Hi There.

You are actually not quite at Buried with Children yet.

Yes, this is a Buried with Children site but it is my old one.
So click the link below and come and see what is new.

Buried with Children

Same Girl, Just a New Look

My new place is all set up. It is still a work in progress but for the most part its done. Come on over and join me.

Buried with Children

I can't wait for you to see it. I hope that you all like it, I am totally in love.

Dear Friends and Readers

I am taking a moment to say thank you. I just want you all to know how thankful I am for you. I love to write and it makes me so happy that I can make you all laugh, make you think and touch your hearts.

You all have given me more than you know. Just as I have made you laugh, you have made me laugh with your comments and emails. You have touched my heart. It just makes me smile to think about how people actually like reading what I put out there and they like to do it every day.

But in light of my last post, I am going to take a little break over the weekend. I need to live life a little in order to come up with some more stories to tell.

And while I am off this weekend, things will be changing over here. I have decided to go through a whole blog make-over and that includes a move to Wordpress. I really have had no issues in using Blogger but with the goals that I have set for myself as a writer and as a blogger, I feel that this is a necessary move.

I can't wait for you all to see the new look. I just love it and can't wait for it to be up and running. But before I can get there, things are going to be a work in progress for a few days. Things might look different. You might not be able to get to the site but don't worry and try to remain calm.

(This is more a warning for myself. In the grand scheme of things I know that the fact that you can't get to my blog is not a big deal but for me it is. This blog is my baby. It contains my blood sweat and tears. It holds memories of my children and words of hope. I have put countless hours in it and I just want it to be alright.)

I am hoping that no one gets lost in the transfer and if that happens I hope you will try and find me again. I look at this as a way to see who my tried and true readers are.

I would like to leave you with something that Hayden said to me,

"Mom, I can see you in my heart that means you are very special."

And I can see you all in my heart so you are all so special to me.

Have a great weekend and I will see you on the other side.

~Jen

Cracking

I like to say that I live in a bubble. Some might say that I live in denial but I like to call it self preservation. I take great measures to shield myself from the happenings in the world and sometimes life in general.

Some may think that it is irresponsible but it is the only real way I have to protect me.

In my profession, I deal with the sick of the sickest people. I watch mother's loose their children, son's loose their fathers and so on. There is sadness and pain all around me. I can't let these things into my heart. I can't get attached. This doesn't mean that I don't care. I just have to be the strong one, the one that they can lean on. I have to try and help them find hope or something to hold onto when their world is tumbling down around them.

In my home life, I am a mother. I have four children, four pieces of my heart walking around outside of my body. Walking around out there where the world can take them at any time. These little people need me. They need me to show them to goodness and beauty of the world. I need to be strong for them when life is tough. I need to be the one strong constant in their life so that they can learn from me how to deal with the hardships. Be it frustration in not getting a toy to work, be it the sting of failure or pain and heartache of loss.

So I live in a bubble. I put walls up around my heart and stand strong. I will not let life not to get to us. But sometimes, no matter how strong my will is, life penetrates my bubble. It can be just a small hole with an easy fix or it can be a very large crack needing more attention.

My bubble is cracking.

This crack is not caused my something large but by many small things that have come at me. There are many things that I need to come to terms with. There are many things that I need to stop taking care of myself and leave them at the feet of my Lord.

Because sometimes, no matter how strong I am, I am not that strong.

It is time for me to step outside my bubble and deal with things. I have to let myself feel. I have to let myself cry and for a few moments I have to let myself be weak and vulnerable.

And even though, I know that the world is full or sadness and pain and it is going to touch me. I also know that there is goodness, joy and love in the world. I am going to use this to rebuild my bubble.

I am going to stand in the sun and let the warmth bathe over me.

I am going to take in the beauty of the crisp winter sky.

I am going to breath deeply.

I am going to cry until the tears are gone.

I am going to laugh until my sides ache.

I am going to enjoy my children.

I am going to love my husband.

I am going to write.

I am going to pray.

And I am going to be ok.

Squish Squish Snuggle Snuggle

Quinn told and Jake told Claire,
"Let go sit in the big comfy chair."

Squish, squish snuggle snuggle.
Will there be enough room?

"Wee" said Quinn to Jake and Claire.
"I'll beat you to your seat in the big comfy chair."

Squish squish snuggle snuggle.
Will there be enough room?

Here comes Jake and tag along Claire.
Both on their way to the big comfy chair.

Squish Squish

Snuggle Snuggle

Now their all in the big comfy chair.

Based on the book "Chicka Chicka ABC"

Wordful Wednesday is Host by Angie.

Olympic Mom Proud

I have really been enjoying the Olympics. I really enjoy watching all the athletes and rooting for my favorites. But along with watching the athletes, I have been fascinated with watching the reactions of their mothers.

I think this might have something to do with the P&G commercial, "To Their Moms, They'll Always Be Kids". Ever since I saw this commercial, it just struck a cord with me. And every time I see it, I get goose bumps and a little teary eyed.

I actually think that I know a little of how they are feeling. And no, its not because jumping on furniture has become an Olympic sport. If this were the case my kids would totally take gold, hands down.

Its because recently I have been beaming with pride over Hayden's behavior in school.

For the most part Hayden likes school. He enjoys his friends and learning math and science. He also is really, really excited that he is learning to read. But one thing that he really struggles with is following the class room rules, like sitting still, waiting your turn, personal space and not following directions. To put it simply, Hayden and sitting still go to together as well as oil and water.

Hayden's teacher has a reward system set up to foster good behavior and following the class room rules. Each child starts out with a green card by their name every day and if they misbehave the card is turned to yellow and sometimes red. But if the child can keep their card green all day, then they can pick a prize from the prize chest.

Hayden often times comes home from school, saying that his card is always gets turned to yellow. I, of course, ask him why to which he answers, "Mom, yellow is just the bestest I can do. I try and try to keep my card green but I just can't."

I know that he wants to get a green card but I don't push him too hard. I know that he will get there. But everyday before school, Jeff and I just remind him to do his best and really, really try hard to keep his card green.

One morning, I found Hayden playing with this new little toy that I didn't recognize. I asked him about it. "I got it from the prize chest because I kept my card green all week!" He said with a smile from ear to ear.

I squealed with delight, did a little happy dance, grabbed him and gave him a huge hug!

I couldn't have been more proud if he had just won Olympic gold.

Staring at a Blank Screen for a Long Time, Produced This

I don't really believe in writer's block. I think that there is always something that you can write about. I feel that there is always something that happens through out the day to inspire a story. It just takes the brain power and a little whit to form those happenings into something fun and enjoyable for people to read.

I constantly find things that spark inspiration in my mind. As soon as ideas hit me, I will write them down in my journal or I will play around with them in my head. And by the end of the day, when I sit down in front of my computer, I can usually write something that is sort of funny and makes people laugh.

But lately, this process has been more difficult. I am struggling for ideas. I am struggling to find the humor in life. The kids have not been very funny. They have just been really annoying. And I am sure that you all don't really want to read about how whiny my children are.

I was starting to think that these winter months were beginning to take its toll on me and my creative process or that the kids have finally sucked the funnies out of me. But then a light bulb went off and I figured out what the problem was.

Sex.

Yes, that is right. Having sex is the reason why I can't form a coherent thought to develop a well written post.

You see with the fact that Valentine's day just happened and there has been a little more romance going on around here than normal has led me to the conclusion that having sex causes everything creative to leave my brain.

