Time out from the serious

Since I've had several days of being serious(if that's what you are in the mood for, check out some of my posts from this past week), I thought I'd take a break and show you Cub, who always makes me smile- even with milk dripping down his face.

The video is less than 10 seconds long.

Just try to watch him and not smile: Happy Monday!

Cheese!

P.S. My cousin's baby is scheduled for heart surgery at the end of the week. Pray for strength for the little peanut, who will be 3 weeks old when he has his surgery.

Excuse MEme

My mommy said I have to tell you this or MommyBrain is going to make her clean toilets and Mommy said something about having enough toilets to clean.



So, please excuse my mommy from this Monday's MEme.



She had a very busy weekend, yelling at me and my brothers because we were all in a hotel room together or my aunt's tiny living room and she had to keep telling us to be quiet and stopping jumping all over the place.



Even Bear told her "Calm down, Mommy." Daddy laughed so hard at that that he started to cry and snot came out of his nose. I've been trying to laugh and make snot come out of my nose, but it's not working.



Mommy is camped out on the deck, saying something about needing to listen to the ocean to calm her down, so she can't do anything else right now.



I hope she feeds us today, though.

-Monkey




Supahmommy and MommyBrain want to know: what's your excuse?

Explaining death to preschoolers

Sorry if you thought this would be an instructional post that you could refer to should the need arise.

I hate to disappoint, but I don't know what the heck I'm doing.

The boys' great-grandfather, Hubs' grandpa, passed away on Friday. Basically, we spent Thanksgiving waiting for it to happen. So sad.

And so hard to explain to little ones.

Really, it's just Monkey, my 4 year-old, that I have to worry about at this point.

He knows that great-grandpa grew old and very sick and that his body couldn't work any more, so God took him to Heaven so that great-grandpa could live with Him.

I don't want my kids to know that sometimes people die who aren't old or who aren't even sick.
I don't know how to process those tragedies myself, let alone how to explain such things to my babies.

I don't know how to explain the concept of a soul to my boys and why great-grandpa's body is lying in a box when we say that he's in Heaven.

I don't know how to explain that he won't wake up. Especially without striking fear into my kids that they'll go to sleep and not wake up. Bedtime is hard enough, thanks. (That comment was just to make myself laugh through all of this- don't take offense)

Putting his body in the ground- I can't even think about explaining that one.

And so...

I took the coward's way out.

I took the boys home on Saturday, missing the viewing on Sunday and the funeral on Monday.

Allowing me to keep to my simple explanation of death.

I can avoid all Monkey's inevitable questions, for the time-being, anyway.

Hubs and mil agreed to this idea.

I'm not sure it's the best way to handle the situation.

There has be a better way.

But, it's the way we chose.



___________________________
While all of this is going on, I'm back to just my crackberry- so I'll be back to visiting your blogs and commenting after all this passes.

For those of you wondering about my cousin's baby, he is getting stronger and doing well. His heart surgery has been scheduled for next week. He's not out of the woods yet, so continued prayers are welcome.

That's Not Me Anymore

Having 3 boys under the age of 5 at the playground tends to keep me occupied.



I don't really notice other things. Just constantly count my boys to be sure I know where they are. 1...2...where's?...oh!...3, 1...2...3...



So, I might not notice someone calling my name from across the playground.


I'm not intentionally being rude by not answering you, I'm just busy.



But, if you call me by a name that no one has called me in over 8 years, I won't even look in your direction.



Yet, it happened on the playground last week.



"Emmy? I thought that was you!"



Blank stare at the girl heading across the playground towards me, toddler planted on her hip.



"It's Michelle," I stammer.



"No, it's Sarah, don't you remember me?" I blink and let her think that I got her name wrong, not that I'm correcting her.



She probably never knew me as anything other than "Emmy."



And I really don't want to explain to this girl why that isn't me anymore.



She plops down on the bench near where I'm standing and proceeds to tell me all that she has been up to since we last saw each other. I vaguely remember that she was married to someone who worked under my X.



