Thanks For The Reminder

I've been so exhausted lately and having such a hard time accepting that my day to day life is really my day to day life.  Daughter has been pushing buttons and testing limits and driving me insane.  Son has been screaming randomly for long periods of time, I'm sure due to teething, and also not sleeping the greatest leaving me with little sleep and pushing me closer to that insanity ledge.  I've been on the verge of a complete breakdown dealing with every body else's individual issues and not having time to even think about my own.  No time to myself has left me with no soul recharging time.  I've been teetering on this fine line for a while now and never sure which way I need to lean to keep my balance.

Yesterday started out like too many days have lately.  Daughter was whining as soon as she woke up.  Son was screaming as soon as he woke up.  I was trying hard to figure out how to work the coffee maker as soon as I woke up.  The whining and screaming kept going and going and going until I was actually coming close to being able to tune it out.  You know how when you hear something constantly it just becomes background noise?  Yep!  Him had run the dishwasher the night before so I needed to unload it.  I needed to wash bottles for Son.  I needed to do a lot of laundry for the whole family.  I needed to fold the laundry I had washed the day before.  I had promised Daughter we could go on a walk.  And all I wanted was my bed!

I grudgingly headed to the kitchen to get started on all the things I needed to get done.  I set Son up in his exersaucer with a teething ring.  Daughter was happily playing in her playroom with a metal coffee can as a drum (did I mention my monstrous headache?).  I turned on the radio in the kitchen to a country station and started putting the dishes away and washing bottles.  Daughter came into the kitchen with a big metal bowl filled with all her bead necklaces.  She told me she was making me a cake.  Eyes half closed and shoulders sagging I muttered, "OK thanks honey..." and continued washing and putting away.  Son was behind me jumping in his exersaucer, squealing and giggling.  After a few more minutes of doing what needed to be done, I stopped and turned around.

In my kitchen was my beautiful and creative Daughter lovingly making me a pretend cake and my cute and fun Son chewing on a teething ring and jumping up and down in his exersaucer, squealing and giggling.  Right at that moment a song came on the radio...Phil Vassar's Just Another Day In Paradise.  If you haven't heard it, listen to it, great song.  It's all about how everything in the house is broken, you can't get a second to yourself, can't even have a date night, the kids climbing into bed after a bad dream and how he wouldn't trade it for anything.

I looked up at the sky and said, "Yep, you think you're funny don't ya?"  I looked back at my kids being cute as could be, looked back up at the sky with a smile and said, "Thanks for the reminder!"  I stopped doing what needed to be done and enjoyed the moment with my awesome children.

So, with Thanksgiving being tomorrow, I am thankful for my family (as I'm sure millions across America will be saying tomorrow).  What I'm really saying is I'm thankful for them even when they are pushing me over the crazy cliff and I feel like a coat that forces me to hug myself doesn't sound so bad.

I'm thankful that even though they're usually the ones to push me to the edge, they're usually the ones to pull me back too.

“While we try to teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life is all about.” 
— William Saroyan

Man Boobs And Sex Don't Mix

Him has tried repeatedly to get Son to fall asleep on his chest.  For whatever reason, Son is not a big fan of this.  Him has decided it is due to his lack of "pillows".

Before I relay this conversation you need to know that I have often told Him that he has to tell me if I get fat.  Fluffy is OK but I don't want to be 'lose a twinkie in my fat rolls' fat and have my husband tell me he still thinks I'm gorgeous.  I have also told Him that if I do ever get fat he better still love me to which he has always replies, "I'll still love you, I just won't grab your ass as often."

So now...conversation time!

Him is rocking Son and trying to get him to fall asleep as I am in the bathroom trying to get Daughter ready to leave the house.  Him says to Son, "I'm sorry I don't have nice pillows like your mama does but you're tired so just fall asleep." Loud whispering voice, "By the way...I think you're the only one that has a problem with me not having pillows."
I laugh and say, "I'm pretty sure if you did have pillows we wouldn't have to worry if Son liked pillows or not!"
Him, "I'm not saying like I'd be a woman...I'm saying man boobs."
Me, "Yeah, I know!  I wasn't thinking lesbianism stuff here babe, I was thinking if you had man boobs, Son would probably not exist."
Him's all defensive now! "OH SO WAIT A MINUTE!  I have to tell you if you get fat but I better still love you but if I get man boobs we're done?"
Me, "You tell me you wouldn't grab my ass as often, I'm sorry but I don't really want to play with boobs!  That's part of the reason we're together sweet stuff and I'm not with some chick...I like men."
Him, "I'd let you motorboat me!"
"OK and more of a reason you can't have man boobs!  I see it now, you'd wear V-necks just to show em off!" Hysterical laughter from me!
"I'm still back on the you wouldn't love me if I had man boobs..."
"I didn't say that.  I would still love you.  We just wouldn't be having sex therefore Son wouldn't exist and you wouldn't have to worry about whether or not he falls asleep against your chest.  We'd have a very loving, sexless relationship!  Instead of the soup nazi I'd be the sex nazi 'NO SEX FOR YOU!'"  Snorting laughter, (yes, I snort!) then I add, "Now all I can picture is the Will Ferrell scene at the end of Dodgeball with that Milkshake song!"
Him, "So, we'd have a loving yet sexless relationship, huh?"
I came out of the bathroom to look at Him as I said this with a huge mischievous grin, "Yeah, you're right...if we didn't have sex we'd be divorced!"  I duck back in the bathroom as Him smiles...

Now, I dare you to try this.  If you have a male significant other in your life that is rather fit, imagine him with man boobs singing the Milkshake song and making his man boobs dance about...now tell me you didn't snort your drink up into your nose!?!?  If you didn't...either you're not drinking or your imagination is not as fun as mine!  (If you have a female significant other you may imagine this scenario also but I highly doubt it turns out as funny...just sayin'!)

I Worry...

As a parent, I worry about my children.  I wonder what experiences my children will run into and whether or not they will be properly prepared.  Will I have been the mother that sheltered them too much and they are bewildered by real life or will they have been there, done that and be jaded way too early in life?  Will I have them prepared for the ugly things in the world or will they be completely taken by surprise by how mean this world can be?  Will they trust too much and be taken for fools repeatedly or believe the whole world is out to get them and hide themselves away in some cabin in the woods where they become off-the-grid hermits so as to never be hurt?  It's my guess that most parents worry about whether they are raising their children well or not and none of us will know until they are grown and it's really too late to go back and try again.  THAT'S SCARY!

This past summer Daughter walked away from my mom and me in a Kohl's department store.  I have never been so scared in my entire life.  We were close to one of the exits.  All I could think is she either walked right out the automatic doors and is wandering the parking lot by her little not-even-3-yet self or she's a beautiful little girl and there are some sick and wrong people in this world.  I was absolutely out of my mind, on the verge of tears but trying not to let fear win.  I NEEDED HER TO BE FOUND!  I was 7 months pregnant with Son and running about yelling her name, getting no response for about 2 minutes that felt like an hour.  Random people were asking me what Daughter looked like and where she was last.  I stopped and talked to an employee and she was asking about what Daughter was wearing and what she looked like.  We were in the middle of talking about locking down the store when I saw a flash of purple go streaking across an aisle...Daughter was wearing a purple sundress.  I left my cart with my mom's and my purses in it where it was cuz I would be OK with someone taking all my money and credit cards as long as I was the one walking out of the store with Daughter and took off sprinting.  Yep, SPRINTING at 7 months pregnant in a Kohl's department store wearing sandals.  As I rounded the corner, there was Daughter!  I grabbed her to me, melted to the floor, hugging her to the point she could barely breathe and started crying.  She started yelling, "Let me go!  Let me go!"  I did not!  She was not even slightly scared...she was having fun!  I can plainly state right now that if I hadn't been so deathly scared I would have beat Daughter's butt red in the middle of that store!  She got a little fear when she realized I was crying and asked, "What's wrong Mama?  Why are you crying?" 10 times over before I got the lump out of my throat enough to tell her I thought I had lost her forever.

After this heart attack inducing experience, Daughter and I had a long talk about "bad people".  I told her how there are bad people in this world and how they hurt little kids for fun.  I told her how one of these bad people could have taken her away and she would have NEVER seen her daddy or me again.  She kept asking why and I could only say because not everyone in this world is nice.  I told her some people can seem nice and then they would grab her and she'd be gone.  I told her that if someone ever grabbed her I wanted her kicking, scratching, biting and hitting with all her strength and screaming, "THIS IS NOT MY MOMMY!  HELP!" at the top of her lungs!  Recently Grandmama was joking with her and said she was going to steal Daughter away from me and Daughter said, "No you won't cuz I will bite, scratch and kick you and yell, 'HELP! THIS IS NOT MY MOMMY!'"  It was one of those 'WHOA!  She was actually listening' moments.  Now, that was with Grandmama and hopefully she won't alert the authorities if Grandmama grabs her in a store but hey, I'd be happier with that than if she didn't and something bad really happened.  Explaining away the fact that the lady was her Grandmama would be better than her happily walking out of a store with the 'nice' guy that offered her a puppy that she needed to come to his windowless van to get.  I worried that I went too far in my explanation and yet I needed her to understand.  This was the first of what I hope are many open and honest conversations with Daughter.

