Swimming With The B's 2

I went swimming the other day with my children and reminded myself why I don't do it often. The kids have been driving me crazy because it's been so hot and I make them stay inside during the heat of the day. I finally reached my breaking point and agreed to take them swimming if they would patiently wait for mommy to squeeze her fat self into her wheezing swim suit. They did pretty good, although my idea of patience may be different from others. Glad I have a lock on my door.
We arrive at the pool and of course Lily jumps in and paddles off to make friends ("Do you know what happened to me? I got stung by a wasp! And my eye swelled up REALLY BIG!!"). Caleb hasn't learned to swim yet so he walked down the steps into the water with me. The He-child I can safely say is a tad less adventurous than Lily when it comes to water. After a few minutes of trying to coax him to at least try swimming, I took him under the arms and tried to pick him up.
The kid went crazy.
I succeeded in picking him up, and he succeeded in grabbing one half of my tankini in his fist and screaming "NOOO!! I DON'T WANT TO MOMMA DON'T TAKE ME OUT THERE PLEASE! PLEASE!" Now the entire shallow area of the pool is staring at us and the only thing I can think to do is to pull Caleb close to me to cover up my almost exposed boob. He gets rigid and starts fighting and pushing me away, and all I want is for him to let go of my bathing suit.
"MOMMA STOP NOOO STOP IT LET ME GO LET ME GO!!"
"Caleb! Let go of my bathing suit and I'll let you go!"
"NOOO!! STOP PLEASE OKAY I'LL SWIM LET ME GO!!"
"Let go of my top first!"
"NOOO!! LET GO LET GO LET GO!!"
So now he's flailing around and pushing me back with both hands now conveniently on my chest. I panic and crouch down into the water to cover myself. Which was a bad idea because now Caleb starts to yell
"HEEELLPP ME!!!!"
and now I have the lifeguard's attention. All three of them. Having decided that he won't let go of his hostage (my boob) unless his demands are met, I turn back to the steps and set him down, which is probably what I should have done in the first place. He stops yelling and lets go, I rearrange my top and I hear Lily say "Yeah. He can't swim yet."
I don't think I was ever really exposed but I didn't have the nerve to ask anyone.

Moving And Groving

So we got moved back to where we left one year ago. We're currently living with my in-laws to both save money and... I guess that's it. Well, also to spend time with them if James decides to go active duty after this tour in Iraq.
My desktop computer is currently on a side table that is exactly two feet tall. FYI, I am 5'6". So here I sit hunched over on one of the kids' teeny chairs tapping out this blog. My butt and thighs are numb.
I started my Tae Bo again. Fourth day straight! Woo hoo!! One pound down, 59 more to go!! I still want a Wii Fit. Maybe if I pout long enough James will but me one. Or I could wear a baggy shirt the next time I go to my cousin's house....
On a lighter note (ha ha), I believe I've mentioned before Caleb's facination with breasts. Particularly big breasts. More specifically Nana's big ones. While he has cut down on groping her and I in public ("Nana. Nana. NANA! *honk* Nana!!"), he still makes offhand comments like "Nana, I sure would like to see one of those..."
My kids are on a bug kick right now. Catching them, examining them, letting them die all alone in the bug catcher.... Today I found a jumping spider held captive in a plastic bubble (the kind you get out of crap vending machines) and mounted onto the wall with poster putty. I caught it just before it suffocated.

Aunt Monkey

I think my nephew has taken to calling me "Monkey" now. Awesome.
He and I were checking out at the store and I heard very plainly "monkey." Now, Zayden usually doesn't just pop off a random word, in fact he is very particular about what he says and when he says it. So I commence acting like an idiot saying, "Did you say monkey? Wow! Say monkey, Zayden! Say monkey again!"
What is it about little kids that have those looks that make you feel so stupid? Zayden has a very good one, and he was wearing it as I enthusiastically tried to get him to say what I KNOW I heard. But he didn't, so I gave up.
Yesterday my bunch and I saw Zayden and his staff at Wal-Mart, and we stopped and talked to them for a minute. Shortly after saying our goodbyes, my SIL called me back over and informed me that he said monkey again. That leads me to only one logical conclusion:
He knows me as Monkey.
I don't know why. My name is Talia and my nickname is Tally, neither of which sound like monkey. Personally, I would rather be called "ook" or "geek," hey even "Bom Bob." Nope. I guess I'm stuck with Monkey.

Type B

I took a test online to see if I had a Type A or a Type B personality. Surprise, surprise:

"You seem to be far from having a Type A personality. Your attitude to life is more of the "smell the roses" kind. You know how and when to relax. The hostile, aggressive and competitive part of you surfaces rarely. You are easy to be around, and people tend to feel relaxed and comfortable in your presence. It's a very healthy attitude towards life. Just make sure you don't miss important opportunities because of being too cool and relaxed. Picking up a challenge and competing a little bit for your place in the sun can add some spice to your life."

I like being relaxed. It makes life more fun! Who do you know that is uptight, stressed, irritable but HAPPY? I'm not so laid back that I'm apathetic; I still have emotions. Well, hormones I should say. For instance, I was excited when James got home two days ago from training. I was ecstatic to get to the hotel. I was happy to hang out with friends. I was dreading the four hour ride home. See? I also have many spices in my life, namely James, Lily and Caleb. I also have a new kitten and two dogs and a blog, and I am actually trying to decrease my place in the sun by losing weight. Now leave me alone so I can calmly watch my children play with matches.

Two Years Down

Holy crap. I've been blogging for two years back on March 12th. I now have roughly 113 raw pages of blog that maybe one day I will publish. Consider yourself lucky that you're reading it for free.
Ha ha ha.

I Want A Hunk Like That!

Ah, it's good to have the Internet back. I was tired of going to the library to pay my bills and stuff. Plus, I can't concentrate in a library to blog. I don't know what it is. All the books or something. Like my words are inferior to theirs... I'll stop.

James is in training for a little while and I've entered wife-of-a-deployed-soldier mode. You know: phone attached to me 24/7, taking control of the finances (oh wait, I already do that...), budgeting money for said soldier, being both mom and dad to the kids, getting extremely frusterated when soldier won't go into detail about what they're doing in training, etc. because he's SO convinced the Taliban are listening in on THIS PARTICULAR CONVERSATION, sex withrawals... blah. I get depressed even thinking about it!

Caleb turned four a few days ago. I am proud to announce that he is 100% fully potty trained!! Yeah!! I haven't had to buy new underwear for a whole week! He's on this Incredible Hulk kick, only he calls it the Vicious Hunk. I love it when he gets mad at me and loudly proclaims that "I'm getting into a vicious hunk, Mom!!" Woo. I'm scared. Bring it on.

Lily has been in a kind of funk lately. I think she's getting bored like I am. We both just sit on the couch and ho-hum to each other. But with it being 100 degrees outside, there's not much to do but swim, and even that gets expensive. We work it out though.

Sunday we hung out with my cousin and her family. There's nothing like playing with a chubby baby to lift your spirits! Oh, and they have a Wii Fit that I am so going to steal. You can measure your BMI and hoola hoop and all sorts of stuff. I've actually lost two more pounds.

I am in a "vicious" cycle. I don't sleep well, so I don't have enough energy during the day to exercise, which keeps me fat and causes me not to sleep well. I did a little research and figured out that I don't sleep well pretty much because of my antidepressants. GREAT. They may also be the cause of my twitching at night. Did you know that your brain is less active while watching t.v. than it is when you're asleep? Do you think that's why I feel more rested after watching t.v. than when I wake up in the morning? Why am I asking a computer?

I think I need to go to bed now..... whatever good that will do me....

I'm Still Here!!!

I've moved, unpacked, reattached, ordered the internet AND will be back soon!!!

I Died Yesterday.

I really think I did. You see, I had an endometrial ablation done. It's where they go in and... hey, I provided a link. Go see for yourself. Sorry if I come across a bit... grumpy. You would be too if you smelled burnt poon every time you took a pee. I had no problem with the procedure and all (although in my stupefied anesthetic funk I faintly recall telling the doc about the kids finding James' vagina...), but what they failed to tell me was that shorty after arriving home I would have cramps akin to delivering my own uterus. I kid you not. I have a fairly high pain tolerance (I was enduring contractions with nary a grunt when I was six cm dilated in labor with Lily) and that shiz SUCKED. I am officially better now. If you're ever bored on a slow weekend, consider one of these. NOT.

Vag Finder 3

Note to self: Hide toys better.
James was deployed to Egypt in 2006 for a year and well, deployments get lonely. So I did what any loving wife would do and mailed him a suitable substitute, which he brought home when he came back. For some reason, it failed to reach the trash can. In packing the other day I found it and, rather than throw it on top in the trash box, I put it on the top shelf of the closet for a more discreet disposal later. Then I took a nap.
Guess what I woke up to?
Yup. A pink vagina dangling in my face by my six year old who is asking
"MOM!! What is THIS?!"
I grabbed it, chastised them for being in my closet and hustled them downstairs. Let me assure you that NO parenting manual has a chapter on this. Later on I told James about it and we had a good laugh. That evening my darling children come traipsing upstairs right into my closet, and we hear:
"Caleb, where did you put it?"
"I dunno."
--rummage, rummage--
"I can't find it!"
"Wow! A guitar!"
"Caleb! Help me look!"
"Look at this Sissy! A guitar!"
So they come out and Lily says to me, eyes sparkling:
"Mom, where did you put that thing?"
"Uh, what thing?"
"That PINK THING that was in that bag!"
Caleb: "Yeah that thingy that looks like your BODY."
Oh great.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"MOM. That thing we gave you that sticks to the WALL."
By now James is beet red and I'm laughing so hard I almost pee myself.
"Mom where did you put it? I want to see it!"
Caleb: "Let's stick it to the wall Sissy!"
"Lily, what did you do with it when you found it?"
"I got it, and gave it to Caleb, and then we took it out and looked at it, and we stuck it to the wall and it STUCK! and then I brought it to you. Mom, what WAS that thing?"
James: "Anyone hungry? I'm gonna get a bowl of cereal...."
"Well Lily I just found it in the closet and I threw it away."
"But MOM, we wanted to play with it!"
Caleb: "And stick it to the WALL!!"
Ugh. Pardon me, I need to go put my toy in the safe. I can hear it now:
"Look Mom, we found a SWORD!!"

