katrina. two years and counting...

two years ago today my family was digging out from under. literally.
and my husband was cutting his way to them. literally.

two years.

i started this blog because of Katrina. when the storm hit that day, i could get no news on the areas nearest my family - south mississippi.

i had heard of blogs. never really read one - but knew the concept. so i googled "Katrina Blog" and found this - Eye of the Storm. two invinceable young guys - newspaper reporters - from south mississippi that were staying behind to cover the storm. neither were native mississippians. and both were entirely too young to remember camille and to know staying behind - by choice - was foolhearty.

they started their blog as kinda a lark. not really thinking they would be putting their lives on the line within the first 24 hours after starting it. or that they would have to go without - a lot - for months afterwards.

you can read the progression of their perception of the storm and her aftermath. i have gone back to the beginning a few times and re-read it. they don't post anymore. but their journal of what happened to them and around them is raw, real, humorous, reverent, crass, and at times excruciatingly painful to read.

especially for those of us with roots in and ties to mississippi.

mississippi.
my mississippi
she's still rebuilding.
there's still so much to do

two years and counting

pro choice AND anti-abortion

the two are not mutually exclusive.

i am vehemently, loudly and HUGELY Pro Choice. My body. My family. My choice.

i am also, on an extremely personal level, anti-abortion.

and i feel no contradiction whatsoever...

so what would i choose?
i choose to NOT have an abortion.

yes, this belief has been tested in my life. i know first hand, up-close-and-personal the decision i would make when presented with a HUGELY unplanned pregnancy.

but the crux is - it is my choice! not the suits in DC. not the well meaning folks carrying the signs with pictures of aborted fetuses and especially not Supreme Court Justice Kennedy's. that man is stuck in the Leave It To Beaver mentality. he's down right scary!

so why the rant, tcole?

i love Anna Quindlen. have for years. her books. her Op-Ed pieces. she always makes me think. and this article is no exception. it is some good thought-provoking writing.

and no matter what side of the fence you sit on - you need to be prepared to address the argument she raises in this editorial.

the pediatrician

i met my children's pediatrician when my firstborn was three days old - the day after we brought Sam home from the hospital.

i knew when I was prego i was supposed to research and even interview the pediatrician i wanted to use. all the baby books tell you to do this. some even offer a list of interview questions to ask. and as crazy vigilant i was as a mom-to-be, this is one thing that did not get done.

and as fate would have it - i needed one as soon as i got my daughter home - she was jaundiced and she wouldn't poop. and rule #1 with a newborn is that what goes in must come out.

so i was panicked. completely. and hormonal. FROM HELL.

so i looked up a pediatrician in my insurance information booklet near my home. i called. he was no longer in practice. a new dr had bought him out. yes, they still accepted my insurance and yes, they could see my daughter right away.

i had a pediatrician.

i clearly remember my first impressions. her office waiting room was quite small and unassuming. nothing flashy, glossy or expensive in sight. and i remember thinking - we'll just get through this poop/jaundice thing and then i'll find a "proper pediatrician." one with Dr. Seuss murals on the wall and child size chairs in the waiting room.

after making my judgements about the Dr's office, i looked down at my tiny baby and my RAGING hormones caught up with me. i told my mom - through tears - "if i can't talk when we get in there, if i get upset, you'll have to tell the Dr. what's wrong with my baby." my mom just nodded.

in the exam room, waiting on the dr., imagining the absolute worst with my daughter, the tears start. again.

directly, this hugely alive, beautiful, impish, dark skinned woman glides in. i automatically and without reservation hold up my baby and offer her to this woman. she says "no, no, no. you hold her and i'll examine her in your lap."

and that's just what she did. kindly. gently. expertly. all the while asking me questions. reassuring me. and she put us on the right path. that day. to get Sam on the mend and pooping.

i never, ever, not even once considered changing pediatricians again. not even after we moved to the country and were a full hour drive away from her. and the year we lived in mississippi - so Sam could attend a specialized preschool - i had the mississippi pediatrician make copies of everything on each child so i could send back to her to put in their files in her office.

every single time i phone her office, i have gotten in that day. no runaround or delay of any kind. ever.

