Must Love Tots

Gap-Tooth Here We Come

2009-12-14T09:35:00.000-06:00

Daelyn has her first loose tooth. Cousins her age have already lost their first. Her best friend has lost two. She was beginning to wonder when her time would come. I told her to be patient as I secretly hoped I would have another year with her precious baby teeth in her mouth.

But it happened. One of her bottom teeth is loose. And it's getting looser.

She's happy.

I'm torn.

I'm excited for her and her happiness. But I'm not ready for a gap-toothed smile. I realize it was bound to happen. But I'm not ready for big-girl teeth. I still want the baby teeth and everything they stand for. Daelyn as a baby.

It's another milestone for her. And for me. Is it okay to say that I'm not ready to be a tooth fairy yet?

I look forward to slipping into her room in the middle of the night and exchanging her tooth for whatever monetary denomination HH and I deem worthy. And I'll bask in her glow of discovery.

But I'm not ready to stash her precious teeth in her child memory box. I just want her stay my baby for just a little bit longer.

I realize that Daelyn losing her baby teeth does not mean the end of her being my baby. She always will be my baby.

But she's one step closer to a world that I'm not ready for her to enter.

Because I Don't Want to Forget

2009-12-13T21:18:00.004-06:00

Daelyn, last night at a Christmas party:
I'm having so much fun! I don't think I'll be able to sleep until the end of April!
She could hardly keep her eyes open on the way home.

****

The man was playing with Sophie pretending to punch her.
I told him to be careful so he didn't get hurt.
Right after I said that, he swung far right and hit my jewelry armoire.
He looked at me and said: YOU POWAGIZE WIGHT NOW!
As if I was the one who hit him.

I'm Still Here

2009-12-07T18:08:00.002-06:00

The last few weeks have sucked. I was in a funk, worrying about mom. You would think that the news that she gained 5 pounds and the chemo might possibly be working would snap me out of it. Well, it did. It just took a few days.

Anyways, I'm still here. We all are.

HH and I celebrated 4 years of marriage. He gave me the loveliest dozen pink roses. And he surprised me with them in Champaign at our Turkey day dinner. He truly is the best.

The tots have seen Santa twice already. Daelyn, the ever-observant, asked why the Santa at breakfast on Saturday looked different than the Santa from the week before. HH rescued the day by saying there is only one Santa but he mixes up his look to keep the kids guessing. Let's hope she doesn't see a black Santa soon. How do you explain a reverse Michael Jackson skin phenom?

This weekend is busy. Friday and Saturday day is BAKING Day with Christina and Tiffany. I'm so excited. Saturday night is the Funneman family Christmas party. Sunday afternoon is the Smith Christmas at our house. This all translates to I better get busy this week and get my house cleaned.

The man is sick. With strep throat. He had a 101.5 temp all morning. He was in a fetal position for 20 minutes this morning screaming that he hurt: his eyes, his face, his legs, etc. Scared.The.Shit.Out.Of.Me. He's on medicine now. Tomorrow he should be his usual monkey self.

The Christmas letters are out. 55 stamps later. And for the most part I just did aunts, uncles, and close family friends/cousins. I skipped over a bunch of people. I'm sorry. But, really, it gets expensive. Cards, paper, envelopes, STAMPS, my time...ugh.

Tomorrow I'll bemoan Daelyn's first loose tooth. I'm not ready for this.

Giving Thanks

2009-11-25T09:11:00.003-06:00

I'm thankful...

For my awesome HH. His unconditional support and unwavering love have been my light in the dark times.

For my momma. And her apparent super-sonic strength. And for just being her.

For my home. We have a roof over our heads when so many don't.

For my blog readers. Thank you.

For my friends. Near and far. You make me laugh, cry, and pee my pants. You rock. All of you.

For the dogs. Despite all the yelling I do at them, they really are special.

And for the tots. They are what my life is all about.

A Snickers and a Happy Clam

2009-11-24T18:47:00.004-06:00

I'm better today. Because mom is better. And perhaps because I ate. A frozen snickers no less. Not that that was the only thing to be consumed today.

And for totally random trains of thought:

Where did the saying "happy as a clam" come from? Not that I've ever met a clam, but they don't exactly seem to exude a pleasant disposition.

