One Of Those Taggy Things...Tag You're IT!

My pal "E" tagged me ( www.myfuckingeye.com/ ). I've never done this so... be ye gentle and kind:

FOUR THINGS...

Four jobs I've had

1. Rented cars to drug dealers and other local scum for Hertz.
2. Data Entry for an importer of fake trees/flowers (think silk arrangements and ficus trees).
3. Front desk...the chick who takes your money, makes your appointments, listens to your life story...At an eye doctors (5 docs) office.
4. Stay At Home Slave, umm....Mom.

Four movies I can watch over and over

1. The Color Purple
2. Urban Cowboy
3. The Wizard of Oz
4. Toy Story

Four places I've lived

1. East Texas
2. Texarkanna (4 months)
3. Colorado Springs, Co. (5 weeks)
4. East Texas--in the "woods" in BFE...In da cunttree.

Four TV shows I love

1. Trauma Life in the ER
2. All the "C.S.I." shows
3. The Barkers (on MTV--but the season *just* ended...can't believe they named that kid ALABAMA)!
4. American Idol (but only the sucky singer ones)

Four places I've vacationed

1. Galveston, Texas
2. Houston, Texas
3. San Antonio, Texas
4. White Sands, New Mexico (ummm I was 14)

Four of my favorite foods

1. Double Stuffed Oreos and milk
2. Cheese enchiladas
3. Fried rice
4. Fresh, Hot pretzels...

Four sites I visit daily...(I don't visit ANYTHING daily...but my favs?)

1. www.dooce.com
2. www.myfuckingeye.com
3. just press "next" at the top of my blog and see what pops up
4. http://scoutmom.blogspot.com/ (this is my sister--who hasn't blogged since october--and I am SO disappointed and she will be getting a tounge lashing)

Four places I'd rather be right now

1. asleep
2. drunk in a club--dancing my ass off.
3. in an indoor heated pool ALONE--floating on my back, arms stretched out...
4. at Barnes and Nobles--w a HUGE gift card.

Four bloggers I am tagging...

If you read this--consider yourself tagged...and leave a comment darn it! So I can go visit YOUR site! I promise to comment at your place... I promise.

A Slippery Slope...

I am so dog gone tired. Exhausted. I haven't been sleeping well the past 3-4 nights. Caden is sick. Snotty nose. We took him to his 9 mo check up last Thursday and he was well. He's just in the 20% for weight. So I am trying to bulk up his calories. He isn't frail or skinny. Just not as heavy as most babies his age. But now with the nose stuff--he doesn't really want to eat much.

Last night was the worst. I went to sleep around 10:30PM on the couch. Caden in his pack n play in the living room with me. I was up at 11:00PM, 11:35PM, 12:10AM (this time because Moonpie needed my help--Claudia had thrown up in our bed), 1:20AM, 3:45AM and 5:45AM. At 1:20 I just put Caden on my chest on the couch with me--he tossed and turned. Flipped and flopped. Whimpered and whined. I changed his diaper. Gave him a bottle and cussed out him, me and whoever was shining a flashlight in a voodoo doll that resembled ME.

I got the kids up at 7:00AM and carried them to the car. I wore my pj's and socks while I drove Calie to school. But then they needed feeding and dressing and talking to and refereeing...I am so tired. I did eat lunch and feed them too.

The exhaustion is what drags me. If I get to tired or draggy--then the darkness settles in. The tone gets rougher--the words snappy. The threats to maim more frequent.

Well, gotta go. Caden is screaming his head off and the other two are too quiet--that usually means someone is naked and the other has a marker in their hand...

Claudie Bean Brag...

I know I gripe (bitch) about my kids alot. But they are so funny, cute and they light up my mind most of the time. Carson's favorite saying of late? "Mom? I like your face. Come 'ere you!" He tells me that he heard this on "The Lion King" (one? or two?), but I never remember hearing it. But it iiiiiisssss cute when he says it.

And Claudia. I don't speak of her alot. But remember? She is the one I used to battle daily. Hourly even. She was part of my major snap. She is the most strong willed child. She is an artist--with the personality to match. She talks in her sleep. Well, argues really. She yells. She is... hmm. Very, Very cute. She IS the little girl with the curl in the middle of her forhead. The actually were decribing HER. She was a very high maintenance baby. She knew what she wanted and she wanted it right now, damnit! She walked at 10 months. By age 2 she would entertain waiters in family resturants by naming all her shapes. I'm not talking squares and circles people. I'm talking trapazoids. Paralletograms (her favorite), octogons, ovals. At 20 months she had over 200 words in her vocabulary. Believe me, once while waiting for Cliff to get fitted for a holter monitor (for his racing/irregular heartbeat)--I wrote every word she could say down (upstairs, downstairs, sweet potato, unusual, unaceptable...). She was almost 4 before she learned to go to sleep on her own. She still carries a "night-night" to school (and sleeps) with it. There is a WAR on it it is misplaced (omg--I've popped many a vicodin over not being able to find that freaking sqaure of cotton and satin).

She is a darling. She can charm you into buying whatever she wants at Wal-Mart. She has tried to steal from there too...but never anything for herself. A pair of capris for a friend. A birthday card for her brother 6 months in advance. A pair of panties for Calie.

And I told you she was an artist. She won an award at school today. "Super Artist". Here are two of my favorites. One is a card she made of a flower (watercolor paints). The other is 2 birds she drew with washable markers for Calie. And I have a picture she made of a horse that will knock your socks off. And a picture of me while pregnate with Caden--with a cute baby drawn inside of it. She is very artsy fartsy. I am one proud mama. I can't wait til she is grown--I can't wait to she what/who she becomes...

Today Was Surprisingly OK...

Moonpie was off work. We had only the boys at home--the girls were in school. Caden and I slept on the couch from about 10AM until Noon. ahhhhhh. Nothing like a 9 month old snuggled on your chest, drooling onto your shirt and smirking and giggling in his sleep.

Moonpie rented "The Fantastic Four" for Carson. Who watched about 10 minutes of it! Moonpie and Carson went to pick up the girls. I held Caden and read (*gasp* I READ) A Million Tiny Pieces (?) You know, that controversial book--An Oprah book. The one they are saying isn't a memoir, but a work of fiction? I mean, really who cares. HE wrote the book. It's HIS story. He was a major alcoholic and drug addict in rehab! Come on. If that isn't lichen to embellish or leave out bits or even make up some good stuff, I don't know what is. Who freaking cares? It is a goooood book. I like it. Anyways. Before my blood pressure gets outta control I leave that topic. hee hee.

Moonpie and I were going to take Calie out on Friday for her Birthday. But we were having a hard time finding someone to watch the (other) kids. I didn't want to ask my grandmother because...I just can't do that to someone who is 70+ years old. One or two is one thing. All three is punishment. I wanted to ask my Sister--but was reminded by Moonpie that she has her own kids to keep--and that it would be infringing on HER weekend time with her boys. OK. Sorry. So we decided to split it up. He is taking her to circuit City to get her mp3 player. And then out to eat. Tomorrow, I get to take her shopping for a few clothing items and out to eat! Calie is soooo excited. She gets her Daddy ALL to herself. And then she gets her Mommy all to herself. I want her to feel so special--because she is. Can't believe she is getting so old--15 is old. When you think that you brought this person into the world. That you nurtured her and disciplined her. You watered and weeded and fertilized this person into a gorgeous flower. That soon will need you less than you have ever wanted to be needed. I hope she has a wonderful time with Daddy tonight. I hope she never forgets how much we love her.

Caden has a well check up tomorrow. Shots. Ears checked. He is turning into a drama queen too. I bet there are lots of alligator tears tomorrow. And I'll bet I hold him all day. Sweetheart.

She Bangs, She Bangs...

Ok, I know I am not too fashion forward. I am VERY loooow maintenance. I make sure that Moonpie buys new scrubs when he wears the crotch out of his old ones (LOL). I make sure my kids are wearing pants that don't look like they came from Urkel's rag bag. I am always last on the list. But I am NOT fashion savy.

I came from the era that had me wearing wings for bangs. Like Farrah. Then my bangs were teased (Na Nana Na Na) to sky scraper proportions--the famous "Texas Big Hair". What I am trying to say is...I have had bangs my entire life. But I am told per Moonpie and Calie that bangs are OUT. That I am outta style. But I don't care. I hate my naked forehead. I literally feel NAKED with my forehead showing. I have tried to grow out my bangs. Really. But it doesn't work. I get frustrated fast. I don't know what to do with the hair in the "in between stage". I can't stand it in my eyes. I hate it pushed to the side. And forget about headbands. I look...Like a DORK! Clippys? no. no. not good.

Me and bangs are like me and blow jobs. I try about twice per year. But I am never able to follow thru. I get about half way there and quit. Then I vow to NEVER attempt it again. So, yesterday I chopped off my bangs again. Whew. Feels soooo much better. I can see. My forehead is clothed. I feel safe. And *I* like it. So there.

I promise to put a picture here of me and my bangs soon. But since *I* am the camera keeper--there aren't too many pictures of me. But I have over 1,000 on my computer of kids and dogs and horses and the such. So you will have to wait until I have an urge to apply make up. It will be soon I promise.

Raindrops On Roses...

It RAINED yesterday. I am talking allll day long. It was a dark, dreary, rainy day. The kind of day that depressed sloths, like myself, LOVE. I kept the drapes drawn. I wore my PJ's until 2PM. I had greasy hair pulled back into a mini ponytail--too cute!

The kids ran around making a huge mess of the living room and their bedroom. We watched TV all day. MTV stuff. Cartoons. Ate Cheetos. Then, my sister, brother-in-law and their 2 boys came over, how embarassing to get caught in your 'draws that late in the day (in the dark house). SO, after they left, I decided to take a shower. Shaved my legs too! FIXED my hair. I am talking there was a hair dryer, flat iron and hairspray was involved! I applied ZERO makeup tho. ugh. Makeup on the weekends at home should be outlawed ('course I don't like to wear it EVER--but I do own some). I put on some nice jeans instead of my sweats. Took out a lasagna I had made and froze 2 weeks ago--and straightened the house.

I almost looked like I had it GOING ON by the time Moonpie made it home at 7:30PM!

So, all in all it started out a dark day. But after I was shamed into getting it together--it was SUNSHINE SUNDAY!

PS: My beloved Sissy is bringing me a Gazelle (YOU CAN DO IT!) and a stair stepper soon. I just might use them too (out in the barn)! No promises tho--that way you and I both aren't disappointed.

My Stay In Hospital...

Here in E. Texas we usually say "I was in *the* hospital". But I have always loved the way the English say "in hospital". So, that is how I say it--with a Texan accent. Yehaw!

