Seven, count 'em, SEVEN candles!

My birthday boy (and his chocolate truffle birthday cake...guess who picked that out!)
All in one breath!

Mmmm! Tasty!

Feeling Yummy?

I asked, practically begged , Mother Talk to review this book. I am hoping to soon start "studying" under a friend of mine who is a doula and to take some classes to start me in that direction as well as to be come a lactation consultant. This doesn't come as news to anyone who has read here for very long at all. I've talked of it often. In addition, I am really interested in becoming certified to teach family life education classes - parenting, child development, etc.

I thought that Anna Johnson's The Yummy Mummy Manifesto would make an excellent addition to my library for new moms. It's quirky, it's fun. This is no What to Expect... book by any means. Unless, of course, it's maybe What to Expect when Carrie Bradshaw is Expecting. Written by the Fug Girls.

I'll be honest. I cannot see myself as a "Yummy Mummy." But I can use what Anna Johnson has to say as a starting place to finding my way out of the frump that I sometimes find myself in. Oh, come on, you've been there, too. We wear our uniforms - jeans and a t-shirt, and our hair "styles," my current fave is the "two days unwashed with a bandana tying it up" style. You know, just like Katie Holmes and J Lo. Heh. Is this how I WANT to look? No, but most days, it's as good as it gets. Johnson encourages moms to forgo the "uniform" and indulge yourself with sexy accessories, soft textures, etc. She also points out that if you MUST wear a t-shirt that crew necks are flattering to very few women. I haven't put this to the test yet, but I have found myself wearing more v-necks and button down shirts, so there is that.

Her chapters directed toward pregnant women are unlike any I've ever seen. Her chapter "Confessions if the Horny Pear" is well, just what you think it is. I can't say that this is a phenomenon I ever experienced. Once I was past the puking stage, I felt big as a house and not sexual at all. But I have had friends who were very, um, amorous, during pregnancy and thought that it was weird. Evidently, it's not. And the author encourages moms to indulge that desire! And I'm all for it. (But if you aren't feeling this way, do not, whatever you do, let your husband read this chapter. You'll never hear the end of it.)

She has a section on the pregnant bride - "The Bride Wore Stretch Lace." And a fantastic chapter on baby names. (Her son's name is Marcello. How awesome is THAT?!) As well as the obligatory chapters on what to eat, what to take to the hospital, actual childbirth and breastfeeding. Though, all of these chapters have a certain edge and candor to them that set the book apart from all others.

As I mentioned, she talks a great deal about mommy fashion. And I find some of her advice a little far fetched for those of us not living in Manhattan, LA or other trendy, major metropolitan areas. Yes, of course, wearing a cute, short skirt with a low cut blouse and push-up bra can do wonders for your self esteem. But in most of the little military towns where I have lived most of my married life, I would feel like I was headed to a costume party. (Okay, I will admit that in the past year, I have become a huge fan of the push-up bra. Mostly because when you have as little up front as I do, a little padding & pushing up does wonders for your self confidence). What I HAVE chosen to do is use this as a starting place to evaluate myself before I leave the house. Am I just "getting by?" Or am I looking the best that I can, appropriate to the situation? Because the stained t-shirt and sweats are doing nothing for me. Short of evoking pity.

But all in all? This book is brilliant. She discusses candidly and logically(!) key mommy sore-points such as house keeping, fighting with your spouse, dealing with the day-to-day drudgery that is parenting, finances...you name it. Just reading the table of contents will make you giggle:Morning Sick in Manolos: Finding your feet & holding your ground; Breastfeeding: Going with the flow; Crafts: For Women Who Hate Them; How Old is a Young Mother? The knees are going but the rebellion carries on. Okay, I won't give them all to you. Go get this book for yourself. Even if (like me) your youngest is five. Because what you read might change your life. Or at least make you smile.

originations peltately

I almost NEVER open my spam messages. As I have said before, I have no interest in purchasing anything, work for, or receive an education from anyone who sends out the same email to eleventy gazillion people at a time. HOWEVER soemetimes the weird "Bot" messages that come through just pique my curiosity, only for the WILD word choices. Especially in the title.

Today, this one cracked me out. Maybe comtemplating Bug's last day of school is more than I could handle & I'm just slap happy now. Who knows....



From:armore Draggett


to me


re:originations peltately


God dag,

My photo attachhed! <------ there was a photo attachment but I'm not so foolish as to DOWNLOAD anything from a spammer.


Look what I do!!!


You can too <------- This was a link. No freakin way I'm following that.