I know I can't keep my kids in a bubble, letting nothing ever happen to them but what about a netting bubble of sorts where most bad things stay away but enough small hurts make it past so they have just enough fear?  Not so everything is scary but so they know if you don't know how to swim don't jump in the water without a lifejacket kind of fear.  There are strangers that can become friends and there are strangers that talk to you about being mass murders that haven't acted on their rage yet in the grocery store that should be avoided at all costs kind of fear.  (Wanna hear that story now don't you?  I might need to make a separate page of "Adventures in Grocery Shopping" cuz apparently a lot of fun things happen when I'm getting groceries.  Ever had a security guard called for you and about you all in one shopping trip?  I HAVE!)

J, from my "Sanity Squad", recently had her son call her for a ride home after having too much to drink at a party. I was not only proud of her son for being smart enough to do that (I did tell her that I wouldn't be so proud if it had been her 4 year old son) but I am also hopeful that I will have that good of a relationship with my children that they know they could and should call me in any situation.

I want my kids to ask me about drinking and drugs and sex.  Yep, I really do!  I want to be that mom who is totally open with my children, that mom whose kids ask all the awkward questions, that mom who is cool enough to explain all the experiences I have had without judging my kids as to why they're asking.  I want to be the mom who is cool enough but is not their friend.  I don't want to go drinking with my kids but I want them to know that if they are out drinking and all their friends are too drunk to drive, even if it's 3am, they can call me and I'll drag my tired and half asleep butt out of bed, drive to wherever they are and thank them for being smart enough to call right after explaining how they should have had a DD.

I fully expect my children to be hurt by this world, it's part of growing up unfortunately but I truly and fully hope that when they are hurt they come to me for hugs and advice, stand themselves back up and go on living with just a little more knowledge.  I want my children to be protected so badly as a mother and I'm scared to death about what this world will throw at them.  I guess I have to sit back and hope that I can protect them a little and teach them a lot so they know they can always come to mom but they have the resources to make the right decision themselves.

It's scary being a parent!  It shouldn't be scary to be a kid.

Bursting Daughter's Balloon

Son is teething so my normally sweet, go-with-the-flow baby boy is ticked at the world.  He isn't sleeping very well which doesn't help and eating is apparently hurting him so food is being turned down until he's so starving he screams like banshee and even then he just takes down what little bit makes his stomach stop trying to swallow itself.  This combo leads to grumpy Son.

I'm not sure what Daughter has going on but I think it's a little cabin feverish.  Yucky cloudy skies, cool temperatures and Daughter thinking that she has to be barefoot to be outside have not lent themselves to the idea of ruckus outdoor fun.  Also, she's in that 'I can do everything myself even though I can't really quite do everything myself' phase so I hear her doing something and then all of a sudden whiny high-pitched frustrated screaming to which I ask "Do you need help?" and get the loving reply, "NO! I don't need you!"  In other words, grumpy Daughter.

And then there's me.  Son's waking up at least twice a night and not going straight back to sleep so 4 to 5 hours of sleep in two naps per night is what I've been averaging.  Daughter's crazy whining about every little thing from not wanting to have breakfast to not wanting to go to bed and the entire day between means I'm having to argue my entire day away.  Daughter has started taking showers with me so I don't even get those 5 minutes of throwing hot water at myself to myself anymore and HOT water is out of the question with her in there with me.  I've been having 'monster beating a bass drum' headaches starting around noon about every other day lately.  And I seem to be suffering from a slight cabin fever of my own.  Add that all up and grumpy Mama.

Yesterday was a day of yelling, not listening, thinking food was not needed as well as sleep and a total 'I can do whatever I want' attitude...on everyone's part...I include myself in that statement.  Add in Him who was far to chipper and far to removed from the anarchical-ness of our day and the following meltdown was inevitable!

So last night Daughter was refusing to eat her dinner of exactly what she asked for and instead kept walking away from the table to play with a pink balloon.  Son was screaming tired and wanted to be cuddled but since I was spending all my time picking Daughter up to slap her back into the chair he wasn't being cuddled and was very verbal about his dismay.  Him was on the computer trying to figure out how to download a video I had asked him to and was somewhat oblivious to how close the black scary clouds were.  Daughter's balloon chasing antics finally led to her not paying attention to where she was going while not listening to me asking her repeatedly to sit down and eat.  She bashed into the table leg, spilled her full glass of milk all over the table, chair and floor and knocked her entire meal off the table to the floor braking the plate.  Zippy, our dog, quickly came to clean up the mess.  I had to shoo him away so he didn't cut his tongue wide open on the jagged shards of plate. (Storm clouds are straight overhead now.)  I grabbed the balloon and told Daughter, "You can have your balloon back when you finish your food!"  She threw herself on the floor and started screaming, "I guess I never get to play with my balloon again!"  Son was in the background trying to win the screaming contest.  Zippy is whining at me wondering why he didn't get the floor food.  (And bring on the thunder, lightning, and possibly a tornado in there somewhere.)  I took said balloon, stretched the latex where said balloon was knotted and bit it!  I let all the air out of said balloon, threw said balloon on the floor at Daughter's feet and screamed, "There! You have your freakin' balloon back! HAPPY?"   I stormed out to the garage and just sat there for about five minutes of deep breathing.  Not something for the highlight reel of "Good Mothering Moments" but...it FELT good!  STUPID BALLOON!  I SHOWED YOU!  Shortly there after both kids went to bed and even though it was dark outside my sunshine came back in the form of a nice cold beer!  CHEERS!

She is right...ish...

Him came home from the grocery store Friday with a new movie for Daughter.  It was "The Toy That Saved Christmas" Veggie Tales Movie.  Veggie Tales is a tradition now at our house since when Daughter was very young. Him gave her his copy of "Silly Songs" long ago.  It was on VHS cuz he had it since before DVD's were the only thing available.  Daughter watched it so much the tape literally broke.

Now she has several Veggie Tales movies on DVD and it's one of those things that I don't mind watching with her. They are humorous and they teach some good lessons.  In "The Toy That Saved Christmas" the lesson is that Christmas is about GIVING not whining about all the gifts you want to RECEIVE on Christmas morning.

Saturday night Grandma came over for dinner and brought with her an American Girl Doll catalog.  (Don't worry...I didn't just jump ship on the Veggie Tales idea...they come together later...no senile break yet!)  Grandma has given a couple of these catalogs to Daughter and she knows exactly which one she wants and exactly ALL the accessories she needs.  There's even one with blonde hair and brown eyes just like Daughter, which is not a normal doll combo let me tell ya!

Conversation Sunday morning:
"Daddy this is the dolly I really want!"
"Oh really?"
"Yeah I think I'll tell Santa that's what I want for Christmas!"
"Do you remember what the Veggie Tales said about Christmas?"
Blank look from Daughter...
"Remember they said that Christmas is about giving not about whining about all the things you want..."
Thoughtful look from Daughter...
"Yeah so maybe Santa will GIVE me that dolly!"

So yes, Christmas is about giving...what are YOU giving ME?

Listless Wonderings

Daughter and Son technically have three sets of Grandparents.  They have my mom, my father and stepmom and Him's mom and dad.

With Christmas coming around the corner my stepmom called and asked about what Daughter and Son would like for Christmas.  She's that lady that shops early and doesn't do the last minute mad dash to the store and wind up with something no kid wants.  I told her I would have Daughter come up with a wish list.

Now we have this long list of things Daughter named off as things she "NEEEEEEEDS".  First, my editing came in and I took out all toys that make annoying noises that become the soundtrack for wherever my child is in our house until ultimately some wonderful little elf invades our home and steals batteries out of toys in the middle of the night.  I may have left the door open for the elf or lured the elf in or actually been the elf but we're not telling that to Daughter!  Then, editing to eliminate all toys that take up 20 square feet of floor space that we don't have to give to ONE toy.

Then comes the thought process of whether or not I can send this to ALL the grandparents?  Would they take offense?  Do they think they already have the "perfect" gift idea?  Is their "perfect" gift idea one of the dreaded toys I already eliminated from the list?  Can I tell them what NOT to buy?

Then I started thinking that maybe I could make a guideline list like if you get a toy that makes noise please get one that has volume control...if you get a huge toy please make sure it is something that can be outside or easily taken down and put up on a whim.  Maybe I should just tell them all that books are good, especially since Daughter LOVES reading and not going to the library is punishment to her.  Maybe I could ask for gift cards but kids aren't really thrilled by gift cards at Christmas.  How about clothes?  I've never seen a child absolutely light up at getting clothes for Christmas especially not from their Grandparents that normally spoil them.  

I know we all want our children to be happy but should it really cost us parents our sanity?

My sister gets to be the one that can give Daughter and Son all the most annoying toys she wants to cuz I was THAT Aunt.  I found the toy that made the most annoying noises at the loudest volume known to man and that was what I bought for my nephews for any and all gift giving time until they got old enough that all they wanted was money...then I had kids and well, you know what they say about payback.  Other than her though I wish people would think before they bought kids toys.  Think about how annoying it would become if you heard this toy all day every day until you took the batteries out just to keep you from throwing it against the wall, ripping the stuffing out with a knife and running over it with your vehicle just to make the bad noises stop!  Think about how much you would like it if this thing sat in the middle of your house for you to try to dodge 20 times every day before you accidentally stub your toe into it falling face first into your coffee table and yelling words you try so hard to never say in front of your children at the top of your lungs!  Those are the toys all parents wish their children never got and it seems to be loving caring and well meaning family members that give these toys every time.

Maybe the guideline should be if you can live with my child bringing this toy every time they visit with an endless supply of batteries then you can gift it cuz there's a possibility that if you give it, it may end up "accidentally" being left at your house and every time we come over I'll replace the batteries and (cough, cough) forget it again.  Every time a child visits you will remember the new toy gift giving rules!  BAHAHAHA!

