Why we have birthdays

On our way back from Walmart this evening, Daniel was asking me why we were having his party on his actual birthday instead of the weekend. I was explaining that since we live further from his grandparents and his friends are the ones coming to the party, it was ok to have it during the week. He interrupted me several times to find out if he was still going to get presents if the grandparents weren't there. I said "Yes, but....

the reason we have birthday parties isn't to get presents. We have a party every year to celebrate the day you became our son. We get to have a good time and be happy that you were born, into our family, and that we have been together for another year."

His eyes started to tear up and I thought "Good grief, here we go. Another tantrum."

Instead, he said, "That is so sweet. I always appreciate that they are (his guests) just there. I love you."

Hear that? It's my cold heart melting. Literally---total puddle.

As we rounded the corner, we passed the local ice cream parlor. There was a father outside with two girls (infant and a little younger than Daniel). He carried his beautiful baby in one arm and cradled the back of his older daughters head in his hand as he steered her gently to the car. GULP, SOB, HICCUP.

As caught up in the day to day grind and irritation of raising my kids as I can be, I am officially taking the next few minutes to remember how desperately each of them was wanted. How happily all of them were welcomed into the world and my heart. No video ever captured the secret moments alone with them, when they were fresh and new, that I smelled their baby breath, their sweet necks. But I don't need a visual reminder of how just their little sighs made my heart swell with more love than I ever thought I was capable of. And to think that this endless love could multiply three times over is remarkable.

Below is my birthday boy. Happy Birthday Daniel!

Daniel's first birthday card this year

Passage of Time

I had intended to do a blog that included pictures. But here I am, trapped in my room by a screaming three year old. So I will try to convey in words what I wanted to share with photos. Then I will add them later.

Over the course of this project I am working on for my grandmother there have been many surprises. I have been able to associate faces with names I have heard all of my life but never had any meaning to me. I have been able to peer into the past of my family and get a glimpse of what things were like.

The thing that has struck me the most though is the way time sneaks up on us. I was going through pictures and came upon one of my great grandfather Charlie Holliday. My memories of this man are sweet. He always smelled good and was loveable and proud. He was always old to me, but not in that frail sort of way some older people are. This was my memory. The picture was in his last years, when he was ill and barely able to move. He was in a hospital bed in the dining room of his home and his great grandson Jacob was looking over the railing at him. There was a physical sensation looking at this picture. Mere moments before, I had held a photo of him with his twin brothers as young men. They looked vibrant and full of life.

I think the family I was born into ages rather well. Maybe that is why it surprises me when they start to look their age or even old. My father's pictures were among those that I have been looking at. Seeing him as a little kids, a soldier, a new father, are all images I can deal with. Those even make me smile. Knowing that one day, if we are lucky enough to live long full lives, we will both be shadows of our younger days makes me sad. There is no avoiding it. Would we really want to?

I cannot even imagine what my children will be like at my age. Or my grandmothers age. Or what their children's children will think of our generation.


So as I ponder all this deep stuff I will try to savor my present, not dwell on my past or my future. I will do my best not to wish for those paths left untaken. I will do my best to pass on what I know and still be aware that a century from now it may be as though I never existed.

I hope this makes sense to someone besides myself.

Speaking with authority

This morning Ted slept in. It is the first day back to work and he was dreading it after a week's vacation. Around nine o'clock, Aurelia and I went upstairs to clean up and she climbed on the bed with Daddy.

She had a thin plastic stick (like a pick up stick) and was poking him as he slept. He started to get up. She held out her hand, pushed him back down, struck a pose and said, " It's ok. I am a doctor. You need to go hospital and get operations. We put stitches in your hand." Then she resumed poking him. He didn't seem to appreciate my contribution---that the surgery may just be lyposuction.


After he left for work I made dinner. We are trying to get back into our habit of eating at home. So after the kids and I ate, I packed up his dinner and we drove over to his office. Daniel insisted he be able to roll down the rear van window so he could talk to his Daddy. This consisted of some rather rude noises and nonsense. Finally, he reached out to hug Ted. I said, " Kiss him. Kiss him." Daniel gave me the stare and said quite bluntly, " That is SO unnecessary."

Ok then.

Kings Island

An additional comment about our trip.

We were in Coney Mall and I saw one of the barkers who will guess your age, weight, or birth month within two years, pounds, or months. I thought why not, the worst that could happen is my ego could be crushed.

I walked up and handed my $5 to the guy. He wrote his guess (my age) down and then asked for the correct answer. I told him 32-------------

HE GUESSED 17!!!!

Now realistically, I know he is probably around that age and inexperienced in the world of guesses. It probably helped my cause that I asked my own mother for the money right before his guess. But nevertheless, his guess was FIFTEEN years lower than my actual age!!!

That is a personal memory I will tuck right here and take out every so often and giggle about.

AND YOU CAN"T TAKE THAT AWAY, SO DON"T EVEN TRY!!

:0)

Trippy

This past weekend was a semi-vacation to King's Island in OH with my mother, cousin, myself, and my two older children. These are some of the pros and cons that came with the trip.

Pro....

Aurelia was left with her daddy.

Con...

Aurelia was left with her daddy.

Pro...

She advanced her potty training exponentially while we were gone. There were multiple incidents of self initiated trips to the potty!! Yippee.

Con...

Our oldest was a snot bucket. What do you have to do to get a thank you or a semi kind word from a teenager these days?

Pro...

My highly strung younger son was discovered to be a thrill seeker. He exclaimed how AWESOME many of the adult rides were and wasn't even a little scared.

Con..

He wanted me to ride them too. UGH

Pro..

Got to spend some time with my mom.

Con...

Mom hates parental/child conflict (and there was no shortage.)

Overall, decent trip. A repeat next year? Not so much.

Summer Photo Post

News on the homefront

I love having my plate piled high. One project simply isn't enough for this stellar underachiever.

In the midst of the BIG photo book project, I have taken on a video CD for my Dad of his most recent 517 photos of his cross country trip with my mom and his cousins. That is fast becoming the slowest project in history (due to the file size of the pics).

Since school starts soon, it is also necessary to get cracking on the potty training. The first diaper free day went well. NO ACCIDENTS!! Yesterday was a little less successful after the deposit of urine in a couple of corners. But we are staying positive and focused.... sort of.

As a reward/incentive (Mommy indulgence), we welcomed two beautiful kittens into our family this week. They are brother/sister buff colored sweeties. Much debate was had over their naming, but this morning it was made permanent. They are now Desmond and Molly Kitty. (Other names in the running were Sugar and Spice, Bread & Butter, Benny & Joon, and Cornbread & Tatertots.)

I will be wrapping up my first case with CASA soon. I must say it was challenging and rewarding. I was glad to have met all of the people involved. Now I must prepare myself to let these children out of my mind and focus on the next case. I believe that will be the hardest thing in the future. Transition.

In the meantime, I ask all who enter my home to alert me to any odors I may not be noticing. New kittens and a potty training 3 year old distract a person. Thanks in advance.

Have a great day and happy blogging!

things that make you go HMMM?!

The sorting done, I have delved into the task of scanning the photos into my computer. This job is tedious and better suited for a trained monkey. But two of the pictures have grabbed my attention and I would like to share them with you blog readers.

The first one is of a little boy. His expression is somewhat unhappy to say the least. When I first saw it, I thought to myself, he is having a bad day. But I am sorry to report that all of his pictures turn out that way. I am not revealing his name just in case.

He is one toddler SERIOUSLY in need of a cookie.