she phones me on nights and weekends to check on sick children.

she takes my calls in the middle of the day or returns them immediately.

she has referred me to umpteen specialist over the years. and she knows how to prepare me for each one. warns me if i will not like their bedside manner or if i will appreciate their direct approach or use of new techniques. she knows me - what i like, what i expect and what i will sacrafice and tolerate for the sake of my children's care.

she will walk out of the exam room - during an exam - and call a specialist on the spot if she has a question about treating one of my kids.

when smith was deathly ill earlier this year, she called me on my cell several times a day and often ended up speaking to the ER doc's on my cell phone.

she has held our hand, been directly involved and encouraged us every step of the way in all of sam's medical, speech and behaviour issues.

she gave ME (made me take) a flu shot one year when i had not had mine - and the kids were getting theirs.

she listens to me. she encourages me. she praises me and she tells me where i need to do better.

she is meticulously detail oriented. whenever I take the kids in for their yearly check-ups, I spit-shine every square inch of them. Teeth, clean. Hair, washed and brushed. finger and toenails, clipped and cleaned. not a speck of dirt on them anywhere - which is a real rarity with my kids. i just don't want to be busted for any small transgression...

yesterday was such a visit. school physical for Sam, yearly check-up for Savvy. and i promise you, she spent 45 minutes with me and my kids. right after she started with us, she looked up and says, "you don't mind if i go take care of the family in the next room, do you? They will be out quickly and then i won't be rushed with you." of course i don't mind.

she was back in a few minutes and each girl got a thorough interview and exam followed by a hug and a kiss. next to me - this woman knows the most about my kids. i tell her everything.

she sends the girls out to hang with the nurses so she can talk to me in private. wants to know how i am doing. how's the move going? anything i want to tell her while the kids are not there...

i LOVE this woman. i do.

if you are ever in Dallas and need a referral for a ped - gimme a call.


i've learned a lot about being a mother since my first visit to her office.

and still, at first glance, her office ain't much, but after a few visits, it feels like the Taj Mahal!

my girls...

The Glamazons made it to the top 10 on America's Got Talent.

WOOOHOOO!!!

and get this - my neighbor asks me the other day...

"Have they called you yet?" she asks
"Who? What are you talking about?" i respond confused
"The Glamazons. Have they called you?" she replies coyly
"WHAT?!" me, still confused
"I sent them an email and told them all about you." she confesses

I am sitting by the phone, peeps!

confessions of a muggle...

i know what a bezoar is for.
i know where Madame Pomfrey works.
i know who founded the house of Slytherin.
i know what Harry's Godfather gave him on his first birthday.
i know how to free a house elf.
i know what the Gryfindor house colors are.
i know how to make a patronous charm. (can't do it - but i know how)
i know what polyjuice potion is for.
i know the name of Hagrid's dog.
i know the difference between a blugger and a quaffle.
i know Lupin's secret.
i know how to get to the Shreaking Shack.

and i know how the seventh Potter book ends.
read it in 8 hours yesterday - then went back and re-read the last 100 pages again - to make sure i didn't miss anything. and because i didn't really want it to be over...

thank you, Ms. Rowling.
it's been a FABULOUS adventure.

i wouldn't have missed it for the world.

do the math...

i just did.

counted the days. weeks.

FIVE more weeks until school starts back in the great state of texas

lord give me strength

something about the state tourism board making a stink last year about the school year starting too early and businesses losing a lot of tourist dollars so the start of school is later this year.

there is a directly proportional increase in the number of Valium scripts written for the parents of school age kids.

and my summer babysitter is no more.

been interviewing au pair candidates like crazy. apparently, none of them want to come to TX. that or i just come across as a bitch. who knows, could easily be both...

my oldest daughter comes home from Mississippi tomorrow. for the first time in four months, I will have all three kid at home. and while i am thrilled beyond words (SERIOUSLY) to see my baby girl again, i am mortified at having all of them home again.

the three together bring new meaning to sibling rivalry. and i know i deserve this. i do. but it still brings me to my knees.

you know what they say...
God ain't going to give you more than you can handle.
yep, that's actually a paraphrase of a biblical verse.
Mother Teresa replied - I just wish he didn't trust me so much...