I'm not paying much attention to her, still counting my boys to be sure they are all where they are supposed to be, but I'm starting to get lost in thought.



Lost in memories.

Luckily, Monkey rescues me by racing over to remind me that I promised that he and Bear could throw stones down by the sound.

I smile and excuse myself from Sarah, plunk Cub in his stroller and head off towards the water to let the boys try to skip rocks(aka try to make the biggest splash possible).

Sitting beside the stroller, with the two bigs throwing rocks right beside me(close enough to grab should they decide to go for a swim), I let myself think about Emmy.

And of course, that leads me back to X.

A long, long, long, long time ago, I loved him. Anytime I think of him, I think of a line from a Poe poem: "We loved with a love that was more than love." He's the McSteamy character in my life, though I married McDreamy(whom I love very much, btw...I can't help that I got hit over the head with this memory)

One day, when we had been dating for about 6 months or so, as we were taking a walk, arms wrapped around each other, he squeezed me and said, "One day, you'll be me."

I laughed and asked, "I'll be you?"

"No, you'll be ME. Your initials, after we get married, will be ME. M....E.....Emmy. I think I like that better."

And so I became Emmy.

That's how he would introduce me to people. And it was always with a wink or with a squeeze of my hand or my waist. It was his way of reminding me that he wanted to marry me.

We did get engaged.

Started planning our wedding.

It didn't work out.

Too much time has passed now to really even explain it.

But, it ended.

And I was heartbroken.

One of the last conversations I had with him, he said, "I'll always love you, Em..." and he broke off, knowing that he shouldn't call me Emmy anymore.

I laughed through all my tears and agreed that that was who I was now: "Just M. I'll never be M.E."

Looking at my 3 beautiful little boys, I'm glad that I never did become Emmy.

The most important name change that ever happened for me was when I became their Mommy.

A small update

Hubs' grandpa is still in the hospital. The doctors are surprised that he has made it through the day and are expecting him to pass soon.

The baby is doing somewhat better, though. He was able to be taken off his feeding tube and be fed by his mama. They are hoping to be able to do his surgery soon.


Thanks to everyone who has been praying for them.

I'll be back blogging and visiting your blogs in the next few days.

news

My cousin's baby(see his pic in my previous post) was not able to have his heart surgery today because of a brain bleed. That problem has to be corrected before they can attempt to fix his heart valve. Continued prayers are welcome.

Hubs' grandpa is also in the hospital and he is not expected to make it more than a few days.

Hubs and Monkey headed down to see him while the littles and I will follow in the next day or so.

Hubs took the laptop with him so I'm back to using the blackberry again- which means I can't comment on anything for a few days.

I'll update when I get any news.

Thankful "Four"

My first instict was to be sarcastic and silly when playing along withSupahmommy and MommyBrain in their MEme today.



Because that's just the way my brain works.





But, I decided to deviate from my normal deviant behavior and be serious with this. The four things that I am most thankful for(no rankings here!!)





1. Hubs- I'm thankful for a husband who takes care of me and the kids. Who sometimes works what I call "too hard" to take care of us. Who loves us. Who can always make me laugh. Who still looks at me like I'm the size 2 I was when we met. Who hasn't gone to get his eyes checked to see that that's not the case anymore. Who encourages our dreams and isn't afraid of trying to make them come true.





2. Health- I'm thankful that my kids are healthy. We had a bad scare with Bear this year, but he'll be okay. I've heard of so many babies this year who are not well. Parents are ill and kids are losing their parents before the kids are even old enough to say "I love you" to them. So, I'm extremely thankful that we all have our health.



My cousin's newborn, 10 days old and having heart surgery this afternoon. PRAY for him.


3. My boys- Monkey, Bear, and Cub. I love them to itty bitty pieces. Each with his distinct personality. Monkey, my bright 4-going-on-30 first-born. Bear, my sweet-as-can-be athlete. Cub, my fun-loving baby. Each one of them is truly a blessing.





4. My bff- I love having someone who knows me better than anyone else. Whom I can tell everything to, with no fear of judgement...who often knows what I'm going to say before I say it anyway.





