Monkey Soup

The Monkies are Moving...

2011-05-13T15:31:00.000-05:00

I am moving!

To WordPress.

I bought my own Domain name and everything!

Please come to makingmonkeysoup.com.

Also, please bare with me while I get stuff they way I want it....

Stuck.

2011-05-11T16:00:00.000-05:00

That crap yesterday just has had me stuck all day today. I finally finished the email to send to the schools, and just hit send. This is what I said. I hope somebody listens.

The other day I pulled the New Student Registration form from the
Public Schools website, in order to register my youngest
daughter for Kindergarten. I was half way through completing the
first page of the form, when I came to the section that asks for the
parent information.

I am stunned that in 2011, it is possible for you to still have "Birth
Mother" and "Birth Father" listed on this form.

Families are created in many ways. They come as Grandparents
parenting children, Step-parents parenting children, Adoptive and/or
Foster parents parenting their children.

It is offensive and invasive, to many families, to have this language
on the form.

I am my daughter's Mother. My husband is her Father. We did adopt
our youngest child, not that that is anyones business but our own.

There are many same sex couples that will be registering their
children for school. In case you didn't realize it, the State of Iowa
made it legal for these couples to legally marry in Iowa on April 3,
2009. It is legal for them to adopt, and for them to give birth to
their own biological children, yet when they register their children
for school there is not a space for each parent to put their
own names down for their child.

I would like to see the form changed to say, "Parent" or "Guardian."
I can't possibly be the only parent who has noticed this issue.

Please give changing the form some consideration.

Sincerely,

Kelly Monkeysoup

I guess we'll see what happens. In the mean time, I'm going to do what Rockygrace suggested and cross out the "Birth" on the form. Leave it as Mother's Full Name and Father's Full Name, for now, until they change the form.

Forms...

2011-05-10T15:26:00.000-05:00

So technically today I can finally enroll Mea for kindergarten, I really can't believe it. I swear just yesterday she came home, and she was just a little twenty pounder. Now she's this big almost five year old girl.

We had to apply for Open Enrollment, to see if the public schools would allow her to attend the school that our sitter takes/picks up from. We got the notice that this was approved last month. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, because the last thing that I would have wanted to do is to change sitters. We love ours like family, and it would have been completely heartbreaking for all of us, if we would have had to change. She watched Mack from the time she was 5 until she finished grade school. It's just amazing that she was able to take Mea when she did. She had quit taking babies, and made an exception for Mea, because she was our child.

I pulled the form up that I needed to fill our for enrollment.

I just started filling it out, and then I got past Mea's information and on to our own.

That's when the form decided to play mind games with me.

Form

I am Mea's mother. I know this. She knows this. I know that she is adopted. I was there in the courtroom, and testified. She knows this as well. We talk about it. But, this form did a total sneak attack on me. All of the sudden, it was like the day that her Birth Certificate showed up in the mail, after her adoption was finalized. That "Birth Mother" staring out at the page to me, when I had never been anywhere near the city my daughter was born in, at the time of her birth. Yet, her birth certificate says that I was.

Why can't the form just say, "Mother?" Or "Guardian?" I would have to think that the "Birth Mother/Birth Father" section is just as annoying to any gay/lesbian couples out there.

For goodness sakes, it's legal for gay and lesbian couples to marry in the state of Iowa. How can this form have been overlooked this many times?

This is 2011, do we really need to differentiate all this on a form? Does it matter if she came from my body or my heart? No, it doesn't. The form should be different. It is simply unacceptable in this day and age.

Maybe it shouldn't be this big of a deal. Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe a piece of paper shouldn't be allowed to hurt your feelings.

But it has, and it did. I think that an email to the schools may be in order.

I can't be the only one who noticed.

Little Wild Animals...

2011-05-09T11:23:00.000-05:00

I hope that everyone had a wonderful Mother's Day! We had a pretty nice, uneventful day. We met my Mom, Dad, sister and her family for breakfast early, to beat the crowds. When we were done, Mackenzie decided to take her sister and little cousins to the zoo.

It was pretty nice to have a couple of hours to myself. My husband had softball games all day, so he was out from underfoot too! The girls had a great time at the zoo, even though it is under construction, and they couldn't see all of it that they are used to seeing. I had sent Mack with a bit of money, and the little kids all got their faces painted. Super cute. I bet that they were the cutest animals at the zoo.

A pony, a tiger, and I don't know what Mea was...

When Mack and Mea got home, we ran to the grocery store, and Mea's meltdown for the day began. She was so tired. I washed her face paint off because I knew she was going to fall asleep, and that added to the meltdown. She really wanted to keep it on for school today, it was half gone from her crying meltdown at the store. She passed out cold ten minutes later, and slept for two hours. Sleepy head.

Mack is all done with school. Her last day was Friday, she came home Saturday afternoon after checking out of the dorm. All of her things had already been moved to the apartment she's moved into, so she really just had to turn in her keys.

I got the best gift from her yesterday. She worked on it all last week between studying for finals. I still cannot believe how talented my oldest daughter is. Sometimes I just look at the things she does in total awe. I don't know what she is going to end up doing with her artistic talent, but I know whatever it is she does it's going to be something spectacular. I know it's not just me that thinks this. Her professors are seeing it, and saying it too.

Little Sister by Mack

She is framing it for me today. I'm going to hang it in my office. I still just can't believe how amazing it is. Maybe someday soon, I'll be seeing drawings and paintings by Mack in an art gallery. I wouldn't be surprised.

My Girls...

2011-05-07T11:00:00.000-05:00

Without my girls, I wouldn't be a Momma.

I am so glad to have them all.

This silly one...

Nice jammie feet, made into Bunny Ears...

That super arty fun girl too...

Someone got a 99/100 on their Drawing Final! Yay!

Happy Mother's Day to my Momma friends, I hope you have a wonderful day!

Violated.

2011-05-06T10:16:00.000-05:00

My workplace was violated yesterday.

It comes with the territory in what I do, but that doesn't make things any easier.

I can't say what happened or where I work, or anything else, but I do know that this whole thing pisses me off. I'm mad. It's not the first time I've been through this, not even the first time this year, but it's affecting my people, and they are kind of like my kids in a way.

I can't stand to see them upset. Or crying. Or worried. It just makes me sick.

I am well aware that times are tough out there. I know that people are having a hard time making ends meet. I know that this is an "easy way" for some. A way to get three square meals a day, and roof over their head. If they only knew what it does. How long it takes for my girls to get back to "normal." The "what if's?" it causes.

My people know what to do. They are well trained on what to do, and how to respond. That doesn't make it any easier.

Hopefully, this is it for a while. I don't know if we could take another one anytime soon.

Some Boy Talk...

2011-05-05T13:03:00.000-05:00

Since I have daughters, and have limited experience with children of the male flavor, much of what I learn about little boys comes from my friend Holly. She has two sons, they are 7 and 9.

They don't live all too close to us, so much of what I learn is via Facebook.

I can tell you that little boys are a bit weird.

One of her sons has a secret Ninja society on the playground at school, he is the Sensei, and the other children have to complete 20 different playground activities in order to join.

She watched a son put down his napkin so he could wipe his mouth with his hand.

During all the Valentines Day, Kay Jewelers commercials, "Every kick in the balls begins with K."

Yesterday, one of her sons asked, "Mom, is it possible to fart out of your weenie?"

This last one made me nearly pee my pants, I don't know how she can keep it together.

It's almost as good as Mea telling me last night that she just likes the word "boobie" because it was a funny word.

Almost as good.

Smells all Springy...

2011-05-04T14:29:00.001-05:00

I love living at my house in the Spring. In April of 2002, we purchased this home. I seriously think that I got suckered by the trees. I love them. The house is small, which I thought would be better at that time (less space to clean, less likely to turn into a revolving door for the big ones, etc.), it's not. I miss our big house we used to rent, all the time.

Except for in the Spring.

Crab Apple Tree

We have six of these blooming right now. Two white, two light pink, one dark pink, and one that is almost blood red. They are so beautiful. They also smell wonderful. The whole neighborhood smells like their blossoms.

Soon when we get a hard rain, the flowers will be gone, and it will rain petals all over the yard, driveway, and street. The petals will get tracked into the house by us, by the dog and anyone else who stops by.

But for now, they smell great, and they are just so nice to look at.

Remind me of this post if I start complaining in the Fall about the birds eating the crab apples off of our two female trees, and crapping all over the place....

Hair Today, Hair Tomorrow...

2011-05-03T16:30:00.000-05:00

I'm getting ever so frustrated with my small girl and her hair. She is making me crazy over it. She fights now about getting it done. I have tried so hard for so long to keep her natural, and do what I think is the right thing, but I'm telling you, if we have another morning like this one we'll be doing something drastic.

I'm not talking about doing a perm, or a relaxer or anything. I just honestly don't even know. I just know that I can't have her screaming and crying at me every single morning anymore.

It starts both of our days off just awful.

I've tried getting her up early. I've done her hair before I get ready myself.

I have attempted to do hairstyles that can stay in, and just be touched up a little. This works best, but let's be honest here. She's four, almost five. She's nuts. Nothing stays in and looks "nice" for long. You can't roll around on the floor doing somersaults, and headstands, and let's not even start on what her batting helmet for softball does to her head. Or playing hide and seek under the blankets, or under the bed, or God knows what else.

I just don't know what to do.

I was the victim of an Ogilvie Home Perm, my mom gave me when I was 3 or 4. I wouldn't even consider doing anything myself to my child. I just need to find a way to stop the crying.

I let her wear her hair out on Saturday, and she was crazy all day. She loves it. Until it's time to make it not be out anymore. It really only looks good one day. Then after she sleeps on her Afro, it looks all crazy and matted, and needs a shower a ton of conditioner, and heavy artillery to get the tangles out.

The only answer I can come up with in short order, instead of taking her somewhere and A) Cutting all her hair off. Or B) Have someone put a texturizer in her hair, is that I need to learn how to braid. I have to. For real this time.

I think that I am going to call the local beauty schools and see if they just offer a braiding class, or if they might have a student that would be willing to teach me, if I paid them. I need to be able to practice on someone other then Mea. When I get to her head, I just need to know what the heck I'm doing.

Doesn't she look adorable? Please ignore cat litter box in the photo....

I've looked at videos online, and I've seen other things out there as well, but I just can't learn from that. I am totally a hands on type. I need to see it with my eyes, and do it with my hands, otherwise I will never get it. I am determined, and this is going to be a battle that I win.

The Bambino...

2011-05-02T10:56:00.000-05:00

Mea had her first softball practice yesterday.

It was a bit chilly, but I don't think she noticed.

I, on the other hand, froze my ass off in the bleachers for an hour. I forgot about that part. Next practice, remember a blanket for Momma.

The practice started with them practicing grounders, which is really all they will ever do at this age. Mea already knows what to do after hours of practice in the backyard with Daddy. Here is where her boredom started.

They had to take turns. When it wasn't her turn, my kid was the one playing in the dirt. Piling up piles of sand. Swishing them over with her shoes. Getting filthy. That's the point of softball at this age right?

Then they practiced batting off the tee. A few other girls went first, Mea is still playing in the dirt. It gets to Mea's turn, her coach is trying to line her up on the left side of the plate to bat right handed. Mea had gone to the right side of the tee, where she knows she needs to bat from. I called out, "She's a lefty!" The coach mumbled something about, "Oh, great..." I don't quite know what difference it makes, but whatever. There are plenty of famous left handed players, for crying out loud. She sets her back up on the right, Mea's in her stance, the coach starts explaining, I guess in her version of "softball little kid speak" for Mea to choke up on the bat. I just hollered at her, "Mea, choke up!"

The coach just looked at me, like "Oh, great,...one of those Mom's." So, not the case, but we don't baby Mea about anything really. We have never baby talked to her, we tell her like it is. Anyway, she choked up, and let loose, and hit a line drive past 3rd base. Where no one was standing. Once someone reminded her to run, she made it to first base with no problem.

Then they practiced fielding. The coaches husband would hit balls to them, in turns to have them throw to first base, with the kids taking turns at first. Mea's interest was dwindling. I think if it had been up to her at that point she'd have been making sand angels in the dirt.

Softball girl.

Should be an interesting softball season. There were two little girls who wouldn't even step out onto the field. Half of the team didn't show up for practice, and God help the coach, Mea's not the only lefty...

Hall of Fame Bound?

2011-04-30T09:52:00.000-05:00

Mackenzie is staying in the city that Yellow State is in permanently. Well, at least until she is done with school. She and a couple of her friends have gotten an apartment. The rent is quite affordable, less then the dorm. The house that the apartment is part of is across the street from the College of Design, which is where the majority of her classes are.

Yesterday, she came up and got her car. I tried to set some rules with it, since it's a million years old, and has twice as many miles as that on it, but I know she'll do what she wants. I just hope that she doesn't drive the 2 hours away to go visit her boyfriend at his college, her car would not last very long at all if she did this.

Part of the agreement in her living off campus was that she was to get a job. I wasn't going to help her pay her rent when she could come home and live here for free. I think this only makes sense. She wants to be treated like an adult, make adult decisions, she needs to be treated as such.

She applied for a part-time position with the company that I work for, only in Yellow State City, she didn't get that job. I was a little surprised, but I don't think her fall schedule worked well with what they needed. I honestly don't think that she applied anywhere else. I've asked over and over again where she had applied at, what she thought she was going to be doing just to get no answer, or "I'm scared to apply."

She had only really ever had one job before, and it was at Dairy Queen. One of her friends basically got her the job. They have a "friend" referral application, so she didn't even have to fill out a real application. I think her interview there lasted ten minutes, and then she was hired. Not a very good experience for interviews, etc.

When she came home to get the car yesterday, I asked again what she was going to do.

She has taken a job on campus as a student janitor.

This totally cracks me up. The girl can't clean her room. I would have to beg to get the dishes done. She does laundry when her clothes are standing up, or she runs out of underwear.

She has no idea what they are going to have her do. She didn't ask. She just knows that it's 8 hours of work a day, all summer long, at $9 bucks per hour.

We'll see how long this lasts...

Hopefully she doesn't have to do laundry. Remember we had that whole cereal bowl in the washing machine incident.

Maybe she'll learn some valuable skills. You know there is a Hall of Fame for Janitors. Stephen King and Jim Carrey are both in there....maybe someday, Mack will be too.

Like how to properly clean a toilet, or how to take out the trash, or how to vacuum more then just the middle of the room...

The Freds...

2011-04-29T10:14:00.000-05:00

When Mack was about five, she and I lived in a little white house. I mean little. Tiny. Itty bitty. Living room, kitchen, one bedroom (Mack's) and a bathroom that was added on at some point when plumbing was invented, seriously.

The house was originally a guest house, or maid's quarters, or something along those lines. It was a total of 694 square feet, but it was a house. We had a yard. It was close to my parents, close to work, and most importantly, when I was a poor single Momma, it was cheap. I couldn't hardly complain over $350 a month for rent. We made do.

The house was owned by my best friend's grandmother, G. It was across the street from G's house, and my friend's mom lived right behind us. My friend's business was across the street the other way, and I was always completely surrounded by her family. They are my little Italian family.

G is 93 years old, still lives at home, still comes out to baseball and softball games for all the kids, and just in general rocks. She is my other grandma. She has adopted my kids as her surrogate great-grandkids, and gets them special gifts for Easter, Halloween, and Christmas. Sends special cards to them, has sent care packages to Mack at Yellow State, she is one special lady.

Mack and I lived in the white house for about two and half years. She had just turned five, until we all moved in together with my husband.

The house itself was fine. However, we had some extra "friends" that we had to deal with.

They were the "Freds."

They were named so I could get Mack to quit freaking out about them.

The Freds were Boxelder bugs. The white house was a Mecca for them, it was white, the west side of the house was open to the sun, it was stucco, and they sunbathed like they belonged on Real Housewives of Miami.

I tried everything to get rid of them. Insect killers, an exterminator, home remedies, everything under the sun. Nothing killed those little assholes. Nothing. So rather then kill them, I just learned to deal with them.

The cats had a jolly time with them. They loved leaping after them, and killing them. I'm sure they were full of all kinds of protein, I got to quit buying kitty snacks for quite a while.

There were times when my friends would come over for movies, wine and such, and they would get flicked at my friends for a Fred war.

Good thing Boxelder Bugs are harmless, because we wouldn't have been living there long if they hadn't been. I was able to deal with the Freds. Really.

When the two field mice made it into the house, that's when I freaked clear the hell out.

Four Going on Fourteen...

2011-04-28T10:57:00.000-05:00

Someone had a bit of an attitude problem.

I think that we have messed with this girl's routine, and she is acting out about how she feels about it.

Holy hell on wheels.

Daddy has been spoiling her, and this staying home business totally ruined our morning routine.

Now she doesn't want to get up and get dressed. She says over and over again that she needs help. I really think he was dressing her. She's almost five. She can dress herself, and has been for over a year.

We had a fight over hair time.

We fought over her medicine.

We fought over what she could and could not take to daycare today.

She didn't want to wear "those" shoes.

She misses her sister.

She misses her Daddy.

Could I curl her fake Rapunzel hair?

NOW!

That one got her sent to time out. No one tells this Momma, "NOW!"

Mean Girl...

If she weren't so darn cute, she'd be in time out more often.

Now she's figured out that if she acts like a total stinker, if she apologizes it usually makes it all better.

That little, "I'm sorry for being mean, naughty, lying (insert whatever naughtiness here), Momma."

Usually melts me to a big pile of goo.

Back to Normal...

2011-04-27T10:00:00.000-05:00

Just like that, everything goes back to normal today.

Maybe a new normal, but normal none the less.

Today I got to fight with Mea over doing her hair and getting dressed for daycare. The good news is that she did not have school today. We were able to get her in a full day and a half of antibiotics so she could go back to daycare. Of course my kid would be the one to get sick the day before her Dad starts a new job, and after she has been home nearly every day with him for the last five weeks, but that is the way stuff works.

My husband was so excited this morning. My mom called to wish him luck, and that meant so much to him. He popped in when I was in the shower to tell me that "our mom" called him. I know that staying home has been wearing him down a bit. Before he left for work, he gave Mea a big kiss and hug, and told her that he will miss spending time with her. It was so sweet.

This afternoon, I will have a blog post featured on BlogHer, in the Family Topic for Mother's Day. I am soooo excited about this. I'll send a tweet out with the link when I see it's up, it's supposed to be up about 1pm Pacific time.

Shucks....Am I Really Missing Vacation?

2011-04-26T10:43:00.000-05:00

My Mom and Dad, sister and her family are all headed down to Florida for vacation on Saturday. My brother-in-law has a conference for work, and they planned the trip around his conference. They asked us to go with them in January, and I declined. I'm glad now that I did, with this work situation with my husband, although I was pretty torn on what I wanted to do at the time.

I love my sister and brother-in-law and nieces. I love my parents.

I can't vacation with all of them.

They kind of have a tendency to make me mental, and a week stuck in Florida may have gotten ugly, mouse ears and all.

My Mom gets pouty. My sister gets pissy. I just get irritated by them both when this happens. Somehow, I always end up being the adult in charge of Mea and my niece, and since they are insane together, it makes me want to kill the other adults that allow this to happen.

So this decision may have been for the best.

So I'm also going to share a TMI about going on vacation somewhere warm with my mom. I warned you, don't say I didn't. If you don't want to know, stop reading NOW...

My sister and I went on a cruise with my Mom and our Aunt, about six months before our Aunt died. It was our our "Girls Only" trip. My cousins wife came as well. So just the five of us, fancy suite. It was fun.

