Thursday, July 30, 2009
We interrupt this blog...
for childbirth. #6 has decided to give into his mother's pleas and make his arrival within the next day or so. Please pray for a quick and easy labor and a healthy baby!
Monday, July 27, 2009
Why I Love Oklahoma
By JIM MYERS World Washington Bureau
Published: 7/25/2009 4:10 AM
Last Modified: 7/25/2009 4:29 AM
WASHINGTON — Armadillos, marshmallows and American liberty.
U.S. Sen. Tom Coburn managed to connect those three in a speech Thursday on the Senate floor to explain how he traps armadillos that visit his yard in Muskogee and what Americans could learn from their fate.
"They'll ruin a good yard 'cause they like grub worms,'' the Oklahoma Republican said in remarks on federal spending that could be described as vintage Coburn.
"So all you have to do is to lay a few marshmallows out and then put a marshmallow or two in the trap cage. You'll catch those suckers.''
According to Coburn, that's exactly what's happening to Americans and their liberty.
"We bite the first little bite off the marshmallow and say, 'Oh, that tastes good,' " he said.
" 'I got a little benefit here. There's no connection between what I've done and me receiving this benefit.' "
And, Coburn continued, Americans then take another bite of the marshmallow and then another.
"Pretty soon, that armadillo fellow, he's in my cage. I got him. And the reason I got him is he kept thinking he could get something for nothing. He kept thinking, 'Man, that's a sweet marshmallow.'"
So, what happens to the armadillos that Coburn traps at his home?
"One of two things,'' the physican-turned-politician explained.
"I either put 'em in the back of my pickup and take 'em 10 or 15 miles away from my property or I shoot 'em.
"That's exactly what's going to happen to us,'' Coburn said. "We are either going to be carried far way from what we know, we trust and believe in to be right or we are going to be extinct as a nation.''
Published: 7/25/2009 4:10 AM
Last Modified: 7/25/2009 4:29 AM
WASHINGTON — Armadillos, marshmallows and American liberty.
U.S. Sen. Tom Coburn managed to connect those three in a speech Thursday on the Senate floor to explain how he traps armadillos that visit his yard in Muskogee and what Americans could learn from their fate.
"They'll ruin a good yard 'cause they like grub worms,'' the Oklahoma Republican said in remarks on federal spending that could be described as vintage Coburn.
"So all you have to do is to lay a few marshmallows out and then put a marshmallow or two in the trap cage. You'll catch those suckers.''
According to Coburn, that's exactly what's happening to Americans and their liberty.
"We bite the first little bite off the marshmallow and say, 'Oh, that tastes good,' " he said.
" 'I got a little benefit here. There's no connection between what I've done and me receiving this benefit.' "
And, Coburn continued, Americans then take another bite of the marshmallow and then another.
"Pretty soon, that armadillo fellow, he's in my cage. I got him. And the reason I got him is he kept thinking he could get something for nothing. He kept thinking, 'Man, that's a sweet marshmallow.'"
So, what happens to the armadillos that Coburn traps at his home?
"One of two things,'' the physican-turned-politician explained.
"I either put 'em in the back of my pickup and take 'em 10 or 15 miles away from my property or I shoot 'em.
"That's exactly what's going to happen to us,'' Coburn said. "We are either going to be carried far way from what we know, we trust and believe in to be right or we are going to be extinct as a nation.''
Late Night Benedictions
3:00 AM
The lightning flashed and the thunder shook our windows. Then our bedroom door slowly opened and the silhouette of #3 paused in the open doorway, tousled and sleepy, wearing his too-big pajamas and clutching his pillow. My wild child reduced to a mere slip of a boy.
It crashed again and he flew to my side of the bed. "Can I sleep with you?" Without waiting for a reply, he scrambled over me and settled into the empty space between his father and myself.
His warm little body cuddled up next to mine and he whispered softly to himself and then sighed in a mixture of tiredness, pleasure and comfort. I breathed deeply of the tangy smell of little boy and smiled to myself.
The thunder boomed again and the windows rattled. "Still scared?" I asked.
"Uh-uh." He shook his head and whispered, "I have the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit and you. Why would I be scared now?"
The lightning flashed and the thunder shook our windows. Then our bedroom door slowly opened and the silhouette of #3 paused in the open doorway, tousled and sleepy, wearing his too-big pajamas and clutching his pillow. My wild child reduced to a mere slip of a boy.
It crashed again and he flew to my side of the bed. "Can I sleep with you?" Without waiting for a reply, he scrambled over me and settled into the empty space between his father and myself.
His warm little body cuddled up next to mine and he whispered softly to himself and then sighed in a mixture of tiredness, pleasure and comfort. I breathed deeply of the tangy smell of little boy and smiled to myself.
The thunder boomed again and the windows rattled. "Still scared?" I asked.
"Uh-uh." He shook his head and whispered, "I have the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit and you. Why would I be scared now?"
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Throwing in the Towel
I'm done. The spinny sidebar guy may not agree, but I am officially done with this whole pregnant thing. Any ideas on coaxing a reluctant boy to vacate the only home he's ever known would be appreciated.
My only requests, no castor oil...ugh. Been there done that. It works, but it feels like being on the brink of death first. And while I understand that what "gets them in, gets them out", the Computer Guy is less than willing. I believe he once described it as "Attempting to scale Mount Everest naked."
I think I'll just leave you with that lovely mental image. It's a gift from me to you. You're welcome.
My only requests, no castor oil...ugh. Been there done that. It works, but it feels like being on the brink of death first. And while I understand that what "gets them in, gets them out", the Computer Guy is less than willing. I believe he once described it as "Attempting to scale Mount Everest naked."
I think I'll just leave you with that lovely mental image. It's a gift from me to you. You're welcome.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Umm...Yeah. I Just Don't Want To
**Warning--Pregnancy makes me mean. Late pregnancy makes me honest.**
I'm going to say it out loud. What you all think, but are too nice to say to people. Deep breath...
No. I don't want to talk to your four year old on the phone. When I call to discuss something of a serious nature, I don't find it charming or particularly cute that your little monster is screaming at the top of his lungs to talk to his "Auntie". (Am I even related to this kid? I demand a recount!) My idea of an enjoyable conversation does not involve listening to someone who doesn't speak English well enough to be understood on the phone tell me about pooping in the potty.
Guess what, kiddo? Everybody poops, and most people don't want to discuss it. To quote that cute boy from high school, "I don't like you that way."
I don't care that my spending "just 30 seconds" on the phone with him will make your life easier. I really don't. The truth is that if I wanted to talk to a 4 year old then I would have called a 4 year old. I didn't. Interpret that for yourself.
If you can't talk because your child is a monstrous beast and you can't control him for the 10 minutes I needed to discuss that important thing with you, that's not my problem. I think that's why God invented email. Be grown-up enough to admit that you can't hear what I'm saying over your little treasure's dulcet tones and request that I call back (tell me when nap time is) or ask me just to email it to you.
Yes, this makes it lonely for you, but that's not my problem. I'm tired of being nice to the children of people who aren't considerate enough to tell junior to shut up. That's just the way I feel about it. No apologies. Buy duct tape for his mouth, go into the other room, or call me back when he's sleeping; because I don't take that from my children, so I'm certainly not taking it from yours.
I'm going to say it out loud. What you all think, but are too nice to say to people. Deep breath...
No. I don't want to talk to your four year old on the phone. When I call to discuss something of a serious nature, I don't find it charming or particularly cute that your little monster is screaming at the top of his lungs to talk to his "Auntie". (Am I even related to this kid? I demand a recount!) My idea of an enjoyable conversation does not involve listening to someone who doesn't speak English well enough to be understood on the phone tell me about pooping in the potty.
Guess what, kiddo? Everybody poops, and most people don't want to discuss it. To quote that cute boy from high school, "I don't like you that way."
I don't care that my spending "just 30 seconds" on the phone with him will make your life easier. I really don't. The truth is that if I wanted to talk to a 4 year old then I would have called a 4 year old. I didn't. Interpret that for yourself.
If you can't talk because your child is a monstrous beast and you can't control him for the 10 minutes I needed to discuss that important thing with you, that's not my problem. I think that's why God invented email. Be grown-up enough to admit that you can't hear what I'm saying over your little treasure's dulcet tones and request that I call back (tell me when nap time is) or ask me just to email it to you.
Yes, this makes it lonely for you, but that's not my problem. I'm tired of being nice to the children of people who aren't considerate enough to tell junior to shut up. That's just the way I feel about it. No apologies. Buy duct tape for his mouth, go into the other room, or call me back when he's sleeping; because I don't take that from my children, so I'm certainly not taking it from yours.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Did You Bring Your Eye Bleach?
Good. You're going to need it for the Crescat's Ugly Church Art Contest. Where else can you see such monstrosities...I mean fine examples of late 20the century religious art? Want a taste? You asked for it.
I'm not sure what it's supposed to be, but the tag says St Stephen in Vienna. I think I need to do some research because this looks female to me. Worse yet, the poor dear has dandruff. I know because she left her Head & Shoulders behind.
(Yes, I really had to go there. Stupid. Juvenile. Oh, so necessary.)
I'm not sure what it's supposed to be, but the tag says St Stephen in Vienna. I think I need to do some research because this looks female to me. Worse yet, the poor dear has dandruff. I know because she left her Head & Shoulders behind.
(Yes, I really had to go there. Stupid. Juvenile. Oh, so necessary.)
Sunday, July 19, 2009
I Wish I Were This Cool
Some people (and I'm not naming names here) lose their tempers and rant on their blogs, or scream at children, or kick little helpless puppies.* Other people are much cooler and write songs and make videos for YouTube that go viral and they get to go on the Today Show and they become an overnight success. I wish I were that cool. I'm not.
* No children or small dogs were injured in the writing of this blog post.
* No children or small dogs were injured in the writing of this blog post.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
It's not a feminist issue unless you want to kill someone
Nearly 10 years ago I had a C-Section. #2 was born 10 weeks premature and weighed in at 3 lbs 1 oz. He was shockingly small and had to fight incredibly hard just live. I am grateful for the surgery that brought him into the world and helped to keep him alive. That doesn't mean I want another one just because I've already had one. I prefer to have my babies the old-fashioned way, thank you very much.
Most women don't get that option. They don't live close enough to a hospital which will allow them a vaginal delivery after a c-section. The doctors are willing, the patients would prefer it, but some bureaucrat over at some malpractice insurance company decided that doctors and patients should have no say about their own care.
Funny. I thought that was the mantra of the neo-feminist movement. I thought that reproductive choice was what NOW was all about. Silly me. I sent them emails and called them when I was pregnant with #5 and was told that a c-section had become mandatory for me. My OB cried when he told me that he had no choice. No matter how he personally felt about the whole thing, he would have to cut me.
I decided to play on the Liberal team. It was possible that a conservative mom of 5 and a radical feminist could work together, wasn't it? Surely this, the choice of method of delivering a baby was right up there as far as women's issues go. What could be more uniquely female than giving birth?
Silly, stupid, misguided me. I called the local and national offices of the National Organization of Women and Citizen's for Choice. I'm a woman and I'm talking about a "woman's right to choose" here. Not the usual "choice" they champion, but an important one.
The right to choose a vaginal birth is not a women's issue. I know because they've told me so. Repeatedly. The ACLU agrees with them, so don't bother going to them for help. Women have no choice but to be gutted like a fish unless they can find a hospital and a healthcare professional allowed who the insurance companies will allow to deliver a baby the vaginally.
How is this not a "choice" issue? The woman I spoke to at NOW told me that I had gotten pregnant knowing that a "forced c-section" was a probability and now I had to live with the consequences of that decision. I'm not sure what it was that made her so unsympathetic, that I was having my 5th child or that I didn't want to kill it. It doesn't matter. I've learned the truth about feminism. Pregnancy isn't a feminist problem unless you want the little bugger to die, if you want him to live then you're on your own.
Most women don't get that option. They don't live close enough to a hospital which will allow them a vaginal delivery after a c-section. The doctors are willing, the patients would prefer it, but some bureaucrat over at some malpractice insurance company decided that doctors and patients should have no say about their own care.
Funny. I thought that was the mantra of the neo-feminist movement. I thought that reproductive choice was what NOW was all about. Silly me. I sent them emails and called them when I was pregnant with #5 and was told that a c-section had become mandatory for me. My OB cried when he told me that he had no choice. No matter how he personally felt about the whole thing, he would have to cut me.
I decided to play on the Liberal team. It was possible that a conservative mom of 5 and a radical feminist could work together, wasn't it? Surely this, the choice of method of delivering a baby was right up there as far as women's issues go. What could be more uniquely female than giving birth?
Silly, stupid, misguided me. I called the local and national offices of the National Organization of Women and Citizen's for Choice. I'm a woman and I'm talking about a "woman's right to choose" here. Not the usual "choice" they champion, but an important one.
The right to choose a vaginal birth is not a women's issue. I know because they've told me so. Repeatedly. The ACLU agrees with them, so don't bother going to them for help. Women have no choice but to be gutted like a fish unless they can find a hospital and a healthcare professional allowed who the insurance companies will allow to deliver a baby the vaginally.
How is this not a "choice" issue? The woman I spoke to at NOW told me that I had gotten pregnant knowing that a "forced c-section" was a probability and now I had to live with the consequences of that decision. I'm not sure what it was that made her so unsympathetic, that I was having my 5th child or that I didn't want to kill it. It doesn't matter. I've learned the truth about feminism. Pregnancy isn't a feminist problem unless you want the little bugger to die, if you want him to live then you're on your own.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
My Son Is Not Your Unsaved Friend!
Please allow me to get something off of my chest for a moment. If this isn't about you, then please feel free to mentally change the "you" to the pronoun of your choice.
I don't personally care whether you consider Catholics to be Christians or not. I don't care how well meaning your invitation for my children to "come to church with my kids" is. I don't personally give a rat's patoot as to how much fun your children have at "kid's church" on Wednesday nights. I think that what you are doing is wrong and not a little bit evil.
I am on to your AWANA program which encourages children to bring an "unsaved friend" to church with them. I know your child earns points and prizes for each friend they manage to bring along. I have no interest in helping him earn those prizes and I think your theology is seriously flawed.
It is wrong to take a small child and poison his mind against the faith of his parents. It undermines the very security of his whole world when you tell him that the Truth his parents have raised him in is leading him to Hell. How dare you attempt to place a wedge between my husband and myself and our child and use the Word of God as the mallet to drive it in. Evil, evil, evil.
I appreciate that you think you have his best interests at heart, that you only want him to know God as you know Him, and that you see me as the obstacle standing in your way. You're right!!!! I am that mountain. If you are seriously worried about my child's immortal soul, then you need to come to me. Do not attempt to destroy our family, but rather, approach the people in charge and try to persuade us all. If you have something to say to my child which can not be said in my presence, then perhaps you need to be doing some serious soul-searching and ask yourself what is wrong with your message that it is not fit for my ears.
My children are not now, nor will they ever be a party to your sick little heretical game. If you want my son to come anywhere near your church, then you better be prepared for his Mama to come, too. I'll be bringing my Bible, my Rosary, the One True Faith, and the entire Communion of Saints along with me. Still interested? No? Then BACK OFF!
I don't personally care whether you consider Catholics to be Christians or not. I don't care how well meaning your invitation for my children to "come to church with my kids" is. I don't personally give a rat's patoot as to how much fun your children have at "kid's church" on Wednesday nights. I think that what you are doing is wrong and not a little bit evil.
I am on to your AWANA program which encourages children to bring an "unsaved friend" to church with them. I know your child earns points and prizes for each friend they manage to bring along. I have no interest in helping him earn those prizes and I think your theology is seriously flawed.
It is wrong to take a small child and poison his mind against the faith of his parents. It undermines the very security of his whole world when you tell him that the Truth his parents have raised him in is leading him to Hell. How dare you attempt to place a wedge between my husband and myself and our child and use the Word of God as the mallet to drive it in. Evil, evil, evil.
I appreciate that you think you have his best interests at heart, that you only want him to know God as you know Him, and that you see me as the obstacle standing in your way. You're right!!!! I am that mountain. If you are seriously worried about my child's immortal soul, then you need to come to me. Do not attempt to destroy our family, but rather, approach the people in charge and try to persuade us all. If you have something to say to my child which can not be said in my presence, then perhaps you need to be doing some serious soul-searching and ask yourself what is wrong with your message that it is not fit for my ears.
My children are not now, nor will they ever be a party to your sick little heretical game. If you want my son to come anywhere near your church, then you better be prepared for his Mama to come, too. I'll be bringing my Bible, my Rosary, the One True Faith, and the entire Communion of Saints along with me. Still interested? No? Then BACK OFF!
Friday, July 10, 2009
I Would Gather Children
Some would gather money
Along the path of life
Some would gather roses,
And rest from worldly strife.
But I would gather children
From among the thorns of sin,
I would seek a golden curl,
And a freckled, toothless grin.
For money cannot enter
In that land of endless day,
And roses that are gathered
Soon will wilt along the way.
But oh, the laughing children,
As I cross the sunset sea,
And the gates swing wide to heaven,
I can take them in with me!
~Author Unknown
Along the path of life
Some would gather roses,
And rest from worldly strife.
But I would gather children
From among the thorns of sin,
I would seek a golden curl,
And a freckled, toothless grin.
For money cannot enter
In that land of endless day,
And roses that are gathered
Soon will wilt along the way.
But oh, the laughing children,
As I cross the sunset sea,
And the gates swing wide to heaven,
I can take them in with me!
~Author Unknown
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Random Mom Facts
Updated!
I want to bite the children's heads off. In other words, nothing much has changed so I thought we'd play a round of "One of these things is not true."
1. I have a scar on my ankle from a rope burn I got when a cow dragged me across a corn field.
True
I was 11 and moving my grandmother's pet calf from grazing under one tree to graze under another when she got spooked and took off running. My foot was caught in a loop of rope and I got dragged through the corn field until she calmed down. Too bad I didn't think to let go of the rope.
2. My earliest memory is watching some guy bash in the head of a snake with a rock. It never bothered me, I thought the snake had it coming. I think I was about 3.
True
We lived in Subic Bay in the Philippines when my Dad was in the Navy. Our house was right across the street from the jungle. My earliest memory is of the guard chasing a very large venomous snake across the street and throwing a rock at it and ultimately killing it. I remember being more shocked that the rock had dented the neighbor's VW Beetle than that someone would chase down and kill a snake.
3. I once drove for 3 miles with a cop chasing me. I couldn't hear his sirens because the top was down and the radio was blasting.
True
Atascosa County, Texas. It's hard to hear the sirens with the top down at 80 MPH.
4. I carry Super Glue in my purse for emergency first aid. It's less traumatic than stitches.
True
A little tip I got from our family doctor. You can glue most cuts back together unless they're bleeding profusely.
5. I was our Junior High School mascot, a Bobcat. The head was hot and stinky.
True
What more is there to say?
6. I didn't wear a wedding veil because I thought it would be hypocritical.
True
After living with my fiance for a year and a half, I thought that wearing a sign of purity and virginity would be a bit much.
7. I have a small tattoo of Tigger that matches my college roommate's tattoo of Winnie the Pooh. If she'll show hers, I'll show mine.
This is the FALSE one! My college roommate did have a Pooh tattoo, and I did go to get a Tigger one. I chicken out when the girl in the chair, who was getting a spider tat on her skull, said "It's so cool. You can feel the skin rip when they do the straight lines."
8. I had a pet snake named "Herman" who quickly found a new home when he got out of his cage and curled up on my chest as I slept. Waking up to a snake on yuor chest is not recommended by the American Heart Association.
True
A snake named Herman who scared years off of my life. Puppies are fun to cuddle up with. Snakes are not.
9. The only reason I got to keep my first dog was because she showed up on the 4th of July so my parents couldn't call the pound.
True
We named her Sparkle, and she was the best dog I've ever had.
10. I lived for 4 months on Lay's potato chips drenched in lemon juice. It may sound gross, but their new Limon flavor tastes pretty much the same.
True
First baby. Weird cravings. Don't knock it until you've tried it. I still eat this from time to time.
I want to bite the children's heads off. In other words, nothing much has changed so I thought we'd play a round of "One of these things is not true."
1. I have a scar on my ankle from a rope burn I got when a cow dragged me across a corn field.
True
I was 11 and moving my grandmother's pet calf from grazing under one tree to graze under another when she got spooked and took off running. My foot was caught in a loop of rope and I got dragged through the corn field until she calmed down. Too bad I didn't think to let go of the rope.
2. My earliest memory is watching some guy bash in the head of a snake with a rock. It never bothered me, I thought the snake had it coming. I think I was about 3.
True
We lived in Subic Bay in the Philippines when my Dad was in the Navy. Our house was right across the street from the jungle. My earliest memory is of the guard chasing a very large venomous snake across the street and throwing a rock at it and ultimately killing it. I remember being more shocked that the rock had dented the neighbor's VW Beetle than that someone would chase down and kill a snake.
3. I once drove for 3 miles with a cop chasing me. I couldn't hear his sirens because the top was down and the radio was blasting.
True
Atascosa County, Texas. It's hard to hear the sirens with the top down at 80 MPH.
4. I carry Super Glue in my purse for emergency first aid. It's less traumatic than stitches.
True
A little tip I got from our family doctor. You can glue most cuts back together unless they're bleeding profusely.
5. I was our Junior High School mascot, a Bobcat. The head was hot and stinky.
True
What more is there to say?
6. I didn't wear a wedding veil because I thought it would be hypocritical.
True
After living with my fiance for a year and a half, I thought that wearing a sign of purity and virginity would be a bit much.
7. I have a small tattoo of Tigger that matches my college roommate's tattoo of Winnie the Pooh. If she'll show hers, I'll show mine.
This is the FALSE one! My college roommate did have a Pooh tattoo, and I did go to get a Tigger one. I chicken out when the girl in the chair, who was getting a spider tat on her skull, said "It's so cool. You can feel the skin rip when they do the straight lines."
8. I had a pet snake named "Herman" who quickly found a new home when he got out of his cage and curled up on my chest as I slept. Waking up to a snake on yuor chest is not recommended by the American Heart Association.
True
A snake named Herman who scared years off of my life. Puppies are fun to cuddle up with. Snakes are not.
9. The only reason I got to keep my first dog was because she showed up on the 4th of July so my parents couldn't call the pound.
True
We named her Sparkle, and she was the best dog I've ever had.
10. I lived for 4 months on Lay's potato chips drenched in lemon juice. It may sound gross, but their new Limon flavor tastes pretty much the same.
True
First baby. Weird cravings. Don't knock it until you've tried it. I still eat this from time to time.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
It's the Final Countdown
Here's my prediction: I'm 3 weeks from having this baby. Don't listen to the little floaty guy in the sidebar, listen to the voice of experience. I have no patience and have turned into an absolute lunatic raving b*%&h. It's time to have a baby!
I hate everyone, and the more I should love them, the more they are p*$$ing me off. I'm normally a pretty happy and content person, but as of last night I'm just looking for a head to bite off. Fair warning, if you are coming for a visit, you might want to throw raw meat first to distract me. I've spent the last hour ripping the noggins off of Barbie dolls. I hate her. Who does she think she is with her perky boobs abd her little waist?
I wish I were one of those nesting moms who bring their babies home to sparkling clean houses and freshly laundered sheets. I bring the new guy home to a family that breathes a sigh of relief because nobody actually died.
#2 fell off his bike last night and scraped his foot in four or five places. He blubbered and whined about how much it hurt. (He seems to feel pain more than most people and seeing blood multiplies the pain.) The Computer Guy carried him inside just in time for me to tear into him about "Where the heck were the shoes I told you to wear?" My sweet husband (he really is going straight to heaven with no Purgatorial side-trip) said, "I think he just needs a hug from his mom." I patted his head, because really it was that or shake him until he stopped wailing. I rolled my eyes at my son and told him to knock it off because, after all, "worse things happen at sea."
I had to walk out of the bathroom. Even I knew I was hovering close to a line there. At the dinner table 30 minutes later (that's right a whole half hour of his crying and my teeth grinding later), I looked at my son and asked exactly what the problem was. "It hurts so much," he sobbed.
I raised an eyebrow and replied," I've had to get 5 living human beings out of my body. Do you really want to talk pain with me?" That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I'm up for Mother of the Year. I'm a shoe-in, no?
You get the gist. I've lost my mind. The alien with the old man name needs to get out. I don't care about due dates and blah, blah, blah. Based upon past history, I morph into Mrs. Hyde about 3 weeks before the new guy arrives. Stop by and visit if you want, but bring raw meat or new Barbies, and enter at your own risk. You've been warned.
I hate everyone, and the more I should love them, the more they are p*$$ing me off. I'm normally a pretty happy and content person, but as of last night I'm just looking for a head to bite off. Fair warning, if you are coming for a visit, you might want to throw raw meat first to distract me. I've spent the last hour ripping the noggins off of Barbie dolls. I hate her. Who does she think she is with her perky boobs abd her little waist?
I wish I were one of those nesting moms who bring their babies home to sparkling clean houses and freshly laundered sheets. I bring the new guy home to a family that breathes a sigh of relief because nobody actually died.
#2 fell off his bike last night and scraped his foot in four or five places. He blubbered and whined about how much it hurt. (He seems to feel pain more than most people and seeing blood multiplies the pain.) The Computer Guy carried him inside just in time for me to tear into him about "Where the heck were the shoes I told you to wear?" My sweet husband (he really is going straight to heaven with no Purgatorial side-trip) said, "I think he just needs a hug from his mom." I patted his head, because really it was that or shake him until he stopped wailing. I rolled my eyes at my son and told him to knock it off because, after all, "worse things happen at sea."
I had to walk out of the bathroom. Even I knew I was hovering close to a line there. At the dinner table 30 minutes later (that's right a whole half hour of his crying and my teeth grinding later), I looked at my son and asked exactly what the problem was. "It hurts so much," he sobbed.
I raised an eyebrow and replied," I've had to get 5 living human beings out of my body. Do you really want to talk pain with me?" That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I'm up for Mother of the Year. I'm a shoe-in, no?
You get the gist. I've lost my mind. The alien with the old man name needs to get out. I don't care about due dates and blah, blah, blah. Based upon past history, I morph into Mrs. Hyde about 3 weeks before the new guy arrives. Stop by and visit if you want, but bring raw meat or new Barbies, and enter at your own risk. You've been warned.
Monday, July 6, 2009
#4 is 5
I wrote this a week and a half ago, but debated over whether or not to publish it. It's not that we rejoice any less over the birth of our fourth child than we do over the others, I was trying to respect her wishes.
#4 wants to be invisible. That's the super power she would choose if someone let her pick. To be able to walk completely unnoticed through a crowded room is her greatest dream. The perfect day for her would be to spend it coloring and singing quietly to herself as the rest of the world looks the other way.
This makes no sense to me. This shy and simple soul is burdened with a mother who has never met a stranger in her life; I look at the world and see only potential friends. How can my mini-me and I be complete opposites?
Quiet and self-amusing, it is easy to forget that she is even in the house, but when she is gone it is impossible to ignore her absence. She is the calm balance to the chaos of the rest of us. Slow and deliberate and impossibly sure of her opinions, she just doesn't feel the need to share them all the time. A sweet and tiny face dominated by laughing eyes and the honest emotion that shines through them. Calm and caring and possessing a loving heart and a generous spirit, she is an amazingly kind person in the tiniest package.
Our fairy girl. Spinning and humming and twirling her way through life. Hoping not to be seen, but impossible to forget. If you see our sweet and sparkling girl and hear her giggling, be sure to admire her from a distance. Just like the magic of fairies, the magic of #4 hides at the approach of outsiders. Just trust her mother. The magic is there, and if you are patient enough, and just a little bit lucky, she may choose to share it with you, and then you will be fortunate indeed.
#4 wants to be invisible. That's the super power she would choose if someone let her pick. To be able to walk completely unnoticed through a crowded room is her greatest dream. The perfect day for her would be to spend it coloring and singing quietly to herself as the rest of the world looks the other way.
This makes no sense to me. This shy and simple soul is burdened with a mother who has never met a stranger in her life; I look at the world and see only potential friends. How can my mini-me and I be complete opposites?
Quiet and self-amusing, it is easy to forget that she is even in the house, but when she is gone it is impossible to ignore her absence. She is the calm balance to the chaos of the rest of us. Slow and deliberate and impossibly sure of her opinions, she just doesn't feel the need to share them all the time. A sweet and tiny face dominated by laughing eyes and the honest emotion that shines through them. Calm and caring and possessing a loving heart and a generous spirit, she is an amazingly kind person in the tiniest package.
Our fairy girl. Spinning and humming and twirling her way through life. Hoping not to be seen, but impossible to forget. If you see our sweet and sparkling girl and hear her giggling, be sure to admire her from a distance. Just like the magic of fairies, the magic of #4 hides at the approach of outsiders. Just trust her mother. The magic is there, and if you are patient enough, and just a little bit lucky, she may choose to share it with you, and then you will be fortunate indeed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)