Thankfulness.

Let's face it. I'm a complainer. I don't usually behave as though I am grateful for everything in my life, but really, I am.

I am thankful for the debilitating nausea that has accompanied this pregnancy. It reminds me that I am carrying a child -- a healthy child. It reminds me that there are so many women in this world who are unable to carry a child. Each time I pick up my prescription I am reminded of how lucky I am to have healthcare that will cover the expensive medication that allows me to be able to eat and drink -- and how lucky I am that I live in a time and a place where that medication is available to me. I believe that without it, I'd have died of dehydration weeks ago.

I am thankful for how naughty my son is. Naughty is relative, and generally his naughtiness is brought on by curiosity and energy. Both things that you only find in smart, healthy children. I have been especially thankful that I have been able to witness him growing up and learning. He has brought more laughter into my life than any other one thing. I mean, who else will start off the morning by drinking out of the dog water, sharing it with his stuffed dog, and then demand that his doggie is poopie and needs a diaper?

I am thankful for my husband. Even when he's whining about the vacuuming that I've asked him to do in preparation for today. Because it means he's home and safe. And although there is a sly, sarcastic comment among the chores, it reminds me that I too hate vacuuming and am lucky to have found a spouse who will help out. He has been a true blessing lately. He has picked up the slack for me these past couple of months. In more ways than one. It doesn't mean he isn't getting up before 5AM to get to school so he can study. It doesn't mean he isn't coming home at dinner time exhausted from having formulas crammed into his head all day. He does. But when he gets home, he often takes care of Little Monster, picks up a lot of the mess we've made during the day, fixes dinner, cleans up and puts Little Monster to bed. And after all that, he still wants to spend time snuggling with me. How lucky can a girl get?

I am thankful for everything the Lord has given me -- good and bad. Because I learn more from the bad than I do from the good, and the bad reminds me that no matter how bad I think I have it, there is always someone who isn't nearly as lucky as I am. I am thankful for family that loves each other. We are far apart, yet distance cannot stop the relationships that our parents are forming with Little Monster. Rarely does a day go by when he doesn't ask for at least one grandparent. Our family enjoys rare relationships without the tension that many families struggle with.

How wonderful my life must be when the only things I have to complain about are things that don't really matter -- the holes in the backyard, the dogs that bark, the house that's not exactly clean, the bread I wrecked. It means I am rich enough to have dogs, food, a house, and the family that makes it home.

Definition of Procrastination...

That's what's going on in my house right now. I have piles of laundry to do, vacuuming, and a guest room to get ready for guests. I have bathrooms to clean, and a fridge to empty. I have thousands of toys that need to be put away. I have to call and order the pizza for dinner tonight. The dogs need baths, I need a nap.

But I am sitting here listening to the sweet sound of my two year old snoring. It is sweet, indeed. Because he is sleeping. I hear the sound of the movers loading up someones house down the street, hammering their wooden crates shut. My dogs are breathing heavily as they doze on the couch beside me.

I know I should be sorting toys, or cleaning a fridge, or doing a long list of other things that need to be done, but right now, a little bit of quiet sure is nice. I don't imagine that there will be much quiet left around here soon.

Tomorrow I plan on finishing up whatever needs to get done around the house and preparing a majority of our Thanksgiving feast. I will put it all together and then bake/heat/brown it at the end. I pray that I will be able to get it all done. If I don't, well, we'll have to wait an extra 30 minutes for dinner tomorrow. Or, the stairs may not get vacuumed.

Thursday my goal is to be relaxed. (Ha! If you know me, you know that's a fat chance.) But that's my goal. We'll eat our Thanksgiving dinner on my CHRISTMAS plates, and we'll watch the Peanuts Thanksgiving special.

Randomness

Going a few days without my no-pukey meds is not fun. I plan to ensure that never happens again.

Little Monster has decided sleep is for the birds unless a parent is in bed with him. It sucks. Especially when the severity of my pukey problem has a negative correlation with the amount of sleep I receive.

