Hillary Swillary

I guess the best way to get back into the game is just duck your head and insult someone...so here goes. Is Hillary Clinton for real? Why is no one talking about the fact that her genius plan for the country includes aborting our babies so that Mom can get back to her high powered "try to be a man" job so that Hillary can in turn take the mother's income to pay for health care for those who are too lazy to feed their families fruits and vegetables? Am I just confused? How can we say that we're ready for a woman president when we don't even know what a woman is anymore. If we're so ready for a woman, then why can't Hillary run her campaign on things like care and compassion and strength and organization and the ability to listen and provide wisdom? I'll tell you why. We see those things as weaknesses not strengths. Maybe instead of trying to redefine what a woman is, we should start by accepting who God made us, proclaim those as strengths, and then build a campaign.

Wow! Time flies!

I can't believe it's been more than a month...My husband is launching a second career as a wedding photographer, and it's taking up most of our free time. The good news is that business is good...because he's new, he is giving FAT discounts to his couples and getting GREAT experience.

Raising a Boy with Breast (just one)

Just when everyone was feeling better...my son grew a breast!...A very painful one apparently. January...a broken leg...February...a breast...I can't wait until March! Tes-tos-ta-boy is 21 months. After an ultrasound at The Breast Center, the doctor(s) concluded that he had somehow injured himself (resulting in a hematoma) directly under his right nipple. Strange. Why does the wierd stuff happen to us? I told the doctor that I thought boys were supposed to be tough...he said tough was the problem. I've got to rewrite the budget.

Home again...Home again

Strep Throat...Fevers...Ear Infections...Flu...Dang those Grocery Cart Germs! Where have I been??? I've been picking regurgitated banana out of eyelashes!

Watch out for that...Corrrrrrrn!

I insist that our children sit down at the table three times a day for meals. It really works out well...most of the time. Last night over dinner, I could see Tes-tos-ta-boy's arm begin winding up. His eyes began to search for the perfect projectile...and just as I warned my husband...an ear of perfectly sweet, golden yellow corn flew with the force of a professional pitch across the table barely missing my husband's face! My husband had to excuse himself from the table because he couldn't catch his breath. Oh My Gosh! We laughed so hard. Yet another missed opportunity to discipline. (He really does have a good arm.)

Tes-tos-ta-boy

January...and I've already lost the Mother of the Year award. I lined up Tes-tos-ta-boy in front of three bigger kids and sent him down a big tube slide at the park. Somewhere in the dark spiraling dungeon of pain, his feet got twisted underneath him. One day and three doctors later, he has a very nice super-hero blue cast from his toes to his groin on his right leg. A spiral fracture. I guess little boys are fragile after all.

Baskets-R-Us

Hey Evander, I know thats you. Any idea where I can buy a basket big enough to hold a lawnmower, weedeater, and 2 three-story doll houses?

I'm so Ashamed.

My children were INDULGED at Christmas...well, "Christmases" to be exact. There are four sets of grandparents in our family. FOUR! (And my parents have been married 37 years!) It was so bad last year that my husband and I didn't buy our kids ANYTHING for Christmas this year! My house (and pantry) were already crawling with toys. Is there a cycle for toys that I don't know about? Is there a way to clean, organize, and store running water? My three year old asked me today why our Christmas tree was still up. After checking the calendar to make sure I hadn't missed Valentine's Day, I told her that Mommy can't play Chutes and Ladders and take down the tree at the same time. (She later took such a big bite of cheeseburger that she threw up.)
I really do love Christmas.

Turn Up the Heat

My husband and I discovered this secret on a cross-country trip when my daughter was just 5 weeks old. As new parents, we had no tricks, so after she had nursed and had a clean diaper, we had exhaused our parental dazzlings. By accident, we cranked up the heat in the car and WOOOSH! She was asleep within minutes! WoW! Heat. Who Knew? (Besides other, more experienced parents, of course)

Did anyone else see Priscilla Dunstan on Oprah? (I'm a little Oprah shy since I discoved that she believes "All Good Dogs Go to Heaven"...not really dogs, but you know what I mean...) Anyway. This Dunstan woman has done some really cool research on the different sounds that babies make and what they actually mean. I would encourage anyone to read more about it. She says that babies actually have a word for hungar...something like "nah". Apparently the sucking reflex creates this sound when a baby begins to get hungry enough to complain about it. It was very interesting.

Tes-tos-ta-boy strikes again!
He droped a two pound hand weight on his is foot. AHHHHH! Thats about how long he cried. Then I realized that the top of his ring toe (is there such a thing?) had just slid off the end of his foot...nail and all. Of course, then he began pulling at it...and I couldn't stop him. His interest in that dangling toe nail far outweighed his fear of pain. He'll outgrow that.

$600 Toy Kitchen?