(Good thing this was only asking for four...any more and I'd have to throw in something like I'm thankful for chocolate or maybe I'm thankful for wine.)



*Monkey had to do this same thing in Sunday school yesterday and he said he was thankful for Mommy, Daddy, church, and winter wolves? Winter wolves? Why not your brothers? "Because I LIKE winter wolves!" and then he laughed his silly little head off.


What are you Thankful "Four"?

The Mommy Wars: What Really Matters

You've probably heard all the sides.

Breast vs. Bottle

Stay-at-home mom vs. Working Mom

Cosleep vs. Baby in a crib from the start

Disposable diapers vs. Cloth

Public School vs. Private School vs. Homeschool

Whether you practice attachment parenting or not, allow your child to have binkies and lovies or not. When you potty train. When you start school. Tv or no tv.

And the list goes on and on.

This morning, I'm calling for an end to all the b.s.

Really, I don't care what you choose.

Your child, your family, your decision.

Here's what matters:

Is your child healthy?

My heart is breaking this morning, thinking about some sick little ones.

Like Jaden(click his button over there on the right, if you don't know his story), who is just 2 and fighting like a champ. (Also, see Supah's site to participate in the awesome auction she is putting together to help his family)

Like my cousin's newborn, 7 days old and in the NICU, awaiting the heart surgery that he will have tomorrow afternoon.

THAT is what matters.

Not any of the little choices that we make.

Choices that we think make or break our children's lives and that we tend to turn into wars with "our" side and "their" side and thinking we are the ones in the right.

Who freaking cares?

Is your child healthy?

Go give your babies a squeeze, look into their faces, and see what really matters.

Obnoxious Bragging

I know.



It's obnoxious when people brag about their children.



So, I try not to do it often.



I don't like the eyerolls.



And, I also try not to do it because my kids are so different and one of them struggles with the things that he "should" be able to do at his age.



So, sometimes, we downplay his brother's abilities.



Not to him- we let him know how proud we are of him.



We just don't shout it to the rooftops. I know how much it hurts me to hear what other kids can do when my own is struggling. My heart, it literally hurts.



But, seriously, do you know what Monkey, my 4 year-old, is doing right now?



He's sitting beside me, putting together a 1,000 piece puzzle.



A HARD 1,000 piece puzzle: it's of a bunch of postcards that are lying haphazardedly ontop of each other. It would frustrated the crap out of me.



And he's making amazing progress with it.



He's a smart little thing.



Though, if someone asks him a question that he feels is beneath him, if he senses that he is being treated like he is, in fact, 4, he will purposely give you the wrong answer or tell you that he doesn't know and then smirk.



WHAT am I going to do with this child when he is in school next year?

All Touched Out

Don't get me wrong.

I love my little boys.

And I love their hugs, cuddles, snuggles, and whatever other term you want to use for affection.

But, occasionally...

I get all touched out.

Where I want to scream, "Don't touch me!!!!"

"Leave Mommy alone!"

*I've never actually screamed this, except for in my head.

And have no small child hanging on me, demanding to be held or carried.

That sounds so mean.

But, when Hubs is working, particularly when he is working late for several days in a row and the parenting all falls to me, my preschoolers and baby seem like cling-ons.

And then when Hubs finally gets home, he can FORGET ABOUT any sort of affection.

These moments as a mom who doesn't want to be touched...

They pass.

The guilt doesn't- it seems like one of those things that I shouldn't ever feel, as a mom.

Just bein' honest here.

His Little Heart

I don't often blog twice in one day, but I just found this out and am sitting here in shock and tears, so I'm letting some of the emotion out here.

My cousin's baby's heart.

Something is wrong with it.

He's not quite a week old.

And he's back in the hospital, hooked up to all sorts of wires, monitors, and things I can't even fathom.

They are working to help his heart do its job.

Until he can have heart surgery, sometime within the next week.


Heart surgery, before you are even 2 weeks old.

I can't even begin to imagine how it feels to have your helpless newborn be so ill.