When my doctor (back in November) said "I think it's best if you go to the Behavior Health Clinic and stay for a few days. You can get treatment. They can help you." I almost passed out. He was talking "Funny Farm", "Nut House", "Psycho Ward". But his next words were scarier. They were said to Moonpie. "Take her right now. Right now. They are waiting for her. Don't go home and get clothes--you can get those later. Take her now." Holy Crap. The lookon Moonpie's face. I'll never forget it. His voice wavered when he told the doctor: "But she is breastfeeding. What do I do with the baby?" His advice? "You'll figure it out."

So Moonpie took me. I sat in the waiting room crying. Wanting to run. Wanting to go home and hide under a bed. But scared that they would come get me. Put me in a straight jacket and throw me in a padded room. So I cried. And waited. They took me in a little room and interviewed me. Asked me my history. Wanted to hear my suicide plan, in detail. Asked me about what medicines I had been taking. Trying to figure if I was addicted to Vicodin...I wasn't, tho I easily could have been, in time. This is where Moonpie had to leave me. He had to pick up the kids from school--go relieve my sister, who was watching the boys. And he had the task of telling everyone "she is crazy and I need HELP--get here now, before *I* have to take care of these kids by myself!!!!" Then a nurse came and got me. She took my blood pressure. Weighed me. Took my shoelaces from me---OMG. That made me bawl my eyes out. Then she took my picture(!?). I'm sure it was quite the glamour shot.

Then I was taken to the ward. I was told I would be on a "good ward"--whatever that means. I think now that it meant "people over there are crazy--but they aren't thowing poo or taking off their clothes yet". It was quiet on the ward. About 8 people were there then. Some in their rooms (soem crying in their beds). Some in the "day room" watching TV. A a couple on the (two) telephones. I was shown my room--which I shared. Two to every room when it's full. We weren't allowed any glass bottles--no makeup. Nothing with belts, ties. No food or drink in the rooms. I spent the first few hours on my bed crying. Waiting for Moonpie to come visit at 7PM (for an hour) and bring me clothes. I finally went into the dayroom at lunch time. I was told that until I saw the doctor (the next day, sometime) that I would be on "lockdown"--I have to eat all my meals on the ward and then I would be evaluated. So the rest of the group went to the cafe--walked in a single file line with a "tech" on gaurd--watching them, constantly counting them. Unlocking and locking doors for them as they went.

Later that evening a girl came up to me. Brandi. We talked briefly. She told me "the run down"--this wasn't her first (or second) rodeo. She had been diagnosed with bipolar (can't remember the version) and was chemically dependant--and very addicted to nicotine! No one was allowed to smoke--or drink caffine on the ward. You could drink cokes in the cafe--SMALL ones. But no smoking ever, never, ever. I don't smoke, so it didn't bother me at alllll. But it made the other natives restless! I was made aware that we would be "in classes" most of the day. Group therapy. Some classes were for depression/bipolar/scitzo and the other classes were for chemical dependancy/alchohol. I was in the crazy classes.

Moonpie came. Brought me PJ bottoms with a drawstring--couldn't have 'em. Brought me my makeup bag--couldn't have more than half of it due to glass bottles. And he brought me my breast pump--my boobs were about to explode. He had tried to feed the baby a bottle--but he was having a hard time. Caden wouldn't take it. My sister had to feed him with a medicine dropper. drip drip drip. That night they gave me an Ambien (sleeping pill). I was told they were powerful. But I laid on my plastic bed. On my flat plastic pillow. Covered up with my hospital smelling blanket...and thought "When is this thing going to---ZZZZZZZ". Best nights sleep EVER.

Over the next few days more people checked in. I became good friends with alot of the patients. There was George, who had tried to slit his wrists. He lived in another state...and he had to stay there for 4 days wearing blood stained jeans. There was Anthony. He was a prision guard (inhis uniform) who was depressed over his marriage breaking up and was having anger issues. He slept for the first 2 days. There was Cullen (my favorite). A 19 year old homosexual who was addicted to everything. Speed was his favorite tho. When he came down off his high we found that he is high on life all the time. He has a very UP personality. So funny. LOVE him. Wanted to slap mayo on his head and eat him up! There was Amelia (my roommate). Laura. Mona. Susan. Fanny. Miss Viv (who was the epitome of style and money--and a MAJOR vicodin addict). We all had our stories. Our problems. It was easy to talk to them--most of them KNEW what I meant. They had felt it. Lived it. Breathed it. It was in their souls too.

I was there for 4 nights, 5 days. I was put of 3 diff meds. Then weaned off one. I had therapy all day long. I had handouts. Notes. I had visitors every night--most there had no visitors AT ALL. I left on the condition that I go to out-patient there too. 5 hours per day. Monday thru Friday. I did that for a little over 2 weeks. Then I was put in 2 times a week 1-on-1. Then Once per week. I cried when I left in patient. I will never forget those I met there. My last day I made a plaque in "activities" (HAHA). It was a small wooden board. I glued beautifully colored tile stars all over it. Then wrote everyone's first name down that was on the ward. It is on my night stand. I will carry them in my heart always. I pray for them too. And I know they pray for me.

The Torture Of Having A Teenager...

Oh me. Oh my. Will it never end? Will *I* make it. FOUR times? Someone PLEASE tell me...boys are easier, right? Because I will be, ummm...(counting in my head and on my fingers...) 45/46 when my boys are teenagers. My heart and mind may not be able to hande all the stress. pouting. backtalking. door slamming. personality disorders...I mean...changes. And I'm only doing one daughter now. Still got one to go.

She made a video. With her friend. In which she cussed like a sailor. Dressed like a ho. And bad mouthed me. ME. Her MOMMY. Her once best friend. Her confidante. She called me a "fucking bitch". Said she couldn't wait til she turned 18 so she could leave and never some back. Said she hated her family. I was DEVESTATED.

Then I went to my therapy appointment. And was told (about 30+ times) "Developmentally Appropriate for her age". And that the video was her "diary" and that we (me and Moonpie) shouldn't have watched it. I felt like a fucking bitch.

We finally told Calie that we saw the video. And told her how much it hurt us to see it--and that we shouldn't have invaded her privacy. And that if she wanted respect and privacy she had to earn it. We are trying. But it is so hard. She is soooo hormonal. She sulks. She conives. She knows how to sweet tlk us and do extra chores to get us to give/tell her whatever. She wants a cell phone. And a car (she turns 15 this month) and Drivers ED and an iPod--not just any mp3 player but the iPod NANO. And new clothes. And we are POOR. About broke. Debit Consolidators told Moonpie that we spend more than we make now. And we hardly EVER "blow money up a hog's ass" (what? you've never heard that one? Must be my Texan upbringing).

But then she can be so sweet. Curled up in her Daddy's lap. Snuggling with Caden. Every now and then playing with Claudia (they are constantly arguing--and they are 10 years apart). Playing horsey with Carson--or dancing with him. Clearing the table without being asked (once every blue moon or so).

I can't wait til she is grown WAY up and is married and has a kid or 2. That will be soooo worth it all.

Daddy and Daughter Dance/Daddy and Son Hunt...

We got a notice in Claudia's backpack the other day. Feb 11th they are having a dance for the PreK and K classes. A "Dad and Daughter" and a "Mom and her Little Man" dance. Moonpie has to work that day (and night). Can't get off. So he took her on a "date" tonight. She looked so cute. New jeans. New shirt. Hair all pretty in a ponytail. They went to the movies and out to eat pizza. Then she begged that he take her to Wal Mart. They picked out some Easy Bake Oven stuff (that crap is $$). But I'll bet *I* have to "cook" with her. And clean up. And HE will get to eat it. Oh well. She was THRILLED to get him all to herself.

Next week Moonpie is taking Carson camping! CAMPING! He isn't 4 yet. In the WOODS. There are cyotes and wolves out there. And snakes. OH and they are going HUNTING (WITH GUNS!!!!!!)! To hunt squirrels (or "swirls" as Carson calls them). I have banned all dead animals from coming into my house--squirrels look like dead, skinned babies to me--I will NOT eat them. They are just rats with fluffy tails. Camping! Sleeping in a tent. Pooping in the woods. Peeing on trees. I'm sure he will LOVE it.

Lay Down And Be A Baby!

Caden will be 9 months on the 28th of this month! Caden is no longer Army crawling--he is all out crawling. But before he got his gut up off the floor...he was pulling to standing. And only holding on with one hand. and cruising along the couch. Pulling up on the wall. Crying if I walked into another room. Eating Cheerios. and Vanilla Wafers. Holding his tiny arms up to me (pick me uuuup). Crying if you take a toy (or piece of paper--or the phone--or TV remote--anything he has in his hands) away from him.

He is eating stage 3 foods. And some of ours. He is such a happy baby. He squeals at levels that require ear plugs to protect your eardrums. I think he has ANOTHER ear infection (this would be #4 since Nov 15th). He has no stanger anxiety yet. He grins and flirts with everyone. He pats my face when I hold him. He hugs my neck. He *gently* pulls my hair. He *not gently* pulls the puppys fur. Then laughs his head off. He never turns his head away when I offer medicine--but he always grimaces like I am posioning him afterwards.

He is so sweet. I'm glad I didn't follow thru on that awful plan I had... It would have been a crime to not be around to see him--and fro him not to grow up to this stage. I'm glad we are both still here.

Heard In Our Bathroom Today...

Claudia: Mom? Mom!

Me: What do you need Claudia?

C: I need a little help.

M: Are you through?

C: Not really. Some won't let go.

M: What!?

C: Please come here! Hurry!

I go into the bathroom and clean her (v v dirty) behind.

C: That last piece was just hanging on for dear life!

Well, ain't she the cutest thang?

Knock, Knock. Anyone Home?...

Sorry. I didn't drop off the face of the Earth... but I felt like it. If I had a dollar for every time I said to myself "Self! You need to blog!" I would be rich. Filthy rich. Like Bill Gates rich. Not that I haven't had time. I just haven't *made* time.

Still in therapy. Still taking the meds. Still having bad days. Today was one of those days. Still avoiding. Dropped out of MOPS. Just too hard. Mainly because my therapist appointments are on Thursday's (cause then I only have Caden)--and that is the same days as MOPS--but partly 'cause I don't wanna go.

Been having sex on a regular basis. Whoo Hooo. no, really. WHOO HOO!!!! But Moonpie really needs to get snipped and clipped. I am one of those girls who just LOVES condoms. I mean--they are lubricated (can only help), and they contain allll the gross messy mess. Therefore I am not laying in a wet spot--or getting out of bed after. hee hee. And he always brings me a glass of cold water and a warm washrag... The best thing is to pop that trazadone and get after it--then 30 minutes later you can go into your night night coma with a SMILE on your face. Moonpie, one the other hand, hates the condoms. But no condom--no cooter. No raincoat-no ride. No plastic-no p...well, you get the idea.

So, I am back. With lots to post about. Some is funny stuff--some is whiny. Some (I PROMISE) will have pictures.

Stay tuned. Here's the kids at Christmas (my mother-in-laws house)

Tweezers...Multi Use Tool...

