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.