Random Acts of Motherhood

New year....

2009-01-05T15:41:00.001-06:00

...New blog!

Please catch up with my updates at my new blog from now on.

For now, I've got all of my archives from Random Acts there, but they may go away soon.

Thanks so much for sticking with me through the slow times. Exciting things to come!

-B

PS: If you have a linky to me, please update the URL for optimum traffic flow ;)

I'm going to shove the game up her....

2008-12-30T11:14:00.002-06:00

Christmas is all gone now, and I've got to wait until next year for more joy, cheer, and Santa. Our tree is still up, but it's lingering about like a washed up relative does around the Christmas buffet...no one knows why it's still there and it's not going away on its own.

Teething has turned my sweet baby into a fussy, drooling monster on sleep strike. He sleeps decently at night, but napping? Well, that's out of the question. And on top of everything, he now bites me during every feeding. He got his first two teeth when he was only four months old, and now he's going to have six teeth by the time he's 6 months old. He's currently getting in four on top. And mind you, breastfeeding is expected for the first year.

Adrien is sitting on the couch in his underwear. Yes, underwear. The big boy kind and all...complete with lightning McQueen. Please lord let him stay dry. The couch can't afford another pee spot. If the cushion covers get washed one more time, I think they might fall right apart. So far so good. But, so help me, if I have to wash poop out of those teeny whitey tighties...well. That's another story entirely.

So Christmas is over. We're on to New Year's. My head is full of resolutions that I'm sure will be broken a day or two in. I suppose I'm just not a very resolute person. I do have other attributes though. I guess.

In case you were wondering my Mom did come for Christmas and she did bring said video game thing. It's entirely too advanced for him. It's for ages 3 and up, and while I tried nicely to urge her not to get it, I guess she just had to. He didn't make the fuss about it Christmas morning like I thought he would. Thomas the Train actually did win him over. But it's the fuss he's now making to play the darn thing. We got it out finally Sunday evening and low and behold, it's too hard. It takes either me or Andi to actually play it and he mainly watches and pushes a button or two every now and then. It's just too hard. So now my days are also filled with fits about playing his games. To top it off, my Mom bought him a Shrek game to go with it. The Shrek game is for ages four and up, so I can just imagine how incredibly above him that one is. Her reasoning for getting that one? Well they just didn't have any ones for the younger age group left at the store. Oh come on! Oh well. The thing came with a game anyway. But whatever.

I guess that's what Grandma's are for, eh? Causing havoc with the grandkids and getting the privilege of walking away from it all. Seriously. She is not my favorite person right now.

My Mom, the Narcissist

2008-12-22T14:55:00.002-06:00

My Mom is a narcissist. No really, she is. I know we all feel this way about our mothers...or, um, maybe we don't. But in dysfunction land -- where my family resides -- she is. And I can prove it.

I won't even delve into the realm of what she did at my wedding. She single-handedly ruined the entire thing for me, and pretty much everyone else attending; forever staining that day into my memory. And not in the good way you'd think it would be. No, I'm not going there. And I won't even venture into how she left me more than 13 voicemails in the week following my wedding, while Andi and I were honeymooning. She eventually ended up calling our hotel. Why? Because my wedding was supposed to be about the bride's mother and the bride. It was her day. And those are her words, my friend. But I'm not going there...just as I said I wouldn't.

I'm not even going to get into this past Thanksgiving and how it was supposed to be about her and her friends and family. Yet again, I'm quoting of course.

Nope, not me. I don't live in the past. I'm speaking of the future, and how my Mom intends to steal Christmas. My Mom's husband works offshore. He will be working on Christmas, and as such we've celebrated early with them this year just a few weekends back. Now that was fine. Then I found out my Mom was inviting herself over for Christmas this year. Which is fine, I don't want her to spend the day alone. Great. I'll see my Mom and the kids will see Meemaw. Wonderful. But then she announced she was coming up Christmas Eve. I can deal, really I can.

In November my Mom told me about what she was wanting to order Adrien for Christmas. He's absolutely obsessed with tractors, as any boy is, and so she was getting him a pedal tractor. You know, a tractor that's just his size that can be pedaled around. It was even coming complete with a trailor. I figured it would be fine and he would love it. And he will, love it. And therein lies the problem.

I'm not a mean Mom. I want my kids to have presents they like. I want to see his joyful, expressive face light up when he sees this thing. And no doubt he'll want to ride it for hours on end after receiving it. He will LOVE it. But it didn't come in in time for our early Christmas with my Mom. So of course, she was going to be bringing it along for the real Christmas.

Although Santa's got a grand Christmas planned for my little Pooka, let's face it. Thomas the Train does not compare to a big fat Adrien-sized tractor with trailer. It just doesn't. Neither do any of the other gifts Santa's going to be dropping through the chimney. So I politely called my Mom and requested she hold off on gifting the tractor until later that day. I'd prepared myself for my Mom to take it as badly as possible, and of course she would because you know, everything is about her. But to my surprise, she understood. Or at least she said she did. That is, until she called me this morning asking if Adrien would like one of those VTech video game systems.

It doesn't have to be from Meemaw or the parents, she explained, It can just be from Santa.

I guess her understanding is out the window.

Check it out, yo

2008-12-22T10:26:00.003-06:00

I've got a new blog in progress! My content is all moved over, and we're (my super genius web designer husband and I) are going to be working on design soon.

I've got my very own URL. I feel like such a big girl blogger!

Check it out:

www.apronstringsymphony.com

Budding Van Gogh

2008-12-19T21:12:00.002-06:00

Adrien never ceases to amaze me.

About two weeks ago, I was astonished to hear him call All Aboard! while playing with his trains. I realize, of course, that others probably don't see the significance in this. But to me, it was the world.

I was even more astounded yesterday when we were watching Noggin. They always have these "picture puzzle" things between shows and they had a big picture with a ton of shapes hidden in it. The point was to find all the squares within the picture. Adrien walked straight up to the TV and pointed them ALL out. He knows what a square is! Once again, I realize the significance may be lost to others...

And then today. I came into the living room from just having been checking email for about two minutes prior. I found him spraying a bottle of aerosol sunscreen onto his hand and licking it off.

Never ceases to amaze me.

Elfish Charleston

2008-12-17T15:42:00.001-06:00

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Wordless Wednesday: Look what I made!

2008-12-17T11:55:00.001-06:00

Respect MY Authority

2008-12-09T20:46:00.004-06:00

This past weekend we went to Dallas for the Neiman Marcus Adolphus Children's Parade. It was fun, but holy poopsicles, was it ever cold. We got downtown at 8 or something and the parade didn't even start until 10. It was worth it though! Once the parade started, I forgot how cold I was. Did I mention Jude slept through the entire thing? Ya. Marching bands and all. And we were front and center. I wish he would sleep that deep all the time.

Jude's been sleeping horribly the past few weeks. At first I thought it was his stomach with solids. So I'd cut out solid foods and he was still crying through the night. I can tell he's been in pain, so I finally took him into the doctor to see what was wrong. I was fearing an ear infection in his left ear, and I was right. I've been frustrated about finding a new doctor here in Tyler because I was so happy with our doc back in Dallas. I managed to find an osteopathic pediatrician at a local clinic not too far from our house and I was trying to remain optimistic. She looked nice in her photo and I was hoping the D.O. that followed her name meant she would be a little more liberal on some issues. Mainly on the vaccines.

When I told her my doctor in Dallas wasn't for vaccines she looked at me like I was insane and let me know that she would be willing to "work" with me on the schedule, but wouldn't be willing to see me if I wasn't working toward vaccinating. That seems to be the consensus I've gotten from doctors in this tiny little town. Fine, I'll take what I can get, and I'm guessing that means a doctor that will only allow a delayed schedule. It's not the fact that I'm being forced into vaccinating that bothers me as much as her reasoning behind it. She said, and I do quote;

...If you choose not to move toward vaccinating at all, I would be afraid that you wouldn't respect my authority on other issues...

Authority? AUTHORITY? I mean, who died and made you mother to my children? Since when did doctors become the be all and end all of authority in our childrens' lives? I get that I have no medical degree. But what I get even more is my children and when I know what feels right for them and what doesn't. Is it even right for a doctor to act as if a parent has no authority in their child's life? What she should be respecting is my authority as a parent.

I've caught flack for my stance on vaccinations before. But what's the world coming to when you're afraid to take your child to the doctor because of an informed medical decision you've made regarding their welfare? I was told by another pediatrician here in town that he, too, would have to refuse to see my children in his office if I put off vaccinating Jude after four months of age.

It's just unsettling.

You know what else is unsettling? The fact that I don't think I've brushed my teeth today.

As requested....

2008-12-03T16:18:00.001-06:00

Diapers and Schooling

2008-12-03T15:06:00.004-06:00

It's been forever since I posted. I'm so bad about that. I really need to try to get better. Props to all those bloggers who have multiple children in the preschool years and still get a daily blog up. I mean, really. It just boggles my mind. Blogging time used to come easily when it was just Adrien...just turn on some telly and I was good for like 20 minutes at least. Jude just doesn't get that whole zone out to the t.v. thing yet.

Speaking of the telly, I'm quite sure my kid(s) watch too much...you see, I'm already anticipating Jude watching too much as well. I was the mom who was never going to let my kid watch that much television. Really, I was. Then, when Adrien was a few weeks old, I discovered that he'd stop crying for a few minutes to let me get some dishes done if he was in front of the moving color box. Call me a bad mom or whatever, but I really needed those few scream-less minutes. And then it was that easy. Not that I let my infant really watch t.v...but when he was a little older we'd put it on Disney every morning. Oh how I miss the days of watching the Today Show...

And now it's like just the norm. We turn on cartoons in the morning, and since I've had Jude, it's sort of like my crutch. At least a few times a week (if not every day some weeks) I catch myself turning on Wow Wow Wubbzy reruns I've TiVo'd just to catch a cat nap while Jude takes his morning nap. And then some days that ends up turning into an all day occurrence (not the napping part, unfortunately). It's like ohmigoodness I need some breathing room, LOOK! there's Spongebob, finally I can get a minute of sanity. So I am really trying to work on that whole using the television as a crutch thing. You know I'm not the only mom. Don't look at me like that. Judge me, bitch, just try.

In jest though. But seriously, I got my new cloth diaper order today! Can we say exciting? I can. Exciting. I ordered some new covers because Jude's chunky little self moved up into a new size quite a while ago, we've just been stretching by with what the had. I decided to try a new kind of cover since the others I had were bulky (and expensive). I tried these ones out and I'm so happy so far! They're not bulky at all, and best of all you get TWO for only FIVE BUCKS!!! (That's compared to only one cover for close to $12 or $15). I also ordered some new prefolds for him since he's long since outgrown his infant sized ones (we've been living on some hand me down fitted diapers). They're absolutely GINORMOUS! And best of all, I finally broke down and ordered a BumGenius 3.0 one-size diaper. These are like cutting edge in the cloth diaper world. I've so coveted them, but have been too cheap to order until now. I finally allowed myself to order one because it was on sale and it was Black Friday. I sense an addiction coming on.

I've also been starting to think about schooling. I can't believe that in just two and a half more short years we'll be starting Adrien in school. I want to start the whole preschool experience soon. He's at an age where he's picking up on new concepts easily, and I feel now's the time to let that budding genius loose. In all seriousness though, I'd like to start him in a preschool when he's closer to three, but I realize we most likely won't have the money to put him into one I'd like. So I was checking around town for a preschool co-op. There is one that is ran through a homeschool co-op, and I was very excited to learn that...until I found out you have to have at least one school-aged child to enroll your children into the program. So that stinks. So I could enroll Adrien for Kindergarten when he's old enough and Jude would get the preschool benefit. That doesn't exactly do much for Adrien. So I'm going to keep checking. But I was talking to Andi about it and telling him how excited I was about the co-op thing and he asked me if I wanted to homeschool. So that set off a spark in my head. And now I'm researching that too. I am eager to get my adult life back, complete with a job and all, but education is very important to me. I don't want my children to be poorly educated by the public school system. On the other hand, I don't want them to miss anything socially by not going to public schools. I would adore a private school, but I'm being realistic and we probably won't be able to afford that either.

Get excited! I have my MOPS meeting tomorrow. We've started attending the church I got to the MOPS group at and we love it so far. It's quite a bit larger than what we're used to, and we're attending the contemporary worship which differs greatly from the strongly liturgical Presbyterian church we'd been attending in Dallas. But the music at the service is superb, and unlike some contemporary worship services we've been to, the music doesn't stretch on and on. I'm feeling like I'm missing something in my life right now and I can't quite put my finger on it. I'm thinking it's a strong sense of church home. Hopefully we'll be fully settled in the new church soon. We're trying out a Sunday School class this Sunday. Let's see how that goes.

We're going to be going back to Dallas this weekend to see a friend and go to the big Christmas parade they have there. I hope the weather's mild and not too terribly cold. I can't wait to see my friend! It's been too long already and I miss her a great deal.

Dallas, here we come! :)

I am what I think I am

2008-11-20T21:59:00.002-06:00

God called me lazy today.

For the last while, and especially this week, I've been moping around feeling pretty sorry for myself. I haven't been getting dressed. I haven't been cleaning. I've been flat out sour.

Today I had a meeting with the local MOPS group I've joined. It was Christmas craft day and my day was brightened even more because my Mother in law was taking care of my two year old. I was left with only one child in-tow and I'd gotten his feeding schedule just-so this morning as to not disturb my 10am to noon crafting session. I was going to drop my baby off in the nursery at church, go my meeting, drink coffee and act like the refreshed mother I'm not. But it was going to be wonderful.

And it was.

Until I was Convicted.

The devotional this morning was on Proverbs 31:10-31.

10 [c] A wife of noble character who can find?
She is worth far more than rubies.

11 Her husband has full confidence in her
and lacks nothing of value.

12 She brings him good, not harm,
all the days of her life.

13 She selects wool and flax
and works with eager hands.

14 She is like the merchant ships,
bringing her food from afar.

15 She gets up while it is still dark;
she provides food for her family
and portions for her servant girls.

16 She considers a field and buys it;
out of her earnings she plants a vineyard.

17 She sets about her work vigorously;
her arms are strong for her tasks.

18 She sees that her trading is profitable,
and her lamp does not go out at night.

19 In her hand she holds the distaff
and grasps the spindle with her fingers.

20 She opens her arms to the poor
and extends her hands to the needy.

21 When it snows, she has no fear for her household;
for all of them are clothed in scarlet.

22 She makes coverings for her bed;
she is clothed in fine linen and purple.

23 Her husband is respected at the city gate,
where he takes his seat among the elders of the land.

24 She makes linen garments and sells them,
and supplies the merchants with sashes.

25 She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.

26 She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

27 She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.

28 Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:

29 "Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all."

30 Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

31 Give her the reward she has earned,
and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.

Okay, God. I hear You loud and clear. I'm getting dressed tomorrow. I did the dishes this afternoon.

Letting the dog from the leash

2008-11-19T15:16:00.002-06:00

The kitchen is full of dishes. Some left from Sunday's party, some from other times. Until earlier today, the dining room table still held three dirty plates from dinner last night...one being my husband's over half full of old spaghetti. I'd upset him too much to eat, I guess. I was having another mid-week meltdown and giving him the what-for about my isolated life as a full time Mom.

I haven't gotten dressed all week, save for on Monday when we attempted to have a great day at the zoo. We had a day there, anyway. Today I sat on my bed on pins and needles as Adrien slept in the living room and Jude lay on my bed napping. The last shower I had was Saturday morning before a friend's baby shower. Still, it was nap time and I'd chosen first and foremost to dig into a book that had come for me in today's mail. Dishes and hygiene be damned, because this book was about finding yourself in the depths of motherhood.

Not even one chapter in and a dog started to yip outside my bedroom window. Banging from above. The trophy wife of the doctor who lives above me is home and she'd put her dandy little doggie out to doodie. I can still hear her high heels clicking around on the hardwood floor. She's so privileged...and she can't even drag her high heeled self out to walk her dog? I felt like walking right up to her door, pounding on it and giving her the run around about her dog waking my child up during precious, precious nap time.

But how would I look to this pampered picture of perfection? So instead, I picked up the crying baby and came to the computer to write this.

Anybody out there?

2008-10-10T09:10:00.002-05:00

We've been in the sticks now for a few weeks. I get like zero time to do anything...odd since you'd think I'd have more time (seeing as I'm living with my in-laws). But the internet here is slower than Methuselah...they live so far out in the middle of nowhere, that just to get internet -- other than dial up (people still have that?) -- is satellite. Slower. Than. Methuselah.

We found a place to move into, but the kitchen is being remodeled right now and it won't be ready until November 1. Which is fine. It's a duplex built in the 1930s, and all in all we'll have more square footage in the duplex than we did in our house back in the city. We'll be living downstairs from a doctor. It's in the nicest neighborhood in town. Can't wait to have my own space. And OH. My. Goodness...my king size bed. Four people sleeping in a bed that's supposedly queen size...it's like we're sardines, really.

We went back to Dallas about two weeks ago to turn the keys over to our new tenants. We went a day early...only to discover the house had been broken into sometime the previous week. The back door was kicked in. And I guess they had a temper. They kicked a hole in the hallway wall. I assume it's because they only made off with a cheap electric drill. At the end of it we were left with a hundred dollar hotel bill for the night, cops who took no fingerprints, etc. and major repairs to be done -- the day our new lessors were to move in. Very, very exciting...and odd to see someone else moving their things into my house. A bit heartbreaking...but I'm trying to remain optimistic.

Andi loves his new job so far. Let's keep the momentum going. I'll blog again when I get a chance. I'm going to be doing a redesign and a possible URL switch soon, but that will likely not be until after we get into our own place.

I'm so bored with this blog. Do I even have any readers anymore?

What ice cream can and can't do

2008-09-16T22:14:00.006-05:00

We've been packing, of course it has to wait until after the boys are in bed. I'm exhausted from the late nights. We went and bought blinds for the house today. I've lived here two years with just cheap paper blinds...and now, we've bought real, very nice blinds for the entire house. I'm fixing up my home so that someone else can move in. I feel a bit like I'm handing my own life over to someone else. Someone else will be cooking in my kitchen -- even using my refrigerator. I just loved that fridge. I thought it was so nice to move here and get one of the new refrigerators with the freezer drawer on the bottom.

My Mom is still without power. I finally got in touch with my Dad and he's without power as well...although the car dealership he works at has power. My Mom gets food and water from FEMA every day. What a joke that is. If FEMA would just send the generators for the water treatment center in town (like they promised to do days ago), maybe they wouldn't have to send so many National Guard to help hand out bottled water. Ya, that's right. My Mom is even without running water. Thank God she's been through enough of these storms before to know to fill all the available bathtubs up with water before it gets bad. I have a friend who lives by my Mom and she's an insurance agent. She's been working every day with no electricity or phone line just to get people's claims. I think that times are getting desperate there...my Mom says my step dad hasn't been sober a day since the storm. Hopefully this will get cleared up soon and the bastard can go back out and work on his stupid oil rig. I loathe drunkards.

And in other exciting news about what the storm dragged in, there's been a new colony of ants pop up in the back yard. Sunday was such a beautiful day that I let Adrien go out and play in the back yard. While the folks were here signing all the lease papers, Andi was showing the man our yard. Adrien had been picking me "flowers" which were really just tall pieces of grass going to seed...you know the ones with the black seeds attached. At some point Adrien ran in the house screaming, holding his hands out. I could see black dots on his hands, but I thought it was the grass seeds. I really thought he'd been stung by a wasp. No, he was being eaten by ants. They covered his hands. The rush to get them off of his tiny little fingers wasn't fast enough. He has about 75 bites between both hands. They swelled up like the marshmallow man's. I took him to the doctor Monday and she gave him a regime of steroids and Benadryl. He looks like he's got leprosy or some other crazy Biblical plague. I felt so bad for him on Monday that I let him have ice cream for lunch. Because if I'd just gotten eaten alive by ants, I'd want ice cream for lunch too. He was grateful.

Too bad ice cream can't keep me in my life as I know it. But for now, it does at least offer some comfort.

I'm spending the last few days here in this house, trying to soak everything in. I'm trying to absorb my life in every moment so that I don't forget...because I know I'll never have anything like this. Ever again.

The Storm has Passed

2008-09-14T16:12:00.003-05:00

The only part of the storm we saw was a full day of wind and rain. My husband's parents are still without power. Ike's eye moved right over their home, but fortunately, by the time it hit them, it had downgraded to a tropical storm. My Mom wasn't quite as lucky. The storm was still a category 1 hurricane when it moved over their home. And even though they live about two and a half hours inland, they've been told they may not have their power restored for two to three weeks. She's running on generator power right now, but that will only last as long as the fuel for it does.

I stayed up late Friday night, watching minute by minute coverage of the storm on The Weather Channel. I knew it was going to do damage, but in my mind, I don't think I realized to what extent. Galveston Island was, for the most part, washed away. It will be a long time coming before it looks anything like the Galveston I know and love. I can't believe so many people stayed behind. This storm was a monster. Andi and I honeymooned there. I lived there for a while with my Mom after I graduated high school. It hits hard when you see something so familiar shambled.

My Mom had planned on spending her birthday at the Balinese Room...which is a historic night club on the Sea Wall in Galveston...or rather, it was.

This:

Was turned to this:

It's so crazy to see all of this on television. Sort of like when the Tube was bombed in London. I'd just been living there a short while before, and I took the exact route that was bombed every morning, either to get to class or my job. It's such a strange feeling when something you've called home gets turned upside down.

In other news though, we've managed to lease our house out. I prayed a lot about it and I finally told God I was giving it over to him. The next day, we had someone look at the house and decide to lease it...a three year lease none the less. They filled out the paperwork today. We won't be losing this place after all. We're starting to pack, which is utter chaos in and of itself. We'll be moving next weekend. I'm so sad about leaving my church...but I know that I'm heading some place God wants me to be. My life has a purpose, and I'm getting closer to fulfilling it. I'm going to miss all my friends and my life here, but having the house taken care of has lifted a huge burden from my shoulders. I can finally breathe again.

Where I was...

2008-09-11T23:03:00.003-05:00

I was sitting in Physics class. Third period. Junior year.

A friend came in and told me she'd just heard that someone had crashed an airplane into the World Trade Center and one into the Pentagon. She said she'd heard that another one was headed for the Whitehouse.

She was such a gullible girl. Surely someone had tried to get the best of her to see what she would be believe. I mean, after all...earlier that year, I'd learned that she didn't know Kurt Cobain had killed himself. "Oh," she said, "I thought they just stopped making music..."

But it was true. Unimaginable truth. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. I still can't.