If you pray, say a little prayer for Baby A. Or send out good vibes or wish on a tree or whatever it is that you do, please take a moment and think of this little baby.

A Naked Look

My eyesight is getting worse as I get older.



My contacts are -3.0, if that means anything to you.



What it means to me is that I can see clearly a few feet from me and everything past that is a blur.



Last night, I was getting out of the bath- yes, I actually got to take a nice, leisurely soak!!- and caught a glimpse of my naked self in the mirror.



As I dried off, I looked at myself- no contacts in or glasses on.



What I saw was a petite woman with soft curves, glowing skin, and wavy blonde hair.



I liked what I saw.

I actually thought "I'm a cute little thing."



And then, I put my glasses on.



SIGH.



Those soft curves and glowing skin?



FAT.



Stretch marks.



The "mommy tummy."



Dimples on my thighs and butt.



Wiggly flesh.



Pores that are too big.



Eyebrows that need plucked.



My hair?



A big, frizzy mess, badly in need of having my roots touched up and a haircut.



I sighed again.



And thought about it.



When I look at others, I see them through soft focus.



I see general appearance, but I don't stop to analyze every little detail and pick at every imperfection. It's as if I don't have my contacts in as I look at others.



But, with myself, it's not just that I see with perfect vision, I see as if I am looking at my reflection through a magnifying mirror.



Every little flaw can be seen.



I need to learn to be kinder to myself.



To look more through soft focus, instead of being so harsh.

Wordful Wednesday: When I'm Old

After watching an episode of Phi.neas and Fe.rb, where the characters go into the future, Monkey was very interested in what people will look like when they are older. He thought the mom, in particular, looked really weird as an "old lady."

After discussing that in detail, he turned to me and said, "And this is what you are going to look like when you are old, Mommy."
,

After cringing in horror, of course I grabbed my camera and had him do it again so I could share this lovely image with you.

He's such a smart little thing...but let's hope this is one case where he is WRONG.

Stick 'em Up Tuesday

I missed this last week, when I didn't have a computer to be able to slap virtual post-it notes on people or things.

It's just so much darn fun!

Join in!

Then link up with SupahMommy.

Super Spy MEme...or my cop out version of it

Supahmommy and MommyBrain are wondering about your spy self this week. Click and play along:

Tell us about a time that you tapped into your inner SpY self.

Tell us who you'd like to SPY on for a day and why!

Tell us which Spy Hero you love and why you'd make a good sidekick. What would your spy name be?



Let me just say this....



I do not like nosey people.



I'll totally point the finger at others and accuse them of being nosey and butting in where they don't belong.



But, secretly...



I LOVE being nosey.



So, the idea of being spy and getting to spy on people to find out what they really do or really think....wow, that appeals to nosey me.



But, that said, I have to admit that sometimes I find out things that I do. not. want. to. know.



Whether it's what someone really thinks of me(yes, you, who thought that I had left when really, I was right there behind you, thanks for the "kind" words), or it's some secret about someone that I really wish I didn't know since it's none o' my bidniz but now I can't stop thinking about that any time I see you(TMI sometimes people!!! Somethings should be kept to yourself)....



I think I've learned that I need to limit my nosey-ness, so I'm hesitant to say I'd love to spy on anyone. Even though it's tempting to just pick some random hot people and watch them shower.



So, I think I'll go with being a sidekick to a spy.



I'll be a Bond girl.



Why?



Because all Bond girls are HOT.



So, to make me fit the part, I'd have to get some sort of extreme makeover.



All at Mr. Bond's expense.



Or whoever is responsible for making those girls look hot.



More than the spy part, I'd like to know how to look hot.

I promised myself that I wouldn't do it...

But, I did it.

I joined a "mommies" group down here.

Oh, God, it actually has the word "mommies" in its title.

While I love my boys calling me "mommy" and I cringe when Monkey occasionally calls me "mom" instead, I don't say, "Hi, I'm Shell and I'm a MOMMY!!!"

BLECH.

But, the reality of it is that groups like the one I joined are very good for info.