I Need A Tonic To Go With My Gyn, Please

Don't you just LOVE those yearly below the waist exams? Who came up with this crap? Ugh. I only do it because... well... I guess they're good for some reason. Anyway I went the other day for my annual and it wasn't really remarkable except for the mirror.
The exam room had a full length mirror in it. Try as I might, it is positioned just so that you HAVE to undress in front of it. How horrifying. Interestingly enough, it is also positioned so that when your gyno is elbow deep in vagina you can see what she is doing. Kind of. From a side view. But you can still see her!!
Ugh. What's up with all that lube? That stuff NEVER comes off you know. I wonder what brand it is, because it SUCKS. I'm bringing my own next time. And why does it smell so funky? I KNOW that's not me. I smelled rosy before I got here. I have a husband you know, one I have to make excuses to because even after five years there's no way I'm offering THAT FUNK for his pleasure.
Why do they have to be so violent with your cervix when they scrape it? There are nerves down there, you know. That evil Q-tip from Hades HURTS, now stop! Why do they need two scrapings? One for the office scrapbook? Then for the mauling of the ovaries and uterus. Stop it!! My gyno told me I have a small uterus. I wish my thighs could take a hint. And why do they try and carry on a normal conversation with you while they palpate your breasts? PLEASE. Just get it over with so I can get dressed in front of your terrible mirror.
Am I the only one who hides their underwear inside the pocket of my shorts just in case my clothes get knocked to the floor?
On a side note, I'm getting an endometrial ablation done on Tuesday. That's where they fry your inner lining so that your harsh periods will stop. Sounds like fun, huh?

House Of (No) Poo

If Caleb was having gross poop explosions last week, we have reached the other end of the spectrum completely.

Now the kid won't poop at all.

His doctor recommended we give him a teaspoon of mineral oil up to three times a day to help his bowels pass without much pain.

He has now consumed six teaspoons of mineral oil without one pebble of poop.

He just went to Nana's today. I think she's in for a BIG surprise.

Bagged

I saw a billboard the other morning actually telling these gangsters to pull their pants up! It was hilarious, it had a picture of a granny on there and she was saying "Pull those pants UP!!" I don't understand how they walk, honestly. This kid the other day had his pants below his butt cheeks with his belt cinched up so that they wouldn't fall. He was walking bowlegged too. If I was a single chick looking for a decent guy, I would NOT be looking twice at these dudes. Come ON. What if they fell off? For one they wouldn't have far to fall, they're almost on the ground anyway. If that happened to me I would feel embarrassed, not gangsta cool. Good grief. My son will NEVER hang his butt out like that, which I don't have much to worry about because he has his daddy's no-butt.

That Holy Feeling 9

Lily and I were conversing on the way home from visiting our family and she began to ask a lot of God related questions. It went something like this:

"Mom, what is the Holy Spirit?"

"It's the part of you that can communicate with God."

"How does it do that?"

"When you pray. The Spirit also helps you grow into a good Christian."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You know that little voice in your head that when you start to do something bad says, 'Oh, you better not do that!'?"

"Yeah?"

"That's the Holy Spirit guiding you to make the right decision."

--silence--

"Do you have any other --"

"Mom wait!!"

"What?"

"God is talking to me!"

"What's He saying?"

"I don't know, I have to listen!"

Then she asked a few more questions that I can't recall. If only she listened to me as well as she listens to Him.

We Got A New Car!!!

Yeah!! We got a new car!! It's a 2008 Dodge Caliber (hey, I remembered!). It's silver and it has a sunroof and we got it for $19K and it has a lot more room than the other car and.... I'm rattling aren't I? You know what was funny, I kind of hated to see the Monte Carlo go; I guess because it was my first brand new car. The day after we got the new car I remembered I had left the CD's in the old car, so I ran up to the car lot to get them. While the saleslady went to get the old car I actually found myself anticipating seeing the old car! Isn't that weird? Then I was like, Hey old friend! One last goodbye! But I didn't cry, so that was good.

But the new car has presented some new problems, and I think they are unique to me. So far I have gotten the windshield wipers stuck to ON, driven a few miles in the dark because I couldn't freaking figure out how to get the lights on, bumble-boobed my chest on the steering wheel when I forgot about how good the new brakes work, and almost had a wreck trying out the new stations on the SIRIUS satellite radio. That thing is cool. It's like having a TV in your car! Oh wait, people have those already? Huh. Go figure.

Here, Kitty Kitty

I love my friend's kids.

They're so.... indescribably unique.

I gave her a couple of tampons to try, and a few days later she found her seven year old son with one unwrapped, dangling it over the side of his bed, trying to lure the cat out by swinging it back and forth. Classic!

Today I spied a paper plate with the following message written by her eight year old daughter:

"Bye Mom. I am becoming a homeless person because I can't take Skylar. (turn over) I'll visit you on holidays. She presses my self-destruct button." My friend told me she actually had a bag packed with a change of clothes, her CD player and a can of Lysol to disinfect the spot she chose to sleep. This is the same child that told me I didn't make her feel peaceful. She kind of freaks me out, to be honest.

We have discovered that Lily is allergic to cats, which really sucks because she really loves cats. I have to remind her to put the cat down and she always replies "Oh I forgot. I'm lellergic."

House Of Poo 2

INSTRUCTIONS FOR CLEANING UP EXCESSIVE FECAL MATTER FROM YOUR VIRUS-RIDDEN SPAWN

1. Carry spawn to bathroom and commence vomiting into toilet from foul smell and liquidity of mess.
2. Strip spawn, turn shower head to jet and hose spawn off, gagging.
3. Sidestep fecal mess to retrieve clean clothes for spawn.
4. Return to bathroom, turn shower head to "paint stripping blast" and annihilate the very bacteria from spawn's soiled clothing and bathtub.
5. Gather the following: 160 baby wipes, 2 cans of Lysol, carpet stain remover, old dishrag, warm water, 3 plastic bags and air freshener. Rubber gloves a plus.
6. Gag some more while using the previously listed items to remove and sanitize all eight fecal spots on the white carpet.
7. Decide that you've lived here more than a year and you won't get your deposit back anyway, cease trying to get stains out of carpet.
8. Tie up bags and dispose of waste. Gag.
9. Lysol everything that may have entered your peripheral vision since the explosion occurred. SATURATE WELL.
10. Place can of Lysol in a safe place and wash hands and forearms in scalding water with bleach and antibacterial soap (even if you used gloves, because you never know).
11. Using second can of Lysol, disinfect first can.
12. Spray generous amount of air freshener and put away cleaning products.
13. Call husband and inform him that his shift starts 5 minutes before he gets home tonight.

Guess That Sound!

Quiz: What goes
WWAAARRRRLOOOOOPPP RRRUUUUUPPPPP
PLOP SPLASH
????????
Give up?
The sound of my son's stomach rumbling and the subsequent release of fecal matter onto the white carpet.
Note to self: when battling a recurrent stomach bug, DO NOT dress he-child in boxer briefs. They don't hold up well.

Those Genes Look Good On You! 4

In relation to the last post on this page, I love listening to Caleb play his computer games!!
I'm gonna get you!!
Come back here, you panty-head butt booper!!
Get back here!
What the...
Oh gosh!
You butt face poopy head!!
I'm gonna shoot you! BAM BAM BAM!!
Oh, don't get me!!
NNNNOOOOOO!!!!
I losted.

Someone Give This Woman A Raise!!

Man I hate when people make a psychiatric screw up.
I recently filled my prescription for my Wellbutrin XL at Walgreens and they gave me the generic, which I thought would be OK since generics are basically the same as name brand, right? WRONG. All of a sudden I was catapulted into the I-want-to-cry-after-I-eat-your-arm-for-pissing-me-off zone, and I wasn't comfortable at all. Neither was my husband. I think he was scared, actually. So then I had to call my doctor to get him to fax a request that my meds be dispensed AS WRITTEN instead of SCREW IT UP IF YOU CAN MANAGE.
"Dr. Boo Bop's office, can I help you?"
"Maybe. I dunno."
"Do you need to make an appointment?"
"No, I recently came in and had Boo Bop renew my prescription for my medicines and Walgreens gave me the generic and I need him to fix it NOW."
"Can I have your name please?"
--blah blah--
"OK... can you describe your symptoms for me?"
--The Exorcist voice--
"They call me Legion, for we are many..."
"Oh, well let me just give this note to Boo Bop and we'll have you fixed right up in a jiffy OK?"
"That will be acceptable. Thank you."
I want to commend this woman because she got him to call very quickly (the same day, which is unheard of in doctor-ville), but my stupid insurance company pulled the "you just filled an identical prescription 10 days ago" crap and no amount of green vomit or head turning could get me a refill for 8 business days. Grrr.

House Of Poo

The two households which are the B's and the E's have been passing the stomach bug back and forth for a week now. Seriously, every time we go over there at least two kids get sick, and when they come over... wait, they never come over! But that's OK, I know it's easier to get two kids into a vehicle instead of four. Caleb was the most recent victim and I thought I was going to die of suffocation. I could SEE his stench, people. But the way he waddled over to me to change his pull-up was kind of funny, and his yelling "Mom, when will I stop poopin'!!" was hilarious.
Caleb is getting to the stage where he's saying really cute stuff and performing silly antics and such. Yesterday he proudly proclaimed that "I AM A WEENIE!!"

