The Worst Thing About My Vacation...

was leaving. I love Mimi so much. I wish she lived closer. I always feel safe with her. And OK. I know she *knows* me... And I know she loves me and my kids. She is a saint. Ok, maybe not a saint--but she is one of the largest blessings in my life. She saved me when I was in middle school when I ran away from home. And she continues to save me almost daily. She calls me and checks on me. Almost every day. How special is that? Her and my sister are my biggest sources of support. To know that you have someone who truly loves you and is THERE for you--priceless, man. Priceless.

Our trip wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Most things aren't as bad as *I* think they are going to be--but I still continue to think they will be BAD. Go figure.



It was cold and windy...didn't stop the college idiots from wearing bikinis and shorts. Of course, if I had a hot body I would wear a bikini in the winter too! Moonpie and I took Carson and Claudia to the beach one day. We flew a kite. Walked on the shore...picked up sea shells, buried a fish head that had washed up. Built a sand castle. Tore it up. We had fun--until Moonpie's IBS (the shits See? Told you it was the theme of my life) forced us to go back to the house. I took a picture of the wee ones (Carson and Claudia) in the bluebonnets behind Mimi's house.



Calie got to spend quality time with Tara, my brothers wife and a dear sweet friend of mine. It made Calie feel special. I hated leaving--but we stopped by friends of Moonpie's (an older couple who adopted him and Calie when we lived there in 2002) on the way home. They have a farm and the kids love(!) chasing chickens, playing with the hoard (LOTS) of goats, petting the horses and watching the cows and peacocks. Claudia fell down in some poo (pick the stinkiest animal and that was it)--but she didn't even care. She cried when we left. She loves the farm. Carson does too. Calie loves the L's. They sent 2 dozen fresh eggs with us. So sweet.

We came home and I washed clothes for 3 days. Claudia stole one of Josh's (my brother) guitar pick--so she had to write an "I M srrey" letter and send it back. The kids started back to school today. Sigh. Vacation's over.

I went to my physical therapy appointment today--and was told that it wasn't today--it's tomorrow. Uh..., I am a dumbass. And I made me an appointment with my Gyn...to have my "thang" looked at on Friday. Joy. This was after watching "My Life" today on dvd. Remember that movie? With Michael Keaton and Niocle Kidman in it? He has cancer and makes a video for his unborn child? After I dried my tears I called my doctor. I sure hope my kids don't have to tell their friends/teachers/strangers that their Mom died of Hoochie Cancer.

Oh! and Caden is really scaring me. He finally got those 2 front teeth to cut thru (yesterday) and is REALLY trying to walk. GULP. He will be 1 on April 28th. One. With teeth. And walking. Nooooooooooo! It is going tooo fast.

Well, it is late here (10:30 PM is late for me) Moonpie is on the toliet, again. So maybe I can hurry and get to sleep before the smell creeps down the hall and gets to our room.

Night Night.

National Looney Family Vacation...

Spring Break. Just doesn't mean the same when you are 37, married and have four kids to take care of. Remember Spring Break when it meant hanging out at the lake, drinking, wearing a bikini and swimming in the freezing water? I never went anywhere more exotic than Galveston but Spring Break always meant fun.

This year, Moonpie took off from work, the kids will be out of school and up my ass for NINE days and we are going to Mimi's house (near Galveston). All of us. All six of us. In a vehicle that has a maximum capacity of six. Uncomfy. No leg room on account of the diaper bag, toy bag, and all the crap needed in the back seat for 3 small kids (not counting the magazines and iPod for a 15 year old--who will ignore everything--lucky wench).

Moonpie hates to talk while driving--he likes to think (what? what is *thinking*? who has time for that?). Calie will be plugged into the iPod. Which will leave me to referee. Read "The Foot Book" 1,500 times. Sing "The Wheels on the Bus"--all 300 verses. Change 2 dirty diapers on he side of the road, while balancing on my knee a 19 pound, flopping, fish out of water baby boy who only wants to rip his testicles off and test the texture of poop with his fingers. Luckily I can make either Claudia or Carson sit in the front with Moonpie and Calie. So, I will sit in the back between Caden and the other--who will whine because THEY have to sit in the back. I can hardly wait to pack 700 lbs of clothes for everyone (just me and 3 of the kids, the others can pack themselves!). And remember the sunscreen. And baby wipes. Baby food! Every medicine that has "Chilrens's" or "Infant" in the name that exists. Then the visit itself. Someone else's house. I have to protect their belongings from drool. Being climbed on. Broken. Stolen (Claudia). Try to keep everyone on some semblance of schedule and order--or they will terrorize me when we get back and it will take 3 weeks to get them to bed on time. Wake up and not act like "GrumpleStealsKin".