To be able to ask things like: Where are the good local parks? What's going on in the area this week? Where should I go get my hair did?

And have someone who knows the area be able to tell me.

Though I did live down here before, the friends that I have from here all live at least 45 minutes away, as we didn't move to the exact same area. Plus, they all have older kids...some of their kids practically my age, others with teenagers, and some with no kids.

So, I decided to suck it up and join a local moms' message board.

It's not like I actually have to go to any of the playdates or nights' out if I don't feel like it.

I can just chat on the board.

And, if there is any drama, I can delete my account and run.

Or, stay out of it, read it all, and silently mock.

Slacker Saturday

Instead of attempting to come up with something witty or funny for you today, I'm taking the slacker way out and sharing some funny things that my kids have uttered this week.


Monkey to me, while Cub was crying: "Maybe he needs some baby crack." (note: baby crack is those gerber yogurt melt things)

I tried to look a little more put together this week and had on a green t-shirt dress. Still comfy, but a little better than jeans and a t-shirt. Monkey takes one look at me and says: "Mommy, why are you dressed like a leprechaun?"

After explaining to Bear about recycling as he was helping me carrying empty milk jugs out to our recycle container(my simple explanation was that we take things we don't need any more, put them in the container, and new things are made out of them), Bear said, "I wanna recycle Monkey."

Monkey, to my mil, who is on the plump side: "Grandma, why are you so fat?" OMG, NO, I have never said anything like that about her around him. Actually, I've never said it, ever. I'm not stupid. I might have thought it, but never said it.

Asking Bear what he thinks about living on the beach, "It's the biggest ocean I ever see."

Gotta love what kids come up with!

Anyone have some gems of their own to share?

The Picky Eater

As I was making supper tonight, I realized it.

The picky eater in my family.

It's ME.

The fact that I had to hold my nose and turn my head away as I was dealing with the tuna in the tuna noodle casserole was probably a clue.

BLECH.

Tuna. Ick, I'm shuddering and wrinkling up my nose just thinking about it.

My kids will eat just about anything.

Hubs will absolutely eat anything.

But, me?

Nope, I'm the picky one.

I don't like bland food.

Tuna noodle casserole, chicken and biscuits, actually pretty much any casserole: I think they are all gross.

It's just a bunch of bland mush.

And I'm a good cook. I consider my dishes to be better than others of the same dish that I have tasted elsewhere.

But, I still don't like them.

Give me something spicy and I'll eat it up.

Luckily, my kids will eat the spicy things I make, but sometimes it's just easy, time-efficient and/or cheap to make one of the dishes that I don't particularly care for.

But, it's okay, then I will just drink my dinner...um, eat a bunch of cookies...oh, I mean have a salad instead.

So, how about you? Who is the picky eater in your family?

I'm back!!!

Yay!

On an actual computer and not just my little blackberry!

So, I'm off to catch up on some blogs.

yay,yay,yay,yay!

That Takes Skills

To annoy me so quickly.

Hubs had been gone for over a week. He unexpectedly came home last night when I thought he'd be gone another week or so. YAY!

But, by 8am this morning, I wanted to kill him.

That takes some serious skills on his part.

The snoring, bed-hogging, and cover-hogging.

Not getting up with the boys this morning when he promised he'd let me sleep in.

Sending a message upstairs with Monkey that I should wait to make his breakfast so it's still warm for him.

Asking me why I didn't go to the store yesterday. Yeah, with the huge storm that we had all day long yesterday.

Being annoyed that he has to get up so I can run to the store for milk

Having some rah-rah take-over-the-world meeting this morning that he needs to take his laptop to.

Did I mention leaving my desktop at my brother's house, 600+ miles away?

Oh and being irritated at me for not being psychic and knowing he was out of shaving cream. This from the same guy who took my toothbrush, face soap, and deodorant with him on his trip last week. And who put my hair dryer, flat iron,and brush so far back in storage that it will take a two day mission to be able to dig them out.

Then there's the dirty clothes on my clean floor and dirty dishes on the counter.

I'm glad he's here, really.

