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

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.

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.

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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.

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.

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?

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.

Take Me to the Movies

Well, Jeff and I finally did it. We had a chance to have a night out. We took the kids over to my parents house and we were free. But there was just one problem, we really didn't know what we wanted to do.

We talked about going Christmas shopping but who really wants to do that and besides, it is not even close to Christmas eve. That is day that I usually do all my shopping. So that idea was out.

We talked about going out for dinner but we really didn't want to eat with all the retired people since it was only 4pm in the afternoon. So that idea was out.

Besides, I really wanted to go see a movie. I don't know what it is but there is just something about going to the theater to see a movie. I just love it. I love the size of the cups, so big you can swim in them. I love the smell of popcorn and butter. I love the chairs in the theater. I love the quiet. And I love being swindled out of my hard earned money just to sit in a chair, eat popcorn and watch a movie. Ok, so I don't really like that part but its part of the experience.

So it was set, we would go see a movie. We debated about a couple choices but our curiosity just got the better of us and we decided to see New Moon.

I am not really what you would all a Twihard. I did read all the books and I really, really enjoyed them. I liked the books so much that I did not see the first movie and I won't. I like the 'movie' that is in my head much better than anything they could put on screen.

But I was curious. I wanted to see what all the hype was about. And since Jeff, too, read all the books and was curious, we decided to go.

We went into the movie not expecting a whole lot because lets face it, a movie can never be as good as a book. And in my book, the Twilight series is awesome.

I am just going to say this, I was entertained for the most part but not really by the movie. No, it was more entertaining to listen to the guy in the row behind us snoring. He seemed to have perfect timing.

Edward told Bella that he was leaving and she was just about to protest when... SNORE!!!

Bella realizes danger is how she can see Edward and.... SNORE!!!!!

Jacob leans in to try and kiss Bella..... SNORE!!!!!

Bella is running to save Edward from the light and just as she reaches him.... SNORE!!!!!!

It was just too perfect. We had to control ourselves with the volume of our laughter as to not to annoy those around us even more.

All in all, it was a great night out. We were together and shared a laugh or five. And that is really all that matters.

But I think that our conversation as we were walking out totally sums things up.

"You know how Twilight was written for young adults, specifically young women?" Jeff said as we walked. "Well, then this movie was made for those girls too."

"Yeah, I know." I said. "It was made for them and their cougar mothers. And I guess you can call me one because there was some good stuff to look at. So I can see where someone with your 'equipment' wouldn't really enjoy the movie. I bet you were one of the only men in there."

"Well, at least me and my 'equipment' were able to stay awake unlike snorey mcsnore snore." He said as he took my hand and we continued to walk to the car.

I Think I May Have Created A Monster

When I see it come in the mail, I get all giddy with anticipation. I can't wait to get home and start paging through it. My hands sometimes shake with excitement as I try to turn each page.

Everything in there is just so pretty and takes me back to a time when life was simple. I still after all these year would like one, well not just one but the whole set.

I want an American Girl doll and everything that comes with one. Oh the hours of brushing her hair and dressing her up in all those costumes. Just the thought of it makes me happy.

I have drooled over the American Girl catalog for as long as I can remember. I remember the very first time I looked at the catalog. I looked at it so much, the ink began to wear off the pages. I plotted and planned on how to get one. I tried to save my money but this dream of mine has never came true.

But I still like to look. I still like to think about what it would be like to actually own and play with one of these dolls. And it is time that I share this joy. So this time when the catalog came to our house, I showed the this magic catalog of doll goodness to Claire.




And now the torch has been passed on and Claire now knows the joy of this wonderful catalog. Maybe she will get lucky and have a doll bestowed upon her. I promise that I will let her play with it, sometimes.

Her joy and excitement, just made me so happy. Right now, she is in love with the dogs and cats but she will learn of the dolls. All in good time.
All in good time.




Hosted by Cecily

Starbucks Speak

So it is no secret, my love for coffee. My brain doesn't start functioning until the first drop of that sweet nectar hits my stomach and is absorbed into my blood stream.