A few years later my tour bus would stop at Ground Zero. I could hardly get out of the bus. I really didn't want to.

Every year, I'm still that girl in third period physics. I still can't believe it.

A fork in the road

2008-09-03T13:41:00.005-05:00

It is sometimes the hardest to remember that our paths are already chosen for us. We forget that God knows how its going to end before we even begin. In our own human stubbornness, we plow through life with the rare realization that we have a purpose in this life. We get caught up in the day to day grind and routine of it all, often times never noticing those forks in the road that have been set out for us. I mean, sure, we've all got hose little decisions: turn left or right, cream or no cream, paper or plastic. But its those really big decisions in life that can be scary. The ones that will turn your life upside down. Sometimes we feel like we're deciding which road to take blindly; with no guidance from anyone. It's a shot in the dark. Other times, God sends us huge signs to follow. And still other times, He forces us down a path. I think the forced paths are the hardest pills to swallow. After all, God set in motion free will within each of us. Forced is often not in our vocabulary.

A few months back, my husband opened our mortgage statement to find we owed about $500 more than usual. We thought it was a mistake. A call to the mortgage company assured us it wasn't. It seemed that, since we'd built our house, our escrow payment had been sorely under charged. We owed a lot -- over a year and half's worth -- of property, city, and county taxes. The entire time we'd lived in this house, we'd been paying taxes on land only, with no house occupying the space. Obviously, there's a house here.

The mortgage company was able to work with us a bit on our payment, but it still went up quite a bit. When you are raising tow kids on one income, it's hard to come up with that "extra" few hundred dollars at the end of the month. If that higher mortgage statement had come just a few weeks earlier, we wouldn't have bought the new SUV we'd just brought home only three weeks prior to opening that mortgage statement. We wouldn't be in this mess. But it didn't, we did, and we are -- in a huge mess. As of Monday we are 2 months late on our house payment. We pay half of it every two weeks, but we're slipping closer and closer to foreclosure.

A few weeks ago, my husband was online perusing jobs, when he saw the name of the town his parents live in show up. He clicked to check out the job, only to find that it was exactly what he was looking for. Not thinking anything would come of it, he sent his resume off. A few hours later, he had an interview set up for the next week. The company, apparently, was looking for a candidate with his exact qualifications and experience. So he interviewed, never imagining they'd be able to pay him the salary we needed. To our amazement, they said his salary requirement was no problem. Andi meets with the CEO tomorrow. He should have an offer soon after.

Although we'd been talking about moving closer to family recently, I never thought he'd actually find a job that payed...in his career field [They have tech jobs in the sticks?]. This entire thing has thrown me for a loop. Of course I have a huge fear of what will happen when we leave. Will we be able to sell or lease our house? I'm not sure. Facing foreclosure is scary. I fear it will butcher our credit...and why wouldn't it? What kind of future will that be? Will we ever have a house again? [Do we deserve one?] For that matter, will we ever have anything again? Remembering that God will provide is increasingly hard. But He does, and He will. No matter how ashamed I feel right now, I have to be able to pick my chin up to thank God for all that I do have.

After returning to Andi's parents' house after a disappointing search for an affordable, decent sized apartment to cram the last two years of our life into, we learned that the house next to Andi's parents' property is going up for rent. Being a long-time family friend, the owner is willing to rent to us. God's providing us a home...And even though we'll most likely be staying with his parents for a short time while we figure things out financially, I'm grateful for that home. Those apartments were breaking my heart.

Here I stand, at a huge fork in the road. I'm completely out of breath and scared. Up until now I've been too proud to write about all of this...or even talk to friends about it. I cling to my material possessions so tightly, and have for so long, that losing them is putting huge holes in my self. My whole life is down the road I'm on right now: friends, church, things...Stepping foot down my new path feels like jumping into an abyss. It's dark and unknown. I have to give it all to God and take the leap anyway.

I'm absolutely terrified.

----

By the way, in case you're wondering, we have called the mortgage company. Despite the overwhelming number of foreclosures looming in America, our lender is unwilling to help us. They said that given all of our bills and expenses, since we have no surplus of income at the end of the month, they're unwilling to help us. If we had a surplus of income, don't you think we'd be paying our mortgage with it?

Cuppa

2008-09-03T08:39:00.001-05:00

So I finally remembered to get some decaf at the store...and some really great creamer.

I can't tell you how good it feels to wake up and have coffee to look forward to again.

It just beeped to let me know a pot is ready. Mmmmmm.

Quick

2008-09-02T16:41:00.002-05:00

I have a lot to blog about.

Of course it will all take entirely too long, and of course, it needs to wait until after the kids are in bed. Let's hope I have the energy to type it all up.

The kids are in bed now...but not for much longer.

I've just got a lot going on in my life and a lot circling around in my head about it.

I really hate being an adult some days.

Completely Humiliating Phase

2008-08-29T12:11:00.007-05:00

Okay, so Piper over at Bliss in Bloom posted a humiliating big hair pic [It's okay, Piper, I'm sure those bangs were all the rage -- with a big can of Rave].

Well, I'm too young to have experienced the big hair movement...although I did rock some killer bangs in elementary school. I don't have any big hair pics handy. I do, however, have this lovely pic. It's straight from my I'm gonna wear all black and listen to dark music period. You know...everyone else was doing it, why not me?

I actually don't find this picture that humiliating. I can still identify with the girl in the picture. What I don't get, however, is why my life's ambition ever involved being a roadie for some rock band. I would have taken the roll of groupie too.

So here I am...at some obnoxious rock festival. I was 16 in this picture.

Yes those are tiny camo shorts (with fishnets underneath of course) and yes, my eyes are actually open -- I just have too much black make up on them to tell.

I did, however, manage to score Ginger Fish's autograph at this concert.

And, by the by -- my necklace says "Fuck you". Just in case you were wondering.

I was such a happy girl.

Okay, so: Lots and lots of Snot...and shite

2008-08-23T23:41:00.003-05:00

I haven't posted: the boys were sick with a cold for a while. I think I saw every color of snot known to man...and it call came out of my kids' noses. I think I've also seen every color shite known to man...and it's all come out of my newborn's bum.

On top of battling the common cold -- in August -- I've been dealing with a newborn who cries nearly every second of the day when not asleep. We've been wondering if food allergies are to blame. Is it dairy? Is it gluten? Could it be corn? Maybe it's tomatoes. Oh, I know...I'll just not eat anything and see how that works out. I think he may be allergic to air.

But this entire time, trying as it is, I've had this hymn stuck in my head. So I'm going to post it. Maybe it can be your light at the end of whatever tunnel you're stuck in.

It's a beautiful Irish hymn...and I adore it. If you can, try to find an audio version and listen.

But, for now, let the words be your rock.

Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart,
be all else but naught to me, save that thou art;
be thou my best thought in the day and the night,
both waking and sleeping, thy presence my light.

Be thou my wisdom, be thou my true word,
be thou ever with me, and I with thee Lord;
be thou my great Father, and I thy true son;
be thou in me dwelling, and I with thee one.

Be thou my breastplate, my sword for the fight;
be thou my whole armor, be thou my true might;
be thou my soul's shelter, be thou my strong tower:
O raise thou me heavenward, great Power of my power.

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise:
be thou mine inheritance now and always;
be thou and thou only the first in my heart;
O Sovereign of heaven, my treasure thou art.

High King of heaven, thou heaven's bright sun,
O grant me its joys after victory is won;
great Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
still be thou my vision, O Ruler of all.

Words: Ancient Irish hymn;
trans. Mary Byrne, 1905, and versified by Eleanor Hull, 1912

The muffin binge

2008-08-08T15:14:00.004-05:00

I had some friends come by today. One of them brought (milk free) muffins.

Yesterday, I practically starved to death. Elimination dieting is torture. I just have to say that. This is what I consumed yesterday:

Breakfast: a rice cake and a pear

Lunch: short grain brown rice with sauteed squash and zucchini...with just salt and pepper (and some olive oil).

I decided to let myself have a banana. I mean, what's a banana going to do?

Dinner: Baked sweet potato, like two tiny pieces of chicken, more rice with squash and zucchini.

Later that night...even more rice with squash and zucchini.

I was soooooooo stinking hungry! I mean, really. Look what I had for dinner...while my husband had taco salad. Complete with grated cheese. GRATED CHEESE!!!

So today, when my friends showed up with milk free muffins, I ate like four of them. And let me tell you -- they're the best dang muffins ever. I have more, too.

I'll go back to eliminating tomorrow.

But good gracious, Momma needs to eat, and if I have to look at any more rice, I'm going to vomit.

Not-so Wordless Wednesday

2008-08-06T16:39:00.002-05:00

Once you've looked at today's Wordless Wednesday, read this post...which is obviously not-so wordless.

This past weekend Andi and I decided we were equally sick of the city, so we set out for the in-laws...who, by chance, live in the sticks. It was great. We really wish we lived closer to family. But Andi's profession (and mine -- if I ever go back to it) maintain a close distance to city. We're looking at ways to change that though. More on that later.

Tomorrow I start a very exciting elimination diet. What's an elimination diet? you may ask. Well let me explain. (or you can let Dr. Sears explain) For the next few weeks I'll be eating nothing but rice, rice products, pears, yellow summer squash, zucchini, sweet potatoes and chicken, turkey and pork (I added the pork and chicken in myself -- I don't eat mutton). I'll consume no milk products, nor will I consume any gluten. I'll take in nothing but water, as I couldn't find the prescribed pear juice at the store. After about two weeks time, I'll get to add one new and exciting food (such as GASP! carrots) every four days.

And why am I putting myself through this? No, I'm not on some exciting new fad crash diet. I'm eliminating allergens. Something is making Jude cranky and possibly sick. He's only happy (for the most part) when being held, rocked, or worn in the wrap. He's had terrible diaper rash off and on since he was born. And he's got a rash on his face, although a call to the doctor reassured me that it was most likely just baby acne. Often when he nurses, he screams and pulls away, but acts like he wants to eat more. I know he's still hungry, but I feel like he's in pain. So I've got to find out what's making my poor baby so upset. I suspect milk...but it could be gluten (I'm a huge bread addict, and that would suck). So, this should be a very exciting venture. If nothing else, I'm sure to loose a few more pounds. And despite all the crankiness, he's still sleeping decently at night...only waking to eat every 3-4 hours, nursing, and returning back to sleep promptly. He does have some nights that aren't so easy (like the night I ate nachos for dinner -- he was up every hour all night), but all in all, I think I've got it relatively easy in that department. Now if I could just make him happy during the day.

Speaking of losing weight, I weighed myself at a friend's house yesterday. We don't own a scale for various obsessive reasons. I'm happy to report that I've lost about 30 pounds total so far!!! That's pretty good considering I just had him on the 14th of July. I've only got 25 pounds left to lose! I'm in no rush though. I'm pretty sure consisting solely on rice products will take care of that last bit.

Wish me luck. And drink something exciting for me. Water...Meh.

Wordless Wednesday: Swaddled

2008-08-06T16:32:00.001-05:00

Cannibalism, party of two [year old]

2008-08-01T15:35:00.003-05:00

Ohmyfuckinggoodness.

Today, all I needed, was for my two year old to take a nap. I freaking needed my kid to take a nap like a chain smoker needs another cigarette. I mean, I really needed it. You know, that primal need. Sort of like the same thing that drives a lion to eat meat...ya'. That's the need. That same thing that drives the lion to go kill an antelope was about to push me over the mommy edge and straight into spanking land. Something about a two year old telling you "No, Night night!"

I resisted though. And I resorted to bribery instead. I told him if he went to sleep, Daddy would be home when he woke up. I'm probably lying...unless my husband gets off unusually early, or he sleeps for a long time.

But seriously. I really didn't think either of us would survive. Some days, I really do understand why some species eat their own young.

Momma, Find kee-kee too

2008-07-31T15:41:00.003-05:00

I had to take Jude to the hospital today for some sort of State Newborn Screen. Apparently this is his second one [where was the first one? Hopsital?]. So off I went with a two year old and newborn. To the hospital. To wait. Wait. Wait.

There was this though: While waiting in the lobby to get called back for our paperwork, Adrien spotted the Starbucks kiosk and the cookies therein. Had to have a cookie. He insisted upon screaming and whining at me that he had "Momma, Find kee-kee too" (he now puts the word to or too at the end of every sentence, whether it belongs there or not, and whether or not that's the proper place for it. Yay for prepositions. Is that a preposition? I went to art school...} I reassured him that yes, you found the cookies, but you don't need one. Man, I really wanted one. They looked good. What I really wanted was some sort of hot caffeinated beverage to go with the kee-kee...but alas, I didn't need that either. We finally got called back to admissions. The kee-kees were out of sight. Some scrawny old lady, who really seemed nice enough, did all my paperwork. Zillions of papers to sign. All so they can prick my baby's heel and squeeze the blood out until he screams so much, he stops screaming at all. I hate that, man.

Waiting wasn't too bad though. It's times like these that you park the stroller in front of the television in the waiting room and hope your kid likes soap operas. He didn't. He did, however, like using a pen [stolen from admissions] to color all over himself -- and punch holes in the piece of paper that has the privacy practice policy on it. It was great fun, and at the end of the day I didn't have to put up with too much screaming and I got a tattooed toddler out of it. When we got called into the lab for the blood work, the nurse made mention of Adrien's self doodling. Before she could show too much disdain, I reassured her that it kept him quiet.

Then they all marveled as I unfurled this and out came a baby. People are so fascinated by fabric.

The wonderful smell of motherhood

2008-07-29T13:09:00.004-05:00

The boys are both napping again today. At the same time. Please bitch slap me and tell me not to get too used to it. Really, it's not luck. It's just the fact that Jude's still in his whole Eat-poop-sleep-poop-sleep-eat-eat-eat-sleep-sleep-poop-sleep stage. You know, that stage where a good 10 minutes nursing session is all that's really needed to conk them right out. I mean, I'd be tired too if I had to suck on my boobs. It seems labor-intensive and all.

The most challenging part about this whole I'm-so-new-at-being-the-mother-of-two-at-once thing is that I hate feeling that I can't give them both my all, all at the same time. Logistically I can't be at Adrien's every beck and call while breastfeeding Jude every 2 hours. I mean, I've tried, really. But it's so dang hard on the shoulders. [Hunching over in the floor with a 9 pound newborn attached to your nipple to push some Hot Wheels around is no small feat.] I also feel guilty for cuddling with Jude because that means (most of the time) that I can't cuddle with Adrien at that moment...either for fear that Adrien will squash the little guy, or just because Adrien doesn't want to. And yet, at the same time, I feel a little guilty for not being able to pay Jude the same amount of one-on-one attention that Adrien got when he was a newborn.

I know, I know. It's all normal, and it will pan out. I'll get used to the swing of things and Adrien will too...Jude will never know that he missed anything. I know. But still. That mothering guilt again.

So here I sit, covered from head to toe in breast milk residue and probably wreaking of a million different stenches...both boys are napping. I really should be bathing.

It just seems like such a waste of personal time.

Miracle of all Miracles

2008-07-28T13:32:00.003-05:00

The boys are napping at the same time today!

And yes, he looks awake. But the camera temporarily woke him up. He's currently snoozing.

Dropping in

2008-07-25T13:10:00.003-05:00

So today is the first time my 2 year has taken a nap in a week. Since he's been home, he hasn't been napping (due to doctor's appointments, or whatever) and so therefore he hasn't been sleeping well at night. My poor husband's been sleeping on the couch with him every night just about, because he wakes up wanting to sleep in our bed. With Jude rooming-in in our room, that would just be a disaster. So out to the couch they go.

I'm hoping to be able to blog more as time goes by. I'm nabbing a little bit of time today to type up a bit for you guys. Jude's doing well. At this point, I think he's sleeping better at night than his big brother. His eating is just great! Breastfeeding is going well for me this time, and it makes me feel super guilty for not trying harder to succeed with Adrien. When we left the hospital, Jude had some jaundice that ended up getting relatively bad. On top of the normal jaundice baby's get (which his level was only 6 at discharge) our blood types were different, and apparently that makes it worse as my 0+ was attacking his B+..but we've resolved that matter. I think his peak bilirubin (spell check, y'all) level was 14.5...but that was last Friday and on Monday it had dropped to 11, so we're in the clear. He's finally starting to turn pink and not look so much like I dropped him in a vat of fake tanner.

This past Wednesday I had to take him to the doctor to have his circumcision looked at (it was pretty inflamed afterward and we had to use an antibiotic cream -- that BTW, the insurance wouldn't cover because he hadn't been on our plan for 30 days -- um, HELLO! Newborn! Whatev.) His wee-wee is all taken care of now. This morning I found that his belly button was bleeding. A call to the doctor assured me that it's fine as long as it doesn't continue to bleed. So let's keep our finger's crossed.

So everything is going along just great! As soon as I can post more, I definitely will!

Thanks for all the well-wishes! :)

Love y'all!

Hey, Jude.

2008-07-15T22:37:00.003-05:00

Jude Elijah was born Monday morning, July 14 at 10:58 a.m.

He weighed in at a whopping 8 pounds and 5.3 ounces, and measured 20 inches in length.

Everybody say, awwwwwwwwwwwwwww, y'all

My kid beat your kid up

2008-07-08T14:01:00.003-05:00

I took Adrien to the mall today. Big surprise, I know. But it's an indoor playground and it's already been 100 degree here for a month (at least).

His favorite thing to play on there is this little car. It seats about 3 kids. Adrien climbed in with two other kids and automatically this little girl who was probably around 3 or 4 years old starts being really nasty and telling him to get out. He kept playing and just said "no." Somewhere around five minutes later the little girl is on top of the car's hood and Adrien is inside the car. She's STILL telling him to get out -- with her face being about a centimeter from his. I was looking around for her parents. I mean -- intervention, please? Adrien was tolerating it so I didn't step in. I was really waiting for this little brat's parents to do something. I finally figured out that she was there with who I'm assuming is her grandpa.

Finally Adrien got tired of her being in his face and he hauled off and punched her. Straight in the nose. She backed off. I was kind of astonished -- he usually doesn't hit unless he's just playing too rough and gets really excited. Rarely does he hit out of anger, and generally when a kid's being mean to him he just moves on to something else. I immediately rushed over, but before I could even get there the little girl was already looking at me and in a whiny tone she was all like "He punched me..." I just looked at her and said simply "You were being mean too." Then I got Adrien and we left the play area.

During this little conflict, I noticed her grandpa looking at me all like "Look what your kid just did!" I'm sorry, but I have no sympathy for her. She'd been antagonizing him for a good five to seven minutes. I wanted to punch her myself long before Adrien did. And on top of it, had her grandpa stepped in and told her to play nicer, Adrien wouldn't have been pushed over the edge.

As much as I feel like hitting is wrong, I feel like he was justified in it. She'd been nagging at him and taunting him for quite a while -- imagine how long 5 minutes is to a two year old. She's probably almost twice his age. I didn't know what to do besides leave the play area. I didn't want to not do something about his behavior...but at the same time I hate punishing him for defending himself. After all, she was being a real bitch.

What would you do? How do you feel about your kids sticking up for themselves?

My kid can outbowl your kid

2008-06-30T14:32:00.004-05:00

My two year old plays the Wii. So while you sit there all smug because your drool spitting toddler can play Beethoven's IV and shit on the toilet, I'm perfectly happy that my kid could kick your kid's ass at Wii bowling any day of the week. Bring it on.

Randomness

2008-06-19T14:44:00.002-05:00

Still too tired to post.

But here's a pic of my new glasses...

I'm going to the doctor every week now. Generally that's a great milestone in a pregnancy -- the end is near. But my doc is an hour's drive away. I mean, not that it's really that far mileage wise...but traffic wise, it stinks. Let's hope I can get to the hospital on time when I go into labor. Otherwise, I'll be like that lady in Colorado I saw on the news this morning.

So now I'll drive an hour or more every week just so the doctor can tell me that the baby's head is still down and no, ma'am, you're not dilated nor effaced yet. At all.

The grocery store is having a great summer produce sale...the organics are on sale too. I could really go for some strawberries. Mmmm.

Excuses, excuses.

2008-06-13T18:08:00.002-05:00

Oh my goodness! Seriously. It's been entirely too long. I went without internet for a week. I mean, I'm completely aware it's been longer than a week since I last updated. But hello! If you knew how big my stomach is, you'd forgive me. I mean, and really...I live in Texas...in the summer. Misery.

Currently I'm feeling pretty nauseous and miserable. Tired is an understatement. I was kicked out of my own comfy pillow top bed by my two year old last night, and was relegated to sleeping on the couch. Um yes. The couch. It's not really a question of whether my belly fits on it or not, it's more of how it fits on there. I defy physics.

So, when I get some more time on my hands -- and really, I had 3 nice days where my mom kept my kid this past week -- I will blog. [And yes, those three days were spent internet-less.]

In the meantime, I've figured out that if you take away my kid and my internet, I have no life. I mean, truly. Isn't that the definition of pathetic? Most likely. And yet, I raise this excuse again: Summer in Texas; Pregnant.

It's all the excuse I need.

Movies, Barbie and Shopping...

2008-05-28T13:52:00.003-05:00

It was such a long weekend. I mean, not that I'm complaining. It just wore me out a bit. What was supposed to be a one night trip to the in-laws ended up being a two nighter. It was great though. Adrien loves his grandparents. I wish he was as happy all the time here as he is when we're there. I just wish he'd sleep a little better there. Oh well.

Friday night the in-laws watched Adrien for us so we could go out on a date. We are so cinema starved that we went all out and saw two movies. We had dinner first, of course. I was sad that traffic was too bad to make it to Chinese, but we settled on salads at Olive Garden instead. Eh. I still want the Chinese. The waitress brought me Coke instead of peach tea as a refill, and I'm still wanting my peach tea, too. I love that stuff. Oh well. A girl can't have it all.

We saw Chronicles of Narnia first and then we sat through Indiana Jones. Narnia was great! We're big nerds like that [big kids too], so we love that stuff. Although my husband has read all the Narnia books -- I, of course, have not. So I'd definitely recommend Narnia. It does have a few parts that are kind of heavy for young kids, but if they can handle a little death and destruction in battle scenes, go for it! [Disney movies are allowed to show someone getting their head chopped off?!? AWESOME!] They don't show anything too harsh. Indiana Jones, on the other hand, I could have done without. I mean, it was a decent movie...but really. It took them that long to come up with that story line? It was far fetched at best [even judging by the myths surrounding the actual crystal skulls] and the story line was really shoddy. Given that it is, after all, an Indiana Jones movie, I'll say it was just alright. I mean, you can't expect an epic of great proportions. One of Andi's friend's put it best as mildly entertaining. But that was it for me -- mild entertainment [coupled with extreme discomfort by theater chairs that recline at an odd angle].