Put a pizza in the oven. The front label said the sausage was made from pork and beef. And the pepperoni from pork, beef, and chicken. That just seems wrong to me. When I think pepperoni, or sausage, I think pork. I don't think chicken. I believe I'll be eating cheese pizza tonight.

Hanging, by a thread perhaps, but hanging.

2009-11-23T16:09:00.003-06:00

I have no appetite. The thought of food makes me ill. I've given my last box of Girl Scout Cookies to the tots. I've never given them so much as a single GS cookie before. That's a testament to my disgust for food. And I have 3 frozen Snickers bars in the freezer. I can't even bear the thought of them without wanting to throw up. I'm not sick. Just deeply saddened.

I don't sleep at night. And I have difficulties napping. I toss and turn. Turn and toss some more.

For the first time in my life, I weigh more than momma. And I'm not a big person by any means. The biggest part of her leg, thigh included, is her knee. She has no butt. No muscle tone. No muscle. Just skin. And bones. She lost 7 pounds in the last 2 weeks.

For those of you who have asked, prayers and cards are the easiest way to help. If you still feel a need or desire to help, food is always good. Mom is not cooking. She hasn't cooked in I don't know how long. She can't stand that long. And the various smells of cooking make her sick. Mom has an insatiable sweet tooth right now with a penchant for no bake cookies, peanut butter cookies, and oatmeal cookies. She does not like chocolate chip cookies. Don't ask me about that, I don't get it either.

Last week my son ate marshmallows for breakfast. It wasn't intentional. But I have things on my mind other than my son's eating habits right now. Horrid I know. But as I said before, the thought of food makes me ill right now. When mom is sick I can't eat. Unhealthy, I realize. But it is what it is. I've been subsisting on the random bowl of soup and, when I can scrounge up enough loose change, Joe Sippers Smoothies. They are my crack and I am a fiend.

Brianne is coming in on Wednesday night. We are all getting together on Thursday for Thanksgiving. I don't know how long it has been since that has happened.

But I thank you for all you have done. The prayers and well-wishes have been incredible. I can't thank you enough.
***
This post has been double-posted at Stronger Than Cancer.

For Momma

2009-11-19T00:41:00.000-06:00

My mom's sick. As in sick with cancer. And incurable. She's fought for 3 years. 3 long, hard years. Time that has been a gift. As she continues her battle, I am asking for prayers (always) and for cards. I want her to know that so many more people are rooting and praying for than she realizes. A card to make her smile, to laugh, to fight. Thank you.

Marilyn Smith
16202 N 1680 St
Teutopolis, IL 62467

Unsure Where We're Headed

2009-11-18T18:07:00.000-06:00

As posted at Stronger Than Cancer:

I'm numb. And irate. And numb again. I can hardly talk to anyone. I want to scream. Yell. Throw things. Mom's cancer is growing. All of the tumors. In both lungs. Dr. Dy is not sure anything can be done. But, as a last resort, he is putting mom on a chemo that she has already been on. 2 years ago. In hopes that it might work again. He is also adding a medicine in with her chemo with the hope that it will help the chemo work. He is doubtful. Mom is in tears. We're all numb. And angry. We were grasping at straws trying to find something that could be done. But we're at the end of the road. At least medically speaking. Dr. Dy was wonderful and answered all of our questions and then some. Mom's shortness of breath is not due to sickness. It's due to the cancer. It's grown so much it's restricting her airways. Stents won't help. Surgery is not an option. I don't even have tears right now.

Would you see this person a second time?

2009-11-18T06:29:00.000-06:00

Weirdest license plate I ever saw, I saw on Monday.

UNIBROW

Yeah.

Imagine a first date and getting in the car and thinking "Wow, this person has a unibrow. Bad enough to proclaim on a daily basis to the world via their car."

Would there be a second date? Or no?

Why Mondays Suck.

2009-11-17T06:33:00.002-06:00

From 7:00 to 7:10 yesterday morning the following events happened:

7:00 - Walk into the kitchen to find a puddle of dog vomit.

7:01 - Scrubbing dog vomit off kitchen tile.

7:02 - Take Sophie & Gia out.

7:03 - Gia comes back. Sophie runs off.

7:04-7:08 - I'm outside. Hunting Sophie down. In my jammies. And boots. In the rain.

7:09 - Walk into the living room to find a FRESH puddle of dog vomit. On the freshly cleaned couch. Thank you Gia.