Not the Momma is awesome in the middle of the night. He rarely grumbles about getting up to take care of Little Monster when I'm so far gone I couldn't hear an air horn two inches from my head.

I wonder how many women died of dehydration during the early months of pregnancy back in the day before meds.

Have I posed that question before?

The ant mess has been taken care of. With the help of Not the Momma and toxic chemicals. Yay for toxic chemicals.

My house is trashed, and my once clean living room is messy again. Surprise.

Diet Gatorade (G2) is gross. But it's not being rejected. Yet.

Noon is so close, yet so far away.

Fanatic??

So, the other night, my dear dear husband said I was becoming a religious fanatic. I was initially offended until he explained that I was no worse than a Trekkie. I didn't mind it so much, because he's totally a sci-fi fanatic, and Little Monster is a Nemo fanatic... And it's true. I'm a big fan of Jesus.

So I guess I am a religious fanatic. But does that mean I have to find the religious version of Comic-Con and show up dressed as my favorite bible character? How would a religion-based Comic-Con type thing work? Would people from all religions be invited? It could be interesting to see a bunch of Buddhas, Mohammad, and Zed, that crazy dude from the Christian Scientology's religion. Or is he from the Jonestown craziness? I don't know. All I know is that could be one volatile combination.

Friday Fun....

There is no Friday Fun Today.. I had it all yesterday. I ate a sandwich and cookies. Oreo cookies. With milk. You know how when you're eating the cookies and you take a sip of the cold, delicious milk, it not only tastes but FEELS good? Yeah. You should so do that today. Get some Oreo's and milk, and eat at least seven of them. You're mouth will feel so much better for it.

Today, I only have a bit of sarcasm. My living room is clean. At least one room in the house is dust free and vacuumed. I wanted to write a Friday Fun post about how much fun this weekend is (not) going to be since I didn't get my Z.ofran request to the Dr's office in time yesterday, they're closed today, and now I have one pill to get me through today, tomorrow, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday until I get to the pharmacy. At least I'll have some coping skills.

Oh, and the ants.. they're migratory sugar ants. Meaning they migrate from one area of the house to another. Fun times. Fun times.

I was never good at tag.

I hate to run, so I always got tagged, and then I couldn't get rid of the "it" status once I got it. I got tagged by my friend E.

So here goes.

8 Things I’m passionate about:-

My Christianity
Being a good Mother
Being a good wife
Abolishing No Child Left Behind
Everything in life is a choice
Teaching
Sign Language (not recently, so much)
Singing (again, not so much recently)

8 Things that happened yesterday:

Little Monster woke up 4 times in the night.
I was a bad mommy, locked him in his play room and slept until 8:30
We went to the grocery store
A fight ensued at the grocery store about the lack of steering wheels in the truck shopping cart
I opened the pantry door to find it moving with ants
I spent the afternoon killing ants with windex and cleaning out the pantry
I cleaned out the fridge
We had grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch

8 Things I do now

I am working on publicity and retreats for PWOC
I go weekly to bible study
I am a mommy to one and 2/9
I spend a lot of time in the bathroom kneeling over the toilet
I lay on the couch like a lump waiting for the second trimester energy to come
I design ID cards for police departments
I act as a mediator between the dogs and my husband, and the dogs and my child.
I pray. A lot.


8 Things I can not do

I cannot stop throwing up without medication.
I can not seem to gain enough energy to complete anything
I can not come up with 8 things I can't do. Because I'm a military wife, I have to do it all.

8 Things I often say

LM! NO!
We are NOT watching the Little Mermaid again!
LM! Good Job!
LM You have good manners today.
Stop Barking!
You may not have a fruit snack.
No juice until after lunch.
Zo.fran is my best friend.

