Surreal

By now I am sure you have heard of the incredibly unbelievable "mix-up" of two college students who were involved in a tragic accident several weeks ago. I was utterly speechless upon learning the details. I cannot imagine the shock and intense emotions either family has had to endure today.

BUT - I am amazed at the faith and grace these people (the family and their friends) have shown throughout the entire ordeal. If you have not read their blog, be sure to take the time to do so. What loving people the VanRyns are.

The Monster I Have Created

The other title I was toying with for this post was "My Own Personal Monster." Obviously I have been listening to some late 80's and early 90's music. Major kudos to anyone who can figure out which bands from my two post titles. I'm willing to bet no one gets them both - one yes, but not both.

Anyhoo, I am a BAAAD Mommy. I have no one to blame for my rotten baby but myself. You would think that after two kids, I would be able to handle the latest edition. I didn't do so bad with the first two. Granted, they will probably be in therapy for some portion of their lives, but hey, at least I didn't kill them (yet) right? The baby, on the other hand, is a lesson in childrearing that NO book has printed yet.

You see, he will NOT nap. Let me clarify, he will not take an afternoon nap despite the fact that he is exhausted. He takes a short morning nap, but when he is REALLY tired and REALLY needs it - no dice. I fully admit that this is because I was lazy, though I prefer to think of it as absentmindedness due to my "advanced maternal age" (a condition that was actually written on my medical chart). I'll fess up - I allowed him to take his afternoon nap in the swing everyday for about a month not so long ago. Don't hate - at least I was able to get the dishes done (read that - "do my own thing such as crafts, watching bad television, etc"). Of course I am now paying for it in spades. As this is how my luck runs, the kid has outgrown the swing (at 8 months). Remember that pathetic skinny little preemie? He's a complete pudgeball now. His feet hang over the edge of the swing and it creaks a really scary death march when it tries to propel the chunky baby back and forth. In the interest of safety (and a healthy fear of CPS), we have retired the swing.

This brings up the other bad habit that I have allowed the child to develop over the past couple of months. Again, it is most probably my "advanced maternal issue." When I didn't plop the kid in the swing, I allowed him to nap on my shoulder as I also napped. Ouch. That's painful to admit.

So here we are trying to unlearn bad habits. He rubs his eyes, he yawns, he nurses until he's sleepy (no I am not allowing him to fall asleep while nursing) and yet...NOTHING. NADA. ZIP. SCREAMFEST. The last several days have been interesting. As you may have read in my last post, he has done everything from screaming himself hoarse to screaming so long in intervals (i.e. he screams, takes a 5 minute break then screams again) that his eyes get swollen, the temperature in his room raises to "hellfire" from all the hot air and I end up waiting for the authorities, that the neighbors have certainly called, to arrive. This kid looks so bad after these episodes that yesterday one of my friends swore he had been smoking dope. He had all the signs: red half closed eyes, stupid grin, babbling incoherently, the munchies. It is pitiful.

People wonder why I drink. I can only hope that I live through this latest "challenge" before I become a card carrying alcoholic. It's not looking very promising.

I'm Rather Pathetic

I have this whole post in rough draft form about how I have ruined my son (the baby one). It's true and probably very amusing, if you are NOT me. I'll post it here shortly, but instead of editing and posting that simple little excerpt of my pathetic life, what have I done this evening? I spent my time online actually registering on Pfaltzgraff.com with an anniversary/wedding registry. How pathetic is that really? I highly recommend it though. You don't ever have to show it to anyone. It's just fantasy and FUN! And don't we deserve at least a little bit of fun...Somewhere? Who are we hurting? No one. And if a friend happens to buy from our registry as a gift and you happen to buy from hers, what can the hubbster say? Absolutely nothing.

Honestly I am chalking it up to my completely crappy day filled with a baby who refused to nap (and screamed himself hoarse - for the third day in a row), a Princess who not only had soccer practice but more homework and studying for her SOLs (Standards of Learning tests which I HATE - don't get me going!) than she could possibly handle in ONE evening, despite the sports; a teenager moping through the usual angst, stressed about his SOLs, just generally grumpy and of course cranking his music up to 800+ decibels to make my teeth fall out of my head. Did I mention the latest - the eyeliner? *sigh*

Anywho - real post is coming soon. I just had WAY too much fun tonight registering on the Pfaltzgraff site. It brings one back to the days when we believed in Santa. "Oh Fat Red Man, please bring me the 48 - piece Grapevine set. I've been good! I promise!"