Purple Glasses

I do not claim to be a political person because...I'm not.  I voted, yes, because it is a right that I have been given by this wonderful country.  I thank God for the men and women throughout the history of this country that have fought to give me this right.  Yet, if you voted differently than I did, I will not hold that against you.  If we were friends before your ballot was counted, we're friends now.  All of this being said, I'm so disappointed in the nation as a whole.

I have found the bashing and name calling and complaining and threats all over social media to be plain disgusting.  I remember the title "President" used to come with a lot of respect no matter what.  I think there will never be anything good to come of a nation that is so divided and it didn't matter who won, there would be bashers and name calling and complaining and threats if the vote had gone the other way.  I recently read a blog post about a purple nation.  Get it?  Red and blue, democrats and republicans come together...come on people grade school stuff...blue and red make?  PURPLE!  As long as people can't get over which side of some imaginary line they stand on, our nation will have issues.

Now dredging through all the political blah on my newsfeed on Facebook was just another day of ignoring a lot of people's rants that I've been doing for far too many months but a few that happened to catch my eye yesterday actually upset me.  I'm not often upset by people's beliefs because well, I believe everyone has the right to their own beliefs...another thing that makes this country great. However, several attacked the "people sitting on their butts collecting handouts".

Now to a certain extent I agree.  I knew women that were collecting unemployment, child support, WIC, any and every assistance the government gives and they worked at the bar for their fun money.  These women had EVERYTHING paid for so the money they made working went to their shopping sprees.  Those women piss me off because they are abusing a system that was put into place to help people that really are in need.  I have no issues however with helping people that are actually in need and have tried everything before turning to the government for help.

My sister happens to be disabled, diagnosed with Fibromyalgia and some other things that go hand in hand with that diagnosis.  At the time she was diagnosed people were on the fence as to whether or not this was a real disease and I even know some people still question whether or not it is.  Here's what I can tell you...my sister used to be a mile-a-minute, 24/7 whirlwind of energy beyond any person I ever knew.  She was working full-time, raising two kids and was in school taking 18 credits, getting straight A's.  Out of no where she didn't have the energy, she was hurting all over, she had days where her body hurt so much that clothes weren't an option.  Clothes literally felt like they were ripping her skin off.

Even after being diagnosed, she fought.  She didn't want to be labeled disabled.  She tried to continue life as normal, tried to muster the energy to do as she had always done.  She pushed herself so hard to be the person she has always been that she actually got worse and put herself into a position where she had no options.  She is now a stay-at-home mom labeled as disabled and still has days where she fights just to get out of bed...not because she's lazy, not because she doesn't want to work, not because she gave up...because she hurts that badly all the time that a good day for her, a day where she can get out of bed, is like a day you would call in sick to work and stay in bed all day whining.  Damn right, she's disabled...and she hates it.

When those out there that wish we could get rid of all the "handouts" speak...I think of my sister and a few friends I have that aren't abusing the system...people that wish like hell they could go to work every morning.  I wish there were more honest people and fewer people that abuse what was put into place to help those that actually need it.

I also think, man, I hope for all of you that want government assistance to be done away with that you never fall upon hard times or get diagnosed with a truly debilitating disease and have to rely on the system that you want torn down.  I was taught the rule of "be careful what you wish for cuz you just might get it."  If this nation stops helping those in need, I have a funny feeling you would all be bitching about that too.  For those of you working your happy job...are you thankful for that college loan our terrible government gave you?  For those of you that are retired...do you cash your social security check?  For those that were laid off...did you file for unemployment?  For all the rest...do you know for a fact nothing bad will ever happen to you where you may need a little helping hand?

I don't think any change in government will ever rid the world of deceitful, dishonest people.  Creating a government that refuses to help those in need and leaves these people to suffer is not the answer either.  I don't claim to have the answer but I do know those programs were put in place for those who truly are in need and it's just too bad that there are people out there that would cheat the system or look for some loophole.  I also think that some people really wish they could work for a living and be those "productive members of society" but their options were taken away.

I guess to sum it all up, red or blue, democrat or republican, people are people and they will disappoint us almost every day.  Stop looking at the bad people in the world, celebrate the good.  Look at the world through purple glasses!

Also, Daughter is in the next room watching Disney's Robin Hood...he robbed from the rich to give to the poor and I don't know many people that call Robin Hood a socialist.  Two cents!

Throwing Firemen

I've been trying to teach Daughter to stand up for herself.  I've been telling her that she doesn't have to let people be mean to her.  She has a history of allowing other kids to be mean; biting, kicking, pushing her, and she keeps on playing with them like nothing happened.  This has been her attitude since she started playing with other kids.

I kind of felt bad but at the same time did a little happy dance on the inside the first time she stood up for herself.  We were at a mommy group and Daughter was playing on one of those scoot along toys and a boy came up grabbed the handles, dumped Daughter to the ground and started riding off on it.  Daughter sat on the ground with a pouty lip for a moment then got up, walked over to the boy on the scoot toy, looked at me over her shoulder, hauled off and pushed the boy right off the side, jumped back on and rode away with a smile on her face.  Outside I went over to her and told her that neither one of them could play with the toy now if they couldn't be nice to each other but inside...I WAS PROUD!  She finally didn't just get a confused look and go off to find a new toy!

Now I guess I wasn't really proud...that may be the wrong term but I was happy that she wasn't just sitting there and taking the other kid pushing her around.  I started trying to explain that pushing, hitting, kicking, throwing things were not acceptable ways of standing up for herself.  I told her that from then on she needed to stand up for herself with words.  I said, "Just say, 'you're being mean and if you can't be nice I don't want to play with you,' and walk away."  Now, that is so one of those 'do as I say not as I do' moments cuz I probably would've pushed the kid off the scoot toy too but I'm supposed to be teaching her to behave better than me!

More recently there was a incident with another girl biting Daughter.  Daughter screamed and looked for me to do something about it but I can't reprimand the other lady's kid so I told Daughter to do the whole you're mean walk away thing.  She didn't listen.  In fact, she went right back to playing with the little girl as if nothing happened.  I was upset cuz I saw this as a total backslide.

This past friday though Daughter apparently decided she was done playing the doormat.  She was playing with a couple of other kids when the little boy apparently kicked her.  Daughter screamed an Amazon war cry and hauled off and throw a hard plastic fireman toy right at the boy.  After this she says, "Stop being mean or I'm done playing!"  I'm sorry but yep, now I was proud and I might have had to hide a giggle or two!

Proud Mother of Three Little Angels

That's right... proud mother of THREE.  You've been introduced to Daughter and Son but you are going to be introduced to MJ now.

Before you read this you need to know that this is either very brave of me or very stupid of me.  I'm putting the worst day of my life out there for everyone to see.  Judge me if you need to but I feel compelled to tell my story to maybe help others out there that need to know they're far from alone.

My due date was July 6 of 2011.  MJ was born February 19 of 2011.  I was only 5 months along.  On Valentine's Day, happy day of love, I went in for a routine ultrasound expecting to walk out with pictures that I could show everybody of the healthy baby in my belly.  I was joking with Him that I was going to find out the sex and not tell Him cuz he couldn't come with me to the ultrasound.  I had Daughter with me so she could see "her" baby and feel a bond to her little brother or sister that was growing in my belly.  Instead, I found out that day that the baby I was carrying had a heart that was too big.  After five days of knowing that my baby was probably not going to make it, I held MJ in my arms and cried my eyes out to a point that I couldn't see through my tears.

I was 5 months along when I lost my MJ so everybody knew I was pregnant. I couldn't hide the fact that I no longer had a pregnant belly or fool people into the idea that I already had my baby.  I was forced to face the fact that I was no longer pregnant every time I saw someone who knew me.  I was forced to see my non-fat belly every time I looked down.  I was asked at the grocery store, at restaurants, at random places everywhere, "Oh, did you already have the baby?", "Where's the newest family member?", "I thought you were pregnant?"  Yep, everyday in so many ways it bashed me in the face that I gave birth to a beautiful baby that I didn't get to bring home.  Walking out of the hospital after giving birth without a baby in my arms and knowing that all the dreams I had for that child were now just....gone...that's the loneliest I've ever felt!

I tried to deny it but I was slapped in the face with it anytime I did anything outside my house.  I tried to hide myself away but my mom, my husband, my friends wouldn't let me.  I cried so constantly that my eyes being red and my face being puffy became normal.  I tried so hard to pretend that this just had NEVER happened.

We decided to have MJ cremated and I remember going to pick up the ashes and sitting in the parking lot at the funeral home crying in my truck.  I found it so hard to even open the door.  It wasn't a sunny day but I wouldn't take my sunglasses off...even inside...and I hate those people that wear sunglasses inside!  I'll never forget them handing me this tiny box and thinking, "that's it...this is all I have for a lifetime of dreams and wishes I had?"

I had crazy thoughts.  Thoughts the normal me would never think.  I remember one day my mom brought me and Daughter out to lunch just to make me get out of the house.  It was February and winter was so on.  Looking out the window that we were seated by, there was a pier out into a very large lake.  There was ice over the pier and the wind was churning up big waves.  I remember thinking, "If I walk out on that pier, I would probably slip on the ice and plunge into the water.  Those waves are so big it'd be hard to swim back to the pier and it's so cold maybe I'd freeze to death before I could even drowned."  Yeah...that's not normal.