And these he suppresses insomuch that the servant and stones of lapis lazuli. Grasping that fierce animal life in all its forms, human existence, and cowards on the other. That
is it, sir nothing visible effort, as if the table had tried to hold tadousac and quebec, and every one has recognized there is a cry overhead and the figure of madeleine epist. ii. 1, 50. Simul ut: rare in cic., see may be obtained from friends.499 in consequence of the campaign, in which he had politely dubbed lying about, with arrows of golden wings scattered mancipation becomes his and in consequence thereof foremost of regenerate persons, filled with wrath, centre of the semicircle bounding my view, and of barbed wire, overturned carts, broken branches.

It's like poetry right? So romantic. ...."scattered emancipation......regenerate persons filled with wrath." It's enough to make you cry, isn't it?

Pomp & Extenuating Circumstances

This year, I did a wacky thing, I put Bug into two different preschools. I decided that after my whole single-parenting experiment last year, I needed for Bug to be in school every day. We had a little too much one-on-one time.

I work at our church's Mother's Day Out on Thursdays and Bug went to preschool there last year Tuesday/Thursday. Since I work there, I get discounted tuition for Bug - $45 a month. 9:30 - 2:30. Can't pass that up! But....it's only two days a week.

So, I got him into a preschool that is just down the street from our house. MWF 9-2. YAY! That pretty much freed up my week. In theory. Except that having more time in your week is sorta like having more storage in your house. It always gets filled up. ALWAYS. But at least I was able to do all that stuff sans kids. (Okay, so maybe a good chunk of that time was taken up by NAPS some weeksdays. Do I make YOU justify YOUR time?)

IS there a point to all of this?

Um, yes.

See, two preschools = two preschool graduations.

Preschool graduations are something that I have a tough time justifying. They are TOTALLY for the parents. Sorta like, "We'd better get our money's worth out of this preschool. HEY! A diploma!" The kids have no idea why they are wearing the funny cap & gown. (One little boy in Bug's class had a COW over wearing a gown. Only girls wear gowns, he told us.) They stand up there and sing their cute little songs, we watch a slide show, we cry, the kids walk up onto the "stage" and get their diploma and then we get cake. Really, it's all about the cake.

Let me just say that I am SO glad that they don't make the whole high school and college graduates sing at their ceremonies. Can you imagine?! What would they sing? No, don't answer that.

SD swears that he remembers his preschool graduation. I don't. I'm not certain I even went to preschool. I'll have to ask Gram about that.

Tonight, we went to the first graduation. Bug was, predictably, adorable. He did some little class clown thing on the stage while they were singing. He's lucky he's cute. Then? CAKE! And? More cake!! Then we had to get them home and to bed. Which is so easy when they are all sugared up on cake. But to sleep they must go because tomorrow....

Graduation #2!

At least it's in the morning. 9:30 in the morning. And then? The after-party! Yes, you read that right. A graduation after party. For preschoolers. That's madness, right? What are they going to do? Slam Capri Suns? Do Jello Shots? With ACTUAL JELLO? I don't really worry too much about make out sessions - you know since girls are gross and all.

Anyway, I'm sure I'll have an interesting update with pictures. Since I really can't seem to come up with a good enough excuse to get out of it. And keep an eye on Twitter. I'm sure I'll have plenty of snark to share!

He keeps saying, "It's My Birthday!!"

This is what a five year old looks like.

Then again, so is this....

Happy Birthday, my Buggy Boy!

TMI doesn't even BEGIN to describe this post.

So, I had a realization the other day. A horribly embarrassing realization. About a trip to Target. And my period. (Really this is so TMI, I am truly horrified. Yet, I feel compelled to share. And it's too long to put on Twitter, dammit)

I am terrible at remembering when my period is due. SD can tell with uncanny accuracy. As can my children, most likely. I have too many other things to think about. Like ears, bathroom antics and whether or not I have a legitimate mental illness** (as opposed to an illegitimate mental illness)(you, in the back there, hush). I sometimes find myself wondering if, perhaps, I should be on the lookout for Aunt Flo.

Heh.

Looking back, I see that it couldn't have been more obvious. I was at Target walking around, seeking great deals (as you do). By the time I checked out, I placed on the conveyor belt: one bag of Jamaican Jerk potato chips, one bag of Wasabi Mustard potato chips, one bag of Salt & Vinegar potato chips (yes, really), one bag of Sweet & Salty Snack Mix, a box of Dove dark chocolate Promises, THREE tins of Wasabi & Soy roasted almonds, a Hersheys Extra-Dark chocolate bar, two 4-packs of Blood Orange Italian Soda, eight cans of Pomegranate Soda, and (wait for it) TWO BOXES of....tampons. <------all entirely true - I can provide a receipt if necessary. And I had the nerve to be SURPRISED when I got my period a few days later!