8 Favorite TV shows

Grey's Anatomy
Gilmore Girls
How I met your mother
Big Bang Theory
According to Jim
Lost
Friends
Charlie and Lola

8 Favorite foods

Chicken Pad Thai
Pizza
Cashew Chicken
Thanksgiving Dinner
Rhubarb Pie
Strawberry Lime-aid
Chips
Chocolate Chip Cookies with Iced Tea. (weird, I know)


8 Things you may not have known about me:

I was born in California
I was raised in Nebraska
I lived on a lake as a child
I crochet when I get the time, and thoroughly enjoy it
My second and third toes are slightly webbed
I'm a slob and I hate it. (I was doing better until I got pregnant)
My favorite high school job was Dairy Queen
My first car was a 1986 Chevette

Too much cuteness...

Last night Little Monster decided to prove how smart he was by matching all of the letter magnets on the fridge with the cards they came with. On his own. It was amazing.

He also decided that his stuffed Giraffe (a new favorite) and Doggy needed diapers, because they were poopy. He even wiped their bums with a wipe.

A new pass time has become diving off of his bed onto the floor. He holds his arms out as though he is going to dive head-first off of the mattress. It's a whole 6 inches, but the face he makes looks as though he's preparing to dive off of a 20 foot platform.

If you ask him what a frog says he says "diidddit diddiit" while trying to hop.

Yesterday while we were cleaning up our Thanksgiving program, Little Monster found a music stand that was set to his height, grabbed the sides with his hands and began to croon a song never sung before.

Since I've returned from my trip, Little Monster has discovered the word "my" and has begun using full sentences. Of course, translation is still needed for others, but he's speaking in FULL SENTENCES! When will the growing up end?? Or at least slow down?

We are talking about potty training again. He's telling us when he's poopy, bringing diapers and wipes. BUT he did have an accident in the tub the other day. I'm still waiting to see more signs of readiness. He's also discovered he doesn't get into trouble for getting up at night if he's poopy, so now when he's about to get into trouble he says "POOPY!" I'm not sure what to do about this dishonesty at this point. For now, I tell him he's not poopy and it isn't nice to say things that aren't true.

I apologize for the numerous mentions of "poopy" in this post. But its what happens when you've got a toddler. At least we have quit referring to it as "filling his pants." I know some people will be happy for that.

Wonderous Weekend...

This past weekend I was at a convention for my bible study group (Protestant Women of the Chapel --or PWOC). It is a group set up for women who are in or married to the military. It was an amazing, eye and heart opening experience. If you're a Christian, you've certainly been somewhere that when you walked in you could sense the presence of the Holy Spirit -- He was there this weekend. He was there BIG.

Our speaker was Lisa Harper. She was incredibly down to earth, open about her flaws, and incredibly personable. She told two stories that REALLY really touched my heart.

The first was her take on the story of Jesus, the Pharisees and the adulteress woman. Do you know the story? It's from John Chapter 8 1-12:

1But Jesus went to the Mount of Olives. 2 Now early in the morning He came again into the temple, and all of the people came to Him; and He sat down and taught them. 3Then the scribes and Pharisees brought to Him a woman caught in adultery. and when they had set her in the midst, 4they said to Him, "Teacher, this woman was caught in adultery, in the very act. 5 Now Moses, in the law, commanded us that such should be stoned. But what do You say? 6 This they said, testing Him, that they might have something of which to accuse Him. But Jesus stooped down and wrote on the ground with His finger, as though he did not hear. 7So when they continued asking Him, He raised Himself up and said to them, "He who is without sin among you, let them throw a stone at her first." 8And again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.

You've all heard that line from Jesus. But that wasn't necessarily what she was preaching. There is a HUGE act of mercy in this story, and it isn't even that after he said that everyone left without one stone being thrown. Lisa said this: Imagine this woman, who thought she loved a man (who should have been thrown in with her, wasn't), was caught IN THE ACT, which meant she was not wearing much, and if anything, she only had a blanket to cover herself. All the eyes of the crowd were on her. She was feeling betrayed because the man she thought she loved had not been charged (and was perhaps involved) in this situation. People were staring at her, she wasn't covered, and she was guilty of a sin. Instead of rebuking her, Jesus knelt down to write on the ground with His finger. Everyone in the crowd (remember -- he was teaching so there were LOTS of people there to see this) looked at him after the Pharisees threw her before Him to see what he was going to do. And he held their attention by doing nothing but drawing on the ground as though He didn't hear. THAT, my friends, just as Lisa said, was an act of mercy. It gave her one second, during the most humiliating moment of her life, when everyone was watching, of privacy. A moment, where she could re-adjust her blanket to ensure that she was covered. A moment when no one was looking at her anymore.

