AMEN

six year old daughter sucks her

she really, REALLY wants one of these

we have refused to purchase this item for almost two years.

*******

so we told her if she would completely stop sucking her

we would buy her one of these

the other night at bedtime

we are saying prayers.

As I was about to utter "Amen" she places

her sweet little hand over my mouth and says

"shhh, shhh. i need to add something.

and God, please help me stop sucking my thumb.

you know how bad i want that barbie laptop."

"Amen"

SO HELP ME....

IF I EVER FIND OUT

WHO TOLD MY THREE YEAR OLD

SON THAT THERE IS THIS:

OR THIS

IN OUR HOUSE.

I SPENT THE GREATER PART

OF LAST NIGHT TRYING

TO CONVINCE HIM

THERE IS NOT A T-REX

OR MONSTERS IN OUR HOUSE.

SO HELP ME...

I HAVE A NEW REASON TO LIVE

YES, I AM YELLING AT YOU!


well not so much at you as i am yelling out loud for EVERYONE to hear!




BON JOVI HAS A NEW ALBUM
AND THE FIRST SINGLE
IS RELEASED TOMORROW.




did ya hear ME????





TOMORROW, TOMORROW, I LOVE YA TOMORROW.



no, wait - correct sentiment - wrong song, certainly wrong artist.

Are these boys not delicious?!

don't ya just want to take a bite?

at the very least, a nibble?

is it getting warm in here or is that just me???

anywho - just got the email and i have been doing the little bon jovi happy dance all over the house. (Not really - too tired and lazy after my trip to LA last week and the west coast time change thing along with the daylight savings and my flight being delayed and driving all day yesterday to pick up my daughter after a week's visit in Mississippi -inhale- anyway, i am tired) so i have been THINKING about doing the bon jovi happy dance all over the house.



The actual press release:



(March 19, 2007 – New York, NY) Flush with the success of their record-breaking world tour and multi-platinum album Have A Nice Day
– Island Records group Bon Jovi has completed a new album, LOST HIGHWAY.
Produced by Dann Huff (Keith Urban, Rascal Flatts) and John Shanks (who co-produced Have A Nice Day, and whose credits include Sheryl Crow, Melissa Etheridge, Chris Isaak and others) LOST HIGHWAY will arrive in stores June 19th on Island Records/Mercury Nashville. “(You Want To) Make A Memory,” the first single from the new album, will be blasted out to radio on Tuesday, March 20th.



Hello Boys. I've been waiting on yoooouuuuu!

why i would never commit suicide...

1. the most important reason i would never commit suicide is my family - specifically my kids. i could not leave them with that legacy. i'd rather them raised by a "kooky" mom than left by one unable to handle life and therefore ended hers.
2. i am a ninny. pain scares me.
3. i am afraid i would burn in hell for eternity
4. don't want my husband to get the life insurance money. not because i don't love him or anything but i have no doubt that while my body rots in the ground he'd go out and buy a brand new red dodge viper. and i'd have to come back and haunt his ass. And at the very least - when i am dead, i want to rest - not have to get up and chase him around (in order to haunt him) in his sexy new little sports car.
5. i have to know how this season of 24 will end
6. have not been to scotland yet
7. even though i have my own personal set of demons i deal with on a regular basis and they make me flat out batty sometimes, i love life. i love living. i love not knowing what tomorrow will bring.

Richard Jenni, comedian, shot and killed himself yesterday in West Hollywood. He's the guy that did the private engagement for my company's conference last year in Vegas. He brought the house down. He's the one I got to meet backstage with our CEO after the show. He's the guy that seemed so sincere and upbeat and glad to meet us in order to make sure he had done a great job for our company.

he obviously had his own demons.

you never really know when you meet someone what their demons may be.

i have demons.

you never really know if the people you deal with every day consider suicide as a way out.

everyday.

i consider it.

would never, EVER do it. for the reasons listed above and a thousand more.

but i still consider it. i relate - in a very twisted sort of way - to the people who actually do it. i do not extol their actions or wish to follow in their footsteps. i simply relate to the emotion that got them to the point of complete and utter desperation.

how sad that they did not have something to live for.

it was NOT the peanut butter

my son has recuperated nicely from his recent stint of hugely disgusting, pitifully painful, air putrefying illness. diagnosis - blastocystic hominis. from what i can tell by googling this - he got it on his last visit to a third world country...

anywho, his sweet little bones are not poking out any more - 'cept where they are supposed to. his cheeks are round and rosy again. not hollow and pale. his personality is back in full swing - and then some. it's as if he has to make up for lost time.

he woke from his nap yesterday full of piss and vinegar. he father picked him up out of his bed and deposited him in my lap on the couch.
son immediately demanded "i want a 'nola bar NOW!"

TRANSLATED: "May I please have a granola bar dear sweet mother?"

so i threw him a curve ball.

i casually asked in my deflecting i'm-gonna-try-to-get-you-to-eat-an-apple mother tone "You want a sucker?"