I love the taste of it. I love the smell of it. I love how a cup of coffee fits in my hand, the warmth it gives me. I love its kick and get up and go. I just love. I have written about my love before and how I was reduced to a little pile of weepy mush when Jake spilled an entire pot.

I just love coffee. Ok, so maybe my it is more than love. Maybe, I am totally and utterly addicted but you know what, I don't care. Everyone has to have at least one crutch and coffee is one of mine.

Normally, I am happy with just a cup a black coffee. Sometimes, I like it with a little Splenda because Splenda makes coffee taste even better. I don't know how its possible but it does. But every now and again, I like to go for a froo froo coffee especially during this time of year when Starbucks has its holiday specials like Pumpkin Spice Latte or the Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha.

Mmmmm.... mocha.

But since I only go into Starbucks upon occasion, I usually get all confused with how to order my drink. I don't know the lingo. What I want is a medium sized, Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha, with skim milk, not too hot, no whipped cream and only a little bit of peppermint.

And that is just how I order. But what is repeated back to me sometimes sounds like a foreign language.

Starbucks Girl: "Hi, what can I get for you?"

Me: "I would like a medium sized, Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha, with skim milk, not too hot, no whipped cream and only a little bit of peppermint, please.

SG: "So you want a Grande Peppermint White Chocolate non fat, no whip, no foam, half shot, luke-warm mocha?"

Me: "Um, yeah that."

I am never sure what I am really going to end up with in my cup but so far, it has always been what I wanted. Maybe some Starbucks speak lessons would be helpful?

Happy Eagle!

I am not one for decorating. Sure, if you have ever been to my house you will see pictures on the walls and things here and there. You could call my house decorated but that is not by any of my doing. If it was left up to me, all the walls and shelves in this house would still be bare.

My house is decorated because of my mom. She is the decorator and she is really good at it. Her friends will often call her for advice on what to do in this room or what would look good here on this wall? I keep telling her that she need to change careers and become an interior designer but she is content just helping people when they ask.

My mom is one of those people who changes the decor in their homes based on the holiday or season. Now it is not to the extreme but tastefully done. It is a change in a table cloth here and an addition of a knick knack there. I really like it. And it kind of makes sense because since you only see these things for a few months at a time, you never get sick of anything.

I have always wanted to be like this. But sadly, I am not. The decorator gene did not get passed down to me. But that doesn't mean I am not going to try, for the kids sake because they deserve, make that want, cool decorations for the holidays.

So that is why, when I saw this guy in the store I just had to take him home. I know its not much but its just a little something to make the house more festive.


Yeah, I know. I really need my mom's help. I think so too but the kids, especially Jake, loved it.


When he first saw it on the table, he ran screeching with glee, "Happy Eagle! Happy Eagle!" Yeah, I know he is a little confused on the name but he was just so infatuated with it. Well, just watch and see.



I am pretty sure that if I had not told Jake that 'Happy Eagle' needed a 'nap', it would still be in his hands crushed to an unrecognizable mush.

But you know what, that would have been fine with me because his joy and the joy of the other kids made the $3.50 that I spent more than worth it. And for their joy and giggles, I am truly thankful.

This post has been part of Writer's Workshop.
I know its not a Thanksgiving poem like the prompt asks for
but it is about something for which I am Thankful.

It's Kind of Sad it has to End

When people find out that I have triplets one of the first first questions I get besides the "Are they natural?" is "Do you watch Jon and Kate Plus 8?" I usually smile politely and say, "Well, not really" and I change the subject or the kids do something to change the subject.

But the truth is that I am or I was a viewer of the show. I found the show when I was just a couple months pregnant with Quinn, Jake and Claire. My sister actually called me on the night that their very first one hour special. From the moment that I turned the TV on, I was hooked. I was a fan. I watched their second one hour and then I became a regular viewer of the show. I watched it religiously. I fell in love with this family.

