YAY! 2 a.m. wake up from Ruby Duby Doo!

Normally I wouldn't want the dog to wake me up just so she can get into the bed, but last night was definitely different.

Ruby is a little spoiled and she gets to sleep in the bed with us, if she is able to wake us up to put her on the bed. She isn't tall enough to jump up herself, plus she has a little junk in her trunk and would never be able to hoist herself up if she were tall enough. She can barely make it on the couch without a running start. She is a sweet girl and so cuddly that I don't usually notice I have put her in the bed. She comes to the side of the bed, puts her paws next to me face and acts like she is jumping up by herself. She is close to 20 pounds so I just drag her body up over the side of the bed and lift the blanket up so she can get comfortable.

Last night she woke me like she has been since it has been cooler outside. I drug her up over the side of the bed and she got nice and comfortable in between my arm and side with her head resting nicely on my shoulder (sounds cozy doesn't it?).

All of a sudden I heard a noise, like that stinking mouse was back in my room. I was very still to make sure I wasn't imagining it. I heard it again, the mouse was back in that box that it got out of earlier. I nudged Tony to wake him up.

"Honey..." I whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Honey, the mouse is back in the box."

"What I am supposed to do with it?" he mumbled.

"Go get it and put it out in the big trash can. It can't get out of that."

"Only if I can sleep 30 minutes extra in the morning."

"What? Are you kidding me? Go get the mouse. I don't care when you wake up in the morning."

He got up, crawled under the desk, took out the box, ran out the garage door and put it in the big trashcan outside. He comes back to bed and says, "I get to sleep until 7:00."

I was so freaking happy that mouse was gone I had trouble going back to sleep. I did get back to sleep and woke up on time, not worried about stepping on the little rodent. I began working and I usually get about an hour and a half of work in before the kids are up for school, but Wesley had other plans. He woke up very early at 6:30, which is normally when I tell Tony he needs to get up and get a shower. So much for sleeping a half hour later then he wanted.

ACK! I think I saw.....

A FUTTING MOUSE!

I get up early every morning, around 5:00ish, this week more like 5:30 after hitting the snooze button 4 times. It is dark in my room, I get up, walk to my desk, turn on the computer and read my email until my eyes can see clearly. Then I begin working, usually about 15 minutes after sitting at the desk. I am barefoot and in my pajamas. Since it has been cooler this last week I am covered in a blanket. I put on my headset, dial into the hospital dictation network and get typing. I take a break around 6:00 and get my coffee that has just finished brewing.

At 7 a.m. I have to fix breakfast for my school kids. I have now made it through my first cup of coffee. Tony comes in to help get the kids out the door and I head back to work. Wesley is typically still sleeping at this time of the morning.

Today was no different except for the rain which meant Tony was going to drive the kids to the bus. I made breakfast for the kids and prepared their lunches for school. I came straight back to the bedroom with my coffee, put the headset back on and began typing some more. I don't usually put my contacts in until I am finished working so I can see what I am doing, but not much of anything that is far away. Since it was still dark outside this morning the bedroom was still sort of dark, but I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye run along the baseboard under the window. This window is 2 feet away from me. I took a second look and then figured it was just a shadow. About five minutes later Tony came to get his shoes on to leave for the bus. He had just walked out of the room when I saw the same shadow again going the other direction.

WHOA! That's it, feet are up in the chair.

I quietly yelled "Honey?!?!!!!"

"What?"

"Can you please come here?!!!!"

"Why?"

"Just come here, I saw something."

"What?"

"Something rrrrraaaannnn down there." (pointing at the baseboard)

"A mouse?"

"I don't know if it is a mouse, but it ran like one??"

He tells me he has to take the kids, he'll be right back. I nod my head and say "OK?!???" Then, I hear my daughter say, "Um, Daddy. She looks a bit scared."

Then I realized I was crying in fear. Fear of a little, itty bitty mouse.

We had a mouse one time before, our cat took care of that for me. We don't have the cat anymore because she went to heaven earlier this year. I am really missing her today. Not just because of the mouse, but definitely MORE today because of the mouse. My dogs could care less about the mouse. You would think my dachsunds would be going nuts with this little creature roaming around the house. I mean, hello, they have the absolute best sense of smell I have ever seen. But...what are they doing? Sleeping.

Finally, I decided that I would just pretend like I didn't really see a mouse and maybe it was my peripheral vision playing silly tricks on me. I haven't gone into any dark rooms today and I will definitely be turning on the light in the bathroom and closet, but maybe, just maybe it really wasn't here.

Unfortunately, this pretending isn't working out so well. I was sitting here checking email and I heard something, something plastic ruffling around, I thought, Ruby must be messing around with something, but I didn't see her. Then I thought, we maybe she is under the bed. So me, all 32-years-old, fully dressed, and still barefoot is standing up on the bed calling the dog. She wasn't under the bed so I know what that means. I called Tony, at work, asked when he was coming home. He said in an hour. That seems so long to wait while there is an actual rodent in my room. He sweetly tells me to watch where I am stepping and giggles. HAHA. Real flippin' funny.

He better watch out or I won't be killing spiders for him anymore, the little chicken butt.

Tagged Again--Books

Well, I was tagged about a week ago. This will most likely be the more boring tag my friend Tess made since I don't have that many books and cannot remember the last time I read something other than a children's book.

1.) How many books I own: I own about 50 including 3 bibles. My kids have more books than me with a whooping 300ish. Growing up I was not a good reader, I was and I still am more into music. I made sure to expose my daughter to both and she loves to read and loves to sing along to the radio in the car. I plan on doing the same thing with Wesley, he seems to love the books and music just as much as she did when she was a toddler.

2.) The last book I bought: The Red Tent. I have read about 3 pages and I am very interested in actually finishing it, but by the time I get ready to read I fall asleep.

3.) The last book I read: Clifford's Bedtime and before that it was Goodnight Moon.

4.) Five books that mean a lot to me:


1.) Guess How Much I Love You
2.) Goodnight Moon
3.) Moo Baa LaLaLa
4.) The Runaway Bunny
5.) Pat The Bunny

5.) Five people I’ve tagged: I have a feeling by now everyone I know that blogs as been tagged, so I will spare them from being taggedagain.

I've lost it

I say I lost it so many times in a week. It always means something different. Sometimes, I just feel like I might lose it, other times it is definitely lost. I guess the 'it' part is what changes the most.

Somedays the 'it' is my patience. I think I lose this the most. Somedays it isn't even there when I wake up in the morning. Typically this is around that special time of the month. I warned my dear husband yesterday...it's almost time for it to get here again. With each month it seems to be worse, my attitude sucks, I start feeling sorry for myself, I feel ignored or disliked by everyone in the house besides the smallest ones (Wesley, Ruby and Lucky).

Today's 'it' is my willpower for junk food.

I am one of those people that looks in the mirror and analyzes themself down to a little crease or wrinkle in their forehead. I am not really sure why I put myself through this kind of torture, but I do and I have no way of stopping myself. I am happy, though, that I do not do this in front of my daughter. I really hope that she never feels like I do when I look in the mirror.

I have had this battle with myself regarding my body image for well over ten years. It started before I had my first baby. I had always been a skinny little thing, but I hit 21 and realized that getting drunk and eating Taco Bell at 3 a.m. was an exciting thing to do. It wasn't too wonderful for my waistline, butt, or thighs. I had never exercised and it seemed silly to even attempt it since I was a smoker and felt as if I were dying just riding a recumbant bicycle for more than 10 minutes at 10 MPH.

When I discovered my first pregnancy I quit smoking. That caused me to eat pretty much everything in sight. The food tastes and smells so much better after you stop smoking. I remember one day after work making myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in no more than 4 bites. It was the very BEST sandwich I had eaten in my entire life. I gained 60 pounds with that pregnancy.

After a year of carrying around about 40 pounds of extra weight I started Weight Watchers. This program was great since I could still eat a lot of the foods I was already eating and I just gave them all a point value. Plus, they counted walking in the store or mall as exercise. I lost about 20 pounds, but could have lost more with real exercise. I felt really good about myself, but stopped the meetings and gained all the weight back over a short amount of time.

Then I decided to go to the gym. I had the trainer set me on a work out schedule and he talked to me about calories, fat, protein and carbs. I actually found it all pretty interesting and followed the Ballys plan for quite a while. I realized that the cardio aspect of exercise wasn't so bad after a few weeks. I lost that same 20 pounds, but actually looked and felt better than I had in a long time. I even trained and completed 2 full marathons and 2 half marathons within a 1-1/2-year time frame.

After my second half marathon, I wasn't able to walk like I had been before since I had taken on two extra kids and moved to a not-so-walker-friendly neighborhood. I put some of the weight back on again (exercise is definitely a major key), then I got pregnant. During this pregnancy I was very careful about eating and only put on the recommended 30 pounds. Most of that was baby with Wesley weighing in at just under 11 pounds. By the time I had him home from the hospital I was only 5 pounds heavier than before my pregnancy began. I tried to see what would come off by itself and didn't really change too much myself in the food or exercise department. Well, nothing came off. I actually gained a couple more pounds and by Christmas I was actually right back to where I had started when Amber was born.