"NO! I want a..... YEAH!" HIS EYES BIG. MOUTH OPEN. "WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY MOTHER" stare.

i laughed until i cried

that was fun

i need more moments like that

don't we all...

damn doctors...

i turned 39 last month. for the first time. seriously. born in 1968 - you do the math.

went to the eye Dr to get new contacts and glasses. so he is doing his exam and i mention that i am starting to notice a small problem with reading fine print. not the computer screen, not the newspaper. not magazines.
F.I.N.E P.R.I.N.T.
you know, the tiny stuff.

he has the AUDACITY to point out that i am almost 40 and this kind of stuff happens when your eyes get older.

'scuse me?!?

i am attached to those eyes and i am certainly not getting anywhere NEAR older.

i never felt so old or insulted in all my barely 39 years. puh-lease.


then i go the my new family doctor. i haven't had one (a family Dr.) in years and my OB/GYN - who wrote me a script for anything i called and asked for - RETIRED. so i figured i should build a relationship with a new Dr. so that when i get pink eye again or my sinuses implode, i can actually get an appointment with someone i have met and approved of previously when NOT sick.

so i meet this new dr. she is young. (my age-ish) hip. cool. she thinks i am funny. she listened to me. we connected. clicked. she did a thorough exam. ordered blood work - all the normal things one does for a well checkup type experience.

she tells me she'll follow up with me on my blood results. see ya next year type thing and then she hands me some papers. printed material on some of the issues we had discussed. has her name and address on the top. nice touch, i think. just general information about being a woman and what you should do to have good health at this phase of your life.

and then i see it

the material she gave me is for the 40-49 year old woman age range.

HEEELLLLOOOOO, NEW DOCTOR - that i was really digging...

I AM 39 FREAK'N YEARS OLD.

I AM NOT 40.

Not for another 11 months and 5 days. (not that i am counting.)
and not that there is anything wrong with being 40. I think it will be just grand.

BUT I AM NOT 40.
DON'T FREAK'N RUSH ME!


and finally...
my daughter Samantha sees a psychologist once a week for counseling. i go in for 15 minutes and tell the doc how our week went and then Sam spends the rest of the hour (50 minutes) with the doc doing whatever it is they do.

so this week - based on the doc's suggestion - we started a new reward system with the goal of modifying unacceptable behaviour.

the idea is that every time we 'catch' a kid doing something nice, right, good, we add a penny to the small fruit jelly jar. when the jar is full, the kids get a reward. we decided the first reward would be really good - a trip to Chuck E. Cheese - aka adult purgatory!

so the kids nic-named the jar, "The Chuck E. Cheese" jar.

the first morning we used it, yesterday, WOW and holy COW! i have never seen better kids. jumping over each other to listen, follow directions, share, be kind to each other, get dressed, brush teeth and hair - not one complaint or whine.
not a single one.

Mom and Dad did not have to raise their voices once. It was like Mr. Roger's house on speed. the pennies just kept clinking in that jar. i thought it was brilliant. i envisioned a happy home with well-behaved children and clean floors for the rest of my natural life.

this morning I walked into Sam's room with the bunnies hop, hop, hopping under my feet, the blue birds singing on my shoulder. picture Snow White in the forest with the small, sweet, innocent, smiling animals. that was me almost skipping in to wake my precious angel from her slumber to start another glorious day in the Happy House.

soft sweet mother voice sings out...

"Samantha darling, it's time to get up and get ready for school. and don't forget about the Chuck E. Cheese jar..."

from under the covers comes a low growling rumble...

"I HATE THE CHUCK E CHEESE JAR!"


damn doctors...

i know i know i know

i know it is past time for me to pick my lousy butt up and move on.
to stop feeling sorry for my pitiful self and make some decisions and get on with my fantastic life. i know.

but i just can't seem to get moving. unless you count sliding down hill.
that seems to be the only motion i got going nowadays.

this morning i got my meds and my daughter's meds out of a Ziploc bag. we almost match pill for pill.
her adhd and bipolar and allergy pills.
my depression, anxiety, bipolar depression and allergy pills.
at least it is all in the family.
how pathetic is that... don't answer that. do not do it.

i have now been without a full time baby sitter/housekeeper since Thanksgiving weekend. My parents helped this past month and if they had not, i would be in the loony bin at this moment.

my in-laws help EVERY week. God Bless Them!

i have advertised in the local papers, on Craig's List, taken fliers to churches and schools. nothing. nada. zippo. i am beginning to think my ex-babysitter has black balled me in my little country community. (not really)

i am currently considering applying for an au pair. a young woman from another country that comes and lives with you in your home for a year, helps with your kids and attends a local college for 6 credit hours a year. Been looking at a couple different au pair agencies.

anyone out there got any experience with these programs? know anyone that does? looking for some first hand references from families that have done this. sure would appreciate any feedback you have on this idea.

in the mean time - whilst i await your enlightened direction - methinks i shall continue my current endeavors.