I can relate.

Five weeks and counting...

MF'ing TX Tourism Board!

I know what I want to be when I grow up!

i am 39 years old and i finally know EXACTLY what i want to be when i grow up...

a GLAMAZON!

(click here)

and yes, i am dead serious. so much so my hubby is in a tizzy over it. (which I am really enjoying. cause he knows damn well i would do something JUST LIKE THIS.)

they were on America's Got Talent tuesday night. and blew me (and the judges) away. they have fabulously full figures and can sing and dance. in fact, most of them have music or theater degrees. they aren't just a fluke and they damned sure aren't making fun of themselves or inviting anyone else to either. just four fabulous full figured women using their God given talents and the phenomenal bodies that house those talents!

.

here's my thought - i got the T&A (for sure!). i am a born performer. can sing and dance - did it all through HS and college - though did not get a degree in it. and few women are more comfortable in their own skin than I am...

.

i think i am a PERFECT fit!

.

and they all have deliciously sexy stage names, like Ginger Snap, Candy Apple, Caramella and Lady Finger.

.

i am thinking Southern Sugar for yours truly.

.

whadayathink?

Rain, Rain Go Away....

NOW! DAMMIT!

i am sick to death of rain. and while i can be VERY thankful we are not in a flood prone area and have experienced no loss of life or property - i still feel entitled to BITCH about the Biblical downpours we have been experiencing in North Texas.

my kids have a chronic case of Cabin Fever. it's summer time. they want to play. i have started sending them out to play in the mud. as long as it is not lightening. only problem with that is then the outside comes in and we are still trying to keep this house clean so we can show it.
such joy.

i am pasty white. no tan to speak of. usually by this time of year, i have a nice glow of sunshine on my skin. i can't even go to Pissy's blog anymore. every time i do, i get so damned jealous of her GORGEOUS tan my washed our skin tone takes on an obvious green tint...

the grass in my yard is at least three feet high in places. it's NEVER dry enough to mow.

our white horse ain't white no more.

in May, the huge lake near our home was something like 17 feet below normal. today - FLOOD STAGE! seriously people. this is crazy.

i'm calling this RAD - R.ain A.ffective D.isorder.
akin to SAD - S.easonal A.ffective D.isorder.
'cept this diagnosis comes with an umbrella and rubber boots.

prepare the life boats, peeps.

Texas Housewives Meeting - Don't Be Late

i got this picture in an email from a dear friend of mine. she knew how much i would enjoy it.

and i did enjoy it. so much so, i had to share it with you.

i grew up with guns and weapons and hunting and camouflage boxer shorts (not mine). i also grew up with a father that taught and demonstrated complete and uncompromising respect for the weapons and their potential power.

for my family, having a gun in the house is like having groceries in the pantry. one of my brothers has an extensive collection of guns and knives. and he is one of the most gentle souls i know.

he's a boy. it's his thing. big deal.

i am always just a bit amused by my international friends/colleagues amazement (shock!) when they find out that i am gun owner. that i know how to use one. and that we keep several in our home (locked and secured in a heavy duty gun safe.)

this is particularly amusing with folks that know me, have formed an opinion as to my character, education and intelligence. i am almost certain i blow away all their stereotypes of gun owners.

and no, i am not a member of the NRA. nor is anyone that lives in my house. the NRA give all gun owners a bad name and the only people that benefit from their political clout are thugs. (you knew there'd be an opinion in here somewhere...)

so the other day, a large dog was wondering our yard. a neighbor has moved and simply left his dog out here in the countryside to pretty much fend for itself. this is a LARGE male dog. one that i deem an immediate threat to my children when they play outside. an obvious threat to the dead kitten i found on my front porch last week.

i ask the hubby to get the gun and fire a warning shot to scare the animal away. he tells me that all his guns are packed and have been sent to storage.

"ALL of them?!"

"Yep. All of them."

"You mean we have NO guns in the house?!"