But you see the truth is at that time in my life, I needed to this show. I had no idea how I was going to handle having multiples. I had no idea how I was going to manage four kids under the age of two. I found Jon and Kate and maybe they weren't the best examples, but if they could manage double the amount I was going to have with some shred of sanity, then I thought maybe I could to.

So I watched. I learned. I saw that life with multiples wasn't such a bad thing. I saw them concur challenge after challenge together as a team and I felt like Jeff and I were going to be fine.

Then as my kids grew older and became louder, I could not watch the show any more. Because at the end of the day, I wanted to sit down in silence and the last thing I wanted to so was watch a show full of little kids running around screaming. The show was just too close to my real life so I stopped.

But I still kept tabs on it. I would watch a snip-it of an episode here and there. I read about it so ultimately, I learned of all the terrible things that were happening with them. And honestly, the whole situation is just sad.

What is really sad to me is that not that show is ending because really in my book the show can end or go on, but the real sadness is how perverted everything has become. It is just sad that they have to suffer all this hurt in public. And I yes, I know that they put themselves in this place by agreeing to do the show but I also know that they didn't sign up for all this public ridicule. Can't we show them a little compassion?

But what breaks my heart the most, is that this show will not be around any longer to give help and hope to a newly pregnant mother of multiples. Because like it or not, the show did help me and for that I will always be eternally grateful.

My heart goes out to this family and I can't imagine the hurt and pain that they are all going through. I wish them well and hope that they get the help that they need.

Super Powers of a Mommy

Did you know that as a mommy, I have super powers? Actually, I am pretty sure that it is not just me that has the super powers but all mommies.

Yeah, I know. Its really cool. We can make dinner, play a game of Candy Land, comfort a small child, do a load of laundry, put away clean dishes, color a picture and still be able to maintain some sort of sanity. If that is not super then I don't know what is.

I really do like being a mommy. It is a really fun, although extremely difficult, job. Through all the challenges, I think that you have to look for the little things to fuel those mommy super powers.

Like when Claire runs up to me after I leave the room and says, "I miss you, Mommy. I love you, too." It just melts my heart when she throws her little arms around me and squeezes my neck. Each of the kids are great a giving hugs and telling me of their love for me. It is enough to make me a big pile of Mommy mush.

It is a good things that my kids keep fueling my mommy super powers because they sure do use them a lot too. Especially, the power where I can make any hurt or owie feel better.

I never realized before I was a mom the power that my kisses would hold. I never knew that a simple kiss from me could make any owie instantly feel better. No matter how serious, all that my kids want is a kiss. For example, when Quinn bit through his lip, I applied a cold cloth and pressure to stop the bleeding but Quinn still howled a way until I had given him a kiss.

Now I know that this sounds so sweet but my kids have taken the fact that I have this 'power' and pushed it to the extreme.

What I mean by this is that at 2am I will hear Quinn cry out. He is not crying for a pacifier, a cup of milk or because he had a bad dream. No, he is cry for a kiss. Somehow he has hurt his finger and wants a Mommy kiss to make it feel better. Nothing else will quiet him down. He will cry and howl louder and louder until he is give his kiss.

Normally, I give out my kisses freely. I will give each child kiss upon kiss upon. I am glad to make them feel better. But in the middle of the night, when I am woken from a sound sleep. I have a little issue with this.

Maybe I need to share some of my super powers with him for night so he can just kiss his own finger. Then again, I think that this is not going to be the same.

Photo Credit: Hayden
I think I am going to have to teach him about timing so the next time I don't look like I am getting my nose picked.

Fight for Preemies

At 26 weeks pregnant, I was admitted into the hospital with cervical shortening. I had been on bed rest at home but with a two year old Hayden running around, I wasn't following the doctor's orders as strictly as I should have been.

So I was admitted for closer monitoring and strict bed rest. To be honest, I knew that this day was coming. They had told me at my very first high risk OB appointment that usually women who are pregnant with triplets have to go on bed rest and many of those women end up in the hospital.

But even though, I knew the day was coming, I was shock when I was actually admitted. I went in for a routine doctor's visit and after the ultrasound, the doctor sent me straight to be OB triage to be worked up for admission.