When Wesley was about 9 months old I decided that enough was enough. I was going to be thin again. I was going to wear a smaller size. Oprah said she was going to tell us what she did on her show. I waited patiently for the show to come on and I watched it without interruption. I bought the book that her trainer wrote.

I started on February 15th. I weighed myself, measured myself and didn't eat any refined sugar all day. I got a headache, but took some Motrin and it went away. I stopped eating 2 hours before bedtime just like she recommended and I walked 30 minutes in the cold, all for me. I wasn't doing it for anyone, but me. I realized that I don't do a lot of stuff for just me and it felt good to put me first some place in my day. After the first 12 weeks I had dropped 25 pounds and several inches and sizes. I started out in a 14 and was in a very loose 10. That is some serious progress.

It has been 8 months now and I continue to stop eating 2 hours before bedtime. If I go passed my normal designated cut off time I will actually stay up later to compensate for it. I haven't been able to exercise like I want to and I can tell I am starting to flab up a little bit. We have had a ton of parties, weddings and special events in the last month and that has really killed my "no refined sugar" rule.

I haven't put on any weight yet, but I have bought a ton of clothes in my new size 8 and I don't want them to be tight. I have to get back on track. My plan is to start fresh on Monday, October 17. The weather is supposed to be mild and in the 70s with sunshine. That is perfect to get back out there walking.

I feel like I am letting myself down and I really hate that feeling. I look at myself in the mirror and I truly just want to be healthy, but I do want to look good while I am looking healthy. I have stretch marks from all the way up here and all the way down to there and I am proud of those, my babies gave them to me. I don't want a tummy tuck or a boob job. I just want to feel better about myself.

So, if the 3 of you who read my blog would please get on my arse a little and say, "Hey, you been walking today?" And, if you need me to do that for you, just let me know.

It seems just like yesterday

Winter 1997, Ut oH, I'm pregnant. What the **** am I going to do? I am unmarried and I know that the father doesn't want children, at least not now in his life. He just started grad school.

I decided that abortion is not an option. It would be selfish to take this route. I was already in love with my little bean growing inside of me, it took about 1 day for that to happen. I decided to get family backup before breaking the news. My mom and grandma were completely supportive and I could see the excitement in their eyes. They were like little diamonds jumping around in there. I decided it was time to kick the old smoking habit so out the window went those smelling things. I told the dad, his eyes fell out of his head and his jaw hit the floor. We had been dating for quite some time, but we had had our ups and downs and we didn't even share the "I love you notions" that most couples share. After about two weeks he had come to terms with the situation and decided it was OK for me to have the baby. Did he really think it was his choice anyway? I had already began planning this person's life. I was doing it with or without him. I had my family and I knew in my heart that was all I needed.

The pregnancy was slow going. I was huge though. As slowly as the days passed, the pounds were adding up at twice the pace. I gained a whooping 13 pounds from weeks 10-14 of the pregnancy. I thought the doctor was going to die. I got all of the questions, what are you eating, how much do you eat, buy fat free food. Not one pencil thin female doctor even considered that I had quit smoking and most people gain weight from that alone.

Finally, by week 25 my weight had leveled out and the nice man doctor told me that it is natural for some women during their first pregnancy to gain a lot of weight in the first half of pregnancy due to hormones, etc. He also mentioned my quitting smoking and asked what I was substituting for my cigarettes. I told him plain and simple "I substitute cheese for those cigarettes." I was huge, hot, swollen and completely in awe of the miracle growing inside of me.

I also found out at week 21 that I was having a girl. Hello pink, purple and peach. Anything pretty and frilly.

By the end of my pregnancy I had gained a whooping 60 pounds and I was convinced that the amount of water I was retaining could easily take care of the summertime drought. My daughter's due date came and went, but she never showed herself except for the tiny lumps in my belly that happened to be her right shoulder and left knee.

Finally, on October 2, the day before the day I was scheduled for induction, labor begins. I had never felt such pain in my life. When they say it hurts, they aren't lying. I spent the first 14 hours of labor at home, pretty much alone. Steve, my daughter's father, wasn't much help. In fact, he went to bed around 11 p.m. and was sound asleep while I battled contractions all night. Around 6 a.m. I woke him up, told him it was time to go and called my mom.

I arrived at the hospital 20 minutes later and requested drugs immediately. They checked me out, I was already at 5 cm, but the doctor wasn't there so I had to wait for my epidural. They did give me some pain medicine through my IV. This stuff made me feel as if I had done a few shots of Jager at the bar. But, I didn't care about those contractions anymore and I thought that was great.

At 2:30 p.m. I met my daughter. She needed a little assistance from the vacuum suction, but I was ready to get her out of there. She didn't make a sound, but I wasn't worried, for some reason I just new that was the way she was going to be, not too loud. She didn't cry for the first hour of her life. She just looked around in awe of her surroundings. She met almost all of her immediate family and then was shuttled off to the nursery to be weighed. As she left the room, so did the trail of visitors. I guess my part was done. It wasn't about me anymore, it was about her.

She was beautiful, I was sitting and thinking about her face, her fingernails, her toes, her chubby cheeks. She had perfect fingers. They were long and straight with perfectly shaped finger nails. Her eyes were dark blue and her hair was light brown. I did a pretty good job, if I do say so myself. About 5 minutes after the crowd left, my mom returned, apologizing for leaving me alone and also to fill me in on the weight of my daughter 10 lb 2 oz and 22 3/4 inches long. She was huge. Then my mom was out the door again. She also told me that my Amber knows how to cry. As soon as she got that heel stick she let the world know that she didn't care for that sort of attention at all.

Watching her grow over the years has been one of the greatest blessings in my life. To know that she is learning from me is frightening sometimes, what if I don't set the best example? What if she thinks I don't like something about her? Does she really know how much I love her? These questions are the questions I ask myself all of the time. She is eight years old and I still question myself as a parent. I see how she is with other children, strangers, and adults. She is well-mannered, smart and friendly. She isn't shy. She is outgoing and very spirited. I don't know where she gets it from, did I set the example or was she born with that already inside of her?

Motherhood is the best 'hood' to be in for sure.

All grown up!

When I was ten years old my mom was going to have a baby. I had really been an only child my entire life so this is going to be a different situation entirely. My other two sisters didn't live with us and so we only saw them on some weekends.

I watched my mom's tummy grow larger and larger as the days passed. She would come home from work with a watermelon and eat the entire heart out of the thing leaving the other parts for the rest of us. It was summertime and this baby was due to be born in September.

Now, my birthday is in September and even though I was thrilled to have a sibling I did not, I repeat, did not want to share my birthday. That was MY day. That baby better be born either before or after, but not on My day. A week before My day we thought the baby was coming, but nope it was a false alarm. We were sent home from the hospital. My birthday came and went, still no baby. I was wondering if the baby would ever come.

Then, one Thursday morning, September 27th to be exact, at 1:30 a.m. I was told it is time to get up. We have to go to the hospital, the baby is coming, NOW! I got dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray crew neck sweater.

My Grandma (I'm still the favorite) was there to meet us and she and I sat in the waiting room of the hospital. There is another woman there too. Her daughter is having her first baby. My father had come out, only once, to say everything is going OK. He looked tense though. He must have been nervous. The other lady's son-in-law comes out and tells us that his wife is fine, but there is this lady back there and she is screaming her lungs out. My grandma and I just kind of looked at each other with big eyes. The other lady said to him, "These two are expecting a baby to be born too, this little girl's mommy is back there in delivery right now." The man then quickly says that it probably isn't my mommy screaming. Well, it was.

A very short time later (around 4:45 a.m.) we were paged by the hospital to come to the labor and delivery hallway. We got up, told the other lady good luck and rushed to labor and delivery. The first thing I see was my mom, without her glasses, squinting and holding a baby. My SISTER was born so quickly that there was no time for the epidural (screaming) and barely any time for the doctor to get into good catching position. She literally came flying out. She had a head full of dark black hair. Her little face was red and slightly cone-shaped and she wore a pink hat. She was beautiful. I can honestly say that I felt an enormous amount of love as soon as I saw her.

Today she turns 21, she's grown, almost a college graduate, owns a home, still beautiful inside and out, smart, and one of my most precious blessings.

I've been tagged

Three Random Facts About My Closet:

1) I cannot see the carpet on the bottom of it because it is cluttered.
2) The door sqeaks.
3) There are no extra clothes hangers.