The second picture illustrates to me the sheer lunacy of mortality. Perhaps we are concerned with the legacy we leave behind. Maybe we care about enjoying our lives while they are here to enjoy. Whatever the case, this man, was once someone's son. I apologize in advance, but the distance of time and never having known this person lends a slight bit of humor to the off the wall tidbit on the back of his picture,

The caption simply states his name and "Died in a bread mixer."

Now, death is never funny. But surely there was some other life event that could have made it onto the back of a photograph as a descriptive marker for this suave gentleman.

I hear the scanner warming up. I guess I had better eat my banana and get back to work.

Book of memories

Over the years I have tackled big projects. I have learned to crochet the basics from a book over a weekend. I have organized my dad's first ever birthday party. One year all of our Christmas cards (over 300) were addressed and stamped in JULY. I try to finish my seasonal shopping before the first frost. But this is the BIGGEST project I have ever tackled.

You can't tell by my current house status, but I used to reorganize my mothers kitchen. I used to clean my granma's house every weekend. Now I organize in my head and leave it there. But my grandmother and her new husband are moving. That gives me the prime opportunity to lay my hands on all of her pictures under the premise of compiling a book of memories.

Initially, I just sorted everything into black and white and color photos. Now a more complete thought is forming about sections of the book: portraits, weddings, babies, family photos, candids. But my grandmother has thousands of pictures. Not to mention the duplicates. So if you don't see me for awhile or if I look a little ragged, it is because I am undertaking the task of my life. Thank you for your patience.

Got Camp?

I am the queen of camp. My oldest has been signed up for five camps this summer. The middle one had a week of camp. I wanna know when they will sign Aurelia up for camp.

The great thing about camps for the older one is that some are free. Others are not, but still relatively cheap. There was only one fairly expensive one. But on average, we are getting five weeks of him being fed, bathed, and entertained for a fraction of what we could do it for here.

I mean have you seen the kid eat?

Mixed Mommy

My recent volunteer work has been a mixed bag of blessings.

I have had the opportunity to get out and take action about things that gnaw at my soul. I have been able to see firsthand how important my being able to stay home and take care of my own three kids is. Feeling like I am making any difference while being able to balance it with them is wonderful.

The different thoughts come out when I realize that I don't enjoy playing. When I say that out loud, it sounds like I don't enjoy my children. What I don't enjoy is the actual playing part (watching cartoons, dress up, park playing, pretend games). I didn't enjoy group play as a child. I don't like the outdoors unless I am alone or with sedate group on a mild day. What I do enjoy is the joy my children have when I do those things with them. As much as I personally dislike the activities, knowing that when they grow up they can hold on to memories of us together doing things they liked to do makes me happy.

Then I begin to think of the time that I will be released from this obligation. When cartoons and tea parties and endless conversations about non existent people will be a thing of the past. The part where my life becomes mostly my own again. I long for it and I dread it simultaneously. It will mean my babies don't need that part of me anymore. I will miss them. We will have different relationships and they will grow away from me in ways that will break me. But they will grow. And I will remember how I smelled their hair, marveled at the chunk and smooth of their baby cheek, kissed away boo-boo's, fixed broken toys, mended wounded feelings, explained new things. Maybe they will remember some of it too.

When they fly the nest, I will be beyond ready to pursue a career. I worked before the kids, but never enjoyed my jobs. I had moments in most all of the jobs I held that were enjoyable, but I wasn't making a difference or doing anything I felt important about. I let my mind wander to saying things like "I have to go to a conference." "I'll be away on a business trip that week." "I'll check my calendar, but my secretary will know for sure." Adultish, career-like sentences that don't include references to bowel movements, boogers, imaginary friends. I will enjoy the wide variety of positions that are available with my chosen path. I will savor every moment. But I will know in my heart that this job I have now, the one that tires me out, that really sticks it to me, is the one that defines me. I won't have a retirement party, no goodbye cake, it will just fade into a new part of our life. I'll be free as I weep with joy/sadness.

Am I the only one?

AQUATARD

After having a hysterectomy and not being in the best of shape to begin with, I thought I would give a different kind of swimsuit a try. I had heard a celebrity refer to http://www.junonia.com/ where active ladies over size 14 can by clothing.

I located a suit called an Aquatard. My initial thought was I could turn it into my superhero name and it would be so fitting. Then I noted the wonderful concealing qualities of the suit. It was even in my price range (for their purple 1x, only).

I sent away for the suit and went about my merry way. When it arrived on the UPS truck, I was giddy. Ted was home and I decided to try it on and ask his opinion. I could not get this suit designed for active ladies over size 14 that should have fit come up past my knees. I knew it should be snug, but if that bad boy ever had to be put on or taken off wet there were going to be paramedics involved.

Luckily, I thought ahead and knew their return policy. I packed it on up and sent that thing back.

Now for the visual......

Lighter moments

I have three unrelated stories of varying humor.

1. Over this past year, I have received numerous thank you cards, notices, and invitations from actual teachers with fairly common words that are misspelled. The most recent was the word definitely. Spelled definately. I have even gone so far as to correct a teachers spelling on the dry erase board in my son's first grade class. I could not help myself. But I still have to give the teachers their props. I haven't got the patience to deal with the little creatures. And I would be teaching them new words that would offend no matter how they were spelled.

2. On a trip to Bob Evans with my mother a while back we fought over the check as usual. My mother is notorious for snapping bones in the wrestle for a bill. Like a meal at Bob's is going to bankrupt whoever she is with. She won that round and traipsed her gloating heiny right up to the cashier. She placed the bill and $21 on the counter. The woman just looked at her expectantly. Mom looked back at her quizzically. Mom was waiting for her receipt and the cashier was waiting for the rest of the bill. My poor mother had given quite a tip, the only problem was she was paying the time stamp on the bill. (It is recorded in military time and was something like $18.26). We laughed so hard in the car that adult diapers were needed.

3. My recent volunteer work has led me to some mentoring opportunities with teens. A local bus driver was already doing some of this work and brought me in under his wing. On my first day, I was winding down a session with three girls. The man popped in to say it was time for them to change classes. The dark haired girl in the trio said she had to do a report on Harriet Tubman, so I piped up and offered my tidbit of knowledge. "Maybe I can help you get some extra credit. I happen to know that Harriet Tubman was narcoleptic. She was struck in the head with a weight by a former owner when she was a child." The girl stared at me blankly. The blonde on her right said after a moment,"Does that mean she steals stuff?" I explained that no, she didn't steal things. She would fall asleep at awkward and unpredictable times. Then the girl on the far right said "I wonder if she fell asleep on the road?"

The bus driver said without a flicker of humor "Nah, if she was that bad off, they wouldn'ta give her a drivers license."

No one in that room registered even the most remote flicker of knowing how wrong that was. Harriet Freaking Tubman?! The Underground Railroad?! Really, noone. Are you serious?

Alrighty then!

Sobering Moments

Finding out your well-liked physician is leaving the state to start a practice fifty miles away.

Discovering your pregnant, close enough to your own height friend is still 31 pounds lighter than you are.

Having to tell your husband that the surgery induced lovefest injunction that was lifted less than a week ago will have to be reinstated because I am a UTI wonderland.

When people you love pass away and you can't remember when you last saw them.

Bleeping piece of junk

I have been absent from the blogging scene for a few weeks now. It seems that I will have to use the laptop for anything that requires not being a bleeping piece of junk. I have been reading everyone's blogs and must say you are all very humorous.

But today I must relate my son Daniel's view of the world.....

He has been pretty dreamy with his speech lately. He just kind of lets sentences out in an ethereal breath. But that doesn't mean they make a lot of sense.

Last night he was talking breathily about my homemade chocolate chip cookies. I said I would make some and send them to his class on Monday. He looked lovingly at me and declared,"I knew you were thinking about us. Me and my whole classmates." Sigh.

