What A Memorable Day...

One of my new friends had a small gathering at her house yesterday afternoon for Memorial Day. There was "C"--her very handsome husband,and their 2 girls. Then there was "E" (no, not THAT "E"), her husband and their 3 girls. Me and Moonpie and our 3 wee ones (Calie was at a friends house). And a couple from down the road--no kids, yet.

There were 8 kids--all 5 and under. There was a fun swimming pool--perfect for the kids. But Carson couldn't play in the pool. He and I were sunburned from Friday's Garage Sale (I made $200). But he more than made up for the fact he couldn't swim. He pulled his pants down 3 times--peed in their garage. Stuck his finger in the cupcakes before dinner. Was an all around pill. But sooooo cute. I can't help but have a special place in my heart that busts out laughing everytime he pulls one of his "stunts". He is such a BOY sometimes. And such a GIRLY BOY other times. His favorite thing to say is "Ima Cow WARD" or "Ima fraid E cat". And sometimes he runs around the house chanting "Ima REAL boy. Ima REAL boy". Or he talks robotically and says "Destroy Buzz Lightyear. Destroy Buzz Lightyear..."

She served a fabulous brisket. ((I just reread my post--boy, I really skip around alot, don't I?)) Cheesy Potatoes. Pinto Beans. Rolls. A wonderful salad. And a chocolate dessert thingy. And cupcakes. I had a big ole Dr Pepper and vodka. And a some of the salad. We played baseball (sorta) in the backyard. Pushed the kids on the swings. Watched them swim and watched Caden toddle around. We left and 9PM. I had to bathe the kids when we got home, then I popped them a movie on and went to bed. Caden slept GOOD last night.

OH! And I called Poppy, he's at home now--being seen by Home Health Care a few times per week and he TELLS me he is taking his meds--but he has been known to tell me little white fibs so I don't worry. I told him "Happy Memorial Day" and he said "Well thanks, baby girl...But I'm not dead yet. Only 3/4 dead." I told him that I was thinking of ALL the men who had fought and lived AND died that day in all the wars. Because they all died a little--don't you think? He sounded in good spirits.

I also got an email from a girl that was in the hospital with me when I was suicidal and major depressed. She sounded so good. And she is expecting. I am so happy for her. I thought about her alot yesterday. I hope she is taking her meds too ("R", if you are reading...Take care of yourself, OK?).

I hope you all had a nice long weekend and got to spend time with family and friends--and I hope you had FUN--I did.

Poison Control...How May I Help You?...

Oh My Goodness. I have never been so scared in all my life. Well, I'm pretty sure I was scared alot when Claudia grabbed a whole can of pepper juice off the counter and poured it in her face and had to be rushed to the hospital by ambulance--and I was scared when Calie had eye surgery when she was 5. Oh! And I nearly peed my pants when Carson had stiches and I had to do that all by myself (Moonpie was at work--but couldn't come down to the ER). But this takes the cake.

I was in the living room the other afternoon and I heard Moonpie say "Oh my God. WHO LEFT THE CABINET WITH THE CLEANING SUPPLIES OPEN!!!?" ummm...I think it was me. "Caden just got the cap off the furniture stuff and had the bottle turned upside down! THAT IS WHY YOU HAVE TO LOCK THIS CABINET!!"

I rushed into the kitchen and took the bottle away from Moonpie. 'May be harmful or fatal if swallowed' OMG. He's gonna die and it will be my fault. I asked Moonpie if he thought Caden had drank any. "Well. I'm sure he did, he had the bottle in his mouth and had it turned up as high as he could." He then tried to lecture me on the dangers of leaving the cabinet unlocked and just HOW did he get that lid off?!? I kept saying "harmful or FATAL if swallowed". Then I screamed at Moonpie that he was NOT helping by lecturing me. Then I cried. He told Calie to go with me and take Caden to the emergency clinic close by. He would stay with the other kids.