My Mom has been on multiple cruises, I repeat, multiple. With us, with my Dad, with their friends. Several times now.

Someone needs to break down and tell her.

She needs to hide, or maintain, the big grey bush.

It's downright embarrassing.

We come from some hairy ancestors. My sister and I have discussed it. We don't really know what we are, a mishmash of everything at this point really, but somewhere along the line, we are part Sasquatch. Really.

We've tried just being a little gentle. Let's go swimsuit shopping, get a skirty one, or shorty ones this time....Let's go get waxed....Let's buy you a pair of hedge clippers?

None of it has worked. Besides that her swimming suit is thread bare in the back, and she really does need a new one, I don't think she would actually buy a skirt one or a shorts one. She thinks that they are "matronly." This is where I roll my eyes, slide off, and snicker to myself....

Neither of us have decided how we can just say, "Ewww, you are gross. Take care of that shit."

There's just no polite way of telling your Mom that she needs to go get her bush waxed.

Easter Sickness...

2011-04-25T15:49:00.000-05:00

When holidays roll around our neck of the woods, it's only appropriate for someone to be sick. This time it was Mea's turn.

She woke up a little warm.

She raided her Easter Basket.

Then she did NOT eat any candy, she only pulled her new toys out and played with them.

I knew she felt crummy.

Pretty Easter Girl.

Even though she looked really, really cute.

She did the brunch thing, and picked at her food.

She did the whole Easter Egg Hunt thing, and found her eggs.

She was crazy and ran amok with her cousins.

When they left, she asked me if she could go to bed.

Sickness, what have you done with my child?!

She is feeling a bit better today, but we took advantage of the fact that Daddy is still home for two more days, and let her stay home from school. Hopefully, a little rest puts her right.

I am a Momma...

2011-04-23T09:21:00.001-05:00

I am a Momma, by various different ways.

My oldest daughter, Mackenzie, was born a month and twenty-four days after my 18th birthday. I think that Mack in many ways saved my life. I could have been headed down a pretty rough path. I always had a pretty good head on my shoulders, but having her made me grow up. I had someone who depended on me. I needed to work, I needed to go to school, I needed to provide. In addition to those things, I loved her so much. More then anything, ever.

We had some pretty lean times, but we were close, and I worked extremely hard to be not just a good mom to her, but an exceptional one to her. I knew that most people would expect for me to fail as a mom, when I was so young having her, and I needed to prove them wrong. She is almost nineteen. She is a freshman in college. Mack is one of my best friends. She is funny, intelligent, very down to earth, and just an exceptional young woman. I couldn't be more proud to be her Momma.

When I was twenty-five, I met my husband. We got married when I was 26, and he was 41. He had three daughters. So I am a step-momma too. This was the most difficult parenting a Momma could do. The girls were 14, 15, and 16 when we met. There is less of an age difference between me and any of the girls then there is between their father and I. I think under the best of circumstances it's hard to be a step parent, but stepping in and being a step-mom to 3 teenage girls is very hard. There were rough times, the first five years especially. When they started having their own babies, and I became the Nana to those babies, it started getting better. When they realized that I was just a woman too, it became better. They just had to grow up a bit to appreciate me more. We all love each other now. So much. I think that because it took so much work to get us all to this place of friendship, of understanding, of loving each other, it makes our relationship all the better, and that much more special.

I was a Foster Momma. After my husband and I had been married for about five years, we decided to take the leap and adopt. We knew other people who had adopted from foster care, and since due to my husband's age and a 24 year old vasectomy we decided that this was the best option for us. We applied, went through the classes and were approved. Then we waited. And waited. We had many calls for foster placements, we were kind of waiting for an adoption placement, then a worker told us, if we took a foster placement, that may help us. We took our first foster placement on October 31, 2006.

It was an experience. The boy we had was sweet, but has many issues, he was six. I can't go into the particulars, but this also made me a better, wiser, more patient Momma. All the way around. It made me think outside of the box. It made me look at things from different perspectives. It was one of the best, and one of the hardest six months of my life. He went home on April 20, 2007.

In June of 2007, we got the call. An adoption placement of a twelve month old baby girl. The judge wanted the worker to find a family for the girl before the TPR hearing, on July 20, 2007. They lived about two hours away, we went and visited our daughter the weekend after we received the call. We met her foster mother, who she had been placed with since she was ten days old. Our daughter was offered to her foster mother first, but she felt that she deserved a younger, two parent family. Her husband had passed away the previous year, and she was older. We love her. She and her children are a part of our family. We stay connected on Facebook, so she can see pictures of our daughter, and she and her oldest daughter come and visit, when they are in town.

A few weeks after we visited them, they drove down to come visit us. We showed Mea her room, her toys, introduced her to our dog, and cats, as much as a thirteen month old can, she seemed at home. The TPR hearing occurred, and our daughter came home two days later, July 22, 2007. Much crying, hugs and kisses from her foster mom, and from me. On February 5, 2008, she officially became our daughter.

I love my Mea. She is almost five. She is vivacious. She is a character, and silly, and smart, and I could go on and on and on. Although there is a serious age difference between Mea and the rest of her sisters, they all dote on her, and love her so much. Mea has two nieces who are older then she is, and they are best of friends.

It is much different parenting this time around. It's nice to have a Dad for one thing. It's nice to have a bit more stability, and it's also nice to have the experience I had from having Mack, and from the big girls, and from parenting D for those six months.

I love being Momma to these five girls. I loved the six months of being Momma to D.

I just love being a Mom, anyway I can.

And Today I Got the Cheese....

2011-04-22T14:48:00.000-05:00

I got the cheese today to go with my whine from yesterday....

My husband was offered a job today! Same sort of position that he held before, same pay, sounds like better benefits, just a different company!

Sometimes you just need to whine a little bit.

Thank you all for bearing with me and my whine. Someday, maybe I'll meet you in real life, and give you some real wine to make up for it.

Right now, I just can't begin to tell you the amount of relief I feel.

He should start on Wednesday, so Mea will get to go back to daycare, we will have insurance again, and all will be right with the world.

Again, thanks so much you guys. Really. From the bottom of my heart.

It's Possible I Could Soon Be Having a Moment....

2011-04-21T15:13:00.000-05:00

The breakdown in my niceness is coming.

I'm still trying, I am.

I have actually done much better, in all honesty. I decided being a huge bitch because I was stressed out was not helping anyone. So I have been trying extremely hard to be nice, to everyone. Especially, my husband.

None of this crap is his fault. If I'm mean it's not helping. Got to keep that mantra going in my head.

If I'm mean it's not helpful.

If I'm mean it's not helpful.

If I'm mean it's not helpful.

I'm not trying to be mean to him. I'm mostly just frustrated by this entire situation. It sucks, and it's stupid. It totally pisses me off to no end.

His unemployment was denied. He had to send in a letter of appeal. So we are officially down to my income.

We got the information for Cobra from his work, which I had thought about us doing because my health benefits scare me for our family, they only offer HDHP, and my husbands recent health issues, with the high blood pressure and stroke, don't help those scares. It was over $1200 a month to cover the family on Cobra. Insane. There is no way, especially since the unemployment was denied.

He's had some good leads, but things are just moving so slowly.

Mea really wants to go back to daycare. She misses her friends. That makes me sad. She misses her routine.

I just want everything to go back to normal, and soon. I don't just want it to go back to normal.

I need it to.

Bébé's Kids

2011-04-20T10:51:00.000-05:00

So you know we are talking about some bad kids at our house if we are talking about the kids being Bébé's Kids. Sometimes if Mea is being really naughty, we ask her if she's being a Bébé's Kid. She has no idea what we are talking about, but my husband and I think it's pretty funny. Do you remember it? It's an old movie, 1992, and an even older stand up comedy routine that Robin Harris used to do. It's kind of an awful movie, but the whole Bébé's Kids theme for bad kids has always stuck with me.

Anyway, without being to obvious as to how I know this, these are some warning signs that you, or your kid, could be a Bébé's Kid.

If they are crawling all over someones desk for example, or touching everything on that person's desk, your kid might be a Bébé's Kid.

If your child runs out of the building where you are trying to conduct business, they might be a Bébé's Kid.

If you don't run out of the office of the building where your child escaped from to go after your child, you might be a Bébé's Kid.

If your child starts touching things that they shouldn't be touching, they might be a Bébé's Kid. Like collectible items from Spain, and Egypt, and you don't even know where those countries are located on a map, you might also be a Bébé's Kid.

If they are licking the window separating two offices, they may be a Bébé's Kid.

If I have to give you a stern warning prior to leaving you alone in my office for five minutes, that if when I return anything is broken or missing we will have a problem, you most definitely are a Bébé's Kid, and your poor children are too.

For real. The things I go through.

I Will Hunt You Down...

2011-04-19T12:24:00.000-05:00

Don't even think about it.

This is my favorite pen, and if you try to take it, I'll come after you.

I know it writes nice, that's why I bought it, and why I have kept track of it. Why I have searched everywhere for refills for it. Why when there aren't refills to be found, I buy pens take the insides out to put in my pen.

I have had others, and still do. A green one, a silver one, and another dark pink one, but this one is my favorite. Back off. The green one did get stolen, and is gone forever. Jerks.

I've chased people into the parking lot, literally to their cars.

I've searched under grimy restaurant tables.

I've searched under disgusting movie theater seats.

Don't touch it.

Pen thieves, beware.

I'll come after you, and I mean it.

Very scratched up, favorite pink pen. Blue ink.

Don't even think about putting it in your purse. Don't try to say, "This is mine." We both know it's not. I can tell you that I have had this pen for at least six years. I'm serious. It's not expensive. It probably is replaceable, but it's mine, and I don't want to replace it. If you like it run yourself down to Office Max and shell out the $7.95 for your own, and then you can try keeping track of it when everyone tries to steal it.

This one is mine. Hands off.

About Beibered Out...

2011-04-18T12:51:00.000-05:00

I thought for awhile that Mea's Beiber Fever was waning.

I thought wrong.

Yesterday, she had me record a song/dance tribute to him, that was pretty hilarious. I especially love the part where Ludacris raps, she gets the first couple words out, then she kind of sounds like Charlie Brown's mom.

(I'd love to share, but somehow my phone ate the video. I did manage to get the video on Facebook before my phone freaked out, if any of you would care to see it there...)

On the way to the grocery store yesterday afternoon she was talking and texting with the Beib's. It was downright obnoxious. "Text me when we get to the store. We'll be there in five minutes."

She talked to him like he was coming over to our house. "Well don't forget to bring over my cookies. The ones with the hearts, and sprinkles. You know, the frosting kind. My Mom won't let me have them."

"We can watch a movie in my room when you come over, you can pick which movie. How about Narnia, it's kind of scary..."

I mean really, she is still four. Almost five. Where is she picking some of this stuff up from? I also think it's hilarious that I become "Mom" when she's talking to her make believe celebrity boyfriend.

We are in trouble with a capital T.

No joke.

Now I Like Pink...

2011-04-15T14:15:00.000-05:00

I still like a good black outfit. I would imagine that the majority of my wardrobe is still black, but it is not out of the doom and gloom requirement of my youth, and more of the my ass is fat, and black is supposedly slimming, necessity of my middle age.

I don't really know if I have mentioned this before or not, but when I was young I was a bit of an outcast. I was actually insanely shy, musically inclined, and that didn't bode well with the cool kids. It was fine, I found others like me (unfortunately, none really near my home), I beat to my own little drum, and life went on. I had many, many interesting experiences due to these artsy, cool kids I found, and they helped make me who I am now.

The other day, I stumbled upon my "Quote Book" which was a little tiny memo notebook. I kept in my purse at all times. If someone said something particularly witty, or something we thought was hilarious, it went into the Quote Book. It was like my late 80's, early 90's version of Facebook. I can't believe I still have it. I have scads of pictures from these days too. The funny thing with looking at pictures from back then is no one has gone through all of them and deleted the crappy ones. They are all still there. You can't delete film, it lives on forever. Now, I'm sure there could have been much more pictures from those days had we been digital, but you just never know.

Then I started thinking about this whole vampire craze, and realized that we had it in my group as well. The difference? It wasn't Team Edward and Team Jacob. It was "Team" Lastat or Louis. Or if you were really into it you could have loved David Bowie's vampire in The Hunger. This is one of my favorite movies of all time, but then again, I am also a huge Bowie freak. At least if you were reading Anne Rice, you were getting some history, and not a bunch of fluff, but I did read all of those others too. I always read books that Mack really liked...she was in junior high when these really started coming out.

I just can't tell you how thankful I am that piercings and all of that came after my days of being a crazy teenager. The kids that I hung around with would have been the pierced up ones. For sure, some of them still ended up being them. I can only imagine what would have happened if I would have come home with some kind of hole in my face, or anywhere other then an ear, and lets not even get started on gages or any of that crap. Good grief.

Anyway, I'm glad I did all the stuff I did. I wouldn't change much of it. I did wear a lot of black, I'm pretty sure that's all my wardrobe consisted of, I'm just glad I can appreciate some color now too.

Special Fingers...

2011-04-14T13:23:00.000-05:00

Mea has two special fingers, both her little fingers.

I think that everyone has some weird body anomaly, on some part of them. I know that I do. I have a notch out of my right ear lobe. Not from an earring pull, which most people would assume, but just a natural little dip in my ear lobe that I was born with.

Apparently, my grandfather had it too. My Nana was super excited when I was born and I had it.

My grandfather didn't wear earrings, or have to worry about his hair, or length of earrings looking weird.

I'm sure no one notices, but I do.

Mea has already noticed her special fingers. Which is what we are currently calling them, who knows what she'll call them later. She has a little knot on each pinkie finger, just to the outside of the lower knuckle. It kind of looks like a wart, but it's not.

She was born with an extra digit just off of each pinkie finger. The medical term is Polydactyly. It's actually more common then you would think. It's much more likely in African and African Americans. Especially Mea's type. When she was born, they were useless digits. The doctor's at her birth placed a tourniquet of some sort on each of them, and they basically shrivelled up and fell off. (Truthfully, glad in some ways, I wasn't the one to have to watch that happen.) What is left is her little knot like bumps.

One special finger.

I guess what brings this up, is that someone noticed them. A kid. I don't know what they were doing. Holding hands, playing a game, or just doing stuff that kids do. I've talked to her doctor about them. There's really nothing to do to them, they don't hurt, it's solely cosmetic. Later, we could probably have a plastic surgeon look at them to see about having them removed further, or trimmed down, but they would want to wait until she quits growing.

So we will be living with her special fingers for some time. I know that I need to decide at some point when to tell her what they actually are. I just can't decide when that is. If she tells the wrong kid at school about this, she could forever be labelled "that six fingered girl." I don't want that. Kids can be so mean under the best of circumstances.

Do I explain why they are special? Or do I just let them be special for a while longer?

Silent Treatment...

2011-04-13T14:07:00.000-05:00

I figure giving my husband the silent treatment may be better then killing him in the night when he sleeps.

He is officially making me crazy.

Our marriage has worked for the last ten years because, (although I bitch about it from time to time) from late March to October I become a sports widow. I get him out of the house and out from under foot for a good period of time. I am able to have a lot of "me" time, and it makes us appreciate each other more.

This unemployment thing is currently blowing all of that.

His games are all on the weekends right now, so Monday through Friday he has been home, taking up space, wanting rewards for occasionally doing the stuff I normally do while working fifty hours a week. It is annoying the hell out of me. Rather then fight about it, I just need to shut up, because I'm going to hurt his feelings.

I tried talking to him about giving me some time to myself, and I don't think he heard a word I said, or he got offended, I'm not quite sure which.

I've talked to my Mom about it, and she gets it. She's taking Mea to the movies Saturday afternoon, so I can have a couple hours to myself while he's out doing softball games. I may treat myself to a pedicure or something, even though the last thing I should be doing is blowing money on myself. Anyway.

I need to. I know. I will.

Little Diva.

I can't afford to be the crazy mom when I've got my little Diva around.

Good grief. Let's hope he finds a job now. ASAP. Yesterday. This is making me more mental then him, I think.

Apple Pie Debate.

2011-04-12T14:00:00.000-05:00

So, because I have a multitude of other things I could be am really pissy about and don't want to bore any of you to death with my ramblings about my husbands job search, crappy Cobra, other stupid stuff, I'm going to talk about PIE.

We have has a long standing debate in my home about....Apple Pie. It shouldn't cause ~~fights~~ friendly debates between spouses, it should just be eaten. It is yummy. It is good hot or cold. It is good with ice cream on it. It is fine without ice cream on it. It's pie, for crying out loud.

Okay, so for the sake of my winning my argument, I will explain. I will win. It is a no brainer, because, although my husband persists in this conquest, his logic is seriously flawed. I have tried every recipe I could find to make him happy. This seriously, is probably at least a hundred pies at this point. I'm not even kidding. I have made my own crust, I have used store bought. I have used every kind and combination of apple I could find within our area of the Midwest.

None of them stand up to his Grandmother's Apple Pie.

Every apple pie will be compared to his Grandmother's forever.

None will ever compare.

No one knows the recipe.

No one knows what type of apples she used. The only thing I have ever been told is that she sliced the apples very, very, very, thin. I have done that. I have the paring knife scares to prove it.

The thing that I have tried to explain time and again, is that I can do my best, but I can't do what I don't know. It used to be that I was trying to recreate Grandmother's Apple Pie.

No longer.

Now, I am just making my Apple Pie.

Kelly's Apple Pie

Looks pretty tasty, doesn't it?

Listening Walk

2011-04-11T09:15:00.000-05:00

This weekend, Mea and I were home alone all weekend. The husband was officiating softball games all day on Saturday and Sunday, so we were left to our own devices. It was unusually warm. Mid eighties both days, super nice. Saturday we ran to Target, and then came home and played outside for most of the afternoon, riding her bike, playing in the backyard, sidewalk chalking, etc.

Yesterday, we went to lunch, went to the grocery store, and really started to do the same thing. Instead of just staying at the house all afternoon, I decided we should take a walk up to the Dairy Queen Mack used to work at and have an ice cream cone. On the way home, we started to do a "Listening Walk" which is something they do at school occasionally.

Every Tuesday at school is PACT time, which I'm assuming is Parent and Children Teacher Time, or something along that line, but the parents can come for the first ten minutes of class and do an activity with the kids, and then we get instructions to do it at home. A few weeks ago when I took Mea to PACT time, we all went on a quick listening walk, it was quick because it started to rain. They sent the instructions home, and I thought this would be a fun thing to do sometime.

I get home and the instructions we got were in Spanish. Not so helpful. I'm only bilingual in sarcasm, and Pig Latin, and even those are questionable.

So I figured I could wing it. We walked up, ate our ice cream, and on the way home we were going to "listen."

Which would be fine, except really all we could hear on our street was cars, dogs barking, birds, and the occasional wind chime. So, I changed it up. We did an Observation Walk. I told Mea to point out things to me that she thought were interesting.

We saw...

Dogs.
An Iowa Hawkeyes sign on someones house.
An United States Flag.
An Iowa Flag.
Flowers.
Windchimes, which we heard too.
Birds.
Weeds. (Someone apparently already needed to cut their grass.)
Rocks.
Pretty trees.

Then at one of the last houses we passed, there was so many beautiful bird feeders. We stopped for about ten minutes just looking at them all. All very intricately painted, all different shaped, and so very pretty.

That is going to be our next weekend project, I think. Mea really wants a bird house in our front tree now, "A pretty one, like that house. Not an ugly one."