Can you imagine the poor kid checking me out?! I practically had a neon sign atop my head that flashed "PMS." I'm not sure, but looking back, I think I may have heard a security alert issued about a "possibly unstable woman entering the parking lot....stay out of her way AT ALL COSTS!!"

But I'm feeling much better now.

**I think that this post should settle that question once and for all.

It's a Party! Wanna Come?

The boys' birthdays are only ten days apart. In the past we have had their birthday parties together and it worked out well. Last year, though we did Bug's party at the Big Rat Pizza place - on a Tuesday morning...the only time I will go there - but it was while the other two were in school. Bear was less than pleased because he ended up having no birthday party, save family. So this year, they wanted to do their party together. at a park. Unfortunately, both of the city parks that THEY wanted were booked already. I got another park, but they don't want that one. SO, we are having the party HERE. at MY HOUSE. A situation I am (as a rule) morally opposed to.

HOWEVER, the deciding factor is that it IS the end of May and usually end of May = ungodly HOT. My house? Has a/c. The park pavilion? Not so much. So, I figure, give 'em all water guns and water balloons and lock them outside. INSIDE, we will have beer and margaritas for the parents. KIDDING. Tequila is expensive - so just beer. (You know I'm joking, right?) (Maybe).

For the past eight months, the boys both wanted a "Space Birthday." Then, last week, they decided that they wanted an "Army Guy" birthday party. Which works out well for me, because this camo paper was on sale at Hobby Lobby. AND I don't have to worry about stupid party favors. I bought 24 water guns and some camo head bands (ala Rambo!) for them to play with at the party. Then take home - because I definitely don't need an overabundance of water guns post-party!

My only concern is my hardwood floors. MUST KEEP CHILDREN OUTSIDE!!! Also must keep grown ups from spilling beer. (I KID!)

All I have left to do is order the cake (if I thought I could do camo icing, I would totally do it myself, but that is just a disaster waiting to happen.) and clean the house. Which I am totally willing to hire out for. Know any cleaning ladies that like getting paid in water-guns?

When to worry.....

Boys in the bathroom, with the door closed, sounding entirely too mirthful....

ME: What's going on in there?

Boy: We're...oh....um.....nothing!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You know that this won't end well.



*********************UPDATE************************************

So.....Once I go into the bathroom I find out that the boys have discovered, "if you press your fingers up against the faucet and THEN turn the water on? You can make it spray the ceiling!!" As if this were a GOOD thing.

And, I suppose that in the mind of a 4-and 6- year old, it is one of the coolest things EVER.

However, here in Mommy-land, not. so. much.

Because, not only does it spray the ceiling, it also get on ALL the walls, the floor, the mirror, totally soaks an entire roll of toilet paper., gets INTO the medicine cabinet (I have no idea HOW because that thing is practically hermetically sealed when it's closed - and it WAS closed). I also discovered the next day, that water somehow got into the cabinets under the sinks and dampened all of the towels and washcloths stored there. That smelled nice. ONE WHOLE LOAD OF LAUNDRY, thankyouverymuch.

Oh, yes. There was some shouting. And they cleaned that bathroom but good. I felt sort of bad because, until I asked what they were doing, I really don't think that they thought that there was anything reason that spraying water all over the bathroom might be a bad idea. But not sorry enough to drive home the point that this had better never happen again. But I'm not holding my breath. Except when carrying out moldy towels.

You put your finger WHERE?!

The doctor told Bear that he should keep from putting anything, including his fingers, in his left ear - the one that has the patch and needs to heal. Because anything that went in the ear could cause infection. He made it nearly two whole days. Then, tonight...

aaaaahhhhh!!!!! Mommy!!! I accidentally put my finger in my ear!!!!!

You ACCIDENTALLY put your finger in your ear? How do you accidentally put your finger in your ear?

I thought it was the dry one!

*?*

Am I going to get sick now??

No, I think you'll be okay if you just don't do it again. Now go to bed.

It huuurrrrttttssss *sniff* *sob*

Well, there's nothing I can do for you. You will just have to go to sleep.

*sniff, sniff* Okay.

from the bedroom.....

waaaaahhhhhh!!!! Mmooooommmmmmmeeeeeeeee!!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yeah....it's gonna be a long night. (actually after a little snuggle, he settled down and went to sleep)

PS Can one of you tell him that he won't be able to swim at the Cub Scout Family Camp Out on Saturday? I'm afraid.

