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.

*****

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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

Cat People

“Cats always know whether people like or dislike them. They do not always care enough to do anything about it.”

~Winifred Carriere

We Need to Talk

Warning: Female subject matter. Guys, you may want to talk amongst yourselves.

Dear Body,

We need to have a talk. Yes, I know that we have many issues that we need to work on but the one that I am talking about has just started recently.

What I am talking about it my monthly friend. My visit from Aunt Flo. My period, if you will.

Yes, yes I know that it is normal for a woman to have this monthly visit. You are suppose to have this visit. But we are talking about me here. I have never had a monthly visit. Sure, Aunt Flo would stop by once and a great while, sometimes it seemed as if she would never leave but she never came consistently.

That is why when it came time for my to try and have babies, I had to go through all those lovely treatments. You remember those treatments, don't you? All the hormones? All the shots? And don't even get me started on all the vaginal ultrasounds.

Yeah, yes. I knew that you remembered.

So why am I bring this up?

Well, I need to ask you a question.

How come almost three years after I have birthed my last baby(s) have you decided that it would be alright for me to get my period? And not just any period but a regular, consistent period with full blown PMS with cramps so bad that if I didn't know better I would think I was in labor. And the moodiness, good lord. I am pretty sure that I put Dr Jekyll and Mr Hide to shame.

Why now? Why not before so that I could have saved myself from all the heartache and stress of those treatment?

You see, there really is no need for this. There will be no more babies coming from me. Remember, those tubes, my tubes, have been tied, cut and burned. I am no longer in the baby making business. Trust me. Done.

So if you would like to just turn off whatever switch that you turn on to make the period flow, I would really, really appreciate it. I am fine with no consistent monthly visit. I don't really need many more years of this. I am done.

Love, Me.

The Ache of My Arms

Quinn has this habit of waking up in the night because something hurts. It is usually some random body part and all he wants is a kiss from mommy. Then he is good to go back to sleep.

I know it sounds sweet and I should feel special that I have this kind of power but at 2AM, I am not feeling very special about anything.

I have tried to just let him cry but his cries get louder and louder until he is screaming at the top of his lungs. This wakes up Jake and Claire and then I have to get up and deal with them all.

So even though I would like to just bury my head in my pillows and ignore him, I get up and go give him the kiss that he so desperately wants.

This situation happened the other night, only my kisses were not working. Quinn was acting differently than he usually was when he woke up for a kiss. He was just thrashing around, crying. He appeared not to be awake. It was like he was having a bad dream.

I picked him up, trying to calm him. I tried to wake him but nothing was working. Then without even thinking, my instincts kicked in and instead of holding Quinn up right over my shoulder, I switched his position to being cradled in my arms like I did when he was a baby.

As soon as his head hit the nook of my elbow, the restlessness and crying stopped. It was like all the bad images or whatever was upsetting him just melted away. It was as if his body remembered that this was a safe place. A place that he had been held in many times before.

I stood there, rocking, in his room, with his siblings sleeping around me and I was transported back to a time about two years ago but a time that now feels like a life time ago.

I looked down at my 2 year old Quinn, who now barely fit into my arms, and vivid memories came back to me of rocking him as a tiny baby. Just me in the room rocking my baby by the light of the moon.

Then a small ache came over my arms. But it wasn't an ache from the weight of Quinn's body. No, it was an ache for Quinn as a tiny baby.

I recently realized that Jake, Quinn and Claire are the age that Hayden was when they were born. Hayden was 2 and half years old when we brought three babies into our lives. But now that Jake, Quinn and Claire are this age, there will be no more babies brought into this house.

But that is alright and I am really fine with this. The farther we get away from all the baby stuff the easier it gets but that still doesn't mean that I don't ache to cuddle a small baby once again.

Not just any baby, mind you. I ache to cuddle and hold my own babies once again. But this will never happen unless time travel is invented and perfected.

So until then, I will be happy with cuddling and rocking my 2 year olds, even if I have to wake up in the middle of the night to do it.

If I Wanted to Humiliate Myself, I Would Have Joined a Gym

I know that right now, everyone is all about fitness and getting healthy. It is the new year and this happens every new year. I really don't understand this but it seems to happen every year so there must be something to it.