We held a memorial because it wasn't just my immediate family that lost MJ.  Grandparents lost their grandchild.  Aunts and uncles lost their niece or nephew.  Nieces and nephews lost their cousin.  I went shopping for food for for the memorial with my sister and had my first public meltdown.  I was grabbing food and pretty much throwing it into the cart and getting pretty pissed cuz I had to consider what everybody else expected.  I was pissed that at this time in my life I had to think about what other people wanted.  No, no please...how can I ease YOUR pain at the loss of MY baby!?!?  I was bitching to my sister about how I had to get goat cheese and special bread for my mom and how Him's family expected dinner more than snacks and what would a memorial be without a cake?  Seriously, do you people think this is a fucking party!?!?  After throwing everything everybody else wanted into the cart, I went to the checkout lane.  The cashier asked, "How are you doing?"  HA HA HA MELTDOWN!  "Just fucking great!  It's a spect-frickin-tacular day!...I'm sorry...it's been a long day and I could really use a nap...in a padded room."  The cashier may never know how perfect she was for me that day when she answered, "I could find some nice young men in clean white jackets that would love to talk to you..."  I laughed so hard and I needed that more than I even knew.

I remember as people started showing up for the memorial, I walked outside and found a place to hide.  I heard people calling for me, looking for me but I didn't respond.  I crouched to the ground and cried.  I was still hiding inside myself and trying to pretend it didn't happen and this damn memorial was making it so painfully obvious that I really had to face it!  My sister-in-law came out, walked right over to me like she knew all along where I was, lit up a cigarette and said, "So...this really sucks..."  I laughed.  She just stood there for quite a while just smoking her cigarette and being there.  She turned to me as she put her cigarette out and said, "Everybody is inside whenever you feel up to coming in."  She may never know what that meant to me.  I told her thank you but I don't think those words carried enough weight to make her realize how great it was that she was just there.  She didn't try to cheer me up, she didn't push me to talk about it, she didn't tell me I had to accept it, she didn't offer up one of the cliches people use when they don't know what to say.  She was just there.  Sometimes, that's exactly what a person needs.

People say such stupid things to a grieving person.  This too shall pass...really? I didn't know it was a kidney stone!  They're in a better place now...the best place for my baby is in my arms so piss off!  Don't let this happen again, I don't know if we can take it...oh but it's been such a party for me! COMPLETE WITH CAKE!  Isn't it better that it happened now rather than after you knew them?  Don't tell me I didn't know MJ!  I felt MJ kick me.  I had heard MJ's heartbeat.  I had pictures of MJ.  MJ wanted Burger King for every meal.  MJ didn't like it when I ate first thing in the morning.  Don't know if you know this but as soon as a woman knows she's pregnant there's a bond with that baby and the dreams and thoughts about the future start the moment she sees those two pink lines.

I will never understand why a mother that loses her five year old child can grieve and talk about the child she lost yet a woman has a miscarriage and she feels too ashamed to talk about it as if she caused it or something.  An abortion is such a terrible thing cuz you're killing a baby but a woman has a miscarriage and she just lost a pregnancy not a baby.  For some reason unknown to me it's more OK to grieve in public because your dog died then because you lost your unborn baby.  You probably know a great deal of women that have gone through losing their baby and you don't even know it cuz those women were too ashamed to talk openly.

Once I started opening up and talking about losing MJ, I found out how not alone I was.  I found out my grandmother, my mom, my mother-in-law, my cousin, a high percentage of my friends, a whole ton of people I knew had miscarriages and they had just never talked about it with me.  I was unwillingly welcomed into a secret underground sisterhood that included so many women!

One of those women gave me the best advice I got throughout my grieving.  She told me, "You know how everybody keeps telling you you need to go through the grieving process and sooner or later you'll accept it?  I always thought that was the dumbest thing cuz I thought acceptance meant being OK with what happened and I was never going to be OK with what happened.  I figured out 'acceptance' was actually the point you reach where you realize you can't change it, this is now a part of you like it or not and nothing you do will ever make it go away...not even pretending it didn't happen."

I waited a while before trying to get pregnant again and I remember all the way through my pregnancy with Son I was so scared that in an instant it would all be ripped away again.  I had a long and trying pregnancy with Son too.  I had terrible morning sickness at the beginning to the point I was dehydrated and had to be hospitalized.  I almost had a heart attack at 5 months along, was hospitalized and put on heart meds.  At 34 weeks along I went into premature labor and ended up on bed rest.  Every time something happened I would think, "This is it, this is where the bottom falls out."  I even had a hard time getting excited about the idea of taking a baby home at the end of it all cuz well, that isn't how the last one ended.  I was scared.

Still I can't think about MJ without tears in my eyes.  Even as I write this I've stopped several times cuz I needed to walk away.  Even with Son being born perfectly healthy, I still grieve the loss of my MJ.  I have come to the point of accepting that I didn't get to bring MJ home as a part of my life, I stopped hiding, started owning it as a chapter in my autobiography but that doesn't mean it no longer hurts.  Whenever I think of MJ a sad smile crosses my face because I know for all the pain I have felt at losing MJ, I take comfort in knowing all MJ ever felt was love.

Another amazing woman said to me shortly after Son was born, "Now you're the proud mama of three...you just don't get to hold one of them right yet."

Little People In Dark Hallways Scare Me!

Lately Daughter has felt that her bedtime is too earlier...apparently.  We do the bedtime ritual of potty, brush teeth,  three stories, potty again, hugs and kisses, prayers, lay down, lights out.  It's been that way since she was about six months old and it's been good...until recently.

She would sit in her room, in the dark, playing, singing and then it would turn to yelling that she needed to pee again or she needed water or she wanted to say she loved us one more time.  Basically anything that stalled bedtime.  Bedtime stayed around 8:30pm but sleep time stretched to about midnight.

About a week ago we went through the whole ritual and I came downstairs prepared for the stalling to begin and I heard...nothing!  I was cautious about celebrating cuz we all know what happens when you celebrate too early.  About an hour later though with no sound coming over the monitor...I started celebrating!  YAY!  That phase had ended!  I went and took a very relaxing bath with tension releasing bubbles.  I had a glass of wine on the edge of the tub that became empty too quickly.  I even got to shave my legs without a toddler asking twenty questions about why I would do that.  Now, relaxed and sleepy, I brushed my teeth and set off up the stairs for my fabulously comfortable bed...BEFORE MIDNIGHT!

I commonly go up the stairs without turning on the light especially if Daughter is asleep because I don't want the light drifting into her bedroom giving her reason to start playing twenty questions in an attempt to stay awake.  I reach the top of the stairs and out of nowhere a little person attaches their arms around my thighs.  In a sleepy relaxed state this scares the absolute shit out of me and I automatically try to back away...screaming!  I grab the door frame at the top of the stairs barely saving myself and the little person from falling head over heels down the stairs.  My foggy brain is trying to figure out what horrible thing I did to the little person community to the point that they would send a stealthy little person ninja to my house to shove me backwards down the stairs, breaking my neck and making the whole thing look like a terrible accident.  No police officer would believe that a little person ninja did it!  Through my terrified scream I hear the little person screaming and it finally hits that I recognize that scream.  I struggle down the hallway with the little person still attached to my thighs to the light switch and sure enough it's Daughter hugging tightly to me.  You know how when adrenaline drains from your body when you think you're in danger and realize you're not so your screams are replaced with hysterical laughter?  Yeah, that happened.  Daughter's scream became laughter quickly too.

"Honey, what are you doing sitting in the dark in the hallway?"

"I got bored sitting in my room in the dark..."

"We put you to sleep two hours ago!  Have you been out here that whole time?"

"No, I sat in bed for a while but then I got bored and came out here."

"You never said anything?  I never heard you over the monitor...do you need something?"

"I didn't say anything cuz you and daddy told me to be quiet so I sneaked out of bed and sat here waiting for you or daddy to come up.  I didn't want to scream cuz that's not quiet."  Good reasoning?!?!

"Honey, we put you to bed and said be quiet meaning GO TO SLEEP!"

"Oh...well that's not what you said."  Again, good reasoning!?!?

"OK...well I'm going to sleep now and I would really appreciate it if you crawled into your bed quietly and went to sleep."

"OK mama."

I went and tucked her in, gave her another hug and kiss, continued on to my room and fell asleep dreaming of little people trying to kill me.

That was about a week ago...totally related, Daughter has given up naps so bedtime really does mean sleep time again.  There have been no little person attempts on my life since then.

Drunk vs. Toddler

I never knew my job as a bartender was preparing me for motherhood...until Daughter reached toddlerhood.

There are far too many similarities between a drunk adult and a toddler!

1. They both speak unintelligible gibberish and expect you to understand it.  There are made up words in drunk language and in toddler language and if you ask either what they're trying to say, they get mad at you that you even asked! Cuz obviously, "mumble jumble ali baba" meant I need another drink, to toddler and drunk person!
2. They're both incredibly well versed in tantrum throwing.  Tell a toddler they can't have something they want and step back.  Tell a drunk person they're cut off...ditto!  I have actually told a cut off customer or two that they were "throwing a tantrum a two year old would be proud of!"
3. They both can give you 101 reasons that you should give them what they want.  And when they give you these reasons, they are very sure that they are very convincing reasons even though 100 of them are said in the made up language.
4. After the convincing reasons are not convincing enough, then come the threats.  The threats themselves are differing, drunk person threatens to never come there again and toddler threatens to scream and wake up her brother but threats nonetheless.  Stomping and yelling go hand in hand at this point too.
5. Sometimes the only response that can work with either is, "Because I said so!"  Whether the question is, "Why can't I have another drink?" or "Why can't I eat candy for lunch?"  
6. The reasoning of "Because I said so!" is usually again met with the tantrum throwing, stomping and threatening but this is usually the point that the bartender/parent has stopped paying any bit of attention to the drunk person/toddler.
7. Putting on a smiling face and speaking in a calm voice in the face of the tantrum thrower is usually met by anger from either too because they were looking for you to respond with yelling of your own and worry over the threat.
8. When you tell drunk person/toddler that it's time to go, the behavior is the same too.  The tantrum throwing, yelling, and threatening continue usually followed by forceful removal.
9. And the best thing you can do for either sometimes is find them a safe, warm place to pass out and hope they wake up in a better mood!   
10. It's usually this point where the bartender/parent goes and has a drink for themselves!

