Prom Night Tragedy...

No one wagered a guess at what the worst thing to happen to girl on Prom night could be. But as a mother and a person who has seen a few horror flicks, the answers never end -- and they are terrible. People with chainsaws and ski masks are on the list as well as a few very real, very scary, and very illegal things.

Our local news has been talking a lot about Prom and promoting this story as some sort of tragedy that can ruin the night for any girl. I think the only reason why they've stopped talking about it too much is because the Swine Flu has given them another fear to incite into the public. At least the swine flu is somewhat dangerous. I think it is truly disgusting that in an expose' of what can happen on Prom night, none of the real dangers were mentioned. There was no discussion of drunk driving, date rape, peer pressure, or any other real dangers to kids. Nope. Instead we talked about how horrible it would be to show up to prom only to find out that someone else was wearing the same dress as you were.

Pardon me as I go vomit. This is not a tragedy. It's life. You don't see the hype they gave this story for the weeks and weeks before they finally aired it (for about three or four days straight). I wish my biggest problem now -- or even in high school had been showing up to an event to find out someone else was wearing the same dress as I was. Of course, I didn't care about it too much. I spent less than $100 total on getting ready for my junior AND senior prom. And I was still the only one wearing the dresses I picked out.

Warning the link below might make you sick. It's a bit graphic, what with the spoiled teenage girls and their shallow lives.

Prom Night Tragedy video.

Random Randomness...

My brain is empty, but it is so full at the same time, so I'm doing one of those dreaded bullet posts:

• Little Monster has woken up with crazy dreams two days this week. The first time he was sad because he apparently had been dreaming about his friends playing in his room. He was whining and asking "where did friends go? Friends playing in room." I told him it was a dream, and he got melancholy. He was especially down when Daddy asked him about it later. This morning he woke up screaming about eating cows. I'm not sure who was eating what, but either cows were eating or being eaten.
• The "boo-bots" have returned. I have been informed by Little Monster though, that they are nice robots. Today they have taken his waffle, to return it later, helped him put puzzles together and will be coming back later today. The nice "boo-bots" though, are also responsible for anything that may possibly get Little Monster into trouble. They do it all.
• I'm pretty miserable, but that goes without saying, I think. It doesn't help that for the past two mornings I've been up at 5:30 and unable to get back to sleep. Yesterday it wasn't anyone else's fault, but today I'm blaming some cows and a 2 year old's nightmare. And maybe a little bit of a husband who decided to leave early making the bedroom too cold to sleep. (And I blame him for the kid getting up early too, even though it wasn't his fault. LM ONLY gets up crazy early like that when it's inconvenient.)
• I'm working on another post about the most tragic thing that could ever happen to a girl on PROM night. The news has done a couple of stories about it, and I find it a bit disgusting. Can you guess what they are talking about? Seriously, put a guess out there in the comments. You'll be disgusted too. Hopefully I'll have that post up at the end of this week.

There. How was that for a bullet post? I know I'm missing about three bullets. Most of them have to do with Little Monster and his total cute-ness or WECON and her kickboxing routine.

Now back to your regularly scheduled programming. (cue static)

Not Me Monday

I did not assume that when Not the Momma shut the van door it meant that our child was secure in his seat only to realize 10 miles down the freeway in San Jose that Little Monster was actually loose.

I did not sunburn my leg in a weird pattern because the sunblock spray missed a spot. Not in Central CA, I didn't. It hasn't been sunny and 80+ for two days. I am not going to cry when the weather returns to normal on Wednesday.

I did not spray my child with a hose until he fell out of the wading pool face first into the grass. I'm a good mommy. I would never do that.

I have not nearly broken down crying three out of four nights because by the end of the day I'm so tired and so sore and so done being pregnant that I don't know what to do with myself. I don't look at my bed and think about how it's one more mountain to climb just to get in.

I have not (I really haven't) thoroughly thanked my husband for putting up with my junk lately.

I did NOT laugh at three fourths of the things that have come out of Little Monster's mouth lately, including the fear of the fish pattern at the bottom of his wading pool. And also the imaginary frog that lives in it.