Tweezers are incredible! I have used them for nasty eyebrows. For plucking sticker and slivers of wood from tiny feet. Moonpie has been know to use them to rip stray nose hairs(I know--Groooossss!). But today was the primo. Today I performed delicate surgery on Carson.

Have you ever heard some story about some kid that shoves a pea or button up their nose? And that sometimes a trip to the ER is required? Well, I have them allll beat. Today my 3 (almost 4) year old son, who is definitely in my top 5 favorite people, who is quite dramatic, came up to me and said "Momma. My butt hurts." Me, thinking constipation, says "Do you think you need to poop sweetie?" "No! There is something in there! See!?" He then drops his pants and bends over pulling his little cheeks apart to show me. Hmmm. What IS that? I DO see SOMETHING! I move in for a close up...He has put a BEAD! A square BEAD--like you find on a necklace--spelling out someone's NAME! INTO his BUTT! omg. omg. So I coax him to push it out. "Push it out Carson--like you have to poop." No Momma! It hurts! (*whimper whimper*)" ooooo mmmmmm gggggg.

So that is how I came to use tweezers to extract the letter "A" from his butt.

We followed up with a lesson in how very dirty with germs our behinds are. And that poop can come OUT of your behind--and even toots can--but absolutely NOTHING is to go UP the hiney!!! The lesson was actually AFTER a thorough hand washing--and tweezer disposal--we have a few more standing by for the next splinter or stray hair.

Busy Hands, Busy Minds...

I have been running nonstop. It seems the only way to keep the uglies away (the ugly thoughts, I mean). I have made 3 small quilts and one top. Still have 2 more to do. I made Carson one to take to Day School (2 days per week). It has Spiderman on it. I made a friends little girl one that has the Disney Princess' on it. I am making Claudia one that has makeup and flowers and striped on it. And making the same friends other girl one with Winnie the Pooh. OH! Got to make Caden's (John Deer) and Calies (flowers). I only learned to sew on a machine when Mimi was here. She bought me my own sewing machine! I really like it. All I can do right now is make quilts...But I'm having fun. I'll post Carson's later so you can see it.

Carson has been to Day School 2 times. The first day he spit, hit and pinched his teacher. The second day he misbehaved so much that he was in the office and the director called me...With hints of him being sent home if he didn't improve--Thank Gawd he did--improve I mean. Little hellion. Earlier today Claudia got in trouble (just a talking to--not me screaming) and Carson thought it was funny to pull down his underwears (that's what HE call 'em), shake his naked rear at her and say "Na-Na-Nana boo-boo".

Claudia wrote "SAMAKLOS" a letter. And also wrote "Im spejlos far mi famle" (translation: I am speechless for my family.) Afterwards she wanted to know the definition of speechless...Something she has NEVER been.

Calie has been grounded for going on 4 weeks--with 3 more to go. All about her grades people. Last six weeks she went from an A in Algebra to a SIXTY-FIVE on her progress report! All because she isn't turning in (or doing) her homework--and not studying for tests. This child is smart. She has never had below a B+ in Math--she has always been on the A-B Honor Roll. So she was grounded--then report cards came out and her Math was a 73...And she was very hateful, disrepectful (mad at us for grounding her)...So she was grounded until the NEXT progress reports came out...And NOW her Math grade is a SIXTY-THREE!! She has 3 weeks to show us she is serious about her grades. And her attitude has to show marked improvement too. She hides in her room alot. So Moonpie has put a limit on her closed door--she hates that. But threatened with the door being removed HAS cause her to spend a little more time with the family.

Caden had double ear infections, a cold, 2 teeth come thru and thrush in his diaper area AND in his mouth--all in 2 weeks. It was horrible. But now he is happy again. He slept 6 hours last night in his OWN bed!! And he is Army crawling and even getting up on his feet and hands. Butt in the air--toooo cute.

I have good moments and bad ones. I had my 1-on-1 therapy last week. It went OK. I cried. It was draining--but I felt better when I left. I'm not planning on suicide or taking Caden with me anymore. Moonpie hid all his Vicodin. I'm taking my own medicine--correctly. Going to start exercising next week (once I get some of these quilts done). Mimi is coming on Friday to stay with us while Moonpie goes deer hunting (eewww). She will be here for a few days. My sister and G-ma and Mimi call me every day. Sometimes twice per day. I wrote my real mother an email (did I already tell you this?) I'll maybe post it later. It felt good to say the things that I had thought about saying for YEARS. I haven't heard from her since--and that was around the 11th of Nov. And I'm not hurt or bothered by it.

Cliff and I are OK. He is stressed out about money stuff (our lack of it)...He's going to talk to someone about consolidation. Doc (Calie's horse) is for sale. The baby horse may be put up for sale too. And the horse trailer. We have got to get rid of the things that aren't necessary so that we can pay for the necessary stuff. Like Christmas (haha) and try to get the bills paid down. Our spending needs to be slimmer too (as do I).

Hope you all are OK. I appreciate ALL the posts to me and the emails. I haven't been on the computer much in the past few weeks. But when I do it is nice to see that people are worried/thinking about me. I almost feel liked! haha

Update On Me...

First of all I am better. I am not WELL. But I am making progress every day. I am learning to exchange negative thoughts for positive ones. Learning to accept compliments. Learning to set up boundaries. Learn that I am NOT Super Mommy/Wife/Friend--that no one is. Learning to lower my own standards--and my voice. Deep breathing. Positive self talk. Trying to think about my feelings BEFORE I show my ass (or bad behavior). Learning to communicate when I need help--or just to talk.

Tomorrow is my last day of intensive out patient therapy. I've had 56 hours of therapy so far in the outpatient hospital (not counting the therapy I received while in inpatient (tell you all about THAT later). After Thanksgiving I go to see an outside therapist--maybe only once per week!!

I am still depressed. Still have immense feelings of being unworthy. Of guilt. But no more thoughts of suicide--I've thought about tearing up (in my mind) my "plans"--but I haven't gotten that down yet. But I don't want to do it(suicide). I never want to feel that ill again. But I can tell I am on the road to recovery. I am sleeping better...Even slept SIX hours the other night!! yehaw!

My Mimi has been here since Nov 4th. Cooking for us. Picking the kids up from school. Cleaning some. I have enjoyed her company. I can't imagine this without her.

I've lost 6 pounds in three weeks. The meds make me not hungry. So I haven't eaten alot. But I am drinking Ensure or SlimFast--not just NOT eating anything.

I've emailed some of my new friends from inpatient. Our Group really bonded. As far as I know everyone is still doing good. Except for one elderly lady who is bipolar--she had to be readmitted the other day--I am sure she will be sent to the State Mental Hospital for long term. They were trying to get her in the last time but she was freaking out--but this last time might be involuntary. A few of us are meeting for lunch soon. It will be nice to see what everyone looks like when they have access to hair dryers and hairspray and makeup or normal clothes haha. The day I was admitted I was wearing a pair of Moonpies jeans and one of his shirts--now I have a new wardrobe, new hairdo and even a PURSE (that can not double as a diaper bag)! They might not recognize me!

It's 9:30PM now...I've got to get ready for bed, tomorrow is my day to get everyone ready for school.

PS: Mimi is calling a few daycares and churches in the area to see about getting Carson into a Mother's Day Out Program--she even offered to PAY for it! OMG.

I Cracked Like A BAD Easter Egg...

This will be short and sweet....

On Thursday Nov 3rd I LOST IT. I went to my Doctor appointment. Moonpie showed up. And my doctor, me and Moonpie decided (after the SCARY tale I told) that I needed to be admitted to the Behavior Health Center. I got ALOT of counseling, new meds (Effexor and Trazadone)...and the support of my new cuckoo friends.

I am still in counseling, but on an outpatient basis now. I go to Group sessions 5 times per week--for 5 hours per day. I AM getting well. I refuse to hide my illness anymore. I will quit trying to make everyone think I am OK if I am not.

I will let you all know how I am doing when I have time.

One Flew Over The Cuckoo Nest And Landed...

OMG! It's official (well, not REALLY). I am officially CRAZY. I just took every online test for depression and they all say the same thing "See a professional, Call 911 or go to the nearest ER." eeeek.

I called my GP today and scheduled an appointment--didn't tell Moonpie, just don't want to hear him tell me in so many words (or less) to "snap out of it". So, my sister will come watch the boys on Thursday. I made my appointment after watching court TV today (maybe it was a sign from GOD?--ummm...I'm joking here--sick sense of humor OK?) but the D. Laney case is being shown--she is the woman who killed 2 of her sons by bashing their heads in with a rock--and seriously injuring her 3rd son (who was 14 mo old at the time). It happened around here--in East Texas. I remember it well. And we used to treat the youngest at the doctors office where I worked (this was AFTER he was injured). I'm not saying that I would injure my kids--I've never felt like taking them--always just me--when I get that low. Which I am NOT that low right now--I just feel. Blah. Bad. Sad. Down. Unhappy. Tired. Lost. I feel like I am in slow motion. And when I *freak* out--it's like I can hear myself--and it disgust me--but I can't stop it. And I say to myself while it is happening: Who the hell IS this mad woman??!! What is her problem!? Get a grip BITCH!

But, anyway, watching her trial made me think about the state of MY mind. And how it needs help. And remember? That bottle of yellow pills is getting low. *This* doctor isn't who prescribed my meds. That was my OB back in 2002. While I was PG with Carson. Since then I have been on and then off and then on again and then OFF again. When we lived near Galveston I got a RX for the 50mg (BIG bottle) then almost right away I got put on the 100mg. So I had both bottles. I have pretty much been putting myself on them for a month or 2 then off for awhile. I guess I start feeling better then think "Ah ha! I am cured! I feel better! I can stop taking them now!" Obviously that isn't the right way to do it. Duh.

So, I get to go the whole route with Dr "Don't Know". Ought to make his day memorable. His demeanor reminds me of That Munster Guy. You know--the Frankenstein one? He's real tall and big. And he shakes hands like a wet noodle. But he's really nice. And he's a good listener. And he always makes me feel like he cares about me. He will either help me or say "Gawd, girl. You are f*d up! Get to the Psych Ward PRONTO!" Either way. I'm getting help soon.

Either that or I'm getting DRUNK!

Happy Birthday, Little Claudia....

Claudia turns 5 tomorrow. We had her party Saturday. My Little Pony cake. Ice cream. Rented a "jumping house"--Moonpie put it on the deck--it was HUGE. Her favorite gifts were a toy cell phone, a dress up outfit and some lip gloss. Oh, and new colors--64! Count!! With a sharpener!





We rented "Robot" on Pay Per View--and then recorded it, so we can watch it 5,000 times (in a row). Carson will be a robot for Halloween. Claudia will either be a cheerleader or a "princess" (she has both outfits). I made Calie a Tshirt, it says "30% rolling eyes. 30% back talk. 30% deep sighs. 10% door slams. = 100% Teenager." She is wearing it tonight--going as a Sullen Teenager. She wanted to go as a hooker and I said NO. And now it is raining. We need rain--but I hope it stops.