So I have decided, after much protesting from Jeff, that there is going to be a lot less sex going on around here. I really have no choice. This has to be done for the goodness that is the blog. I have a following and I need to deliver something other than a post about how I can't write and have sex at the same time or whatever it is that I am trying to say.

I guess that the cause of my lack of brain function could be blamed on the fact that the kids are sick, we have not been sleeping, I feel like I am getting sick, the fact that the world around me is gray, snow covered and blah or that I have been watching the Olympics late into the night.

But, nah. I think that is has everything to do with the sex.

Jeff, I am just kidding....

Maybe

The First Date

"Is that what you are going to wear?" My mom asked me as I walked past her room on my way out.

"Yeah. I am comfortable and plus, I like this shirt." I said as I kissed her on the forehead. "Bye, Mom. I'll be home before midnight."

I was on my way to go on my first date with Jeff. I was wearing a green over-sized hooded sweatshirt. This was not only my first date with Jeff but my first real date with a boy.

I remember that I didn't feel like I thought I would feel about my first date. In the movies, girls were always nervous and stressed about what they were going to wear and their make-up. Those things really didn't matter to me. Sure, there were a few butterflies in my stomach but for the most part, I just felt comfortable.

I liked Jeff. He was easy to talk to. He made me laugh. I liked the way I felt around him. I liked how I could just be me. I liked how it just felt right. It was like my heart knew something before my head did.

Although, our first date almost didn't happen. Jeff and I actually met for the first time a couple weeks earlier. I was going out with my best friend and she knew some guys that were going to hang out. She wanted to go over to their house. I just wanted to go out.

Upon meeting Jeff, I really never gave him a second thought. I thought that he was not 'my type'. He had blond hair, blue eyes and he was shorter than me. I was suppose to be with someone tall, dark and handsome, or so I thought.

But throughout the night, Jeff just kept showing up to talk to me. He was funny. I laughed a lot when he was around. And I liked the way he made me feel.

But the thing that sealed the deal for me was towards the end of the night. I was tired. I wanted to go home but my girl friend wanted to stay. So I lay down on the couch to wait for her.

The problem was I was cold. I tried to curl up as tight as I could to get warm and go to sleep but I couldn't stop shivering. Then suddenly, someone put a coat over me. I opened my eyes and Jeff's sweet smile was what a I saw. He then took a seat down by my feet and began to give me a foot message.

At that moment, it was like a light bulb went off. I knew there was something about this guy. I knew I needed to see him again.

It took some doing but I finally got his phone number. I held onto to for a week and stressed about whether to call him or not. Until finally, my best friend dialed his number and then when he answered, she handed me the phone.

I asked him if he had any plans for Friday night. He told me, not really but he had to mop the kitchen floor for his mom before he could go out. (For the record, I thought this was the sweetest thing ever.)

We talked for over two hours but decided that the next night, Valentine's Day, we would go out to eat and see a movie.

During our date, he opened every door for me, held my hand during the movie, held me close when I got scared during the movie and at the end of the night, he asked if he could see me again. Then he leaned in and kissed me good night on the cheek.

From then on, I was hooked.

That date was 13 years ago. We have spent Valentine's day together ever since. Some dates have been better than others, some more fancy and some more romantic. But at the end of the day, the only real thing that matters is that we are together.

And God willing, we always will be.

Don't Worry I Am Not That Talented

With the help of my super cake making hubby,
the kids and I made this.

Wanna see how?

Check out my feature at
Multiples and More.

Dear So and So

Dear Male Co-Workers,

We are all nurses. No matter how you slice it, this is predominately female profession. So please for the love of Pete put the toilet down after you pee.

~ Your female co-worker who is tried of having a wet butt.

******

Dear Jake,

4:30am is still the middle of the night. Please stop waking up at this time and expecting me to put Little Einsteins on for you. Go to sleep. Stay asleep. And wake up at a reasonable hour like 6am.

~ Your Mommy, who is thisclose to tying you in your bed.

******

Dear Patient,

When I place a rectal tube in your butt to collect your multiple bowl movement's, I except it to stay there. I didn't not put it there for you to try and pull it off

~A Nurse who is sick and tired of cleaning up your poop filled bed.

******

Dear Words,

Please stop being so difficult to spell.

~ A girl who loves spell check.

******

Dear Bedroom TV Remote Control,

Please come out of hiding. You have been gone for such a long time and I am really getting tired of watching the Travel Channel.

~ A girl who is too warm and cozy, ok lazy, to get out of bed to change the channel.

******

Dear Jeff,

I know that I said I didn't want to do anything for Valentine's Day but I decided I want too.

I decided I don't want too.

I decided I do want too.

I decided I don't want too.

~ Your loving wife who often changes her mind.

******

Dear Fox Network,

Is it time for more Glee yet? I miss it.

~ A fan who is starting to go through withdrawals.

******

Dear Household Members,

The only people that belong in the big bed in the back of the house are Jeff and Jen. Children are not allowed. Cats are not allowed. Toys are not allowed. Please stay in your own respective beds.

~ A woman who really needs her own space.

******

Dear Readers,

I can't begin to tell you all how much I love you all. You make me happy. I hope you enjoyed these 'Dear So and So' letters. They are the brain child of Kat at 3 Bedroom Bungalow.

Where's the Peanut Butter

"What?" I said as I looked around at my unfamiliar surrounding. "Where in the world am I? And is that sand I feel between my toes? What is going on?"

I got up, brushed myself off and looked around. I appeared to be on a beach, a white sandy beach with turquoise water lapping at the sand. The wind quietly blew through my hair and I heard the rustle of the palm leaves.

Was I on a deserted island? How in the world was this possible? The last thing that I remember was standing in my kitchen trying to make lunch while the kids ran around.

"My kids!" the words that I heard leave my lips had a panicky tone. "Who is with my kids? I can't be here."

"Don't worry, Mama. They're fine."

I looked in the directions of the voice. And when I found it, I was blinded by the all the sequins.

I closed my eyes, shook my head and opened them again. I was not seeing this. How could this be?

"E-E-Elvis?" I asked.

"That's right," he said with a curl to his lips and a shake in his hips. "It's me in the flesh. A hunk a hunk burning love."

"But you're dead! I read about your death in my history books. Wait, did I get hit on the head? Are you just an Elvis impersonator? Am I unconscious or something? This is not real. This can't be real. Elvis, I mean you are dead, I know it. Wait? Who is that?" I asked referring to the big chested blond woman who was sunning herself on the beach.

"Well, sugar, that is Anna Nicole Smith." Elvis said as he shook his hips back and forth doing a little jig in the sand.

I didn't really know what to say. One minute I was in my house in the middle of winter and the next minute I was on a tropical island with Elvis dancing a jig on the beach and Anna Nicole sunning herself.

"Where am I? What is this place?" I asked Elvis. I needed him to stand still all his shaking and gyrating was giving me a headache because every time he moved the rhinestones on his white jumpsuit caught the sun and reflected directly into my eyes.

"This is our island. We all live here in peace." He said between dance moves.

"I thought this was an island but where... wait. You said, 'we'. Who is we? Who else is here?" I asked my curiosity peaked but at the same time I braced myself. I mean, I half expected Big Foot to come out from behind the bushes.

"Well," he said as he finally stopped moving, "Anna is here and the Princess. Michael and John. We all live here in peace and away from the public."

"Let me get this straight. You are telling me that Princess Diana, John F. Kennedy Jr, Michael Jackson, Anna Nicole Smith and you, Elvis, all live here? On this island?"