This year Jeff has got on this bandwagon. He decided that we needed to have Wii Fit. I was a bit surprised by this purchase but I shouldn't have been. It is a video game after all and Jeff is all about video games. Plus there is a slight possibility that this game can be used to exhaust Hayden by wearing off some of this never ending energy and is awesome.

But I wasn't 100% sold on this purchase. I really wasn't sure what Jeff meant when he said that he got this game for all of us, especially me. I didn't think that exercise equipment/games are on the approved list of things to buy your wife. I mean, how could I not read into this gift? Was he calling me fat?

But I watched Jeff set up his Mii, go through all the body trails and even watched him play a couple of games. I was impressed and it looked like fun so I decided what the hell, what do I have to loose but a few pounds? (Sorry, I know bad joke but I couldn't resist.)

So I stepped up and set up a Mii for myself. And here is where the problems begin. I have a few bones to pick with Wii Fit and I can tell you right now that we are going to have a love hate relationship.

First, why is it that when you start out you get to see your Mii as a small skinny little person and then once all the numbers are in and it calculates your BMI you Mii balloons up to what you look like at that BMI? Now that is just an unfair tease. I know what I look like, a quick walk by one of the mirrors in my house will tell me this. I don't really want to watch my fat ass Mii workout. If I wanted that, I would go to a gym, join and aerobics class with mirrors line up along the front and jump around myself. It is not pretty, I try and avoid it. So why should my Mii do it?

Second, Wii Fit calculates your fitness/body age. Again, I don't really need to be told how my body is older than I actually am. I am 30 years old but on any given day of the week I don't feel 30. I feel more like 70 or 80. But I try to live in sweet denial about this. So it doesn't help to my body age is flashed at me on the TV screen in huge letters and my son tells me, "Wow, mom you are old."

Lastly, Wii Fit is all about balance. Me, well, I am not all about balance. Let's just say that I am clumsy as they come and this might be the reason that I have sprained my ankle six times. So it shouldn't it shouldn't have been a surprise when after one of the many balance tests Wii Fit asked me, "Mmmm, do you tend to trip over things and fall down a lot?" Yes, its true but I was still insulted.

So needless to say that Wii Fit and I did not get off on the right foot. I am assuming that these tests and 'fun' comments are suppose to be inspiring and give you the needed kick in the pants to get moving. But all it made this emotional eater do was grab a pint of Ben and Jerry's, sit on the couch and eat.

Bed

After a long hard day, there is nothing like crawling into bed.

I pull the cover back and slide in and instantly, I feel my body relax. It is like every muscle in my body has just left out a huge sigh of relief, Ahhhhh, my head snuggles in my pillow, I pull the covers up to my chin, ready for sleep to take me away.

Usually, after I get myself settled with all my pillows tucked around me just right, I fall right to sleep. Off to dreamland. It is a beautiful thing. Sweet, beautiful sleep.

But lately, this has not been the case. Jeff has been sleeping very fitfully. I get into bed, ready to settle down and I am met with this.

Bad breath blowing in my face.
Picking at my side.
Kicking me out of bed.
Yelling at me in his sleep.

It is not very conducive with sleep. And then there are the kids. At least once a night someone comes into my room.

"Mommy, I'm scared."
"Mommy, want milk."
"Mommy, sleep with you?"
Mommy, Mommy, Mommy.

I just have one question? What ever happened to Daddy? He is right next to me, does he not exists at night?

I love my bed. I am very thankful for my bed. I want to spend time in my bed. I want to sleep in my bed. Alone.

Why don't these people understand this?

Why can't they just stay away and let me sleep?

The Girl Can Talk

I had always heard the about the stereotype that girls like to talk. Personally, I don't really fit into this so I have not ever really given it much thought until Claire came into my life and learned how to talk.

Claire likes, no loves to talk. Jeff and I have come to the conclusion that she has a word quota that she needs to meet each and every day. And this quota is high, like thousands and thousands and thousands of words must be spoken by her each and every day.

And it just so happens that this quota increases when we are in the car. I think that she thinks that in the car everyone has to listen to her so steps up her game.