At bathtime, I was washing him and he asked why I wasn't washing his face. Normally his father washes him like he's possessed and with a mission. I told him I had already washed his face, just gently. He breathed, "I love you more than daddy washes dishes." Um, ok. Then with even more rapture he declared,"I love you even more than you do the dishes." Yup, gotcha. Just dry off

Then he said, " I know how they washed dishes in the 1970's. They had to use a sponge to wash it off and then they put it in the water to dry. Can I wash dishes sometime like they did in the 1970's?" (With puppy eyes and true desire)

Of course, Daniel. Of course.

Mother's Day

My youngest son clearly has issues.

The book he gave me for Mother's Day had question starters that he finished.
For example:

I wonder if... she loves me more than my brother.

I wonder how... she knows what I am doing, like playing Pokemon with Cory.

I wonder when... she will pick me up from school.

And later in the day this conversation took place:

Daniel: I think Dad needs the code for the computer.

Me: Nope. He already knows it.

Daniel: Tell me what it is.

Me: Nope. It's just for grown ups. Ask me when you're forty.

Daniel (son of my loins who was comforted by my loving arms and nourished at my bosom):
When I'm forty you'll already be dead.

So apparently, you should all get your visits in now.
Night all
Heather

The Nature of Things

Rest In Peace
Hamstey/Lenny (the hamster)
July 2005-May 5, 2007

My mother is a saint and has taken all of our children to her home for the weekend. I will have to discover a way to force her to accept a token of appreciation because she just keeps throwing my money back at me.

While our children are gone, Ted and I have driven around in our Super Beetle and just hung out. We have sung old songs and laughed at silly roadside junk.

We passed the cemetery and I asked Ted to pull over. I haven't seen the man who had an oxygen tank there for some time and I have been meaning to check the grave. I learned their names and felt better to see his side of the plaque is not yet engraved with an expiration date.

Before we left for the evening, my husband went to clean the hamster cage. Unfortunately, the poor dear was DOA. An appropriate burial spot was selected and he was interred in the backyard, behind the garage.

Many of you will remember that the moving on of our family dog was not noticed for a VERY long time. Our current plan is to wait until a question is posed to us by Daniel. Then and only then will we be forced to discuss the passing of Hamstey/Lenny.

Maybe it was part of the pet food recall. Maybe it was the unexplained name change halfway through his life. Maybe it was his giant hamster hemorrhoids. Goodbye, Hamstey/Lenny. I will miss your squeaky wheel and your smelly smell.

Night all
Heather

Comedic Relief

Some of the strange quotes from the last narcotic induced week:

Heather to Ted(completely out of the blue, post op): I used your toothbrush! Hahahahahahah.


Heather to every living soul including the maintenance crew at Cabell Huntington to enter her hospital room no matter what hour (in an effort to appear with it and alert):
Good morning! How are you? I am fine. Ok, have a great day!

Heather to nutritionist: I had Jello last night.
Nutritionist: Oh! Well you can move to solid liquids, i.e, oatmeal.
Heather: Um, I'll take the Jello. Thanks anyway.


For anyone who wants a bit of humor, slip Heather any form of narcotic and you will see what a cheap drunk she is. And weird too!

She's back!!!

So there is no need to enforce my living blog will. I survived.

Apparently there was a little extra blood loss and a hard time with some stitches, but I woke up!

Yippee!

I was discharged Tuesday by 3:30pm. Wild, but true. You can have virtually any surgery these days and be out in half an hour.

I have had my first shower and feel a little less greasy. Note to anyone who is interested: Don't take it upon yourself to view your incision. Especially if you are already feeling good. It just makes you a little queasy.

Thank you all for your well wishes and kind words.
Now get back to being mean or go away... LOL
Love
Heather

best game ever

Just ignore my huge heinie!

I should have been a Boy Scout

My motto is always be prepared.

At least when it comes to things involving anesthesia and the potential (I stress only potential) of meeting ones maker.

As such, I have decided I must relay to all of you exactly how to handle my demise. (I am so not a control freak :0)

First off, believe me when I say I am not planning on checking out of this earthly plain anytime soon. But then again, we all know how these things just aren't quite up to us. So rest assured that I am not afraid of the great beyond. While I may qualify as a heathen in many views, I am confident that the higher powers are benevolent and caring. I have no fear (other than your basic mild fear of the unknown) about my soul.

Secondly, I love life and life has loved me. I have made wonderful friends, married a tender and kind man, and given birth to the most beautiful children on earth. I wouldn't change anything (and I mean ANYTHING). I wouldn't be happy and where I am if life hadn't thrown me a curveball now and again. So if you ever felt I was angry with you or that I hadn't formally forgiven you of something be at peace that I have.
In that vein, I would like to know that those I have offended have forgiven me. I extend my apologies to those who have been on the wrong end of my bad moods and ill tempers.

As far as my earthly remains, I would expect my usable parts to be distributed to people who could use them. Whatever is left over, just cremate and spread. Please, oh please, don't let Ted stick me on the mantel. He already vetoed my wish to be taxidermied with hinged knees and a bobble head, so I could rock on the porch and wave to passersby. The nerve.

He is only allowed to have a memorial service if it is to save his sanity. But, to help ease him through the stages of grief, the only songs I wish to have played are "I want a hippopotamus for Christmas" by Gayla Peavey and "You Lie and Yo' Breath Stank" by the Infectious Grooves. No mournful hymns and no sad ballads. If you must cry, cry with laughter at memories of my goofy life. PLEASE. I BEG YOU.

Ted will have plenty of memories of me. He and Cory will be able to picture me in their mind years from now if necessary, but the little ones will need to see my face. Show them. Help all three of my babies remember my laugh and not my bark. Help them remember how much I loved them, instead of how often I was angry. But if you see them doing stuff I wouldn't have let them do, jerk a knot in their tail.

Now, if I am able, I will try to communicate from the beyond.
You will recognize the following as signs of such:
1. Cans of Campbells soup appearing in your pillowcase
2. Being goosed by unseen hands
3. Your small children telling you "That lady says I am so cute she wants to eat me!" when no one is around.
4. Getting annoying, little known songs stuck in your head for days!
5. All of your chocolate disappears under mysterious circumstances.

So, now you all know how things should proceed, IF I should go. But I wouldn't count on it happening anytime to soon. I kinda like hanging around here and getting my feathers ruffled by each and every one of you. Besides, I have years of aggravating left in me to get out.

LOVE
Heather

She flung poo

My daughter is a self-confident, assertive, grab the world by the balls kind of righteous chick.

This is what I tell myself so I don't think negative thoughts ALL the time. :0)

In the past weeks, we have had a steady deterioration of our much welcomed good nights sleep. Our sweet little pumpkin face has destroyed all hope of a normal human baby gate being enough to contain her to her room for the purpose of rest. She hurdled a chest high gate without so much as a thought to the amount of clearance below. She could have walked under it, but was so peeved it didn't occur to her.

After constructing many obstacles to her exit, we waited. She screamed, whined, begged, stripped herself, her bed, emptied her dresser and then peed in the floor. Twice.

Next night.
She repeated the above (minus pee, add poo).

Tonight. Tonight she is wearing zip up pj's (thank you donutbabe) backwards. Two hours, but she is asleep. FOR NOW.

Stay tuned. There's more where that came from.

My next blog will be instructions to all of you ne'er do wells about how I wish to be handled and mourned should my date to meet my maker fall on my surgery date. (Disclaimer: I plan to be around a long time. I am not planning on croaking. If I do, I am not afraid.)

So check in tomorrow, all you crazy cats, to see what tunes will be piped in.