Can't believe Claudie Bean is turning 5. Now I gotta go bake some cupcakes to take to school tomorrow! But first, I'm gonna put a few pictures on a few of the older posts--go check 'em out!

The Big Blue Couch...

We had our session (counseling) on Friday. I was proud of myself, I only cried once. Here is the "cliff notes" version:

Moonpie admitted to being controlling and "picky" about the house. We talked for an hour and 30 minutes. Felt like 15 minutes. We each had to list 5 things the other did or didn't do that "bothered us".

HIS LIST: (things that *I* need to "work" on)

1. Take better care of myself (he's talking make up, better clothes, exercising, losing weight).

2. Control cussing (umm, yeah, I do. Like a sailor sometimes).

3. Clean house better (haha).

4. Make Calie do her chores (he says if I do this then I will have more "ME" time...Does he mean time to put on more makeup? Or exercise?)

5. Use my time more contructively (ditto the note on #4).


MY LIST: (things that *HE* needs to "work" on)

1. Undermining me with the kids/interrupting me while I discipline them.

2. Stop being so critical.

3. Lower his (very high) standards.

4. Involve me in financial matters (ie: spending, spending, spending without asking/talking/telling me).

5. Curb/control his hobbies and the time/money they require.

Our homework for the next 2 weeks is that I have to get 30 minutes of exercise per day. This is not for him but for ME. Dr Shrink (not her real name, obviously) said that I have low self esteem (duh) and that getting away from the house and recharging my batteries will help--and the weight loss and attention from the weight loss (from Moonpie) will just be an added benefit. His homework is to try not to be critical AT ALL. OH! And she said "no sex for 2 weeks" (hahahahaha--EASY!!!).

We left and hugged in the parking lot. I felt better already. It was hard to hear some of the things he said--and I'm sure he was shocked that I could actually talk (not scream) and I think he really listened. We are supposed to put our lists up where we can see them every day. Mine's hanging on the bathroom mirror. I have worn make up every day since. I walked 2.7 miles Saturday AM (omg). Then jumped in the jump house we rented for Claudia's birthday party. I thought my legs would fall off. I asked him Friday night "Do you think it [the counseling] will help?" and he said (in a joking voice--but COME ON!) "I think it's a waste of money." I looked at him in such a "you dic* head" way--he laughed and said "I'm just kidding!!" But it still hurt--I mean, if he said it there must be SOME tiny bit of truth, right? turd.

Sunday night I took Calie to the mall and bought her a shirt, a jacket and a little purse. Left the 2 kids with Moonpie and took Caden with us. When we got back a friend came over and I was cutting some birthday cake for them to take home (they weren't at the party the day before). Moonpie sees me and says "Are you eating cake!? Have you even had SUPPER yet!?" I thought I was going to blow a gasket. I said "WHY!? I am not eating cake. I am cutting it for them. But if I want cake for supper, that is what I will have." I was sooooooo irritated. There he was, trying to make me feel 4--again. Later he apologized--but geez!

He still hasn't hung his list up. It's in his wallet. This was his idea--he better put out some effort. He better watch it. I am liable to get skinny and in shape then leave his ass and make him pay me child support for 4 kids while I move to the beach, wear a bikini and work in a surf shop (no, I would NOT--well, maybe the get in shape part).

We are scheduled to go back in 2 weeks. I like the doc. I hope it works.

I'm Tired And I'm Lazy...

I can't seem to function. Well, I do. I function in a sneaky sorta way. I do the bare minimum to get thru the day. I get up. I get dressed. I get my kids up (always running late). I get them dressed...Mostly. I attempt to fix Claudia (the Bear)'s hair. I MAKE Carson put shoes on. Sometimes I change the baby *before* we take the girls to school. Then we come home. I nuke pancakes for Carson--or just give him cookies or cheetos. I lay on the couch/recliner and hold Caden. I watch Court TV or Headline News ALL DAY. I nuke soup you can drink right out of the can for lunch! Fix Carson a sandwich and more cheetos--he eats the cheese out of his sandwich and licks the mayo off the bread. I throw all the dirty/wet diaper into the trash (that have laid all over the floor, bundled up all day). Then we go get the girls.

And then, 1 hour before Moonpie comes home, we run around picking things up, putting clothes up, vacuuming, unloading the dishwasher, throwing together a dinner of some sorts. Spray Febreeze...Pour Pine Sol in the toilets...Turn on the dryer (again)... Sometimes it fools him into thinking I have done my "chores" right. And I tiptoe around. Waiting for him to say something, anything. Because *whatever* he says will piss me off. Sometimes I hear him and bitch at him in my head--other times I boil over and snap at him out loud, most attractively (not).

Then at bed time I can't fall asleep--and when I do, one of three kids will wake up and need attending. Feeding. Changing. Patted. A drink. Clean underwear and bed covers. Rocked. Changed again. Fed again. A dog will need me to open the door and scream (in a hushed voice) "Shut UP GUNNER!" Then I lay in bed and try to go back to sleep--only to be awakened twice more before "morning".

I need sleeping pills. And Valium. And a maid.

PS: Tomorrow we start counseling--partly glad, mostly sad.

See Saw...Up And Down...

Yesterday was a "down" day. The kids were awful. I was awful. They were monsters and it was mostly my fault. I was so tired. So sleepy. I don't know why I am so tired all the time. I was in a coma on the couch for most of the day. Carson got into a new tube of toothpaste and smeared it all over his legs and the bathroom floor--I SMELLED it all the way in the living room. Claudia was mean all day. Her new favorite thing to say to hurt my feelings? "I am leaving and getting a NEW Mommy. You are NOT my Mommy anymore!" Fifteen minutes later she will ask "Momma? Will you get me ***?" And I say "Go ask your NEW Mommy to help you--remember? I am not your Mommy anymore." I have no idea where she got this. Maybe the same place she got "I don't like you anymore. I don't love you." Carson says it too. WHERE did it come from? We have NEVER said those things to our kids--or to each other (not outloud anyway..tee hee). I did the bare minimum in the house. It was a beautiful day--yet I couldn't muster the energy to take the kids outside. I didn't even take a shower. ewwwww.

Today is better. Moonpie was extra nice last night. We even...ummm...you know. So I woke in a good mood. Fixed pancakes. Let the baby horse out to the pasture (pics coming soon, I promise) and cleaned the kitchen--I'm talking took EVERYTHING off the counters and bleached it down, scrubbed the sinks--so shiny now. Loaded the dishwasher and swept--I'll mop later. I've folded 2 loads of laundry and put *most* of it away. I fed Caden cereal and bananas. Washed Caden's sheets and blankets and his "floor blanket" too. And emptied the bathroom trash cans (except not Calie's) and the kitchen trash. It is 11AM now and I'm taking a little break. I text messaged Moonpie..."I luv you stud"--no reply yet.

Have a busy week coming up. Claudia has Book Fair this week at school. And a "Say No To Drugs" parade on Wednesday. Mops is Thursday and so is Caden's 6 mo appointment (which I will reschedule for NEXT week). Saturday will be Claudia's 5 year Birthday party. And the new W*lM*art SuperDuperstore opens!!

I'm almost out of Zoloft--maybe 5 days worth left...OMG. I have put off calling the doc. Mainly because I'm a big fat chicken--and because...well, since we are going to see the counselor on Friday (oh yeah--one more thing to do next week!!). I want to talk to her about it. I take 100mg a day--and I really can't feel like it's helping much anymore. I still have tummy rumbling anxiety. Major mood swings. Suicide thoughts/day dreams.

Ah, gotta go--kids are having a wrestling match on my bed--and someone is about to get a spanking...

Is The Doctor In...?

I did it. I called a counselor today. We have an appointment. Next Friday. I was sitting in the recliner today thinking "What are you waiting for? Lightening to strike and make everything OK?" So, I went to the phone book and called someone. A lady. She answered the phone. I asked about fees--she said she had a straight fee for single or couples. $50 per session (1 hour)--and if we need to, she can "work with us on the fee". She asked what the session would be for. I said "Well, we have been married for 17 years and last week he said he thought we needed counseling." She said it was really good that he had said that...that he hadn't "just left", that it showed he was willing to work. I hope that is true.

I called him at work and told him we had an appointment. I think he was surprised I actually CALLED and did it. I even called my sister and asked her to keep the kids that afternoon. Moonpie is off that weekend. And it's the weekend of Claudia's 5th birthday party. I hope it makes for a good weekend.

We've had a little trouble with Calie the last few days. Teenagers are so...I dunno. The least little thing sets her off. She wants to be treated with respect and feel like she is "grown up"--yet she acts so immature. Disrespectful and is very forgetful of any and all responsibilities that she is *supposed* to take care of (her dogs food and water and potty breaks...for ONE). I tried to talk to her. She is so touchy. She has an orthodontist appointment Thursday--I'll see if my friend E. can watch the boys--at least Carson. Maybe a little time with the bulk of my attention all to herself will get her outta this funk. This age is almost worse than The Terrible Twos (Threes and Fours).

Saturday Moonpie brought home the baby horse. She is 6 months old. Very cute. Very affectionate. Claudia named her "Daisy"--that's her "barn name", her *real* name is "Shez A Light Skipper". She let me brush her today. She kept rubbing her head on my back while I brushed her. Sweet. When I let her out into the small fenced off area, near the barn, she was so frisky and trotted all around, holding her tail high and almost skipping. So prancy (that's not a real word). Hard to be real jealous of her right now.



Moonpie shaved Carson's head again. He looks like he's on chemo. I know that with his double crown it is hard to have a 'normal' haircut--but does he have to SHAVE it? Can't he just cut it short? I mean he is BALD. Like an onion. But it does feel real soft--like velvet. I like to rub his head.

Slobber...

I love Caden's slobber. He slobbers all over. It drips from his chin like a leaky faucet. He drools more than ANY of the other kids did. I may resort to making him wear a bib 24/7. The other day he was chewing on my chin (he loooves my chin) and then he was sucking on it--like it was a big ole boob...And he gave me a little hickey on my CHIN! Silly boy. Calie and Claudia think his slobber is toxic. Like it has acid in it and will burn their skin off if it touches them. I am soooo in love with this kid. Aint he cute?

Y's Healing Prayers and a Referee...

Thank you, Y. Your prayers worked. Carson is on the mend. Still not his normal self--but he is eating a little better. He ate pizza AND ice cream tonight! But at 8PM he was ready for bed--while he had playmates here. So, I know he is still mending. Plus, at MOPS on Thursday he was very whiny and didn't want to stay and "play with the guys". He kept asking to go home--that was weird! That is my good news. Now for my bad news...

Wednesday night Moonpie told me that he thinks we need marriage counseling. CRASH! Did you hear that? It was my jaw hitting the ground. I mean, I know he is unhappy. I am unhappy. But for HIM to actually SAY that...strange. Mr. Fix-IT. Mr. "Just snap out of it" (that was his take on my depression) actually said "I think we need to see a marriage counselor." wow. hmmmm.