Pregnant She-male

On MSN yesterday I saw an article about a man claiming he is five months pregnant with his and his wife's baby. I had to click on it, y'all. Turns out, "he" was actually born a she and transgendered into a male. Grew body hair, removed the breasts, etc. but still kept his female parts. Thus, with the help of a sperm donor and some in-vitro, "he" is pregnant. Now I don't know about you, but that pisses me off.
WOMEN are supposed to have babies. It is a FEMALE thing. How can you masquerade as a man and be pregnant? Do you want to be a man or a woman? It flies in the face of God's design for us. I'm pretty sure He's shaking His head as this progresses. They go on to explain that they will raise their daughter as mother and father. How are they going to explain that when she grows up? Good grief.

The He-Child Poops!!!

I can hardly believe it!!
Caleb has been pooping in the toilet for TWO DAYS NOW!!
Can I get a WHOOP WHOOP?!!!
I don't know how to explain it other than yesterday morning something (almost audibly) clicked. He loves to proudly exclaim "I'm such a big boy now!" as he's bent over and I'm wiping his butt. I think Mimi's reading-while-he-sits-on-the-potty idea helped.
On the down side, he no longer wears underwear.
He says it helps him go poop better.
Hey, whatever works right?

Buy Now, Pay (big time) Later

I have heard many radio commercials advertising discount Lasik procedures. WHAT?!! If someone is going to be hacking on my eyeball with a laser it sure won't be a two-bit college drop out who needs a quick $500. That's just stupid! Like people who go out of the country for cheap dental/cosmetic work and get all screwed up. HELLO?!! What did you expect? I paid $4400 for my Lasik, and I would pay it again, because he was a REAL doctor with a REAL degree.
Some people may be asking, What if these doctors are real and just want to help the underpaid people who have horrible vision?
Well for starters, the most advanced equipment costs a cool $2 million, and if you're doling out Lasik procedures for $500, how in the heck are you paying for the equipment? Second, cheap procedures aren't going to help pay off that medical school these docs supposedly went to. Third and finally, I believe that medically you get what you pay for. I for one don't want to come out of anesthesia with burned eye balls, blasted teeth and crooked nipples.

Up, Up and Away!!

Caleb has entered the questioning stage. I am daily bombarded with thousands of questions about everything, everyone, and anyhow. Many of his questions are asked while he is watching a movie.
"Mom, what are toymites (termites)?"
"TER-mites. They are little bugs that eat wood."
"Why do toymites eat wood?"
"Caleb, it's TER-mites."
"But Popeye says toymites."
"Yeah, but it's really TER-mites."
"Why does Popeye have toymites?"
"I don't know. Sometimes they just come around."
"And they eat your house?"
"No, not the whole house. This is just a cartoon."
"Mom, how come toymites can't eat Popeye's house now?"
"He rebuilt it out of steel."
"Mom, what is steel?"
"It's a very hard metal."
"Mom, toymites might eat steel tomorrow."

I find it so cool to tell my kids about new things. One morning it was about the solar system. Lily wanted to know why it was morning but we could still see the moon, and I explained to her about Earth and how it rotates around the sun, etc. Then I went on to explain that there were many planets, but only one with humans on it.
"Mom, can we go to the planets?" Lily asks.
"Well, people have been to the moon but that's it."
"Why are they not going to the other ones?"
"They're really far away."
"We better get a fast rocket ship!" Caleb quips.
"Even the fastest rocket would still take a long time to reach other planets. Imagine if you got on one today and it traveled as fast as it could go, you still wouldn't get to the farthest planet until you were almost 100 years old!"
--a collective WOW--
"But mom, I just want to be six when I get there!"

On a side note, Great Expectations did not live up to my expectations. I was interested in it; I just didn't want to put in the effort to try and decipher the old worldly text. I think I'll stick with good old John Steinbeck.

Weight Hate

I hate scales.
I really do.
One says 235, another says 229, and still another says 239.
What the heck?
What kills me is I step on Melissa's and it says 229 like it should. Then I get off and step back on and it says 235. Then I try again and it says 234. Every time!!
I think maybe I need to focus on getting taller instead. They say yoga stretches your spine and can add an inch to your height.
Yeah right.

Jammin'

I was on my way home tonight and a cool song came on the radio. I really liked it and I was jamming out when I realized I was car-dancing to Michael Jackson's "Beat It."
Oh well.

For Your Reading Pleasure

I found some of my old poems today. Talk about morbid! They all talk about dying and crap. Good grief. Let us all take a moment to thank the Lord for pharmaceuticals and those who dole them out. I've begun a new phase in my reading. I've gone from Stephen King to the classics. Today I came home from the library with Tolstoy, Steinbeck, Dickens, Dickinson, Dumas and Twain. What was I thinking? I started War and Peace thinking that since it has been hailed as "the best novel ever written" it must be good, even at 1300 pages. Right? WRONG.
I couldn't even get through the first fifty pages. I'm not a stupid person but these sentences were so complicated, using words in an order I have never seen before, that I felt utterly retarded! Bah humbug! So now I am working on Great Expectations, which looks promising. I'll let you know.
The children are at Nana's for Spring Break. Now I have no company except the nine books I brought home from the library today. I am so very bored.
So bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
People, I was so bored I was farting and laughing at myself.
Lily called me today and said she was losing a tooth, "FINALLY. NOW I can be like JOSH and ALEXIS, they don't have any TEETH." Uh, okay. Then Nana told me she didn't have a loose tooth, but that it looked like she was trying to get a molar on the right side of her mouth. Poor kid, always disappointed.
It rained all day today so I opened my window and listened to it while I wrote. I have always wanted to write a complete book but I never have. Just to give you a taste...
'She shook with fear and said "I hate you!" to which he replied, "I never asked you to love me."'
Spooky stuff huh?
I've been contemplating whether I should introduce some preschool stuff to Caleb or not, since he may be going this fall. I got online (love the Internet) and printed off a page where you had to draw a line from the letter to the picture that started with said letter. We sit.
"Caleb, what is this?"
"A crab!"
"Right! What does crab start with?"
--blank stare--
"Does it start with a cuh like a C, an err like an R, a buh like a B, or a fuh like an F?"
"B!"
"What does crab START with?"
--blank stare again--
"Does it start with cuh, err, buh or fuh?"
"Buh!"
"No, what does it START with? It ENDS with buh, but what does it START with?"
"Uh... B!"
Okay. So much for preparatory work (look at my big words!).

10 Down, 70 To Go

I am now weighing in at 229.6!!!
Go me!!!!

For The Love Of Scrapping

I've started scrap booking. Thanks Melissa. Its a very fun hobby and I enjoy making layouts, finding pictures, buying scissors, buying paper, buying punch out letters, buying special glue sticks... ok maybe my new hobby is spending money....
What I do not like is copying the pictures to put into the scrap book. Nine times out of ten they either don't scan right or don't print right. Wal-mart does have a pretty good Kodak kiosk that copies and prints pretty well.
I went there yesterday and stuck my memory stick into the machine. As I scrolled through the pictures, I came across some that were.... uh... not of my face. Or James'. I swear I actually heard the two little old ladies behind me gasp as I yanked out the stick and pounded on "Print Order" as fast as I could. Needless to say, I didn't get all the pictures printed that I had intended. I am SO glad Lily wasn't there. Oh. My. Gosh. She has this talent of making a horribly embarrassing situation WORSE.
Anyway, I mosey over to Melissa's town and I still had eight pictures to scan and print. So I gathered my courage, stuck Lily and Caleb in a buggy and headed to the Kodak picture maker. One of them was out of order. The other was being occupied by a woman who was talking very loudly on her cell phone. She stuck in her memory card, scrolled through a couple of pages of pictures, hit "Select All" and proceeded to print 233 4X6 pictures. Apparently she thought "Select All" meant select all the pictures on the screen at the time. No joke people. The kids were being entertained with a bag of doughnuts so I figured what the heck, I really needed these copies to scrap. So we waited. Here are just some snippets of conversation I had the pleasure of hearing while I waited for 45 minutes:

"Yeah, my baby daddy he be trippin' cause I tole him I hope his truck burn up in a motha *** fire or su'in cause he thank its mo' 'portant than his keed!"
"Girl, I hope they's enough paper fo yo pitchers!"
"Yeeh, dat my baby gurl right thurr, she all cute in hurr pink hoodie look like her daddy and all!"
"*** I di'nt know it be printin' like 200 of the sum***ches!!"
"Carl! CARL! This be makin' all my pitchers and stuff an not makin them into a CD!"
"Girl I think I gon run outta paper, I di'n know it be printin' all these, I'm soory!"

Yes, as it spit out print after print she made two picture Cd's of everything on her memory card. I don't even know why I waited. I guess because I love scrap booking so much and I thought on maybe the tiniest offhand chance I may get eight more to print when she was done, and the kids were being really good. Sure enough, it ran out of paper. Then she starts complaining because it didn't print out all 233 pictures, but only 189. Then there was this, my favorite part:

"CARL!! It done run out the paper, and I ain't get 'em all! You got more paper back in 'ere?"
--No--
"Kin you get sum dat paper outta that machin' right thurr? It be the same right?"
--No--
"D***. Well I guess I coulda ax Carl to cancel the *** pitchers 'cause I ain't be gettin' all my pitchers today an'way!!"

WAIT. The thought of cancelling the whole order crossed your mind?? Why didn't you cancel it?? Why am I still standing here?? THEN Carl kindly points me to a machine around the corner that will scan my pictures and print them out in 30 minutes. Gee, thanks Carl. So I scan my eight pictures while Miss Thang over there goes on and on about not getting all her pictures and then starts making remarks about the price of 2 picture Cd's and 189 prints. Hint: it was upwards of $50. No joke. The kids and I walk around the toy isle for 30 minutes and then pick up the pictures and guess what?
They look like CRAP.
By then I am thoroughly pissed at Wal-mart and the human population in general, so I storm out of there, go to Melissa's and scan my pictures.
They printed beautifully, and we had a spectacular time scrapping.
Until the kids woke up and poured three bottles of cleaning detergents onto the bedroom floor. Lily swears she was coerced into it, but I have a feeling she didn't put up much of a fight.

