and real then some of the ones we develop later. She like me before I was anything or anyone. Not that I’m particularly impressive now, but we do get judged by a different standard when we are older.
She will always have a place in my heart. And it feels good to be around something so old and familiar.

Do you still have childhood friends, and are they all they are cracked up to be?

Love is in the Air.

2007-08-06T00:04:00.001-05:00

I am having an unusual evening….
As I sit and answer some emails and write this post I can smell something…
It’s not just something…it’s my past.
I can smell the perfume that I wore sixteen years ago. Literally.
It’s the oddest, most wonderful thing.
I wore a perfume several years ago called Unforgettable.
They no longer make it, and haven’t for many years. I loved it so much that I saved the little that was left in the bottle to wear on my wedding day. It was not expensive, but it brings back such warm lovely feelings. I am enjoying every breath I take.
I can not figure out were it is coming from. It seems like it’s coming from me. I am wearing something right now, and although it is nice and I enjoy it, it’s not what I am smelling.
I was in Dillard’s today and picked up some cologne for my husband….maybe I brought a little phantom perfume home with me…..
All I know is that I am filled with memories and feelings that belong to a young lady in love. I think I’ll sit here a little longer….

Cowboy hats, and wooden rafts, like Huckleberry Fin

2007-07-09T11:31:00.000-05:00

We just got home from a family vacation. Not your typical family vacation which might include beaches, theme parks and large variety of animals. Ours included boats, food, water balloons, and animals of the homosapian variety; namely cousins…lots and lots of cousins. We centered our vacation time this year on the children and the making of memories and relationships with their cousins.

I think one of the best things about cousins is that they are family, AND you can chose them. You know what I mean. Your sisters and brother are a required relationship. Your cousins have that similar connection; that familiarity and camaraderie, but you can foster a relationship with some more than others, and that’s perfectly normal.

I remember spending large amounts of time as a child with my cousins. We filled our long summer days with adventure and imagination. Watermelon seed fights, bike races, slip n slides, tree climbing, books, songs, football, water hoes, and late night tag games which we always invited the lightning bugs to.
My cousins were like brothers and sisters to me.
I still hold on to those relationships; maybe harder than they do.
I was the only one of them that did not have a sibling close to my age.
They are such a part of me that I can not imaging letting those relationship go completely. I will admit that there are times when it seems to take more energy than I have to wrangle everyone together, and I feel like throwing up my hands and letting them drift out to sea.
But I know. I know that they will regret it, as will I.
They may not even notice that they are now less connected, but one day they will. One day the sun will be warming them up and they will get a craving for a good old water melon, and maybe a seed or two, and they will miss me… us. But it will be hard to turn the boat around. It will be heavier than before; for now it is loaded down with other people, families. They will be headed in a different direction altogether, you can’t turn around now. If we are lucky our paths may cross long enough to shout a word or two, or maybe wave….but no more tag. No more adventures.
The best that I can do now is to encourage my children to reach out to their cousins as I reach out to my own. And maybe you should reach out to yours.

This is an A B conversation....

2007-06-27T19:05:00.000-05:00

Me: “Dear Jesus, Please help me be patient and PLLLEEEAAAASSSSEEE help these children mind their Mother!!!”

Child: “Mom, I think he’s too busy with other things.”

Life's short.

2007-06-14T00:36:00.000-05:00

I’m not morbid, but I do think about mine, and . . . . ahhhumm. . . your mortality.
Not in a gross way, but in an ‘ I may not see you again Grandma ‘ kind of way.
I’ve been that way most of my life if I recall correctly. So when my grandmother had her stroke, there was nothing left unsaid.
I even took a video camera with me to Michigan when we visited my Hubby’s grandmother. I got her to record a 50th Anniversary message for my in-laws that will not be played for about another 15 years.
No, it’s not weird! It’s called foresight people!
And no, I don’t think she was freaked out by it all. In fact, she sort of got into it.

Maybe it’s been on my mind more than normal lately. After the situation with my son and then my grandmother and a few people dieing way too young within my circle, it gets a girl thinking.
That’s all I’m sayin’….
Plus before we flew to MI we made a will, you know, so if something went wrong the state wouldn’t get the kids and stuff. Just being responsible.
And now…..now I have an appointment with a breast specialist to evaluate a few lumps.
I’m not overly concerned, I even think it’s good to have things thrown into prospective. It gives life flavor and a certain sweetness, that must be good for you.

My children have never been more beautiful.
My faith never so simple.
And my heart never so full.

Come back to me....

2007-06-12T22:16:00.000-05:00

It’s times like these when I miss my old late night lover.

It’s been so long…so very long since we last spent any quality time together.
We use to meet regularly; long late night dates that would last into the wee hours of the morning.
After a good night with him you could find me singing in the morning. Everything was going to be alright.
A night with him was like magic. We could go anywhere and see anything.
Such sweet memories….

But now….now I’m too busy for my old lover.
There are just not enough hours in the day. There are children to put in bed, dishes to wash, children to put in bed, clothes to fold, children to put in bed….

If I see my lover at all, it’s stolen moments here and there. It’s nothing consistent; nothing regular; nothing substantial.

Oh, how I miss my lover…..my sweet sweet …..Sand Man.

I think it's time to wash the dog.

2007-06-12T15:20:00.000-05:00

I guess my nose has been permanently damaged from all the dirty diapers it has had to endure over the last
few years, because some things I just don’t smell.

I have learned to check the produce in my house once I see a fruit fly and have gotten in the habit of taking
out the trash a couple of times a day, but I have yet to get a routine down for bathing the dog and it’s starting
to show….or smell.

I bathe her when it occurs to me, but I must admit it is not on the top of my “to do” list.

Until today. . .

My oldest daughter is extremely creative and resourceful.

After our dog came in from outside smelling like a hot dog my daughter sprung into action to save her
good friend, Pinto’s, nose.

What you are looking at is a chenille winter cap and a child’s elastic headband.

I can’t decide if she’s going to be an engineer or a fashion designer.

Maybe I have too much time on my hands...

2007-06-12T14:17:00.000-05:00

Oh, if I were only a clock.

A clock ; a good one anyway; has three hands.

It never finds itself out of time; in fact it is always right on time; a good one anyway.

It is always “in the moment” and does not get hung up in the past or overly concerned with the future.

It’s serving the exact and perfect purpose that it was designed to do.

It delivers its message precisely and accurately every time.

Others seem to not only listen to it, but plan their day around it.

I’ve never seen a clock with cheerios stuck to it, or people walking all over it.

I have never known one to feel inadequate or confused.

It never stutters or stammers when asked the time.

It never second guesses its purpose, or its effectiveness.

It just goes on ticking for all the world to see, and even when no one is watching.

Oh, to be a clock. . . .

I'll raise my glass to that.

