Aunt Becky's Adventures

Last month dear Aunt Becky went to BlogHer. Unfortunately, she consumed one too many of these:

Passed out and was unable to attend the second day. There by leaving her with WAY too many business cards and no one to give them to. (Ok... so maybe her son got sick and she couldn't go back the second day... details... details....)

Being the kind soles that we are, Miss Katie and I volunteered to take Aunt Becky's business cards around town with us to show them a good time.

First things first, we attended my divorce party. While I look three sheets to the wind in the picture I assure you I was not. (Possibly only two.... What can I say... the water goes straight to my head....)

After the divorce party Becky's business card was just DYING to try riding a Harley so off we went into the sunset.

Since the divorce party the card has just been lounging around my house. Eating chips, drinking beer and generally refusing to pick up after it's self. Until this weekend, when it headed out with Katie and I on its next great adventure:

The Iowa State Fair

We made sure we arrived bright and early so that we could see all of the big items the fair is known for.

First we had to stop for JR mini donuts. Because NO fair experience is complete without a bag of donuts. 23 mini donuts... to be exact... but who is counting.... Of COURSE I didn't eat all of them. I would never be THAT woman... (And moving on....)

Next up on the list was a trip to see the world famous butter cow. Made with approximately 600 lbs of butter which would butter approximately 19,200 slices of toast.

Every year, in addition to the butter cow they also scuplt someting else in butter. There was a large controversey this year when they announced that they wanted it to be Michael Jackson. This controversey eventually lead to an on-line vote in which Michael Jackson was voted out. So instead, we got Neil Armstrong in honor of the 40th anniversary of the moon landing.

After seeing the butter cow Becky's card was so jazzed up about the fair that it wanted to pretend to be a cow. And of course, who are we to turn down such a request:

While it was at it, the card also decided it wanted to have its picture taken in this lovely sign. Ad for milk, or breast feeding ad in disguise.... you be the judge....

The next stop on our tour was to see the big bull. Because really... what trip to the fair is complete without seeing amazingly large livestock? And this one, happened to be the largest bull in state fair history weighing in at 3,378 pounds.

After the bull we mozied on over to see the big boar. We came across this sign in his barn and couldn't pass up the opportunity for another photo moment.

The largest boar was over 1,000 lbs and didn't move much from this position:

Although, I'm not sure he was very amused by the other half of that sign, right next to his pen....

After the bull and the boar we rounded out the card's large animal experience with the largest sheep.

Then it was on to the petting zoo. The card LOVED the camel:

But by far its favorite animal was the Zedonk:

Overall I think the card greatly enjoyed its trip to the Iowa State Fair with Katie and I. It was almost as good as Becky being able to be here in person. (Maybe next year... hint... hint....)

The card would just like to leave you with one final parting message:

Friday Confessionals

I'm dating someone.

He's meeting my parents on Sunday.

At the Iowa State Fair (only in Iowa people....)

Eeeek!!!

WW: My Daredevil

Tuesday Talks

Are you done?

No Mommy... **sigh** (possibly an eye roll)..... I'm waiting for my poopie to come out.

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On the upside... Four days... no accidents. Dare I say we might be potty trained or will I be stricken down by a pile of wet undies when I go to pick him up tonight??

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For curious J who asked me a dozen and one questions the answers are up Through the Looking Glass as well as a few new posts.

New Bedroom

The bedroom set and new bedding arrived on Friday and Saturday while I was at the State Fair:

Friday Confessional I didn't post: I have an unhealthy LOVE of the Iowa State Fair!!

The amazing Miss Jessica came over and rearranged my room so it looked all beautiful when I got there. The result, it doesn't even look like the same room.

I'm hoping that this will help me to be able to sleep better at some point. I think that point might have been last night if I had gotten to bed at a decent hour. (Story for another day.... LOL)

Thank you Miss Jessica!! I LOVE it!!!

Thursday Thoughts

I haven't slept well in a week. I lay down, I close my eyes, I drift off but my brain... it NEVER shuts up. I have seen 2 AM so often this week it's not even funny. In fact this is getting damn ridiculous. Every night with the dreaming and the nightmares. Give it a rest already... really... isn't that what sleep is supposed to be?? Restful??

My new bed arrives on Friday and the wonderful Jessica has once again agreed to be my decorating extraordinaire. I'm hoping that with a new bed and a new look my room will once again become a place of rest and not a place of unrest.

So tell me dear Internets.... in your most admirable psycho babble.... do you think this will go away? Will I eventually sleep again? (Keep in mind if you tell me know I may have to hunt you down..... and I mean that in the nicest, most loving way possible... really.... :-)

WW: Sleeping Arrangements

February 16, 2007 - 1st time in Crib

December 22, 2007

April 29, 2009 (the Tent came off and the railing went down)

August 10, 2009

Lest you think I'm completely insane... the view from the hall way. :-)

Tuesday Talks

There are lots of people on the road.

Yes there are.

Hey, I'm a people....

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Now I can get out of my bed all on my own. Just like Hanah.....

(What have I done??)

My "tattoo"

Thank you all for the feedback on the tattoo situation. That decision has officially been tabled for a month or two whilst I mull it over some more. For right now I want to talk about a tattoo of a little different nature.

A tattoo, by design, is a permanent mark on one's self, a marking made by inserting ink into the layers of skin to change the pigment for decorative or other reasons.

I have tattoos. SEVERAL tattoos. But, my tattoos are not on my skin, they are in various places in my house. Something that has changed the makeup of my house, not for decorative but for other reasons. And I want them removed.

Let me explain. When you enter my house you will see my washer and dryer. A design flaw really, or more like a lack of design since my house was built in 1892. So there they sit. If you look at my dryer you will immediately notice that there is a large dent in the front of the dryer door. That is a "tattoo." A permanent marking made my Jake's head connecting with it in a fit of rage that I would like nothing more than to remove.

Those markings are in various places in my house. They are visible and not so visible. Take for instance my couch. When you look at my couch you probably just see a couch. Unless you try to sit on it, then you will see the world's most uncomfortable couch and if you don't sit carefully you will also see a wood beam connecting with your.... well you get the point....

Anyhow, when I look at that couch I see the "tattoos." There is a hole in the fabric from when he burned it. The bottom is torn out from where he stashed his pipes and beer bottles. The back fabric is ripped for the same purpose. I can still see him passed out on that couch. That couch and I we are not friends.

Today, I went to the furniture store and I ordered a new couch. I'm not really quite sure I should have spent the money but I'm also pretty sure I don't care. I am paying for tattoo removal and it is worth every single penny.

So is the new bed that I ordered on Saturday. You see Jake took the waterbed in the divorce. It used to be his parents waterbed so in the spirit of all things nice I offered it to him and he took it. At first I was a bit pissed about this. Not really because I wanted it but because I am sleeping in it and he is just going to put it into storage.

