Save a Horse...

Yesterday's post was emotional, for me at least. I'm sorry. I'm doing better today in that I am just not so angry. But still a little emotional.

I decided to keep Cole home today because I need him close by, even if it's just as a tiny little annoying reminder of how blessed I am and how thankful I should be. We'll see how that goes as the day progresses....


But I'm fighting today. Fighting the tears and the pain, and the toddler who is crawling all over me as I type this post. But I'm just glad to be feeling his warmth, his joy.


I am also convinced that the peace I felt after being robbed has fled. And that's why I am feeling so emotional. So vulnerable.


Maybe sex would make me feel better. Like spontaneous sex. Weird. What is that? Spur of the moment sex. I can hardly remember it. Maybe that's what I'll surprise Hubs with tonight. Wait, me thinking about it, is that like scheduling it? Or should we save our energy for a few days from now, when we'll need it, because it's on the schedule.

-------

Ah,... who cares! I'm gonna shave and put my spurs on tonight!!!!!

Today I'm Screwed

Usually, this time of the month harbors hope for me. A new cycle and a new opportunity. But I'm exhausted. Exhausted of praying and hoping and crying and thinking and believing this is the month. I am just sick and tired of it.

I'm just tapped out. I am mad. and resentful. and I am losing faith. Because I hurt so much over this. And it baffles me that I still feel so alone. I haven't felt his presence in this. I know that I have wonderful friends on here that will talk me through this, once again. I hate it that they are burdened with this. I hate that this is all I think about. All I talk about. I hate being defined by this. But I do. and I am.

But tomorrow I'll pep up. I'll be better. Because I am fickle I guess. and I can't stay mad, even though I want to because I hurt so much. But that too requires energy, and have I mentioned that I'm pretty tapped out?

Then, in a few days, we'll force ourselves to have sex daily, or every other day at least. Because it must be done. Not because we love each other, which we do, but because it's just that time of the month. You know, the optimum time. And that's pressure, and pressure isn't ever any fun. Oh no, that kind of sex is a luxury-reserved for those who can get pregnant easily or quickly, or those who use condoms. So there isn't anymore of that spontaneity, that passion, because it's on the schedule-Aunt Flo's schedule-and there just isn't anything sexy about her. And that makes me mad too. And sad. Because the days for sex have to be reserved, because, you see, I'm all tapped out, even for that.  

So the cycle begins again. The ups and downs and in betweens. But today, I feel lost. And angry. And ashamed. And afraid. And hopeless. And desperate. And I think I just might need a hug. But I like my space. So I guess I'm screwed. -No pun intended.

Just another Manic Monday

Seriously crazy manic day today. Not even being sarcastic. And still, in the midst of it all, I feel peace. Weird. Where do I begin.

Cole slept in until past 9. I was elated because I slept in too. Yay for me! I dropped him off at school and then hit Wal Mart to buy some goodies for Halloween treat bags for Cole's school party Friday. Went home, returned some emails and worked on a project that was needing some major attention today. I got caught up and left about 7 minutes later than usual to pick Cole up. I was really pushing it to be on time. I NEVER pick Cole up late from school. NEVER. PERIOD. I would have made it on time except I didn;t account for an accident on the road and zero visibility due to rain. I was crying on the way to pick Cole up because all I could think of was Cole sitting there, in his classroom, all alone with his teachers, wondering where his mom was. I was horrified. Then I thought I was going to die because I couldn't see oncoming cars and I couldn't will myself to pull over. Sounds dramatic... I know. I am. And I'm not even kidding. I get super emotional when I think of Cole missing me. Then I tried calling the school and it was busy, busy, busy. So I thought the lights must have gone out and then I thought of Cole, all alone, missing me, with no electricity. So I almost start hyperventilating and I call Will, so he can calm me down,....in the rain on the street which I cannot see....

"Get off the phone and concentrate or pull over. They will understand. Be careful. Be safe." He tells me.

So I take a deep breath. All of my friends who are not Valley-ites tease the Valley drivers that get all twisted in the rain. That's me!!!!! Hi guys. But listen, in my defense, we don't get much of it. And then, when you add some cool weather into it, I just run around in circles like a dog chasing it's tail. I'm sure it's rather hilarious for an observer but in my world, in my head, it is terrifying!