Aught to be fun, huh? Plus we have to bring two small yappy dogs, in that vehicle. WITH US. And clean up their pee and poop--since Mimi's dogs (2 yappy Yorkies) are supposedly "paper trained"--but they miss the paper more than they mark it--so my dogs will think it is a free for all when it comes to urinating and defecating. AND *my* dogs will be accused of allllll the poop. 'Cause her boys are "paper trained"! Also, I am SURE it will be my responsibility to find someone to feed 3 bitchy cats and 2 HUGE labs--and feed the horse while we are gone.

And they call this a vacation? From what? The only good thing? I can buy alcholic beverages in the GROCERY store there!!! We leave Monday AM and get back Thursday AMish/afternoonish. Miss me ok? Maybe I will update while there--but I may not have time. Can you believe that? I will have less free time on vacation that I would if I stayed home!

(Dont think I havent already thought of sending everyone on vacation while *I* stay home!--that was majorly vetoed)

(*humming*)...I Am A Bad Girl...

I forgot to tell you that Dr Tinkerbell Hogan gave me a RX for....Darvocet. Did she not READ what meds I am on!!?? Did my Ancient, Father Time PCP not tell her I was a depressed, suicidal (well, not this week), anxiety ridden FREAK?! Obviously not. So, I took one last night. I don't know if I took it because I was in pain so much as because Claudia screamed at me (keep in mind she is 5, in Pre K, has ZERO bangs due to a mishap with a pair of Fiskar's...) "I hope you CHOKE on an apple peel!" All because I wouldn't make her a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner. That will really make you feel loved and appreciated. After contemplating on spitting in her mashed potatoes (I did not) I popped a darvocet. Which may have helped--because about 30 minutes later I couldn't care less if she ate a dirt sandwich!

I might have slept good last night--but Caden is fighting another illness. He is so restless. Snotty. Boogery. His cheeks are red (he always gets an eczema flair up close to sicky times). But he also is courting 2 top teeth. They haven't decided to come all the way out...but the gums are so swollen and the skin is strained. He also has the SMELLIEST poop when he is sick/teething. omg. Why can't crap smell better? My life is so full of shit (literally) that it really would make my days better if it didn't smell so bad. Caden has pooped 3 times (I gagged 2 times), Carson pooped once (but enough for 3 grown men)--he was impressed with the size and color--I was impressed with the stench. I skipped lunch today because of it. Great diet aid.

Oh! And one of the dogs who will remain nameless (POPCORN) who doesn't like to get her toes wet with the morning dew has taken to crapping on the *Welcome* mat--now what sort of message are we sending there? Right between the 'W' and the 'e'. "Welcome to the House of Shit"? "Welcome, but leave your shit at the door?"
Good thing she is semi cute or I would feed her to the hawk that keeps flying over trying to decide if she is a rat or a roach.



Gotta go do some chores that does NOT include poop. Laundry and Dishes. Two more things I could live without doing. And I always seem to have ALOT of that to do.

PS: "E", my ho haa, 'gina, twee twa, or vah-jay-jay is clean. #1. It is rarely used by anyone other than me (no. really. RARELY.) and #2 I don't sweat. I refuse to do anything that causes me to perspire. That's one of the reasons I have about %50 body fat. *I* don't weigh an ENORMOUS amount for my height (5'7", 150#) but ALL of me is cellulite and chicken fat. But my fat is clean. And my jello-knot is about the size of a boiled egg yolk, but not that round. More flatter and gelatinous. But thanks for the giggles--I would giggle too but it causes my vah-jay-jay to shake like a bowl full of jelly(O)! tee hee

And If Cancer Isn't Enough--You Can Have THIS too...

I think that in my last post I forgot to mention that I have this "hip thing" too. Surely you remember the posts about the "quack crack" doctor... Remember? My first visit to a chiropractor? Aha. You remember. Well, I mentioned to my PCP at my last visit that obviously the pain in my hip wasn't my depressed mind's way of giving me physical pain. I know this because I have been feeling somewhat NOT depressed. I also haven't been having as many thoughts of ODing on Vicodin and killing myself as much!! Let's celebrate!