My niece's birthday party was Saturday. Other than my sister in law [Aerobics Barbie], I don't think I've ever seen so many rail-thin women in my life. My niece was turning 5, and all of her friend's mothers seem to share the same sentiment about food as my SIL does: It's apparently evil, not to be touched with a ten foot pole. On top of it, I was really looking forward to the water activities planned for that afternoon...but after sizing up Barbie in her teeny tiny baby bump, no stretch mark having, pregnant in a bikini self, I decided to let everyone else have the fun. I wasn't plopping into my larger than life maternity swim suit next to that. Andi said it was sickening to see his SIL pregnant and bikini sporting. But I have to admit, if I still looked that good, I'd be wearing one too...that is if my stomach wasn't as big as it actually is. She, however, looks like she drank too much soda or something. Is there really a baby in there? I guess Barbie does come pregnant these days.

And now today I'm left doing things I really ought to have done yesterday had I not been awakened entirely too early by a sleep walking toddler who was apparently trying to get into our air vent. I'm making my shopping list...which I always think will be the death of me. I try the whole coupon thing -- really. But it's just exhausting. Endless research goes into what I put on my list, and I always end up feeling like I've penned the check for my final resting place. What goes on the list stays, and when I check out, I gotta pay! I mean, it's brutal really. I hate paying for groceries! Not to mention, I'm just too picky to buy all the crap food. Coupons don't come out for the organic stuff. Ugh. Here I go again...signing my life ~~savings~~ away to the food mart.

Such a complainer, I am.

2008-05-22T14:03:00.002-05:00

Why I always feel like I have to cram as much "me-time" as possible into nap time is beyond me. Well not beyond. Let's face it -- when else do I get "me time"? Lately I've just been feeling a little gypped. All I have energy for is to lay down and take a nap myself. Quality me time? Sure. But every day? Seriously, there has to be something more quality than a nap. Granted, sleep is mucho importante -- especially when pregnant. But exciting? No. I wake up feeling like I've wasted all 2-3 hours of precious golden me-time with my eyes shut.

No! I feel like me time should be used...for useful things. Like...well, I'm not sure. But something. I have precious little time to explore my own interests as it is, and to be reduced as having my number one priority as sleep? Well it just makes me feel a little bland. Don't get me wrong, I know full well that resting is important. Here in a few months I'll be complaining that I don't have a chance to nap -- nor will I have the chance for long while coming.

A nap just seems so wasteful and lazy.

But here I go. To my bed. It's nap time, man. And I'm pooped.

Showers go green!

2008-05-21T14:06:00.006-05:00

At the OB's office today, I happened upon an issue of this magazine. In it, there was an article about how to throw a Green Wedding. I'm long past that phase of life, but a friend of mine just offered to throw me a baby shower the other day. Wondering how I could incorporate a green concept into the little shindig, I Googled. This is what I found. Leave it to a celeb to do it first. Not that I thought I'd be the first, but you know...

The concept of a second baby shower is taboo to a lot of people. One of my friends in particular thinks it's just downright strange and not normal [direct quote], but I think she's warming to the idea a bit more since she's also expecting. Down here in the south it's commonplace to have a shower for nearly every child you have. I think people here just like to have a reason to get together and eat, actually. But to us, every child is a celebration -- and that's the way it should be. Now, I'm not saying you go out and have a huge bash for every successive child you shoot out of your hooha, but you know...a little acknowledgment for the kid is in order. I also don't think you should go and throw yourself a baby shower either. I mean, if it's your first -- go ahead. But when friends of mine started asking when my shower was going to be, I would just tell them flat out, I don't know. I'm not going to be like, "Hey buy me stuff..." And I still refuse to do that. Had my friend not offered the other day, I suppose I just flat out wouldn't be having a shower at all -- and that'd be fine too. So anyway, a second or successive baby shower is thrown on eggshells in my life, I suppose.

So anyway, thinking of ways to make my shower eco-friendly is just so darn exciting to me...but I feel like a few of the tips (like asking people to not wrap in wrapping paper) will just be a pain in their arse. I already feel a little awkward having this shower anyway, so I really don't want to ask too much of people. However, it's my shower and is it really being absolutely evil to be eco-friendly about it? I already feel a little like I may have to take the planning into my own hands. The friend that offered to throw it for me hasn't even responded to a email I sent her about it a few days back. Granted, she did tell me yesterday she in fact got the email. Her first offer was to throw the shower (which, she mentioned as "nothing big", fine in my book) the first weekend in June. I thought that was just a wee too soon, and have asked for second or third weekend options instead.

I guess what I'm getting at here is this: It's a second baby shower. It's not supposed to be anything big, so is it acceptable to have a theme like "eco-friendly"? And why do I feel like it will be putting my guests out. I don't want people to be like "She's so damn picky. Why's this a big deal?" But here's the thing: it is a big deal to me. Adrien wasn't a planned pregnancy...not that it means he was any less wanted than this baby is...but it is different. The shower I got for Adrien was not ideal (and I'm really trying not to come off as ungrateful). A friend of mine threw the part for me last time and it was held at my absolute least favorite restaurant. It was a "surprise" party (that I figured out) and I had zero say in what happened at it. My friend had some of those kitschy overdone shower games -- that I really detest -- and there was this creepy clown working at the restaurant that attempted to make me a balloon figurine of a pregnant woman...YES! Don't ask, it was the single most disturbing thing in my life so far [It came complete with fetus].

Blah, so anyway. Do you guys think it would be too much to have the whole shindig go down my way this time? I'm feeling a tad bit uneasy with my friend being as busy as she is and offering to throw this shower for me. I'm just so afraid that it's going to fall by the wayside and end up like my last shower. All I really want is one good, normal life experience.

But I don't want it to make me Miss Fussy-Ungrateful-Pants. Am I being that way?

Wordless Wednesdays: Outdoor Fun

2008-05-21T13:57:00.004-05:00

Save the Planet; Kill the Ants!

2008-05-19T15:24:00.005-05:00

So lately (and if you follow my Twitter -- and you should -- you may have noticed my complaints) I've been finding ants in my house. I'm generally a gracious hostess, but ants just have to go. Seriously. It's frustrating. At first I couldn't seem to figure out where they were coming from...and I still can't completely. I'd find a random two or three here or there. Everywhere. At first they were mostly in my kitchen in random spots -- a few on the countertop, a few on the floor...I even found a few random ones in my master bathroom. The bathroom was a real mystery since it's at the opposite end of the house from where the majority of the rest of them were (my kitchen).

So anyway, I was doing what I could. I'd smash the random few I found at any given point and end up finding some more in another place later. Then, yesterday, they were out in abundance...all over my kitchen counter. There would be three or four and I'd deal with those only to have three or four more replace them a short while later. Even with me sitting and watching the countertop they just seemed to be appearing out of thin air...but I think I finally figured out that they are coming from somewhere behind our dishwasher. I ran the dishwasher and I haven't seen any since. It had been a while since the thing had been turned on...and I guess the ants just flat out don't like the heat, noise or vibrations generated by the dishwasher. I haven't found any in the kitchen since.

This morning Adrien wanted me to play with him in his room. I noticed an ant running along a base board beside his bed. Upon closer inspection, I found quite a few ants. Once again I couldn't figure out where they were coming from. Damn things. One would be running one direction while another was going some other way. I told Adrien to stay out of his room. He kept saying "Room -- ouchie." [He's come to thing all bugs are "ouchie" and refers to them as such. When he was younger I'd just point out bugs and says "Those are ouchies, don't touch" so that I wouldn't find him playing with one of the lovely poisonous spiders or chasing one of the many wasps we have around here. So now, even lady bugs are "ouchie" to him. Fine with me.]

So I remember seeing a sign outside of a local organic lawn supply store the other day that was touting organic insecticides. I looked them up online and gave them a ring. I drove straight over to buy the stuff.

Apparently there's an organic orange-based household cleaner that is an ant deterrent. I also picked up some outdoor insecticide to spray around as well so that we could find the ant mounds outside and kill them there. Together I was out only around $30, which in my opinion is well worth it. Both are dillutable and so they should last quite a while. I came straight home and mixed some of the orange cleaner up and started attempting to clean Adrien's room so I could wipe down the base boards. By the time I got home all the ants were gone, so who knows where they went or where they came from, but hopefully they won't come back. Upon moving Adrien's bed, I did however find a nice little culprit -- a half eaten chunk of cereal bar...although there weren't any ants on it.

The orange cleaner also does a great job at cleaning the countertops! Since I was having an issue with the ants in the kitchen I just went ahead and wiped down all my countertops with the stuff.

I'm super excited about the outdoor insecticide as well. In addition to killing and repelling ants, it also works on spiders and a host of other nasty little creepy crawlies. I do so hate the creepy crawlies (namely ants and spiders). It will also be safe to use on the little container garden my Mom got me. That'll be nice since I found some rather large red ants trying to invade my planter a few days back.

And I'll leave you with this cute little picture of Adrien taken yesterday afternoon. We play barefoot in the backyard daily, so I just don't want any harmful insects tearing my baby's tootsies up. I also don't want any nasty chemicals out there.

This Blog Sucks

2008-05-17T08:00:00.002-05:00

So I'm trying to get in as much extra sleep as possible before the baby comes. And not that it's any excuse, but that's a huge reason why this blog hasn't been up-kept with as much finesse as it has been in months past. I mean, I do realize it's been lacking for quite a while -- did I even post for the entire month of December? I don't remember. There was one month that went missing. Anyway, this is my pathetic attempt -- in a roundabout way -- to say that my blog sucks lately. Seriously, it does.

I mean, who wants to read a blog with only one to two posts a week? I need to step it up, dude. And I will.

...right after I finish storing up my excess sleep for the long year ahead. This baby better sleep better than Adrien did. Oh wait -- any sleep at all would be an improvement. Adrien didn't sleep through the night until he was a year old. Seriously. I was a zombie for an entire year. That's hotness.

Other things that I think have lead to the decline of my blog is my lack of bitch. Do you remember a time when I was miss bitch? Hence the double entendre of my screenname -- b. ~~Oh wait, you never got that?~~ I had that whole anonymous comment bit and somehow I managed to back down a few months later. Nothing like some mean commenting to burst your blogger bubble.

On top of it, we all know I parted ways with my play group -- whom for some time held quite a place in my writing. I mean, what with all the character archetypes to be had and all. And who could forget Wholesome-living Guru? I mean, she was a classic for a while. But sadly, I've got not one left to make fun of now...and a constant stream of baby-blogging just bores the shit out of me. [And forgive me because I'm tired of sifting through my archives to find any Wholesome-living Guru posts to link to.]

So anyway, that's my laundry list of excuses for the apparently lacking of my blog. I think my blog is tired -- like one of those old ladies who hasn't changed her style of dress in decades. It needs a makeover.

My husband's a web designer...hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

I got Mom-Butt

2008-05-14T13:36:00.005-05:00

Sorry for the lack of updates. I was on my feet all day last Friday and Saturday either getting ready for the party or having the party. Seriously, it was like the party that wouldn't end. The official start time for it was 11:30. Friends came in around 11:30 or 12 that day, my Mom and stepdad came around 12:30 or so and Andi's family didn't show up until sometime after 2 or 3 that afternoon. Adrien didn't nap the entire day (why would he?), around 6pm or so we were looking for a way to keep him up a few more hours. My Mom suggested that maybe we go out to eat, so we did. Needless to say, my Mom didn't leave to go back home until after 8 that night. Seriously -- party that didn't end.

My Mother's Day went well! I didn't have to pack up and leave. My husband didn't really well this year -- unlike last year. I got a present from Adrien, one from Jude and one from him. I collect these little statues and the boys each "gave" me one. Adrien "got" me this one and Jude "got" me this one. Andi got me a $50 gift certificate to Motherhood Maternity. My Mom bought me a cherry tomato plant, some sweet basil and some mint along with a planter and some organic top soil. She loved her gifts, btw. She had no clue how cheap they were.

Mother's Day also happened to be my day to teach the "Godly Play" at church for the children. That's where the children aged kindergarten through sixth grade go when they leave the sanctuary after the children's sermon. It's basically a mini church service that's on the kid's level. I was so anxious about it. I'd been reassured that I would have two youth-aged helpers in the classroom with me. Low and behold, I didn't. I made it through just fine though. Piece of cake. Not that I want to do it again though. Not at all.

So anyway, I've been trying to recover from Adrien's party since we had it. I was on my feet so much that I've started to feel like my pelvis is splitting in two. I remember getting to some point in my pregnancy with Adrien and feeling like that, but I remember it being much further along than this. I think this baby's going to come out early. He's absolutely huge. At least I hope that's him making me so big. I hope it's not just me...who knows though. Pregnancy is the perfect disguise for a less than flat tummy. And mine was nowhere near flat to begin with. I think I see a tummy tuck somewhere in my future.

It's been raining for the majority of the week. Today there was a pause in the storms, so I took Adrien to the mall to play. We were caged up all day yesterday in the house because of the weather, so it was nice to get out. I was determined to leave the house today. Plus I've got the gift card to use. I ended spending like $13 off of it. I just refuse to pay so much for clothes I won't be able to wear much longer. Not to mention the fact that most of it doesn't fit me. All the shirts are too short for my humongous stomach. I already own the only pair of shorts from that store that don't give me total mom-butt syndrome. Maybe I'll just save the money on the card and buy some nice nursing tops or bras. I'll be able to get more use out of those. They have some cute nursing jammies there. I could always get some of those. It just always makes me nervous to shop in that place unless my favorite salesgirl is working. The store is so small and so jam packed with everything that you feel claustrophobic and followed. It's like a million and a half tie-in-the-back shirts have you backed into a corner demanding you revert to some sort of frumpy state of fashion.

I'm pooped. Think I'll go nap now.

Big Bouncy Birthday Bash

2008-05-13T14:54:00.002-05:00

The potential of possibility

2008-05-07T22:56:00.002-05:00

Sometimes I get so upset about life in general. Mostly, I just get so jealous of my husband. Is that normal? I don't know. I just get to where I feel like he has all these little "extras" in his life. He has a great career [whereby he actually uses his education and follows his dreams]. He has an iPhone. He has a laptop on loan to him from his job. He can decide to go buy himself new clothes with no guilt. He decides when he's going to do what, and with whom he's going to do it with. He has a wife who cooks for him. He has a wife who raises his kids. He has a wife who gives up a lot for everyone else in her life.

I just get so mad sometimes and I hold it all against him. Yes, I even hold his iPhone against him. I hold the money he gets to spend guilt free on whatever he deems appropriate against him. Why? Because I don't have that luxury. I feel guilty about everything. I live with guilt. And to get around it, I just give things up. I don't demand much...and the only extras I get are things like the extra few servings of brownies I eat throughout the day, or the few minutes here and there I steal to get online while Adrien's occupied during the day. I just bottle it all up I guess. And then I just end up letting it all out in little spurts...and when anyone asks what's wrong I say nothing.

So this is me admitting that I'm jealous of my husband and all the little things he has. Everything he has that I don't. It just pisses me off some days. What about all the stuff that I want?

Pssht. Want? What does that even mean? I relegate that to daydreaming about the potential of possibility.

Happy Happy Birthday!

2008-05-05T22:29:00.004-05:00

Today was Adrien's second birthday. I can't believe he's two already! Seriously...where's the time go? By the time the next one is two, Adrien will be four! That's even more insane to me.

Andi took off work today for Adrien's birthday since he was gone all weekend. We originally planned on going to the zoo, but there was a 70% chance of rain in the forecast, so we opted for something indoors. And since Adrien's obsessed with fish, we thought we'd do an aquarium. Being such cheap skates, we opted for the $4/person aquarium here in town, as opposed to the $20/person one. I just figured it was cheap because it's owned by the zoo. No. No such luck. It was one room. With dimly lit tanks. They didn't even have all the tanks filled with fish. A good percentage of the tanks had "temporarily out of exhibit" signs on them. To top it off, half way through our little walk around the room, a huge group of high school kids came in and it was just too loud and crowded to enjoy what there was to see. Adrien did like the clown fish though. He got a kick out of Nemo.

After that we had lunch at Whataburger. Mmmmm. Their onion rings are phenomenal. Seriously, lunch was way better than the aquarium. After Adrien's nap we went out and picked up some stuff for his birthday party. Remind me why these things cost so much? It'll be fun though, so it will be worth it. I had to send reminder evites out today asking people to please not respond with a "maybe". We had a total of 17 people (counting adults and children) on the "maybe" list. That's just too big a margin. I need to know whether to have 10 favor bags and cupcakes or 20. I mean, there's a big difference there. So as it stands now, there actually aren't many kids coming to the party. But I'm totally cool with that because Adrien will get more time in the bounce house. We topped the day off with dinner at Olive Garden. Does it get any better than soup, salad and breadsticks? I think not.

My Mom didn't even call to tell Adrien happy birthday today. Well, she called...at 9:15 tonight. She was totally going to call earlier, but you know. It's all about her and how hectic her day was. She just had one of those days. Just ask her. Oh wait, you won't have to ask her, because she'd tell you before you even knew what hit you. She's one of those people. I actually think I might do a blog series about her this week...you know, with Mother's Day coming up and all. I've had some real peeves I want to blow off about my family lately. I think that might help. Oh, and my Mom just hopes that this is allergies she's getting...after all she'd just hate to miss Adrien's party on Saturday. But that's her -- always sick at the most convenient of times.

There were some positives today though. We were sorting some stuff at the house today during Adrien's nap and I found a box of souvenirs a friend had bought be a long time ago while he was deployed (yes, I'm speaking the military lingo). I've always collected foreign currency -- but mainly the coinage. He'd apparently seen it fit to get me nearly every bill available in Australia. I had a 100 AUD, 50 AUD, 20 AUD, 10 AUD and a 5 AUD. I checked the exchanged rate and took it to the bank. I made out really well! That was really nice of him! I mean, little does he know, but he's buying the new baby some stuff. Thanks, dude! Adrien had a good day, so that was good. He doesn't really know the extent of suckage caused by the aquarium trip. We also went to Target today, where I found a plethora or Mother's Day gifts for my Mom on the cheap side. I heart the dollar spot! She loves gardening, so I got her a spade, one of those three pronged hoe things, a set of garden gloves, a sun visor, shears, a matt for her knees and a package of "butterfly garden" seeds for just a few bucks. She better like it. But who knows, with her. Oh, and did I mention all the stuff matches? It's all color coordinated. If you haven't gotten your Mom anything yet, I'd say to check out the dollar crap at Target. I mean, what've you got to lose? Not money! You get a bunch of cheap stuff and throw it into a nice little basket, and SHAZAM! it looks fancy.

Must be the waffle fries

2008-05-02T22:46:00.003-05:00

It was another exciting day in My-Husband-is-Out-of-Town Land. I went to the mall. Again. But this time, I shopped. Fret ye not! French fries and play time were to be had too.

Andi totally said it'd be okay to get some pants that fit. So I did. Well I got shorts. And two tank tops.

I had to go up a size from what I was wearing.

...and even my stretch marks are getting stretch marks.

Totally stimulating

2008-05-01T14:11:00.003-05:00

Last week I went with a friend to a MOPS group to see this lady talk about children's brain development and how to stimulate their budding minds with outings. She was really interesting. I got some great ideas and info. She did, however, make a sideways comment on taking your kids to a mall play area for an outing. She said something like, "if that's your idea of an outing..." and something about "you can find something that doesn't involve french fries or red stuff to dip them in..."

Well, lady, I guess I'm just not that creative.

Today we went to the mall to play. And we ate (GASP!) french fries...with red stuff to dip them in. Actually, I dip my fries in yellow stuff, but that's beside the point. I just had to get out of the house. Over the course of the last few weeks, the outings Adrien and I take are mainly just to go grocery shopping and run general errands. Other than that, we (GASP! again) sit at home and mostly (yes, MOSTLY) play in the living room with the TV on. We do go out in the back yard. Sometimes. But you can only have so much fun in such a tiny space. I can only stand to dodge wasps and spiders for so long. And dammit if it hasn't been ridiculously hot out already this year. I'm having a hard time staying cool inside, so outside in humid 80 degree weather for too long is just out of the picture for this huge pregnant lady. So yes, today we went to the mall.

It was fun. The Chik fil-a was good. We had to leave the play area after about 20 minutes or so though because (as usual) Adrien decides it's a fun game to run out of the play area and into the mall so that I chase him. He did it twice, and on the third run out, we left and went home. That's okay, it was nap time anyway.

The cardiologist put me on an Alpha/Beta blocker not too long back. Because of travel, etc. I didn't get the prescription filled until this week. Two doses in, I had to stop taking it. It was making me jittery and my hands were shaking. On top of it, the fact that some online information stated that the medicine had not been found safe for use in pregnancy was unsettling to me. All information I read on the drug said that it should only be used in pregnancy when absolutely necessary. So then it's strange to me that when I called my cardiologist to ask about my horrible side effects, he said to stop taking it because I wasn't taking it for any "safety" hazards. Meaning, it wasn't a life or death matter. So why was I on the medicine to begin with? Oh well. The last dose I took was yesterday morning (it's a twice a day drug), and I still woke up this morning feeling dizzy. I feel a little dizzy now, actually. Oh well, it's a relief that I'm not on it, I just wish there was a safe and effective way to make my heart act right. So goes life...

Andi's leaving town again this weekend. He leaves early in the morning to drive 8 hours away with a bunch of guys from church for a men's conference. There's no doubt he'll have a ton of fun...but I'll be stuck at home by my lonesome for three days. He won't be returning until late Sunday. I'm definitely not looking forward to those three days. But again...so goes life...

Monday is Adrien's birthday. Andi took Monday off to celebrate Adrien's birthday since he'll be gone all weekend. I don't know what we're going to do yet. We may go to the zoo or something like that. I want to do something exciting and out of the ordinary. That lady would be proud of me -- I'm sure zoos rank high on her list of stimulating activities.

Adrien's birthday party will be next Saturday. We did the cliche thing: got a bounce house. We'll have hot dogs. There will be cake. Some friends of mine from my wee schooldays will be coming into town to visit that weekend too!

And dammit, if my husband neglects Mother's day again this year, I may have to pack up and leave...at least temporarily anyway. Nothing's ever made me feel so shitty as last year's Mother's day. My husband had told me that he "didn't realize it was so important." Pssh. Well I'm getting all teary eyed just thinking about that.

Blah.