He nodded at me. "But you all are dead?" I continued. "Wait, am I here because I died?"

"We are very much alive and kicking. We just needed an escape. The public life got to be too much so we faked our deaths and here we are. Safe, happy and free." He educated me.

"Really. You know, I always thought that is what happened to you all. Hollywood can be so cruel. I can't imagine being under the microscope like that." I paused to let him adjust his jumpsuit. "But I am still confused. What am I doing here? I am a blogger and sorta in the public eye but that's only on the Internet and its not like I am blogfamous like Mama Kat or anything. So Elvis, why am I here?"

"Huh?" he grunted and appeared to be distracted by something in my hand. "Oh, uh, I needed some peanut butter and a banana for my favorite sandwich. So, I'll take that."

And with that he took the peanut butter jar that I had been holding in my hand and seconds after the jar left my head, my vision went blurry and I left things rushing by my face.

Suddenly, I felt my body stop. I landed with a thud against something hard. I was afraid to open my eye because who knows where I was now. But then I felt a familiar touch on my face.

"Mom. Mom. Can I have a peanut butter and banana sandwich? I wanna a face with the banana like Daddy does."

I opened my eyes to see Hayden's face right in mine. He was so close to me that I could smell this candy heart laced breath. I felt the hard kitchen floor under my feet. I saw Hayden standing on a stool. I was back in our house, in my kitchen. It must have been a weird day dream. I knew that it couldn't have been real.

"Mom!" Hayden began again, "I am hungry. Will you make me a sandwich?"

"Sure, Hayden. I will make you a sandwich." I said as I went to the cupboard to pull out the peanut butter. But as I opened the door and started to reach for the jar... there was nothing there. It was gone.

Then it hit me.

It was real.

Elvis is alive and he has my peanut butter.

This crazy post has been part of Writer's Workshop.



Don't ask where it came from.
I sat down to write and there it was.
Who knows maybe this really did happen.

A Good Rule to Follow

There are really not a lot of rules to follow at an indoor play place.

For the most part, you just have to keep your socks on and be under a certain height to play.

Oh, and you must run around, yell and scream and have a good time.

But I think that they need to add one more rule.

And this rule would state,

Don't rub your forehead on the netting until it produces a raw sore.

Yeah, I am thinking that would be a good rule.

Especially for this boy.

"Mom, I was just rubbing my head on the net. You didn't tell me I would get an owie."

Wordful Wednesday is hosted by Angie

Independence Streak

My Darling Daughter,

We need to have a little chat. I just want to tell you how happy I am that in this mess of boys, I got my one little girl.

I just love the fact that you like to go online shopping with me at Gymboree.com. We have so much fun looking at the sale pages and picking out outfits. Your sense of style is really coming along. I love the fact that you like shopping. Maybe someday we can graduate to the actual mall until the time when you deem me to uncool to be seen with you.

I also love the fact that every time I go into the kitchen to make dinner, you either beg to help me or you go into your little kitchen and start making dinner too. You always make your specialty, "white chicken pasta." You will happily set the table and I just love that.

It makes me giggle when you try and mother your brothers by yelling, "Stop it, now! You get on the naughty chair!" Really, sweetie, they barely listen to me. I don't think they are going to listen to you but I do appreciate the effort. I'll take all the help that I can get.

What I need to talk to you about is this independent streak that you are on. Now, I know that you are suppose to learn to do things for yourself. It's all part of growing up but right now the fact that you want to put your own shoes on or dress yourself is really a pain in my ass.


Especially, the long drawn out tantrums that you throw when I won't let you do this. I don't like this when it happens at home and I really don't like it when are on the floor kicking and screaming for all your worth in the middle of the store.

I know that you can do these things and I know that I have to let you. And upon occasion I am will to do so. But you are just so slow and I just don't have that kind of time. We keep a strict schedule.

And besides, while I am waiting for you, your brothers are on the loose doing God knows what in the van. Most likely, its eating food that they find between the seats which is not good for them and kind of gross.

And right now, since I have still have to do these things for your brothers it really doesn't help all that much. Besides the fact, you are making your brothers look bad. You see, boys are slow. It takes them a while to pick up on things. So how do you think it makes me them feel to watch you put your shoes on all by yourself when they don't even know that shoes go on their feet?


So how about this, I will let you put your shoes and coat on. But you have only the time it takes me to get the boys dress and I will even promise to do it at half my normal speed to give you more time. But then I am going to do it for you.

It's a compromise, sweetie.

Life is full of them.

We will re-evaluate once your brothers catch up with your skills.

Love,
Mommy

Life's Great Mysteries

The other day, I took a day off.

I really, really needed it. My sanity was hanging on by a very thin, short thread. I just needed a day all to myself. A day where my needs were the only ones that I needed to worry about.

So I took a personal day from work, sent the kids off to school and daycare and had Jeff go to work.

It was awesome. At first the silence of the house was a bit overwhelming but I quickly adjusted.

I spent the morning on the couch, watching TNT, blogging and sipping coffee.

It was heavenly.

No one asked me for juice or told me that they had a poopy diaper. No one needed me to give the pain medication or needed their bed linens changed. The only time I got up from the couch was to get more coffee and to get the power cord for my lap top.

But after a while, I decided that I was hungry so I thought that taking myself out to lunch would be a good idea. And while I was at it, I thought going to see a movie would be in order too.

I decided to go and see 'The Blind Side' with Sandra Bullock. If you have not seen this movie, you really should. It is very good. Just the right mix of heart warming and funny. Plus it gave me the idea that I may need to adopt an older child for the free child care that it would provide (ok, I am kidding but it's kind of nice to think about).

As I was paying an arm and a leg for some popcorn and a drink so big I could swim in it, I saw something that caught my eye. There was a sign that was propped up between the ticket counter and the concession counter. It said,

"No One Under 6
Admitted to Movies
Rated R after 6pm"

This sign really confused me. At first, I wondered why in the world, there was a need for this sign. Do people really take their young children into movies that have been rated R? Obviously, they must since there is such a sign and I have seen young children in movies that were not exactly child appropriate.

But I wondered if maybe before 6pm, the rated R movies were toned down a bit. Maybe movie theaters were sent two copies of a movie, the before 6pm addition and then the after 6pm addition.

My curiosity got the better of me so I asked the teenaged kid who was getting me my popcorn.

Me: So I was just wondering, are you guys sent two copies of a movie?

The Kid: Huh?

Me: You know, like one that is more tame that is shown before 6pm for kids and one that is more racy that is shown after 6pm?

The Kid: Huh?

Me: You see the sign right there? About no one under 6 let in after 6 pm to the rated R shows, I just wanted to know if you guys got two copies of a rated R movie, a normal one and one that is more kid friendly?

The Kid: *blank stare*

Me: Oh never mind.

The Kid: Ummm, yeah, do you want butter on your popcorn?

Well, that conversation was a waste of time and brain cells. I guess I may not ever get an answer to my question. It is just going to be one of life's great mysteries. Right up there with, how many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop or who really is responsible for the crop circles?

Some things, I guess are just not meant to be known.

There are Super Heroes Living in my House

I am a little late to this bandwagon but I recently discovered the goodness that is Esty.
Esty, for those of you that don't know, if a site where people can set up a store for goods that they make.
There are some really, really cool homemade things on this site.
You can find everything from really cool jewelry to furniture and clothes.
I am really liking this site.
It is so cool to find unique, one of a kind gifts.