I got in the car and started down the road. Imagining they would put charcoal down his throat and then pump his tummy. And it was allllll my fault. Then I thought: "I'm gonna call his pediatrician." They advised me to call the poison control hot line. NOW. They gave me the number. I pulled over and called them.

The nicest man on Earth answered. I explained what happened. And he told me in a calm voice (while typing so fast on his keyboard) that it is only harmful or fatal if he throws up and aspirates it into his lungs. So, I took him back home. We kept him calm and not overfed. We watched him for 6 hours. They called me twice to check on him. I now have that number on my cell phone. I hope I never use that number again--but I know if I do they can help me.

So, go lock up all your cleaning stuff. Make sure the child proof caps are on TIGHT. And put that number on your fridge and in your cell phone address book--and I'll hope you never have to dial it.

PS: This was really scary and caused me to be overly anxious and I couldn't sleep that night--even after I took my gooood anti anxious stuff. And when I did sleep I dreamed the most awful dreams that should never be repeated out loud.

A Little Off The Top, Please...

I cut Caden's hair. His first "real" haircut. Moonpie trimmed around his ears and the nape of his neck a few months ago. He said he was looking girly. He even trimmed the front and gave him bangs. But I CUT his hair. With trimmers. I used the biggest guard. But it still is short. I cut off all his brown hair. Now he is totally blonde. All of my kids were born with dark hair. Carson's and Calie's were darkest. Almost black. And both of those two had the most hair. They looked like Mexican babies. Heads FULL of beautiful dark hair. Then it grows out...the hair never really falls out...It just starts growing blonde. So, they have dark ends and blonde roots. I did the same as a baby. I used to think that the dark haired baby in all the photos must have died--and they stole me away from my beautiful loving family to take the place of their black haired baby.

Caden went from looking like a little baby to looking like a little boy. He looks adorable. I wanna eat him. I wanna nibble his cheeks off and rub my hands on his head. Amazing how a haircut can change the way they look so much. He looks SO much like Carson now. Almost like twins (but 3 years apart). I can't get over it.

I swept up all the hair from the floor and put it in a baggie. It was ALOT of hair. Now I can put it in his baby book so years from now, I can dip my fingers in there and touch his baby hair--and I can sniff it and get a hint of Johnsons&Johnsons...or I can do it tomorrow!!

He is getting so big. And smart! Last night he walked over to where my sandals were, sat down and then lifted his foot high in the air and tried to put my shoe on his foot! We laughed so hard. And earlier today, Calie and I caught him clapping his hands and then "roll it up, roll it up..", we started singing the song and he laughed his head off. Could someone call Father Time and tell him to stop the clock--or slow it down some? It is going too fast.

The Picture's Say It All...

Caden's Birthday...

What's On My Head?



Now What's On My HANDS??!!



My Eye! My Eye! Oh Gawd....MY EYE!!

If You Give A Man A Chainsaw...

He will cut stuff up.

My sister. Bless her heart. She came home yesterday around 3:15PM to find that the HUGE oak tree that shaded her boys "fort", no longer did so. Her mighty oak was missing more than a few limbs. And the evidence was strewn all over her driveway and yard. She found a note from the local electric or phone idiots (forget which group was responsible) saying "We'll be back on Monday to finish the job". She is, to put it mildly, PISSED. She tells me that limbs that were not interfering with any "lines" were cut off. That her gate (you have to open her gate to get on her property) wasn't latched and that one of her dogs was roaming the neighborhood. They threw a nasty cigarette package on the ground, too. She is not happy. She has hinted that she will be there on Monday with a firearm, barring access to her property. If I was them...I'd be scared. I hope she doesn't get arrested. I am short on bail money this month.

She may be short. She may look meek and mild (actually she doesn't). But she carries a huge can of Texas-sized "Whoop Ass"--and she WILL open it up on ya. If I was brave I'd hide in her house and catch it all on tape. But I'm afraid. Very afraid.