OH and joy of all joys, my sister in law (Aerobics Barbie) just found out she's having a boy too. In September. Let's give a big cheer for the comparisons that will be made about our two kids. However, on the up side: she did NOT want a boy...so the discomfort she feels over that small matter is very exciting to me. I know, shame on me. I think they're planning to name the poor kid Jackson Cheslie (yes, Cheslie is the middle name). Not that I don't think Jackson's a cute name (I totally do), it's just that she informed me that she (under no circumstances) wants the kid to be called Jack for short. She'd rather have him called JC. Poor kid, he'll forever be confused with a boy band member.

I think I'll have to call him Jack.

Diggin' for dinos

2008-04-29T12:17:00.003-05:00

Oh my gosh. Exhaustion.

I got back my trip to Mom's okay. Well, I mean, if you don't count my loss of sanity while there. It was a decent trip, but I spent most of the time flat out frustrated and exhausted. I got there late Wednesday afternoon after a chaotic trip with a cranky toddler who decided listening to the radio is evil. I mean, he didn't even want to listen to the Sirius kid's channel. Whatever -- I didn't either. But I could have at least used some good 80's music. Oh well. So I got there Wednesday afternoon and it was Friday before my Mom decided it was okay to "do something" with me and Adrien. What was supposed to be a Friday morning excursion turned into us leaving around noon and driving over an hour to the nearest biggish city (a suburb of Houston).

We took Adrien to a satellite location of the Houston Museum of Natural Science which, oddly enough, is located in a shopping mall. My Mom got a little frustrated because Adrien didn't want to stay still for a second and half to stand by the triceratops skeleton for a picture. I mean, he's two! What two year old wants to stand and pose for Grandma when there are things to explore? I think she was dually frustrated with me for not forcing him to stay put for a picture. To me it just wasn't worth the fit it would induce.

[On a side note, he was on quite the roll that day. I think he managed to get the entire restaurant to pay attention to him when we went to eat lunch. On the way to the museum he'd fallen asleep in the car. We'd planned to eat lunch before our museum trip, and shortly before we got to the restaurant he woke up with a bad dream. He was just in a bad mood. He was calmed down by pushing his stuffed monkey around in his stroller on the way to the restaurant, but there was hell to pay when it came time to sit in the high chair. He just didn't want to. He wanted to push that damn monkey all over the restaurant in his little umbrella stroller.]

Anyway, after the museum -- which he LOVED -- he got to dig for dinosaurs. This place has this awesome area with rubber mulch serving for dirt, and there are actual dinosaur skeletons (yes, I realize they're just casts of actual skeletons) to dig for. Although he didn't quite grasp the concept of digging for something, he totally gets the digging part. He had so much fun. At the end there was a "prize dig" and he got to "excavate" a toy dinosaur. He held that little dino all the way home -- where he finally took another nap.

Unfortunately I don't have pictures of the trip to the museum and dino dig because Andi had my camera with him in New Orleans, however my Mom did take her camera. As soon as I can get her send me some copies, I'll post them! Although she swears she has no access to the internet. Boon. Docks.

Leaving...

2008-04-23T09:30:00.003-05:00

Hey guys --

I'll be out of town until Saturday. I'm going to see my Mom and Grandpa in some teeny tiny little bitty town in the middle of nowhere, so don't expect a blog post. I'm not sure if their internet is working (or if they even know what a computer is), but I'll be back soon enough.

If you just HAVE to have a fix, enjoy the archives.

Jane's Observations: The inherent competition of the socialized mother

Corn Syrup = Poison

Gosh. WHAT happened to my writing skills? I think I used them all up in those two posts.

Have a great week!

I'm no marriage counselor, but...

2008-04-21T13:35:00.003-05:00

So game night went well. I don't think it was as lively as it usually is for some reason. I think we'd all had those kinds of weeks. I know I sure had. The food went off without a hitch -- well if you don't count the failed onion ring recipe I was trying (I improved with some impromptu beer batter though!) or the fact that I didn't get food down until about an hour after everyone had gotten here. Thankfully no one minded. My time management was just not-so-much on Friday. Oh well, it was fun!

Everyone filed out and left around 11 or so that night. One of my friends stayed...until 2am. Not that I minded at all. Andi and I had a great time chatting with her. She was blowing off some steam about her husband. Her marriage is in a shaky spot. It was a bit awkward though, but not because she was sharing her trials and tribulations -- mostly because I'd never given that sort of advice before. I mean, sure. I've counseled many of my friends on their boyfriends before; but marriage advice? I don't think I've ever actually given any marriage advice. It was just strange.

This friend of mine is one part of a couple that my husband and I hang out with quite frequently. It's not to say that Andi and I couldn't smell the trouble brewing with these two long ago -- it's more like we've just been astonished that she's been putting up with it for so long. I was even starting to think that she was tolerant. And if she was -- great. It's just to say that I'd never tolerate that sort of behavior from Andi. But apparently, all the toleration has been really getting to her. And while it doesn't make me happy that they're having problems, it is almost a sigh of relief for me to know she's aware that she doesn't need to put up with the sort of behavior her husband exhibits. Andi is friends with this guy and he's even on her side of things. Of course we're trying not to take "sides" as far as they're concerned...but in private, we do of course.

These two just had a new baby at the end of December...they were only just married last September. You see where I'm going with this, right? Since the baby was born, this girl's husband has changed maybe three diapers...and I think I'm being generous there. He refuses to. On top of it, he's tried to brag about that to me and Andi. We tell him he's a jackass.

Friday night, my friend explained to me through sobs that the other night he'd picked up their baby girl from day care. For whatever reason, my friend didn't arrive home until 11 or so at night, and when she arrived home to the apartment, she found her baby still in her car seat. He had neglected to change her diaper, change her clothes, feed her a bedtime bottle or even just remove her from her car seat. He saw no problem with this. He'd been home with the baby quite a few hours. This sort of thing happens constantly.

He also told her that he'd never apologize to her before they were married.

One night he went out at 11:30pm to get a tattoo of all things, not returning home until 1:30 in the morning.

She said the other day she asked him if he thought she was disgusting and he couldn't even look at her. He ignored the question.

As best I could, I tried to boil a lot of his behavior down to the fact that it's normal in the first year of marriage. But it's not. I wasn't trying to side with him or sugarcoat anything, but my friend is getting down to her last straw. She's contemplated leaving already. I just didn't know the right thing to say. I didn't want to say the wrong thing. Had I said how I really felt about the situation, I might have added fuel to the fire, and that's not what I want to do. I don't want to encourage the break up of a marriage...but as a friend, I can't stand to see her being treated this way.

It's just such a heavy situation. My parents divorced when I was two, got back together and finally split up again when I was 7 or so. I didn't grow up with the best vision of marriage to look at. I just don't feel so sure giving marriage advice. It's such a major topic, and I -- by far -- am no expert.

Andi and I saw this couple again on Saturday. Despite the fact that my friend told me they argued for a good two hours after she'd finally arrived home Friday night, they acted like everything was A-OK.

What's a friend to do? I want to tell her the full extent about how I feel about her husband and the way he treats her. But I don't want to be responsible in aiding the failure of their marriage.

It's game night! Yeehaw!!!

2008-04-18T13:08:00.003-05:00

It's game night tonight! Yay! And just in case you were wondering, which I know you were, I finally decided on a theme. Good thing, right? I mean, it is tonight and all. Anyway, I kinda decided to do a southern tea party. Sweet tea, peach tea, lemonade, mini barbecue sandwiches, home made onion rings, baked beans and of course pineapple upside down cake. I can't wait for that stinkin' cake! I baked it last night. Mmmmm. I'll also have some baby carrots, cucumbers and french bread with some dill dip. Can't wait.

I've been cleaning feverishly all day. Well maybe not feverishly, I am trying to pace myself. But I've been cleaning. I really should do this more than once a month (the cleaning). Then maybe it wouldn't take a whole day. Eh. Why?

The results of my glucose test came out great! I sort of knew they would, I just always worry a little because diabetes runs in my family. But I'm all clear.

Well the dishwasher just cut off. That means I can go back to watching Benny & Joon while Adrien finishes his nap.

Maybe I should sweep the entryway first. Hm.

I'll be fat but happy

2008-04-17T11:28:00.003-05:00

I haven't posted in forever. Over a week. So far this week I've just flat out been too busy. I've had a lot of stuff in my head, just no way to get it out. I think I'm creatively drained or something like that.

Today I feel like I could just cry all day long. Adrien's been in the pissiest moods the last few weeks. I guess he's just that age or something. But he doesn't really want to eat much (I mean, he still eats, but I'm used him like really EATING). On top of it everything -- and I do mean everything -- leads to gigantic fits. This morning I ate one of his apple wedges (which he was not eating) and he threw a 6 minutes long fit about it. He kept screaming My apple, My apple. And he had real tears.

When he acts like this I just want to scream at him. I just do not see any reason for his behavior. He can be the sweetest most easy going kid. But something has happened and he's turning into a terrible little toddler lately.

I went to the doctor yesterday for my stupid little glucose test. Guess what? I've gained ANOTHER million and a half pounds! The doctor said it was probably a lot of water weight and fluid, but still. I've literally gained 16 pounds in the last month alone. I mean, my pants and whatnot still all fit in the ass area. So I don't feel like I'm gaining a lot of weight. When my doctor asked if I had any concerns, it was just my weight gain. The five pounds I've put on in the last two weeks alone. He asked if I'd been eating any more than usual. Me? Eat more? Psssht. No.

Now excuse me while I go make myself a pizza for lunch. The whole thing.

Me? Eat more? Never!

Wordless Wednesday: Darth Potty

2008-04-09T15:37:00.004-05:00

Darth Potty

Crafts I made at my women's retreat last weekend (yay!):

My husband "worked from home" today (yay! too):

Filled to the Measure

2008-04-06T17:36:00.004-05:00

Oh my goodness. I'm so incredibly, incredibly exhausted from this weekend. But also refreshed in that spiritual sense. I had such an amazing time and felt so entrenched in my own spirituality for the first time in so long. I've been making a concerted effort lately to get myself in order so that I may start to walk the path that God is laying out for me. I really had some time to reflect and give thanks for that path this weekend. I almost feel like I need more time. I always feel like I need more after these retreats are over. You just get that hunger, ya know? It's like when you don't feel hungry until you start to eat.

I was surrounded by so many wonderful women this weekend. The woman who led us this weekend was so amazing. She just has that spark. That intangible goodness that comes when you're living God's love.

I had so many great experiences this weekend, and so many thoughts I'd like to explore; paths that have been set out and epiphanies about to burst forth. I really need to make notes on all this. You know, before life gets in the way as it often does.

This weekend was such a gift. And it's not one I'd like to have received only to put it away somewhere out of sight. I want to keep my gift with me, and bring it up to its full potential. I want to take my gift, cut it out in tiny pieces and spread it around so that everyone who meets me takes a part.

I've been hearing The Call for quite a while now. I need to follow it.

For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name. I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge -- that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.
Ephesians 3:14-19

Feelin fat

2008-04-03T12:31:00.003-05:00

I went to the OB yesterday. Astonishingly enough, I'd managed to gain 754930264.6 pounds since my last visit. Okay, maybe not 754930264.6 pounds. But enough. Enough to make me slightly saddened about it. So what'd I do yesterday? After I got home, I ate some cookies and creme ice cream. That sounded like a good solution. Made me feel slightly better.

So the doctor apparently just now noticed that I'm "measuring big". I mean, everyone with eyeballs has noticed now humungo my stomach is. So he did an ultrasound. Very exciting. I apparently have an excess of amniotic fluid. He says "It's more than we like to see, but still within the normal range." Whatever that means. I couldn't pry any info about it out of him since I'm still "normal," so I did what every curious person does, and I Googled it. Wow. Shouldn't have done that. But I'm still normal, so that's good. The up side is that I got a 3D pic of the baby yesterday! Yay! As soon as my husband gets it scanned in for me at work, I'll post a picture. I have to say though, I think he looks just like his brother. I mean, not that I thought he wouldn't.

My church's women's retreat is this weekend. I'm on the planning committee. Yay for me. I'm so involved and all. No, really I am. Anyway, I'm leaving tomorrow around 10amish to go drive two hours to wooded peace and quiet. Everyone else will be enjoying bottles and bottles of wine and other various adult beverages, while I'm over to the side sipping some soda and ~~gaining another million and a half pounds~~ munching on snacks. Anyway, it should be tons of fun. There'll be crafts and fellowship and nap time and nature ~~and watching other people get drunk~~. I mean, we are Presbyterian after all. Somebody better bring Oreos.

Andi's going to see the Nascar race that's in town on Sunday. He's going to drop Adrien off at his parent's house so that they can watch him while he's off having a redneck of a good time. Seriously though, we're not rednecks. We just like fast cars. So everybody wins and we're both getting a break. Adrien will get to hang out with his most favoritest person -- his Pawpaw.

I probably won't get to blog again until Monday. Or possibly Sunday night. I'm sure everyone will miss me oh so much.

What comes after three? Oh ya, Five.

2008-04-01T15:52:00.002-05:00

After a few months of working on counting with Adrien, it's apparent to me that he takes after my math abilities -- not his father's.

This is how Adrien counts:

Fi, free, Fi, free, fi, free...

Translation: Five, three, five, three, five, three...

Let's hope he gets my communication skills.

Oh, Oreos...

2008-03-31T22:47:00.002-05:00

This is a conversation I had with my husband earlier.

Me: So I totally passed up buying Oreos at the store today.

Andi: Were they not on sale?

Me: No. They weren't.

Andi: Is that why you didn't buy them?

Me: Only. Reason.

Gah! I want some stinkin' Oreos.

First Hair Cut

2008-03-30T00:28:00.004-05:00

So we got Adrien's hair cut today. His first one.

Oh my goodness, could anything be cuter? I think not.

And on a rather joyous side note: Andi's Mom happened to be in town for some work today. She stopped by to see Adrien and ended up taking him home for the night. We just watched Dan in Real Life with the volume up. I kept thinking I needed to turn it down because it was going to wake him up.

This is my kid. And he's cute.

2008-03-28T15:44:00.004-05:00

This is my kid. And he's cute.

He has peanut butter all over his face and crammed into his mouth. He eats it by the spoonful(s).

These are some sprouts from seeds I've been waiting to shoot up for a few days now. Adrien got this dandy little bucket with some seeds at our church's Easter Egg hunt. I planted them a few days ago and have been eagerly awaiting their surface breaking! I can't wait to see what kind of flowers they are!

I took Adrien to the mall for some play time earlier. Although the weather's been extremely nice and warm lately, today it made a turn for the cold and nasty. It's in the 50s and misty out. I got some Chik-fil-a out of the deal and Adrien got some play time. I also bought some sort of stretch mark cream. Let's hope it works. Psssht.

Tonight I'm going to a game night with some friends from church. Last month's was a ton of fun, and this month's theme is pajama party. So I get to wear my PJs (i.e. ratty old shirt and only pair of pj pants that still fit) and go play games. Breakfast food will be served. Mmmmm. I'm hosting next months -- what theme shall I choose? Hm. Got ideas? Let me know.

I've really been struggling with whether or not to try to potty train Adrien lately. You may remember this post from forever ago where I posted that he had expressed an interested in toilet training. I should have just bit the bullet and went full fledged then. He'd be done by now. But by my own laziness, I ended up directing him to go in his diaper because I got tired of having to go every 30 minutes.

So now, we still go potty when I feel like taking him, or by the occasion that he insists he go "wee wee". I just wonder if I could get him trained. I'd love to have it done by the time the baby arrives (end of July/first part of August), but I just wonder if he's really ready. I know he's fully aware of when he needs to go, etc, but it will be quite a while still before his body is ready to go all night -- or even through an extended nap time without needing a diaper. I just figure, if I still have to diaper him then, why potty train at all? He's already half way there, I just doubt that he'll want to poop in the potty. He seems quite fond of poopin' in his diaper, thank you.

I don't know. To train, or not to train...that's the question. Now that I'm not involved with the play group, it'd be a little easier. I'd be able to stay home for the week or two it may take. But then what am I supposed to do with him in public? He's not big enough (body wise) to use an adult toilet, and the only public place I'm aware of that has munchkin size pissers is the mall.

Blah. I don't know.

But, pancakes, here I come! I can't wait for game night! :)

Not to get all political on you...

2008-03-28T10:11:00.002-05:00

...or anything. But I saw this story and really liked it. It made me think.

Here you go: Boycott Beijing

What do you guys think?

I think Tibet needs our prayers.

This little fine of mine...

2008-03-27T14:02:00.003-05:00

So yesterday, I got a ticket.

A big fat, whopping, shiner of a ticket.

And when I say fat, I'm of course referring to the wad of cash it will take to pay my not so tiny fine off.

Trucking along like nobody's business through my local construction zone yesterday, I passed a brand new shiny cop car that, oh yes, just so happened to turn his lights on at the site of me. Never mind the other three cars in front of me. I was last in line.

Shit.

I was talking to my friend on the phone. Shit. I hung up with her and pulled into the closest parking lot -- a local stop and rob. You know, one of those high class Beer and Wine shacks.

I rolled my window down and handed Mr. Officer my license and insurance. This is how the conversation took place:

Adrien in the back seat: Uh oh! Uh oh!

Me: Was I speeding?

Mr. Officer: Yes, is there some emergency reason why you were going 39 in a 20 MPH construction zone? [Um, oopsie]

Adrien: Uh oh! Uh oh! [It amazes me how even the young fear the fuzz]

Me: Um, I was on my cell phone. I wasn't paying attention. Sorry. [I mean, did he want the truth, or did he want the truth?]

Adrien: Uh oh! Uh oh! Uh oh!

Me: Yes, Adrien mommy did an Uh Oh.

Mr. Officer: Sign here.

So I signed there, and he printed my ticket.

Adrien: Uh oh! Uh oh!

He hands me my ticket and I glance down to assess the damage. $247!

Shit.

Adrien: Uh oh!

Me: Yes, Mommy uh-oh'd.

Wordless Wednesday: Old folks I saw on Vacation last year

2008-03-26T14:33:00.001-05:00

I'll need my own Galaxy

2008-03-25T15:35:00.001-05:00

Why someday I may resemble Jabba the Hut:

1. I had a Totino's Pizza for lunch.

2. I had numerous Girl Scout cookies afterward. (Explain who thought 80 calories per cookie was a good idea?)

3. I just canceled my gym membership.

4. Earlier, while explaining to a friend a technique involved in cooking dinner last night, I used the phrase "it sort of fries in its own fat."

Life sans Gurdle. Liberation at last!

2008-03-24T14:30:00.004-05:00

Before you read any further, I'm going to go ahead and insert the sound of screeching tires, well, [here]. Now it's done, and you're prepared.

I quit my play group.

I did what?

Yes, I quit my play group.

Suffice it to say that it has apparently taken me a good year and a half to figure out that play groups are not a good place for fostering healthy adult relationships, and therefore should be no place for my children to foster any sort of relationships. Granted, I think I'm leaving with a few friendships still intact, but all in all I see it as a socially ~~retarted~~ (and emotionally) exhausting catastrophe. I mean, really. Why behave worse than the children you're trying to raise properly? Why? I mean, they're the toddlers -- we're the adults. But for Pete's sake (whoever Pete is), play groups just do not follow the rules of logical social engagement.

And here it is that I will insert a huge, emphatic sigh of relief. [Consider it inserted]

Not having structured activities to attend or egos to humor is a bit strange...but all in all liberating. What will I do with my time? I'm not sure...but no longer will it entail doing anything for the sake of appearances. I think what I'm feeling must be similar to the way women felt when they realized they could go bra-less. Floppin' free every day and lovin' every saggy minute of it.

In other news, my husband finally hung up the pot rack he bought me for Christmas. (Yes, it did take him long enough. But in his defense it was quite a feat!) I feel very professional and fancy with it hanging up above my island.

I also overheard my husband telling Adrien that we'd venture to IKEA this weekend. Oh my goodness. Nothing excites me more than the thought of Swiss goods and cinnamon rolls. Oh, those wonderful cinnamon rolls.

King Sleeps a lot

2008-03-21T08:42:00.003-05:00

I've been up with a monstrously cranky toddler since 6:45 a.m., that despite the use of a disposable diaper overnight, woke up soaked for the second night in a row. Meanwhile, my husband King Gets-to-sleep-in-a-lot is in the bedroom with his face buried under a pillow. It's now nearing 9am.

Justice? Our neighbor's lawn care service just showed up.

The Keds of a Housewife

2008-03-20T15:35:00.004-05:00

I went to my playgroup's Easter egg hunt today. Tons of fun, that was.

Out of the 10 eggs Adrien was allotted to pick up, three of them had prizes inside. What? I'm an organizer of this group and I still don't get it. He got lumped in with the smaller kids' hunt, and so I suppose the egg-stuffer decided that the little kids didn't need prizes in their eggs. Not that I want him scarfing down a ton of candy, but there are alternatives to candy that can be stuffed inside. Oh well, I wasn't asked to help with the event, so my two cents weren't collected.

Anyway, I feel supremely gypped for him.

Then I came home and made lasagna. I hope it turns out okay.

And all I can think of today is that I'd rather be here...:

...than here:

I mean, don't get me wrong. I love being at home with Adrien. But I just get all antsy and caged-up feeling. I got too many boundaries, yo.

Meanwhile, some bumpkin at the park today asked me where I got my "Keds." I replied "They're VANS, and I got them at the VANS store."

She looked really confused.

Come on in. Stay a while.

2008-03-19T15:08:00.002-05:00

So I saw a blog posting over at Sarcastic Mom today, and it sort of inspired me. I realize that as a reader of my blog, you may have your own little vision of what my life entails. Heck, most of my real life friends probably have that little vision. And that's what this post is all about...dashing those high hopes. [They were high, right?]

Chances are, if you've ever been to my house, you've never seen it like you're about to. I mean, you've read my many, many posts about cleaning before company comes. Now you get to see why it's such a chore.

This is the House of B on any given day. Today, in fact.

Never mind the fact that I didn't even venture into the nasty little nooks and crannies. I took many more pictures, in fact...but I posted the best (i.e. worst).

So hold your nose and dive in. Barf bags, optional.

No cleaning advice, please.

Momma's Dirt File...online

2008-03-18T14:40:00.004-05:00

So I guess it's the cool new thing to have those vodka laced play dates. You know, the ones you only hear about on the news...the ones where the moms sip martinis while the kids play with their blocks. No longer is it cool to be a conservative mom -- it's hip to let loose.