On a recent car ride to my parent's house which is about 30 minutes, she rambled on continuously. At times, I wondered if she would pass out because I didn't really know how or when she was breathing. It was just continuous word vomit that never ended.

At times, she seemed to be talking about something happening in our lives and other times she just talked about things she saw outside the car or just said the first thing that came to her mind. The only thing that was consistent about these statements was that she said them all and she started them all the same way.

"Cause someday is is is sing at nonna and papa house."

"Cause someday is is is fire engine hurt my ears and scare me. Rrrrgh"

"Cause someday is is is middle truck big."

"Cause someday is is is new shoes as a present from Santa."

"Cause someday is is is new car for Daddy."

"Cause someday is is is car has snow on it."

"Cause someday is is is talk from Hayden, Jake and Quinn."

"Cause someday is is is seven eight seven eight seven eight."

"Cause someday is is is has kitty say meow meow."

"Cause someday is is is doctor make my cheek feel better."

"Cause someday is is is mommy set on hammer."

"Cause someday is is is snowman need medicine in eyes and nose."

"Cause someday is is is see snake out window and scare me but frog ribit away."

"Cause someday is is is daddy me sing song."

"Cause someday is is is daddy time to shut er mouth."

It was so cute to listen to her talk but I began to wonder about something. If this is what she is like at 2 years old, what is she going to be like at 16? One things for sure, she is totally going to need the unlimited minute plan for her cell phone.

Bubbles can be Dangerous

... so tread lightly and always carry protection.

"Stop! Or I'll shoot."

Neighbors

As I walked to my car after work last night, I checked my phone for my email and any voice messages that I had received during the day. I have to be careful doing this because often times I get lost in my messages and either walk past my car and end up in some random place in the parking garage or I walk into walls. But that is a whole other story.

On this night, while looking through my phone, I noticed that I have a voice message from a number that I did not recognize. I dialed into my mailbox and listened.

The caller was one of my neighbors. And she was calling to tell me about a complaint that she had with the car parked in front of our house. She went on and on about how the weather conditions were just horrible today (which they were, we got 4 inches of snow in about 2 hours) and since our road is so hilly and narrow it is not safe or right for us to park a car on the road in the front of our house. She repeatedly said that we needed to move it. It was dangerous and so on. Then she ended the message with something that really just rubbed me the wrong way. She said this time she was just making a friendly phone call.

This time!? This time!? What the hell is that suppose to mean?

The whole message just annoyed me. Its not like we consistently have a car parked out in the road. We do our best to keep the cars in our driveway but sometimes it is not possible to make it up the hill into the driveway, especially in bad weather.

I spewed and sputtered about this to myself most of my drive home. I decided that even though this lady was a big meanie, the best thing to do was to give her a call and try and make peace.

But I really wanted to call her and give her a big piece of my mind. But as the saying goes, you capture more flies with honey than vinegar.

So I would apologize. I would tell her that we would try and not let this happen again. I would tell her that is was actually our babysitter's car out there and that we would tell her how she should park. I would use all my people skills and smooth out all her ruffled feathers.

I would be the bigger person.

And I was.

In fact, I was such a big person that I had Jeff make the call.

Read to Me.... Not!

I have a confession to make.

It is not something that I am proud of but I think that I have to put it out there.

Please don't hate me, hiss or boo at me. I feel that this place is a safe place where I can be loved and excepted.

Ok *big sigh* Here is goes. I am just going to say it, you know like this was an AA meeting or something.

*stands up*

Hi, my name is Jen and I am a mommy that doesn't read to her kids.

*whew*

There I said. Man, that is like a weight has been lifted. I feel so much better. But I also feel that I need to explain myself.

Alright, so the truth is that I don't read to my kids often. Its not like I out right refuse to read to them but it is something that I really don't enjoy. But I used to.

When Hayden was little I used to read to him all the time. It was something that I really enjoyed doing. We would sit and look at books together for hours, well not hours but many, many minutes. He especially liked the flip books. We would open each flap and talk about what was under each one. It was really fun.