Love
Heather

yup, mm hmm

Fisher Price Fun To Learn Potty: $34.95

2 packs of C batteries from the local convenience store: $10.48

Training underwear/pretty incentive underwear: $1,000,000.00

An afternoon of your nude child running around like a loon, pretending to flush her turkey sandwich (realistic sounds courtesy of Fisher Price) while the MOTION SENSOR in the bowl continue to tell her she is GOING POTTY and doing a GREAT JOB: PRICELESS!!!!!

The Hostess with The Mostest

My daughter has been described as the hostess with the mostest by her birth to three workers. She is constantly bringing them things and swishing about making sure she is being seen. So it was no surprise when yesterday my neighbor-friend Jenny was babysitting that she was catered to in a most thorough way. Aurelia escorted our guest to the restroom and then offered her a fistful of extra absorbency tampons. SIGH.....

This morning, she was handing out the super sleek thin maximum absorbency sanitary napkins to Melanie, her 2 year old daughter Lydia, myself and then graciously she went last.

So, if you come for a visit and are offered any type of hygiene item, please don't take offense. I am trying to train her that cookies are always much more well received.

These things take time.

Heather

Crazy kids and dreams

Night before last, I had a dream. Not your average dream of daisies and sunny skies, but a weird dream. I was in my current house, only it seemed like my childhood house. The bed I was in was my supersingle waterbed from that childhood and I was sleeping. I woke to find a high school friend had sidled up beside me to chat. Groggily, I listened. Then Ted flung open the door and said,"Don't come check on you, huh? I'll kill you!!!" (UNTED-like behavior).

It seems after much conscious thought this high school friend lent a movie to Ted and I years ago. It was called American Hollow. The director of that movie was Rory Kennedy and she also directed Ghosts of Abu Ghraib (which I recently taped and saw the director on the View the day before). Such is the working of my sleeping brain.


In other news:

Daniel says today to Ted:

"My gym teacher's name is Mr. Cunningham. I wonder if that is his name because he likes to cut ham?"

Later, Ted says to Daniel:

"Ask him tomorrow."

Daniel replies:

"I already did and he said yes. He likes to cut ham."


THAT BOY.

Cradle of Love

This baby girl has the rhythm down in her heart.

I am fine

Today was my laproscopic doo hickey. I went in around 8 am and came home around 12pm. From what has been relayed to me through the family my doctor spoke with, I have stage three endometriosis. There are a few options for dealing with that and I will discuss them at length with him in our followup appointment. Endometriosis is not deadly, but mostly causes pain. It seems that some of the cells that should slough off of your uterus during menses wander out and make new homes in other places. Then they slough off there too, except they have no escape route and irritate other places. No biggee. Again I am fine, I feel good, and love you all.



Love
Heather

Day out with Daddy

On his day off, Ted took Aurelia to visit with his parents. Here are some pictures.

She came home to tell me all about Mama, Papa, eggs, bugs, sleep, and a bunch of other words she strung together. I think she had a great time. Thanks guys, for keeping her so occupied and happy. Love ya

Heather

Lately

I hear you all asking, "What has that Heather been up to lately?"

Well, today, I worked my son's book fair. Made multiple telephone calls. Picked up prescriptions. Had fingerprints taken for volunteer work. Had blood drawn for upcoming surgery. Cleaned aforementioned son's room with a trash bag and a ruthless cold heart. Then took poor son and even poorer son to see Bridge to Terabithia.

All the while, my husband had our daughter at his parents. It was a busy day, but nonetheless BABY free!

Daniel explained that he was going to date me. I felt I should let him in on the fact that when Daddy dated me he had to hold my hand, feed me, and kiss me. This did not deter my little interfamily dater. Apparently, while he will wed his little sister, I am ok for the dating. Cold chill, vaguely ill feeling.

My clothes arrived from the Indian website. I will share that I am VERY pleased with the fit and will post some pictures soon. I don't plan to be the spokesperson for this site, but if you feel the need to buy some custom fitted clothes that are very comfortable I will refer you. The site is www.eshakti.com and if you use my name and email address with your order, not only will you receive a $25 gift certificate from the company, so will I. Not too shabby.

Night all.
Heather

My dad is sick, my brother is having a 7 millimeter kidney stone surgically removed, and my grandma is selling her house to move to Lewisburg. I hope my dad feels better soon. Shannon, I hope you have a speedy recovery. Granma, I hate to see you go, but as long as your happy.

ENJOY LIFE!

Pink- Dear Mr President - Live

I love this song!

Self Affirmation

I am a good person. I am not stupid. I am not lazy. I take good care of my children and I love them. Just because I stay at home does not make me less than. I have skills. I can type faster than most front desk secretaries and with greater accuracy (including spelling). Just because I can do other, more domestic, tasks does not make me mentally dim.

I am working on a bachelor's degree in social work. I want to help people. It may take me a long time to finish, but I am DOING something in the mean time. I am trying to raise loving, responsible, intelligent, creative, beautiful children. I can't cook well. SO WHAT?! Does it make me less of a good wife? Hell no. If I forced my cooking upon us every night, I could be arrested.

Like so many of you out there like me, don't take the poopy anymore. I wipe shit daily, I don't need it from any of the holier-than-thou working force. I don't need to be reminded that I don't have an income check with my name on it. I don't need to be asked time and again when I will graduate and START my career. My life is good. I like it. So suck it up and face facts. I am fulfilled and happy. Maybe, just maybe, if you have to ask me questions about what I am NOT doing, it may reflect your less than happy life. Just a suggestion.

LOVE to all
Heather

Smile, you're on Candid Camera!

My daughter spent a little time in the basement with her daddy. He's been disassembling the transmission to our vintage VW Bug and she got a spot of transmission fluid on her finger. This is the snapshot that followed. :0)

So while she spends "quality" time with her daddy taking walks, painting, and flipping the bird, I have been reading. I am almost done with the third book in three days. They are all dismal with very little sunshine, but I feel almost like I did when I was little. Like I can't put the books down. I love that feeling.

Night all
Heather

Shed this outer layer and be free

My wish for my next life


If it is possible to have a next life, I wish to come back as something very flexible. Can I come back as wind? No obstacle would stand in my path; I would simply blow around it. How about a ribbon on the end of a child’s stick? I could fly through the air gracefully at the whim of a little one. I wouldn’t mind being clothes hung out to dry. The breeze and the sun on me as I bask in and absorb it all. Water, I could be water, with its fluid movement and the ability to wear down anything in my path given enough time.

Tonight I will dream I am these things. Tonight I will peek into a world with no restrictions, no limitations. Tonight, I fly, I bend, I flow!

Crying over spilled milk

I called birth to three about my daughters speech progress. I was making sure I was doing all I could to get our communication to it's highest level. The other day I was teasing her in the kitchen and telling her to give me "my" spoon. She kept saying 'mine' and then, apparently fed up, shook her head, placed the spoon behind her and said:

Don't take my poon.

Going to sleep last night she rolled over and said (while holding her chin),"MMMmmm, Lesseee."

I think she's coming along.

My son played at his friends house all day. He cried and hid when I came to get him. I even tried to bribe him with McD's. He said, " I wanna go to Toys R Us". Little shit.

So with Fazoli's and McD's in hand, I returned home.

I parceled out food while on the phone with my father-in-law. This entails trying to listen over the squeals and background noise of the poopers. I try to block it out. But the noise that prompted an end to our conversation was a pouring sort of sound. I looked all over the table, nothing. UNDER the table were the entire contents of a McD's regular milk jug.

I AM TIRED. But sleep comes less than two hours from now.

Night all.
Heather

Things Done Wrong Lately

No posts for days.