And You Wonder Why I Am "Crazy" (aka Insane)...

The past 17-18 days, Cliff Notes Version:

On the 30th Claudia was dx with an ear infection, a few days later Carson was too--along with strep. He puked (that word really describes it well too) on me twice. On himself twice. Pooped his pants once. On the floor 1/2 a time. Got a shot once (but stabbed twice). 3 copays at $20 each= $60 that was probably owed to the electric company.


All 3 on antibiotics (but different ones). One "pink kind" @ 2 tsp, 3 times per day. One white kind @ 1 tsp (or 5.5 ml) 2 times per day. This one needed a straight jacket and 30 minutes of bribery. EACH time. Another white kind. Can't remember the dosage--but we finished it I promise. $10 + $10 + $10 = $30 that was probably owed to the lunch ladies for Claudia's seriously over drawn account.

BOTH pregnate cats (Greycee and Maycee) gave birth one the same day... in the same place...we now own 7 kittens, 3 cats, 4 dogs, 1 horse, and a partridge in a pear tree. The animals food costs more than ours now. PS: The Mama cats are tag teaming it. We have no idea who's babies are who's...they have no idea either. A mama is nursing 24/7. OUTSIDE, in the barn.

Calie met a 17 year old boy. That she likes. He is bad. He has done (prob still does) drugs. Has had sex. Hasn't graduated high school (cause he isn't GOING). Lost his driver's license--I mean it was TAKEN from him for too many speeding tickets. And he callllled her!! wth!? But he lives in another town (she met him at her best friends house). So, there will be no "dating" this dude. Ever. Ever.

Had my MRI. The tumor "appears to be a 'lipoma'--" Which is fancy talk for a fatty tumor--a glob of chicken fat. But I'm seeing the oncologist anyways--since the MRI can't say "malignant". AND they found an ovarian cyst measuring 2.7 X 3.something on the opposite side of my body. Did I tell them to look for other things? No. I've had cysts before. 3 that I know of. ALL 3 sent me to the ER (once while pregnate with Claudia)--when they busted open and spilled their VENOM inside my body. So, of course my GYN wants me to wait until June 7th to "see if it has shrunk" Ha. yeah, right.

My Mother In Law (whom I ADORE), gave me kitchen towels for Mother's Day. And she bought a necklace (I am sooooooo not a jewelry person that I won't even be able to describe it other than): It is gold. Has a mom and baby on it. and either diamond are good look a likes. She gave it to Cliff to give to me "from the kids". Is it really ungrateful to say that I really wanted a new digital camera? OH YEAH!!! Cliff broke my camera--so now I am using a throw away instead of my Olympus Camedia. (sniff)

I started donating plasma for $50 per week. Plus, it makes me feel good about myself.

Took Caden back to the doctor. He has another (or still) ear infection in one ear--AND they gave him a breathing treatment, on account he has been coughing and wheezing..for days. Seems it helped ALOT. So we now own a machine. And I get to hold him and blow smoke up his mouth/nose 4-5 times per day, while he screams bloody murder. So now he's on the "z" antibiotic--which doesn't come in generic. $35 copay for the machine. $50 in antibiotics and liquid smoke. $20 copay at the docs = $105, all in one day...no food included.

Registered Carson for Pre-K next year (a thing both longed for and dreamed of).

and the best thing that has happened in the last 17-18 days?? I drank a sangria margarita! And was nearly drunk for 45 minutes. Ahhh, bliss.

Can't wait to see what is going to happen next!!!!

It's My Party And I'll Cry If I Wanna...

Friday, Caden turned one year old! Can you believe it? I can't. And he is walking further. He walks like a drunk monkey.

He hated (mostly) his party. He has had a runny nose and hadn't slept good in a few days. He was Mr. Fussy. When we gave him his own cake he had to be forced to touch it. Then, after he got icing on his hands it went all down hill. He hated the icing on his hands. Then he rubbed his face--getting icing all over it and IN his eye.

