One woman's travels through Motherhood

So you wanna know how I do it?

2016-09-12T09:58:00.000-05:00

Something I get asked a lot, mostly rhetorically, is 'how do you do it?' How do I manage being a single mom of two kids, work full time, compete in a highly competitive sport and still have flawless lipstick? (Ok, maybe not so much the last part, but if you must know, it's Stila Como and I fucking love it.)

I wish that I had some magic answer about how I meditate every morning and watch the sunrise and that the chi of garden fairies recharges my chakra or some bullshit. But let's be real here. That is in no way what really happens. This is how it usually goes.

I start my day with about 6 different alarms. No joke. Check out this screenshot. Go ahead and judge my battery level, I don't care. I live dangerously-ish.

I snooze to the second, check my phone until 6 and then I get up. The rest of them are because I simply don't trust myself. I hate mornings. I'm sure that will never change. After I drag myself out of bed, and pep talk myself for what I'm about to do. I got this. I am confident. I am strong. I can do this. I wake up the kids ever so nicely. I read somewhere that if you get woken up gently, then you wake up nicer. And these little fuckers need to be woken up sooo gently, it's like baking a souffle. I mean, I think it is. I don't bake fancy shit.

Then I make coffee. Armed with caffeine, I wake up my son again. Then possibly a third time and I'm not being so gentle as I threaten him with whatever creative form of punishment I can think of after only half a cup of coffee. After I have confirmed that his preteen angst has been fully awakened, I put on pants. Because it's too early in the school year to be that mom at the bus stop with no pants. Next month.

Fight with angsty child about the woes of having to have a sandwich in lunch. Threaten with creative punishment until he makes said sandwich. Pat self on the back for enforcing a balanced lunch and then sigh heavily when I realize he'll probably just throw it away. Fight with angry troll child about taking his meds in the morning until he finally just gives in and check his mouth like a prison guard. He's a slippery one that troll. Get the kids out the door to the bus, cheer not so silently as it pulls away then proceed to get ready for work.

Getting dressed and putting my make up on happens in various degrees based on how many alarms I had to use that day and how many wake up calls it took to rise the darling little heathens. Some days, it's a blessing I brush my hair. I usually wear a dress because it requires less thought and I look super put together. Fake it til you make it. Jump in car, usually late, and drive an hour to work. Congratulate myself on a fantastic commuter karaoke that I am positive my traffic neighbors enjoyed. Work all day which consists of answer questions as snarky as I can get away with, helping customers with issues and telling people no. That's my favorite.

Drive an hour home. Pick up children who refuse to stop talking the entire car ride home, which thankfully is now only 3 minutes. The longest three minutes of my day. Get the low down on a bunch of kids that I have never met, teachers that I should probably know but don't and activities that I'm not really paying attention to because I'm trying to remember if I took out something from the freezer for dinner. Spoiler alert, I didn't. Get home, tell kids to feed the dog and cat and tortoise. Get told I'm the worst for asking them to help. Figure out dinner. Top Ramen is super fancy with frozen veggies in it. Rewash that load of laundry for the 4th time. I'll remember to move it tonight. Spoiler alert, I won't.

Get through dinner. Break up about 2394 fights. Take 395684030 deep breaths. I'm very oxygenated. Tell myself I should start doing yoga again, I mean, I won't but I should. Stop the dog from eating cat poop. Be told I'm mean because I said no sleep overs on a school night. Told I'm mean because I told them to brush their teeth. Told I'm mean because....I'm not really sure why that last time, I stopped listening. Answer text messages. Facebook messages. Hid on the toilet for 20 minutes. Realize it's bed time and say a silent prayer of thanks and also for strength to get through this. Realize I need more then prayer, and get the wooden spoon. Put kids back to bed 2 times. Grab a bag of chips and dip, wine if I have it and cry in my closet because fucking balls that was a hard day.

Get up tomorrow and do it all again.

So long story short, I have no idea what I'm doing. I don't know how I do it. Some days are autopilot. Some days I get through counting the seconds to bedtime. Some days, thankfully more days then not, I am so blessed that I almost forget how hard it is. Almost in the same way you forget how much contractions hurt. You know they hurt, but you can't quite recall the pain in which you wanted to paint the walls with your significant other's blood for what they did to you.

Also, I laugh. And maybe drink more then I should a little. And I have a great tribe of women who have my back. That's how I do it.

Mean Mom

2016-09-11T21:21:00.000-05:00

Tonight, I am a mean mom. I'm literally the worst. I mean, they don't get any worse then me. What did I do that was so terrible? I asked them to go to bed. After the courtesy 5 minute bedtime warning. Who the hell do I think I am? How dare I yell at him after asking nicely 3 times? I should be shipped off to Azkaban and wait for 12 years until I learn how to transfigure into a dog to escape. I should be grounded forever. I should be marched around the neighborhood while all the neighbors watch my kids shame me ringing a bell.

After being told how I was such a mean mom, that I hate him and other random grumbling of a ten year old that just been told the tragic sentence of bedtime, I thought to myself "One day, one day he'll call me and apologize for being such an asshat. That reminds me, I should call my parents..." I can't possibly be the only mom who accused of being mean. I'm mean anytime I tell them no. Tell them they need to do something. Tell them, well, basically anything it seems now-a-days. I just can't win for losing. What did I do to deserve this? I birthed you out of my WOOOOMB! I GAVE YOU LIFE! I GAVE YOU THE LAST SLICE OF PIZZA AND THIS IS HOW YOU THANK ME???

Deep breath

Then I just have to remind myself. Kids are assholes. They are selfish. They can't think of how their actions affect others sometimes. They don't get how leaving a puddle of water on the bathroom floor will later lead to their mean mom slipping and pulling a groin muscle in a not so graceful reenactment of an Olympic gymnastic routine. SO selfish. But there are glimmers of hope in there. When they call strangers sir and ma'am. When they go out of their ways to play with the special needs kids at school. When they are gentle and kind to the neighbor's baby. The rare moments that they are sweet to each other right before someone gets slapped in the face and another war breaks out. Those moments, those are the ones that make being a mean mom worth it.

So I say to you, fellow mean moms, keep being mean. Keep setting boundaries and enforcing them. Keep on making the rules and showing you mean business. Stand your ground, cause you're a mean mom. And a damn good one.

It's time to admit, I might need some help.

2014-10-15T21:37:00.000-05:00

Ornithophobia - a type of specific phobia, an abnormal, irrational fear of birds.

Most people know that I suffer from this phobia. A lot of people think it's a humorous phobia and will tag me in pictures of birds and send me photos of flocks of birds hanging out on the telephone wires. I'm not really sure people understand how big of a phobia this is for me. I mean, I get it. It's kinda silly. It's an irrational fear. Part of my brain realizes that it's silly, and I am incredibly thankful for that part. Without that part of my brain, I would probably have crashed my car a million times by now.

I have to take a moment and collect myself right now. Even writing about this topic is making my heart race and is making me sweat. But I've got my Abita Pecan beer here, so I'll drink my way though this. What prompted me to really face this happened today. I really had thought I was getting better with this fear. For those who don't really know, my fear is of large flocks of birds in particular. I can do one bird, or pretty tropical birds in pet stores. But a large flock....forget it. Okay, so I was getting better, or that's what I thought. There is an intersection that I drive through on my way to work that has hundreds of birds just sitting on the wires, making so much noise I can hear them over my radio. But, every morning, I don't loose my shit. I feel my anxiety raise, my palms get sweaty, and I have to check my breathing but I don't lose my shit. I make it through the light.