Three Items I've Never Worn But Still Haven't Tossed:

1) A pair of brown heels. I bought them on clearance to go with a dress. When I got home and tried them on again I realized they were way too high and way too narrow for me to walk in.
2) A pair of brown pants. They are very nice, but I bought them 3 years ago, gained weight, and out grew them. They fit again so maybe I will get to wear this this winter.
3) A pink shirt from Old Navy. It was birthday present from my sister last year, but I was having some weight issues and felt it was too tight. This, too, fits better now. I will most likely get to wear this during the fall/winter this year.

Three Items I'll Never Get Rid Of, No Matter How Ugly They Get:

The only ugly thing in my closet is a chest of drawers. I have had it since I was a child and it has moved to every home I have lived in. It is good quality, just worn down and maybe one day I will refinish it and make it perty again.

Three Items People Wouldn't Expect To Find In My Closet:

1) Decorations from my wedding reception. I want to keep them, but I don't really have any use for them.
2) My baby/early childhood blankey. I keep it in a bag that my grandfather handmade and he used to keep his cash in it.
3) My Santa Claus stash for the kids this Christmas. I have started shopping and all of their gifts are hiding behind my wedding dress. Since I can't even get into the closet without making a lot of noise I'm not too worried about them sneaking in and taking a peek.

Three items that made me go, "Oh Lord, what was I thinking?":

1) I don't really have anything that fits in this category. I am very self conscious about they way clothes look on me and I don't want to see "too hip." I dress on the conservative side so I don't have anything to flashy.
2) I guess those brown heels would fit in here. I know I said that when I got home and tried them on. exact examples right now.
3) I've got nothing....

"Three things that I have a surprising number of:"
1) Sweaters
2) Pictures in photo albums of Amber ages newborn-four years (at least 8 BIG albums, maybe more).
3) Gift bags from the large number of gifts we received this month for all of our birthdays.

Three dominant colors in my wardrobe:
1) Black
2) Purple
3) Green

Three items that never fail to put me in a good mood whenever I wear them:
1) My pink scarf in my hair to pull my hair back off of my face.
2) My cowgirl hat. It reminds me of my trip to Nashville and the first marathon that I walked.
3) I don't wear these, but Amber and Wesley's ultrasound tapes and ultrasound pictures. I am too worried about the heat in the attic to store them upstairs.

Three people I will tag:
1) Gretchen

2) Kara

3) Amber

Monkey See. Monkey Do.

Lately I have noticed Wesley doing a lot of new things. Not the major milestones that everyone brags about like walking and talking, but the little things. The ones that show you how he is really learning from what he see us do around the house or in day to day life.

He loves the cell phone or the home phone. He loves to press the buttons. He knows if you give him a broken one and he will throw it down. He prefers all of my toys over the ones we have purchased for him. I admit to letting him play with the cell phone when I need just a few minutes of quiet from him. It works well at keeping him quiet, but he calls people! He has called my dad on several occasions. He has called him at work and at home. One day I noticed he called my dad, sister, sister-in-law, and our house in just a few moments alone with the phone.

He has also played with the home phone, turned it on and then put it down on the floor and left it running until someone finds it and hangs it up. I am praying he hasn't called China or some place that isn't covered by our regular long distance service.

This week I noticed him finally putting things into containers. Until now he has only dumped things out. He didn't want anything in them at all, even if I put it there. Now he is putting all kinds of things into all kinds of objects. I found the little sponge thing I put on his door to stop it from closing in his dresser drawer. I found the remote, phone, an old toilet paper roll and several toys in the back section of his diaper bag. He has started emptying the clothing from one dresser drawer and placing the same clothes into another drawer.

I don't know why I find these things so interesting, but I found myself just sitting and watching him keep himself busy. He was putting away clothes, making pretend phone calls, stopping to watch CMT for his favorite videos, taking a drink from his cup, he would yell out every now and then his famous "eh?" and then play with a toy.

All of a sudden, I got worried. He is acting like a mommy. I better give him the remote and put Sportscenter on so he can act like a daddy instead!

Listen carefully.....Put down the mouse

Last May we had a mouse in our house. This mouse appeared the same exact week I was at the hospital giving birth to Wesley. It so happened that he needed to spend some time in the NICU and so I wasn't home too much until he was 10 days old. During that time my mom and mother-in-law helped with the older kids. I was spending the entire day at the hospital with him and then coming home for some sobbing, dinner and sleep.

The third day I was home without him my mother-in-law had seen a mouse run through the kitchen, right in front of the cat. She said the cat didn't even move. My daughters thought it would be fun to keep the mouse and they set out cheese on their bedroom floor. The mouse found it and preferred sharp cheese apparently because he only nibbled and left the rest on the floor.

When Wesley finally came home the mouse hadn't been seen for a couple days. I figured it left because we have our food stored pretty well (dachshunds can get into most any container and cabinet and will eat until they explode).

Wesley had been home from the hospital for about a week and this one particular day I noticed the cat acting strangely in the kitchen. She sat there almost all day just staring at the dishwasher. That afternoon I was nursing Wesley back in the bedroom. The kids were due to come home in about an hour. All of a sudden I hear the dogs barking. I figure someone is at the door and will go away. They continue to bark for what seems like an eternity. I decide I better go check and see what the barking is all about. I placed Wesley in the middle of the bed and walked down the hall to the living room. When I got to the living room I found all three dogs barking like crazy at the cat. I told them to be quiet and then she turned around, looked up at me and there it was, the mouse tail was hanging out of her mouth. She had caught it. I ushered the dogs outside (remember dachshunds will eat anything) and got her to drop the mouse in the floor. She put it down and tried to bat at it a bit with her paw. It didn't move and she looked very disappointed. I guess she just wanted to play with it and accidentally sufficated it instead.

I decided that I would separate her from the mouse because I didn't know where she would take it and hide it. That is something I wouldn't want to find in the laundry hamper or the litter box. Tony called home and I told him that the mouse was dead, but I couldn't get rid of it. He laughed at me (Mr. I don't touch spiders) and said to have one of the kids get it up. EWWWW!

The bus arrived on time, thank goodness, and I asked the neighbor's kid to come in our house and remove the mouse. He was thrilled to take care of it for me since he loves snakes, mice, and anything else you can find in the neighborhood ditch, swamp or lake.

Move over Hard Place, Rock is poking me in the back

The last few days have been pure hell with the competition in my house. Amber seems to get the worst of it since she has it coming from an older sibling and a younger sibling. Kelsey has always wanted what Amber has, attention from both parents, parents in the same town, long blond hair, more friends, etc. Kelsey struggles with friendships, and honestly I think it is because she probably doesn't come across friendly all the time. She can be quite bossy and has been since I met her at age five. Justin has a huge jealousy towards Amber because she is a girl and girls like to play together more than they like to play with their little brothers. It is all about Kelsey for him. He loves his biological sister very much, his stepsister, not so much. He picks at her, pokes at her, and pushes every button the poor girl has until she screams at him to shut-up.

It is hard as a mother to handle this because my first instinct is to protect my young, my Amber. Then I look at the other kids and I am at most times the only parent they have around them. Their mom is not in their lives like she should be and I am it. It is me. Their daddy has been working so much that everything is pretty much on my shoulders. The meals, the baths, the homework, the soccer practices and games, bedtime, wake time, school open house, conferences, etc.

My most recent dilemma is the comparison between what I do for Amber and what I do for Kelsey. Last school year I was the room parent for Amber's class. At the end of the school year Kelsey asked me to be the room parent for her class this year. The way the teachers do it is pretty simple, you fill out a form with your availabilities and then they let you know if you are "The One." I decided that I would fill out the form for Kelsey's class and volunteer, but it was pretty much killing me to not participate in Amber's class so I filled out forms for both of them. Well, Kelsey's teacher this year picked someone, before the forms went out. Now, I don't know if this mother asked maybe on the orientation day or if the teacher asked her....But, Kelsey was pissed. She was even more upset when Amber's teacher chose me to co-parent her class with another mom. She let me know it wasn't fair. I do everything for Amber and nothing for her.

NOTHING???

Boy, that hit a nerve in me that hasn't been hit in a long time. I do nothing for her? She also let me know that "I know you gave birth to her, and all, but it still isn't right." What isn't right. What gives a child the right to tell a parent that they are doing too much for someone. I get really angered by this. It is basically like I have to limit the things I want to do for my own daughter just to please another child. That is what my problem was about parenting her class, but not Amber's class. Amber has one mommy, ME. Kelsey has two mothers. She gets an abundance of alone/quality time from me every time Amber leaves me to spend time with her father. Amber is NEVER home without Kelsey and Justin being here. She never gets time with just me or me and Wesley. I feel that Amber and I are missing out on our relationship because I have to limit the things I do with her.

At bedtime Kelsey watches every move I make with Amber while I tuck her into the bed. Then, she will ask me why I didn't do something for her. It is very frustrating. Sometimes I just want to say "Because I didn't feel like it." I never do because that would be hurtful, but I do think it sometimes.