There was quite a few people here. Luckily it didn't rain. Moonpie grilled 16 hotdogs and 30 hamburgers--and all but 1 wiener and 2 patties were eaten. Kids seemed to have a good time. I think Moonpie let a few kids ride on the horse. And they loved running and playing in the backyard. All smokers stayed on the back deck. Caden got clothes, The Baby Leap Pad, Mega block, The Leap Pad caterpillar, bath tub toys, A Talking Dog, A T-Ball toy, and a few others (can't remember them all right now).

The next day (Saturday) I took him to the doctors...His runny nose, sleep deprivation for us both...I was thinking ear infection (AGAIN!!!). Turns out I was right. Both ears (again!!). I'm calling his pedi tomorrow--I took him to the clinic here in our bitty town...pedi is in bigger town 45 min away. Thought I'd save us a few $$ in gas money by going here. I am so sick of him having these ear infections. He's had about ear infections in 5 out of the last seven months.

So, today he is still Fussy. No fever. He is sleeping better. But I'm not. Thursday I took Claudia in to the docs...ear infection for her also. And TODAY I took Carson in. He has an ear infection AND strep throat. I am so tired. Everyone is fussy. Even me. 3 kids are on antibiotics.

OH, I went to see my GYN Thursday also. To have a check up on the ole HooHa. The tumor thing. Seems it has grown to almost 7 cm. OMG. He wants me to go to Dallas to a specialist. Some sorta GYN/Oncologist. But I am having an MRI here first. The MRI is on Wednesday. Please pray or burn incense or lay out carrots or whatever you religion requires. Lets hope this is just an obese left side of my HooHa (I'm not just a fat ass--but a fat HooHa as well)--and not CANccccccccER. And if you have chemo, does it make ALL (as in ALL) of your "hair" fall out? Like on your head, arms, legs and your, ummm....you know...AND your HooHa? That would be sooooo weird.

OK. Lets hope everyone takes all their meds. I had to take Carson back to Direct Care to get a shot--he has refused to take his antibiotic all day. Is still running 102* fever...and is so lethargic and quiet that I'm wishing he would be back to his ole ADHD self. (What am I thinking???)

Ahhhhhhhhhhhgggggggg!!!!

Bye Bye, Bipolar...

I hate bipolar. I do. It is a sucky thing to have and to witness. My Poppy (my Uncle who raised me--and I consider him my Daddy) is bipolar. He is a disabled vet of Vietnam. Paralyzed from mid chest down. Lost both legs in the last 5 years due to poor circulation. Has gone off the deep end on several occasions.

And now again he is off in his own world. He isn't the best about taking his meds. Or rather he will be good for a while--maybe a year--then go off them. Drink. Stay up for days. Not eat or take care of himself. Then he gets bad pressure sores that get MAJORALLY infected.

And his mind. wow. On Saturday he went "shopping". Have you ever seen a bipolar go shopping?? When they are on a high!? It's bad. He just bought $1500 worth of guns. THAT is scary. Later today me, my brother (who Poppy is close to) and Mimi ( his wife and my Aunt/Mother) are going to do an intervention of sorts. We have to convince him to go to Houston to the VA Hospital. He is convinced that The Houston VA is out to "get him"--so it will be hard. But he HAS to go. His butt is infected. He is trying to get my Aunt to cash a $30,000 cd for him. So he can go buy what? Guns for everyone he knows? A car? A sailboat (he has bought these things in the past!)?

Think of me...I have a love as deep as the ocean for this man. And today he will be mean to me and I to him. He will say hateful things to me. And crazy things. And I will say ANYTHING to get him help. My Daddy is sick. And I just want him well. And alive.

I wish I could kick Bipolar in the ASS! I hate it.