"Nope, no guns here."

suddenly i feel nekkid...

husband is immediately charged with the responsibility of borrowing a gun from the neighbor until we move.

can't go 'round nekkid with kitten killers on the prowl.

sibling rivalry sucks

no matter how old you are

you have got to be kidding me

i don't usually do this here. in fact, i have been instructed to NOT blog about my hubby in the event that he ever decides to run for public office one day. uh, yeah. right.

but he started it. you be the judge - tell me if i am over reacting here.

last night as i crawl into bed, he tells me he has a new ring tone on his new cell phone specifically for me (when i phone him). so i pick up the house phone and call his cell. it rings - a normal ring.

he says, "No, call me from your cell phone"

so i did.

and you know what ring tone he assigned to my cell phone number -

"I like Big Butts and I can not lie..."

do not laugh!
at least not where i can hear you.

i was so beyond pissed. i don't even recall what i said to him.
i do know he ended up sleeping on the couch and did not say good bye to me this morning.

any thoughts???
*************************************************************************
RETRACTION:
After an entire night and day of being really pissed at the hubby, he came home last night and in the course of our heated conversation revealed that the above mentioned ring tone was used for ALL incoming calls (except the house phone).

OHHHHHH!!!! we both say in unison. so he's off the hook.

and i will remove this post in about 24 hours - just wanted to set the record straight before i did.

*****************************************************************
POST POST RETRACTION:
Hubby came home from work yesterday and had me call his cell phone from my cell phone.
and what did it play? Just for me?
Brown Eyed Girl by Van Morrison. my self professed life long theme song.

i do believe he is out of the woods now...

meet Norma

this is Norma.

and her brand new TWIN babies.

(in my back yard)

we have been waiting on these boogers for at least two weeks now - just certain Norma was going to 'drop her calf' any day. imagine our surprise when she dropped TWO of them.

our neighbors cows graze our land. so technically, we have cow pastures around 3/4 of our home. so for the past two weeks, every time i went outside or drove away from the house, i'm like "where's Norma? has she had that baby yet? Nope, there she is - 8 ft long and 8 ft wide."

and yesterday, driving home from the Dr. - passing my neighbor's house, my neighbor, M, almost threw herself in front of my van to get my attention to stop. so i stopped, backed up and M tells me "Norma had her baby! TWINS!"

I gotta tell ya folks - that's pretty exciting around these parts.

Norma ain't just any cow. M raised her from a baby - abandoned on the side of the road - no nearby farmers one would claim her. So for M, that meant bottles every 4-6 hours for weeks/months. Norma is more like a child around here. ALL of M's cows (and Bull) have names. Norma's the only one I can identify and remember all the time. She is so tame and people friendly, she let me walk right up on her and her babies to take all kinds of pictures today.

This is Cody - he was jealous Norma was getting all the attention...

Camera Hog!

So congratulations Norma.

Ya done good!

I'm gonna miss days like this - when we move back to the city...

i feel a rant coming on...

and i fear it's going to be a good one.

(and for the record - this has absolutely nothing at all whatsoever to do with my spouse. he has never even once been guilty of the following in my presence.)

it was either something i read on another blog, heard in a movie, saw in a magazine. i cannot remember. (which really annoys me) but it has had me stewing for a few days now.

but if there is one statement/mentality that really chaps my you-know-what, it's this...

"man, she really let herself go after getting married and having kids."

usually followed by other such heinous comments, as

"yeah, she used to be really hot."
"what a shame/waste"

it makes me want to absolutely scream and pull their testicles off.

and i can only speak from my experience. but here's how i see it...

yeah, well i was hot once too. before i was married. before i had kids.
when i worked nights and could spend 2 hours a day in the gym.
i was one RED hot smoking momma - by anyone's standards.

the problem with that, you see, is that my body does not have a tendency towards naturally SLIM or an ATHLETIC disposition.
to be smoking hot - i had to work my you-know-what off for it.
i had to starve. and i LOVED it.
at that time in my life. hey, all i had to worry about was me, me, me.
and i was exceptional at it.

and while i do not hold my marriage and children responsible for the decline of my physical condition, they sure as hell didn't help.

i got married.
i quit smoking - which i still miss some days.
i got a real job. days. no more nights.
40 hours a week and then some.
this man expected me to cook hot meals for him.
do my laundry AND his.
keep the house clean.
mow the yard.

