Life's little pleasures.

One of those is eavesdropping. How fun is it to get to listen to some stranger make an ass out of themselves in public? (Even more fun is when people are talking about something juicy, but tonight was ass making time.)

The scene: Red Robin, which is a restaurant that makes yummy hamburgers. You must eat there, if you eat meat. Quick, like a bunny, go eat at Red Robin!

The players: Me, listening. A group of grumpy old men, who look like retired military, bitching and complaining.

So, we order our food and are doing our thing. These guys are sitting at the table behind me and the order their burgers. The waiter is asking them how they want them cooked, and Grumpy Old Man 1 says "Medium rare."
Waiter: "I'm sorry, sir, the rarest we can do is just medium."
GOM1: "Well, I guess it will have to be medium, then."
Waiter leaves.
GOM1, to his friends: "Can you believe that? They won't cook my burger medium rare. What kind of place is this anyway? That sign says gourmet hamburgers! I don't want a bunch of dried up meat (me either, but I suspect that Bill will get old one day. Whoops, wrong kind of meat.) What is the world coming to, the government is telling me how to eat my hamburger. Next they're going to tell me I have to drink my beer at 40 degrees and not at 42 degrees. No way am I leaving this guy a tip. Damned right I won't tip him for it!"

And on and on with various rants about people trying to run his life because he can't have his damned burger cooked half raw.

I was mentally laughing at him until he started saying that he wasn't going to leave the waiter a tip. Then I got mad (the former waiter in me was offended). I mean, it isn't the poor waiter's fault that the company has a policy of not serving up a helping of food poisoning to its customers. I'm sure they prefer not to be sued.

Fortunately, the ordered an appetizer, and the manager brought it out. GOM1 asked him why he couldn't have his med raw burger, and the managed nicely explained about company policy, but said he would personally make sure his burger was as close to med raw as he could make it.

GOM1 was mollified. Food was served. He ate it. When the waiter asked how things were and if they needed anything, Gom1 replied that everything was just fine and everything was good and he didn't need a thing. Big ol' pussy man.

The trouble with people who garden

I have come to realize that gardening is just another form of pissing contest.

People who garden get off on bragging about how much bigger their garden is than so-and-so's, or they have the perfect variety of produce, because so-and-so is growing Silver King corn or bigboy tomatoes and who likes those? And look at how many tomatoes I have, cause I know how to grow tomatoes, yes I do. Or, the gardener grows something he doesn't like to eat because it was requested and makes a big deal out of how magnanimous he is for this act of altruism.


Furthermore, people who garden have problems with their understanding of amounts. You cannot tell a gardener to send you just a few of something, because no one will eat it but you. Oh no, the gardener will hear "Send me..." and that's it. His brain tunes out after that. Or, more likely, he was sprinting towards the garden, bushel basket in hand by that point. The only thing left to do is to prepare yourself to be covered up in fresh produce, and if you don't compost, you might as well start, because unless you want to get into canning and freezing, half of it is likely to rot before you eat it. I don't care how many mozzarella, tomato and basil salads you think you can eat, you will be sick of them before you are out of tomatoes.

Besides, I have better things to do with my time than spend 4 hrs shelling butter peas, merely to end up with only about 1.5 qts of the damned things. Yes, they are good. Yes, they taste better than lima beans (almost anything tastes better than lima beans) but if I wanted to shell peas, I would have my own damned garden. (Yes, I could have tossed them in the compost pile, but I have a thing about wasting food, so I shelled peas and watched all of my netflix dvds.)

On the plus side, I told the family gardener that my side of the family would be glad of some fresh produce, so when you see them on the girls birthday, be sure and load them up. insert evil laugh

It's 5 o'clock somewhere, right? RIGHT?!

Dear lord, it has been a day. Yesterday was a bit of a day, too, but holy shit, today.

Yesterday I took dds to the dentist for the first time (yeah, I know they should have gone long ago. Sue me.) I would have bet money that Ellie would freak and Emma would do fine. I would have lost. Emma clamped her mouth shut and wouldn't let them do x-rays or much cleaning, because hte x-ray didn't look like the one in the Dora book and she had already brushed her teeth and they were clean. lmao
Ellie let them get x-rays and let the hygenist clean them really, really good and let her scrape a bunch of tartar off her bottom teeth, and that took about 10 minutes. I was totally amazed.

Today, they had their 5 yr well checks and it was total chaos. Never again will I take Sam with us when we go. (I swore I wouldn't ever take him again after I took all three of them when he was just a few months old and at one point I was holding two crying girls and the dr was holding a crying baby. Apparently, I lost my mind, again.)
So, they balk about reading the eye chart. Emma balked about peeing in the cup. She balked about putting on the gown. Sam was literally trying to climb the walls because the room was decorated with sports balls and he wanted them.

So, we get all the stuff we need to done and even get them to pee in the cups (Em had to go so bad she couldn't really argue). Then, they had to get shots. 4 of them, each. They cried and cried, but settled down when the nurse brought them a lollipop.
Sam had a meltdown then, because he didn't get a lollipop.

THEN, we had to go downstairs to the lab to get a blood draw. We walked in the lab and Sam started crying. Obviously, he remembered having to get his own finger stuck a month or so ago. We go back to the room with the phlebotomist and I swear to fuck it sounded like a torture chamber with all three of them crying, loudly, the whole time.

Good hell.

But, on the plus side, dds are firmly on the growth charts now. Emma is in about the 13th % for weight and 11% for height. Ellie is about 25% for weight and 20% for height.

Wait, that isn't making sense because Ellie weighs more, but Emma is taller. Oh well, they are both healthy and that is all that matters. lol



Also, the manwhore is a study in what not to do after having a vasectomy. Playing basketball, not that bad of an idea, right? Not until he misses the ball and it hits him square in the nuts.

I'm sad to report that I missed it because I was out taking a walk. He was back to the advil and ice packs last night, though.

This, that and the other.

First off, it seems I have forgotten to mention that the manwhore survived having his nuts violated on Friday. The snip snip went well, although he reports that it hurt quite a bit, despite the anesthetic. But, he was off the loratab by Sat morning and just taking advil, and I don't think he's taken anything today. He went to the bookstore and Target with me yesterday and was fine and dandy. My mother in law has made herself the most wonderful person ever, in my eyes, by taking Em and El with her for the weekend. They just got back a bit ago.

Speaking of the bookstore, I went and bought my copy of Harry Potter, which I'm sure I will end up passing on to my nephew. I'm done with it (and the house is a sty, despite the missing kids because I've done nothing but read for two days), and I must say, I laughed a little, but I cried a lot. Tears of sadness and tears of joy, but lots of tears. Whoever leaked the info about three deaths in the book had obviously not read the book at all, and that's all I'm going to say about that.

Oh, yes! I almost forgot. Apparently the gods love me this week. Lenscrafters called yesterday to tell me my glasses were in, a mere 4 days after I ordered them, instead of the 7-10 days they told me. Yay! And on the way to pick them up, what was left of the hinge on the old pair snapped, so they lasted just long enough (I have prescription sunglasses, too, so I wasn't blinded before getting the new ones).

So, it's been a good weekend. Yay!

The next few days we will be running, as the girls have dentist appointments and well visits with their doctor over the next 2 days.

A rose by any other name

would smell so sweet, yes?

Ok, my few and faithful readers. I need you assistance. As some of you might be aware, I am working on my writing career and attempting to write a trashy romance novel. At almost 100 pgs into, I think I'm not doing too bad, although I foresee some major revisions in some cheesy assed scenes involving bad poetry and temper tantrums on the part of my heroine.

At any rate, I apparently suck at coming up with titles. I used to be good at it, at least in terms of research papers and shit, but I can't come up with a decent working title for this book.

So, help a bitch out, will you?

The time: Elizabethan England.
The plot: The only daughter of a wealthy merchant is given in an arranged marriage, against her will, to a Lord who she thinks needs the cash. He doesn't, but he owes her father a favor, and he is longing for a loving family life and sees that she has that with her parents (at least until she gets pissed at them for making her marry him).
She is slightly more than mildly obsessed with Shakespeare's and other's plays, especially those about trwue wuv, and wants to marry for love, not money or status and lies to the hero to try to get out of marrying him.

There will likely be an antagonist who wants to marry her himself, because his is a gambler and has lost all of his father's money and is about to be run out of town on a rail, or tossed in the Thames with a rock tied to his feet for failing to pay his creditors. He stalks the heroine, even after she is married to the hero, in a mad attempt to get her and her money.

So, eventually the hero and heroine will live HEA (happily ever after) of course, and during all of that there will be SEX! lots and lots of sex!
But I need a title. I'm tired of calling it trashy novel. The only thing I've come up with is A Marriage by Any Other Name, and I don't really love that. It's too long for one thing.

So, toss some ideas my way. KTXBye.

What will J.K. Rowling do now?

Think about it, really. What will she do now? Rowling as accomplished a once in a lifetime feet in creating the Harry Potter phenomenon. 7 books that are runaway bestsellers, movie rights to all of them. Companion books, toys out the wazoo. Shitpots of money for her. At an estimated worth of 1 billion dollars, she the richest woman in Britain now.

But, she's a writer, and writing is an itch that begs to be scratched. The more you ignore it, the more it itches. She has to be totally sick of Harry Potter and the Hogwarts world by now, though. After all, she's been at this since 1990, I think. I believe that is when she first had the idea for Harry Potter, anyway.

So, what now? What will she write next? Because I just can't believe that she will be content to sit back and do nothing but spend her shitpots of money. Yes, writers write to make money, and she has accomplished that. But writers have stories buzzing around in their heads, too. Stories that want out. And I fear that unless she writes under a pseudonym that never again will any word she puts to paper be good enough for the masses of fans of HP across the world.