99 Bottles Of Beer On The Wall...

99. That's alot right? That's on up there on the ole numerical scale. That's how many posts or entries I have on the blog now. I am amazed. To think I actually have spent 99 times in front of the computer trying to put my minds ramblings and scatterbrained-ness into words. I feel almost proud of myself. Or in awe anyway!

I have no real hobbies. Unless sleeping and eating are hobbies. Once upon a time I liked to cross-stitch. But I never really finished that project (my sister did, years later). I once liked to read novels alot. And I read faaaaast. Like a book a day. But now I can only read magazine articles--short ones, like in People. Now *this* is my hobby. My time to unwind. And yet, even that is interrupted with dirty diapers and bumped heads and a husband calling "What are you doing on the computer?!" or the dryer going off. Or the timer on the oven filled with chicken nuggets and french fries.

So, really these few (99!!) posts are about all I have--all that are MINE. Each one should have taken brief minutes to do--but I can promise you that every one was halted or delayed numerous times each. Including this one.

But it's MINE. All mine.

Go Fish!...

Moonpie took me and the boys to a park the other day...They have piers for fishing, parks for swinging, cabins--for camping. Carson had a great time. We all did. Maybe we will even camp there this Summer...Maybe.



You should have seen the one that got away!!

*dancing*--Like Snoopy...

I am so happy, proud and joyful right now (this minute). The past two weeks have been full. Full of stress. Full of hard work. Full of...Well, stuff. But I am happy right now.

Calie has been working really hard. She had decided to try out for drill team! This child of mine hates physical activity. She is a COUCH/bed potato. She has never even taken ONE dance class in her life. She is long, lanky (88#) and a little on the clumsy side (after me). She is NOT limber. At all. She couldn't even stand up, bend over and touch her toes without being in pain. But she went to the clinic. She video-ed the routine. She practiced. She stretched. She breathed, ate and slept this routine. She can *almost* do the splits now. She worked so hard. I am SICK of hearing Wynona (sp?) Judd sing "Hunka Burning Love". Ugh.

Friday afternoon were tryouts. 57 girls were trying out for a spot on the drill team. 21 of those were on the team last year. I wanted it so bad for her...I had the WORST headache. My eye had been twitching for 2 days (still is) because I was SO stressed/nervous for her. After her group of four went into the gym (parents were not allowed in to watch the tryouts)--she came out with a shaky smile. She said she did "ok" but that she messed up a little at the end. Her Daddy was the only Father who came to tryouts. I was so proud that he did--He took the kids home while we all waited for results--but it was nice that he came and stayed until after she performed.... After everyone had tried out, they had "call backs"--some had been marked a "maybe" and the judges wanted to see them one more time before making a decision. Calie was called back. She was upset because that meant they didn't say "yes" after her first attempt. But I told her it was just a second chance to fix everything that she thought she had messed up on. To smile bigger. She point her toes more. To kick higher. To show them how hard she had worked and how bad she wanted this... After her call back she felt better--but still very nervous. When they handed out the letters (some said "Congrats"...Some said "please try again next year") Calie and her friend (who was on the team last year--who really helped Calie practice) decided to open their letters together outside. Some girls opened their letters right away. It was sad to see the faces of those who didn't make it--you could tell right away--their chins quivered, their hands shook, their eyes filled with tears. My heart ached for them and my stomach churned--please, please, please let Calie get a good letter...

M. And Calie opened their letters together. They cried together. They screamed together. They jumped up and down together!!! *I* cried. Girls who didn't even know Calie ran over and hugged her. There was one group of girls hugging, laughing and jumping around screaming. And another a few yards away--hugging, crying and so very sad.

I am so proud of Calie. Of her hard work. Her determination. She really did deserve it. Cliff and I are so proud. This is what she needs. A group that she can "belong" to. She will feel special. Her confidence will increase. Her "friends" will increase (she was always a "one friend at a time" person). She will have the social life she always wanted. It feels like a dream. To her and to us. We are sore from smiling so much. She goes to camp in June to Louisiana. She can't wait!