But first, back to my hip. I went and saw a "sports medicine" doctor today. She was a slight person. Short hair. Looked like she was kin to Tinkerbell. I mean that in a purely jealous way. She grabbed my leg and man handled me like *I* was Tinkerbell and she was Hulk Hogan. I went there to find relief for the constant pain I have been in for years--and left there in the worst pain I have been in--in years!! She had (another)set of xrays taken. I explained to her in the most simplest of terms where my pain IS ("If I was Barbie and you RIPPED my leg off--then tried to jab the leg part back into the hole--THAT is where it hurts."). There (of COURSE) was nothing on the xray. So she comes to the medical conclusion that it is "soft tissue". Says I obviously injured my hip flexor awhile back and then with all my coddling of that leg...I put all my weight on the other leg. Favor it when sitting, walking...well, even breathing, that I have caused it to tighten in such a way that my range of movement (pain free movement) is quite limited. So, lets MOVE it she says. She wants me to go to physical therapy in a heated pool 2-3 times per week for a month--then reevaluate it. Which in MY mind means: We aren't sure WHAT is wrong with you lady, but we will take your copay for a good month--then try something else when that doesn't work--haha!!

So I had to go buy a swimsuit. oh gawd. I won't depress you with THAT story. Just know that I have one. And even tho I look awful in it--if I see ONE geriatric patient in the pool that looks better that me--I will die. Of embarrassment.

I'm sure I'll get to bore you with even more details of my hip escapade. So now I have decided to put off the vah-jay-jay crap until it hurts me worse than the hip. I am falling apart people. Piece by piece.

Am I A Hypocondriac(sp?)...?

I am convinced I have cancer of some form. Yesterday I felt like I had/have cancer in a mole on my side--right where my new bra sits--sorta in my rib area, under my arm. Ya know where I'm talking about? Well, I have this crusty mole that I pick at and pick the crusty off--it will scab up, heal then get crusty again. I know, now you can no longer look at me the same way--but it beats picking crusty boogers, right?! I know it's not *normal* and I've been seeing my reg ole PCP quite regular since my "hospitalization"...But I never tell him. Why? 'Cause I know he will want to cut it off with a Swiss Army knife and then burn/cauterize my delicate skin--and I will sit there smelling my scorched skin...Watching the smoke drift into the air...Then wait a few days to get the ALL CLEAR! Or CANCER verdict.

But today. Today is worse. Today I am convinced I have cancer of the vah-jay-jay. Or Twee Twa. Or "'gina" (as Claudia calls it). I have a cyst like, jelloish, squishy, knot like thing on the pubis area of my hoo ha. Only on the left side. So it isn't like my vah-jay-jay is just "fat" (like the rest of me). If that was the case it would look normal(er). But it's only one side. One side is fat--the other skinny(ish). And the jello/cyst? It is movable--but not like MOVABLE. Hard to describe. Please have no fear--there will be no picture posting of this anomaly. I can barely bring MYSELF to look at/touch it. And now I feel the need to call my OB/GYN. "Ummm, I need to see Dr. L, please" "And what seems to be the problem?" "Ummm...My vah-jay-jay is fat on one side?" "Explain that please" "Ummm...It isn't a lymph node. It isn't an ingrown hair...And it isn't some freaky-deaky strain of VD. It is like jello has been injected under the skin on one side of my vah-jay-jay." "Ms. I really have no idea what you are talking about. We will see you this afternoon at 2PM" Then I imagine EVERYONE will want to go into the exam room with me to see a vah-jay-jay filled with Jello. Then Dr L will tell me that one side of my vagina needs to stop eating cookies and needs to get more exercise. sigh.

Oh. And my lower back is KILLING me, as is my hip (still). I go see a sports medicine doctor (a orthopedic?) on Thursday. I hope it isn't cancer eating away at my bones.

PS: I am in no way making fun of people who actually HAVE cancer...I am making light of the fact that *I* can't stop my anxiety ridden mind from making every ache pain and Jello cyst be CANCER. If I offended anyone, I am sorry and you shouldn't read anymore of this blog 'cause I will certainly offened you about SOMETHING else. Fer sure.

More Pictures Of Nothing Really...