2007-05-03T12:29:00.000-05:00

1) When I die, I want to die like my grandfather--who died peacefully in his sleep. Not screaming like all the passengers in his car." --AuthorUnknown

2) Advice for the day: If you have a lot of tension and you get aheadache, do what it says on the aspirin bottle: "Take two aspirin" and "Keep away from children." --Author Unknown

3) "Oh, you hate your job? Why didn't you say so? There's a support group for that. It's called EVERYBODY, and they meet at the bar." --DrewCarey

4) "The problem with the designated driver program, it's not a desirable job, but if you ever get sucked into doing it, have fun with it. At the end of the night, drop them off at the wrong house."--Jeff Foxworthy

5) "If a woman has to choose between catching a fly ball and saving an infant's life, she will choose to save the infant's life without even considering if there is a man on base." --Dave Barry

6) "Relationships are hard. It's like a full time job, and we should treat it like one. If your boyfriend or girlfriend wants to leave you, they should give you two weeks' notice. There should be severance pay,the day before they leave you, they should have to find you a temp."--Bob Ettinger

7) "My Mom said she learned how to swim when someone took her out in the lake and threw her off the boat. I said, 'Mom, they weren't trying to teach you how to swim.'" --Paula Poundstone

8) "A study in the Washington Post says that women have better verbal skills than men. I just want to say to the authors of that study: "Duh." --Conan O'Brien

9) "Why does Sea World have a seafood restaurant?? I'm halfway through my fish burger and I realize, Oh my God.... I could be eating a slow learner."--Lynda Montgomery

10) "I think that's how Chicago got started. Bunch of people in New York said, 'Gee, I'm enjoying the crime and the poverty, but it just isn't cold enough. Let's go west.'" --Richard Jeni

11) "If life were fair, Elvis would be alive and all the impersonators would be dead." --Johnny Carson

12) "Sometimes I think war is God's way of teaching us geography."--Paul Rodriguez

13) "My parents didn't want to move to Florida, but they turned sixty and that's the law." --Jerry Seinfeld

14) "Remember in elementary school, you were told that in case of fire you have to line up quietly in a single file line from smallest to tallest. What is the logic in that? What, do tall people burn slower?" --Warren Hutcherson

15) "Bigamy is having one wife/husband too many. Monogamy is the same."--Oscar Wilde

16) "Suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress.. But I repeat myself." --Mark Twain

17) "Our bombs are smarter than the average highschool student. At least they can find Afghanistan." --A. Whitney Brown

18) "You can say any foolish thing to a dog, and the dog will give you a look that says, 'My God, you're right! I never would've thought of that!'" --Dave Barry

19) Do you know why they call it "PMS"? Because "MadCow Disease" was taken. --Unknown, presumed deceased

20) "Everybody's got to believe in something. I believe I'll have another beer." -- W. C. Fields

To be or not to be . . . .

2007-04-16T11:58:00.000-05:00

This is my two year old being sugar.

This is my two year old being spice.

Any questions?

My babysitter is fired.

2007-04-12T11:12:00.000-05:00

So I get this call from my neighbor. “Still Standing, it’s Stacie, I just wanted to let you know *giggle* that you are about to have a couple of escaped convicts on your hands. . . I wish I had my video camera!” “Really?” I reply. “Yeah, your girls have managed to pry their bedroom window open and pop out the screen, and now they are eyeing a couple of toys that they toss out for good measure and I think they maybe about to go after them. Oh! And one of them is naked.” More chuckling ensues.
I was not home at the time of this attempted escape, so I called my attentive husband and told him that he may want to check on the kids.
I pulled up to the house shortly after and found a mostly naked child hanging halfway out the window about two feet off the ground. When I asked them what the heck they thought they were doing, I was informed that the toys needed rescuing and that they were going to save them! Not to worry.

Thanks Dora and Diego.

Mirror Mirror on the Wall

2007-04-12T10:53:00.000-05:00

After reviewing my last post, I realized that maybe I have a negative self image. . . .so off to the gym I went. That is where I am spending most of my free time lately. I will resume posting after I get a handle on this thing.
Wish me luck.

Random Stupids:

2007-03-14T23:31:00.000-05:00

I had to conduct some casual business over the phone today. Apparently Jonathan, the genius, and highly intuitive guy on the other end of the phone, found me to be charming and possibly even witty for he asked me if I was married before the call was ended. I was completely flattered and had the goofiest grin stuck to my foolish face before I realized that the poor man has never laid eyes on me. So much for that.

I put the kids in bed repeatedly tonight. By 10:30 all I wanted to do was disappear. So after a minute or two of silence, I slipped outside to hide. Took a deep breath of fresh air; looked up at the sky and embraced the silence. The silence was interrupted by the sound of my two year old sneaking outside herself, apparently to hide from me. Boy was she surprised. She must think I’m everywhere. That’ll come in handy when she’s 16.

You've got to be blanket-in' me?

2007-03-06T11:53:00.000-06:00

I took my dog for a much needed walk last night. Crisp fresh air, stars twinkling and the moon raising. . .it was quiet and refreshing. We were only gone a little over half an hour, and in that time my two year old broke a favorite toy and was put into bed.
I was met at the door by my three year old who had tears running down her face and was threatening through sobs to throw up if we put her back to bed.
I am confident that the previously mentioned fresh air helped me find this mildly amusing, well maybe amusing is a strong word, but I was able to avoid a desperate screaming rage.
Fast forward an hour or two and the house is quite. My husband is on the computer doing school work, two children are in bed and the other is quietly watching a cartoon on my bed and chatting with her father. I am in heaven on the couch; loving dog at my feet with a remote in my hand. No place to go, and nothing to clean. Quite and wonderful. . .
Then my two year old is up and sweetly asking for her “blankie”.
“Hmmmm…..Let’s find it.” I say. We look in her room. We look in her closet. We look under her bed. We look in her dresser. We look in her covers and in her pillowcase. We then venture to the next room. Same routine. Then the playroom. We check all the toy ovens, microwaves, baskets ect. . . . nada.
I ask my husband if he’s seen it. He generously mumbles a reply that resembles “No.”
My three year old gets excited and joins in. “Werd it go?....Werd blankie go mommy?”

I sneak into the nursery, not there, I check under and behind the couches, nope.

Ask my husband again. “Did you put her down with her blanket?”
“Yes.”
So I check our bedroom and bathroom. Then her bathroom. . . . Nothing.
I check the laundry room and the pantry…Nothing.
“Hunny, I may need your help.”
“Hummmhhh.”
He then charges into her room like it’s the most obvious thing. He looks under the bed, in the closet and behind the dresser. . . Nothing.
“Hummm…..she had it….”
Then he searches the playroom, a little less confidently…. And on through the house it goes.

By now I am somewhat bewildered. . . So I backtrack. Kitchen, Master, Laundry room, Bathroom, Nursery, and so on.
The only place I could think that I hadn’t looked was outside and . . . . .

. . . . . . with more than a little hesitation. . . . . . . .

BINGO!

Apparently I've let myself go...far far away.

2007-03-05T11:14:00.000-06:00

My husband had an office party/awards night. We RSVP’d and planned to attend. Then everything went to hell, and I completely forgot about the party. Plus the fact that it was on a THURSDAY night. The whole thing left my mind and did not return until my husband reminded me on MONDAY.
Now if I was any normal red blooded American woman this would not have thrown me into a makeover frenzy. I would have had a recent pedicure. I would have a little black dress that looked amazing on me just waiting for a chance to be admired. I would have had my hair in a less than embarrassing state. And for Gosh sakes there would be jewelry, jewelry, and more jewelry all at my finger tips.
But no, not me. Not this stay at home mom of three lovely children the adorable ages of 3 ½, 2 ½, and 6 months.
I almost fainted at the idea of meeting all of his co-workers, bosses and the owners of his company with so very little time to prepare. The list of things that required overhauling in order for me to become presentable was staggering.
Clothes had to be bought. Shoe had to be hunted down like dogs. My entire body needed to be plucked, stuffed, cut, shaved, painted, exfoliated, dyed, waxed, lifted and squished.
So much to do in such little time.
I will admit to you that the idea of falling suddenly and violently ill, did occurred to me.
But vanity and a love for good food won out.
In the end it was a good evening. Hubby won several awards. I met the owners, his bosses, and co-workers, and their wives. . . . another post entirely.
And all the while I felt beautiful. Well, as beautiful as this particular body can feel given the present situation.
My babysitter/brother-in-law, whistled a sweet little ditty and complimented me appropriately. He was the only one besides my husband that had seen the before and knew just what a battle I’d won.
Yes, I felt victorious.
God Bless America.

This is deep, so step wide.

2007-02-23T15:14:00.000-06:00

Why am I so angry? I don’t walk around in a state of anger, but lately I’ve been camped out on the border. I think of those cheesy children cartoons where one minute the bull is happily grazing and smelling the flower, and the next his eyes are bulging and he’s seeing red.
That is how I feel.