A Message from my Mea...

2011-04-08T11:08:00.000-05:00

I have an old voice mail on my office phone, from my Mea.

I play it and save it almost daily.

She was about two and a half when she left me the message.

She says, "Hi Mamma! Hi Mamma! Hi Mamma! I big now! I big! I big!"

Mea, age 2

I just love it. I hope I can keep it on there forever. Her little baby voice, is so sweet. She was so proud to be on the phone.

I just love that girl.

Pity Party, Table for One.

2011-04-07T13:16:00.000-05:00

I'm having a bad week.

I've been trying to still be light hearted, and fun, but today it's just not working.

A dear client died. A co-worker died.

There was another client who's story touched me so profoundly, I can't quit thinking of him, his family, and what they are going through right now. I actually cried when he was in my office with me. I've never done that before.

Mack is still making me mental, but about other stuff now. I think maybe sometimes I babied her too much.

This may seem petty, but I'm missing my "alone" time.

I would go home everyday at lunch time, and have that hour to myself. No kids, no husband, just me at home alone. I could watch whatever I wanted on TV, I could read my Kindle uninterrupted. I could just do whatever. Since the "Day of Doom," I have been coming home, doing Mea's hair for school, scarfing down a sandwich, and then taking her to school. That's it, it about sums up my whole lunch hour. I probably shouldn't be bitching about it, but I'm tired, I'm stressed out, and I need this time to myself to make me function as me. My husband thinks I'm being crazy.

It'll be two weeks tomorrow. I'm going to go nuts. Maybe he's right.

Missing!

2011-04-06T10:19:00.000-05:00

Someone I know had a mishap while doing laundry last night.

She live in an apartment, with her young daughter.

She was trying to hurry up and finish laundry last night, and ran down and grabbed her things before going to bed. She was too tired to fold it, so left it until this morning. When she went to fold her laundry this morning, she noticed a few items were missing.

All of her panties.

That was it.

Nothing else was missing, baby t-shirts, socks, everything else was there.

Just her underwear were missing.

Plain white cotton ones.

She doesn't know if they were stolen before or after they were washed and dried.

She's not doing laundry at home anymore.

I told her she should post a sign in the laundry room.

"Beware of Panty Theif!"

You just can't make stuff like this up.

Hold the Dijon Please...

2011-04-05T09:16:00.000-05:00

So yesterday, Mea got to go to her beloved babysitters house, before and after school. Dad had an interview in the afternoon, and had to take the van to get something or another fixed on it in the morning. She was missing the kids like no other, so off to daycare she went.

When I came to pick her up, the kids were building a metropolis in Lego's, and one of the other moms and I were visiting with Lolo. A kid that needed drop in care, who was a friend of the "other mom" was going to be coming on Thursday. Her son, who is two, pipes up and says, "Dijon is coming?!"

Lolo, just kind of shook her head, and said, "Jeez, another crazy name that I'm going to have to learn?"

It wasn't the case, his name is Dillon. Dijon is toddler speak for Dillon.

I know there are multitudes of celebrities that name their kids weird names, but the difference is more then likely those kids are going to grow up with one thing these kids are not. Money, lots and lots of money. That money can pay for therapy, lots and lots of therapy. So if you are Apple, Blanket, Diva Thin Muffin, Moon Unit, or Moxie Crimefighter, you can have therapy, have a weird name, and you'll also likely inherit a bunch of money when your crazy parents are dead.

So anyway, then we got on to a conversation about what messed up people do to their kids when naming them. I'm sure over the years Lolo, has heard some doozies.

Mea has a friend who goes to a different pre-school, where there is a boy named Hot Rod. First name Hot, middle name Rod, last name whatever it is. Not a joke. His likely career? Mechanic? Drag racer? Stripper? Porn Star? I suppose if he's a good looking kid, it will be beneficial to him when he's in his teens and twenties and trying to get girls..."What's your name?" "Hot, baby...." Good grief.

I have a friend who has a daughter that they named Candy. Their last name is Cane. Stripper pole anyone? Yes, on her birth certificate, Candy Cane.

Then Lolo, called down to her grandson, to remember the name of the boy in his class. His name? Lucky Boy. No kidding here. I can't even think of what this poor kid's career choices are going to be. If I were him, as soon as I turned 18, I'd be headed to the court house with a $100 check to change my name to Mike or John.

At least Candy can get married.

Poised?

2011-04-01T09:33:00.000-06:00

There are some things I just never needed to know.

For instance, I don't ever need to know exactly where my lunch comes from. Because then I could lose said lunch.

I really don't want to ever think about where my dog/or cat's tongues have been before they give me yucky pet kisses.

I didn't need to know that the average person produces half a liter of fart gas per day. That equals 14 farts. Don't ask how I know this, it's just a random fact I know. I think Mea is above average in this category.

Celery has negative calories. It takes more calories to eat it then it actually has in it.

I absolutely did not need to know that Whoopi Goldberg pees her pants.

I don't think I can see her on anything again without giggling and thinking about her peeing.

Think that Poise picked her because she's Whoopee?

Where is the Dog?

2011-03-31T12:40:00.000-06:00

This morning, shortly after I got to work, my husband called in a panic.

He was seriously freaking out.

He couldn't find the dog.

He had looked everywhere for him, and couldn't find him.

My stomach lurched. Considering that my husband was worried, and he "acts" like he doesn't even like our dog, I knew I should be worried.

I love that dog. He's like one of my kids.

He had checked outside, he had checked all over the house, (like that took long) couldn't find the pup anywhere.

I asked my dear husband if he checked in bed with Mea. He swore he had. I made him go check again. Winston likes to cuddle way up under the covers, and snuggle with his girl.

You can just barely see his eyeball, right by her shoulder.

Sure enough, Winston had just buried himself clear up under the covers right up beside his Mea Mea. He loves this girl as much as we do.

Momma, Can You Sew Them?

2011-03-30T07:54:00.000-06:00

I learned not long after the first day of preschool, that preschool is super messy. Not somewhere for "nice" clothes. With the exception of the first day of school, picture day, and I think that is probably it, Mea has worn jeans or leggings and some sort of shirt. Nothing that was super irreplaceable, and nothing expensive. Unless, I wanted her clothing to come home covered in paint, marker, some sort of food, blood, or God knows what else, this was the safest way to go.

Last Friday, she wanted to wear a skirt. It was pretty nice, but not bare legged nice. I slapped her into a pair of tights (that were new) and her skirt, cute cowgirl boots, and sent her on her way.

When I got to the sitter's to pick her up, this is what she looked like.

She had an itch.

(Excuse my crappy cell phone picture.)

The first words out of her mouth, when she saw me..."Momma, can you sew them back together?"

Apparently, Mea did not get the memo about how I can barely sew a button back on. Also, this was a little more then just a needle and thread job, even for an skilled seamstress. Who in the world would sew a pair of $1.99 tights back together anyway.

Silly girl.

Where Mack Drives Me Crazy...

2011-03-29T15:43:00.000-06:00

As if I didn't have enough crap going on right now, Mack is kind of making me mental. I probably could use some advice. Since I had Mack, and didn't have a "typical" college experience, I just sometimes don't quite know what I'm doing with her up there at Yellow State.

Since she has gotten the new roommate, and is on the floor of the dorm with her friends, her social life has definitely improved, and so she's happier. A few months ago, she had asked me about living in an apartment next year with one of her friends. I was fine with this. It probably be a bit cheaper then the dorm, and I figured Mack would like it better.

Then the night she went back home from Spring Break, she sent me a text saying that the roommate fell through, and could she get an efficiency apartment by herself. I did not like the idea of this at all. I told her that I would rather she just get a single and live in the dorm. Almost the same thing, but much safer sounding to me. She was not going for it.

I left it that I had to see it before any decision was made. I don't like the idea of her living all by herself. Then she told me it was $325 a month. That sounds to me like it's probably a death trap. Anything that cheap, can't be too nice. Did I mention it included everything?

Then last week, she called and wanted to know how I felt about her and a group of kids getting an apartment. She'd be the fourth. A couple, another girl, and her. It's the entire lower level of a house, the upper level is split into efficiency apartments. Initially the plan was she'd move in August. Now all of the sudden, she just wants to stay up there for the summer. Which makes me sad. Which will make Mea sad, and I think it's silly.

I would appreciate what any of you could tell me. She's won't be 19 until the end of July. I just think she's a bit young. One more year in the dorm, would make her Momma very happy.

In other news, my husband has four interviews set up so far this week. He's been able to schedule them on my lunch hour, or when Mea is at school, so this is all good. One of these may be a sure thing. The DM, for this retail store had been actively recruiting him for months prior. He was very glad to hear from him, and scheduled the interview for tomorrow. I think it's a very good sign.

Mea is annoyed. She misses her friends at daycare, and doesn't really get this whole staying home thing, even though it's only been two days so far. Hopefully, she can get back to her normal schedule of hanging out with her Lolo and friends very soon.

Happy Haircut Day.

Can you believe how my baby looks like a little girl now? I mean really? Where did that chub on her cheeks and chin go? Her little chunky monkey thighs? Gone. She's all little girl.

Thank You and Mea's List...

2011-03-28T09:38:00.000-06:00

I just love you all so much. Thanks so much for all your sweet comments, and words of encouragement. I am still reeling a bit right now, and I know my husband is as well. I have never seen him like this, ever. Maybe the only other time may have been when his Mother died. He's usually Mr. Bubbly, always happy, and he's just in a funk so bad. I just hope this doesn't take a toll on him or his health, it's his health that is concerning me most right now.

It's so strange sometimes this blogosphere world of ours. I wrote that post, and it was a bit freeing, just getting the words out there, they needed to be said for me somewhere. I didn't even tell my sister about anything about this job situation until yesterday. As far as I know, none of our big girls know anything about this yet either. He doesn't want to worry anyone, and I totally understand that. He's applied for about 15 or 20 jobs already, and since he is a jack of all trades, I'm sure it won't take long. I just pray that it won't.

So yesterday, when we were making our meal plan for the week, we were trying to come up with some good cheap meals to get us through. Now I have to get some breakfast and lunch food for the two of them as well, so I was trying to be creative. (Mea usually ate breakfast and lunch at the sitter's, and he usually did at work. We almost always had cereal or pop tarts on hand, but we needed more choices.) Anyway, we came up with some options to go with what we already had in our pantry, and cut out the frivolous crap like soda and cookies, etc. that we don't need. I saved $30 on our grocery bill. So maybe this whole thing will be good for us. We'll start eating better, and more cost effectively.

While I was making a list, Mea decided that she needed to make one too. At school she is writing more and more words, and it is just astounding to me how many she can just figure out on her own.

Mea's list.

Her favorite word on the list? Meat. The last time we were at the grocery store together, a couple of weeks ago, they were having some kind of "meat sale" and when she saw it, she was freaking out. It's her name plus the letter T. She's got that one down pat. No one had to help her she just got her marker out, and wrote it down. When I asked her what kind of meat, she said, "I don't know, Momma, that's your job."

Again, thank you all so much. Your comments mean so much to me.

Goodbye Carmel Latte...

2011-03-26T10:07:00.000-06:00

Goodbye delicious Carmel Latte.
Goodbye land line telephone.
Goodbye Premium Channels from Direct TV.
Goodbye other things I can't quite think of yet.

My husband lost his job yesterday.

To say that I'm freaking out, may be the understatement of the century.

Some of the things I'm saying goodbye to, I had already planned on saying goodbye to. The other things that I haven't thought of yet, I'm sure are the ones that may be more painful to get rid of. Like Mea's gymnastics, or Mack's school, or I don't even know what.

Let's just say a quick prayer that he's able to find something quickly, with good insurance (mine sucks, and we'd be better off on Cobra) that pays him about the same.

Please don't let him be one of those 10% who can't find anything forever.

My sitter is such a dream. When I told her yesterday, she told me that Mea can come anytime he has an interview and she'll watch her for free. I don't expect her to do that, but it's still super nice of her to offer. Hopefully he can set up interviews while she's in school, so it won't come to that.

I am just sick.

But I'm trying to hope for the best.

Miss Muscles.

2011-03-25T11:36:00.000-06:00

We got Mea's pictures back from her gymnastics team picture shoot yesterday. I know she's athletic looking, but seeing her in the photo next to the other girls it just makes it so much more clear. The girl is ripped.

I had to change her gymnastic night from Thursdays to Mondays due to softball. Her games will be Thursday nights and Saturdays, so something either had to change or go away. The great thing with switching her to Monday nights, is that she will be the only student in the class again. Not only do I think she tends to focus better when it's one on one like that, and she seemed to really learn her skills faster, not to mention that she basically gets private lessons for the same price as the group ones. She was a little bummed to not be in class with her buddies anymore, but I think she'll be okay. Her new teacher's name is Simone. When I told her that, her little face lit up, and she said, "Just like my middle name! I wonder if my teacher Miss Simone is brown, or white or purple?"

I was laughing so hard, I could barely drive my car. How many purple people does Mea know?

Just look at her legs and arms. Holy cow.

We are going in tomorrow to get her a little haircut. Just a little trim. She is just freaking out about it. I have no idea why. It's not like she's never had one before. She needs one really bad, her split ends have split ends. The split endier it gets, the more lint and crap gets stuck in her hair. Hopefully she gets over her little fear of it before we get there, or by the time she's in her hairdresser's chair.

An Experiment...

2011-03-24T08:59:00.000-06:00

I've decided that on my next full day off, which will be Sunday, (boo to my half day on Saturday this week!) I am going to be conducting a small experiment at home.

I am going to have a notebook with me all day. I will be tracking all them times that Mea calls my name. From the time the child wakes up, until she finally goes to bed, I will be tallying up all the Momma's, Mom's, and Mommy's that I hear all day long.

I'm sure you are all aware of this phenomenon. I swear Mea can say Momma 95 times in a minute.

Anyone want to make a wager on how many it will be? I'm guessing somewhere in the thousands.

I'll report back on Monday what my scientific experiment's results are...

Tornadoes and Volcanoes

2011-03-23T12:05:00.000-06:00

Yesterday we had a huge storm hit our area. For the first time in a long time we actually heard the Emergency Weather sirens going off, and took shelter in our basement.

It's a bit unusual for the first tornado scare to be so early in the Spring like this. They usually don't start until later. To say Mea was freaked out by the storm, is a huge understatement. When the sirens started she was a mess. We went to the basement mostly to ease her mind. We gathered up all three cats, and the dog, and hung out in Mack's room until the sirens quit blaring.

She still was worried hours later. Since we live in Tornado Alley, she better get used to it. It's just part of living in Iowa. Truthfully, I really like a good storm. Especially if I know that I am tucked in at home and not going anywhere while it's happening.

A few funny things from my lady during the storm last night.

"Momma, if the tornado gets us, will we go to Munchkinland?"

"Momma, will the tornado suck our roof off?"

"Daddy, get away from that window! My teacher says you can't be by the windows during a tornado!"

Yesterday at school school, the kids made volcanoes and made them erupt with baking soda and peroxide. Mea's lava was yellow. She got to pick her own color. She was very excited at getting to see it erupting. Apparently volcanoes aren't scary since we don't have any in Iowa.

For some reason, she keeps giving me this cheesey no top lip grin.

Also, with a missing tooth, volcano sounds like bolcano, and lava sounds like laba. This precious girl just cracks me up!

Bad Luck.

2011-03-22T09:31:00.000-06:00

I have had some bad luck with cars. Not just a little bit of bad luck, freaky no one gets in car accidents like this bad luck. Lets do a run down.

First car. 1985 Silver Chevy Chevette. It was my Nana's car, I "bought" it from my parents when I got my drivers license. It had almost no miles on it, my grandmother had bought it new, and drove in a 5 mile loop around her house. I was taking Mack to daycare just after she turned a year old, a dog ran out in front of me. I swerved to miss the stupid dog, and hit a parked car. Totalled my car. Went house to house bawling trying to find the owner of the car I hit. When I found him it was a grumpy old Italian guy who called me every Italian curse word in the book. I should have left a note. I am not a putana.
Second car. 19something Light Blue Chevy Spectrum. It was broken more often then it was running, which meant I was driving my Dad's car a lot then. When it was running it was a fine car. I didn't have an actual accident in this car, but it was the victim of many vandals. Kids that played baseball with driver's windows. Kids playing baseball and knocking off driver side mirrors. The car had more windows replaced then any other car I've ever owned.
Third car. 1995 Forest Green Hyundai Accent. I bought this car brand new. It was my first ever new car. It should have stayed in the dealers lot. When it only had 2000 miles on it, a girl made a blind turn in front of me, I hit her but had the right of way, she was "in a hurry," and didn't want to wait for the other car to turn. I did get the claim paid, but had to listen to my parents insurance agent call me a stupid girl, and tell me I shouldn't be allowed to drive. I found my own agent after that. I made a trip to Chicago to go pick up Mack, and the day prior to the trip had an oil change done, where the dealership failed to tighten the oil pan plug. New engine. Something happened that the dealer did again, and I got a new transmission. Sitting at a stop light one day, stopped I had the vehicle in front of me put their car in reverse and back into my car. There was a car behind me, so I had no choice but to let her hit me. I had to fight to get that one paid to believe it or not.
Fourth car. 2000 Red Pontiac Sunfire. Of all the cars, not an accident or issue. Not even a speeding ticket. I should have kept this car.
Fifth and current car. 2006 Black KIA Sorento. The second winter I had this car we had a wicked ice storm. I had to go to work. I live 2.5 miles from my office. I put the car in four wheel drive low, so I knew I couldn't go fast at all. I was doing fine. I was 1/2 a mile from my office, it was actually in view, and a car that had pulled into the parking lot of the mall slid back out of the entrance as I was passing it. Again, I hit her, but with the ice, and everything, if I hadn't hit her it would have been a 10 car pile up. Got my car fixed, it was fine. I didn't make it to work. Six months later, almost to the day of this accident, the day of Mea's 2nd birthday party (which was a huge big deal, since it was her first birthday home) we were getting everything ready. I had run a gazillion errands, I had just run to the store, popped home to drop that stuff off, and was going to head back out to pick up her cake. My husband backed our van into my car, in our own driveway. On the same side of my car that had just been fixed six months prior. When I called the auto body shop they laughed and laughed. I thought it was less then funny. Then anyway. I can almost see the humor in it now. I don't think my husband ever will.

This is it. Since (knock on wood) it's been almost three years since anything has happened to my car, I'm thinking I may almost be in the clear again. I hope so, because I driving the wheels off of this thing.

Teen Mom.

2011-03-21T11:44:00.000-06:00

I am kind of obsessed with watching this show. Along with 16 and Pregnant. I know I'm not the only one who is. I know I'm not the only thirty-something that is. I've thought so much about this, and about writing this post, because on so many levels I have been in most of those girl's shoes in one way or another.

When I got pregnant with Mack, I was seventeen. It was right after school started my senior year of high school. I was in denial for a long time about the fact that I even was or could be pregnant. When I told her biological father, he said he'd "help" but that his new girlfriend was also pregnant. Due only two months behind me. I just pretty much at that point decided to do everything on my own. I also still didn't know for sure what I was doing. I thought about adoption. A lot. Towards my sixth month, I just decided I couldn't do it.

The good thing is that my parents were supportive of me and my decision, whatever decision I made. They said they would do what ever I needed them to do. When I decided to parent, we built a nursery off of my bedroom, we planned a baby shower, and that was it. I'm sure they were freaking out, but they were always supportive of me.