Do you remember me talking about those members that left our play group not too long ago? We had kicked one member out, many followed, blah blah blah. Remember that mess? Well anyway, I've stayed in touch with one of them (who recently attended my Pampered Chef Party). She's still on my MySpace friends list. Woohoo. How teenager of me. Anyway, MySpace has that new feature that tells you which friends have updated which aspects of their respective profiles every time you log in. Every single time I log in, it says this woman has updated something in her photo album. I generally don't look: except for in cases involving pictures of the other play group. Specifically, pictures of the other play group's mom's night out. Sick curiosity, I guess?

It's nothing new to me that the other group likes to party hardy. A few of their members actually complained while in our play group -- saying that our mom's night outs were too boring...even though more than a few of them involved going to some club and drinking and dancing the night away. But I digress. Anyway, so today I log into MySpace and see that she has new mom's night out pictures. I must click! I must see! I clicked. I saw...too much. Here were scores of pictures of grown women (Mom's nonetheless) drinking it up -- even taking shots from between the other's boobs! Oh my goodness! Surely I was looking at some young college co-ed's profile. But no, I wasn't. I was looking at the MySpace photo album of a 30-something mother of a preschooler. And there she was, in all of her motherly glory, gettin' her drink on and posting it all over the internet. She's proud of her indiscretions. I suppose she has a right.

But where does a night of fun end and utter lack of responsibility begin? I totally get needing a break from the kids and all. I mean, far be it from me to look down on any woman for that. Have a few drinks, even. But why post pictures of your immature escapades online?

Did I miss something in the cool-mom manual?

Poop and Tree hugging

2008-03-17T15:24:00.003-05:00

Wow. It's been a whole week since I posted.

Craziness!

A lot was going on last week, and with that said, I've got even more going on this week. But let's review last week first.

On Tuesday we had a mall play date. Nothing too spectacular, but fun nonetheless. There's a new mom in the group that has a little girl that's around the same age as Adrien. She's really nice, I hope I get to know her. Wednesday was supposed to be a trip to the Farmer's Market. It would have been wonderful weather for it, but the public transit train station nearest to the market was closed down, meaning it would have been a half mile hike -- downtown, stroller in-tow -- just to get to the place. I wasn't up for that, so I opted instead to go over to a small in-home playdate. We stayed until well after 2pm. Adrien didn't nap, and we still had to go to the church that night. We had Thursday off, I think...and then Friday we went to the park to play.

But wait, I'm skipping the most exciting part of all! Friday morning, Adrien had decided that he was going to do his business in the potty. Well into this third wee-wee trip of the morn, he then decided I wasn't going to put a diaper back on him. I knew he needed to poop. He knew he needed to poop -- he told me. But he still doesn't like pooping in the potty. I was in the living room getting his diaper situated, and not thirty seconds later I hear him whining as he tip-toes down the hallway. When he walked into view I noticed the poop streaks down his legs. Why had he been tip-toeing? Well he'd stepped in his poop, and apparently didn't like the squishiness between his toes. He was thoroughly grossed out -- as was I. I picked him straight up and held him away from me at arms length. We went straight to the bathtub and he got hosed off. After that it was into the bath.

Now I know I'm not going to get any super-mom awards for this, but while he was in the bath, I had to try to clean up the poo pile and subsequent footprints leading out of his playroom and down the hallway. Wouldn't you know that I ran out of carpet spot remover half way down the hallway? Mind you, I had full view of him in the bathtub the entire time I was cleaning the carpet. We still managed to make it to the park only 15 minutes or so late.

Saturday we had an easter egg hunt at the church. That was fun, although Adrien got stuck with a bunch of plastic eggs full of candy that he can't eat and I refuse to eat. They were all these rainbow Twizzler things. Slightly flavored plastic, basically -- full of heaps of sugar. And then Sunday we had church, of course.

I had been asked a week or so earlier to bake three dozen cookies for a reception being held after church services. I'd gone to Kroger where I picked up three packages of those break-n-bake cookies. They were on sale, lucky me. Saturday night I set out to bake them. The first ones I was going to bake sounded so delicious! They were these great big peanut butter cookies with peanut butter filling and peanut butter chips. I had fit them on two cookie sheets, but an extra break-n-bake square remained. Oh well, I thought I'd just eat it. I popped the cookies in the microwave and went about eating my raw cookie dough (I know, huge no-no because it has raw egg, etc. in it). I then decided to read the package. It was then that I noticed the expiration date. It read: Best By 20JAN2008. Um, excuse me? JANUARY!?! Thank God I didn't get sick. I threw the cookies away and returned the package to the store for a refund. Why had there been anything on the shelf that was that far past date? I don't get it. It's not the first time I've had to return bad product to that very store. I think I'm going to stop shopping there. I generally check my dates when I shop at that place, and I'm always frustrated by the lack of fresh goods. I really should be more thorough with checking dates and all, but should you really have to? I mean, you should be able to trust your store, right? Or is that too much to ask?

Moving on, last week I wrote about how I define myself. Since I am, and always will be, someone who needs to feel defined by something, I'm moving forward trying my hardest to make my own definitions with things that I strive to be. Such as, being more green. I'm trying to recycle more than ever. I really don't want to let those few plastic wrapper slide anymore. In the not so far future, I'm planning on planting a little garden with some strawberries and cherry tomatoes...probably a few other goodies too. I'm going to have some fresh herbs. I'm also going to try to have a small compost bin in the back. I am, of course, moving toward cloth diapering. And at the same time, I'm trying not to buy too many things that come in huge packages. I wish all companies could package things more eco-friendly. Moreover, I just wish more people recycled. I'm almost sure that only one other family on our street ever puts out their recycling bin for collection...but their regular trash bins are overflowing for each of the bi-weekly pick ups. I just want to feel better about the impact I'm having on my the environment, and to me that is such an important part of who I am...and who I've always been. We lived in a secluded area when I was in high school. It was surrounded by trees, but of course we didn't own all the land. Right before Christmas one year, the person who did own the land around us decided to sell the trees off for lumber. I remember writting the loggers emotional letters begging them to stop. It was Christmas time and they were tearing the world apart. I've always had a tree hugger in me, I just need to let it shine a little more.

Under "me" in the dictionary, you'd find...

2008-03-10T15:21:00.003-05:00

Most of the time I look at myself in the mirror, not recognizing the girl I've become. I'm young. A lot has changed in my short life in the last couple of years. I've let go of a lot in the last couple of years.

The problem is, that I'm not sure I ever knew who I was. I existed, and I was...but I wasn't in touch with that. There were points in time when I believed I was whole heartedly connected to me. Those points were linked together by periods of chaos and tumult. And for the most part, the things that made up who I was were all set in motion by myself and the thought that the person I was should take that action. After all, certain types of people take certain roads. Or so I thought.

I'm most likely being a little confusing. Let me explain.

In high school I was torn apart by two juxtaposing sides. I was a cheerleader on one hand. I'd tried out all through middle school and never made the squad. I persevered though, and when I auditioned for the high school varsity's squad at the end of eighth grade, I made it. Suddenly all the girls that either hadn't noticed me, or that had noticed me but didn't like me anyway, became my friends. I was popular. Later on in high school I had friends admit to me that they thought I'd actually moved to town in ninth grade. They didn't realize I'd lived in that town for three previous years. Apparently I meant nothing until I was a cheerleader...so for a while, that was who I was. But not really. I was still generally the odd one out when it came to the social arena. I was a hanger-on...only included by association.

When I decided to show a bit more of another person I thought I was, I quit the cheerleading squad. After all, a punker can't be a cheerleader. It doesn't fit, right? I told everyone I was quitting cheerleading after two years because I'd earned my letterman jacket already. The truth was that I was trying to make myself fit into a specific mold. High school continued on. I varnished my perfect cheerleader persona. I suppose I was still popular, in a way. I was still on the outer rim of the it-clique. I think I was held there mostly by sick curiosity. All the kiddies wanted to see what strange thing I'd wear or crazy thing would come out of my mouth next. Some of my teachers hated who I was...and some loved me for it. I loved me for it. But behind the curtains and black eyeliner was a very chaotic family life. My childhood had not been picturesque, and my teen years weren't shaping up as Rockwellian either. Most people didn't see that though. They saw the self portrait I'd painted for the rest of the world. They didn't get to see me go home and cry every night. They didn't know that my best friend and I had some sort of strange anorexic pact going. They don't know the true story of what happened when I was raped at 16. They saw black clothing, a need to be different and a girl who either intrigued or repulsed them.

During that time, I thought of myself as an artist. I'd continue to do that for the longest time. I was president of the art club in high school, and had two art classes per day my senior year. It shouldn't be surprising that I chose to go to art school...that was who I was. Right? In art school I eventually met my husband...and my life started to change again. I was in a very dark period when my husband met me. He pulled me straight out. He wasn't a boy I'd thought to be my "type," and for the first time, I let myself go against what type I thought I was.

So here I am, only a few years down the road from all of that. High school wasn't that long ago. That person I was then isn't that far away. And somewhere along the road, I've managed to dump every single scrap of self I accumulated along the way. I'm a stay at home mom now. I'm a Democratic delegate. I'm the assistant organizer of a play group. I'm active in a church. I no longer paint. I no longer wear the coats of black eyeliner that I thought were such a badge of courage. But those things and so many others were a part of me for so long, that now that they're not I'm having a hard time defining me. Maybe it's part of growing up. Who knows. I still wonder what I'll be when I grow up.

I just wonder why I have such an urge to define myself as anything. Why do I feel like living without boundaries or definitions is so hard? For some reason, I just don't feel secure without lines to color in. I don't know why. Do you? Or are you one of those people who baulk definitions?

Wallowing Domestic

2008-03-07T15:58:00.004-06:00

This is what we woke up to this morning.

It didn't last until much after 10 a.m. or so. I knew it wouldn't. The ground was wet to begin with and the sun came out, warming it up to 50 or so. I wanted to take Adrien out to play in it because he seemed so fascinated by it...but that would have just ended in both of us being soaking wet. It would have been like rolling around in a slushee.

I'm hosting a Pampered Chef party tonight. I think it will be lots of fun, they always are. I always like the bonus of free stuff, although I'm not sure how much hostess credit I'll get this time because my friends and I are all collectively broke. Oh well, you can't go wrong when someone comes to your house to cook and showcase cool kitchen gadgets. If nothing else, it will be fun. And maybe I'll earn enough hostess credit to get a free cutting board -- I really need a good one. The new catalog just came out and they have some really cute picnic type items (plastic plates, tumblers, flatware) that I think would be adorable for using when grilling out. Too bad we don't grill very much...or entertain often, for that matter. Oh well, one can dream.

I remember when Andi and I did our wedding registry. We went through the store (Crate & Barrel) with such wide eyes and big imaginations. We just knew we'd need that fondue pot for all the friends we were sure to have over. Too bad our dreams were mostly dashed when our family chose to purchase most of our gifts off of our Target registry. For some reason Target hadn't inspired such grande ideals of entertaining.

Do you suppose that whole perception is left over from the 1950s? I mean, the perception that once you're married you'll have tons of other couple friends and you'll all have great get-togethers and wallow in your couple-ness? I remember watching the movie Mona Lisa Smile, and observing how excited one of the characters was to get married and own a washing machine. Do you think all of our great housewife like thoughts come from that time? I do. Although my husband has recently admitted to me that if I were his payed housekeeper, I'd be fired, I still try to hold myself up to those June Cleaver-like standards. I mean, sure, my house isn't immaculate and dinner isn't on the table at 5 sharp every night...but in my head I'd like it to be that way. I guess, anyway. I mean, aren't I supposed to want it to be that way?

Who knows. I could really go on about that all day. I could hold myself under a microscope and be bashed by other women for keeping those standards as ideal. I know that many feminists have fought hard to change the perception that Woman = Such and Such. But in my mind, there is nothing wrong with holding ideals, as long as you let yourself slip from them and land right back in reality.

I'm perfectly fine with trying to fit into June's apron every now and again. And today, I'm very excited about wallowing domestic.

Wordless Wednesday: Asleep in the Car

2008-03-05T16:21:00.001-06:00

Presidential butt treatment

2008-03-04T15:58:00.003-06:00

I went down to my precinct's designated voting center today, and voted. It feels great! I have to go back tonight and caucus. That feels great too! I didn't get to vote in the last election because I went out of country sort of last minute to study abroad and was in England at the time...I didn't have the time to file an absentee ballot. I remember watching with dread on BBC4 the real-time voting results, praying we'd get another president in office. I knew it wouldn't happen, and it didn't. Four years later, we are guaranteed a new president and it's all very, very exciting! I'm not voting for the candidate I originally thought I would, but I have absolutely fallen in love with the ideals of the one I've settled on. I want this country to change, and I'm so happy to be part of it.

This past weekend I went to a local cloth diaper retail store. I've always been interested in cloth diapering, I just didn't start right away with Adrien because I was going back to work and thought I'd never be staying at home. Even after I was laid off a few months after I returned to work, I continued to use disposables because, well, it was easier. Also, I didn't have the money to invest all at once in cloth diapers. They're cheaper in the long run (and greener!), but spending a little at a time on disposables was just easier than shelling out what seemed like one big chunk to get started.

Now that we're expecting baby number two, I'm all about cutting that expense out. Adrien is still in diapers as well, and although he's a great potty training candidate, I just don't want to do it fully until I know he's completely ready. I don't want any regressing or anything. So, anyway, I journeyed over to the little cloth diaper store and I was happy to see it busy. You just don't think of that kind of thing as being popular, but the store was bustling! Maybe it's because the owner only opens publicly on Saturdays (weekdays require appointments), or maybe it's because this whole cloth diaper thing is really catching on. I read somewhere that it can take up to 500 years for a disposable diaper to biodegrade. That's just insane to me! I just bought that new Jeep, which Lord knows is not the most eco friendly, and maybe I'm trying to make up for that in some way. Who knows, but the owner of the store was really nice and VERY friendly.

I picked up a few diapers to try out for Adrien. I didn't go full force and buy a ton because I wasn't sure what I was going to like. Already I'm in love with these diapers though. I think they keep his butt dryer than the disposables! They're AMAZING!

I simply have to invest in a diaper sprayer though. The other alternative is to wash the diapers out in the toilet, and THAT is just something I do not want to have to do. I also need to get a diaper pale.

I'm very excited about this whole thing though.

A new president and new covers for my babies' bottoms. Yay. I wonder what type of diapers the candidate's parents used. Hmmmm.

On a side note, I think my blog needs a major make over. What do you think? It's just so...blah.

The audacity of it all

2008-02-28T14:31:00.003-06:00

I got an email from Kathy today. All this time and now she decides to come to me.

She didn't teach at Wednesday night church last night like she was supposed to. Pain in the ass, actually, because the director and I had to step in. I think it's such a sheepish thing to do; she says she was sick. I'm sure she caught something from Adrien.

Anyhow, this is the letter she sent:

Bryany,

First off, sorry if I went to Linda to ask her opinion about the vaccination issue. Monica told me to do that. I actually was going to talk to you first. Guess I shouldn’t listen to others on that and go with my gut. As for why, after you had told me, I did some research and talked to my doctor and a few other nurses. They were concerned about babies in our church that do not have all their shots yet, to be around an unvaccinated child. I am not that worried about Harrison, he’s had most of his shots already. And, obviously most worried for Adrien and hope nothing happens, as it probably won’t. If something were to happen and a baby in our church got really sick (which it could), I would feel horrible for not saying anything if that parent would have wanted to know that. It almost should be your responsibility to tell other parents of babies…and let them make their choice on it. But, there is no policy or anything on that in church, so really there is no solution. Since you told me and Monica, it was out there. After I found out how serious it could be, it worried me for the others that might want to know. That is it. Monica and I had talked about it and she persuaded me to go to Linda and see what she said. As far as my mom, she thought we all knew and she was curious why someone would not vaccinate. She did not know about the % of people choosing not to. So, my mom said to tell you she is sorry if you are upset. She in no way meant for that to happen. But, my mom is concerned as well for the babies not immunized.

I am just concerned for the safety of the newborns and babies in our church, in case something does happen. That is the bottom line.

I have nothing against you at all, that is your opinion and decision and I respect that. I just disagree on putting others at risk without them knowing, not on not giving the shots. Do you understand my thoughts? Sometimes we have to agree to disagree and that will be this time.

Take care,

Kathy

I'm still contemplating what exactly to write back to her. It has to be just right, ya know?

Bring on the pitch forks, biotch

2008-02-27T21:46:00.002-06:00

No insightful blogging this week. No satirized mommyisms. No relating of the microcosm that has become stay at home mom life.

Just me, some ignorant people, a grim anniversary, some upper respiratory congestion and a good dose of hormones. That's what this installment will be about.

Adrien's been throwing some horrendous fits the last few days. I'm not sure what his deal is, but he has been a bit off his sleep schedule and I think that must be partly to blame. His tantrums make spending an entire day couped up at home with him like listening to a broken record playing the sound of nails screeching on a chalk board for ten hours at a time. As long as we're out doing something and he's occupied, he acts in a decent manner. Maybe he's just too bored at home? Not sure. It's driving me batty. He refuses diaper changes and today he wore his pajama shirt all day long (even out in public) because he threatened a fit if I were to try to change it. I didn't feel like fighting that battle. Not to mention the fact that when I refuse to let him dig around in my utensil drawer in the kitchen he thinks it's the end of the world. And it is, dontcha know. Getting him into his car seat to go somewhere should be an Olympic event. Some moms at a play date the other day tried to offer some helpful hints for that little predicament. They said he's old enough to be reasoned with. Right. Well, in an ideal world, yes. But you try explaining to a 22 month old that if they don't sit in their car seat to be buckled in there will be no play date. He doesn't care. Could care less. All he cares about is not being strapped in. Never mind the consequence. You reason with him if you think it's such a great idea.

But I digress.

Where was I? Oh yes, the ignorant people.

Over the period of time I've been involved with my church -- somewhere around a year and a half -- I've made some good friends and acquaintances and come to feel at home. Yesterday Andi told me that on his way home a friend of ours (Eric) from the church had called to warn him that people were talking about our family. He let us in on the situation and who was involved. He wanted us to be in the know. Apparently we're still the last ones to know.

One of the women I've come to know through my Sunday school class had become, what I thought of, as a good acquaintance over my stint with the church. When I had my miscarriage this past summer she'd emailed me with kind words and some extensive experience of her own. We both have sons the same age -- only a week or so apart. Although we've never become bosom buds, I always thought we had a friendly relationship. We had one of those relationships where you always mean to get together. I'd come to know her mother through the Presbyterian Women's group and was quite fond of both of them.

About a month and a half or two ago I'd seen this woman at the mall while I was waiting for a play date to start. We chatted and our kids played. I assume at some point something must have come up medically speaking and in the midst of conversation I mentioned that I don't vaccinate Adrien. I don't, okay. It's a personal choice our family has made -- well advised by a pediatrician who does not endorse immunizations -- and that's that. But nevertheless, she must have mentioned the flu vaccine or something or other and anyway, I said to her what I said: that we don't do vaccines. I never thought twice about it. After all, we'd shared personal stories of miscarriage and loss. I thought for sure if she had a problem with anything I'd said that day she would have came to me. Apparently I thought wrong.

So anyway, Andi had come home from work yesterday and told me that our friend Eric had called him to let us in on the gab going around. Apparently Kathy -- the woman I thought was my friend -- had a problem with my non-vaccinated child. Instead of coming to me with any questions or concerns, she's done the complete opposite. I'll give a quick synopsis of the situation, as observed by my friend, Monica.

The day at the mall when I'd told Kathy what I'd told her, she acted completely normal and since then has. Over the course of time that's passed, she's apparently stewed on the situation. Monica, who used to clean Kathy's house (yes, as a "cleaning lady"), informed me of Kathy's overboard germaphobia...which apparently sparked her hysteria. At some point in time, Kathy took her five year old son to the doctor because he had the flu and asked him what the effects of her sons being exposed to my non vaccinated son were. One of two things occured when her doctor answered her questions...Either A) her doctor is misinformed and undereducated on immunizations, or B) her doctor said one thing and she heard what she wanted to. Either way, Kathy thinks her doctor is quoted as saying that my non vaccinated child could negatively effect her vaccinated children, i.e. Adrien could get her children sick. Not only did her doctor say that, but went as far as to say that I was putting the life of my unborn child at risk. You know, because I'm a wonderful parent and all.

Upon hearing this misinformation, Kathy was livid. At some point along the way, Kathy naturally must have talked to her mother about my rabid child. At Kathy's oldest son's birthday party (who knows when it was or how long ago it was), her mother took it upon herself to announce to the attendants (I wasn't one) of my child's non vaccinated state. An announcement -- made to all the guests. So anyway, continuing to stew on the situation and my apparent lack of parenting skills, Kathy asks Monica for advice -- also informing her of Adrien's non-vaccinated status. Monica advises Kathy not to call me directly (for fear that Kathy would be entirely too rude or brash) and that she should, instead, put in a call to our Pastor for some council [of the spiritual sort]. Instead of calling for council, Kathy calls the Pastor, but to tell him of my wrong doing. She wants the hounds called out on me.

Meanwhile, the church position on the matter is that they do not turn members away and that it is acceptable for Adrien not to be vaccinated (as it IS legal), but that they would eventually bring it up in a Session meeting. In the mean time, Monica called the church to let them know that she'd checked with her pediatrician and my non vaccinated son poses no threat to the vaccinated children (hence their vaccines!). Apparently this wasn't what Kathy wanted; not immediate enough. So she tells Monica that she's going to tell all of the other parents. And I suppose she did. Shortly after is when Eric called Andi to let him know we were being talked about. Kathy had called Eric's wife to let her and one of our other mutual friends know. There's no telling who all she's told or what misinformation, exactly, she's giving to them. She's pulled her son from the nursery; he's not allowed to be around Adrien. I have an infected child.

I'm waiting for the hoards to show up at my front porch step with torches and pitch forks.

No one that I've talked to so far has cared that Adrien isn't vaccinated [I have not talked to Kathy]. This entire situation upsets me more than anything. Yes, it angers me. That's natural. But even more than anger, I feel sadness. My feelings are hurt -- both for myself and for Adrien. I'm hurt that someone I thought of as friend and a fellow Christian felt compelled to try and raise the masses against me, as if I'm some evil person...or worse, as if my son is some sort of untouchable. The way she went about the entire thing has such malice about it. Nowhere did she seek answers from me. Nowhere did anyone seek answers from me. This entire issue has been brewing long enough to be considered as Session material -- and I was never even notified. Int he meantime, someone pulled their child from the nursery so that they wouldn't be in the presence of my son. My dirty son.