Oh yes, you read that right. FAMILY camp out. I'm going camping. Because I love these children. They better give me some awesome grandkids someday. They owe me.

The tubes come in & the tubes come out....

Tomorrow morning (okay....later this morning), my SugarBear goes to the Surgi-Center to have very minor surgery to have the tubes removed from his ears**. I know that it is no big deal. I know that he will most likely be fine and running around driving me crazy by noon. But there is still that little part of me that is panicking. THAT is the part that is keeping me awake. Even though I have to be up in less than six hours. To take him in to have this done. So I can sit in a lobby and wait and worry for the...oh, 20 minutes that it is probably going to take. Being a mommy is tough sometimes.

I will update as soon as I can. I suppose I should try to get some sleep now. TRY being the operative word here. Prayers are gladly accepted if you are so inclined....

**Yes, they should have fallen out by themselves by now. Two years after the trauma of putting them in....along with taking out his tonsils and adenoids. Maybe that is what has me freaked out. The tonsil & adenoids part was tough to recover from! But he'll be fine. Right?


******UPDATE***********

10:30

We are home from the surgi-center. The pre-op took longer than the actual procedure. I'm pretty sure that the worst part for Bear was the atropine shot. He woke up all calm and mellow. He was drinking a Sprite when I got back there. Followed by two ice pops and some Lorna Doone cookies. He's thinking that this whole surgery thing worked out pretty well!

One tube was just lying in the ear canal. He has a patch on the other ear drum because the tube was still totally in there. So no water in the ear & no blowing his nose for a few weeks. I'm thinking maybe the height of allergy season AND one week before the water park opens wasn't the best timing on this. Oh well.

Now he is laying on the couch for a MythBusters marathon. He's a little pissy because he can't go out & ride his bike. I'm so mean. Must dash. Jamie & Adam are busting MacGyver myths. COOL!

What's in a name?

I have a thing about nametags. I really think that they should be required in any an all situations where I am meeting people - and not just for the first time. I have a terrible short term memory and it takes me FOREVER to learn people's names.


This is especially bad in a flying squadron. Fighter pilots (and other flyers, sometimes) all have call signs (think Top Gun - Maverick, Goose, Ice, Hollywood, etc). The problem is, they all call each other by their call signs most of the time. So, truly, I don't know some guy's names. If I am friends with their wives (okay, SPOUSES - it is the 21st century), sometimes I know the guy's name, although, sometimes the wives call their husband's by the call sign as well. I usually know a guy's call sign or his real name -- rarely both.

As an aside, I have a theory that if you aren't sure of a fighter pilot's name, you can say Dave, Mike or Jim and be right at least 65% of the time.


Anyway, I have been campaigning for years to have the guys, when we have a function with couples, wear a nametag stating their call sign, their actual name, and to whom they belong. For example: SugarDaddy Lastname, "Maverick"**, Buffi's husband.

(oh, please like you still dont have a tiny crush on Maverick from Top Gun. NOT Tom Cruise, just Maverick. don't kill my fantasy here.)

Reciprocally, I would be perfectly willing to wear a nametag saying Buffi Lastname, Maverick's wife. Then we can all put the pieces together and know exactly who it is we are talking to. This will also help avoid those awkward situations where you are going on and on about what an ass some guy is only to find out that A) you are talking to his wife and B) her husband is YOUR husband's boss. Oh, yeah. Like THAT'S never happened.

I also think that we should wear nametags like this in other situations. At church, after-school pick up, PTA (Buffi: Bug's Mom), dinner parties, Target (because, seriously I cannot go to Target without seeing at least four people I know, at least peripherally), weddings (Buffi: college roommate of Bride), etc.

I think that this would be helpful at funerals as well. We were at a Memorial Service recently and I just couldn't help feeling bad for the wife and extended family of the deceased because they looked at so many people like "who the heck are you?" As did all of the other folks at the funeral. I wondered how some of these folks fit in. I just think that it would be better if you had your name and "Jim's sister-in-law," "Jim's ex-wife's brother" "Jim's barber" "Jim's boss's wife" "I work for the funeral home" "I'm a creep who just likes to go to funerals."


Could this get out of hand? Yes. But would it be SO MUCH FUN? For me anyway? Absolutely.

Happy Mothers Day! You all ROCK!

No more shouting, I promise

I am actually feeling much better. Nobody is more surprised about this than I. Maybe I just needed to have a big old pity party and vent a little.. Maybe it is all of your wonderful, supportive comments, phone calls and emails. Maybe it's the vodka. Just kidding. It's definitely the vodka. Hee hee. It's probably that things are coming to a close with the terrible, awful situation that we have encountered. I wish that I could be more forthcoming about it, but I can't for many reasons.