I labeled all the original Valentine's for the youngest boy with the name's of the recipients in the FROM box.

I bought a purse with Tinkerbell on it. Aurelia has confiscated it.

I bought a wallet to go with the purse. It turned out to be a cigarette case. (Lesson learned: don't shop with a two year old.)

A total lack of checking with truly loved family members.

There are a few things I may have done correctly:

I rebought AND relabeled Valentine's for the boy. He seemed to prefer the newer ones.

CASA volunteering.

Telling the kids I love them EVERYDAY.

Making time for myself.

And there are some decisions that remain to be categorized:

The decision to forego standard dress and try out custom made Indian (East, not Native American) attire. Something tame and modest. And not wedgie-riffic.

Deciding I think a hysterectomy is the most all encompassing solution to my simply annoying female issues.

Thoughts?
Heather

My dad's girlfriend

This is the picture my dad would pull out of his wallet. He would tell all the kids it was his girlfriend just to watch them scrunch their faces. It is actually a picture compiled of different peoples facial features. Notice the eyes are different. Anyway, this picture scared the hell out of me. But my dad was like that.

He hired my aunt to sniff the farts out of the seats of his car when she was little. He used to fart in church and say loudly "Oh Faye!" which never failed to mortify my mother. He is the worlds most notorious pull my finger man. But he came by it honestly.

My grandfather, my dad's father, would tell us we were Shinn kids. (This was an insult mixed occasionally with being a Myers (my mom's maiden name), a Wiseman, or a Bishop.) If we got hurt playing, he would furrow his brow and ask why we had hurt his buddy. But most unforgettable to me was EVERY Saturday night. I always spent Saturday night at their house. My brother had Fridays. Hee Haw was a Saturday night staple and there was a woman who wore rag curlers and a tattered moo-moo. My grandpa would always say my mom had dropped me off at their house to go to work (as the Hee- Haw woman). Now I knew he was pulling my leg, but my brother would get fired up!

Apparently, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I say things to my children (and other people's children) that are clearly in jest. But today my daughter was being evaluated by birth to three. The lady was showing some pictures and getting her to say the names of the pictures. Most responses were some unintelligible generic word and a few clear ones thrown in. Then I heard Aurelia say very clearly and quicly MOMMY. She wasn't looking at a woman's picture. It was a picture of ..............

a clown. That's my girl.

Heather

I think I need a shower

I have been exploring some ways to get a better nights sleep. We replaced the girl's single bed with a queen size mattress (plenty of room for mommy's fat arse.) I have been taking my medication like a good girl. And then I decided to go to the chiropractor. I asked my doctor for a suggestion, alas that one was not in my insurance network. So left to my own devices, I consulted the all knowing phone book.

No X-rays were taken, no real cracking took place. This doctor is a fan of the pretzel adjustment that I despise. She also pulled my ears to check my sinus something or other and knucklerubbed my clavicle. A little odd. Not to mention that her lipstick was noticeably outside the lines of her lips. By a lot.

From her "adjustment room" I was moved to a "massage room". Bobby was the man of the day in his convict scrubs and black steel toed boots. The room was ice cold and Bobby had the unsteady aura in his hands of teenage virgin. I came away smelling like massage lotion and feeling a little soiled. Let's be clear, I love massage therapy. I am totally for chiropractic care, but I am certain that there must be a standard to follow.

And after Friday's surprise vaginal ultrasound I am just a little too violated for any further strangeness.

Heather

Books rock

When I was a little girl, I loved to read. I loved to read in a way that was a little abnormal. No matter where I was, who was there, what was going on I would rather be reading. I didn't read a single type of book. I read anything that I could get my grubby paws on. Many books were beyond me, but I read them anyway. Some would have been snatched from my curious little grip if my mom had found them. Others were an introduction to what the world is really like outside of your comfortable home. One of my early favorites was a book called One Child by Torey Hayden. It was part of a collection of Reader's Digest condensed books at my grandmothers. Even this book was a little sugar coated. A little girl named Sheila was badly abused and in need of special education. Torey was a teacher in special education at that time. One part of the book describes how they read the book The Little Prince byAntoine de Saint Exupery. The taming of the fox was related to the taming of Sheila. I had never read the book, but it seemed a fitting tale.

Fast forward to this past week.

I have been reading a book to Daniel at bedtime. A few chapters a night. It's called The Little Prince. It didn't down on my feeble mind that this was THE book.
Last night we read the chapters that included the taming of the fox. I almost cried.

As I was reading, Daniel said, "Remember his volcanoes. They only come up to his knees." And they tell me he needs to work on comprehension. Pshaw. He needs to love what he is comprehending and he loves mommy time.

Since books work in circles for me, I have now reserved all of Torey Haydens books available through the library here. I plan to have Cory read them. It may also revisit that piece of me that has always wanted to get in the dogfight for kids.

Books used to be like Thanksgiving for me. I would just keep piling it in and never be full. I miss that feeling.

Night all.
Heather

Quotes from sweet babies

In the library today:

Miss Barbara sings: What is your name? My name is..... (laying her hand on little girls head)

Little Girl: FATBOY!

(Mother hides face, holding baby that little girl refers to as FATBOY)


Daniel: Oh, no, you will not put your big fat butt on me! (speaking to me)


During our play date, Miss Eleanor asked her mother: Mommy, can you come in here? Can you waddle around and be a hen?

and Aurelia's new catchphrase, performed with great facial animation and excitement:
Baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, baby, babee, baaaabeeeeeee(==the last two babies being growled as she inches frighteningly close to my face while rolling her eyes into her head and doing jazz hands!)

Reasons my son cannot use the computer. AT ALL

Lots of people are willing to give you their two cents when it comes to how you are raising your children. I have tried to take most of it with a grain of salt, because how does anyone know how to deal with someone else's childrens quirks. But one rule I have for anyone under 18 in this house seems to garner much more spirited comments than the others (usually from my mother.) I don't allow my children on the computer. At all. I used to, but my oldest proved early on that he simply was not able to control the urge to see what was so great about forbidden content. Now, I don't operate under a constant fear that someone is plotting to steal or abuse my children, but I know that there is a chance it could happen. I know that no matter how much I tell them to be careful there are those out in the world that can convince them to do the exact opposite of what I have asked.

My oldest son is a strapping young lad. I can only give him a hug or get a kiss from him if he wants me to. I don't fear that someone will be able to overpower him. It just isn't likely. But they could outwit him. They could entice him.

So after watching the latest To Catch a Predator show from Dateline NBC, I will say again: My kids are not allowed on the computer. I know where the library is when assignments require encyclopedias and research. And should they be required to use the internet for some reason beyond my control, you had better bet your sweet patootie that I will be right over their shoulder and checking their cookies.

I mean for the love of Pete, you can buy these:

http://www.truck-nuts.com/index.html

What has the world come to?

Frankly

I have to be quite frank. Lately, I have been annoying myself. There has been an overuse of the word frankly in my vocabulary. I find my self saying things like:

Frankly, my dear Aurelia, I don't give a damn.
or
Daniel, I frankly cannot listen to another joke.
or
Cory I refuse to pick up your dirty underwear without a hazmat suit and a stick. Frankly.

Also, there has been an increase in Heather's need to reference herself in the third person.
When unable to make intelligible conversation, Heather points out that she is falling off of a mental cliff for lack of consistent sleep.

Frankly, Heather would like to know what you suggest she do about this problem!

A Better World

Last night I began training for a program called CASA. For those unfamiliar with it, CASA stands for court appointed special advocate. Volunteers are trained and appointed by a judge to represent the best interests of the child(ren) in abuse and neglect cases.