That Holy (?) Feeling 8

I don't know where how to classify this event, so I'll just go with Holy Feeling.
The paranormal is a pretty interesting subject. Psychics, telekinesis, telepathy, television; you know what I mean. I think some people have a God-given gift but most are just crap.
I've had a couple of... odd things happen to me throughout my life. Feeling watched, dreams about places that I see months or even years later, deja vu type stuff. Looking in to this kind of stuff really makes you wonder just how complex our brains are and how much about it that we don't know. Praise the Lord that He still has the blueprint, because I know no human could ever reproduce it. It's really insane.
Anyway, I was driving to pick up Lily one of the past 10 or so days ago. As I approached the stop sign a young kid in a white hoodie ran across the street to the corner. Not enough for me to slam on the brakes but you know. Then a vision flashed in my head of me actually hitting this kid. I mean slam thump thud hitting him. It didn't last long. I pulled to the stop sign and stopped and looked to my left, because I was turning right. No one was coming. Normally I don't look to my right because I'm not turning left and therefore do not need to know if anyone is coming from that direction (sorry Mom). So I turn...
and miss that stupid kid in the white hoodie by INCHES. Apparently he'd decided to cross the street a few seconds before I turned. Now tell me that isn't weird!!

The He-Child Sings And Other Things

I've been reading a lot of Dr. Seuss lately. Can you tell?
That song by Marky Mark, "Good Vibrations," came on the radio and Caleb was in the back seat saying "Uhhh.... yeah.... uhhhh......uh huh... Mom, this is my favorite song!!"

Lily got glasses two weeks ago. They cost $375 because they had to have a prism and bifocal lenses (thanks, Z, for that contribution). She looks so cute!

Lily type:
1 is the best number uv oll.

Scope Poke

James recently had a scope done by his gastrologist to determine if he had any ulcers, green mold etc. in his stomach. I escorted him to the hospital to drive him home after the procedure. When he finally had the thing done (they didn't have him scheduled for that day, or any other day for that matter; the usual 2 hour waiting room wait time and another hour "behind the curtain"), I was looking forward to getting out of there because I was hungry and grumpy and stuff. But no. We had to wait another 30 minutes to make sure "he handles the anesthetic alright." He didn't die when you put him under, he's fine now! So I endured 30 minutes of my husband coming off of his high.


"Whoa!! That was amazing!! They like wheeled me in there, put this thing on my face, and I was like asleep! Just like that! It was like the best short nap EVER. What was that stuff? Can you like buy it? I bet I would sleep a lot better at night. Hey, probably you would too! That was so cool, I was like OUT LIKE A LIGHT and then BAM I was in here. I gotta call Justin and let him know everything went well. We put up some of those lights in that house on the lake. See how they are recessed like that? That was so awesome. BAM!! OUT!! Is that the pictures of my stomach? Wow! It looks kinda cool! What are those bumps, do you think they're normal? I didn't even feel that scope thing, I mean I saw it but I went to sleep so fast and wow, it was over quick! Hey you should keep these pictures and scrapbook them! Wouldn't that be cool? No? Are you sure? Man, I'm hungry. Can we leave now? Wendy's sounds sooo good right now. One of those bacon double cheeseburgers, maybe like TWO I'm so hungry!! Oh hey nurse! Yeah, doing good just kind of hungry. Did you see my pictures? Gross huh? Yeah I wanted to get this done because I might be deployed here pretty soon and my parents were all worried that I would get over there and have something like MAJORLY wrong, so I thought I'd get it checked out, you know, calm the parents down. Can we take these pictures? Are you sure? Cool, thanks!"


Then I had to take his high self to Wendy's. It was fun. Then I went to Melissa's and left him at home to come off his high alone, because when you're the only sober one it sure isn't fun.

The He-Child Fibs

Lately we have been struggling with Caleb fibbing. Small things, I know, but eventually they will grow into larger things. We're just trying to get it under control now while we still can.

Papa: "Whoa boy, it stinks in this bathroom!"
Caleb: "Mimi did it."
Mimi: "I did not!!"

Me: "Caleb, did you draw on the counter?"
Caleb: "Uh, nope."
"Are you sure?"
"Uh, yeah?"
"Come here and look at it."
--trudges over--
"See, that looks like scribbles. Lily usually draws names, hearts and caricatures of her family members. This looks like something you would do."
--smiles, looking up at me--
"So... did you draw on the counter?"
"Uh, nope!"
"Who do you think did?"
"Uh, Lily!"
"Lily isn't here. It's just you and me, and i don't draw on counters."
--smiles--
"So I think you need to go get a washcloth and clean this off."
"Uh, okay!"

Weight Loss Motivation

I went to the doctor a few weeks ago because I haven't been sleeping well. Actually, I hadn't been sleeping at all. She ran all these tests that required quarts of blood and my liver enzymes came back elevated. On I went to the imaging center to have a sonogram done. They got the results back today and guess what? I have a fatty liver. The doctor said to diet and exercise and come back in three weeks for follow-up blood work. But the best part was when she said that in three months if my levels weren't normal she would be lowering or eliminating my antidepressants ("You know, because regular exercise produces endorphins and maybe you won't even need those medicines!"). I looked at her point blank and said "No you won't." Flabbergasted, she said "Uh, what?" I told her we wouldn't be messing with my antidepressants because I've tried it and it DID NOT WORK. She said we will see in three months.

I don't think she really understood how close she came to being beheaded with the sheer force of my brain waves. You don't mess with a crazy person's medications, especially if you're an R.N., C.N.P. If anyone is going to play Russian Roulette with my head, it's going to be a doctor with as many psychological letters behind his name as scholarly possible.

But if she insists, I could always do what my mom suggested: move in with her until my fatty liver is gone and I can restart my antidepressants.

On a lighter note (pardon the pun), I've lost 5 pounds!! WOO HOOO!!!!!

Lily's First Paragraph

"Mom liks wrc. Dad liks wrc to. I lik et and Mom dusnt plas (play) weth us. But Dad plas weth us." Yes, I do!!

Have you ever had writer's block? If you want to know what it feels like, pick a wall in your house, back up 3 feet and run into it repeatedly. There you go.

James got a laptop and I'm feeling, uh, left out of the fun.

A bass guitar: $169.00

PlayStation 2: $130

Guitar Hero 2: $80

Acer laptop: $710

A low maintenance wife: priceless

Writing Project

What happens when life pauses?


It had been a long, hard day. The kids were finally fed, bathed, asleep. She was tired. The kids wore her out; she prayed for patience. Prayed all day and night. When the kids cried, she prayed. When the bills couldn’t get paid, she prayed. When his raise still had not come though, she prayed. Every time she grew weary of praying, grew tired of seemingly unanswered prayers, she prayed. For faith. For strength. For comfort.
She lay there like she did ever night after reading too long. Tonight was Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck. The green library book was aged, binding loose with several pages taped back together. She held the book with affection, read each work with tenderness, turned each page with care. Her eyes soaked in every word. Too soon was it midnight, and she tore herself away. No tooth-brushing tonight.
She lay on top of the blanket and sheets. It was another humid summer night. The fan hummed lazily on medium, moving hot air over her body. She wore a thin tank top and no bottoms. She lay on her bed, her heavy eyes closing quickly. She dreamed of him. Him coming home. Him holding her. His touch.
Her eyes opened; she heard something. She lay still. It sounded like footsteps. Sandals sliding on the carpet. Rounding the corner from the living room (her heart pounded) coming in her room. Stopping. Probably her young daughter; she opened her eyes. The door was still closed. Maybe she was just hearing things.
Slipping into a doze she felt it. Her sixth sense awakened her. A strange presence close by. Peaceful. Someone standing beside the bed, leaning over to look at her. The heaviness was almost palpable. She dared not open her eyes.
"Lord? Is that you?"


Cheap motel on a forgotten street. Dingy, dirty rooms. Threadbare greenish carpet surrounding one twin bed. Blanket thin, no sheets, distorted mattress. One window, with a peeling sill and cloudy view of the load street outside. Plaid curtains she quickly pulls together. The room stinks of mold, urine and neglect. The walls are yellowish with years of smoky air. One tattered night stand holding one rotary beige phone. Probably doesn’t work. She doesn’t belong here, but she sits. She has no choice. No chance.
She lays still. Turning, she looks at the gray door with it’s two locks. Dirty doorknob, dirt-encrusted peephole. Dirty life. She doesn’t hear the commotion outside, who knows what that could be. She hears her pleas to get up, get out, go back. Just open the door. Just walk. Just go. No consequences, nothing said.
She imagines her hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly. Imagines the foggy city air as she steps outside and peers around. Imagines the dirty people sitting on dirty steps, talking about dirty things while their dirty children play. She imagines walking, step after step. Just one at a time. Back to where she came from. Before.... this.
He moves her, and that is her only movement. Her face pressed into the pillow, she coughs into the moldiness. It smells like dying. She turns her head to the side, her eyes watering. She stays still, now facing a yellowish wall. Flat, ugly, unimportant. Unseen but not overlooked. She is still.
Done. Irreparable. Yelling, slapping. Stinging pain. The door slams shut. Alone. She opens her eyes and curls her naked body into itself. She cries silently. Through her tears she sees two crumpled twenties sitting on the dirty night stand. Dirty money. Dirty deed. Dirty new beginning.

***Notes From Self***
Back when I was applying for scholarships and stuff one sponsor wanted me to write a short essay about something, only it couldn't be more than 300 words. Well, a 300 word limit is hard for me. I was like, that's just kind of pausing in the middle of a story! So then I thought, what if you could pause time and then go from person to person and see what they are doing at that moment? That was kind of the theme. Crazy I know.