I just wish he hadn't brought all his annoying habits with him.

Out of the Box

The two big boys tried out a preschool this morning. As I was filling out all the paperwork that they insisted they must have, even though I insisted I wasn't sure if I was going to enroll the boys there, I noticed their list of do's and do not's.

It had to do with their discipline policy and had 10-12 items on the do list and about as many on the do not list.

Seemed like normal stuff, though two items stuck out to me.

We DO NOT spank, shake, bite, pinch, push, pull, slap, or otherwise physically punish the children.

I'm glad to hear that. But, that's a direct quote. It just seems like there is a less violent way to put it.

The second gem:

We DO NOT place the children in locked rooms, closets, or boxes as punishment.

Should I be worried that other schools do not specifically state that they DO NOT place my kids in boxes?

As far as the preschool itself, I DO NOT think it is where the boys will be going.

I spoke with the director at considerable length of my concerns about finding a place that is right for Bear. That he has some issues that I know are challenging and I need to know that a school can work with him before enrolling my boys. That Monkey can hold his own wherever, as long as it is a quality school, there isn't a concern about him.

But, at pick up time, what did I hear about Bear?

Direct quote here- she didn't even use his name:

"The little one would not listen. At. All. "

That's it.

Then, she proceeded to rave about Monkey's "impressive cognitive abilities. "

Not that it isn't nice to hear, but it's like she did NOT listen to me at all.

So, I DO NOT think that this is the school for them.

There's another preschool right down the street from them where Bear can start in the 2s room and transition to the 3s. There are music classes that they participate in at the arts school next door, too, which my musical Bear will love. It's also much more structured, which will help him AND Monkey will love that.

Though, maybe I should ask if they will put my boys in boxes if they are bad...

Shopping Spree

Suphamommy and Mommybrain(see their links over in my scrolly thingy) want to know what you'd buy if you could go on a clothing shopping spree.

I love how this fits right in with the way I've been thinking lately.

I want to attempt to be more put together and not always look like such a frump. But, it's hard to change your way of thinking. I had a giftcard for gap a few weeks ago and while my intention was to buy something a little more fashionable, I zoomed right in on the sweats, trying to justify that they were "nice" sweats.

I did come to my senses and buy a cute tailored khaki jacket instead.

But, that's just a start. No more gift cards lying around for me to use. But, today, I get to pretend.

I still want to be comfortable, but a tad more put together would be nice.

So, here's what I would buy:

1. True Religion jeans. I've tried these on before and they worship my body- I guess that's where the religion part comes in. I look thinner in them, but still curvy. I look like I've never gone through chilbirth, let alone 3 times. I'll take the breast cancer awareness ones they put out last month- a good cause and all the detailing is pink. Let's just call this item "pants" and lump in a pair of their khakis and cords, too.

2. A cute jean jacket- one that fits really well and looks great with khakis. Maybe we'll just stick with TR brand, but as long as it looks good, I don't care.

3.Stretchy V-neck t-shirts. The type that have that dip in at the waist. In a variety of colors- and yes, I'm counting this as one item. If you saw how woefully inadequate my wardrobe is, you'd understand.
4. Some sort of shoes that are both comfy and stylish. The last time I spent any real sort of money on shoes was 9 years ago, when I bought a pair of doc marten mary janes- that I still wear. So, I have no idea what is out there. Can I get a personal shopper to come along with me? And a matching belt and purse, too.

5. Lastly: I have totally been taken in by the ads for the new V's Secret bra that promises to add 2 extra cup sizes.

If any of us hit the lottery anytime soon, let's celebrate by going on a shopping spree, okay?

P.s. I still can't link up so could someone please link me up? By the end of the week, I should be back on my computer!

Memories of a Place

I usually suffer from CRS. I blame my kids. Better them than getting older.

But, certain things can trigger memories for me.

Songs can.

So can being in the same place where things happened.

I feel like I'm being bombarded by memories this week.

Even though Hubs and I lived down here together for about 5 years, we were a few towns over.

But, I did live here before.