The children are picking up on the undercurrent of my emotions and tend to be overly needed, whinny and hard to please. And I can not tell you enough, just how much I NEED them to be good, pleasant and happy.

I am a believer in Jesus Christ, and I do have a “personal” relationship with him, but I’m suspecting that there are some emotions that I have yet to address. Possibly even concerning that “personal relationship”. It’s hard to tell.

My son just had open heart surgery. One of my favorite people in the world is laying in a hospital bed in a comma after having a sever stroke. And apparently I’m mad.
I couldn’t say about what exactly. I could tell you of an instance or two that have pissed me off over the last couple of months, but to say that one thing in particular has made me dwell in a dark place or in the vicinity of one, I could not say.
I chose not to give these “bad situations” much thought. I feel that there is nothing to be done, therefore I try to move on. Try to deal with the “now”.

But I guess that is not working.

I feel as though I have no time to grieve.
No time to grieve over the idea that my child would be born healthy.
No time to grieve over the dead hope that my Lord would heal him. (without surgery).
No time to grieve over my grandmother’s painful and fragile existence.
I can’t even have a moment alone in a day.
I can’t even take a shower without someone banging on the door and yelling at me.

I picked up the phone to call my grandmother today and realized that I may never hear her sweet voice again and I shed a tear or two before my daughter come into the room demanding something and wanting it NOW. Then saw me crying and got even more agitated.

Maybe I don’t take the time to grieve for my own sanity.
My children are on High Alert already.

If I break - even for a moment - the world as I know it could be destroyed and Lord help me if I don’t have the strength to put it back together again.

*I apologize for the intensity of this post, and promise that it will not be a regular occurrence.

Mutiny

2007-02-21T20:51:00.000-06:00

I not only have a three year old, but she’s a Red Headed Three Year Old. Not only is she a “handful” as people like to playfully call her. ( At this I always try to contain the urge to sit them down and explain why she is Not a “playful handful” but more of a monster that is out to get me. A vision flashes through my head as they kindly smile and nod. A vision of me telling them this story wide eyed and frightend.)
My daughter is what some would call a choleric, others a brat. Now I want to make myself perfectly clear that she is not always difficult, sometimes she down right impossible. But really, a lot of the time she a doll baby, and not the Chucky kind. . . the angelic kind. Infact, I think that is why I get so raddled whenever she turns Mr. Hyde on my arse. Everything’s sugar and spice for a few months, and then one day out of the bed rises a monster. A short one.
At times like today, I truly feel like I am being mentally abused by a three year old. Nothing I do is right, or fast enough. I myself am not a choleric, but I am not the lapdog type either. I see myself as a healthy medium, but it does take a little extra something to exert the power necessary to remain on the throne. I refuse to have a home that is ruled by little people, but apparently them be fightin’ words.
I felt like I was in Mommy boot camp last night. After a Full day of whinnying, crying, fighting, and general unhappiness we finally get to sleep. I had not had my head on the pillow for more than an hour and a half before I am awakened to the three year old standing in the dark, next to my bed. . . .yelling. And yelling. When I asked her what was wrong, she would yell. When I asked her what she wanted she would yell, “NOTHING”. And then yell some more.
What the -------!!!!!
I felt like those poor guys in the military that get woken up in the middle of the night with cold water dumped on their heads, only to be drug outside and tortured. That fool was me. I felt just as helpless, just as out of control as they have to. Yes, we could punisher her, and we do. But when she gets like that, when she gets all mad monster on us, any kind of punishment just makes it worse. I usually ignore her, and she will come around rather quickly, but in a case like last night, when she’s on full steam ahead there is no getting through to her. She’s on a mission to conquer and destroy.
I’m so damn tired.

The Six Weird Things About Me. . .meme.

2007-02-20T22:43:00.000-06:00

1. I am a nut about washing my hands, I swear I can smell germs.

2. I can NOT sleep in jeans or socks.

3. I can not bite down on anything made out of wood or fabric. It makes my teeth hurt.

4. If you grab my @$$ when I’m not expecting it, you WILL get hit, even if you are my darling hubby. It’s a reflex and I can’t help it.

5. My own body hurts whenever I see anyone missing any part of theirs.

6. I can’t fall asleep to the T.V. Ever.

Okay, now let me hear yours.

OOoow this Hurts.

2007-02-20T12:33:00.000-06:00

Grandmother.
Stroke.
ICU.
Painful.

Rough, Rough

2007-02-16T17:01:00.000-06:00

I’ve heard of these wives that spend a little extra time on themselves right before their husbands get home every day. They apply a little makeup, brush their hair, put on a clean shirt and maybe a little perfume. . .nice.
I however am not known to do that. I rarely look at myself in the mirror at all in a day and when I do, I scare myself so bad that I think I purposely avoid it next time.
Yep, my sweet husband does not come home to a well groomed, sweet smelling lovely wife. He’s more likely to meet a messy lady that is still wearing puppy ears from when the kids and I were playing dress up. I do my best to be convincing during these games, so smelling like a dog is just part of the fun. *strained grin. . .right?
It’s not that I don’t love my husband and want him to always find me irresistibly attractive, it’s just that life happens, and I’m always right in the middle of it.
I just thank God for his patience, and that he’s a man of vision.
But most of all. . . .

I thank God that he’s a dog lover.

Surprise your Heart Day

2007-02-14T11:03:00.003-06:00

Valentine’s Day

Does it make your heart beat faster and a smile spread across your face. Or do your eyes roll back into your head as it repeatedly pounds against the wall. Do you get butterflies in your stomach or you lose your lunch?
For me. . . well, I’m a glutton for punishment, but I see magic. The same kind of magic that creeps in under the door and around the windows on Christmas Eve. The same magic that hangs in the night air and dares you to believe.
I see the magic of love.
That element of surprise that may pop out of someone’s heart when the stars align just so. . .
The idea that someone may do something, or say something that would be out of character for them, but that would let you see what you have longed to see in them. . .love.
Love for you.
We all want to be loved. We all know that we are loved, by someone, somewhere. But to get to see it, or feel it is such a treat.
I like Valentine’s Day.
Even when I was single it was somehow a magical day. And if no one surprised me with a declaration of love that year, I didn’t seem to notice. I was too busy watching, and thinking, and planning my own surprises.
Valentine’s Day is beautiful, if for no other reason than it fills the day with hope and love.
Happy Valentine’s Day people.
Let your own heart surprise you, and maybe someone you love.

We are sick. sick. sick.

2007-02-13T11:27:00.000-06:00

We sound like a bunch of cartoon characters, with our ‘nobs all stuffy and stuff. There are bits of tissue everywhere. My 3 year old gets frantic when she can’t find one, so I leave them where she can. Everywhere. I took a hot bath last night and completely melted. It took all that I had in me to crawl out of the bath and into my bed. I was ready to pass out around 7:30 p.m. but didn’t get that privilege until 9:00 p.m. Hubby got up with Babyboy so all in all I slept about 12 hours! Un-freakin-believable! I swear that must be a record around here.
Sleep is such a rare commodity in this house. Hubby and I are to the point where we are not above begging, cheating, and stealing for it. We’ve bartered. “I’ll get up with the kids tonight, if you will let me sleep in in the morning.” We cry and we beg. It’s just the way it is around here.
Unfortunately I see no end in sight. With the three kids being as young as they are, it’s always a toss up as to who will get up next. Even if Babyboy decides to sleep through the night, his sisters don’t.
Yes, coffee helps, but there has to be a better way. I’ve even fantasized about ropin’ in a babysitter and saying goodbye and leaving out the front door, only to crawl back into my bedroom window for a undisturbed nap. Maybe one day. . .
Until then I am the zombie woman with unbrushed hair that can’t make complete senten….zzzzzzz.