One of the most daunting statistics we learned last night is the sheer number of cases. There are too many cases in too many counties to give each one a volunteer. They just do not have enough to go around. While the children will have counsel to represent their interests, the system is overloaded. Social workers have 30-80 cases each. In a given month, they may be able to spend only two hours on a single case. They need the assistance to help find the best solutions for children that may otherwise slip through the cracks.

My social work studies are what brought me to know about this program. I know none of us really has "spare" time. But if you think you would like to make a difference I am going to link CASA's website on my sidebar.

My children drive me nuts, but at the end of the day I want them to know they are loved. I don't ever foresee my own children will experience anything close to the experiences of the children I will meet. But I would like to think that if they were in those circumstances there would be someone looking out for them.

Night all.
Heather

Oh that crazy uterus

I went to the doctor today. We agreed that many of my aches and pains may not improve until my sweet little monkey daughter gets older and tires of my constant presence. But we did discuss this pain that seems to come monthly and is enough to lift me out of my seat. Endimetriosis and fibroids are the suspected culprits. He suggested I talk to an OB/GYN about my options which spell out to this:

A) Take birth control pills that will cease the periods from coming.

Problem: My hair falls out on the pill last took and my husband would likely divorce me. I have been described as less than gentle and loving with those things in my system.

B) I could become pregnant.

Problem(s): Temporary solution with a long term result. I was just the other day saying if by some crazy way I had become pregnant, THEY (we do not know who they are) could not MAKE me keep it. I would just give it to Jenny. I clearly made the right decision when Ted got clipped.

C) I could have a hysterectomy.

Problem: Um, it's surgery. It's permanent (although the above solution was not a keeper either.) And my grandmother has had to have her innards jacked up and stitched THREE times since her hysterectomy. I dunno.

D) I could grin and bear it. (This option looks better and better.)


So I will go talk to this doctor and have this ultrasound and see what sounds the most reasonable. But I will feel better for the rest of the day knowing I apparently am better off in the health department than 90% of the people in the waiting room.

High School Meme

Fill this out about your YEARS of high school! The longer ago it was, the more fun the answers will be.
Who was your best friend?
There wasn't a best friend. I had a collection of friends that seemed like a single unit. Ah, the illusions of youth.

What kind of car did you drive?
I actually didn't try to get my license until I was 18.

It’s Friday night. Where were you?
Gail's, babysitting, or at home.

Were you a party animal?
Not by your standard party animal definition.


Were you considered a flirt?
My unfortunate nickname was "ho". :0(

Ever skip school?
Yes.

Were you a nerd?
By whose definition? I was certainly nerdy, but there were nerdier than I.

Did you get suspended/expelled?No.

Can you sing the fight song?
I can hum it.

Who was your favorite teacher?
Mr. Humphrey's

Favorite class?Mr. Humphrey's Algebra class


What was your school’s full name?
Herber Hoover High
School mascot?A pillager of sorts

Did you go to Prom?
Oh yes. And the dancing was grand.

If you could go back and do it over, would you?
No. I like who I am and where I have been. Even when it was wrong, rough, or painful, it's my life and you can't have it.

What do you remember most about graduation?
All the students stood and prayed because it had been forbidden by someone somewhere.

Who was your high school sweetheart?
Larry Eugene White, Jr.

Where were you on senior skip day?Sigh. In class.

Did you have a job your Senior year?
No.

Where did you go most often for lunch?The cafeteria. It was a closed campus.

Have you gained weight since then?
I weighed around 100lbs. then. I have had three children. There was no avoiding it.

What did you do after graduation?
Went to a hotel with my boyfriend/high school sweetheart. Sleeping was the only thing on the agenda though. Really. I swear.

When did you graduate?1993

Who was your Senior prom date?
Larry Eugene White, Jr.


Are you going to your 10yr class reunion?
I didn't go to any of the keggers described as reunion. I don't foresee that I will feel the need before I die either.

Who was your home room teacher?
Sweet Lord, I don't rememeber. EEEK

Who will repost this after you?
Dunno.

Crazy Kids

We had a snow day yesterday. Ted proclaimed it to be ridiculous (for our children yes, not so much for outlying schools). It gave me the chance to take some pictures and wonder at my children.

The style of the baby is to die for! She picked up her six year old brothers

silky green basketball shorts and put them on. They touch her ankles when she stands up. She added a lovely sweater and her new Alaskan looking houseboots to the mix. My daughter has apparently been watching episodes of Punky Brewster when I am not around!

Her thoughts on this --------->

Daniel has a very loose tooth. The new tooth is coming in behind it and pushing it forward. SO it just hangs there. He can shut his jaw and that tooth sits in front of the upper ones. It is very amusing! I believe we will have a visit from a certain dental fairy this week.

I have been watching the weather. I think tomorrow is safe for them to return to school. Yippee!

I hope those with the flu feel better soon and I really hope those without the flu don't get it. But either way keep those funky germs to yourself!! LOL

Night all

Heather

Angels Aplenty

These are my sweet little devils. The finished product after the picture date from hell. Believe it or not, this is the first and BEST picture the poor lady was able to capture before sliding off the table and nose picking commenced. Enjoy. It will be a full cycle round the sun before we attempt this again.

Mothering 101

To those of you unfamiliar with my parenting style, lets just call it unconventional. I believe in doing whatever seems like it will work in the moment. It may not be consistent long term, but it keeps the little trolls on their toes.

The oldest was reported absent to us by the automated system in his school. He claimed to have been ill during English. After an email exchange with said teacher it was discovered that he spent 18 minutes in the nurses office. Her class is 41 minutes long. HMMM.

She also shared that his grade for this six weeks is a startling 62%. Six missing assignments, no signed midterms (for points).

So I waited. He came home and was prepared for the standard disappointed look and lecture. But I made him sit on the floor and forbade him to use any term that was similar to "I don't know." He was going to be active in the conversation whether he liked it or not.

I laid out for him how his poor choices had kept him from some pretty cool stuff. I also added that if he thought for a single second that I was out of ideas to worsen his creature comfort level he was sadly mistaken. I would get him a weekly crew cut. I would throw out all his long socks and force him to wear the ultra low cut sports socks. I would give away all his marginally cool clothes and dress him in pink corduroy (he hates corduroy more than pink) and salmon shirts. There would only be secondhand shoes. Eating fast food would no longer be availabe to him (even if the family was having pizza).

On the flip side, I tried to highlight the many good things that could be accomplished by his smallest of efforts. He would be allowed out into the sun, to have friends over, to go to friends houses, attend functions, have a job, a learner's permit, dates. ETC ETC.

So the moral he should walk away with is this:\

Mommy loves you. Mommy wants good things for you. Mommy will help you anytime. But Mommy is not afraid to make the world she brought you into a place destitute of fun. Don't tempt Mommy. Mommy knows all.

Very humble don't you agree.:0)

Night all
Heather

Fire Prevention

There have been a number of fires in the past few months near our city. I would like to ask each of you that read my blog to take a couple of minutes to check the batteries in your smoke detectors, make sure you have enough of them, know where your fire extinguishers are in your home (and how to use them). I would also like you to think of escape routes and any difficulties you might encounter. I have small children and we will be purchasing some of the ladders that can be rolled up and stored (hopefully never to be used.)

Anyway, just as a favor to dear old me, take a few minutes out of your busy day to check you house out. I would also suggest that those with little ones try to get some of the decals from the fire departments that alert them which rooms the children are in. They just stick to the window. Easy breezy!

Thanks
heather

I dunno

I haven't the energy to give you my own thoughts, except to quote them from others.

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, The courage to change the things I can, And the wisdom to know the difference."