I can coach myself through the birds if I can see them coming. I don't get panicked by smaller flocks anymore. It still stresses me out, but I can manage. I thought I was doing better. But today....I was driving to my mom's house to feed her fish. I haven't driven over there in awhile, and not since most of the birds have come down for the fall. I forgot about this intersection. 423 and Main. The birds love that intersection. Fucking love it. Must be the 7-11, I dunno. As I am approaching the intersection, at least 200 birds start to do their flock-swarm-flying-birdnado bullshit. I lose my shit. I mean, I literally lose my shit. If that light had been red, I would have ran it. If a cop would have tried to pull me over, not today buddy. I screamed. I broke out into an immediate sweat. I got chest pains, and was lightheaded. I couldn't catch my breath. I was on the verge of tears.

It. Was. Terrifying. I realized, not in that moment because all I could think of was get me the hell out of here, I need to get help for this. This is just out of control. I can't live like this. Unless I plan on moving out of Texas, which apparently is the migration destination....I'm screwed if I can't get over this fear.

I wanted to share this to a)maybe help me get over it b) help people understand just how big of a phobia it truly is and c) to ask...no beg of you, please stop tagging me in bird shit. I mean, really. Otherwise, I'm going to find out your fear and start posting that shit on your wall. Don't be an asshole.

Derby did more than just save my soul

2014-09-29T11:17:00.000-05:00

So everyone who knows me knows that I have been doing Roller Derby for just over a year. If you didn't know that about me, then you clearly don't listen and you're probably not reading this any damn way. This past year has changed so much about my body and even more about my mindset. People say that "derby saved my soul". Some people don't find that to be the case. I can only speak of my personal experiences with derby and what it has done for me. If you can relate to this is some way, fantastic. If you can't....that's a damn shame. You should do something that challenges you and changes you. It doesn't have to be derby!!

When I started derby last year, I knew that this was something that i really wanted to do. I had been waiting and wanting to do this for about 4 years or so. There just wasn't a good time and always an excuse not to do. Granted, it is quite the investment to get started, what with all the gear you need to have. Finally, after many excuses and rationalizing why I couldn't spend that kind of money on myself, I was actually at a point where this was going to happen.

Many people know what brought me here to Texas and if you don't, well I don't really feel like rehashing it. I'm here now and that's basically all that matters. I needed to find myself again. My confidence had been shaken, and I felt like an all around failure. I figured this was the time to put my energy into derby as a distraction. I needed something to focus on and I had no idea what this was actually going to do for me.

Going to my first practice was a little intimidating. I didn't know any of these women. I had been living in Texas for a month and the only people I knew were family and the one friend I had here. My league is blessed to have their own facility, but walking in there for the first time on my own was a big deal to me. I didn't do things on my own, not if I could avoid it, but this was something I was doing for myself. This was a dream and goal coming to life and I was ready for it, well as ready as I could be. Expecting to feel like an outsider, I was not prepared for how warm and welcoming they were. I immediately felt at home there. I'm not saying that's how it will be for everyone, but that's how it was for me. This was what I was looking for.

After that first practice, that was it. I had drank the kool-aid and I was not going back to life without derby. How could I? This was amazing. I might have become a little obsessed. I felt strong again. I felt like maybe my life wasn't such a mess. (I mean, let's be honest, it is. But at least while I was on the track, I didn't feel that way!) Things started to click and fall into place. Skating made me feel free and empowered. It became a metaphor for my life. You get hit, you fall, you get back up as fast as you can. Keep skating. It's not over until the final whistle. You keep chasing that jammer. You might laugh at me and say that's silly. It's just a game. I say to you, you don't get it and that's okay. You don't have to. It's not for you. It's for me. That's the other thing derby gave me back. My voice. I can say again, I don't need your permission. I don't need your approval. I don't need your validation. Because I'm not living my life for you. Do I want your support? Hell yes. But if you don't, and you can't understand why I do this sport where I go flying across the track and get back up and hug the girl who hit me, I'm not sure what to tell you. Because this sport is fantastic. Suck it.

Derby also gave me a new respect for my body. I have zero desire to have a thigh gap. (My phone will surely fall in the toilet if I had one. That's why I can't have nice things.)I don't want to be skinny, I want to be strong. We have a saying on my team 'Bigger the ass, harder to pass'. For my birthday, my parents even got me a necklace that says 'booty by derby'. And Lord is that ever the truth. My ass can not be contained by single digit jeans. And finally, I'm okay with that. I own it. I wear booty shorts to skate it. I wore leggings as pants. A year ago, never would have happened. Today, I dare someone to say something about it. No really. Please do, because this booty is GLORIOUS! Actually, don't say anything about because I still don't know how to take a compliment and will end up doing my "dress has pockets" dance.

This is a lot of words. And props to you for reading them all. I just had a case of the feels today about derby and am trying to get back into writing (thanks for the push Piggy!). What better way to get back into it then writing about something you love. If you have any questions about derby, my journey or whatever, I'm a pretty open book. Just ask.

All the small things...

2013-12-18T13:16:00.001-06:00

There are times when you are reminded to slow down a little. Sometimes you ignore them, as I usually do, but sometimes you just give in to it. Today was a day that I just needed to take a moment. Sure, there is laundry to do, dishes to wash, organize something...a million things that need to get done. But it was time for Livi to take a nap. She's at that fun age where she totally still needs a nap (or else she'll just be hateful to everyone and everything) but she totally thinks she doesn't need it anymore so she fights every second of the way.

Sometimes I can bribe her to take a nap with the promise of something fun when she wakes up. Usually it's food. She is so her mother's daughter. Other times, all it takes is for me to lay down with her. I usually say no because I use that bit of time before the other two kids come home from school to get done those things that will be impossible with three hooligans running around. Other times, hell I could use a nap! Today, I just felt the need to take this time to lay with her.

Entirely too soon, she's not going to want to be around me. Soon she'll think it's embarrassing when I bust out in song everywhere we go and will randomly have a dance party because that song on the store radio is my jam. Even though she swears to me that when she is a teenager she will still want to hang out with me, she's 5. What the hell does she know? Plus, she won't put it on tape, so I don't know how much I believe it.

It's really easy to get swept up this time year. Making sure that there are going to be enough presents under the tree, running around for last minute presents and trying to find that perfect ugly sweater. This moments don't come often enough and they don't last. I am going to start making a conscience effort to take these moments when they happen. The laundry isn't going anywhere, the dishes can wait and who am I kidding? I don't organize shit. Organized chaos, that's what I say. Nap time is sacred. Get it while you can.

Blame it on my ADD baby

2013-12-13T14:20:00.002-06:00

I haven't written on this blog in quite some time. I think it was because there was a lot going on in my world, and who wants to put all their dirty laundry out there? That's what Facebook's for! Now that things have sort of settled down, I got an urge to write on here and so here I am.

Brief history of the last 4 months or so: Broke up with bf, was going to stay in Bama, shit got crazy, moved to Texas, joined Roller Derby, live with my mom and yeah, we're current now. So that's fun.

But right now, the biggest thing that's going on in my life would be with my son. He has developed some tics over the last year or so. We have been trying to figure out where these are coming from. First, we saw a doctor in Alabama who specialized in ADD/ADHD. After a long, end of the year conversation with his first grade teacher, we had agreed that could be a possibility and he should be evaluated. Off we went to the doctor. First, you have to meet with a counselor. They ask you a bunch of questions, you fill out questionnaires about your child's behavior and then they talk to your kid. I did not like that we talked about what was going on in front of him. I really was uncomfortable with that because the last thing I want to do is make him think that there is something wrong with him.

After meeting with the counselor, who determined he met the standards for ADHD, we met with the doctor. His plan was to start him on a stimulant medication and see if that improved the tics any. However, the medication said do not use if you have tics because it makes it worse. Perhaps he missed that. And, it did in fact make them worse. So I stopped giving it to him. (I was already told that this wasn't a medication that had to build up in his system and I did not have to give it to him every day.)