This weekend when the kids are away, I will get to buy the stuff for Amber's birthday party goody bags. I know that Kelsey will analyze each and every treat in the thing when she receives one and then ask about hers coming up in February. I feel like it is sad that I have to grab on to such a thing to make special for her. Her birthday is the only time of year that I get to do something special just for her without getting questions about my actions.

The blog with no name

I started this blog with no name yesterday and didn't finish because I was tired and it was late. Today I woke up feeling different about what I blogged about and so this is my new blog with no name.

Yesterday, I was feeling very run down, almost to the end of my rope. I was really hanging on by a thread. The kids were running all over me, ignoring my instructions, dropping their stuff all over the house and then stepping over it to leave the rooms instead of picking up after themselves. Tony is working too many hours for us to have a good family life right now and I truly hate his employer for this. He is working different shifts and 10-12 hours each day, 6 days a week. The kids see him for about 1 hour a day and that just isn't enough time for kids to spend with their daddy.

Today, while I was walking down the road at my favorite speed, just fast enough to feel my quad stretch and burn a little, the wind was blowing in my face and I thought about my day yesterday. I got a chance to reflect on all of my feelings while I listened to the radio and watched Wesley kick his feet. Occasionally, he would turn around, smile, mumble his special 'words' and then turn back around and kick his feet some more. In my reflecting I realized that I have a super life. We are healthy, have enough money to live on and get a chance to go out now and then, we both have jobs and I actually love mine, we have children that will maybe one day appreciate all that we do for them, two very sweet dogs and we have a great safe place to live. I have a great neighborhood to walk in with wide streets, trees to look at, landscaped yards, etc.

I started to wonder what life was like for my grandmother when she was my age. She had four children, two boys and a two girls just like me, only her boys were older than her girls. She took care of her family while my grandfather worked several jobs to make ends meet. They didn't have nearly as many things as we have that make life easier to live. How did she do it? Not only did she do it, but she did it in such a way that all of her children grew up loving their parents and they love each other deeply, the connection is profound. This love was most evident when my grandfather passed away 4 years ago. He had been sick on and off for most of the year and finally he went home, to heaven and now he is our angel watching over us. I have never in my life felt such pain.

During the time of his funeral and the first few days afterwards I saw how my uncles and aunt and mom were united. There was no bickering over how things should be handled. No one was angry with anyone about anything. It was so easy for them, they wanted what was best for Grandma and that was it. I have heard so many times how people argue after someone dies, over the material things. We didn't do that, not one of us. That is amazing. The love that we all had for each other was enough to get us through the hard times. Of course, Grandma went through some depression, like anyone would after losing their spouse of 53 years.

A few weeks after his passing my Grandma asked me if there was anything I wanted of his to keep. Well, he had this bag that he made and he kept cash money in it under the bed. I told her that I wanted his empty bag. She laughed and said "I'm glad you said empty!" All I wanted was the bag. I can visualize him opening that bag and handling it.

The day he left us here was the saddest, most emotional day of my life. Some emotions and feelings sort of fade over time, but I can think back to the exact moment I walked to the hospital room, looked at my uncle and then I was on autopilot or something my heart broke because I hadn't made it in time. We (my mom, dad, sister and I) were the only ones not there. Why didn't he wait for us? I ask this question to myself and then wonder if maybe we needed an angel that day sooner than he could wait to leave us. Maybe while we were driving in the rain that day we needed him to watch over us instead of waiting on us.


That same night we watched this video from way back, probably a good decade earlier, if not longer. We laughed so hard at this video that we had tears streaming down our faces. Then someone else came in the house and so we hit rewind and watched it again, laughing just as hard the next time.

When my mom, uncles and aunt all get together there is tons of laughter, I think that is my favorite part. I have one uncle that doesn't live in the area so when he goes to visit it is so exciting. We make plans about food, games, what we will do while he is here. Once he arrives it doesn't seem like he has been gone. Everyone is on the same page, regardless of the fact that they all lead entirely different lives. They all have very different professions, they are all more than 4 years apart in age, but it works. There is no animosity towards anyone. They don't try to show each other up. There isn't any competition.

How did they do it? How did they raise four children in such a way that they love each other this way. I have asked and my grandma just tells me that my mom is doing it too. Then, I thing of my sisters and I know that if she's right, my mom has done it. There really isn't anything I wouldn't do for my sisters. There is a special closeness between us. We lead different lives, have different professions and even want different things out of life, but we work, we fit, we love each other completely.

Being the oldest I have the most memories, so far. I have memories of going to the beach when I was six and Amy was two. She had this dark tan and her hair was dark brown. She had this gap between her front teeth and she sucked her thumb. I remember the day that Cortney was born. She had this dark black hair and teeny tiny nose and mouth. I remember when they turned 16, when Cortney had her "first kiss" and when they graduated. I remember sitting at Cortney's graduation and feeling so completely proud to be her sister. In a few weeks, I will be standing in Amy's wedding, again, being so completely proud to be her sister.

I hope one day, my children will look at each other and be completely proud to be in the same family. I hope they will love each other completely. I hope they will stop competing for the top dog position because they are all special in their own way. They are all different and there is no comparison. Kelsey is creative. Amber is brilliant and intuitive. Justin is comedic. Wesley is still learning, but I think he is going to be my sit back and check out the world and see who I can fool child.

I don't know if I am doing it right as they are growing now, but I hope that I am. I hope I can do it too and show my children how to do it so that we will have a continuous chain of family love.

The New School Year Of Teachers

Each year around the middle of August we wait impatiently for the mail to arrive. The kids are waiting to see which teacher was given to them for the upcoming school year. They have already decided which teacher they want to have, but will they actually get that teacher? Nope!

This past summer, June 16th, the last day of school came and went. The girls were telling me who they wanted for the next year. I don't even remember the names that were floating through the air, but they were adamant about not wanting certain ones because of the homework load, or because they talk too loud. After a couple days they forget about the teachers they want and start enjoying their time off of school. As soon as July comes to an end they begin talking again about the teachers. "I hope I get...." "I don't want......" It goes on and on every day.

Well, the mail arrives the last week of August, I think they mail them as late as possible so they don't get bombarded by phone calls for classroom changes or something. This year I checked the mail pretty much knowing the envelopes would be in the mailbox and they were there looking right at me. I took them inside and sat down in the living room with my stack of bills and three envelops holding their future in my hands. Amber is about to jump out of her skin, Justin wants to know how many chances he has to misbehave and Kelsey is trying to pretend like she doesn't care, but I know the truth.

I open Amber's envelop, Mrs. Cancel. "Who? Is she new?" I begin my detective work in my brain. Maybe she is the young pretty teacher I saw last year on award day that didn't have on a wedding band, just an engagement ring. Maybe she got married. Amber thinks that over a bit and says, maybe. That wasn't the teacher she wanted, but that would do, for now.

I open Kelsey's envelop, Mrs. Albertson. "Who? I don't know who that is. Can I see last year's yearbook?"

I open Justin's envelop, Mrs. Hampton. Who? We decided that maybe she was a new because there was a 2nd grade teacher that retired last year. This must be her replacement since it is the same classroom as the retired teacher from last year.

Friday is the meet your teacher day. There is an hour during the day that we can go and say hi and see where the classroom is and find their desks, etc. We arrived right at 12:45 and went to Kelsey's room first. She went last the previous year, and they remember this somehow. They can't remember to brush their icky teeth after breakfast EVERYDAY but they remember who saw their teacher last a whole year ago? Whatever.

Kelsey's class is upstairs. We use the steps for exercise and see her bubbly, hip dressed, cool hairdo wearing teacher. She is bright, sunny, smiling and seems very happy to be a teacher. This is great. Kelsey needs someone who talks loud because she is easily distracted. She is very intelligent and needs her attention to be gripped and yanked and hopefully this teacher will not be annoyed by the fact that she eats her pencil erasers and plays with odd things in her desk. I hope, I hope, I hope.

Next we travel back downstairs Amber's class. Mrs. Cancel, is actually Miss Belcher. Mom was right (like always) and she was the one who apparently got married this summer. She is very young, maybe 22 or 23 and very pretty. She dresses like a college student. She should be in diapers, I think she was just born and she will be teaching my daughter about math, science, reading, grammar, and social studies. I actually hit it off very well with her teacher. She is very nice and I think Amber was placed perfectly into her class. Amber is my least difficult with school. She is smart, but doesn't get bored easily and if she is bored, you can't tell, she just smiles a lot.

Justin's class is directly across the hall from Amber's classroom. His teacher is very quiet and actually she just moved down from 5th grade. I let her know that he can be a clown and will randomly fall from his chair for no apparent reason other than to make someone laugh. I told her he means no harm in this he just loves to see people laugh. Even if they aren't laughing at him, he just loves laughter. She says she understands ( I hope she means it). She says she has a 7-year-old son, too.