I get to school and park the tank. Oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that my sweet sweet Hubs and Father In Law have taken my car to get the oil changed, the lock fixed, and the wipers looked at. So I am driving Will's truck. Yes, little ol' me in the big ol' truck. (I know you think you know where this is going-just wait...)

So, I park the truck. Then I back it up and go around the parking lot trying to get the best possible available spot that will get Cole and I the least drenched. I return to the original spot and park. Beautifully, might I add Honey. I glance around-....what to take down/ I grab Cole's raincoat, take off my thongs (not those), grab the umbrella, and throw my raincoat over my head. I dash out of the truck and when I arrive to shelter, I turn around and lock the truck up. It is 1:36 p.m.

I walk out and I'm feeling real generous, real Super-Mom that I decide I'm wet enough to share the umbrella with the father of a classmate of Cole's. Truth be told, I don't think I could have carried Cole, my shoes, his lunchbox, and hold the raincoat over my head. No way I could have maneuvered an umbrella too! So I say goodbye to the dad and decide that Super Mom is going to battle the rain.

I walk out talking to another mom I know from my etiquette classes. She sees where I parked and offers to watch Cole so I can bring the truck closer into the rotunda and spare some wetness.It's now 1:47 pm. I run to the truck and when I walk up to it I see that the window has been shattered. My purse is gone, my phone is gone, the rain is ouring into the truck, and my mind goes blank for a minute. It felt as if I had gone under water and then panicked. What the fuck just happened?????

I don't even know what to do, where to begin. I run back to Cole and Lisa to regroup. I tell her what happened and then I dash off because I am freaking out that the rain is coming in the direction of the open window. Move the car. I don't even give it a second thought. I run back to the truck and then I get there and I'm all like, "Fuck", how do I move this fucker considering there is glass on my seat? No time to think. must act. quickly. rain coming in. I throw my raincoat over the glass, I jump in, and move the truck. Umm, I wear glasses....they were drenched. I can't see with the fog, and the rain hitting my face, and arms, and legs, and tits....so I take them off. Oops, blind as a bat. I managed to move it closer and kinda behind a tree and it seems to subdue the rain some.

I get out and finally borrow a phone (Lisa was calling the police). Ironically from the dad that I lent the umbrella to. I called Will, no answer. It's raining, it's cold and Cole looks like he might cry any second now. Finally I get a hold of Will and an hour later, cold, wet, phone-less me is on my way to the bank to close out my account. By this time, I am in vehicle #3 for the day. My father in law's big ol' truck. I am shitting bricks on my way to the bank. Please keep us safe. Please keep us safe. Please keep us safe. Will takes his truck to get the window fixed, in his suit, in the rain, without a window, my sweet sweet Prince Charming.

Now, don't get me wrong. I have reinforcements who are all upset I didn't call them. But you see, phones were hard to come by. Those that had phones were calling my hubby, letting me call the banks, calling the police, etc.

So, all in all, my purse with my phone, camera, passport, and checkbook were stolen. Thankfully, I had spent the cash I had that morning at Wal Mart. (You're welcome Honey!). They took 4 debit cards and I got to 2 before they were able to but the other 2 they made a couple of charges at gas stations. Then I had one credit card that they also made purchases with at gas stations. But it is all protected and we are safe.

I am most saddened by the contents of the camera. I had offered to take pictures for a friend at her son's birthdy party and I had not had time to download them. So B will have no picures of his 3rd birthday party.

Also, last Friday I had ran into the 2 most influential students of mine. I swear, the 2 students I think of all the time, I ran into on Friday, in a classroom, 6 years later! I took pictures of them and I and they are gone. I am so upset about that. So upset.

Pictures might be few and far between. We are down a camera. The one I carry in my purse:(

*Sigh*

Tailgating

I didn't even tell you all that Cole had strep. He has no signs of sickness what-so-ever. We thought that Cole might have been exposed to swine so we took him in to get tested. Now, I love our pediatrician, Dr. Johnson. Just. love. him. Wanna know why? Because he indulges my narcissism. Yuppers. He does. Every time we go in there he says "Mira, look at how beautiful he is. Now imagine if you had a girl?"

