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