I moved here the day after I turned 22 to start teaching. After only seeing the area for a few hours.

Yesterday, I drove past the cute little place where I used to live alone(ok, semi-alone, but I'll get to that...maybe).

Suddenly, I remembered my attempt to rollerblade down my street that went horribly wrong when a rock got stuck in between the wheels and I busted up my knees and palms. If you had asked me before yesterday, I would have told you I'd never even owned rollerblades.

Another memory: opening up the door to find a bouquet of roses that were the most beautiful shade of pink I'd ever seen.

The phone ringing late at night and having it be a crazed cheerleading mom wanting to know why her daughter was placed where she was in the newest dance.

Another late night phone call. This one from somewhere in Ireland, from my boyfriend who was on his way to Greece and wanted to tell me that he loved me.

It's so odd when I think back at all that happened so long ago.

It's like it happened to someone else.

Ten years can seem like no time at all and like a whole lifetime ago at the same time.

Now I'm Brave

Now that it's daytime and the sun is shining, it feels so peaceful to be in this deserted part of the beach.

Besides, my boys are SO FREAKIN LOUD that if we had neighbors, I'd expect our doorbell to be ringing non-stop, frantic poundings on the doors to our decks, people shouting rude comments from their decks, threatening notes, and dogs being allowed to poop right at the bottom of the stairs that lead from our house to the sand.

All in a very pointless effort to get my kids to BE QUIET.

Even the fisherman who chose to park his truck about 50 yards down the beach from us seems to agree.

Dirty looks, I know that's what he's shooting us when he keeps turning to look at the house(tonight I'll be convinced he was plotting to come back and get us).

Maybe I should apologize for my boys, who are loud enough to scare fish away from the shore.

Thanks for all the reassuring comments. Mommybrain's ladle comment- if you haven't read that story, you need to go find it on her blog as it is heeee-larious.

I also noticed that the time stamp is way off on here. I was not freaked out by 5pm.

It takes until at least 9pm for me to turn into a paranoid chickenshit.

Super Freaked

Super freaked, super freaked, I'm super freaked out.

Before I get to why I'm singing my own version of that song, let me just say that I'm reading your comments and visiting your blogs. But, I still have no computer and no idea how on earth to comment with this crackberry. One more week and I should be back. Thanks for bearing with me.

Hubs had to go back up to our old house to clear everything else out and to finish out a job, so he was only here with us for slightly over 48 hours.
The boys and I are on our own. Not really that big of a deal.

Well, except for at night, like now.

We are staying in a gorgeous house, right on the beach-don't hate- it's only for 6 months while we look for a "real" place to live and that place won't be anywhere near as nice as this one unless we hit the lottery.

Anyway, the reason that we are able to stay here is because this little town is practically dead in the off-season so the people who own this house figure that they'd rather get some sort of compensation during these 6 months than nothing at all.

During the day, we can look out and see people walking or fishing on the beach, though not many.

But, at night, when I look out the window and don't see any lights on in any of the houses around us, I get freaked out. It's like something out of a horror movie.

No one is around to hear us scream.

I imagine some crazy man walking along the beach, looking for houses that have lights on and planning his attack.

The doors are locked, but why not break in? No one else will hear.

When Hubs was here, we slept with the sliding door to the deck open so that we could fall asleep to the sound of the ocean.

No freaking way when he isn't here, though.

Nevermind, I can't keep going with all my freaked out thoughts or I'll never be able to sleep tonight.

lisa!

Since I can't figure out how to leave a comment using my blackberry, you get your very own post.

I go to blogspot and log in from there and click on new post on that screen to blog from this addicting little device.

I can't do it when I'm looking at my blog though- there's no dashboard thingy to click on.

If anyone has any tips for blogging or commenting from a blackberry, pleaser share.

I have to go stop my oldest 2 from burying Cub too deeply in the sand. (Seriously- who's coming to visit?)

TooTired to Spell Anything Right

I was beyond tired when I was writing about Monkey's take on health care reform. I knew Obama's name looked wrong but I couldn't figure it out. I woke up with a start in the middle of the night, realizing that I am an idiot who can't spell. I can't even fix it because I get an error message when I try to edit.