Recently, I found some really cool gifts for my kids.
I was surfing along and stumbled on the store named
Dogwood Creations.

She makes the cutest kids stuff, especially the capes.
As soon as I saw them, I knew that my kids would love them.
I quickly emailed her and she got to work right away on my order.

And now, I have four Super Heroes!


I just love them in their capes and the kids love them too.
In fact the first time I put them on, they didn't take them off.
They even had to sleep in their capes.

So if you want to make your kids super heroes, go and check out Dogwood Creations.
You won't be sorry.

Super Kids!

Dirty Banana

When I was a freshman in college, I was invited to a bachelorette party.

Now, it wasn't a 'real' bachelorette because most of us were under age so instead of going out to the bar and whooping it up like most girls do at a bachelorette party, we played games, fun bachelorette party games.

The most fun one being, rubber veggie aka who can put a condom on a cucumber and a banana with their teeth the fastest. Being the young, naive college co-ed that I was, I was really interested in this game.

(This was before I was a nurse and had had all the experience with penis' that I do today.)

You see, I had never seen a condom outside of its package, let alone touched one or put one on. Heck, I had never even seen a penis outside of my anatomy book. So I thought this would be very good learning experience for me and possibly a good skill to have.

I was given a banana and a cucumber and two condoms. I then went to town and ripped open the package. I struggled for a while, crushed the banana, took a bite or two out of the cucumber but after about 3o minutes those pieces of fruit were good and rubbered.

The other girls in my group, I am guessing were more experienced than me because I finished last. They tried to help by heckling me and talking dirty about my play penis but it didn't help.

It was just embarrassing.

And even a little dirty.

This whole experience has left a big impression on me. To this day, I can not look at a cucumber or a banana with out thinking of a condom and all the things that I had to do to get them shoved into their 'wrappers'.

Thankfully, here in Michigan, cucumbers are seasonal so I really only have to deal with them in the summer but bananas, bananas are here all year round and my kids happen to LOVE to eat them. So bananas are a staple in our house.

When I walk by the bowl, they always seem to taunt me. Images flash in my head of condom wrappers flying every where and me trying to shove one into one of those little buggers. I hear my friends heckles and I get the slightest taste of rubber in my mouth.

And now after having children and the fact that was I was an ER nurse and I have seen and heard it all about sex, penis' and condoms, I can't help but giggle. Instead of embarrassment, my inner 13 year old boy comes out.

Especially when I hear myself say things like this.

"Don't play with your banana, eat it."

"We don't lick bananas, we bite them."

"Please don't stroke/squeeze the banana, be nice to it."

"Don't shove that thing down your throat."

And there are more, especially when Jeff gets going. But I will leave it at that and keep things PG-13.

The sad part is, I will never again be able to see a banana as just a delicious piece of fruit. Nope, bananas will now always be dirty to me.

And something tells me, that after this, they might be for you too.

Things I Didn't Know

Motherhood or parenthood, if you will, is a very strange thing. Raising children, guiding them and molding them into successful members of society and people is a very big and overwhelming job. It is also the most important job you will ever do in your life.

That being said, it is the only job that I can think of that doesn't involve or include multiple hours of training or schooling.

All you have to do is find a partner, get busy at the right time and poof! Nine months later, someone is handing you a little bundle (or multiple bundles) and says, 'here you go'. And that's it. You are off and running.

Does that seem weird to anyone? It does to me but yet everyone who is a parent has just excepted this, took the kid and went along their merry way. I did it. No questions asked.

So needless to say there are a lot of things that we don't know as we enter this parenthood journey. Here are a few that I had no idea about before I was a mom.

1. I had no idea about how often you were suppose to feed a baby or how much that you needed to feed them. Shoot, I didn't realize that they should be fed. Don't babies just self feed?

2. I had no idea that I would pray for at least 3 hours of sleep in a row and consider that a good night of sleep.

3. I had no idea that my pre-baby body was awesome. I would kill to get it back again but when I had it, I thought it sucked.

4. I had no idea how much poop a small child could produce. Seriously, where in the world does it come from.

5. I had no idea how annoying and mind numbing children's cartoons were. If I have to listen to Dora's map tell me how to get to Grandma's house one more time, I may just throw a child at the TV.

6. I had no idea how sentimental I would be. I have saved clothes that my children wore when they were tiny babies. These clothes are in perfect condition and someone could get good use out of them but I just can't let them go. Or my closet shelf in my room is over flowing with my children's art work. I have saved almost every piece and I can't bare to part with it.

7. I had no idea the lengths that I would go to to stop a crying fit. I prevent crying at all costs. I am willing to run up and down the stairs as many, times as it takes to get each child their precious toy.

8. I had no idea the crippling power of mommy guilt. I had no idea how it could eat me up inside and make me sick to my stomach.

9. I had no idea how judgmental other mommy's could be. It is so sad that we judge. We should not judge but offer compassion because we all have been there.

10. I had no idea that I would want to or be able to catch child vomit in my hands to save the carpet or a piece of furniture.

And so much more. I am pretty sure that in the years to come, even more things will prevent themselves as things that I didn't know before I was a mom.

Click the button to read more posts from Writer's Workshop.

Got Oatmeal?

Nope.

Not when Quinn is around.

'Cause when it comes to oatmeal, that boy can eat!

Wordful Wednesday is hosted by Anige

Am I Raising Monkeys or Kids?

My kids are climbers. They always have been. As soon as they could walk, they started climbing on things. I am convinced that they learned to walk only to be able to climb on more things. You know, because when you can crawl you can only climb on toys, over turned chairs and the stairs. That doesn't get you too high or to the dangerous things.

They all climbed out of their cribs. The all have climbed onto the cupboards and gotten into things that they should not. And they all have knocked lamps off coffee tables. We really need to buy stock in light bulbs for the amount of times that we have to change the bulbs in our lamps.

It doesn't matter what I do, they just like to climb.

I have even had a babysitter tell me that she really doesn't like to watch my kids because their climbing makes her too nervous.

For the most part, they climb because they like to jump off of things or do as they call it, "big jumps" especially Quinn. (For the record, the babysitter wasn't really crazy about this either.)

I have recently discovered that Quinn like to climb up onto the rails on the cribs (that are now made into toddler bed) and walk along them. I don't know if he is trying to train to be a tight rope walker for the circus or what but he likes to get up there.

So far he has not hurt himself so I really didn't know that he was doing this. But I recently learned he does this and sometimes he gets himself stuck between the crib rail and the wall in what I can only imagine is a painful position.

I gathered this from his painful screams during what was suppose to be nap time. I raced into his room as the blood curdling screams became louder and more intense. Upon opening the door, I found Quinn pinned spread eagle between the wall and the crib rail on Jake's crib.

As I carefully removed a very upset Quinn, Jake rolled over and woke up from his sleep for a brief moment, he told me everything, "Mommy, Quinny stuck again."

Now I have to add something here. I totally wanted to take a picture. It pains me that I don't have a picture. It would have been perfect for this post but even though, I am a mommy blogger, I have to draw the line somewhere. I think that its making my kids wait while they are in pain for me to get a picture is where I am going to draw it.
For now.

Mommy Tantrum

I like to cook. To me there is something almost therapeutic about being in the kitchen in front of the stove stirring and sauteing. I don't know what it is but I never feel stressed or overwhelmed in the kitchen. It is my place to create and really be me.