I considered going into the attic and trying to rescue my old waterbed, or asking my parents to take the one out of my old room. (I have slept on a waterbed every night since I was about 10 years old) Instead I decided perhaps it was time to make new memories. So off Zack and I went to the furniture store to look for a new bed.

At first after I bought it I was a little nervous. Then today when I bought the bedding and the couch I was a little more so. Should I really be spending the money. Do I need it. Then something hit me.

In seven years I have never, ever had anything new that is all mine. For seven years I have been so busy making sure he had his new bow and arrow, new shot gun, second new shot gun when he lost the first one, fixed the jeep, fixed it again, another new jeep (did I mention at one point we went through three jeeps in 4 months), etc. etc. that I have never taken the time to buy anything big for just me.

And the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to cry and now, I am so excited you might find me dancing around my house. I couldn't be more excited if I was 10 years old and I just found out I was getting a pony for Christmas.

A new bed, new bedding, a new dresser delivered on Friday and a new couch delivered sometime in the next month. All steps towards making the horrible memories go away. All steps towards permanently removing those "tattoos."

Friday Confessionals

I have been more happy in the last 6 months than I have been in the last 6 years.

I have been more happy with myself and who I am and how my life is in the last two months than I can ever remember being since I was a kid.

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When someone survives something like I did, sometimes there is a tattoo to commemorate the event.

I always wanted one but got a bad taste in my mouth for them during my relationship with Jake. Now that it is over, the idea of a tattoo is intriguing to me. However, the thought of getting one absolutely terrifies me.

So dear readers.... thoughts on tattoos......

For them, against them and what the hell would I get if I was getting one?

Discuss amongst yourselves......

Thursday Thoughts

When your friend tells you she has something planned that you can't back out of and you can't bring your camera to don't rack your brain for a million years because never in a million years would I have guessed she was going to put me on a motorcycle.

2 hours of riding, wind blown hair, not a drop of alcohol added up to the best celebration of my freedom a girl could ask for.

Since I couldn't have a camera, Katie took these pictures for me of the big event. Perhaps I should just clarify for those of you who don't know me in real life. I lived in a box. A little tiny ring box. I was the least adventrous person you could EVER imagine!! My entire life was about avoiding things that could possibly kill me... like motorcycles!!

HOWEVER, I showed up and shut up just as I was instructed and the poor, poor man who had to drive me around will only be deaf in that one ear for a little while!! :-)
Dave and I on the motorcycle (sorry ladies... he's taken....)

Me, pretending to drive... NO I did not actually drive. Are you crazy??

You Are Only As Sick As the Secrets You Keep

This post is going to require a disclaimer. First of all, I apologize in advance for the length. There are a lot of things I have to get off of my chest. Also, this post, by it's very nature is ugly. There are no butterflies, roses or pink poodles. It's raw, it's real and it hurts. 99.9% of this raw emotion has been placed "Through the Looking Glass." .01% of it is now spilling over here.

This is deep. Read it when you have the time to feel it. If you are my mother, my father or another member of my family, you might want to skip it.

Finally, please do not leave me sunshine and roses comments about this. What I'm putting up here is raw and ugly. I'm aware of that and I'm reserving the right to spend one post raw and ugly. I can go back to being the pinnacle of positivity tomorrow.

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Today my divorce was final. Today I close a chapter of my life that I wish I had closed years ago. Today I was set free in one way but have never really been freed in another. For those of you who have been following me elsewhere you know what I am referring to. For those of you here, let me fill you in on a few things.

When someone writes a blog, they tell a story. Whatever they want that story to be, is just what it is. If I want to tell you part of the story you will never know one way or another. All you know is what you see.

This blog is, for the most part, a happy place. Bright colors, fun stories, happy family.
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My life, for the most part, was not this blog.

My life was dark and ugly and filled with negativity and fear. I was that woman you see on the lifetime movies who puts on the act for her family but lives her life in fear of her husband.

I was the woman who would do anything not to be alone. Put up with anything to be with this person I was "in love" with.

Until one day, several months ago, I just couldn't do it any more.

We have a slogan in Al-anon: You are only as sick as the secrets you keep and I can't keep these any more.

I found this video a couple weeks ago and I wanted to put it up here but I couldn't. It felt too dark, it felt like it needed explaining and I didn't think I could do that then. This singer is not well known in the US but this song speaks to me. This song is my life and I want to share it with you.



When I first heard this my heart stopped. My breath caught in my chest and all I could do was stare at the video as I watched it play. I was angry for the woman in the video and I was angry for myself.

You see that woman........ she was me.

The part of my world that I left out here is the part about me being a battered woman.

The part about me being so sick inside myself that three years ago I would have done just about anything so Jake would not leave. The part that I left off here was that I was just as sick as him. That despite what I wrote here my life was one never ending nightmare.

I remember the arguments. I remember being thrown down. I vividly remember being picked up and thrown across his parents kitchen. Being picked up and thrown across our front lawn. Being shoved down in an struggle over car keys and drug paraphernalia. Being attacked while I slept in order to get access to those same car keys.

I haven't slept in a month because I am haunted by visions of what happened. I remember being tackled to the ground while he told me that he would kill me before he would let me leave. I also remember staring down the barrel of a loaded shot gun and watching him pump it thinking he was going to make good on that threat.

I remember the phone call from the bank telling me that he had cashed a $700 check. I remember checking my bank balance on-line and seeing two more just like it and wondering what the hell I was going to do. (Not once, not twice, but I believe on three seperate occasions)

I remember covering for him. I remember borrowing from one credit card to pay the negative balance in the bank and the stolen checks from his dad so he wouldn't press charges. I remember borrowing money to pay off drug dealers. Meeting one guy in the parking lot of a gas station so he would stop calling and threatening to kill him.

I remember the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach every time he would peel out of the driveway and I remember even more the panic attack I had every time I would race down the stairs, out to my car and try to follow him. Chase him down. Make him stay where he clearly didn't want to be.

I remember screaming into the phone at his father the night he ripped me from my car and tried to run me over. I can vividly remember the look in his eyes when he ripped the keys from the ignition and I can see him hitting my car, pushing the unlock button while I sat in the drivers seat frantically pushing the lock button until he stuck the key in the door and then ripped me from the car.

I remember his dad trying to hug me and my legs giving out, standing there in the parking lot trying to figure out what the hell had happened to my life.

I remember trying to make it less than it was. Lying to the police, lying to my parents, lying to everyone. Just wanting it all to go away so he wouldn't leave. So I wouldn't be alone so my life could continue in this perfect little show I was putting on for everyone.

I remember being on my honey moon and going flying down a hill because he didn't get his way. I remember what it felt like to be on the other side of that door when he was pounding to ask me if I was ok. If I would just open up, if we could fix this... it was our honey moon after all.

I also remember being on the other side of that door when it was broken down. I am on my second bedroom door. The first one was kicked in. I am on my third bathroom door. In my head I can still see his fist coming through the bathroom door. It was like a scene from a horror movie only it wasn't a movie, it was my life.