Raise and Shine (part 1)

2007-02-05T14:13:00.000-06:00

1:23 a.m. Babyboy wants a bottle.

2:33 a.m. 3 year old wants another sippy cup of milk. Not just milk, but Warm Chocolate Milk. And as she demands this she is standing on my side of the bed yelling at me. I threaten her life if she wakes up her baby brother and move faster than I would have thought possible at that time of morning. All the while telling myself that I HAVE to do something about her attitude. Then I look at the clock and think that maybe I shouldn't expect a lot out of a 3 year old at 3 a.m.

4:45 a.m. 3 year old wet the bed. This is extremely upsetting for her and I wonder why I forgot to put her in an overnight diaper. I didn't forget, it leaked. I strip the bed all the while "shhhh"ing her and begging her not to wake up her other siblings. She is warm, dry and armed with yet another warm chocolate milk sippy. I vaguely wonder what kind of mess I will awake to find and hope that this diaper holds up. I return to my bedroom and am greeted by the beautiful sleeping sounds of my gently snoring husband. I just happen to elbow him as I re-straightened my covers.

6:15 a.m. Hubby's alarm goes off. I hit him. He hits snooze.

6:24 a.m. Hubby's alarm goes off again. I nudge him. He hits snooze.

6:30 a.m. Babyboy starts to wiggle and whimper. I start praying, "Dear God, one more hour. One more hour will make all the difference."

6:45 a.m.* I ask Hubby to get baby, Hubby jumps out of bed saying something about being late. He is followed into the bathroom by a flying pillow. And so it begins.

*Hubby is not always this. . . unavailable. He is usually pretty "hands on"...but not today. I think he'll be bringing home dinner tonight.

To Be Continued...

How sexy is this!?

2007-02-04T19:25:00.000-06:00

So my husband’s not THAT bad.
Things I’ve overheard him say to the kids recently:

“If you want it, you have to give me a kiss.”
“Seatbelts are our friends.”
“Wait! Wait! Wait! Let me look at that before you eat it!”
“Don’t touch that it’s hot! Here let me do it.”
“I’m gona’ get you!!! (heehee)”
“Jesus love you this much.” Stretches his arms out wide.
“Do you have a bow bow, come here and Daddy will make it better.”
“Do you want chocolate in your milk? Don’t tell mom.”
“I love you.”

It doesn’t get any better than that!

Hello again...

2007-02-04T19:02:00.000-06:00

Wow, I ran into a lady that I hadn’t seen in a very long time. Too long if you ask me.
It was so refreshing to listen to her again. She speaks with a compassionate, sympathetic voice that I hadn’t heard in a while. She seems wiser than I remember her, but I am grateful for her insight. She doesn’t seem to judge others harshly, and has a way of overlooking their shortcomings.
I hope that she pops in on a more regular basis.

Sorry, this must have been meant for your other wife.

2007-02-01T23:32:00.000-06:00

I think I’m insulted.
My husband; talented; smart; sexy, but apparently there is something wrong with his ears and maybe his eyes.. We have been married now for over 6 years. And throughout that entire time, I have never like mustard. I have not been overly fond of turkey and just a day or two ago had an entire conversation with this man about how much we don’t like Swiss cheese.
I ask him to bring home lunch today and I get a Swiss cheese, turkey sandwich with mustard. What the heck?! Was is really meant for his other wife???? The one that enjoys everything I don’t??
It’s not the sandwich guys, I mean, I get that it’s just a sandwich and what’s the big deal really. But I was more than a little surprised that this roommate of mine knows so little about me. Now I sound dramatic, I know. I will say in my defense that this is just the latest example, lame as it is, of how much I am going unnoticed around here… Hello!!!
I mean, I know my man.
I know . . . .hmmm. . . . I know HE doesn’t like Swiss cheese! And. . . . tomatoes, lettuce or onions. I know he loves extra pickles. Hates liver.
He prefers my hair down and likes to talk Big but runs like a girl if I call his bluff.
He says he doesn’t like cats, but he does, and he likes to steal my pillows, which he’s doing now.
I know that pillow thieven’ man of mine.
Why doesn’t he know me?
Why doesn’t he know how I like my sandwiches?
What kind of deodorant I use, what size clothes I wear, that I don’t have time to change the pictures on the digital picture frame that he gave me for my birthday.
Why doesn’t he know that I don’t like marshmallows in my ice cream, or steak sauce on my steak? It’s not like I ever keep quite about these things. . . .I’m not a doormat or anything.
And for the record, I know, my husband wouldn’t like it if I were. . . .
Maybe I’m too observant. Maybe I have too good of a memory. Maybe . . . . . .

I’ll just have to make liver for dinner tonight. . . .

Silly. . .I know. (forgive me)

2007-01-29T14:48:00.000-06:00

Okay, I’m starting to feel a little better. I’m starting to feel the tension in my shoulders dissolve a little. I can start planning outings for the family again, and we are able to have guests over to the house now. . . (now that my son’s surgery is over)
So I am slowly starting to feel more…normal, I guess.
It helped to hear a similar story from Tara. She has a very nice blog of her own going that I find myself going to more often than not.
There is something extremely comforting to hear stories from others that have walked a similar path. I never really felt like that until now.
I was never really a “support group” kind of person. But maybe things are changing. Maybe I’m changing. . .

Now onto something lighter.
When was the last time you laughed. I mean really let it out?
Were you with your friends? Your spouse? Was it your children that cause you to feel childlike and silly again? Do you “allow” yourself to find humor in a multitude of everyday things?
I personally have a somewhat drier sense of humor than my husband. And you are more likely to get a grin out of me than a belly laugh, but it’s not impossible. My sweet husband has an easy laugh. One that makes you “shhh” him in the theatre. His laugh usually makes me laugh more than the movie itself.
But there is this one joke that gets me EVERY time.
I will warn you that you may not find the humor in it yourself, but I personally can not say the entire joke straight through. After a word or two I start giggling, then chuckling and before I know it, I’m on the ground crying. I do have a suspicion that this joke is elementary to say the least, but the people that I share it with end up laughing as well. I’m just not sure what at. . . the joke, or the adult lady rolling around on the ground gasping for air. . . you decide.

A three (hee hee) legged dog walks into (hhhheeee heee) *a small tear
Into (HAAA HAAAAA Ah….) ( HEEE HEEEEE) * multiple tears
A bar ( trying to compose myself by this point)
And says (HAAA HAAAaaa children coming in now to check on me)
“ I’m lookin for the man (heee heeeeeeeeeee) who shot (HAAAA HAAAAA) my (HAAA AHAAHHAAAA ect. ) Paw.”

*Wiping tears away
Ewww! That felt good.

It's over, but it's not. . .

2007-01-26T21:18:00.000-06:00

I have not blogged recently because. . .
My son had open heart surgery and I was busy with that.
It was a surreal experience to say the least and I am still dealing with a few different emotions that come straggling in on occasion.
Apparently I was in some sort of denial because I never really dealt with the whole thing until after we were home from the week long hospital stay. He is well now, and that is what is most important.
I am amazed though, at the lack of sensitivity from those closest to us. Not all really, just a couple, but it’s like a terrible thorn in my side. I don’t know why I care so much. I can only assume that my anger has more to do with the big picture and I am somehow choosing to direct it all to this one area. . . hmmm. I wonder if I’ll sleep tonight.
To quote my offenders, “yes it’s over and yes he’s “healed” “ But I feel as though my own heart has a gaping wound. Almost like something died. Maybe it was my hope. My hope that we would somehow be “saved” this experience. . . . I wonder why I even care about that, now that it’s over. It’s like dreading the pain of child labor after you have already had the baby. What is wrong with me?

Knock, Knock...I KNOW you're in there!