As much as this hurts me, it hurts me for Adrien. I've never seen such ignorance spread so quickly. And without remorse. I'm at a loss of action. I know not what to do. A friend told me that the Bible teaches us to go to our offender with our problem...that I should let her know how hurtful she's being. But Monica advised me that it won't work with Kathy. And even so, I wouldn't even know how to begin to talk to her. Right now I'm angry, and conversation with her would not be wise. For the first time, I do not feel comfortable in my Church home. That is deeply unsettling.

[I could go into how Kathy wondered aloud to Monica if Adrien was the reason her son has gotten RSV so many times, or countless other illnesses. Rather, it is the opposite. Adrien caught RSV from her son when he was 8 months old. He now has asthma because of it. The stomach bug we had not too long ago came from her family. Adrien's caught countless other things from them...I know because we get it a week or so after they do -- magically. Yet I would still allow my son to be in the nursery with hers.]

All of this, and it's only Wednesday night. This Friday marks my due date from my last little angel. It's been a tough week, and I've now been dealing with this too. I've been crying quite a bit the last few days. It feels very lonely -- this grim day that is approaching. I still haven't come to terms with the loss or how to deal with it. How do you manage? I mean...you don't. You just go on, I suppose.

I've also had a horrid nagging cough for the last week or so. The weather is bringing deep wind gusts in, and it's stirring up all sorts of pollen and mold. The temperatures see-saw; it was 80 Sunday, but it froze overnight last night. I've got this upper respiratory mess going on and a giant dose of hormones and raging indigestion and heartburn to boot. Plus, I'm still dealing with the other stomach issues I'd mentioned in my last post.

It's just a lot to deal with right now. A lot.

You're pushin' it, boy

2008-02-25T16:11:00.002-06:00

Alrighty. I'm not full of bloggy goodness, but here we go.

And my new tube of chapstick is broken. Damn it.

After a week of feeling sharp, unbearable pain in my stomach (and vomiting the 12 hour old contents of my stomach up Thursday Afternoon), I went into the doctor on Friday morning. I had no idea what was going on. Still don't. But apparently nothing is wrong. Which is good.

The doctor did an ultrasound, which I half way expected, but my big ultrasound wasn't supposed to be until this Wednesday. You know, the big one. The one where you find out the gender and all that jazz. I had a sitter set up for Adrien and Andi was going to be joining me. You know how worked up you get to find out whether it's a boy or girl. Especially when you really want one over the other. I had envisioned this Wednesday going just so. And of course, it was going to be a girl...even though in the back of my mind I just knew it was a boy. I mean, it was going to be a boy. After all, Adrien was, in my head, a girl too. I've always wanted a little girl. So I'd told myself it was a boy -- but that doesn't mean I was prepared. There was that little part that had just known it was a girl. Andi had been referring to the baby as "she"...wishful thinking. Haphazardly, right after he'd measured my cervix, my doctor says Looks like a little boy...a split second before he moved over and said And this is the back of the brain...

The doctor delivered the news with such ease. And then just as easily moved on as if it were no big deal. I guess to him it's not. He does this how many times a day? But there I was, in for random excruciating pain getting an ultrasound and he delivers the words I'd known I was going to hear all along but hadn't prepared myself much for. Looks like a little boy. Moving on. I wanted to ask how sure he was. I wanted a double take. But Adrien was strapped into his stroller screaming and I was still worried something drastic was causing my pain. I didn't have time to react. I don't even think I uttered an okay when he told me. I just let the information pass into one ear, through my brain, and out the other. I cried a lot on Friday. Not that I don't want my baby. I do -- more than anything...but I had my heart set on a girl.

I cried leaving the office. Not only had I found out in a less than grandiose fashion that I was not getting the gender I'd so hoped for, but I didn't have an answer to my pain dilemma. Or why I'd thrown up. The only answer I'd gotten was "I'm sorry, but you'll have to talk it easier..." That's all.

So I did. Andi let me stay off my feet for most of the weekend and my pain has subsided. I think I've come to learn -- through my own research and talking to a friend -- that I'm experiencing round ligament pain. But why the heck am I throwing up? It only happens occasionally and this is not pregnancy vomit. I'm long over the nausea of morning sickness. Instead, my food seems to not be digesting half the time. Andi and a friend arranged for sitters Saturday so they could surprise me and our friend's wife with a double date. It was nice. We went to Pappadeaux, and I'd been feeling a little green all day anyway. My stomach was feeling stuffed beyond capacity long before I even took a bite of food. I passed over the free bread and butter offered before the meal -- which I just never do. I only ate a few pieces of the calamari that was ordered as an appetizer. I'd been craving soft shell crab for what seems like an eternity and this place actually serves it. So I'd ordered up two of them...with asparagus. I ate the majority of one crab and a bite of the asparagus. The asparagus was entirely too crispy and had zero flavor. It was all stalk, no taste. I took the other crab home, and on the way we stopped at a Jamba Juice where I had a mango smoothie.

At 2am early Sunday morning I woke up with the worse case of heart burn and indigestion I think I've ever had. I knew what was coming, and it went straight into the toilet. My $20 meal was expelled from my body and flushed away into the sewage. Do you know how upset that makes me? I'd wanted that stinking crab for so stinkin' long and then I didn't even get to digest it!

Today my food seems to be going down better. Not too much heart burn, and so far my stomach doesn't feel like it's at complete capacity. The upper part of my stomach feels like it's packed full and could explode at any second. Has anyone ever heard of a baby pinching off the esophagus or stomach causing food not to digest? That's the only explanation I can come up with.

My doctor said, quote: "I see no cause for the pain you're feeling. Come back in a week and a half and we'll make sure everything's still going okay."

Alright.

Bad food; worse parenting

2008-02-19T15:45:00.002-06:00

I've been doing some more blog slacking. [All apologies, inserted here]

Anyway, today I went to a pot luck. I think this was my first play date in with the group in a few weeks. Although my little hiatus was brought on by illness, I can't say that I didn't enjoy it. I love going to play dates (most of the time), but a mom can only do so many.

So anywho, today was pot luck day. We all know how the past ones have went. Going to these things is always like a game of culinary Russian roulette. I'm not even sure I'd call the experience "culinary" most of the time. These ladies are stay at home moms, and that does not always have anything to do with their domestic prowess in the kitchen. Today's, however, wasn't that bad. The food, for the most part, was palatable. Not everything was amazing, but it was edible -- which is more than I can say of the last pot luck I attended. I took some Apple Chicken Bites, which we all ended up affectionately referring to as Chicken Balls. They were actually very good. I'd never made the recipe before, but was pleasantly surprised. I mean, you can't go wrong with a fried meatball type thing, right? [Well, actually...] I also took a towering plate of PB&Js because I wasn't sure how much kid friendly fare would be showing up.

The worst dish award, I have to say, goes to the attempt at green bean casserole. It was mushy and the only distinguishing aspect between the green beans and the other ingredients was the color. The french fried onions on top were equally as soggy...and to top it off, the lady brought it in a crock pot. Come to think of it, the last dish she brought to a pot luck was in the very same crock pot. The contents of the pot last time were equally as horrific...but possibly worse. Last time she attempted some sort of creamed spinach and cheese crap. Gross. And I'm using crap affectionately. I really think this lady should just stick to picking something ready made up from somewhere. I mean, you choose your battles...and her cooking skills are not winning.

Even more than the bad green bean casserole rubbed me the wrong way was how I noticed one of the moms acting. It's not like this is out of the ordinary behavior for her. I've noticed it before -- at every single play date she attends...I just don't think I've ever blogged about it before. She has a little girl who is under a year old and a little boy that's four-ish. He is a holy terror. Constantly. My first encounter with him was a few months back when she first joined the group. We were at a playground and he pestered me the entire time to pay attention to him. I should have known something was up then. Since that first play date, I've noticed how he acts out toward other children and toward his mom. Today she couldn't even get him to put his own shoes on to leave. And he refused to stand up to walk out the door. At play dates he generally runs a muck and she seems oblivious. Here's why:

She's so busy doting on her daughter, that she rarely even takes the time to check and see what he's doing. Today I watched as she sat at the kitchen table baby talking and feeding her daughter while her son sat across the room eating. She had her back turned to him the entire time. She plays with her daughter and shows her what I think is almost entirely too much attention while her son is climbing the walls to get even a little bit of attention. It's obvious to me that the reason he acts that way is because he is starving for some affection...even the negative type. To add insult to injury, she's pregnant. So just imagine how horrible his behavior will become after the new little sweetie is born. I hope she gets a wake up call pretty soon and starts showing all of her children equal amounts of affection.

I know her son is from a previous relationship, and judging by her age, most likely a high school aged one. I can only hope that her neglect of him is not stemming from some sort of resentment issue...although I'm sure it is. I just don't understand how a mother -- or any parent -- could show such clear cut favoritism toward one or more of her children. I had to keep shoving my foot in my mouth today. I wanted to scream at her to pay attention to her son too. I guess I'll just keep my thoughts to myself.

Nerve Gratin' Time, y'all

2008-02-15T15:43:00.003-06:00

My Mom came up to visit Monday evening and she stayed until Wednesday afternoon. She brought a friend with her.

At first, I'd been excited to meet her friend. After all, she is down visiting from Maine and had been my grandmother's best friend before she passed away. Over the past few years, she and my Mom have become friends. Anyway, what you expect is not always what you get.

One of the first things this lady did after arriving was pick up a rash of spilled cereal from one of Adrien's snack cups. I was completely aware of the cereal being on the carpet -- I just didn't see any sense in picking it up at that point because it would just get spilled again. The entire visit went on like this -- her picking up after me. The end result was me not loading the dishwasher the entire visit just so I could get on her nerves. The first night of the visit I ate a bowl of ice cream. I'd noticed her behavior and decided to purposefully leave my dirty ice cream bowl out on the bar that night. She moved it to the sink the next morning. Like I knew she would. At dinner that night she even proceeded to tell Adrien (while I had my back turned getting a plate of food) that he wasn't allowed to throw his food on the ground. How does she know I don't let him do that. Maybe I like him to. I wanted him to throw the food all over her. By the way, the food that fell on the floor didn't get swept up until the next morning...just to bother her.

The next morning she asked if she could do a load of laundry. I let her, but had to switch something of my own from the washer to the dryer. She took a shower while it was in the wash. In the meantime, I'd heard the dryer buzz and removed my clothing. A little while later she asked if I'd gotten my things out of the dryer and when I said yes, she replied, "So I can expect my stuff in the dryer?" Um. No. You can't expect that. I insisted she let me do the honor though. Later on, she decided to give me some advice on putting Adrien to bed. I was waiting for Adrien to fall asleep in the living room while watching a movie, and she decided to ask why I didn't just "put him down with a good book". Um, great. That would be amazing...if it were realistic. All throughout the day I had to listen to comparisons of Adrien to her grandson who is apparently 6 months older than Adrien, but a regular Baby Einstein. She insists he does his "counting," and when I countered that Adrien is learning to count to three, she corrected me in assuring me that by "counting" she meant he was starting addition and subtraction. She was sending him math books in the mail, dontcha know.

Wednesday was full of extraordinary annoyances as well. While my Mom was dismantling her air mattress in the living room, Adrien thought he'd help. He took some sort of plastic hose gadget and decided it was a good idea to try to "plug" it into the wall. My Mom's friend scolded him for it, and I assured her that it was completely fine because we had outlet covers. Boy was I wrong. It was not fine at all. She informed me it still wasn't a good idea. Thanks for the advice.

The last straw was snack time Wednesday morning. I was trying to figure out what Adrien wanted to eat and had the fridge open, allowing him full range of the contents. I asked him what he wanted going down the list "Carrots? Grapes? Cheese?" No, no, no...he didn't want any of that. He wanted some animal crackers -- or "tookies" as he says. Totally fine. He'd had a healthy breakfast. I guess grandmother of the year noticed my choice in snack and decided to let me in on a little secret: "It's nuthing for Abraham (her grandson) to eat vegetables for breakfast. He just doesn't know any beddah." Well woopty-fucking-do, lady. I'm so glad Abraham doesn't know any beddah. But the fact that Adrien knows and likes all of his food groups gives me greater hope for his nutritional future than a kid who knows nothing about the existence of tookies. Besides, all kids should have tookies. And who wants vegetables for breakfast anyway? Broccoli for breakfast and subtraction for snack time? I'm sure that kid is barrels of fun just like his grandma.

To top all of these annoying behaviors off, I had to listen to her gruff and grating New England accent the entire time. Sorry to all the yankee readers, but nothing grinds my nerves worse. I'm sure you guys would say the same of my drawl. I had to listen to words like cah (car) the entire time. Damnit woman, enunciate! There's an R at the end of that word, not an H! On top of it, she smokes like a chimney, drinks her wine with ice and has the personality of a rock.

My biggest peeve with her though had to be the fact that she found it necessary to pickup my house after me. Don't be so presumptuous, bitch. I'm glad she's gone. She can take her lack of manners and annoying accent back to Maine and stay there.

Holy Flaming Grass, Batman!

2008-02-14T15:11:00.003-06:00

Alrighty, I've been MIA and I apologize for that. I've got a horrible sinus infection and my antibiotics just don't seem to be working fast enough. My head feels like it's going to explode...but it's getting better by the day. I think.

This past Saturday we had a little get together at our house to watch a Nascar race. I know, very redneck of me. But hey -- I live in Texas. What'd you expect? So I cooked up some awesome hot wings, the hottest jalapeno poppers you've ever had and some really great stuffed mushrooms.

I was standing in the living room a few hours before the party was to start and happened to glance out into our back yard. I saw a strange shadow pattern happening on our back fence, so I went to our back window to check it out. I saw some smoke coming from our neighbor's back yard. Oh, wow -- I thought they were barbecuing. About that time I see some fire creep under our fence and spread to our back yard. I could not believe my eyes! I yelled at Andi that the back yard was on fire.

He rushed out to get the water hose, but it of course was in the garage since it's winter and no body waters their lawn in winter. As he rushed to try to get the water hose he yelled at me to call 911. I got our phone and dialed those three numbers -- 9-1-1. My call was not met with a dispatcher asking for me to state my emergency...rather it was met with a recording saying "This service is not available in your area..." Or something or other. What?!? NOT AVAILABLE!? I live in one of the biggest metroplexes in the country. It most certainly is available. But we've had that problem before, we've just never reported it to the phone company. We've always forgotten I guess. So then I started searching for my cell phone...which was MIA. It was in my purse/diaper bag which I couldn't find. I later found out that Andi had put it in Adrien's bedroom -- for some strange reason. So then I was off to find Andi's phone. Okay, so Andi's phone is brand new. He has one of those new fangled iPhone thingies. You know, with all the bells and whistles. Needless to say, by the time I figured out how to work the damn iThing and got a dispather on the line, Andi had the fire out.

Somewhere in the midst of all the rushing around to find a phone that would connect me with an emergency official, I had started to rush over to the neighbor's house to inform them of their flaming back yard. I never made it all the way to their door. As I made my way over to their house, I saw through the spaces in their fence that they were in their back yard apparently trying to out the fire...and nowhere in there did they send someone to warn us of the danger. Thanks. A lot. What if we hadn't been home, or what if I hadn't glanced at the back yard when I did? Our grass is so dry from being dead due to the winter, that it took all of about two minutes (probably less) for this to happen:

Part of our fence is burned, although you can't really make it out in the picture. Andi took some pictures of our neighbor's yard through a few holes in our fence. Their yard is entire burned -- right up to their house.

After Andi the insta-fireman put out the inferno, he climbed up on the fence to see what was transpiring in the neighbor's yard. He tried to pry some info out of them...which wasn't very successful. Apparently one of the people next door was trying to put some sort of fire from their grill (?) out by throwing whatever was on fire into their grass. Genius thing to do. Their water hose wouldn't work -- apparently -- so the fire spread quite quickly because they were trying to douse the flames via a bucket of water filled from inside the house. But oh my goodness. Our house could have caught on fire...the whole neighborhood could have! I mean, on the other side of our neighbor's house is an empty lot full of tons of dead grass and weeds. Behind our house is a HUMONGOUS empty lot (a few acres wide) full of nothing but dead grass and weeds. With the wind being what it has been lately and the dryness, it's amazing to me that it wasn't any worse than what it was.

So about 911. I've gotten that recording in the past. Once when we first moved in, when we were reporting a burglary in progress next door (at our non pyro neighbor's house) and once not too long ago when Adrien's leg was caught in his crib. For whatever stupid reason, I'd never called the phone company to report it. So needless to say, I called them promptly after this little incident. It took me forever to find an actual phone number call on ATT's website. Nearly all of their "contact" pages give you an e-form to fill out. I didn't want a stinkin' e-form! I wanted a human to talk to. When I finally did get a hold of someone, they informed me that 911 service was out of their control, but she'd put me in touch with repair. Repair told me they didn't understand why that would be happening, but she'd have a programmer contact me. This was the extent of that contact: 10:24 pm Saturday night our phone rings. Caller ID says "ATT" and gives a local number. I answer the phone (albeit slightly peeved that it was so late) only to hear "Sorry, I've got the wrong number. [Click]" The next morning when I was on my way out the door to church (literally - I was getting into my car when I heard our phone ring). Someone from ATT tech support was calling to get some info about our unfortunate situation. This is about how the convo went:

Hi, ma'am this is so-and-so from ATT technical support.

Hi.

Our technician says he contacted you yesterday...

Um, I got a call at 10:30 last night from "ATT," but when I answered the guy said he had the wrong number.

Okay. Well, we're trying to see if your problem has been fixed.

How long is this call going to take? I'm on my way to church.

As long as it takes. Could you please try to dial 911 to see if it works?

No. I am not going to dial 911 -- I have no emergency. Don't you have some way of knowing whether it's fixed or not?

Thank you, ma'am. We'll just try to resolve this on our end. [Said rather snippily]

Oh my goodness. Did this lady NOT know that calling 911 without an emergency is a HUGE legal offense? Ya, just let me dial 911 for no good reason. What am I supposed to say to to the dispatcher? Um...no emergency. Just wanted to make sure this was working! Right. Then I got an automated call yesterday saying that my technical "issue" had been "resolved."

I guess we'll have to wait until our next life threatening emergency to find out.

Bloggy Award

2008-02-08T15:34:00.000-06:00

So, I love this blog (and the super cool lady that writes it).

Anyway, she's doing this Leap of Faith posting thing, and I thought her post for today deserved madd props. So I made her a bloggy award. I think she deserves this award because not only does her blog kick butt, but her post made ME want to kick some butt.

Everyone should read her post! So go read it now!

Double Trouble -- Squared

2008-02-06T12:39:00.000-06:00

The goop appeared on Saturday. Green goo at the corner of his eye. Nothing horrible, just a persistent appearance of a green glob. Remember what the doctor said a few weeks ago about the appearance of some fluid in one of his ears? I chocked it up to a bi-product of an ear infection. Adrien's eye was mostly fine as long as he was awake. It's just when he wakes up in the morning -- or from a nap -- that the goop is really prevalent. Monday it took over both eyes. Surely it couldn't be pink eye. Surely. There was no pink in his eye. After all, I remember clearly having pink eye and my entire eye was red and inflamed. His just weren't.

After a few nights of getting little sleep (actually, I got plenty of sleep -- my husband suffered through and slept on the living room floor with Adrien), I called the doctor. I was just so sure it was an ear infection. And now with both eyes extruding green nastiness, I was sure it was two ear infections.

The doctor confirmed the ear infections. Double whammy. Don't ask me why he insists on getting so many of those darn things. [Although I will say this is his first ear infection in about 6 months, so that's a record that's Guinness worthy for him] One look at the eyes and she knew what that was all about too: Pink eye. Apparently there was a little pink in his eye. Apparently the strain going around isn't horribly bad. Lucky for him I guess.

But really, what'd the poor kid do to get two ear infections and a double case of pink eye? It really, really stinks to be him right now.

Chocolate milk pusher

2008-02-05T13:39:00.000-06:00

So I got my Jeep. Super, super excited. I got the black one. I have never had anything so nice in my entire life. I love it!

Haven't had a whole lot going on this week. Yesterday I took Adrien to a local Sonic to play on the equipment for a while. That was fun -- until it started sprinkling briefly. It was pretty windy, so we left after about an hour or so. Since the weather was so iffy, I ran through McDonald's to grab some lunch on the way home. Yes, we played at Sonic but ate from McDonald's. Sonic has the outdoor play area and the weather yesterday was so nice! It is today as well. It's overcast and warm. Although it's a tad too humid for my liking, I am enjoying the warmer weather. I haven't had to run the air in the house for the past two days. I love warmer weather when I get to save on the electricity. Right now I have the windows open. It's so nice!

So anyway, I'm waiting in the enormous drive through line at McDonald's and when it was finally my turn I pulled up to the window. I ordered my food and then ordered Adrien's. I was going to get him the cheeseburger happy meal with water. Easy enough, right? You'd think so, but no. As I proceed to order "The kids meal with a cheeseburger and water to drink..." I'm stopped mid sentence and asked "bottle water?" I say "No, just a cup of water." [I have to explain that Adrien likes the cups with straws. Also, who trusts a 21 month old to run around with an open bottled of water?] Anyway, onward with my story. So I simply request a cup of water. My teeny tiny request was met with a barrage of argument with the lady saying "The kid's meal comes with a drink. Why don't you just order apple juice or chocolate milk? It's the same price." I tried to explain that I was aware of that, but would still like to have the water -- in a cup. She met me with more argument. Broken down, beaten, and really stinkin' hungry, I ordered a chocolate milk. I just didn't have the fight in me. This lady was determined that I wasn't going to get my dang cup of water! I realize that I was paying for a "drink" and not getting it. I made peace with that long ago.

Is a cup full of water that hard? It's not like I wanted a dollar knocked off my bill or anything. I realize that McDonald's isn't the healthy choice for lunch, but when I tried to make a healthier decision with water to drink, I was argued with!

I mean, really. Water. In a cup.

That new car smell

2008-02-01T15:16:00.000-06:00

My Mom is coming to town tonight. That should be fun. It'll be nice to see her again and Adrien hasn't seen her in a while. She's bringing her friend with her...who is coming to buy my car. Yes, we're selling my car! I'm very excited. You know what that means...I'll be getting a new one! At least that's the plan anyway! So tomorrow we're off to the dealership. I think we're going to be coming home with this one. Maybe not though...if I find something else I like more. I would like some more space...but I don't want horrible gas mileage. I was happy with the Jeep though. The first car we test drove was a Dodge Caliber. Although I really liked it, it was too small. The back seat had to be in a reclining position with the front passenger seat all the way forward just to fit the infant carrier into the back seat. Not to mention the fact that Adrien's feet were well within reach of the seat in front of him, making for a great game of kick the momma. The Jeep, on the other hand, had adequate room for everyone. I think I just need to buy a bus for all the room I'd like to have.