HAHA! If you're in the mood, register and enjoy (at ANY site/registry you want). I promise it will make you feel better. It's like retail therapy without the big credit card bills. It doesn't get much better than this (and still keep you out of bankruptcy!)

What's not to love?

Enjoy!

Let's Keep This Between Us For Now

Can I confide in you? This is rather traumatic for me. I don't know if I have the strength to persevere. Please understand that it has been 35+ years (give or take a few). My friends, I have decided to grow out my bangs. I haven't told anyone yet, lest I lose my courage and trim them. Oh fine, chuckle if you must, but seriously I have had bangs for as long as I can remember, whether or not they were fashionable. You have to understand that my bangs have always been a comfort to me. They've been a part of my life, forever, for better or worse:

In 1969 the bangs were born. Not me, the bangs. I was bald for at least the first 2 years of my life. It took a couple more years before I even had enough hair to cut bangs from.

In the 70's the bangs were thick and ragged. My mother used to cut them herself. Pictures of me then look like my hair was trimmed by a drunken sailor with hedge trimmers. Mom swears I was a "fidgetter." No one fidgets that much.

The 80's saw my bangs take on a life of their own. They were BIG and feathered. It was a good thing that the rest of my hair was styled in a "maintenance-free" spiral perm, because it took a good hour just to get the bangs perfected.

In the 90's they were sparser than they had ever been, but they were still there. Cut with a razor and "tapered," the wisps gave me just enough cover to be comfortable in a crowd.

Now, in the 21st Century, they look dated. REALLY dated, especially when I trim them myself. I have apparently become the drunken sailor with hedge trimmers.

SO there you have it. I'm growing them out. I am going to be in style for the first time in my life, even if it kills me. It's been 4 days. They're already on my nerves.

I Only Get ONE Day?

Yes my friends, this is my Mother's Day post. The title harks back to an on going dialog that I have with the Princess of Wails EVERY year at this time. She is a bit incensed that Moms get a whole day and yet, there is no "Kids Day." Of course my response is that EVERY day is kids day. Duh.

Anyhoo, it is the middle of the night and I am still scammbling to be sure everything is perfect for my Mom, my MIL and my BIL and his wife (my SIL). Notice I am not concerned about my FIL and my Dad? They'll be happy with any tribute to our Moms that we come up with. We've begun "Mother's Day Eve" if you will...and all I can think of is the very BEST Mother's Day ever. I don't think they can ever top it. My mind drifts back to last year at this time. I was 39, working on my Master's Degree and surprisingly pregnant (just found out!), which was certainly NOT in our plan (the preggers part). That May I was beside myself with MY stuff - what was I going to do about school? How could I handle another child? Could I survive an infant? How could we afford it? Would the kids feel slighted? Dear Lord where were we going to put this one? And on and on...ad nauseum. Hopelessly pitiful, yes?

The Lord works in mysterious ways, and though He has a pretty awesome sense of humor, he makes it all work out in the end. The Baby was 7 weeks early (born at 33 weeks), but you would NEVER know it now. We spent 2 1/2 weeks in the level two nursery, and it was the most terrifying time of my life - bar none. Not only is he a BIG boy, he's pretty advanced - at least I think so. We have been blessed.

BUT I HAVE SO DIGRERSSED!!! I meant to talk about THE BEST Mother's Day EVER. It happened last year (I was preggers with the Baby). I have to tell you that for the first day in history, My beloved children made me breakfast in bed as a surprise. They made it all by themselves....seriously. (And Frighteningly since I am the chef in house!) My friends, I lay in bed dreaming about several more house of sleep. I was instead to be feted with my Mother's Day Breakfast Surprise.

The eggs were runny, the waffles were burned on one side, the coffee was incredibly bitter. The orange juice was "extra pulp" (when I can only drink pulp free). I choked down every bit of it. My kids were happy - I was loved.

Bingo - Another sucessful year!

Can We Be Serious?

OK. so the Hubster and I were watching the tube tonight while The Milk Leech was winding down. I do so love my NBC, so we were catching yet another episode of Dateline and their "To Catch a Predator" series. For those of you who are unfamiliar, this is a "sting" operation that has been set up to catch and expose (in such an embarrasing and satisfying way!) creeps who try to solicit sex with underage kids.

In the past, I have TiVo'ed these episodes and forced my kids to watch them. The Prince and Priness were sufficiently freaked out. Couple that with the fact that we constantly monitor them online, and I feel cautiously safe. Oh yeah and there is the fact that Hubby and I have a background in computers (not to mention my ex'es profession as a network guru). They cannot make a keystroke that we don't record. Communisim? Nazism? Who cares, they are my kids. Let them sue me!

