Inside the minds..

Kids have this fabulous sense of, well, I guess wonder is the word.

Today, someone dropped off a bag of hand-me-downs for my girls. Now, this bag was not the kind that included skid marked undies, tomato soup stained onsies and hole ridden flood pants. This was the Osh Kosh/Carters/Children'sPlace/Gap bag of hand me downs. So needless to say, some super cute stuff.

Although I DO live in the freezing cold north, apparently my country DID get the summer memo (albeit MUCH later than we were hoping), and it has been GLORIOUSLY in the mid 30's...oh...for you Yankees, that's like 200 F...oh, maybe not...um, hold on...google says that's 95ish. So, hot. And lovely. And hot. And I LOVE it. Moving on.

Much of the new duds in the clothing bag will be PERFECT for my girls...in the winter. Sweaters and ponchos, heavy pants and jackets. This is where the "wonder" sets in. Who the heck cares that it's 'fry an egg on the sidewalk' hot out...new clothes MUST be worn. So I am, in as little clothing as I can get away with, watching my children play in the backyard, by the pool, in a winter jacket and a wool poncho. I asked several times if they were hot, and both replied with a resounding NO, and I was even informed that it's actually quite cold and windy out. (As my popsicle melts the second the freezer door opens.)





Speaking of wonder...do you ever wonder HOW a child can watch the SAME movie or episode of a show a MILLION times and still laugh at the same places and still find it so entertaining, and still have their eyebrows raised in anticipation as they wonder what...oh WHAT will happen next? Like seriously? Lightning McQueen gets Sally the Porsche and they live happily ever after...you KNOW that don't you?! Did you miss that little fact the last billion times you watch it? Oh...NOT that my children watch shows a billion times** Ahem** For, naturally, as the receiver of multiple "Mommy-of-the-year" awards, I am fully aware to only let my child watch an hour a day...er...a week...oh, what? ...a month, I mean. Yes, of course, an hour a month. Don't want their brains to go to mush or their eyeballs to go crossed or their Mommy to get any laundry done...I digress.

What else amazes me is how my 2 year old BOY (I must add that in here because my girls NEVER did this) , could find hours of pleasure in following around random critters on our cement patio in the back. I mean on hands and knees, scraping the baby soft skin right off his precious little shins, with his eyes as big as saucers as he doesn't let them out of his sight. Well, until they crawl into the line of Juniper trees. Then he scowls, sits there wearing an utter look of defeat, and in his best Swiper the Fox voice, says, "Aww Maaaan!" I guess he had about had it the other day when a tiny little unsuspecting ant he was stalking was just about to disappear into the juniper jungle, and instead of letting him go his merry way, he immediately placed his pointer finger right on top of it. He lifted his finger to his face to peer at his prize, and as the little ants legs all squirmed in a futile protest, something came over my little man, and he popped that treasure right into his little mouth. Seeming completely proud of himself, he glanced over his shoulder, looked at me and gave me his best toothy grin. I was far enough away, that I could not tell if that grin included little black legs in between his teeth. Ew. I shudder even now. I am such a girlie girl. Like honestly, what in BLUE BLAZES would make anyone want to put something moving and creepy in their mouth. It is far beyond me.

Children, creatures of wonder. Sometimes it makes you grimace and gag, and other times, it's a great lesson to maybe, yourself, find a little wonder in the everyday world we've become so accustomed to. I don't recommend eating bugs though. Even on Fear Factor. ESPECIALLY on Fear Factor.

NOT ME MONDAY

5 months it's been.

I'm so sure your lives have been so depressing without my insanely wise ramblings. I apologize for your increased counseling bills, the higher than normal chocolate consumption, and any wild and irrational neon hair colors that have resulted from my absence. (Ahem, Julie.)

What better day to come back to the bloggisphere than a NOT ME MONDAY ?
So for your Momma Bex update, I give you 5 months of NMM's that have been piled under my TOTALLY clean carpet...

1) We do not live in the freezing cold north. We do not throw massive parties when the mercury rises above O. And we certainly would not throw our children outside to swim just to get some peace and quiet inside the house...especially if they still needed a cheetah fur coat on to fill the pool...


2) My "baby" is not a total piro, and did not knock over a candle on our dinning room table, only to singe off Queen S's most favorite doll's hair. And he is such a sensitive boy, he definitely did not laugh hysterically at the sight of her prized possession aflame.