I remember spending my entire pregnancy alone. Every belly picture, taken with a timer, every doctors appointment except two attended alone. All the planning, all the happiness I was supposed to have, gone.

I remember being 7 months pregnant on Thanksgiving day trudging through a field in the snow, climbing barbed wire fences all in an effort to find him and make him come just so no one would know what was going on.

I remember being alone in a hospital room with my son, only four hours old, not having any idea where my husband was and being angry that I had to stay there instead of being able to leave and chase him down. I remember lying to everyone, telling them he was out pushing snow, running errands, anything to never let them know the truth.

That I was alone.
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Alone and scared.

I remember him being pulled from a hotel room with a prostitute on the night he was committed and me spending all of my time trying to justify to everyone that they were just doing drugs in the room. They didn't sleep together......... except for the part where they did.

I remember being head butted and back handed. I remember him spitting in my face, calling me names, and the pure hatred that spewed from his mouth during every argument we got into. He may not have been violent sober but his mouth did all of the hurting during the last two years.

I remember there were moments when I just wished he would lash out because I thought that it might hurt less to have him hit me than it did to hear him call me names and tell me how much he hated me.

I remember every little bit of this and so much more and as much as he or his family would like to pretend it didn't happen, it did. And it makes me angry. So angry that I want to kick and scream and yell. So angry that for so many years I was told to just act like it didn't happen. Everyone goes through this. He was just mad. He didn't mean to hurt you.

And I'm not just angry at him. I'm angry at myself. I'm SOO mad that I could have had a better life. That I didn't leave. That I let it happen, that I fed into it. I begged him to stay, I lied for him, I covered for him I kept myself in that hell for so many years and it makes me angry beyond all comprehension.

But you know what makes it worse?

Worse than all of it combined is the fact that he doesn't get it. That in his mind because he is sober now everything should be fine.

I should be over it.

And it took me until just last week to realize that's part of the reason why I was so angry. That's why I was furious with the world. Why I wasn't eating and wasn't sleeping. I was waiting on something I may never get. An acknowledgement from him that it was awful and that he did damage that doesn't repair it's self over night.

And if I was holding my breath for that I would be dead by now because I am NEVER going to get it. That's the place I finally got to.

A little late for all the things you didn't say
I'm not sad for you
But I'm sad for all the time I had to waste
'Cause I learned the truth
Your heart is in a place I no longer wanna be
I knew there'd come a day I'd set you free
'Cause I'm sick and tired
Of always being sick and tired

I have to forgive myself for what I did. Understand that I was just as sick as he was and move on with my life. That's the part that the backlash from Monday didn't fully grasp. You could never say anything to me that is worse than what I have already said to myself. I have been my own worst critic through all of this. Given myself the most anger and disgust. I went back during all of this and read this post from right after I had Jake committed and all I could think was why didn't you run then?

No amount of anonymous commenters coming here and yelling at me for blaming him or not leaving or being an idiot or "pathetic" will ever be more than the chatter that has been inside my head since the day this all started.

I can not put my life on hold waiting for an apology from a man who may never understand that I lived in a nightmare for 7 years.

Your love isn't fair
You live in a world where you didn't listen
And you didn't care

I can not put my life on hold waiting for my brain to stop processing what happened to me. I have to move forward, try to live my life one day at a time and hope that eventually all of this is just a distant memory.

To any of you who have been collateral damage in the last seven years I am exceedingly sorry. To Amy and Beth and Lindsay and Jess and my family and friends and all the anonymous people whom I have snapped at, or deleted, or who have felt unjust backlash I'm sorry.

There was a point in my life where my head was buried so far in the sand that I couldn't see what was going on around me. Didn't want to see it and I may have said some things that I now hugely regret.

I hope that now that all of this is out there it may help some of you to understand who I am and where I am coming from. Obviously there is a lot more that I haven't posted here. A lot more that I save for another place. But for now, this is it....

All the anger and the frustration rolled up into one giant blog post. My life, in all it's imperfect glory splayed out here for you to read.

I'm sick and tired
Of always being sick and tired

WW: The Class Clown

Panic

I'm sitting at my desk working away when it hits me. My breath catches in my chest and suddenly I am very warm. My chest hurts. So bad that for a moment I wonder if I'm having a heart attack.

I get up, go to the elevators, outside for air. I sit on the bench, it is warm outside, almost too warm to make me feel better.

I stare at the ants scurrying around on the ground. My eyesight goes fuzzy. Suddenly I realize I'm not breathing....

I get up. Walking, walking will make it feel better. We are now a good 10 minutes in and I still feel like my chest is about to explode. One walk around the block and I'm starting to feel a little better. I head back to my desk.

I begin to work again but the dull ache is still there. I take my pulse... 107... is that high? Low? I don't know. All I know is it hurts. It hurts to breathe and I can feel every beat my heart makes. 45 minutes and counting....

No rhyme...

No reason...

Welcome to my world....

Are you really sure you want in??

Tuesday Talks

I want to mow with my little mower mommy.

Ok.

But I can't wear my flip flops.

You can't?

No, I have to wear my tennis shoes.

How come?

Because the mower is dangerous.

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Mommy I need to go get my razor.

Your razor?

Yes, I need my new razor from Grandma's.

Which Grandma's?

Grandma Carol's house.

You have a razor at Grandma Carol's house?

Yes, I do.

(He is looking at his leg)

I need to shave. I have bumps....

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Incidentally I called my mom and she has no idea what he was talking about but apparently somehow my son got it in his head that he needs to shave his legs.......

Thicker Skin

Here is what I find interesting, I come here every day and I post something and I get one or two comments. Most of you reading never say a thing. Which is cool, I read several blogs I don't comment on.

However, when one person gets nasty in the comments suddenly there are 5 or 6 people who jump in to say how awful I am. Seriously.... why do you read here if you hate me and what I write? No one forces you to come. If I read a blog and I continue to disagree with the author I don't read any more.

And if I do regularly enjoy the blog but just happen to find one thing that I don't like one day I don't get on and leave them an awful comment and tell them how "pathetic" they are. I just assume that maybe I read it wrong or maybe I just don't agree with them on something. I don't feel the need to attack them on a public forum. So, oh great hateful ones, do you feel better about yourselves because you said bad things about me?

Look, I realize that these things shouldn't bother me. I realize that writing here opens me up to people who do not understand who I am. People who only know me as a person inside the computer and not a real person. Well, rest assured, I am a real person and this blog is a part of me. Something that I don't just leave here. It is something that I think about and write in my head all day long.

I suppose if I have learned anything from Dooce it should be that everyone who has any sort of a following is going to have blog trolls. People whose sole purpose is to try to drag down the blogger. And in the end, perhaps I should just do what I wanted to do in the first place, delete the comments and move on. After all, that's what she does. Get thicker skin, don't let them bother me, move on.

But that's not me. I don't have 50,000 readers, I am lucky if on any given day I have 50. And I have this horrible desire to have each and every one of you like me. Which, at the end of the day, is a very unrealistic goal. So rather than just delete hateful people I try to figure out what I did, what I said, what I can do to make it better but what I have finally realized is that the answer to that is nothing.

