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

My son is an eating wonder :0)

The tides shifted in the brief time I was gone to visit my grandmother. A less than 48 hour trip to Virginia (to love on my 78 year old recent surgery victim grandmother mind you) my daughter decided to undo all the sleepy night time goodness we had achieved since moving. Apparently, our neighbors across the street had a party and this was upsetting to poor Baby Girl. Maybe because she wasn't invited.

Last night, as ashamed as I am, I took the snot of tears to indicate that the store brand allergy medicine (drowsy formula) should be administered. Sleep was accomplished shortly before midnight.

She has also decided not to walk ANYWHERE, ANYMORE. We had a long morning in the grocery store that included her collapsing in the salsa aisle and removing her shoes, being shoved into the seat on the front of the cart and causing clerks to repeatedly ask HER if SHE was ok! What about me?!


But we did manage to have a nice evening with friends last night. No major crisis was initiated while we were eating. No one screamed in pain. No fist fights or threats of bodily harm were overheard.

So the upside to this downward swing is that now I have a couple of other people who may not be in the same boat, but are rowing near enough to sympathise. (Of course, when necessary, my empathy will be given to those on the other side.) :0)

I hope you all have had or will have wonderful holidays with your families and loved ones. I will be watching my kids on Christmas morning to see the things that make me love them even when they are despicable, snot coated, creatures.

Heather

Reading Rainbow

Recently, I was talking to a friend about my older sons reading choices. He likes graphic novels (comic book style), fantasy, sci-fi, and other things I have no understanding of. I have tried to steer his preferences to no avail. But it occurred to me as I was talking that I should not be critical of WHAT he is reading. I should simply revel in the fact that he does indeed read. As a matter of fact, all of my children share my love of books. Cory is almost as excited about a new book from the library as he is about what is for dinner/dessert/breakfast/snack.

Another friend asked me when I began to read. I honestly cannot remember a time I wasn't reading or thinking about reading. Books were the best thing in the whole world. I was a shy girl, I didn't travel, and until our move this summer I had lived in the same town for over thirty years. Books were where I learned about different people and how to respect them. I was able to visualize the other worlds and feel things that were new.

Books have always welcomed me with open arms. There are no socially awkward moments. I was able to, in a way, try on the skin of other people and their perspectives through the stories. I hope it has made me better than I might have been.

I will try to be less bothered by what they choose to read and more encouraged that they love to do it. I hope they find friends in the stories; worlds that help them figure out who they really want to be.

Moms in the Mob

Against all odds, a frappucino drink that was brought into this house less than 8 hours ago is still sealed and intact. I believe the oldest boy was so offended that I would not allow him to ingest ALL of the thirty some cookies I baked today that he went on a hunger strike. (But it would have to last years to make up for the dent his regular eating has made in the food supply.)However, recent actions on his part may make it possible to send him on an "extended holiday". Please don't be alarmed if he is not mentioned or seen for a while. :0)

My friend noted that I was carrying "the bloody mermaid shoes" in my van. She was not using a British term, the shoes are actually bloody. What can I say, the girl is dedicated to fashion at the cost of her own precious feet.

The middle child was able to perform his puking martyr act this morning. As he kneeled on the floor of his room, wretching uncontrollably, he managed to firmly state, " i'm ok. I think it was the Baked Cheez Bits. "

Neighbor/friend Jenny has announced that Daniel is now betrothed to her daughter. This is in an effort to induce all night sleep. Good luck to the new couple! I have offered our "Blue Room" as the bridal suite. There the two happy lovebirds can quibble over what cartoons to watch, whose turn it is to jump on the bed, and any miscellaneous paper tubes. Just like all your average American couples these days.

Night all
Heather

Oh Come All Ye Faithful

I asked a friend if Jesus was mentioned in the song Joy to the world after she mentioned her son (they keep a Jewish household)had learned the song and referenced Baby Jesus at home. I began to hum the tune and then sing the words... Joy to the world, all the boys and girls, joy to the fishies in the deep blue sea, joy to you and me.

I was the slightest bit mortified to discover that this was the wrong song. Apparently, I have not been brushing up on my Christmas carols and have only been listening to the oldies station where Three Dog Night is a popular choice.

I have completed the first of two quilts for my Dad. If I don't finish the second for Christmas he will never know. He doesn't read this blog (or any that I know of). He also doesn't know I planned to quilt two. YAY.

Quick survey:
What is the song you were most mortified to learn you were singing all the wrong lyrics to?

My personal favorite is hearing someone sing:

Blinded by the light
Wrapped up like a douche in the middle of the night!

Night all
Heather

Confessions of a Christmas Madwoman

Things have been quiet on the blog front. But now I have BIG news. I hornswaggled, nagged, bothered, interrogated my sweet husband to the brink of insanity and the payoff was huge. It was revealed to me what he had gotten me for Christmas.

His first mistake was telling me he had THE gift. That he was going to get up at 4:30am on Black Friday and SHOP for THE gift. This peaked my interest.

I guessed about THE gift, he laughed. He refused to confirm or deny.

I snooped and found no evidence.

Then, he bought THE gift. While he was on the phone with his father and sufficiently distracted, I stole his wallet. There was the pot of gold. A sticky note with websites..... Wooohoooo!
He was sad. He insisted he would not give me THE gift until Christmas.

So I made him an offer he couldn't refuse. And now I am in possession of my very own..........

LAPTOP!