7:10 - I'm scrubbing dog vomit off the couch.

And the night wasn't much better.
Let the dogs out.
Sophie stepped in dog poop outside.
Before I had a chance to clean her paw she tracked it all over the house. The living room. Porch. Kitchen. Computer Area. Daelyn's room.

There are some days you should stay in bed. And there are some days you should stay in bed with a bottle of wine. Never setting a foot on the floor.
Except to pee.

The Reason for 2

2009-11-16T16:04:00.004-06:00

Last night Daelyn came creeping out of her room not long after laying down. She was scared. I told her she could go ahead and crawl in bed with her brother.

As the door opened, the man looked up and asked: "Dae Dae you sleep in my bed?"
Dae "Yea, I'm scared. I don't want to sleep in my bed by myself."
Man "It's okay, you sleep here. I protect you."

And with that she crawled in his bed. He lifted up the covers so she could get in. He covered her up. She rolled over to sleep. And the man put his arms around her. To protect her. From nightmares. From the world.

A Simple Request

2009-11-13T00:01:00.001-06:00

Diana Harrison Biorkman has a 5-year old son in his last stages of a 2 1/2 year battle with Neuroblastoma Cancer. They are celebrating Christmas NEXT WEEKEND and Noah loves Christmas cards. Please send a card to: Noah Biorkman 1141 Fountain View Circle, South Lyon, MI 48178. Thank you so much and PLEASE REPOST on your blog or FaceBook. Lets get him a truckload of cards! Thank you!

Dear Family

2009-11-12T00:01:00.000-06:00

Dear Daelyn,

To answer your question, Yes, I have pooped green. I am quite sure everyone has at some point in time. Even the Queen of England. Yes, there is a real life Queen. But she's ancient (no offense Your Majesty). Check out her grandsons when you are of a decent age. But perhaps then you'll be looking at her great-grandsons. I digress.

Anyways, you are still required to eat your green veggies. Green beans. Broccoli. I don't do peas so you have no worries there. And I won't ply you with asparagus after the last time when it ended on my wall. So really, the green veggies we eat, you like. No big deal.
And to answer your second question, it really is kinda gross.

Signed,

Everyone Poops
Including Momma

***

Dear Man,

Is it even possible to keep up with you? Is there a reason I even attempt to clean my house? You got 2 baths yesterday. The second one was the normal bath/bed thing. The first? Before noon? That was because you were shoving fistfuls of chocolate powder into your mouth. And drooling afterwards. I do apologize if I was less than thrilled. But leaving a mound of chocolate powder on the couch is just not cool. I don't much care for it on the floor. Or a chocolate hand print on my wall.

As for the macaroni noodles? I told you not to touch the box. You touched the box. The box fell over. Macaroni went all over the floor. I don't like stepping on uncooked noodles as I'm trying not to burn the stroganoff.

And a note about Monday's paint job. You.can.not.paint.dogs.with.food.products. And please not with the applesauce or ketchup. Was it really necessary? Yes, I know, I saw that Sophie thought it was great that she could just lick her side and get a 2fer1 taste. But let's not do that again, okay?

Signed,

Tired of Cleaning Only to do It Again

Momma

***
Dear HH,

I am sorry about the night a few weeks ago when I yelled at you in my sleep. I realize as I'm fully awake that you only left me sleeping on the couch because I was doing just that. Sleeping. And we both know I don't do that well enough anyways. I didn't consciously realize that I was yelling at you about allowing me to fall asleep first. About your snoring. And whatever else it was that I kept going on and on about. I plead the fifth. I have absolutely no clue what I was doing. I just remember waking up in daze on the couch and stumbling to bed. I am sorry for getting all b*tchy on you. In my sleep. Next time, I'll do it while I'm wide awake ;)

Signed,

Well-rested

SIBB

***

Dear Sophie,

Is there anything you don't eat? Just curious.

Signed,

Missing 1 or 43 socks

Momma

***

Dear Gia,

When did you get all grouchy? You're worse than Oscar. Is it old age? Is it Sophie? The tots? Or has that always been your disposition and I just never noticed?