Part of me is very afraid. I honestly,... My very first thought was "NO, if we go to counseling we will end up dicorced." And I told him that. Because I really thought that if we say OUT LOUD what we really feel that it will be the end. We have scabs right now--and if we start picking at them they will get so infected that SOMETHING will have to get amputated (did ya like that analogy?). We both admitted that we still love each other VERY much--but that we often dislike each other. He says that he wants us to be friends again. He had to remind me that we were friends a long time ago. That he has alot of things that he wants to say--but that he holds back for fear I will "explode". He has a point. We don't "fight" very well. He will say (and this is purely an example) "God. This floor is nasty--when was the last time you mopped?" and I will literally GO OFF. "IT DOESNT MATTER WHEN I LAST MOPPED--I COULD MOP AND 10 MINUTES LATER IT IS NASTY!! WHY CANT YOU SEE THE THINGS THAT I DO--WHY DO YOU ALWAYS PICK, PICK, PICK?! IF IT BOTHERS YOU THAT MUCH MOP IT YOURSELF!!!" I am a volcano--waiting to erupt. He is a nag. I feel like he treats me like a child. A retarded child. I feel like he undermines me in regards to the kids. I feel like he is demanding and controlling and VERY critical. I never feel like I am good enough, smart enough, pretty. I feel like a terrible wife, mother, lover--you name it.

I am sure HE feels like I am lazy. That I throw temper tantrums. That I am irresponsible. That I make mountains out of mole hills.

Counseling will cost $$. Our insurance doesn't cover "marriage counseling". I know *I* need counseling. To deal with my anxiety, anger, depression, mood swings...And insurance would pay for that--or part of it--for a time, I think. But we need help as a TEAM. So, we will try to find someone who will see us, not charge too much and HELP us. Too bad we don't go to church--alot of churches/pastors do that for church members (or so I hear).

After he told me this--we were laying in bed--he scooted over to my side and kissed me--REALLY kissed me. I knew what that meant. Ummm, no. He asked me "why not". I told him "You have had time to think about this (the counseling...That we were in trouble...)*I* am in shock--I need time to think." He said "I just thought it would be a good place to start--to get connected. I want to be intimate with you--to show you I love you." I told him that if he wanted to be intimate with me he could hold my hand. He could snuggle with me. But I didn't want to make love or have sex with someone who just told me that they have been unhappy for years--someone who had been thinking that our marriage was so bad that we needed HELP.

So, hmmmm... Guess I will call around on Monday and see who, how much, when, all that crap. And, he said he is thinking of going back to work on "weekends shift" at the hospital (that will mean about an extra $700 per month)--which means he will be HOME more during the week--could be a good thing--could be really bad.

Y (of http://ebonymommy.com/blog/ ), can ya pray for US now? We need it. Thanks friend.

Sample, Swab, Stick...

Took Carson to the doc yesterday. Had to see another ped--not our regular guy that we've had since 1991. Always hate seeing someone else--but sometimes you just gotta. Carson peed in the bathtub Monday night (as he normally, but grossly does) and by 9AM Tuesday he had yet to go again. So they had us come in. Plus, he was still running fever and ever time he eats one bite and I really mean it, ONE BITE of food he cries that his tummy hurts--so he isn't eating well AT ALL.

They wanted him to pee in a cup (Ba-ha-hahaha). Let's just say that he peed in the cup--and all over the toilet, wall and floor (and his shirt)! That was sooooo much fun to clean up. Then they wanted to swab his throat for strep. Seems there was another little boy in there earlier the same day with NO sore throat, no visible white patches or redness and his test came back positive--so they jabbed 2 swabs down Carson's throat. Then they said they wanted to stick h is finger and test his b-l-o-o-d. OMG. You would have thought they were cutting his arm off with a butter knife. He was SCREAMING. "You are 'urting me finger!! You are making me bweed. I am bweeeeeeding. Help. HELP! Mommy, help me!" OMG. Traumatic--I was scared now. Then we waited for EVER for all the results to be read. While waiting I imagine (high anxiety for me) that they come in and say: "We need him admitted to the hospital! More tests have to be done! He is ILL!"

But they come in and say (drumroll, please...): "It's viral. Nothing showed up in his urine or blood. Strep test was negative. Just give it a few more days."

I took him to the store and said "What do you want? What do you want to eat? I'll buy anything--if you will eat it." He picked out Gogurt and ice cream and some cookies. I gave him a cookie in the truck on the way home--he ate exactly 2 bites then threw up on his night-night (lovie/blanket). Complained of his tummy hurting. I got him to eat 1 piece of cheese last night and 4 cheetos. Today he ate 1 piece of cheese and 1/4 of a cookie before his tummy started hurting. He doesn't want ice cream now. Or Gogurt. Or cheetos. He will drink Gatorade and Koolaid and water. But he still isn't eating. He weighs 32 lbs and I fear he will shrink away to nothing. Or negative nothing. Maybe he has gone so long NOT eating that his tummy rebels at anything?

He has exactly today and tomorrow to eat SOMETHING (besides cheese) or I'm going to...Well, I am going to...OMG! What will I DO!? CALL THE DOCTOR---That's what I am doing. And demanding...Something.

A Da Da...

On Saturday night, right before Moonpie and I went out to eat, Caden started saying "Da Da"--or really, "A Da Da". Now he says it constantly. It is so funny and sweet. It makes him happy. He laughs and says/screams "A Da Da...A Da Da--DA DA DA DA DA!" Moonpie is happy too.

Carson is sick. He has been running fever since Thursday. He has had some nasty loose poops (sorry) and has said maybe twice "My tummy hurts" But then he acts like he feels alright *most* of the time...But he isn't eating good at all. And he is whinnier that usual. I keep putting off taking him to the doctor, since I am SURE that I will pay a copay to hear: "It's a viral thing--just give it time to work itself out". His fever has been as high as 101.7 (under his arm)... and it doesn't matter if I give him Tylenol or Motrin--his fever always comes back before it's OK to give more meds. He has been laying around watching "Go Diego, Go!" all morning--I couldn't even entice him to eat breakfast--chocolate doughnuts even (wfh?!). I hate it when my kids are sick. If he isn't better by tomorrow I am calling to the doc. Everytime someone gets sick my over active imagination/anxiety makes me start thinking cancer or something else just as horrible. Now MY tummy hurts...gotta stop thinking about it...

Calie has been carrying around her 11# doll. We had to pull all the stuffing out of the baby doll and stuff it with ziploc bags of change and pinto beans to make it weigh enough. Then I had to go to the consignment store and buy 3 baby girl outfits--she refuses to let the doll wear the same thing everyday (geez).

Claudia told my Mother-In-Law (who is one of the greatest women on Earth) that her name has "3 silly buses" (syllables). OMG. How funny. "Clau Di A. See?" My MIL watched the kids on Saturday so Moonpie and I could go eat. We ate at a new Italian joint. I was unimpressed with the food and service--but it was nice to get out and be dressed up--DARN! I wanted to get a picture of us--especially since I only wear makeup about once per month now...and wear my hair down (even FIXED). But I forgot. Oh well.

Moonpie is going to the Coast on Friday to pick up the new baby filly-horse. The horse that will suck all our money and "daddy time" away (watch and see!)...I admit it--I'm already jealous of this horse. The inside of my house might already be repainted if she wasn't in the picture. Or pasture. Now, can I gripe a minute? Just a minute? Of course I can--it IS *MY* blog after all... I told Moonpie "Now, you don't have to buy me anything for our Anniversary--we don't really have the money! Really! Just take me out to eat...ok?" So what does he do? Spends about $200 on horse crap (not literally "horse crap"--but horse STUFF)--and buys me a CARD. I'll admit it--my feelings were a little bruised. But I can't really say anything--after all...I TOLD him not to buy me anything. Should have said "And don't buy anything ELSE either..."

Ok, I need to go. I'm watching some old movie on LOGO (the "gay" channel--which I am addicted to--and Moonpie--being the homophobic that he is--thinks I am insane--so I have to watch it while he is at work) and Jim Carey is in the movie--made back in 1991 or 1992. Good day all.

Growing Up...

Moonpie has had a hard time lately with Calie. They seem to argue more. She backtalks him. He loses his patience with her--she doesn't listen to him and follow directions. She is growing up. Horses have been a passion for her since she was probably 3. I mean, if she saw a horse in a pasture while he was driving she would yell out--and he would stop and let her go to the fence--and pet the horse--and he would even take pictures of her on the side of the road--petting some strange horse. We live in the country mainly so that she could have a horse. He has spent who-knows-how-much on the horse--and all the crap that goes with it. And lessons. I told him that she might outgrow this obsession--but he didn't believe me. It became "their thing". They went to shows. Rodeos. Lessons. 4H--heck they *both* are officers in their club. It was what they did together. They were VERY close.

And this year it is changing. Calie got boobs. And her period. And boys are interesting. And now she is on the phone with her friend--talking about boys. And she is wearing make-up and straightening her hair and shaving her legs. She asks my advice on how to hug a boy and "does this shirt look OK?" The other night our phone rang at 10PM--Cliff almost had a stroke. I understand and agree that no calls after 9PM is a good rule. But he really freaked out. He couldn't sleep. He had a long talk with her about "who you hang out with now helps develop WHO you are" and that some boys "know what to say to get you to do things you might not really want to do". He is sad. Horses aren't so important anymore. She hasn't rode her horse in almost 2 weeks. She didn't want to ride in the parade today--she went and spent the night with a friend and went to the football game instead. She is growing up. And it hurts. He has a hard time remembering HIMSELF at 14--and all the things that go along with it. Or maybe he does remember--and that's why he acts like he does.

She is growing up--and away from him...And it's hard. Hard for them both. And I feel stuck in the middle. I understand both of them. How Calie wants and needs to spread her wings a little. And how abandoned and hurt that Moonpie feels. It's almost like they are "breaking up". I hope they can, at least "be friends".

17 Years Of Moonpie...

Today is our 17th Anniversary. I can NOT believe we have been married for 17 years. Get out! No way!

We dated *briefly* (like maybe twice) in the Fall of 87--he is almost 6 years older than me--we met at college. He actually graduated from the same High School I did--but we didn't know each other...He was popular (he dated a cheerleader) I was in Drama (surprised?)...I decided I wanted to be "just friends"--that way I could go to any party I was invited to...He wanted a serious relationship--I wanted FUN. I borrowed $180.00 from him so that I could fly to Kansas with my best friend for Christmas break...I think he thought if he loaned me the money I would realize how sweet he was and start dating him again when I got back--but I didn't (but he really was sweet). That next Summer I ran into him at a Wholesale Club, where he worked. We talked a little--and then I went to work. I called him that afternoon and we made plans for me to go to his apartment after work. That was the end of June 1988. By the end of August we were engaged. We were married in a Baptist church on October 8, 1988. Calie was born in 1991. Almost 10 years later we were finally blessed with Claudia--then God apologized for Claudia (she was/is a little hellion) by giving us Carson in 2002...Then we got the bonus gift in 2005 (Caden).