3) This is Princess B. Remember her? She's super sweet and caring and gentle and actually quite shy. So there's no way that only seconds after this shot was taken at a local park, she let out a scream that would put any horror film star to shame, and then grabbed this poor unsuspecting boy's ear, stared him down with fury in her eyes and breathed in his face the words, "My wheel. Don't ever touch again."
Never! NOT my kid. Nope.


And now a few point form NMM updates:

My Queen S is not growing up way too fast and certainly did not graduate kindergarten last week. I do not officially have a grade one-er. Sigh.


It appears that Queen S will be the only school aged girl in our family as Princess B will not be going into kindergarten this September. There's no way that she's already that age.


I am NOT old enough to be mother to TWO school aged babes!! I will NOT be turning 30 in less than 3 weeks. I will always be 18. Forever.


My precious baby boy is still a baby. He did not have his 2nd birthday last week, and he is not amazing me every day at how much he has changed and learned in his first 2 years. Not that he IS two. Just saying, uh, if he WAS 2, he'd sure have learned a lot. Yeah.


And lastly,

this is not me.

At 12 weeks pregnant.

With baby #4.

Because we are, ahem, were , done at 3.

My sunshine

I like to think of this blog as kind of a journal. (Uh, one that the whole world is privy to.) I want to be able to look back when I've lost my mind (which could be next week at the rate things are going), and remember the little moments, and the big moments which when all melded together, created my life. (The guy in charge of the slide show at my funeral should have it pretty easy. Just stick this on the screen, and you'll pretty much get the jist.) So, in lieu of sharing moments, it just so happens, today is the anniversary of a very special moment indeed. Let me rewind waaaaaay back into the past, where all things were in black and white and men were always in suits...yes, 6 long years ago. It all began when...(insert austin powers type multi-color tye-dyed spinning swirl here)

**Jan.31, 2004**

Well, here we are. The day we've been counting down to. And it's going to come...and go. I have a feeling baby wants to stay in the tropics a bit longer- which I'd say is pretty smart since we just got 2 feet of snow dumped on us! Although I don't think baby will join us today, there still seems to be something magical about the due date. It still feels a bit like Christmas. Is that strange? Hmm. I am JUST beginning to get better from a 2 week stint of laryngitis & strep throat. I have a little bit of a voice today...finally. It's been SO frustrating! I want to be ALL better when I deliver. Only thing now is I think I made King G sick. Ooops. :( Anyways, baby, I can still feel your feet up in my ribs, and I am SO excited to finally touch them and kiss you. Come and join us! I can't wait any longer! Mommy and Daddy love you SO much!! xoxo

**Feb 3**

...and I wait. wheezing in between the odd clear breath I can get. The mountains outside my window actually look warm, like they are wearing a white velvet blanket, in all that snow. The repetitious sound of our washer and dryer hums a rather soothing note to my soul. The softness of our "right out of the dryer" bedsheets and the fresh smell of fabric softener brings me back to being a well cared for child. Makes me want to stay in bed all afternoon. And then, of course, there's you. My precious miracle who constantly reminds me that you are completely out of room in there, with your not so gentle kicks and squirms. The question of "is today the day"? has long lost it's wonder. As the clock ticks and each second brings you closer to me, it may as well be an eternity today. So, I wait. For 2 hours, 2 days, 2 weeks, who knows? And what does it matter? Soon you will be in my arms, and we will begin to experience a love that is far different than all we've known up till now. I will be a mother...your mother.

**Feb 5**

12 Noon:
I AM GETTING CONTRACTIONS!! My back is SO achy. Is this it? The real deal?Oh please Lord, let this be it!! Time to start timing these, see what we are looking at here! **Lord God, be with me. Give me Your strength. Please please keep baby safe and healthy. Give me, G, doctors, nurses, Jen and Mom wisdom, and may the final stage of this journey be a testimony of your amazing mercy, love and peace to all involved. WELCOME TO THE WORLD PRECIOUS!!**
(Oooo, I wonder I wonder...are you blue or pink????) :):)

**Feb 6**

(My amazing friend Jen (who has been with me in every delivery) writes from here on...I was a little busy. ;))
(warning: the following is a birth story, and if you are a man, you may be disgusted and possibly hurl if you continue on, and if you are a pregnant or hormonal in any way woman, you may bawl your eyeballs out. Please prepare right now accordingly.)

Jen & mom arrived at the hospital around 8am. You have been laboring since noon yesterday and are 2-3 cm dilated. You still look strong and confident. Contractions are every 5 minutes. You just spent 45 mins in the shower and I told you stories (at your request). :) G and mom went to the cafeteria for some breakfast. You are doing amazing! G is now awake and ready to go! Haha. You two are hugging right now...awwww. :) It's just about 10 and you are going to walk around for a bit. In the last 15 mins you have had 4 contractions. You keep saying they are in your bum. :P They are much stronger now and Carol (nurse) just came to put the monitor on to check the heartbeat, she will check how dilated you are shortly.

You just threw up during a contraction. They are suddenly getting really intense. The nurse is coming to examine you. UGH! It's 11 and you are still only 3 cm and contractions seem very painful right now. Nurse is calling Doc. M to ask about giving you some drugs. He said yep! She just gave you some gravol and fentanyl ...they are kicking in ...ahhhhh, better. :)

12 noon and you had a nice little rest and the fentanyl was a GOOD thing. :P

Doc.M will come after lunch to break your water. They have put a drip on to induce your labor - oooooo- the contractions are back and intense. 3-4 mins apart. You got sick again, cause they are so strong. But you are now sitting on a lazy boy chair with a cold cloth on your head.

My guess for when baby comes is 4:19. Daddy G says 2:55. Gramma thinks 5:30. Tick tock, waiting to seee-eeee!!

12:55 and G and I just came back from eating and are hearing the nurses talking about an epidural.

Lord, we pray that you would bring peace and that you would cause the baby and Becky's body to do what it needs to do.

The nurse will examine you at 1:30ish and hopefully you will have dilated. LORD PLEASE!!

It's 2pm and you are in the shower. G is with you. Doc.M is on his way to assess things. Hoping baby is in the right position so we can get this party ON!!

Oh baby...hurry...mama is looking so tired.

Doc.M broke your water at 2:20. "Coolest feeling EVER" so you said. :P haha. Contractions were strong and consistent now. YOU ARE 7-8 CM NOW!!! WOOO HOOOO!

3PM, and you are exhausted. It's been 27 hrs of labor so far. So you said YES to an epi. And it's in...ahhhhhhhh....feeeeeels gooooood.

It's now 3:25 and baby will be here very soon. You have a BIG smile on your face and are singing along to a Christina Aguilera song. Haha. Daddy G and Doc.M are talking MAC COMPUTERS!! HA!!!

Gramma predicts its a boy. Doc.M and I are thinking girl. Daddy G is leaning towards girl, and you are SURE it's a boy...but really have no clue.

5:20 and the epi is wearing down, you are feeling a lot of pain again. Dr. Coz (the epi man) can't come yet...OH!!! You are FULLY DILATED nurse just said!! YAY!!! BECKY YOU ARE DOING IT!!! I am so proud of you!!

You are pushing!

GOOD GIRL BECKY!!!

(Oh, and your mom got her peanuts) <-----I STILL have no idea what that was about. :P

7:10, you look SO tired, but you are doing well.

You are pushing!

AHHHHHHHH!!!!



Born 7:46pm
Feb 6, 2004
8 lbs, 3 oz
19 inches

BECKY YOU WERE AMAAAAAZING!!!!!

WELCOME TO THE WORLD LIL PEANUT!!!! :D

(If you remember Baby L's birth story...yes, this one was a weeeeee bit different. ;))

**Feb 7 am** (the new mommy writing again)

Welcome to the world Queen S! :D
You are SO beautiful! You were born with copper hair!! I can't believe that! I LOVE IT!! There were TEN babies born here last night!! Nurses blame it on the full moon. Riiiiiight. So, needless to say, the maternity ward was loud with crying all night...but not from you. :) You are quiet and peaceful. One nurse told me that out of all 10 babies, you are the only one who picked up breast feeding right away! You smart girl you! You are so amazing. I am absolutely overwhelmed with the love I have for you!

Thank you Jesus for this precious gift. Thank you for choosing ME as her Mother. Guide me and G as we raise her to be the woman that you have designed her to be. Bless her in all that she does, in her comings and goings, be right beside her. Place in her heart a hunger for You, to know you, to honor you, to love you! I feel speechless, like words can not grasp the intensity of this precious gift You have entrusted us with. Thank you God, for her life, for every breath she takes. She's been breathing for less that 12 hours and I already feel like I have been blessed beyond measure. You are a good God. All the time. All the time.


6 YEARS AGO TODAY!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY PRECIOUS GIFT!

It has been SUCH a joy being your momma and watching you grow and learn and love life the way you do over these past 6 years. You are such a shining star! You have a gift of gentleness, just like that first day you were here. You are kind, and thoughtful and sensitive to others. You make me so so proud. Such a big helper, and such an amazing little friend I have in you. I love having our date nights and talking about heaven, and how reindeer fly, and how to say words in french. You are my sunshine...when skies are gray...
I love you truly, madly, deeply.
Have a wonderful day today princess.
Butterfly, Bear, Fish and sloppy kisses,
~Momma

Timing Is Everthing

Cindy* climbed onto the huge 747 plane with blueprint plans in her head and giddy expectation in her heart. The time had come to finish building the school she had designed for the children of an impoverished country,who had stolen her heart 3 years prior. Had she packed all she needed? Toothbrush! Did she forget her toothbrush? Surrounding her were many other passengers eagerly awaiting take-off, and contemplating their own questions. There was the large man in 17B, wearing the blue striped button down dress shirt, who was listening to Enya on his ipod, trying to calm himself, as flying was not on his top 10 favorite things to do list. There was the young couple in 22E&F, who were holding hands, despite their sweaty palms, chattering non-stop about how exciting it was to finally, after so long, be on the plane that would take them to meet their first adopted child. In row 5, seat A, sat a woman who had just lost her husband to a long and tiring fight with lupus, and was now hoping to get some peace as she flew back to their homeland to bury his remains there.

The flight attendants rehearsed their safety spiel for what was probably the one billionth time, and then they were off. It was a 6 hour flight, and besides the orange juice that spilled in 27C's lap, it was a relatively uneventful one.

Upon landing, Cindy stood in line as the passengers were anxiously watching for the grand door of the plane to open and release them. This next chapter of their lives was calling, which at this point, unbenownst to anyone, was one that very much tied them all together. When Cindy reached the opening of the plane, she was slammed with the powerful heat and smells and sounds of a world much different that what she had been used to. She walked down the extended metal stairs, right on to the tarmac, and smiled as the Caribbean style bongo and xylophone band welcomed her to their country.

Once inside the overcrowded, dimly lit airport, she clung to her passport as the passengers were herded like cattle through 5 different customs gates. Some made it through within seconds, receiving their stamps of approval. While others were being questioned and scrutinized for what seemed like forever in the thick muggy heat. Cindy was praying that she would be part of the first group, and be whisked through, so that she could make it for her 5pm check in at the prestigious hotel that was awaiting her. All she could think of was laying her tired body on a nice soft bed in a room that was blissfully air conditioned! Once the man ahead of her was through, she pulled out her best smile and semi-confidently strode up to the gate. A small dark man with a bald head and large beady eyes snatched her passport with a huff, flipped through in a rush, then suddenly stopped. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the stamps on page 12. He slowly looked up at her, his eyes, little judgmental slits, and commanded her directly into a holding room.

UGH! Cindy was completely baffled and totally disgruntled. How unnecessary! How annoying! What on earth could she have been sent in here for? She was a stand up citizen! The very worst thing she'd done in her life was when she stole a pack of cough drops from the local corner store when she was 9. Oh, and her mother made sure of it that she'd never do that again!

After an hour of waiting and contemplating and sweating, a customs guard poked his head in to the tiny holding room, nodded once, said that she's free to go, and slammed the door behind him. No questions. No prodding. No interrogation. Annoyed, she picked up her luggage, which had been tossed off the carousel on to the cement floor, since most everyone else from her flight had already left. In fact, she was 1 of the last 5 passengers from her flight that got on the airport shuttle bus that was to take them to the promise of a cool room in a quiet spacious hotel.

She lay her head back on the tall vinyl bus seat, and tried to relax as they bumped through the pot holed gravel road. There really should be seat belts on here, she thought. The bus had only been plodding along for less that 5 minutes when it happened. It reminded her of a ride at Disneyland where the vehicle shakes violently with you inside it, trying to invoke thrill and fear all at once. Only this time, it was no ride, and as the cinder block houses on either side of the road began to crumble and fall into the street, the fear was very real. The deafening slams of concrete, the crashes of metal vehicles, the shrill screams of people, so so many people, was soon all that was echoing though the debris filled air.

*******

As stories began to come out over the next couple of days of death tolls and damage quotes, Cindy sat shocked and even humbled as she stared at the front of a newspaper. On it was a picture of the decimated ruins of the hotel she had had a 5pm check in time at. Many of the passengers she flew with on that American Airlines flight, who did not get held up at customs, were checking in right at the time that all hell broke loose. Many were now buried under tons of concrete rubble. And she, she had been detained. For no apparent reason. Held back. Saved. What seemed like an utter inconvenience, was now the sole contributor of her having breath in this very moment. How humbling. How coincidental? How divine.



**This is my fictional version of a real event I read about in the paper this week. Cindy* is a lady from my area who was in Haiti, at the time of the earthquake. She was spared, when many others were not. May this be a reminder to you. The next time you can't find your car keys...the next time the train fully stops when you are parked at the railway crossing...the next time your spouse is 2 hours late to pick you up...just think, maybe, just maybe it's all part of a divine plan, one that may even include sparing your life.**

Teeth and Tutu's and Tv's, Oh My.

Any woman who has had the opportunity to care for something like, oh, a child, or even a beloved pet, might know all too well about what I am going to share with you.

If you have a man in your life, a husband, a boyfriend, a partner in crime who helped you create, adopt or purchase that something special to care for...you may have similar stories to contribute at our virtual latte table here.

Disclaimer: Daddy G is a fabulous, hands on Daddy, who adores his children, and I am so very beyond blessed that he is the Daddy in our home. I have several evening committments throughout the week, and I completely trust him with all 3 of our (never-rambunctious) children...

....he just may do things a little different than I would at times...

I know that DG certainly would put all the darling babes in mountain-fresh laundered pj's before bedtime. No way would I come home to find B fast asleep in a *way too small* ballerina tutu on her bottom and my wedding veil wrapped around her top. And no way would baby L be sawing z's in a *way too big* pair of flannel overalls(don't even know where's those came from) with hardened pieces of macaroni encrusted on it. Lucky for S, she just got to peacefully drift off to dreamland wearing the same clothes she went to school in that day.

I'm also fully aware that, just like me, DG is a stickler for hygiene, and therefore would always give the children baths, followed by a leave in hair conditioner treatment and comb-thru, and of course the mandatory and completely necessary tooth brushing. He's not the type who would
-give the babes a wet face cloth and say to just wash your pits
-take their finger,cover it with toothpaste,and say that's a good as a toothbrush
-and hair? What hair? The children have hair?

I also would be fully shocked to come home at an hour that is encroaching the morning, only to find the oldest 2, fast asleep, in nothing that resembles clothing, with the only light in the room coming from a screaming loud tv movie that had been set to "replay forever". That would never happen in our house.

And lastly, my lovely lady S lost her second tooth this week. The day after the tooth fairy came, the tooth was placed in a little box on top of the fridge. **What? I keep my kids teeth? Yes, I do. I'm sure it stems from some childhood issue like when I didn't receive that pony for my 7th birthday, regardless, I admit it's weird, but something won't let me just chuck them.** So when I walked into the living room and saw the little tooth box upside down with no lid on it, I asked the very obvious question to DG....Where....are the teeth?? **Not saying this ever happened in our house**, but if it had, I'm sure DG's face wouldn't have gone white as a ghost as he stuttered..."Ooooh. Oh. Oh. I was thinking that didn't quite look like a cheerio that baby L swallowed."

Yes. So it's possibly true that all is not done just as I would do things when I am away from the house, but I would like to thank my DG for the valuable time he spends with out little ones. For without him, I'm pretty sure they would not have been able to accurately share the differences between the Canon 7D and a Nikon D300 at kindergarten show & tell.

Two Evils

After 7+ years of marriage, I think it's safe to assume that the toilet seat is not going to be put down every time I wander in to the bathroom. {Or ever. Let's just be honest.} You'd think that growing up with 2 older sisters, KDG would have learned the rules of the potty rim. And, looking back, it is actually very possible that at one point in history, he did learn them, and even abided by them. But lessons learned in that time period did not stand a chance against the 19 years of bachelorhood that was to follow. Living in a house of 6 men, er..boys...created a new set of rules, which unfortunately did not include putting a toilet seat down. Fair enough. I can deal. I will not relent, but I can deal.

But today my beef is not with KDG and his alive&well bachelor habits.

Ladies. We know better when it comes to bathroom behavior. I thought. We are the ones who {socially speaking anyways} are cleaning/disinfecting/toothbrush scrubbing this nasty room. So one would assume we would know better.

The very last straw I had in my tolerance quiver was violently ripped out today when, in a rush, accompanied by three overtired and {never}demanding children, sat my white as snow arse down on a public potty {gasp} before I needed clean up in isle 5.

Only to find my aforementioned lovely bottom soaked in someone else's pee. Ok. I get it ladies. I do. You don't want your precious backside to come within 3 inches of that filthy/grubby/polluted public washroom seat. Cause who knows what living organism is just waiting eagerly to glom on to you and leave you with oozing sores all over your entire body for the remainder of your days.

But for the love of all that's holy, is it too much to ask, to wipe/dab/mop your own urine off before exit of the stall? Seriously? Promise I will do it for you. PUH-LEASE do it for me. Cause I swear to you, if I have one more wet bum moment, I may just get gender reassignment and begin leaving the seat up. Seems the lesser of the two evils to me.

Never Again

I would really like to say never again, but, being part of a fickle people short of memory and fat in self centeredness....

...let's just say...for today....never again.

Never again will I complain about having taco salad for 3 nights in a row, when this man is eating his first meal of the week...on Thursday.



Never again will I tell myself, "you can brush their teeth tomorrow" as I forgo the evening routine due to tiredness, when this sweet babe is learning brushing hygiene for the first time at age 3. She has already lost 4 teeth, due to not having a toothbrush and toothpaste.



I will never again feel embarrassed for driving a minivan, when this man's chariot has no brakes, no roof to keep the rain off of him and certainly no trunk room to carry all of the "necessary" things I need daily.



Never again will I complain about my 6 year old extremely warm Columbia winter jacket being out of style, when someone in my city will be donning a jean jacket throughout the entire winter, considering it their salvation.



Never again will I feel sorry for myself for not being able to afford to get my roots touched up "this month", when this man was so grateful to get the mats cut out of his hair that had accumulated over the past 2 years. (It brought tears to my eyes watching the joy of his moment.)



Never again will I complain about my closet not being big enough, when this man's entire life fits in a duffel bag and a garbage sac.




This past Wednesday and Thursday, I was here:



I was asked to be the photographer for this city event and what started as a mere job, transformed my thinking like I could not have imagined. Sometimes it takes getting on a plane and flying to a Guatemalan dump to feel the radical shift of culture and let it shock your system and your world thinking into the proper place where it should be. Thankful. And sometimes it just takes stepping out in your very own city, to remember that there are many many people who would LOVE to have ...your problems.

Note to Self:

You may know the type.

The days that you suspect are part of your life if ONLY for teaching you patience.

I've had a lot of those all sandwiched on top of each other for weeks now. But just recently, may I possibly *whisper* this without the cosmos hearing me and crashing in on the party...I think it's getting better. Like a LOT better. The routines that we began in September are now getting done like we're on auto-pilot. And Momma is feeling at home again in this new chapter of life. *Big sigh*

So. I just wanted to write down a few things, if not for you, than at least for me to look back on, if for some unbeknownst reason to me, the crazy days pop up again, which I am SURE they won't, then I can try to see the silver lining if I squint hard enough.

1. When you have spent an entire week wearing sweats, the *ahem*same sweats, at least your booty still fits in them after consuming untold amounts of Oreo Cakesters while sobbing over Grey's Anatomy.
2. If You're so desperate for adult conversation that you spill your guts to the telemarketer that calls...and HE hangs up on YOU...well, at least you still have a phone, and you can always call Skyla, she'll put you on speakerphone and "uh huh" mindlessly for hours.
3. If popsicles have become a staple food group, remember the sound of silence that follows is priceless. And chocolate milk ones count for one dairy serving, it's the law.
4. When your feet are sticking to the kitchen floor, crank up that old Snoop Dog song and work the sticky sound in with your killer dance moves.
5. If you are singing along to the Elmo song that's in your car's CD player long after you have dropped the kids off, well, there's no silver lining on that one. Please get help. Immediately.
6. If your purse contains packages of Pepperage farm goldfish, a juice box, assorted wrappers and and two soothers, at least you can zip that thing shut and everyone will just think it's a lovely bag... oh, except for the fact that your 3 year old has written her huge name backwards in permanent marker on the side that you are unaware of... yeah... except that.
7. If Tylenol PM has become part of your daily vitamin intake, remember this is just the "light" stuff. People take much more heavier things to sleep. You are practically an organic druggie next to them. *Pat pat* way to go.
8. If you need a dress for an occasion and realize the night before that you don't have one and if you do, you don't have shoes other than Keds with grass stains on them, mmmm, don't forget how HOT you look in those sweats. Grab the Cakesters, throw out the scale, pop on a Grey's DVD, and forget the party. We all know chocolate and McDreamy are the only friends who are consistently faithful anyways.
9. And finally, when the baby eats 3/4 of the dog food, remind yourself, it's vitamin and mineral enriched, it's probably great for him too.

Now that I feel better about my crazy transition into a full time "school mom", I hope to be around this blogisphere a bit more. The air is....a little more sweet. Missed you my chocolates.

The shark did it.

Um...my computer fell in the bathtub?

Er...my best friend had septuplets and I had to go wet nurse 4 of them?

Mmm...both of my arms were gnawed off by a shark while swimming at the kiddie pool?

Hm. There must be SOME reason why my blog has been utterly rejected, ignored and snubbed by me?

Couldn't be that baby L started walking and I have not sat down since...

Or that Queen S began Kindergarten, and getting 3 kids out the door by 8:30 is a routine I am still getting used to...

Or that I have gone to bed 3 minutes after the kids are asleep for the whole month of september??

I want you to know that you are loved, so I have decided to give you a bullet point teaser list of the kind of glory you have sadly missed out on in the last month.

• After a morning music class with B and L, I noticed a stank coming from L's pants. Upon inspection, I realized it was only one lone poo ball, no bigger than a grape, reeking havoc upon my nostrils. What would ANY cheap *ahem*...thrifty, penny-pinching momma do? Of course.. pluck the poo ball from the top of the crack, gingerly toss it over her shoulder in the half filled parking lot, pull the sunglasses from top of head over eyes, chuck the kids in the van and STEP on it before the music teacher comes to get the binder she forgot in her car, and subsequently ending up cursing under her breath as she wipes off the 'dog poo' she traipsed upon.

• After her first full day of french kindergarten, imagine the pride I felt when I asked her what she had learned that day and she answered point blank, "I learned that the Stacey girl just should not wear red. It makes her hair look too bright." Wow. Good. Glad we are feeling proactive about Stacey's wardrobe misjudgment. C'est tres bien.

• There are few things I like more than a delish breakfast of waffles, eggs, hash browns and bacon. While in the kitchen one school day, preparing such a morning delight, Princess B meandered in, asking if she could help. I had put all of the waffle ingredients in the bowl, except the water, and it was perfect timing for her to pour it in, then whisk it up. I informed her of the plan, showed her the measuring cup which held the water, then went to the other side of the kitchen to stir up the hash browns. After a few minutes, I glanced back to notice Miss B stirring up a storm, yet the measuring cup of water strangely untouched. When I encouraged her again to pour the water in, she looked at me with those big bambi eyes, and replied, "But I did Mommy, I poured ALL the water in," as she held up a very empty large bottle of peppermint extract.

A few golden tidbits for the memory vault. Oh how these busy days with 3 young children make me laugh. I do believe I may just be living in the best days of my life.

The Duck

So here's the thing.

I wrote this biiiig post the other day. The time came to press PUBLISH POST, and the strangest thing happened.

I could not...for the life of me...carry that post to the publishers.

It was MUCH too H.E.A.V.Y!!!

So. Until I find some of David's mighty men to help me lift this heavy post, I will bring you something that I found I could carry myself...something much MUCH lighter.

I'm going to use 5 simple letters to open a box in your mind, full of sights and sounds and emotions and fears and possibly joys...yah, not sure about that last one....

Today, I get to add some more memories to MY box. For today, I visit the

O.B.G.Y.N

Lord have mercy. Immediately I am plagued by the terror of the metal duck clamp. The one that was "thoughtfully" warmed up under water before use. The one that was "thoughtfully" under TOO warm of water...more like SCALDING water before use, and of course the testing ground to see if the temperature was acceptable...well, let's just say it was not my wrist.

I have changed OBGYN's about 6 times until I found one with whom I did not feel the need to smack upside the head, and say LOOK INTO MY EYES. Yes, I realize, that by profession, the eyes are not the focal point at any of these appointments. I have to wonder though... If you are of the male persuasion and in med school...what oh WHAT possesses you to want to specialize in gynecology? We are taught to treat it like it's professional..but in my VERY humble, but always right, opinion...it's just weird to pretend to be all professional when your job entails looking up 30+ skirts a day. I don't want no dude looking at my girlie bits! *ahem* (Well maybe one...but THAT'S the limit!) That's why I have found a woman, who actually is only 2 years older than me. So after she roots around for an hour in 'the cellar', we can just go out for a drink and forget all about it.
No. I'm joking. Cause that's weird.

I don't think I will ever...EVER...feel comfortable wearing a recycled paper drape and sticking my legs in the stirrups in front of ANYone. And this is coming from someone who has been in plenty a delivery room with plenty a medical staff hovering around the regions, with absolutely NO modesty allowed beyond the L&D front doors. You'd think after all of the medical staff in this city have seen my certain things, that said certain things become, well, like a knee, or an elbow. Nope. I still get nervous. I still feel like a school child. I still wonder,
"Do they all really look the same?"
"What's she thinking about me?"
"Why didn't I shave my mammoth legs?"
"Does the A.C seriously HAVE to be cranked to the point of shivering in here?"
"I hate the metal duck. I hate the metal duck. I hate the metal duck."