Most of my friends went by the wayside. My best friend at that point was pissed. The plan had been that when I graduated and turned 18, we were getting an apartment together. She knew that with Mack coming it wasn't going to happen. She was too crazy. No where with her would have been a great environment for raising a kid. The night Mack was born at 11:50 PM, she showed up at 2 AM after having been at the bar and was so drunk she could barely stand up. I was not very happy. I was out of it, I was really tired, I had lost a ton of blood, and here she is slurring all over me and my new baby. Not a good way to come say "Hi." Not to mention the fact that she never came back up there.

After Mack was born I kind of became a bit of a shut-in. I didn't want to be with any of my friends, I didn't want to go anywhere. I just wanted to stay home with my baby. My mom made me a movie date with a few of my friends and forced me out of the house when Mack was about 4 months old.

Sometimes, when I am watching these shows, it brings just huge floods of emotion rolling at me. I remember what it was like to want to have that "family." I remember what it was like hoping that Mack's dad would just pull his shit together and be a good dad to her. I remember thinking that I would never find anyone to love me again. Most of all, I just remember being so scared. Of everything. I had friends who did help me, I had a male friend (who was just a friend) who took me to a couple of Lamaze classes (even the scary birth video class), picked me up from work several times a week, made me go on a "date" night every now and then so I was getting out of the house towards the end. He asked me to marry him, so that my baby would have a name. Probably one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me.

I worked hard to make things with Mack pretty easy. Let's get this straight though, easy for her, not for me. At one point I worked three jobs, all at the same time. I needed to. You just have to do the things you have to do. Sometimes these "Teen Moms" look like it's all pretty easy. They get paid pretty good money to be on this show ($60-$65k per season) which is 3 times more then I made when I was nineteen with 3 jobs, and it really kind of glamorizes the whole thing. I can only imagine what a show like this would have been like, nineteen years ago. Can you even imagine? It wouldn't have been on long. If you think about it the first "Real World" hit MTV in 1992, the same year Mack was born. It was so much tamer then any of the "Real World's" on MTV now.

It would have been thrown off TV for promoting teen pregnancy. In many ways, I wonder if it is promoting teen pregnancy. I can watch it, and see what those girls are going through. Can the average teenager watch these shows and actually see how hard it is? See that it is a bad idea? See that they are giving up their youth? See what needs to be given up in order to put your baby in diapers, and make sure he/she has formula to drink? They don't show these girls standing in line at the WIC office, or scrapping pennies out from underneath the seats of their cars or from under couch cushions to buy diapers, or going to the local health department to get immunizations since insurance may or may not cover their children.

Then again, maybe since they are making all this money they don't need to do any of this? Most likely they wouldn't qualify for anything because of the money. So why did the one girl need to borrow money from her baby's dad to go to school? Why did the other girl need to take out a loan at all? My guess would be that when you give a child $60-$65k, and they don't know how to handle it, and it's gone in short time. I hope that there is some loophole in the contract that makes them put it into trust or something, so they can use it when they are old enough to understand how money really works.

Anyway, I could probably ramble on and on about this. I just know that it's hard. I feel for these girls, I do. You could lecture them, and tell them they are stupid for getting pregnant in the first place, but that doesn't fix anything. Teaching them how to make a better situation for themselves and their children is what should be happening, and I hope for their sakes someone is helping them with this lesson.

In the Middle.

2011-03-18T12:01:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, we had a lengthy discussion about middle names. Mea obviously knows what her middle name is, but she wanted to know what everyone else's middle names were, and why we have middle names, and laughed at some, etc.

"I am Mea Symone. Why is it Symone?" We went on to explain to her that she is named after my all time favorite musician. Nina Simone. My love for her music has been around since I was young, not many 11 or 12 year olds that listen to jazz/blues singers, but I was one of them. If you haven't heard anything by her, go listen, I'm telling you, it just hits you. We had thought of naming Mea after my Aunt that passed away or my mother-in-law, but to be honest their names were awful, and they both hated their own names. How can you saddle a small child with a name that even the previous owners didn't even like. Even if it is in memory of?

"What's your middle name Momma?"

"Ann."

"What's Daddy's?"

"Jay." ( I didn't tell Mea this, because she honestly would just get confused, but when my husband was born, there was some kind of screw up in the hospital, and they put Joy as his middle name. Hilarious. When I'm mad at him, I call him this.)

"What's sissy's?"

"Katelyn."

"What are my other sissy's? Why are their names that?"

On and on this went. When she finally came to what I thought was the end. She asked me what Veruca, one of the kittens, middle names was. When I told her the pets had no middle names she was annoyed.

"That's not fair! Even Papa has a middle name, even though it's silly!" (My Dad's middle name is Sheldon.)

So it was decided. All the pets needed a middle name.

They are now...

Veruca Belle

Charlie Rose

Olive Marie

and

Winston Joe

The poor pets, and my silly, silly girl. No one can ever be left out.

St. Patty's Day

2011-03-17T09:21:00.001-06:00

When your name is Kelly Ann McSomething, the idea of having to wear green on St. Patty's day is annoying. I really think I should be able to just wear my name badge all day long, and that should be enough. I have green on my skirt today, and that is it. Mea is wearing a St. Patty's shirt courtesy of Nana, although since she's a McSomething, she should get a pass on wearing green requirement day, too.

Heather at The Spohrs are Multiplying is having a Limerick Contest, and I'm a sucker for a silly poem.

On St. Patty’s Day everyone is keen,
To pinch anyone not wearing green,
With beer in my belly,
I say I am Kelly!
If you pinch me, in your head I will bean!

Many people like to go make a fuss,
Out to the bars with green beer is a must.
Go watch the parade,
With spiked lemonade,
And hope that the police do not bust.

Here I am stuck at work on my computer,
Thinking of those who may be a puker,
Tomorrow when they are hung over,
And there is not any more clover,
I will laugh at the sorry sucker.

So there we go, there are some pretty funny ones, go check them out...

A Memory From My Childhood...

2011-03-16T09:01:00.001-06:00

Yesterday, I was talking on the phone with my Mom, she and my "Aunt" Linda had gone out and had massages, and lunch together to celebrate my Mom's birthday belatedly. They had a great time, and although my Mom had thought the massage would be creepy, she did actually enjoy it. We all kind of have a weird thing about strangers touching us, so she was a bit creeped out about going. She told me that she joked with my Aunt, that the kid that gave her her massage might not ever have sex again. I told her he probably saw lots of old lady backs and shoulders and to get over herself. She's still pretty hot for 61.

Anyway, we started talking a bit about my Aunt Linda and her kids. She's the mother of my friend from the other day, from the Testy Festy. My Mom and Linda have been best friends since Holly and I were in diapers. We used to live on the same street, and that's how they got to know each other. They had babies together. My mom held Linda's hand when she got divorced, and when she got remarried. They've been together through everything.

So when I was about eight or nine, Linda got remarried. The guy she got married to had 3 kids, and he had custody of them. They were just about our ages. Linda also had 3 kids. Holly and I are 2 months apart in age, my sister and her next younger sister are 2 months apart, and then Linda had a third kid, when my parents quit a couple years later. So Holly's family was going to be like a real life Brady Bunch. I was almost sort of jealous. She acquired 2 brothers, and another sister. One brother was a year older then we were, one was a year younger, and then the sister was just a bit older then my sister.

When all of us were together it was crazy. All eight kids, we were loud. It was insane.

Anyway, when I was talking to my Mom yesterday, I remembered this funny thing.

For some reason, right before Linda got married, she and my Mom went to the bridal shop for her last dress fitting, and I had to tag along. I don't know why out of all eight of us kids, I was the only one to be there, but I definitely was the only one there.

I remember quite specifically my mother telling me before we went that I was going to see something, and I couldn't tell anyone what I was about to see. No one. It was a secret. I wasn't to say anything to anyone.

Now, my Mom may have seemed like she was making a big deal, but I had a tendency to run at the mouth a little bit. Like when we went to one of my cousins graduation parties, and she told me that it was probably going to be boring, but I needed to be quiet and good anyway, and I came up to her in front of all of her friends and my Aunt and Uncle and said, "Mommy, I thought you said this was going to be a boring party? It's fun!" My Mom wanted to die.

So we were at the dress shop. Linda tried on her dress. It was very pretty. I never told a soul I was even there with them.

For years, I thought that the reason I wasn't supposed to say anything was because....

I

had

SEEN

Linda

in

her

UNDERWEAR!

Not her wedding dress, her underwear. It took me a few years to realize that I was supposed to not tell anyone about her wedding dress. My Mom didn't say that. She just said I was going to see something and I couldn't say anything to anyone. I was sure it was because I saw Linda in her underwear and bra.

My Mom didn't know this until yesterday. I thought she was going to die from laughing.

A Ball Themed Week...

2011-03-15T14:36:00.000-06:00

So this week it seems so far anyway, is all about balls.

Okay, so today, isn't nearly as silly as yesterday.

Mea is signed up to play softball this spring. It will be her first time, and we are pretty excited. Not in the crazy over zealous live vicariously through my kid way or anything, just excited to be at the softball field, cheering on our favorite little athlete.

Yesterday, Mea and her Dad had their first of many impromptu softball lessons out in the backyard. Since we hadn't had more then a glove and ball before yesterday, it was pretty interesting to see how she did. The girls in her age group are pitched to 3 times, and if they are unable to hit the pitched balls they hit off of a tee. My husband went yesterday morning and bought her a helmet, a tee, balls and a bat. She's all set!

Practicing her outfield stance.

He was really impressed with her ability to follow instructions, and how quickly she caught on. I'm impressed too, just less surprised then he was. She's a natural athlete this one. Seriously.

Knocking one out of the park! (Please don't comment on how Daddy has red gloves on her with pink everything else.)

We have our first team meeting Thursday night right after gymnastics. Mea will get to meet her coaches, and her teammates. So exciting! I just can't wait for actual games in May. It will be fun to be a fan in the stands again.

She Had a Ball...

2011-03-14T09:15:00.001-06:00

I have a childhood friend who recently invited us to her town for a local "festival." Unfortunately (or fortunately), we couldn't attend, since Mack was home from school this weekend. I really didn't think they actually had such events in real life.

It was a "Testicle Festival." They were frying up balls, for charity.

People actually eat them.

In real life.

They do have an open bar, and those proceeds go to charity as well.

Did I mention, that there was karaoke? I wonder who sang, Accept's, Ball's to the Wall, or Do Your Ball's Hang Low?

I think if we would have attended, I'd have gotten tipsy and made fun of the ball eaters.

It's probably a good thing we didn't go. As it is, I poked serious fun at my friend via Facebook for her "small town life" and their choices of festivals. Told her it would be "nuts."

The whole thing seems like something right out of Funny Farm.

On Saturday night, before she left for the "Festival" she posted something on Facebook, about going to get her drink on.

I told her to grab her drink by the balls.

Tooth Fairy

2011-03-11T10:42:00.000-06:00

The Tooth Fairy came to visit last night.

$2 bill, lighty up tooth brush and mouthwash.

Mea lost her tooth biting into a piece of candy at the sitter's yesterday. It was apparently just hanging on by not much after that. One of her buddy's held her hand, and another parent pulled it for Lois, because even after 35+ years of childcare, she is still squeamish about pulling wiggly teeth.

According to Mea, it didn't hurt, but she didn't like the taste of her blood. She told me this about a hundred times. I guess she's not going to grow up to be a vampire. She does like how her space feels, she says. I can tell because she won't keep her tongue out of it.

Mea thinks she is pretty hot stuff. We have called everyone, when we got to gymnastics last night, she showed anyone who would look at her. We went to dinner for our anniversary, and she showed the waitress, the host, and the bartender. Spaces in your teeth are super cool when you are 4.

Her money went right into her bank this morning. She is already planning on that $2 bill for the next tooth.

Cute little toothless girl!

Ten.

2011-03-10T12:59:00.000-06:00

My husband is a pretty sweet guy. I had flowers delivered to my office this morning. I did get my early present, that he couldn't wait to give me that I've been wearing for a month. Both of these are much better then tin, or aluminum which are the traditional ten year anniversary gift. Maybe that's what I should have bought for him, instead of that blue-ray player? A roll of Reynolds wrap. He probably would have liked it, Mr. BBQ himself. Anyway...

Aww!

Ten years ago, this was us. Me at twenty-six, and him at forty-one. Only four daughters, we've seen them through all of their graduations from high school, four babies, and oh, so much more. Then there is our Mea. I would have never in a million years have thought then that I would have her. I am so thrilled to say that we do. We have built a life, a family, most importantly we built ourselves a home, not in the hammer and nails sense, but in the love and understanding sense.

I just love this guy. He is so silly. He can light up a room. Who else is going to not be offended by my sense of humor, or get mad when I post his senior picture on the internet for the entire world to see, and comment on? Who is going to stick up for our daughters when they have broken hearts the way this guy does? Or play with my Mea girl the way that he does?

Last night, we played Pretty Pretty Princess. I think there are some dad's out there that would have just flat out refused. He was a good sport, and wore his jewelry better then I did. I'm a lucky girl, and so are all of my girls.

Pretty Pretty Princess!

I just wish I'd snapped the picture when he was wearing the crown....

Where I Married that Cool Guy...

2011-03-09T10:42:00.000-06:00

Tomorrow will be our tenth wedding anniversary. Kind of hard to believe. It's gone by kind of quickly. I still love him, and he still loves me, so that's the important stuff. We are settled into this whole marriage thing. The kids are all used to it by now, which when we first started, I didn't think would ever happen. Seeing as how with the exception of Mea, none of them are really kids anymore, that probably helps in the "getting used to it" part.

They probably have finally figured out I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, so they better like it or lump it. Right? Or they finally grew up. Most likely the second of the two options.

My husband is that guy. He is friends with everyone. He really has no one that is an enemy. Genuinely a nice guy. He knows everyone. We have been as far as Arizona, and he has run into someone he knew at the airport. A jack of all trades. Literally he has an insane resume. He's worked in accounting, he was a sound engineer for a band that traveled the world, he managed bowling alleys, he has worked retail, he was a night club DJ, and a bouncer, he was a service advisor for a car dealership, umpire for baseball, softball and football, and now manages an auto parts store. I kind of feel like I may have left a few things out, but these are the things I remember.

He likes camping and fishing, and I endure it for him. I like to read, and he understands that sometimes I have to ignore him if I'm sucked into a really good book. I learned how football works, and actually understand and like the game now, so we watch it together. I have been known now to sometimes watch it on my own even. We both like to cook, but realize that we can't cook together, because we drive each other crazy in the kitchen.

So we'll see if we're still married tomorrow. Last night Mea was going through my wallet, and came across this...

Senior picture, 1977. I was 3. I like to remind him.

So I just posted it to Facebook, and tagged him. I hope he doesn't mind. He was a handsome fellow. Cute Afro, huh?

Mea was confused as to who this was. When I told her it was her dad, she cracked up. I told her it wasn't very nice to laugh at her Daddy like that. I don't think that made it much better.

Dress Up Day...

2011-03-07T11:05:00.000-06:00

So I think by now, everyone knows that I used to work in jewelry. Way back when I started, it was against the rules for any women who worked there to wear pants, even pantsuits. Seriously. Even in 1993.

Only dresses, or skirt suits. Nylons at all times. Closed toed shoes.

It was like this until 1998.

I'm not kidding.

It has made me wear skirts and dresses a lot. I wear them more then anyone else I know. Seriously. For the longest time even after we could wear pants, I still didn't. I just couldn't do it. I didn't feel dressed up if I wasn't wearing a dress or a suit dress. Weird, I know.

One day, back before the pants ban was lifted, I was wearing a really pretty spring suit. Long almost ankle length bias cut skirt, cute little pink jacket. We had set the cases, we had done our morning counts. I went to open the gates. This particular store that I worked at, sat on a corner, as most jewelry stores do, I went to open the third and final gate, I flipped the lock, lifted it up a bit, and got ready to push it up.

The handle got caught on the hem of my skirt.

My skirt went up, and up, and up.

I showed the world, my employees, security, the mall, and the elderly mall walkers, all my business. Or my Vickies.

That, my friends, was Dress Up Day.

Amoo!

2011-03-04T09:08:00.000-06:00

Many of people have nicknames. Mea is Mea Mea, Peanut, Meams, and MiMi, depending on who's talking to her at any given time. Most commonly, Mea Mea.

Mack on the other hand, has an unusual nickname.

It started with my friend's son who was about 2 1/2. He could say Mack. It's pretty easy. Spitting out Mackenzie on the other hand, is kind of hard. Then again, he was a total stinker. Or I should say, is a total stinker. Except at 14 now, maybe he's moved on to other words to describe him. So he actually could say Mackenzie, but because he was 2 1/2, and a stinker, he would tease her just like she would tease him.

So she would say, "Say, Mackenzie..."

and he would say, "Mack ...."

Mack + Mea's picture = Nickname

And the nickname stuck like glue.

She is still called this by everyone. I would accidentally let it slip when her friends would be over, and then they would all know. This was totally mortifying when she was in Junior High, and in the first couple of years of High School. I think by the time that Mea came around, and she was calling her the same nickname, she was over it.

Now, she doesn't cringe when she's called her nickname. She tells the story, and grins. Really, what can you do? A nickname like that is just going to be stuck like glue.

Green Googley Eyed Monster...

2011-03-03T13:19:00.000-06:00

Sometimes this little monster sits on my shoulders, and whispers evil little things into my ears.

Makes me think things that aren't very nice, and makes me ponder about other things that kind of make me sad.

I realize that everyone has this little monster in some way, shape or form. I am usually pretty good about shaking him off, or at least making him dangle off of the back of my shirt so that I don't notice him so much. There are other times where even if he's hanging on the back of my shirt, he's choking me to death.

The jealousy monster can do sneak attacks, you see. You can just be minding your own business, living your life, and then all of the sudden it hits you. You want that. For whatever reason, it may be something that is not all that easy to attain.

I follow many adoption blogs, or bloggers who happen to have adopted. I also have ended up following many infertiles, or trying to conceivers, or waiting to adopters, and many others but, well you know what you all are. Anyway, I don't know what I am really. I would assume that I'm still fertile, although I'm kind of reaching that "advance maternal age" category, at almost 37. When my husband and I got together, I just assumed I was done having kids. I had Mack, she was 7. He had the big girls at 14,15 and 16, and he had a vasectomy to go along with them.

It all kind of started when my sister and my best friend were both pregnant at our wedding. Due within days of each other. Two six month pregnant attendants. I got to spend plenty of time with my niece and that kind of tapered things off for me for a while. Then our middle daughter got pregnant with our oldest granddaughter. I was 28, 29 when she was born. They lived with us for a while, when the baby was a newborn. Then our oldest daughter was pregnant. We had the babies a lot. I loved having them. At the same time that I loved having them, I was getting choked by that green goblin.

My mother-in-law passed away in December of 2004. Around the same time I transferred offices, and got to know one of my husband's cousins really well. They had a baby they had adopted through foster care. Baby Trinity is who got us pointed in the foster/adopt process, and my lunches with her mom.

I'm still feeling the pull of having another child. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that Mack is gone, and Mea is home by herself. She misses her so much. I also know how hard it was for Mack with no siblings for so long. We just need to decide what to do. Or see if things have been decided for us.

I am unsure as to if my husband's health scare back in October will effect us being able to adopt again. It very well could. I also don't know how he really feels about it. He's going to be 52. If we had/or adopted a baby, he would be 70 when it graduated from high school. That's if the kid was born right now.

I should probably just be happy with what I have. I have five daughters who love me. I have my Mea at home. I can borrow the small grand kids when I need a baby fix. Maybe one of you can lend me your baby when you are going on vacations or something.