Anyhoo, the "question of the evening" tonight was this:

Have there always been this many perverts and pedophiles in the world, OR does the Internet contribute and manufacture more of them? Is it the fantasyland provided by the annonymity of a computer screen? Do some people take it too far, get caught up and go over the edge? Or were they nasty felons to begin with?

Keep in mind, I don't care what the answer is - I am not making excuses nor advocating for disgusting perverts. I think any and all people who solicit underage kids for sex should be punished to the fullest extent of the law (and then turned over to the victim's parents). I am just curious why there seem to be so MANY incidents of this now than when I was a kid.

Rainy Days and Mondays

Babies who wake up screaming at 4:00am are a harbinger of the rest of your day.

Said babies are far more cranky than usual.

The mother of a cranky baby gets incredibly crabby herself.

Dogs with small bladders and even smaller brains are afraid of the rain.

Dogs who are afraid of the rain will attempt to hold it for approximately 1 hour and 47 minutes.

The pouring rain will last for 1 hour and 53 minutes. You do the math. Be sure to factor in the only carpet in the entire house. Which was just cleaned.

The number of times your over-excitable soccer Mom friend will call you in the morning (every half an hour until you answer the phone) is exponential to the number of hours of sleep you lost the previous night.

Multiply that number by 2 if the baby is finally napping with you.

Multiply that number again by 2 if your daughter has left her telephone handset with the incredibly obnoxious ring in your room.

It is a safe bet that when you resemble a sleep deprived zombie with the corresponding attention span of a gnat, you will not get a shower.

Children who waltz in from school with all the subtlety of a Mardi-Gras parade, thus waking the baby you have been desperately trying to get to take an afternoon nap and announce, "what's your problem?" risk imminent death.

So...how was your day?

Response

Recently life has really kicked me in the tookus. There is baby crap and kid school crap and house crap and family crap and well, I've been up to my booty in the proverbial crap for some time and can't seem to get my act together (no surprise, right?). This blog has been on my mind though - a LOT! You see I have at least a zillion (give or take) posts started both on my computer and on scratch paper. I actually lay in bed some nights composing posts. They're good, too. Trust me (but then again, I drink). I finally got smart a couple of nights ago and put a pad of paper next to the bed so I could jump up and record my brilliance. In the morning however, I realized that I probably should have turned on the light before writing.

Anyhoo, I really do have some catch up posts to write. If you will indulge me one more night, I promise not to troll eBay again until I write something worthwhile. Wait. Was that out loud?! OUCH. I.can.do.it.

In the meantime, I am responding to previous comments as a post because I am really cheesy like that. Enjoy the fromage:

Nanner - Thank you for declaring The Baby as your favorite Easter Bunny so far. My only defense for those pictures is that my MIL does it to him. Hopefully someday he will remember that it was she and not I when he relates the experience on his shrink's couch.

Julie - I wish he was at your house, too, especially when he refuses to go to sleep.

Deanna - God makes them cute so we don't kill them.

Jeanette - See the response above (happy everything to you, too!)

Diana - You are too sweet! I will save this to show him someday when he is a teen who hates everything about himself (like my other son).

Esther - Back at ya Babycakes!

Moo Moo - You wouldn't say that if you saw him tonight covered in pureed peas.

JamDaddy - Lovey, my kids don't seem to grow actual hair until they pass their 2nd birthday. We have the pictures to prove it. Sadly, he still has way more hair than his Daddy!

Beth - Back at ya Babe! So did you survive tax season?

Little Miss - A migraine? NO! I hope you had good drugs to ride it out at least. I can't wait to catch up on your spring break adventure!

Liz - At some point weren't you supposed to be in my neck of the woods?

My Good Twin - Email me. Let's plan a trip this year. I promise I am not preggers.

Jerri Ann - I wish I had known you were getting rid of them. I would have made you an offer. As it is, my MIL buys them for the kid. Apparently they are great to chew on and then throw on the floor (based on his only interaction with them so far). The sad part is that I am sure they cost WAY more than his favorite toys, which happen to be boxes, paper towels, tissue boxes and stray diapers.

Nina - You are too kind! I will post more instead of spending money on eBay...really. I will. No. For real. I promise.

So there you go my friends. I have posted the ultimate cop out. Forgive me. Could I suck more? I don't think so.