Signed,

Tired of the lip

Momma

***

Dear Pappy,

Daelyn is not happy. My hubby wasn't thrilled either. It's called saying "Thank You" when someone else rakes most of your lawn. I realize Dae girl probably wasn't much help but she's 5. And small for her age. She did the best she could. But I saw my HH raking. My man works. And hard. I'm just sayin.

Signed,

I live with these people

Bonz

***

Dear Momma,

I'm sorry you are sick. I hope you get well soon.

Signed,

Worried

Dawn-eo

***

As always, visit Shortmama at a Family of Shorts for more Dear Someone letters.

And for a good laugh, check out her "I Bet Ya Didn't Know" post. Hilarious. About piddled.

A Thank You

2009-11-11T10:08:00.004-06:00

I'm sitting at my computer. With the man on my lap. Being an incredibly cute pain in the rear. I haven't gotten anything accomplished this week because he has been continually on me. Do you know how hard it is to type anything, let alone finish a thought sequence, when your almost 3 year old is on your lap chattering a million miles an hour while pressing all the buttons possible? Try it. It's rather entertaining. NOT. And the fact that he keeps moving the screen up and down with the little wheel on the mouse? Yeah, enough to make me sick. But he's better now. So I'll take it. But my whole point of sitting down at the computer today was to thank all of the Veterans. Thank you for protecting our country and our freedoms. Thank you Jonathan. Thank you Christina. Thank you Erin. Thank you Everyone.

And from the man:

.,b 880124ad5gfb v bgvgbvfbfgvbfgv

Making A House A Home

2009-11-09T09:14:00.003-06:00

The original part of our house was built in 1892 and consisted of what is today the playroom, the kitchen, tot bathroom, living room, Daelyn's bedroom, dining room, and I believe the porch. The addition happened around 2005 and gave us our computer area, pantry & laundry room, man's bedroom, master suite & bath, 2-car garage, and the 2 finished rooms in the basement.

We have what I lovingly refer to as a non-yard. Our driveway is narrow and does not lead to the garage. To get to the garage from the driveway would require a 27-point turn or some other fantastical stunt-type driving. HH and I laugh at what is now our home because it's all we can do. The non-yard? Dangerous. It's not level at all. Walking in the side yard is like signing a death warrant.

And the floors in the original part of the house? They're a trip. Literally. A ball does not stay point on any floor in the original part. If you stand in the living room and look down the hall you can see the tilt-a-whirl that are our floors. Oh, and our walls are crazy. We recently had 2 8-foot floating shelves put in our living room. We had no idea the middle of that wall was 1/2 inch farther out than the end of the wall. Yes, it is bowed. Laughably bowed. The stud walls are seemingly randomly placed because apparently in 1892 there were no set standards or codes for house-building.

The heat does not come on in Daelyn's room or the dining room. Yea, I need to call a heat guy but I forget most days.

The first time we attempted to turn the outside spigot on, the whole thing came off in HH's hands.

If all our doors are locked, you can get into the front porch but not into the house from the porch. Our key doesn't work for that door. Yeah, we should probably get new locks installed.

The living room is large but due to the 4 doors, only half of it is actually usable as living room space. The rest is just decor area. And our porch? It currently houses the dog kennels and some random tot toys. I just don't know what to do with that space. We have no trees as our yard is that small. I'm trying to do a flower garden, but well, I was blessed with mom's thumbs. And they are far from green.

The steps to the basement are steep and short. My small foot doesn't even fit on it.

And we just now have all our shutters on. Half of them came off in the various storms that we have had in the last 2 years. Who knew you had to special order shutter screws? Well, we didn't.

Our basement has flooded more times than I like to think about but thanks to a talented cousin of mine, the problem seems to be fixed. The first time HH cleaned the gutters he was actually removing plants. I don't go in the basement alone because, well, I don't like basements. They.terr.if.y.me.

People who are new to our home get lost and turned around because it's just odd like that. Our front steps are incredibly small. To open the screen door you must step down or fall off. Both tots, both dogs, and myself have gone into the flower bed at least once or 34 times.

But the crazy house that we keep finding random things to laugh about has become our home. It has character. And our memories. At least from the last 2 years. And as we do the home improvement projects that we have set out for ourselves, we can't help but laugh at the oddities that is now our home. Because when I'm 90 and senile and driving the nurses mad at the nursing home, I'll laugh to myself or out loud at the time we tried to hang curtains in the dining room only to realize hanging the curtain rod level as it should be called attention to the fact that the ceiling and floor were not on straight lines. Or on lines at all.

