Doomed to a life in cyberspace!

I was informed yesterday that one of my best friends is having to move her family to Minneapolis/ St. Paul. A pretty far cry from Texas! I am excited for her because it is a great opportunity for her husband to advance in his company. And I have learned that once you make that commitment to be a stay-at-home mom and you leave your career behind, you have to buck up and be prepared to support your hubby any way possible. After all, he is the one affording you the lifestyle to stay at home and raise your children.

I am bummed beyond belief, as I really felt like we were settling into a good friendship. I am one of those people that has many aquaintances, but few friends. Ever since the birth of my son 5 years ago and the move to Texas I have led a somewhat hermitic lifestyle. My hubby had "insta-friends" here and they were nice enough to introduce me to people, but most of these women do not have kids and therefore it has been hard to cultivate relationships with them. I'm not saying that I can't be friends with people who don't have kids, but I do have to admit that childless people don't even remotely understand the constraints that children put on your life. Or maybe they do and that is why they rarely include me in spontaneous shopping trips on Saturday afternoons. It is just assumed that I am not available because of the kids. Long story short...I just find it easier to be around other mothers. But it has been hard clique-ing with many of the other moms in my area. As it turns out, Texas is a pretty conservative place and many homeschooling moms here have chosen that path because of their Christian values. I am pretty damn far from that end of the spectrum. I completely respect their values and I enjoy seeing them and visiting with them at park days for the kids, but they aren't necessarily the women I would seek to hang out with on a regular basis. However, my friend that is moving, she's different, open-minded, well-traveled, boisterous, outgoing, and most of all...very much like me. Not only in her interests, but in her situation. She too is a bit of a hermit and understands how hard it is to put yourself out there and to actually be YOURSELF. And we had found that we could be OURSELVES around one another and it was quite exhilarating! Not to mention the fact that our children ADORE each other. You just couldn't get a much better match for a friendship!

But alas...she has to go. And I will, of course, continue to correspond with her via the internet, along with my dear friend in OR, my college friend in NY, my three best friends from high school in NM and my dear friend in MI. I am doomed to a life of cyber-relations! So while most friends are out having drinks together on Friday nights, I will be at my desk, typing emails to my very best friends in far away places! I will just hope that she doesn't forget me and time and distance don't make our friendship fade, because I will miss her and her family very much! Good luck girl and give Minnesota hell, aye?!

Calgon....take me away!

It is now 11am and I have been under siege from my 5 y.o. since 8am! Under siege you ask? Yes, I have been bombarded by noise for HOURS!!! First it was his L-Max, which has to be run at maximum volume (that's what the MAX stands for!), then came the i-Dog blaring guitar licks that seem straight out of a Joan Jett rock anthem. I implored him to turn off both of these things as we have a new rule in the house that NO noisy toys are allowed before 9am or after 9pm. So he was willing to follow the rules and shut them down. But who says you have to have electronic devices to make noise?!? Then came the harmonica, the recorder, his sister's doggy xylophone, his toy drum, the list goes on. So I decide...A-ha! bathtime! That will quiet him down for sure. Yeah right. There is splashing, singing, bird calls, toys banging on the side of the tub...did I mention the impressive repertoire of farty noises! He finally exits the tub, it is now after 9 and he knows that noisy toys are legal now, but instead opts to go for his little video camera. This is nice. He is walking around quietly, at first, filming various and assundry items, then it starts, the singing. But here's the kicker...not only is he singing (at the top of his lungs mind you) but he is recording these squawkings!!! So now I am treated to the original version, followed by replay after replay after replay!! Now I will admit that the first time or two hearing my son belt out David Lee Roth's version of "Tobacco Road" is nothing short of hysterical, but after the 6th, 7th, 12th time it is enough to turn any sane person into a trembling, drooling, incoherent mess! So here I sit in my closet, wrapped tightly with a polar fleece sweater, rocking back and forth, sucking my thumb, wondering why moon pies are so light and fluffy.