2007-01-06T21:03:00.000-06:00

Tell me what you think. . .
I’m tend to be overly concerned with people and their feelings. I try not to make others uncomfortable if it’s not necessary.
With that said, I am faced with a dilemma. I am trying to make friends with my neighbors as I have mentioned before and I am trying to find that balance between being respectful and being friendly and inviting. I want to encourage a friendship with one neighbor in particular but I don’t want to be the neighbor that others run away from. I don’t fag them down every time I see them in the front yard. I politely wave and go about my own business, but if they want to talk, I do that too.
I’m just not sure . . .Should I try once more before backing off? Or should I assume that if they wanted a closer relationship then they would be reaching out as well? Now, don’t get me wrong, they don’t slam the door in my face or anything. Infact they warmly invite me in and we (the lady of the house) sit and chat for a good amount of time and I would venture to say that it is an enjoyable event for both involved, but can I be sure?? I had invited her to join me at the last minute to a Christmas party and she sounded sincere when she regrettably declined (her child was having a Christmas performance that night). But have not heard from her since. I offered to loan her some baby gear when she had relatives in over the holidays, and she accepted, but I have not heard from her since. (Yes, she returned the borrowed items.) So do I leave the ball in her court or do I assume that with the holidays and all, that she’s just been busy? I don’t want to be pushy, but I know that she’s the type to need a little pushing- just a little.
And now I have two new neighbors. They just built their homes next door. I would like to take them a pie, like I have done the others, but now I’m starting to wonder what the hell I’m doing. . .
It’s starting to sound “freakish” to me. Am I a freak? Has being neighborly in this day and age become something frowned upon? If I was your neighbor, would you run?
People, please give me a little perspective here. . . and hurry up, cause the pie's in the oven.

The Perfect Lie

2006-12-29T16:42:00.000-06:00

Okay, I did the unthinkable. I invited someone into my home when it was. . .let’s just say less than perfect. No that’s not true, it was a total and complete disaster.
I have been feeling under the weather the last few days and was really neglecting…well, everything. I had trash that needed to be recycled stacked up in the middle of the kitchen island. Milk jugs, pizza box, juice jugs, soup cans. . . .and the list goes on and on. But that’s not the worst of it. The sink was FULL of dirty dishes. The counter tops needed wiping down. The floor was sticky. There were toys in every room and in every corner. The children were not fully dressed, and I was still in my PJ’s. And of course, as that implies no hair, and no makeup.
Are you wondering what the big deal is?
Well, as I might have mentioned before, I am a southern girl and we like to play dress up. We also like to pretend to be a master of all things. We even indulge each other in this fantasy game, by giving a polite “shout out” before dropping by someone’s home. This gives them the opportunity to also pretend to be perfect by shoving all their messiness under a bed, in the closet, or worse in the bath tub (this one, I’ve only heard about).
So why did I open the door, you maybe asking.
Well, I did it to dispel an ugly rumor that has been circulating though my family for quite some time now. You see the “guest” was my dear cousin, and the ugly rumor that I am trying to debunk is that I am “perfect”.
Now why would I want to destroy such a beautiful illusion?
For several reason really, but the main one, the simplest one is because when all the crap that I have ever shoved anywhere, (metaphorically speaking) comes crashing down on me, I want my friends and family to be standing there with a helping hand and a shovel. Not with their mouths hanging open, pointed fingers and shocked expressions.
To tell you the truth, I have no idea where this rumor originated. I’m not perfect by any standard. I’m overweight and underpaid. I’m a lousy driver and can get lost going to my mailbox. I am sarcastic by nature and though fore offensive to most. One leg is shorter than the other one and my earlobes are fat. I do however posses a few qualities that others in my family may be lacking, such as I understand the meaning of R.S.V.P. I can organize an event weeks before it actually occurs, instead of just a few hours, and I do normally keep a tidy house (not that they don’t) but they also have quite a few things up on me. For instance they are all certifiably geniuses. How very annoying.
No, really I love ‘em and I don’t enjoy being judged negatively by them, hence the impromptu house tour.
I hope there are whispers at the next family gathering.
I hope that I’m the butt of a few jokes.
They can laugh all they want; they just better bring a shovel when I need ‘em.

A girls gotta' do what a girls gotta' do.

2006-12-26T15:18:00.001-06:00

It has been an eventful weekend. Lots of celebrating and lots of sugar; so by late afternoon on Christmas day, all I wanted to do was snuggle up to husband on the couch, finish a movie that we had started and watch the kids play with their toys. But my Grace had different plans. She too, wanted to play with her new toys, but she wanted to play with her new bath toys. Now, call me a bad mom if you will, but I didn’t want to do bath-time last night. It sounded like too much work. Washing the hair against their will, coxing them out of the tub before they turn into ice cubes, trying to catch two squealing slippery pixies just so that I could wrestle warm dry clothes on them; and then TRY to brush their hair. NO THANK YOU!
I just didn’t want to do it.
So I told Grace that they could bathe tomorrow, and proceeded to ignore the protest and watch my movie. A few minutes later my husband tells me that he caught Grace coloring on Faith's tummy with markers. When asked why she did that she ignored the question and told her father that Faith was dirty and needed a bath. I thought smugly to myself that Grace may be smart, but as for now, I’m still smarter, because I do not give my kids any art tools that are not washable. So I ignored it and continued to watch my movie. A few minutes later Grace walks up to me in the living room and just stand there. I try to look past her, but she gracefully positions herself between me and the T.V. So I look at her. There was white stuff on top of her head. “What did you do?” I ask. “Well, I’m dirty too, and we need a bath.” She stated very directly. “Grace, what is on your head?” I ask again, not liking it when she ignores me. “My dinner. Now give me a bath. “ also said very directly.
Next time I don't think I'll be quite as smug.
Good times.

I believe. . .

2006-12-26T13:00:00.000-06:00

Marriage.
People can say what they want about marriage not being necessary or realistic, but I find great comfort in believing in our “forever”, our commitment. I am an introvert and can appreciate “alone time” and personal space. But I have Never needed my husband like I do now. There are secrets of the heart that you only share with the person in your life that you never think will leave you. Your spouse has “promised” to be there for you through it all. Even after seeing you at your worst and finding out just how selfish and ugly your heart can be. They have promised to be your friend, to hold your hand, to love you and to allow you to love them back; to hold their hand and to be their friend.
If you don’t believe in a good marriage, then you don’t believe in yourself. You don’t believe that you can be that open, that supportive, that forgiving, and that self-sacrificing for that long. You have to know that you are capable of that kind of relationship in order to believe that someone else out there is also.
I find it interesting that a lot of people that do not believe in a God do not believe in marriage, in the traditional sense. They don’t see what a piece of paper has to do with a life long commitment. But I do. I believe that your word should stand for your character. I believe that commitment is something that should be stronger than motive. And I believe in God.
I think that because I am able to “believe” in something other than myself, something bigger and better, that it allows me to believe in me. And ultimately the “God” that is in me.
If you are finding it hard to believe in something solid, something good; even yourself and others. Reconsider the importance of God in your life.

It could be worse...you could be a fish.

2006-12-20T17:57:00.000-06:00

I’m a big believer in “It could be worse.”
If you call me late at night, and cry on my shoulder, I’ll cry with you. I’ll listen to you. I’ll try to comfort you. But before the night is through, be sure you’ll hear those four annoying words come out of my mouth. I just can’t help it. I believe it, and for some reason I find it comforting.
If you don’t believe me. If you think it would be impossible for things to be worse, you’re wrong.
You could be an Anglerfish. Anglerfish are those nasty looking sharp teeth fish that live in the Deep Dark Ocean. You know the ones. They have that little light that hangs off their head to attract their pry. Yep, that’s them. But, not only are they extremely freaky to look at, the male of their species is even more disturbing. He looks nothing like the female. He has no light and is a lot smaller in comparison, but the worse part is that he actually attaches himself to the sides of the female. The disturbing part is that he NEVER detaches. He melts, sort of dissolving into the female's sides. Scientists thought that these fish just had a lumpy exterior, but no. It was actually the remains of their former lovers.
Now that’s bad.
At least the black widow moves on after devouring her mate, she never has to see him again, but the Anglerfish sees her ex-mate's butt every time she looks at her own. He’s like cellulite. Not to mention that he actually becomes part of her. His blood mixes into hers. He’s a parasite.
So you may have it bad right now, but you can always take solace in the fact that your ex’s aren’t permanently attached to your butt.