Congrats Calie! We love you and are SO proud of you. My little dancer girl!

(Now I need to get a part time job to pay for this--it is EXPENSIVE to be on the drill team...But even if I have to pick up cans on the side of the road...My girl is gonna DANCE!!!!)

The Past Few Days Were Yucky...

It has been rainy. Claudia has had notes sent home from school the past 2 days. She has punched two "friends" (maybe not friends anymore) in the stomach, threw a hissy fit over her cup color at snack, bumped into people in lunch line (and NOT accidentally) and was mad that she didn't get to go to art's and craft's table FIRST--so she removed someone's name from the board and put her own name there--her way of trying to *steal* their spot. So, she and I can't go on the class field trip Friday. Because I told her after bad day #1 that if she had another bad day this week, we weren't going--and she had a bad day the very next day. I have to stick to what I said, right?!

Yesterday the kids and I had friends over for dinner...And one of the little girls was using the bathroom-and instead of Carson telling me *he* had to use the bathroom--he just pulled down his pants in the dining room and peed in that girls chocolate milk!!!!

Calie had her first "clinic" for drill team trots. She is frustrated and overwhelmed. They went so fasssst. She feels like she has ZERO chance. But she does, she just needs to get with a few of the other girls and between them they will be able to remember the entire dance...Then they need to practice their asses off. Moonpie took her out to eat tonight--and they aren't back yet-- it is NINE FREAKING THIRTY. They left at 4:00PM. I know they went shopping 'cause he called me and asked Claudia's size...But this is ridiculous. I am pissed. It is a school night. And I had to eat fish sticks with the brats--umm, kids.

And bathe the beasts. I ran their water and then went to put their clothes in the laundry room--when I got back they had poured an entire bottle of DOG FLEA AND TICK shampoo in the tub. Aghhhhhhh!

I am feeling lost. Sorta depressed. The kids aren't minding me. I feel like I am yelling too much and spanking to often. I hate this. I hate how I feel right now. Like an awful person/Mother/Wife.

Gotta go...Heard a key in the door.

While Is Is NOT Cancer, It IS:...

Some sorta freaky tumor. And this is how I found out...

My sista came over and decided to go with me and the boys...They would wait in the truck while I went in. I was glad--gave me someone to talk to on the way! I got there and was weighed. His nurse is hilarious. I told her that she needed to warn Dr L that I had NOT shaved my legs AND I wasn't wearing make-up. I figured that since I had the baby and wasn't seeing him as often, that we weren't "dating" anymore and I didn't need to impress him. She then asked my about my "lump". 'Do ya think it might be an ingrown hair?' I told her no, it is UNDER the skin. Not on top. She smiles and says 'Ahhhh, you are going to be my *interesting case* today!' I exclaimed 'Yippeee! Now you will have something to discuss over lunch!' My sarcasm laced humor was lost on her. BUT she did say, after I shared my fear re "CANCER", 'Nah, it's not cancer, don't worry'. Whew! She then tells me to get undressed from the waist down and cover with the lovely paper sheet. They REALLY need to work on their foreplay!

Dr L. comes in and I have to tell him about the jello. The jelly. The Lump. The knot. HE snaps on gloves and feels me up for a good, silent five minutes. The nurse came back in during that and is watching, waiting...so engrossed and entertained. I look at the ceiling and try to convince my thighs that they "CAN" stay open and relaxed, even as they are screaming to snap shut like a screen door.