When you come here and you read what I write you form your own opinion of me. Good, bad or otherwise. But the fact of the matter is that when I close the lid to my laptop I take this blog with me in my head but you all do not go with me in real life. I could stop writing tomorrow and my life would not end and you all would just find something else to do with the 2 minutes a day you spend here.

That is the reality I have to face. That is the part of the equation that I need to come to grips with. However, be that as it may one anonymous person did make one very valid point and that is that I am hiding. I took that comment down because it hurt me and I'm not in the mood right now to feel hurt. I reserve that right. But the point at the end about me hiding, that point was a valid and one I want to address here.

While it sucks, you're in the position of a double edged sword. One side cuts because you think have to hide yourself here so that nothing is used against you, the other side cuts because that means you're lying to everyone here... The friends and family you don't let see the other side.

I started the other blog because there were things that I thought would hurt my family and Jake's family to be posted here. I needed a place to process all that was going on and come to terms with my life as it was. I restricted who I gave access to in an effort to make that place safe for me but apparently one person (who does not like me very much or think very much of my writing) slipped through the cracks.

To that person, I'm sorry that you feel that way. Please loose the address to both of my blogs... problem solved.

For the rest of you, there are a lot of things that have happened in my life in the last four years that I have been posting here that I have not blogged about here. By their very nature they were ugly and angry and hurtful.

From today until Wednesday this blog will be a happy place. Butterflies and ponies damn it!! :-)~
On Thursday I will tell you all the truth. Just as with this blog, you can choose whether you read that post or not but it will be up here. I'm sure it will garner it's fair share of hate mail as well and I'm prepared for that.

The post that I am writing will not be everything that is on the other blog. That one will remain as my safe space and my place to process. It will, instead be one, LONG post about a lot of things that may, or may not give you a little bit of insight into who I am.

But for now, would it kill you all to just do a little happy dance for me? A horrible part of my life is ending. A relationship that made both people in it miserable is finishing and we will both be able to live separate, hopefully happy lives.

So yes, I do feel a party is in order for that and I wouldn't begrudge him the happiness of having one of his own, believe me when I tell you I wasn't always a peach to live with myself. :-)

The Party

The party has been planned. It is Wednesday night.

It is
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well actually
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that's all I know.

Miss Jessica has planned something that she assures me will be fantastically fun but refuses to tell me about it. So what I know right now is it is somewhere in the greater Des Moines metro. If you want more details you will have to e-mail her at shaneandjess@gmail.com

Hope to see you all there!!

Tractors

Grandma can't ride the tractor.

She can't?

No... only me and Grandpa.

Why can't Grandma ride?

Because she can't!! (As in DUH mom...)

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I ride tractors all the time.

You do?

Yeah. They are my favorite....

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I ride a tractor with Grandpa tonight.

What if he's busy?

He's not.

What if he's not home?

He's NOT. busy. Mommy!!

Unwritten

I am unwritten
Can't read my mind
I'm undefined
I'm just beginning
The pen's in my hand
Ending unplanned

Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin

No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

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The story of the rest of my life starts today......

Friday Confessionals

He Signed.....

On the dotted line.....

He didn't decline.....

He just signed.....

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I sign today.

The court signs on Wednesday.
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The party is Wednesday night.

WW: Well... I tried....

Law of Two Year Olds

A certain two year old, will, every day of the week sleep until 7:00 or 7:30 requiring you to wake him up for daycare.

ACCEPT.....

The night you stay up until 1:00 am working in your office.

That morning he will wake you up at 5:30 with a rousing rendition of "I waked up Mommy!!"

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It's gonna be a long day....

Tuesday Talks

"Mommy do we have money at home."

"Why do you need money at home?"

"I need my quarter."

"Why do you need a quarter?"

"I just do?"

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Don't say why Mommy."

"Oh really......"

"Just say yes."

Don't I have a few more years before we are supposed to be having this conversation??

All Before 7:30 In the Morning....

"Mommy my eye hurts."

"Well let me look at it... did you get something in it?"

"Yeah... my eyeball is in it!!"

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We are working on potty training. He is walking around our kitchen this morning sans diaper after successfully completing one trip and running back and forth about 3 more times just in case.

"Now don't you go potty on my floor."

"I won't."

"Are you sure??"

"I won't Mommy. I'm holding on to it."

I look down...

he is in fact... holding on to it.....

Anger, Fear & Frustration

Early this morning I received a message from a friend. A friend who was expecting a baby any day now. The message was telling me that her daughter had passed away. And all I could do was stare at the screen and wonder if I was reading it wrong.

I'm not as close to this friend as I once was yet I can not get this out of my head. There are several blogs that I read of people who have had babies who were born still but this is someone I know, not someone in the computer and somehow it seems so much more real this way.

I don't know any details at this point and really they are probably just details because the most important thing is that tonight she should be holding her new daughter and instead her arms are empty. And that makes me angry. It makes me angry for so many reasons.

Angry that some people get to screw up with their children and get chance after chance and she is a good person, a wonderful mother and yet she will never get a chance to know her second born child here on earth. And that seems horribly unfair to me.

It is late, yet my mind won't rest. This piece of information has dragged up all sorts of demons I thought I had laid to rest.

Please keep my friend in your thoughts and prayers tonight. I know I will.....

Lindsay's Fight

Well, not the news I wanted to report but I am back posting over at my sister's site again. Lindsay had to be admitted to the hospital again for infection and pancreas troubles.

Please keep her in your thoughts and prayers. I know she needs it!!

Thursday Thoughts

Maya Angelou said this:

I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.

I don't know what I've done
Or if I like what I've begun
But something told me to run
And honey you know me it's all or none

There were sounds in my head
LIttle voices whispering
That I should go and this should end
Oh and I found myself listening

Cuz I dont know who I am, who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
Cuz she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood

- Missy Higgins (Where I Stood)

I'm back over on the other side (Maybe I should start calling it through the looking glass) trying desperately to keep my head above water again. E-mail me if you need the directions.

I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.

- Maya Angelou

WW: Big Helper

Tuesday Talks

"Zacky where is Mommy's Brain? I think I've lost it this morning can you help me find it?"

Looking intently around the back porch... I chuckle to myself as I lock the door.

"It's inside Mommy."

"No baby, mommy was just kidding. It's in my head, just like yours."

Puts his hand to the top of his head.

"No it's not.... that's hair!!"

Ahh... the Joys of the Internet...

This morning I went into my e-mail and was a bit shocked to see a comment on the post about my sister having absolutely nothing to do with my sister. The comment was rude and cutting and signed anonymously as all good comments of that nature are. So I deleted it. Figured that would be the end of it.

However, as I should have learned by now... that was not to be the end. On June 13th I celebrated 4 years of blogging on this forum. Over that time I have come to realize that people like this will come and go and often the ones that make the most noise come back again and again to make sure their noise is heard.