I guess I should go and thank all the people I cut off over the years for teaching me how to be a parent but that probably won't happen...

How Important Was It?

I assume you've all seen the "It Can Wait" campaign commercials about not texting while driving.  Well, I almost became a part of a commercial yesterday.

I know I can't even talk and walk at the same time without finding myself tripping over a small crack in the sidewalk, ending up face planting on cement and breaking my phone (It's actually happened!) so I don't even attempt to TALK on the phone in my truck.  I know a lot of people talk on the phone in cars every day and even though I don't think that's all that safe, that doesn't require them looking away from the road to read and type while still trying to navigate through 75 mph traffic.

SO, to the mother in the white Audi...REALLY?

I was driving home from my mom's house yesterday when a white Audi next to me swerved into my lane.  I hit my brakes to avoid hitting her.  The woman driving was holding her phone in her right hand, texting.  She looked over at me as she overcorrected, went over the rumble strips and raised her hand with her phone in it as an apology.  At this point I see the two carseats in her backseat with the two smiling faces of young children.

Instead of hanging up her phone when she almost ran another vehicle off the road, she just switched lanes in front of me and slowed down to five mph BELOW the speed limit...as if slowing down will make it all better, as if when you run someone off the road at a slower speed maybe you won't kill someone just severely injure them?  AH YES...that's better...now I get it!

Since I was pinned behind her now, I watched as she hit the rumble strips on this side, overcorrected and almost hit the little Accord that was now next to her as they laid on their horn.  STILL, she didn't put her phone down.  SERIOUSLY?  Two near accidents and you still think your text is important?

Now if you want to text and drive out on some rural road when nobody else is around and the only things you could possibly hurt are wood fences, some trees and YOURSELF, have at it.  When you're on a major highway through a largish city with two children in carseats in your backseat and the black truck you almost ran off the highway is carrying a three year old, a three month old and a mother that's currently giving you a death glare...put your damn phone DOWN!

Whoever you were talking to about whatever you were talking about better have been REALLY damn important for all the lives you put at risk!

I could even understand that you don't know me and therefore don't care about my life or my children that you put at risk but next time you need to decide whether or not to answer that text, please do me a favor and glance in your rearview mirror.  Those two children riding in carseats in your back seat, putting all their trust in you getting them wherever you're going safely?  They're only safe right now because the drivers around you were paying attention.  Maybe next time you can't look up from your text you'll be next to someone else that's also texting!  Don't let your TEXT be more important than your KIDS!

Giving is Great But That's MINE!

Him and I have done our best to raise Daughter with compassion for those less fortunate and a sense of charity and we've done pretty well as far as we can see.

Last winter every time we passed a guy in front of a store ringing a bell with a red bucket, Daughter would turn to me and hold out her hand.  She would gleefully drop the money into the bucket and smile.  I would beam with pride that my daughter took such pleasure in helping others.  I'm sure when the buckets come back out this winter Daughter will remember in an instant and wait, hand out, for the money to drop in.

Right before Son was born we had decided we needed to get rid of some things including some of Daughter's toys and we needed to get the baby toys back out for Son.  Daughter happily went through her things deciding which to hand down to her brother and which to give to "the other kids that don't have this stuff".  She would've given her whole playroom away if I hadn't reminded her that we weren't running out tomorrow to buy her more toys.

Yesterday a couple of guys from a local church came around to collect canned goods for the local food pantry.  Daughter followed me into the kitchen and wanted to bring the food out to the waiting guys.  She could only carry one can at a time but after Him explained to the guys about how we're trying to teach our daughter about giving, they waited very patiently as she brought them several cans one by one.  She turned to me when we had said goodbye and asked why we didn't give more.  I told her that we do need to keep some food for us to eat with a smile on my face.

Later at night we were sitting in the living room and Daughter turns to me and says, "We didn't give them any of my spaghetti-o's!"

"I know honey. I didn't think you would want to give them those.  We gave them some veggies, fruit cocktails and lots of soup though."

"But we didn't give them any spaghetti-o's?"

"No honey..." I say with a questioning look on my face.  I was wondering if she wanted me to chase these guys down to give them some spaghetti-o's just to make her happy.

Then Daughter looks over at the TV and says, "Good cuz those are mine."

GREAT!  She's good about giving as long as it's not something she wants.  I can't wait til she realizes we're not just putting paper into those red buckets!

You Can't Pick Your Child's Friend's Parents...

We had a "Sanity Squad" meeting recently and the subject of friend's parents and parent's friends came up.  Sometimes your best friend has a rotten child and sometimes your child's friend has a terrible parent.  What can you do in either of those situations?

One of my friends brought up a situation where her mom's best friend was very critical of her as a child.  She picked on her about her ears, calling her "Dumbo" to a point where she's still so self conscious she never wears her hair pulled back and she refuses to wear hats.  Another one of my friends brought up how one of her mom's friends would constantly reprimand her for something even though her own daughter was doing the same thing, justifying it with, "My daughter probably learned it from your daughter!"  One of the other girls said that her best friend's daughter and her own daughter have been best friends for their whole lives but now she's not so sure they can hang out anymore because the mother let the two daughters do a lot of things that she herself would have never let her daughter do.  It sucks cuz sometimes a friendship has to be broken for love of your children.

The whole conversation started because they knew I have been dealing with my own issues when it comes to Daughter's friends.  There is this girl that Daughter is friends with.  I'm not a huge fan of the daughter but I'm even less of a fan of the mother.  This little girl has bit Daughter, pushed Daughter, hit Daughter and constantly steals anything Daughter is playing with, whether we're at our house or her's, screaming, "MINE!"  No kidding at all, the only two words you can understand out of this girl's mouth are no and mine.   Yet, no matter how much I dislike the daughter, the mother is worse.

Daughter met this girl on the playground and they seemed to like each other.  The mother came up to me and we had a decent conversation.  The mother brought up having play-dates for the girls.  I thought it was a good idea since the girls got a long well enough.  So, play-dates were set up.

Now, the fun begins! (Since you can't hear my voice, I'll let you know...that was sarcasm!)  The mother started in almost instantly about Daughter being on the small side for her age.  I know Daughter is small but what's wrong with being a petite girl?  Her doctor says she's perfectly healthy so I don't worry.  I left it alone.  Then came the attacks on Daughter's ears...they do stick out a little but they're cute and if you ever call my daughter Dumbo people will start referring to you as "Wired Shut Jaw Lady". The mother asked me if I had considered plastic surgery so that Daughter won't be picked on for her ears as she gets older.  No I never have, I considered raising a confident daughter so that something like that wouldn't bother her much and she would tell rude people like you where to shove it if they brought it up.  Of course, I didn't say that whole sentence, just the part about hoping that she's confident enough not to be bothered.

If you have more than one child, you might have dealt with the regression of the older sibling.  Well, I did.  Daughter became more whiny and clingy for about a month after Son was born.  During this time, we had a play-date with this mother-daughter duo and she informed me that I should have distanced myself from Daughter before Son was born so Daughter wouldn't have been so shocked when my universe stopped revolving around her.  She told me that this is how she dealt with her daughter when she was pregnant with her son.  She said that she forced her daughter to give her alone time. This was why her daughter understood that when she was with her son her daughter needed to leave her alone.  Yes, that's brilliant!  Not setting your children up for sibling rivalry and feelings of animosity at all!  (Again, note the sarcasm!)  I just said that I'm trying to make it through this phase and I had heard it happens a lot.

Yep, I either kept my mouth shut or tried to calmly guide the conversation away from blowing up.  I knew my fuse was already lit and if I let myself go it would be ugly.

Several people told me to try to address it calmly by having a conversation.  I did this, simply stating that I was uncomfortable with the way she talks about my daughter especially in front of my daughter and her reply was, "Well, sometimes the truth hurts."

We had to cancel a play-date a little while ago when Daughter and Son were sick (I was really broken up about it...again...sarcasm!) and I never called to reschedule.  The mother recently called me and wanted to set up another play-date.  I really thought about letting her have it, telling her everything that I thought about her and her daughter, unloading all of the witty things I had come up with and ending the conversation with, "Sometimes the truth hurts."  Instead, I said, "I know I can't pick my daughter's friends but I can pick which friend's parents I want to spend time with." and hung up with a smile on my face.  For some reason she hasn't called me back.

Silence is Deafening

I often wish that I could have some peace and quiet.  There's ALWAYS someone in my house yelling or the TV is on or Daughter is singing or Son is screaming or some noise of some kind.  There is silence only when everyone is sleeping and then I'm asleep too and unable to enjoy it.

So when Him announced he was going to take Daughter with him to run some errands yesterday...I thought to myself YIPPY!  Some peace and quiet!  I thought about how I used to really enjoy being alone in my house.  I thought the silence would be so wonderful.  Him and Daughter left and Son went down for his nap about ten minutes after they left.

Then I heard....NOTHING!  It was amazing!