Another Writing I Found Today

Just when you think you’ve put everything behind you, that you’ve effectively buried your past under heaps of dirt and concrete, something happens that reminds you that your past is still there, right behind you, under every step you take and shaping every decision you make. For some those reminders come once in a while, others more regularly. For others, like me, it happens daily, my past baring its teeth and swiping its claws at my happiness. No specific thing sets it off. You can be standing there and suddenly you smell a certain smell, hear a certain phrase. You’re caught off guard and BAM! The past pulls you back into its clutches and you have to fight with everything you have to come out on top again.
Sometimes I get tired of fighting it. Is it a sin to sit back for a few moments and relive your past, savoring old tastes, relishing old emotions? Imagining, just for a moment, that your husband is one of your past lovers? That you have no children? No responsibilities?

Scholarship Essay

Here's an essay I wrote for a scholarship I applied for.

How My World Would Be Different If I Didn't Have A Computer

A day in my life without the invention of the modern computer would be pretty boring. I would wake up around 7 a.m. and go for my usual morning walk. I would return home and shower, dress and make coffee. I would then check the mail, throwing out the junk. Upon opening my bank statement, I would find that two checks bounced last week, and I have been charged $50. Without my computer, I didn't catch my mistake in time to instantly transfer some of my savings to my checking to avoid the fees. I am angry.
After checking the mail and calling the bank, I would sit in my recliner and try to call my husband, who is in the military and stationed over seas. As usual, there is no answer. Is he okay? I haven't heard from him in a week or so. Without the computer, the leader of our support group cannot email us wives and tell us that our husband are in special training, where phones are not allowed. Instead, she must call every wife on her list of 135, which takes time that she has little of.
My day continues, and I trek to the library to borrow their word processor so that I can type my scholarship essay. When I finish and bring it home I discover a few spelling errors and, frustrated, I have to return to the library tomorrow.
I finish the day with my evening bike ride, only to be drenched in the pouring rain that, five miles from home, snuck up on me. Fancy my not having a computer to check the weather forecast in my area.
Now I'm in bed with a cold, detailing plans to invent the first computer!

The Long Walk On Short Pier

I'll probably get some flack for this, but oh well.

As my faithful readers know by now, I became pregnant with Lily via artificial insemination by a race of supernatural beings looking for something to do one February night in 2001. Or something along those lines.
Since then, I have bounced back and forth between sympathy and disdain for the sperm donor. Call me crazy, but I thought he'd come back and want to be a decent part of her life when he was ready. When he got another girl pregnant and left her, my eyes began to open. Now that he's left a third baby behind, my cloudy vision is gone.