A nice night

2006-12-20T00:12:00.000-06:00

I had a date last night. Well, it was a girl’s night and then my sister-in-law and I hit a late feature before calling it quits. Actually, in true girl fashion, we stopped off and did a little midnight shopping at the local drug store after the movie. I had to bring home baby formula and it was convent, open, and not Walmart. Not that I don’t shop at Walmart, but I will say that I only go there when I have to. I always leave there a broke zombie. Talk about mental overload. You literary have to ask yourself two questions for EVERY item that you lay eyes on.
1. Do I need this now?
2. Will I need this in the next couple of weeks?
Do you KNOW how many products a Super Walmart stock? Exhausting.
Anyway, I was going to tell you about the movie we saw.
Holiday. It was really, really cute. I think it is one that I would like to own. And don’t be turned off by Cameron’s performance during the first 20 minutes or so. She loosens up and gets better as the movie progresses. Besides, that haircut is so very cute on her that it makes the hard to watch acting, bearable. Besides, Jude Law is oh, so yummy! Man! He’s got a couple of “looks” that can make a girl blush.
Needless to say I had a nice evening. A little laughing, a little shopping, and a little blushing. . . Now that’s a good date!

A mother's intuition

2006-12-14T21:21:00.000-06:00

As I had mentioned before, my now 4 month old son has a heart condition Tetralogy of Fallot, and will need to have open heart surgery. I won’t bore you with the details, but we spent all day Wednesday in the hospital doing tests. At the end of a 12 hour stay at the hospital, the Doctor after reading some of the results considered admitting our son over night. This was NEVER supposed to be an overnight event. We were suppose to go in at 6:00 a.m. start testing at 8:00 a.m. and leave around 5 or 6 p.m. but my little chunky baby decided to hide his veins under a few rolls of sweet baby chub, creating a problem for the anesthesiologist. ( He needed to be put to sleep for the test. ) After poking every “ thin “ area of his body, they ended up putting the IV in the bottom of his left foot. Part of the “monitoring” was a test that revealed his oxygen saturation levels. They are normally 100% for a healthy person. Normal for someone with Tetralogy of Fallot is in the 70 – 80 range (before surgery); lower than that and it becomes a serious concern. After the test while being monitored his saturation levels fell to the 50 range. He was even being given oxygen at the time. Serious Concern. This condition is also known as “Blue Baby Syndrome”, the lack of oxygen in the blood, causes the person to become blue. The lower the saturation levels the bluer they look. When my son’s levels were registering in the 50’s he looked the same pinkish color that he always did when feeling well. He acted in the same manner that he always did and otherwise seemed fine. But his numbers were not fine. The Dr. was concerned. He wanted to keep him overnight and wait until his levels rose into the 70 range while not having the assistance of oxygen. By this time of night, we were all exhausted. We just wanted to go home and rest as well as ingest all of the information that we had received that day. I had not slept the night before and I will be honest in saying that I was possibly not making complete sentences by this time. God did however give me the clarity to communicate in an effective manner what I was feeling inside.
I told my husband that I did not care what the monitor was saying. This is normal for my son. This is as good as it gets. This is the best color that he gets. This is the best he acts (lower numbers means less oxygen, which means more lethargic). If they do not feel comfortable sending him home in this condition, then they are going to have to keep him and perform his surgery today, because this is as good as it gets. The more I said it out loud, the more I knew it to be true. Even though the numbers and my opinion conflicted each other the Dr. did decide to give it a couple more hours before officially omitting us. So we waited and prayed. Every couple of sections his number would flash across the screen. 52. . .53. . .55. . .52. . . 52 . . .52 Eeeerrrggggg. Come On! I know this isn’t right! So finally our wonderful nurse, truly. Took the reader from his finger and placed it on his toe, hoping that I was right, and that something was wrong with the machine. We held our breath. . . .52. . . . 53. . . .53. . . .52. NO! The Dr. was due any minute and we were going to have to stay. Now, you may be saying, “what’s the big deal lady? It’s just one night.” But no, it wouldn’t be because as I said, this was as good as it was going to get for him, and secondly when he has open heart surgery in about a month we will be in the hospital for over a week. I didn’t want to start that now. Especially without being prepared. So as my son’s bedtime approached we tried to settle him down in a strange environment while working around several wires and sore incision spots. As I was rocking him in a chair that did not rock something happened, I promise I didn’t do it on purpose, but his IV came out of his foot and there was blood everywhere! Yes, it was scary. The reason that he was being monitor in the first place was to make sure that the artery that they preformed the catheter in would not reopen and cause him to loose all his blood.
Anyway, we cleaned him up, realizing that it was only the IV. In doing so, all wires were removed and a new oxygen saturation monitoring device was attached to his toe. . . . 70. . .75. . . 76. . .77. . .75. .. 76. . . YES! We’re goin’ home! Hubby and I did a happy dance with chubby baby. Dr. walked in shortly after. “So you want to go home?” Or bags were already packed. “Thank you very much Dr. , see you tomorrow. Bye.” Thank you Jesus! Finally the end to a VERY long day.
Baby slept like a log all night. So did I.
Remember, you are the parents. You know your children. And computers are not always smarter than you.
Now go kiss your babies and thank God for them.

Heeee heee hee he

2006-12-13T00:21:00.000-06:00

I did not write this, but it did make me laugh. . .

A six-year-old boy told his father he wanted to marry the little girl across the street. The father, being modern and well-schooled in handling children, hid his smile behind his hand.
"That's a serious step," he said. "Have you thought it out completely?"
"Yes," his young son answered. "We can spend one week in my room and the next in hers. It's right across the street, so I can run home if I get scared of the dark."
"How about transportation?" the father asked.
"I have my wagon, and we both have our tricycles," the little boy answered. The boy had an answer to every question the father raised.
Finally, in exasperation, his dad asked, "What about babies? When you're
married, you're liable to have babies, you know."
"We've thought about that, too," the little boy replied. "We're not going to have babies. Every time she lays an egg, I'm going to step on it!"

- Author Unknown

Warm Fuzzies . . .

2006-12-12T14:35:00.000-06:00

3 year old climbed up in the computer chair behind me and started rocking us back and forth. I took her hands that were on my shoulders and rapped them tightly around my neck and rocked us a little faster. She quickly told me that she thought we might fall backwards, but I assured her that I had her and that she would not get hurt. She immediately smiled and told me to go faster.

2 year old likes to scream at bugs. She apparently believes that this will scare them away. (It always sends me running) I recently explained to her that bugs do not have ears (but mommy does) and that yelling does not bother them (but it does mommy). I showed her that you could make most bugs go away by “Shooo” ing them. Shortly after that inspiring lesson, I started to take her into her room to get her ready for a nap. As you can imagine the 2 year old was in no way interested in taking her nap. As she sees me coming towards her with her blanket and a sippy cup in my hand she starts running from me yelling, “NO THANK YOU MOMMY!! NO THANK YOU!! ” So as I laid her down on the changing table she stuck both hands in my face and said, “ Shooo mommy, shoo!“ I LOVE THAT KID!

3 year old was in the bubble bath with her face down in the water. I tell her not to drink the bath water and she picks her head up and says, “ I’m not drinking the water Mom, I’m being Santa.” She had white bubbles all around her mouth and on her chin.
This kid’s smart. There was no mirror in the tub.