I did NOT nearly cry when driving by the San Jose airport, Little Monster announced that Grandma and Grandpa were coming on a blue airplane. And I still don't tear up when he announces that every after noon and follows up his statement with "baby come first and we go night night and the sun comes up."

I am not going to end this here because I've run out of things to say and I realize that I need to go to the bathroom for the fortieth time today and that it is 80+ degrees outside and I'm inside like a fool. Nope. Not me. Wait. Yes I am.

I'm not really missing this week...

I'm enjoying my time in the sun. We get about three weeks (total) of GREAT weather here in Central Coast CA and today is one of those days. And tomorrow. So if you're looking for me, I'll be in my front yard, feet in the wading pool, playing with Little Monster and trying to avoid getting too sunburned.

Real life will begin to return Wednesday and it will start dropping back into the 50s with fog and drizzle. Don't be jealous. In June when you all are basking in the sun, I'll still be chilled.

Best. Book. Ever. Period.

Click on over to find out what it is. You won't be disappointed. Now, If I could only find it in the dollar aisle so I could buy several and hand them out when appropriate. ;)


Best. Book. Ever. Period.

Wow.

It's amazing how when you sit down to check on your budget, you realize how fast time goes. I don't have much more time before the baby comes, although each day seems to get longer and each night lasts about 30 hours with the constant waking to use the bathroom and the annoying need to turn over without the ability to do so easily. Oh well.

Here is a recent photograph:

I feel bad for the people at Church this weekend. They were all asking when I was due, and when I told them June 10th, most of them ran away as if to say "Holy Lord, this woman is huge and she is not even close yet. I've made a huge mistake opening that can of worms." I don't judge them. I am huge.

We had a good, but uneventful weekend. Little Monster got an Easter basket full of candy. He's still sneaking bits and pieces when I turn my back. We visited the beach, went shopping, and spent time together as a family. I didn't make a big Easter Dinner, in fact, we ate candy and Macaroni and Cheese. But don't tell anyone. Because they might judge me.

I'm assuming that things are only going to get busier around here and that the blog is going to be even more neglected soon. Doctor appointments are every two weeks for now, but soon will be every week. We still have yet to clean out the nursery/guest room or get much done around the house in preparation, and knowing how fast time is going, it may not get done before the baby arrives.

I pray everyone had a wonderful Easter.

Today's Prayer

Thank you Lord for my son, who is healthy and alive. Thank You for giving me the good sense to keep from selling him on eBay, shipping him in his favorite light box to grandmas and grandpas or getting rid of him an any other less savory ways.

Father thank You for the proof that he is normally healthy and regular in every way. Thank You for that poop proof being all over my couch. The poop proof that indeed a washcloth and bottle of upholstery cleaner will run away when shown a mess that they are not prepared, nor qualified to handle.

Father, now I pray that as the cushion covers of my couch enter the washer and dryer, that they will remain the proper size and will fit back over the cushions again without words escaping my mouth that would cause me to be fined by the FCC should I say them on television. Father, I pray that when Little Monster's "boo-bots" finally arrive (as You know, he's been warning of their arrival for months now), that they are cleaning robots. Robots that will clean my kitchen floor and remove poop proof of dirty children who refuse diaper changes exist from couch cushions without shrinking them.

Father, I thank You for my children. For without them, I would have nothing to blog about today, nor would I have anything to laugh about in twenty years (or perhaps later tonight) as I recount this episode for Not the Momma and anyone else who isn't afraid of a little poop.

Amen.

P.S. This entry is not in any way intended to offend anyone or mock prayer. This is a real prayer. I did a lot of serious praying as I removed couch cushion covers that were covered in very sticky green poop that the upholstery cleaner would not touch. Not even with a thirty foot pole. I am glad that the Lord decided to have a laugh on my behalf today. After all, that means He's still there and still watching and loving me. And that He has a sense of humor.

It could be fatal.