It Was Supposed To Be a Dear Someone Day

2009-11-05T17:40:00.004-06:00

So I had all these great Dear Someone letters in my head yesterday that I was going to post today.

I went to mom's to get the man after volunteering at the Dae's school.

All my thoughts went out the door after I got thrown up on.

So I'm going with yesterday's theme:

Some days are better than others, and other days it's like this:

The dog craps blood
In the house no less
You can't find a clean spoon to eat with
You find your little man drinking out of the dogs' water bowl
And later on you find him putting the insides of the blue Care Bear in his mouth
Only to be topped when you find him cleaning the toilet
with the scrubber
and his hands
and dripping toilet water on your boots
And today he threw up on me

File this under: The things I was never told when I was pregnant. Thank you everyone for keeping your mouths shut.

Wordless Wednesday: Vamp-tots

2009-11-04T16:34:00.002-06:00

I present to you: Vamp-tots. The tots dressed as bride & groom vampires. The man ended up looking more Eddie Munster though. Still freaking cute.

And I pose this question to you: Who in your house eats all the Halloween candy? See the poll to answer. I only ask because I'm chowing down on Now & Laters as I impose limits on what the tots eat.

Suicide Walk this Weekend

2009-10-29T09:51:00.002-05:00

Dear Friends,

This weekend, HH & I will be joining with thousands of people nationwide this fall to walk in AFSP's St. Louis Walk 2009 Out of the Darkness Community Walk to benefit the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. I would appreciate any support that you give me for this worthwhile cause.

We are walking in honor of Steven Nelson. Weldon's best friend who committed suicide on February 15th of this year. He left behind friends, family and so many loved ones who miss him every day. HH & I are trying to help Jessica, the mother of 2 of Steve's youngest children, and the love of his life raise money for this incredibly worth-while cause. Any help is appreciated.

The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention is at the forefront of research, education and prevention initiatives designed to reduce loss of life from suicide. With more than 33,000 lives lost each year in the U.S. and over one million worldwide, the importance of AFSP's mission has never been greater, nor our work more urgent.

I hope you will consider supporting my participation in this event. Any contribution will help the work of AFSP, and all donations are 100% tax deductible.Donating online is safe and easy!

To make an online donation please click "Support This Participant". Thank you for visiting Jessica's fundraising page!

Steven's Myspace Page

The Story of S & H

HH in Mourning

Dear You & You & You

2009-10-29T08:41:00.003-05:00

Dear Mornings,

Why must you suck so bad? I can think of a million different things I'd rather be doing at 6:30 AM than waking up. Okay, okay, so I can only think of one thing, but it's something I rather excel at. Sleeping. Sleeping is what should happen at that ungodly hour. An alarm clock at that time is just plain rude. So can you find a way to not be so sucky?

Signed,
I'd Rather be Snoozing in E-ham

****

Dear Comfy Bed O'Mine,

Wow. You rock my world. You're soft. And comfortable. And warm. Inviting. Conducive to hitting the snooze past the point that the alarm actually goes off. As I despise mornings, can you turn rock solid at the same time my alarm goes off so that I may actually get up on time? No? Okay, well, I'll just keep pulling the blankets over my head and cozy up to the tots that inevitably find their way in.

Signed,
Queen of the Snooze Button

****

Dear Creator of Laundry Hampers,

Hi. So I'm short. Not elfin short, but short enough to not be able to buy regular length pants. And I'm proportioned correctly. Thus, I do not have ape arms. Considering my dirty laundry goes into said hamper, I really do not like going in head first up to my shoulders in the hamper to get that one lone sock that always manages to find it's way to the bottom of the hamper. Hampers smell of dirty socks and something else that should not be named. I always feel a need to shower after half my body has been crammed inside of the hamper. What I'm really trying to say is, short people do laundry too. They also buy laundry hampers. If you could make a hamper that does not require contortionist type moves to get the laundry out, that would be phenomenal.

Signed,
Short in Stature

****

Dear Man,

Yes, you are undeniably cute. But even the cute get in trouble. And not even your award-winning mischievous grin of yours will get you of your discipline. The sooner you learn that, the better off we'll both be. I'm only bringing it up because it's hard to follow through with disciplinary measures when you are looking up at me with those big blue eyes and all-knowing smile.