But there is no doubt she is a talented writer, one capable of creating a fabulous new world, and I for one, hope that she continues to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, as the case may be) and continues to write. Children's books, adult books, mysteries, trashy romance novels. I don't care. Talented writers are always a pleasure to read (except Stephen King, at least for me).

So, JK Rowling, please don't put down your pen!

INFP

That's my score on a Jung personality test.

Introvert Intuitive Feeling Perceptive That's me.


Take it for yourself and see what you are.

http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes1.htm

$464.20

That is the price of my new pair of glasses. Ouch. And that was after the nice lady pulled a 25% discount out of her ass for me. They were like $615 or something before the discount. I stopped listening after she said 6....
I knew they were going to be high, because I had to go and pick out a pair of Versace frames. Silly of me, I know. But I really like them, and they have sparkles on the side. Very silly, I know. But, the frames were only $244 of the price. That means the lenses themselves were almost $400. Ack! Me and my damned half blind, astigmatic eyes. And let's not forget the glaucoma. Fuck it for making me unable to wear contacts anymore, which at about $120 for a pair of them (that lasted for years) were much cheaper than the damned glasses.
We can still file them on our insurance, too, so hopefully we'll get part of that back.

Did I mention they were $464.20? Don't forget the $.20.

I need new glasses

I hate buying new glasses. Completely hate it. Well, actually, I hate wearing glasses in general and miss my contacts like crazy. Fuck you, glaucoma.
That said, I have come to realize that glasses can add a bit of character to my otherwise delicate features. But, still, I hate having to buy new ones.
I am forced into because Em smacked me across the face last night (it was a total accident, btw) and it broke part of the hinge on my glasses. No can fixy, so new glasses for you!
The last two pair I've had both came from EyeMasters and they have both broken in the same way, so I'm going to Lenscrafters this time. Besides, they have this nifty 30 day guarantee where you can change them out until you love them. Or get your money back. Lenscrafters it is.

But, I still hate getting new glasses. I've been perusing their website today and I hate 99% of the styles they have. The trends are leaning towards colored frames, big chunky plastic frames ala 1980 and huge, wide arms. Bleck. I just want something simple, but not manish looking. Elegant, I suppose. Also, not costing $400 would be great, since I will be spending about $300 on just the lenses. If I paid $700 for a pair of glasses, I would be afraid to wear them. :lol

So, why do I hate getting new glasses? Well, I feel like they are part of my face and getting new ones means I am changing part of my face and I get all traumatized by it. I feel weird for about a week and feel like people are looking at me oddly because my face has suddenly changed. Of course, most people don't even notice. Hell, the last time I got new glasses, my own mother didn't notice until I pointed them out to her.

More exciting updates as I pick out some fabulous new glasses.

Home sweet home

We are home, at last. We left here 11 days ago, on the 4th of July. We are all pooped and so glad to be back. Its the driving that gets me. It didn't help that I was crammed in the back beside Em with very little leg room. I didn't get out of the van from Foley until we got to Mother's, so my legs were cramped.
I could have happily stayed another week at the beach, though. A week just isn't quite long enough because there is just too much to do and you want to be on the beach but you also want to shop or sightsee and you just can't do it all. One day maybe we can afford 2 weeks.

The last day of vacation

I should be making pancakes for 13 people, but not yet. Ellie just got up, so the kids won't be ready to eat for a bit. So, I will tell you about our vacation. The amazing thing about it is that we are having so much fun. Amazing? Why amazing, you ask? After all, aren't we at the beach? Yes, indeed we are. But prepare yourself to laugh and be horrified.
We started the week on Sunday with Bill taking Sam and Emma to run to the store. Only, he forgot that the driveway wasn't straight and he dropped the driver's side wheels of my van off the concrete and got stuck. Really, really stuck. Like tire buried in the sand stuck. We took lots and lots of pictures. Heh heh. Fortunately, the neighbor had a shovel and there was a random piece of board laying around and between me, Bill, my dad, my brother, my 17 yr old nephew and 2 neighbors, we dug out the front tire and got the board under it enough for Bill to pull forward and get on the concrete. There was much angst on my part about my pretty new van, but it came through unscathed. And, the manwhore has convinced me that he must be the milkman's kid, because he stayed calm and laughed about it through the whole thing. His dad would have had a stroke.
Later that afternoon, we get to the beach and I'm thinking it was just perfect, even though the waves were a bit rough (ie, there were waves, since this is the Gulf Coast and usually has waves about the size of those you'd find on a large lake). It wasn't too hot, the breeze was nice and the water was warm. And apparently full of jelly fish. 2 of my nephews, Bill and I all got stung.
And, I apparently don't know how to apply sunscreen because I missed half of my body and I got sunburned.

Tuesday, oldest nephew was swimming again and got stung again.

Wed, mother asked us what we thought all the little bugs were. Um, don't know, but I'll call the real estate people because I'm not trying to wash comforters. They send the exterminator and the cleaning crew. The exterminator informs us that they are lice. WTF?!?!?! Ew! Yuck! Horrors! Google informs me that they are probably body lice not head lice which means they should be easier to get rid of (hot water and soap should do the trick) but they can carry diseases. Barf.

Later that night, the manwhore and I are out on a date, sans children, when we hear the shopkeeper of the shop we were in talking on the phone saying "Tornado warning." Fuckitall. So, I call mother and sure enough, the county we're in is under a tornado warning and it was heading straight for us. We dithered for a bit and walked down to the theater to buy Harry Potter tickets for the next day. I stood watching the palm trees blowing in the increasing winds, took a look at the 150ft ferris wheel we were standing under and decided it was time to go. Just as we ran for the car, the bottom fell out of it and I looked like I had stepped into a shower. We got back to the house all right and discovered that out here, 30 miles from where we were, it hadn't even rained.

Thursday, we went to the zoo and saw Harry Potter, and got to watch my brother and sil have a white trash fight in front of the movie theater. HP was good, though. Later that night, I picked 3 lice out of Sam's hair. Barf.

So, today is Friday. I wonder what will befall us today, or even tomorrow on the way home. But, in between all of the crisises (how do you spell that? Firefox is stumped lol) we are having a blast. The water is calm now, the jellies are gone, the pool is fun. We've shopped and eaten good food and drunk a bunch of booze. Loads of good times for all.

Is it bedtime yet?

I'm pooped. Totally worn out and want to go to bed. But it is only 8:30 and the kids are still up. We're leaving at 6am, heading for the beach, tomorrow morning. And, for whatever insane reasons (sex) the manwhore and I have been up until about 1am everynight for the last 3 nights. So, the idea of having to crawl out at 5:30 in the am is not a fun one.

On a side note, I think a cat has adopted my parents. Their neighbors had a house fire a few weeks ago and they seem to have just left their cat. She's an outside cat and they left some food out, but she has eaten it all up and no one has been to check on her. So, she came and basically knocked on my parents' door and asked to be fed. She ate non-stop for about 30 mins and then slept for hours. She pretty much hasn't moved from in front of the food bowl all day. She's a sweetie and I named her Patches. lol

Breast reduction surgery

I have wanted a breast reduction for almost as long as I can remember. The new blog I added to my sidebar is a chronicle of someone on my mommy board who has had a reduction. I am watching with fascination.

I do not understand why anyone would want to have breasts this big. They've sagged since I was about 15. When I was in high school, I never had a properly fitting bra because they just didn't sell them that big in stores. They still don't, but at least now I have the internet. They get in the way. I have actually burned a breast trying to reach something and bumping a hot skillet. My back hurts ALL. THE. TIME. If I sleep on my back, I wake up with my chest wall hurting from the weight. Women who get implants larger than a D cup are insane, IMO.

So, since we are sure we are done having kidlets, I am done with the boobs. When we get back from vacation, I will make an appoint to see my gyn and see if she will give me a referral to a surgeon. I do think it is going to be about 6 months before I can have it done because I think they say 6+ months out from weaning, and that has only been about 2 months for me. And, I would like to lose about 30 more lbs before having it done. I'd hate to have it done and then lose the weight and end up with them saggy again.


Do you know the huge irony of a breast reduction, though? You get implants. ROFL They use the implants to hoist the breast back up where it belongs. How funny is that? You want smaller boobs and have to get implants to get them.

Save room for purple!

This was said to me by my eldest by 3 minutes daughter today. I am painting their room. No longer will it be pale yellow with the baby-ish Twinkle Twinkle Little Star border. It is becoming cotton candy pink and dark lavender. I thought the pink was going to be pale, but it went on much brighter than I was expecting. But, they love it and it is their room. So, pink and purple walls, and I am going to hand do a border between the colors of flowers and butterflies. They will be wallpaper cutouts, but I am going to hand paint leaves and steams, too.

But, I am not happy with the speed of my progress. The purple paint is taking two coats and I should be done by now, but I'm not because it's taking two fucking coats of paint. I will be doing good to get the wall behind their bed done and the trim so we can push the bed back so they have somewhere to sleep.

I'm having to take breaks to give my aching back a break and to let paint dry. But, back to the trenches I go.

Snip snip

So, the manwhore has an appointment to get snipped. It will be 3 weeks from tomorrow, and I admit to having mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, I am ecstatic about it. No more keeping up with cycles or remembering bc. Yay! On the other hand I want to run after him screaming "Noooooo!! Don't do it!"
I know that he is done, he doesn't want any more kids, ever. He is 41, nine years older than my tender 32, and he's done. Besides, I think he has felt a huge amount of guilt over me spending 6 weeks in the hospital, having 2 c-sections, being huge and uncomfortable and then in lots of pain. He told me before Sam was even 6 hours old that this was it, he wasn't going to do this to me again.

And, I know that not having any more children is the right decision for us. We have plenty of time and money for the 3 we have. Another baby would mean we would probably need a bigger house sooner rather than later, and there would be less money for dance, soccer, horses, etc.