Anytime anything good happens my 2 year old yells (yes, she’s very very loud), “THANK YOU MOMMA!!! THANK YOU!!”. She will do this about anything, pizza, jumpy house, suckers, a good cartoon, bath time, anything that makes her happy, even if I had nothing to do with it. I guess one of these days I should tell her that all good things come from God, but it feels so good to be that well thought of that I admit that I might have drug my feet a little on that one.

3 year old told me, after I insisted that she stop playing with my makeup, that Santa was not going to come see me if I didn’t start being nicer to her. (That one didn’t warm my heart so much)

Things that scare me . . .

2006-12-11T23:37:00.000-06:00

Opened lunch meat
My power bill
My children’s intelligence
Four letter words used around my children
The mouse in my garage. Not the mouse itself, but the damage it can causes
That twinkle in my husband’s eye
Small pieces to toys
Getting pregnant AGAIN
Lousing my cell phone. I have a total of 0 numbers memorized.
Salmonella poisoning
Pork
People that don’t like animals
Internet weirdoes
People that would hurt children
Toll Roads
My spelling
Buffets

To be continued. . . .

What scares you?

Bahummbug

2006-12-11T14:37:00.000-06:00

Okay, I guess I need to let off a little steam and where better to do this??

First, let me say that I am a normal Joe (ett). I do not see myself as being any better, smarter, cuter, funnier, wiser, ect. than the next guy. And I generally care about people and do try to look at things from their prospective, when given the opportunity. So with that said, let me rant.
I suppose my main issue right now is with service or lack there-of.
Like I said, I’m a good person. I like people. I am a big tipper. I sympathize and relate to the average waiter in a big way. I too wait hand and foot all day on a bunch of babies. If you get them water, they want milk. If you get them milk they want juice. I get it. Really. So I try to be a good customer. I use your first names. I make eye contact. I try not to be on the cell phone when you are talking to me. And I stopped ordering things that were not on the menu years ago. I try to make your job as easy as I can. I even clean the table when I’m done. And the honest to goodness reason why I am eating there in the first place is because I want to be severed. I could grab food from anywhere, heck I have pizza hut on speed dial, but when I come to your restaurant it’s because I want to enjoy a warm meal, that I did not have to prepare and that I will not have to clean up after and that I could possibly, hopefully sit through the entire event.
So please show me the same respect I show you.
And for GS do not serve me crap tea.
If I order tea, than give me tea. If I order crap tea, then bring it on. But if I order tea DO NOT bring me tea with raspberry/orange/kiwi/green/black in it. And look all innocent as I gulp it down like a camel. If all you have is crap tea, then at least warn me.

And the other thing that I’m letting irritate me is my Christmas tree.
For GS people, leave my Christmas tree alone. Yes, it could stand in for Charlie Brown’s and yes, it is smaller than yours, but I like it! It’s the perfect accent piece to all the other decorations that I have. It takes up less storage. It requires fewer ornaments. I don’t have to stick a dump bow on top because a star looks tinny and ridiculous. No, I have a beautiful gold star that fits my smaller tree just fine and I think it looks nice. All that matters is that the tree is taller than my children, and it happens to be taller than me, it’s not bald and it is in new condition. So leave to poor thing alone. It’s doing a wonderful job being our little Christmas tree.

My beef with Rudolf

2006-12-09T14:37:00.000-06:00

I find it amazing the we are not a little more screwed up. Have you SEEN the 1964 Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer show lately? The supporting characters are mean and hateful. Rudolf’s own Father is ashamed of him and has Rudolf’s wear a disguise for over a year to make him appear more “Reindeerish”. Even Santa is unsupportive in the beginning. And then there is the Snow Monster. As I was watching it with my 3 year old I kept thinking that any minute they would discover that he just had a terrible tooth ache and the “dentist” elf would make it all better and everyone would be friends. At least that was how I remembered it, but NO that is Not the story. The “dentist” elf ambushes the “monster” and pulls out all of his teeth WITHOUT prier written consent! No wonder we have a fear of dentist. This show is full of actions that are not something that I want my children to emulate. Of course Rudolf is courageous and forgiving but . . . is it enough I ask you? I tend to question a lot of things that society deem inappropriate. Let’s just say that I’m conservative, but man, this cartoon really ruffled my feathers!
Okay, I’m off my soap box, and Rudolf is off my movie box. . .

Once upon a time. . . .

2006-12-04T10:38:00.001-06:00

I love my children. I would not want my life without them, but sometimes it’s interesting to look back on some of the changes that we have made to make our lives and homes suitable for them. Fill free to add your own
additions.

Once upon a time. . .

I could go an entire day or two without mysteriously smelling like soured milk.
I could have a lenthy conversation without interrupting the other adult to say something silly like: “Don’t touch that! It’s an Oweeee!” or “Please don’t stick your figure in your sister’s nose!”
I could sleep through the night without being wakened by little people making big demands.
I could walk through my entire house without stepping on one single Cheerio.
I could sit for a whole twenty minutes without either getting up to check on a loud noise, or getting up to check because it was too quite.
I could throw something in the back seat of my car without checking to see if it cleared all three car seats and didn’t land on anything gooey.
I could wait and run my dishwasher when it was full, not whenever I run out of clean sippy cups or bottles.
I could run out to the mail box without being worried a little person would lock me out of my own house.
I could brush my hair and teeth before 10:00am.
I could get dressed in the morning to go out that night and stay clean ALL day!
I could go out at night.
I could have spontaneous sex with my husband.
I could run out of milk in the frig and it did not require a midnight run to the nearest store.
I could wrap Christmas presents at the kitchen table and not in the master bathroom.
I could open any drawer, door, or cabinet without fiddling with a latch of some kind.
I could leave something valuable to me lower than four feet off the ground.
I could sit at my kitchen table and not find leftovers stuck to it from three nights ago.
My walls didn’t require touch- up painting every 8 hours.
I could leave food and water in the house, out for the dog all day.
I could do a load of laundry without it requiring half a bottle of Spray N Wash.

It's all over now. . .

2006-11-30T13:32:00.000-06:00

It's done. They did it to me. Endless nights of no sleep. Almost constant bickering. The screaming. Oh the screaming. It's done. I had no choice I had to have help. I am but a mere mortal (shocking-I know). So in order to survive. To simply continue to breathe. I had to do it. I sold my soul and crossed over. I'm one of them now. One of those zombies that can't even speak until they get their fix. I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to do it. (I've been singing that melody all morning. No, not in my head, out loud. That's how sentenced I feel.) I don't even like the stuff. I only ingest it to know that I am alive. Otherwise it would be very difficult to tell. I would strongly resemble a rather large lump residing either on the couch or propped up by the nearest support beam. I had to do it, I tell you. I had no other choice. You can't judge me. You're not here every day. Every hour. Every minute. Every second of every day of every week of every month of every year. And to add injuries to insult it's my birthday. I'm old now and in need of a crutch or two. So why not? Why not join the masses and their sick addiction? Maybe this is my birthday gift to myself. A gift of a few more conscious moments. A few more sain thoughts. Maybe. One can only hope. So sign me up. And mail me the bill.
Starbucks here I come. . .

bitter-sweet pecan pie

2006-11-19T18:37:00.000-06:00

Holidays can be so bitter sweet. I am reminded how the circle of life stops for no one. My loving Grandmother is feeling the effect of being on the other end of that circle, and for the first time in 53 years she is not planning on cooking one single thing for Thanksgiving. Now, I’m not saying that she should, especially if she doesn’t feel like it, but what is Thanksgiving without your grandmother’s pecan pie?!
She purchased a couple of pre-made pies from the store and is going to bring them and a warm smile. I know that it could be even worse next year. We could be without her smile. Her time here is getting shorter and I understand that, it’s just not as easy to swallow as her pecan pie. I already miss her.