Me, I give Will the nod. He nods back. That is sooo what we say! He totally gets us! Anyway, I found out that he says that to all the patients but whatever, I think he totally means it when he says it to us.

Then, this one time, at band camp when I was nursing, Cole was 6 weeks old and I called him because I was suffering from sleep deprivation PPD. So I had to call him to make sure he was comfortable with me taking the prescribed meds. He advised me that he would rather either that I stop nursing or not take the pills. Then he asked me how I felt about that. So I said that I would find another way to deal with it. Then he said, "That tells me what kind of mother you are." And seriously, it put it all into perspective for me. I so needed someone to acknowledge how hard I was working at nursing 24-7 and to tell me I was doing a good job. And of all things, at mothering! Then, that night, Cole slept through the night and I was fine after that. Guess I was just a lot tired!

Then, another time, we went in to see him and I insisted he was sick. Cuz a mother just knows. He asked me why I thought he was sick. My reply was that his poop smelled bad. (Yes, I know, again with the poop!) He looked up at me and smiled, "Only a mother would think that their child's poop ever smelled good."

"Aww" says the mother.

So, I love Dr. Johnson. We went in on Thursday to their night clinic which opens at 6. I arrived at 6:05. I was #27. We left the office at 10:45 pm. Cole tested positive for strep. Still no symptoms though, thankfully.

We had to kill time outside because there were 6 swine flu cases in that waiting room (we later found out). The whole time we were tailgating outside the Docs office. Will backed the truck up and we sat n the tailgate. We ate flower seeds, we drank juice, we checked our texts and emails. Cole got to ride his motorized four wheeler around the medical complex. We had a good time outside together. Too bad it took a Drs. office to do that. I suppose we can be thankful for that: family time. Oh, and no flu.