Yet, I still can't help but feel sad that I will never again know that thrill/terror that comes from seeing a + on a pregnancy test. I will never again grow a baby in my body, a miraculous event, and one I treasured both times. Never again will I snuggle a baby up to my breast and nurse it. Never again will I experience the magic of watching a child of mine learn to walk and talk and tell knock knock jokes.

But, I know that another baby would most likely mean another c-section, and I just can't do it again. After the last one, the morphine pump wasn't cutting it, and when the nurse had to massage my uterus, I was screaming. I sobbed when they moved me from the stretcher to my bed (this was what had Bill saying never again). In retrospect, I'm wondering why it took them so long to bring me different drugs. WTF?

I turn into a spineless bag of mush after having a baby, and I cry over every fucking thing. I don't want to put my kids or my self or my husband through that again.

Besides, we finally have our bed back (mostly) and our sex life is better than ever, and I feel like I am finding ME again after being nothing but a mommy for the last (almost) 5 years. And I'm finding myself looking forward to school starting in August, because the three kids I have are getting on my nerves.

But dammit, I still want another baby. Even though I don't. Fuckitall.

Too many toys!

My children have too many toys. WAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYY too many. And, I've sold/ thrown away/ packed away a bunch of stuff. They just get more faster than I can get rid of the old stuff. Part of the problem is that my in-laws have to give presents to the non-birthday child. WTF? Since I know that they have already bought the boychild a present for his sisters' birthday, I will wait until after then, but then I am going to ask them (read: tell them) not to do it anymore. I don't care that Great Aunt Moppy did it for Bill and Dede. My kids have more toys than they can play with in a week thanks to birthday's that look like Xmas and Xmases that look like a fucking toy store.

And, when they have too many toys, they can't/won't help put them away after they drag them all out because they are tired from all the playing. So, tonight, I have a dress up box full of pretty dresses in time out in my closet because they wouldn't help pick them up.

The den is scattered with puzzles and animals and a pirate ship, too, that I will get to put up because apparently I am the only one bothered by a messy house. And we're going to be away from home for 10 days, starting July 3rd, and I would really like to just keep things tidy until then and not have to clean like mad next week so we don't come home to a messy house. Le sigh.

I almost forgot

Happy Solstice to all!

Man titty and condom ads

I am totally just taking these from one of the blogs I read, the Smart Bitches over there in the list. But they are so fucking funny I want to share them with the world.

Condom ads:

http://yuxt.com/kisa/Best_condom_ads

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nWUqfM9VaB8

Too bad they don't show these on US television. lol

Man titty:

http://www.bestweekever.tv/2007/06/19/unemployment-check-move-over-hulk-hogan-theres-a-new-peck-flexor-in-town/

Let me flap my man titty at you!

Go, watch and laugh, grasshopper. Ohm!

Birthdays and Father's Day

Friday was the boychild's birthday. He is now 2 and I have no more babies. He is so wonderful and special that sometimes I want to have another baby just so I can do the toddler years one more time. Dds were wonderful and special at this age, too. They still are, but have added smart mouths and eyerolls to the mix.

But, my sweet boy had a lovely birthday. After singing "Happy birthday" to him all day, he was trying to sing it to himself. And he got a pile of presents and the only one he doesn't like is the tricycle that we bought for him. lol

On the down side, half of the invited guests didn't show up and didn't bother to call and tell me they weren't showing up, so we have so many leftover, it's just ridiculous. I made fajitas and we're going to be sick of them before we use them all up. I've been making salads for lunch with the chicken and tonight will be quesadillas. But still.

And, I'm a little peeved at the lack of phone calls. At least some people told my mother they weren't coming. But my brother and sil told us they were coming. In fact, we had the party on Friday night instead of Sat just so they could come. And I spoke to him on Thur and no indication they weren't coming. Asshole.

Mother and dad stayed over and went home Sat evening. The girls went with them, and will be staying until Tues, when the boy and I will join them. So far, they are having a blast.

But, I think that the manwhore misses them. Yesterday, he looked a bit sad and commented that maybe we shouldn't have sent them to Camp Grandma on Father's Day. Poor guy.

But he had a good day. We went out to eat for supper (instead of noshing on more leftovers). Dinner was marred by the family of 6 seated next to us with the screaming baby, though. I say baby, she was as big as my son. She screamed the entire time we were there, and the only thing they did was send the teenager out with her a few times and spank her once. Oh yeah, spanking an already screaming kid is really going to help with that. Not. Idiots.

At one point, all three of their little ones were crying. twitch They should have skipped the nice restaurant and gone to MickeyD's.

No more PT!

Yay! Em finished up her physical therapy today. She may need more in the future, but we are going to take the summer off and work with her at home. And her therapist expects that the Dr will want to give her some time in school to see how she does before deciding if she needs more therapy. I am so proud of my girl. She has worked hard, and the difference is amazing. Of course, her therapist has been great, and Em hasn't realized how hard she has been working because it all seemed like fun and games. She looked forward to going to therapy most of the time.

We celebrated with a batch of cupcakes. I took them to therapy for her and her therapist and her student and anyone else who needed a cupcake. They were quite yummy, and I've finished off several that the kids didn't finish today. Oink oink.

I've been quite the cake baking fool lately, and I've got another one to do tomorrow. I've done a soccer cake, and the cupcakes and tomorrow is a baseball cake for the little boychild. He is turning 2 on Fri. I can't believe that I won't have any more babies after Fri. I am a bit trist over it. But not enough to want to have another baby.

Did I mention that the manwhore has an appointment for the ol' snip snip? Not for the actual procedure, yet, just a consult. But maybe he can get snipped before we go away on vacation. We won't be having sperm free sex by then, though. Too bad.


Speaking of sex (cause I just gotta tell someone) we were doing the deed last night and I got a leg cramp. Actually, I got a cramp in both legs. Right at the exact wrong moment, if you know what I mean. Oh, OH, OH! OW! OW! OW! Let me up!!! My right leg cramped first, and then when I moved try and straighten it, the other leg cramped. So, I was hobbling around trying to get the cramps to stop and the manwhore was all bewildered because I jumped out of bed. lol
Talk about ruining the moment. lol

I love toddlers

So far, with all of my children, the toddler years have been my favorite. You aren't totally exhausted as a parent by this point because you are getting more sleep. And kids are just exploding with development. It is amazing to watch their little brains. It is almost like they are growing right before your eyes. The boychild is coming out with words, phrases and sentences left and right. Things we've never heard him say before, and he will say them plain as day. Friday night, MIL came and babysat and he ran up to her and said "Hi Grandma!" He's never even tried to say Grandma before, and out it came, plain as day. Also appearing this week have been "all gone," "I don't know," "watch this!" and countless others. It is so much fun!

Speaking of Fri, the manwhore surprised me with tickets to Cirque du Soleil. We went downtown to eat and just picked a place. The was Morton's Steakhouse, and dh knew it was expensive, but I was totally unprepared for the $$. It cost us $150, with the tip. I was about to choke as I signed the CC slip. They had bottles of wine on their wine list that were $1000+. Needless to say, we laughed and passed on those.
Even worse than the prices were the portion sizes. The smallest steak on their menu was 16 oz. Oh, wait, I forgot about the 8oz, $28 filet. I made dh split a steak with me, though, because I refused to pay that much for a hunk of meat. They even have a 48 oz steak, at a price of $90. The waitress said that was the steak that people generally split, but that is still 1.5 lbs of meat per person. Waaaaaaaaay more than anyone needs to eat.
But, it was good. Just shockingly expensive.

And, I will confess to being a bit disappointed by Cirque du Soleil. I have seen them before, in Vegas 11 yrs ago and sat through that show with my mouth hanging open. This one was boring in places. It had a lot of singing, and some of the singers weren't that good. I know people who aren't pros and getting paid who knows what to sing who can sing better than that. You know who you are.
So, too much singing, and not enough acrobatics. But the people around me were saying that the show was amazing.

I know I wasn't the only one that wasn't overwhelmingly impressed, because someone booed them after one act. I was shocked and embarrassed because they weren't that bad. Just polite applause bad. I felt like they would think Nashville is nothing but a bunch of rednecks because they got booed. Oh well, maybe they'll improve their next show.

Still, it was a date and a night out without kids, so it was all good.

Birth is a pissing contest among women

So says someone on my mommy message board. This discussion came about because someone posted some link to a homebirth vbac story and people were talking about it. The woman in the story was ecstatic to have a vaginal birth after 2 (or was it 3?) c-sections, and several people just couldn't understand why anyone really cared how their baby got into the world.

Now, before I delve into that, I will say there is something about women that tends to make them share birth stories with each other, and often it seems to be a contest to see whose is the worst, longest labor, most interventions, most drugs, fewest drugs, biggest tear, most stitches, and on and on. They are women's war stories, stories of their survival and their entrance into womanhood (let's not get into the fact that you don't have to incubate another person in your body to be a woman, the instinct for telling these stories is probably as old as humanity, and open adoption and a chosen child free life are new to societal acceptance).

So, war stories, passage into womanhood. Yes, birthing a baby is a life event. A life changing event at that. It is up there with marriage and death and coming of age. And like coming of age and marriage, how many women fantasize about giving birth and how it is going to be and how they are going to greet this new person and how special it is going to be. I know I did. I know other women do too. If we didn't, there would be no need for Lamaze and hypnobirthing and Bradley and birth plans, etc. We would go into birthing with no expectations and just let things flow and what will be will be.

Now, of course, some women are like that, and that is fine. But for those of us who had dreams of singing Happy Birthday Baby! and counting fingers and toes and dreams of claiming our womanhood by pushing out a baby with our own bodies, having things go differently than we'd hoped is a loss. Healthy mom, healthy baby. You hear this mantra, and yes, that is the utmost importance. But it doesn't mean the loss and grief felt by some women who end up with unwanted interventions or unwanted c-sections is any less real.