Since I have a great love of cooking and the kitchen, I want to share this with my children. I love getting them involved in what I am doing in the kitchen. I think that this fosters good eating habits and helps them appreciate what it takes to get dinner on the table.

I know that my love of cooking has started to spread because any time I am in the kitchen, they all come running. They grab chairs and stools and gather round to see what I am doing. They like to learn about the different foods. They like to taste the food in its different forms, raw and cooked. And they like that I let them help.

I do love the fact that they get so excited to help me make dinner but sometimes their help is a little much.

I would say that we have a pretty good sized kitchen but when you add four kids, each with their chair or stool, and each with their toy or two of choice, there is not a whole lot of room for me or the food.

I know that they do enjoy being in the kitchen but inevitably, they all start too loose interest. They are just kids. But their lack of interest in the food translate into an interest in playing at my feet, even though, they have the whole house to run around and play in.

Pretty soon, they have dragged every toy in the house into the kitchen and I can't even walk back and froth from the island in the middle of the kitchen to the stove because the floor is covered with toys or children.

Sometimes, it is more than I can take. Especially when it is not really playing that they are doing but fighting and bickering or I have stepped on/tripped over the same toy fifty times.

This causes me stress. The kitchen is suppose to be my space. A place that I can come to to unwind, to relax and enjoy what I am cooking. But on those days, when I get dinner started late or the kids have been at each other all day and I step on a toy again, I lose it. And I am not just talking about yelling and removing the kids from the room. No, I have a full blown mommy tantrum.

I yell, scream, stomp my feet, wave my arms, pound on the counter and I throw things.

Yes, that is right. During one of my recent tantrums, I picked up that toy which I had tripped over 12 times and I threw it across the room. Do you see it? Here is a closer look.

That's right, I threw the toy across the room and it landed in the chandelier. Thank goodness it was a soft toy or my consequences might have been worse. Because now all I have to deal with was my kids, who of course saw the whole things and told me, "No, No, Mommy. Don't throw toys. You. Naughty chair, now!"

So after a good laugh, it was off to the naughty chair for me.

And yes, lesson learned.

Brothers

I suddenly noticed that the house was quiet.
My heart began to race because with a house full of kids, quiet is a sign of nothing good.

Hayden's call suddenly broke the silence.

"Mom. Mom. Get your camera. Come and take a picture of me with my brothers."

I walked into the room, camera in hand and smiled at what I saw.

How could I not capture this beautiful moment?
They were playing together so nicely.

These moment can be few and far between some days.
I must enjoy them when they come.

~A brother is a friend given by Nature.~

Jean Baptiste Legouve

The Rat Race

All, I have to say is what a week!

I didn't think it was possible to be this exhausted and I have triplets.

I really don't know how you mommies out there that work 5 days a week, do it.

Let's just say that I now have a whole new respect for you.
You ladies, totally ROCK!

I have no idea how in the world you keep up with everything.

I would get done with my classes at work, get the kids and head home, ready to put my feet up and relax. But that just didn't happen.

As soon as I entered the house, the kids needed dinner, bathes, things needed to packed and readied for the next day, the house was a mess, laundry needed to be done, groceries don't just appear in the fridge and so on.

I felt like I was constantly behind, always running to catch the next thing but never able to.

I guess that is why one morning I got out of the shower only to get back in again because I couldn't remember if I had washed my hair.
I did this three times before I just gave up.

Or one night when Jake wanted to eat frozen garlic bread for dinner, I let him.

It was one whirl wind week and I am glad it is over.

But there was a silver lining to this week.

I am not talking about the awesome friends that took things over here at my beloved blog.
I am so grateful for their help and I thought that they all did a fantastic job.

I am not talking about the fact that I learned all about and was trained for a new life saving program.
I am really excited to prefect these new skills and can't wait to use them.

No I am talking about the fact that I did not have to change one diaper, either poopy or wet, kid sized or adult sized, all week.

That's right.
I went one whole week with out having to care for someone else's bodily functions besides my own.

And that fact makes the whole week worth it.

Now for a relaxing weekend, well sorta.

Advice You Didn't Know That You Needed

For the last guest post of the week (I know that you all are just missing me terribly and on pins and needles waiting for my next original post), I give you Summer from
Le Musing of Moi.

What can I say about Summer. Well for starters, she is my go to person for all things fashion. Heck, she has helped me find things to wear. She is just so knowledgeable. All she needs is a couple pictures, a few texts and then I emerge, smokin' hot.

But what I love about Summer most is how her writings just speak to my soul. She has this ability to put into words feelings and thoughts that I have in my heart.

It is just beautiful.

******

One thing I just love about Jen, is what an amazing mom she is.

I mean, once, she even read a book to her kids. Seriously, if that isn't love, than I don't know what is....

So, if there is anyone out there worthy enough to give parenting advice, it would be her.

But, she's not here. And I am. And while parenting advice can sometimes be tricky, I am more than happy to share with you what I've learned thus far.

To those about to become a parent:
Sleep now. Because you will never know sleep like you know it at this very moment. Children have this weird way about them. They actually love life, and they look forward to waking up every morning. And so they like to do their best to beat the sun. And then they feel that they should drag you along with them. This starts immediately after birth and doesn't seem to have an end in sight, so sleep now.

To those with a newborn:
It will get better. A full nights sleep does exist...when they move out.
Breathe. Take in the moment. Inhale that sweet scent. Savor the loveliness of a non moving, non opinionated infant. Cherish it. Because time moves quickly, and they will soon turn into toddlers....and you could have missed the innocence.

To those with a toddler:
Xanax. Lexapro. Prozac. Seriously, just take whatever they offer you. You. Will. Need. It. Then add in God and lots and lots of prayer. You. Will. Need. That too!

To those with a Preschooler:
Grab a notebook. A recorder. A journal. And then write down the hilariousness that comes out of their mouths. You will never want to forget the beginning of their own well contemplated thoughts. Hug them. Teach them. Make the hard moments a chance to learn. They are about to leave you, and what you give them now, they will bring into the world...

Other bits & pieces:
This awful stage you're in that you feel like will never end? I promise you, it will. Just when you think it can get no worse and you are about to lose it, a new annoying thing will take it's place. God seems to be clever like that.

When you're eating something yummy and you don't want to share, tell your child it's your healthy food and they wouldn't like it. It works, and now I never have to share my special treats.

Rather than telling your child 'no' or 'no-no,' say 'no thank you.' You will adore it when it's repeated back to you one day.

Don't put up with tattling. Send them to a place where they sit facing each other and have them work it out themselves. My rule is, they have to stay put until the problem is solved and a hug has ended the war. This teaches them to 1) think twice about tattling, and 2) learn problem solving skills with friends. Most importantly, it allows you to get back to your TV show, book, or other extracurricular activity you do while ignoring tattling children.

Advice that matters most:
We as parents are all learning. We are all (most) doing the best we can. We are all giving and loving and parenting with what we believe is right for us and our home. We are all in this together. So we should all have grace, extend grace...receive grace. What is right for one, may not be right for another.

If you are loving the guts out of your children, then what other advice really matters?

You're already doing what matters most.

(If you can't tell, my kids have been exceptionally sweet as of late, hence the optimistic outlook on parenting in today's posts. But stay tuned...things have been known to change quickly. My Xanax is never far.)

Hater to Hardback

To continue with my week of guest poster, today's post is written by Em from Life, Liberty and the Pursuit.
Em is an awesome mother of two little boys. Her youngest was diagnosed with PKU at birth.