101 Things about me

1. I fear I will never have a daughter.
2. I fear I will never have another child.
3. I am the Queen of Too Much Information.
4. I am the Queen of Keep in Touch.
5. I hate gypsies-you know who you are? You don't return calls, texts, or emails!
6. I've been sued.
7. I suck at math.
8. and time
9. and I get my rights and my lefts confused
10. Don't even ask me about North East South West!
11. I swallow my gum.
12. I like to look into people's homes as I am walking in the neighborhood. Evening is best, when the lights are on and the curtains aren't drawn.
13. I believe in rounding up...
14. I am 5 feet tall
15. I have one child.
16. He was hard to conceive.
17. My father hung the moon.
18. My husband lit the stars.
19. My son is the light of my life.
20. My mother shaped my heart.
21. My sister helped fill it.
22. I am a card designer.
23. I am never satisfied.
24. I am a big dreamer.
25. I am an even bigger believer.
26. I have had many successes.
27. I have had many more failures.
28. I cried before I went to my friend's baby shower. Alot. Inconsolably.
29. I have always wanted to be a mother.
30. I love being a mother!
31. I wish I was a better mother.
32. I love to swing but never can because Mommies have to push.
33. I dream of having a Tahoe or a Yukon.
34. I would love to live on acreage.
35. I was a long jumper. Ironic, I know? See #14.
36. I wish to grow closer to God
37. I have never smoked pot. Or done drugs.
38. I did get drunk. When I was 2. Ask my mother about it.
39. I remember my dad licking his finger and then wiping the Kool-Aid off my lips before school. Yum, the smell of Daddy spit all day!
40. I cried on my way to work a lot because all I wanted to do was be home and be a wife and mom and daughter, and sister and aunt.
41. I stay home now and I cry because money is tight.
42. I am crying right now too because I just got the first few signs that Aunt Flo will be here soon.
43. I love going out to eat. Not fast food, but where I can be waited on.
44. I have absolutely no depth perception.
45. I wish I was a better sister.
46. I hate olives but I crave them.
47. I think Cinnamon gum smells like spit.
48. I can waste the entire day on the computer.
49. I am not thankful enough to my husband, afterall, he lights the night sky for me. See #18.
49. I can walk with the dog bowl in hand towards the dog food and six hours later realize that the dog has not been fed. See #78.
50. I aim at making my dad proud of who I am.
51. My father is my barometer of good character. If I have made my father proud, I am doing well.
52. I find that writing 101 things about myself is easy. I like to talk about myself.
53. I want to have a house in the East, where my children can have white Christmases.
54. I have only been drunk twice in my life. See #38.
55. I used to make my dad drop me off two blocks from school because I was embarrassed of our car. A baby blue...
56. I wish I saw more of my brother. I miss him.
57. I wish I saw more of my brother in law. I miss him too.
58. I was sexually abused as a child. Twice. But not by my parents.
59. I am so thankful that I have found friends who have inspired me to grow closer to God.
60. I wish I was more mysterious. See #3.
61. My favorite time of the year is Fall. It is when I am most happy and less susceptible to bouts of depression.
62. I have always wanted to be a surrogate. Maybe someday, if I can get past my own infertility issues. *Sigh*
63. I relish in a dirty home. They are signs that a child lives here. And for that I am thankful.
64. My mother in law and I are very close. She had to cath me 3 days after I gave birth to my son. In my home, in my guest bedroom. I wasn't even embarrassed nor did I think twice about it.
65. My husband is patiently waiting for me to finish my 101 things so we can have sex. See #3 again.
66. I love that my father is a man of very little words.
67. I love that my mother is so emotional.
68. I desperately want another child.
69. I secretly pray for twins or triplets just so that I never have to struggle with getting pregnant again.
70. I eat a bunch of crap and coke.
71. I look like I am 16.
72. I am 30.
73. I like it when people try to guess my age.
74. I like it even more when their eyes pop out of their head when I tell them I am a mother to a toddler and that I am 30.
75. I have been carded for lottery tickets. I was 25.
76. Obviously, I didn't win. See #41.
77. I have taught elementary and high school. Regular and special ed.
78. I am self-diagnosed Adult ADD.
79. I have been to Cuba and seen the marvels of life without Starbucks.
80. I studied abroad one summer in Innsbruck, Austria and hope to take my family there one day.
81. I have been with my husband for 13 years (14 in November!).
82. My husband and I are high school sweethearts.
83. I suck at math and may have doubled up on a number. Also, I may have done it just to sneak one more thing about me in.
84. I am a certified Etiquette and Protocol Consultant.
85. I had a hard time feeling like I lived up to that title.
86. I feel a lot of shame that I can't get pregnant. I struggle with this image that somehow I have failed even though I know it is beyond my control.
86. I think Cole looks like a porcelain doll when he sleeps. - Oh, and I cheated again.
87. I like to talk about Cole and motherhood a lot, hence the blog.
88. I need to spend less time on the computer and more time with my family.
89. Every year I tell myself that the next year my house will look and smell like what I feel Fall is. By the looks and smell of my house, Fall sucks and 7 children live here.
90. I am blind as a bat.
91. I love quotes.
92. I love lemon and salt on tomatoes and cucumbers but it's too much work.
93. Hmmm, I wish I hadn't cheated at #49 and #86. I am running out of things to say.....
94. I get giddy when I am away from Cole for a few hours and I am about to see him. I'm like a school girl waiting for Santa.
95. I love to meet new people.
96. I fought an iPhone purchase my husband wanted and now I wish we'd gotten them.
97. I'd like to be a Mac girl but I can't afford the switch.
98. I had a benign tumor in my right breast removed at 16.
99. My right breast is smaller than the left.
100. Tomorrow I will be pissed that I didn't think to put something down and change a few of these.
101. I had sex during the making of this list. HeeHee. Fingers crossed! See #s 1, 2, 28, 42, and 68.