Imagine, if you will, your wedding day. Did you have the fluffy white dress, and tons of flowers and the tall white cake and an orchestra? No? Did you want them and not get them? Was it planned and fell apart at the last minute? You still got married, so what's the big deal? The wedding is just one day, right?
What if you just wanted a small ceremony with the JoP and a handful of friends and your mother steamrolled you into a huge event with 12 bridesmaids and and 400 guests? You're still married, right?

But it does matter when the big day doesn't go as planned. You get angry and you cry and you grieve. Sometimes for a lifetime. Sometimes for just a day. But the feelings are there and you are entitled to them.

Birth is the same way, I think. Only, we have pushed the focus (or maybe it has always been there) on nothing matters but a healthy mom and healthy baby and claim it doesn't matter how the baby gets into the world. But, for many women, it does matter, and for some, it matters a great deal. The feeling that they have lost control of their own body, or that their body has failed them can be there. They may mourn the lost time spent with their new baby. Sure, the baby doesn't remember those minutes or hours, but mom does.

So, there is loss and grief and mourning, and if things were traumatic enough, there is depression and even PTSD. And sadly, in our society, this is all too often ignored and pushed under the rug and women are made to feel alone or even a little bit crazy for how they feel. Because, all that matters is that mom and baby are healthy, right? Maybe. But maybe not. I choose to believe that baby's arrival into the world is an important event and how she gets here has at least a measure of importance that should not be overlooked.

So, if you've had a disappointing or even traumatic birth, know that you are not alone, and that the feelings you may be feeling are real and normal and you have every right to them, even if it is months or even years after.

Only, if you aren't moving through the grief process and dealing with them or if it is overwhelming your life, then I would suggest you need some help, either counseling or drugs, because you do have to process the emotions and deal with them, just like with any loss.

Wow, how long has it been?

I've been neglecting this lately. So, let's catch up. The girls graduated from preschool last week and are on summer vacation. Em has already asked once if they were going to school that day, so I think she's going to miss it over the summer. But, fall will be here all too soon and with it, pre-kindy (if they get in that program).

The boy has a birthday coming up. He will be 2 in 3 weeks and I will officially no longer have a baby.
And, I've weaned him from the boob. Surprisingly I occasionally find myself a little sad about it, but overall I'm overjoyed. And he made the transition easily. Naps were the hardest to get down, but we seem to have a routine, now. And, I'm planning to send him to Mother's day out next fall, and he had to be able to go to sleep without a boob.

What else?

Oh yes, the reason I haven't been on here too much. One of my dear friends encouraged me to stop thinking about being a writer and to actually be a writer, so, I've been writing. In less than three weeks I have written 56 pages of trashy romance novel. If I had been this prolific of a writer for my master's thesis, I would have finished the damned thing and would have an MA in hand instead of crapping out on it like I did.

I am actually starting to think of myself as a writer and I am writing a couple of pages almost every day. And I have plans to join Romance Writers of America and the local chapter here in N'ville so I can get support and access to a critique group. Good times!

Perhaps I will be accepting my first advance sometime in the foreseeable future!

Mother's Day

We had a lovely day. I actually got my goodies last week, as we were at my parents' house this weekend.
I got a new light for the kitchen and a wicker chaise lounge for the patio and a bunch of plants for the garden.
Yesterday, I got some sweet cards from the kids and the manwhore and got to take a lovely nap.

I had my lovely friend Autumn Zephyr make my mother a watch that was just beautiful. Mother actually gasped when she saw it.

We stayed too late and didn't get home until almost midnight, so now all are tired and cranky.

But, in other exciting news, the boy child has not nursed since Thursday! Yay! At 23 months old, I am quite ready to be done. He's been asking for it this morning, but as been ok without it.

100 years

I'm 15 for a moment
Caught in between 10 and 20
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
I'm 22 for a moment
She feels better than ever
And we're on fire
Making our way back from Mars
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
I'm 33 for a moment
Still the man, but you see I'm a they
A kid on the way
A family on my mind
I'm 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I'm heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy, Time to lose yourself
Within a morning star
15 I'm all right with you
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live
Half time goes by
Suddenly you’re wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We're moving on...
I'm 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are
15 there's still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 you’re on your way
Every day's a new day...
15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose
Hey 15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live.
-Five for Fighting

I don't know why, but this song makes me cry. I've listened to it like 5 times tonight.

I'm tired.

I've been gardening over the last few days. Sunday, we went to Home Depot and dh bought me a lounge chair to match my outdoor wicker and a bunch of plants for the flower beds. I've planted 4 window boxes, 5 pots, transplanted several things from one place to another, planted 9 things in the front and 8 pots of mondo grass around the patio. I need about 16 more pots of it, but I don't have the mojo to plant that much at once. :lol I've done all this over several days, not just today. Oh, and also I've been weeding. Fun. Nice exercise, though. And, I'm not done, I want more plants in front and more pots and some herbs and tomatoes and stuff. And more mondo grass (it's like thin, very green monkey grass.

I was going to wax philosophical about this happy place I am in right now. But, I'm too tired. lol So, I'm going to bed.

The quirks of women

Last night I went to my yoga class, and Dawn, the chick that teaches the class before (kickboxing, I believe) was packing up. Her, my yoga teacher, and one classmate were talking about last weekend's Music City Marathon, and the 5K fun run at the Y the week before. The classmate made some disparaging remarks about her time and whatnot, so Dawn fusses at her for it. You ran 26 miles! That kind of thing.
They got to talking about women who do stupid things like not eat the day before (Hello, how are you supposed to run with no fuel in your body), and about how women who work out and are amateur athletes are too obsessed with number on a scale and not with how fit they are.

This is so true. When I was a skinny thing, I was totally upset by the fact that I outweighed friends by 20, 30 or even 40 lbs (when your best friend weighs 95 lbs, this isn't hard to do). Through most of my teen years, I lifted weights and rode an exercise bike multiple times a week, plus marching band and show choir and shit. I was in pretty good shape and had pretty good muscle mass.

As an adult, I know people who are like this, too. One woman I know, S, has run marathons and runs on a regular basis and works out a lot. She looks good, thin and fit. Especially when you take into consideration her 4 yr old twins and 9 month old baby girl. Yet, she is upset that she weighs about 160 lbs. But she has to be 160 lbs of muscle, because she is not fat.

C, another woman in the multiples group where I know S, is actually in therapy for her food issues. Not that I think this is a bad idea, since I think I could use some, too, but still, therapy over food. Men would scoff at the idea. I can't even get my man to consider a nutritionist.

Another good friend, T, has put away her scale and is focusing on being healthy and not on a number, which is an awesome thing to do. She itty bitty and very fit and I think was getting upset that the number wasn't what she would like it to be. Remember that the same volume of muscle weighs more than an equal volume of fat. ;)

So, women are strange creatures with our relationships to food and scales and dieting. I do realize that men have their problems, too, otherwise there wouldn't be any fat men, and there are plenty of those. But women do seem to have the larger share of food issues.

I wish all of us could be like my sil, who eats whatever the hell she wants, but knows to stop when she's full, and so far as I've seen, once full, doesn't take another bite and she is a normal, healthy weight. Somehow or other, she has totally managed to avoid having food issues.

The odd thing is that the manwhore does have food issues. How he ended up with them and not his sister is a mystery. I am envious of her food freedom, though. I hope to be there, one day.

Oh, I am a SPOILED wife.

Spoiled, I say! The manwhore sold some stock (not that we have that much, but some) so we could afford to buy the white van. The one I lurve! The one with leather seats. He actually made me cry, I was so surprised. Lovely man.

Coitus disappointus

We spent the weekend car shopping. Well, van shopping to be exact. The manwhore has decided that our van has too many miles on it and is too small, so a shopping we will go. He had done his research online and narrowed it down to a couple of vans at Driver's Way. Except, the one he really wanted was a silver Dodge Grand Caravan at the DW in Pehlam, AL. But we can go to the one here and look at the same model and test drive one and all that, and if we like it, have the other one transfered up. So, we do all that and we test drove a 2005 Dodge Grand Caravan yesterday. White with a lovely leather interior and all the bells and whistles, except a dvd player.

I like it. In fact, I love it. I want it. We have a leather interior now, and it is so easy to keep clean. A little swipe of saddle soap and it is as good as new. Cloth has to be cleaned. Wugh. And I really don't care about the dvd player. We've made 2 trips to the beach and one up the Eastern Seaboard to Maryland with our kids, all without a dvd player and they have been fine and dandy. So, I really could care less about one.

We test drove it for too long, I think. We should have just done a quick up and down the street. Instead, I decided to take it out on the interstate. I drove it down two exits and was going to make a loop back to DW when the manwhore pipes up and jokingly says "We could just drive on home from here and see if it fits in the garage."
"We could," says I. "Do you really want too?"
"Um. Yes. I really want to see if it will fit in the garage."
"Ok. Home it is."
We ended up spending about 2 hours driving the white van. Much too long. Long enough to be emotionally invested in it.

But, the clincher is that the one we test drove is $2500 more than the one in Pelham, partly because of all the bells and whistles and partly because the one in Pelham is from Louisiana. It seems there is a stigma on cars from there and they have a hard time selling, so the DW in Pelham has really reduced the price of this van until it is really a steal. They guarantee it hasn't been flooded. lol And that price difference pushes the white one out of our price range. And it is foolish to pay that much more for a van just because I want leather seats. I agree with all of this.

But, it doesn't help the fact that I am totally in love with this van, and I am very afraid I'm going to be totally disappointed in the silver one. Like, afraid I'm going to cry disappointed.