We have had our ups and downs over the years. But I never once doubted his love for me or our kids. He is the best Daddy. He LOVES his kids. I *wish* that I had had a Daddy like him when I was a kid--Gawd knows he tries to act like my Daddy *now*. He is very opinionated. He like the outdoors. Hunting, Archery, Horse stuff. I like it inside. Books, movies, computer time. He takes care of us. He works his A$$ off so that I can stay home with the kids. He works 40+ hours at the hospital and about 20 for the local Junior College teaching (at the hospital). And he still finds time to pay all the bills--(he was a math major once). He doesn't drink, smoke or go out with the guys...He works out at the gym several times per week, takes Calie to all her 4H meetings and her riding lessons. He listens to Claudia tell all about her art stuff--he *really* listens to her. He takes Carson out and lets him ride the tractor with him when he mows. Takes him to the feed store and shows him all the "tools". When he comes home from working the kids RUN to the door--acting like they haven't seen him in a week--like he is Santa Claus. "Daddy's home!! Daddy's home!!" He plays in the floor with them. Gives them piggy back rides. Watches "Stawberry Shortcake" over and over. In the morning, when he wakes at 4:30AM, as soon as his feet hit the floor he goes into Claudia and Carson's room, kisses them and then goes to Calie's room to kiss and check on her. That always makes me smile in the dark of my room. I won't pretend that he isn't a huge A$$ alot. He is. He is bossy. A perfectionist. He wants things done his way RIGHT NOW. He is strict with Calie. He plays too rough with the kids (Carson especially). And he has lost 3 wedding rings in 17 years (the 3rd one this past week). And I have been known to shoot the finger at him behind his back--that really shows him, huh?! But he is Moonpie. My big red dog. And I love him. Forever. Always. And I know he loves me.

Happy Anniversary Moonpie.

No Rest For The Weary...

Do you know what is worse than being sick? Being sick and having to get up 6 times in the night with a baby that can't tell you what is wrong. Caden is sleeping terrible. Terrible. Awful. I'm thinking it *may* be teething. He is drooling like a pervert and chewing on everything. And BITING my chin. He loves my chin. He says "yummy, taste like chicken!"

I gave him Tylenol last night. He also got 2 food feedings yesterday. One at 10AM and another at 6PM (rice cereal and a little sweet potato). I gave him a leisurely bath with soothing lavender (ha) baby wash. Gave him a good, slow massage with some lavender lotion. Fed him as much boob as he could stand...Rocked him into a coma. Do you think that worked? Nope. So today he is really tired (ummm, me too). He is lounging around. Sleeping thru the phone ringing--me vacuuming. Carson screaming because "Dora" went off the TV. Last night he woke up if a cricket outside passed gas. I don't get it. And I am so tired that I ate almost an entire bag of little chocolate doNuts (not the little package with 6 in them either--I'm talking about 15 of them-OINK). I am so tired. Of course the little sugar high will keep me up--until I crash and burn in a few hours.

My house is such a wreck. The maid has had a sinus infection and has gotten lazy this past week. I am so going to fire her someday. Guess I better get back to Operation Clean Up This Place.

Here's a picture of lazy bones--must be nice to lay up on the Egyptian cotton sheets with your rear hanging out under the ceiling fan. I'll let him catch a few Z's then I am waking his butt up! He will sleep tonight (Please God, please?)...

Do-Do On A Stick...

I feel awful. I am sick. My head hurts. My throat hurts. My voice is failing (darn! How will I scream at the kids?). I feel like crap. It's some sinus/cold thing that, I am sure, is a side effect of Rita. It's cooler here today--in the low 70's this morning. The kids were screaming "I'm cold! I'm cooooold like a popsicle!" That should make my cold clear right up, huh? Steamy weather then cool weather. You know what they say about E Texas weather? If you don't like it--just hang around 10 minutes--it'll change.

Tara (my lovely new sister-in-law) did lose the baby. My heart aches for her. She spent a lot of time over here this week. Just hanging out. We talked about miscarriages (I told her all about mine). And breastfeeding. And just "stuff" in general. It was nice to get her all to myself. We even went to a Scrapbooking Party (hosted by my Sister). Y. From www.ebonymommy.com might be proud that I actually LIKED this crafty thing we did there. We made little pages for Calie (since she babysat the kids for us so we could go). I might be inclined to buy some stuff (but from Wal-Mart, not thru the $$ company) at a later date, like, when we actually have money to spend on fluffy stuff.

Calie had an "almost" boyfriend last week too!! He even hugged her in the hall one morning--and that afternoon I found myself practicing "hugging" with Calie...She needed to practice with me so she wouldn't seem too "I don't really know how to do this and it's awkward"...I told her that I refused to practice kissing if and when that came up. But, he seems to be history now--Calie heard some unfavorable things about this boy (like he pulled a knife on someone...), so she is avoiding him like the plague now. Dodging him in the cafeteria and slinking around the halls. She asked him about it and he said "yeah--but that was last year...I'm really a good boy." But she would rather "just be friends...From a distance". End of next week she starts a project in her Childhood Development class. She has to carry around a doll--we have to make it weigh 10lbs--for 2 weeks. She has to take care of it as if it was her child. She named her (IT's A GIRL!) Riley Anne. She has to take pictures and make like a baby book too. She is excited about it--but embarrassed too. She told me and Tara "A doll is just not a cool accessorie, you know!?"

Claudia had school pictures today. I forgot--so she will look like an orphan. I'm not buying any--they make you pay in advance--before seeing them...ummm, no. Later in the year they will take them again--they show you those before you buy--they cost more, but... the one taken today will be in the yearbook. eeek.

Carson has a new "thing". He has been calling me an "ogre". In public. Loud. Then laughing his head off--luckily his speech is still hard to figure out by most English speaking people. I try to ignore it--but he is hard to ignore.

Caden is a liar. He has been saying "I don't drink out of a bottle" since he was born. I found out that he *really* means: "I will drink anything out of a bottle *except* formula--which tastes like rat posion". So...I guess I will have to figure a way to use that electric pump more often--so I can save up some milk for if/when I need to give him a bottle--like...on my anniversary, which is coming up October 8th--I think we will go out to eat at a resturaunt without any playground equipment!! A few days ago I pumped 6 oz in 8 minutes. I was in shock and awe.

Ok, I need to go feed Ccarson some lunch--and take more dimetapp. I can't breef. and me 'ead hurts.

Storm Update...

It is 11:15AM here on Saturday. We are a little wet and alot of windy. We still have electricity and satellite TV. Cliff is at work, so I had to batten down the hatches myself--and go to the feed store for extra hay and stall shavings. I went down to the interstate to buy Mickey D's for the kids for breakfast--past all the church's that are temporary shelters, the parking lots were full. There wasn't alot of traffic. I guess everyone is staying in, getting ready.

Calie and I went out to get Doc (her horse) up to the small pasture, near the barn. He didn't really want to come up. It was sprinkling, so Calie had her umbrella--which promptly turned inside out. We were laughing so hard. It was almost fun--like a tiny adventure. I hope we still feel light hearted later.

On a very sad note: Tara (my new and much loved sister-in-law) may be having a miscarriage. They live in Galveston county--on the peninsula and are staying near here to weather the storm. I'm hoping it is "just bleeding" and not a true miscarriage. She and Josh were *Oh So Happy* when the test was positive--I hope...Well, you know what I hope. Will you hope with me? The stress of the storm can't be helping...And I know she is worrying and questioning every thing she has done in the last few days. Bless her heart. I ache for her worrying.

I am hoping that the storm was less than expected everywhere. Poor Louisiana. My heart aches for them. They have had way more than their share of crap.

Now, I'm gonna lighten my thoughts and go read a few of my favorite blogs.

www.dooce.com and www.ebonymommy.com and www.myfuckingeye.com and a few others...

That Bitch: Rita...

I know that everyone is about tired of all the hurricane crap--I have a massive headache from watching The Weather Channel and CNN Headline News for days now. But I can't stop. Even tho I really want to. My Aunt and Uncle (who raised me) live on the Bolivar peninsula. So does my lil brother/cousin and his new bride of 3 months, who is also 5 week pregnate. They all drove 5-6 hours a few days ago to come here--to wait out Rita. They may be homeless when it's all over. All of their cars are packed with clothing, cats, dogs and picture albums. I can't even imagine their fear. ALL of their belongings may be gone. Their homes.

We lived on the peninsula once--we moved there when Carson was 5 weeks old. I needed my Mommy to help me with my kids. Help me from going insane--taking a long walk on a short pier. We lived there for about a year--a little less. We have alot of memories there. Christmas on the beach. Ferry rides. Carson learned to walk there. Claudia loved to pick up shells on the beach. Calie had her first slow dance with a boy there...And it may be gone.

My Aunt and brother don't seem worried at all. I guess there is no use in worrying--it won't help, or so they say. So I worry for them. Cliff and Calie have a baby horse there. They bought her from some dear friends that breed, raise and show World Champions. Their little filly was due to come home in about 2 weeks. Mr. L (the breeder) had to turn 20+ horses out to pasture--he could only take 3 with him when they evacuated. Their filly had to be left behind. Calie is so worried that the horse may drown. Or get mangled in the flood waters and fencing...Or starve. It's all she can talk about. We second guess ourselves and wish we had gone days ago to get her--but like alot of people we kept waiting to see what would happen--would the storm turn? Fade away? Guess we shouldn't have waited. Hindsight is always 20/20, huh?

So I keep watching TV. Praying. Hoping. And wondering what the storm will do to us--5 hours inland. 120 miles East of Dallas. People are going crazy buying the grocery store out of water, food, gas. What will the next few days be like? I don't like this. I hope everyone is safe. As safe as can be.

I Just Can Not Believe It...Period.

Today my 9th grader. My 14 year old. My firstborn baby. My "Sweet Pete". My Calie O'Malley.

She started her period today. At school. When I went to pick her up this afternoon I saw her walking fast to the truck. I saw this grin on her face. She was walking so fast...In a hurry to tell me. And I just knew. I could tell. She was giddy. She talked all about it--all the way home. I had to stop off at the store and buy supplies for her (I still haven't started my period after having Caden). I also bought her favorite deli chicken and a chocolate cake--we are celebrating tonight!! She admitted to wearing folded up toilet paper in her panties all day--and checking on it after every class--poor baby.

She said she would never wear tampons. She was afraid it would hurt. Claudia (overhearing us) asked "Momma why is Sissy wearing a coupon?!" I almost drove off the road laughing. I told Calie they made very slim tampons--but I thought it was a good idea to wait on the tampons.

So we made it home and got her set up. And called Daddy. He was happy for her too--and thought we were a little silly--but really!? It is an important day for a girl--one of those days you never forget--I want her memory to be that we were happy and proud of her--and that we celebrated HER that day...