I just adore Em. I love the way that she brings up issues and makes me think about things with her 'Friday's Food For Thought' posts. She also educates me about what is going on in the world. I am terrible about current events and Em is fabulous about it. I know if there is something that is going on and I need to know about it, Em will bring it to me in the blogosphere.

******

Gather 'round dear Jen readers, I have a confession to make. One so grand that I fear comment repercussions on a level equal to me telling you that my almost four-year-old still occasionally uses a paci.

That's a hypothetical controversial example by the way. I would never risk the future shape of my son's teeth to guarantee a long-night's sleep for me.

Never.

Well maybe.

Anyway, you get what I'm saying. But I'm confident you're a group who will embrace my admission with empathy and an open mind, because with the following sentence, I'm taking the chance of unleashing the wrath of mommy bloggers (or moms who happen to blog) upon my soul...

I'm Team Jacob.

If you don't understand that declaration, you're part of the Twilight Uninitiated, an association I was once proud to be a charter member of - that is, until this past December. In a desperate act of trying to find some kind, any kind, of escape from the Holiday madness, I finally broke the seal on my boxed set of the first three books, compliments of the incredible ladies of SITS.

Over a year ago.

I know.

It was not from lack of absolute gratitude, believe me. I would give Heather and/or Tiffany my last bottle of wine if they requested. High sacrifice indeed. No, I was scared. Not of vampires or werewolves or over-dramatic teen angst, but that the series surely could not live up to the hype.

See, I had been burned once before, by my best friend and my mother, over the desperate need to see "Out of Africa" (Google it whippersnappers) when I was just a babe in the pop-culture-hype woods. I wasn't going to expose myself to that feeling of crushing disappointment again.

So it was with great trepidation that I cracked the spine, flipped to page one and allowed myself to be consumed - it's a short journey from eye rolling at screaming Robert Pattinson fans to being five minutes late to my much-needed, much-wanted hair appointment last week because I HAD to swing by Target to grab "Breaking Dawn." Curse you Walmart for being sold out.

And there it now sits on my bedside table - all shiny and black, white chest piece beckoning - open me, devour me, ignore the boys and laundry because of me. Be patient my precious, quiet time is coming.

Delayed gratification of the highest magnitude.

I know I'm way late to the party (typical me), and I've heard nasty rumors that this Jacob fan might be disappointed with Bella's choice. But I'm positive that, that disappointment will not extend to the magician who is Stephenie Meyer - that chick can spin a yarn - ironic really, since yarn is the last product on the planet that hasn't sold out to the marketing machine that is "Twilight."

So in the coming days, if my posts are short and not even close to being sweet, and my comment love all but dries up, forgive me - I'm off to Forks to get my teen angst on.

How NOT to Occupy Your Children

Today's post is from the blog famous, Mama Kat from
Mama Kat's Losin' It.
I have had the pleasure of meeting Mama Kat in real life and she has become not just one of my bloggy friends but a real life friend as well.

I love Mama Kat's sense of humor. She makes me laugh all the time and her compassion is a force to be hold.
I look up to her like a big sister.
And when I grow up, I want to be just like her.
She is full of great life lessons, a constant teacher.

******

What NOT to do to keep your children occupied while you spend time on the computer...ahem...from what I've heard:

-Do not respond to requests from your child by repeating the phrase "I'm not your mother" or "That sounds good why don't you ask your mom"...this will only frustrate your child and cause them to act out in a way that forces you to disrupt your "business" online.

-Do not give your four year old permission to pour her own cereal. Inevitably this will lead to more work for you than is necessary.

-Do not give your children a bucket of bird seed or rice to sift through and then leave them unattended.

-Do not assume that because you can't hear your children that they are reading quietly to themselves in a corner.

-Do not leave your child alone with a basket of folded laundry.

-Do not encourage your child to start their own blog and have them "follow" you on yours.

-Do not demand that your child clean up his mess in the playroom and than act ASTONISHED that it's still a mess ten minutes later.

-Do not eat ice cream while blogging in front of your child and explain that you're conducting a giveaway review on said ice cream which is why you MUST eat it and they must not.

-Do not distract your kids by telling them to go "find Dad and check out what he's building" when you know full well that Dad is not home....ummm...never mind...do do that...it's brilliant....but may lead to some disappointment.

And finally...

-Do not tell your child you will take them to Disneyland if they play quietly for 20 minutes and then hope they'll later forget the promise. They won't.

The One Where I Tried to Kill a Guy

Today's post is from my very oldest bloggy friend, Cristin aka Creepy from Tiptoeing Through the Tulips.

I was drawn to Cristin for her posts and stories about her son Graham who was born with Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia. Graham and Dottie (her two kids) are just so awesome and funny that when she posts, I know that I am going to get a good laugh. But Cristin also touches my heart in a way that no one can. She is a very beautiful spirit and I am so glad to know her.

I fell in love with Cristin because of her kids and trials and triumphs that they have been through but I think that our bond grew because we are both nurses. We understand each other and our chosen profession.
And we both have that wicked sense of humor that comes with our chosen profession.

******

Another ghost knocking at my brain....

Ray was only 38 when I met him. He'd been living with an illness for 6 years when it finally robbed him of the ability to move any part of his body but his head and he'd been admitted to our nursing home.

I'd been warned before I'd met him that he was a little demanding and his speech was very difficult to understand. I thought I'd be pretty demanding too if I were in his situation, and I'd always had a knack for thick accents and speech impediments so I wasn't scared.

I had no need to worry. Ray and I hit it off right away. I had no trouble understanding him and did my best to organize my day in such a way that I left myself enough time to meet his needs.

In addition to his medication schedule, his toileting schedule, his resting in bed schedule, Ray had a strict smoking schedule. At the appointed times, someone would have to take him outside and feed him a cigarette.

As a former smoker, I enjoyed being able to light his smoke for him, sneaking in a little puff for myself. I'd hold the butt in a clothespin, or pen cap, or whatever invention he came up with to make the process easier, and bring it to his mouth as he pulled. We'd chat between drags and he'd let me know when he was ready for more. He'd usually smoke two or three each session. It was a good 20 minute affair. Lots of time to talk.

We'd talk a lot about Death. He never expressed fear, just curiosity. He'd been ready for it since he was first diagnosed and told it would be game over in around 6 years.

It had been 6 years when I met him. He was getting impatient. He'd asked his doctor why he was still around. He was told that he was in such great physical shape before he got sick, that his heart and lungs were still strong and weren't ready to give in yet.

He asked me to kill him.

"Come on. Just put the pillow over my face. Nobody will know. I won't tell, promise."

He'd smirk his cute little smirk.

In all our long talks, we'd realized that we had the same depraved sense of humor. We spent a lot of time laughing. Sometimes he'd get to laughing so hard that he'd start coughing uncontrollably and it would take him some time to recover.

I made him a deal. I would try to kill him. I would try to make him die laughing.

I would tell him wildly inappropriate and unprofessional things about his fellow nursing home residents. I would swear profusely. I would tell him filthy jokes and send him funny emails.

When I had time, I'd feed him lunch. He hated the pureed food.

"What are we having today?" He'd ask.

"Green shit, white shit, and brown shit. Which do you want first?"

We'd usually watch a movie during lunch. A comedy of course. He'd laugh and spray me with what ever shit was in his mouth. Then laugh even more as I cursed him out for sliming me with his nasty spit.