It's like I've already started this lovely love affair with the white van and during the middle of it, I'm being switched to an unknown and possibly disappointing lover. Le sigh.

We'll see. The silver one should be here tomorrow. I wait with bated breath.

I think my husband was jealous.

So, I had my girl date with my friend. Loreena McKennitt was awesome, and we had a blast talking non stop all the way there, walking around downtown, eating, looking for the Ryman, and all the way home.
I got all gussied up, because I don't have too many occasions to do so. This time, I actually took a curling iron to my hair, and thanks to the miracle of improvements in hair products, it curled, looked natural and stayed curled, even after I slept on it. Amazing! The manwhore came in whilst I was attacking my head with the hot implement, and looked surprised. Then he commented that I never curled my hair for him. Walked away with a bit of a pout.

Maybe I should drag out the curling iron more often, eh?

Penis fish

So, I've spent way too much time thinking about that penis fish on GA last night. That thing was huge. I'm thinking it must be much smaller when it actually swims up the urethra of some man's wanker. After all, having a 7 or 8 in long fish swim up one's penis must be again to reverse childbirth, a condition that would make most men want to chop their weiner off with a machete, which instrument would probably be handy in the Amazon.


As for me, I've been bitten by the spring cleaning bug. I've been spot cleaning carpets, washing windows and window sills and all sorts of stuff. Whoo hoo. But, my house is pretty clean. Not perfect, but pretty damned clean.

I have a girl date!

Yay! I'm so excited! My friend, who is Cleverly Disguised as One of the Masses over there in my list, and I are going to see Loreena McKennitt on Fri night. What fun!

Secrets of the Karma Snotra.

I'm talking about sex today, so if you don't want to hear about my sex life, stop reading now.





Still reading? Of course you are.
Is there anything more frustrating than, when you are both quivering with desire and engaged in the hottest foreplay you've had in a while, your toddler wakes up and starts crying? Honestly, at times I have to wonder how kids manage to grow up and avoided being throttled by sexually frustrated parents. But, honestly we're rather used to the interruptions by the children at this point. I snatch some clothes (mostly to keep said toddler from going ballistic because there is a bare breast in his face that he can't have), run down the hall before he gets too cranked up and hopefully he is back asleep in 10 mins or less. Usually we manage to rekindle the mood.

But, there is one thing that is at least as annoying, and certainly not very sexy, and that is getting your groove thing on while you have a cold. I mean, honestly, can you think of anything less sexy than having to say "Honey, SNIFF we need to change positions SNIFF because my nose is SNIFF running SNIFF and I'm about to SNIFF drip snot on you? SNIIIIFFFF" Missionary style is henceforth called for when I have a cold.
After I had to make the above statement last night, the manwhore laughed at me and said I should write a book and call it "Secrets of the Karma Snotra." Hence the title of this post.

Dammit!!

I thought I was close to being done with the consignment sale crap. I've gone through about 150 index cards and safety pins (making price tags) and I'm out. And I found another box of baby clothes in the garage. Waaaaaahhhhh!!!
And, I've gone through stuff and have a box of baby boy stuff to give to mom's neighbor (teen mother who is broke) and stuff to give to two of my cousins.

Maybe I can scrounge up someone else to give some to. lol

Yuck.

I have a cold. A sneezing my head off, snot dripping, heachaching, bright red nose, miserable cold. And, I'm on the rag. And I'm supposed to be organizing stuff for a consignment sale. I don't wanna. I've got to, because it has to be ready to go in a few days, and I am trying to move boxes and boxes of outgrown kids' clothes. But the more I do, the worse I feel, and the lower my prices are getting. I'm just tired of dealing with it and want it the fuck out of my house!

The results are in.

We met with the dr to go over Em's MRI results this morning. She has a small lesion in the ventrical area of her brain. Dr M said it is something that is commonly seen in very premature babies, which dds were. It was caused by a mild brain bleed, and then the blood calcified. It will always be there, but it won't get any bigger and is nothing to worry about as far as her development from here on out.

Em's upper body strength is fine and her motor skills are actually a little advanced for her age. It is just her lower body gross motor development that is delayed, and since she is improving, we have every reason to think she will catch up, eventually.

So, while no one likes to know that their child has something wrong with their brain, it is what we were expecting and hoping for, so it is good news. Even if she is never as physically capable as she could have been, that's ok. She can be in the band, or on the math team. lol


And now for a funny story. We went to church on Easter with my brother and his family. I swear the roof was creaking as myself, my mother, father, and aunt were all there and we aren't church goers at all. As we were leaving one of the elders was giving out Easter eggs to the kids. My nephews took theirs and went outside. I went out a few minutes later, and A was chasing C around. C had taken A's candy apparently. A yells at C, quiet clearly "Give it back, douchbag!" rofl
I was seriously about to die trying to keep from laughing. This is the same child who has chided me for saying the word Hell where he could hear. It seems he heard douchbag from his oldest brother, M, who is 17, and A didn't know what it meant. He looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole when I told him it was something that some women use to wash their vagina. roflmao

Good times, I'm telling you what. lol

Good god, the candy.

When did Easter become like Halloween? I swear we have more candy in the candy bowl now than we did the day after Halloween. Why does chocolate say "Welcome Spring!" or "Welcome back from the dead, Jesus?" Bunnies and chicks and eggs I get. They are fertility symbols and symbols of new life and rebirth, etc. But chocolate? Maybe it's just a convenient medium for making eggs and stuff. lol

Still, I'm taking part in a weight loss challenge on my mommy message board and I can hear chocolate eggs calling me. Eat me! Eat me! But, despite all the eating yesterday and the unhealthy eating on Sat, I am down 2 lbs for the week. Yeah!

Em is laying in the floor having a tantrum because I offered her a pbj instead of a "snack." WTF? We're seriously low on groceries anyway, but I'm going to try and get us through the day so I can go tonight without all the kids with me. Me and 3 kids in the grocery store is a recipe for a stressed out mama.

We put a mattress on the floor of Sam's room so one of us can sleep in there if we can't get him to sleep in his crib and I've had the thought that maybe he will sleep on that by himself for a while and get used to sleeping in there and then we can transition him to his crib or a bed or something. I don't care, just stop waking up 50 times a night, kid!

MRIs and sedatives.

Em had her MRI yesterday. We won't find out the results until her appoint with her pediatrician on Tues. But, it went well yesterday. I was a nervous wreck, and so was dh, although he was being manly and trying to hide it. But, I've learned over the years that when he is constantly jiggling his legs and stuff that he is trying to hide his nerves.

Anyway, she did really well. She protested a bit over the IV, even with the EMLA cream, but I've had IVs done with local anesthetic and they still aren't comfortable. And I think they hurt the entire time they are in my hand, so I understand her dislike of it. I was cuddled up on the stretcher with her when it was time to go to the MRI, so I just rode on it with her. She freaked out a little bit when she saw the machine, but I think it was just the noise. Apparently the magnet is always running, so it was making a thumping noise. But, the got the anesthesia going and she conked out in Dad's arm in about 5 seconds, so it wasn't bad. 45 mins later, dh and I come back to find her awake, but drunk, which was quite amusing and a bit of a tension release for us. She chilled out all day yesterday, but was fine.

I will admit to having midnight fantasies about sedatives for the bratboy, though. He is being a little shit about sleeping in his crib. Lately, the most he has done is about an hour in it. The worst has been when he wakes up almost as soon as his butt hits the mattress.

So, as I sit and rock him, I entertain fantasies about sleeping pills and sedatives for toddlers. It just seems like if he slept all night in there for about a week, he would realize that he is ok in there and then we could wean him off the drug and be good to go. lol

And yes yes, I know, people would totally abuse it, etc, etc., blah blah blah. It's just a fantasy.

I am such a country girl.

I wonder if my neighbors will complain about my white trashiness? I have a clothes line strung between the deck and the kids' swingset. Klassy, no? lol

Apparently, we are, also, diehard soccer parents, as well. We had practice last night and it started raining. The two new kids on the team and their parents grabbed their stuff and left. We just waited it out and kept playing after it stopped 5 mins later. Go Team!

Cleaning is boring.

So says one of my 4 yr olds. Hey kid, don't you see me jumping with joy when I have to scrub toilets or do laundry? No? Well, you must have missed it, I can't imagine why anyone would think cleaning is boring.

Well, ok, so she's right, cleaning is boring. Dusting is so boring that I pretty much never do it. Maybe twice a year I will dust. lol

But, my sweet kiddo, I hate to tell you this, but you will be cleaning for a long time. Not just in my house, but in yours, too, when you have one. Unless you manage to find that rare man that is a little bit OCD and cleans like mad or something, you'll be doing the bulk of the work, even if you have a full time job. Sucks, doesn't it?

On the plus side, my manwhore mopped the kitchen floor this weekend and the response he got from me was nice enough that I bet I get more help around here in the future. You attract more flies with honey than with vinegar, and I have a hive. lol

The moments of parenting you hate.

No one expects parenting to be all sunshine and roses. After all, changing poopy diapers isn't exactly fun. But it is also not one of those things that you, as a parent, hate. After all, it is one of the things we expect to have to do. I mean the moments you just hate, that make you wonder why you even had kids anyway.

I had one of those days yesterday. The cranky boychild has been moved to his own room, and after a couple of good nights, including one where he slept all night, Sunday night, he was up multiple times and then after 4am he refused to go back to sleep because he wanted to nurse, but I am done. I am over it. So, I'm trying to wean him, especially at night because I am really done with that. So, we rocked, and we rocked and we rocked. And he squirmed and cried and pulled at my shirt, which in my sleep deprived state really was ticking me off.

After a while of this, we went and laid down in my bed, but still he wouldn't settle down. Eventually, at5:30, I gave up and we went to the den. I plopped him down in the floor and I crawled in the recliner. In less than 5 mins, he was in my lap and then he conked out. We both slept in the recliner until dds woke us up at 7:30.