I can't tell the story as well as Lisa did, but it sincerely touched my heart, knowing that Our Lord is so merciful, and knows exactly what we are going through. He knows exactly when and how to extend that mercy to the people who follow Him, even when they've made a mistake and done the wrong thing.



The other story she told touched me even more deeply and even more personally than that. She was illustrating an example of how much God loves us and how He knows how we need to feel that. Her story was about her step-father, whom she loved and adored. Her real father wasn't reliable -- really, he wasn't much of a father. (hmm. Sound familiar?) She was out with her step-father at the mall and they met a group of women that he worked with years ago and hadn't seen in a while. She stood there as they talked, stiff, wondering how the situation was going to play out and what he was going to say about her. When one of the women took notice of the little girl standing next to him she said "Well, I'll be! She looks JUST LIKE YOU!"

Now. If you're like me... You've been in situations that are similar to this. You wonder what your step-father is going to say.. "Oh no, she's not mine.... She's my step-daughter." You start sweating and your heart races, and thoughts go through your mind, and you wonder. How much does he really love me.

Her step-father's answer was to turn to her pull her chin up so he could examine her face. He paused, and said "Yes. Yes, she does." That acceptance, the little tiny phrase that probably didn't mean much to that man, meant the entire world to that little girl.

It means more than anything else in the world, when you don't have a 'real' father. When your step-father is tested in such a way, when he could easily explain away that you are not his, but only a step-child, brought to him through marriage. One he cares about sure, but not HIS. The love that is given when you, as a step-child, are acknowledged as just a 'daughter' is truly the greatest gift a "step" father could ever extend to a "step" child. And yes, my step-father always introduces me as his daughter. And it means more to me than he'll ever be able to understand.

That kind of love, that kind of mercy, again is the kind of love our Heavenly Father has for us. We are His. We are not his step-children, we belong to him. No matter when you think you don't have a Father, or that you don't fit in -- you do. Even if you don't have a merciful step-parent who is able to make you feel so a part of his life, you are a part of His life.

By Now I may be...

...Pulling my hair out because I miss my husband and kid so much, OR having so much fun I never want to go home.

It's probably somewhere in the middle. I'll be back tomorrow and I'll have news of Texas, and maybe Arbys. Just don't mind if there's Arby's sauce splattered all over the screen and I make less sense than normal. Because if I've gotten Arby's, I'm probably drunk on all of the Roast Beefy goodness and jamocha shake-y-ness.

Yeah. It could be scary. Maybe I'll wait until the Arby's hangover is over to post. I'm not excited about Arby's on my way home Sunday. Nope. Not at all.

Friday Fun.

I'm warning you. This game is highly addictive. Very highly addictive. You don't want to go there. I swear. I first started playing this game a long time ago. Back when AOL was the best option for internet and 56K was fast. it's still addicting. Only now, there's more.

There is Traditional Slingo, Sling-Do-Ku" -- a combination of Slingo and Sudoku, and Triva Slingo. Not to mention the other bazillion addicting games on the site. I won't even talk about the entire day that I spent playing the endless version of Merry Poppings between visits to the bathroom and wrestling with Little Monster. Nope. We won't mention that. It just wouldn't be right.

And don't blame me when you sit down to play ONE game, just ONE game, and you look up and realize hours have passed, you've missed lunch. And suddenly it all makes sense that your child has been trying to eat his toys, pulling cake mixes and canned soups out of the pantry. That's just a hypothetical situation though. Have fun playing!

A first.