Last year Justin had a hard time in class. His teacher rarely took the class outside. Children, especially boys, need to have recess. She didn't give them recess nearly enough and I think his esteem was damaged by this woman. He constantly brought home sad notes. He is very sensitive to disappointing his parents. He doesn't like for us to be upset with him. I tried to meet with the teacher, to see what he was actually doing besides "playing and talking in class." I would ask him what happened before the note and he would say nothing happened. She gave the note at the end of the day. What? How is he supposed to know what he did at 10:30 that was wrong when the note wasn't given to him until 2 p.m.? I tried to have her call me. I had no contact at all with this teacher. I told her that I could come anytime to meet her between 7:30 a.m. and 2 p.m. She would ask me to come at 2:30 p.m. Ummm, hello? I have four children and three of them get off the bus at 2:30 p.m. Should I bring them all with me? Now, after speaking with some other parents, figured she knew that he really wasn't doing anything that wrong. He had notes sent home when the little girl he was talking with had no notes sent home. How can that be right?

Tonight was open house for Justin. I met his teacher again. She went over her classroom rules and as I listened to her talk I could tell that he will do just fine in her class. I swear I could have hugged this lady for saying that she knows children aren't perfect. Some days will be days that they need a little guidance. She doesn't expect them to behave all of the time. As his teacher, Mrs. Hampton, was talking tonight I got the feeling from her that she loves teaching these children. She wants them to do well and she will be a great asset to my son and his learning. Tomorrow night I get to see the girl's teachers. I have a feeling this will be a good year. I think they will all enjoy school this year, maybe Justin will even decide he likes to read. Now I just have to figure out how to be classroom mom for both girls.

Thankful

The other night I was flipping through an old photo album to see my pictures from New Orleans back in 2002. I traveled there with the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society's Team In Training to participate in the Mardi Gras marathon. I found my pictures, I noticed how cloudy the day was that I arrived, how nice the Super Dome looked compared to the mess it appears to be now and of course I did check out how chunky I looked in this black sweater that I was wearing. I know that is a petty thought, I mean, did anyone really care that I felt that I looked chunky? Probably not.

I showed Tony my pictures and told him I wondered what the little store looked like now where I bought Justin a little red car, or the shop where I bought Amber and Kelsey their little paper flower head pieces. Those shops are probably a mess too, I guess. Since I don't know that area too well I'm not really sure what was flooded and what was left dry. I did notice on the news the other day that the McDonalds where my mom and grandmother ate lunch during my race had several feet of water in front of it. It seems so unreal to know that I walked on that street that is now covered with water; water full of germs, feces, urine, bodies, just awful things. Things you never imaging seeing.

We finished looking through the pictures of my marathon and the next page had our children, the older ones. They were so LITTLE. Justin had the fattest cheeks. Kelsey's hair was short from her attempt at cutting her own hair. Amber really didn't look that different, she hasn't changed so much in her face, just height. She is still my million dollar smile girl. Those eyes just light up when she smiles.

I found this one picture of her out in the snow. She was playing with the dogs and trying to catch snow flakes on her tongue. It is so precious. I think I could sit and just stare at pictures of her for hours and I actually have enough pictures of her to fill hours.

I guess as I was looking at the pictures I realized that the time goes by so quickly. I mean, really there are 365 days in a year, but how much of that time do you actually spend being thankful for all that you have in your life? I know that several days have passed in my life that I have not thought one time about my blessings. Those aren't days of the recent past, but days of my childhood, teenage years and definitely my early adult life. At this time, I can't really remember a day that I haven't at least one time thought about how thankful I am to have something in my life. Each day it is something different that happens and makes me think about what we have here.

Most times I am thankful for my family. I really could care less about our house, cars, TVs, clothes, etc. They are all nice, but really without my family these things are worth nothing. If we ever had to leave our home for an evacuation or anything else, the only nonbreathing thing I really think I would have to grab on the way out are my pictures. Those are my memories of my family. I cannot even begin to know how many pictures I have in my house, now thankfully mostly digital. I can look at a picture and remember the day I took it. I don't know what it is about my memory, but it is almost like I can hit rewind and remember what we were doing. Kind of like when you hear a song and it takes you back to a different time or place.



Today, I am thankful for my family like always. But it's Tony's birthday and today I am most thankful for his mom, Joyce. She carried him, nurtured him, taught him, raised him and loved him. She is the reason he is here to love me and our children.

The Secrets Men Keep....

from each other!

This week Tony is working the night shift at work. His Fantasy Football Draft was scheduled a for Tuesday night. Since he wasn't going to be here he asked if I would mind drafting his players for him. I kind of giggled and said, "I guess." I really thought he would find someone else to do it, but he didn't. He let his friend know that I would be the one picking his players for him and his friend said he would give me a hard time in the chat room. Whatever, I have quicker wit and better typing skills than any of those little men.

Tony made his little instruction sheet for me. There aren't that many instructions, just pick 2RBs, 2 WR, 1 QB, 1 TE and then pick whatever. I say I need to know what players he wants. He says, whoever is ranked best at the time your turn comes up, except, this one guy he wanted as a TE. I forget the guys name now, but he is a rookie and he figured nobody would pick him right away. He also wanted me to get a good QB if they all start to disappear early and then I could go back and get the RBs and WRs.

Fast forward to 8 p.m., I have to try and log in now while Wesley is screaming because ESPN has trouble with their servers. What? Doesn't ESPN have a zillion channels and Disney as an owner. Shouldn't they have the best servers ever made? They don't, the site stinks, I got in right away, but several times during the draft my connection was weak and the draft was paused innumerable times.

I began picking his players and decided I was not going to talk to these men because they all have really silly names like Poo Flickers and Krispy Kream Skank, some stupid stuff like that. They are all related to either urine or feces or boogers, you know, typical immature guy stuff. Well, except for my husband. His is just so original, I was completely ashamed of the name he created. My husband is the absolute white man, white, white, white. His team name is "Pimpin' Ain't Easy" and I almost died. There was no way I was going to talk under that name. I asked told him I would prefer something related to vomit, but I wasn't allowed to change his team name.

After about 8 picks I decided I would call him because the main player slots were full and now it was time for the extras. He was on the phone with me for the rest of the drafting time and picked the second half of all of the players. The draft ended, some guy mentioned that is f'ing wife called, which did prompt me to post and ask; "What is a f'ing wife?" Nobody answered. (By the way, he didn't actually put in the apostrophe, I added it because it bothered me to type it the other way.)

The next morning Tony said he spoke with his friend, J, after the draft was over. J said (this is no lie and hilarious) "The entire first half of the draft she was picking really well, but then she started drafting all of these strange picks." So, Tony says, "Hmmm, I don't know, I will have to see when I get home." What? HE picked the entire second half of the draft. Then, J says, "She also picked Trent Green, like 4th or something instead of getting another running back." Tony tells him that I picked that guy because I think he is cute. That statement is only half true, the cute half. I was following directions! I guess now I am known as the flightly wife that knows nothing about football. It makes me laugh that he forgot to mention that he was the one giving the orders.

I wonder what else men don't tell each other. Probably a lot, they aren't quite as revealing as women seem to be with each other. I guess, though, once you have given birth and had the entire hospital staff up your behind or had your entire abdomen pulled out and then replaced with 18 people watching, there really isn't anything too private anymore. Since I have had both procedures I am pretty much an open book.

Positive Discipl....Bribery

Discipline....The meaning of this word is to teach, right? There is one part of Positive Discipline that gets me, they say not to take things away. What? How do you not do that?

Apparently, there is positive discipline and there is negative discipline. Personally, I feel that the only positive discipline that works with my children is bribery. Here is a good and common scenario at our house......

The family is eating dinner and Amber continues to jump up from the table to look at the television in the other room. I tell her to sit down and eat with the family, say 10 times, but she continues to bounce up from her seat like there is a spring in her rear end. Do I say....a) If you stay seated you can have dessert; b) If you get up again and look at the TV I am going to take away dessert; or c) Say nothing and just let her continue to be rude to the rest of the family?

Honestly, I know that if I tell her that if she sits down she can have dessert she will sit, but she will pop up again. If I tell her the dessert will be gone, she will sit like her butt has become glued to the seat. But, taking away the dessert is not considered a positive action in the positive discipline scenario.

I guess I feel like, as parents, we are supposed to be preparing our children for the world. We have to get them to a place where they can leave our homes and know how to live on their own. We need to make sure that they are honest, responsible, and independent. We also need to make sure they are prepared for other people in the world. People that don't love them. People who could care less if they have food on their tables to eat at night.

I know from experience that positive discipline is not out their in the working world. I have never had a boss tell me that if I continue to be late for work I will be able to keep my job. I know that if I had been late for work too many times they would have fired me. Don't children need to know that bad things happen when they don't do things the right way?

I truly feel that you should praise your children when they do things in a positive way, cleaning up, having good grades, being polite, brushing their teeth, helping someone, being generous, sharing their toys, etc. I also think they should be scolded, or have consequences for their actions so that they know how to act in life.