On his 40th birthday I may or may not have showed up at the nursing home very late at night and popped a porno into his VCR. He may or may not have laughed so hard that he'd admitted he thought he was checking out right then and there.

I did my best, but didn't kill him.

After two years, I ended up taking a job across the building and would no longer be his nurse. I visited a few times a week and took him out for a smoke as often as I could.

In the winter of '03 I was 8 months pregnant with Graham, and it was finally time to say goodbye to Ray.

His roommate was moved to another room so Ray's family could stay with him in his final weeks. Ray lay in bed as a steady stream of family and friends came in to say goodbye.

I know Ray was hating it. The sad faces, the heartfelt, tear filled farewells.

I wanted to say goodbye, but not like that.

Luckily for me, Liz was around. Liz was a nurse's aide and she was wonderfully crazy. She loved her job and loved her residents like they were family. She worked her ass off and seemed to enjoy every minute of it.

Our dining room looked out onto the porch where Ray would smoke his cigarettes. When he was out there, we'd open the window and whisper dirty things to him.

I may or may not have served as lookout while Liz dropped her pants and pressed her bare ass against the window in Ray's face.

So when Liz asked me if I wanted to come with her to say goodbye to Ray, because she had a "plan", I agreed without hesitation.

"Just follow my lead." My only instructions.

We knocked respectfully on his door, his family knew why we were there and left to give us privacy. We approached Ray's bed where he lay, eyes open, peaceful, maybe a little smile in them still.

Liz started in a very somber tone, fitting of the situation;

"Ray... Cristin and I just wanted to come by and...."

I still had no idea...

"SHOW YOU OUR TITS!!!"

Screaming laughter ensued as our shirts flew up, stopping just under our bras.

Ray choked out whatever giggles he could muster as I walked up to him and pushed my enormous belly into his face.

He whispered, barely audible;

"Thanks."

He was gone less than a week later.

Though he died peacefully, surrounded by his family, I still wish I had killed him.

I wish he'd died laughing.

Beep.... Please Leave a Message

This week, real life is going to take me away from the blogging world. I hate that but it can't be helped. I have to go through some extra training for work and I am going to have to work 5 days with week instead of my usual two.

With all the modifications to our normal routine and the running here and there to pick up kids and bring them to different baby sitters, something is going to have to give and unfortunately that is going to have to be blogging.

But never fear, I am not going to leave my pages blank. I have contacted some of my favorite bloggy friends and begged them to write for me this week. I am SO excited to share some of my loves with you all who love me.

So the guest posting will start tomorrow but today, I actually wrote a guest post for a good bloggy friend of mine, Jaci from Ravings of a Mad Housewife. She made the move to a 'dot com' and asked some of her favorites to write for her to celebrate. I am so honored to be asked by her. She is an hysterical but real writer and I just love her blog.

So go check out my post, its about my kids finding something that they should have. Something that they called, "vibrating rockets".

A 'Scary' Movie

Last night, I did something very scary. I watched a movie on Lifetime. Now, I have nothing against the movies that are on Lifetime, its just that they are not movies that are normally my cup of tea.

But this movie, caught my attention and peaked my curiosity so I watched it. And I just need to say that this movie made me want to lock up all my children until they are 25, throw away the key and stick my head in the ground and never come up again.

The movie that I watched was "The Pregnancy Pack". This is a movie that was inspired by a true story. It takes place in a small town on the coast of Massachusetts where the rate of teen pregnancy is four times the national average. The movie showcases a group of girls ages 15 and 16 who make a pack to all get pregnant at the same time.

The thing that turned my stomach during the movie was the reactions of the parents. In stead of talking to their kids about sex and contraceptives, they were preaching a message of abstinence and then providing a daycare in the school for the teen mothers so that they still finish school.

The other thing that shocked me and confirmed that my children will be lock up were the statics.

• Three in 10 girls in the U.S. get pregnant at least once by the age of 20.
• Six in 10 teens who have had sex say that they wish they had waited.
• Half of all pregnancies in the U.S. are unplanned — about 3 million each year.
• One out of 10 children in the United States is born to a teen mother.

Source The National Campaign to Prevent Teen Pregnancy and Unplanned Pregnancy.

These facts are just sobering. And frankly, they scare the sh*t out of me. I can't help but think about my children, not only about my daughter and everything that she will have to face but also my sons. It is not just a girl issue, it affects boys too.

I wish there was some way to stop time and never let my children get any older. I don't want to have to parent teenagers. I don't want to have to deal with everything that goes along with having teenage sons and daughters.

Thankfully, I have a few years until my children become teens. But the fact is that they will grow up and they will be faced with the issue of sex, among other things.

Now like any parent, I would like my children to save themselves for marriage. I would like to them to wait until they are in a safe, committed, loving relationship to have sex. But I also know that as much as I want this to happen, it probably won't and I know this from personal experience.

So they only things that I feel that I have on my side as parent is education and communication. As difficult and uncomfortable it is going to be, I (we) am going to talk to my boys about sex. I am going to have an open and honest relationship with my daughter.

I am going to arm them with knowledge about how our bodies work. I am going to arm them with open and honest communication. I am going to arm them with morals and values. I am going to pray daily, and sometimes hourly that they will make good decisions. And I am also going to arm them with contraceptives.

Ok, that is enough about thinking of my kids as teens. They are no where near this point (Thank, God!) but I know it will be here before I know it. Its going to take years, but I will be prepared (God, help me).

This is my opinion on the this issue.
I am sure that it is different from yours.
I enjoy learning about other people's point of view and opinion.
In fact, I often learn something from listening to what others have to say.
So please, share what you think but please, don't attack me.
Let's play nice and have a great discussion.

She Makes Her Daddy Proud

Give her a couple years and I am sure she will giver her Dad a run for his money on those drums.
Then we will see who will hold the high scores.

Please Don't Listen

Like most mother's, one the things that annoys me to no end is the fact that my children don't listen to me. Ok, that is not entirely true. They do listen but it is not on a consistent basis.

Just once I would love to ask them to do something like get their coat and shoes on and then have to them do it. Or ask them to pick up the toys and have them run into the room and pick up with out me have to ask them five times which in turn frustrates me and turns my asking into yelling.

But even though, I would like my children to listen to me, there are times that I really don't want them to hear what I have to say. You know like when a bad word comes out of my mouth when I am frustrated with something or when I am annoyed with their father.

It figures that they would listen to that and that it would come back to haunt me.

Hayden: Hey, Dad. Thanks for playing this game with me. And I don't think that you are a jerk.

Jeff: *dirty look in my directions* Thanks, buddy. Has mommy been using bad words again?

Hayden: Yeah.

They always listen when I don't want them too. And somehow use it against me. Thanks for throwing me under the bus kid, see if I sneak you any of the good chocolate again.

You Need to Run!

I stood firm. I felt trapped. Davin was between me and the door. I knew that he could easily over take me, physically, but I also knew that he would not lay a hand on me as long as I held the baby.

My out stretched arm began to quiver under the weight of the gun. I was not usually the one that held the gun. I thought that it would feel more foreign in my hand than it did. There was a part of me that knew what to do with it. That part of my body, seemed to take over and willed my arm still. The baby began to stir in my arms but my out stretched arm never moved the gun from Davin's chest.

He had his hands in the air and his face still sported a puzzled look but there was something in his eyes, I didn't understand. He opened his mouth to speak but there was only a sigh that came forth. If he had spoken words, I did not or could not hear them.