As you read this, I am most likely on an airplane somewhere between California and Texas. Or perhaps I'm in an airport bathroom. Who knows. Hopefully I'm not making use of any little paper airplane bags.

This is not the first time I've been on a plane. Far from it. It is, however, the first time I've spent more than a few hours away from Little Monster. The first time I've not been home at some point in the night to sneak into his room and look at his little quiet face, snuggle him and kiss him and watch the subtle smile that appears when he knows, even though he's unconscious, that his Mommy loves him.

I'm sure Not the Momma has all kinds of devious plans to eat nothing but donuts and pizza for four days while I'm gone. Or maybe not. They will probably spend the entire weekend outside getting dirty and doing all kinds of boy things that I don't want to know about.

I am going to miss watching Not the Momma be the awesome Daddy that he is, the kind of Daddy that makes my heart grow beyond the confines of my body. Yeah, I'll probably miss him too.

I am going to miss the weather here. We are going to have good weather this weekend. 75 degrees. And I'm going to miss it.

I'm going to miss a lot of things, but maybe we'll be able to get some Arby's on our way home from the Airport Sunday. Then it will all be worth it. If nothing else, I'll be able to sink my teeth into a warm roast beef sandwich with Arby's sauce, have a Jamocha shake and some fries. I won't miss not missing that.

He's a catch, mine husband.

Lately I've been feeling a mixture of guilt and depression. I know a majority of it is hormones. The rest of it, well, anyone would feel depressed. My house looks like a tornado went through followed by a hurricane and a tsunami. I'm spending most of my mornings in the bathroom ridding myself of the terrible toxins I've put into my stomach - food and drink - while yelling at Little Monster to stay out of the bathroom. I don't want him watching that. My husband is doing all of the work around here, even though he's the one that goes to work every day. It sucks that I am not doing more. Add all of that to the hormones, and you've got one brain working on overdrive.

So yesterday, when he came home from running some errands, I was thrown off when he brought me a gift. It was a new pair of pajamas.

Get your mind out of the gutter. Not that kind of pajamas. A warm snuggly pair of shirt/pants pajamas that's all pretty pink with stripes and silk edging. Yummy, nice, make a gal feel loved type of pajamas.

See what I mean? He's a catch. And I love him.

Skewed Reality

When you're caught between sleep and awake the lyrics:

"Dave's over there underneath the red hat"

sounds a lot like

"Dave's over there with a nicotine patch."

Disturbing lyrics on a children's TV show about smoking cessation aids will certainly help you move out of the realm between sleep and awake and into the world of the living quickly.

Um. This one's for you anonymous... How I weaned my kid.

Believe it or not, the number one search for this blog has to do with weaning. Apparently, back in August of 2007, I spent a lot of time pouring my heart out to the internets about the dillema. This post is my number one hit. I am by no means an expert, but I did get through it. And so will you. After all, I don't know any college kids that see their Mommy and rip up their shirt to get a little milk.

Anonymous -- A friendly hint.. I would happily update you with more information, but it's a lot easier if you leave a way for me to get in touch with you so that I can help. Because that's what I'm all about. Helping people.

***********************************************
Wow. I spent the past few minutes going through old blog posts. I no longer feel guilty about the empty baby book. It's all right here. First steps, notations of first words, dancing, the whole bit. Even some mushy goodness.

And right along with all of that there were several times that I talked about nursing Little Monster. From when I didn't know if I nursing was going to work, the battlw between my laziness and independent sleep, controversy over where and when I should nurse, my personal dilemma about when I should wean, weaning itself, it's setbacks, the final, actual weaning and of course, the aftermath.

Weaning was slow and gradual for us. I started by not feeding him for the least necessary feeding -- the one he was least emotionally attached to. After a couple of days, he was used to not getting nursed at that time, so I moved on to another time. I believe I got rid of the nursing sessions in this order: middle of the night, mid-morning, mid-afternoon, first thing in the morning, mid-evening, lunchtime, and bedtime. As you introduce solids and foods, you're helping the weaning process. There were a couple of rough days when I was sore from being engorged. There were a couple of times when he whined and wanted to nurse, and I gave in. All in all it took about a month or two to wean him completely.