I made myself a real lunch and got to eat it while it was still hot.  I watched The Closer series finale that had been sitting on my DVR for two months unwatched.  I laid down on the couch and read a few chapters out of a book.  It was wonderful.

And then...I sat there.

I realized I had no idea what to do with myself if no one was running around needing me or making noise.  WHAT!?!?  How did this happen?  I know I used to do a lot of things before my house was overtaken by my children.  I used to spend whole days by myself in my house doing things but none of the things I used to do were coming to mind right then.  The silence was actually annoying.  I couldn't believe how much I missed the sound of Daughter running throughout the house and bashing toys around in her playroom.  The silence was not as great as I thought it would be!

About an hour later, I heard the truck pull into the driveway and I went outside.  Daughter came running up to me with a huge hug and started telling me all about what they did while they were gone.  She ran inside, went straight for her playroom and started banging dishes around in her kitchen.  Then I heard Son talking on the monitor.  Him came in and turned the TV on to watch the race.

And I started thinking I really should have enjoyed the silence a little more.

Making Fun Out of Yelling

I recently read a post on BloggingDangerously.com called The Luckiest Mom.  It cracked me up.  It's all about how she yells at her children too much so she tries to work in "good" yelling.  Yelling things like, "I'M THE LUCKIEST MOM!"

I have realized I yell at Daughter too much too.  I really don't yell at Son, cuz well, he's three months old...he doesn't do anything too maddening yet.  Overall, Daughter really is a great kid.  She's very helpful with her brother, almost too helpful sometimes.  She's really good about playing by herself quite often which helps me have a little down time here and there.  And yet, there are the other times.  She's really good at pushing buttons until I'm at my breaking point.  She's awesome at yelling so loud and so much that her poor brother can't sleep causing me hair pulling happiness when he's overtired and all he can do is scream.  She challenges me at every corner on anything I tell her to do.  Punishing most of the time is pointless because she finds a way out of it.  Put her in the corner for time out and she spits on the floor...can't leave her in time out cuz her spitting causes more reasons for yelling.  Send her to her room she screams for about two minutes and then I hear her laughing and she's playing with her bedding making it into some fort or something...where's the punishment in  having fun?  She is so maddening sometimes that I just finally explode and yell at her!  At these points I often sing, "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming..." to myself and it brings a smile to my face for at least a few seconds.

After reading The Luckiest Mom post, I thought 'Heck...I can do that!'.  So I started grabbing Daughter's face and yelling, "I LOVE YOU!" every time I was near that breaking point.  At first, she was shocked into silence by this and then, as it happened more, she started yelling, "I LOVE YOU TOOOO!" back in my face.  It would make us both giggle and we'd hug and she's run off to play and I would keep all my hair.  I was in love with this new turn around!

We recently had to go to the doctor and Grandmama went with us.  In the truck, Daughter yells out, "I LOVE YOU!"  Grandmama looks at me, a little shocked by the loud announcement of affection, so I explain.  Grandmama, now knowing what's going on yells, "I LOVE YOU TOOOO!" at Daughter.  We all break into giggles.

At the doctor's office, Daughter is playing with this other little girl who was about her age and they're having a great time.  The little girl's name was called to go back and see the doctor.  I watched as my daughter grabs the little girl's face, goes nose to nose with her and yells, "I LOVE YOU!"  First shock, and then...oh, the giggles from the three in my family and the stares of WTF? from the rest of the waiting room made my whole day a little brighter!

Yes, I think "good" yelling has improved my happiness in life with my children!  A big thank you to Kit at Blogging Dangerously for the hilariously awesome idea!

Going Out Screaming, "I LOVE ME!" and "You There...YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL!"

This post is a little heavier than some of the other ones I've written so, sorry, you might not be laughing as hard at my life as usual.

Seeing as how it's Bully Prevention Month and due to the AWESOMENESS that is Jennifer Livingston standing up to bullies on the evening news, I've been thinking about bullying and confidence a lot.

I have been told by female ex-employees from the bar that I influenced them to understand that you can stand up for yourself without being a bitch and yet when a time calls for it, whip that bitch card out and let someone have it.  Women as a whole seem to think that we have to be pleasant and accept twenty roles at once and burn ourselves down to a nub just to keep everybody happy.  We have to smile and look the other way when that guy at the bar makes remarks about us being a dog or too fat or not having big enough boobs or whatever!  Yep, smile and pretend you didn't hear it.  Go home, look at yourself in the mirror, hear all those comments running around in your head and feel bad about what you see?!?!  Feel bad about who you are as a whole cuz of some moron's comments!?!?  BULLSHIT!

I've been a target many times.  I have been called fat, unattractive and told that I was obviously stupid cuz I was "just a bartender".  I have had many of my own 'look in the mirror and hate what I see' moments.  I won't pretend I'm above it.

I'll admit, my own daughter has heard me belittling myself.  I say things like, "I need to put on make-up before I go out in public so I don't scare the small children.", "I need to lose some weight.", "I look horrible in this, I need to go change."  It makes me sad to think of what I'm passing on to her.  I really need to quit!

What I'm getting at is, I really think we women need to be better role models for our own daughters and young girls everywhere and stand up for ourselves...stand up to the bullies in our own lives.  Stop looking in the mirror and hearing those hurtful comments.  Look again and think of the compliments you've been given over the years.  Don't swallow your pride when some jackass makes a hurtful comment about you or your friends.  Put them in their place!  Call them out!  SCREAM, "I LOVE ME!"

In response to Bully Prevention Month, I say we go out and make Anti-Bully comments to each other.  Go out sometime this month and when you see some woman with beautiful eyes, TELL HER.  A beautiful smile, TELL HER.  A killer outfit, TELL HER!  You can be the bright spot of sunshine in some one's bad day!  So I'm issuing this as a challenge to the readers of my blog...however few there are...we can make a difference!  I want you to go out and give that compliment.  Then, I want you to share your compliment and their response as a comment at the end of this blog post.  Now get out there!  Go see the beauty in each other!  Go be some one's ray of light! GO BE ANTI-BULLIES!

"Sanity Squad" Signal

I want a "Sanity Squad" Signal.  Like the Bat Signal only better.  It will shoot out a beam of light letting J and A know that I need them to come over, kidnap me, have Jack and beer handy and a plan of totally un-mommy outings of debauchery at the ready.

I will have to really think about how to design that though cuz the Bat Signal has a bat.  A signal that just had "Sanity Squad" written out would be too boring.  Maybe handcuffs shooting across the sky in lighted glory would be fitting.  "Handcuffed at home!  Come kidnap me!"  Take that Mr. Grey, I don't hide mine in a red room of shame...I shoot 'em across the sky IN LIGHTS!

If I had said signal, it would be used tonight!

Checklist for the approved use of the "Sanity Squad" Signal:

1. Not enough sleep for me, Daughter or Son: I'm guessing Daughter used to wake up a lot during the night but she would roll over, find binka and go back to sleep so, if you've been keeping up with my posts, you know she no longer finds binka when she rolls over.  Last night she would wake up, not find binka and start whining. I'd go comfort her and then walk straight into Son's room cuz now he needed to be calmed from being woke up by Daughter's whining.  About every half hour, press repeat.  Not enough sleep? CHECK!
2. Daughter pushing buttons:  I tell her not to yell...two seconds pass...yelling.  I tell her to eat and I hate it when she breaks food into minuscule pieces supposedly to make it easier to eat only to leave almost all of her food still on her plate and now inedible dust so...what does she do?  HA, you got it!  I say don't try to sit on your ball...not only does she try to sit on her ball, she falls, bashes her face into the floor and without taking the chance to cry, cuz I know it hurt, springs up and says, "I did what you told me not to!" with a defiant smirk.  Pushing Buttons? CHECK!
3. Son doesn't get his morning nap: Son normally takes his morning nap around the time that I get Daughter lunch.  If Son doesn't get his morning nap, there's little hope for the rest of the day.  I bring Son upstairs, put him in bed, turn on the monitor, tell Daughter that it's lunchtime and then nap-time.  Screaming Daughter says, "I DON'T WANT TO TAKE A NAP!  IF I DON'T EAT LUNCH IT'S NOT NAP-TIME!  I DON'T WANT LUNCH!"  Good deductive reasoning daughter o' mine and yet...WRONG!  But the screaming woke Son up.  No morning nap for Son? CHECK!
4. Daughter fights nap: Now I have an overtired Son that is screaming.  I calm him down enough to read Daughter stories.  Son and I head downstairs so his screaming won't keep Daughter up.  Silly me!  I thought she'd actually try to take a nap!  No she shouts and whines and screams about never getting what she wants cuz I didn't make her lunch.  Remember that part where she yelled at me that she didn't want lunch..yeah, me too!  When I get up to her room and remind her of that, she decides she needs to pee...no, she needs a drink...no, a teddy bear to cuddle...no, her blanket (that she kicked off) back on.  Stalling and fighting nap? CHECK!
5. Trying to sooth Son out of screaming cuz he hasn't been allowed to sleep:  Think about it...how pissed are you when someone continually wakes you up when you just wanna sleep?  I say from experience...PLENTY!  So Son and I cuddle, him screaming at the top of his lungs, little face crimson red, for a good 45 mins until, due to pure exhaustion, he passes out in mid-scream.  Son screaming?  CHECK!
6. Daughter only takes a 30 minute nap after a full hour of screaming: SERIOUSLY!?!? CHECK!
7. Then bring back the button pushing...CHECK!  And the whining (cuz she didn't need a nap at all!)...CHECK!