Then others get upset and tell me how awful I am for taking down the comments because obviously I can't handle a little criticism and I'm only leaving up what I want to hear.

So.... seeing no good reason not to let their noise be heard I thought I would just put it up here, in all of its glory. Because SHIT like this just DEMANDS to be read.....

Seriously, that's the card you're going to play. Don't get me wrong,
this comment isn't some personal vendetta. I do not know you. I found your site
about 1.5 years ago because through a friend of mine that's followed you from
nearly the beginning. She was always talking about your site, so I thought I'd
read it so I knew what the heck you were talking about. Most of the time, I
completely agree with you... but not this time!!!

What you're talking about, what happened with you and your sister, is
NORMAL. A LOT of kids do that, and most start in their teenage year. I resented
my brother when he was better at sports than I was and never attended any of his
games either. I hated him with a passion. Mind you, he is 3 years older than me,
and it's brother/sister instead of 2 girls, but it's the same concept. My
parents said the same things, and years later we are best friends.

I cannot believe that you're taking the opportunity to blame this on
your (soon to be) ex husband. He had NOTHING to do with it! If you weren't with
him, you would've had the same feelings for your sister and you eventually
would've found your sister again, just like you did. Timing may have been a
little different, but it's not his fault that you had a sister, hated her, then
fell in love with her all over again.

Shame on you for using him as a scapegoat for this. It's enough for me
to delete you from my daily list!

What I really love about this is how they take the first sentence to tell me that this isn't a personal vendetta. Sort of like saying don't take this personally but you are a complete ass and a waste of human life. See? It hurts less when I tell you not to take it personally right??

The other thing I love is how they state right up front, I do not know you. That right there is a signal for my brain to shut off. If you have been reading blogs for any length of time you would know right up front that what you read here is less than half of my life.

I don't come here and tell you every detail and unless you are reading my private blog you don't know the struggles I go through on a daily basis just to try to make my life manageable and to try to move past all the things that have happened to me.

I have never, ever in any way shape or form tried to blame ANYTHING on my ex. Please... READ what you are commenting on before you attack me. I take full and complete responsibility for the choices I made in my life. No where have I ever said it is because of him. Always because of ME... MY choices to live MY life that way.

As far as I know I was never locked away in a tower with the key thrown away. I was an idiot... I will be the first to admit that, but I had choices. There was never a time when I couldn't have said yeah... hey... don't want to do this any more. I didn't and believe me when I tell you I feel BAD about that. Don't really need you rubbing it in... but thanks for the reminder. Always helpful to be cut down by people who know nothing about me.

See, two months ago when I was in a much darker place I would have really been upset by this. I would have let it eat away at me and ruin my day. But today... if you want to be heard... there you go I have let you be heard.

Now you get to listen to me.

I reserve the right to take down any comment I feel is rude or off the point. It is my blog, if you don't like it, don't read it.

When I write something about my little sister, a post which took me a lot of tears to write and you come on to my blog and throw me under the bus because you didn't understand what I wrote rather than e-mailing me to ask me about it... I'm going to delete it.

I take full 100% responsibility for the really shitty choices I made in my life and the train wreck that it became. I'm standing up in front of all of you with a giant neon sign pointing down at me.

IT

WAS

ME!!

I thought that part was perfectly clear. You want to attack me now... it's open season on Heather... use this post as your stomping ground... but DON'T you dare destroy a post that is about my baby sister.

one...

two...

three...

go.....

Good Sister?

On Friday Lindsay was able to leave the hospital, mostly on her own two feet, and head for home. At that point I turned the reigns to her blog over to her. So here I am, back again.

When I put up the post over there, saying that I would be coming back over here I got a lot of comments stating what a good sister I was for keeping up the blog and how close we must be and for some reason, of which I can't quite put my finger on, those comments bothered me.

Now I realize why people said them. And I realize that they are grateful that they were able to keep up on her progress but does it really make me a good sister? Isn't that just what a sister is supposed to do?

As for how close we are... I've been doing A LOT of thinking about this lately.

My sister and I are two years apart. Until I was about 22 years old I was convinced she was the spawn of Satan and I would hate her forever. My sister and I didn't just have fights. We had knock down, drag out, break things in the house by throwing them at my head (yeah... she did most of the throwing... she was bigger than me....) fights. The kind that make your parents want to lock you both in your rooms until you are 18 and then let you out only so you could gather your belongings and

go.

live.

somewhere.

else.

So many fights and so much ill will that I do not remember one single event of hers that I attended. She was in Volleyball, Basketball, and I think Track and Softball. Yet I didn't attend one single game. And right now, that makes me sad. I have gone to a few of my nieces softball games and was supposed to go to one of my nephews this weekend but was unable because of a wonderful stomach virus. Those 3 or 4 games I have attended of theirs are more than I ever attended of my own sisters.

Part of this, I can tell you right now is because of the life I was living and the choices I was making about babysitting my partner instead of living my own life. Part of this I can see as me taking back my own life but part of it was also this huge animosity that was between us.

I have several vivid memories of telling my parents that once I graduated high school I would never speak to her again.

And them in turn telling me that she was my sister and one day I would realize how much I love her and she would be the maid of honor in my wedding...
.
.
.
.

They were right....
.
.
.
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Damn parents and their knowing things.....

I don't know when it changed. I don't know if it was over night or slowly but suddenly my sister and I just started talking like two normal people. She was the maid of honor in my wedding but she was also the pain in my ass when I was pregnant.

Then last year she got pregnant and she almost died after having Landen (oh yes... this is twice in one year... we have to have a discussion about this.....) and suddenly all of that crap between us didn't seem to matter any more. Suddenly all that mattered was that she was my sister.

Often over the last two weeks I have wondered, if I had found Al-anon sooner (I had been in a little over a year when Landen was born) would we have been close sooner? Did I stay away because I was so wrapped up in my own life that I didn't have time for anyone else? Or like so many other things in life did time just take time?

I may never know the answer to that but I can tell you that this accident has forever changed my view of my sister (she's a rock star by the way... all the new blogs on her site... typed by her... with ONE hand....).

We may not have been good sisters before but I think we will be much better sisters now!!

Welcome

***Scroll down for new posts... I'm leaving this one at the top for a week or so***

Yesterday I installed a Stat Counter on my Sister's web page. This morning when I got in it shows that she has had 534 hits since midnight. WOW!! That's all I have to say... WOW!! I can't believe the way the on-line community has really rallied around her. I know having all of them praying for her has been what has helped her to get this far in her recovery.

As is usually the case, some of the people from over there have followed me back here. So I just wanted to say a quick welcome to any of you who are new. Things around here have been kind of quiet as I've been pretty focused on Lindsay's recovery.

However, feel free to poke around at the old archives. Perhaps you will find something you like that will get you to come back, but if not, glad you stopped by and keep up the prayers for my sister. She needs all of them she can get.

For those of you regulars who read my boring drivel day in and day out... I'll be back in full force soon. Until then I'm going to leave this post on the top and post any new items just below it for about the next week or so.