I just need to get this green googley eyed monster off of my back. This I know.

I'm, Shall We Say, Challenged...

2011-03-02T15:44:00.000-06:00

So you know that somewhere in my family genes there is an artsy gene. My Dad has it, my sister has it, Mack obviously got it.

I didn't get it.

I can't draw a straight line to save my life.

I tried to scrapbook, but it's so time consuming, and it took me days on end to think of what to do with my photo's or layouts, it was a very short lived hobby.

For an entire six months between selling jewelry, and coming to work where I do now, I worked for a very short time as a manager of a JoAnn's store. Not crafty. Can't sew. Know nothing about it. I have no idea how I got that job.

The main thing at JoAnn's was fabric and sewing. The quilters, the dressmakers, they were all there all the time. People who needed advice on how to sew stuff, asking me, how to go about it.

Let's back track a little, and let me tell you a story.

When I was a kid in the sixth grade, we all took a twelve week rotations in our "wheel" classes. Foreign Language, Industrial Arts, Art, and Home Economics. In Home Ec, we were to make ourselves a "gym bag." It was a simple drawstring bag. I may have struggled a little bit. Then when I was finally "getting it," I went to work on my bag one day, and my sewing machine wouldn't work. Wouldn't turn on at all.

I discovered it had been unplugged.

Went to plug it in, and electrocuted myself.

There was a short in the plug. I got zapped all the way up my arm. It tingled for days afterward. I didn't finish that stupid "gym bag." Swore to myself I would never sew again.

Then when I worked at JoAnn's I decided I should learn how. I got a sewing machine. It's currently in my basement in it's box. I did finally take a class, a couple of years ago, with one of my friends, but still did all the work in class, and just didn't really do anything for me. I'm pretty sure Mack wore the pajama's I made her in class, once to be nice.

To me, this is what Etsy is for. If I want something cute, and homemade, and my sister or Mack can't do it for me, there are about a million Etsy shops out there that probably can.

I have come across an area lady who has an Etsy shop, who makes little girl dresses that are absolutely adorable. They are so freaking cute. My sister and I have decided to get them for all the younger girls for Easter. The owner of the shop is so nice, she actually brought me a dress for my oldest niece to try on. Go check out these super cute pillowcase dresses. www.etsy.com/shop/pinkdreamsofmine

Pillow Case Dress

The dresses run from size 2T to girls size 8, and the dresses are $20. Too cute, for sure.

M.O.M.*

2011-03-01T09:59:00.000-06:00

Well, my friends, Mea has finally realized the truth about me.

I'm not always fun.

Sometimes, I'm "mean."

As in, "You're MEAN!" Stomps off to her room.

Also, as in, she doesn't always get her own way all the time, so that equals Mamma being a meany.

The good thing is, that since I have been through this whole four and a half year old business before, I know that she is just trying to get her own way. I'm pretty sure that Mack pulled the dreaded, "I HATE you!" before, "You're MEAN!" So at least there's that.

That was yesterday.

Today, we are at home sick, again. This time with added vomiting. Yay! The good thing is that since I have been the one pulling all the sick days, Daddy is coming home at noon so I can go back to work. He can deal with the vomit. The one thing that can always be assured is that if your darling child was a heathen and hated you yesterday, she still loves you and needs you when she is sick.

I have been blessed to not have children that are real pukers, I wouldn't be able to handle it if they threw up often. I know some kids that do a lot. I just can't deal. It is the one thing that makes me weak at the knees. I can handle blood, I can handle nearly everything else, just not the "yucky stuff."

Throwing up has been called "The Yucky Stuff" around anyone in our family since Mack was about 2, and threw up for the first time ever. She had hot dogs for lunch. Woke up from her nap, throwing up. Crying hysterically, she says, "Mamma, I hate hot dogs, they give me the yucky stuff." It took forever to get her to eat a hot dog again. She's still not a huge fan.

*M.O.M. = Mean. Old. Mom.

Baby Pictures

2011-02-28T13:58:00.000-06:00

Last week, Mea's preschool teachers requested a baby picture of all the kids in the class room. They are putting together a "Baby Book" for the class. I did send an email Friday to the teacher asking what they were doing for sure with this, I'm thinking if I could come on Mea's Super Star Baby Day, and help talk about adoption it might be better. Then again, it could get 20 preschoolers going home and asking where babies are made, so who knows. I haven't heard from the teacher yet, and that is irritating.

Mea has been so concerned by this. Completely worried. She just kept saying over and over again that we didn't have any baby pictures of her. It has kind of broken my heart a little. I have some baby pictures, but not a lot, we have looked at them together many times, so she knows they are there. To me, she was still a baby when she came home to us at thirteen months and twelve days old. Her foster mom, made me a small photo album with pictures of her from the day she came to their house, at ten days old, up until her first birthday. So we have a few photos of about every age of her first year.

First day with her foster mom. 10 days old.

About four months old.

Of course, when she came home, it was pictures galore. I couldn't stop taking pictures and video of her. I still can't.
It's these feelings, worries and hurts, that I consume myself with sometimes. I don't ever want Mea to hurt. I don't ever want her to feel that she was unwanted or unloved. She was every minute. By me, by her Dad, by her foster mom and foster sister, by Mack and the other girls. I just hope that is enough to compensate for some of the rest of her story.

First day home with us. 07-22-2007

I don't really know what else to say about it I guess. I don't want to talk about her bio situation, as it's her story. I know the story, and pieces of it hurt me. There is a lot more to Mea then this little bit of her history, but knowing when it's the right time to share pieces of this history with her, and what will hurt the most or least is one of the hardest parts of being her Mamma. I think it could also be some of the best parts, and bring us even closer together, if I do it right.

Let's hope for that outcome in the end.

Sick Girl

2011-02-25T08:46:00.000-06:00

Mea is home sick today, so I am home sick today too. I've known this was coming all week, although she's acted pretty much "normal" she's had a nasty cough for the last several days, but today she woke up with a fever. I'm reluctant to take her to the doctor, because I know there are a million viruses going around, and I'm sure that's what they will say. I think we'll be waiting at least one more day.

Last night we had gymnastics, and it was picture day. The girls were all so cute. The photographer was really good with the little kids, I'm actually looking forward to seeing how they turned out.

While the photographer was working, I took a couple of pictures. The girls were being so cute, giggling and laughing and flirting with this guy, it was hilarious.

Mea and her class, can you believe she is the second to youngest? The girl to the left is the youngest. Yes, to the left. :)

Super cheese herself.

When we were done with gymnastics last night, we went and signed up for softball. Softball starts in May, I am really looking forward to this. The little girls are so cute when they play, and this age is before the parents start getting super competitive with themselves over their kids. There will always be a couple of those parents that have to make more out of five year olds playing softball then what it is, but the kids at this age, are hilarious, and cute in their little uniforms.

I just hope that my husband is able to make some time in his baseball/softball schedule to make it to some of her games. This is the problem, when your husband is an official. Very annoying. He better fix it so he can, or he'll be in trouble!

Sick girl and her dog.

Then this is today. Isn't it amazing how with a little bit of Motrin, and some cough syrup how an hour after being a whiney mess, a kid can be "all better" in just this short of a period of time? Trying to get her to lay down is futile. I just hope the fever goes away on it's own, and she starts kicking that cough. It starts at her toes.

Feel the Reward

2011-02-24T14:42:00.000-06:00

There are some things that just really get my blood boiling. The thought of kids being abused and/or neglected is one of those things that just gets me every time. Yesterday, I watched an episode that I had recorded on Oprah, about the Girl Who Lived in a Dog Cage.

I bawled.

Just thinking about it makes me so incredibly mad.

It also makes me so sad for any child who would be put in any kind of circumstances like this.

I really want to be able to buy a really big house, quit my job, and be able to just foster kids full time.

The girl, Chelsea, on Oprah's show stated that after she and her brother's were rescued, she was in numerous foster homes. She was adopted, and then ended up back in foster care. Now, she did not elaborate on what happened with her adoption, she didn't seem to dwell too much on her time in foster care. No child should be adopted, and then go back into the foster care system, I just don't think it is fair to those children at all. Adopted parents are supposed to be making a commitment to be a Forever Family. Key word, Forever.

There are so many other cases like this, that don't end up getting on Oprah, or on any news for that matter. Kids who are abused and abused and abused some more. Or kids that are never hurt "bad enough" to catch the attention of a mandatory reporter.

A report of child abuse is made every 10 seconds.

Almost 5 children die everyday as a result of child abuse. More then 3 out of 4 of those 5 are under the age of four.

It is estimated that 60-85% of child fatalities due to maltreatment are not recorded as such on the death certificates.

90% of child sexual abuse victims know the perpetrator in some way; 68% are family members.

Child abuse occurs at every socioeconomic level, across ethnic and cultural lines, within all religions, and all levels of education.*

I know that becoming a foster parent is not for everyone. There are sometimes different ways to be a foster parent, sometimes you can do "respite only," which would be occasional weekends or weeks, giving foster families breaks, when they need it, or have an emergency that the kids can't attend, like an out of town funeral, or holiday or something. "Respite only" families here are always in super high demand. I also know that fostering in any way is really hard work. Really hard. Do you know what the best thing about working hard at something is? Feeling the reward. Knowing that what you have done, even in some small way, has paid off. Having a child call you Kelly Mom or just Mom, even if it's just for a short while. If you know that being a foster parent is something that is not for you, then try to find some other way to help with these neglected kids.

Drop old toys off to your local DHS office.

Drop used baby and kids clothes, especially coats, shoes, etc. with them as well. Old suitcases, or bags, so the kids aren't hauling their stuff around in grocery or garbage bags. Call them first and see what they need, but my guess is that they need it all. Our boy had 3 shirts, none of which were his, a pair of pants that were 2 sizes too big, a pair of sneakers, and a winter coat with a broken zipper. No underwear, no socks, no clothes that actually fit him.

Just see what you can do in your community. For the kids, and for the babies.

Smiling face of Mea.

For the babies like my Mea, no one ever hurt her, there was never a chance, but how could you ever look at this face and think that you even ever could?

*Statistics from http://www.childhelp.org/

Loaf

2011-02-22T15:08:00.000-06:00

There are some things that you just can't get over. No matter how you try, you just can't.

I happen to know that my sister and I are both completely traumatized by our Mom serving us Salmon Loaf for dinner. Also Salmon Patties, which was Salmon Loaf in another shape.

Neither of us have ever really gotten over it.

We've never trusted anything that came in "loaf" form again.

I really don't know what went into Salmon Loaf. It did contain canned Salmon, that came in a pink can. I'm sure there probably was actual fish in there, but of what quality whose to know really. I really can't do fish at all period, I think that this scarred me for life from liking fish or any sea food for that matter. I was afraid it would all taste like Salmon Loaf.

I know that we were not super wealthy growing up, and I know that my Mom made us some interesting meals, due to this, we had spaghetti once a week, pbj's and mac & cheese were mainstays for lunch. She was also pretty much constantly on a diet, so we were too by default. I don't know if the Salmon Loaf was a diet food, or something that she made up on the fly. We had a few of these "made up meals" that still kind of turn my stomach to this day. We had a combination of mac 'n cheese, tuna and peas that we used to get sometimes for lunch, there were some other's but right now between remembering the Samon Loaf and the weirdo mac 'n cheese tuna thing, I'm blocking them now.

As a result, I just can't do The Meatloaf. In any of it's various forms. My husband freaking loves the stuff. Begs to make it for meals. He's tried making it Italian style, he's made it Mexican style, regular old way with ketchup on it, I just can't do it.

I let him make it and feed it to our kids, I just make a grilled cheese or eat a bowl of cereal instead.

Play dates Part Two.

2011-02-21T18:46:00.000-06:00

So two posts in one day.

As I mentioned the other day, Mea and my husband got a note from a mom of one of her school friends about the getting together for a play date. I honestly wasn't planning on doing it, but then I had second thoughts, and figured, "Hey, you are off today. If Mea has a friend over, maybe she'll drive you less crazy?"

So this morning, I sent the mom a text. When it had been about an hour, I called and left a message. Of course she called me back when I was in the shower. She did leave me a message, stating that she got off work at 1:30, and that her daughter could come over, and she'd call me when she got off of work.

I took Mea to Toys R Us, we got a couple of small things, we went and got lunch. We came home and ate, and tidied up the house. We waited. My sister had called me at about eleven, shortly after I had gotten the mother's message, and had wanted to know if Mea and I wanted to go to Chuck E Cheese with her and the girls. I said no, because we had this play date.

The girls mother never called me back.

She never sent me a text.

Nothing.

We waited around, for nothing.

The only saving grace, is that I was not born yesterday, and I did not tell Mea anything about it at all.

I think after this experience with this mother, we will not be doing any play dates with this girl.

Some people just don't have any manners.

Pink fake hair from Toys R Us.

How could you deny this face?

Bunnies...

2011-02-21T13:53:00.000-06:00

I rarely if ever remember my dreams. This morning I woke up and immediately remembered what I had been dreaming about. It was too funny not to share.

Mack and her friend were living in their apartment, (that they don't have yet.) They had many pets, since Mack's future roommate is Pre-vet. They had cats, dogs, and bunnies. It started with two bunnies, and then they started multiplying. As bunnies do. Mack and her roommate kept the bunnies in little pastel sweaters, and named them all. When they took over their apartment, and then the apartment building, they started taking them to the dorms where they currently live at Yellow State. There were bunnies with little pastel sweaters all over the dorms, all over campus, coming from everywhere.

That was it my friends. Just my daughter, her future roommate, and a crap load of bunnies.

I have no idea where this crazy bunny filled dream came from, I can only begin to imagine what it means.

I have shared this with Mack, who of course thinks it's the funniest thing ever, and has warned her roommate that they need to start knitting bunny sweaters now in preparation for the bunnies. I'm sure they all think I'm crazy.

At least it was bunnies and not mice or rats or something really gross, right?

Playdate Paranoia

2011-02-18T16:27:00.000-06:00

So I'm a little bit obsessed about knowing what is going on with my kids at all times. With Mack in college this year, it has helped me to lighten up a little, teeny tiny bit, but then again maybe not.

I have always been okay with play dates at our house. This is pretty obvious. It's under my control, I know what's going on. My kid is not with any strangers. Mea really only has two friends she has play dates with. Her cousin S, who hello, that's a given. I can even discipline her if I need to. She has another friend from daycare that she has pretty regular play dates with, and I have known her dad forever, and have gotten to know her mom pretty well over the last few years. I trust them, to take care of her like they would their own kids, and I think that feeling is mutual.

Today, when picking Mea up from school, one of the mom's handed my husband a note with their phone number asking for us to call sometime for a play date. I asked him what she looked like. "She was really short. Oh, and she had really red hair."

Are you kidding me? Was she clean? Did she look like a nice mom or a weirdo? He said, "It was hard to tell, I don't know."

There is another girl at daycare, who's always asking for our number so Mea can come over. I think her mom and dad are both idiots in the small fraction of time that I have ever had anything to do with them. Since my sitter obviously has more time to interact with them then I ever would, I asked her what she thought, and she told me that she wouldn't let Mea go over there. That is scary.

The truth of the matter is you just never know. Sometimes even the kind of gross looking mom's can be fine. Sometimes the really nice looking ones can be super stupid and not pay one bit of attention to the kids.

The best thing to do is to have play dates where you stick around for the play date, or have it at your house the first couple of times. Unless you really know the person. You just never know.

When Mack was in the fourth grade, she was invited to a sleep over party at a hotel. I had met the girls mom, so I said she could go not a problem. When we got to the hotel, it turned out that the girls dad and step-mom were throwing the party. There were three hotel rooms. Two that were joined together, and another that was separate, but next to the other two.

I was really nervous. I was completely freaked out. I had talked to Mack on the way there about how after 10:00 pm, I didn't want her outside of the hotel room. That if the other girls were, she wasn't to be. Before I left her there I told her that if she needed anything to call me.

I nearly went back and picked her up twice. I just felt weird. I didn't like the dad. The step mom was weird. They were jointly celebrating her son's birthday, who was turning 13. So there were boys there.

I got there the next morning, early. Half an hour early. Mackenzie was dressed and packed ready to go sitting on one of the beds. I knew something messed up had happened.

We got to the car, and I asked. Initially Mack wouldn't tell me. Then she told me that the step mom came into the room at midnight, and said it was time to go out and go TPing. Mack said, "I can't go, I promised my Mom I wouldn't leave the hotel." The step mom called her all kinds of names, finally got someone who was barely an adult to stay with her, and they all left to go TPing.

I told her how proud I was of her. That I was sorry that stupid woman even put her in that kind of position, and would go so far as to call her names, etc.

Mack went shopping in the afternoon with my Mom. While they were out Mack wasn't acting like herself. When my Mom asked her what was wrong, she started crying, told her about the TPing thing, and then told her that she was so tired, because she didn't get ANY sleep. One of the boys from the "boy" part of the party slept in their room, and she was uncomfortable with it, so she couldn't sleep. She was afraid to call and wake me up.

We got this down pretty fast. It's always okay to wake your Mom and/or Dad up.

Mom always needs to follow her gut instinct. Always.

The girls mom? Got an earful. She definitely got to meet Mean Kelly that day.

Comedy.

2011-02-17T12:16:00.000-06:00

I sometimes wonder if Mea is going to end up with a career in comedy. The girl is funny. Sometimes she tries to be. Much of the time, it's by accident. Sometimes it's in what she does, but usually it is what she says. The truth is she keeps me on my toes. A smile is never too far behind whatever it is that she is doing.

I often wonder where it is that she has gotten some of the things that she has picked up. Then I remember, four year old's are sponges, they remember EVERYTHING.

Her recent obsession with Justin Beiber is one of the things she's picked up. Where does a four year old get Beiber Fever? School or daycare I guess, but still. It's a virus that won't go away. She has claimed that she is going to marry him. The other night while we were watching the Grammys, she said to me, "Mamma, did you know that Justin Beiber is coming up next?" I said no, because I wasn't paying attention, and was folding my piles and piles of laundry. She says, "Well, you should know, because you are a woman!" Well, duh to me I guess.

That Justin, is his real name, and she knows because they are getting married.

That Justin is hot.

When she announced to me that we have a family bathroom at our house, just like at Target.

While watching Marley and Me, she told me "Marley is so cute, he's a chihuahua, right?"

Because she knows numbers now, she wanted to dial the number on TV for the Mesothelioma ad. Actually, now that I think about it, she wants to call all the infomercial ads. That one for some reason, especially.

In talking one day about her sister going to school, she said, "Mamma, why is Mack at college again?"

I said, "To get educated, Mea."

She replied with, "Why can't she do that in the basement where she belongs?"

Then today, she is jumping on my bed while I'm trying to get dressed for work. "Mamma, look at me, look at me!"

"Mea, quit jumping on the bed, it's not a trampoline."

"Mamma, just look at me!"

"I'm peacing you, Mamma. Peace."

Good grief. The girl was getting in trouble for jumping on the bed, and all I could do was laugh at her. Really, what can I do?

Hijacking Of Mackenzie...

2011-02-16T15:38:00.000-06:00

My sister and I have a habit of taking a Facebook post of Mackenzie's and hijacking it all over the place.

Now, Mack does ask for it.

She does things like quote our favorite movies, or books, or songs, and then we quote them back to her, and it turns into this huge hijack.

Yesterday afternoon, she posted, "I will be Jareth."

Please tell me you know who Jareth is. Okay, I'll give you a hint, just in case.