It really rubs me the wrong way when I see someone out in a restaurant letting their children run wild and not teaching them how to act in public. I know that when we leave our children with other people, they behave. They know that the Wrath of Mama will terrorize them the next day if they don't act right. I expect things from them that I know they are fully capable of doing. I know they can use good manners and treat others with respect. I know that they are able to clean up behind themselves. They know how to follow directions. Sometimes they may try to get away with something out of the norm, but they are usually pretty quick to jump back in line. I also don't want my children to be looked at like they are heathens when we are out in the public.

We went out to dinner one night, or I should say tried to go out to dinner one night. We had a new restaurant that we wanted to try, it was the weekend before Mother's Day and two of the kids weren't going to be with us on the actual Mother's Day so we were going out a week early.

Anyway, we get to the restaurant and there is a wait, but it was early and we weren't hungry yet so we decided to wait. It was going a 30-minute wait. It was sort of windy outside so we decided to sit in the van until the little buzzer thing went off. Well, the entire time we were in the van the kids would not sit still (except for Wesley, he was still in his car seat and unable to walk anyway). They were changing seats, rocking the van, it looked like we had a party going on from the outside for sure. The two problems with this is that one of them kept landing on Wesley while changing seats and I get car sick, the van was rocking and I was getting ill.

Finally, Tony decided we should get out of the van because they were getting loud and, well the whole ill feeling thing was going on. We walk up to the outside of the restaurant and one child decided to climb up the wall, another is opening the door for the other patrons (very nice idea, but she was on the wrong side of the door) and the other child was trying to climb up the first child climbing the wall. I moved Amber from the door so that the people could get in the restaurant, grabbed Justin off of Kelsey's back and told Kelsey to stop acting like a monkey. We had been up there for 1 minute.

Next, Amber moved to the curb, she was going to balance on it, hopefully. Justin found some rocks to throw and Kelsey was trying to do something I have forgotten by now. We told them, more than ten times to be still. To just wait a few more minutes and we were going to be seated. They couldn't contain themselves. We even explained that if it were just one child jumping, skipping, balancing, climbing and throwing rocks it wouldn't seem quite as busy as four children doing them simultaneously. I told them we would leave it I had to tell them one more time. We found an empty bench to sit on. There was plenty of room for all of us to sit, but the girls decided to spread their legs out and then Justin decided to sit on one of their knees, they screamed and then I said, "Get in the van...now." No yelling, no screaming, from me.

Kelsey calmly walked to the van hanging her head. Amber began her "No Mommy. Why Mommy, please Mommy, I waaaanttt to eeeeeaaaaaaatttttt, please Mommy, don't Mommy, I am hunnnnnnngrrry." Justin stood in the middle of the sidewalk and screamed as loud as he could scream. I carried my quiet son, Wesley, to the van, while grabbing my screaming son from the sidewalk by the elbow, gave him a slight pop on the rear for screaming when we got to the van and we left. They had oatmeal for dinner and Tony and I had sandwiches.

My reaction was probably all wrong according to the discipline counsel of yadayadayada. But, I know something for sure, the next time we went to dinner those were the quietest, most well behaved, cute little kids I have ever seen. They were pleased to be eating out of the house, since we don't get to many times. They understand that eating out as a family is a treat and they should act accordingly. We want to have fun at dinner, have good conversation and laugh. That is fun to us.

I know it probably seems that I am the one doing most of the talking when the kids are acting up. I believe that has to do with the way my husband and I were raised. I have turned into my parents and now, 15 years after the fact, I am grateful for the energy they mustered up to teach me. My children question my rules at times and I have to tell them the same thing my mom told me, some parents take the easy way. It is easy to let your kids play outside and tell them to be home at a certain time. It takes more energy to actually make sure they are doing what they are supposed to be doing. I know that I make a lot of things harder on myself than some parents would, but I want to make sure my kids are safe, unharmed, never kidnapped, without broken limbs and I want to make sure I can hear them cry when they happen to fall down and scrape their knees.

Running on empty

Some days I feel like I am running on empty. I wake up before the roosters out in the country so I can work without interruptions. This is something I discovered about 10 months ago when Wesley informed me with his loud screaching that I was without a doubt never going to be able to work while he is awake. So, I get up early, stumble to the computer and turn on the bright screen and begin working in the dark while Tony continues to sleep. I usually get in 2-3 hours of productive work once I am finished reading the BBC threads on the front page and checking my emails. This works out pretty well and if I could get Wesley to consistently sleep until 8 a.m. for the rest of his life he would never even know that I have a job.

I feel pretty good when I wake up, not completely rested, but good enough to go through the day. Once he wakes up I let the dogs outside and fix breakfast for everyone. I think I would have very boring days if I didn't have all of the children that I have, but sometimes I just wish they didn't ask so many questions. That is what exhausts me.

I will tell them, that we are going to be leaving at 10 a.m. Everyone needs to be dressed and brushed (teeth and hair) with shoes on by that time so we can leave and get back in time for lunch and Wesley's nap. His nap is the most important part because we don't need any screaming going on. Before I can finish my instructions, one has already asked where we are going. Another asked what we are buying; to which I answer, sorry no candy today. She pouts and goes about her way. On the way to the van they want to know how many places we are going. Didn't I already answer that? Weren't they all standing there when I said we are going to the bank?

So, we go to the bank, I drop our van payment into the tube machine and pull away. We head out to the interstate and are stopped by the draw bridge being open. This doesn't happen too much on this particular part of interstate. There must be something really large going through because this is actually a high rise bridge. We sit for about 15 minutes. Wesley has started to fuss because he cannot see any more wheels turning on cars. Then a daughter says, "Why are we just sitting here?" "The bridge is open."

Another daughter who is sitting right behind the other asks the exact same question. So I politely tell her that we are sitting there because all of the cars got together and decided to park on the interstate and see how long it would take for one of the children to ask why we are sitting there. Almost immediately after that the cars start to roll. Either she understood my sarcasm, realized that I had already answered the question or believed me because she didn't say anything else. She just nodded her head.

We made a stop by the Old Navy for some jeans since they were having a sale. We shopped for a few minutes and for the third time, I explain to each child that we are only buying things that are on sale. Also, if it isn't on sale today, it will be on sale another day and then maybe we can get it. We go to the check out and they are all huddling around the little keychains, sunglasses, and teeny tiny note pads that clutter up my house. "Can we get one?" "No, I said we aren't buying any thing that isn't on sale." "But it is only $3." "Well, when it is $2 then we will buy it." We check out and leave the store.

On the way to the van on child asks, "Are we going home now?" "No, we have to go to the bank." "We already went to the bank." "I know, but we have to go to the other bank." "Oh, okay, why?" "To make a deposit." "What is a deposit?" "Put the money in the bank." "OK."

No kidding, 90 seconds later another child asks "Where are we going?" "To the bank" "We already went to the bank." "I know, but we have to go to another bank." "Why?" The first child answers for me (thank goodness) "To make a deposit." "OK"

We get to the bank and we are waiting in line. The third child asks "Why are we at another bank?" The two other children in unison answer (thank the LORD because I was about to pull every single piece of hair out of my head) "To make a deposit." "Oh, what is a deposit?" I answer "Putting the money in the bank." "Why do you want to put the money in?" "I don't want to put the money in, but I have to so I can pay the bills with checks." "Why do we have for bill?" "Because I have children, that is why I have to bills." The car goes silent. Does he think he is a bill?

We pull out of the drive-thru finally and I decide I would rather not answer anymore questions. I turn the radio up and begin to sing and then they realize that I cannot hear them and they actually talk to each other.

By the time dinnertime comes in the day I bet I have had at least 10 of the same conversations with three different people. I guess if they weren't in the room together when these conversations occur I wouldn't think anything about it, but they are right there. Don't they hear us talking? It is very exhausting.

When Tony is home from work some days he doesn't understand why I am tired. Well, that is because the kids don't ask him any questions. They come to me for everything. Even when he is sitting in the room with one of them they will leave the room and come ask me.

By 10 p.m. I am so tired that usually my brain is no longer functioning. The only energy I have left is to push the button on the TiVo and escape into something we have on season pass.

People wonder why I am in no hurry for Wesley to talk, at least, talk in sentences.

You Had Me From Hello

Last night we had a date, my hubby and me. We went to see the creator of our song, "You Had Me From Hello." That is the song we danced to at our wedding.

Considering that we met on a country music radio station dateline the title of the song is perfect. I think that even though we have seen Kenny Chesney 3 times in concert together we wouldn't be able to skip any shows he brings to our area, just to maybe get the chance to hear him sing it live. He never has, not for us at least. Maybe I should write him a letter and see if he would mind, maybe, singing just a tidbit of that song the next time he comes to Virginia Beach. It really is the least he could do the dang theater sells out every time he comes, even when we have a hurricane every one comes to see him. It is amazing.