I Suck Lizards...

I am awful at cleaning. I SUCK. At home and at trying to fix my links. I screwed something up and now there are NO links. I might try to figure it out later and I might not.

Just know that "E" at: http://www.myfuckingeye.com/

and "Y" at: http://ebonymommy.com/blog/

and SQ (who never updates--so, hmmm...you might get tired of looking for something over there--but you can bitch at her like I do and maybe she will post?): http://scoutmom.blogspot.com/

and Heather, oh Heather...how I love me some Heather: http://dooce.com/

Are my favorites.

Like the new me?--but I sure have aged since that last picture...and it's only been 2 years. I LOOK like I have 4 kids. And I LOOK like I've recently been in the Nut House for a week. My eyes look tired. Look at those puppet lines! I need a face lift! And Lipo! and my boobs surgically put back where God intended for them to be! PS: That new Ipex bra from Victoria's Secret? It is the best thing since sliced bread! I am in love with my bra!! I can't keep my hands off myself...hee hee!



And here's a few from our outside in the back yard day...(Saturday):

Nanny and the kids hiking into the "woods":



A bunch of pinecones on the ground, a lil taste of East Texas:

I Gotta Do Some Cleaning...

And reorganizing. And redecorating. Of this blog here. So, hopefully today--but tomorrow fer sure! I'm gonna get my links right...So you can see who I LOVE LOVE LOVE..."E"..."Y"...And the part time player: SQ. I'm gonna post PICTURES. And a new one of ME on my profile. So you can see my bangs and brownish/muddy hair. I took some "nature shots" yesterday that I want "E" to see.

Me and the (little) kids spent sooooo much time outside yesterday. We all got a tad bit of sun on the cheeks and Carson has pink ears that I want to nibble off. And that attractive farmer neck. We picked up rocks in the pasture. ALOT of rocks. We have an infestation of red rocks. That's why we like to call our little piece of land 'Red Rock Ranch', cause that's what we have the most of here. We played chase. Hide n go seek (the doghouse was the favorite hiding spot). My Mother In Law (AKA Nanny) was here...And so were Erin's (a friends) two girls. Nanny took them on an 'exploration' of our property. We only have a 3 acre pasture...But 3 sides of the fence line are wooded sorta. So we wove in and out of rotting tree limbs. Looking for 'treasure'. The dogs (all four) and one of the cats went with us. It was a grand ole time. I even discovered that there is a creek that runs right behind our property! eeeeek. I see Carson diggin' in the mud back there in a few years. Or getting snakebit. omg.

I told you that I took Caden to get his ears checked on Thursday right? And they were "clear"? Welllll, last night he had an awful night. Crying. Whimpering. At first, at 11PM, I thought "maybe too much playing outside yesterday--over tired"? But then again I don't think so much after my Trazadone tablet takes effect. But, later, at around 2AM--after standing/wobbling beside his bed, patting him, offering a bottle (which he flung across the crib), trying to find the perfect pootie (paci), changing his diaper, finding his favorite night night blanket--it came to me: he sounds like he is in pain! He was even growling, like he was getting pissed off...So I went and got him a dose of Loratab. THAT did it. After about 20 minutes he went to sleep and didn't wake again until 8AM. When I fed him breakfast I saw what appeared to be a honking huge piece of ear wax. Nasty reddish-orange-yellow in hue? So I dug my pinkie nail in his ear and snagged it--but it wasn't wax. It was all crystally-sandy like. A discharge? I Dunne. You think that was it? Please tell me that his ear drum didn't bust! Not while I stood there--swaying in a trazadone high. Should I take him to the doctor? sigh.

OK, I might try to get some pictures uploaded onto photobucket--keep checking back for PICTURES! But I might email some of the nature ones to "E"--wouldn;t want to bore you with all the pictures of rocks and pine cones.

Lata Tata.

Shopping With My Sistah (AKA: I Got Waxed)...

I asked my sister to go with me today on my "Day Off". PS: Robin, if she called in sick--she really was--she threw up at least twice--maybe 3 times.

First, let me tell you that Moonpie and I got into a squabble a few days ago. Over my housekeeping skills. Really, it classified as WWIII, but for the faint at heart I will just call it a squabble. I told him that I was taking Wednesday off and that HE would be responsible for taking care of the (ie HIS) children AND the house while I went "somewhere" allll day. AND he had to clean... He asked me "where are you going?" and I replied "ANYWHERE but HERE".