It has taken me 6 years, many tears, a new and wonderful relationship, several false starts, numerous endings, endless prayers, days of Scripture reading, and several great friends and family members to strengthen me enough so that I can say:
I'm tired of being torn, mistreated, cursed at, coerced, lied to, defeated, and scared.
We have a family, we have a life. We don't need you.
God has a plan for you, but it doesn't involve us.
Through God I am strong. I can end this.
~~~~~~~~
There is a site called PostSecret. It started as one man's community art project and grew into a multinational phenomenon. He set out hundreds of blank postcards all over his town and invited passersby to take one, decorate one side with their darkest secret and mail it to him anonymously. So here is my PostSecret, going in the mail tomorrow.

Short Trip To Heaven

"Mom."
"Yeah."
"I want to see heaven."
"Well, when you get older God will take you to heaven."
"I don't want to wait until I am OLD. I want to go now."
"God gets to decide when you go to heaven, Lily. Not me."
"Mom? How do you get to heaven?"
"You go to heaven when you die."
--pause--
"Mom?"
"Yeah."
"Can you kill me so I can go to heaven and see it?"
"Um, no."
"But why?"
"Because the Bible says you can't kill anyone, and if I do I will go to jail and you will be gone forever."
"No I won't! I'll be right back! I just want to see it for a minute!"
"Lily, when you die you can't come back to life. You stay dead and you stay in heaven."
--pause--
"Please?"
"No Lily. It's just one of those things."
--sigh, ho hum--
Caleb: "Mom?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you gonna kill Sissy?"

History Lesson

Apparently Lily has been learning about Martin Luther King this week.
In Wal-Mart yesterday she overheard on a television something about MLK, to which she very loudly remarked:
"MOM!! I LEARNED ABOUT MARTIN LUTIN KING IN SCHOOL! THE WHITE PEOPLE SHOT HIM AND KILLED HIM BECAUSE THEY DON'T HAVE GOOD MANNERS!!!"
Oy vie.
"MOM, WHY DID THE WHITE PEOPLE KILL MARTIN LUTIN KING?"
Needless to say, we made the quickest exit from a Wal-Mart on record.
This incident reminds me of the time I went to my cousin Lauren's house. She has a wall decorated with her daughter's school work. They had been learning the letter K at some point, as depicted by an artwork that proclaimed:
K K
K
Love those preschoolers.

Waddle Waddle, Quack Quack

Driving aimlessly around town the other afternoon I decided to take the children to the Kiwanis park ("But there aren't any Kiwanis there," as Lily would have you know). Upon parking and opening the car door, we were swarmed by ducks looking for a handout. My kids FREAKED.
"AHHHH! Mom! They're gonna EAT ME!!"
"Make them go away!"
"Ewww, they're UGLY Mom!"
I tried to explain to them that if they would just walk towards them, the ducks would back away. They didn't believe me. Finally I coaxed Lily out of the car and she ran to the playground unharmed. Caleb I had to drag out of the car and plop him in the middle of the ducks, who fled. He stopped crying and watched them run away.
"See, I told you they would go away."
"But they were gonna eat me."
So he goes and plays on the playground for a little while, and I call them back to go home. Of course the ducks are back, preventing the kids from getting to the car.
"Mom!! They're gonna eat me again!!"
"No they're not! Remember? They're gonna run away!"
"No they won't!!"
Lily gets brave and tries to catch a duck, who waddles away. She gets into the car. Caleb is still mortified.
"Caleb! They won't hurt you! They're just ducks!!"
He starts crying again, so I walk through the parted sea of ducks and retrieve my son from the alien ultra scary man-eating ducks.
Now, if they were geese I would have kept driving, but I think they migrate or something. But these ducks have grown up in the park, therefore I knew they weren't going to hurt the kids. Besides, if they did charge or whatever they do, one swift kick would have gotten them away.
I found this episode funny. Lily did too, after a while. Mimi did not. Caleb has forgotten the whole incident and will probably grow up to write a fabulous screenplay about man eating ducks that will make him a millionaire.

Driving Tips For You Idiots

1. If the speed limit in a school zone is 20 m.p.h., I'm going 20 m.p.h.!! Quit honking at me because you're running late!!
2. At a four way stop, the person who gets there first goes first. If two people get there at the same time, the person on the right goes first. If four people arrive at the same time, SOMEONE GO!! It doesn't matter who!! Quit playing chicken!!
3. Get off my bumper. It's really annoying and I WILL brake check you.
4. This is one for the stupids delivering children at the school. Don't walk out in front of a moving vehicle with two children!! I can't count the times an aid has done this and if I hadn't been watching... well, you can guess.
5. If you have your blinker on, please turn somewhere. Anywhere.
6. To the lady going 35 in her Hummer down the main strip: you paid $60K for all that horsepower, use it! Or are you trying to save on gas?
7. If I take longer than 0.2 seconds to gun the gas when the light turns green, don't honk at me or I'll just sit there and make you even more late.
8. If you have a super cool bass system, blare it in your driveway. It impedes my concentration, scares my kids and makes you look stupid.
9. Spinning hubcaps really bother me. I tend to stare at them instead of the road. Spin them in your driveway please.
10. Don't try to pass me when we are both turning left at the same intersection. That's stupid and dangerous.

Those Genes Look Good On You! 3

My dad grew up on a dairy farm in northern Indiana. The area that his family hails from gets pretty freaking cold four months out of the year. I'm talking highs of 30 and lows of 10, with the snowfall levels about 50% more than the national average. Anyway, Dad and Grandpa have always regaled us kids with crazy stories about when they were growing up (remind me to tell you the one about blowing up the gopher hill with dynamite; oh, and the drunken parrot named Pete). Dad has also used these stories to remind us of how lucky we are compared to the hardships he grew up with ("When I was twelve I had to get up at the crack of dawn and break up the ice in the cow troughs with an ax! Now you stop complaining about the car not being warmed up enough to turn the heater on and SUCK IT UP!!").
One of the many stories he told was about a truck he or Grandpa had when he was a teenager that was quite particular about who drove it when and where. One thing this truck absolutely hated was being washed. An occasional rain storm was fine, but if you dared even one soapy drop on its fender, it wouldn't run for days.
I have hair like that.
Once when I was thirteen or so my mom tried to give me a perm. It stayed curly for a whole day and washed out the next. A couple of years later I tried out the big curl over your forehead 'do. It never worked. I either got this horn-ish monstrosity or a hair spray stuck blowout over my brow. The only thing my hair will do is be washed and be brushed. No fancy spritzers here, woman! How dare you!
Anyway, the other day I went and got my haircut. The hairdresser put a little mousse in my hair, blow dried it, and bam! I had, like, a hairdo. I thought cool! Now I can do my hair and show my husband that yes, there is a little bit of femininity left in his wife. So I went to Dollar General and bought a blow dryer, a round brush and some mousse. The next day, I took a shower and recreated the steps I saw the hairdresser perform. Do you know what I got?
Super duper volume. Like, the bottom of my hair sat a full three inches away from my back. Too much mousse? I don't know. But I was tired of fumbling with the blow dryer and trying to brush/curl the ends of my hair at the same time, because everything goes backwards in a mirror and I'd burned myself too many times for it to be funny anymore.
Stupid truck hair.

New Year's Eve 2008

Booze at the liquor store: $58.72

Margarita glasses: $24.99

Bag of ice: $1.92

Having to go to bed at one a.m. because you're getting too old for this s#it: priceless

Vacation Time

Well, the kids are at Nana's this week, and James is at work, and I should be happy but really I'm kind of bored. Sometimes I go in their room and yell "Stop that or I'll spank you both!" just to get it out of my system. It doesn't help when they won't talk to me on the phone either. Caleb screams and runs away, and Lily usually says something along the lines of "Can she call back later?" or "Maybe in a little bit." It baffles me because while Caleb has never really been the talky type, Lily sure as heck is, but not lately. Just one of those things I guess.
James and I cleaned out our closet last night. Now I can walk from one side of the closet to the other, and I don't have to hang on to the doorway and lean way in to get his empty hangers. How did he get back there to get his shirts anyway?

Vag Finder 2

Lately Lily has been having some discomfort "down below," so I've been trying to teach her about female hygienics in a six year old way. She's started taking showers by herself now, and I started by explaining that we need to keep that area clean so it won't "get sick" and so on. I told her to prop one leg up, stand under the shower stream and splash water down there to "wash" it. She looked at me, and in all seriousness said:
"You can open it?!!"
Girl there's lots of things you can do with it, goodness knows your brother yanks on his enough, but that's another talk for another day.

RANT: Castrate Him!!

I learned recently that the sperm donor has claimed victim number three. SOMEONE CASTRATE THIS GUY!!! THIS IS RIDICULOUS!!! Seriously! If he hasn't taken care of his other two children, WHAT IN THE WORLD makes you think he's going to take care of another? The Pill, people!! Condoms, sponges, Ziploc baggies!! Anything!!
The sad thing is that one day Lily is going to want to know about him and if he has any other children and I'll have to tell her that I DON'T KNOW BECAUSE HE GOT SOMEONE PREGNANT ABOUT EVERY THREE YEARS SINCE YOU WERE BORN AND I LOST TRACK OF THEM ALL. I think I'll start a club. The ZIMSD Club (Z. Is My Sperm Donor). No club fees, because I know you're all buying diapers and formula. Free T-shirts so we can all go together to knock down his door and drag him to court. C'mon, we'll arrange play dates or something.
That's all.

Christmas 2007

Well Christmas this year went pretty smoothly. My kids made out like bandits, we traveled the prerequisite 800 miles, and James and I get some time away from the kids. True to tradition, here is a vague rundown of what we got:

• Hi-Ho Cherry-O! -- The kids love the game, though Lily's sing song "Hiii Hoooo Cherrry Oohhhh!" can get a little annoying.
• Two Candy lands, Twister Moves (should be interesting), Junkyard Jalopy and Littlest Pet Shop games.
• A million Hanna Montana Barbies and a fully equipped Barbie house (so many small pieces....).
• Four remote controlled cars, 80 Matchbox cars, and a Transformers bed set.
• Candy, candy and more candy. Which reminds me, my parents always gave us oranges and nuts in our stockings... wtf??
• Clothes, hair dowdies and hats.
• Two race car tracks.
  
• A bunch of other stuff that I can't remember.
  
  As for us, we got:
• A wine rack.
• PS2 games.
• A family heirlooms fill-out book.
• Money (always welcomed).
• Candy, candy and peanuts.
• Six rolls of wrapping paper for only 45 cents a piece from Wal-Mart's after Christmas sale (oh wait, I bought those... still exciting though!)
• An extra six pounds. *sigh*
• A collage from Melissa that is so cute!
  
• Paintings that my grandmother painted that I have always wanted.
• I got to see my babies!!
  We got to see a lot of family, friends and consume large amounts of food. I don't know why I gripe about Christmas, I always wind up loving it.
  

Five Fun Things To Do While Your Children Are Away

1. Listen to your husband play his new PS2 games and try to imagine what scene he's reacting to.
2. Play hide and seek with the guinea pig.
   **Note: He hides and you do the seeking.
3. Wash, dry, fold and put away every cloth or cloth-like object in your house.
4. Sort the kid's toys and give most to the Salvation Army.
5. Play "Where Is That Smell Coming From?"
   
   For some added fun, call the AT&T internet people, make up a problem with your computer, and contradict every suggestion they make.
   

The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

Christmas. Again.
Can't we just skip a year? I guess I shouldn't be so pessimistic. It's just that:

1. I finished buying all my presents in June, and then someone pops up and says "Hey! Let's do a Chinese/Japanese/Korean Christmas exchange!" or "Hey! Let's exchange ornaments!!" So I made my exchange ornaments. I guess I should reserve some cash for such instances, but alas, I will repeat the lesson until it is learned.

2. "What do you want for Christmas?" I don't know! I like Olive Garden, Wal-Mart and Dollar General, so get me some gift cards! "Oh, but you must want something else..." Not really. I like to eat and save money. That's about it. Unless you can pony up for a Caribbean cruise or a laptop....

3. "What do the kids/husband want?" I don't know that either! The first two are 6 and 3, anything you get them they'll like! The third is a big kid at heart, so he'll like anything you give him too! He's really partial to chicken pot pies!