Friday Confessionals

I still, over two years after the worst of it, 4 months after the last of it, have flashbacks. Two years ago it was every single day, multiple times per day. 4 months ago it was at least once a day.

Now, sometimes I can go a full day, maybe two without thinking about any of it. Then for no apparent reason I will be driving along in the car and I will get "lost" in one. They hit me suddenly, sometimes without provocation and I'll be right back there in it. The panic attack usually follows.

People often think that when the situation is over it will go away. Like because he is gone I should be better. In fact several of them have asked why I continue to go to Al-anon. When I can go a week, a month without a flashback I will consider myself marginally better and possibly able to miss one of my meetings if I have something else to do.

When I can go a year.... I might consider myself better. It took me over 10 years to get here, I have a feeling it might take me just as long to get back.

More Prayers

At 4:36 am this morning my cousin and his girlfriend welcomed their first son into the world. Unfortunately their joy was quickly replaced with fear as they realized that little Camden is suffering from a bowel obstruction and has to be transferred to the Children's Hospital away from his mommy and daddy.

Your prayers have worked miracles for my sister. Please now, lift up this family in your prayers. The next few days could be very rough for them.

WW: Fearless

Helpless

Sometimes, without even knowing it, children can be very insightful. This weekend I took Zack to see Inny (this is what he has called my sister since he was very little). Zack knows that Inny has an owie on her belly and that's why she is in the hospital. While we were there he said to me:

"Inny has an owie on her belly... but I can't see it."

This is very much how I feel about my sister's recovery right now. Somewhere, Lindsay has an owie. I can't see it but it is still there. Still just as real as the one running up her stomach or the three on her arm.

Lindsay has been struggling for the past week. Trying so hard to fight against the depression and the anxiety that one feels when trying so hard to get better and yet continuing to feel pain. She wants to see improvements and while we can look back and see how far she has come, for her there is still just pain and daily struggle.

There's a part of me that wants to jump in there and tell her to get over it. Be grateful to be alive and be so thankful that God is not finished with her yet.

Then there is the other part of me that knows that doing that is not going to help her. I too have spent time in my own personal hell and no amount of screaming from the outside can get through to you until you are ready to fight for your life.

As I was waiting for the elevator after visiting her at noon I heard a woman on the phone. She was talking about God's plan. "I have my schedule in my head of how this should go and how I want it to go but in the end only God knows how it will go." A lot of times I think I loose sight of that. I am not in control.

As much as I want to get in there and fix her, make her walk, make her eat I can't. She has to do that for herself, in her own time and in God's own time. He saw fit to let her live through this and has brought her this far, he will bring her through it and my only job at this point is to support her.

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.
.
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And run clear across town for Chicken Noodle Soup when she needs it.

Swimming with Zack

You may remember that a few weeks ago I put up a picture of Zack at swimming lessons. That face that he's making... he smiles that big from the moment I lower him into the pool at 6:30 until I take him out of the pool at 7:00. He LOVES to swim.

However, being 2 1/2 he is also fearless about the water. Let me set the stage for you. Swimming lesson #1 occurred right after his toddler class so he was pretty worn out. I thought all would be well. He listened to the teacher, he seemed to sit fairly still.

Swimming lesson #2 - June 22nd he started to bounce. Up and down up and down on the table they put in the water (so the kids can stand up). I'm sitting by the wall and I see him bounce... bounce.... gone. I jumped up really quick and rushed over to him as he was standing back up all smiles.

Let me ease your fears by saying that they all wear life jackets so I knew that even if he fell off of the table he would float... it would just be a matter of fishing him out. (This will be important to the story later.)

He, of course was unphased by the falling incident and didn't understand in the slightest why Mommy looked like she was going to have a heart attack.

Moving on... Swimming lesson #3 - June 24th. They are swimming out into the water to retrieve rubber ducks. The teacher would give them one, they would throw it and then she would help them to swim out and get it.

Zack has his turn. She turns to help another child and he is just standing there innocently on the edge of the table. Next thing I know he throws his duck and jumps.

He sinks like a rock.

Luckily the teacher is right there and as she turns around he is coming back to the surface and she grabs him and puts him back on the table.

Are you seeing a pattern here? It is at this point that I turn to one of the other parents and say, before all of this is over, I think I might be getting wet.

The second week of swimming lessons he did much better. He was listening and mostly following directions and above all... keeping his head above the water when the teacher was not around. Then the 4th of July happened and he had a week off from swimming lessons.

Cue last night.

I'm sitting by the wall and Zack is standing on the table. They had been practicing their swimming and he thought he would get in a little extra practice. He was doggie paddling along and the teacher was way out in the pool with another little girl.

He's swimming, he's smiling, he's swimming... he's gone.

AWW CRAP!!

I jump up along with two other Dad's (who complimented me on my quick reaction time...) and as I get to the edge of the pool I see him bobbing there. He's not really panicking, sort of just doggie paddling giving me this look like I'm kind of stuck can you help me out here?

So I lean down and fish him out. This time, just my pants are wet.... next time.... perhaps I should just wear my bathing suit!! :-)

So Close Yet So Far

8:17 pm

As I watched the clock click over to those magic numbers this evening my breath sort of caught in my chest. One week ago today at 8:17 pm my phone rang and my life as I know it changed. One week ago my baby sister, the one who I vowed to hate for ever but really will always love for all eternity almost died.

Even now, saying that out loud sounds unreal. Almost died? Really? Was she that close?

Yes... yes she really was.

Today has been a rough day for her. She wants things to move more quickly. She wants to be up and moving and walking and recovering because she hasn't looked back yet to see just how far she has come.

For me, as I was telling one of my co-workers today, she is a medical miracle. I want to run into her room and tell her, don't you know you are alive!! You lived and that, in and of it's self is something we didn't know if would happen last week.

But I can't. I have to understand that she is grieving too. She has lost a lot and endured a lot and for her, it all just started yesterday. We have had a week, she has had two days.

Yet still, I hope she can feel it. My love for her. Every one's love for her. We all know how far she has come. We measure her progress by the strides she has made, not by the ones she has left.

The past is gone, the future is uncertain but today is a gift. That's why they call it the present.

Hold on to your good times Lindsay. You were given the present of today. You will get through this!!

Waiting and Wondering

Today is my first day back at work. It is not going well. For 6 days my butt has been camped outside of her room or in her room. I was there for the doctor visits the nurse visits the updates if I wasn't in the room. I was in the loop. And God forbid there was a problem, I was there for that too.

Now, I'm here. My work is only 5 minutes from the hospital. I could be there if she needed me, but the fact of the matter is she probably doesn't. She was moved to a regular room yesterday. Her husband and one of my parents have been with her round the clock and will continue to be with her.