The evening had a rocky start and I was beginning to dread the entire idea of even going to the show. Wesley was having a fit because he has figured out that I will actually leave him for longer than 3 minutes. He loves my mom to death, but apparently I am better. (This is new for me since Amber would choose her any day over me.) My sister-in-law was stuck in some serious traffic and I really don't like being late. I wanted to see the whole show, all of the acts.

Well, we leave our screaming son behind, and things started to get better as we got cash from the machine across the street his sister called and she was only about a block away. She actually passed us on the road and we were able to park right next to each other. Well, stupid me jumped out of the car to fix my shorts and get my shoes on (I don't drive wearing them) and Dayna closed the door and Tony locked it on the other side. Guess where the keys were, in the ignition. Guess what the car was doing...RUNNING!!!

UGH! I was so ticked off. I, of course, blame Tony. He is always the easiest target and takes it pretty well. I explained to him that we use the key bleeper thing to lock the doors and I don't understand why he used the other thing. It was all his fault!!!! Next, I embarrassingly call my dad and tell him that I locked the keys in HIS van with it running. Thank Heaven he lives 1 mile away and comes to bring the key. Well, the traffic is stopped because our lot is full. Now how is he going to get to us? I decide that since I am such a pretty fast walker I will meet him. I walked at least 1/2 mile one way to his car, get the key, walk back to the van, unlock it, turn it off, I take one set of keys in my pocket and Tony gets the other set. Now we should be covered if we lose set. By this time I am sweating buckets and probably stink because it is 90+ degrees outside still and it is 7:30 p.m. Dang summertime weather.

We get to our seats a few minutes before the second act begins, but we realized that was alright since we could hear the first act and after 30 minutes he was doing covers. No thanks, I like to hear original music if I may $75 a ticket. Gretchen Wilson put on a pretty good show. My only complaint is that the stage presentation was sort of boring. She showed a sweet video of her daughter growing up, I began to cry, I missed my screaming little boy so much and it was almost time for him to be going to bed. Gretchen finished up, I was starving and realized I had forgotten to eat dinner. Is that even possible? I haven't forgotten to eat in at least 10 years.

Kenny started with a bang. This particular concert was his best in my opinion. He just seemed different, almost electric. The stage was well lit and bright with silver and lights. He brought out his old blue chair and somehow managed to sit down in those tight jeans. I seem to be different from most of the girls at the concert though because I personally don't care for the tight jeans. I really just like his music. Well, the hat is kind of hot, but not the jeans. I think I have seen a picture of him in some loose fitting linen pants. I like that much better.

Tony and I didn't get to hear our song though. I was pretty bummed by that, but the night ended up being very enjoyable. I just wonder how much we will have to pay next year. We had pretty good seats this year, hopefully next year we can get closer. Hopefully next year he will play our song.

Sweet Child of Mine

Two years ago today.... The little sperm met the egg. We had decided we wanted to have a baby so we did. That is pretty much how it went.

I was on the pill, I had been dying to have another child since Amber was born and Tony was completely freaked out. We went off the pill and got pregnant immediately. I do give most of the applause to Taking Charge of Your Fertility. That book is definitely a good read if you want to have a baby. I am a little unsure about the prevention part, but the conception part is for real.

Between the temperature taking and the checking of the cervix I was pooped by the end of my first cycle and completely happy to have made it happen the first time around. I am not real big on the idea of sex on demand. I like for things to be more natural than that. I didn't really care for the idea of saying, "Hey honey, we gotta do it again tonight for the 9th night in a row, just in case. As soon as my temperature is up for 3 days we can take a break."

The pregnancy this time around was more difficult, I was more tired, had major food aversions in the beginning, some nausea and awful backaches from about 20 weeks. But, there is absolutely nothing better than feeling that baby move from the inside. Knowing that you don't have to share them yet. They are all yours. I have felt completely in sync with Wesley from the moment I met him at 10 weeks gestation. I had an ultrasound and there was his big head and little body. He wasn't moving, I guess we were boring. Of course at that point I knew he was going to be a girl. I was going to have another girl. Amber had to have a little sister. She didn't want a little brother because the one she already had gets on her nerves and is mean to her.

Well, the 20 week ultrasound told a whole other story, boy oh boy was he a boy. He let us see it all. He gets that from his Daddy because his Mommy is much more modest. We invited our moms to the ultrasound and considering that they had never seen one "live" they were in awe. They didn't know we were going to reveal the sex of the baby so they had a nice surprise. I could actually tell what the baby was before she told us and I had a bit of a heart sinking feeling going on. I had the perfect name picked out and had gotten approval from Tony, Chloe Renee. She was going to be so cute with light brown hair and brown eyes. She was going to be athletic like her Daddy and limber like her Mommy. She would play soccer like her aunt and sister and do gymnastics like her other sister.

My husband on the other hand, knew the baby was a boy, actually hoped the baby was a boy. He wanted to even out the teams in the house. Another girl would throw the whole equation off balance. He was ecstatic about the news and I thought he might even hug the ultrasound technician, but he contained himself.

It didn't take me too long to get used to the idea of having a boy. Amber was devastated. She actually cried about the news. I explained to her that her baby brother would love her like no other brother in the world. She cheered up and got over it.

Late in my pregnancy they decided to do another ultrasound. Amber was a 10 pound baby and they wanted to make sure I didn't pass my due date if he was just as large as she had been. Well, he was just as large and then some (38 weeks u/s weight 10 lb 10 oz), plus he was breech. C-section, here we come.

The only part of the C-section I was upset about was the entire thing. I am a bit paranoid for some reason that I will die unexpectedly and not be around to raise my children and watch my grandchildren be married. Yes, I want to live to be very old. I don't want to miss a thing.

My surgery was scheduled for 5 days later and I was excited, but worried. I know several women have the procedure, but what if something went wrong? Nothing went wrong with my surgery, in fact I felt pretty good afterwards once I got passed the nausea from my morphine.

But, my sweet boy was suffering from TTN and had to spend some time in the NICU. Boy did he look funny in there with his big 10 lb 14 oz body next to those 3 lb babies. The nurses were sore when they left a shift after taking care of him. I was allowed to stay in the hospital for two additional nights for free, but then I had to go home and leave him.

I have never done anything so heartbreaking in my life. I can still see the look on his face when I was leaving him in that little bassinet. I felt like I was in a tunnel. The outside world was moving, but I was in a different place. I never, ever thought I would have to leave him for one second, much less over night and 30 minutes away. I sobbed, changed my mind 10 times thinking I could sleep on the couch in the waiting room. Tony said for me to basically get my butt in the car because the baby will be sleeping anyway. He packed up all of my stuff and pushed me out the door of the hospital. I came home, saw my dogs (who thought I looked strange being smaller in the tummy area), took a shower and then called the hospital. I went to sleep and 3 hours later I woke up, pumped and I called the hospital. I went back to sleep, slept for 3 hours and then woke up, pumped and called the hospital. Then we left and went back to the hospital. By the time I got there he was ready to eat and I was ready to feed him. My milk had finally come in.

He was finally released from the hospital on May 5. If he had been born on his due date this would have been the day we would have gone home. I guess he didn't want to be born a week early.

My son is the most precious, sweet, snuggly boy I have ever had the pleasuring of seeing in my life. He is a true blessing. I am so completely in love with him and look forward to every morning that he wakes me up and I see him smiling at me behind his binky.

The Extra Mama

Nearly four years ago I had the honor of meeting Kelsey, Tony's daughter. I also met his son, but this blog is about Kelsey. The first night we met she was excited and very welcoming. She was happy to show me around their house and walked me into each room. She grabbed my hand and acted like she had known me her whole life. A couple weeks later I was ready to introduce Amber to them. The girls hit it off instantly and cried when they had to leave each other for the night. It was all very sweet.

A few short months later, Tony and I decided to get married. We really couldn't stand being apart from each other and were so completely exhausted running between each other's homes every night after work and then driving back home late at night. The kids thought it would be super. They would have time to play together all the time and would never have to leave, except for every other weekend.

We married about 3 months after that and then the cookie began to crumble. Kelsey became emotional, argumentative, and down right unbearable at times. She had a jealousy towards Amber because she was able to see her dad (who lives 20 minutes away) more than Kelsey was seeing her mother (who lives 2 hours away). Amber visits her dad once during the week and every Friday night. Some weekends she stays through until Sunday. Kelsey only sees her mom every other weekend, nothing extra. I didn't realize at first she was comparing her visitations between the other parents, I thought she just didn't really like me and was blaming me for her world changing.

After about a year, I finally realized that she would get extremely emotional if she hadn't heard from her mom for more than a couple of days. It finally clicked and I mentioned it to Tony. Well, of course he goes nutso on his ex-wife and that didn't accomplish a thing. There really isn't any sort of good communication between them. I decided that I was going to speak with her, mom-to-mom. It helped, she calls mostly every night and checks in with them to see how they are doing and see about their day at school. She still doesn't live any closer. This really bothers Kelsey.