So anyway, I'll post soon to let you know what happens! Let's pray for a financing approval. Not sure why but I just picture this scene where we aren't able to buy a car for some unforeseen reason and then I'm stuck car-less and at home all day every day.

Faith No More. Not the band.

2008-01-28T21:35:00.000-06:00

I've got about a ton of blog topics floating around in my head right now. Well maybe not a ton...but they all weigh a ton. Heavy issues, I guess. And I can only do one at a time. Sure, I could write about going to the mall today -- the one in the nicer part of town -- and all that I saw take place there. I could over analyze and dissect the diorama of mommydom that I observed; the annoying behaviors I noticed some kids seem intent on displaying. That would all be quite trite indeed. It would make for great fodder, but there's something else weighing more heavily on my mind presently.

This past Sunday in class, we talked about trusting in the Lord. A lot of the class discussion we had focused on the daily pressures we all face and how much easier our lives become when we give it all over to Him. Part of that too is how stressful life is when we forget that we can find comfort in prayer and faith.

That's exactly what I've been stressing out about lately. I know that I am not always number one at remembering how to hand my problems over to the Lord, but I know Him just the same. I know He's there for me constantly, watching over. I didn't always have that comfort. There was a time in my life that I refused the Lord. I knew of Him, I just didn't listen to Him. So many things had happened in my life at such a young age that I think I blamed God for my problems, instead of asking him for help with them. I was very angry with Him, and for that I turned away. But I came back. And whether I would have always admitted it or not, I knew God was always there. I was just having a spat with Him. But a profound question has been nagging at me lately: what would it be like to have no faith at all? To be completely devoid of all spirituality? That would have to be an empty existence.

I didn't necessarily grow up going to church until later on in my youth. My Mom was very confused about religion for a very long time. She was raised Mormon, and resented the way in which organized religion had ostracized her as a child. She left home when she was 15, and needless to say, she left church then as well. When I was 10 or so, she worked at a volunteer ambulance company and became friends with the administrative assistant there. Rita was the associate pastor at a small Presbyterian church in the town we lived in. She invited us to her church and we felt at home. We were back in the Lord's House. But even before we attended a Christian church my mom instilled some level of spirituality in me. I was aware of God. I was aware of faith.

Now here I am, a member of a Presbyterian church in the new town in which my family resides. We go to church as a family. Multiple times a week. We participate in events at the church constantly. It's important to us that we stay involved in church life. After all, it's important to the church that we stay involved. My pastor likes to tell a parable in sermons about coals. It's about how when you have a group of coals burning in a fire, they stay red hot as long as you keep them together. When you move one to the side, alone, it cools and fizzles out. He uses this to show how important it is to stay involved in a church. I don't think it's a hard parable to read. So I'll save you the details of explaining everything. But what if the coal were never part of the group to begin with? What if it never had any fire to hold on to?

It worries me. It makes me sad to think there are people in this world that have nothing to hold on to. They have no fire to keep them warm. They have no one to turn to and no one to take their troubles to. What a lonely existence they must lead. Imagine going through life depending solely on the good of people. You've all heard that one person say they don't believe in God, only in people. Well in my short life I've met many people -- and to only believe in them would leave me very needy and jaded. I mean -- people. Really. How could someone be in a position to see the things that happen in the world every day and not cling to some belief system?

What troubles me even more than fearing for adults who have no spirituality, is the feeling I get when I imagine a child being raised with none. Can you imagine -- a faithless child? All children are born with an innate sense of faith...but what happens when the parents tear down that wall? I pray for every child in a situation like that. I cannot imagine why someone would want to bring up a child with no faith in anything. Surely that child will not be doomed. I don't believe that at all. The light finds everyone eventually. It's just the dark loneliness that will follow them until that happens...that makes me sad beyond all means. And I'm not saying faith necessarily needs to come in the form of Christianity. Just faith...in something.

Size 9 Aluminum Needles are THE DEVIL

2008-01-26T15:05:00.001-06:00

Okay, so starting last weekend (when I had some child-free peace at Mom's), I started trying out a new stitch with my knitting needles. Instead of the plain -- yet tried and true -- garter stitch I was finally going to move on to something more exciting. Yes, the double seed stitch. This is accomplished by casting on any multiple of two -- preferably in a large enough number to actually see the pattern appear -- and followed by knitting two, purling two to the end. It looks quite pretty, actually. See here. It's important to note that the picture I've linked to is not my work, but someone else's.

No, unfortunately my double seed stitch will not be seen any time in the near future. Why? I blame it all on size 9 aluminum needles. They are, in fact, the Devil. They're too slick, too long, and I just hate them. Need I really explain? I much prefer bamboo. I'd even settle for plastic at this point. But alas, my bamboo needles are tied up in a mid-project garter stitch scarf, and any of my other needles are too large. If I was astute enough to have invested in a stitch holder (or five), I wouldn't be in this predicament.

I am determined to accomplish my double seed stitch. Determined.

But for now, Andi's returned with fried chicken. Oh, crispy chickeny goodness, How I Love Thee.

Let's hear it for feelin' better!

2008-01-25T15:55:00.000-06:00

I think I'm feeling better today. Adrien seems to possibly be recovering too. He slept all night last night with no crying or asking for "TV" and it's almost 4pm and he's been sleep since 11:45am. WOW! I mean, nothing says recovery like making up for lost sleep. He's eating slightly more today. He didn't turn his nose up at Goldfish. He ate a whole piece of toast for breakfast which he affectionately calls Jewwy (Jelly). We then watched two "Bob's" (Veggie Tale's), and he fell asleep.

In lieu of an actual post that takes thought, I've stolen this little quizzy from my bloggy friend Mimi. What do you guys think? Does it fit?

You Are a Cappuccino

You're fun, outgoing, and you love to try anything new.
However, you tend to have strong opinions on what you like.
You are a total girly girly at heart - and prefer your coffee with good conversation.
You're the type that seems complex to outsiders, but in reality, you are easy to please

What Kind of Coffee Girl Are You?

Barf on Barfing

2008-01-24T21:49:00.000-06:00

Okay, so starting after breakfast this morning, I've been barfing all day. Not so much fun. I don't think it's a virus -- as I know these symptoms inside and out. I'm more than sure it's my gallbladder acting up...again. Hasn't happened in months, so I guess I'm over due. It just worries me a tiny bit because generally when this happens, I'm sick for a week or so at a time...not eating anything. And we all know that will not do with the baby. So I'm going to call the OB first thing in the morning. I did, however, manage to hold down about one saltine cracker and a teeny bite of green apple earlier. And just so you know: if you are barfing up a storm, drink apple juice with everything. It makes it all taste so much better in reverse.

In other news, Adrien's been feeling down a bit too. Not sure what bit him in the butt. The night before last he had a small fever, and it continued to the morning. He had no other symptoms, so I called the doctor right away. The only thing I could think of was an ear infection: and boy has he had his share of those buggers. They worked us in first thing, and the doctor seemed to come to the same conclusion I did. Nothing wrong but some fluid build up in one ear. And that ear wasn't even infected...which can change at any moment. Last night he woke up at 3am screaming...and asking for "TV". So I took him and he watched TV for about 10 minutes until he fell asleep. Any attempt at moving him back to his crib was thwarted by a crying and waking spell. In the end, it was him, me and Daddy camped out in the living room sleeping. He slept just fine out there...just didn't want to be moved. I think he slept on the living room floor until around 9am this morning. That's a six hour ordeal I hope does not repeat itself tonight.

He absolutely refused to eat much of anything today. Last night he wouldn't even eat french fries from McDonald's...which is his favorite. He had a fitful nap today and ended up napping in the living room as well. I finally got him to eat some crackers and a few slices of green apple this evening. No idea what's going on with him.

It's supposed to sleet and rain tonight...an all out freeze. But who knows just how much. Andi was really hoping for a good swift coat of ice that would inhibit a trip to the office. His boss sent out an email today about taking time on the commute. I guess she's implying everyone should still come regardless. They should, I know. And he left at 11am or so today to come take care of me and Adrien...but it would be nice to be froze in with him tomorrow as well.

I've not been much for posting this week although I had a ton to talk about. Just no time.

Maybe I'll be better next week. Yes, I think I will be.

I'd taken a trip down to my mom's house this past weekend to see my Grandpa. It was hard to see him like that. Somehow it didn't register in my brain that he'd be in such a state. Sad, really. The worst part is that his brain is completely functioning...he just isn't able to make his mouth or body play the roll of himself fully. He's on antidepressants. Who wouldn't be at that point. They say 12-18 months for recovery...but he's in his 70s and not able to do the things he loves. I'm sure he never meant to be reduced to what he's been scaled down to. I look at him and I hope I'm not staring into my own future...or my mother's.

They drop like flies, man.

2008-01-17T12:11:00.000-06:00

I've had the biggest headache for two days. I hate that when you're pregnant you can't take Ibuprofen. I take that crap for everything. Why? Because Tylenol never does anything for me. Ever. I swear, if I was just allowed one or two Ibuprofen, my headache would be long gone. But alas, it's not allowed. Caffeine hasn't helped either. Whenever I get a headache, it's always the first thing I turn to.

Today seems to be going about like yesterday. Adrien has already layed down for his nap today. Strange, actually. Generally he holds out until 2ish. Not today -- out at 11:45am. Happy day for me. You know what that means? Time to do the accumulations of dishes. Blah. That's exactly what I'd like to do. Gag.

We had another member leave our playgroup. They're really startin' to drop like flies. This is the whole situation I've been talking about lately. You know, the one that's cloudin' up my aura. That one girl was removed from our group a few months ago for starting drama and so she started her own play group. (I ran through this little history the other day) The other day the member that resigned was a friend of mine. That made me feel bad. The latest one wasn't really even an acquaintence. I'd met her a few times, but nothing too let-me-get-to-know-ya-like. And so this one leaving just annoys me. So yesterday she sent an email to our organizer saying that she was tired of the two-facedness, back stabbing, gossiping, etc. that apparently takes place in our group. She mentioned something like someone said "I hate her child" talking about another member. In all likelihood, it was probably me she heard say that. I don't think I'd use the word "hate" though. There are plenty of kids in our play group (mostly older ones) that I don't like. I generally just refer to them as "brats" though. So who knows what she's talking about. So anyway, this most recent girl has left our group to join the other group because she feels we're so derned two-faced. She's got another thing coming if she thinks the other group isn't just the same. The pot calling the kettle black sort of thing. Actually, the other group is the one starting all this "he-said, she-said" crap. It's all a load of bologna, and I ain't got time for it. Unfortunately, I think, it seems to have time to find me.

So ANYWAY...onward.

I've decided to compile a list of all the funny things Adrien does. He's so stinkin' quirky. I just want to have some of his little traits to read about in years to come when I look back over this blog to rehash the good ol' days before Kindergarten and PTA's. So I'm going to do that in a later post. For now, I think I'll go try to wade through the ocean of dishes I've let fester in my kitchen.

Confessions of a Slacker Mom

2008-01-16T14:38:00.000-06:00

It's almost 3pm and I'm still not dressed.

It's almost 3pm and my son is still in pajamas (although he's napping).

I haven't really done much today.

My son spent a lot of today in front of the T.V. and ya know what? I think it's great. That means I got to spend most of my time there as well. I think that's great too.

I have dishes from two days ago still waiting to be washed.

I'm currently doing anything but the dishes.

My floor is riddled with Apple Jacks, Goldfish and a general array of any sort of smashed up crumb you could think of.

My son is currently wearing the last diaper in the house. Let's pray for no poop.

I'm out of milk, and although I went to the store last night -- I still didn't pick any up. $5 a gallon? Are you freakin' kiddin' me?!?

I haven't made my son sit in his high chair to eat anything today. Breakfast was a banana with cartoons. Everything since has been some sort of carb or cheese filled snack -- also served with cartoons.

I'm eating a pizza pocket for lunch...at 3pm.

I ate potato salad straight from the serving bowl earlier. Why dirty another dish?

The first laundry I've done in months was this morning when I washed Adrien's pee soaked pillow. (Yes, someone else does the laundry around here.)

I don't remember the last time I showered.

Love your enemy's jibberish

2008-01-15T15:17:00.000-06:00

Ever woke up one day with a feeling of you've lost yourself? Or just that you feel far away from the place in life you should be? Here comes the hippie dippy jibber jabber again, but really. I'm a hippie dippy kinda' gal [sometimes].

I mentioned in my last post something about:

It almost feels like I woke up one day and decided that everything in my life presently is wrong.

And so I do (feel that way). I don't know if it's morals or karma pulling on me. Could be just hormones...but I can't help but feel like Jesus and Buddha are in the back of my head simultaneously reminding me of the "do unto others" clause in my spiritual contract. Sunday School this past week focused on loving others, and loving your enemies. You know, the whole "If someone slaps your cheek, offer the other" type thing. I've been thinking about my current situation lately -- even before Sunday School this past week. How associations with people could change you indefinitely -- and not necessarily for the better. How every action has an equal and opposite reaction. All that crap -- ya know. And I ain't talkin' physics. It has a lot to do with the subject matter of my post yesterday.

A question that arose in my mind during Sunday School was this: when do you say enough is enough? I get the whole parable of the cheek slapping. I understand the "if someone takes your cloak, offer up your tunic as well." Jesus taught at the Sermon on the Mount that you should love your enemies and have them do what they will. Our class on Sunday surmised that what he most likely meant was for the offender to come to terms with their own misgivings through your submission to their tortures. Like someone will abuse you long enough and one day say "Gee, why are you letting me do this? I am wrong." But that doesn't always happen. So therein lies the persistence part, and somewhere along the way I'm sure there's a moral to the story about just that: hanging on when the times get tough. As a person, you should love your enemies enough and respect their point of view to allow the actions to occur. I get all that. I do. But when is it alright to stand up for yourself, or to do something to change the situation. I certainly don't think Jesus meant that you should stand and beaten down over and over without turning the tides.

However, nowhere in His sermon did Jesus decree that one could not just avoid the situation all together. Maybe that's a cop out. Possibly. But, it does seem one way of dealing with a persistent problem. Case in point, a problematic person. If one is having problems with a person, doesn't it make sense to avoid them altogether, therefore avoiding said problem? I think so.

I'm beating around the bush a bit. I know -- but in my defense, I mentioned hippie dippy jibber jabber in the first paragraph of this post. Jibber jabber meaning just that. So you knew what you were getting yourself in for. Hang with me here.

What I'm really trying to say (under all the parables and prophetic screaming in my head), is that I'm starting to feel like there are people and situations in my life that are making my karma feel a bit clogged. They're cloudin' up my aura...turning it to black I'm sure (the bit about being unbalanced, not protected). All of this is making me feel so uneasy about everything. Last night I could hardly get to sleep. The weight of current situations is pressing in hard on me, and I just don't like it one bit. I don't think I had much to do with bringing these situations into my life, either. I mean, I didn't personally -- rather I brought them into my life through other people who I associate with. Get it? I'm letting everyone else's drama become my own, and in the end no one wins that way.

So, back to the solution. Removing myself from the situation. That'd be great if it were only that easy. How are you supposed to remove yourself from your own life? The problems involve so many people I associate with that I'd literally be turning my life upside down if I just removed myself completely. But if I go on with the associations, I think I'll only become more and more clouded and uncomfortable.

I just need to get up the balls to let everyone know how the cow ate the cabbage. (You've seriously never heard that saying?) I don't even know if that would be the right thing to do. You're supposed to love your enemies...but these aren't even enemies. They're people I call friend.

I just can't tell where they fit into my life anymore. I don't think they do. But without them, I'd really have no one.

I don't know what to do and I've just about parabled myself into a corner here. Too bad I can't have a good stiff drink right now. Seriously.

Rum and coke, anyone?

Who's the adult here?

2008-01-14T21:57:00.000-06:00

So I've seen it plastered across the mommy blogosphere for ages -- well maybe not ages, exactly. So not ages, but definitely as long as there have been mommy blogs, there's been a definitive warning floating about the internet:

Stay far far away from mommy groups. Far. Away.

Yes, but what's a bored mother to do? A socially deprived one? Suck it up.

Well not me. I joined one. A few even. Along time ago. Hell, I even assist in organizing one at present. But where does the madness end?

My first ever experience with play group ended in heart ache, and a less than nice break-up letter. There were tears on my end; gloating on the other, I'm sure. It almost feels like I woke up one day and decided that everything in my life presently is wrong. Really -- I am feeling that way. But how do you sort out what really is wrong, and what just feels wrong -- for the fleeting moment? How do you do that?

I got an email from a member (now ex-member) of our group today. She was explaining how she was leaving our group (and going to another), but didn't want that to effect our friendship. Over the course of her membership in my little groupie-group we've become good acquaintances. She and her son even came over to a Nascar party my husband and I were having. She's coming over in February for another. We'd email occasionally; message back and forth on MySpace. All of that, and now she was leaving. Why? She said she was starting to feel uncomfortable in our group.

What started as a feud between a few members of our group is now starting to spill over into the group's day-to-day business. It's apparently effecting people and making them feel uncomfortable. I won't get into the details of the feud, other than to say it ended with a new-ish member being removed, whereby she started her own group and dragged some of her friends from our group along with her. Now there's some sort of battle of the mommy group thing going between the two groups. There is nastiness on both sides, and with many of the issues it's hard to see where one indignity ends and the other begins. All in all, most of the problems are a load of bullocks. Chock it up to women acting more like their unruly toddlers than adults.

It's enough to make anyone feel uncomfortable...no matter the degree of separation. With friends now on both sides of the field, it's become more than impossible to voice my true opinions surrounding the whole jumble. Even in my own blog. The lines between what I think and know are right and wrong are becoming blurred -- if only because my allegiances lie on both sides of ally and enemy lines. I just think it's a bit sad that I'm having to see a friend off and out of my group because she's come to feel more comfortable with what she views as a rosier situation.

But what am I even talking about? It's a freakin' mommy group. It should be all about the kids...not moms acting like kids.

My feelings ARE important

2008-01-13T14:38:00.000-06:00

My husband really pisses me off sometimes. Even more over -- hurts my feelings.

I know that every single married woman reading this is saying "Well if I had a dime for every time..." But really. It's my blog, so don't belittle the writing. I can rant if I want.

It seems like every month or two I have a huge breakdown in which I inform my husband that I just don't feel loved enough. Not that I don't think he loves me. I know he does. It's just more like I feel as though he doesn't show it anymore. I start feeling a bit like I'm being taken for granted and that's just not fair. So after a few months of feeling neglected, we had this conversation yet again (the other night). Of course, I cry and he ends up apologizing. But first thing out of his mouth was something about me not showing any affection either. I realize that's a normal response. I really do. And maybe he feels the same way I do, but I don't see him giving any valiant efforts at a conversation to work things out. So to me, it feels like it doesn't really bother him -- or simply that he doesn't notice. Not sure which is worse.

Anyhow, so these conversations are generally followed by a few days (sometimes a week) of him "trying", and then things just fall back into a normal unaffectionate, indifferent swing. I'm sure I'm probably guilty of it too, but this isn't a blog written in third person, it's written by me. And so it's in my perspective.

And my perspective is this: So maybe I'm not the most affectionate person in the world any more. Maybe I don't throw myself all over you or shower you with kisses when you walk through the door at the end of the day. But neither do you. After a while, I've started to feel a little unimportant. This past Mother's Day I had to fight with you to even hear a "Happy Mother's Day"...and did I get a gift? No. Did I even get a "Thanks for running yourself ragged with our kid"? No. I didn't. In fact, this is what I got: I believe you said something to me to the effect of "I didn't realize it was such an important holiday." I think that about says it all, don't you? After all, I planned you an entire party for Father's Day. Well was that good enough? Did it give you an iota of guilt? No. Why? Well because you argued that I had planned that for the play group, and not you. So I guess it wasn't that special to you. Well let me tell you something -- It was my flippin' idea for the flippin' party in the first place. And why do you think I had that idea? Because I wanted to give you a flippin' party for you "not so important" day. That's why. And if I didn't want to give a party for you to begin with, I never would have had that idea for the play group Father's Day Party. And besides, do you really rationalize saying that I didn't give you anything for Father's Day either? Apparently you do. So apparently the party really didn't mean anything to you. So sorry. I thought it was a nice gesture.

Or how about all those times I woke up in the middle of the night to feed Adrien solo while I was still working full time? I had to go to work every single day too. And yet, I was still the one bearing the full load of responsibilities when it came to our son. I woke at night to feed him, multiple times a night. I was so exhausted, but I'm glad someone was getting some sleep. I hold so much against you for that. I know I shouldn't hold grudges, but come on. You tried to high-five me the other day when I announced I'd (hopefully) be breastfeeding the next baby, so you wouldn't have to worry about getting up at night. You wanted to high-five me for that? Are you serious? I know I get the luxury of staying at home now, so even if I wasn't breastfeeding, I'd still get up with the baby. After all, I don't have to go to work the next day and you do. I just wish I'd been shown the same courtesy. Courtesy. All courtesies take are a little bit of thought. Instead, I'd hear you joke about how I was the one who had to wake up all night long and you got to sleep. All of that and you'd think I'd get a little Mother's Day present or thank you along the way. But no. Apparently I'm a nag for even wanting a Mother's Day gift.

And then there are incidents like today: when I got scolded like a bad child for eating a few shreds of the mountain of cheese you had grated for our chili-cheese dogs. I thought you must have been kidding at first, when you told me to "Stop eating all the cheese!" But then you got really heated, and I actually kept eating just to piss you off. Then it ended with you throwing the cheese in the refrigerator and exclaiming something to the effect of "I HATE it when people do that!!!!" Well, Mr. High and Mighty -- you eat pieces of food while I'm cooking all the time. And really -- did you think I was going to eat all of the cheese? Apparently so, because you were a real jackass about it. In fact, my feelings are still hurt. I literally had three little bites of cheese out of what was probably a cup and a half you had grated. Were you just afraid big fat me would devour it all leaving none for yourself? It's bringing tears to my eyes right now. I mean, grow up -- it was just cheese. And honestly, if I want to fucking eat it, I will. Next time you act that way I think I'll pour it all down the disposal. How would that be for eating all the cheese?

So, I'm sorry, Dear Husband, if I'm not the most enthusiastic when it comes to your adoration. But after a few years of being made to feel like I'm not worth a "thanks" on the appropriated day, I just don't adore you much anymore. Rather, I adore you (very much), just not always the way you make me feel. Make me feel important and appreciated a little more and maybe I'll send something your way. I realize you have to give what you want to get in return. But do I really have to beg for a Mother's Day Gift or a shred of cheese every now and then? Why can't those things just be given to me?