Eat

Drink

Sleep

white noise

there are moments, days even when i feel like screaming.
as loud as i can.
for as long as i can.
scream until i am empty.
void of air. of thought. of anger. of hurt. of confusion.
empty of responsibilities. of commitments. of guilt.
free of everything pulling me down into this pit i find myself sinking into.

just scream till it is all gone.

expelling all theses impurities from my system appeals to me on a very feral level.

as self preservation.

as a way to fight back against the world pushing down on me.
similar to how any animal will fight back when pushed into a corner.
this is how i feel - like i need to claw my way out of this corner.

and to start, all i want to do is

SCREAM!

did you say something

so i have three kids.
sam. the oldest. just turned 8. special needs.
gets a TON of attention from Mom and Dad.

smith. the youngest. the baby. the only boy.
gets a TON of attention from Mom and Dad.

savvy. the middle child. the drama queen.
with a serious MIDDLE CHILD SYNDROME ACT going on.
ALSO gets a TON of attention from Mom and Dad.

but you'd never know it the way she carries on.
"you've been with him allllll day. it's my turn to have you."
"you think she's prettier than I am."
"she got to go last time. I never get to goooooo"

so here's my theory. I think she thinks she can compensate for this non-existent disparity of parental attention by being the LOUDEST person in the house. OMG this child is loud. she is sooo loud. i can't begin to tell you how loud she is. did i mention that she is loud???

so my mom is visiting. savvy is on one of her tirades. i turn to my mom...
"Mother, honestly, was i that loud when i was a kid?"

my mother replies with all sincerity. "Honestly, t_cole, you are that loud now!"

c'est la vie...

is it friday yet?

Diddy has gone home to Mississippi.
yesterday.
i am so sad.
i would never have lived through the past week if he had not been here to help me. for every inch of poop i got on me, he got two inches. for every time i was puked on, he got it twice. And he was always the clean up crew. always. he would send me off to tend to my sick son - get him cleaned up and calmed down while he stripped the beds, started the laundry and mopped the floors. he woke up with me every time we heard smith cry. he slept sitting up in the hospital chair when there was a perfectly good empty bed 10 feet away.

he went to have lunch at school with middle child. He picked her up every day he could so she would not have to ride the school bus home. And of course stopped on the way home so she could pick out a snack (CANDY) for the 4.5 minute drive home.

he cooked bacon for my girls every single morning he was here. i NEVER cook bacon so that is a huge treat for them.

he read/listened to Sam read the same box of beginner books no less than 50 times. he finally asked me for different books because he feared Sam had memorized this group.

i know the vast majority of us love our dads. and i am not saying mine is perfect - but I would put my dad up against any dad for "Father of the Year." i just love him. i don't even have the words to thank him.

My Mom is here now. for a few days. and it's a whole new ball game. She says Smith looks worse than she anticipated. i tried to warn her.

He is eating more. and wants more to eat. i am still trying to go slow with him. i desperately want him to keep every morsel he puts in his mouth. cannot afford to go backwards again with this.

btw, did you see the recall for Peter Pan peanut butter yesterday. CDC says it has caused salmonella poisonings. i have an open jar in my pantry that matches the recall code.
yes, i have called them.

two most dreaded words in my vocabulary

used to be Summer Break.

they now are

STOOL SAMPLE.

will stop there.
i feel no need for elaboration.


son is better. but not out of the woods. he has lost more weight. he is still weak. not playing or anything, just naps and watching TV.
the good news is that he likes me to nap with him.
"Moma, SLEEP!" he tells me.
Who am I to argue???
so it's nap time.

ciao bella...

not over. but better

am home now. son in his own bed - until i go to bed and i will tuck him in beside me.
he is weak
fragile
emaciated
tired
and one hell of a little fighter.

he is living on berry Gatorade, bananas, nilla wafers and cheerios.
his tummy can handle those.
his abdomen did swell up again last night. not quite as bad - but enough to scare me.
soaked him in a hot bath
rubbed his tummy as much as he would let me
gave him Mylicon drops.
after many toots of the deadly gaseous kind and several runny diapers, the swelling subsided enough so he could sleep.
he has not vomited since the early hours of Monday.
can't say the same for the bottom half of the illness. diaper changes involve baths.
and a load of dirty clothes.

he was so sick in the hospitals. but had enough energy to fight back every time someone in uniform entered the room. at not quite three, he had his own demands - "Go Away!" "Don't touch me!" "Let me go!" "Don't do that!" and his most favorite "NO!!"

so here we are. at home. finally making some progress toward recovery.

i am so far beyond exhausted. i keep waiting for the brick wall to fall on me. to crash.
when they are that sick, you don't really sleep. you close your eyes. your mind slows. but your ears hear every breath. every groan and each moan. the gurgles in his gut. you feel every movement he makes. so while it looks like sleep, it is not. nor is it rest.
people have asked me how i have been doing. and i reply that i feel fine. and i have. felt fine. but the sinking is starting. the fatigue and mental exhaustion creeping into the seams of my mother armor.

time to rest.
sort of...

there are times i do not wish to be right

it is infrequent. that i do not enjoy being right. but it does happen.
i had hoped as i ranted and raved here last night that i was wrong.
that the Dr that sent my son home was right.
that he would be okay. that the worst was over.
i was not wrong.
i was entirely too right.