I'm just the sister. Yet I can't help feeling a bit lost today. I keep wanting to check the blog and then it dawns on me. I write the blog. There will be nothing new up there until I sit her down and teach her how to write on it herself and that will probably not be for another week or so. Preferably when she's on a bit less morphine. Although the state she was in when I saw her this morning might make for some interesting blogging!! :-)

So for now, I just have to trust that she is in good hands. I will go and check on her at lunch time and again tonight but at the end of the day, my baby sister isn't such a baby after all. She's been pretty tough through all of this. Probably stronger than I ever would have been and she's a fighter. I'm sure she will cross any hurdles that come up, even if I'm not there to stand behind her in case she falls.

If you want to keep following along her blog is:

www.butchsfight.com

This is Not My Life

It is 2:30 am and I am standing outside the door of the emergency room staring into a fountain. The running water is oddly soothing and all I can think is maybe if I stare hard enough a portal will open up and I can go back in time. Back just 7 hours, back to when my life was normal.



Last night my sister was in a horrible accident. She was pinned between a semi and a loading dock. The details of how she got there are pretty sketchy. We don't know if she fell, if she didn't see the semi, if he didn't see her.....



What we do know is she was injured. Badly. My sister... my baby sister.... who to me still seems so young, who was, in my mind, never old enough to have a baby. Who just Eight Months ago gave birth to my nephew and almost died in the process.

My baby sister is hurt. And there is nothing I can do to make it better. I have started a blog for those who are interested in following her recovery.

www.butchsfight.blogspot.com

If you pray... please do so now.

If you don't... please start.

Fantastic New Website!!

Ok... I read a blog and the writer of that blog has teamed up with another blog writer and they have created quite possibly the funniest pregnancy/motherhood website I have ever been to in my life.

Let's Panic About Babies

I'm telling you now if you go there and you do not find at least one thing that makes you laugh... you are dead inside. One of my favorites thus far:

"It will come out of you, and then you will have to take care of it"

So what are you still doing here... go... go and laugh....

Friday Confessionals

Zack still sleeps in a crib. Granted I took the crib tent off and I lowered the front railing so it only comes up to his waist... but it's still a crib. And if I had my way he would be in that crib forever.

It's not because I'm afraid he'll come in with me, we co-slept for about 3 months when he was really little and then he went back to his bed. He likes his space and I like my space.

No, it's more about keeping him in his bed so he will actually GO to sleep. He is a talker, singer, bouncer at night and during nap times. He can be yawning and rubbing his eyes but he will still sit up there and talk to himself for a good 20 - 30 minutes.

Now imagine if you will, if he could get out of his bed at that time. He would never go to sleep!! :-)

So, for now a crib it is. Do you think his friends will tease him when he has sleep overs??

Sometimes We All Need A Reminder....

More Beautiful You

Little girl fourteen flipping through a magazine
Says she wants to look that way
But her hair isn’t straight her body isn’t fake
And she’s always felt overweight

Well little girl fourteen I wish that you could see
That beauty is within your heart
And you were made with such care your skin your body and your hair
Are perfect just the way they are

There could never be a more beautiful you
Don’t buy the lies disguises and hoops they make you jump through
You were made to fill a purpose that only you could do
So there could never be a more beautiful you

Little girl twenty-one the things that you’ve already done
Anything to get ahead
And you say you’ve got a man but he’s got another plan
Only wants what you will do instead

Well little girl twenty-one you never thought that this would come
You starve yourself to play the part
But I can promise you there’s a man whose love is true
And he’ll treat you like the jewel you are

There could never be a more beautiful you
Don’t buy the lies disguises and hoops they make you jump through
You were made to fill a purpose that only you could do
So there could never be a more beautiful you

So turn around you’re not too far
To back away be who you are
To change your path go another way
It’s not too late you can be saved

If you feel depressed with past regrets
The shameful nights hope to forget
Can disappear they can all be washed away

By the one who’s strong can right your wrongs
Can rid your fears dry all your tears
And change the way you look at this big world

He will take your dark distorted view
And with His light He will show you truth
And again you’ll see through the eyes of a little girl

There could never be a more beautiful you
Don’t buy the lies disguises and hoops they make you jump through
You were made to fill a purpose that only you could do
So there could never be a more beautiful you

- Jonny Diaz

WW: My Fish

Deep Thoughts

All last week on my way to work I noticed a black dress shoe on the side of the road from my house. All week I wondered to myself how exactly does one loose one shoe on the side of the road.

Then on Friday it was gone and a little ways further down the road had been replaced by a white tennis shoe.

Really?

These are the things I think about on my way to work. Why is that shoe there? How do you loose a single shoe? Wouldn't you notice it was missing and go back to try to find it? Is there a shoe lost and found somewhere for shoes found along the road?

What are your deep thoughts on this Monday?

Friday Confessionals

A month ago I told my life story at an Al-anon meeting. You can read it over there (e-mail me if you have no idea what I'm talking about)... or at least part of it. I'm working on getting the rest of it up.

I have never felt more happy or more free in my life than I have in the last month. It's like a weight was lifted from me and I gave myself permission to let go of all of that stuff that was haunting me.

I have laughed more and had more fun in the last month than I think I have in the last 10 years.

Life is not perfect but it's pretty darn good!! :-)

My Son: The Fish

Last night I took Zack to his first swimming lesson. Well, technically it was his second swimming lesson but I had a concert on Monday night and totally spaced off on arranging for someone to take him to his first swimming lesson so check that one in the box for bad mommy. :-)

Anyhow, when I called about swimming lessons a couple of months ago they told me he would probably be in Level 1, so imagine my disappointment when I went to sign him up last month and was told that he was not yet 3 and so therefore would have to be in the toddler class unless I got permission from the director.

Lacking the ambition to attempt to track down the director and get permission for my kid, who switches back and forth between jumping in without a care in the world and clinging to me as if his life is ending, I just decided to suck it up and leave him in the toddler class. The class which requires the parents to get into the water with their kids. (Insert LONG... painful sigh right here....)

So, yesterday we arrived at class and I waited until the last possible minute before changing the both of us and heading into the water with him. I could tell right away that his comfort in the water was well above the other little ones and that this was going to be a REALLY long 6 weeks if I had to stay in this class.

It was basically free swim, parents and kids with the teachers coming around once and awhile and suggesting things you should work on with the kid to get them comfortable in the water. Luckily, it was pretty apparent to one of the teachers that Zack was already comfortable in the water and so she asked me if I thought he would get in the water without me. Absolutely.

And so, that is the story of how my 2 1/2 year old graduated from the toddler class to level one with the 3 and 4 year olds on his very first day. The Level 1 class was from 6:30 - 7:00 so he actually had two lessons last night and spent a full hour in the pool. (He slept VERY well last night)

But... the best part of all.... I don't have to get into the water for his Level 1 class!! Can I get a resounding Woo Hoo!! :-)

WW: Why I Pay Bills On-Line

(If you can't read the letter, click on it to make it bigger..)

Bullet Point Monday

A friend of mine has been doing this on her blog and since short thoughts are all I'm capable of right now I'm going to try it here in an effort to at least get SOMETHING on my blog...