Okay, maybe not. I'm sure I'll get off the couch and out of bed to eat and drink. But I've got a serious case of the lazies lately. If you have seen my house since we've lived here, you would think I was a neat freak. Except for the first three months of my pregnancy. And now again. I can barely muster up the energy to think about cleaning, let alone do it. And all that bending over, it seems like such a waste when I know that thirty minutes later Little Monster is going to be dragging them out again to build 'boo-bots,' cars and planes. My dogs are starving, my fish is ready to jump out of its bowl, and as with everything else you have been neglected. Pretty much the only things I DO do, are my bible studies, make sure my family and I have enough calories to last through the day, and my ID card design work. Other than that, if it doesn't involve me sitting on my butt it hasn't happened. Ask Not the Momma. He actually cleaned the toilets in our house the other day. If he's cleaning the toilets, there's probably something seriously wrong.

Hopefully the lazies will end and I'll get motivated, but right now I feel like there's so much to do that I don't know where to start. Should I do laundry, pick up toys, sweep and mop, vacuum, clean the bathroom, organize the nursery/guest room into some sort of actual room again, wash sheets, do the dishes, or wipe down the counters? Yeah, I don't know either. I wanted to get started today. But I think it can wait until tomorrow. Because I'll have more energy tomorrow, right? Someone lie to me and say that I will. Otherwise this next child is going to come into a home that looks more like a disaster area than the comfy cozy nest I've been maintaining for over a year. Better yet, someone come over to my house and do all of this work for me! No. I take that back. I'd be mortified if anyone saw my house right about now.

The good news is that I do have a new picture of me to post. I'll do it tomorrow. Right after I clean my house.

Not Me Monday.

Warning: This post contains talk of poop. Lots of talk of poop.

I did not skip an entire week of posting for no good reason. Nope, not me!

I did not skip church this week because my two year old insisted on going poop at home. He did not begin whining about it at breakfast and continue it while we ate our entire meals. I did not chuckle a little when his face turned red and his head got sweaty while the whines got worse. I did not tease him in the car on the way home and suggest that we go all sorts of places including Church, the beach, and to get ice cream. I did not nearly die laughing when he answer to each one of those questions was "NO!!!! MOMMY! I go home!!!" I did not laugh when we left the restaurant and he was obviously walking with clenched butt cheeks. Then, I didn't almost cry when nearly two hours after this episode began, LM pooped on the potty for the first time ever. (In all seriousness, I've been delaying potty training because of the new baby coming.) I did NOT for about 30 seconds consider taking a picture of the toilet with LM flushing to commemorate the moment. We did not laugh when LM started freaking out about what color the stop lights were and would yell "Stop! Red! Green! GOOOOO!!!!" on the way home. Nor did we laugh when he announced "Stop Mommy!!! I walk home!" when we were about 6 miles away.*

We did not go to Cold Stone Creamery for ice cream on Saturday at 5:00. And then decide that was good enough to be considered dinner.

We did not watch the movie Bolt 3,000 times while it was rented only to return it to Blockbuster and on the way home stop and buy the movie.

We did not spend our entire Sunday Afternoon outside in the backyard watching Little Monster dig in the dirt, bark at the neighbors walking by with the dogs, kick his soccer ball, and play on his slide. We also didn't feed him a cheese stick and ice cream for lunch because it was too nice outside to bother with real food.

We didn't laugh at LM when we gave him some sparkling apple juice and after drinking it, he said "it hurts!" only to continue drinking it. He drank the entire bottle, saying "it hurts" after every sip.

I did not nearly peg a bird with a rock after it has spent the past few weeks scratching and pooping on the rear view mirrors of our truck only to start scratching and pecking at the back window when we covered the mirrors with bags.

We did not witness a gopher pop out of its hole and eat some weeds.

After not witnessing the gopher, I most certainly did not let my dog dig in the hole after it to keep it from getting any closer to our backyard. The dogs did not thoroughly enjoy being allowed to dig and hunt to their hearts content.

I most certainly am not writing this to appease my husband who has been complaining all week about the lack of blogging. You're not welcome baby.

*I did take him to the bathroom in the restaurant, but it was busy, and he hasn't shown much interest in potty training before. His diaper was clean, so we returned to the table. We really aren't mean parents who were just laughing at our child. Sort of.