1AM awake to him screaming. his tummy hurts.
i reach for the meds they sent home with me for his tummy muscle spasms.
he refuses to take it.
my dad comes in to check on us.
my hand slides down to son's tummy
it is distended. swollen. grossly exaggerated beyond it's normal bounds.
it is the worst feeling human body i have ever felt beneath my fingers.
it is my son.
his emaciated body now has a tummy tighter and more bloated than an overinflated basketball.
my daddy feels it. i see the fear on his face mirroring that in my gut.
he wakes my mother in law. we throw on clothes. i grab my purse. son is screaming.
jump in the van and daddy drives like a maniac to the nearest ER - 3 minutes away.
my son's guts let loose on the way. he is soiled through when we get there.
this is the only time in any of my children's lives they have ridden in a vehicle on a public road without a child safety seat. EVER.
i held him tightly in my arms.

i jump out at the ER doors. run in with son in arms like a crazy woman.
i remember some woman telling me to fill out a form
i remember looking at her like she was mad.
the triage nurse took me by the arm and guided me and screaming son back to a quiet room
his insides are still spilling out the bottom. before long, out the top too.
they started another IV.
i blurt out the week's history.
i clean up my son. i clean up myself - as best i can. my daddy is there every step of the way.
call hubby and wake him up at home. ( i was spending night at in-law's)
ER doc comes back and tells me they have called OTHER large children's hospital in dallas and they are coming to get us.
by ambulance.
highlight of my sick sick son's week was riding in the ambulance. i kid you not.
so we spent from 2:30-ish AM till 2:30-ish PM in the ER under observation and having every conceivable test run on our son.
diagnosis - tummy ache.
severe case of gastroenteritis.
every thing else ruled out.
nothing new.
but i finally got a doc with some experience and real life advice that would listen to me.
he offered to admit us and allow us to stay overnight. he said all they would do is observe. no need for meds. no need for IV. we could do that at home where 3 in 4 people do NOT have the flu.
we went home.
am at the in-law's again tonight.
3 minutes from the nearest ER.
He awoke a few minutes ago - his tummy tight.
i am not freaking out.
just trying to help him toot.
ha
he is resting again.
bottom up in the air.
aroma is choking - to say the least.

I've said it before - I'll say it again

DO NOT MESS WITH A MOTHER WITH A SICK CHILD...

I swear to all that is holy and legal...

Pediatrician admitted son to LARGE well known Children's Hospital in Dallas yesterday b/c of the downward change in his blood counts since Wednesday's blood test.

so he got IV fluids and monitoring for 24 hours.
This morning his blood was "like normal" so they sent us home.

he went 24+ hours total without peeing. 12+ hours BEFORE the IV. AND 12 MORE hours AFTER they started the IV - he finally peed.
"Oh, he's not dehydrated - he's crying tears." BULLSHIT!

So today when they decided they would send us home - i resisted. he had not eaten or drank anything. so the NP decided we'd wait and see how the day evolved. She turned off his IV. Then the aide came to take out his IV. I said - OH NO. Not till I see the Dr.

So he asks for a hamburger. I ordered him a burger and fries. He ate half of it. ate half a yogurt cup. drank about 5 oz water. They sent him home. Dr all but insisted. i caved.

something about his blood work being so much better. normal.

allow me to get this out of my system right here and now so i will not go ballistic tomorrow when they admit him back to the hospital.

THERE IS SOMETHING TO BE SAID FOR MOTHER'S INTUITION! ESPECIALLY A MOTHER THAT IS NOT 18 YEARS OLD WITH HER FIRST CHILD. I AM NOT AN ALARMIST MOTHER. TRULY, I AM NOT. I AM HOWEVER, EDUCATED. WELL READ AND THIS IS MY THIRD CHILD. I KNOW WHAT THE HECK I AM TALKING ABOUT WHEN I TELL YOU MY CHILD IS STILL VERY SICK. I DON'T GIVE A RAT'S ARSE WHAT THE BLOOD WORK SAYS.

there, i feel better.

why so pissed t-cole?
why, you ask?

hmmmm....

could it have anything to do with the fact that he PROJECTILE vomited everything he ate and drank today in my van on the way home for the VERY LARGE CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL IN DALLAS? Van be damned - could care less about that. But the sight of my child with vomit FLYING from his mouth, dripping out his nose and tears running down his face with sheer fear in his eyes makes me FEROCIOUSLY MAD!

Must go. He is resting and I am not allowed to get very far from him.
will keep you updated as i can

bodily fluids

DISCLAIMER:
If discourse on puke, poop and/or the combination of the two make you ill, DO NOT READ ON. i'm serious. i am in a no-holds-barred kind of mood.
If discussions on self pity and pathetic Mommy whining turn you off, this is my blob, i mean blog - go away - come back later.

two of my three kids have been sick. One, Sam has run a low grade fever for TWO WEEKS. which means NO SCHOOL. and she is my special needs child. with behaviour issues. and in case i have not mentioned it before (a thousand times) - a fever makes her meaner than a two headed snake with one frog. OMG!!!

we think she has sinus infection. Ear, Nose and Throat Dr tells us to irrigate her sinuses. YOU irrigate her sinuses lady. not me. been there. done that, got the bite marks and bruises to prove it. was going to take her into the office yesterday so they could flush and suck out her sinuses. now doesn't that sound like fun??? but she woke up puking and we decided to put it off till Monday. who ever thought puking would be a really good thing? at least for her.

two, my son, smith has had rota virus. a gastrointestinal disturbance of epic proportions. this basically means that any - and I DO MEAN ANY - fluids or solids you get into him will come out of him - one way or another - by force - immediately, in most cases.

get this - apple juice in the mouth - a sippy cup full. within 30 minutes or less - it has come out the bottom. i have only seen this once before. when i was a little girl and we got those dolls that actually 'drank' bottles and the 'waste' came out the bottom within seconds. yeah, it was just like that.

i have been puked on. peed on. pooped on - once up my sleeve when i was changing him. it got so bad that i would change his diapers and wrap a towel around him so when he did 'go' AGAIN and it dripped out his diaper i wouldn't get as much on me.

my hands are chapped from continuous, frequent and vigorous washings.

every sheet and towel in my house has been washed at least twice this week. and i have a butt-load of sheets and towels.

even spent six hours at the ER on Wednesday to get him IV fluids. As he sat on my lap during triage, i tell the nurse he is lethargic. "Oh this is not lethargic." she says condescendingly. I think to myself - "Lady, he is not holler'n and swinging from the curtains as he usually does. TRUST ME, THIS is lethargic for my child." He literally did not allow me to put him down for three days. yes, i took baths with him and went to the potty with him on my lap. adds new meaning to Mommyitus.

he awoke mean and hungry this morning. always a good sign. but i swear to you he has lost at least 5 pounds - and that's a lot for a three year old that weighs 32 pounds or so... he resembles a child you might see on the Feed The Children posters. and he is weak. he looks like a drunk man when he walks. wobbling from side to side.

but he ate applesauce this morning and few nibbles of crackers and some pedialite. and so far has kept it all.

the pediatrician called (I love this woman!) and she wants to see him this afternoon. so off we go.

and it's the weekend soon. i am sending the healthy one off to the in-laws.
my dad has been here to help. been up with me every night and cleaned up as much puke and poop as i've had splattered on me. one night i slept in the recliner to take care of Smith. my daddy slept on the couch near by to take care of me.

yes, 'mam. could've been worse. could've been a lot worse.


POST NOTE:
i came home this evening from the pediatrician and had a few comments. you folks are just great. but as i reread this entry - it really did not do justice to the week i have had. and it could have been worse. if my dad had not been here - i would have died.

the pediatritian - TODAY - when my son was on the upswing seriously considered admitting him overnight to the hospital. he looks that bad. and if you're wondering why i took him to the ER on Wednesday and the ped on friday - you should know that she is closed on thursday.

he demanded a Happy Meal as we left her office. i drove directly to Mickey D's. he ate half of it. He has been sipping and nibbling ever since. and all of it - so far has stayed on the inside of him as expected.

i cannot express in words how much i love and adore my children. as maddening as they can be - it is quite a wake up call when you have one this sick. my heart goes out to the parents of those children that never will get well.

he just vomited again. more later....

what do you call it...

when i get a craving for something - like in the fall of the year when the air turns crisp, i get a longing to go the mountains of Colorado. i call this yearning "mountain-itis" As in "I got a bad case of mountain-itis. Can we go to Vail this weekend?"

when one of my kids is clingy beyond belief and will not leave my shadow, i call that "mommy-itis."

so over Christmas at my parent's house, my son, Smith, developed a severe case of mommy-itis. had to carry him or hold his hand 24/7. my mom was mentioning it and we agreed he had an acute case of mommy-itis. Savvy, my five year old, overheard this comment and misunderstood the slang.

she calls it The Mommy Virus.

So now, when he clings and demands all my attention....