I was pretty sure that I was not going to have the babies on that day or the days to follow but suddenly being in the hospital made the fact that I was going to have premature babies really real.

But as I settled into being in the hospital for what I thought would be the remainder of my pregnancy, I pushed all those worries and fears out of my mind. I made it my number one goal to just stay pregnant as long as I possibly could.

Until one weekend when I had reached the 30 week mark, my physician said to me, "You know, you really should go and take a tour of the NICU. I don't think your babies will be coming soon but you should at least prepare yourself for what might happen."

His words took my breath away because for the past 4 weeks my goal was just staying pregnant. I had not even let myself think about having premature babies. But I also knew that carrying my triplets full term probably not possible, especially if you asked the skin on my rapidly expanding belly.

But none the less, we, no I, needed to prepare. So Jeff and I set up a time to tour the NICU.

I remember being wheeled into the NICU and immediately my mind went into nurse mode. I am an ICU nurse myself, after all. My eyes went to the monitors and my brain began to process the data. But there was a problem, all this data was wrong, the numbers were too high and some where way to low. My nursing instincts kicked in and I felt like I had to treat something.

It was like the nurse that we were with could read minds. She looked right at me and sensed my need to do something, "Remember this is the pediatric world. You work with adults. I know the numbers look wrong but that is because they are babies, not adults. Everything is fine. And now, you need to be Mom and not Nurse."

I relaxed and let my focus switch as we were taken around the NICU. We were shown different nurseries where the babies might be. We were shown different machines that they might be hooked up too. And we were also introduced to other parents.

Whenever I think about this night, there is always one parent, one Dad that sticks out in my mind. He sat in a rocking chair reading by a dimly lit monitor. His daughter was in an isolette. She was so tiny, so fragile. Her eyes were still fused shut. Her skin was so thin that I could see her blood vessel through it. And she was shaking because of the ventilator that she was on.

He told me that she had been born at 27 weeks. His wife just went into labor for no reason. It all happened so fast that his wife could not get the steroid shots to help her tiny lungs develop. They had had a rough road but as he lovingly looked down at his small, precious daughter, he said, "She is getting better. She is a fighter."

Still to this day, as I watch my two year olds run and jump around, I wonder about him and his daughter. I wonder what happened. Is she healthy now? Is she running and jumping around? I truly hope so.

Technically, Jake, Quinn and Claire were preemies being born at 34 weeks. But I never really thought of them that way. To me they seemed like normal babies, just small, Jake 5lbs 12oz, Quinn 5lbs, 9oz and Claire 4lbs 3oz. We were very blessed that even from the beginning they were just in the 'feed and grow' nursery. During their 10 day stay, that is all they had to do.

I can't even begin to image what it much have been like for that father and his wife to watch their baby struggle for her life. But it happens. Every day there are babies that are born prematurely and they begin an up hill battle for their lives.

Today is the day to raise awareness of premature births. To quote The March of Dimes, "Every year, 20 million babies are born too soon, too small and very sick ― half a million of them in the United States. November 17 is when we fight."

I am also joining Debi in this fight.

Deer Hunter

"No, Mommy, no. Too cold outside." The kids whined protests at me as I shooed them all out the door. It was cold outside but not too bad and they all had coats on.

I needed them to go outside. The morning was full of them yelling and screaming and running around the house. They were acting insane. My head was pounding and I just wanted to fold some laundry in peace and quiet.

"Come on guys, out!" I said again as I pushed them out on the porch.

Once they were all outside and playing happily, Quinn and Claire were on the swings, Jake was pushing a truck through the grass and Hayden was throwing dirt at the house. He was the one that was least pleased with my idea for play outside.

I did one last check to make sure that they were all where they were suppose to be and I went into the house to fold the laundry. I was such a joy to walk into that quiet. I could almost hear the house sighing with me as I let the silence wrap around me.

As I began folding, I heard the kids playing outside. I had left the front door open just for that purpose. Since I was in the dinning room which is in the front of the house, I can not only see the kids playing but I can also hear them. Its beautiful.