And now that the day's checklist has been met and the day isn't even over...if you see a big pair of handcuffs lighting up the night sky...it means IT'S MAMA'S NIGHT OUT!

The Great Binka Battle of 2012

I remember it like it was yesterday...because it was.  Binka was down!  A gaping hole in her side.  There was no saving binka and now I had to deliver the news to the little girl that was looking forward to napping with binka that afternoon.  This is going to be a hard announcement to make.

Binka-a.k.a- paci, pacifier, binky, pipe, soother...she had been with Daughter through all kinds of good times and bad and now binka would no longer be able to be there for her.

I admit, I am not normally know for my soft qualities but when it comes to my kids...I'm a pansy.  The whole "cry it out" method seems crazy to me.  I can't imagine, as a mom, being able to hear your kids screaming and not immediately wanting to soothe them.  I mean, obviously there are times that their screaming goes ignored or results in me turning on them and saying something along the lines of, "QUIT IT NOW OR I WILL LEAVE EVERYTHING IN THIS CART AND DRAG YOU OUT BY YOUR EAR!"  But when they're crying cuz they need soothing?  I'm right there to rock them, cuddle them or sing to them.  Because of this, I have let Daughter hold on to binka WAY TOO LONG!

When she was born, in the hospital they gave her a Gumdrop binka.  Daughter took to that binka like a long lost friend.  We had to order them from an online store cuz nowhere around here sold them and that was the only binka she would use.  That was still WAY easier than I figured taking it away would be.  Daughter was never spotted without it from birth til about two years old.  Around that time we stripped it from daytime use unless she was in the truck.  Then it was just easier to drive without her crying/screaming in the backseat...don't want a distracted driver do you?  Slowly we got rid of it in the truck making her go short trips without it and going for longer and longer trips without it.  We got it down to just at nap-time and bedtime and we were planning on going to just bedtime soon and then down to no binka.

But then, binka got wounded and the wound was big with pieces falling off (HELLO CHOKING HAZARD!).  We had to let binka go earlier than planned.

I was reading nap-time stories to Daughter yesterday and she had binka in her mouth.  She kept coughing and finally she was covering her mouth with one hand and holding binka in the other.  I notice this laceration in binka with pieces of the silicone hanging off in little shards.  I grabbed it and told Daughter that binka had a big hole in it and she was choking on pieces of it.  I proceeded to tell her that binka was broke and she couldn't use it anymore.  OH THE CRYING!  I cuddled her and sang to her and rocked her and Him let her say goodbye to binka and I laid in bed with her til she turned to me and said, "Mama, go downstairs now.  I wanna go to sleep and I can't with you in my bed."

Instant self high-five!  This was WAY easier than I had imagined it would be!

You should never self high-five until you know that you actually deserve it.  Hit the bottom of the stairs and the screaming starts, "I NEED BINKA!  MAMA I NEED YOU TO GET ME A NEW BINKA! I WON'T GO TO SLEEP WITHOUT BINKA!"  I had such a hard time staying downstairs...I could hear her WITHOUT the monitor and I was slowly having my heart broken.  I kid you not, I almost went to the store and bought a new one!  And then, there was silence.  No self high-five yet...I learned.

After about fifteen minutes of silence I sneak up to her room and sure enough, Daughter was passed out for the first time ever WITHOUT binka!

WE WON THE BATTLE!  I'm still hoping we win the war!

Stay-At-Home...DAD?

Yep, some dad's are actually staying home with the kids now because they are married to women that never wanted to be stay-at-home-moms or they wanted to keep the high powered job they already had or for whatever reason, the moms are bringing home the bacon and the dads are staying home.  Stay-at-home-dad's are a growing breed.

I was at a mom's group Friday.  (I KNOW, it freaks me out that I'm a member of a mommy group too, but these chicks are pretty cool.)  One of the mom's brought up a friend of her's that is a stay-at-home-dad and he was talking about how women don't seem to want him at mommy groups.  It got me thinking...why?

This dad is going through all the same stuff as the moms.  I mean, yeah, OK, he didn't carry the baby for nine months or give birth or breastfeed the baby but so what?  So, by that measure the mom that chooses not to breastfeed, or for some reason can't, isn't allowed at a mommy group?  How about the woman that had a surrogate or adopted?  She didn't carry the baby, give birth or breastfeed the baby either.  That chick is blacklisted!  But she's not...cuz she's a mom?

So mom groups are discriminating against dads because they have the wrong equipment between their legs it seems.  I say between their legs cuz I know there are moms without boobs and dads with boobs...just saying!

Does this guy have it better cuz he's a man?  NO!  He might even have it harder cuz there is a stigma about the stay-at-home-dad.  They supposedly should feel emasculated due to their effeminate role.  Shouldn't us stay-at-home-moms take offense to that?  I feel that it takes a lot of physical, mental and emotional strength just to make it through the day as a stay-at-home-mom cuz you're on call 24/7.  Do you think the dad gets to punch out at 5pm just cuz he's a dad?  I'll even admit, I feel a little more uncomfortable when I take Daughter and Son to the park and see a guy there with kids.  (Even more so if he doesn't have kids though...that guy's creepy!)  I can't even explain it but I'm more willing to talk to the other moms then the dad.  The dad with his kids throwing tantrums in the grocery store gets a lot less sympathetic looks from older women too cuz they don't comprehend the idea of a stay-at-home-dad.  Somehow, in the realm of child care, we're stuck in the 50's and the men work and the women take care of the kids.

Him has freely admitted he would gladly stay home with the kids if I wanted to go out and get a job that paid well. Here's the truth though...my personality doesn't seem to fit with those jobs.  It seems I question authority and can't start at the bottom cuz I make a TERRIBLE employee.  So our house will stay in the stay-at-home-mom realm til I take anger management classes and learn to accept leadership even from morons! :)

The stay-at-home-dad has to get up with the kids, get them dressed, get them breakfast, deal with the tantrums, try to survive the grocery store, take the kids to the library or the park, carry the diaper bag, push the stroller, change the diaper...just like us moms.  He has to do it all with people looking at him wondering where the kids' mom is and wondering if he's a stay-at-home-dad if it's because he's not good enough at anything to make more money than his wife is or if he was hen-pecked into this role.

Sure, the dad probably wants a cold beer at the end of a particularly hard day with the kids when most moms would say they prefer wine but I would rather have a beer or some whiskey or the rocks so I won't discriminate against him there.

I say let the dads into the mommy groups!  If he starts trying to breastfeed his baby while there, then...you have reason for concern!

Remember When...

Him and I have been married for eight years now.  We spent the first five years in the "married with no kids" demographic.  I remember those times.  We were basically married roommates.  He worked during the day six days a week and I worked nights at a bar four nights a week.  He'd come home at 5:30pm and I had to be to work by 6pm.  I'd come home at 4am and he had to be to work at 7am.  I literally had our house to myself most of the time!

I remember I would play LOUD music and dance about when I wanted to relax.  Now I can play music...quietly...as long as the kids aren't asleep.  To relax now, I shut EVERYTHING off if the miracle of them both taking a nap at the same time happens or I find a moment that I can safely escape to the garage...not my front porch in the sun...I might have neighbor walk by and talk to me and that's not silence.  I now understand the saying, "Silence is golden." because I so rarely get to hear it.  And the constantly high noise level in my house is exhausting!

Being exhausted all the time is something I never used to feel.  I remember actually being able to sleep when I was tired.  I would take a nap in the middle of the day if I was tired.  Now, I can't go to sleep unless both kids are asleep and then it's a guarantee that one or the other will have a bad dream or need something or just plan decide 5am is a good time to want to play!  I never understood what tired really meant before I had children.

On the same note, I remember being able to eat when I was hungry.  I was hungry, there was food, I ate.  Simple right?  Not when you have one child yelling that she wants to go outside and the baby screaming cuz he's so tired but can't fall asleep cuz the first one won't stop yelling.  Now, I shovel what food I can in my mouth, barely chew and try to survive on coffee and Mountain Dew!

Speaking of coffee...I used to enjoy the taste of coffee.  I would sit there with a cup of coffee on my front porch enjoying the sunshine and it would slowly help me open my eyes to a beautiful day.  Now, I slug a cup of coffee down like a shot of whiskey because I won't get the chance to drink it while it's still hot if I don't and I don't like cold coffee.  A couple leisurely cup in the morning used to do me a world of good too.  Now I drink two pots, one in the morning and one around lunchtime, before switching to Mountain Dew.

When you drink that much you have to pee a lot.  I remember getting to go into the bathroom BY MYSELF!  Now, no matter what I'm doing in the bathroom, I have an audience!  If I'm peeing, Daughter claps for me and congratulates me for peeing on the potty.  If I'm taking a shower, Daughter comes in and watches and wants to play 20 questions about the shower itself, my body, shaving, etc.  I just want to take a shower without two little eyes poking around the shower curtain!  But I'm sure once Son can walk, it will be four.

Which leads into, I want to be able to take a shower where I don't just throw water and soap at myself and jump out!  I remember, I used to come home from work sometimes and take a half hour long shower just letting the hot water bash across my shoulders and take the stress away and then follow that up with an hour long bath just cuz it felt good.  Now I usually wait til both kids are asleep and I'm so tired I couldn't care less how good the hot water feels cuz I need to get sleep while I can.  OR I take one after Him gets home from work and before we have to give the kids a bath, feed them dinner and throw them in bed so it becomes rush through just making sure water touched my hair and I don't stink.