"Uh Oh! Smith's got the Mommy Virus again."

yep, i just had to write that one down...

so we're all on the same page

dog that just turned a year old is still not house trained. apparently this is my fault since i am home with her all day every day. regardless of the fact that i have never house trained a dog in my life. please do not offer advice on this - i get way more than enough of that from my husband.



not only have i not successfully house trained a dog, i have three kids and have not successfully potty trained any of them. don't get me wrong - the older two go on the potty. still wear pull-ups at night, but go through the motions during the days. but i didn't teach them this. i just said to them, "here's the potty. what you have been depositing in your diaper, put it here instead." and i left them alone. eventually, they got it. drove my poor mother in law batty. and i do mean OffTheWall batty.



but the boy child - the one that turns three next month. diapers - 24/7. the only use he has for the toilet is to wash his hands in. thanks, no, i don't want advice on this either. eventually it will make my mother in law batty and she will do something about it. that or he will go to first grade in diapers and we all know that ain't gonna happen.



still no baby sitter. my father has once again come to texas to rescue me. i love that man. he cooks, cleans and runs kids around. PLUS he works for free. he bought a one way ticket to fly out here. and while i like to think this means he can and will stay as long as i need him - the reality is that he can grab his bag and leave whenever he has had enough. so far, i am on my really good behaviour. cannot say the same for my offspring. luckily they are his grandchildren and he tends to cut them a bit of slack.



read this article about breastfeeding in public. Americans - as a whole - are so freaked out about women's breasts. i do not get it. i breastfed all my babies. till they started biting me - then i put them out in the back yard and let them scavenge for themselves. (ever been bit on the nipple? you'd do the same!)



and while i was as discrete as possible - i nursed in private. i nursed in public. i nursed in front my dad, my brothers, my brothers in law, my pa in law, my girlfriends, their husbands. no wait - i nursed when AND WHERE my babies were hungry. OH YEAH! THAT'S WHY WE PULL OUR BOOBS OUT - to feed our babies. "no, I will not go feed my infant child sitting on a toilet in a nasty public bathroom. Why? You go eat your lunch in there??? be my guest."



no, i do not judge women who can not or do not breast feed their babies. i am not a lactation nazi. but holy crapping cow people - shut up and let the mothers feed their babies - however, whenever and where ever that baby needs nourishment!



BTW - KUDO's to Nordstroms for having the absolute best nursing rooms for mothers.



my son got a hair cut the other day. a real hack job. poor kid. i kept my calm through out the whole ordeal by telling myself over and over, "it's just hair. it'll grow back. it'll grow back"



speaking of hair, my mom was here right after Christmas. we had loaded up the kids and were on our way to town for some shopping. mom casually points out that i did not brush my kids hair before we left home. without pause i tell her, "school and church, mom. school and church." otherwise, if they want their hair done, they have to ask. and they won't ask. you know how they say "pick your battles." this ain't one of them.



okay. i think that's it for today.
i feel better now.

so i had this dream last night

Jimmy and Rosalyn Carter were guest speakers. (I love them)

I must have been some sort of college graduation - as we were in a very large auditorium.

I saw Ronald Regan leaving as I was getting there. Apparently my subconscious is not aware of his death.

The big news is that Oprah was there. In my dream. She has made appearances in my dream world several times in the past. And each time, she knows who I am. Not like we are best buds or anything - but she recognizes me and always calls me by name. Same thing last night. In the middle of the speechs and stuff she approaches me and wants me to help her unpackage and assemble a baby stroller for a doll. So I do. Go figure?!

Then I go back to the Green Room with her and Tom and Katy (Cruise) are there. I proceed to tell him very politely (okay, not so politely) what an idiot he is and if he does not believe in better mental living through pharmaceuticals he should come spend a month at my house with just me and my daughter. That would certainly convert his way of thinking or KILL him. My daughter and i in the same house for a month with neither of our meds - he would bash his own head in with pots and pans.

But back to Oprah. I just love her. I never watch her show any more. No time. But I do splurge and read her magazine when possible. I love that she is from Kosciusko, Mississippi. a home girl. I love that she is made person - successful because her own merits and hard work. and rich beyond my wildest dreams. and a HUGE philanthropist. Whenever I have caught her show, I almost ALWAYS agree with her opinions - and when not - I have very good food for thought. She battles her weigh and self image. i relate to that.

I have not developed an opinion on the girls school she just opened in Africa. i know there is controversy surrounding it. i just have not had the time to do adequate reading and research to form my own thoughts on the matter.

regardless, i love Oprah and what she stands for. i just know that if i ever meet her in real life - i will be crushed when she does not recognize me and call me by name...

This Is A Test

It is only a Test.
This test is brought to you by the Emergency Mother Association (EMA)

There is no need to panic or head for the hills.
Your oldest daughter is running a low grade fever
She must abstain from attending school today.
Your son refuses to watch another DVD
His eyes are square
Aforementioned offspring get along like the Hatfield's and McCoy's
You still cannot locate a full time baby sitter
It is too cold and wet for them to play outside
Nor can you lock them out of the house
You have voluntarily chosen to give up sugar
in an attempt to lose the stress fat gained last year.
Dixie Dog is one big furry muddy mess
Husband person gets to go to work (creep)
Away from the house (i hate him)
He did offer to bring home dinner
We may forgive him.

This has just been a test.

If this had been an actual emergency, the EMA would have done an immediate air drop of Calgon, red wine, dark chocolate, a masseuse, Nanny McPhee, and a five- course home cooked meal.