During this time, everything was kind of falling apart and we suddenly needed to move to Texas. I'm talking we were in within two weeks of deciding that this move needed to happen. This is a lot for even me to deal with, let alone a child. So I have taken into consideration that this could be a factor. Now that we are here in Texas, we are seeing a neurologist. He is taking a non-stimulant for the ADHD, which I'm on the fence on if it is even working and we are running down the list of possible treatments before we can reach the diagnoses of Tourette's. There is no test for that. It's basically if it's nothing else, and it doesn't go away then I guess that's what it is. Since he's not yelling out curse words like a dirty old sailor, I guess we just have to wait and see what happens.

Another thing it could be is anxiety. Which we are trying an anti-anxiety medication to see if that decrease and eliminates the tics. Now, I know a lot of people are against medication for treatment of this (you know who you are, you handsome man) but should this medication eliminate the tics, I plan to take him off of it completely and treat the cause of his anxiety. Until then, he's going to keep skating in Junior Roller Derby, kick ass in school and keep on tic-ing. (See what I did there?)

Might be time for Locks of Love Rapunzel

2012-11-05T11:01:00.001-06:00

How did this:

Become this:

you ask? That is a good question. While helping Livi clean up her room yesterday, mainly because I couldn't find her bathing suit (which it turns out, I had put in a bag to take to the sprinkler park thing, oops) and I came across about 15 dolls which looked like they were crack addicts. They were half naked, and their hair was...well you saw the top picture. At least she was dressed though.

So I started to do some research on what I could do to fix their hair. I found one woman's blog about brushing the same doll's hair. (Cookie and Claire) I didn't have a wig brush, so I made due with a comb and a regular brush.

I made the detangler spray with fabric softener and water. I used the lavender vanilla scented on in hopes that it would relax me while I brushed all this stupid hair. When I began this process, I'm not going to lie, I asked myself what the hell I was thinking when I bought this doll in the process?! You would think that by this day in age, they would have created a way to keep doll hair from becoming so tangled. (I guess that was the point of this particular doll though....)

The whole process took about 30 minutes. I think Rapunzel lost about as much hair as she kept. I did break it up into sections to make the task a little easier. Half-way though, I about quit. I didn't think it would be as big of a pain the ass as it was. I guess I figured that homemade detangler would work magic and just untangle the whole thing on it's own. But I soldiered on and finished it up. Needless to say, that is the only doll who got her hair brushed.

On an added note: I started this post about a month ago....I still have yet to brush another doll's hair.

Crafty day today

2012-05-21T07:27:00.000-05:00

Today, while the kiddos were playing in the sprinkler (be jealous my New England readers!), I decided I needed to be crafty. I just had to make something. I've been like that a lot lately, and I think it might have a lot to do with my new obsession with pinterest. But that's a different blog post. I was thinking about things, and I've decided that I'm going to start posting the things that I have actually made from my pinterest endeavors. There are a few things that I have made already, for example a braided rag rug (which I still have to finish sewing together), peanut butter chip bananas (pretty tasty), some fabric flowers and some headbands. You're not missing too much yet. Is there something you saw on pinterest that you want to make, but aren't sure how it's going to turn out? Not really sure how to do it? Lemme know, we can figure it out together.

My goal now is to make everything that I pin....eventually. If I'm not actually going to make it, then why pin it right? It's pretty easy to get carried away with it all. And if I'm going to make it, might as well share the process with you. Whether the process works, or not. At least I can save you from making some of the mistakes I've made...for example, the time I tried to make my own paper mache glue....I pretty sure the glue was not suppose to be as think and nasty as it turned out. Moving on.

While thinking about what I could make with what I had, I found an old picture frame. I've been wanting to make a white board out of a picture frame, but didn't really want to go to walmart and buy a new frame and I hadn't had time to go to the thrift store to check out what they had so I considered this to be a lucky find!

The first thing you have to do is take the glass out of the frame. After taking out the back and the glass, I realized that I might have damaged the frame structure a little. But nothing a little wood glue can't fix. No biggie. I pulled out my new favorite thing, paint samples I got at Lowes for less then $3.00 a piece. Sometimes you can get lucky and get a great color on the "oops" paint, but if you're looking for a particular color, they can mix up a sample for you. I've found that this is the perfect size for crafting projects.

I went with the new summer colors from Valspar, Filoli Antique Lace and Twilight Meadow. Something fresh and bright. After you take the glass and the frame apart, you paint them. The frame is simple enough to paint. Just make sure to do a few thin coats so it goes on evenly. The pane of glass on the other hand....I think because we were outside and it was so hot that it caused the paint to dry unevenly. Or it could be that I tried to be cheap and use a really cheap paint brush. In hindsight, I wish I had a foam roller. I bet that would have done it better. You live, you learn.

So it's now painted. Make sure everything is even and coated. Pick your pane of glass and check the back side. Can you see anything through it? If you can, and you have OCD like me, make sure you touch it up. I went ahead and brought the glass inside to dry after touching it up, in hopes that the cool air would help it dry better. It definitely helped. Once everything is dried, you are going to very carefully put your glass back into the frame. Make sure that the painted side is on the inside. Be careful when putting the cardboard and back on the frame that you don't chip your paint job, because it will very easily scrape off the glass. You want the smooth side of the glass to be showing because that's what you are going to be writing on.

And now you're finished. Unless you 're like me and broke the frame during the process and now have to glue it back together. Then you're not finished. But it was close enough to take a picture and for you to get the idea. You're very own white board. You can use this for everyday use in your house, or as a neat alternative to the chalkboard photo booth that people are using in weddings. No one wants chalk dust on their fancy clothes!! It's a super simple project that can be done in less than an afternoon and to whatever color combo you fancy. Happy crafting everyone!

Shouldn't everyday be Mother's Day??

2012-05-10T20:45:00.001-05:00

I realize that I have neglected my blogging duties as of late. I apologize. I could give you a bunch of excuses about how I've been super busy moving down the east coast, or how I am taking classes online, but I think what it really boils down to is that I have developed a serious Pinterest addiction. They say admitting it is the first step.

Mother's Day is fast approaching, and I feel the need to write my thoughts about it. I thought of even making a top 5 list of things that I would love for Mother's Day. I really thought about all the things that the commercials say that mothers want. But let's be real, who really really wants a new refrigerator for mother's day? I mean, I'm not going to lie, I really want a new washer and dryer. Mainly because we don't have one now and I am so sick of going to the laundromat! (As convenient as it is to do 6 loads at once.) So, without further ado, here is my top 5 list:

1. Anything homemade. I love when the kiddos draw me pictures or make me a "spaceship" out of legos or whatever. I don't care if it cost you any money to make, the thought behind it is what is important. I have a whole box of drawing and scribbles and all that good stuff that I can bear to throw away!!

2. If I'm going to dream, I'm going to dream big. I would love to have enough craft supplies to be able to make everything on my Pinterest boards. Man I have an addiction. I know it's a problem.

3. I know I said appliances are out. But I really hate the laundromat! Washer and dryer!

4. A day at the spa. What mom doesn't want to be pampered? A good massage can do wonders! Yeah buddy!

5. A nap. Enough said.

All joking aside, I don't need anything really for Mother's day. I get little things all the time just because. Like the Hunger Games books, which I read in a single day, each. Little moments with the kids, when Cole reads to me or Livi tells me what number is what. Those are the things that are important to me. Those are the times that I truly love being a mommy. Then they do something crazy that just makes me forget all that crap and want to 'smack the taste out their mouth'.

Bedtime Routine

2012-03-25T19:28:00.000-05:00

Like many people, I try to have a bedtime routine with the kids. With my old job though, it was difficult because I was pretty much always at work during bedtime. That, of course, just added to that lovely mommy guilt that I tend to feel, but I digress. Back to the routine....