Again, I heard a faint buzz in the back ground. There was a part of me that wanted to believe that it was just Mr. Ponus mowing his law like he did every week. There was a part of me that was trying so hard to hold onto the normal everyday life that we had created here.

But the weight of the gun would not let me forget that this was not normal, we were not normal, I was not normal.

"Jen," I heard Davin softly say.

I stood silent.

"Jen," he repeated again.

I did not want to take me eyes off the gun. I did not want our eyes to meet. I didn't know if I could keep my emotions in check. I was not the strong one in this relationship. I was weak. It was Davin who protected me, protected us.

"Do not speak to me." A voice said that at first I didn't recognize. "I heard you on the phone. I heard you speaking to the machines. How could you? How could you still be in contact with them and promising them our, no my daughter?" The voice hissed and then I realized that it was me speaking.

I felt like at any moment I was going to faint. I felt like at any moment fear and panic were going to over take my body and I would fall to the ground in a mushy puddle. But the rhythmic breathing of my new born baby girl seemed to give me a new found strength.

"I don't know what you are talking about." Davin said in a tone that he knew that he could not resist.

But as I looked into his eyes, I saw something odd. His eyes did not match his demeanor. His eyes were panicked and racing, they seemed to be trying to tell me something. It was like he was two people. His body and face were cool and calm, collected like the Davin that I knew but his eyes were different. But there was something in his eyes that was familiar, very familiar.

"I-I d-d-don't understand!" I shouted trying to hide the nervousness in my voice.

"Jen, what don't you understand? It is just me, Davin. I love you. I love our baby. Let's not do anything that would cause us to have to start over. We don't want to change what we have. Besides, it's lunch time, lets go eat. Here, let me take her.

He moved his arms from stretched upright to stretched outright as if ready to take the baby when I handed her over. I felt like I was suppose to hand her over, it felt like the right thing to do. I wanted to hand her over. I wanted to put the gun down and act like this never happened.

But with these words Davin's eyes seemed to race more. It was like they were trying to break me out of his voice's hypnotic trance.

I forced myself to focus. I pulled my daughter even closer to my chest. And my arm again renewed its strength in holding the gun.

"Good, Jen. Good. That's my girl." I heard Davin's voice. But as I looked at his face but his mouth was not moving. Confusion rose in my head.

"Jen, remember you have this gift. Remember, Jen. Use it to hear me. Use it to know that this man in front of you is not the real me. You need to run. Get out. RUN!"

Davin's voice echoed in my head as the Davin in front of me stood still.

"You need to leave. Now! Run! There is nothing left for you here anymore. They are coming. They are coming. They are coming. You are not safe. She is not safe."

Davin's voice seemed to be screaming at me. But still the person in front of me was unchanged.

Then everything seemed to happen without my control. I heard the gun go off. I felted my legs begin to move. I saw Davin slump over onto the bed. The walls of my house became a blur as I ran out and jumped into the car. I still held the baby to my chest as to drove the car out of our neighborhood.

I had no idea where I was going to go but something on the seat next to me caught my eye.

After minutes of driving, I could not longer control the shaking that had taken over my body. The baby noticed too and was crying. Safe distance or not, I stopped the car.

On the seat next to me was the diaper bag, a black duffel bag and an envelope. I ripped the seal and in my lap fell a bus ticket and cash. I knew that I needed to run. I knew that I was on my own. Davin was gone, taken over.

I knew that I was the only one left that could protect my daughter and keep her from the machines.

But that did nothing to silence the huge part of me that wanted to turn around and drive back to our house, back to Davin, back to our normal life.

I didn't want to change, not again.

This post is part of Writer's Workshop.
Hosted by Mama Kat.

This is a work of fiction.
You see, I like writing stories.
There is one that has been swimming around in my head
and at times it comes out.
Read the first two parts here and here.

It's Exhausting Work

...being a Princess.

But it has to be done.
And its a job she takes very seriously.

Bathroom Antics, Silly Noises and Other Random Stuff

After church one morning, we took the kids out to breakfast. Rather than eating their pancakes and syrup, the little kids decided to paint themselves with it.

Wet wipes were not going to cover it, we needed soap and water. I found the bathroom, opened the door, pushed the kids got the kids ready to wash their hands when I realized that we were not alone.

It was occupied by a man.

I only realized this when Jake walked up to the man, pointed to his pee stream and asked, "What's that, momma?"

******

I don't know what it is about Hayden but ever since he turned 5, everything he does must be done with a silly noise. He walks into the room saying, "wawawawawawa." He sits and watches TV while saying, "sqeeksqeeksqueeksqueek." He rides in the car and says, "shwashwashwashwa." I don't understand the reason behind all these noises. But I do know that they need to end!

******

It is always my goal to take a shower every day. Most days I accomplish this goal. I put a movie on for the kids and quickly take my shower. Now every once in a while, the kids will come into the bathroom but not very often because I have tried to ingrain in them that I only want to be bothered if there is blood.

One morning there were many, many interruptions. I had had it. I just wanted to be left alone for 10 minutes to take my shower. I was just about to step in when I heard Hayden running into my room, "Mom. Mom. Mom. I need you."

"Hayden," I yelled, "What is it? I just want to take a shower. Why are you bothering me? I don't see anyone bleeding."

I continued ranting and raving for another few seconds and when I finally, let Hayden get a word in he said,

"But mom, Quinn is bleeding. He fell off the chair."

And sure enough, there came a crying, bloody lipped Quinn.

******

Jake had a great love for rockets. He can make just about anything into a rocket ship. He has two rockets that he takes with him everywhere. So when we were at the mall the other day and I saw a little rocket that gave rides, I thought Jake would love it.

I fished out a couple quarters from my purse, set him in the rocket, told him he was about to go on a rocket ride, put the money in the slot and stood back to watch a great mommy moment were I just made of my kids extremely happy.

As the rocket started to move and I got a goofy grin on my face, Jake got a look of horror on his face. He began to panic and scrambled out of that rocket as fast as his little legs could carry him.

I guess he only likes the still variety of rockets.

*****

I have come to the conclusion that diapers are not my friends. I don't know if it is the amount that we use that has caused them to be angry but for some reason all of the diapers I put my children in leak. I don't know if my kids are power pee'ers or what but these diapers just don't hold things in anymore.

I guess that means its time to potty train. Either that or try and new brand of diapers. Yeah, that is what I think I will do because potty training my three 2 year olds scares me.

*****

These Random Tuesday Thoughts were brought to you by
The Un Mom

What Does a Cow Say?

Located on a road that we pass by often is a very large dairy farm with lots and lots of cows roaming around. This is a favorite place to pass by of the kids. They all love to look for the cows and once one kids sees the cows, a chorus of mooing erupts shortly after.

Well, one particular trip Jeff decided to take things a bit further. I'm not quite sure what got into him but I am thinking that possibly he was trying his out his stand up comedic skills.

"What does a cow say when he wants to get through a crowded room?"
"Mooooooove."

"What does a cow use to buy stuff?"
"Mooooooola"

"What is a cow's favorite cheese?"
"Moooooozzarella"

"What does a cow wear to get through a muddy field?"

Finally, I had to pipe in. "A cow would wear, Moooots", I said. "Mooots. Now can you please stop?"

"Nope, you are wrong," Jeff answered me with a smug grin, "A cow doesn't need to wear anything to get through a muddy field. They have hooves. Mooots, would just be silly."

Yup, that's my husband. That stand up comedian. He'll be here, well indefinitely and my sanity, well I will let you know about that.

image found on Google images