Oh, I also forgot. I broke the rules. I gave my baby whole milk. Because he refused to drink formula. He was fully weaned at about 11 months. I nursed him at bedtime for a lot longer than I took between phasing out the sessions. I gradually worked him off of that too. I'd nurse for 5 minutes, then 3 minutes, then 2 minutes, then no more. After I nursed him, I rocked him close and held him for a few minutes before putting him to bed.

So, if you're looking for help as to how to wean, hopefully this has helped you. If it hasn't, you can certainly google "how to wean" and get some assvice from experts.

And I'm sorry to those of you who thought you were going to get a break from talking about my breasts and their secretions. This should be the last one... For a while. A few months at least.

Dear Bloggy Friends...

I am going to miss you. I have had to unsubscribe from a few blogs recently. Blogs that I loved. Blogs that aren't normally full of heavy reading, political opinions, and insults to me. But recently, that has changed. Many of the people I have read for months have suddenly decided that I am a jerk. And they've told me so, and many in some not-so-kind words, and a few with graphics as well. I understand they weren't directly JUST at me, but they were directed at my friends, and the people that I spend quite a bit of time with. So, yes. I have decided to unsubscribe. Because you have hurt my feelings by directly insulting me based on my political and religious beliefs. A genre of blogs that is normally about fun and family has turned much darker, and I didn't like it.

I was a supporter of John McCain. Period. My husband is in the military, and democrats like to get rid of the military. I didn't think that some of the policies Obama was going to put into effect were financially responsible. But do you know what? Now, I support Obama. Because he, in a few short months, will be the President. As in, the person who is in charge of the company my husband works for. He can order my husband to his death if he feels it is best for our country. So I will pray for the new President, and try to support him. That is the way I am. I am appalled that there are people who threatened to leave America should McCain take office. I didn't consider leaving (unless we get stationed overseas) -- never once -- based on who was elected to be president.

I have mixed feelings about Prop 8, but I kind of understand the reasons for it. Churches would be in trouble if Prop 8 failed. Because they could be SUED for following their religious beliefs by discriminating about who could be married in their church. I think that life is confusing enough without the schools teaching my kid about a whole new faction of relationships. I don't need to explain how a family with two daddy's or two mommies can have babies, when I've told him it takes a Mommy and a Daddy.

I agree with the passing of Prop 4. Prop 4 required a minor's doctor to notify her parents before they get an abortion. I don't think that's right. Because folks, not everyone loves their kids. Not every family is happy. Not every parent is responsible enough to do the right thing when their troubled teenager comes to them with the biggest problem they've probably ever had. I don't want a girl to get beat to death by her parents because she wasn't getting the love she wanted from them, turned to the wrong person, and got herself in a bad situation. I don't want her to go to some black market abortionist to take care of her problems and end up unable to ever have kids, because things weren't sterilized or done properly. Have we not learned from history? Women are going to do things to get rid of their precious babies if they are desperate to get rid of them. Isn't it better that if they are SO desperate to make that decision that they do it RIGHT, instead of dangerously!?

So. There you have it. Those are my beliefs. I had quit reading new blogs, because I had too many to read... But, now I have been able to drop quite a few people who have flipped me off, called me a bad name, and insulted me based on my beliefs. Because, folks, I'm not afraid to share MY opinions with you. But if you don't agree with me, I'm not going to attack you personally. I'll just agree to disagree. That's how we're different. And that's why I can't be your friend anymore.

Avoidance...

I've pretty much avoided politics lately. For many good reasons. I still kind of am, but there are few things that bug me:

1. The Electoral College bothers me. Why should someone who recieves 50% of the popular vote get 2/3 of the electoral vote. I would feel the same way had the election gone the other way. In the days when your vote really does count (at one point Obama and McCain were 18 votes different in Nebraska), you kind of feel like it doesn't if you live in a state with 55 electoral votes, and you KNOW that the candidate you choose is not going to win that state. Hypothetically.