• Thursday Danette and I went to see Eric Hutchinson
• It was AWESOME...
• I could go to a concert like that every day and die a happy person
• I forgot how much I love music
• Friday night I met some friends at Prairie Meadows after my meeting
• I was only there for like an hour and a half but it was nice to be in good company and have good laughs although really girls... I'm kind of wondering how you would treat me if you WEREN'T my friend.... :-)
• Friday night Zack was up until 9:00 at my parent's house
• Saturday he got my BIL and my sister up at 6:00 with a lovely rendition of the ABC's
• I arrived at 9:30 to watch my nephew so they could go furniture shopping for a couple hours
• They left at 10:15
• They got back at 4:00
• A couple hours my ASS!!
• After they got back Zack decided to play in the dirt
• And then the water
• There was not a spot of exposed skin that was clean
• I stripped him in their entry way and threw him in the shower at my parents house with explicit instructions... DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING!!
• Jess and Shane then met us and we went for dinner
• Zack didn't get to bed until 10:00 on Saturday night
• Sunday morning I was awakened by my cell phone at 9:45 in the morning
• Zack was still asleep
• He finally got out of bed at 10:15
• It was heavenly but I got NOTHING done
• We had a family reunion so we left the house about 10:30
• We got back home at 5:00 last night
• Zack fell asleep so I let him take a little nap while I mowed the lawn
• I got the mower stuck in the front ditch on my first pass
• It sucked and I almost cried
• Luckily my neighbor came and helped me
• I was done by 6:30 and then I proceeded to try to do everything that I needed to do this weekend in a span of 3 hours
• I switched all of Zack's clothes from 2T to 3T
• I did three loads of laundry
• Then I collapsed into bed
• I got up at 5:30 with grand ambitions of finishing the rest
• I got a lot of things up into the attic
• But I also was spectacularly late this morning
• I considered just working until noon, going home and going back to bed and starting my day over about 4:00
• I stayed here instead

So, all of that excitement into one bullet pointed post... at least you got the highlights :-)

The Sky Is Falling

Morning Conversations:

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I want cold pizza

We are not having cold pizza for breakfast. You are going to have cereal and toast at daycare.

I want cold pizza.....

No, let's go upstairs and get dressed.

I WANT COLD PIZZA.... (tears have come.....)

One, Two......

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Why you eat all the Cheetos?

Because Mommy just ate them. It's ok, we don't need them now, we can get more tonight.

I WANT CHEETOS.... (tears again....)....

AHHHH!!! CHEETOS..... AHHHH!!!!

(Literally 5 minutes of me dressing him while he cries and screams about Cheetos....)

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Alright, let's get your coat on it's time to go.

I want a banana.

No, you are eating at daycare.

I WANT A BANANA....(more tears....)

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Believe me when I tell you I did not shed any tears when I dropped him off this morning!! :-)

Emergency Situation

Mommy!! Ahhh!! Ahhh!! Sooss offf!! Sooosss Off!! Ahhhh!!!

Zackary Alan WHAT are you screaming about??

You need to take my socks off mommy!

That's it? That is what you were screaming about? Was that really worth screaming about?

Yeah!
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I can feel the gray hairs already!!

Blog Award

Hey... I got an award...

Lindsay over at Living Life Backwards bestowed this upon me... isn't it lovely??

I think someone might have given me one before but I'm bad... I mean REALLY bad about getting these things up... mostly because I don't ever know who to name as passing the award on to. So... here are the rules....

1) Accept the award, post it on your blog together with the name of the person who has granted the award, and his or her blog link.

2) Pass the award to 15 other blogs that you’ve newly discovered. Remember to contact the bloggers to let them know they have been chosen for this award.

And here is me breaking the rules....

I'm going to update my blog links this weekend. If you are over there.... then I read you and in my book... YOU are a lovely blogger so feel free to consider that my notice that you have also been given this award!!

Have a lovely weekend everyone!!

I can't make this stuff up

Two or three months ago the transmission went out on my car. Yeah... the car I just bought last Summer. It was under warranty so they fixed it and four days later.... (yeah... four days, no car) I got my car back.

While it was there I mentioned to them that I needed some coolant because my car seemed to be low on coolant. I ended up buying some from them and then proceeded to have to refill my coolant every 2 weeks, all the while thinking this is probably not normal, I should probably call them and get it back in..... but I didn't.... I just went about my day.....

Until Tuesday. On Tuesday I drove my car out of the driveway and headed for daycare and all of the sudden the check engine light came on... and then the automatic throttle light came on and then I freaked out a bit imagining myself as one of those people who's throttle sticks down and they are going 100 on the interstate with no way to stop their speeding car.

So, as soon as I dropped Zack off I got out the owner's manual and read exactly what that light meant. Feeling fairly confident that I would not, in fact be careening to my death while driving I headed straight for the dealership.

When I got out of the car he asked me what the issue was. Well... the check engine light is on, oh and the automatic throttle light was on, and it needs and oil change and oh yeah... it has been leaking coolant from somewhere for the last couple of months. (Thinking one had nothing to do with the other.)

I was wrong. My radiator had a hole in it. The check engine light came on because the coolant got too low. The automatic throttle light... possibly just a fluke. And then... once again... I was without a car. (Luckily only for one day)

Why does this stuff happen to me? (Jess you are not allowed to make comments about what kind of car or where I bought the car. I already realize the error of my ways... I can't change it now!! :-)

First Movie

On Sunday I took Zack to see his very first movie in the theater. I have been wanting to take him for awhile but there has been a serious lack of cartoon type movies in the theaters lately. So when I saw last week that Disney was releasing a new one I decided we would go.

Little did I know, they were releasing it in 3-D. ONLY 3-D. Now how in the world was I going to get my 2 year old to sit through an entire movie wearing 3-D glasses?

Unfortunately, by the time I realized it was in 3-D I had already asked him if he wanted to go and told him we would go on the weekend. I don't know what other two year olds are like but mine has the mind of an Elephant. This kid does not forget ANYTHING!!

On Saturday when I picked him up from my parent's house he asked if we were going to the big movie and then proceeded to cry when I told him not today. So, I lied... through my teeth and told him it was broken. Yup... definitely broken BUT... by tomorrow it would be fixed.

He seemed ok with that but first thing Sunday reminded me again that the movie wasn't broken any more. So I spent Sunday morning telling him he had to sit through the whole thing and wear glasses, like his sun glasses.

I had planned to take him to the 2:20 movie but when I went upstairs to wake him at 1:45 he told me he wanted to go later. Lo and behold... 2:35... Mommy I waked up!! I want to go to the big movie now!!

So I ended up taking him to the 4:15 show. He did AWESOME!! He sat in his own seat the whole time with his GIANT bug eyed glasses on.

He even entertained the theater with a few, "Wow... that was scary's", My kid... the comedian.

As soon as it was over, his first comment was I wanna watch it again. So I guess the next kids movie, I know where we will be.

WW: Best Friends