First of all, we start with dinner. This evening's delicious dish was hot dogs and mac and cheese for the kids and a nice salad with chicken for the grown-ups. While that salad was good, it was no mac and cheese, which is what my stomach really wants, but my ass does not. If the kids eat all of their dinner, they can have dessert, which tonight was leftover dessert pizza from Papa John's. We had vanilla yogurt with granola and white chocolate chips. I know you're all jealous of our incredible healthy dinner and dessert.

After dinner, it's shower time. This evening was especially hilarious. While the kids were taking their showers, we took turns dumping freezing cold water over the shower curtain on them.....Cole thought it was much funnier then Olivia, who isn't a big fan of water in her face. She doesn't even like the water park because of that, she's not very much fun. Then it was time to get dressed. Both of those hooligans love being naked. Cole will run around the house, and probably outside if you let him, naked. He thinks it's just the funniest thing ever. Olivia on the other hand, likes to point out to everyone that she's naked, but then proceeds to tell them not to look at her privates. I do appreciate her concern to have people respect her modesty, I just wish that she was actually modest.

Once they are in their jammies, it's time to get their hiney's in bed. Usually, there will be a story, complete with appropriate voices and sound effects. Tonight, we were running a bit late, and wanted them to just get into bed, so I just sang a little song to each of them. Olivia wanted "Over the Rainbow", which I forgot half the words to. Thankfully, she doesn't know the whole song yet, and just sings along to the over the rainbow parts. Cole wanted a song about God, fitting because we did attend church today. Sadly, the only song I could think of on the spot about God was "O' Come all Ye Faithful". That is one of my favorite Christmas carols. So yeah....I guess I should brush up on my hymns.

Now, it's quiet in the house and I'm taking a few moments to write this little blog about our night. This is the point in the bedtime routine that is the adult time. Most nights, I could really use a drink when they are in bed. Today was actually a peaceful day. I can only pray the same for tomorrow, but I wouldn't hold my breath.

Wrongful birth lawsuit?? I want to sue you for being Wrongful parnets!

2012-03-21T11:49:00.000-05:00

I have been wanting to write a blog about this story since I first heard about it. But to be honest, I was entirely too angry. The whole story just makes me sick to my stomach. It makes me see red. And I know that some of you may not have heard about this story, but before I explain I have to get out how angry I am so that I may calmly (well as calmly as possible) explain the situation. It just makes me so mad I could spit. Okay. I think I'm ready.

There is a couple in the great state of Oregon who sued the hospital for the wrongful birth of their child. Their reasoning behind this lawsuit? Their child was born with Down Syndrome. They say that the only reason they continued with their pregnancy was because they were told that their child did not have Down Syndrome. (I'm sorry, I'm getting upset again. Please forgive the angry rant that may follow the continuing of this story.) They were not award the opportunity to terminate their pregnancy, which they would have done if they had known. The test that they had performed was on the wrong tissue, so it incorrectly told them that their child did not have Down Syndrome. In another article, it is said that the reason that the test came back negative was because of the type of Down Syndrome that the child had. The couple did not do an amniocentesis. Originally, the lawsuit was for $7 million. They were award $2.9 million for the care of their daughter over her lifetime.

Okay, now that I've got the case covered, I can elaborate on how this infuriates me. Anyone who knows anything about Down Syndrome, or knows someone with Down Syndrome knows that they are the most amazing people....Ever. They have the kindest hearts, the greatest sense of humor and just all-around amazing individuals. My little sister has Down Syndrome. I am aware that it's not always an easy road. Take the normal challenges of parenting, and multiply them by, I don't even know how many. It takes an amazing person to raise a child with Down Syndrome, and my sister is blessed to have two amazing parents in her life. This little girl, my heart breaks for her. She has two parents that publicly, nationally, admitted that they would have aborted her. I just want to go to Portland and scoop her up and be like, look you greedy bitches, you do not deserve this amazing child. You are so ungrateful for the gift that God has given you.

(I had to take a temporary break from this post to ground myself.)

While I can understand from the parents point of view the financial strain that this child brings, I am angered that they would feel that it's the hospital's financial responsibility. I understand that the hospital did not do the testing correctly. But every medical test is not 100% accurate. It's just not possible. How can you say that you love your child dearly, and then in the same breath, sue for not having the option to terminate that child?? How could that thought even come into your head? How you can even sit there, as a parent of 3 and say that you're upset that you didn't get the chance to terminate this pregnancy and you deserve to be given $3 million to take care this "burden"? You didn't get that chance....now is the time to get over it. Move on and figure out the best way to raise your family.

There is always a risk when having children that they may not turn out just the way you want. There is no way to guarantee that your child will be 100% healthy. There are so many things that can go wrong, and not be just "perfect". But does that make your child any less perfect to you? If your answer is anything other then no, then I don't know what to tell you. Creating life is not an easy process. Raising a child is even more difficult. Now this child is going to go through life being the little girl that her parents didn't want. Everyone knows her name. Everyone knows who her parents are. Everyone knows her story. Did her family ever think about the effect this would have on their child that they love so dearly? Just one more reason that I believe that this couple acted very selfishly. I'm sure there are people who feel differently, and perhaps can even understand where this couple is coming from. Not sure if I'll ever be one of them.

You’re going to be a star!

2012-02-23T10:12:00.000-06:00

As some of you know and have seen, my son is a singing sensation. I’m not going to brag or anything, but he’s pretty much amazing. He wrote a song, and let’s just say that he’s better at rapping then Lil’ Wayne. He writes his own lyrics. I’d like to see Lil’ Wheezy do that. Ha! But anyway, the story is that we were driving in the car to go to the craft store so that I could get some fabric, and he could get a cool little craft thing to do. (He picked this thing where you dig the stones out of rock, which is actually just a bath fizz thing and you can make a ring out of the gems you find.) On the way to the store, we were listening to the Kidz Bop Pandora radio station. At least it was current music, and I didn’t have to worry about them dropping the “B” word, the “F” bomb or other colorful language like that. On the down-size, I feel like I’m listening to a Barney soundtrack that occasionally plays the Chipmunks.

Anyway, Cole decided that he wanted to be on the radio too, because those other kids were doing it. I told him that he could make up songs if he wanted, and maybe one day he could be on the radio too. Well, he then proceeded to sing the most amazing song…..ever. It was about 15 minutes long. It included some very random things, that didn’t exactly make radio gold, but was still basically AMAZING. After a while he got into a groove of things and got his flow down. He started to find his rhythm. Then, “Shake it Girl” was born.

Some of you have seen this amazing song. Some of you sing it in your head, because it gets stuck in your head. I know it gets stuck in mine. It’s a catchy little ditty. I did what any parent would have done; I pointed my camera in the back and hoped for the best. What I captured, was just purely amazing. I can’t say that enough .It was priceless. It was gold! It’s just something I have to post for your viewing pleasure. I’m in school right now and I ‘m not sure if this is going to post right, but I am going to try anyway. I hope you can all see it. Enjoy!

Cole Says Shake It Girl

Happy Valentine's Day. If you really care.

2012-02-14T07:59:00.000-06:00

Yeah yeah yeah, Happy Valentine's Day and all that jazz. Meh. I'm not that big into Valentines Day personally. I mean, I did buy Cole and Livi and Brock a little something for Valentine's Day. A little chocolate that I'll probably have sneak a little of. Some mushy cards. And then the card that said, "If we were in prison, I'd totally have your back. I'd shiv anyone who disrespected you." I couldn't pass a romantic gem like that up. When you see a card like that, you just have to get it. For example, I have a birthday card that some lucky person is going to get, I just haven't decided who. It says, "Happy Birthday, I'll see you in Hell." Now you see why I can't just give it to anyone. It has to be the right person.