Sins of the father

I should have known from the beginning that it was futile. I saw nothing that proved to me that he was capable of stepping up and doing the right thing, but I did it anyway. I allowed my father to be a part of my son's life. I thought it would be different. I know I can't change all the bullshit between me and him, but I thought, since he had ALWAYS hoped for a boy and never gotten one, that he would somehow miraculously love my son the way he was never able to love me. A foolish girl's dream, now a nightmare.

My dad can be a wonderfully funny and charming man. My son fell for him with every ounce of his little heart. And I did everything I could to cultivate a strong, healthy relationship between them only to watch it all blow up in my face. But this time I wasn't the casualty, this time it was my son. Due to alot of bullshit that I won't get into here, I had to step back from my father and his crazy circumstance. His life is poison to me and my family, alcoholism, depression, a succubus wife that smiles to your face and stabs you in the back when you look away. But worst of all, the absolute lack of effort on his part to see his grandson. As of 3 days ago, it has been over a year since he saw my son (or me for that matter) and it was 7 months before that. Not to mention the fact that he has yet to try to contact me to see his granddaughter who is now 7 months old!

I will absolutely admit that it breaks my heart that once he and my mother divorced I was out of sight out of mind. He didn't want a relationship with me to save his life. In fact, I didn't see or speak to the man for 7 years. Then, out of some weird sense of obligation to my grandmother (who I adore) I made the move to try to repair my relationship with my father. Things seemed to go OK for awhile and I was optimistic. Then I had my son and we actually moved to the same city as my father about 8 months later. I knew that things were still a little shaky between us, but I didn't want to deny him an opportunity to know his grandson. I now regret that decision with EVERY fiber of my being!!

After the baby was put down for the night, I came in to read bedtime stories to my son and to be honest, I'm not exactly sure how the conversation started but he asked about his Pa-Pa and why he never called anymore. I don't want to lie to him, yet I don't want to hurt his feelings, so I explained that I didn't know why he didn't call anymore but that if his Pa-Pa wanted to reach us, he knew our number. "Will he ever come to see me again?" I told him I didn't know. Then the kicker, "Did I do something to make him not love me anymore?" (with tears in his little eyes, mind you). I scooped him up in my arms and cried too and told him that he ABSOLUTELY did nothing wrong. I tried to explain that it isn't that his Pa-Pa doesn't love him, he just has no clue how to love anyone, including himself. Then I did my best to explain how there are SO many other people in his life that love him. And to hit that point home, I got the phone and called his other grandfather who would go to the ends of the earth to see my little boy. After talking to his Poppa, he went to bed a happy, little boy again. My son is so lucky to have 3 other grandparents that adore him and his baby sister!

But the fact remains, I allowed this crap to happen. I opened the door and allowed that man into my life and worst of all into my son's. The baby, well she's lucky, I saw the light shortly after she was born and he's never made the effort to see her anyway. She'll never miss what she's never known. But my son remembers. He remembers laughing with his Pa-Pa, he remembers playing in the yard with Pa-Pa's dogs, he remembers having Pa-Pa try to "get some belly-button". It kills me to look into his big, blue eyes and see the hurt and confusion because he only knows about the good stuff. He's too young to understand the drunkenness and dysfunction. So now I pay for the sins of my father yet again because I am the one who has to see my son cry. I am the one who has to explain why. And I am the one who has to live everyday knowing that my son hurts because I wanted so desperately to be loved by my father.

The problem with my mortality.

Have you ever had one of those instances when you narrowly escaped being creamed by a semi or you witness a car crash that happens 3 seconds after you clear the intersection?? Or maybe if you've had someone close to you die young for stupid reasons? All of those things have the tendency to snap your attention to your own life, your own mortality. I had one of those instances yesterday.

My son was in the kitchen doing his reading lesson for the day, my baby was asleep upstairs and I had come in to check my e-mail. I had been having a continuous pain in my chest for a couple of hours, but assumed it was just one of those lung catch things, you know, when you have to take a deep breath in order to pop that lung off the rib cage? Anyway, when I sat down to the computer I all of a sudden felt pain, tightness in the chest, dizziness and when I went to stand up, I was on the verge of unconsciousness. I had a very distinct feeling that I was dying alone in my house with my children. I did manage to get up, I did manage to get help and things are fine, but my uneasiness still remains. They were unable to tell me what the problem was in the ER, so I have no idea if this will happen again or if it was an isolated incident. Either way though, I was slapped in the face with my own mortality, BIG TIME!

All I can remember thinking is, "I CANNOT die, not with two small children!" And I have been a basket case ever since. I know that we will all die. I try not to think about it, but I know it's the case. What I don't like, is this sense of foreboding. The fear that I will just keel over and leave my children without a mother. Some horrible cosmic joke where I get everything I could have ever wanted (we're not talking money here, we're talking the two most amazing children, a truly wonderful husband, a supportive family, and even a big, dumb dog) only to die and leave all I ever dreamt of behind. Now I know there is the argument of salvation and everlasting happiness in heaven, but the thought of leaving my children motherless, not being able to watch them grow up, not being able to meet my grandchildren, I honestly have to say that it is hard for me to imagine that everlasting happiness is possible when everything I love is here. I will be the first to admit, I am not the most devout person in the world, in fact when it comes to religion, I question a great many things. I was raised in the age of science and it is hard for me to not question everything. I truly HOPE there is an afterlife, I HOPE that we are reunited with our loved ones and I HOPE there is eternal joy and happiness after you die. But I would give it all up to look, even one more time, into the eyes of my beautiful baby to see the unconditional love and trust that she has for me. To be able to hold and kiss my son when he has accomplished something great or when he has fallen down and skinned his knee. To hear my baby say "Mama" and "Dada" or to watch my son learn how to ride his bike or read his favorite book. Even the most ridiculous things like seeing the crooked, little smile my son gets when he's nervous, or the high-pitched squealing noises he makes while sliding down the slide at the park. Or what about the look of surprise when you play peek-a-boo with the baby, the smell of her hair after a bath, the stinky face she makes when you feed her zucchini? Not to mention watching my hubby rough-house with the boy or seeing him sit the baby on the bathroom counter so he can make faces in the mirror with her.

The problem is...I HAVE found heaven on earth, and it scares the hell out of me to think about not having it anymore!

Salute to Procrastination

Oh yes I am a procrastinator
Why do it today, when I can do it later
Things may take a week, a month or a year
But things eventually do get done around here

My house isn't spotless, in fact it's a mess
But laundry and dishes cause strife and stress
Time is just something that slips through the cracks
While I'm changing poopy diapers and doling out snacks

If I didn't have all these kids, pets and fish
Things would get done around here as quick as I wish
But what a boring life that would be
Only having to take care of little 'ol me

Clutter and projects will always be here
But not the little kiddos I hold so dear
Someday they'll move on with lives of their own
So I'll finish those projects when I'm sad and alone

But at least they'll remember that I took the time
To read them stories and play with green slime
That we went to the park and had lots of fun
Even if the work wasn't done

So I take full responsibility of my procrastinating ways
And I'll continue to put things off for days
Eventually I'll finish everything I started
Maybe even BEFORE I'm dearly departed

Missing her.

My baby just turned 7 months old and with that came a major change. She has slept in the bed with us since her birth but for some reason a week or so ago, she just started waking alot with every little noise or rustle of the sheets. She was definitely not getting much sleep which was causing everyone else in the house not to get much sleep, therefore making life generally miserable! So we decided maybe she was needing to transition to the crib. We started this about 4 nights ago and things have gone well. Three of the four nights she actually slept all night with no feedings or anything! She goes down around 8:30 or 9pm and I wake up, shocked, at 6:30am when she cries and wants to nurse.

Now I don't want you to think that I am not grateful to have my own bed back. To actually be able to have deep sleep and not worry about where the baby is or if the covers are too close to her face or if my son has crawled in bed and laid down on her is great! However...I MISS HER SO BAD!!! I miss having that warm little body to curl up around. I miss feeling her little hand reach out in the dark, searching for me. I miss the wonderful smell and the soft, fuzziness of her hair. I miss the small sighing and cooing noises she makes in her sleep. And although my brain knows it is totally ridiculous, my heart feels sad that she doesn't want or need me close anymore for that comfort. I am left with this little void, kind of like the void that my body felt when she was born, knowing that this progression is normal, but feeling empty and sad nonetheless.

I have said it a million times, motherhood is as much a curse as a miracle. You are given the most precious thing in life only to have it slowly taken away from you. And you watch with joy and pride at all the accomplishments and all the milestones then you secretly go and cry your eyes out because the most amazing thing you have ever known is one step closer to walking out the door and embarking on a life of its own. Bittersweet.

Jello-gate Addendum

After reading my last post, a good family friend e-mailed and reminded me that one day, many years from now, when my mom isn't around I'll cherish the whole lime jello fiasco. And in all honesty, she's probably right. I would never eat a lime jello mold, it will not become a tradition in my house, but I will look back on this Christmas and always remember it as the "Lime Jello Christmas". After all, I DID go out in the pouring rain to go get that damn Jello because she's my mom and a pain-in-the-ass she may be sometimes, I love her and I'd probably go get that f**king lime jello all over again! But do me a favor Mom, can we please at least do raspberry Jello next year??

Jello-gate

My mother complained that most of my entries on this blog have to do with my children, being as I have a dedicated blog for them as well. But unfortunately, when you are a stay-at-home mom, alot of your observations have to do with your kids! Anyway, this one is just for you Mom, remember...you asked for it!

My mom came to town for Christmas as well as my in-laws. We were all set to have XMAS dinner at my place, since I am the one who cooks and actually has enough table space for a large group of people. Anyway, I had most of the dinner menu all planned out. The typical, ham, turkey, dressing, potatoes, green bean casserole, rolls, pumpkin pie, you know...the goods! Anyway, for some odd reason Mom decided that XMAS dinner wasn't worth eating unless she was able to have a Lime Jello Mold. Yep, you read right, a LIME JELLO MOLD. Now I don't know about the rest of you, but I would rather eat my shoe than eat any form of lime jello, and I would certainly not entertain the idea of eating lime jello mixed with cottage cheese and pecans!! I tried to convince her that she would be the only one that would eat it, so why make it? But she HAD to have this thing. So we went to the store, got all the fixin's and on XMAS Eve morning began to prepare some of the food in advance, jello mold included. As it turns out, her recipe called for 2 packages of Jello, but she had only bought one. I suggested that maybe we bypass this "culinary delight" since we didn't have the proper ingredients, but this was not acceptable (too bad!). So I suggested that she go to the corner Walgreens to see if they had the Jello instead of going to the EXTREMELY busy HEB down the road. Well she said that her shoes were in the baby's room and she didn't want to wake her. So I offered her my slip on Nike flip-flops, but it was raining and she might get her delicate feet wet, sigh! So I'm thinking, "Mom...would you like ME (who has nothing better to do like laundry, vacuuming, food prep, housecleaning, etc...) to go out in the pouring rain to the corner Walgreens to look for the f**king lime jello, for that f**king lime jello mold that nobody is going to f**king eat?!?!" Of course the answer to my more toned down version of that question was "yes". So what did I do??? I slipped on my Nike flip-flops, I went out in the pouring f**king rain to go to the f**king Walgreens to find that f**king lime jello to put into that f**king lime jello mold that no one was going to f**king eat!

And when it was all said and done, my mother-in-law was the only person besides my mother to even have one helping of said Jello mold. Mom offered me a bite and I figured with as much trouble as I went to in order for that damn mold to be made I should at least try it. I know, you're thinking Green Eggs and Ham..."Say! I like lime jello in a pan! I like lime jello, Sam-I-Am!" But no. I would not eat it in a boat, I would not eat it with a goat, I will not eat it in the rain, or in the dark or on a train, in a car or in a tree, it WAS NOT good, NO good you see! So I would not eat it in a box or try to feed it to a fox, I will not eat it in a house or offer it to a hungry mouse, I would not eat it here or there, I WILL NOT EAT IT ANYWHERE! In fact, it tasted like a toilet mint, blah!

Hollywood Purse Dogs...please.

I was reading an article on Yahoo News about some poll over who the best and worst celebrity dog owners are. I guess Oprah was the best and Britney Spears and Paris Hilton were the worst. Actually, after reading the article, I was annoyed that such crap-ola is newsworthy and I was slightly ashamed that I read the whole thing. Frankly, I could give a hairy dog's butt about Britney, Paris or even Oprah. But the fact remains that I am slightly unnerved about this whole "Purse Dog" thing. What is UP with that? I am all for having a dog for companionship. My dog is the coolest dog ever and a wonderful companion, but I certainly would never use him to accessorize my outfits (unless you count the massive amounts of dog hair that end up ON my outfits!) Besides, if I tried to heave the 75-lb. Oatman over my shoulder I would probably end up in the ER with a hernia! And another thing, WHY would you want to have an accessory that is going to need to stop and take a dump at some point? Oh, I forgot, we're talking about rich folks here, they can afford to have someone else pick up little Snookie's "tootsie rolls" off the sidewalk. Now that's a job! "Hey, what do you do for a living?" "I clean up Paris Hilton's dog shit!" Now if that won't get you a date I don't know what will! So come on people, let's get real, walk your dog, love your dog, care for your dog, even pamper the hell out of your dog, but for cryin' out loud, if you want a new accessory that would go great with your outfit, try getting a brain!

Comfort and Joy

My baby wails to wake the dead. I go to her, pick her up and hold her close. All of her tensions release as she exhales and relaxes against my body. Then she roots. Aahh, she's hungry. I put her to my breast and she looks at me with big blue eyes and I can see the slight curl in her lip as she tries to smile and nurse at the same time. I rub her silky hair and her eyes roll back with the same milk-drunk euphoria that her brother used to get when he nursed. All is well in the world as she is nourished and warm and happy. For a fleeting moment, she is again one with me, flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood. She drinks her fill and drifts off to sleep, knowing with every fiber of her being that she is loved.

Bah Humbug!!

I am a member of a local mother's group and it is a wonderful thing! Most of the members are really great, down-to-earth women with a great outlook on life and child-rearing. However, in every group there always has to be a couple of spoil-sports and our group is no exception. Recently the threads have entertained thoughts of Christmas and Santa Claus and the such. One of the moms had a major mishap with the kiddos finding the mother lode of loot. She was quite distraught and wanted some advice how to handle it as her children are still young and still get visited by Santa. There were many helpful ideas how to deal with this faux pas and still keep the spirit of Santa alive (all quite ingenious ideas at that!). But out of the helpful ideas and words of support from most of us came the post that slammed her for "lying" to her children about Santa. From what I understand, this woman feels it is wrong to lie to your kids and dangerous for them to have trust in a stranger who, for all intense purposes, breaks into your home and leaves treats. Wow! That had never even crossed my mind! Probably because I am not totally paranoid!

I firmly believe that "lying" is a strong word when it comes to Santa or the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny. These are all great traditions of storytelling that go back for generations! And what is so damn wrong with your child believing in something fun and magical? It won't last forever, at some point they will catch on, like all of us did and yes, they may be a little disappointed for a time, but then they might just look back and appreciate the effort that we as parents put forth to make life a little more fun and a little more memorable! In fact, I remember the day I learned the truth about Santa, but was I angry or dismayed that my parents had let me believe? Of course not! I was in 4th grade and pretty close to figuring it out anyway! I remember walking into the house with leftover boxes of Santa loot in my hands and my mother looking shocked! So we got it out in the open and had a good laugh about it! However, the spirit of Santa existed even after I learned that the jolly, fat, man that rode reindeer and squeezed down chimneys was a myth. There are still Santa gifts under our tree. Usually the fun and frivolous gifts that bring a smile to your face!

So will I continue to hang stockings with care? Will I have my son write a note telling Santa of his wishes? Will we leave cookies for the jolly, old elf and oats and carrots for the reindeer? Absolutely! After all, what fun is life without a little magic? As for the woman on my list, I feel bad for her. Life must be terribly dull and unfulfilling when you can't see the wonderment of the world and the enchantment of childhood. Children are slapped in the face with the harsh realities of this world soon enough. So why not let them dream in their short-lived time of innocence?

I think Bill Cosby must be right.