Now, tell me you know.

That's better. My sister and I both have a huge thing for David Bowie.

Anyway, my sister started the hijack.

"I ask for so little. Just fear me, love me, do as I say and I will be your slave."

I replied with.

"Everything I've done, I've done for you. I move the stars for no one."

She went with,

"Your eyes can be so cruel, just as I can be so cruel."

and then also, "You remind me of the babe."

I said,

"It's only forever, not long at all..."

and "What babe?"

She said,

"The babe with the power."

Then I said, "I think Mack is in class somewhere shaking her head at us..."

and, "Who do?"

My sister said, "I know. We pretty well hijacked this thread...."

Then Mack showed up and said,

"What power?"

My sister said, you missed..."What power?" "The power of voodoo." (we were overlapping a little here.)

Mack said,

"Who do?"

Then I said, "Ah, there she is..." (Because Mack showed up...)

My sister said....:)

That was about it. Her friends probably think we are really weird. Actually, I know they think we are cool. The cool mom and the cool aunt, because we know stuff. It's weird really.

I've done this to her now when she's quoted Fight Club (the book, not the movie, if you haven't read the actual book, do it, there is no comparison) and my sister and I have done this to her on various other movies and song quotes. It's pretty fun.

It makes me miss my Mack.

Pinkie Promise

2011-02-15T13:20:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, when I picked Mea up from the sitter, she was not wearing her own pants. Or her own socks. Or her own shoes. Most normal parents, would guess that their child had probably had an accident. I knew right away, what had happened to her clothes.

The adorable jeans with the pink and red hearts embroidered on the legs, and her pink and brown cowgirl boots that I had picked out especially for her first Valentines Party. They were soaking wet in her backpack.

She was wearing someone elses pants. Someone elses socks, and someone elses shoes. All of this stuff was boy's stuff. My daughter, could care less. If the kids have snow gear with them, they are supposed to be "allowed" to play in the snow. Snow pants, mittens, and snow boots. I don't know who was "watching" them yesterday on the playground, but they were not doing a very good job.

Mea likes to play in the snow. A lot. She'd do it all day if I would let her. She's been very sad about these forty-five degree days, and all the snow melting.

Then again, Mea likes to play in anything that she can get wet in.

Snow.

Puddles.

Sink.

Tub.

Shower.

Water fountain.

She's not picky. If she can get wet, and make a mess, she'll do it.

Most girls would totally get freaked out by being sent home wearing "boy" clothes. Mea asked me if she could keep the pants, they were comfortable.

This morning, repeatedly, we discussed that she was not to play in the snow or the puddles during recess. I made her pinkie promise me. Usually, she won't break that, but we'll see.

The temptation might just be too great.

Happy Balentines Day

2011-02-14T15:20:00.000-06:00

We have been working on Mea's Balentines for what seems like the last three weeks. Twenty-two for preschool. Twelve for daycare. Six for gymnastics, if all the girls are actually there, and because I am a glutton for punishment, fourteen to Mack and her friends up at Yellow State.

All signed with a little "Mea."

All coached by this Mamma.

I'm pooped. I am also full of Laffy Taffy and Pixie Stix.

I'm so very glad that her name is not Mackenzie. I remember those days, and it took ten times longer.

I got a big box of hand picked fancy pants chocolates from my husband and Mea. She picked out several of her favorites, so I could share with her. I'm pretty sure my husband did the same thing.

We bought my husband a new Not Yellow State shirt, and a Pillow Pet, in matching black and gold colors. That's right, I bought my husband a Pillow Pet. He wanted one. Because it's a comfortable pillow. I'm not even making this up. Last night, he and Mea were all layed out on the floor with their insect pillow pets, watching Despicable Me. Too funny. I wish I'd have taken a picture. I'll try again some other time.

Hope you all have a wonderful Balentines Day.

My Husband Can't Keep a Surprise.

2011-02-12T10:32:00.000-06:00

So I sent a hint to my husband a few weeks ago.

He always asks me what I want for Christmas, Birthday, Anniversary, and at the time, I usually can't think of anything that I want. Honestly, if I want something, I'm probably going to buy it for myself. I don't like waiting. I had seen a blog post about this family jewelry from AJ's Collection on Baby On Bored a while back, and loved it. After seeing Stephanie's necklace, I looked through the collection at AJ's and sent my husband an email with the link of which necklaces I liked, how I'd like them engraved, etc.

He got the email, and ordered the necklace on the spot.

I didn't realize I was so difficult to shop for. Apparently I am.

Our anniversary is not for a month. My husband cannot hold onto anything he buys for me longer then a day. The necklace came in the mail on Thursday, he gave it to me last night. He's like a little kid at Christmas.

Surprises are not his forte.

Following instructions are. The bar, has all the big girls names on it. One on each side. I love it. So pretty.

He did a good job.

An Invitation to the Hammie Ball...

2011-02-09T10:11:00.000-06:00

First of all, I want to tell you all thank you for your comments yesterday. I'm still mad, almost madder then when I wrote that post, but I definitely needed to get that one out of my head a little bit.

On Friday, Mea was supposed to have her first, "friend sleepover." She has a very good friend from daycare, who we are friends with the parents, we frequently do play dates back and forth at each other's houses, and the girls the weekend before plotted out Allie sleeping over at our house.

We've had plenty of sleepovers. Mea has enough nieces, and cousins that there is often someone coming over and spending the night with us, so really for me it was no big deal. Truthfully, even though Mea is only four, she probably would have been fine sleeping over at Allie's house. She's stayed the night with her Aunt and Uncle, and her grandparents, she knows what it's about as well. The plan was Allie was to be at our house at 6.

At 6:05, she started crying. I tried to distract her. "Let's play some games." Still crying. "Why don't you pick out a movie?" Still crying. "Why don't you guys play dress up?" Still crying. "Do you guys want to make cookies?" Still crying.

I decided to leave them alone. Maybe she'd snap out of it if I just let her be. Fifteen minutes later she was still crying. I text her mom. She calls. Asks to speak with Allie. Allie says she wants to go home. They come pick her up. It is only 6:35.

Mea is ticked off.

After Allie goes home, my kid is the one crying.

I'm ready to go to bed. For real. I'd just about had it with crying kids at that point.

I told Mea I would take her to Target the next day, and she could pick out whatever Littlest Pet Shop thing she wanted. Crying stopped. Thank goodness.

Since Christmas, we have had an explosion of Littlest Pet Shops. They are cute, they are little, they are pretty cheap, and I am a sucker.

Mea will literally play with them for hours. She sets them all up on the floor, and makes up all kinds of little story lines about all the little animals. Her favorites are the dogs, and the hamsters. She's kind of obsessed with the hamsters. As long as her obsession stays with the cute plasticy kind, I'm fine with it. If she decides she needs a real rodent, we have a problem.*

Her consolation prize for Allie flaking out on her, was a LPS, Hamster thing. It has food, a swing, a hamster ball, and hamster tubes, all for her play Hammies.

Hamster ball, as glasses. Multifunctional!

She has had much fun, and the Hammies have been having a ball. (Ha! A ball!)

*When I was 15, I worked in a pet store. My main job was kennel, so I usually took care of the dogs. One time when I was working over winter break, the rodent/snake/turtle lady was out sick, and I had to give new bedding and feed all the rodents. I hate them. Rats, mice, hamsters, whatever. They are all gross. When I was cleaning one of the hamster cages out, one had died, and the rest had buried it under all of the bedding. It was SICK. I vowed from then on, I would NEVER, have a rodent. Eww. The thought of it makes my skin crawl. We will stick with the plastic ones, thank you very much.

6 AM Call.

2011-02-08T10:50:00.000-06:00

On Sunday, we were woken up by a phone call at 6 AM.

One of the worst kinds of calls. Our second to oldest was in the hospital. She was nearly incoherent, what she said to my husband, was completely being coached by someone near her, most likely a nurse. She was in an accident, the car was totalled, she was in the hospital getting checked out.

She was drunk.

She was by herself.

It had been snowing, and she lost control of the car. From the sound of it, she hit a guard rail on one side of the highway, slid over hit the guard rail on the other side, and then bounced off the other side again. Nearly crashing into a bridge, or she did we don't really know. She doesn't remember any of it.

She doesn't even remember getting on the highway. She doesn't know where she was going. She had dropped her friend off at home, blocks from her own home, said she was headed there, and then ended up miles away in this accident.

I am so pissed off.

I told her yesterday that I was. I think that I am the only one of the "parents" that has told her this. I'm glad she is okay. I am. We could very easily be having a funeral, and be trying to figure out what to do with her two girls.

Someone needed to tell her that she was being stupid. I guess it needed to be me.

I told her that I hoped that this was the wake up call she needed. That she goes out too much. That she has two daughters that need her. That she has parents, sisters and brothers that do too. That she could have just as easily killed someone else driving that way, as hurt herself. It wasn't even her car. It was her mother's car.

Why in the hell did her mom let her take her car out, knowing that she was going to be out drinking? This is just as annoying, as anything else about this whole thing to me. Now neither of them have a vehicle, since her car is broken, and her mom's car is totalled with only liability insurance. My husband found a ticket in her purse when he went down to the hospital Sunday morning. She was ticketed for driving without a license. So let's add that to the pile as well.

They had to keep her in the hospital overnight for observation. Yesterday morning she sent me a picture text of the bruises on her neck, after they took the neck brace off of her. All I could say back, was, "You are lucky you aren't dead."

How do you respond to that?

I'm still all over the place with this whole thing. I love her, I'm glad she's alive. I'm really, really fucking pissed about the entire thing. (Please excuse my venting, here.)

Take a cab.

Call your parents.

Stay with your friend you dropped off, who offered for you to stay there.

I just don't even know.

I do know, that unless she's asking us to babysit for work or school, the answer is no for a long while. She needs to keep herself at home.

Wiggly...

2011-02-07T10:36:00.000-06:00

My Mea has been insanely jealous of all the kids in our family, because they are all missing teeth. Both of the older granddaughters have been losing them left and right, at 7 to 8ish years old, are in prime teeth loosing ages. My oldest niece, had had a small run for a while there, now she's getting her big teeth. Then the straw that broke the Mea's back was when her best friend, cousin S, who is a year older, lost her first tooth about a week ago. Mea asked and asked and asked when was she going to lose her teeth.

I kept telling her, everybody is different, but most kids are around 5 or 6, she had a ways to go. Well, I may be wrong. On Saturday, we had a short shopping trip to the Super Target, to pick up my contacts, and Mea's consolation prize for her friend flaking out on her (will explain in a bit) and we grabbed a mini-pizza in the food court for lunch. She took a bite, and looked at me, and I swear her teeth looked weird. I made her come stand by me, and sure enough, that girl has a loose tooth!

See wiggly tooth bottom middle to the left, please ignore dirty pizza face.

So, we called Daddy, Nana, sent texts to all the sisters, and Aunt's and Uncles. This is big news! But FOUR? It is four and a half, but still. Girls teeth do fall out sooner then boys, and four is not out of the ordinary. It's just a little soon. But I'm telling you, this girl is sooooo excited. She is going to be like all the big kids. I hurried up and ordered a Tooth Fairy Pillow, online, hopefully it gets here before the tooth falls out, otherwise I'll have to improvise, but the pillow is really cute and personalized, and Mea will love it. I have also already made sure that I have the appropriate amounts of money at home stashed.

When Mack lost her first tooth, it was lateish at night, we lived alone, and the smallest bill I had was a $5, and I had absolutely no change, none. That started an expensive Tooth Fairy precedent. My sister and brother-in-law, have always done $2, since they are "twooths". I know, kind of funny right? I'm kind of tempted to get some $2 bills, for this purpose. Not that Mea would really get it, but I'd think it was funny. The Tooth Fairy also always leaves some kind of tooth related cleaning item. New tooth brush, tooth paste, mouth wash, floss, etc. I think it's really cute idea as well.

So, this is the other thing that is weird, but I am incredibly sad about Mea losing her teeth. I love her teeth. I know that this is a weird thing to love about your kid, but she honestly has the cutest little teeth ever. This picture doesn't do them justice. It's mostly the top teeth that are cute. She has little vampire teeth, and I love them. When they all fall out, I'll cry.

I have some other things that happened this weekend, that I need to post about, but I need to wrap my head around what happened a bit more before I write it out. It's not good at all, it has to do with my second to oldest step-daughter, and has her Dad and I completely worried and freaked out. To be continued...

Three Years

2011-02-05T10:00:00.001-06:00

Three years ago today, our family of six went to court, and when we left we were a family of seven. Mea officially became our legal daughter forever, her name was legally changed. Lots of tears flowed. Parents, sisters, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins all cried.

It was an incredible day. Forever in my heart. The six month wait felt like forever, she came home to us on July 22, 2007, and after the six month wait is was February 5, 2008. She was toddling all over the court room. She let the judge hold her, the judge gave her her favorite bear, Barry. All the other kids got a smaller stuffed animal to remember the day by. The judge let all the younger kids, pound the gavel, to make Mea's adoption ordered, this was so cute. They all took turns, Mack, Mea, and both of their cousins. Because her favorite color is pink, we all wore pink. Daddy even wore a pink tie.

The outfit she wore that day is in her special box. This may seem silly, but she only wore it for that day. I wanted it to be that special. To me it was the beginning of everything. The weight lifted from my shoulders, and I hadn't even realized there had been one there. Until the judge puts her stamp on that paper, you have just that tiny little glimmer of doubt. Once it was stamped, it all went away.

Mea, the judge and the gavel.

What an adorable girl. I love her so much, I just can't even begin to imagine my life without her in it. She makes me complete, as a Mamma.

Mea Symone your Mamma, Daddy and sisters all love you so much.

The Jokster

2011-02-04T19:19:00.000-06:00

So after posting about my mother-in-law the other day, it got me thinking about her. She died in December of 2004, so after six years, thinking of different times with her or thinking about how much she would have loved my baby girl is just kind of nice.

She would have loved Mea. She would have gotten the biggest kick out of her personality, of her "Meaism's" and she really loved the little kids so much. The other day, my husband and I were talking about her, and Mea said, "I loved Grandma, she was my favorite Grandma."

I said, "Mea, you never met Grandma, how could she be your favorite? What about Nana?"

She just looked at me like I was so stupid. "Well, Nana is my favorite Nana, Mamma. Grandma, is my favorite, Grandma."

See even something like this my MIL would have cracked up about.

So, my husband and I didn't date for very long before we moved in together. It obviously worked, since here we are eleven years later, but we met in January and moved in together in May. I think around Memorial Day this year that we had moved we had both of our families over for a cookout. It would have been right around my birthday, and my Dad's birthday, and it was the big "our parents meet each other" day.

I was running around trying to get things together for our meal. My husband was outside grilling. I was sending Mack who was 7, around taking drink orders. We had beer, wine, tea, soda, water and lemonade. I remember exactly.

Mack comes back to the kitchen, and tells me that Nana wants whatever she wanted, Papa wanted a beer, and Grandma wanted a beer. So I get my Mom's drink, I get the two bottles of beer out of the fridge, and by that time Mack had disappeared. I take the drinks out to everyone. Hand my Mom her drink, give my Dad his beer, hand my MIL the beer, and she just flips.

"What's this? I didn't ask for a beer! I don't drink."

I am just sitting there, thinking what the world did Mackenzie do?! Have I ever mentioned that my MIL was a minister? A pranking one. There are no rules that say ministers can't drink, but I thought for sure I was going to hell for this move.

My MIL totally asked Mack for a beer. She also sent her on some errand upstairs so that I would be the drink delivery girl, so she could pull my leg.

To say that it took a while for our relationship to nurture, is probably an understatement.

Sharing is Caring.

2011-02-04T16:13:00.000-06:00

I'll share my Mac N Cheese recipe with you guys, but don't blame me if you eat a bunch, it's not exactly low calorie. So I warned you, don't blame me if your pants don't fit.

1 16 oz package of elbow macaroni
2 eggs
1 (12 oz) can of evaporated milk
1/4 cup butter melted
1 tablespoon of prepared mustard
1 teaspoon of salt
1 teaspoon of pepper
8 oz of process cheese (Velveeta)
2 cups shredded mild cheddar cheese, divided
2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided
1/2 cup of sour cream

Cook macaroni to package directions. In a large bowl whisk eggs, butter, mustard, salt, pepper, sour cream, and half of the can of evaporated milk, until well combined. In a small sauce pot melt Velveeta with remaining portion of evaporated milk. Once melted slowly whisk into egg/milk mixture to temper it, you don't want scrambled eggs. Add 1 1/2 cup of each kind of shredded cheeses to the milk/cheese mixture. Add macaroni, and mix well.

Butter a 3 quart casserole dish. Put all the macaroni cheesy mixture in, top with remaining cheeses.

Bake uncovered at 350 degrees, for 25-30 minutes or until cheese is melted and edges are bubbly.

Enjoy. Super yummy.

I Put My Foot In It.

2011-02-03T12:59:00.001-06:00

There are a few meals, and dishes, that I can do really well. I am typically more of a baker then a cooker, but the things I cook, and enjoy cooking, I make really well.

My lasagna is tasty, homemade pizza is really good (I make my own crust and sauce.) Mack's favorite meal of garlicky pork chops with rice, and a side of "special rice" is also really good. The one thing that everyone in my family and extended family totally agrees on is my homemade Mac and Cheese.

Every time we have the big girls over for dinner this is always requested. Every family potluck type dinner it is as well. When my mother-in-law was still alive, she would call me and ask me to make it especially for her. I would make her an entire 3qt recipe, divide it into smaller foil containers, so that she could heat it up and eat it for dinners.

The first time I made the Mac and Cheese for my husband's family I was really nervous. I don't know if you know this, but black people like Macaroni and Cheese done a certain way. I was really nervous that mine wouldn't stand up to the test. We had all of my husband's family to our house for Christmas Eve dinner, one year shortly after we had been married (including his evil niece), we had ham, sweet potato casserole, a bunch of other stuff including (gak), greens, and my Macaroni and Cheese.

We all loaded up the plates, my husband's Mom said grace, everyone except me, dug in. I just sat back a little to wait and see what happened.

My mother-in-law said something right before she took a bite of it about how daring it was of me to serve Macaroni and Cheese to all these black folks. She was teasing, but still.

She took a bite. She took another bite.

With her mouth still kind of full, she sits back and says, "Kelly, you sure did put your foot in this Mac N Cheese!"

I was speechless.

Mostly, because I didn't know what the hell she was talking about.

Was it good?

Was it stinky like a foot?

She never did tell me, I had to ask my husband after everyone went home.

The good news is that putting your foot in something, is a high compliment of your cooking.

I guess I should have realized this since that 3 quarts of Macaroni and Cheese was gone in minutes.

Conversations with Mea...

2011-02-02T16:39:00.000-06:00

Sometimes this girl is so silly, you guys.

She is just so serious in what she is saying, even though what she is saying is wrong or weird, but it's so freaking cute.

Since I have been sick, she has been "helping" take care of me. She and Daddy both have been. Since I'm ~~stupid~~ stubborn, I have gone to work all week, even though I probably should have been in bed. I just refuse to use my time for myself, especially this early in the year, and I am feeling much better today.

Yesterday, after getting me a blanket, and a glass of water, she came and laid down with me. Snuggled up really close, she got right in my face and says, "Mommy, are you breathing? Oh, good. You are."

This morning before we started getting ready for work and school we were snuggling in bed, and she said, "Mamma! I can hear your heart beeping. Can you hear mine?"