Signed,
Wrapped Around Your Finger,
Momma

****

Dear Nightmares,

Really? Still? I'm 27. Isn't there like a cut-off time for you? Yeah, I get the occasional bad dream. But to still have heart-pounding, scream-inducing, sweat-producing nightmares as an adult just seems wrong. Stop with the horror movies you say? But I don't have nightmares about Jigsaw or Leatherface . So can you just stop already?

Signed,
Scared Sh*tless at 3 AM

****

Visit Shortmama at a Family of Shorts for more Dear Someone letters.

8 Years and Counting...

2009-10-26T13:04:00.003-05:00

Dearest Dawn,
Happy, actual, 8year anniversary! ! ! You are the love of my life. Through thick and then and over again, I love "U" through and through. You are my teammate, my best friend, and my my love. I'm am glad that we met. I'm even happier that you pulled the first move and opened the door to what is the rest of our lives together. May we be happy forever. You are the reason I get up in the morning and my motivation to do all that I am able to do. Without you a day is just a day, but with you.....words just can't describe. Thanks for being there for me. I've always loved you from day one and will love you far beyond this life on earth.
With All My Love
Always and Forever
"Your" Husband
Weldon
A.K.A. HH, S, SS

54 and 8

2009-10-24T21:06:00.003-05:00

Today is my dad the Pap's birthday. Daelyn woke up at 8 am and promptly called him to wish him a Happy Birthday. Once Dae girl knows it's your birthday she insists on celebrating from sunup to sundown, and long past then if we would let her. He opened gifts. We did the cake thing in the form of Halloween cupcakes. The toppers were Halloween-themed rings. Guess who picked it out? Yeah. We went bowling. Tots + Cam + Us + Pap + Jon-Jon + bowling lanes = good times. I actually broke 70 the first game. And much to my disbelief, I broke 100 the second game. I'm not sure I've ever done that. (Yes, I'm a horrible bowler. But Lord, I love it.) The tots loved it. Beware if you ever see said tots in the bowling alley: Watch your toes. And your drinks. And your ice buckets. We got back to our place and Pap made dinner. Yes, the birthday man cooked. On his birthday. It's what happens when you used to cook for a living and can cook the pants off Julia Child or Emeril or whomever. Great-freaking-day.

And today is also the day that celebrates 8 years of HH and I as a couple. 8 years ago today I tapped him and we've been together ever since. I love him more now than I ever have thought possible. This anniversary means more to me than our wedding anniversary. We had Daelyn before we got married so to celebrate only our wedding anniversary seems wrong. It seems to me that we would exclude Daelyn that way. I know, it's only in my head. But still. We didn't do anything special to celebrate. We celebrate on our wedding anni. But we are together tonight as a family. In the house we made a home. Surrounded by memories and photos of loved ones.

Life is Good.

To whom it may concern

2009-10-22T12:51:00.006-05:00

Dear Man,

It wasn't about the milk. It was the principle. You asked for something to drink at nap time. I politely told you no but you could have some after nap time. And then the fit happened. I offered you a drink of water. You not-so-politely refused the water. Almost an hour later of you screaming was not going to get you your desired milk. As hard as it was to listen to your tantrum, your refusal of water reinforced the fact that you would not die of dehydration in your sleep. And yes, my name is still mommy, I am just ignoring your screams of "MOMMYMOMMYMOMMYMOMMYMOMMY!" At this point in time, it's just the principle of not giving in to you. I really don't give a hoot about the milk. I'd give you a cow if that's what it was about. But it's not. You may not realize it now but when you have your own tantrum-throwing child you will get it. And I will laugh my grandma *ss off.