Well, the little kids, Jake, Quinn and Claire, really like these kinds of books too. And I like to read and share these books with them but there is one problem. I have one lap and there are three of them.

Things usually start out really well. One of them will be in my lap and the other two will be on each of my sides. We begin reading and talking about the pictures when one of the kids sees something that they especially like and want to get a closer look at. That onne gets really excited and begins to push at the person in my lap which is then interpreted as a threat, meaning that they are being challenged for the place in my lap. The shoving begins, then the hitting, which usually includes me getting hit in the nose, and lastly the screaming match over who's mommy I am.

"MY MOMMY!"

"NO, MY MOMMY!"

"MY MOMMY!"

"NO, MY MOMMY!!"

"MY MOMMY!"

"NO, MY MOMMY!!!"

Well, you get the picture. And this all ends with me getting so irritated that I push the kids off my lap and leave.

I am really hoping that this is just a phase and they will grow out of it because I would like to read to them, really I would but not if they keep choosing this one book for me to read.

This is my second reason that I don't like to read to my kids.

Every.single.time I say to them, "Hey guys, do you want to read a book?" It never fails that they will find this book and bring it to me. They just love it but I can't stand it and if I have to read it one more time, I am not sure what I will do.

I have tried to hide this book. I have tried to give it away and I have even tried to throw it was but each and every time my efforts have failed. I don't know how they do it. There must be some kind of alarm or censor on the book that alerts them to what I am try to do.

What is this book that I speak of? Well it is 'Night-Night, Baby' a touch and feel book.

Seriously, its not even a story book. It is just a book that lists all the things that babies do before bed.
"Time for dinner!"
"Can you feel the bib on the baby?"

"Bath time is with a rubber ducky to play with"
"It's so shiny."

"The bath is over."
"Now we get dry!"
"Feel how fluffy the bathmat is." and so on.

Each picture, which I am pretty sure is older than me, has a texture to it that they can feel so maybe that's why they like it. But I just don't get it and I think that they babies in it are kind of creepy looking. I am pretty sure that I saw one of the babies move its eyes to watch me.

*shudder*

So there now you all know my dirty little secret. I am not proud of it but this is the way its has to be, right now. I am just thankful for daycare and school because I know that they are reading to them and nurturing their little minds. Because I am not, well at least in this area.

This post was brought to you by Writer's Workshop.
Need something to write about, head over and pick a prompt.

Smile Pretty

She was playing so nicely in the pretend garden.
Picking the flowers and then planting them again.

She was so cute sharing the flowers with me and her brothers.
I just had to take a picture of her and her flowers.

I asked if I could take her picture.
"Come here and smile pretty," I said.

And she totally did.
Or at least, she tried.

Not really the smile that I had in mind.
But that will do.



Wordful Wednesday is Hosted by

Just Don't Laugh

I am a nurse. I have been for some time and I love my profession. I really, really do. As a nurse, it is my job to take care of people and a lot of times that means taking care of people's private parts. I often have clean it, put tubes in it and just examine it if it is not functioning correctly.

It has been my experience that women have no issue with this. It is just par for the course, maybe it has something to do with child birth, who knows.

Now men on the other hand, men have a HUGE issue with this. They get all silly and begin to act like little children. They whine and cry when I go near it or start to giggle when I talk about their penis.

It is really no big deal to me. A penis is a penis is a penis. I have seen more penis' than a stripper in Las Vegas ever will. It is just another part of the body like an arm or toe. I am a professional after all.

Even with that in mind, men just don't handle this well, especially the older men. They seem to forget that I am a professional and I am not there to judge, rate or compare their penis. It is not like I am going to take one look at it and then run and go tell my friends about it. It really is not that interesting, trust me.

But no matter how I conduct myself, there always has to be the comment. Most men must make a comment about it.

For example:

"Sorry its so small."

"It used to not look like that, back in the day it was an outstanding specimen."

"Please don't laugh."

"Don't worry, my equipment hasn't worked right in years."

"Bet you have not ever seen one like this before."

"I don't even know if I know where to find it."

"Its been some time since a women was around those parts."

Now, sure these comments are funny but think about how they are said to me. They are said when I have my hand on or around a penis. It is not a comfortable position to be in the first place and these comments don't help.