Dear Lord, It's such a hectic day,
With little time to stop and pray,
For Life's been anything but calm,
Since You called me to be a Mom,
Running errands, matching socks,
Building dreams with matching blocks,
Cooking, cleaning, finding shoes,
And other stuff that children lose,
Fitting lids on bottled bugs,
Wiping tears and giving hugs,
A stack of last week's mail to read,
So where's the quiet time I need?
Yet, when I steal a moment, Lord,
Just at the sink or ironing board,
To ask the blessings of Your grace,
I see them, in my small one's face,
That you have blessed me
All the while --
And I stoop to kiss
That precious smile.
~~ Author Unknown ~~


When I look at a patch of dandelions, I see a bunch of weeds that are going to take over my yard.
My kids see flowers for Mom and blowing white fluff you can wish on.
When I look at an old drunk and he smiles at me, I see a smelly, dirty person who probably wants money and I look away.
My kids see someone smiling at them and they smile back.
When I hear music I love, I know I can't carry a tune and don't have much rhythm so I sit self consciously and listen.
My kids feel the beat and move to it. They sing out the words. If they don't know them, they make up their own.
When I feel wind on my face, I brace myself against it. I feel it messing up my hair and pulling me back when I walk.
My kids close their eyes, spread their arms and fly with it until they fall to the ground laughing.
When I pray I say Thee and Thou and grant me this, give me that.
My kids say, "Hi God!!! Thanks for my toys and my friends. Please keep the bad dreams away tonight. Sorry, I don't want to go to Heaven yet. I would miss my Mommy and Daddy."
When I see a mud puddle, I step around it. I see muddy shoes and clothes and dirty carpets.
My kids sit in it. They see dams to build, rivers to cross and worms to play with.
I wonder if we are given kids to teach or to learn from?
~~ Author Unknown ~~


The house is untidy from window to door, Marks on the walls and food on the floor.
The washing's unwashed and the dishes are too, There's scum in the bathroom And fat on the stew.
There are toys in the passage And under our feet; The garden's a jungle When seen from the street.
So what have I done, thenTo earn my repose? To just look around me You'd say no-one knows!
I've held a small hand As her first steps she took.
I've made animal noises As we read a book.
I've built a mud pie And admired a snail.
I've rescued the cat From a grip on her tail.
I've wiped away tears, And I've listened to tales.
I've used mediation To get smiles from wails.
So I guess what I've done Isn't easy to see -
It won't clean the house And it won't cook the tea.
But if I have helped make a child feel good, know that she's loved and that she's understood, then I know that my work, though not easy to see, is just as important as any could be.
~~ Author Unknown ~~

Come in, but don't expect to find All dishes done, all floors ashine.
Observe the crumgs and toys galore. The smudgy prints upon the door.
The little ones we shelter here Don't thrive on a spotless atmosphere.
They're more inclined to disarray And carefree even messy play.
Their needs are great, their patience small. All day I'm at their beck and call.
It's Mommy come! Mommy see! Wiggly worms and red scraped knees.
Painted pictures, blocks piled high. My floors unshined, the days go by.
Some future day they'll flee this nest, And I at last will have a rest!
Now you tell me which matters more, A happy child or a polished floor?
~~ Author Unknown ~~


Love is scaring away monsters in the middle of the night, then again at 1:00 a.m., 2:00 a.m., 3:00 a.m.
Love is putting peanut butter on anything as long as they'll eat it!
Love is knowing how to disguise vegetables 30 different ways.
Love is reading the same bedtime story for the 999th time.
Love is a hug around the knees.
Love is watching Mr. Rogers instead of All My Children.
Love is cutting off the crusts.
Love is a refrigerator covered with creative works of art.
Love is not grimacing through the dirtiest of diapers.
Love is trading in the Camero for a station wagon.
Love is the magic kiss that heals all owies.
Love is a cuddly kid in a blanket sleeper.
Love is the first kick, first smile, first laugh, first step, first anything.
Love is your child pointing to a picture of Christie Brinkley and saying "mama".
Love is your child sound asleep, any child sound asleep.
Love is a macaroni necklace.
Love is wearing the macaroni necklace to church with pride.
Love is a peanut butter kiss, a syrup kiss, a chocolate kiss, any kind of kiss.
Love is when Bert & Ernie replace Robert Redford & Tom Selleck as your most admired men.
Love is not worrying about those few extra pounds cuz they make you more cuddly.
Love is knowing how to get out amoxicillin stains.
Love is a bouquet of dandelions.
Love is the smell of a baby's neck.
Love is saying no at the right times when it is easier to say yes.
Love is saying yes at the right times when it's easier to say no.
~~ Author Unknown

and my personal favorite today

Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray that my sanity to keep;
For if some peace I do not find, I'm pretty sure I'll lose my mind.
I pray I find a little quiet Far from the daily family riot;
May I lie back ... not have to think About what they're stuffing down the sink,
Or who they're with, or where they're at, And what they're doing to the cat.
I pray for time all to myself (Did something just fall off a shelf?)
To cuddle in my nice, soft bed (Oh no! Another goldfish ... dead!)
Some silent moments for goodness sake (Did I just hear a window break?)
And that I need not cook or clean ... (Well heck! I've got the right to dream!)
Yes, now I lay me down to sleep, I pray my wits about me keep;
But as I look around I know ... I must have lost them long ago!
~~ Author Unknown ~~

Stranger Danger

I will not beat the dead horse that is my daughters refusal to sleep. I will not speak of it again until I have fixed the problem.

In happier news, the boys that were found in MO made me very happy. Although they may have endured vile things at the hands of this man, they are now home with the families that loved and prayed for them every day they were gone. My mind keeps going back to the kid whose life was made into that movie "I know my first name is Stephen". His life ended tragically because of so much sadness, but he was a hero to the little boy that was taken when they decided to escape. His brother ended up killing women in the park where he worked. I hope these families are able to help the boys and shield them from prying eyes and insensitive media. None of us need to know what happened to them. They need to be allowed to deal with it and put it behind them.

I will certainly be updating my kids ID cards, fingerprints, photos and all my instructions on NEVER going with strangers and how to defend themselves.

Night all
Heather

To the victor go the spoils

This past week I have engaged in a full out war to get my sweet darling little girl to sleep by herself. I have cajoled, begged, bribed, threatened, ignored, and given serious thought to drugging her. I have purchased the inflatable sleeping bag bed because I felt like a horrible mother letting her sleep on the floor where she passed out. But the truth is, I concede victory to a 40 pound terrorist who just happens to live across the hall.

I will lie down with her. I will sleep in her bed. She can smell my hair. I will hang off the edge of a dangerously short twin bed (for a six foot plus mommy). If doing all of this means that I will in exchange be able to close my eyes, not hear her screaming, and even (dare I say it?) sleep for a precious few hours, then consider it done.

I am hoping that in the days, months, years to come her speech will develop and I will be more able to reason with her. Logic will become my friend. I will even welcome the day when I fall out of her favor for a friend or beloved toy. But I say that now, when I am sleep deprived and cranky.

Years from now, in the retirement home, I will reminisce about the sweet smell of her baby breath, her need to be close to her mommy, and how pretty they were when they were unconscious. All I can hope for is that I will get regular calls from the children I have given up my sanity for. That's all I'm askin kids, just call your mama.
Just don't call me when I am snoozin! :o)

Night all
Heather P.

Twinken has been recovered!!

So we have recovered Twinken, but the baby won't sleep. She refuses to sleep on her bed and will only pass out on the floor after a great deal of screaming and fit throwing. Last night was a doozy. Today, we bought an inflatable sleeping bag from Target. I am beginning to feel like we live in a hut. Tomorrow should answer the question " Will the inflatable slumber bag be the answer to all Heather's prayers?"