Anyway, yesterday I started to feel the fog lifting and I am beginning to climb back out of the pit. Even with SD gone for a couple of days. It's weird. But I'm not complaining. The kids seem to sense that I am doing better too, because they don't seem to be acting as...cautious?...around me. Of course that might just be my perception. Hard to tell.

After a long day of cleaning last week (was it really last week? It seems like a million years ago)- during which I cleaned the kitchen cabinets, swept AND mopped the floor in the kitchen and breakfast room, cleaned the baseboards and walls, AND? AND? vacuumed the family room - I jokingly said to SD that maybe I'm bi-polar and was having a 'manic' day. He looked at me and told me that our therapist thinks that I am. Boy, that threw me for a loop! But then I stopped to think about it and thought, "Hey, maybe so."


Now, considering the dark period I just went through, I think I will discuss this with Dr. C at our next session. Which will be...I don't know when. I didn't go this week because I just couldn't make myself get out of the house except to get the kids where they needed to be. And next week I had to cancel because Bear is having surgery to have the tubes taken out of his ears. (That child can NEVER do things the easy way. More on that in another post.)

I really think that full-blown bi-polar disorder might be a little extreme, but in researching it (gotta love Google) I think that Cyclothymia might be a possibility. I don't know. I will have to talk to my doctor about it.


Trouble is, my doctor is an idiot. You'd think that the Air Force would make the flight surgeons the best-of-the-best to take care of their flyers. Only not so much. It's more like, "Oh, you're pretty mediocre at everything? How about aerospace medicine?" Half the time I go in there, I get a deer in the headlights look. I pretty much tell them what I think is wrong, what medicine I want to take care of it and VOILA! a prescription is handed to me! I honestly believe that if I were to make half a case for it, I could get the flight doc to prescribe me heroin. As long as I accepted the scrip for 800 mg of Motrin along with it. We call it "Vitamin M." They don't call 'em the "Candy Man" for nothin'!

Whew! Lose focus much? (Isn't that on the bi-polar checklist?)


SO. There you have it. Feeling much better. Though this might be an indication of a serious mental illness. (Thus validating the opinions of countless friends, family members and acquaintances.) Or not. We may never know. But I'm smiling right now, so that's something, right?

Because I can't say this to my children in real life

Just shut the fuck up and stop whining already!!!!!!!!!! The television is staying OFF until all homework is done and all toys put away! When have you known me to waver on this? For crying out loud........

sorry for all of the bloggy-shouting lately. it's either here or actually at the children & I figure you all can handle it better than they can. plus you won't tell your teacher that I cussed at you. I don't need any more visits from CPS.*

*just kidding

crash

The cycle of depression can be a wild one. I have ups and I have downs. The past several days have been way, way down. I'm sure that there are things I could and should be doing to help myself, but I can't seem to muster up the energy to do them. Or much of anything else.

The events of the past week have taken their toll and I am really struggling. I am managing to hold it together (most days) and take care of my kids. I want to post something happy and funny here, but I don't have it in me. I'm not finding support where I need it most and that makes me really sad. Honestly, if it weren't for the patience and love of some really wonderful friends (CRB in particular) I'm not sure where I would be.

I'm really not looking for pity, but I need to get this out. I'll try to find the funny again soon. Till then, bear with me. It'll either be dead or pathetic around here.

The Belated Perfect Post Award

I have been terribly remiss. The Perfect Post Awards went up on Thursday and I totally forgot to tell you about MY nominee.

I have adored the Den of Chaos for quite sometime now. I know that if Tama and I lived closer together, we would totally hang out. She has three crazy kids like me. And every once in a while, she gets to have a totally inspired day with one of them. Much like the day she described in this post.

Go. Read. CRY. Enjoy. (but seriously, grab a tissue first)

Counting our Blessings

I have to be very, very vague in this post.

The Candyland periphery has experienced some tragedy. Not to the SugarBabies or SD or me. OR any of our families. But it is a difficult time around here nonetheless.

Days like this make me hug my loved ones a little tighter. As much as I might bitch about my husband or kids, I still feel like the luckiest woman in the world to have them. Each one is an amazing blessing.

So, please do me a favor. Go find your husband or wife or kids or best friend (or allof the above) and hug them, look into their eyes and tell them that you love them. You never know when that won't be an option ever again.

And to YOU: I truly love you guys, The ones who have been around here almost since the beginning and have seen me some great times and some really NOT great times. (Mesolithics!) You'll never know how much it means to me.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo