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Friday, December 27, 2013

I couldn't say it any better

 
This picture of the Piglet describes exactley how I feel. Don't mind me, I'm just gonna close my eyes for a sec here, just keep partying around me, no, no I don't need a nap, just gonna...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
My favorite part is the lifeless arm that hangs straight down. What you must know is this picture was taken in the middle of Christmas day in a house full of people and children while an entire loud bustling Christmas party went on around him. We tried putting him in a quiet room in his swing for a nap earlier....but that was not working....aah much better.

Oh the week after Christmas....
My house: a wreck
My Tree: Dead and lifeless
My laundry pile: Avalanche level
My bed: Un made
My Give- a- Crap meter: 0

Hope you are all having a Merry "week after Christmas with weird lul inbetween new year, where your house stays a wreck and you aren't sure why you are at work because no one is working anyway week."

Tuesday, December 17, 2013

The Christmas Rat and Sheep Jesus

This is the Christmas Rat. He was named this by the Monkey. I always called him the Christmas Mouse, seemed more PC, but no, he tells it like it is, Ol' Christmas Rat. The Monkey has been fascinated with him ever since the Christmas boxes came out. He is a  decoration I brought with me from my single girl days, when all my decorations were cutesy and girly. The Rat is dressed like an elf and has a little ceramic bathtub he lounges in. I usually put him in the bathroom, give it a little whimsy and cheer.
 
The Monkey decided he needed a real bath the first night, filled his little tub, and dunked away. Meh, oh well. We squeezed him out and hung him up to dry. I have talked before about using your stuff, and that things have more meaning when they are used, and old, and worn, and have funny memories associated with them. No one ever laughs and giggles and sheds a tear over the pristine figurine that sits in a lighted glass case it's whole life. No, we will look back at this tattered, soggy rat someday and crack up at his adventures.

 
 
Christmas Rat now has quite the exciting life. He rides around a plastic speed boat in the bath tub each night, and sits atop a monster truck during the day, waiting for the Monkey to come back home from school and continue his adventure. It makes me think of a Children's book. How this little Rat lives such an exciting life one month out of the year...then waits patiently in his storage bin to rejoin his Monkey and continue his Christmas adventures. Hmmmm....I should write this book...you think?
 
The Monkey is also fascinated with the Nativity scene this year. He loves moving all the porcelain people around, and gives me the look of questioning approval whenever a tiny "clink" happens. I just smile and remind him to be careful. Oh what a thrill it must be to be allowed and trusted to play with something that you know is delicate and treasured. So far, he has done so well. Only one sheep has a cracked foot, and I am almost certain that happened in the box in the attic.
 
The Monkey calls them "Baby Jesus, Mommy Jesus, Daddy Jesus, Sheep Jesus, and Donkey. Poor Donkey. Again, I will cherish the memories of Sheep Jesus forever, and will probably call him that when the Monkey is 30.
 
Beautiful life happens when we stop stressing about things, and just let life happen. So what if the Christmas Rat gets wet and soggy, he will dry. What fun adventures he would have missed if he was off limits!  Who cares if Daddy Jesus and Sheep Jesus end up a little chipped...at least a little boy was interested enough in them to hear the story of Jesus's birth, and will remember the truth of Christmas forever.
 
Don't get me wrong, I am not going to let him drink red kool-aid in my brand new car anytime soon. I am not a hippy mom who says "oh you colored on the wall, what wonderful free expression" Um, no. But I am learning to let life with kids happen around me, and soak up the magic that they bring to my life, chips, stains, and memories.
 
Merry Christmas everyone. May your chipped cup runeth over with joy and love this Christmas. 
 
Oh and if you steal my Christmas Rat children's book idea I will sue you. Happy New Year! ;)
 

Monday, November 4, 2013

Nothing like a good night's sleep


03:00 am: Piglet is huffy. He doesn't cry much mind you, but huffs and puffs, and smacks his whole body down onto his crib mattress when he gets fussy. The Hubs calls him a click bug..whatever that is. He curls his whole body up like a C, then flattens out quickly, flopping himself around in protest of his cage er uh, crib.  Anyway, 03:00, Piglet: both legs shoved through the slats of the crib, legs flailing, huffing getting down right frantic. Mommy to the rescue...pulls legs through, and as thank you to Mommy for saving legs, Piglet will wake up fully and allow her to feed him. Thank you Mommy.

03:03am: Finally settled into feeding position on bed. Piglet happily eating his 03:00 celebratory bottle.  Mommy hears strange noises through out the house. Thumping, TV, movement. Is an intruder watching Super Why at 03:03!? Determined to kick intruder out, set Piglet down to go investigate. Piglet screaming for Mommy to return in 3...2...

03:05am: Discover The Monkey wide awake in the living room, watching TV, playing cars, eating cereal.  Mommy explains to Monkey that it is not in fact 08:00 but 03:05 and he is absolutly not to be up eating cereal and watching info-mercials on steam cleaners. He must go back to bed, lights off, party's over. Monkey starts wailing because mommy is just so unreasonable and mean in 3....2...

03:07am: Back to room where Piglet's cries are now being muffled by a large, very handsome I might add,  man who flops one arm out of bed onto the pacifier in Piglets mouth to quiet him until "Mommy the saver of legs" returns.  Back to feeding Piglet. Only eats 2 ounces... so sleepy, back to sleep, geez Mommy, it is like 03:00 am, how can I be expected to finish a whole bottle, so sleeeeeepy....

04:00am: Hubs is up, getting ready for work. Yes, special assignment, more crazy work hours, must leave house at 04:30. Mommy intermittently wakes up to tell him where she put his pants and tell him she loves him.

04:45am: Piglet decides he would very much like to finish that bottle now please.....nope...still too sleepy

05:15am: Alarm to wake up goes off, Mommy is already awake anyways.

05:18am: Shower, damn it! Mommy ran out of soap, welp will just have to smell like the Hubs today.

05:35am: Out of shower, trying to blow dry hair, but Piglet is still fussy.  Move dryer to plug next to bed so that Mommy can tickle Piglet's belly and keep him happy while blindly drying hair with no mirror. Meh, it prolly looks fine.

0550am: Still in towel, Ok Piglet is really hungry now! MUST EAT! Feed Piglet while in towel and attempting to put lotion on  face while holding bottle. The Monkey is now up again.

06:00am: Finish feeding Piglet, still in towel, go holler for Monkey to get dressed for school. remember, "Crap" he didn't get a bath last night .... needs bath....

06:10am: Mommy has on shirt and underwear, no pants, curlers in half damp hair doing nothing, still no makeup. Screw it we have to leave in 20 minutes, no bath for you Monkey, just get dressed. "No those jeans, no the jeans, no no shorts it is too cold, no jeans, no, no, ok fine those jeans are fine." Who are we trying to impress, you will already be the stinky kid today.

06:20am: Blindly brush half damp hair with no mirror while putting Piglet in his clothes, he laughs at the hilarious Mommy.

06:30am: Leave, leave, we must leave, out the door, "no you cannot go back in for more cars, no we cannot stop for donuts, no please put the pumpkins down, get in the car, get in the car, get in the....oh, it is locked, sorry buddy. "

07:00am : Drop Piglet off at grandmas: she informs me there is huge wreck and hazmat spill on  direct route to the Monkey's school, and work, must take alternative rout.

07:30am: Time to be dropping Monkey off, still not there, alternate route is alternate for all other people alive, still driving.

07:45am: Finally drop monkey off, pray no one notices he has had no bath.

08:00am: Slide into work just under the wire. Get asked if am "feeling alright"...wonder why... remember no makeup and half damp, no mirror hair.

Yay for Monday.


Wednesday, October 23, 2013

Me vs. Elliot

So...my little Piglet has been suffering from a stuffy, runny nose all week. Poor fellow. I decided to get him a cool mist humidifier to help his congestion while he sleeps. I have this fear that his nose will somehow get so stuffed up that he will suffocate. I know this is probably very  unlikely in reality, but in my head, it is most likely going to happen. This is why I dragged the huge pac-n-play into our room Monday night so the Piglet could sleep a mere 3 inches from my face, you know, in case of snot suffocation. I could swoop in with the nose sucker bulb thing and save his tiny life. He didn't require nose sucking saving and slept through the night, whew. Anywho, back to the humidifier. I found this adorable one shaped like an Elephant who blows the steam out of his trunk...how cute. Immediately the Monkey wanted to play with it and quickly filled the water tank with his Monster trucks...hhhh....Who wouldn't... it looked like the elephant had a belly full of monster trucks. 

Bed time arrived with it's usual fury of cleaning up dinner, bathing children, and hearing the Hubs say "don't just suck the toothpaste off...brush... oh fine let me do it for you...". Then the Hubs got called away to work, and I was left to my own devices to figure out this cheerful elephant steam blower thing. His name is Elliot, it says so on the box.

Easy enough I thought. Fill with water...turn on..instant non baby death. Easy peasy, I went to college. First line of directions, bolded:

"DO NOT place humidifier on carpet, wood, a towel, or tile surface. Elevate humidifier two feet above the ground, on a level, lint free, water resistant surface."

Hmmmm..... um, what? The floor next to the crib is carpet, the floor adjacent to the crib is tile (bathroom) and the dresser next to the crib is wood, and I can't cover any of them with a towel....um what exactly would they like me to place this thing on? My mind continued on:  maybe a chair..no all my chairs are wood... hmm...maybe flip over a plastic trash can, wait that seems very unstable and much more dangerous...maybe the...no, or the...no.  Maybe this thing should come with it's own special stand made of Titanium Carbide or Tungsten...is that allowable? Giving up hope on finding a suitable surface, I moved on to the next section: the plugging in of my Cheeky little Elliot.
"Plugging in device: Be sure plug is atleast 2 feet away from device, and located preferably above the device"  OK, I can see the logic in this: water spillage+ electricity= bad. But..um didn't they tell me to elevate this thing 2 feet on some surface made of moon rocks...so my plug needs to be 4 feet off the ground...like chest level? Do you have a chest level plug in your home, with no wood, tile, or carpet near it? No? Me either. Then I started to even investigate where the plugs were in the room..
hmmm....prolly not the best place to plug in my electrified water squirting death machine. You know, inside the crib slats and all.  Also, note to self, get baby plug protector things STAT...

So exhausted at the ridiculous demands of the Cheeky bastard Elliot requiring his own personal 4 foot tall electrical outlet and his own bed made of nothing but leaves from the Himalayan jungle... I just did this:
Yep, there is Ol' Elliot the steam shooting death machine, his little feet half on tile, half on carpet, not elevated, and his cord stretched across a doorway, cause that was the only plug I could find not next to the baby's head. Super safe indeed.

And then...this guy started feeling much better...

 
So...we ended up not even using Mr. Steamy the Elephant of Death.... I changed his name.
Happy Hump day.





Friday, October 11, 2013

My week as a single mother

This week I officially experienced single motherhood...to three. The Hubs was away on a business trip to Colorado. So, I was left to hold down the fort here in Texas with a 15 year old, 6  year old, and 3 month old. I had lofty goals for myself this week, lofty I say.

So my lofty goals included :
1. Get all three children to school or grandma's house on time, and then get myself to work on time.
2. Make a crockpot meal every night so that we can eat something at 7:30 pm when I finally get home from picking all three of them up at different locations spanning the entire county. (No, seriously)
3. Wear matching clothes to work every day, and have my hair fixed and makeup done.
4.  Pack my lunch every day so that I can run laps on my lunch break. See flabby butts for more information on that.

Mitigating Factors:
 The Monkey loses his shit when The Hubs goes away...I have yet to pinpoint exactly why this happens, but as soon as that man leaves  for an over night stay, that little boy turns into one of the children from Nannie McPhee.  Day 1: Email home from teacher about behavior. Day 2:  After school sitter, told me we "needed to talk" when I arrived. Day 3: Phone call at work from teacher. The Monkey's teacher has been with him for 2 years, all I had to say was "The Hubs is out of town" and she slapped her leg and said "I knew it!" Yup....it is like clockwork.

The Piglet decided that the week his father leaves the state would be the perfect time to start teething...oh yay.
{Nom Nom Nom- notice the ninja foot extended- back up woman...I am chewing for my life here}


The oldest, Sissy Bug, is much more self-sufficient, but still requires "carting around" as my mother would say, and must be picked up from high school theater practice every afternoon. She also left her key at school and locked herself out of the house on Wednesday and required me leave work and come rescue her. I wanted to make her suffer for her irresponsibility, and just wait on the porch for me until I got home....but there is a road crew currently re-digging our ditches....she is a gorgeous blonde 15 year old who is very friendly.....not a good idea. And I figured the Hubs would divorce me if I didn't at least keep all of his children alive and not kidnapped while he was gone.....jeez...high standards.

So here is what I REALLY Accomplished this week:

1. The Piglet slept through the night for the first time...teething and all....(There is a God) I would like to take credit for this, with some fantastic tale of how I "sleep train" my child or some other fanciful parenting book malarkey I mastered, but no. This was sheer dumb luck. When I woke up at 4:45am and realized I hadn't been up since 10:30pm the night before; I did a triple take. First I checked to make sure some intruder hadn't stolen my baby in the night. Yes, that was my first logical assumption. If you knew me, you would understand. Once I saw him sleeping peacefully, I counted the bottles on the dresser...it is VERY possible I woke up, fed the baby, and have no recollection of said event whatsoever. But no...all of my pre-prepared night bottles still sat untouched....wow....
2. I placed a lovely roast in my crockpot on Monday...then forgot to turn it on...story of my LIFE. So I taught SissyBug how to brown ground meat. I feel she is now officially trained enough to live on her own. If you can make spaghetti, you can survive on your own.
4. I packed my lunch 2 days....and ran laps 2 days....however the rest of the week fell a little short. Wednesday I accepted a lunch invitation from a friend, Thursday I had a luncheon meeting, and Friday, well, I just got hungry and ordered tacos. Plus the Carnies (you know- traveling circus/carnival folk) moved in across the street from my work where I run. They are in town for some festival this weekend. They hang on the fence and stare at me while I run.  Is it a compliment that circus people think I am interesting enough to watch? Maybe it was me blasting Blue October Independently Happy from my phone as I ran that grabbed their attention.
5. I did wear makeup 4 of the 5 days, and my clothes matched, although I discovered a hole in one shirt at 2 pm, and spilled coffee down another shirt as I walked out the door. Please see the equation below for explanation:
Carseat carrier filled with 13lb child+huge diaper bag+workout bag+lunch+coffee cup+6 year old letting the screen door slam on you while you hold all of these items like a World's Strong Man contestant=coffee on shirt.
{Me...carrying everything to the car in one load..cause otherwise I would be a pansey,
*not really me}

6. I killed a very scary bug all by myself, without screaming and waking up all the children. I killed him with blunt force trauma from a tube of toothpaste... it was traumatic for both of us. He died, and well, my choice of weapon, while swift, was not the best choice. There I stood in the kid's bathroom, heaving breathless over his finally lifeless body, I felt no remorse after bludgeoning this bug with a tube of Bubble Mint toothpaste with SpongeBob pictured on the tube. He just wouldn't die.

The Hubs comes home tonight...I cannot wait! I miss him so much, He would have surely known a much better choice of bug killing weapon is a Kleenex box or the magazine sitting on the back of the toilet....I panicked...

He did have these delivered to my office on Thursday....He is a keeper.

Monday, September 30, 2013

Missing teeth, Flat heads, and Flabby Butts

Yep...That's what we got goin' on at our house.

{Does this count as Tummy Time? Well...this is how he prefers to sit now...while watching Cops...no joke}

I will start with Ol' Flat Head. Have you ever realized you were not worried very much about something you should be worried about? That was me last week. Well...let me start from the beginning.
At our 2 month check up on The Piglet, the Doctor casually mentioned that his head was getting a touch flat, and that we needed to increase his "tummy time." Yeah, yeah, yeah, got it Doc, his head is flat like ALL other babies at this age...surely it will pop back out once he starts sitting up more....blah blah.
But then...I read a blog about a precious baby girl who had to have a helmet put on, due to Plagiocephaly...... Here is a look inside my brain: wait...plagiocephaly...that word, that word..... sounds familiar, (checks The Piglet's paperwork from his most recent Dr. visit) Holy shit! They diagnosed him with PLAGIOCEPHALY!!! Why didn't anyone tell me!!!!! WHAT!!! Sound the alarms!!! Call in a specialist!!!! WHAT!!! IT CAN DEFORM THEIR FACE?????!!!!!!!OH SWEET MOTHER OF ALL THAT IS HOLY!!!! EMERGENCY! Yes....that is what my brain did. So I did what all good mothers would do. I panicked.
I called my mother, who keeps Piglet while I work and immediately told her to flip him on his stomach and never again let his head touch a surface. And being my mother, and a very loving grandmother, she agreed completely and encouraged me to take him for a second opinion. I called the Hubs at work, broke down the horrors for him and how our gorgeous baby would surely now need such a helmet , and could be facially deformed for life.  He agreed we needed a second opinion, but did not share my emergency alert hysterics. That is why we work so well together...he is definitely the calm one when it comes to things like this. I immediately decide that the worst case scenerio is most definitely our fate.
So, I took the next day off of work and took my baby to Texas Children's for a second opinion.  The doctor who saw us was wonderful, and did a much better job of explaining plagiocephalus. And yes it can cause permanent head flattening and facial deformity if not treated early. AND WHY DIDN'T THE OTHER DOCTOR TELL ME THIS!?" I shouted as I shook her (not really, but you can imagine) She explained that yes, the other doctor had failed to explain the condition to me fully, and had really downplayed it, and yes she probably should have gone over the condition fully, but that my little Piglet's plagiocephaly was very minor and could easily be corrected with more tummy time. Piglet had a large bump on his head from a looong 3 hour push session during birth...therefor he favored lying his head on the other side.
So...true to my nature, Piglet has pretty much had to learn to live his life in a constant state of Tummy Time. He is cool with it now...as the pic shows above, he just chills on his Boppy....lettin' his head "pop" back out. We are officially changing pediatricians. I will keep ya'll updated as we go along. My heart goes out to all the parents who's stories I read as I researched the SHIT out of Plagiocephaly. It really does sneak up on you, and of course you feel instant guilt.....if only we held him more, if only we DID do tummy time as much as we should...


In addition to having flat heads, my kids teeth are falling out! Ha, but this time, it is a good thing. The Monkey finally lost his first tooth...and then another...all in a matter of 3 days. He is so proud.
The tooth fairy brought him Cars Mini Drifters...cause, well, the concept of money is lost on a 6 year old with autism. And the tooth fairy knows what's up.....
 
The Monkey also found himself the coolest friend this weekend. He befriended a very calm and patient frog, who allowed him to carry him around all day, and even rode quietly and without objection on top of the Monkey's head as they played in the yard.
 
Now...no matter how hard I try, I cannot think of a good segway into flabby butts....so we will just jump off into the butt flab.
I have a flabby butt, geez I feel like I am at an AA meeting but for butt flab. "Hello, My name is Miranda, and I......I have a flabby butt."  Claps all around.  But seriously, the ol backside aint what she used to be before Ol' Flathead came along, so I have started running again (on my hour lunch breaks at work...because that is the only time I can even THINK of to run), trying to eat healthy and make good choices about food.  I will try to keep ya'll updated on my post baby body recovery, or whatever I eventually call it..for now...it is ol' flabby cheeks. Oh and there is no picture for this portion of the post....you are very welcome.


Thursday, September 26, 2013

Why yes I have it all together, thanks for asking....

So I am finding that organization is KEY now that I have a baby, and a busy 6 year old, and a very very busy 15 year old, and a Hubs who is called away at a moment's notice, and a full time job....If I am going to keep this shit show together and keep fooling all our neighbors and friends into thinking I really have it all together, then I better keep myself organized.

While preparing to go back to work I struggled with whether I should start carrying a purse again, and keep the diaper bag seperate...or do I try to do a combo action, I wasn't sure. Like most mothers, while I was exclusively staying home, my diaper bag became my purse. The outside pockets were great for my wallet, keys, phone, it worked well.  However now that I am back working, lugging a diaper bag into a meeting isn't going to win me any cool points in my male driven and dominated field. In short, I will look like an ass carrying my giant diaper bag into a meeting about critical infrastructure collapse....baby wipe anyone? And since the diaper bag has now taken on the role of carrying my junk too..it is a bit cumbersome to say the least...
 
Who wants to lug this into Target for a quick stop..... it takes up most of the cart!
 
So I had started just pulling my wallet, phone and keys out and taking just those in with me. But then I am stuck either holding them the entire time, or trying to set them in the cart next to the baby, and they fall down the cracks or beg to be absentmindedly left behind.
 
So....I found a fantastic solution....of course...at Target. I think they must spend millions on researching the inner workings of the female mind age 28-58...because all of us LOVE us some Target, and end up leaving with more than we came for: every.single.time.
 
To solve my problem, I found this little beauty:
 


She was $14.99.  She is navy and gold, and brick red, my kinda favorite colors right now. I love her because...
Yep...that is my phone, fitting just perfectly inside with all my cards, ID, and cash. Well, actually, that isn't my phone....that is my friend's phone....my phone is even thinner than that so it works even better. Who woulda thought it was impossible to take a pic of your own phone.....with your phone....

Oh and don't be impressed by my "wad" of cash, it is all ones from change I received after breaking a large bill to pay for a $1 tea. Hey...a girl needs her afternoon caffeine.

I don't know how long she will hold up...as she was 15$, and is made of synthetic pleather such material, but she does the job for now, and I didn't want to blow my wad (heh snicker) on some fancy wallet I will only use for this season of my life.

So, now I can easily grab this beauty out of the colossal diaper bag that could essentially use a Sherpa and a yak to tote it around for me, and I even clip my keys on the strap. Problem solved...no more phone loose and sliding down the slats of my Target cart as I stop for diapers, and leave with a new wallet and a bottle of 6$ Moroccan Argon Oil lotion....Damn it! Still forgot diapers.....

Lately my main goal in life is streamlining. Anything that is causing me undue stress, like wallets and phones and giant bags...needs to be changed to something that doesn't....that is the only way I can continue the charade that I have it all together....Otherwise I will likely end up sitting in the parking lot of Target weeping over a dropped and broken phone, and shaking my fist at the sky over the fact that my upgrade is 2 years away.  Not good for the ruse...not good.


Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Mommy...You Alive!

That is what my six year old exclaims when I leave the room for a few minutes and return...

I am alive. And so is my precious baby boy, and his big brother, and all my crazy family. I decided to take a computer break during my last few weeks of maternity leave to fully focus on my baby. I doubt I will ever get another oppurtunity to spend 9 weeks at home with any of my children, so I tried to soak it all up.

I spent my days being greeted each morning by this guy....

He is a little chubby bunny who I call "Squishy." He has blossomed into a round little fellow who is in the 75th percentile for height and weight. Holy Moly...big fella. It is amazing to me how much of his personality I can already see.  He is very quiet, and stoic, and very serious and contemplative most of the time. He doesn't give up those smiles easily, but when he does, it melts the room. I find it intriguing how quiet he is. Like he doesn't really cry, he only gets a little huffy breath of indignation when you make him wait to long for his lunch.  I know...mothers of colicky babies are bashing their computer screens right now and trying to hunt me down. I know how lucky I am. But as I told The Hubs last night as we discussed our little Piglet's quiet nature..."God does not give you that which you cannot handle..."  I have an INCREDIBLY LOUD 6 year old with Autism. And a vibrant yet VERY LOUD 15 year old. God knew Mommy needed a little quiet fella to keep her from running into the street in my pajamas babbling about losing my youth and my ability to hear low tones.
 
Breast feeding is over. I gave it my best shot. And before you go sending me links on how "breast is best" and my child will surely not "thrive" drinking formula only....I give you this.... In the words of Sweet Brown : "I got Mastitis...Aint no body got time fo dat!" Yes I got Mastitis...and it whipped my ass. It was like having the flu....and having someone sear my boob in a frying pan all while caring for a newborn. It also dried up my milk on one side due to complete blockage. So...with that icing on my BoobyLand Adventure cake...I stopped nursing. And we are ALL happier for it. Breastfeeding was harder for me than childbirth.

That Bitch, Mastitis, not only found it entertaining to cause me pain and suffering but also tried to ruin my life entirely. Oh yes. That pesky boob infection caused me to almost unintentionally share a pic of my enraged, enflamed, angry mastitis boob with the world! Just know this....if you ever take a pic of your horribly swollen and 'red as a stop sign' mastitis boob to send to your husband so he can understand your horrendous pain from afar...make sure you don't soon after update your Google+ app. As it may start randomly selecting pics from your phone to share with your Google+ audience.....Um, true story. Imagine tech illiterate me: "Honey....why does my phone keep alerting me that I have new pics selected for share on Google+? I updated it this morning.....it is like selecting random pictures to share?....(slow realization that there is an enraged boob pic on my phone) Slow motion run/jump/fall towards my phone....:"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
 
But enough boob talk for heaven's sake!
 
The Monkey started back to school. He is now in first grade. "what what!?" I remember when we were worried he would enter kindergarten still wearing a pull up! What happened to the years!!

I am back to work. I so wish I didn't have to go back to work. But I do. I remember visiting a friend of mine when I was about 20. She was a young stay at home mom. She talked to me lovingly for what seemed like eternity about how she had just redone her backsplash and painted her kitchen a lovely shade of robin's egg blue. She talked about all the baby's little gurggles and milestones.....I wanted to stab myself in the eye with her paint swatches! As I drove away I thought to myself "You could not pay me enough to be a stay at home mother...no way no how." Well, now, at 30, I would give anything to be at home paying attention to every gurggle and coo and would be crazy stinkin excited to be picking out a new DIY backsplash plan. Oh how the years change us.
 
However, I am blessed to have a career. While I miss my baby more than words can describe, I am trying to enjoy what my life IS. I enjoy the adult conversations I have at work again, I enjoy drinking coffee and talking about sports, and new budget year purchases, and upcoming meetings. I am enjoying working, and being good at my job. But most of all, I enjoy going and picking up my Squishy at 5. 

And....I missed my blogland freinds....it is good to be back.





Monday, August 12, 2013

Adventures in Boobyland

I am sure I am inadvertently ripping off some porn title that is copyrighted with this post. I am too scared to Google it and find out.  If I am ripping off your porn title, a. sorry, any likeness between the two is completely accidental, b. don't worry, I am sure you will make way more money with your "Boobyland" than I will, and c. read on, you may find that while my Adventures in Boobyland are not nearly as fun as yours, you may still find mine entertaining at least.


So...I had decided long before my Little Piglet was born that I wanted to breastfeed him.  All the books and websites promote how beneficial it is. I even purchased a book called "The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding" and read it cover to cover. Quite the "hippy'" title if you ask me, but it certainly made me aware that I would be damned straight to hell if I even considered feeding my child anything but breast milk.

Then Piglet was born, with a little problem....his tongue, it was "tied" to the bottom of his mouth. I tried my best to nurse him for his first week of life. Oh. dear. Lord... it was so hard. No one told me that due to his tongue tie, his latch would be shallow and cause me a great deal of pain. Like every single time I nursed him I had tears spring forth from my eyes involuntarily from the spine wrenching pain. I toughed through it though, thinking maybe I was just needing to "get used to it."

Then we made our first trip to the pediatrician. He said quite casually "So, are we going to clip his tongue tie?  I can't imagine how you have been able to nurse so far..." Um...what....
Yes, apparently it is nearly impossible to nurse a tongue tied baby. That would have been nice to know! The pediatrician assured us that clipping the tiny skin that tied his tongue would make nursing a breeze, and help the Piglet later in life with speech and teeth cleaning. OK, sounds win win.

We went to get the procedure done. Public Service Announcement, if anyone ever asks you to hold your 6 day old newborn while they cut ANYTHING on his body...tell them to shove it up their doctor ass. I held him, and he bled and screamed, and I cried hysterically. Once the blood bath was complete we went home to start our new breastfeeding chapter: "easy breezy" the Doctor told me.

Um..wrong again. It was like my baby forgot how to nurse. This new tongue freedom made him seem incapable of nursing! What!? Great, now what!? Why did I make my baby endure this horrendous surgery just to make it where he couldn't eat at all!!? ( Again, all things seem much more dramatic when you are exhausted from childbirth and no sleep, just FYI; and ya know..I am dramatic)

So, next comes the "lactation specialist."  Aka: Adventures in Boobyland. The doctor felt that a Boob Specialist would help our new found breast feeding issues.

The Hubs and I met the next day with a precious old lady, she was 78 years old, and told us she could help anyone get nursing right. So, for the next two hours, the Hubs sat awkwardly in a hard doctor's office chair, while a 78 year old grandmother felt me up, shoved my boobs around, shoved my baby's head onto my boob, it was just peachy.

While I sat there with my boobs out, she made conversation with the Hubs and asked him what he did for a living.  He explained he was a police detective. "Ohh, you must know my son"  She then gave a name of a fellow officer my husband did in fact know well. She then continued on about when she nursed him, and how she had trouble despite having large breasts..."  Then she turned to me and discussed some exercises I could do to help my milk flow. "You have to fluff the pillows, Honey" She said sweetly. Then demonstrating with her own boobs, she began "fluffing" her own boobs and shaking them around.  "Now Husband...pay attention, you can help her remember all these exercises"

I felt the Hubs crawling inside himself. If he could have made himself any smaller he would have become invisible. Not only was his friend and fellow police officer's mother feeling up his wife, talking about HIS nursing,  now she "fluffed" her granny boobs and asked him to watch carefully. The poor Hubs.... what had been seen could not be unseen.

We finally left the Granny Boob Fluffing session, and were instructed to go get two herbal supplements for me to take in order to increase my milk supply.  So, off to the Hippy Herb Shop.  I was greeted by the smell of patchouli and a cat roaming freely as I entered the shop. A lovely plump woman, who resembled Ron Wesley's mother in Harry Potter, greeted me next. She wore a macramé vest, and long broom skirt. Is this real? I asked myself. I awkwardly handed her a sheet of paper with the names of herbs written on them. She looked at the sheet, then lovingly looked up at me, and said "Ohhh, some one must be breastfeeding" Oh yay, more people talking about my boobs.  I left the hippy shop with $30 worth in two small bottles of herbs, which I was instructed to take 3 of 3 times a day....that is 18 capsules! Holy Hippy Boobs! What!?

Once at home, Piglet still had trouble nursing. I found myself crying nearly everyday over nursing. Finally we decided to just pump and feed him pumped milk from a bottle. And it is working fantastically. He is happy and fat, I am happy, and no longer crying from frustration or pain, and now Hubs can feed him at 2am...ok maybe not so happy for him :) Our lesson: just do what works for you, and follow your own gut when it comes to your baby.

Who ever thought I would do an entire post about Boobs! Ok...well maybe not that far fetched...I have no filter, as you know.

It is good to be back to blogging...I have missed everyone!


Sunday, July 21, 2013

The Hungry Hungry Hippo

 
 
So, he is here. Our little man has entered this world, and not without a little drama and stubbornness! I wanted to take the time to write our story down before I forgot so many of the details. 
 
Well, we were in our final days of waiting....every little pain I felt sent me into an involuntary "is this it" it was exhausting....not to mention that I was exhibiting every single symptom of impending labor for two solid weeks. Seriously, look up "signs of labor"...I had every.single.one. From dropped way way low baby, to dilation, effacement, head engagement, weight loss, lovely bloody mucusy show things (I know....not the kind of show we are used to :) ) I had it all for 2 weeks. I went to the doctor on Monday the 15th. I had elevated blood pressure, which concerned her, since my b.p. had always been spot on.  I had also been steadily bleeding for a week with no major contractions...so my doctor decided that we should induce the next day. I was elated! Yay, it was finally happening! I had hoped to go into labor naturally, but as with so many things as we went along through this journey of labor and delivery, I would learn that what I envisioned was not always gonna happen, and sometimes was not the best thing anyway.
I woke up at 3am on Tuesday July 16. I couldn't sleep, I was too nervous, and excited, and scared. We left for the hospital at 5:30 am.  I started Pitocin at 07:30, and my contractions started almost immediately. They were pretty painless at first, and I was determined to do as much labor as I could without pain medication.
My labor and delivery nurse was an amazing woman named Sandy.  I feel like some prayer I never thought to pray was answered in her. She was the most amazing nurse I could have ever asked for. I absolutely adored her, and she made the entire rough day so much easier. Like..".I want to figure out a way to stay in touch with her" awesome.  She said it was "meant to be" since her grandson shared the same name as our little man.
The contractions got stronger and more intense, and soon I felt like someone was trying to rip my butt muscles in half. That was me...I felt my labor in my butt....how appropriate. I remember referring to my bed as a "cage of pain" and asked to have it moved into a squatting position chair thing. (The beds in these birth centers are like Transformers!) That helped a lot.  I squatted and rocked for the rest of my unmedicated labor.  The contractions were coming stronger and longer and almost constantly.  The Hubs was so amazing through this.  HE stayed with me every second, let me turn his hand red and blue, and let me hang off of his shirt as I had a contraction trying to make it to the bathroom. If I wasn't convinced before, I am now, I have the most amazing man for a husband, and he is my source of strength.
I had read everywhere through my countless hours of research on labor that waiting as long as you could to get the epidural was best, and would allow your labor to progress faster. Basically I was under the impression that once I got my epidural everything would slow way down.  After about 3 hours of enduring my squatting, rocking, husband hand crushing labor, Sandy checked me.....I had progressed ONE CENTIMETER! WHAT!!!??? F- THIS!!! Give me the epidural.
So a doctor who looked like a 12 year old boy came in to give me my epidural, while I was in hard labor, with about 30 seconds between contractions, and he tells me "relax your back"....um relax your balls while I kick them! Anyway...he got it in an started the meds.... and my belly pain went away...but this new bizarre pain developed....it felt like someone was popping my left hip bone out of the socket repeatedly with every contraction... "Hmmm" He thoughtfully said. Let me try a different med.....still med number 2...still bone ripping pain. They tried rolling me onto that side to get the meds to pool, that just made everything come back and made that hip hurt more. Just as Sandy was easing me into accepting that this may be my fate, and what I must endure, he decided to try a third medication. This one worked. Thank you Jesus.
So then they gave me a break, and left me and the Hubs for about 30 minutes.  Sandy came back, checked me...I had progressed to 6 centimeters in 30 minutes with epidural...seriously. All that crap I had read about the epidural slowing it down...TOTALLY NOT TRUE...atleast for me. Sandy said it was because I was finally relaxed. I have no idea...all I know is it worked for this girl.  About 45 minutes later she checked again, and I was at 10. It was time....time to push....time for the big show!!!
So we started pushing. And it was the most difficult thing I have ever done. Apparently I have legs of steel, because I kept pushing with my legs (not supposed to, and I kept getting in trouble for it ;) ) but I was pushing poor Sandy off the bed, and the Hubs said it was like wrestling an alligator.  Little man didn't like the pushing and his heart rate kept dropping. So we had to go slow, and only push every other contraction. After about 3 hours of pushing, little man was just not moving as fast as he should. Then Sandy felt it...his arm and elbow...he had his hand on top of his head, and his elbow bend and crooked off to the side. So his elbow was stuck in my pubic bone...and he wasn't moving.
 
Sandy told me to rest, she would call my doctor over, and then she could decide what to do next. Once we were alone I turned to the Hubs. "I don't want a C-section" I tearfully said. He assured me, that if that is what needed to happen it would all be ok. He then leaned down and whispered to my belly, as he had done every day for the last 9 months " Son, move your elbow so Momma can have you"
 
My doctor arrived, she checked me, he had moved his elbow, and was about to crown...he was ready.
 
I pushed for another 30 minutes or so, and was so exhausted but so close. My doctor convinced me to bring in the mirror so I could see how close I was. ( I was little miss "OH God, I don't want a mirror, hell no") Well smarty pants little girl who has never given birth...you needed it, and it helped. I could see the whole top of his head. I was close. And with one more final push and some sort of guttural primal scream that my sister in law could hear from the waiting area...My little man came into this world.
 
They dried him off, and immediately placed him on my chest. I have never felt such joy, such amazing happiness, I have never felt so much love for something so tiny.  I wept. The Hubs and I met eyes, and we held our new baby together. It was the most beautiful moment of my life.
 
He weighed in at 7lbs 2 ounces, and was 20 inches long.
 
He had a pretty good bump on his head from being stuck. And his little elbow was bruised, and he is slightly tongue tied.  but otherwise, he is amazingly healthy and perfect.
 
We have nicknamed him the Hungry Hungry Hippo...because he wants to eat all.the.time! And you know what....breastfeeding is HARD. I will save all that for another post. But we are working it out, and I am battling through the pain and exhaustion of trying to breastfeed a tongue tied infant. (Apparently it doesn't affect him so much, but makes the mom experience more pain than normal when feeding....so I got THAT goin for me :)  I don't care, we will get through it together. I have an amazingly supportive husband who I love even more now that I did last week. He helps me feed, helps me pump, my God, he is super man.
 
I may be sporadic in my posting in the near future...it is because I am snuggling a baby...or changing his explosive diapers, or sleeping at 10am because that is the only time he sleeps.

 
 
Pictures do it more justice than I can with words....


And oh yeah...don't worry, it is still smart ass sarcastic me.... and to answer the burning question...No! I didn't poop on the delivery table! Score!





Monday, July 15, 2013

So uh..Honey...it is time


I am being induced in the morning
It still deosn't feel real.
My next post is sure to include pictures of a tiny little alien who is finally coming to meet us.
Stay tuned everyone.....

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

Something about Horses...

As the summer months march on, I am reminded to savor these last few days before the new baby arrives. The heat is sweltering in Texas in July, but by late evening, it is bearable outside.  We have been walking after dinner this past week, a tradition I hope I can keep up even after the baby arrives. At least once I recover. I think exercise, even walking, is so beneficial to bouncing back, and the fresh air out here where we live, well,  I think it would even be good for my tiny baby in his fancy stroller my lovely sister in law and brother gifted us with.

The Monkey and I went on a walk by ourselves last night. He does really well on our walks. He stays close and holds my hand, even wehn we both get all sweaty.  Summer for him has been tough so far. His lack of structure, and school have resulted in a sharp decline in his behavior and control of his autistic symptoms. It has resulted in me crying my eyes out, him crying his eyes out, and the Hubs often feeling like he is going to lose it if we don't figure out how to manage this. We tried looking into some options for structured autism specific therapy programs...but they are UNGODLY expensive, and our insurance company told us that they do not cover treatment for Autism.  So there we are right now.  Anyway, we keep pressing on, and these walks seem to help calm him. It gets rid of some of his excess energy, lets him be a little loud, and lets me focus on him and talk to him.  Soon enough, my focus will be shifted, that is just a fact, and I want to savor these times with him.

Last night we walked and talked. We talked about the life cycle of a butterfly, and the cartoons he likes, and the horses you see pictured above.

The younger, brown horse follows us as we walk and begs for attention at the fence. The Monkey is happy to oblige, and is not even the slightest bit scared. (Which is so surprising, given his fear of clapping, singing, crowds, noises, fireworks, dogs, you name it..) But a huge horse...no fear. His brain and how it functions differently than everyone else's fascinates me.


 
He walks right up to him, extends his little chubby hand, and the horse meets him half way. This young horse bends his neck and strains against the barbed wire to let this little hand touch his soft velvety nose. When the monkey shrieks and yelps, as his autism makes him do so often, the horse doesn't startle, he just accepts these sharp noises that have invaded our home for years now.  He even gently takes a few blades of dead grass the Monkey plucks up for him to eat, and graciously savors them. He plods along the fence line, following us, until his barbed wire makes him wait at the edge of his field for our return.

I love that I am raising my boys in an area where this is our view when we walk. I love the way nature and animals seem to recharge us, even when things are hard.  I will try to remember to take this journey one day at a time, and not be overwhelmed by adding a new baby to an already tough situation with autism rearing it's ugly head. And when it gets to be too much for me, I will try to remember, to just go out, walk in the warm air, and give this guy some attention.



Thursday, June 20, 2013

A Gift for the Nurses

As we continue to count down the days until our little Alien comes exploding forth into the world... I am finding little things to keep myself busy.

We went on our hospital tour last week. It was pretty informative, and although I had the distinct urge to pass out during the tour, I did soak up some of the information.  The main thing that shocked me was that the nurses do all the work...and the doctors get all the credit! Maybe the tour was slanted as it was given by nurses, but still.  Apparently your doctor won't really even see you until the baby is ready to come out; you know who gets you all the way through labor and to the point of no return?.... a nurse.  The unsung hero, the one who has been on her feet for 8 hours, and still has the patience to coax you through a contraction while you beg her to just kill you. Or at least that is what I have been told...

Many places suggest taking a gift for your nurses. They will be your round the clock family for about the most stressful 48 hours of your life. I figure if I can cry in front of someone and involuntarily poop on a delivery table in front of them, the least you could do is get them something nice eh? yes.

I debated on food...cookies, candy....been done. Plus, I wanted something that could sit in my car and not melt/ go bad/ whatever. It's not like when I am in the throws of labor that I will want to walk around and pass out homemade cookies to the nurses as I scream and poop. (just a fear...hopefully I won't poop, but knowing me, and the direction this blog takes so often...poop may happen) So, I decided to go with little hand sanitizers in adorable packaging.

Mini hand sanitizers from Bath and Body Works have been my go-to gift for awhile. I give them to the Monkey's teachers in cute Christmas themes, and again at the end of the year in fun summer scents. I give them as hostess gifts.  I love them because they are cheap-o ($1 each if you buy 5) and come in adorable little wrappers for almost every season. They make Christmas ones, Easter, Halloween, Summer, you name it.

I was thrilled to find these adorable baby animal themed ones when I visited my B&BW store this week. PERFECT!!!  So I bought a bag full. I popped them in a little bucket I already had lying around. I think it was like $1 at Target. I am putting a card with them expressing my pre determined sentiments of gratitude.  Once my little man is here, and the dust and poop have settled, I will have the Hubs run this easy to manage and transport little goody bucket over to the nurse's station for them to share. I hope they enjoy it. Hopefully they don't think "wth...I wanted cookies"

So, for the ladies who will be attending to my very enraged lady parts for two days...here ya go...a little Wacky Monkey Banana hand sanitizer for ya...please use before and after...thanks.

This is not sponsored by Bath and Body Works.... they have no idea I exist. And would probably not approve of my free use of the word poop in conjunction with their product.

Friday, June 7, 2013

Oh Texas Summer

We are all still alive over here, just settling in to the quiet madness that is summer in South East Texas.
{For the record, I don't like this picture...but after 3 tries of my hair looking weird, and me looking weird..this is what we got...oh well...}
 
I am still pregnant....shocker.... I am purdy huge, but my doctor is scheduling an ultrasound in 2 weeks to check the baby's size, and see where we are.  This came after a pointed conversation about my rapid weight gain recently, and how she wanted to check him for size "just to be sure" ....I got the feeling she might think he needs to come a little early...she didn't say that, just eluded...could totally be wishful thinking on my part.  She might let this whopper cook until late July, at which point I envision myself giving birth to a 13 pound Christmas ham who will wear 2T clothes upon his exit and break his little bassinet. What...? You know my flare for dramatics ;) And yes, I said rapid weight gain...as in I gained 4 pounds in 2 weeks. I haven't been eating crap, or even alot...in fact I eat waaay less now than I did a few months ago. Most days I don't feel that hungry, and when I eat, I get full really fast. I think it is due to the fact that my stomach is now most likely located in my left shoulder area...can't imagine there being room for it anywhere else. Anywho, I will have a long way to go to get back to my pre-pregnancy weight.   After this little alien is state side,  I think I will document that weight loss journey here on the blog.  I am hoping it will help keep me accountable, and as always, provide an outlet for my ramblings about jazzercise and protein shakes. I know...you just can't wait.

{Before he knew there would be singing and clapping...}

The Monkey "graduated' from kindergarten this week. It was a shit show. There are certain things that autistic kids, and particularly my autistic kid cannot handle. 1. Crowds 2. Group singing 3. Clapping 4. Being made to sit especially in front of a bunch of people. So naturally a kindergarten graduation complete with singing and clapping in front of 200+ parents was just a perfect way to spend his morning. Instant meltdown city. My sweet boy had to be carried off the  stage by his teacher while flailing and kicking after...ohhh......about 45 seconds of the program. It just got worse from there when she tried to give him a cupcake in his classroom. The nerve of some teachers.  But seriously, it does suck that he can't enjoy normal stuff like being in his first little program. It bummed me out the rest of the day, but once we were at home in our safe little bubble where we NEVER sing happy birthday or clap, and avoid crowds, my little man was fine.
 
Our rarely mentioned 15 year old, Sissy Bug, has done a fantastic job wrapping up her school year. While she made us agonize over her grades all year long, and required heated "discussions" into the night about grades and responsiblity; she managed to pull out the year with all A's and B's.  She also got perfect attendance, and "best actess" in her drama class-  complete with a little trophy. Yes, we live with a 15 year old who was given the best actress award.....we know how scary that is.  Now she is off for an adventure for the summer, leaving for 3 weeks to travel with her cousins and best friend. We will miss her, but I really hope she has fun. And it will be nice for me and the Hubs to have a little time to just chill ourselves. Teenage girls, even the most amazingly behaved ones, are exhausting.
 
Work has been busy for both of us, and has exhausted the Hubs this week. He looked tired down to his bones last night. Late night bloody crime scenes will do that to ya. We are both ready for some down time. Aside from helping my folks with a downed tree at their place, our weekend will consist of a whole lot of sittin, and whole lot of sippin sweet tea and trying to stay cool in Texas summer. I would also love to get some more fishing in. That has quickly become one of our new favorite ways to spend our down time.  I am excited about a weekend of nothing.

Thursday, May 30, 2013

The Bounty of My Back Yard

{5 eggs, 5 jalepenos, 2 tomatoes, 1 zucchini, and some salad greens}

The Hubs and I have big dreams for "Someday." Our dream is to someday have a small farm, where we grow vegetables and fruits, raise chickens for meat and eggs, have a few pigs for meat, maybe a cow for milk, and goats and donkeys mainly just for fun. We are working hard toward "getting there." But it is a slow road.
 
Our goal is to be content with what we have now, and continue to work towards our dream.  And what we have now is pretty exceptional.
 
We have a little 1/2 acre of land that we have been blessed to live on. We have taken this land from a barren, brown, drought parched mess, and transformed it into something we think is special. We have planted flowers, and a rose garden, and a vegetable garden, and built a chicken coop and a run for them to free range in. The Hubs built a bird feeder with his own hands and some scrap materials. This has attracted wildlife of all sorts to our back yard.
 
When we get home in the afternoons, one of the first orders of business is checking for eggs, feeding and watering chickens and dog, and collecting delicious edible produce we planted  and raised from seeds.  Our problems include determining how to keep a pesky gopher away from my zucchini plants, whether our chickens are molting or being mean and pulling each other's feathers, and how to keep a family of baby squirrels from popping the glass out of the bird feeder.
 
Now those are some pretty awesome problems to have.
 
To quote an Alan Jackson song: "It's Alright to be Little Bitty" And that is what we are. We have a little bitty piece of heaven carved out. And while life is a journey, not a destination, we will continue to try to appreciate our little piece of heaven until our bigger piece of heaven is ready for us. In the grand scheme of life, we are small, and our scope of the world is small, but to just us, we have everything we could need, and our joy is big.



Thursday, May 23, 2013

Shit just got Real

{Looking good sister...looking good}
(source- Loiusville Courier/ Money talk)


The Real Stages of Pregnancy:

So many books and websites sugar coat this whole being knocked up thing. This beautiful miracle they call it. I am here to give you a real pregnancy timeline as seen through my eyes....because, as you know, I am an expert on everything. Well maybe not everything, maybe just cookies and cream ice cream,  but you get the idea.

Weeks 0-5- You are pretty much blissfully unaware you are pregnant, then you get that panicky feeling like..wait..what day is it?...wait.....no...can I? No....  then you find yourself in the family planning aisle of Target debating over whether you should splurge on the name brand pregnancy test, or just get the cheap-o one, and hope for the best. (Get the cheap-o...you will end up taking 3 anyways, if you are nuerotic like me... I still have one under my bathroom sink because they came in a multi- pack. Now I have no idea what to do with it. I have considered peeing on it now and leaving it in some Walgreen's restroom, for everyone to find....just to freak everyone out and watch them try to find the person who couldn't wait to get out of the store to take the test.)

Weeks 5-12- You are so excited. You are telling everyone you  know, so many questions, so many books and websites to read.  You have purchased all the books, and get daily emails updating you on your baby that looks like a alien platypus and is the size of a grape.  oh, this is just so much fun, I am going to explode with baby excitement. (Oh just you wait skinny girl...you WILL!)

Weeks 12-22- You can't wait to have a cute pregnant belly, You are so excited it is starting to show. Yay! I'm gonna go buy cute adorable maternity clothes. Oh, was that a kick? I am not sure? I can't stop looking at my tiny cute baby tummy! Yay!

Weeks 22-29- You start to get a little more scared...Um, ok, so wow, I am getting pretty big now, um, even my maternity clothes are getting tight. Wow, this belly is not as cute anymore. Oh crap, I ripped another one of these stupid gawd- awful stretchy pants that have the quality of a fine dollar store dinner napkin and yet cost a fortune. I am really tired of every stranger I see asking me if I am almost due. And this baby kicks so much, wow, I love it, but I didn't know he would kick so much. I am freaking out that the baby will be here in only 18 weeks! Ahh! So much to do!

Weeks 30-40- You are D.O.N.E. Good God I am huge. I need new clothes, but I don't want to buy any. Oh well,  I will just walk around in my underwear, that works. Strangers keep feeling sorry for me, a Jamaican man in the frozen food section asked if I was carrying  triplets. My husband had a dream that I looked like Jabba the Hut....not far off. Oh please baby stop kicking me so I can sleep. Never mind, I just have to pee again. How many more days!?!? Are you serious?.... that is an eternity, get him out nowwwwwwww!


Thank you, have a nice day.

Monday, May 20, 2013

The Banana Pudding that Saved the Day

So...I was feeling in a bit of a slump last week. I couldn't quite figure it out, but I was feeling grumpy, like I was stuck in such a rut of work, pick up Monkey, go home, make something b-o-r-i-n-g for dinner, clean up, go to bed. I know, I know...so horrible to have  a good job, and ample transportation, and boring food to eat every night. I know, it could be so much worse. But, I am human, and sometimes I feel poopy even though my life is amazingly wonderful. I had a whole conversation about just this type of thing with my dear blog friend Leilani over at her blog in her comments. Check her out, I love her witty and insightful blog. Always good when you are all grumpy for no reason.
So, when I start feeling like this, I try to take a moment and examine what is going on, and for me, it didn't take long for me to realize why I was in a slump...food. Yes.  Me and the Hubs LOVE to cook and create, and try new recipes, but sometimes, like everyone, we get in such a rut of chicken breast and frozen veggies, that our creativity is stifled and we are left feeling unexcited about our food and the process of making it.
So...determined to "fill our cups back up" I made a decision...we need to make this week have fun to prepare and exciting meals, every night. It was as easy as making a menu ahead of time, and buying the ingredients. So...that is what I did. I consulted the Hubs as to what lovely creations he wanted to make.  Then I had a few ideas of my own; and together we decided on a menu we were excited about cooking AND eating. 


To kick start the week, I thought I would make something fun this weekend for no particular reason at all. I hadn't created anything super fun in the kitchen in a while, so when the Hubs mentioned banana pudding last week, I thought I can make that, and it will be fun!
So, I did it.  And I am no longer scared of meringue, it was easy. And we ate half the pan  in one day. (We have a teenager to help...but still)
 
This recipe doesn't require a lot of ingredients you don't already have on hand, and is very simple.

For the custard portion you will need:
5 ripe bananas, peeled and sliced
Vanilla wafer cookies
2 cups milk
3 tablespoons flour
1 whole egg
3 egg yolks
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 cup of granulated sugar

Prepare a 9x9 baking dish by layering the bottom with vanilla wafer cookies and then banana slices.

In a large pot combine milk, egg and yolks, sugar and flour. I whisked it all together then used a rubber spatula to continually scrape the sides and bottom as it cooked. Cook over medium heat, stirring constantly until it thickens. If you can draw a line in the middle of your pot and it "stays" it is ready.
(To quote Clark Griswold from National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation: See the line?)
 
At this point, add the vanilla and cook 1 more minute, stirring constantly.
Remove from heat, and spoon or pour mixture over your prepared layer of cookies and bananas. ( I like to spoon it on because pouring makes the cookies and banana slices float and move)
Now, place another layer of cookies and banana slices on top of the custard.
Set aside, and begin to prepare your meringue.

For meringue topping you will need:
4 egg whites
1/4 cup of sugar

Preheat your oven to 425 degrees F.
Beat the egg whites on medium speed until foamy, add sugar. (My husband's family apparently nicknamed this stage of egg white beating as "calf slobber"...so when it looks like "calf slobber", add the sugar...thanks Hubs :) )
Continue beating the egg whites and sugar until stiff peaks form.
 Like these:

 
Now you are ready to spoon your meringue on to the top of your layered pudding.
Pile it on top, careful not to work it too much, keeping the air in it is key, I swirled mine just a bit to make it have pretty places to brown in the oven.

Place in the preheated oven for 5 minutes. WATCH IT CLOSELY! This stuff can burn quickly, and if you are like me, and get side tracked, try to fight the urge. Once it is delicatley light golden brown on the peaks, remove from oven.

We served ours chilled a few hours later, but I like it warm also.


So, what are you doing this week to get out of your rut... come on, I know we all get in them ;)




Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Sweet Mother McCree!

Yup...and he still has 2 months left to go.....yay for Mother's Day.

Welp, it is that time again. Time for me to randomly spew forth strangeness that I find hilarious. I checked my blog stats today and found out my new key word searches that bring me traffic are "I think I have a tape worm" and  "Hot fat pregnant chick" "Toples easter egg hunting"

Seriously....

Someone is really Googling that? It makes me sorta creeped out to know so many bizarre perverts who Google things like "topless easter egg hunt" "hot fat pregnant chick" are viewing my site. I do feel sorry for the tapeworm people though. I would totally be freaking out if I really thought I had a tapeworm, and would just want to cry when I found this site mocking me and my possible parasitic demon possession. Sorry tape worm people.  Try Web MD, bet they will have better info. I am just an ass-hat who compares pregnancy to tapeworms...sorry I offended you :(

As for all you pervos who Googled Topless Easter Egg Hunts and Hot Fat Pregnant Chicks....stop being weird! Here is my advice for you: Google things like "how to talk to a girl" and "what never to say to a girl" and "why do girls find me creepy" those will benefit you son, oh and get a haircut and get a real job. Just a hunch...but I bet I am right. 

I am sort of offended and flattered that Google apparently thinks I am "hot, pregnant, and fat" all at the same time. That is a tough one to manage....but apparently I pull it off. Score one for me!

To save some semblance of sanity to this post, In honor of Mother's Day this weekend I thought I would compile a list of all the things I have said since becoming a mother that I never thought I would say.  Plus, this should be good for my Google hits!

Sometimes I wish I had my own reality show where someone followed me around with a camera, just so they could capture all these random things and compile them into a badass clip show musical montage.  Until A&E realizes I am so interesting....you will have to be content with my list.

Things Mothers Say that No One Ever Should

1. Do not use your hair as a napkin
2. Do not put that bacon on your scab
3. Did you just put Ranch on a banana?
4. If you bleed on it, please put it in the wash, not back with the clean towels
5. Take that other kid's shoes off your hands now
6. That is horse poop, not balls to play with
7.  Do not drink the chicken water
8. Do not karate chop the chickens
9. Do not feed the chickens grass out of your mouth
10. How did you get water on the ceiling...and on the light fixture? (The Hubs actually said this one)
11. Keep your pants on in Chik-fila this is a Christian Place!
12. Don't cook the baby
13. Stop licking your arm in public, people will think we are weird
14. You have to pick one: donuts or cheeseburgers, we certainly aren't going to eat both.
15.  Stop reading that book and do what I told you

Granted, some of these would only apply to country folk like ourselves, who's poor children have to figure out the difference in horse manure and a play thing, as well as appropriate chicken interaction....but hey....it will make 'em well rounded.

Happy Mother's Day everybody! Just remember this mother's day, when you receive a homemade flower vase made from an old milk container..... it could be worse...you could actually have a tapeworm....or have the kid who Googled "topless Easter egg hunt." See...don't I always make you feel better :)

Wednesday, May 1, 2013

He Can't be This Big

Today is my Mom's Birthday! As a birthday gift to her, I am blogging.  She recently reminded me that she checks my blog everyday, and I have been slacking...lol. So, for her, I decided to do some writing today. 
There hasn't seemed to be much to share lately. Nothing super creative.  Things are kind of quiet right now, the "calm before the storm" I guess, since my baby is due in 2.5 months. Work has been steady, and rewarding, but calm.  Home has been relatively drama free, and pretty routine and calm. The Hubs has even had a pretty light load lately at work, no crazy 5 day murderer chases. And no hilarious Monkey stories of him stirring the fish tank or coating his walls with baby powder. And then this morning, it hit me. He is growing up. That is why things are so much calmer, my little Monkey is getting big, and independent, and needing me less and less.

He gets himself up most mornings while I am in the shower.   He turns on his own cartoons, fixes himself a drink (with no spills AND a coaster under it I might add!) He picks out his own clothes by pushing this little brown leather ottoman around his room so he can reach his drawers and hangers. He even does a really good job matching his clothes. Granted, he refuses to wear anything new my mother has lovingly purchased for him, and is very attached to his old, slightly too small t-shirts. But, that is ok.
My little Monkey has Autism. I don't like to say he is "Autistic," because I don't like that to define him, because it doesn't.  He is so much more. I assume for many moms, having a 6 year old who can dress himself, get himself up, and fix a drink, is not a big deal. For me, it is huge. More and more, he doesn't need his Riri (what he calls me) to do things for him anymore. And today, for the first time, I felt the hurt.
I hadn't really let myself notice it before until this morning. I had been so busy being so proud of him for becoming so independent and self reliant, that I didn't notice the little hurt in me that he needs me less and less. When does that creep up on you? It just does, when you least expect it. As his speech improves every single day, he needs me to interpret him to the world less and less. Although, I still feel like no one can quite understand all his words as much as I do....just sayin.. ;)
When I first met my Monkey, he was tiny. He wore a bulky diaper that made his little booty stick out, and he didn't speak at all. He used sign language to communicate. I fell in love immediately. When his Daddy asked me to marry him, I knew what that meant. I wasn't just marrying the Hubs, I was marrying the little hearts he brought with him, and I was ok with that, because they already had mine.
{He is 3 here. Look at those cheeks}

The monkey is still small for his age, but his chubby cheeks are slimming, and his diaper booty is now a big boy boxer brief wearing one! He doesn't need me to lift him into the car anymore, he doesn't need me to brush his teeth anymore, he doesn't need me to change his diapers, or help him get dressed. Where does it all go? You blink and they are big. You spend your time praying, working, crying over the fact that this damned disorder won't let my little boy speak, or do things for himself, and pray that someday he will.....and then he does. And there you stand, so proud, so excited, and heart broken at the same time.
This morning, while I put on my make-up and the Hubs shaved his face, the Monkey wandered into our room and lifted a stuffed elephant rattle out of the basinet that sits and waits for our newest little man. My Monkey hugged the elephant and told me 'E, E is for Elephant" I told him that was going to be the baby's toy, but he could play with it too. I asked him if he was going to show his little brother all of his toys, and teach him about all the cool adventures his cars, and farm animals have. "He is going to need his big brother to teach him all about the cool stuff your toys do" I know he will. Monkey needs a playmate. Right now he is content to play with our old Bloodhound, and she is in love with him, like love of her life in love. He is content to ask me to play with him, and his Daddy is his best friend at the moment, but he will soon prefer the company of little friends, and kids his own age.
{She stands a vigilant guard while he plays}

Even with my little Alien who is in my belly, it is going so fast. He is almost here, and I feel like we just found out I was pregnant. It is going to go just as fast when he arrives, if not faster. And I can't make it slow down. I know there are going to be days that I pray to just "make it through" but those days will pass, just like all the others, and there I will be again, standing in my kitchen, realizing another little man needs me less and less everyday.
It is what we strive so hard as parents to do, to make our kids self sufficient, to make them self reliant, and independent and strong. No one wants their 10 year old still needing to be dressed like an infant. So tell me why it still hurts so much?
I told the Monkey the other evening that even though I am having this little Alien, he will ALWAYS be my baby, and he will always be my first son. He will always be special, because he is like no other  child or person I have ever met. And anyone who knows him, will tell you the same. He is like no other.

Momma, on your birthday, I want you to have a wonderful day. As I have journeyed through motherhood, in my strange, backward way, I have often told you, that I never understood so many things you went through as a mother. You just can't until you experience them. And now I know what it feels like. You tell the story of the day you dropped me off at kindergarten and I told you "bye mommy" and walked off; not scared, not needing you at all. And you cried all the way home. Well, I get that now. I get it. I am there. I am the one standing there, watching him walk away, fighting back tears and not knowing why.
{His birthday ribbon and pencil he got at school, he was so proud}

He will be finishing Kindergarten soon, and entering first grade in August. Someone please tell me when I jumped in the time machine with Doc Brown....I need to go back.