I am already freaking out inside about stepping into that office today. I already know I will make too many humor attempts. I already know that I will laugh too loud one too many times. I alreday know I will prolong the talking part as long as humanly possible. I just don't know...how hot that metal duck is going to be. And THAT scares the living daylights outta me.

Covered

Journal entry 2 years ago:

August 22, 2007

Just got my surgery done. Lump is gone.

Whew.

God just blows me away. My main RN taking care of me - total amazing Christian man. He prayed with me, and sat and listened to me read my book on grace that I brought with me while I nervously waited.

I felt like God set that up just for me.

He sees me.

I matter to Him.

He wanted to calm my fear.

I am humbled by this, and beyond grateful.

Thank you Jesus for never leaving me, and for your tangible presence through this entire process. Your peace and grace are more than enough for me. Now, I thank you for keeping my body infection free as I heal.

I randomly came across this entry tonight. On the eve of this exact date. I think God might be reminding me that He's got my back. It's been a bit rough in the past few weeks. But in all the stress, uncertainty, unexpected changes, tiredness that this life can present us with, at the end of the day, He's got our backs. At the beginning of the day...He's got our backs.
He sees us.
We matter to Him.
I am reminded.
I am thankful.

NMM

I knew we were running low on diapers. At midnight, 2 nights ago, the word "low" became the word "out" of diapers. As Baby L is bellowing the alarm to let all the world know his shorts are full of sloppy green blueberry poo, I am frantically searching every nook and cranny, for one precious hiding diaper. To no avail. What is a girl to do when no stores are open and her baby is in desperate need of clean and dry manly bits...I don't know about her, but I definitely would NOT suggest snagging a pair of his 3 yr old sisters princess panties, sticking an extra long/with wings pad to it, and praying to the powers that be that the "Super absorbency" claim would hold true to it's promise. And upon inspection in the morning, when noticing that the super pad had saved the day, it certainly did not cross my mind to permanently trade in the diapers for the pads seeing as though it would be SO much cheaper!!

This week I received a huge gash to my forehead. Sometimes it's just the price you have to pay when you are a hero like me, jumping into busy hi-ways to save runaway baby carriages. Not everyone is called to the life of a gallant daredevil goddess of liberation. But those of us who are, don't even think twice or bat an eyelash when duty calls, even if we incur some harm in the process, it's all totally worth it. I can assure you that I am not embellishing the story whatsoever and that this gash was not just a huge zit. I can also assure you that after living with this atrocity for an entire week, I had not exhausted all of my first aid options for such a nasty laceration, and so decided to smother the entirety of the right side of my face with Butt Paste diaper creme as I slept. Glad to say, my hero scar is diminishing nicely.

And to make us all feel a little better about ourselves, and to remind us that it really can happen to anyone...a few pictures of things that any mother would tell you did not happen.

Just watched 17 again.

I am a HUGE SUCKER for anything chick-flick-ish.

I loved this movie.

And now I have discovered I am a huge sucker for Zac Efron.

I know he's like 12 and all, but he's a cute 12 year old who personally I think can actually really act.

My one question is this though....

In the movie there was the young character (Zac) and then him as an older man (played by Chandler. HA! Can't even remember his real name...but y'all know Chandler.)

As much as I love Chandler, I couldn't get my head around the fact that Zac looks exactly like a different older hottie actor who I think would have been a much better choice for the role...

I'm just saying...

Zac


John Stamos

I KNOW, right?? Just saying...

A worthy cause

Alright already, I hear you!


You can stop screaming at me demanding pictures of the 3 cutest kids on the planet!


Here they are...



BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA....Oh the things I do to bring you joy. I know, I'm a saint. You can thank me later. Or I am accepting all things covered in sugar, since it is Sugar Awareness Month. At least in my house it is. And I am doing my part to be very aware of it. And all the goodness it entails. So I might expand the awareness to next month as well. In fact, I do believe a year is the very least we can do for such an important cause. A year it is. The phone lines are now open for your contributions. It's for the children.


And here are some sweet,warm fuzzy images to help soften up your hearts and wallets to this worthy cause.

Emptying her piggy bank for this honorable charity.


Hoping the Fairy Godmother fills up her purse!


Hypnotizing coins out of even the smallest and wettest of pockets.


Rebelling against all things sugar-free...apples and perogies...forget it.


And if all this can't convince you, I leave with you images to burn into your subconscious of the beautiful lives you will be helping. How can you turn away from these? Have you no soul?





Give now. If I have to eat another blueberry, I may just shrivel up and die. Oh, I mean the children, right, it's all for the children.