She has told me on several occasions that she wishes her parents were still together. She would rather have them together and miserable than apart and happy because she doesn't like having to split her time between the two of them. Now, I know the child loves me, and probably admires me more than her biological mother, but the first time she told me she wanted them back together I was extremely insulted.

We have really struggled with our relationship and her growing up and maturing, turning into a young lady is helping us quite a bit. She is a delightful girl, very creative and inventive (to a fault at times), loving and tries to be extremely helpful. She is also very independent, knows what she thinks, believes it, owns it and needs to be convinced she is wrong or she will not believe you. These traits remind me, of me.

There are several times during a week or sometimes a day that I will hear her say something or see her do something that reminds me of myself as a child. I find that to be crazy, I mean, I didn't MAKE her, so why is she like me? She is almost identical to her daddy, except for the important girl parts. If you see her with Tony's sister, Dayna without make up, they look like mother and daughter. She is like a little clone. I know this physical traits make it easier for me to love her since when I look at her I can see my husband.

She has come a long way from that mean little six-year-old. She is thankful for meals, snacks and even the new brush I bought her the other day. She doesn't yell at me anymore and tell me I ruined her entire summer. She even lets the other kids know that they will get used to me. What does that mean? Am I that bad? Amber sort of looks at her like, OK??? Get used to my mommy? haha! That's funny. She even told Tony this the other day. He was being loud and slamming cabinets in the kitchen while Wesley was napping. I asked him to quiet down and he knew I was kidding, but she didn't so she let him know that he could get used to it. haha!

Kelsey does have a nice mom, but we are very different. She is less organized, less attentive to details like wearing sunscreen and making sure the kids have enough water when they are out on a hot day to avoid heat exhaustion. Yes, this has happened. She is late every single time she has to pick them up or bring them home and she doesn't call. But mostly, she lives too far away from her children. That I don't understand. All of her other "issues" are easily explained, except the latter. I mean, what mother doesn't want to see her children each day as they grow? Does she realize what she is missing? Maybe not.

Kelsey struggles with this. She asks me why I don't let Amber live with her dad. How do you answer that without making the other parent look bad? I already know, extremely carefully. I really hate having to make excuses for a person that I don't love. When you love someone it is so much easier to find reasons for what they are doing wrong.

Finally, after more emotional episodes, I finally had to tell her that she needs to stop paying attention to the negative in her life and focus on the positive. She has a nice home, with a sister and two brothers. She has a dad that did everything he could to ensure that he was with her each and every day of her childhood. He wanted to watch her grow, he wanted to be there for her and he made it happen. Nothing was going to stop him from accomplishing that task. He wanted to raise his kids. She has dogs and friends, a nice school, and of course, she has me, her Tonya. She is the only person in the house that calls me Tonya. Amber and Justin call me mommy, Tony calls me Foxy and Wesley doesn't call me anything.

As time has gone by, I realize that Tony and Kelsey were always meant to be mine, but they just took a wrong turn before they found me. They both needed me to come along and take care of them. He was trying so hard to make everything happen and keep the kids happy that he wasn't happy. Kelsey was struggling with the fact that she only had 1/4 of a mom. I wonder why, why a child is born to one parent only to be raised by another person, not their biological parent, but a parent nonetheless.

I know that I am a better parent than her mom could ever be because I come last. My husband, my children, my dogs and my house come first. I get whatever happens to be left over. Sometimes it isn't much and other times it is 45 minutes of a walk and a 15 minute shower.

Since Amber was a small girl I would go into one of her new coloring books and color a picture for her and then sign it. She always would smile at the surprise of seeing it. When she started to write and had notebooks I started making notes for her to find by surprise. Last week, for the first time, I did this for Kelsey. I don't think she has found it yet, but I am sure she will let me know when she does happen to see it. The only trouble I had was signing it... For Amber I just sign it, Love, Mommy. For Kelsey, I had a hard time. I know my name, but it didn't feel right. I wrote "Love, Tonya," but tore it out and rewrote the note:

Hello Dear Kelsey,

I hope you have a wonderful day.

Love, Your Extra Mama :)

Born to Fly

My seven-year-old little girl loved this song when she was three. She knew every single word and sang with such expression. I would watch her through the rear view mirror as I drove because if I turned around she would stop singing. That year we traveled by car with my parents and sister to Disney World. She was so excited to be going to see all of the princesses along with Mickey Mouse and Winnie the Pooh. The whole trip she wanted to hear Sara "Nevens" and sing Born to Fly.

When we arrived at Disney that smile of hers was from ear-to-ear. She was flapping her arms and kicking her legs. If she could have burst from the car seat she would have done it. She was interested in riding all of the rides except for the boring ones. They all needed to be fast, spinning and actually quite frightening for a mommy trying to keep her child safe from harm. Lucky for me, she wasn't tall enough for Space Mountain or that Rockin' Roller Coaster, but if she had been she would have rode them both. She loved Splash Mountain and hated It's a Small World. It was a wonderful trip and we really hated to come home because there is no place on Earth more fun than Disney.

This was also the year that she started attending school full time. I had worked at home since she was very young, but I wasn't able to get in all of my work with her just going part time. She was very excited about staying all day long at school with her friend Summer. I would take her in the mornings and pick her up around 4:30 after working and walking. Finally, she was excited to see me come pick her up. I guess she needed to be away from me for more than 3 hours to miss me.

When I play "Born To Fly" or hear it my chance, all I can think about are those little gapping teeth smiling back at me. She has got to have the most intoxicating smile I have ever seen. It is big, bright and just looks happy. Sometimes she will give me that little no tooth smile and it just isn't enough. I need to see those teeth.

Now that she is older her teeth aren't gapping anymore. She has her adult teeth now and that has really aged her, but she is still flying. She is funny, outgoing, loves to sing and dance (even when we watch), and is highly intelligent. If I had known before I had her that I would feel so proud of a seven-year-old I wouldn't have believed myself. When I think about all that she has done and all that I know she is going to do some parts make me sad because it is going to fast. The time is flying.

Name my blog? Ut oh!

I had a very hard time coming up with a title for this blog. As I was thinking of names and seeing that some of them looked really dumb with a .com after them I decided to name my blog after something that is ME. I walk, that is the exercise I can do without feeling like I may die while completing a work out. I have done a few marathons, 2 full and 2 half. I enjoy the half marathon much more than the full, but only because it takes less time and I don't get blisters on my feet. The reason I took up this hobby/sport is because I was an over weight, a single mom, and had no other way to meet people. I received a card in the mail to go on a free trip to Nashville and walk a marathon. The only thing I had to do was raise money for a very good cause, leukemia and lymphoma research.

I really used to love training for the marathon and the gradual build up to the big day. Then the night before, I would be so completely anxious about the next morning I would have trouble sleeping. This hobby of mine had only one bad part, waking up at 4 a.m. on race day. Training wasn't quite as difficult because we would meet around 7 a.m. and walk for a few hours. My first race I met this wonderful lady named Anita. We trained together, did the race together and became friends. She has got to be one of the funniest ladies I have ever met. During training she would have the nuttiest stories to tell and I swear we laughed for 10-15 miles.

During training for my second marathon I met my husband. We began dating just before the trip. We were married just a few months later and my walking pretty much took a back seat to everything else. I really thought I would be able to do it all in the beginning. I figured taking care of two additional children wouldn't cramp my style at all, but I was completely wrong.

My daughter is an easy child. She likes to play alone, or just be nearby, she enjoys watching movies and cartoon shows. I just assumed the other kids would fit the same way and I would be able to get my work in each day while they were in school, get my walk in and them pick them up and bring them home for dinner. It didn't work out quite so well and instead the walking all but stopped and I gained weight instead.

I noticed after about 4 months of only getting in the sporadic walk that my pants were a little snug and well, that was depressing. I would try to get the walks in during afternoon time, but it just never fit in and once the habit is broken it is hard to pick back up again. Why is it that only good habits are hard to pick up again and not the bad habits?

Finally, this past winter I decided it was time for Tonya to come first someplace in the equation and I discovered my walks again. I really had missed them. On these walks it isn't quiet. I listen to the radio and hear the cars passing, but in my mind it is silent. I'm not worried about the laundry or homework or who just changed the channel without asking. I don't have to worry about what is going on anyplace else for those 45-60 minutes, it all about me.

Now, I don't go alone, my sweet boy always tags along, but he is silent and observant. He doesn't make one sound the entire time. He just rides in his stroller and kicks his feet back and forth. I enjoy this quiet time that Wesley and I get together. We are both relaxed and it gives us both a better attitude for the rest of the day. When either of us are grouchy, all I need to do is pop him in the stroller and when we return the world is a better place for everyone around.