This morning on the way to the sitter's, she said, "When are we going to buy a new house and get rid of our old one?" I told her, probably not anytime soon, what's wrong with our house? "Well it is a little ridiculous." Oh, really? Miss Mea started backtracking her words after I told her what ridiculous meant.

So silly.

Ode to Bronchitis

2011-02-01T10:03:00.001-06:00

You started as a cold,
That my child brought home.
Share, share you said, and you got your wish,
Don't forget, Kelly, that Preschooler Kiss.

Always wash your hands,
and plenty of Germex too.
The cold landed in my head,
and then in the Kleenex too.
Dayquil, Nyquil, Delsym, and Cough Drops too.
Nothing works, back to the doctor for you.

The girl is fine,
not a booger in sight.
The mom is hacking, sneezing,
and can't sleep at night.

I think you get the point. Mea is fine, she had a sniffle last week. I have bronchitis. I hate being sick, and I hate even more the idea of using sick time for myself, just in case I need to use it later in the year for Mea.

Where I Try to Think Warm...

2011-01-31T14:50:00.000-06:00

We are about to get 10+ inches of snow dumped on us, in the next day and a half. I really don't mind the snow too much before Christmas, but after the holidays it can just get warm and be nice as far as I am concerned.

In order to psych myself out, I usually start doing a couple of things this time of year. I start to tan, which makes me marginally happier, and if anything it's warm in there. I also start listening to "summer music."

Mea and I have been jamming out to Bob Marley's Greatest Hits in the car. Her favorite? Buffalo Solider. We have played track 16 until there is a groove in the disk, I'm not kidding, the CD kind of skips after that track. She loves it. It is so cute. Her little, "Woy yoy yoy, yoy-yoy yoy, yoy-yoy yoy's" are so cute coming from the back seat.

It warms all that stupid Iowa cold just a little bit, my little rasta, singing in the back booster seat.

Monster Stompers*

2011-01-28T15:17:00.000-06:00

My darling four year old, has giant feet.

Not just a little bit big. Her feet are flipping huge.

Her feet could be used as scuba gear.

We give Mea's old shoes to her cousin who is a year older then she is.

The average shoe size for a four year old is supposed to be a size 9 to a size 10.

Mea's shoes on average are somewhere between an 11 1/2 and get this, I just bought her a pair of sneakers in a size 13.

Monster Stompers.

That is a big freaking shoe, girls.

If her shoe size is relative to how tall she is going to be, she's going to be like Mack and be a six footer for sure.

*My darling Dad, has always called our shoes Monster Stompers. I am talking about my kid having big feet here, but in reality, I have big feet, my sister has big feet, and my mom has the biggest feet.

I'd forgotten all about Monster Stompers until the other night, when he kindly reminded me. Nothing like having bigger feet then your Dad, when you are in the seventh grade.

Nurturing the Child Artist...

2011-01-27T13:43:00.000-06:00

The other day Jen posted this, and it got me thinking. When Mack was little, I could tell from an early age that she was profoundly more gifted in art then I ever would be. (Not that that would take a lot, I don't think I can draw a straight line even with a ruler.) I bought her coloring books when she was about two or so, and truthfully after that, it was just tablets of paper. Mackenzie hated coloring books, she truthfully didn't care for crayons all that much either, and preferred colored pencils. She didn't like being constricted to what "they" wanted her to color, what color "they" wanted things to be, etc.

My sister and Dad are both pretty good with a pencil. In fact, my sister should be doing something with her talents, but currently isn't, she's that good. When Mack was about 4, my sister started teaching her things. They had scheduled Aunt and Niece time, and that time was dedicated to my sister teaching Mack art stuff. (See how technical I am? "things"...."stuff"...I know, it's scary how arty I am.)

The Christmas that Mack was in Kindergarten, she made me this self portrait, and she and my sister went and had it framed. It still hangs in my bedroom.

Mack, self portrait, 5 years old

Then a few years ago, when Mack was a sophomore, so at 15, she did this self portrait. She really doesn't like it. It was hiding behind our couch, and then I stole it, and it now hangs in my office at work. She had threatened to paint over it.

Mack, self portrait, 15 years old

I guess after reading Jen's post, and thinking about Mack, who is following her dream of becoming a studio artist, (Mamma says little prayer here...please, please let her make enough money to at least feed herself, and put a roof over her head...) I am so proud of her.

To all of my Mamma friends out there, do what you can to support and nurture those kids dreams. You never know what could happen.

A Story.

2011-01-26T11:10:00.000-06:00

Once upon a time there was a young mom and a five year old girl who lived in a teeny, tiny white house. They rented this house from the mom's, best friend's grandma, who everyone calls G. The teeny, tiny white house was on a very busy corner, but had a huge back yard, almost like a park. The stupid next door neighbor never mowed his part of the "park" so it was always filled with creatures.

In the winter the house was toasty warm, and had a furnace the size of a small car in the basement. It was not overly "green." However, it was very warm.

The young mom had lived through yet another Christmas season working retail, and it was finally time to spend some quality time with the five year old girl. Although, it is very difficult to prepare meals for one and a half people, they did cook together occasionally and made some yummy things. They made crafts, and played in the snow.

Winter finally turned into Spring, and things were warming up. The mom and girl would play in the park like back yard, spent time with friends, and all kinds of fun things.

The mom and the girl had a pretty new car, it was only 2 years old. When Winter started to melt and turn into Spring, the car started taking on a very icky odor. The mom searched in vain for the source of the deadly smell, and could not turn up anything. Fifty two vanilla pine tree air fresheners could not cover up the smell of death coming from the car. Leaving the windows open did not cure it. The warmer it became outside, the more intense the smell of death.

The mom thought for sure that the girl had left something under a seat to rot, a sippy cup, a banana, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Or maybe one of the creatures from the stupid next door neighbor's field had crawled into the car somewhere to die.

One day, just having enough of driving the newish car, that smelled like a morgue, the mom decided to completely tear the car apart.

She found, many toys of the girl. Many random melty lipsticks of her own. Some icky sippy cups and empty juice boxes (that were not the source of the stench.) Numerous receipts and fruit snack wrappers.

Then the young mom, opened the trunk of the car. The stench hit her full in the face. This was definitely the place that something had died. At first glance, there was nothing in the trunk of the car. Lifting up the carpet and storage area for the spare tire, she found the culprit. A roast.

A roast that she and the young girl had purchased in January, for a Sunday dinner. When it hadn't made it inside the house, she had called the store, threw a fit about not getting the ten dollar roast she had paid for, and got a refund.

So disgusting. Thank goodness it had been triple bagged, so none of the rotten roast juices had gotten all over the young mom's newish car.

The end.

Moral of the story....Always double or triple check the back of your car for missing grocery items. Especially if you rarely use your trunk for hauling groceries.

Remember When...

2011-01-25T15:19:00.000-06:00

I don't really know what has been making me think of these things, but something has just tripped my mind into remembering them.

Do you remember when Purple Passion came in a 2-Liter bottle? Or the Sun County Wine Coolers? Also in a 2-Liter? It was like drinking soda. Only so not drinking soda. We totally drank way too much of that crap when I was a teenager.

My first car was a 1984 Silver Chevette, that had been my Nana's, it had almost no miles on it, and smelled like 80 million cigarettes had been smoked in it (they probably had.) After I accidentally totalled it, I drove my Dad's Chevette until I got a new car. My Dad's was a red 2 door, 5 speed, diesel. It was small, needed plugged in in the winter, and smelled like a city bus. The radio didn't work in that car, so I had a small boom box that I could play my tapes on. I was cool like that. I think that "boom box" was pink, or turquoise, you know the one, we all had one. (Spell check wanted to turn Chevette into Corvette. I wish....)

My first album was Soft Cell, "Tainted Love." I had a 45 of it, that I played on my little kid, blue and white striped record player, you know the same record player that I played my books on record on, and silly song records on. My next 45 was Prince "Purple Rain." Considering I was about 10, and up until then I had been just listening to whatever my parents listened to, probably oldies or country, I'm pretty proud of myself that I even found these to like. Go ten year old me!

Mack got a fancy record player thingie for Christmas. You can take records and turn them into digital files, etc. Pretty fancy. I was trying to explain to her the concept of "making tapes," when I was young. Do you remember a song coming on the radio, pressing record on a cassette player holding it up to the radio speaker, and then hoping that no one came into your room, knocked, the phone didn't ring, etc. to "ruin" your recording of your song? She seriously thought this was the funniest. thing. ever. She had no clue that this was what you had to do until you got a dual cassette deck, and it was the late eighties before people really had those, and by then Cd's were finally coming out. I totally still have my first CD player Boom Box, it's bigger and heavier then our TV.

There are some things that kids today are totally missing out on that we all did as kids. Or that they are given permission to do instead of it being a sneaky thing.

Such as....

Prank calls are no fun with Caller ID, Last Call Return and Blocked Calling Features.

If you have a cell phone, your parents have probably been smart enough to GPS it. There is no sneaking around.

If you have a cell phone and want to live, you better be answering that phone. When I was a teenager, all my friends had their own apartments, but were so broke no one had a phone. I was constantly calling my Mom from pay phones, or just not calling and making her crazy, and somehow got by with that crap. Mackenzie on the other hand, if she didn't answer the phone that I paid for, it was taken away and she would be grounded for however long I felt like at the time.

TPing the school on homecoming loses something in translation when you are allowed to do it, and then forced to clean it up. What is the fun in that?

I have noticed even in myself that when I see what I consider an "ugly" picture of myself on my digital camera, it goes away soooo quickly. Remember, when all pictures were on film? You never knew what you were going to get until you went and picked that film up? Who was wearing what ugly or super unflattering outfit, or making stupid faces, or you accidentally on purpose took a picture of someone in their underwear? Mack and her friends will take pictures of themselves until they get a "perfect" picture of everyone, and delete the rest. Where's the fun in this?

I'm done now, I'm making myself feel old. Also I could sit here all day and do this, and I really should probably do some work.

What fun thing did you do way back when, that your kids will never get to do, and will think is weird?

The Dressing Room.

2011-01-23T16:46:00.000-06:00

I was thinking about my Mack today, and this story from when she was about Mea's age that came to mind.

My friends and I had tickets to go see Rent, we were going to dress up, go to dinner, go to the show, and then go out and get silly somewhere when we were done. I almost never went out on the weekend, since I was a single mom, and I was broke, so I was pretty excited.

I decided that I wanted to buy a new dress, instead of wearing something old. I told Mack that if she was really good while we were shopping for Mamma's dress, we could go to the Disney Store when we were done, and she could pick something out. She was super excited. Promised she'd be good.

So it's Saturday morning, we head out to the mall. I pull several dresses off the racks to try on, and Mack and I head to a dressing room.

I didn't like them. We went back out, I grabbed some more to try on, headed back to our dressing room. The department store we were at, was having a MAJOR sale. It was insanely busy. Every dressing room was full. There were tons of people waiting for a room.

Mack was getting bored, she'd been pretty quiet up until now.

I tried on the other dresses, I get to the last dress, get it on, and at the top of her lungs, Mackenzie says....

"Mamma, just get that one, it doesn't make you look FAT!"

I could have died.

Everyone in the dressing room heard her little "comment."

Everyone in the dressing room was howling with laughter.

I slunk out with my dress that didn't make me look fat, bought it, took my kid to the freaking Disney Store, and got out of the mall as soon as I possibly could.

Kids are something else.

Sleep Over...

2011-01-22T11:14:00.000-06:00

My sister and I have recently made an agreement, that we will start taking turns every other month having a sleep over at one anothers houses taking the kids off of each other's hands. Last Saturday was our turn at hosting my nieces for sleep over night.

My husband had to work, so it was just me and the girls. So we had a super fabulous girl party. Mea planned most of what we did, and they were all so cute. My nieces are P (9), and S (5). Mea and S are crazy together.

Mea wanted to do "fake nails," at our party. So we took a trip to Target to get some girly press on nails. Mea made me get some too. We all had them. They don't last longer then a day, but they all thought they were sooooo cool (I did actually use a little bit of nail glue so they would stay on better, those stickers just can't handle 4 and 5 year olds.) They were just like Nana! My Mom has been getting her nails "done" for the last 20 years, so the girls were super impressed to have their "nails" on. We had to take pictures and send them to everyone so they could see.

Fancy Fingers!

After nails, we ate some pizza, watched a movie, played some games, and then when everyone started whining and fighting a bit, it was time for bed. I piled them into the bunk beds, turned a movie on, and everyone passed out in about five minutes.

The next morning, we ate a bunch of mini donuts, P and I were playing her DS, and Mea and S went to go play in Mea's room. It started with dress up. Then I have no idea what in the heck they were doing. Seriously in about ten minutes time, Mea's room went from completely clean, to this....

There is a floor in there somewhere...

Getting the two of them to clean it up, was one of the more difficult things I think I have ever done. I have never seen so much arguing and whining. Tattling because one was working harder then the other. Really?

At one point I came in, and they were both up on the top bunk playing. Getting along again.

I ask, "Aren't you guys supposed to be picking up in here?"

They look at each other for a moment, and then they both say, at the same time....with sly little grins....

"We forgot...."

Yah, right. Good one, girls.

Seriously? How can these two be so much a like? Even in their orneriness factor?

My sister and I joke that they are each other's "twin," they are little crazy Gemini's...they are exactly 51 weeks apart in age, with Mea being June 10th and S being a June 17th birthday's, their personalities are very similar. We just really need to watch out for when they are both being naughty, or quiet, that's when things like the dog food incident happen.

Last night it was my sister's turn. Hopefully, they haven't destroyed things at her house too much...

Separation Anxiety...

2011-01-21T15:23:00.000-06:00

Mea has been displaying bits of separation anxiety here and there. Sometimes more here. Sometimes more there. Okay, it's like all the freaking time. Really. Everyday when I take her to the sitter's. The days where I do take her to school, she is clinging to my leg and not wanting me to leave. Going to my Mom and Dad's. Pretty much wherever, if she is going and I am leaving, we are going to have a meltdown, somewhere between slightly melty to major volcano molten lava melty.

Part of it is being four and a half. I know this, it's not my first rodeo. I remember Mack clinging to my leg as well. (Mea is a lot stronger then Mack was, by the way.) I know that they do this at different ages and stages. It's normal, it's part of growing up. I swear sometimes that except for the part where I KNOW that she didn't come from there, that child is so attached to me, she'd try to crawl into my uterus for safekeeping.

Studies show that it could be because she was adopted that we are having separation anxiety. I sometimes wish I didn't read so much, because it just gives me too many excuses, and what ifs, to worry about. What if she has that whole"Primal Wound" thing? What if this "separation anxiety" thing is because she's afraid I could leave her, too? I do worry, especially since she was older when she came home that this may have a lasting effect on her somewhere, in her little cute head. I just don't ever want her to feel bad, or unloved, or any other horrible awful thing. It's probably just me worrying for worryings sake, but I still worry about it. (How many times can I put worry in a sentence? Answer? A lot.)

Then again, Babycenter.com, has a whole bunch of stuff about preschoolers and fear. So, I just never know if it could be some deep psychological, adoption related thing, or just regular old four year old stuff. Again, I probably just read too much.

Then again, she's four. She'll probably be over me again in a month, and then I'll be sad because she's not paying any attention to me.

Mea Learns about Mr. King...

2011-01-19T11:43:00.001-06:00

So I realize that we technically celebrated Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday on Monday, but since it was a holiday from school for Mea, her class dedicated yesterday to Mr. King.

Since it was kind of a rare day for the two of us to be home together on a Monday, she and I talked about Mr. King a little bit at home on Monday as well. Probably, more because she was mad that she didn't have school, because anything that gets in the way of school annoys her. Trying to explain that we celebrate MLK Jr.'s birthday on the third Monday of the month instead of the 15th his actual birthday, was a whole other subject. She was really irritated for him that he didn't get cake and balloons on Saturday, his REAL birthday.

Yesterday when I picked her up, she said, "Mamma, did you know that a bad man shot Mr. King?"

"Yes, I did know that. Do you know why?"

"That man was scared of Mr. King. Mr. King was protecting people."

"Yes, he was. He protected many people with his words, and his actions. He was non-violent, do you know what that means?"

"No, punches?"

"That's right baby. No punches."

They made crowns, with pictures of Martin Luther King Jr. on them, and "I have a Dream..." on them.

When my husband got home and she shared her crown with him, and what she had learned that day at school, we continued our conversation a little bit. We explained to her how because of the work of MLK Jr., she can go to school with kids of all colors, and everyone is treated the same. We explained to her how before Civil Rights, it was very uncommon for people like Mamma and Daddy to be married.

My girl she is a sponge. She just takes everything in. "Mamma, I'm sad that bad man shot Mr. King. He was a really nice man. He made us a family."

Yes, he helped that along baby girl. He certainly did.

She has a dream, probably because she was really sleepy when I took this...

We must combine the toughness of the serpent and the softness of the dove, a tough mind and a tender heart.
Martin Luther King, Jr., Strength to Love, 1963.

If a man hasn't discovered something that he will die for, he isn't fit to live.
Martin Luther King, Jr., speech, Detroit, Michigan, June 23, 1963.

In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.
Martin Luther King, Jr.

My Obsession, and Nemesis...

2011-01-18T11:33:00.000-06:00

I am somewhat obsessed with something I really hate.

I have threatened to take all of it, put it in a large pile, and catch it on fire.

At the same time that I hate it, I am ever so particular about how it is done.

I am talking about the laundry.

I realize that it is a necessary evil.

We can't go around being the "smelly kid" just because I hate devoting a day to the washer and dryer each week. Also, due to the fact that my husband doesn't do the laundry "right" I am the one who has to do it.

So, maybe I am a psycho.

Things have to be folded promptly when the dryer is done, so they don't get wrinkled. Clothes need to go on hangers. The majority of our clothes get hung, because I hate creases on them. I have two, 10 foot bars hanging in my basement for clothes hanging. Damn house with no closet space. If they are clothes that can get "shoulder bumps" from the hangers, they get hung inside out, so that doesn't happen.

I have a messy four year old. I have a plethora of stain removers. I have a bucket for pre-treating stuff. Yesterday, Mea got red kool-aid on a white shirt, and ten minutes later got orange marker on a white and pink hoodie. Good grief. Thank you, Clorox 2. I saved them both.

I have tricks for myself, when wearing clothes as well. I know that I can be um, messy. It's in my genes, it cannot be helped. You should see my dad. If there is something that can be spilled, I will probably spill it. Often, when I go home for lunch, if I know that I'm eating something that could be messy, I'll change while I eat. Seriously.

Right now, we are in the middle of winter which is prime slush, and mush on the ground time. If you aren't careful this gets all over the back of your pants just from walking. Did you know that if you have to walk through this crap, if you walk pigeon toed, it won't splash on your pants? So, I look weird walking outside? I don't come into meetings with drops of slushy, snowy mud all over the back of my pants. Try it. Really.

Okay, I think I'm done now.

The one good thing? Mea is starting to become obsessed with helping me do the laundry. If only she were tall enough to reach the controls on the washer it would be all good.

Lunch with an Old Friend...

2011-01-14T16:21:00.000-06:00

Through the powers of Facebook, today I had lunch with an old friend, someone who I have recently reconnected with. She is a couple of years younger then I am, but we were pretty close around the time that I became pregnant with Mackenzie, and after she was born. In fact, after Mack was born, Becky was the first person to get me out of the house. I had turned into a shut in of sorts after Mack was born, I didn't want to go anywhere. As things happen, we kind of drifted apart back then, and haven't seen each other in probably fifteen or so years.