But I'm a tad sad. This is the real beginning of her leaving home. Next will be a car where she will physically drive away...Then college. Then (gasp) marriage (oh, dear Father, let that be after she graduates college, please). They really do grow fast, people. And it's true: Why *can't* they just stay little til their Carter's wear out!!???

Working For A Living...

Today I went to my former employers to return some baby clothes that were graciously loaned to me for Caden (I am in love with "sharing" aren't you!?). It was so weird being there. Some days I am so happy to be home with my kids. I love having time to play outside with them and to color at the table...But today it really hit me. I miss working too. I miss having that "team" spirit everyday. I miss talking with people that are over 14. I miss getting paid in real money (as opposed to the slobbery kisses--which I love). I can't work outside the home right now. I can't afford to. Daycare is expensive. And really don't think I want to work--but I miss it. I miss feeling like I am doing something important. And I KNOW that raising my kids is important--but I don't really give it the attention it REALLY needs, ya know? I miss *feeling* important. Every job I've ever had I was good at. I was. I was never a rocket scientist--but I was always a supervisor somewhere. I made sure that my team worked hard and had fun working hard.

Now I supervise poop. I wash 1-2 loads of laundry a day (and put up 0-1). I cook chicken alot and can pour a mean glass of invisible KoolAid. I use about 7 diapers a day and 20 babywipes. I wash my kids by first letting them "soak" the bulk of the dirt/germs off (which is my blog time). I have eyes in the back of my head and can get small people to "settle" by merely picking up a fly swatter (no swats required). I spot mop my kitchen daily and scrub toilets on a need-to basis. I suck at housework actually. Calie is the cleaner in the house, I'm more of a "straightener". But it's OK. I'm not winning any awards here but I'm not about to be fired either.

I guess I like the job I have now. It's harder than any job I've ever had. And it sure beats wearing pantyhose and heels everyday. Maybe one day I can work outside the home again. But if not--I'll be OK. I like my position--Vice President of my branch of the Family Tree.

Fan A Little Flame...

Romance. After almost 17 years (next month) you don't really expect romance. So, when it happens it is surprising, almost like winning a lottery. Last night I got me some--romance (and that other thing too). This time was better than last time. It was like a "hey, how ya been, I missed you" sex thing. It was really nice. I didn't feel creepy or very fat. Just a tad chubby. And it spilled over to today. Moonpie is off this weekend. That usually means things won't run as smooth. We have different ideas of how the house runs. I do it MY way while he is at work then I compromise and let him feel like he is running the show when he is off. But things went well.

Moonpie had to go to town (geez. Does that sound as "country" to you as it does to me?) and he wanted Calie to go with him but she didn't really want to go...So I went. We left Calie home in charge of Claudia and Carson and me and the baby went to town with Moonpie. We were gone for about 2 hours and it was so nice. Just us in the truck--I sat in the back with the baby but it was still real nice talking to each other instead of the kids. And at the store I felt like a newlywed with ONE baby. We took turns toting him around and cooing and gooing to him. It was nice. When we got back home Moonpie cooked hamburgers on the grill and I bathed kiddos.

I guess what I'm trying (not too well) to say is that I really felt like part of a team today. And our team won the homecoming game. Let's hope we make it to the play-offs!!

Hitting The Bottle...

I normally rely on Zoloft to get me thru the day without hitting on my kids. Or running away. Or planning a party of one in the trunk of my car, with a good book, a flashlight and the required amount of carbon dioxide. And I saw today that I'm running low. I have about 30 days left on my RX. Which means I will have to go back to my doctor and say "Remember me? The crazy chick? I'm still crazy." I really need something different or stronger. I'm having rages. Ever have those? Where one minute your kids (or your life) is OK. Then in the amount of time it takes to trip over another kid or scream at the top of your lungs "STOP SCREAMING!!!"...You snap. In two. Actually in four. Shattered. Then I feel like a bitch and a failure the rest of the day. Which makes you want to plan that party I was talking about... And I wonder how you say that to a doctor without getting either your kids taken away or yourself locked up in a straight jacket. So, hmmm, I need to figure out when I can get myself to the doctor. And what I say. I will obsess about what to say up until I say it. I will probably have to write it out. Make note cards (actually I'm kidding on the note cards...). Practice in the shower.

Then I worry that I will have to stop breastfeeding Caden. I LOVE to breastfeed him. Nothing sweeter than that plump, dimpled hand gripping my shirt--except him blowing raspberries and milk all over my nips (his new trick). I have been trying to get him to drink from a bottle. I've tried maybe 2-3 times per week since he was 6 weeks old. He hates it. He will suck my boob, my fingers, knuckles, even my chin. His fingers. Has sucked a paci twice. Sucked his toy stuffed giraffes ears and even attempted to suck Moonpie's nipple--but place a bottle in his mouth and he acts like you are feeding him poison. I've tried, like 4 diff nipples too. So he would starve if I had to wean right now. So, maybe I'll just stay on the "Z" and start drinking wine out of a box or smoking weed (I'm doing that kidding thing again).

Another good idea: Claudia is trying to convince me to have a tea party (RIGHT NOW MOM!)...And her idea of a tea party is drinking tea and eating chocolate. Chocolate sounds like a mood lifter...A pretty good drug if you ask me... Time for tea!

Kidneys and Refried Beans...

I took Calie to the urologist yesterday. They still don't have the "stone stuff" back from the lab. The doc wants to send her to a nephrologist (creepy name huh?), that's a kidney specialist. The closest pediatric nephrologist is about 120 miles away. Great. Groovy. Another whole day of school shot to hell. Calie is thrilled. I talked to the urologist about Moonpie--and his need for a snip snip here-a snip snip there...she gave me a pamphlet to bring home to him. When we were checking out Calie decided to get business card of her urologists to put in her "special box" (which is a box of every thing that she has deemed "special" since she was about 5--it's a big box). So. She picks up her docs card--and there are 3 more different cards there...2 are partners of Calie's doc and the other is for the R.N. Calie snaps one up, laughing her head off and says "Oh Mom!! We *gotta* give this one to Dad! Clip it to his paperwork!" I take the card from her and read it: "S. Hooter, R.N." haha Hooter! Get it? Oh well.

Today me and my sister. My sister and I. We went to a craft shop and bought stuff to make homecoming mums for my girls (Moonpie is taking them to the game Friday) and garters for her boys (their homecoming is 2 weeks away--different school district). I've never made a mum before...But they look OK. Calie said she would wear hers. Claudia wants hers NOW. I burned my fingers on the hot glue gun. Crafting is not my forte. They have footballs and whistles and bells and "Good Luck" charms. And rabbits feet... Pretty ribbons. After the crafting my sister took me out to eat Mexican Food (oh my heavens!). She let Caden suck refried beans off her finger--if he has toxic poo I am calling her to change his diapers. He thought the refried beans were yummy (they were). Carson behaved. Except once when Caden was fussing a little (wanted more beans) Carson said "Hurry, he wants boob milk!" and once he said (yelled at the top of his lungs) "I need to poop! I need to poop!" Other than that it was a good day...But I just heard Caden poop his pants. eeewwwww.

"A, Bay, C, D..."

Claudia is really learning her A B C's. I bought them a set of foam alphabets to play with in the bath tub. She knows alot of them by sight and knows the sounds of some too. The other night she sat in the bubbles holding a "B".

C: "Momma, I need the "bay".

Me: "What?"

C: "The bay...To spell baby."

Me: "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

C: "I need to spell baby. I have the "B" and I need the "bay"...You know, BAY B?"

She said it in a "gawd, you are so stoopid" voice. Smarty pants.

Poke, Poke...

Carson has this "thing" he does right now. I'm hoping it's a stage. One he out growns SOON. He loves to poke us in the butt. With his finger. HARD. Then he giggles like a mad man. Not just in the butt--but in the crack. We have clothes on--so don't think he is poking us in the raw. Or that we run around naked--we don't. Well, most of us don't. Everyone 4 and under love to be naked. The 14 and above set remain clothed at all appropriate times.

The other day, Carson, Caden and I went to pick up the Claudia from school. We got there a little early so we had to stand in the foyer of the school and wait for the bell with all the other "early bird" parents. So, I am holding Caden in my left arm. Holding Carson's hand with my other. There was this lady standing in front of us. She had to be wearing the TIGHTEST jeans I have ever seen. I'll bet when she took her pants off later that the seams were impressed all along her thighs. And all the rivets were accounted for too. Anyhoo--her *big* ass was right at Carson's eye level--so he couldn't resist, I guess...

Poke, Poke... I saw it. I yanked him back with my hand and said "NO! Don't do *that*!" I saw her s l o w l y turn around and look down at him with a little grin. And Carson said "Groooowl! (like a sick tiger, baring his teeth) I will scare you with my scary teef!!" And all I could mutter with a burning red face? "I'm so sorry. He hasn't had a nap."

Turned On...

I have been turned on to a drug. A drug so powerful that I have been spending all my internet time in one place. I have neglected my own blog, all because of "E". Have you read HER blog( http://www.myfuckingeye.com/weblog/ )? Go check it out...She is one cool cat (oops, wasn't supposed to mention cats!)! I am her not-so-secret-admirer and now she has turned me on to a harder, more addictive drug... DOOCE ( http://www.dooce.com ). I am so in love now. If I was gay I would be *in* love with "E" and Heather. I wanna be both of them when I grow up. "E" has a single, carefree life with Ken--and a cool job. And she take the best photos. I love her pics. She has balls. She will tell it like it is. And she is cooool. And young. And hip. Don't mess with her. Heather has balls too. And she is funny. Even when talking about her depression I am impressed with her. She is very honest about everything. And brave. I can relate to her and I wish I was as funny.

So that's where I have been for the past few days. Reading Heather's blog. From the beginning (of what is in archives) up to about June this year (still reading). And it's all due to "E" turning me onto dooce. Can't get the monkey off my back. Don't want to. And I am trying to get YOU to go take a hit. It's like Lay's--you can't eat just one.

Now I will try to catch you up on what's been going on here... My life is so boring --but it's all I got, ok?

My Secondary Infertile Tale...

Once upon a time I married Moonpie (after a long 3 month courtship). After 18 months I threw my birth control pills out of the window (not really). We didn't have to wait long. We had steamy sex alot and 2 months later the stick had 2 lines. Enter Calie. Cute. FUNNY.

"Let's wait til she is potty trained--then have another!" Then, "Let's wait til she starts school--then have another!" Then, without really trying, I got pregnate. We were thrilled. The day I told my parents--I started bleeding. I was so sad. It still haunts me.

That started the "Hunt for 2 Lines". I started writing down every time we had sex. Every time my period started. How long it lasted. Took several (waaay more than several) home pregnancy tests. Went to the doctor. Started taking my temperature every day. Charting my cycles. Reading "Taking Charge of Your Fertility". Joined online groups of other desperate, hopeful, Mommy wanna bes. Shared **baby dust**. Checked my cervical mucous (umm, yuck). Made Moonpie perform on demand. Don't worry, he enjoyed it all. For once *I* was begging for sex. Made him "shoot a load" into a cup (we were in a parking lot of a Mexican resturaunt) so I could have him tested (He had "Super Sperm") at a local lab. Peed on Ovulation sticks. Took MORE home pregnancy test (that I failed). Went *back* to the doctor. Cried. Alot.