Until then,
I love you screams and all,
Mommy

****

To whom it may concern:
Or more specifically, the creator of those little ball things that are inside stuffed animals,

Yeah, what were you thinking? You apparently are not a woman, and if so, not a mommy. Because mommies? We wouldn't put something as choke-hazard as those little ball things inside our children's stuffies. And you could also have not been a dog owner. Because you would have known. You would have known how much puppies like to chew. You would have known that puppies are intrigued by those d*mn little balls. You would have known how much of a mess they would make once the reindeer or dolphin or bear #1 or stuffed animal of the day would create once the eyes and nose was chewed off. You would have known that once those cute little hard things that get the dogs attention in the first place are gone, the attention goes to the inside of the frog or bear #2. And that's where your ever-so-bright idea crumples. Because that is when those little ball things go all over the floor. And you were clearly never in non-carpeted household. Because you would have realized that once those little balls of death are let loose onto a non-carpeted floor, they roll. They bounce. They go all over the d*mn place. And several sweepings and vacuumings later, those little ball things are still under the couch, in the couch, under the entertainment center and in the corners of the rooms. Multiple rooms. And just for the record, they don't sweep up very well. And don't even get me started on what happens when you step on one or seventeen in a half-dazed sleep and about break your tailbone in an effort to stop the sliding. And if you had been one of said people, then you must have had a maid. And we could never be friends.

Signed,
Momma and Dog-owner in a little ball filled house

****

Dear Neighbor,

Hi. I know we have not really talked but last Halloween pretty much insured the fact that I would stay safely on my side of the street. Do you not remember me? Oh, well let me remind you. I'm the neighbor who last year had both the black and red supermen. I'm the one who really liked your red she-devil costume complete with realistic snake draped around your neck. I'm the one who brought my children to your candy bowl with no FLIPPIN CLUE that the *shudder* thing *shudder* around your neck was real. Yeah, remember me now? Yeah, I'm the one who left her children on your doorstep while I backed off in a pale stupor after realizing that said thing was moving and flicking it's tongue out. Anyways, last year aside, I'll be the one standing on my doorstep while my husband takes our tots to your door. Because me? Yeah, I'm deathly afraid pee-my-pants terrified of those things without legs. I just don't think something that has no legs should be able to move on land, in water, up trees, and into small crevices. It's just not right for lack of a better word. So Happy Halloween to you from my side of the street to yours.

Signed,
Pale with little bladder control

****

Dear HH,

Thank you. You have no idea how much it brightened it my tantrum-filled morning-turned-afternoon to find a bag of Snickers in the freezer. I love you. And your surprising ways.

Signed,
Your Snickers-eating-loving wife

****

Dear Snickers,

Why do you have be so gosh-darned good? And you rock my world frozen. Can you come out with a fat-free no-love-handle-inducing version of your delicious self? Oh, no? That's alright. I'm still munching away here.

Signed,
Your #1 Fan

For more Dear Someone letters, and to find out what a javelina is, visit Shortmama at a Family of Shorts.

She's typing now.

2009-10-20T20:10:00.002-05:00

As typed by Daelyn, herself:

daelyn

mommy

daddy

dunston

weldon

gia

sophie

oma

opa

pappy

5 2 27 29

7 7 54

orders

tgftygtftgyftfyftdtfyffyftfyffyyffyggyuysgugughgghg

To Kegel or not to Kegel.

2009-10-19T07:51:00.003-05:00

I have children. Twice in my life I was pregnant. Therefore, I have no bladder control. I got really excited this weekend when we were playing a game of Cranium with some friends. Needless to say, I dribbled in my pants a little. Hi, I'm 27 and I can pee my pants.

Yes, I know, KEGELS. I'm sorry, but really? When I sit down, I just want to sit down. I don't want to be exercising my nether-regions. As I told HH this weekend, "Only people like Julia Roberts who can have someone do them for her actually do Kegels."

Did you do Kegels? OR. Do you pee your under-roos?

***

And in a far more controversial topic, Christina is having a bit of issue with guns and racism. Her son is 4. He plays with guns. We live in Central Illinois. Land of deer hunters. He says funny things. The child is clearly not a racist as he was just over at our house last week. HH watched him and the tots while Christina and I went to dinner with some friends. Weigh in here.

And just for the record, HH and I fairly liberal and are very Pro-Obama. But, clearly, Calvin is 4. He has an imagination.

He Learned From the Best.

2009-10-12T21:01:00.004-05:00

Dae: Mommy, Weldon is dipping his chicken into his milk and eating it.

Me: Daelyn. Don't.

Dae: But he's also putting his hand in his cup!

Me: Daelyn, Don't tattle. Weldon, keep your hand out of your cup.

(stomp stomp stomp)

5 minutes later:
The Man: Mommy, Dae Dae is putting her french fries in her milk and eating them.

Dae: So?

It's called Karma.