Go ahead and laugh at me, but then go read what Monkey thinks about Obama.

No More Rush

You'll have to bear with me as I do not have my computer and won't for another week or maybe even two. So, it's hard for me to check in with all of your blogs and comments.I'm doing my best with my blackberry.

We survived the move and arrived safely. We're getting settled in and I'm very excited about the new direction we're headed in.

But, I can't pass up telling you about Monkey and what happened when his grandfather listened to Rush Limbaugh when Monkey was in the car with him.

I guess Rush was ranting about health care reform.

This is Monkey's take on it: When Grammy and Papa get old, Barack Obama is going to kill them. He's going to kill all the old people because he's mean.

What am I supposed to do with that?

Monkey has also said that he is going to save all his money in his bank and give it to his grandparents so that Barack doesn't kill them.

AND! When we were in Wally World yesterday, Monkey sees this cute little old lady and says to her "Are you old? Barack Obama is going to kill you.".

Letting a 4 year old listen to Rush: what a horrific idea.

Post-its for Packing

I'm doing this early, before we move. I'm not sure if I'll be able to get online right away...so if you are seeing this and I'm not linked up with Supah, could you link me? And then play along!!!

Here are my labels as I was packing for our move.

I started out all nice and organized: whose it was and where it should go:

Then, still specific in my labels, but not really sure where I'm going to put something:

Um, still sort of descriptive:

Well, that's good to know:
Running out of time and desperate to get it all out:
And finally:
I'll figure out what that is later.

Best Friends

I kind of hesitate to use that term, since it seems silly to use it as an adult, but it's accurate, so I'm going to not care that I sound childish.

My best friend and I met when we were in preschool. We have a darling pic of the two of us at the Christmas program in our frilly holiday dresses.

We were friends from then through high school. Not always the best of friends. Sometimes we were in different classes and sometimes we were in different circles. We never had any major fights, we just would kind of drift apart sometimes, but always come back together.

When I went away to college, we lost touch.

I'm not really sure why. Just headed in different directions, I guess.

We would think about each other often(I have later found out) and try to get in touch, but it wouldn't work or we would feel stupid about calling someone however many years later.

But, about a year ago, we ran into each other at the peds office.

She has two boys, almost exactly the same ages as my oldest two.

But, we acted all stupid and didn't exchange any sort of contact info.

Then, in February, I broke down and joined in the FB addiction and we found each other on there.

Since then, we have become inseparable.

At least one playdate a week for our kids, somewhere where we can easily keep an eye on them so that we can talk. And talk. And talk.

In the almost 14 years that we did not talk, we have found out that despite not talking to each other, we had very similar experiences.

We got engaged within months of each other.

We decided to cheat on the guys we were engaged to so that we would then be forced to end engagements that we knew weren't right. (I know- how awful! And it's something that is hard to explain unless you were in the situation, but since we both did the same thing, we totally understand each other)...oh, and we both did this rather appalling thing within a month of each other.

Both broke off our engagements in the same week as the other. Her, with relief; me, with a broken heart.

Both got engaged again in the same month.(not to the same guys that we were previously engaged to)

Married within months of each other.

Had our first and second boys within months of each other. Too bad she doesn't have a counterpart to my Cub, though.

Oh, and that won't happen b/c our dhs got snipped within months of each other, too. Ahaha.

Looking back, we think why the heck weren't we talking?

Granted, we lived far apart for the majority of that time, but how comforting it would have been to have someone who really understood what the other was going through.

It seems like such a waste that we weren't there for each other for so long.

And now, of course, I'm moving away.

She's pretty much the only non-family member that I expect to come visit, despite claims from other friends. And the only friend that I will be sure to visit when we are back up here, visiting my family.

This last bit is going to sound a little bit after-school-special-ish and disconnected, but I'm going to say it anyway.
If there is anyone in your life that you were close to, I urge you to find them and see if you can reconnect. I so wish that we had done that sooner.