Well, Christmas is off to a bang! My daughter has decided that the $5 kitchen that I bought for her at my neighbor's yard sale last year will no longer do. Instead, she found the VERY FANCY $600 Pottery Barn PINK kitchen! When I very gently tried to explain that it was out of our budget and frankly was more than my car note, she simply suggested that I sell our car so that she could have the kitchen! When I finally stopped laughing, I think she realized that I truely was not going to succum to her evil eyelashes...at which point she proclaimed, "Then I'll put it on my Santa list". oh boy.

Happy Thanksgiving To All, And To All A Good Night

It's so great to be home! Four Thanksgivings later, it's so good to be home! My brother used to say that holidays were a time for families to suffer together. Well, even at the age of seven, he was a very wise boy! I am so sick of Turkey I could gobble.

My question is this. What happened to monotony? What happened to tradition? Heck, what happened to my shoes?

My lovely, very innocent, niece got the holiday off to a bang by explaining to my 3-year-old that those turkeys thawing in the bathtub actually used to be ALIVE! Well, HOLD YOUR FORKS! I'm really surprised she didn't throw up. (She's thrown up for less). My son, on the other hand, seemed to be afraid that there wouldn't be enough to go around. He crammed enough turkey in his mouth to feed a family of four...take note...not once did he choke...or chew.

Thanksgiving II consisted of a house full of 1st cousins, 2nd cousins, step-cousins, half-cousins, aunts, uncles, my grandmother, and a few people that I would swear crashed our dinner. I was so ashamed at how long it had been since I'd been home, that I didn't dare question them.

Number III lasted 2 hours, and we ate Bar-B-Que. What a relief!

After a six-hour "joy ride", we finally made it to our final stop at which point Tes-tos-ta-boy revealed his new trick of nodding his head for "yes". (He is just a doll. Even if I do say so myself.) He nodded so hard that he lost his balance. Did I mention that the size of his head still makes him top-heavy?

I'm so glad to be home.

My heart is broken. I sat up to watch the news tonight, really just to check the weather, so I would know how to dress the kids for tomorrow. (Translation: which dirty clothes to pull out of the laundry room.) Instead, a different story got my attention, and I don't care about the weather anymore. It seems a 22 month-old baby was found dead in our area today. The news lady said that the cause of death was unknown, but that there were scars on the child's hands and feet as a result of his mother admitedly scalding him for "excessive" crying. Oh, I don't even know where to begin. My heart is just broken.

Tes-tos-ta-boy

I feel a long night coming on...My 18 month old son is on steroids for recurrent ear infections. Almost like clockwork, he goes to bed at 7:30 every night...except tonight. I would swear his strength, will, and charm have all skyrocketed in the last 12 hours. He is flashing a remarkably charming sly smile as he stands atop the dining table and squeals in pride. What should I do? I'm laughing so hard it's hard to move very quickly! This is so unlike him.

These amazon links are just killing me! The last time I looked there was a book entitled Myths of Motherhood. I haven't actually read the book, but who needs a book to tell them that motherhood is full of myths!? No one tells you the truth when it comes to parenting. No one tells you that at some point your children will decide that potty water is a condiment and that it takes kids an hour to get dressed and only 3 seconds to get undressed in the middle of the cereal isle.

Ah...Fresh air. We got away this weekend. Not far away, but far enough that only the dog-sitter knew where we were headed. Money's tight so we actually went into a nice restaurant and ordered one meal to split between the four of us (My husband was the only one who was embarrassed). Mostly we were just happy to be away and together. It also helped that we all had pop-tarts in our pricelined hotel before leaving for our special evening.
The most enlightening part for me, though, was realizing that stressful situations are where I like my kids the most. They trust me there. No one argues. No one asks "why". No one runs around crazy like a chicken with their head cut off. They just stand perfectly still at my side and hold my hand. They trust me. I am their comfort and security. Those moments are why I became a parent. So open wide the gates of stress! Bring on the crowded malls and noisey restaurants! Welcome the strang smelly men who insist on talking to small children. MY CHILDREN NEED ME!
WOW! How refreshing!
Then BAM!
My sweet sweet child actually sat on the potty, still wearing her underwear, and pee peed.
I love being needed.

Intro

I feel as if I'm introducing myself to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting...Hi, I'm 30 years old, married, the mother of two small children (3 & 1),and I think my children are trying to kill me by emotional suffocation.
I spent my day today moving our food out of our pantry. It doesn't matter to where. The point is why. Toys have taken over my house, not just in quantity, but in location. Every room has what might as well be land mines scattered throughout the carpet and rugs...Almost all of which make loud long-winded music when kicked at 3:00 a.m.
My solution of course is consolidation, and sadly, consolidating those toys is more critical to my existence than having a usable pantry.