So, with much less sleep than normal, I was much more cranky than normal. And so was the boychild. It made for a completely miserable day for both of us that copious amounts of coffee did little to alleviate.

Sounds normal in the life of a parent, I know. But it always surprises me how badly I react to sudden interruptions in my sleep and how blown out of proportion it makes everything. And honestly, it makes me angry at the child for interrupting my sleep, which is completely ridiculous, but in my sleep deprived state, I just go with it and try not to take it out on the kid.

It is those moments that I hate. The ones in which my child has done something totally normal, but it makes me feel things I don't like to feel and don't like to admit to feeling.

Thank the gods that he is sleeping better this week. He is waking up only once and is content with being rocked back to sleep without being nursed. Hopefully we are on the fast track to sleeping all night and mom getting some good solid sleep. And maybe a lot more action between the sheets, since we don't have a kid in the way anymore. lol

All night long!

I've been styling up my house again. This weekend we cleaned out the guest room (and I am totally ashamed to admit how dirty it was. That was the last room I got to when we moved it, and it never got a thorough cleaning.). I painted it robin's egg blue, decorated it with baseballs and we moved Buddy Boy in. He is very excited about it, too. The first night, he ended up back in the bed with us for a while, but I put back in his crib at 2:30 and he slept until 7:30. The next night he was up a couple of times and ended up in the bed with us at 4:30 because he wouldn't settle down.

But, last night. Ah, last night. We put him down at about 10pm and he slept all night long until about 7:30 Yeah! *does the happy dance!* I went to check on him then and he was laying in the bed just looking around. I know he won't do this every night from here on out, but what a good start. And I'm so rested today.

We celebrated a birthday today.

I am such a good mommy. Let me polish my badge. See is sparkle? Why am I such a good mommy, you ask? Well, I'll tell you. I made a birthday cake for Fire the Fly, El's imaginary friend. A real cake. A chocolate one, with chocolate frosting. I even put a candle on it and we sang Happy Birthday to Fire.
What a damn fine mommy I am.

This is so not going to be a good weekend.

I've had a headache for 2 days (I think I have a sinus infection) and now the manwhore has a stomach bug. He was up most of the night running to the bathroom, so now he's going to sleep all day. The kids are driving me nuts and I can't run away. Someone hold me.

The learning curve may be steep, but I finally figured it out!

It is beautiful and sunny out today. The temp is 73* according to the weather dohicky on the computer. We didn't even come back upstairs after breakfast, just went out and played until lunchtime. A late lunchtime, at that.

We played outside all day yesterday, too. The kids were all asleep by 8:30. I think El was out before 8pm. Yeah! Maybe they'll crash early tonight, too.

While we were out yesterday, I finally got out the multi-piece playhut structure the kids got for Xmas. I've been dreading getting this thing out because it is about 10 pieces of those pop up, spring steel play house things. The kid you have to fold and curse and hold your mouth just right to get back closed again. We have 2 of these things already, and thanks to my inability to figure out how to close them, one of them got ripped when the manwhore tossed something on top of it in the garage.

Today, though, I had to close up all the ones I opened yesterday because the wind is blowing, and god knows those things are like a fucking parachute and the slightest wind sends them flying. The good news is that I finally figured out how to close the fucking things back up! Hold your mouth just so and start twisting and voila! They are closed! Yay!


The downside to spending the morning playing hard is that all of the kiddos are overtired and over cranky. I have declared it is naptime, even if they don't sleep.


And for those of you keeping track, I've decided I'm not pregnant. Aunt Flo is still lighter than normal, but definitely a red flow. Too much to be implantation spotting.

I'm so paranoid.

So, the red tide arrived yesterday. You would think that I would now be convinced that I'm not pregnant. But oh no, not me. lol Why, you ask? Well, because dear old Aunt Flo isn't her normal self. Very light and brown. Brown?! My two pregnancies announced themselves with implantation spotting that was heavy enough to make me think I was getting my period, but it was like a light period and brown. But, both times it was actually a day or two before I was due, not 4 days late. So, who the fuck knows. If I don't get a full red flow, I'll pee on another stick. lol

So, I peed on a stick.

Only one line. Thank god.

Of course, I still haven't started my moon time, so until I see blood, I will be nervous.

I will confess to feeling the tiniest smidgen of disappointment at the lack of a second line. I was thinking about sweet little baby heads, and tiny fingers and feeling the awe at growing a life inside of me.

But, also I was thinking about sleepless nights and someone else sucking on me for months and months and probably another c-section, and I find myself relieved.

And, since I entertained the thought of RU 486 or something for about a minute, that tells me that I don't want a child badly enough to not risk this again, so the manwhore will be getting the snip snip. He can call Mon and make the appoint.

Of course, I bought a 2 pack of hpts so if I don't get my period in a week, I'll pee on the other one.

Oh my fucking god.

Oh. My. Fucking. God. Shit. Damn. Fuck. Motherfuck. My period is 2 days late. My moontime. Aunt Flo. Late. 2 days late. The last two times that happened, I was pregnant. Holy shit. And here I am in the middle of BFE at my parents' house and no way of getting a stick to pee on without making up some excuse for going somewhere and I have no excuses. Stick peeing will have to wait until tomorrow.

Shit.

It's my party!

And it was a blast. Sat night we had a little gathering at my parents' house (since all my friends live much closer to them than to me) and had 5 good friends and my brother's family over to celebrate my birthday. Really, the birthday is just an excuse. I really do it because I want to see my friends. And I've decided that we're going to have more parties over the course of the year.

While I love them all, I think the best part was the fact that I actually picked up the phone and called one of my best friends from high school, whom I don't think I've seen since high school, and she came! She and I are so much alike, and I can't believe that we lost each other for all of those years. But, I'm not going to lose her again. She told me that things were rough for her for several years, and mentioned being abused by her stepfather, and I had no idea. I feel so horrible, like we should have noticed or something and stopped it. But, she seems to be dealing with it in whatever ways one deals with these things. Bless her.

All of us spent the evening catching up, eating too much, and drinking too much. And then my mother pulled out the pictures and we had a walk down memory lane. Much fun was had by all.

These are the people who mean the most in the world to me, minus one couple who couldn't come. Seeing them once a year is just not enough. So, there will definitely be more parties over the course of the year. And I swear I will pick up the phone and call my friend, since the bitch doesn't have a computer. lol

The only down note to the weekend was that the boychild developed a sinus infection. He was starting a fever on Sat and he slept through the party. Sun morning he woke up feverish and was gagging on mucus. He puked up green chunky mucus a couple of times. But, my wonderful pediatrician was willing to call in some zithromax for us and today he is so much better after just one dose.

Also, my manwhore managed to totally shock the shit out of me by giving me a GC to a local day spa in the amount of, are you ready for this?...........$500!!!!! I about fell out of the damned chair. I mean, good hell, $500! I know part of that had to be our tax return. lmao What a way to spend it. But, I'm sure I will enjoy it over the next year as I get massaged or pedicured. What a good manwhore he is. lol



BTW, I really need to learn how to put pictures and shit on this thing.

Spring!

A little taste of spring has arrived. This is what I love about the South. It's the middle of Feb, which is the middle of winter in many parts of the country. But in the South, the first breezes of spring are blowing. Wed it was 72 degrees. The last two days have been in the upper 60s. My buttercups are up. My neighbor's are blooming, and there is a hint of yellow on the forsythia. We're visiting my parents and the buttercups here are actually past their prime. I love it.

It makes for a nice time to have a birthday, too. After the freezing temps of winter, spring zephyrs blow in just in time for it to be warm on my birthday. It makes me feel special. lol

In other news, the girls had their evals for kindy today at The School. Who knows how they did. We'll find out in March, sometime. But, we aren't expecting them to get in and are planning to
send them to a kindy readiness program instead and try The School next year.

It's done!

The trim work is done! I rock! And my hands are so tired. They were starting to shake a little bit at the end. I'm just tired all over. We still have to put the kitchen back together, though.

And of course, the nice, pretty fresh paint in the kitchen just points out how badly other rooms need painting. The foyer is really bad. I think that is going to have to be a project for this spring, too.

I'm finally styling up my house.

Well, maybe. Slowly anyway. lol

I spent the entire weekend painting my kitchen. The house was built in '94, we've been in it since '01 and it still had the white contractor paint in the kitchen. It was pretty nasty. I mean, between the chocolate milk splashed on the wall (that was the last straw, btw) to the time the cat had a head wound and rubbed blood on the wall (barf! and it wouldn't wash off) and just general dirt, it was bad. So, one coat of Kilz as a primer, a coat of Capri Cream on top and a coat of Butter on the bottom and it's loverly. I still have to do the trim work, which I will try to work on today, but that should go pretty fast.

Now, I just have to put everything back where it goes. But I love the yellow. It makes it so bright and cheery. I hope if we ever sell this house that the buyers like yellow, though. 2 of the 3 bedrooms are yellow, the den is yellow, and now the kitchen is yellow. And I'll probably paint the downstairs bath yellow, as I have a shitload of paint left over. I totally overestimated how much paint I would need. I could have done a half gallon in each color, but bought gallons. So now I have half a gallon of Capri Cream and 3/4 of a gallon of Butter.

Now we just have to replace the blinds, because they were all kinds of nasty and I'm not into washing blinds.

Projects left to do:
strip wallpaper and paint my bathroom
strip a border and paint the downstairs bath
strip paper and border and paint the dining room and living room (huge, horrible pink roses)
paint the hall, the foyer (18 ft ceilings :crybaby) and what will be Sam's room
finish the painted border in the den that I started 5 yrs ago and the manwhore made me stop working on when I was pg
put up crown moulding

HAHAHAHAHAHAHHA! The joys of home ownership. The projects never end.

More snow.

Honestly now, I am really sick of winter. We woke up to about 1/4 inch of snow this morning, and I wasn't the least bit excited. I just want it to go away. I want to be warm. And being the planet loving, penny pinching whore that I am, I refuse to turn the heat up any, so my feet are cold. And I hate to wear socks, so my feet are cold. I know, I know, its all my fault.

The manwhore bought me a vase of flowers for V'day and they just got delivered today. He ordered them on Mon and they called on Wed and said they couldn't get them delivered. So, they were supposed to deliver them yesterday, but they didn't show up. But they are here now. And they are lovely. They are red carnations, which I actually love more than roses. Carnations smell nice, and most commercial roses have no smell these days.

El and Em have their kindy evaluations on Fri. I truly do not expect them to make it in The School, since we have been told through the grapevine that The School pretty much doesn't take any kids with summer birthdays unless they are little geniuses or something. But, we have learned about the kindy readyness program at our local school, and we are totally fine with them doing that and applying to The School next year.


Oh, we went and had a play date/ lunch with some of the women and kids from our multiples group. I am totally perplexed as to why we were out of the loop with them for so long, as obviously most of them are all still friends. This would be why I thought they didn't like me/us. But, they were all very happy to see us and we're invited to next month's playdate. And we had a nice time with them. It is always nice to see kids that are practically the same age as ours (one set of twins share dds birthday and the other two sets are only a week older) and see that dds are right on par with them. So, we'll see how it plays out.

And, I was surprised that no one has plans to enroll their kids in kindy next year. Well, the family with triplets is going to homeschool and they are starting that next year. But no one doing public school plans to send their kids to kindy. I wonder if we hadn't run into S if we would have just sent dds to kindy next year, of if the public school would have pointed us to the kindy readiness program.

Oh well, fate has a hand in things, I suppose.

Ok, that's it, I am sick of winter.

It is time for winter to be over. Done. Finished. Warm the fuck up even. I am tired of being cold. See, there is a reason that I live in the south. Winter is supposed to last about 2 weeks here. Less if you live further south. But it has been below average cold for weeks and weeks. The temps haven't gotten out of the 30s in about a month. Average for this time of year is 50.

My birthday is coming up, and in years past I have been able to go and sit in the sun in a pair of shorts on my birthday. Not gonna happen this year, I don't think.

I also think I am turning into a wuss. I used to walk almost everyday with the girls in the stoller, all winter long. I thought walking in 25 degree temps was invigorating. Yesterday, I was desperate for some fresh air and sunshine, so I threw the Samster in the stroller and went for a walk. I had to cut it short. I was freezing and he was freezing. I took my coat off and added it to his layers of blankets because he was so cold. And it was 35 degrees. So, I have become a wuss. Maybe losing weight has taken away a layer of insulation or something.

I'm getting sick of the clouds, too. It's sunny again today and supposed to be n the 40s. Actually, the weather bug tells me it is supposed to make 52 today, but that isn't what the talking head on tv says. At any rate, I think I will attempt another walk today. Gotta get that Vit D.


El is sick again. Poor bug. She had a fever of 103 yesterday. She's fine with a dose of motrin in her, though. Hopefully it won't hit the rest of us, too.

Warm weather usually brings an end to colds, too, and we've had one going around and around for about 3 weeks now. And that's gotten old, too.

Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, BEETLEJUICE!

Remember that movie where you conjured the guy by saying his name three times? I feel like I have done that to someone. Not that I think she is a scary half dead guy or anything. lol But, I was at the Y yesterday and I hear someone say my name. Now, I don't have many casual friends or even not so casual friends around here, and none that were members of the Y, so I thought. So I look around with a WTF look on my face and before I have time to register who it is, I am being hugged. Turns out, it was one of the women from the multiples class we took when I was pregnant with the girls.

As for the Beetlejuice comment, I haven't seen her in over 2 years and the last contact I had from her was an email about 18 months ago. But, oddly enough, I had a dream that I had run into her just last week. And then, for some reason, I was talking about her to my mother this week. So, it feels a bit like I conjured her. lol

I was even more surprised by the hug, then the 30 min conversation we had, plus 20 more minutes in the locker room after we were both done working out. She even went in the nursery to peep at Sam. And she said she would email me because her and some of the other moms from the group were planning to get together soon. Why was I surprised you ask? Well, I would have bet you a dollar that she and the rest of them didn't much like me. Hell, I would have bet you two dollars. lol Apparently I was mistaken. Either that, or she's a very good actor.

What's even odder is that they've been members of the Y for about as long as we have, I think, and we've never bumped into each other before.

So, we'll see. The manwhore and I would like to see them all again, if for no other reason than it is fun to see everyone's kids. I don't know that we'll ever be bosom buddies with them as we are in different places both religiously and in parenting techniques. But, it's mostly the religion thing. Still one of my bestest friends is fairly religious and we get along well enough. Of course, I don't see her very often, either. Living 2 hrs away isn't conducive to frequent visits.

Still, it would be nice to have at least a few friends around here.

Things, things and more things.

First thing, we had a blast playing in the snow last Friday. The kids loved it. Too bad it doesn't snow often enough for us to have snow pants and such, though, because they were freezing by the time we came in.

Oddly enough, we met more neighbors that morning than we have in the time we've lived here. lol Everyone was outside at the same time playing in the snow.

Thing 2. The manwhore got his b'day sex, but not in a hotel like he had planned. I think he felt bad about leaving the kids with mother, so we didn't. lol Instead we took advantage of my German brother not being at home and used his bed. He showed up Sunday morning before we got to wash the sheets, though. Whoops. lol

The third thing. Em's pediatrician called this morning. Her physical therapist has recommended that she have an MRI, so they have set one up. It won't be until April, since we have to go to Children's Hospital, but I'm already nervous. Honestly, I think it is more about what they might find than about the sedation. It's scary knowing your child has some kind of brain damage. And I keep wondering if it's not because she was a preemie. What if there is something else going on? I seriously just want to throw up right now, I'm so worried about it.

Another thing. I have been eating like crap the last week or so, and I can sure as fuck tell it with the scales. Dammit it all. We're planning a trip to the beach this summer, so hopefully that will add some motivation.

I think that's all the things. lol

It's the manwhore's birthday!

Happy 41st birthday to the manwhore. I used to think 41 was old, but he is anything but old. This will be the 7th year that we have celebrated birthdays together, and I hope we get at least 50 more. He is the love of my life, and I thank the forces that be for the odd set of circumstances that brought us together. It pays to have friends who join a dating service, apparently. lol I love you, my dear, and hope that it is a wonderful birthday for you!

And, mother nature has a present for him, as well. We have SNOW! You know, the white stuff that happens when it tries to rain but its really cold? I know, I know, its been so long since we've had any, its hard to remember what it looks like. It was supposed to snow yesterday, too, but it didn't. It all went south of us, when the weather guys were calling for most of it to go north. Pesky weather. lol I'm glad I'm not a meteorologist. lol Still, they closed all the schools around here, and looked mighty foolish, I might add. They are closed again, today, too. I think it is sympathy on the part of the schools. Its been years since we've had enough snow for the kids to play in, so I think they are jumping at the chance to let the kids out.

The boychild is being a cranky one this morning. He had to get some shots yesterday and apparently one of them made his legs hurt, and now he has a slight little fever. I hate hate hate having to get vaccines, but at the same time, I know they are important and I don't think they are a plot by THE MAN or anything. Still, its never fun to know your child doesn't feel well because of something you did.

Everyone else is still sleeping, and I'm having to restrain myself to keep from waking them up yelling "LOOK AT THE SNOW!!!"

I never thought I would be one of those parents.

Well, actually I am, depending which one of "those parents" you are talking about. No food dyes and as much organic and natural food as we can afford and very little processed food? Yep, I'm one of those parents. We recycle and compost, too.

I haven't jumped on the no tv bandwagon though. I should, but it is so easy to let them veg when it is cold and rainy out or they don't feel good, etc.

But, now I'm one of those parents that is sweating about getting her kids into the "right" school. You see, I have discovered that there is a charter school in my town (which is basically like a private school, except it is a public school, so no tuition, if you can get in). And this charter school is a fine arts academy for elementary kids. Foreign language in kindergarten. Dance, sculpture, music, all in kindergarten. Who wouldn't want their kids to go there? Obviously some people don't, but I do. I was big into the arts when I was in high school and college and would love love love for my kids to be able to start in elementary. Did I mention the string orchestra starting in 4th grade? Choir auditions open to all grades?

But, they have 60 slots for kindy, and usually about 200+ applications. First preference is to siblings of current students. 2nd is to county school students (which we are). 3rd to city school people for the next town over. If you make it through the screening, then you are put into a lottery. And I can't imagine what we would do if one dd got in and another didn't. Surely they would be tied together so if one got it, the other would, too? Since they are twins and all. I can only hope.

Applications are due at the end of the month and it will be March before we are notified if they get in.

Oh, and going against us, they prefer kids with a birthday after June 1st to consider waiting until the next year to apply. But, dds have had 2 yrs of preschool, and I think they would be bored in a 3rd year of it.

And now for something I would never mention on my mommy message board. Dh and I are pretty durned intelligent. I was in gifted programs in school and still bored out of my mind most of the time. I suspect our kids will be just as intelligent. I don't want them to be bored in school. I want them to be challenged and to be excited by it. I think this school would do that for them.

I want them to get in this school so bad I can't stand it. Whaahhhhh!

Men.

Don't you love how much emotion a woman can convey just by saying "Men!" Add the sigh or the eyeroll and you know all men are on her shit list. A smile and men are wonderful. lol

Tonight, my man is frustrating me. He needs to lose some weight. I am working on being less fat and I don't have all the health problems hanging over my head that he does. Besides, I like for him to sleep in the bed with me and I just can't deal with the snoring anymore. So, we've slept in separate beds for most of the last year.

But, I'm worrying myself sick that he is going to have a heart attack. He is so high risk for it. That, or he's going to develope type II diabetes. He has such a strong family history of that, I think it is probably inevitable unless he lose the weight soon.

He says he's trying to lose weight, and maybe he thinks he is, but to my eyes, it seems like he's not doing much about it except making lots of excuses. So, I want to kick his ass. Lovingly, of course.

Om, motherfucker.

So, I'm trying to become a more serene person. I really don't want my kids to look back and remember mommy yelling about every little thing. And I do yell, quite a bit actually. Way too much, in fact. So, I'm trying to cut down. Being serene seems like it would be a good thing. But, I'm an emotional person and easily frustrated. Om, indeed. Deep breaths, peaceful visualizations.

Speaking of om, my yoga class was overflowing tonight. Its the new year and everyone is trying to get healthy. Lovely. Now get the hell out of my class. lol MINE ALL MINE! lol Seriously though, the bendy little teenagers make me jealous. Of course, I was a bendy little teenager at one point, too. Now and I fat and in my 30s.

What really bruises the ol' ego is the old lady that walks the track that can smoke by me like I'm standing still. She wears tights and shorts, too, and she has smoking hot legs. I tell myself that its because she's taller than me, because I was walking fast enough that if I had gone any faster I would have been running and she still was passing me out.

Health, happiness and the flow of time.

So, it being a new year I am newly motivated to work on getting skinny again. I am most annoyed with myself that I let myself gain back about 10 lbs. So, I'm having to lose that first and then lose even more. I know that I should want to lose weight for health reasons, blah blah blah. But in all honesty, I want to look hot in a bikini again.

Now, I am fully aware that this may never happen without surgery, as I have been very fat, had twins while very fat and then had an almost 11 lbs baby while only slightly less fat. The skin on my stomach will never be the same again. But it would be nice for people to look at me fully clothed and think that I would look hot in a bikini.

Also, I would like to be able to shop in pretty much any store I want (or can afford) and know I can buy clothes off the rack. Right now, I'm in a 16, and most stores generally only carry through a 14, or sometimes a 12 unless they have a plus dept. Even then, the selection is smaller and usually looks like stuff my grandmother would be caught dead in.

I want to be able to pick out a hot cocktail dress for the Xmas party and it look good on me. Even the hot cocktail dress at Lane Giant this year looked like crap on me. I mean, what designer in her right mind designs a dress for fat chicks that is a halter top that no bra will work under, has an empire waist (think immediatley looking 6 months pg) and shows off the back (ie back fat)? It was horrible, and I wear the one of the smallest sizes LB carries. No offense to women who wear a 28, but no one that fat should be wearing that dress.

So, anyway, back to the healthy eating and getting more exercise. And, I have realized, that I feel so much better about myself when I am doing this. Not because of the weightloss, but because I just feel better. More energy, no heartburn, no bloated from too much salt, no guilt from eating stuff I know is bad for me.

Not to say I will never eat stuff that is bad for me ever again, but through the holidays it seemed like that was all I was eating.

So, it is making me happy to be back on track with my eating and lifestyle in general.


On to the flow of time. I have come to believe that there is something about having children that causes the flow of time to speed up. Remember when summers used to last forever? And Christmas took forever to arrive? That doesn't happen anymore. Things are over almost before I have a chance to enjoy them. The last vacation we took went by so fast that when we left, I didn't even feel like I had been on vacation at all. Hell, it went so fast we didn't even get many pictures of it.

The last thing that took forever for me was the 6 weeks I spent on hospital bedrest when I was pg with my girls. It seemed like it would never end, at the time. People would tell me that one day I would look back and wish I had time to lay in bed all day and I thought they were crazy.

Then I was in labor and those hours and the ones before I got to see dds were some of the longest of my life. I thought in that first day that the time before they came home would be unmeasurable, but it was over in a blink. Another blink and we were having their first birthday party. One minute they were tiny, 2.5 lbs preemies, then we were terrified as we brought them home weighing 4.5 lbs. And then they were sitting up and talking and even though they were late walking and meeting some milestones, it wasn't long before they weren't babies anymore.

Now they are pain in the butt 4 yr olds and I wonder every day where my babies went. I miss the times I spent holding them all day in the recliner. Now they aren't still long enough for more than a quick hug (unless they are trying to butter me up for some reason).

Adding ds has just speeded up time even more. I swear it was just yesterday that I found out I was pg and now he is 19 months old. He was a baby just a blink ago and now he's walking and talking and pitching temper tantrums.

I've been told it only gets worse when you have grandchildren. I can't imagine and I'm not even going to try. It goes by too fast now.


So, I believe that you have to hold onto every hug and as many moments as possible. I don't plan to enjoy temper tantrums and stomach viruses and scary dreams that have them crawling in my bed at 2am, but I do plan to try and remember that even the worst moments of parenting are fleeting. And the best moments just simply fly away.

Oh my god, the toys!

My parents just delivered the last of the Xmas cack to our house. We had so much stuff, we couldn't get it all in our van when we came home. rofl So, my parents loaded up their suv and brought the rest up. So now we have more toys to figure out where to put. Dh has declared that we have to go buy some storage unit or something to put it all.

I think I am declaring a moratorium on new toys until we move some of the old ones out. The only problem is, they actually play with most of their stuff, at least occasionally. So, it will have to be sneakily, while the chillens are at school. So far, they haven't missed anything I've gotten rid of in the past, so I figure they won't in the future. Mean mommy. lol

Ballet and brain damage

When someone is describing your child to you, brain damage is never in the list of things you want to hear them say. Even when the person keeps repeating that it is mild, it really doesn't matter because it can be overcome and it won't really affect her life. But, brain damage is indeed what the physical therapist has said about Em. We haven't had an MRI, yet, so it isn't a positive diagnosis. But, she has one of the tell-tale signs. The toes on her right foot curl under instead of out when her foot is rubbed.

The odds are, that it is because she was a preemie. The PT said it could be that they didn't get her intubated fast enough or something. I don't know. It was my understanding that she was only working too hard to breath. It could have been a minor brain bleed, but again, we were told the brain ultrasounds were all clear when they had them. So, we will probably never know what caused it. I do wonder, though, if whatever it is, is also the reason for her mild hearing loss.

But still, I have moments when I am wracked with guilt over it. Deep down, I blame myself for them being born premature. So, I blame myself and feel guilty for Em having problems. Everyone wants their babies to have the best start possible. Well, sane people do. And when they don't get that, well, here comes the guilt.

The thing is, though, that the PT says that Em will over come this. Already she runs pretty normal, when 6 months ago she couldn't run at all. And even if we did nothing in terms of PT, Em would still have a pretty normal life. She just wouldn't be very athletic. And lots of people aren't athletic.

But still the guilt. And it comes in moments when we sign her up for stuff that is athletic and will challenge her. Yesterday it was on the way to the first day of ballet class. We're going through the Y, so I wasn't expecting pressure to perform and for a nice laid back atmosphere. And it was. But with the PT's warning to make sure the teacher was all about positive reinforcement and such, I was worried. And guilty. And a little teary eyed. Wishing I hadn't done X, Y and Z when I was pregnant with them so maybe the outcome would have been different.

But, ballet was low key. They both had a blast. And quite honestly, I couldn't tell any difference in Em's abilities and El's or the other little girl's. They all seemed to be about the same to me.

So, ballet goes on. And it will help her physical therapy, too. Lots of working on balance and such. And hopefully the mommy guilt dies.

Birthday sex.

My poor husband. He has a birthday coming up. 41 big ones. His birthday request? For my parents to babysit and for us to get a hotel room. Not for the night, since he knows Sam isn't likely to do well away for the night. Just for the afternoon. So we can have sex. The poor guy wants to get laid bad enough that he wants to rent a hotel room.

Now, we are married people and renting a room shouldn't be necessary, so I'm feeling a little guilty here. I know we aren't lighting the fire too often. In fact, we doing good to manage it more than about 3 times a month. But I thought what we were missing in quantity, we were making up for in quality. Seriously. Sex has never been better.

We've done quantity before. Back when we were trying to get pg with the girls, we did the do it every other day until you know you are past ovulating thing. Only, for a lot of months, I wasn't ovulating at all, so there were many times when we were doing the deed with really being interested. After a couple of months of that, it quickly becomes a chore best gotten over with quickly.

I would much rather be at the point we are now, where when we do come together, it has meaning and mind rocking orgasms. Even if it isn't very often.

But apparently, he thinks it isn't enough. Actually, he said he always feels rushed, like we have to get done before Sam or one of the other kids wakes up. And yes, that sucks at times, but I know it won't be for long. I mean, I don't expect to ever totally relax with them in the house, so in about 20 yrs I expect to have totally relaxed, let it all hang out and express myself as loud as I please sex again.

So. Apparently we are having sex for his birthday.

Post holiday blues

One thing about all the holiday traveling and gift getting is the having to put it all away. Two suitcases and boxes of new toys await me, yet here I sit, delaying putting stuff away.

All in all, though, it was a wonderful holiday. Lots was given, lots was gotten, some less fortunate were helped out, so all was good.

Fil acted like an asshole, though, which was the only dark spot to the holiday. But I chose to ignore him, so I'm not going to talk about it any more.


One toy was a bit of a disappointment, though. The Barbie Dancing Princesses dance mat game. The graphics are so hard to see that I doubt they will ever learn any dance moves from it. I'm contemplating taking it back.

And the leap pad farm fridge magnet is going to drive me crazy. No fault of the toy, which is actually quite cute. But dds keep fighting over it and it's not even their toy. lol

Well, the house won't clean itself.