4. Five families having dinners and present exchanges at seventeen different places in six different cities in one day. C'mon people! Although I have to give kudos to mom and Granny for rounding nearly everybody up for one day this year.

5. Christmas music. Bah humbug. I don't know why, but Christmas music drives me bonkers, and guess who loves it and has to hear it every time we get into the car or they'll throw a double tantrum fit? Yup, that would be my kids.

6. Thinking about this Christmas reminds me that James will be gone for next Christmas, and all the other soldiers who aren't with their families this year.

7. Christmas lunch/dinner/next day's breakfast. All very tasty, all very fattening. Eating salad while everyone else is eating turkey and dressing just isn't fair!!

8. The freaking tree, man. I'm redecorating every day because my three year old likes to take the ornaments off and play with them. I also had to hunt down the stockings and rehang them today. At least I don't have a cat that tears down the lights, though.

9. Cold, cold, cold. Good grief! Can't we move Christmas to June? My coat makes me look fat.

10. Travel. Four hours in the car with two screaming kids and Dora the Explorer? Where's that special eggnog?

But.... I have to remember that:
1. Chinese exchanges usually turn out to be fun.

2. I'll get at least one interesting gift this year and

3. so will my kids and husband.

4. I'll get to see a lot of family that I haven't seen in years.

5. Christmas music gets the kids singing and that's pretty funny!
("Up onna roof is reindeers, with Santa and toys, comin' down the chinney he makes noise...")

6. James will be home for Christmas 2009 and many more, and hopefully the war will be over soon.

7. I can practice portion control and not gain too much weight.

8. The tree sure is pretty all lit up and stuff.

9. I'll still look fat in my coat, but maybe it will snow.

10. Benadryl, baby. Double doses for everyone!!

Let's not forget the best reason for enduring the holiday hustle: the birth of our Saviour, Jesus Christ.

Singing In The Rain

Lily has started taking showers by herself, and boy does she belt out the tunes!
"Woo loo LOOOOO, surprises for YOOOOO, and me TOOOOO!!"

Caleb has a pillow that he loves a la Linus. It is red, white and blue with stars on it and it is the ugliest thing I think a kid could be attached to. He takes that thing everywhere: out of town, taking Lily to school, Wal-Mart, friend's houses, you name it. Recently I overheard Caleb say something quite interesting while hugging his pillow:
"I really love my Holly B (our last name)."
Um, wait a minute! "What?"
So he said it again: "I love my Holly B."
"Who is Holly B?" I asked.
"My pillow, Mom!"
So the whole day he goes around saying I love Holly B, Holly B is my best friend, let's eat lunch Holly B and so on. What makes this incredibly ironic is Holly is the name of James' ex wife! All day I had to listen to him raving about Holly, all the while trying to decide if I should correct him or not. Would that be correcting? Probably just mindful prodding. When Lily got home, I asked her why Caleb kept calling his pillow Holly B, and she said because it was close to Christmas time.
"Huh?"
"Christmas means you kiss people under the holly bush Mom!"
"You mean mistletoe."
"It's a holly bush."
"Ok."
Then I felt better.

Oh, The Insanity

Dear Ms. Beddo,

It has come to our attention that your account with us has become 60 days past due. As of December 10th, 2007, you owe us a total of $1.57. Your prompt attention to this matter is appreciated, as accounts past due by 90 days or more WILL BE REPORTED TO ALL THREE MAJOR CREDIT BUREAUS. Thank you.

Sincerely,
(illegible scrawl)
Accounts Manager of We'reSoBroke, LLC


Seriously, are they really hurting so bad that me not paying $1.57 is going to cost this guy his job?! It would cost more to pay someone to process my check than the account balance is worth!

That Holy Feeling 7

There has been a long standing issue between James and I that recently came to a head again. I wanted to talk to James about it, but I needed the right words to say. So I prayed "Lord, I need Your guidance right now. Please give me the words to say so that this cycle will be broken. Amen."
And He said "Ok."
After a moment, He said "Tell James you think you and the kids should stay with your mom the next time you travel out of town."
"Ok."
.........
"I meant right now."
"Right now?"
"Yes."
"But I'm scared! What if he says this or brings up that or..."
"You asked for help, and I'm helping you."
"But I'm scared."
"But I'm with you."
"Ok."
So I tell James. He doesn't reply.
"Now tell him you think it would be better for all of you."
"What? That's nuts. I need more of an argument than that!"
"Not with Me you don't."
"Ok...."
...........
"You gonna say it?"
"Right now?"
"Yes."
"Ok."
So I say it, and James says "We could try it."
I was floored! "That's it?"
"That's it."
"Hey, thanks!!"
"Any time. Just pray."
And the situation has been getting better since!!

Vag Finder

My husband and I always have the same conversation most nights. It goes something like this:
"Look at this gut!" (jiggles his imaginary gut)
"Oh please."
"No really, look. I'm holding a good inch of fat here."
"You are not fat."
(turns to the side) "Yeah, I am."
"Look down. Can you see your penis?"
(laughing) "Yeah..."
"You know what? When I look down, I see stretch marks. No vagina. So you cannot be fat because your fat isn't blocking your view of your penis. Now shut up."
"You aren't fat, babe."
"Until I can see my vagina I am."
The defense rests.

Lies I Tell My Husband While He's Away

I NEVER pour cooking oil down the kitchen drain.
Sure, the kids brush their teeth every night.
They also got a bath today.
We had slices of honey glazed pork loin with whole grain brown rice and fresh broccoli for dinner.
Lily always gets to school on time.
I really don't mind changing diapers for Caleb.
I'm doing my Pilates right now, can I call you back?
This laundry is just so much fun!
Oh no, we get along GREAT when you're gone!
Sure, go to Red Lobster. Our finances are in ship-shape.
You put in ceiling fans today? That is SO fascinating!!
I'm fine without you here. Really. Don't worry!

What I Need

I did one of these things on Myspace where you type in "(your name) needs/wants/is a/died of" and Google it and repost the first search result you get. Here was mine:
Talia needs..... what is called in the social work field an "intervention."
Isn't that a hoot??
On another note, I called and closed the child support case. I just "forgave" $3085.33. Maybe I'll get a thank you card. Doubt it though.

A "Soft" Moment

The other morning as I was getting dressed, Lily sat down beside me and said
"I want Melissa to be my mom."
"Why?"
"Because she is soft and she is nice to me."
"But what if I want to keep you?"
"Well, I want her to be my mom."
"Well, I want to keep you."
"Why?"
"Because you grew in my body, and I had you, and I've had you for six years and I like you and you are mine. And I want to keep you."
She sat there for a minute, then gave me a big hug and walked downstairs and got dressed for school.
She hasn't said anything more about getting a new mommy.

Shot Myself In The Foot

Not really.
But now that I've bought James his new toy, he's morphed into a child. I don't know how many times I've yelled the following phrases:

"Turn that crap down!! The neighbors can hear it!!"
"You have to SHARE, James. Let the kids play too."
"One more song, then it's Lily's turn."
"Five more minutes, then it's time for bed."
"I mean it!! Five minutes!!"
"If you like it so much why don't you just MARRY it?"
"Scoot back from the T.V. You'll ruin your eyes."
"Come eat or your dinner will get cold!"

Geesh. This is crazy!!

You're My Favorite Wife

PlayStation 2 : $129.99

Guitar Hero 2: $79.95

Huge gift bag: $0.97

Seeing your husband's face when you give him his gift: priceless

Realizing afterward that you won't be getting any because he'll be playing the stupid game all night long: more priceless

The Magic Of Three

I survived a day with two 3 year olds today, Skylar and Caleb. Now Skylar I could write a whole book on, she's so... interesting. Anyway, I was upstairs blogging and my phone started ringing downstairs. Being the loaf that I am, I yell at Caleb to get the phone and answer it for me.
"Where is it?"
"On the bookshelf!"
--runs into his room--
"I can't find it!"
"It's in the living room on the bookshelf!"
--runs back into the living room--
"Where?"
"On the bookshelf!"
"I can help! I hear it!" says Skylar.
"Where's the bookshelf?"
"It's about seven foot tall with all of Mommy's books on it!"
"I still hear it!"
--phone quits ringing--
"Mom, it stopped!"
"OK. Never mind."
"You've got voicemail!" says my phone.
"The mail is here!"
"Yeah, let's go check the mail!"
--Caleb gathers his pillow and joins Skylar, in her ballerina costume, at the front door--
"Mom, let's go get the mail!"
So they fight the whole way to the mailbox over who gets to be the leader and all I got was junk mail.

A little while later, Caleb comes to me crying because the VCR is spitting out the tapes and turning itself off. I go over and inspect it, lift the door thing, hit it a few times, try a tape, and turn it off. "Well, you're just going to have to watch DVD's until Daddy gets home," I say. Skylar comes up to me wanting to watch How The Grinch Stole Christmas, a VHS.
"Skylar, that won't work."
"Why?"
"Because the VCR isn't working."
"But I want to watch this green guy!"
"Yeah I know, but it won't work in the VCR right now."
"Why?"
"Because it is broken."
"But... I wanted to watch this."
"Yes. I know. But you can't."
--Looking hurt--
"Why?"
--Deep breath--
"Because the VCR is broken."
"It's broken?"
"Yup."
"But..."
"Hey, do you like Barney?! Barney is on DVD!"
"Yeah!!"
The art of distraction.

Fat Vag

Fatty fatty, two by four
Couldn't fit in the thong from the store!
Looks so much better lying in the drawer
Should have gone up one size more!
Woe is me...

Magic With The B's

Recently the kids, my friend and her kids and I went to a Halloween themed magic show. At one point the magician asked for a volunteer from the audience, and guess who he picked? Yup. Lily.
"Come on up here little girl, what's your name?"
"My name is Lily."
"Hi, Lily! Are you ready to...."
"That's my brother Caleb. He's three. And there is Skylar, she's three too. And...."
"OK Lily, shuffle this deck of cards for me will you?"
What five year old knows how to shuffle a deck of cards?!
Three minutes..... four...
"OK Lily, go down into the audience and pick someone out."
Walks down there.... picks a two year old.....
"Let's pick an adult. How about you sir? Pick a card, any card!"
Picks a card.
"OK, now tear the corner off, remember your card, and put it back in the deck."
Complies, Lily walks back onto the stage.
"OK Lily now I have a question. Are you brave?"
"Uh... yeah!"
"OK. Here's my magic wand. I want you to point it to the black hat over there, say 'Abba Babba!' and wake up my pet snake Mike."
Points wand to hat, says abba babba.
"Hum, I guess you'll have to say it higher so he can hear you."
Raises wand, says abba babba.
"Um, I mean raise your voice so he can--"
Raises wand further up and says in a low voice abba babba, which send Melissa and I into giggles in the back row.
"Well, maybe he woke up that time. Why don't you go check?"
Looks at him very suspiciously.....
"Lily, are you brave?"
"Uh, yeah!"
"Go see if Mike is awake."
Walks over there, gets to the hat, out of which springs a fake snake, holding the torn card. She flies back across the stage, scared but excited. All the kids scream.
"Very good Lily! You woke up Mike! Look, he even has your card! Here, you can keep it, there you go!"
Lily goes back to her seat, clearly overjoyed with her 15 minutes of fame.
Well, it didn't go as bad as I thought it might.... whew.

That Holy Feeling 6

The Amish. I don't really know who they are or what they do, but I do know that on October 2, 2006, a man went to an Amish school and shot five students and then himself. This is an excerpt from the book Amish Grace:
"How did the Amish decide so quickly to extend forgiveness?
'You mean some people actually thought we got together to plan forgiveness?' chuckled Katie, a seventy-five year old grandmother....
'Forgiveness was a decided issue,' explained Bishop Eli. 'It's just what we do.... It was spontaneous... It was not a new kind of thing.' Forgiveness for Roberts and grace for his family had begun as spontaneous expressions of faith, not as mandates from the church.
'Why is everybody all surprised?' asked one Amish man. 'It's just standard forgiveness; it's what everybody should be doing.'"

What a definition of faith in God! Loyalty as Beth Moore defines it:
"Loyalty is when a sudden temptation poses a question of character, if we have true conviction, we don't have to consider how we'll react. The question is already answered; we just act upon it!"

That Holy Feeling 5

I've been reading a book by Beth Moore called Believing God. It's about believing God, not just passive believing in God. At one point she gave her readers this challenge:

1. Say the Pledge of Faith as many times per day as you can.
2. Record at least one Godstop per day (Godstops are instances where you see God working in or around your life).
3. Give up something for a set amount of time to further your personal sanctification toward God.

The first two were relatively easy. The last one... not so. I like everything in my life and I don't want to give any of it up!! Except for... these 50 pounds or so. Hmm... so, after some prayer I decided that for 40 days (since some significant stuff was accomplished in 40 days in the Bible) I would give up junk food, including but not limited to:

• ALL fast food
• Cookies, cake, pie
• White breads
• Crackers, tortillas, etc. (whole wheat is ok)
  
• Ice cream
• Excessive amounts of peanut butter
• Chocolate

I'm not doing this to put myself on a diet per se, but because it is something I have struggled with for a long time and I think it may be hindering my walk with God. How can you develop a friendship with someone if you're constantly thinking, talking and worrying about food and fat? Wish me luck, y'all. Taco Bell is sounding soooo good right now.....

Who Came Up With This Crap???

Who invented money? Why can't we all go back to bartering with salt and paprika? I could pay my car off quick, because HEB had a nice salt sale going on this week.
I, being the financial planner of this marriage, have decided that we need to:

1. Pay off our debts.
2. Start an emergency fund.
3. Load our retirement funds.
4. Buy a new car.
5. Buy a house.

To do that, we need to be making a bit more than $2K a month. So, when Caleb gets in school I plan on going to school, if we can afford it. What am I going for, you ask. I don't know. I wanted to be a nurse, but people tend to bleed, puke, and poop on nurses. A teacher would be nice, but 20 screaming six year olds is not my idea of fun, and strangling teenagers isn't either. Then I thought of psychology but, to quote a friend of mine, "I'd be scared to be in a room with some of those crazy people!!" Hey, we're not all that bad. I also thought about being an accountant or financial planner. AARRGGHH!!! Numbers!! But then I checked out this book, financial planning for retards or something, and I kind of got into stocks, bonds, the market, IRA's and stuff. I think it pays good, I guess I should figure that out too.
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not money hungry; after all, money is the root of all evil. But money can be the root of a pretty pear tree too. A cluster of pears being a home, another pear a car, one each for private tuition for the kids, and a trunk of retirement so I can devote all my time taking care of my crazy mom when she starts to REALLY go, since it is apparent that I have been nominated for the job (thanks, Taryn!).
But we're in a pretty good situation to start off in. We only have $8,000 in debt (the car), $1,000 in an emergency fund, and $2,000 in a Roth IRA, not counting his military retirement and a couple other employer retirement accounts). I figured up last night that if we save $300 a month until this car is paid off (48 months), we would have a nice chunk of change ($14,400) to pay for a new car. Thus not incurring any more debt. Now, if we could double that, we'd have a new car and a sizable down payment for a house. Then we could really start focusing on retirement and tuition and stuff.
Ah, the dreams I have. Meanwhile, I'm freaking out every time James spends $5.47 at Wendy's!! "James! We have lunch meat!! There goes our Honda Civic!! Geez!!" Easy, girl.

Rub-A-Dub-Dub

So last night I was feeling my age and decided to take a nice, hot bath with my new Aloe Vera bath beads. I turned on the water and cruised the Internet for a little bit. I went back in the bathroom and added my beads, turned the water off. Then I went to get in and KERPLOOSH!!! Half of the water spilled out over the sides and onto the floor. Guess a five foot by one foot bathtub can't hold 50 gallons of water and a 220 lb. woman. FINE. I didn't want that much water in here anyway!
So I go about my business and lay down to get my hair wet. Guess what? KERPLOOSH!! There goes another 20 gallons or so. Way to stroke the old ego there. By now I'm frustrated and not at all relaxed, so I wash my hair and soap up my washcloth. I get my upper body done but now I have to raise my lower body to wash it. I decide I don't have the arm strength to put my hands on either side of the bathtub and push myself up so I bend my left leg, and turn so that my other leg lengthens with the intention to thus get on my knees and stand from there (I was tired y'all). But now.... I'm stuck. My butt and my knee have me in a strange sort of vice grip and I..... can't really move. After cursing a little I grab the box of bath beads and pour the rest over me, lathering me up so my knee could slip an inch or so and break the boxing in it had created with my butt. I decided that the bath beads made my lower half clean enough and just got out. I think I'll stick with showers from now on....

The Twelve Days Of Being Rich

On the first day after receiving our tax refund my true love said to me:
"I really need a new toy for me!"
On the second day after receiving our tax refund my true love said to me:
"This car isn't what it used to be..."
On the third day after receiving our tax refund my true love said to me:
"Let's go to the sea!"
On the fourth day after receiving our tax refund my true love said to me:
"Look at this new CD!"
On the fifth day after receiving our tax refund my true love said to me:
"Wouldst thou like something for thee?"
On the sixth day after receiving our tax refund my true love said to me:
"This apartment sucks. I would like to leave."
On the seventh day after receiving our tax refund my true love said to me:
"There's this motorcycle I would like to see...."
On the eighth day after receiving our tax refund my true love said to me:
"For Halloween what do I want to be?"
On the ninth day after receiving our tax refund my true love said to me:
"Did you say you like Bonsai trees?"
On the tenth day after receiving our tax refund my true love said to me:
"These couches look like big old heaps."
On the eleventh day after receiving our tax refund my true love said to me:
"We could acquire a deed!"
On the twelfth day after receiving our tax refund my true love said to me:
"All this spending sure is tiring!"

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Let's Talk About Sex, Baby!!

I was sifting through all the stuff that James accumulated throughout his deployment in Egypt, and I came across some letters that I'd sent him. One started out with the usual "Hey how are you, we're good, the kids are great" stuff. Then I came across these snippets of conversation:
"My vagina emailed me and wanted a loan so she could buy a one way ticket to Egypt. I told her I would have to pull some strings."
"I'm about to die without a cigarette or a candy bar."
"My libido has acquired a spear and declared war. Pray for the troops!!"

"Don't worry, your kids are fine....."
Anyway, on another note isn't it funny how sex changes after you've been married a while? At first the big "trend" was for guys to be able to "go for HOURS." Not after four years. I mean call me weird but after 20 minutes it kinda gets boring (and if you have kids and it's been 20 minutes, you probably better finish up quickly anyway). I like to get done and, uh, STOP. None of this "recoup or warm up for round two" crap. There IS no round two. I'm done. If you're not, well I guess that's why you were born with hands. I want some ice cream and t.v.
Another "trend" was the whole size thing. You know, the bigger the better. Now I'm no fan of the barely-there fellows when it comes to the bedroom (I'm not sorry, get over it), but if he comes at me with a can of Coke or a Sequoia that just ain't gonna fly. Some women have cervices you know.
Yet another "trend" was to introduce new moves to the bedroom scene in the hopes of turning on your partner. After marriage and two kids, if just the fact that he's getting any at all doesn't turn him on then he's got problems. Further, some stuff I am not physically able to do no matter how "tantric" or "mind blowing" it may be. You try to get an elephant to stand on its elbows. Not gonna happen. So forget it.
"Trend" three is the having-sex-four-times-a-day phenomena that disappears after the conception of your first child. I don't care how horny you are, if it's your birthday or our anniversary, after 20 minutes LEAVE ME ALONE.
I'm glad I married a man who understands me and has almost the same needs/wants. I'm sure not many other guys out there would be as tolerable. Poor guy.

What My Parents Taught Me

• Raising three kids with little income SUCKS. But it is doable.
• Butter tubs can be washed and reused like a million times. So can dish towels.
  
• You can put a whole week's leftovers in a big pot, add some noodles and call it goulash. They'll eat it or they'll starve.
• With some juggling, you CAN keep four checks from bouncing before pay day.
• Three kids, two dogs, four cats, two pigs, one goat and eight chickens are just plain fun.
• You can fit a potbellied pig in the back of a 1993 Pontiac station wagon, though getting the smell out is kind of tricky.
• Spray painting said station wagon gray looks tacky.
  
• You can stretch laundry detergent twice as long if you dilute it.
• Speaking of laundry, who needs fancy dryer sheets?
• The "look" does exist.
• Sometimes, you just don't want to know what your kids were up to while you were gone.
  
• Deer are especially attracted to big green minivans.
  
• If all else fails, drag them to the country.
• Get one great dog for your kids to grow up with.
• Keep giving away the cats.
• Seventeen cats = millions of fleas. Better just move.
• If what you did to get in trouble makes mom laugh, she probably won't punish you.
  
• When you can't find your mom or that tub of ice cream, it's probably best to let her be lost for a while.
• If your eyes wonder for half a second in Wal-Mart, it will take you 2 hours to find your mom again.
  
• Lifelong friends are to be cherished... especially when they have really embarrassing stories to tell about you.
• You only need a minimal amount of toilet paper for your small butt.
• Swamp coolers ROCK.
• Behave in church. Mom can pinch with her toes.
  

To be continued......
***Notes from Mom***
Its so funny hearing my memories retold by you guys! (Wait until it happens to you.) By the way...2 different station wagons. I got Percy home in a Tracer 4 door hatchback, like a mini-mini station wagon. The big, ugly gray thing was a big, ugly gray thing, the difference is people thinking that we put a little pot-bellied pig in a big station wagon when actually I put a 150 lb hog in the back of an economy hatchback.

Gotta give credit where credit is due.

Harvard, Here We Come!!

I had to look y'all.
The 27 cents I mentioned before came from.... get ready.....
THE CHILD SUPPORT PEOPLE.
Oh, please!!!!
Did they REALLY think she was going to benefit from 27 CENTS?!!
Let's see, if I put that into the money market account (assuming I could find a bank that would let me open one with just 27 cents) it will earn 0.012 cents interest per month. That would be roughly 14 cents per year (not including compounding interest because I don't have that much time on my hands). Further, in ten years it will skyrocket to $1.44 and by the time she graduates, the account will be worth a whopping $1.68. Can I get a whoop whoop!!!!
Stupid people. I should complain, but man I don't want to lose that 27 cents!!!

P.S. Can you guess which book I borrowed from the library?

Rolling In Dough

I logged into our bank account tonight and I saw that we got a credit of $0.27 put into our account. Woooo. I don't think I'll even write that in the checkbook register, or even look to see where it came from.

On another note, I had a conference with Lily's teacher today. She's still smart, I'm still puzzled. She scored a 737 on the STAR literacy test (up from a 676 last year) and behaves herself most of the time. Well, at least she is good for her teacher.

Caleb and I are still potty training. Sometimes when he's doing his poop dance I catch him and sit him on the toilet, where he cries until I let him get off or he poops. Most of the time I try to start a conversation with him to get his mind off of pooping and hopefully relax him. So I asked him about the Nature Center that Mimi took the kids too not long ago:
"Hey Caleb! Did you go to the NATURE CENTER?"
"Yeah!"
"You did? What did you see?"
"I sawed animals on the wall, they were kind of dead, and I sawed birds, and turtles..."
"Did you see any lizards?"
"Yeah!"
"Did you hold it?"
"No, Sissy did. And the other turtles was sleeping and..... MOM!!"
"What?"
"We already talked about this!!"
"Well I want to hear about it again!"
"No. We already talked about this."
So I didn't get to hear about it again. Bummer.

Eeewww! I just realized that I forgot to put on deodorant this morning!!
This week was Aunt Flo's week. I usually go about four months of just a little here, a little there and then month five is catch up time. IN A MAJOR WAY. I cannot get enough space, quiet, pizza and water. My boobs hurt, my stomach hurts, I have gas and poop problems, and I'm bleeding too. I spent the last week sitting on the couch with my Domino's pizza, a gallon of water and a John Irving book. AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT?!! James has the BALLS to start kissing on me and stuff. Yeah right! What part of me growling "You no get 'um, go find kids, play all day" does he not get? The kids were even being good because they sensed all was not right in Uteropia.
I finally felt half way human on Sunday and we went bowling. James scored 157, Lily 84, Caleb 67, and me.... 52. Bowling is so not my sport.

I have gotten sick of being fat. I mean it this time y'all. I have actually done Pilates FOUR DAYS IN A ROW!! Next up, my Tae Bo. Yeah!! And I actually ate a carrot today! Woo hoo!!!