This concludes this test of the Emergency Mother Network.

on an upswing...

blame the meds or the mania.
i don't care.

it ain't over - the funk, that is.
but it's better

and since i am on an upswing - and i'd like to encourage that, thought i'd share a funny that recently occurred.

back in december when i found out i had polyps in my uterus that would have to be removed, i was mortified. and for the record, 'mortified' is WAY too weak a word to describe how i felt.

i could look at my kids and start crying. i researched the condition. this type of thing is not uncommon and is RARELY cancerous. but when it is your body. your uterus. your polyps. reason and sanity evaporate quickly.

so i was emotionally fragile. another gross understatement.

one night in bed, hubby asks "what's wrong."
me - starting to tear up, voice quivering ever so slightly, "i'm scared!"
him - "scared of what?"
me - "that it is going to be cancer." tears flowing freely now. nose starting to run.
him - "CANCER????"
me - "Yeah, CANCER! And I am scared that it can't be cured and i am scared I will die and leave these kids before I get them raised." throat closing up, nose and eyes flowing freely now. wipe both with back of PJ sleeve.
him - "YOU'RE SCARED! I'M THE ONE THAT SHOULD BE SCARED!"

and i know immediately he is thinking about having to raise our three precious little darlings all on his own.

and I start laughing. till it hurts. then crying again. till the sobs start again. i am a tear-stained, snotty mess.

I tell him when i finally can speak, "If i live - that's going to be the title of my book."

Guess I better get to writing, huh?

poor, poor, poor me, poor, poor, pitiful me

what is that song? It's been playing my head since i published my last entry. Linda Ronstadt maybe? too lazy to google it... anyway, it is my self proclaimed theme song this week.

a dear friend called me yesterday just to check in. we spoke a few minutes and i asked her if she had read my blog - as i figured that's why she was checking on me.
nope. she just knew i had been in a funk and was being a good friend. thank heavens for good friends!

my personal philosophy has always been that everyone is entitled to a really good pity party every now and again. wallow in it. pour the pitifuls all over you. moan and wail. beat your chest. and then get your butt up and get on with it.

the irony in my current situation is that i have been getting on with it. everything is getting done. the kids fed, clothed, brushed, homework done (most days). groceries bought. house work kept up. job work maintained. on-time for all Dr appointments and with the exception of an occasional temper tantrum/blow-up (by me) when my kids are ignoring me deliberately - externally - things look okay.

i have had episodes in the past where i have sat, stared at my hands and cried for three days straight. last year i left home for 24 hours and sat in a local hotel room and cried, wrote, read and stared at the walls. this is not that.

i just feel like my spirit is spent. all used up.

i am planning the Valentine treats my kids will take to school for their classmates. gotta make 40 something of them. Easter treats are in the planning stages as well.
I have three kids birthday parties between now and the end of March to plan and execute. am working on a special gift for my father's 70th birthday this month.

my theory is that if i keep going through the motions. if i keep doing the things that have to be done. should be done. must be done. that somehow my spirit will replenish itself. and if i am wrong - and my insides remain stale - then at least i have taken care of my family and they will be better for it.

and you know - i know i am not special. that everyone has their own demons. their own battles. but what i really want to know - the question that has been rolling around in my mind is this - Are there people out there - with average to above average intelligence - that are happy? not necessarily living in bliss all the time. but let's say 80% of the time they are content with their life situation.

do average people exist that are content with their lives the vast majority of the time? and i do believe contentment is a process - not a place - it is something that must continually be fed and watered. so are there folks out there that nurture themselves enough to maintain a relatively high level of contentment and happiness in their lives?

and if the answer is Yes - then what on God's Green Earth do they know/do/take that i don't???!!!

okay, who thinks t_cole thinks too much - raise your hand.
yeah, that's what i thought...

thanks for your comments and for caring. ignore me if you must till i get back to where i should be. and please remember - i know i am not special in the fact that i am depressed. i am one in a billion. this is just my little corner where i choose to voice it.
join me if you like. you are always welcome in my little world. the people are crazy here - but very hospitable.

my son needs a haircut

i think i am losing my mind
and then i think i have found it
and i try desperately to hold on to it - my sanity, that is.
it's like trying to store pudding in a colander

this and other meaningless banter
all rolling around in my head

i suffer from depression. and suffer is actually the appropriate word.
i started a new anti-depressant January 2005 and as it 'kicked-in' and did it's job, i felt less and less need to blog for therapy.
oh, i wrote tons of blog entries since then - all in my head. for my own purposes. they just never made it here.

at thanksgiving 2005 i released my babysitter from her employment with our family.
i have yet to hire a replacement.
which means I went through the entire holiday season without help. was the first time in four years i wrapped all my Christmas presents and put up all the decorations by myself.

about the same time i let her go, i found out i had polyps in my uterus.
in my head - for weeks - i kept repeating

i have polyps in my uterus
but i don't think it's very humorous

i was sure there was a song in there somewhere but that's as far as I ever got.

scared the living shit out out me.

on the 8th of december, i had out patient surgery. the polyps were benign and were removed.

clean bill of health - as far as female organs go...

money was tight for the holidays so i decided to make a lot of my presents. I knew getting decorations up, making, buying and wrapping gifts would be a huge ordeal as the holidays always are so early on, i just made up my mind that i would work my butt off and plow through it all. if for no other reason - for the kids.