As I have stated, I have an almost 5 y.o. son and he is without a doubt the most awesome thing in the world! He is beautiful and smart and funny and SERIOUSLY annoying! I feel awful as a mother saying this about my child, but it's the truth! He hasn't always been annoying, in fact the annoyance-level didn't reach a critical capacity until a month or two ago. It was like a switch was triggered in his little head and all he can do now is make noise. He sings, he "RRRAAAHHHS", he talks to himself, he talks to me CONSTANTLY about things that make no sense! All of this puts me in such a predicament though. He drives me clear up the wall on a daily basis, but I certainly do not want to discourage him from singing (it isn't often you find a little boy this young that can actually carry a tune!) and I love that he wants to talk to me and that he has a vivid imagination, but dear lord if this child doesn't learn how to shut his pie-hole on occasion I may have to flail myself out of the second-story window! It all makes me remember what Bill Cosby said about kids having brain damage! I have to tell my son at every meal that we DO NOT sing at the table, but does he remember that at the next meal? No. So I once again have to remind him that we DO NOT sing at the table. I find it odd that he can remember what we did at his grandparents' house 2 years ago, he remembers everything about meeting my hairdresser's 12 y.o. son 4 months ago, but he can't remember that I told him not to sing at the table 3 hours ago! Is it just a glitch in the pre-school mind? Or have they already learned selective listening? I personally think in my case that it is some wonderful karmic payback! I seem to recall my parents constantly telling me to be quiet and that I talked too much. In fact, a few people in my life would still concur that I have the gift of gab. So I suppose the boy comes by it honestly and I should cherish it, after all, once he's a teenager the last thing he's going to want to do is talk to me!

Diapers...don't get me started!

As is probably obvious, I am a mother. A mother to an almost 5 year old son and a 5 month old daughter. Now when I had my daughter (4 1/2 years after having my son) I was amazed at the advances in baby gear!! The strollers are so much more versatile and light weight, the diaper bags now look like hip Gucci bags, the carseats have side impact protectors, you name it, they probably have it. But here is the odd thing, there has obviously been no advances in diapers. In fact, I am pretty sure that disposable diapers of today are hardly better than the ones used in the 70's!! How do I know this?? I know this because my beautiful, sweet, precious baby girl shoots crap straight up the back of her outfit at least every other day!! Why? Because diapers are not fitted around the top! Not to say that the fittings around the legs don't leak, cause they do, but for some reason all it takes is for the child to be sitting in any upright position when said poop happens and instead of being absorbed or dispersing in the lower part of the diaper, it shoots straight up the back, over the top and soils that sweet, pink and frilly onesie (at the most inopportune time, of course)! i just find it odd that we can make cars that can park themselves, but we CANNOT seem to make a diaper that can actually contain baby shit!! It's not like there isn't a market for such an item. Ask any haggard mother who has been in a restaurant or store and picked up her adorable child only to realize that not only the child, but the carseat and herself are covered in poop and I'm sure she would tell you in no uncertain terms that she would practically KILL to have a diaper that worked! But I don't think it will be something that I will see in my lifetime. Diaper companies don't feel the need to truly improve the diaper since we will buy them regardless. I mean what else are we gonna do? I suppose I could use cloth diapers, maybe they actual contain biohazardous waste better than disposables, but then there is the downside of having to wash them!! It is bad enough washing the nasty, poo-stained onesies! I would surely wretch if I had to wash cloth diapers! So the cycle will continue, I will continue using disposable diapers, and my daughter will continue ruining onesies and that will be my life until she learns how to poop in a toilet!

Well...here we go!

Well, here I am in the land of blog. I'm not exactly sure why I feel the need to be here. Obviously, I have spent the last 30-something years observing the world around me, but as of late, I feel the need to just write it down. I mean really, life is just too weird or pathetic or aggravating or incredible to just let it pass by without mention. I will probably write some stuff that will make you laugh, possibly make you cry and most definitely piss some of you off. But before you get all incensed and shoot me a nasty comment, please take the time to reflect and ponder why I have pissed you off. Is it because I have said something terrible and untrue? Or is it because I hit the nail on the head and hit a nerve in the process? So away we go! Come along for the ride if you like, but this blog is like a taxi, you can get off anytime you please!