After a few minutes of playing, one of the kids called for me. I walk outside and as I did I see something really, really strange. I noticed a pickup truck slowly, I mean very, very slowly, driving up our street.

We live on a private drive where during the day it is pretty much deserted. So seeing a truck on the road was usual but the speed of the truck was really, really weird. In fact, it sent chills up my neck and totally put me on red alert.

I watched the truck as it appeared to watch my kids. I wondered what I should do? I actually had my phone in my hand. The speed of the truck was just so odd. It screamed to me that something about this was wrong. Then the truck actually pulled into my driveway and stopped.

I had decided that this truck had a pervert in it and he was after my kids. As the truck door open, I readied my finger to dial 911. It was my plan to call the cops and then run after him with the toy shovel which was on the ground next to me and beat him until the cops came.

That was my plan until the man got out of the truck and said, "Hey, Jen."

What? I was so shocked that this man knew my name, I was frozen. And I am pretty sure that I stood there with my mouth hanging wide open.

"Hey, Jen," he said again, "It's Chad, you know from the bus stop."

Slowly the fact that I really did know this man sunk in but I was still suspicious. I wanted to know what in the world he was doing driving so slowly up the street seemly staring at my kids.

"Did you happen to see a deer come this way? He asked as he walked up the yard.

By now the kids were curious and had come up to the front of the house. To me this was good and bad, since the kids were closer to me I could easily get them into the house but I also didn't like this also meant they were closer to him.

Then he asked again, "Did you see a deer come up this way?"

I shook my head no. What in the world was going on here? This was such a strange question to me. I was really was beginning to wonder what was up with this guy. This whole situation was making me very uncomfortable. Every hair on my body was standing on end.

"See, I was out hunting this morning," he continued, "And I shot a beautiful buck but I only wounded him. I tried to get up to him to go in for the kill but he ran off. I thought that he may have run over here."

I just looked at him, dumbfounded. When I finally able to form a sentence, I said "No. I didn't seen any deer and I didn't hear anything either."

"Well, you wouldn't have heard a gun shot because I was working with my bow and arrows," he educated me.

"Oh," was all I was able to grunt out.

He smile at me and said, "I am going to look around here a little more and then get my mother in law. She loves to track. We'll find that deer. But if you see it, will you let me know?"

"Um, sure" I said but what I wanted to say was, "Um, yeah, I won't need to tell you that I have seen a wounded, bleeding deer in my yard because you will have heard my screams and those of my kids all through the neighborhood. Now get your freaky ass out of my yard!"

The Smile Maker 2000

Have you even been in this situation?

You have your camera ready and aimed.
You are just about to push the button when your subject looks away.

Your mission is simple, you just want to get a picture of your child looking and smiling at the camera.
But instead of a smile, they are wearing a huge frown or better yet, they refuse to look at the camera all together.

Yes, we have all been in this situation.
It is frustrating.
It is maddening.
It makes you want to yell and scream.
Because when it come to cooperating with the camera, children are just not willing.

Until now....

I want to introduce you to a product that is going to change the way you take pictures.
Never again will you be at the mercy of your children.

The Smile Maker 2000 is going to change all that.
It is really a simple device but the results will amaze you.

This is how it works.
When you want to take a picture of your child, place their little sweet face in the device.
And as you push the button to take the picture, the device goes into action by not only holding your child still but also making them smile.

So your mission of a great photo of you children with a smile on their face is now complete.
I believe the results, really speak for themselves.

You might expect to pay hundreds and hundreds of dollars for this device
but that is just not the case.

You can have beautiful, smiling pictures of your children for just three easy payments of $29.99.
That is price is nothing compared to the joy and pride you will get from looking at these photos for years to come.

Contact me and lets make your children smile together.



Just in case you didn't get it, this post is all in fun.
The 'smile marker 2000' is really just my husband's hand.
So technically, you already have a smile maker.
But if you want to send we three payments of $29.99, who am I to say no.
Again, I am kidding. Don't send me anything. Unless, you really, really want too.