I hate two things: Overpriced diapers and Bitches

2008-01-04T16:25:00.001-06:00

Some days I'm a magnet for crap. Crap magnet. I know, I already posted once today, and generally that's more than plenty for me (hence when I didn't post all of December). BUT I've got a few things that really irked me today.

First of all, in my last post, I mentioned that taking Adrien for his first hair cut was high on my priority list. Very high, actually. His hair's getting kind of ratty on the ends, and honestly it's fast becoming a mullet with the back growing faster than the front. So as cute as he is with baby-ish hair, it's time for Momma to let go and allow him a coif that will lend him a big boy look.

So anyway, there's a kid's hair cut place by the Target I always shop at. Needless to say, it was the first place I thought of. As soon as they opened (10am) I phoned in to make an appointment. Adrien's date with coiffure destiny was set for 11:40am this morning.

Great -- I could pick up some diapers [at Target] beforehand. He had his last one on at that very moment. So we pack up and go and I park strategically between the Target and the hair cutting place so that I can go in, buy diapers, bring them back to the car, nab the camera, and swing into the ultra hip just-for-kiddos salon.

I should have had an epiphany of things to come when I hit the check out line at Target with the diapers. Not thinking, I'd grabbed one of the 88 count boxes of size 5 Huggies off of the shelf and continued on to check out. I never looked at the price. After all, they're such and such price at Wal-Mart and while I figured Target to be a bit pricier, I wondered how much more it would possibly be. I was soon to find out. The cashier says it's something like a $30 total and I'm amazed! Surely that's wrong, I asked. And she looked and said no. Well then I want my money back, dontcha know. Transaction completed, I headed straight for the customer service department where I asked the lady to double check the price. I mean, surely it was wrong. No, it was correct. I informed her that I could get the same box of diapers for much less at Kroger or Wal-Mart and that I'd just bought them but would like to return them.

I can't do a return without receipt, ma'am.

I just bought them, I have the receipt. Right. Here.

[I was holding my debit card out for her so that she could return the money to the card, when I see her pulling cash from the register]

Can you charge it back to my card?

Well I can if you want me to call so and so over here and void the transaction! [Miss Snippy pants]

Fine, cash is fine.

So then I left Target diaperless. Not a total waste though, because my little boy was about to get his hair snipped off. Exciting!

So we go over to the too cool kiddie salon, sign in, and wait. And wait. And wait. Adrien was so excited about the little cars they had in each booth for the kids to sit in. I assured him he had to wait his turn. When I'd first arrived to the salon, there were two stylists working -- both were busy. Neither acknowledged my presence. At all. Each had a little girl in their seat, and I noticed the mother hovering about -- one other little girl in tow. As I sat there and waited our turn, droves of people started to come in. Adrien was restless to say the least...I mean, there were cars to drive for goodness sake! After what seemed like an eternity, the same two little girls were still getting their hair cut. I looked at the clock and it was 12. We'd been there twenty minutes. The stylists were still working away on the little girls' hair. Still, neither stylist had acknowledged any one family that'd came in thus far.

This was taking a great deal of time. The little girls didn't even have that much hair. As one girl's hair was finally finished, I turned my attention to the other girl I'd noticed tagging along with the hovering mother. I mean, surely she had already had her hair cut. No. She had not already gotten her hair cut. The stylist had her jump into her chair. I was furious! I mean, I know they were there first, I wasn't arguing about that. But at this point it was 12:15 and I'd been waiting since our appointment time, which was 35 minutes prior! I was angry that the stylists hadn't been out to assure anyone of anything, nor to say -- We're behind, but it will be X amount of minutes. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. So when the other other little girl was finally done getting her hair cut, that stylist walked to the front to check the sign in sheet.

Adrien had been growing so restless and so had I. So I seized this opportunity to ask the stylist how much longer the wait would be. When she replied He's Next in a very snippy tone, I asked how long "next" meant. She ignored that questions, so I went on to explain that my appointment had been made for forty minutes before that. Forty minutes! What she said next just boiled my blood!

She says, very rudely, "Little girl's hair takes longer to cut than little boy's hair does!"

I'm aware of that. But it's been forty minutes. I had an appointment.

Again, she says, "He's next."

So I say, "Ya know what? That wasn't very nice. I think I'm going to leave."

So I did.

I was so excited about Adrien's first hair cut, and I realized that I didn't want this woman to give it to him. She was rude and inconsiderate. I mean, it's a place of business that services children...and for an adult to have to wait 40 minutes past appointment time without acknowledgment is bad enough...but for a 20 month to have to wait 40 minutes past appointment time? That's just ridiculous. I was so pissed off when I left that I thought I was going to cry. Here this was supposed to be such a milestone of a day, and miss bitchy pants ruined it.

I know I was short with her, but I had a right to be impatient at that point. Forty minutes.

Would you have left?

Domestic Flop

2008-01-04T08:32:00.001-06:00

I went out with the other organizers of the playgroup last night. And once again, stayed out entirely too late. What starts as a monthly planning meeting, nearly always ends as a chat fest of a few hours -- generally lasting until 1:30 or 2am. So I'm pooped oh well.

As pooped as I am, sometimes I wake up with this agenda or invisible to-do list in my head. It's almost always more ambitious than I am, and generally never gets done. It's all the stuff I'd like to do, gee, I dunno, If I actually had time for more than knocking a toddler from the wall every time he climbs up. And I am not an ambitious person as far as domestic duties are concerned. It is not second nature to me to tidy and clean for my entire existence. My self is content to do things that please the here and now such as, gasp!, me time during Adrien's nap.

So anyway, this morning I woke with the impression that there is an awful lot of cleaning to be done -- and there is -- and that somehow I'm the perfect person for the job. What possesses me sometimes, I'll never know. So I'm thinking to myself in bed, make a list of everything that needs done -- every anal task -- and do it. Things like cleaning off the top of the fridge (I'm horrible about letting what-nots accumulate up there), or cleaning out from under the stove and refrigerator. How about actually cleaning my master bathroom for once? When company's coming I always clean the visible parts of the house, but my bedroom and master bath are in huge disarray. I need to vacuum, for one. I'd like to get the dust off the tops of my base boards. Dusting would be nice...oh, and how about maybe mopping the kitchen for once? Swiffer -- you're good, but not that good.

So it's things like that. All the little stupid stuff that nobody ever wants to do, but need to get done. Just about the only cleaning I do on (nearly) an every day basis is dishes. Yes, you heard it. Confessions of a lazy housewife. But I just don't like to clean in every spare moment that I have. Sue me? I know there are women out there who have such a set cleaning schedule that they actually have hours blocked off for certain tasks, all the while still taking care of multiple children. I know this. It must be true, I saw it on Oprah...or Dr. Phil...or something. But I'm just not that woman, nor will I ever be. But ya know what? Sometimes I feel a little guilty about it.

I feel like I'm lacking as a wife and mother because I'm not like that. I feel like I lack because during nap time I try to either nap, read, blog, or just watch adult television.

So my days aren't filled with hour long increments of daily cleaning rituals, but here is what my day is filled with: Adrien wakes up, we lounge around for a bit and then get breakfast. After breakfast, we get dressed -- but generally only if we have somewhere to go or if breakfast has dirtied pajamas. Then, we generally spend the morning going between Playhouse Disney cartoons and toys; or we have a play date that we attend around 10am-ish. If we stay home, it's generally play time and cartoons until he falls asleep for a nap. If it's a play date, I try to stay out until close to nap time and he falls asleep in the car on the way home. Then he takes his nap for a few hours (which sometimes lasts until after Daddy gets home), he gets up, we play more, he plays with Daddy, I cook dinner, more playing, more playing, endless wandering around with his Monkey and Poom (pillow), followed by him sleeping at some point. On a good day I squeeze in dishes during the nap time. But it doesn't happen a lot of days. I'll do them -- generally -- while dinner is cooking.

So basically, I have this routine: Keep toddler occupied until naptime, keep Mommy occupied during nap time, keep toddler occupied after nap time and until Daddy gets home, Daddy occupies toddler while Mommy cooks, toddler goes to sleep.

And about my to-do list? Well as ambitious as I am laying in the bed in morning, this what my day will most likely look like today: Adrien gets breakfast. Endless lounging and playing. At some point take Adrien for his first hair cut, stop by bank and any other errand. Get him home in time for lunch and his nap. Nap time. Mommy will probably nap today -- a product of being out until the wee hours. Get Adrien up. Play, play, play. Cook Dinner. Play more. Sleepy time. Wake, repeat.

So the fridge won't get cleaned. Big whoop. I'm still doing okay, right?

Scratch that last one

2008-01-03T14:09:00.001-06:00

Okay, so scratch that last post.

I'm all packed up, ready to go this morning and my mom calls at 9:30 to tell me she's sick and doesn't want me to come. At 9:30. Had I left around the time I'd originally planned on, I'd have been an hour into my trip by that time. Good thing Adrien was sleeping extraordinarily late today.

Kind of peeves me though -- I wasn't just going to see her. I was going to see my grandpa and to hopefully see a few friends that I grew up with that I haven't seen in a while. Oh well.

Whatever.

I was all set for a road trip (not the three hours of driving with a 20 month old part though), and now I'm kind of stir crazy in my house.

Oh my goodness. Stir. Crazy. Maybe I'll go knit or something.

Three hours

2008-01-03T09:03:00.000-06:00

I won't be posting for a couple of days. Nothing you guys aren't used to by now.

I'm going to my Mom's to see my Grandpa who had a stroke on New Year's Eve. So, I will be away from the computer, unable to post or moderate comments.

I'll be back soon!

Have a great weekend :)

Hog's Head Cheese, y'all

2008-01-02T12:52:00.000-06:00

Thanks for everyone's concern...really. I'm not sure how founded it is, after all, I'm queen of wearin' the blue badge of frowny face land. I think it's just the holidays that get me down in a way.

I've been missin' my Gran-Gran somethin' awful lately. She was my Dad's Mom. We were always so close. I grew up practically right next door to her, and when I didn't live right next door, my daddy nearly always did. I was heartbroken when she passed away and I was only 15. Somehow, I'd thought my Gran-Gran would around forever. But in the last year or so of her life, she was so fragile and beaten. I know it was her time. It hurt me to see her like that; I know it hurt her more for us to see her that way. I just don't think I've ever let go. I still cry over her loss.

For Christmas I made her potato salad and punch bowl cake (best stuff EVER, y'all). It was my way of remembering my holidays with her. Thanksgiving is always hard because her birthday was November 27th, and every now and then it would happen so that Thanksgiving day would fall on her birthday.

If you guys have learned anything from me, it's that food is near and dear to my heart. It's more than food for me; it's pure emotion. So often, I don't get to enjoy the food of my childhood. You see, I married a picky ass eater. He doesn't like anything that I grew up eatin'. He hates potato salad. Would rather eat dirt than greens. He hates anything in bean or pea form nearly (he can eat some pintos though) -- no black eyed peas, purple hulls, lima beans, butter beans. No beans. I'm sure he'd hate hog's head cheese (yes, y'all heard it right -- hog's head cheese. Look. It. Up.). He won't touch grits. It's a rare occasion that I get anything I really crave as comfort food. And food is my way of remembering. I swear I could recount my life fully using earmarks of what I ate and when. I'm sure of it. I could probably describe the way it was eaten too.

So it makes me sad that I don't get to enjoy all that food. He tells me to cook it anyway. But why in the world would I want to cook a big fat pot of greens for just little ol' me? No reason. So I don't. And it makes me incredibly sad.

I'm more than sure he gets fed up with me moaning and pissin' about what he will and won't eat...but it means more than just food. It's everything. And I know it sounds trivial: but it's just flat out not to me.

So, in defiance, I made me some potato salad for Christmas. I think it tasted darn near like my Gran-Gran's and it was great. One thing she always made was potato salad. For any and every occasion. For no occasion. And then there's the punch bowl cake. I know, you've probably never heard of it before. But oh my goodness, y'all...if you had a big bowl of it you'd be wishin' you'd been hearin' about it your whole life. My Gran-Gran made that for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I remember eating it the Christmas before she started getting her sickest. Had I known it would be the last punch bowl cake I'd ever eat of hers, I think I might have savored a little more and scarfed a little less. Little did I know that she would pass away the next August.

I got the Paula Deen book It ain't all about the cookin' for Christmas and I've been reading that. Maybe that's why I've been so dead set on my southern cravings lately. But all that started a few years ago when I realized Andi just didn't have a shine to like anything I do -- food wise, anyway. I think it's really just more than the book is reinforcing something that I already thought: Food is more than food -- It's a tradition. I'm losing those traditions. I thought I'd start crying when I got to eat that potato salad on Christmas. Nobody makes it like my Gran-Gran did. It'd been so long since I'd made it, that I was afraid I'd forgotten. Let me go another year and I may have. Even now, it pangs me to admit that the exact flavor, bite, and tang of Gran-Gran's potato salad is starting to escape me. Eating it on Christmas helped a little bit, though.

I just don't want to lose my food. If I lose my food, I'm losing my memory. And I hate that.

I really want some biscuits and gravy. With grits.

New Year

2008-01-01T17:25:00.000-06:00

It's been a month since I last posted. November was so forced that I had nothing left to write.

Not sure that I do now. I thought more readers may miss me. I feel so abandoned. Not really. Come on. It's a blog, LOL!

Anyway, I think something's wrong with me. I've been depressed I think. Just started I guess. I have eaten nearly two boxes of Little Debbie Swiss rolls in the a little under two days...well like, one box total between other people eating them too. My grandfather had a stroke, and while we're not close, it makes me sad. He's the last grandparent I have left living. His wife was out of state and he layed on the floor in his bathroom for over 30 hours alone. He apparently fell off the toilet while trying to give himself an insulin shot. The doctors aren't sure whether he had the stroke before or after the fall, but think it had happened long before. It was a slow bleed in his brain, but it's stopped finally.

I've felt isolated lately. From Andi in particular. From my family a great deal. I don't think I have anyone who is close to me. I rarely hear from my Dad and it seems like me and my mom's relationship is more distant by the month. Not sure who's choice that is, or whether it's mutual. Either way, it's not such a great way to start the new year. Too much to talk about.

Oh, and I suspect something that I can not talk about. I am just typing about it so that I can acknowledge its presence. And that is the extent of it.

Twice over

2007-12-01T17:15:00.000-06:00

Don't cry over spilt' milk.

We've all heard it a hundred times. But how many times does it actually take on a literal meaning?

This morning in the posh lobby of a posh hotel, our family ventured forth for the partaking of a continental breakfast. Of course, we could have had the hot breakfast buffet two feet over for the low low cost of $9.95. Sure, the eggs and bacon looked great, but I was happy with my lemon poppy seed muffin and banana. They were, after all, free.

Once we'd arrived, we'd noticed that Adrien's sippy cup was forgotten in the room...12 floors up. No big deal. We'd just put some milk in a big boy cup. No. big. deal. Andi filled the cup, and as usual, put too much in. I'm not sure what happened, or how it even transpired; the next moment the cup of milk was spilled all over the posh flooring. Milk everywhere. I grabbed for as many cocktail napkins as possible to help wipe up the mess. Two cleaning ladies appeared out of nowhere and assisted in mopping up the disaster. So, that was over and I'd just get Adrien more milk, right?

Easy enough. This time, I'd apply one of the to-go coffee cup lids to the cup. It's be nearly like a sippy cup. Right? Seriously, five seconds later....that cup of milk was all over the floor.

As I lept for more cocktail napkins and blurted out an inconspicuous fuck! some fat jackass on a cell phone took the time out of his conversation to inform me that there was no need for me to to clean the spill, that they had people for that. I think I said something in return to the effect of I can help...or something. Maybe more rude. The cleaning lady appeared again and I couldn't help the apologies spewing forth like water from Niagara Falls. I felt horrible. I even told her I could clean it. Insisting it was okay, she retreated -- mess number two cleaned.

As I filed in to the back of the line forming at the breakfast bar, I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment and my eyes well with tears. I was so embarrassed that I'd been part of two milk spills in a row. Two. In a posh lobby. On the posh carpeting. In front of posh people. I just knew all of the sophisticated folk were wondering what the hell was going on with that trainwreck.

But what's the nerve of that guy? They have people for that. Pssh. It was my mess -- twice over. Am I supposed to be like, oh yes, my son spilled milk twice, now mop it up Cinderelly? I think I heard something in his conversation after that to the effect of "people that lack sophistication" (most likely referring to me). Even before that comment, in his command to me, I'd heard something stupid come out of his mouth to the effect of "you're going too far to the left". I can only imagine that meant I was putting myself on a lower level with my milk mopping.

But I don't want to be as sophisticated as that fat prick. Not if sophistication means letting someone else clean up after me constantly, while I standby acting as if I'm too high and mighty to even help clean up my son's mess.

As I sat eating my poppy seed muffin, I shed a few tears. I had to remind myself not to cry over spilt' milk.

My Monkey

2007-11-30T12:24:00.000-06:00

I fell asleep last night watching the Cowboys play the Packers (Go Cowboys!). It's no surprise that I fell asleep on the couch.

With no recollection of the preceding events, I woke up sometime in the wee hours of the morning in my king sized bed wondering how in the heck I'd gotten there. I really don't remember. I mean, I assume I went back there willingly -- and not that I was complaining. My pillow top mattress outranks our hand-me-down couch any day of the week. I was just confused. So confused, in fact, that I woke up Andi and asked him how I'd gotten back there. In his sleep, he mumbled something to the effect of you walked. Thanks, smart ass.

What's even more puzzling is what I realized next. I felt something fluffy and soft in my arms. I pulled my hands from underneath my quilt only to realize that I was clutching Adrien's stuffed monkey. Oh my gosh. I'd been cuddling with my son's stuffed animal lovey thing. I feel very grown up right now. Very grown up and confused. I had been having a bad dream, so I guess that explains the cuddling -- but why the heck did I bring it to bed in the first place? And was I cuddling it on the couch too? These answers we'll never know. But it gives me something to chuckle over.

I went to the OB yesterday and got to see the baby's heart beat. That's wonderful -- it's something I never got to do last time. I got to hear it also...It was great. The doctor said everything looks good. But then again, it did last time too. So I'll just keep praying.

In addition to the teensy tiny baby, the doctor also found something else on the ultrasound. He said he saw a fibroid. He didn't explain anything about it other than that most people have them and when I asked if it would be a problem with the baby, he said no. Of course (big fat hypochondriac that I am), I rushed straight home and searched it on WebMd. Everything that I saw was either very alarming, or very mild. Some information said that most people never know they have them -- other parts of the article stated the only way to ensure a bothersome fibroid doesn't return is to have a hysterectomy. There is another procedure that could be done to remove it, but for some reason, you can only have that done if you don't plan on having any more children. So it looks like removing it equals no more children. Hm. Lovely. Obviously it's nothing too serious or my doctor would have had a talk with me about it. Instead the whole exchange consisted of "You've got a fibroid..." and then he was looking at other things like the baby's measurements, etc.

All of the information I read said that they're not cancerous...but of course (hypochondriac) I'm wondering what would happen if it really is a tumor and not a fibroid. I mean, he's never said anything about it being there before, and I had enough ultrasounds done about five and a half months ago that they should have found it if it was there before. The information also said that most fibroids are slow growing. But it looked kind of big to me. I mean, a good few inches in diameter possibly (I'm guessing here). So, if it wasn't there six months ago and it's already that size, how the heck do they figure it's "slow growing"? Hm. I'm not a doctor though, so who knows.

We're leaving later today to drive about five or six hours away for a business trip. Andi is going to be working tomorrow, and his company just so happens to be footing the bill for the hotel for us to stay in. So we'll be in a super nice hotel (five hours away) tonight and tomorrow night. Please, Lord, let Adrien be in good spirits for the car trip. Please. I'm still bummed that they don't have an indoor pool though. Oh well, at least I'll have Monkey.

Disproportionately Pregnant

2007-11-27T15:22:00.000-06:00

We went to the mall today. It was time for the play group's monthly birthday party. Yay.

So we had play time for a while, and then I believe I was the first to head up to the food court to eat. Why? Because my 19 month old was having a melt down because he wanted to run out of the play area and into the photo booth to play with all the buttons. I generally oblige him, but today he was particularly interested in wrapping himself up in the curtain that covers the doorway. Funny at first. Then gross. My mind was swirling with all of the bodily fluids that could be lurking about. I mean, come on. It doesn't take a fiction writer to imagine what could possibly go on in one of those little boxes, let alone the filth that can (and does) accumulate on the fabric of that curtain. I'm sure it's never been washed. So, ick. Ugh. Gross. Barf. Gag. Pull the toddler out ASAP while kicking, screaming, and limp body-going occurs. I carted him back to the play area, where he commenced to a full blown tantrum (complete with real tears and red face) face down on the floor. Somehow I managed to calm him down enough to get him strapped into the stroller so we could go eat. Maybe it was the french fry bribe. Not sure. But at that moment, I'd use any bribe to distract him from his crying frenzy. Mean, mean, Mommy.

After eating some Chik-fil-a and a chocolate cupcake with a boat load of yellow icing (which covered Adrien completely), a friend and I walked around the mall for a little while. We both went in to the maternity store, where she went about trying on eight billion shirts, only to discover that they are all entirely too long. For some reason, all of the shirts seem to completely cover your butt. When the associate asked if she could help my friend, my friend shared her dilemma, only to have the associate respond with "Well, they're made to cover your belly." Well, yes, yes, they are. How observant Miss Associate. But explain to me why you need an extra foot of fabric in the back to cover something in the front. I went to school for fashion design and I still don't get the tailoring of it. But seriously, every single shirt in the place was like that. Why?

A dilemma I have with maternity clothes is pants length. I'm a fairly tall person -- but not overly so. I'm only about 5'9'' or so. I have a problem with pants length even when I'm not pregnant, but I think for some reason, designers and companies must think you shrink a few inches when you conceive. I start out wearing a size "small" pants at the beginning of pregnancy. Since most maternity stores do not offer pants in numbered sizes, I get lumped in with the smalls -- even though I could generally use a medium, they all bag and sort of fall off. Somewhere along the lines, in getting lumped in as a small, I guess someone decided that since you're small in width, you're also small in length. So I get stuck with pants that fit my booty like no tomorrow -- but I'm floodin' up a storm down below. I'm not talking a little short. I'm talking a good five inches or so in some cases. It just really bothers me. I mean, just because I'm relatively thin, doesn't mean I'm short. And who decided that all thin people are short and that all tall people are heavier? It just makes zero sense.

So I guess all pregnant women are stuck with pants that are too short and shirts that are too long. I mean, we're pregnant -- not deformed.