So, I needed a bra that a)fit me and b)wasn't a nursing bra. I have a coupon for $10 off a Body By Victoria bra and a free panty! Plus they will actually MEASURE you. I told the chick I was a "36 long"--she claims I am a 36C...whatever. We went to a discount store first and SQ bought sinus medicine, then she threw up in the bathroom while I waited in line at the register to purchase a $3.00 (clearance people!) massager...for my HIP, ok?! I JOKED that I was naming it BOB...Battery (no cord!) operated Boyfriend. And a man in line heard me...I was mortified but none the less amused. Then we went and got our haircut. I got about an inch off--SQ got 10" cut/whacked off. Enough to donate to Locks of Love!!

Then we went to the mall. And I got a wax job!! On my eyebrows!! My first time EVER. But I was confused...because *after* she ripped, what she claimed was only a "few" hairs out, she PLUCKED alot too. I do look fetching tho. But not right now...right now I am sitting at the puter in my panties--no bra, with haircolor on my 'do (going back to my "root" color, which is in the "brown family". PS: Bob is still in the car and I am home alone. hee hee. But back to our trip...Then we ate (ok. We ate BEFORE I was waxed but I am not going back and redoing my story--)at Chicks fill A (I know I misspelled it, I meant to).

THEN, we went into Victoria's Secret. SQ told me Victoria's secret: She is an expensive tramp! I got measured. Then realized I left my coupon IN THE CAR!!! So, I will get a new bra (maybe 2) tomorrow. Gotta take 2 kids to town for check ups and ortho appointments!

But the killer? I walked into a CLEAN house. And he has them at the park. WHY!? Why can't it be hard for him like it is for me!? It's not fair. It's not.

Ok, gotta go, the timer is going off...gotta wash that fake blonde outta my hair....

I Heart You...

Awwww, you guys?!! You are too sweet...and obviously I am a creep--it has been almost a week since I last wrote. Let's see, what has happened since then?

OH! I got my meds...90 days worth! So I will be sane for at least another 3 months!! Yippee! (sigh) So, let the games begin!

Claudia cut her hair. She was doing "crafts" and didn't like that her bangs were in her eyes so she grabbed her hair at the scalp and "snip"! She looks retarded. Or just darn silly. Can't wait to see what they say at school.

Carson is on a tear. He is into EVERYTHING. Backtalking. Poor boy will have a permanent scar on his tounge if he doesn't stop sticking it out--soap burns, ya know. And he has been spending alot of time in the corner for saying "Then I don't love you", sometimes I say "Good to know" when he says it--sometimes I make him stand in the corner. Sometimes I ignore him--my therapist would cringe if she saw that. I should be consistent. HA. I am...I am consistently inconsistent.

Calie went on a "date" last night...a triple date. A girls mom took them to cracker barrel and dropped them off--they met 3 boys there. The boys paid for their meals. Calie said her "date" barely spoke he is so shy. I think she is not attracted to him--but he is to her! haha PS: Moonpie is unaware...he would FREAK OUT!

Caden...10 months tomorrow. He is so funny. He loves his pootie (pacifier). If I have a bottle in my hand and he is in his bed standing...he will plop down on his butt and throw himself down on his tummy, roll over and wait for me to hand it to him. He gets so excited when I open the dishwasher--he can crawl at warp speed to get there before I shut the door--I have to sneak to load and unload it now.

Moonpie brought me and Calie tulips the other day--for n o reason. And he brought Claudia a snow globe with the Disney Princess in it. Carson got a car. hmmmm...wonder what that was about? He also took me to Target to buy a bra that fits me--but there were no bras there in my size--I tried on about 7 bras. I think I am a 36D...but some were too small--some were too big--none were *just right*. I HATE HATE trying on bras. But he HATES HATES seeing me (not that he sees me often) in my old nursing bras. He also bought me 7 new shirts and a blazer. He picked them ALL out. I just tried everything on (yuck). He said it was his tiny version of a "what not to wear" episode. Now he gets to throw 8 items in my closet away. joy.

Claudia went to the dentist last week. Needs about $500 worth of dental work done. It's all my fault. My depression made brushing their teeth about #943 on my priority list--oh, wait, I didn't HAVE a priority list then. I shiver to see what Carson needs done to his teeth (his appointment is next on March 9th). eeeekkkk.