We really have so much in common. Both of us ended up having children really young. She got pregnant in December her freshman year of college, and her daughter Mia is now fifteen. Her daughter's father was nearly non-existent in her life, Mack's was non-existent. She struggled through single motherhood for a while, met her husband at nearly the same time I met mine, and we were married within months of each other. For both of us, our husbands treated our daughters as their own, and ultimately adopted them. She and her husband have another child together, a son who's eight. We have our own Mea.

We talked about raising the older girls on our own. How it was hard. How it was rewarding. How those girls, just babies, more then likely saved us from ourselves. Especially at that point and time in our lives.

We reminisced about our debauchery, because even though we were a bad, we did have fun being bad. We agreed that it has been much harder for our kids to be "bad" because we did know maybe a bit more of what to look for then most.

How it seems that the majority of the people that we were friends with then, never really have grown up. They are still living like there is no tomorrow, and in your mid to late thirties it's time to grow up. Own up to your responsibilities and be a grown up.

We both agreed that even back then, we probably knew that we were going to end up being the responsible adults of the group. Kind of funny how things work out sometimes.

Mea the Builder...

2011-01-13T14:35:00.000-06:00

So Mea has decided that she wants to be a builder when she gets older. She mentioned this to me in passing a week or so ago saying, "Mommy, my friend Alexis is gonna be a princess, but I'm gonna be a builder." I thought it was a funny Mea thing that she was just saying for the day, posted it to Twitter and Facebook, and called it a day.

On Tuesday, she was the Super Star at school. When they are the Super Star, the whole day gets to revolve around them. When it was time for Mea to "Share her Happy News..." this is what she said...

This is now hanging on her bedroom door.

Wasn't it nice of her to think of building for her Mom and Dad? She likes tree houses and dog houses, so that's why she's going to build those. That's what she's building for us, a tree house, because we like trees. She loves our dog, so she needs to build him a house as well.

The teacher misunderstood her a little when she wrote, "I will build in a castle." Mea meant, "I will build myself a castle, to live in."

Because she's still going to be a princess, too. A Builder Princess.

Reply All

2011-01-12T09:39:00.000-06:00

In the last three weeks or so, we have had two instances where some poor person accidentally selected the incorrect contact in their address book, and sent an email erroneously to a huge mass of people. This usually happens a couple of times a year, but for it to have happened twice this close together is a little weird.

The fall out in any large company I'm sure is the same. There were many reply emails, basically saying, "What?" or "Take me off this list." Why these people choose to "reply all" when they do this, is simply beyond me. I choose to ignore it, and delete the emails as they fill up my inbox. Then I got this one. It was just too good not to share. Enjoy....

Hey All,

I usually refrain from adding to the e-mails from some poor person who accidentally sends their HR sensitive e-mails to a large group of employees but then I thought, "Why not take the opportunity to meet some great new employees?"

Introducing…

Angry "Reply to All" Guy: This is one of my favorite employees who not only perpetuates the e-mail spamming but with the added benefit of some seriously negative feelings and angry YELLING!!!!!!

Concerned and Confused: I feel sorry for this employee who seems to honestly think that he/she has misplaced an employee for several years and now wants to figure out how to comply with the request for vacation time. If you are a direct manager for that many individuals you may be eligible for an Admin or it may be time to start looking at splitting your department.

Take me off this list gal: (I name this person gal just to even out the guy/girl name ratio.) This seems to be the most popular response to the mistake e-mail. Instead of just understanding it was an error this person chooses to believe they have been erroneously selected to some kind of secret e-mail list for which they are not qualified or do not wish to be a part. I can't count the number of times I've created mass e-mails with consistent job families completely by accident. Especially with my super great work computer, everything happens so fast. ; )

Choosing not to respond: Bless you friend. These are the people, and I've got to believe this is the majority, who realize that there has been a mistake and simply delete the mistake e-mail. There has to be a special place reserved for you level headed folks in whatever hereafter you choose to believe in.

Now, about me: I like long walk on the beach, French fries and gravy, and rainy days. Thank you all for your entertaining e-mails. I just wanted to let you all know that there is someone who enjoys them. : ) Lets all get ready for a great year.

This just struck me as too funny.

Getting Out of My Comfort Zone...

2011-01-11T15:19:00.000-06:00

So I haven't posted about this.

Yet.

I made a promise to myself that I was going to step out of my comfort zone when it came to "doing" Mea's hair. I don't want to call it a "resolution," because I have never kept one of those. I don't back out on a promise, so that's what it needs to be.

Mea almost always has some kind of puff going on. I'm not saying these are going away completely, because I still love the puff. But for a long time, it's been some kind of puff, in a one, two or sometimes three pony style. Usually one or two. It has been getting kind of old. She's getting older, she can sit still longer, so I need to do something about my skills, or lack of skills.

I have been going to Happy Girl Hair almost daily for ideas. Katie has twin daughters that have very different hair types, and she does amazing hairdo's on both Little R and Little B. She also does instruction videos and product and tool reviews. Both are extremely helpful. She also shares links for products that she likes and or finds and sometimes has give aways...Yay Curly Zebra winter hats, they were so cute, I bought Mea two of them! They have totally stopped our crazy hat hair problems we've had in the past.

I will post pictures soon of some of my experiments, I need to actually use my camera instead of my cell phone, so you can see my handiwork. Most include braids or twists to a puff, but I'm working on it. :)

Mamma, That is NOT Your Name!

2011-01-10T10:18:00.000-06:00

So, Mea and I are home alone for the next several days. Daddy is off in Nashville for a work meeting until Wednesday, and since we took Mack back to school last week, it's just the two of us home alone. We took Dad to the airport yesterday, and Mea was sad to see him go. Hopefully the next few days go by quickly, and she is a happy/good girl for Mamma.

Yesterday, after we went to the airport, we went to the grocery store, and picked up things for the two of us to eat. Grocery shopping for three is kind of difficult for me as it is but, doing it for myself and a small picky girl is nearly impossible. It's nearly pointless to make any "meals" just for myself, so we are having Mea friendly food all week long. Grilled cheese, popcorn chicken, pasta with jar sauce, and a frozen pizza. It was a pretty cheap week at the store, too!

Once a year my husband has this meeting, and every year that he's had it, we've ended up having measurable snow while he's gone. Last year, Mack was home, so the girls stayed home, and I had Mack to help me shovel. Not so much this year. Thanks weatherman, for the soon to be eight inches of snow. Hopefully the snowplow man comes, but I will still have to move around Mack's car, since it's sitting in our driveway. I'm also saying a little prayer that my one nice neighbor does our sidewalk, then hopefully, I won't have to do any stupid shoveling.

This morning, while we were getting ready to go, Mea gives me this one.

I am dressed and ready for work, trying to get her ready for daycare/school. I have my name tag on, because I have accidentally worn all of them home, and forgotten them all there.

"Mamma, why do you have that on?"

"So, customers at work know my name. We all wear them."

"Mamma, that doesn't say your name."

I actually looked at it to make sure. I know, I know... I'm a little dense in the mornings.

"Mea, it does too. See it says, Kelly McLastName."

"Mamma, your name is MOM. M. O. M. Remember, I write it on all your letters for you?"

Apparently, I need to order a new name tag. One with my correct name on it. I wonder what my customers would think?

Animal Exchange.

2011-01-09T19:35:00.000-06:00

Mack kept Mea home last Wednesday, and in the morning on Thursday before I took her back to school, so that they could have some sissy time, before Mack would be gone again. With the unpredictable nature of Iowa winter, I just don't know how often Mack will be back between now and Spring Break, and considering that she needs to buckle down and take this semester seriously, I kind of hope not to see her.

When I realized that I needed to take Mack back on Thursday instead of Saturday, I planned the trip so that I could take her while Mea was at school, and be back in time to pick her up. No daycare for the day, since Mack was keeping her in the morning, always a bonus for me. Mack got Mea up and fixed her pancakes, they played games, and did whatever other sissy stuff they did.

Mea was really having a hard time. She did not want Mack to go at all. She had been whining all week. Even with the special days, she was not being a very happy camper.

When I got home to pick everyone up to take them to their various schools, Mea was a little excited, and shared this with me.

Mea with a new friend.

Mack and Mea exchanged stuffed animals. Mack gave Mea this super cute bear, that is a very soft snugglie guy, and Mea gave Mack one of her favorite stuffed monkeys. They are supposed to sleep with their new friend every night to remind each other of their sister who is far away. So sweet.

My Mack is a great big sister.

It Starts Young...

2011-01-07T14:09:00.000-06:00

Girls, lets face it, can be down right mean. It's been a while since I had witnessed the meanness in four to five year old's, and I had kind of forgotten that they can be just nasty little mean girls.

There is one girl at Mea's daycare, that I really don't care for too much. This girl does things that annoy the crap out of me, and I have busted Mea trying to do some of them. That is annoying. I know not all people raise their kids the same way, I just hate that people let their kids get by with pushing, shoving, lying and in general being snotty. I don't want my kid to be like that. This daycare girl will instigate things between Mea and the other good girl to start fights between them all.

I can tell you one thing for sure. I don't know how my daycare lady does it. There are some kids that you just like. There are some kids that you love. There are some kids that just irritate you to death, and if you had to make your living dealing with kids like that, you should be elected for sainthood. I'd go lock myself in my car with the radio on until their parents came to get them.

Last night we had gymnastics. There is a newish girl, who is a MEAN girl. She is not nice at ALL. Mea is oblivious. For real. She has no idea that this girl is being a nasty little snot at all. How in the world can she not know?

The last time that we had had gymnastics was right before Christmas. The class is for an hour, and when they get done they all get stamps on their feet or hands. Usually feet, I have no idea why. Anyway, this last class was over, the girls all kind of go running to where the stamp stuff is, Mea is there first and sits on the mat. This girl, pushes Mea into the rolling cart, to try to be the one closest so that she can get stamped first. The teacher saw her and made her move.

Last night, we got there about 10 minutes early, and Mea and I were watching the big girls. It was an icebox in there. Mea went over to her cubbie, and got her coat to wear until it was time for her class to start. This girl is sitting right by us and says to her dad, "That's not her coat." "She's stealing it." "That coat's way to big for her, isn't it Dad?" On and on and on. For the entire ten minutes. Just talking about Mea, like she wasn't standing 10 feet away from her. The dad only said "it probably is her coat." If it would have been my kid, I'd have told her to be quiet. That she was being rude.

Then when the kids were done and getting dressed she started rambling to her dad about how much better she was in gymnastics then Mea. Not the other girl. Just better then Mea.

I think she's just threatened by Mea.

She should be threatened by me.

The next time this brat starts running at the mouth, I think I'm going to walk over to her, pinch her, and tell her to shut up. (Just need to make sure Mea doesn't see me.)

We'll see who the "mean" girl is then.

Sad in the Pants...

2011-01-06T10:40:00.000-06:00

My Mea is a bit sad in the pants today. Her big sis is going back to school today, and she had just gotten used to having her home again.

I thought that I would be sad to see Mack go back to school as well. I am a bit sad. There is also a part of me that has gotten used to her being at school. Shocked? I know that I am. I am very surprised at myself. I guess it's just one of those things. Your kids grow up, and you do too. Crazy.

Originally, Mack was going to be going back to school on Saturday. However, this first semester of school did not go as well as it could have, and she needs to go back early so she can talk to her advisor. We are talking about my mostly straight A student being on academic probation. Not good. I am trying to be good and just stay out of it. All I told her was that if it happened this semester, she wouldn't be going back to Yellow State, she would be going to the local community college instead. Basically that I wasn't there to micromanage her, and that she better pull her head out of her ass.

She said that she was depressed most of first semester. She hated Naked Girl, the roommate. She didn't have many friends. She missed her boyfriend. When she made friends, the incident happened. She and the boyfriend broke up right before finals.

I told her to quit making excuses, and that she better study, if she was depressed she needed to tell me about it, or talk to someone about it. That if she had issues with her roommate she needed to go talk to the CA, or the roommate. That when I asked her how her classes were going, that she had better tell me the truth. That if she was struggling in any of the classes that she better go talk to the professor, or the TA and get some help. It's not high school anymore. Mamma can't bail you out.

Let's hope that this semester goes better. I'm sure that it will.

Let's hope that I can get everyone happy in short order, too!

Mea Wins...

2011-01-04T15:51:00.000-06:00

Last night, Mack, Mea and I were all playing one of Mea's new games she got for Christmas. Thinkfun S'match game is super fun. Memory with a twist, you match based on what the spinner tells you, either numbers, color, or category. Fun unless, you have no memory like me. I blame work, old age, and general craziness. Mea really likes her new game, and Mack had fun, too.

After they both beat my pants off, which Mea found extremely funny, Mack with eight matches, Mea with six, and I had my pathetic one single match, we were putting the game away, and Mea sort of flung herself into Mack.

This is the conversation that went down.

Mea "I touched your boobs." Giggles hysterically, like a little hyena.

Mack "No you didn't, I don't have any boobs for you to touch."

Mea "Yes, I did."

Mack "No, you didn't. I don't have any boobs."

Mea "Yes, I did."

Mack "Mea, no, you didn't. I don't have any boobs."

Mea "Yes, I did. You are a woman, right?"

At this point, Mack had realized that whether she has boobage of any size or not, she had lost the argument.

Score one for Mea.

That Time Mack Multitasked...

2011-01-03T06:39:00.000-06:00

"Mom, do you remember that one time when I washed the cereal bowl in the washing machine with my laundry?"

"Um, yes, I do. Remember how I was the one who found, my glass Fiesta bowl, tangled up in the overstuffed washing machine while putting your clothes in the dryer."

"That was hilarious."

This could be an argument for why NOT to let your teenagers to be allowed to do laundry or dishes. Or to NOT be allowed to use major appliances in your home. I kind of forgot about this one.

Who Ate My Lettuce?

2011-01-02T09:51:00.000-06:00

My girl, husband and I took a little trip the the Toys R Us yesterday to get a couple of gifts for the grand kids, since we are having our Christmas with the big girls tonight. Before entering the store, we had a discussion about how we were not buying anything for a certain four year old, but her Dad is a push-over.

I was looking for things for the big girls and the babies, and he was looking for something for her. You know, since she didn't just get a least, her weight, in toys at Christmas just, a week ago. But like I said, a push-over.

Did you know that you can buy, instead of a little kitchen for you small child, a "just like home" Drive-Thru McDonald's? I didn't either. Way to promote healthy eating. Scary.

I finally found what I was getting for all the kids, and I was ready to go. Beyond ready. I went and checked out without my husband and daughter. Let's get this show on the road.

The compromise gift for Mea was a frying pan filled with play food. She loves playing kitchen, and restaurant.

First thing this morning, she gets her tubs out to make me "breakfast." Panic ensues.

"Who ate my lettuce, Momma?"

"I don't think anyone ate it Mea. What do you mean?"

"It's gone, I can't find it, someone must have ate it!"

"Mea, we just got up, look again...it's got to be there."

"I think that Dad ate it, Mom. It's not here." This is serious, she called me Mom....

All is well, the lettuce is found.

It turned out to not be the lettuce that was missing after all, but the tomato instead. Those pesky vegetables are so confusing sometimes. I still found the missing tomato under the couch. Which is where all tomato's should be kept.

I had a very delicious pretend sandwich of lettuce, tomato, french fries and cheese for breakfast.

I know you are all jealous.

Slippin' into the New Year...

2010-12-31T11:08:00.000-06:00

I was prepared to give you a new Mea post today, but while I have been sitting for these few hours at work we have been sitting here watching a total cluster all around us.

My office sits on the corner of two highways. There are many smaller towns that are within a few miles of my office. Most businesses are closed today, I think. We are open, unfortunately.

Yesterday, it was 67 degrees outside. It was balmy. Seriously. We have friends on vacation in Florida right now, and it was warmer here. Last night, the weather as can always be expected in Iowa, took a turn for the worse. It was 24 degrees when I got to work this morning.

Then the rain started. Then people started driving, and that's when the slipping and sliding began.

In front of my office, a van's axle or something or other broke. A girl in a Mustang, who didn't know how to drive, was sitting spinning wheels beside him. For an hour. Three miles of traffic backed up behind them. Four men finally pushed the girl and her Mustang out of the way, then ultimately drove her car into the parking lot on the other side of the street for her, when she still couldn't get herself the twenty feet into the parking lot for the gym. Then? A rear-wheel drive pick-up did the same thing. Slipped and slid from the van to the intersection.

Sliding sideways. Picture from my office window.

We have heard nothing but sliding tires, and can smell the burning rubber from the building. Not a good way to be starting off New Year's Eve. It's going to be nothing but trouble. Hopefully, it will snow, so there is some traction out there.

Okay, so enough about the slippery weather. My small one, her big sister and their dad are all safe at home right now. I am jealous. I don't even think I will be getting lunch today. I have half a roll of Ritz crackers, and a few Andes mints. Delicious.

This morning before I left, Mea and Winston were sitting on "their" chair eating a doughnut, and watching cartoons. We have taken the Christmas tree down, and taken back the living room, so it's nice to have the space back again. Mea was sad, and has already started asking when her next Christmas will be.

The dogs head is there somewhere...look at that doughnutty face!

I hope everyone has a Happy and SAFE New Year! See you sometime in 2011!

Fun with Sissy...

2010-12-30T14:44:00.000-06:00

The last two weeks for Mea have been filled with fun days of hanging out with her big sister Mack. We have a little more then a week before I have to take Mack back to Yellow State.

In the last two weeks...

They have been to 2 movies.
They have been shopping multiple times.
They have been "ladies who lunch."
They made cookies.
They played in the snow.
They played make-up.
They danced to music.
Mack took Mea to school, and picked her up. Mack is super famous at Pre-School now.
Hung out with their cousins.
Went to lunch and hung out with their Nana.

Went ice skating, with Mack, Mack's friend and her little sister. This was as much fun as the hot chocolate after.

I know a certain four year old who is going to be pretty sad in the pants again on January 9th. Not to mention, that her Dad leaves for a 3 day business trip that day as well. A certain mom may be sad too.

Are the Strongest...

2010-12-29T16:51:00.000-06:00

From the time Mack was in Kindergarten to the time she was in about fifth grade, she had a couple of very good friends who were half black. One little girl in particular, Shay, Mack played with often, and her mother and I got to be pretty friendly.

I hadn't ever met Shay's dad, he was almost always working, but her mom and I were often paired up at school things and such. They had a baby boy who was soooo adorable as well.

When Mack turned 8 we had a sleepover party at a hotel, so we could go swimming at the pool indoors, watch movies and order pizza's. We rented a suite, and had all of our family come as well. It was a lot of fun. Mack had 8 friends (she was usually allowed to have the number of friends she was turning in age) come to the party, I made my sister and brother-in-law come and swim with my husband and I so that there would be an adult for every 2 kids.

Of course, it ended up that the guys were the big hit, they usually are. They were taking turns tossing the girls across the pool, having them jump off of their knees, etc. My sister and I were boring. Anyway, Mack's friend, Shay, kept going to my husband, for the jumps and throws into the pool. Wouldn't go to my brother-in-law at all. I kept teasing my husband that she had a crush on him. Right towards the end of our swimming time, she went up to him and said, "My Daddy says brown people are the strongest...."

It just melted both of us. So sweet.

The funny thing? Shay's mom is about 6' tall, and really slim. When I finally met her dad? Probably 5'2", and maybe 110 pounds. So tiny!

Kids are just so sweet, and funny.

This has always stuck with me. I just love it.