Three years after I started hunting... I had my pipes cleaned out (my tubes were a little slow and they flushed them out). Three days after that--I got pregnate. I thought our world was perfect. We were moved into our new house. Moonpie had a good job at the hospital--in the medical field. I had a good job for someone eho had never finished college. I was a supervisor. Salary. We were bringing home about $5,000 per month. Then I was downsized (that company is in the toliet now hee hee). Depressed. Hospitalized (pregnancy complication). Had to sell our house (MY dream house). Enter Claudia. Precious. 2 girls--10 years apart! Moved. Then I found out I was pregnate again. What the fuck!? I hadn't even had a period yet! Claudia was 6 month old for Jims sake! Then I lost my mind. Zoloft was prescribed. I was put on suicide watch by Moonpie. Enter Carson. Momma's Boy. And when he was 5 weeks old, we moved 5 hours away to be close to family who could watch me while Moonpie was at work. Finally, the post partum/ptsd lifted...

Three years later, we were looking to buy another house. We were back in East Texas. Both of us working. Moonpie at the local hospital. Me in a local doctor's office. I was enjoying working. Our finances were becoming stable again. We found Moonpie's dream home. Out in the boon docks. A barn. 4 acres, COUNTRY living. I was on "that patch" that is supposed to work like the pill. One week before closing on the house, I found out I was pregnate again. WHAT!? HOW!? WHY!?

I quit my job (I puke ALOT while pregante). Jumped back on Zoloft. Cried alot. Was in shock. HATED my life. Had a few scares (and an amnio). Enter Caden. Awwww. perfect.

Now, I have 4 beautiful kids that I love more than life. Every single one of them are my most prized possesions (even tho a suspect 2 of them are possessed by Satan). I don't regret them at all. I treasure them. They make our family perfect. Moonpie and I are in love with them. He worships and spoils them all.

I know how hard it is to want kids and feel denied. And I know how it is to have those "OH MY GAWD" 2 lines. I wouldn't trade any of it. Or change any of it. It's made me who I am. Mom to four.

I dunno know nuttin' 'bout birthin' no babies...

First of all, don't be pissy at me. I can't help it. I can't. I know you are tired of hearing about my kids. But I have a few (four is really more than 'a few', isn't it?). And they are my life. Sure, I emotionally scar them and I have been known to want to beat the hell outta them (but I've actually only done it a few times--and if you don't know me :I AM KIDDING!). But this blog is not as cool as E's ( http://www.myfuckingeye.com/weblog/ )...it's about ME. And my family. My family that is full of stubborn, spoiled brats. That are adorable and lovey and huggy and make me laugh my ass off on a daily basis. And roll my eyes. And envision ads placed in the local Thrifty Nickel...

But last night it hit me. I was breastfeeding Caden. He kept looking up at me, one chubby hand flat on my breast. kneading it. Then he would break into the biggest smile, pull off the nipple--breast milk squirting all over. Drooly-milk running down his chin. Then he would realize that his snack was literally pouring out and he would turn his head, left and right, back and forth and "jump" back on the boob. *This is my last baby*. My last Johnson & Johnson's perfumed, diapered, fuzzy haired baby. When he weans there will never be another child at my breast. My boobs are almost out of a job (unless they get a BOOB JOB--then Moonpie will find *something* for them to do). It is very likely that Calie will be the next Mother in our family. eeeek. YEARS from now. Years, I say.

My brother and his 'ho (I mean wife) can't have anymore (thank goodness). My sister, who is a wonderful Mommy, HAD to have surgery that left her infertile. That's who needs to have a baby! My sister!!! She should adopt. She should! Her husband is a great Daddy too. They DO things with their family--they have 2 boys. Camp. Go fishing. They have a freaking "farm" on their tiny piece of property. A hog. A goat. Several dogs. Usually cats (but not right now, I don't think). A turtle. Fish. Two ferrets. A big hampter thingy--a Guniea pig? They used to have a turkey. Oh! and chickens. What kid wouldn't want to live on Old McDonald's Farm!? And she is like, the homeroom mom. And the Boy Scout/Cub Scout Mom/Leader thingy. They are the most loving parents.

So, I gotta find her a baby. She (I) needs one. If I start looking for one now--I might be able to find one about the time Caden starts walking--then I wouldn't really be "baby free"--would I? I could still soak up all that 'fountain of youth' stuff that Frank on "Everyone Loves Raymond" is always talking about... Now instead of being depressed about all the baby things that Caden is growing out of... I can start imagining the NEXT baby in them. The little gowns. The tiny, fuzzy socks. The cute onsies.

I guess I should talk to my sister first, huh? Ask her what flavor she wants and all.

And I guess (when we win the lottery) I need to see about getting Moonpie 'snipped and clipped'--so that if we ever have sex again I won't turn up pregnate. Funny how 6 years ago we couldn't get pregnate--and now I can't keep from it. And yet that's what we need to do. Keep from it, I mean.

Now I gotta post about trying to have a baby...when you can't.

My Favoritest Black N Whites...

I love black n white. It is so forgiving. The first picture is of Moonpie and Claudia. Claudia was about 3 or 4 months old.

http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y220/martiem/5618ef00.jpg

This next one is Carson and Claudia taken in 2004... totoally un posed too!

http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y220/martiem/a27cfcc2.jpg

And this one is Carson potty training. He *still* likes to sit backwards most of the time.

http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y220/martiem/55173503.jpg

Ok, that's all for now. Calie isn't fond of having her picture taken--and if I do she criticizes every hair strand that she imagines is out of place. gawd. I have no idea where she got the high maintenance stuff--certainly not from me (not kidding).

For Your Viewing Pleasure...

And my bragging rights...I'm gonna try to post a few (less than 100) pictures. The first 4 are all recent (like this week) pictures of the kids...
http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y220/martiem/3a1d2d9c.jpg

http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y220/martiem/cf52d63c.jpg

http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y220/martiem/003f9133.jpg

http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y220/martiem/25d091c3.jpg


Now I'm gonna try to post one of ME and Moonpie...it was taken October 2004 (our 16th Anniversary)...

http://i6.photobucket.com/albums/y220/martiem/51388cf9.jpg

All pictures were taken by ME (except the one of me and Moonpie--that one was taken by Calie)

That's all for now. Coming soon: Extra cute photos--my all time favorite black N whites.

Circ(us) So Lame...

Moonpie and I took the small kids to the circus last night. Calie stayed over at her 4H horse trainers house--to babysat her kids. Boy, they just don't make 'em like they used to huh? This circus was lameO. It was free for the kiddos. Cost Mom and Dad $12 each. Bottled drinks were $3 each. Little light up toys were $10 each. The look on Carson's face as he touched a huge scary ugly Python Snake: Priceless. And I didn't get a picture either. damnit.

But it was good family fun. Good "do something together" fun. Claudia really only wanted cotton candy. Half way thru Carson was saying "let's go home now". It was hot. I was sweaty. Had a raging headache but after I took 2 vicodin I felt GREAT.

The headmaster--no, ringmaster...Was creepy. First of all it was a woman. In skintight clothes. And she sing songed her words so bad that I couldn't understand what she was saying--but she was trying to sound like that dude that emcees for boxing..."Leeeet's geeeeet readyyyy tooooo ruuuuummmmbbbble".

A lady (using that term very loosely) in front of us kept trying to talk to the kids. She was missing alot of her hair and a few teeth. She sorta freaked me out. Any time I take the kids to the park or zoo or anything "kid friendly" I worry that some pedophile is lurking around there waiting to get a cute kid (and we all know mine are the cutest). Once she asked Claudia how old she was and Claudia said "Something stinks. Bad." and held her nose and crawled over the seat to sit with her Daddy. I don't know it her breath smelled bad or she farted. I just turned my head to escape a smell and so she wouldn't see me trying to hold back a big ole 'laugh in your face' laugh.

After the elephants came out and danced around we left. Got home about 10:30PM. Got everyone tucked in and headed to bed. Moonpie dreamed about werewolves and I dreamed about an elephant running off with our kids.

Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire...

Claudia came home from school yesterday. Singing "I have a new friend. I haaave a new frrrriend..."

ME: "So tell me about your friend, Claudia."

C: "Her name is Cassie. She wore a shirt with stripes on it. And a bow in her hair."

ME: "Oh, Yeah!? Is she nice?"

C: "Yep. She even takes naps. I don't take a nap. And she is little. Little like Taylor. And cute."

ME: "I'm glad you made a new friend."

C: "And she is in a wheelchair..."

OMG. I was so happy. What a sweet girl. She described her new friend and the fact that she was in a wheelchair was LAST on her list. How proud I was. Until later...

ME: "Tell Daddy about your new friend..."

C: "Her name is Cassie."

That was all. We couldn't get her to tell anything else. So Calie asks her: "Is she tall?" "Can she run fast?"

C: "She can run faster than ME!"

ME: "Wait a minute...I thought you said she was in a wheelchair?"

C: "Oh. I was just teasing!"

Little turd, here I thought she was so sweet and non prejudiced...And really she is a liar.

Ding, Dong The Stone Is Gone, The Wicked Stone Is Gone...

The surgery went great. They expected it to be about 45 minutes, but after 15 they called us on the little cell phone and said "We're done!"....Amazing. I actually thought when they called us (so soon) that they were calling to say "There was no stone". But there really was. Calie seemed fine in recovery. She was feeling like she needed to pee--so the nurse took her to the bathroom. There was blood in her urine and there was little urine. So the nurse gave her a pill to keep her bladder from having spasms and told us that the medicine would make her pee orange.

We headed home. Then her pain set in. She was hurting and crying all the way home. I felt so bad for her. We got her home. Percoset and bladder pill. And that nurse wasn't kidding. I'm talking ORANGE! She stayed home from school the next day--I'm still unsure if she was lying--but she *said* she had a headache. But now she is fine. We find out in a week or so about the stone--what it's made up of and all that jazz.

I'm just glad it's gone. Now maybe she can sleep in her own bed. And be pain free.

Today she said she had to tell someone HOW the doctor got the stone out. I'll bet the girl was almost as embarrassed as Calie was. I remember being that modest--a tampon commercial caused me much grief if a male was anywhere near and heard/saw it also. Heck, I remember being partially shaved while in labor with Calie and almost dying from embarrassment. The little "helper" type nurse looked like she was 16. My own husband had never been that close to my neither regions (with a razor and 700 watt bulb)--and here was a little black girl with a Gillette razor and no soap/shaving creme. Ugh. I break out in a sweat just thinking about it... Now, 4 kids later, half of the nursing staff at the local hospital has seen my "bits"...I should have charged admission...