Christmas was the last thing i wanted to do. but i kept hoping that if i faked it. if i pretended. if i went through the motions. if i did everything right that a mom of three is supposed to do - then, THEN i would have the Christmas spirit too.

and it worked briefly. the highlight of the season for me was our pageant at church. i felt 'it' there. which i guess is where you are supposed to feel the Christmas spirit so that worked out nicely.

then back to the rush rush rush. Drive 10 hours to Mississippi with two sick kids, one ILL kid, one large dog and a grumpy, exhausted hubby.

shortly after arriving my daughter accidentally broke one of the gifts i had made. it was completely an accident. it could EASILY be repaired (and was) but I lost it. i mean i COMPLETELY lost it. i screamed, cried and wailed so hard for so long i busted blood vessels under my eyes. no joke. permanent reminders of this episode.

the rest of the trip and holiday at home are somewhat of a blur. i was utterly exhausted but determined to do what i could to 'create memories' for the kids. and there were some really nice moments for the kids. we pulled that off at least.

my parents were great. my mom came back to texas with us and spent 10 days or so at my home. just having her here was a balm for my soul. (explain that b/c we have never spent such a long stretch together without one of us trying to kill the other one)

i continued to push myself. i had work to do, a house guest i wanted to take care of and three kids at home for the rest of the holidays. one kid still quite sick.

did go to a fabulous new year's eve party and mom baby sat. bonus.

but then my Mom left. kids went back to school. still no baby sitter for two (almost three) year old son at home. job work to do. house to clean. bills to pay. dishes to wash. baby sitter to hire. laundry to do. carpool to run. normal everyday stuff that normal every day people do.

and i dissolve into a puddle of worthless human flesh. all i want to do is sleep. and eat. did i mention i gained 20 pounds last year. lovely, huh?

and sleep.
and eat.

and eat.
and sleep.

so i am in a funk - not full out - as the meds prevent be from falling into the abyss. but i can tell if the meds were not in my system, i would be non-functioning. i despise this cloud in my soul feeling.

i tell my hubby. he has all but quit trying to understand me and my illness.

i tell my dad. he listens. and relates as best he can. and finally he tells me that sometimes you have to just 'dig deep' and 'push through it.' and he is right.

i talk to my mom about it. sometimes i think she understands better than anyone as i remember her (when I was a child) sometimes acting out then the way I feel on the inside now. and she does understand. and empathise. and finally she tells me that i am made of stronger stuff than this. that she and my paternal grandmother were both survivors and lived through their own hells at times - without the benefit of pharmaceuticals, i imagine.

so finally i talk to my shrink. he ups my dose of one med and writes me a new script. i am now up to three meds to help me feel 'normal.'

Shrink tells me i need to go to counseling. I start laughing at him - and then start crying. tell me something i don't know.
and when exactly, pray tell, would you like for me to go to counseling?? before or after carpool? should i schedule it after i drop my 7 (almost 8) year old daughter off with her counselor? or perhaps I can squeeze it in b/t laundry and the dishes. and do ya think they'd mind if i bring my two year old son with me since i can't seem to find a baby sitter to hire?

speaking of which,
my son really needs a haircut.

this is me - and I don't even smoke...

did i just completely miss september???

seems like a blur. it IS a blur.

i spent three weeks on the road traveling for work.
three delicious weeks of room service, valet parking, having the remote all to myself, dinners out, dressing up, talking to adults all day, happy hour at the hotel bar...

tell me again why i came home?
ah yes, the three little rugrats i call mine.
(they're fine by the way)

what a mess they are. and what a rude awakening it was for me when i finished my trips and had to start staying home again. how did i do this? apparently i did. as i am doing it now.

yes, hubby, mother in law and baby sitter are all saints. They pulled the long shifts with the kids so i could get some work done away from home.

here's the funny thing - after the first few days gone, my mother in law (MIL) tells me how hubby is going to have to do this, that and the other different b/c he allows the kids to really get to him. "Yes 'Mam" i say.

After three weeks gone, MIL calls me to tell me that the in-laws (three different families) have agreed to take our kids - one per family - one weekend a month so hubby and I can catch a break. Yep, three weeks with my kids and she understands why the kids get to him.

I wanted to cry - almost did. Told her i felt like i had won the lottery.

This weekend is our first weekend. perhaps the last. but i am going to sleep late on Saturday. God help the person that calls and wakes me up Saturday morning. somebody better be dead or my house had better be burning down around me.


I have a picture for you. This is a Katrina Cross. Yes, as in Hurricane Katrina. Made by Sherri Anderson from china, glass and other debris from a Long Beach, MS neighborhood. My mom bought it for me. Part of the proceeds from the sale of these crosses is given to a mission in South Mississippi.

Please know - the rebuilding has barely begun in most coastal areas. The suffering and loss are still very raw.
and these are my people.