OH the joy! I had originally asked for one when I started college. Now that I am waiting for the youngest to start kindergarten to resume that higher level of education I will play tons of internet backgammon and solitaire.


Sorry Ted,
Heather

Dumpster Cats

I Googled my name (and my family members names) today. I was bored and checking on my teenagers antics. I found this:

To: fhp@hsmv.state.fl.us
Received: Via E-Mail
My name is Heather Porterfield and I had occasion to travel thru the town of Yulee on I-95. I stopped at a convenience store/souvenier stand (Wayfara) with my two children and my mother on our way back to West Virginia. I locked my keys in my car and had to walk across the street to an Exxon station to call a locksmith. No one was answering and I was becoming afraid. I thought if perhaps I called the police, I could get a suggestion about what to do next. This was on June 16, 2003 at about 7:30 or 8pm. I called information and obtained the number for Highway Patrol. The man that answered my call was very helpful. Although no actual police could assist me, he called each of the 3 local locksmiths and I was on my way by 8:30pm. His assistance was invaluable as I was unsure of how to proceed at that time. We were hundreds of miles from home, but I want to thank that man for his kindness. I did not catch his name, but please pass along my sincere gratitude.
Heather PorterfieldPinch WV




This happened while my mother, two kids, age 3 and 12, were stopped at a tourist trap that had no actual payphone of its own. The payphone I made the call from was across a four lane highway and about waist high. Did I mention it was next to the Exxon dumpster that was filled and crawling with what I can only define as "dumpster cats". At one point, I called my husband collect AT WORK to cry. I felt that letting that police officer know just how grateful I was needed to be a priority.

Now feel free to mock me.

Heather P

My friend Jenny is a literary guru. She recommended an author, the books are great. Melanie digs poetry and is smart enough to get it. I have some books I have read, they may be ones you'll like, but I take no blame if they suck in your opinion. I tend to pick oddball things that are not beloved by all.

John Irving books... my favorite is The World According to Garp. (The only downside to John Irving is his references to the sport of wrestling. I want to go into a coma reading about wrestling.)

Fannie Flagg... all good. Very much the books you want to read to laugh out loud and live longer.

Wally Lamb.. he only has two books. She's Come Undone (my favorite) and This Much I Know Is True. His third book is actually a compilation of short stories from women in his prison class.

A Girl Named Zippy. I don't remember the author, but I enjoyed. She also wrote a kids book, but it just freaked me out.

As a young teen, I read a very thick book on Negro folklore. I enjoyed it but don't know the title.

I also enjoy any historical books about Harriet Tubman (did you know she was narcoleptic?) and Lizzie Borden (she didn't do it and the little poem about forty whacks and an ax are totally inaccurate.)

Night All

I must go dream about how weird I am.
Heather

Ooopsies

My daughter held me hostage today. I was forced to change liquid poop and practice the ancient art of foot binding with leftover ribbons we found in my craft crate. During the day, she wore a bow in her hair, had a Ms. America sash, was a present, and a Native American. It was great.

The oldest added an entire package of Hormel pepperoni to a can of Chef Boyardee's ABC pasta with meatballs. Then he washed it down with eggnog and ate some mini chocolate chip Teddy Grahams. (Shiver, gulp, grimace.)

The middle child was sent to the principals office for punching two of his friends while his entire grade was at the Clay Center. He bloodied one boys lip. He may or may not make it to Christmas. But I am definitely calling Santa.

My children have nothing on me, however. I destroyed a beloved toy of my friends child. I will be dreaming of my failure to maintain socially acceptable behavior at the homes of others tonight. I think I must go searching on Ebay for its replacement. In lieu of that, perhaps I can interest her in a Wiggles/Lazytown dance pad.

Personal Rantings

This blog entry is my own personal rant this evening. Sorry if it is not entertaining.

I despise adult acne.

I think toddler poop should be outlawed.

I think I should not have to change my toddler's diaper and wear my own diaper in the same day.

I think I should never have another UTI for the rest of my natural life.

I wish there was a pill to make teenagers brains work during their teenage years.

I wish my son didn't like to eat things that make my house smell like a fishing wharf/grease pit.

I am however grateful for friends that find deals at local discount stores and friends that I can call and rant a little to when I don't have time to blog.

I think models should all be a size 18. (Like me)

Cookies are good; I am going to eat them. They will not make me feel guilty. Rest assured!

Night all
Heather

There is something wrong with this picture

So first we need to establish that I am not the timing queen. Then we will proceed to the story.

Yesterday, neighbor Jenny invited me to a local glass factory with her family and friend. We all traveled in my van (spacious indeed). The trip was nice, goods were purchased, conversation was had aplenty. We even spotted bikers soliciting for money in the street. All very nice normal outing experiences.

But somehow on the way back, I started to talk about my older son. When he was born, he had a condition called pyloric stenosis that required surgery when he was four weeks old. Part of that particular story involves me telling the listener that I was sixteen when he was born. Now, I am not embarassed or ashamed of that fact, but I mentioned that my younger son was going to have a hard time adjusting to reality when he figured that out. In his mind, the only way a baby gets born is when people are married and old. I said all of this out loud. Then I realized his four year old best friend was still in the back seat.

My prayer last night involved Eleanor and minute amounts of memory loss. Don't worry Jenny, I was very specific, so I don't think she will suddenly lose the ability to chew or anything.

Thanks again for the outing.

Heather

PS ALWAYS be aware of your copilots when storytelling!!!!