Buzzzz

2006-11-19T12:26:00.000-06:00

My 3 year old tells me to come and meet her new friend "Buzz". I pretend to shake hands with "Buzz" assuming that he is another imaginary friend. (we have quite a few running around here) But she was quick to inform me that I had missed Buzz completely. Apparently Buzz is a fly. (this is what the quarantine has done to us).
She then tells me that I am not to hurt her friend "Buzz" by killing him. Of course after she leaves the room and "Buzz", apparently hungry, helps himself to her lunch, I start chasing him around the house with some reading material that I thought he might find interesting. I missed. I hear her sweet voice call from the next room, "Mom, don't hurt my friend Buzz". I miss again. A little less sweet, "Mom, don't Killll Buzzz!" Then out of frustration I call back, "Honey, I don't like your friend Buzz! I think he's nasty and disgusting and I don't like him!" Then a little more sweetly she replies, " Oh, mom, he just needs a bath!"
Kids!

I am now the neighborhood snoop

2006-11-18T23:44:00.000-06:00

I am apparently now the neighborhood snoop.

Here’s the story:
My family and I have been "quarantined" because my 3 month old son is going to have to have open heart surgery in couple of months, and we can't risk getting him sick before his surgery. And because we can not do any group socializing, we have not found a church in the area, or made any new friends. So I have made an extra special effort to befriend the new neighbors around me. One of the neighbors have already decided that we are weirdoes. I haven’t even begun to decipher why. There are way too many possibilities.
But there are these other neighbors across the street that I especial would like to get to know and so far, they have remained friendly. So as you can imagine I was quite trilled when they asked me to feed their new puppy while they were away for the weekend. Now understand that the “quarantine” has started to mess with our minds because I had the bright idea to take my two year old across the street with me to play with the puppy. Well, the poor little girl was just so thrilled to be out of our house that she ran amuck in theirs!
After tackling her three quarters of the way up the stairs upon immediate entry into the house, I wrangle her outside where the puppy, obviously “quarantined” as well was as happy to see her as she was to see him. Wrestling ensued. Then after much refereeing I decide they need a brake, so back through the house we go. Only, as I reach the front door I notice a terribly large menacing scorpion. Yes I said scorpion.
So I decide that if I kill this monster I will be saving my new friends lives thereby insuring our life long friendship, so I attack! It is surprisingly resilient and I asses that I will need to put a little more weight behind my next blow. By the way, I’m supper tiny, almost non-existent (ha) so when my daughter wriggles free from my grasp I am momentarily relieved to have both hands free for this battle I have found myself in. The relief lasted about 30 seconds, and then after securing our new best friends safety, I go in search of a very nosey 2 year old.
Where did I find her? Well in the master bedroom of course! I immediately see my new found friendship slipping away as I notice something in her hand and the top drawer of the night stand open slightly. By slightly I mean the size of my two years olds hand. She proudly displays her treasure for me to admire. I, by this time feel like I am being tried and found guilty. I grab the kid, throw her over my shoulder, kicking and screaming of course; take the “treasure” and throw it down on the night stand and run for my life! Once home I try to asses the situation.
Do I tell them the truth?
If I do, there is a very good chance that I could sound like – one a crazy person, making up an excuse for rummaging through their drawers – or two a very stupid parent that would bring a two year old that has not seen the light of day in over a week, to run free through a strangers house.
I told the truth, but I’m not stupid. I had enough sense to put the dead scorpion just outside the front door for proof. One- of my bravery, and two- of my honesty. . . . .
Now who would not want to be my friend?!

all about me. . .

2006-11-18T22:03:00.000-06:00

Welcome to the 2006 edition of "getting to know your friends."
1. What time did you get up this morning? 1:42am, 3:08am, 5:28am, 7:23am, 9:32am

2. Diamonds or pearls? yes please

3. What was the last film you saw at the theatre? Lake House

4. Favorite TV show? hmmm. . .(don't judge me) Boston Legal, and Grey's Anatomy

5. What did you have for breakfast this morning? grapefruit at 1:50am, and toast at 10:30am

6. What's your favorite cuisine? Anything that I do not have to cook and then clean up (Right now the baby is craving fish and fruit)

7. What foods do you dislike? marshmallows (if you want to consider that a food) Chili with chili powder. And of course anything that takes a long time to prepare and a mess to clean up

8. What is your favorite chip flavor? Chocolate

9. What is your favorite CD at the moment? Worship mix

10. What kind of vehicle do you drive? double stroller

12. What characteristics do you despise? Obsessiveness. It's so hard to get through to or reason with an obsessed person.

13. Favorite item of clothing? PJ's (large ones)

14. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go? ......someplace quite, with a beautiful view and a comfortable hammock ........

15. What color is your bathroom? a dark shade of cream on the walls, trimmed in white. I haven't actually decorated it yet, I'm considering splashed of red for accent-but I want it soothing. . . .hmmmm

16. Favorite brand of clothing? who cares?

18. What was your most memorable birthday? 15th (oh my gosh that was SO long ago!)

20. Favorite sport to watch? My husband at the firing range.

23. What fabric detergent do you use? Tide with bleach 'cause it's the best!

25. Do you wish on stars? I've never actually BEEN on a star, but I'm sure it I ever found myself there I would be wishing for some help

26. When did you last cry? A few days ago. . . .I'm 9 months preg. give me a break.

27. Do you like your handwriting? Yes. But mi spellling is enother mater. . .

28. If you were another person, would YOU be friends with you? Nah, I'm not my type

29. Are you a daredevil? Not anymore. Kids will do that to ya'.

30. Do looks matter? I hope not

31. How do you release anger? I become passive aggressive -sorry

32. What were your favorite toys as a child? Wow! my bike, my dolls, my camera, good times. . .

33. What class in High School was totally useless? Spellling oviously

34. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Unfortunately. It gets me in a lot of trouble -sorry

35. Favorite movies? I don't know. I like to watch movies, but I don't like to watch them multiple times. . .

36. What are your nicknames? Super amazing wonderful person

37. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? nope

38. Do you think that you are strong? No, I KNOW that I am strong, come here and let me sho' ya'!

39. What's your favorite ice cream flavor? yes, please

40. What are your favorite colors? The color of my kids eyes. (a beautiful dark blue)

41. What is your least favorite thing about yourself? my sense of modesty. I really need to come to terms with just how wonderful I am. (and I think ya'll should too)
see #34

42. Who do you miss the most? My grandmother

43. Do you want everyone you sent this to send it back? most definitely, there will be a pop quiz

44. What color pants are you wearing? pants?

45. What are you listening to right now? My 3 year old playing in the room with her imaginary friends (this one is a bear)

46. What did you last eat? Lunch- chicken n' pasta

47. If you were a crayon what color would you be? blue

48. Last person you talked to on the phone? My husband

49. Favorite Drink? Tea, water

50. Do you wear contacts? Nope

51. Favorite Day(s) of the Year? Of course the Days my children were born. And of course the day I married my husband. And any day where my kids sigh and say, "It's a wonderful day mom."

52. Scary Movies or Happy Endings? Scary Movies with Happy Endings....so sweet

53. Summer or winter? I've heard winter is nice. . . .

54. Hugs or Kisses? Hugs from clean people, kisses from my kids

55. What Is Your Favorite Dessert? Dessert? yes please

56. What Book(s) Are You Reading? Beth Moore Bible study, and a book on personality profiling

57. What's On Your Mouse Pad? mouse pad?

58. What Did You Watch Last night on TV? I didn't watch TV last night, I saw a live wrestling match in my living room.

59. Favorite Smells? Gardena, plumaria, roses, and babies of course

60. Rolling Stones or Beatles? Stones

61. What's the furthest you've been from home? Switzerland