A Very Wealthy Life

This is the place where we admit it all. Where we say what we can’t say to our friends at the playground. To our neighbors at a backyard barbecue. Where we coddle the voice that sits within. The one that whines in frustration at all the chores and the failures. The deeds undone. The lives we don’t have. But we want. The people we see inside ourselves. But can’t always become.
This is the place where we try not to portray ourselves as someone in particular. We place no judgment. We find no fear. We look for resolve.
This is the place. Where I am most me.
And perhaps this is what is most scary. About being a mommy. That motherhood requires this place. For me. Right now. A secret world of blogs and tweets. Perceptions unveiled. Truths revealed. Melodies sung among a harmony of sisters online. Women. Mothers. Caretakers.
And I am just one woman.
I’m not scary smart. I don’t have a superior IQ. I’m not scary beautiful. My face bears no resemblance to an Italian Renaissance sculpture – except for maybe its pallor. I’m not scary gifted. I have no defining talent. No artistic outlet or craft, nor study nor hobby that regularly distracts me from the mundane. No natural ability that defines me in any sense. Besides parenting, that is. And everything that “parent” connotes.
I’m not scary emotional. I’m not scary stylish. I’m not scary mommish. I’m not scary conservative, or liberal, or bland. I’m not scary obstinate, nor scary lame. I’m not scary rich. But I’m wealthy. Yes I’m oh very scary wealthy.
Because,
you see,
there are these children.
These, them, those guys over there. Yup, right there. The ones that are tackling each other in the next room. I have them. They are my weakness. They breed my weakness. And I have no trouble admitting to it. Any of it. My love for them and my contempt. My anger and dismay about everything they take from me and all that I am not because of them. My ache and joy and every wish for everything they hope for and deserve.
Because of this scary, scary wealth, I am very scary honest. This, above all else, is what makes me a scary mom: my need to breathe honesty and truth about everything and all that I have become since children poured from my womb and broadened the capacity of my heart to love.
I struggle with this need for transparency. This need to explore the depths of emotion brought on by mothering three children. By raising my boys in the best way I know how. With trial and error. With great failures and even greater successes. I don’t need to list all that I do wrong. Nor tag all my flaws. They are there to be seen. I curse. I cry. I crave freedom. I expose it all for the world to see. And though sometimes I fear what the world sees in me, I fear not what I see in myself. It is my sole reason for truth. For honest emotion. For honestly writing about these emotions.
I need to be everything that I can be. This is my only shot. I am their only mother. This “gig.” This oh so overwhelming gig of motherhood. Caretaker. Mouthfeeder. Nurturer. Hugger. Kisser. Keeper of the hearts in this home of ours. It is a tall order. To fill it is daunting. I’m not sure I know how. Will ever know. Should even strive to know. What I do know is I put one toe out there and let the rest follow along. I have to trust that what I am about to do is all that I can do in any given moment, and yet remember that there is always another way to do it, and I am not stuck. And I can always just stop, and give someone a hug. And admit I am often clueless. And move on. And try again.
What I hope is that this honesty enriches my life – and the lives around me. That giving this of myself will be a model for my children. That they will see how hard I work to share my truest thoughts with them and the people that I love. And that no one will hold it against me that I’ve found a small niche of the universe to share it with.

I can't take credit for the super awesome writing above. It was written by Sarah of Momalom blog.


As I sit here I so wish I had the courage and the brains to have come up with something so honest and inspiring. But how true it is. I write in my blog and I write for my child, I write for my husband, I write for my sanity, I write for my memory, I write for my grandchildren, and their children....BUT I find that I censor myself for fear of alienating someone.

When I had first started blogging, I had a friend that had listed me as one of the blog she follows. So I quickly made sure I was following her on my sidebar and that people knew I was reading her blog. Then one day, as I was reading her blog, I noticed that she had taken my link off. I was worried that I had said something to offend her. Because occasionally, I cuss, because I am a potty mouth, because it feels. so. damn. good! And I started cheating myself. Censoring myself. And sometimes I would think of clever things to say, things that sooo defined me, or moved me, or inspired me, and I couldn't. And now I wish I had. Because I want my son to know me for ME. Because in this chaos that is life as a mommy and wife, I don't always have time to censor myself. So when Cole thinks back and can't remember Mommy ever saying "What the French Toast" it doesn't jog his memory. So today, Mommy is saying, without any fear of being honest:

"What the Fuck! Put my link back on your damn blog!!!!"

And also, if you ever say fuck and damn, I will never buy you another car or truck. Ever. You hear me Cole? Now get to bed damnit!!!!

And also, thank you to those that read my blog and continue to read my blog after I said fuck and damn over and over again. That was liberating!

..........

Hello.

You still there?

Anyone?

Anyone?

Fuck!

Slave-driving Toddler

Monday Cole started opening and closing the fridge and freezer all by himslef! It is not an accomplishment we are happy about. Proud yes. Happy,... not so much. Getting him to stop asking for white ice cream and ice pops just got harder.

Also, Cole woke up last night 4 times puking. He puked in every one of our beds because we are idiots and kept shuffling him around from bed to bed after a throw up session. No need to worry guests, we have mattress protectors!!!

We finally smartened up and let him sleep on the kitchen floor-just as he'd requested. And guess what? He didn't puke again. Oh, and I slept like $hit. But he is doing fine. Just a bug I suppose because to my complete and utter dismay, he was fired up and ready to go this morning. I was tired and wanted to take the day off but my boss, as usual, denied my requests. Toddlers can be such slave drivers!

Goodnight all! I still have some puke-y sheets and bedspreads to wash!

We'll see you soon Ivy!!!!

I am so excited about the weekend plans!!!! My friend Ivy, from St. Mary's University is visiting from China!!!! She moved back after graduation and I haven't seen her since graduation. She did the Cuba travel and study group with me. {Ooh, I have to post about my trip to Cuba!!!} She is squeezing me into her schedule. Super yay for me!!!

Actually, to be quite frank, she dotes on Cole. She affectionately refers to him as Little Cole. Shortly after Cole was born, she said she wanted to meet him. I always tease her because she said I should send him to her like via UPS or something. To this day I don't let her live it down. But she is like a very far away aunt that just adores Cole. And what mother wouldn't just dote on anyone who dotes on her littles? Not this one. She always asks after Cole, before even asking after me and it's so nice to be invited to talk about your littles. Usually, I have to steal opportunities to talk about Cole...

Really. I'll be at the supermarket and somehow I can manage to walk out having told 3 people a funny story about Cole. Ok, that's exaggerating, but I am one of those annoying people that you want to roll your eyes at and ask to shut up. Yeah, I'm that mom. Thanks for not bitch slapping me everyone:)

So, my point is that I get to see Ivy and she won't bitch slap me. Yay for me!

The picture above was taken in Cuba, at the house of Ernest Hemingway in front of his boat. I totally forgot we went there...

Haute Mama

Seriously, imagine being pregnant and looking like this (at 34 weeks!!!!):Does this not look like the work of the photographers and models that grace magazines today????Let me just tell you that this model and this photographer grace the Rio Grande Valley! Do I not have some talented and beautiful friends????

I will not reveal who my friend is (and if you know please don't say!!!) but I will reveal the marvelous lady that captured these shots. Her name is Melissa Rodriquez of Melissa Rodriguez Photography. I have mentioned her before on my blog. But what a neat idea for this session! Model was a wee bit shy about the "Maternity Boudoir" theme and she did get the traditional shots as well. But Melissa wanted to try something different on for size and I am so glad she did and that her model obliged. Because it's just pure art and how in the world can you keep that a secret?

If you're pregnant and want to capture these precious moments in the beauty and glory that it is, call Melissa!

So sadly, I have never had professional pictures taken because of that whole being poor thing. But if I get pregnant and look like that, I am selling my newborn to get these shots!!!!!

That was just a sneak peek. Click on the picture and it will take you to Melissa's blog and you can see the rest. Really! What are you waiting for? They are fantastic!

I have something to tell you.

I am constantly amazed at how brilliant my child is. I know every mother says this, but this time it's for real. My kid is like super duper manipulative smart.

Hunny Buns was watching tv, sipping on a beer, I was where I ALWAYS am (um here, duh!), and Cole was climbing the barstools.

Cole: "Daddy! I'm stuck! Get me down."

Daddy: "You got yourself up there now you get yourself down."

Pause.

Cole: "Mommy come here! I have to tell you something!"

I get up and walk over there. Not because I worry but because I am dying to know how this is going to play out.

Me: "Did you have something to tell me?"

Cole: "Yeah....Look Mommy. I'm up here... Now get me down."

Talk to me Baby!!!!

I love it when readers leave comments. I especially love it when people chat with me. Sadly, sometimes I am away from my computer and I'll miss the chat alert. It might be because I am cleaning flour, juice, or pee...all in a day's work (see yesterday's post). But I hate it when I miss someone.

Will had gotten home early yesterday and when I finally got back on my computer I found a chat that I had missed from an anonymous reader.

"Hi! I don't know you but I like your blog. I got it off of another blog who said you were one of their fav. I think your stories are so cute and funny! I am new to the whole blog world...I pray you are feeling better. Your son makes me laugh."

So I just wanted to shout out to anonymous and say Hello and Thank You for your prayers! I am sorry I missed you but please please keep coming back! Please. Pretty please, with some flour on top?

Sp please feel free to leave a comment or chat from the little tool on the right of the screen where it says Message me will ya?

Oh, and by the way, I think my son makes me laugh too,... and cry, and swear....

Dough Boy

I was sick as a dog Sunday. I stayed in bed ALL DAY. I mean All. Freakin'. Day. I have the best husbnad and mother in law ever. They watched Cole for me and let me get better.

Monday rolled around and I was feeling much better but still tired so I pleaded with the boss to let me take it easy that day. My toddler was all like REQUEST DENIED!

So I gave him his cheese slice. Then he said he wanted apple juice. Having been sick the day before, there were no clean sippy cups. So I gave him his juice in a cup, with no lid because pulling out a straw would have proved too strenuous. He spilled it conveniently next to the dirty towels pile that didn't get washed also due to said sickness.

Fine, just a little hiccup in our day. So I decided to check my email and reply to a few clients and Cole was standing behind me, leaning on the couch. I heard liquid hitting the tile floor. Before I can even turn around, he says gleefully, "Mommy I gotta go potty." So I turn around and sure enough, he's standing in a puddle of piss. So I give him a "mini bath". Just hose him down and get him dressed.

I sit him on the couch for Cars to babysit him while I bathe. I am in the shower and he comes in and says "I'm hungry. I want pancakes."

"Be right out to make you some, love." Yeah. I'm still surprisingly chipper because I'm all doped up on NyQuil and Robitussin and antibiotics.

I get out and get dressed and I walk into the kitchen to find a reenactment of this. Remember the Powder Room fiasco? Well I do, because I'm still cleaning it! That's right! 3 months later I still find little mounds of baby powder in Cole's room.

Silver Lining - something to blog about. "Quick Cole, smile for the camera!"



Those towels on the floor are from the apple juice I had cleaned up. The clothes is from the laundry that was being washed as the sickies struck.

Will got home and Cole was spinning circles around him. Like really trying to get dizzy. He was yelling and just being wild. Full of energy. Will looks at me bewildered and asks, "Has he been like this all day?"

If he only knew!

My Only Obstacles

I got a Newsletter just today and I opened it up and read:

Reaching a long distance location is as easy as 1,2,3: Buy a ticket, pack, and fly! Time and the looming question of, "When would I possibly be able to break away from my current daily responsibilities to enjoy such an adventure?" are my only obstacles.

and I thought to myself:

"Self,... if time was your only obstacle, you'd be living pretty darn good!"

"Are your parents home?"

We get almost daily visitors to our door trying to sell us lawn mowing services, cookies, windmill electricity, meat, etc. I hate opeing the doors. I never, and I mean NEVER answer the door. I usually have to corral Cole into one of the back bedrooms and "hide" out. Seriously. No kidding. I scatter as if immigration has come for us.

So anyway, I have this fear of strangers at the door. It started when I was pregnant and somebody said how people have their babies stolen from them towards the end of their pregnancies. Come to think of it, it was a Lifetime movie. I like Lifetime...

But it really gets to me because they always come and ring the doorbell like 3 times, like if they were being called down to play on the "Price is Right". Oh, and did I mention that it usually happens during nap time? Well, of course it does.

9 times out of 10 I don't answer it. But lately, my little monkey has become quite the host. He usually yells "Who dat is?" at the door. Then he tries frantically to open it. So I can't hide. I have to open it. And then they have the audacity to ask me "Is your Mom or Dad home?"