We only owe $600 on Calies ortho stuff--gonna pay that bill off on Thursday. That will save us $120 per month--about what our house payment is going up per month (due to taxes and escrow)! yippee. not.

My sister bought me some scrapbooking stuff. If you only knew how many pictures 4 kids has created. I dread trying to sort them out into some sort of "sort" thing. Sorta. hee hee

A few weeks ago I saw my favorite "loon/druggie" on local TV. He was backlit. And was going by an "alias"...but I recognized his voice. He has had a relapse. I wanted to call him up--meet him and hug the life outta him. I miss him. I should have him over to the house. Feed him and snuggle on the couch and watch the "LoGo" channel! Moonpie/homophobia King would FREAK OUT there too.

I think I forgot to tell you that Josh and Tara (my bro and sis in law) are expecting a BOY--wait, I think I already told you...sorry.

Well, I am putting off writing down all my receipts into the checkbook--then going on line and consolidating the freaking thing. It HAS to be done before Moonpie comes home or I will be grounded. I am soooo bad about holding out on my receipts--it will look like we have $$ in the checkbook--then I (or he goes on line and sees what I've done) and shit hits the fan--blows in my face and then I smell like shit for about a week. So...I better go do it and hope we aren't overdrawn...omg. Pray for me. No. REALLY. Pray.

DO Feed The Animal...

You know, sometimes I feel like a monkey or a jackass even, at the zoo. Here I am in my little cage. You are watching me. Waiting to see if I will eat a bug or throw crap at you... Ooo Ooo Ahhh Ahhh. I am semi housebroken. And I like for the visitors to visit. I do. You wave at me and I'll wave at you. But if you want me to do tricks. Really stupid tricks...You have to give me something people.

Like most bloggers I crave attention. I want you to give me a comment people! I see you--sneaking over here. Would it kill you to give me a crumb? Please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?

Monkey wants a banana please. I'll give you one back too--ok?

OK, This Will Be Soooo Quick...

It is 12:45PM and I am still in my PJ's, the house is a WRECK and I'm hosting a birthday party tomorrow...Carson is in his underwear and Moonpie comes home today around 3PM. EEEKKKK.

Caden was diagnosed on Valentines Day with ear infections in both ears (AGAIN). This is the fourth round of this since Nov 15th. Ugh.



Carson and Moonpie went to Dallas Wednesday, spent the night. They had a BLAST. Went to a few hunting/fishing/camping stores and basically *looked* at everything. When you are 4 looking at stuffed beavers, bears, deer, otters, coyotes and watching live bass fish swim in a tank and pretend riding around in new ($$$)boats is FUN.



Calie...hmmmm. Same ole same ole. 15. Hermit-like. Subway obsessed.



Claudia. My sweet girl. She is America's Next Top Model--check out her pose/makeup and hair! She did it all herself!



Almost 2 weeks ago I got a form letter from our insurance company. Seems they are discontinuing to cover Effexor XR. *With* insurance it costs me about $35.00 per month. Not bad. Without coverage it will be something like $135.00 Needless to say... I was/am anxious. My doctor (remember Mr Personality {not really}?) didn't prescribe it to me--a real HEAD doctor did while I was in the Shrink Hotel (Looney Bin) but then my doc continued my prescription based on how well I do (most times) on it. So I freeaked thinking that my doc will not have a CLUE about putting me on something else... Then I find out that Effexor doesn't HAVE a sub. It is in a "class" by itself. Greeeeeeeeat. So, I went to my docs and had them write a 3 month RX...I'm gonna see if I can get a 90 day supply--that way I will have 3 months to find a new drug. wean off my Effexor--ramp up on the new stuff. OR plenty of time for me and my doctor (who is a big pussycat--he couldn't scare a flea) to fight the insurance company. I mean, you would think they would rather pay for my meds over paying for another in-patient stay. What do you think? $100.00 per month or $15,000 for 5 days? Or longer. hmmmm. They really don't want to fuck with a crazy chick. I *was* suicidal--homicidal could be next (I'm kidding in case you don't get my sense of humor)!!

My new dog "Halo" (who was an angel in December at 7 weeks) is contemplating a name change to "Pitchfork" or "Forked tongue" or "Lucifer"...He has chewed up about 10 pacifiers (or "pooties", as they are called by ME). He gets so happy sometimes that he weee-weees on you (Or my sister. Or the new friend I had over here a few days ago). He is quickly turning into a shithead. But he is SO darn CUTE.