Back to Valentine's Day. Cole didn't want to go to school today because he didn't think that he had Valentines for his class. I am a procrastinator. I waited until last night to buy Valentines. And of course, Target was cleaned out. Cole has 32 kids in his class....that's just crazy. 32 kindergartners. How does his teacher maintain her sanity??? Cause I sure would loose it. I found one box that had exactly 32 valentines in it. Jackpot! (It was pixie sticks too. Oops, they are going to be a group of jacked up on pure sugar 32 kindergartners.)

Then I go home to look at the list of names of students. I really couldn't help myself. I laughed. Really hard. Then I called my mom. And we both laughed really hard. What are people thinking when they name their children??? One little boy's name was Sha'dream. No joke. Then there Jakiy. (Not even sure how to begin to pronounce that. I'm assuming it's JK. Like, 'I had a girl! JK it's a boy.) The list goes on and on. I just feel bad for those kids. Those are some crazy crazy names, and their parents set them up for a life of teasing and mispronunciation. Poor kids. I guess sha'dreamt about it and that's the name she came up with. JK.

I think I'm a communist.....

2012-02-10T12:05:00.001-06:00

We took a little road trip today to Charlottesville today (this is my first attempt at mobile blogging). On the way up here, we stopped for drinks and snacks. Brock came back to the car with a cheese danish and twinkies. The danish was for me and the twinkies for Livi.

After Brock gave Livi the first Twinkie, he asked her if she liked it. Of course she did. She looked like a chipmunk with all that yumminess in her cheeks. I proceeded to tell Brock that anyone who didnt like Twinkies was un-american. Damn Commies. Olivia got half way through the second one when she got full. So, I had to take one for the team and finish it.

Thats when I realized that I had to be a communist.

Crayons are a privilege, not a right

2012-02-09T19:15:00.001-06:00

Saturday, we had a birthday party for my son. He just turned 6. (On a side note, I feel really old.) But yes, his birthday was on a Tuesday this year, so we had the party Saturday. He was super excited to have cake, and his new scooter and hang out with his homies. And of course, Livi is really jealous. She doesn't understand the concept of birthdays, and presents and why she doesn't get any presents. It's also really hard for her to understand time right now, and how long it is until her birthday. Cole, who barely earned back his birthday party due to a choking his sister out for a cape incident, was very well behaved. Olivia.....not so much.

She spent most of her day in and out of time out. In the corner, out of the corner. Taking naps, being awake. No tv, then watching cartoons. It was a back and forth battle all day long. Finally, at the end of the night, she had to sit at her desk, and not play. Well, little did we know, that there were crayons at her desk. Thinking that she's sitting at her desk quietly, we let her get up and play a little before bed. So I go upstairs to tuck her in for the night, and low and behold what we see at her desk, a beautiful art picture. On her desk. Great.

Needless to say, Olivia lost her crayon privileges. I should also mention that she tried to draw on the curtains as well, because they were in front of the desk. If she could have reached the walls, I'm sure that would have been tagged too.

Note to self: Keep Olivia away from spray cans when she is a teenager.

Homework. Who is it REALLY torturing? I mean teaching?

2012-01-30T08:09:00.000-06:00

It's Monday morning. This means the beginning of a new week. Which means that Cole is going to have a whole new weeks worth of homework. This is kindergarten. So that means that he can't read the assignment on his own, which means that he'll need help. I don't want you to get me wrong, I completely believe that parents should be involved in their children's education, and that it's not completely the responsibility of the teacher to help them learn. I do, however, believe that it is not easy. Helping Cole with his homework is exhausting. It's stressful. It makes me want to scream and yell at him and get really angry.

Patience is a necessity of teaching. This is why I changed my major. I do not have that kind of patience. Especially with my own kids. I think it's because I know how smart he is. I know, from speaking with his teachers, that he knows this material. He just gets lazy when it comes time for homework. He starts to goof off and play with the pencil. He guesses the answers without even looking at the question. I don't want to be doing this either buddy, but help me out here! When is he going to understand that the time he spends not doing his homework is time he could be playing with his legos, or watching a movie or whatever it is he wanted to be doing instead of homework??

I wish I knew a way to get him to focus more. I wish I knew how to get him to enjoy his homework. Okay, I almost said that with a straight face! No one enjoys homework. Well, I used to. I remember being in first grade and asking my brother's teacher for homework because my teacher didn't really give us any. Obviously, he didn't inherit that from me, or at least not yet. I think he's just bored. This stuff is boring. I mean, how many times can you count to 100 before you get tired of doing it? I'm not saying it's not important, but really? I'm running out of ideas to make counting fun. And obviously, what I had come up with before wasn't all that fun because it would take us 2 hours to do it!!

Homework sucks, no matter what grade you're in. Honestly, I can't wait for him to learn to read so I can tell him to do his homework, and then help him when he's stuck. I know he hates me hovering over him while he does it now. I'm not such a fan of it myself. But at least I understand the assignments now, one day, I will not have a freakin clue what they are talking about. At least then, he'll be able to read so he can google it.

I am a paranoid parent. At least I own it.

2012-01-23T08:18:00.000-06:00

As many of you know, I am a paranoid parent. As many of you also know, we are getting ready to move to Alabama! I'm super excited about and totally fell in love with the area when I went to visit it. The people are amazing. The state is beautiful. There is so much to do there and it's a very family friendly state. I'm excited to go to the lakes, to see the science museum that Brock keeps talking about, to get Cole into football so he can go to college and play for the Tide. Now, I try to be a realist. What I'm not excited about.....the heat, the jokes I've already started to get from my family about moving to Alabama (thanks Dave) and the tornadoes.
My friends in Virginia, and the friends and family who heard about my antics, will remember when all of those tornadoes came through Virginia last year. I was freaking out. Anyone who mentioned the "T" word about got bitch slapped for scaring the crap out of me. I was constantly watching the sky. I asked everyone I talked to if they thought that was a wall cloud. At work, I had a quickest route to the walk-in mapped out in my head at all times. I didn't have the be the fastest there, but as long as my fat ass could squeeze in there, I'd be ok. I would have nightmares about it ripping the roof off of my home. I wanted the kids to sleep downstairs, and even went so far as to suggest that we all sleep in the bathroom that night.
I began to stockpile things in the bathroom. Pillows, blankets, a flashlight. Pretty basic things that sound completely normal right? Then I started to get a little carried away. I put a bra in there, because what if the tornado hit in the middle of the night and swept all my bras away? What am I suppose to do, walk around with my boobs flopping around until I find my bras in a tree somewhere? No thank you. I wanted to put some food in there, but Brock wouldn't let me. Of course not, because while I would be in the bathroom with the kids, his plan was to hide in the pantry. Logically, this makes sense, because if one of us was buried, the other one could get us out. I, however, was not being logical. I was being paranoid. Like I said, at least I own it.
Everyone is aware of the horrific tornadoes that have hit Alabama and the damage that they have done. Just early this morning, another tornado had gone through Alabama and did some damage to homes of Brock's friends. This just increases my anxiety about it. Just last night Brock and I were discussing the up-coming move and what we would need to have in the home. I understand that there are radios that are just for weather advisories and warnings. I'm scared I won't hear the sirens, so I told Brock that we will be getting one of these radios. Actually, I told him that we needed at least two. He laughed at me. I wasn't kidding. In fact, I would feel so much better if everyone just carried one around with them everywhere they went, a'la the 80's boombox. That might help with my anxiety. But probably not.
We did however, come up with a great idea for an app. It's basically a tornado siren for your phone. It would go off loudly, regardless if the phone were on silent and alert you immediately that there is a tornado in the area or if there is a warning. I would PAY for that, and I don't pay for any apps. I wouldn't even get the free version that would only tell you if there was an actual touchdown. I want to know if there is a freaking cloud in the sky. If the wind is over 3 mph. If there is a cow flying in the sky. Hey, I saw Twister, I know how this goes. Maybe one day, I'll adjust to the life of having tornadoes. Maybe it will just stop bothering me. Maybe I'll turn into a big black opera singer. Yeah, I don't see any of those things happening.

Coffee...a necessity of Parenting. In my opinion anyway.

2012-01-13T07:24:00.000-06:00

After taking my little monster to school today, I came home to enjoy the quiet that is still my house at 8 in the morning. Livi is watching cartoons and probably fell back asleep and my boyfriend is still snoozing. I use this time to either catch up on my girly shows that he won't watch with me, doing some blogging, surfing online or like today, find a new crafty thing to work on. I love to make stuff. I'm all about immediate gratification. I want to see what I am doing, and being crafty lets me do that. I can see my progress and I love when I'm out somewhere with something I have made and people ask me where I got it.
One of the wonderful gifts we got for Christmas this year was a Keurig machine. This is just the greatest invention since, well, I'm not really sure because right now it's the best thing ever to me. I can make just one cup of coffee and not have to worry about making a whole pot and not being sure if it will still be hot when I decide I want another cup. I don't know if Brock will want a cup. But I know I do! This cup of coffee (and perhaps another one) will get me through today. I have an exciting day of laundry, knitting and grocery shopping planned. With all of that thrilling activity, I bet your wondering why I would even need coffee to get through it. I know, I wonder that myself. I'm going to tell you a little bit why....
I had enrolled my daughter in a little dance/gym class once a week. This cost about $62 a month. That seems a bit steep for something only she can enjoy. So we started to look into different classes, and perhaps a gym membership for all of us that has lots of activities for the kids and we can get in on the action too. Well, we found a great gym and if we were going to be in the area longer, I would totally join. For under $100, all four of us can use the gym. I'm talking classes, pool, machines, treadmills with individual tvs on them. This gym is nice! But seeing as it's a little pricey for just 4 months, and you have to pay $100 to break the contract when you move, it's just not practical. But we did get a free week to try it out. Well, last night, I got a great idea to try out the Body Combat class. It combines lots of different fighting techniques, and it is intense. Probably one of the best workouts I've had in quite some time. But today.........today I'm sore. I'm tired. And I'm hoping they have a yoga class I can go to today to stretch it all out! But it's all good. I have my coffee. I have a new pattern to knit. I have a quiet house for maybe 20 more minutes. Today is going to be a good day. I can just tell. Man, the power of a Keurig.

Bullying, is it a necessary evil?

2012-01-11T08:09:00.000-06:00

Everywhere you turn now-a-days, there is a news story about a young child committing suicide or going on a mass rampage due to being bullied. Just this past weekend, there was an incident in my little ole hometown of Merrimack, NH of an 11 year old girl shooting herself, allegedly due to being bullied. (Read the article here, if you care to Police probe shooting of 11-year-old girl) This really made it hit home for me. Not because I knew the family, which even though it's a small town, I did not, but because it was my hometown. My little town that people don't have to lock their doors and when I was in school bullying did not seem this big of a thing. So of course, I feel the need to talk about it in my true fashion, saying exactly how I feel and what some of us are thinking, but are too afraid to offend someone to say.
It really got me thinking about why it is now that children and teenagers can't seem to cope with bullying anymore. I realize now that teenagers are much more vicious with their teasing. There is facebook to hide behind and bully like a true coward. Teens take social media so seriously that what better way to make someone's life a living hell then to torment them via facebook? The ultimate slap in the face. Twitter, Four Square and whatever other media outlet there is to put people's business, real or made up, on blast makes for the best kind of anonymous torture. Movies like Mean Girls, and shows like Degrassi or Secret Circle or whatever other CW drama is out there is showing teenage girls that being the mean girl is hot, sexy, powerful. This is what we are allowing our children to grow up watching and emulating. So who's fault is it again that our children act the way that they do?
But what is the beginning cause of all of this? What is it that makes our children not know how to handle this kind of rejection from their peers? What makes our children feel that it's okay to treat people like that? My opinion? US. We as parents and as a society do. So much has changed over the last 10-15 years that it kinda blows my mind. It starts when kids are toddlers, around my kids age.We can't spank our kids anymore, that's just mean. So no discipline or respect for authority there. There are no try-outs anymore, everyone makes the team. So no rejection there. Everyone gets a trophy, so no one feels like a loser. What's the motivation to win again? Why try hard if you're going to get a reward anyway? They never had to deal with loss or rejection because we wanted to shelter them from that kind of hurt. Honorable, surely. But that kind of feeling is necessary. They need to lose, they need to not make the team. Maybe you agree, maybe you don't. But think about it. Because they have never had to deal with those emotions before, when they experience them at an older age, they have no idea what to do with them. It's overwhelming. They can't process it. Because we denied them that experience growing up. It's a crucial part of their development process. I'm not a doctor, or a psychologist, I'm just making my observation.
As far as the bullies go, we allow that behavior to continue as well. Our teenagers are running around completely unchecked. They have free reign of the internet, of cell phones, with no supervision. The pictures that these girls post of themselves in very adult like poses and clothing, make me sick. They are not grown, and I don't care what they think about themselves. Everyone says "my kid would never be allowed to do that" but the truth about it is that they are. We have lost the power at some point in the transition to teenager. Parents are just letting their kids run wild, not keeping track of what they are doing, what they are posting online, where they are going. We are too busy working, or doing our own thing. It's still our job to raise these teenagers. This is an important age that they really still need guidance. You can't just throw them to the wolves and say "I raised them right, they know better. I'm sure they will make the right choices." While that is true with somethings, they still need to know what is acceptable behavior and what's not. They still need consequences for their actions. These bullies are just getting away with it over and over again, leaving these victims of bullying to have to deal with the increased power they feel from getting away with their actions.
Maybe if we spanked our children more, grounded them more, kept closer tabs on them it would help with this issue. Maybe we just need to take the power back and parent our children again. Call me old-fashion, but I obviously agree with spanking. My children are respectful, say yes ma'am, no sir, please and thank you. And when they aren't, better believe that they are reminded to be so. It is my job to make them into well rounded adults that can function in the world. It's not my job to be their friend. It's not my job to hold their hand and make them think the world is sunshine and roses because it's not. They aren't going to get that job, they aren't going to make the college team, they aren't going to stay with that person forever and those feelings are natural and are going to happen. So we have a choice as parents. Do we prepare them for those rejections, losses, hurts in a gradual way that allows them to figure out coping techniques or do we shelter them from it and let them all hit them at once and they can't handle it? I vote for the first option. What do you think??

"You're a mean mommy!"

2011-12-13T07:15:00.001-06:00

Oh the joys of what our children tell us. Isn't it just so great to appreciated for all the things that we do for them? The food we put on the table? The hard work we do all day so that we'll have money to buy them that new toy they just have to have that they will be bored of in 10 minutes? The clothes they are wearing? Do they even understand the lengths we go through to try to make them a well-rounded person? The answer to that is not just no, but hell no. These little jerks are already thinking about the next thing that they have to have. Or how I didn't give them what they really wanted. Jerks.

Today started out as any normal morning would. I hear my alarm clock and of course reset it for 15 minutes later. Then I finally drag my ass out of bed and get Cole up. I pick out clothes and pray that he hasn't grown another 3 inches in the middle of the night and that his pants will actually still fit him. (That reminds, I forgot to actually look at his pants when he came downstairs, I hope that he's not going to look like Noah today.) Of course, once Livi hears us, then she needs to get up too. I bring her downstairs while Cole gets dressed in hopefully some well fitting pants. (Sidenote: The thing that makes me so mad, is that I just bought those pants like 3 months ago, and they were big when I bought them. I have freakishly large children.) I get them both a bowl of cereal and get started making his lunch for school. This isn't just any bowl of cereal, no. This is Cinnamon Toast Crunch, well the generic version anyway. This is plain ole Cheerios. I'm not asking them to eat something healthy like Grape Nuts. Come on!

Cole comes downstairs and is devastated, and I mean devastated that I could even THINK to ask him to eat this food, even though it's what he ate yesterday like it was his favorite. He had gotten it in his head that I would make waffles. I never said that I would do that. We don't even have waffles right now. After seeing him so upset and heartbroken over the cereal that I put in front of him, I did what any normal mother would do. I made him eat it. I made him eat the whole bowl. I'm heartless aren't I?

Then I proceeded to make his lunch for school. Realizing that, yes I forgot to get bread again last night while I was out, I had to figure out how I was going to make him something for lunch. I had all the sides, the yogurt, the baked cheetos, the kool-aid little drink bottle. But crap, what am I suppose to do for the sandwich part? Well, Cole is now going to be that kid that has a peanut butter and jelly on a hot dog bun. Sorry kid. Mommy needs to go to the store. Maybe I'll get some waffles while I'm there.

Sorry for the break....

2011-12-09T11:07:00.000-06:00

After completing about two months of homework, seeing as finals are next week and today was the final day I could turn in my homework (I like to procrastinate....which is funny, that was the topic of one of the papers), I realized that I hadn't posted a blog post in quite sometime. I know for all of my followers,( they're are 8 of you now! OH yeah!!! Go me! Okay, so I think one of you is on there twice, but I don't care. Let me have my glory.) you've been missing out my daily dose of sarcasm and wit.

I feel like I owe you an explanation for my absence. Well, we already figured out it's not because I was doing homework. My grandfather recently passed away, and I haven't been able to bring myself to write. I just felt like that would be all I would write about. That's not really about parenting or my kids or anything like that. But it was how I was feeling, so I guess that's part of the reason I didn't write. The other part is that I'm kinda lazy. And I work a lot. So when I come home, it was just too much to think about writing and what I would write about. There was homework not to do and laundry to actually do and kids to play with. I got a bit overwhelmed. Which is in part, why I created this blog in the first place. To have an outlet for when I was feeling overwhelmed, and to show other moms that it happens to all of us.

So yeah, I am in school now full time and I'm about to change my major to business. Which means, a lot more work. Well, the program is the same length as the other one I was in, so I don't really know if it's going to be more work. Just different I guess. I didn't think that it would be that big of a deal to work full time and go to school full time and be with the kids. But it is. It's a lot harder of everyone involved. In a way, it makes me want to just post-pone it until everything dies down, but who knows when that would be?? Probably never. Maybe when the kids graduate from high school. Do I really want to wait that long?? Livi isn't even preschool yet!!! So no, that's not really an option. It's just a lot of hard work, and I guess I wasn't really prepared for the road it was going to take me down.

All in all, the kids are doing good. Cole learned how to tie his own shoes. Which is crazy to me. When I do his homework with him, he know how to write so much now. It blows my mind everyday the things that he is learning how to do at school. I knew that someday, he would learn how to do all of these things. But it's so different when they actually do it.

I know that there are a lot of people out there who have lost people close to them. The grieving process is different for everyone. Losing my Grampy isn't something that I've really come to terms with yet. I don't really know how to process it. I had already lost my Mimi, but Grampy was still there. I could still go to that house and see him. You could always count on Christmas Eve being held there, the Fourth of July cookout in the backyard. And even though he hadn't done the blue Christmas lights in a long time, it was still something I'll always remember. Now these things, even though most of them are things that I haven't been able to go to in quite sometime, aren't going to happen anymore. Maybe someone else in the family will pick up the traditions. Maybe they'll just fade away. I don't know what the future holds. I just know that it's very bittersweet. As are so many other things. Sorry for the Debby-downer mood of this. It's just how it feels right now.

Kids say the darnest things.....

2011-11-05T21:01:00.000-05:00

So today, as many other days, Livi said something to me that just cracked me up, which of course got me to thinking about all the crazy things my kids say to me on a daily basis. I sometimes post them on facebook, but there are some that just don't make it on there. Mainly because I don't want to be "that" guy clogging up everyone's feed with every little thing that my kids say that I deem adorable, because, let's face it, everything they say is adorable. I figure that I'll share some of it with you guys here.
Today, Olivia told me, in all seriousness, (and in fact, with quite the dirty look and attitude) 'Mommy, I farted. I farted mommy.' And when I asked her, 'what do you say?' she replied, 'not excuse me'. She then proceeded to give me a look that said, 'I dare you to ask me to say excuse me.' This is not the first time my three year old lady has talked about farting. While we were returning from New Hampshire via airplane, in the middle of our descent she announces to the entire plan, 'ewwww! Something smells yuck! You farted mommy! That's gross, say excuse me!' To which of course I replied, 'no I didn't! Be quiet!' (Really though, I didn't. But even if I had, I still would have said that I didn't. It's none of their damn business.) Then she laughed and said 'I know. I farted. I farted mommy. hehehe.' I mean really? Did she need to announce it to the plane? I don't think they smelt it.
Not to leave Cole out, because Lord knows he says some crazy things. First off, he always calls the Florida Gators the Crocs. Okay, not knee slapping material, but we're watching college football, so it was on my mind. One time, about a year ago, he spent about two hours telling me about his three girlfriends (he was 4 at the time), one white, one brown and one yellow. This kid is quite the lady's man. He hits on every waitress we've ever had, and his favorite thing to call them is cupcake. He's just so darn cute. Today, we're having a get together to watch the Alabama vs LSU game and one of Brock's friends is a LSU fan. And when Cole had asked him what team he liked, to which he replied 'LSU', Cole said 'oh' with such disappointment, we all busted out laughing. Cole of course, didn't understand what was so funny.
One day, Cole said to me, with as much seriousness as a 5 year old can muster, 'Mom, I have to tell you something that I should have told you a long time ago. I am a power ninja. I have lost my powers and I have to get new ones.' What can you say to that? I had to reply in a way that didn't bust out laughing in his precious little face, so I said the only thing I could. 'Oh. Okay.'
I love my kids. They crack me up, and they keep me on my toes. They make me laugh even when they aren't meaning too. Perhaps even harder when they don't mean too. Like when I'm scolding Livi and she starts crying and telling me I broke her heart. It's so funny, cause she says it with such feeling. Then, it kinda makes me sad, but still, that crap is funny. What kind of crazy shit do your kids say?

Discipline, who does it really hurt more?

2011-10-17T19:28:00.000-05:00

Wow, it's been a minute since I've posted anything on here. Life has been super crazy. I have gone back to school full time, I still work full time and of course the kids, the boyfriend and house and all that banana goodness that comes along with life! Needless to say, I'm tired. Running on fumes I'd even go so far as to say. But this isn't about how tired I am. This is about discipline. There are so many different views now a days regarding discipline. Do you stand on the spanking side of the fence or the side of the fence that has a kinder, gentler way? Personally, I stand on the spanking side. Maybe you agree. Maybe you don't. Either way, that doesn't change my stance. I was spanked as a child. I can tell you that I learned lessons. I learned respect and that my parents meant business. Maybe you can teach those things without a good butt whooping, but let me tell you, that butt whooping works.

Now, I don't want you to think that I beat my kids black and blue. That's just too far. I don't hit them with a closed fist either. I spank them on their bottoms. Open handed. Or once (and it only took one time) with a wooden spoon. Now all it takes is the threat of getting the spoon to get my point across. Does this make me a bad parent because I use physical discipline? Have times really changed that much from when we were growing up that spanking our children is no longer acceptable? If the warnings and the time outs have not gotten the point across, I think that a spanking is perfectly fitting. Children need boundries. They need to know that we are the parents. We are not their best friends. Like my own friend told her kids (and now I tell mine) when they said "I hate you", she would say "Good, I'm doing my job". Our kids aren't suppose to like us. They are suppose to respect us. It's our jobs to teach them the correct way to behave in the world. We are shaping the future adults of our world. Or even better, the future teenagers. Do you like the way these teenagers walk around? Maybe if they got a wooden spoon across their ass every now and then, things would be different. Who knows?

I love my children. I love them enough to not let them act like crazy people in public and think that they will get away with it. You want to throw a fit in the middle of a restaurant? Let's go to the car and straighten out your thought process. I do not want my kids to be that guy who grows up and has no idea how he is suppose to behave in public and expects everyone to do everything for them. Ungrateful for the life they have and the things that have been provided to them. But still, it's hard to follow through. When I have to be the tough guy and spank them, put them in time out or ground them from tv or whatever they seem to be into at the time, it's hard. Livi told me today "you broke my heart, now I have no heart". This was after a serious spanking after drinking some "lost my mind juice" and not listening or behaving all afternoon. (Where she got that juice, I'd like to know so I can discipline whoever gave it to her!) I know she was tired. But is that really an excuse? Do you really let your kid go batshit crazy just because they are tired? 'Oh it's cool baby, just throw your fries all over the place cause you wanted a burger instead of chicken nuggets. I know you tired, that's ok.' What are we teaching our children if we allow that behavior? That as long as you have an excuse you can do whatever you want? I don't think so. Not in my house. And you can say "I don't love you, I hate you, You don't love me" all day long. It doesn't matter. I love you and that's why I discipline you. But when their behinds stop hurting in about 10 minutes, my heart will still hurt from my little baby saying those things. I guess that's why we say, "this will hurt me more then it will hurt you."

What my kids don't know about me yet, but may one day figure out!

2011-09-20T15:44:00.000-05:00

While perusing the expansive internet and reading other articles that moms have written, I came across an article called "10 Things My Kids Would Be Surprised To Learn about Their Mom" (here's the link to that 10 things). This made me think about all the things the kids don't know about me yet. Let's see what I can come up with!
1. I once got really drunk in Russia and rode a horse down the beach.
2. I'm not physic. I just know them, and what kind of trouble they are capable of. I also have gotten pretty good at figuring out the different thud sounds that come from upstairs.
3. I am not a morning person. I hate getting up that early in the morning and I wish that they didn't get up that early.
4. I think Star Wars is boring, sorry Cole. I can't watch it. I don't really want to hear about, but I pretend to love it because you think it's so cool.
5. I know that you guys think laundry is really fascinating. I feel like I don't even need to finish this thought, because you know where I'm going with it.
6. I love love love all the trashy reality tv that I would never ever let you watch.
7. Pizza every night is not a good dinner plan. Although right now, I'm starving and that sounds great.
8. Dessert is my favorite meal. Yes, I called it a meal. If it's the right kind of dessert, it could be a meal.
9. I love musicals. Movies, plays and all that. I love to sing along with them. And I don't really care if it's embarrassing. In fact, as they get older, it might add to the entertainment factor.
10. As much I tell them to put on their shoes, I hate wearing them. I never wore shoes growing up. I even graduated high school barefoot.

There are many more things about me that they don't know. More things then I could think about. Feel free to share some of your own little tidbits.

Mommy Guilt Explored

2011-09-17T20:13:00.000-05:00

Every mother experiences mommy guilt at one point or another. Whether a mom decides to stay home or go back to work, the guilt is there. Seeing as I have done both, I feel like I can speak of both, from my point of view of course. First I'll talk about staying home. I stayed home for a year with both of my children, which I'm grateful for, I know that sometimes it feels like I don't appreciate the time that I got to spend with them, but that guilt is to be saved for later in the conversation. While I stayed home with Cole and Olivia, while I did love being able to spend time with them while they grew up and had all their firsts, I found that I really missed my job. I missed working and contributing financially and just having that fulfillment that comes with working. And I'm sure that some of you will think that I should have gotten that fulfillment from my children, and I do! I loved watching them grow and experiencing all the first's. It's kind of a vicious cycle of guilt. First it starts out with something innocent like 'man, I miss adult conversations.' Then it graduates to, 'When I was working I used to have so much fun there' (even if you hated your job at the time). Then you catch yourself wishing you could go back to work and start to feel terrible about it. How could you possibly want to leave your precious little baby? Maybe because you're tired of getting puked, peed, pooped on all day. Sick to death of Dora the explorer (where are her parents by the way? And why is she allowed to wander around the jungle all day? And don't even get me started on Diego who teaches little kids to hug jaguars!). You've lost yourself in the everyday shuffle of momhood. The daily routine of diapers, feedings, nap, picking up toys, lunch, picking up toys, naps, dinner, picking up toys and so on and so forth. You, if you're anything like I was, start to feel like 'why should I pick up the toys for the 15th time? You're just going to make a mess in 36 seconds anyway!' Until of course you trip and about break your neck on one of those stupid toys and then you're cursing yourself for not picking it up.
Staying at home and wishing you were somewhere, anywhere else is enough to make any mom feel guilty. It's just that sometimes you need to get away. Sometimes, you need a break. We push ourselves so hard all the time, and sometimes, you just need to sit your fat ass on the couch and watch lame reality tv and let the laundry sit there for 15 minutes. It's not going anywhere, it's not hurting anyone or anything, but I might if I don't get to take a breather for a second! Then of course, my mind starts to beat me up. Why am I not playing with the kids all day? Why am I not a better housewife? (Well, technically now it would be house-girlfriend.) If I don't stop that thought process in it's tracks, then I'll be a hot mess in about 4 minutes. I could only take being at home for so long before I had to go back to work. I just had to. Think what you want about me, I'm woman enough to admit I'm no Betty Crocker.
So that brings me to the guilt that comes with going back to work. I decided to go back to work after Cole had his first birthday. Olivia was about a year and half when I went back to work. It would have been sooner had I not lived in the middle of nowhere previously. After the divorce, I didn't have a choice but to go back to work. But that's a whole separate blog post! Anyway, with each of them the guilt was the same. Even though with Olivia, I knew that I would eventually need to go back to work, it was still hard. I feel terrible that someone else is teaching my children to do things. I feel terrible that sometimes, I'm not there to put them to bed. I'm lucky enough now to have a job where I can be there in the mornings to get them ready for school, but sometimes I have to stay late, so I'm not always there for bedtime. I know deep down, that this is what I have to do to help support them and give them the life that I want them to have. It doesn't stop me from feeling guilty that I'm not with them all the time. It's not really possible though. At some point, I have to let go and let them go to school and learn and be independent and blah blah blah. That day is not today though. Today, they are still my little babies and I just want to be there for everything. I want to be the one to calm them down when their having a fit, the one to discipline them, the one to tuck them in every night after they do their homework. The reality is that you can't always be there. I can't always be there to do all of those things. And if I stayed home, I wouldn't be able to afford a house to put them to bed in. I wouldn't really be happy anyway. I understand that I need more from myself. Plus I hate to cook....and clean.....and everything else that comes with a stay at home mom. I'm working on the guilt factor, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't ever go away. It's just going to be different things to feel guilty about. Like, man, I feel terrible I just embarrassed them in front of all their friends like that. Or I can't believe I told Cole's first girlfriend about the time he peed off the front porch in front of the whole neighborhood. I just feel awful. At least there is hope that someday, I get to enjoy that guilt. Even if it's just a little.