2. The media angers me. Journalists are supposed to be non-partisan aren't they? Why is it that newspapers and places that are supposed to be informing people about the pros/cons of voting one way or the other can take a side? Doesn't that make their reporting biased if they promote one position??

And now we're moving on... Getting ready to see what this new president will in fact be able to do for us. I am a bit concerned about the Democrats being in control of EVERYTHING... Mostly, because they generally are nasty to the military and that's our main source of income. And because they like to control everyone's lives by legislating things that don't need to be legislated -- like common sense. But that's just my opinion. If people are too stupid to use common sense, then they deserve the consequenses.

What are your thoughts on the electoral college and the media??

Warning! This post contains graphic material.

No pictures of b.oobies or anything perverted. Just discussion of vomit. Stop reading now, or forever hold your peace.


I don't know what went through my mind last night when I decided to take my prenatal. I haven't been able to take it for a few days. I really don't know what went through my mind when I took the Omega 3 fatty acid gel pill. You know, the one made from FISH OIL. It tastes like vanilla when you swallow it.

I figured out why it tastes like vanilla. The vanilla covers up the fact that it's made from FISH OIL. I took the vitamins because I thought for sure since I haven't been able to keep any food in my stomach, I needed some nutrition... Why I thought the pills would stay when food doesn't, I have no idea. Alas, the pills were rejected. And the fish oil pills -- they don't taste like vanilla the second time. They taste like.....

Well, if you've ever been to Omaha, going to say, a dance club... and you've parked in the Absolutely Fresh parking lot... They taste a lot like that.... Let's just say that if you've never smelled Absolutely Fresh... it's most definitely NOT fresh smelling... It smells more like a bunch of dead fish have been heaped in the alley for a week or so -- in 100 degree weather. I'm sure it wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been for the fishy resonance.

Not the Momma is afraid I'll never be able to go to the beach again... I told him no.. The beach on its worst day smells as good as freshly washed laundry in comparison.

Lesson learned: No more fish pills. Ever. Ever. Again.

The end.

I was sitting here on the couch, minding my own business when I felt a breeze. A cold breeze. I thought it was odd.

And then I heard it. The sound of the back door shutting. Little Monster was the only one in his toy room. The dogs were outside. Not the Momma was sitting a few feet away from me on the couch. Surely Little Monster hasn't learned how to open doors with the safety 'toddler-proof' handle covers installed? I must have not completely closed the door when I let the dogs out.

After letting the dogs in, and locking the deadbolt it happened again. A cold rush of air wrapped around my ankles, followed by the marked slam of the back door. No one in the house had moved. Except, of course Little Monster. He has learned how to open doors -- despite safety covers, despite locked dead-bolts. At least he doesn't know how to unlock the handles yet. When that happens, the world will surely end.

Especially because lately I don't have the patience to deal with that in a humane, friendly, loving, motherly way. It is very difficult to have patience with a child whose main source of entertainment is running his dump truck into the dogs and then letting out a shrill high-pitched scream that I'm certain is setting off car alarms around the county. I can deal with that normally, but when I'm hunched over my favorite porcelain chair trying not to let my eyes fall out of my head, trying not to pee my pants as my stomach hurls its contents out with enough force to stop the rotation of the earth, I lose my patience a little quicker than normal.

We're on the way to the Wal-Marts to get some Zofran. It's a very limited supply, so I'm saving it for those days when I want to leave the house looking like a human being who is more than three seconds from death. And for next week when I am travelling to Dallas for a conference. Let's just pray that my health insurance isn't a jerk today and thinks that I should be allowed to drink and eat... and you know, not visit the hospital for IVs.

Oh yeah. If my dog exhales within three feet of my face again, I'm giving it away to a random commenter. Which dog? Yes. They come with a supply of food, toys, medicines, and a kennel.*

*I'm kidding. -Maybe.

Favorite...

This has become one of my favorite songs... It is just so true.

Thanks Eden for posting it on your blog!!