Meanwhile, Cory/Adam has produced an authentic looking document that claims he has a 96% in his 9th grade history class. I am hoping that if it is indeed true, perhaps he will have been able to pull the proverbial rabbit out of his hat with the other classes. I will find out in about two weeks.

I also want to invite anyone who is interested in viewing fainting goats to help me search out the closest farm location and come along for a field trip. Those myotopic goats, gotta love 'em.
http://www.compfused.com/directlink/765/

Heather

Thank God for friends

So Buck frickin Rogers can't get his fat ass in the spaceship, but apparently Stephen Hawking is going to take his non-verbal heiny into the outer reaches of space by the year 2009. Feeling just a little upside down today.

My daughter decided to take a chance and change her sleeping schedule when I went out of town a few weeks ago. This has led to the rail being taken off of her bed (because she flings herself out of the bed and looks like an abused child). She also has convinced me (sans words) to lie down with her the first, second, third, etc., etc. times she needs to go to sleep. I am sleep deprived. Last night was rough. I was in her room from 8 til 10:15 the first time. Then at midnight she dragged me to her room and I was captive in her very short, narrow twin bed until after six this morning.

My friend, Melanie, took pity on me and offered to watch her this morning. It gave me just enough time to hatch a plan. This evening, I followed the normal routine all the way up to the part where I am expected to give her my hair and wait for the shallow breathing. NOPE. Not tonight. I rocked her and then tried to place her ever so gently in the bed. SURE! That happened. She leapt from the bed with a banshee scream and spent the next hour and a half trying to figure out how to get on my lap ( I was in the rocker). She eventually sat in her little wicker chair at the end of the bed and quasi passed out. I put a blanket on the floor with her toddler pillow (she refused the bed at every turn) and that is where she is now. ON THE FLOOR. I am going to need a lot of sleep next week, cause this week is not looking so great.

Night all
Heather

Aaargh

I am currently watching a Discovery Health Channel special on extreme ways people have lost lots of weight. Then to my ultimate surprise they show BUCK frickin ROGERS. He is over 350 pounds and in medical danger. There will apparently be special devoted to his struggle. Did I mention it was THE Buck Rogers?!! Dear God(sigh).

My son has recovered his Twinken. It was on our front porch in the basket of my swing. Yippee. No more hangdog looks and sly remarks about how sad he is.

Our oldest son is pissed that I will not buy him a backpack. Now, his logic seems to be that I promised him a backpack if his grades were good and it should count that his first six weeks grade card was great. We should simply ignore the facts that he is now in the proverbial grade toilet and also uses any bag as a collection spot for lost homework and trash.

So this evening I am running away. My friend and I are going to the Funny Bone. I plan to give no thought to my children in the hours that I am away. Maybe when I come back, I will feel less like throwing them all in the garbage. EGAD

Heather

Granma's having triplets

Over the weekend, my 13 year old cousin came to stay with us. While he was here there was a news story on CNN about a 67 year old woman having twins. I mentioned that was just a mere eleven years younger than our grandmother. My cousin wrinkled his face in disgust at the thought of such nonsense, but my younger sons interest was peaked. He asked which granma. I said Grandma Frances. Feeling a little like pulling his chain, I said she was going to have triplets, not just twins. He didn't seem to ask much more and went about his business.

Later, my husband was on the couch after the kids had gone to bed (about two days later). He said, "Your son believes your grandmother is going to have triplets. He told me she was going to have three babies on the same day, they would all look the same, and be brothers like him and Cory." Trying not to pee myself, I asked what his response was. He had firmly said Granma Frances was not having ANY babies, but Daniel said, "Yes she is. She married Granpa Fletcher."There will be no convincing this child. He firmly believes that once one gets married the babies will be forthcoming.

Now this should have clued me in to the fact that my delivery of the sarcasm is just a little too believable. Alas, after our New Year's brunch, I called up my friend to mess with her a bit. When she answered the phone I tried my best to be serious and said," Melanie, I am going to ask you a question, and I want you to be nothing but honest and forthcoming (BIG CLUE, I DON'T NORMALLY USE FORTHCOMING IN CONVERSATION) with your answer. While you were here earlier, did you steal my......... ( at this point she ceased hearing what I was saying, trying to think what she may have stolen LOL) my MOJO." She spent a few uncomfortable seconds absorbing what I had said. I really must work on my sense of humor. But seriously, I can't find my MOJO anywhere. Let me know if you find it. :0)

Long day with crazy kids

Took Aurelia to the big "W" this morning to have her yearly picture taken with my goddaughter Destiny. They both wear the same dresses and it is so adorable. BUT they have decided to Stop Being Adorable. Neither of them would smile, put down their dress bottoms, stay on the table, quit picking their noses, chewing on their tongues, etc, etc, etc,......

We bought the $5.88 package of the first pitiful pose and went about our business. Perhaps better luck will be had if we take home photos of the separately and photoshop them together.

Daniel, poor Daniel, is offering a reward of one bazillion dollars to the kind soul that can find and return his beloved Twinken to him. He went missing shortly before Christmas. We believe he was last seen in our home and is still within its walls. Sadly, moving every piece of furniture and looking behind toilets has not given us any leads. May your thoughts be with this sad, sad, sad loose toothed little guy.

My sweet neighbor Jenny is allegedly over the hump from her nasal surgery. I am hoping she is on the upward swing. Love ya, Jenny!

And finally, I have a friend. You know who you are. I won't out you here. But you are perhaps the nuttiest person ever. I bet you fell asleep at 7 :30 , go ahead admit it. Couple of fuddy duddies. :0) When you gather the energy to leave your "mushroom home" let me know. I will mind the pixies.

Night all
Heather

Heartwarming and heartbreaking

My recent visit to my mothers the Friday prior to Christmas was very nice, UNTIL we had to leave. My youngest son pouted, shot a feww dagger looks my way, and as we were getting in the van I heard him say, "I am running away from home." I immediately said EXCUSE ME? WHY would you be running away? "Because sometimes you are SO mean to me and you beat my butt!!" was his response. This is from the boy who writes me forty eight thousand I Love you notes every day. He apologized later and admitted he could not even remember the last "beating" he had received (um, maybe, because I don't beat him, just a thought).

This same little boy ate some mini pancakes Saturday and discovered that his first tooth has started to wiggle. Lower right front. I am excited for him and look forward to the big gap toothed smiles and lisps, but I am going to miss my baby. I had forgotten the transformation with Cory( now nearly all grown up). He is too big to sit on my lap for bed time stories. Literally. I just want to squish him and keep him little for a bit longer.

Aurelia has not been administered any allergy medication for sleeping purposes in many days. I have developed an adapted sleeping routine. It involves me lying on her bed until she passes out. Then I sneak off and do my evening stuff. At about 2am she comes to our bed, knowing full well we will be too tired, warm, and comfortable to refuse her entry. I am trying to merge my conscious self and night time self into a solid "take you back to bed" response. So far, nah dah.

As she opened her Christmas gifts, I was taken back by how beautiful my baby girl really is. Now I don't say this to brag or call other kids ugly. But she has a little sass, hair I would die for, and a laugh I never want to stop listening to. She really REALLY loved her dress up dress, dress up shoes, tiara, and her life size doll that has far too much boobage for my tastes. I am going to need help from girly girls to figure out what to do for this little diva. I was and still am a tomboy of sorts. Make up and fine clothing only wind up making me feel fake and inadequate. I want her to be able to express herself and be confident about it.

Did I mention that I love these kids? All three of them. Just love them silly.

Heather