Sometimes I think that men make these comments as a joke, to lighten the tension but all it does is create more tension and make an award experience more award.

Besides, whatever they say, I am not going to respond. I just keep my eyes down and continue working. Its not like I am going to bust out with, "Don't worry you're not really all that small. The guy in room 12, now he's got a small penis. And the guy in room 21 is hung like a horse."

I would never say those things in front of a patient. I am going to save those comments for the break room where we sit around and compare all the penis' that we have seen.

Because we have nothing better to talk about.

Mind of a Mother

I distinctly remember as a kid growing up that when my mom would ask me a question, she would ask it like 12 times before she actually heard the answer. I would get so annoyed by her asking me the same thing again and again and again. Usually by the third or forth time she asked me, I would go up to her, grab her face and make her listen to me.

I hated that she did this. I just didn't understand why she didn't listen to the answer. When I questioned her about this, she used to always say that it was because that she has moved onto the next thing. I never understood her answer. How could she have moved onto the next thing when she didn't even have my answer?

This used to puzzle and annoy me. I just didn't understand what she meant and why she would always do this.

Until now.

Now, I totally get it. I know exactly why she never heard my answer. It probably has something to do with the way the mind of a mother works.

I walked over to give Jake is breakfast and I asked him if he wants a banana. I turned around and walked back to get him that banana, without hearing the answer as to if he really does, when I saw the laundry room and remembered the loads in the washer and dryer. I walked in the room, and saw the mail that needed to be put away in the kitchen. I walked the mail to the kitchen, saw Jake and asked him if he wanted a banana. I walked to get the banana and saw that the coffee was not made. I went and made the coffee, when I remembered that I did not bring down the milk cups the kids had from last night. As I came downstairs, I saw Jake and asked if he wanted a banana then I saw the dirty towels on the counter and I remember about the laundry waiting for me. As I walked to the laundry room, I saw the computer and wanted to check my email. While reading my email, I smelled the coffee and as I went to pour a cup, I saw the towels. I went to the laundry room to switched loads and took the dry one to spread out on my bed to be folded. I walked back to the kitchen and tripped over a couple toys and thought about how I really need to organize the toys. The I heard Jake talking away while eating his breakfast and I realized I didn't know if he actually wanted a banana or not.

Then it hit me, I was just like my mom. I had asked Jake a question but I never took the time to actually listen to the answer. Jake didn't care but it annoyed me. So I stopped asked my question and actually listened to his answer.

Well, I tried to listen to the answer. But if you have ever talked to a 2 year old, you know they are not the quickest people. But I willed myself to stay focused even though, I heard the buzz of the dryer, the ding of a new email and I heard a child playing in the toilet.

Hangover

This is what I imagine what toddlers would look like if they went out partying at night.

Now, that's what I call a hangover.

Right Now

Well, it is now a new month and a new year. It really doesn't feel any different to me. Yesterday, was really nothing special and today is just another day.

We didn't stay up late to watch the ball drop.
We didn't go to a fancy party and share a kiss at midnight.
The kids went to bed at normal time and Jeff and I went to bed early.
But you know what, that is fine.
It is just where we are in life right now.

Someday, we will be able to stay out late and go to a swanky party but right now is not our time. Our time right now is here.

Right now is our time for coloring pictures and playing ball.
Right now is our time for building forts and playing with baby dolls.
Right now is our time for having poppy diapers smeared all over our couch.
Right now is the time to take a walk.
Right now is the time for us to have a five year old who started kindergarten and to have three 2 year olds.
Right now is the time for us to just enjoy our children and have fun as a family.
Right now it is time to just be a mommy and a daddy.

I don't know what the next year will bring or what the next decade has in store for us. But you know what, where ever it takes us is really fine with me. I have hopes and dreams for the years to come but if they don't all come to be, that is fine too.

As long as we are together as a family, then nothing else really matters. My family is the key to my happiness (and craziness) and that is all I will ever need.

This is an old picture of us but it was the first one taken of us as a family of six.
Therefore, it will always be my favorite family photo.

Happy New Year!