Reality check.

Brace yourself folks, I have quite a bit to get off my chest in this entry!

I would assume it comes as no surprise that the Virginia Tech thing has been on my mind. I think it's on alot of people's minds. Things like this make no sense to me. But then again, I have a fundamental respect for life. All life mind you, I can't even kill a spider, I catch them and put them outside.

My first response was total shock. Universities are supposed to be places of knowledge and diversity. I know that my college years were filled with interesting people from interesting places all with different ideas and beliefs. It was a place to open my mind to contrasting views and philosophies on everything from science to basic daily life. Tea vs. coffee, Christianity vs. Islam vs. Buddhism vs. Atheism, rock vs. pop, nature vs. nurture, evolution vs. intelligent design, meat-eating vs. vegetarianism, Disney vs. Warner Bros. and the list goes on and on. It was my college years that helped determine the "ME" more than any other time in my life. And to think of all those young people, on the road to discovering who they were, expanding their minds, exploring their potentials, having that all taken away. I can understand a person being so unhappy that they want to take their own life. I think as humans we have the right to do ourselves in if we don't want to be here anymore. But why? Why did this man feel he had the right to take the lives of 32 people with him? What in his mind justified him taking away the hopes and dreams of 32 families? Misery loves company? What a crock!

Bottom line here, the world is going crazy. I think we are on the verge of some massive human meltdown! I know that even in my own little universe I can see things winding down that path. An air of sheer entitlement, like the world owes us something. It is all about number one and have no mercy for anyone that gets in the way. I do understand that we have to look out for ourselves and our families first, but along the way, we should be looking out for our neighbors and other living beings. The complete lack of compassion and civility that I see in my everyday life makes me sick! A busload of perfectly healthy people that won't get off their lazy asses to make room for an elderly man with a cane or a pregnant woman with swollen ankles. The jerk-off in the giganto, gas-guzzling SUV that rides up on your ass only to swerve around you at the last minute so he can punch it to get ahead of you so he can cut you off and damn near run you and your children off the road so he can make it to his destination 35.3 seconds faster than if he had just driven at the posted rate of speed! The hunter that kills one of the 6 remaining female Amur leopards in the wild. The crazy people fighting over the "in" toy at the department store at Christmas time. I'm sorry, but does your kid NEED that toy so bad you have to come to blows to get it? There is such a thing as disappointment, we all have to learn about it and SOMETIMES in life you don't get what you want. In fact, I think Mr. Jagger and the Stones put it quite eloquently..."You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometime, you might find...you get what you NEED!" In all honesty, this is where alot of this bullshit behavior stems. If your child gets every single thing he or she desires, how do they learn to cope with disappointment? How do they learn to work hard for something they want? I understand the desire as a parent to give your children everything. I'm even guilty of a certain amount of indulgence, but I am also pretty adept at saying "no", and I think that's important.

I'm at a loss to figure out how things got so bad. Are we so numb to violence that NOTHING surprises us anymore? I wasn't alive when the UT clock tower shootings happened, but I'm pretty sure it scared the hell out of the entire country! But as far as I can tell, the Virginia Tech shootings have now been overshadowed by Alec Baldwin yelling at his kid on a voicemail message. I guess it's a lucky thing Anna Nicole's crap has been pretty much dealt with or we wouldn't have even heard about this tragedy! Have we just become so passive from being force-fed by the media that we can hardly think for ourselves anymore? Are we so used to watching governments all over the globe acting like spoiled, rotten little children that have no respect for anyone or anything and no grasp of consequences? Or have we lost sight of the difference between doing what we want versus doing what is right? That's a biggy folks! Just because it makes you mad cash, doesn't make it right! Sometimes we have to set aside our monetary gains in order to do right by other people and the planet. Is that concept really that hard to grasp?? Call me an idealist, but I'd give up all the luxuries if it meant that every person in the world could eat decent food, drink clean water and have affordable medical care. Granted, I'm not about the "handout", but we can get into the state of welfare in another entry!

All I know is I don't like what I see. Polite society is nowhere near polite these days. Rude, self-centered behavior is the norm and it's sad. A very angry, rude, self-centered young man destroyed 32 families because he felt the need to take innocent lives with his own. And here I am, living day by day, wondering how to raise my children to be decent humans when the world is teeming with rude, self-centered, entitled assholes.

It's been a long time!

Wow! It's been almost a month since my last post! Time flies with a baby, an active 5 y.o., a traveling husband, a broken toe, and remodeling! But now that I have things down to a dull roar, I have a few minutes to myself while someone is watching "Over the Hedge" and the little missy is looking out the storm door. There are a couple of things that have been on my mind for a bit. I will probably address them in two different entries as not to distract myself.

First things first, there is a big stink in the state of Texas right now over a bill they want to pass that requires voters to provide an ID with the voter registration card (to prevent voter fraud and the such). People are freaking out! I am not at all understanding what the big deal is. If I'm not mistaken, everytime I use my credit card I am asked for identification. I provide this information and we all go about our lives, happy as clams. I understand that even though it is a bit of a nuisance to pull the ID out of the wallet, it does, for the most part assure the company of my identity and henceforth allow them and myself a feeling of comfort that someone is not fraudulently using my card. Why is this any different for voting? I am fine with the state asking me to prove that I am actually the person on the voter registration card. Many of the groups that are beside themselves over this represent older citizens. What, do old people not have identification? I mean with the amount of paperwork and crap that an elderly person has to endure using medicaid and all that nonsense, I am sure they have to have SOME form of identification. Or is it just too hard for people to remember to bring identification to the polling place? Once again, have I missed something? If you were able to get in the car and drive to the polling place, then I would assume, as the law requires, that you would have some form of driver's license with you. And if you had to take public transit, I would assume you would need money or your bus pass which would most likely reside in your wallet where SOME form of identification would most likely be. So really...what is the big freakin' deal?? I guarantee that having to provide a piece of identification is NOT going to keep me from casting my ballot!