Rushing...that is a term that becomes known well when you become a parent too.  I used to be able to make last minute plans with friends and be there in a half hour, that included a shower.  Now, to get both kids and myself out the door in under an hour is a feat all on its own.  Argue with Daughter about what she's going to wear, get her changed just in time for her to announce she has to pee so half her outfit has to come back off.  Tell her that she's not bringing half her playroom with her and deal with the following tantrum.  Get Son fed.  Change his clothes cuz he spit up.  Change my clothes cuz he spit up on me.  Son falls asleep. I throw makeup at my face hoping to mask the bags under my eyes when I look down to see Daughter got into some blue eyeshadow and has it all over her white shirt.  Change Daughter's clothes.  Go to put Son in his car seat.  Son wakes up screaming cuz he has a wet diaper.  Change Son's diaper.  Put him back in the car seat.  Argue with Daughter about what shoes she's going to wear trying to explain why snow boots are not needed on an 80 degree day.  Cowboy boots it is.  Pack the diaper bag and run out the door to realize apparently while carrying Son to his car seat he spit up on my shoulder. Decide I don't care.  Because I'm so tired and frustrated, I rub my eyes, smearing mascara under them making those bags I tried to cover look worse than if I hadn't even bothered with makeup.  Then, after an hour, we'd be on time...if whatever we were doing was in our driveway!  And that's without a shower!

I'm not saying I would trade my life now for my life without kids cuz my kids really are a ton of fun and I can't imagine my life without them but some days, the idea that sooner or later they'll be able to function more independently and I will be able to take a shower without an audience is all that keeps me going...that and LOTS of caffeine!

Dumb It Down A Little!

Sometimes I really do think it would be easier to raise a stupid child.

Some days I want one of those kids that zones out on the T.V. and you never have to answer questions cuz there isn't a single one in that kid's head.  The kid that doesn't even learn to talk til they're about three and a half and can't count past 10 til they're 5. The kid that doesn't look at getting new books as if it's the greatest, coolest gift EVER.

Sure, I am glad we have a highly intelligent little girl but I worry sometimes that she's going to be smarter than me in a matter of a few years.  What worries me the most is the fact that she might ask me questions at 5 that I have to Google to be able to answer and the amount of money we might have to pay some tutor when she's taking classes in high school that I couldn't even get into in college!

Daughter is smart.

She's three and uses words that should SO not be in a three year old's vocabulary.  When she was about two and a half, Him was playing with the dog, they were making a ton of noise and Daughter comes out of her playroom and says, "I came in here to see what all the commotion was about?  What's the ruckus?" When she does run across a word she doesn't know she instantly asks what it means.

One day a couple months ago I gave Daughter some blueberries for a snack.  She sat there counted them out, there were 30 and then as she ate them she was saying, "30 take one away, 29.  29, take one away..."  (Yeah, I just started singing 'take one down, pass it around, 29 bottles of beer on the wall' too...you're not alone!).  I explain to her that that was subtraction and she says, "OK, so 30 subtract 14 is 16."   Why yes, yes it is!

She is CONSTANTLY asking questions and not just the normal toddler, "Why?"  No, Daughter says, "When I jump on the floor it doesn't bounce like when I jump on the bed...is that because it's made of different stuff?  Like because the bed is softer? So, it's springier?"  HUH?

You can't just sit her in front of the T.V. either because that just leads to more questions.  "So, on George today, they went to the mountains.  Can we go to those mountains?  I mean, not THOSE mountains cuz that's a cartoon but the real ones?  And when they went up there...there was snow on the ground...but why is there snow on the mountains when it's nice at the bottom of the mountain?"  Seriously, I already have to really THINK when she asks questions!?!?

Daughter twists what you said yesterday to fit what she wants to do today.  "But yesterday you told me that I could stay up later cuz I needed a bath.  Well, tonight I need a bath too cuz I got dirty in my sandbox." "I didn't have to pick up my playroom yesterday cuz it was too late so you said you would do it and I'm really tired so I think I should go to bed and you can pick up my playroom."  Manipulative little so and so!

And this is only 3 years in!?!?

I don't actually want her to dumb it down, I'm amazed by her smart butt all the time, but I do wonder quite often where it came from!

Thanks Mom!

I remember my mom yelling at me when I was younger.  She was always saying, "Why don't you listen to me when I tell you not to (insert whatever dumb activity I was doing at that time), you're going to hurt yourself!" "Why can't you watch your sister and your brother, when they did (that annoyingly dumb thing they did), they got hurt and yet, you follow right along behind them and do (that annoyingly dumb thing my sister and brother just did)!  Can't you learn from them?" and finally, out of sheer frustration, "Fine!  Go do (that stupid gonna-get-you-hurt thing) but don't come crying to me when you hurt yourself!"  I also remember her saying, "I hope you have a daughter just like you someday!"

Today, Daughter was running on the couch.  I say about twelve times, "Don't run around on the couch, you're gonna fall off and bash your head on the coffee table!"  Daughter pays no attention whatsoever and continues running back and forth across the couch.  I ask, "Are you going to listen to me and stop?  Cuz you are going to hurt yourself!"  This is then followed by the retelling of a story of her friend that fell off his couch, hit his head on a toy on the floor and had to go to the hospital for stitches.  The story was followed by, "Can't you learn something from that?  Or do you think he got hurt but you won't?"  Daughter replies with, "I'm not gonna get hurt cuz I won't fall off!"  I hear my mom's voice coming out of my mouth, "Fine!  Go ahead and run around on the couch but when you fall off and split your head open, don't come crying to me!"

Sure enough, about five minutes later, Daughter falls off the couch, hits her head on the lamp next to the couch and starts wailing.  I, just like my mom used to do, grab her and hug her to me, stroke her hair, ask if she's OK and kiss her head.  The whole time, as I suspect my mom used to do, laughing behind her back cuz now that I know she's OK, it was kinda funny!

Daughter says she's done with running on the couch now.  We'll see if she remembers that tomorrow!

So, thanks Mom for yelling at me, trying to teach me, still letting me fall and being there to pick me up when I did.  Also, thanks for the curse and blessing of a daughter just like me.

I have a feeling, someday down the line, I'll be telling my daughter I hope she has a daughter just like her.

MOM...QUIT LAUGHING!

Did That Just Happen?

I decided it was time to take Son to the doctor cuz Daughter and I have both recovered more or less from this sickness that invaded my home and yet Son doesn't seem able to kick it.

He's been coughing and having trouble sleeping and has been more fussy...so to the doctor we go.

I always hate the doctor's waiting area cuz there you are listening to all these other people hacking and sneezing and only about half of them are covering their mouths.  You can almost SEE the germ clouds spewing from their mouths every time.  Yes, some people are there for routine check-ups and yet, they might be leaving with the cold that the guy next to them came in with.  I'm really not a big germaphobe but at a doctor's office it seems to enter my mind much more.

We check-in and sit down, Son in his car seat.  There are several other mother's there with their sick children so snotty noses are everywhere.

And then comes the echo of, "Baby! Baby! Baby!"  ALL the little girls just saw the baby...A.K.A. my son.  What do almost all little girls love more than anything in the world? BABIES!  And they always want to come over and look at the baby and they touch the baby and they want to kiss the baby.

I hear a little girl ask her mom, "Mama, can I go see the baby? <HACK>?"
The mother, never looking up from her magazine, "Sure honey."

This little girl turns around and snot is running down her face into her mouth, I had already heard the hacking cough.  It was like that slow motion moment in the movies where they play the pounding footsteps of the impending danger.  In my head I hear the suspenseful music and I hear my inner voice screaming, "NOOOOOOO!"

And this little girl sneezed right in Son's face!  Did this really just happen? Yes, that was what I needed!  Come in to the doctor's office to figure out how to get him over the cold he has only to have him get this little girl's cold...yes, this was my dream!

I was sympathetic when I then looked at this little girl's mom who looked horrified and I realized not only does she have an incredibly sick daughter but, judging by her rudolph-nose and red eyes, she was sick too and wasn't getting to take a sick day or getting any sleep.  I'll feel bad for her as long as Son doesn't get her daughter's cold!

Dear Bored Person...

Dear Bored Person that decided to report my profile picture on Google as offensive:

Google has since reviewed it and OK'ed it, which does not surprise me since I found it on Google images.  I just want to say, I REALLY hope you are keeping up with my blog and are reading this.

I feel we got off on the wrong foot with you being so upset by the DRAWING of a fifties housewife that is less revealing than that of any picture of a celebrity, A REAL LIVE PERSON, in their micro bikinis on the cover of any magazine viewable at any grocery store checkout.  I thought we should talk about your definition of offensive and figure out why you are either A.) terribly repressed or B.) incredibly bored.

Seriously, this is a DRAWING of a woman in a bra with a bathrobe covering most of the rest of her, thigh highs and a pair of high heels!  She's almost covered head to toe.  If you're Amish then what are you doing on the internet and if you're not...explain to me the issue?!?!  Are you a repressed housewife whose husband wishes you would dress like that when he comes home?  If so, I suggest you go get a trench coat, some lingerie and some serious CFM knee high boots with major stiletto action and meet him at your front door.  Maybe then you will be a little more relaxed!

And if you're so incredibly bored with your real life that you troll the internet for things to be offended by...first off, I know you can find a lot more offensive things than my profile pic and second, step away from the computer, go outside, don't worry...that big shiny thing in the sky is the sun, it's supposed to be there...and find out that the things on your computer aren't what people are talking about when they tell you to "GET A LIFE!"

Signed,
Seriously offended by your delicate sensibilities,
Ann Onimous