Josh and Tara (my bro and his new wife who is pregnate) are expecting a BOY in July. I am so thrilled. Gotta go through my baby boy clothes now!!

My sister FINALLY updated her blog. After I threatened to bring Carson over for a few days if she didn't do it. See the address below. OH, and if you have a quick connections, go see: www.hurricanehead.blogspot.com There is some funny crap over there (not really crap--stuff). I saw about 30 seconds of video--took me 3.2 days to download (slight exaggeration) but it was so funny.

Gotta go. Things to do. Later gators

PS: Therapy appointment yesterday. Another verification that I am screwed up and that it may be too late to reprogram my brain--or maybe it is just too much work--If I got paid for trying to be sane I would already be rich--it is HARD work. And I am lazy.

The Fantabulous Four...

Carson will be 4 on Saturday. FOUR. Seems like last week he was 18 months old. Now he is almost four. A few weeks ago he started drawing his version of people! You know. They are big, round. No true "head". Just totally potato shaped. With long, string like arms and legs, no feet, no fingers. They just flow off the page. Huge eyes. And a straight across mouth. just "_________" like that! Some have scibbles of hair across the top. If you have hair. Some are bald. But ALL of them have smaller circles where their belly buttons would (should?) be. And then a scribble inside the smaller circle. I thought it WAS the belly button. But it seems we all have babies in our tummies. Daddy does. Claudia does. Everyone does.

He has been quite sweet lately, too. I have been proposed to daily. But I have to wait til he is "beg an srong" like Daddy is. But if we have a fight I am threatened with "ten I'm not gunna marrrry yew!" I tell him I'll be OK. I already have a husband right now. He doesn't care.

Sneaky. Oh, so sneaky. I just asked him what he was doing (can't see or hear him). The "nuttin'" always gives 'em away, doesn't it!? He was spraying Febreeze onto the cereal box. His reason? 'cause he wants cereal! geez.

He goes to the dentist Thursday. I'm making Moonpie take him. I will break out into a sweat and hives if I take him (plus I have a therapist appointment). Not because *I* am afraid of dentist--but because I KNOW he willl Frrrreeeeaaaakkkkk. He is so liable to bite someone. Or something. Moonpie has tons of patience for this sort of thing (mainly because there will be witnesses). He will be able to reason with him. I refuse to "reason". It just prolongs the tantrum, in my opinion. When someone needs a splinter removed with aid of a needle or they need to take medicine that taste like bubble gum flavored rat poison or even if they need drops inserted into their eyes--Moonpie has to do it. I want to hold them down and GET IT OVER WITH! He wants to take a 45 minute break and talk to them about how the medicine will help them feel better. The splinter will fester and get infected and they may need to see the DOCTOR for a (gasp!) shot. Or he will hem and haw about the drops and that it won't take but a second (plus 45 minutes) and then it will be allll over. Just the other day I was deeep cleaning my bedroom--took the mattress and box contraptions off (we used to call those boxed springs--but there are no springs in mine?)...and vacuumed under my massive king sized ship...um bed. And the I used furniture polish. Oh how it gleemed! Then as I was making the bed I heard "sssss". Claudia was trying to spray the polish. About then she did--into her face! I asked if she sprayed it in her eyes. She did. The can says flush with water immediately. I call to Moonpie. We go into the bathroom and she starts to freak out when she hears that we will have to pour water in her eyes. I swear...he started to reason with her. I said "Come ON! It says immediately--not after you explain it to a 5 year old!" Luckily he saw my reason (for once). You would have thought we were pouring finger nail polish remover into her eyes. But in 4-5 minute it was OVER. and she was fine. Bet she never sprays something in her eyes again.

OK, back to Carson. He is finally jealous of Caden. He tells me to "put him down". "There is only room for one boy in your lap--ME!" I've seen him push him down. Drag him by his legs down the hall (to get him away from a toy). Caden thinks he is the silliest thing around. Brotherly love. My first tiny boyfriend is getting big. Pre-school in July. A small bike with training wheels on Saturday. I hear him telling Caden now, in the kids room: "Babies can't play with that. Give it to me!"

He will be "beg an srong" soon. And I will be his Mama. Always.

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?)...