Just wondering...

OK, I assume we have all ventured into a Wal-Mart or Target or any other big box retailer. I also assume that you have noticed, ESPECIALLY at Wal-Mart that there are 50 check out lanes. However, has anyone EVER seen more than 6 of those lanes open at one time, even during the holidays? In fact, the Wal-Mart by my house is lucky to have 3 actual checkers open and 4 of the "self-check" aisles open. Now the "self-check" aisles, those will have to be addressed in an entirely different entry! Anyway, I was just wondering what is the purpose of having 50 lanes? I think I would possibly crap myself if I ever walked into a Wal-Mart with all 50 lanes open! In fact, I might wonder if I was actually still among the living or if I had died and gone to heaven where Wal-Mart has all 50 lanes open, with checkers, 24 hours a day! Just think of it, instead of pearly gates it would be pearly check out lanes, with helpful, smiling clerks, where all items had tags and rang up with the proper price, and when you finished you could stop at the Golden Arches for your 0 calorie Big Mac, Supersize fries and drink, then walk out of the store to your front row parking space! Aaaah, do I dare dream of such pleasures? NO! Because I know this joy is not to be found on Earth and nothing short of Divine intervention or a full-fledged miracle would there ever be a Wal-Mart where all 50 lanes were open. And how do I know this? Wal-Mart is actually run by Satan, so those other 47 lanes are there to taunt and torment your brain while you stand in an endless line with 2 items, a crying baby, a manic 5 year-old and a desperate need to pee! Am I right?

The Little Things

Have you ever noticed that sometimes when life is all crazy and hectic, and you can barely remember to put deodorant on, and the kids are all noisy in the car, and it seems like your brain is just going to explode, that sometimes something completely small and what most might consider completely insignificant is just what you needed to make you realize that life is still OK?? This is what I experienced today.

While driving out of the parking lot at the big box retail hell, I caught a sight out of the corner of my eye that made me stop the car (luckily no one was behind me). On the branch of an old, dead tree in the field behind Target was a GORGEOUS red-winged blackbird with his wings spread out for preening. He was magnificent! Black as night with those crimson red shoulder tufts. He was such a contrast to the dead trees and dreary, cloudy sky that I just had to take a moment to marvel. He flew off and I shut my eyes for a moment, breathed a few deep breaths, put the car in drive and continued on my way with a sense that there is still beauty in the world, you just have to really watch for it!

What?!?

We were in Lowe's yesterday looking for front doors. Dull, dreary and uneventful, yet after the 2am fiasco of soupy mortar and a ruined tile entryway, a new front door is a necessity. But that, my dears, is another blog entry all together. Anyway, after dealing with doors I decided to go look at the moulding to see if there was anything attractive to go around the fireplace tile. While perusing the moulding my son was running up and down the aisle, being generally obtrusive and noisy. At one point he yells out, "Mommy!" " Yes, Dear." "Guess what??? I have a HOLE in my BUTT!!!" Try to picture stunned silence on my part, then the "look-around" to see if anyone was in earshot, then the momentary thoughts of "What the hell made him think of that?". I called him over to me, trying to shush him and he's all, "What? I DO have a hole in my butt!" So I am trying to explain that yes, I understand he has a hole in his butt and that we all do, HOWEVER, we don't really need to discuss this type of thing in PUBLIC. He looks slightly confused, so I tried to explain that we generally try not to discuss butts, pee-pees or anything that comes out of those things when we are in public places. He takes a minute to mull this over and asks if that means farting too. "Yep, farting too." Then with a shrug, he accepts this new bit of information and on we go. I'll be interested to see how long this lasts. Something tells me it is genetically impossible for a 5 year-old boy not to discuss bodily functions!

Sometimes life is good.

My posts of late have been a little deep. A scary incident caused me to really take a long hard look at my life and my possible lack thereof. But sometimes...life is just good. I spent my morning feeding children, doing dishes, putting away the last bits of clothing from suitcases and schooling my son. He took his review test in his math program and quite frankly blew me away. He may be an annoying little turd and it may seem that he isn't paying attention at times, but that is when he completely catches me off guard! His comprehension of things is incredible. So, although it seems that the only thing he listens to is his iPod, it turns out that he actually must pay attention to at least some of what I teach him. It's a great feeling. Not to mention the look of pride in HIS eyes when he knows he's done well!

I couldn't help but take advantage of the GORGEOUS weather today. I packed up my children and a nifty, little picnic and headed to the park to meet up with my friend and her children. We had a lovely lunch under the trees and proceeded to share the wealth with the local duck population at the pond. Each family was armed with a loaf of bread to feed the hungry fowl. The sun was shining, the water was rippling in the breeze and we were bombarded by hordes of hungry ducks looking for a hand out. There were several that must have been young as they still had those soft downy feathers. You couldn't imagine cuter ducks! And since they were young, they weren't as cautious as their older counterparts, and they were twice as excited about getting free food so they ventured closer. Normally I wouldn't even think to do it, but they were so cute that I caught myself reaching out to pet their backs. They were so soft and sweet, and completely gullible, and it made me giggle.

After feeding and petting ducks, my friend and I took the kiddos to the playscape and embarked on some much needed adult conversation. It is amazing how nice it is to speak to an adult when your main source of conversation on a daily basis is a 5 year old! Not to say I don't treasure conversations with my child, but it is nice to converse about something other than Hot Wheels cars, Lightning McQueen, or pooping and farting!

Anyway, it was a lovely day, spent outdoors with happy children, silly ducks, a good friend and chocolate chip cookies. Now really...could you ask for anything better?

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!