*THEN* he asks for the sonogram machine! What!? Why!? To get a "closer" look. I ask you how much closer does he have to get? His face is inches away from galaxies that have never been seen before--and he has prodded me with every finger he has. So he puts jelly on the wand and then smashes the knot into mashed potatoes (OUCH!). The nurse asks "Is that it!" and he ignores her. OMG. Then he shows her and says that it isn't fluid filled it is solid (is that good or bad?). And he asks me if *I* wanna see it. I say "well, if it doesn't have a heartbeat and legs I won't know what I'm looking at." But he shows me anyways. It looked like Moonpie (HAHA). No, it looked like...A black grape. Squished. He helps me sit up. And tells me it is a tumor. That we need to "watch it" right now. He said he didn't feel it was necessary to remove it just yet. It is 4 cm in diameter. That if it had fluid in it he would just drain it (OMG). If it grows before my appointment in 6 weeks I have to go in right away. I said "Well, ok, as long as it isn't cancer!" and he replies "I don't think it's cancer". WHAT!? You don't THINK it's cancer? How can we find out that it is NOT cancer? I should have said those things but I didn't...Moonpie did when I told him.

So I wait. And fondle myself 4 times per day. But get no joy in it.

But I DID get the new "ring" birth control. Ya know, that ring you shove up there and wear for 3 weeks...take it out, have Aunt Flo visit and then 7 days later, put a new ring in? Better that taking a pill every day. I hate bc pills. I do not have sex every day so, I don;t want to pop a pill for it every day. But this thing, I have sex about once per month...I don't have to remember to take it out, rinse it off, swallow it every day and back up this for X many days/weeks. So, we will see. He gave me a sample--I'll let ya know when I try it on. Tell ya if it is a keeper or not. I am soooo not excited to be putting more hormones into my body. But oh, well. If I have another kid I will die...really, I probably will.

Stay tuned for the next installment of "Her Tumor, Her Turmoil..."

The Warranty Has Expired...

It is so official. I am falling apart. I went to physical therapy yesterday to be assessed. Kevin(*),my physical therapist, said he is *sure* it isn't my hip--that it is my BACK. A disk. Bulging. My lower back has been hurting. But not all the time. Off and on. But I always thought "Oh, I must have over done it. Bending over too much to pick up 1,000 toys. Putting clothes away. Lifting 20 and 30-something pound kids. Making beds, emptying and loading the dishwasher." You know, regular ole everyday stuff. Kevin said that the disk is bulging really bad when I feel the pain in my hip/leg--that it is "transferred pain". So he told me to be diligent about proper posture. Use Aleve. And gave me an exercise he wanted me to do 10 of, ever hour(!). I did it about 4 times and the pain in my hip WENT AWAY!!!! But the pain in my lower back is some of the worst pain I have ever experienced (not counting the 2 ovarian cysts that ruptured, labor 4 times before the epidural kicked in and mastitis in my right boobage). I am in pain that 2 Darvocet or 2 Vicodin can't even tickle, much less touch. Trust me, I tried them both yesterday. I do believe that I am what old people call "down in my back".

And the dreaded, middle age metabolism is here. Yesterday I ate 1/2 a piece of Whole Grain toast (no butter/jelly or peanut butter), LOTS of water, and a small handful of Teddy Grahams--nothing else, and lost NOTHING. Actually, I weighed 149.0 yesterday AM. This Am I weighed 149.2--What!? I can't even starve properly. Maybe I should get braces. That has worked for "E". I bet she is looking "smoking" too. I, on the other hand look fat and frozen.

To top it all off--it is 39 degrees this morning. I live in TEXAS people. Not North Texas. A part of Texas that sees snow about once every 5 years. A part of Texas that is so hot and humid in Summer that your eyelids sweat. You will discover sweat gland that you never even knew existed on the human form. So, 39 degrees is freaking COLD.

In summary, I am old, fat and cold. And I smell poop (no, not ME. I still have control of my bladder and bowels...tho, I am sure that will be the next thing to go--after the removal of half of my 'gina due to "C"--I go see *that* doctor Friday). sigh.

*--"Kevin" may or may not be his real name. I may have made it up--and I may have been in too much pain to think of an alias for him.

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...