sure, i can bring home the bacon.
fry it up in a pan.
and then some.

but so much for me me me...

but what i have found over the years, is this:
i can take care of my home, my spouse, my kids, my job, the yard, shopping, homework, school plays, holidays, car pool, and the tooth fairy.
and after all that, i come last.
it's not a conscious decision i made.
to put moi at the bottom of the To Do List.
it's not a decision that was forced upon me by anyone.
but it happened.

so my naturally not slim body - while it has carried me through - bears witness to the three children i carried in it. to the three babies i nursed. to all the hot, home cooked meals i prepared. to the fast food bought when i was too wiped to cook. to the nights when i was too beat to move, much less exercise.

and hell no, i ain't getting up early to exercise. my youngest is three and I JUST NOW for the first time in 8 plus years get to sleep all night, most nights. at this rate, i'll still be sleep deprived in 2009.

so to those self-absorbed, misguided men out there who still have their testicles, i say this -

if that woman gave birth to your children, cooks meals for you, makes your dentist appointments, phones in your blood pressure refills, sends christmas cards every year to friends and all of your family - even the ones you can't remember their names - then she hasn't "let herself go" - you fool.


she simply let go of herself.
and one day she is going to find that self.
and you'll be lucky if your sorry butt ain't kicked to the curb in the process.

okay.
now i feel better.

Post Note:

Big Pissy sent me this Link to another recent article on this very topic. as she put it, it is an exceptional "companion piece" to my rant.

one down one to go

so i survived the first night of racing.

sometime before the race, my pa-in-law says to me -
"tcole, it's been like 2 or 3 years since you've been out here."

i smiled, nodded and thought to myself...
"ahhhh, yes, those (last two or three years) were the good old days..."

but you can't beat a race track for people watching.
no lack of entertainment there. woooweeee.

and food and booze. if you want to pay $6 for a plastic bottle of Miller Lite.
in college, we had two types of beer. Miller Lite and Free.
my, how times have changed...
beer snob that i am, you couldn't pay me $6 to drink a Miller Lite from a plastic bottle.
i'll take a Sam Adams, please. in a glass bottle or nice frosted pilsner glass.

my resistance was strong on the food and booze.
i am trying to keep the 12 pounds i lost with the gall bladder surgery at bay.
so i passed on the $4 snow cone.
the $8 pizza and the $6 nachos.

and then i saw it.
the $4 turtle cheesecake frozen and dipped in dark chocolate on a stick.
called a wedgee. (not kidding)

COME TO MOMMA!
resistance be damned...

yes, we are going back tonight.
and yes, I have my $4 tucked away for another slice of heaven on a stick.

this is going to get me in so much trouble...

but i must write about it anyway.

my family (in-laws) own 8 Personal Seat Licenses (PSLs) at Texas Motor Speedway (TMS).
two of these PSLs belong to hubby and me.
so we are obligated to buy two season tickets each year.
last year we sold the entire season - for all eight seats - on ebay.

this year, no such luck. not on ebay or craig's list. dammit. dammit. dammit.

so tonight, i am going to TMS to "enjoy" the NASCAR truck race with my hubby, pa-in-law and my two young children. maybe a brother-in-law and few young cousins sprinkled in as well.

neither of my two children have been to the races before. odds are at least one - maybe both of them - will HATE it.

it's an hour and a half drive one-way to the track.

and how do i feel about this upcoming family adventure?

i'd rather watch paint dry.
whilst having my toe nails pulled out slowly.
one by one.
and listening to Barney sing "I Love You"

and then we get to go back tomorrow night for more.

i can't stand having this much fun in one weekend.
it's killing me
really

embrace the mundane

mundane.

humdrum.

ordinary.

boring.

not words i would attach to my life over the past 8 months or so.

but last week was fabulously mundane.
deliciously humdrum
refreshingly ordinary
downright boring

and i loved every single unremarkable, forgettable minute of it.

a heartfelt thanks to my dear friend who read my last few entries and emailed me wishing me a mundane week.
it was just lovely.

here's wishing for another one...

falling apart...

am i really this old?
old enough for my body (and mind) to be failing me so?

SPOILER: the following entry contains a serious dose of whining and semi-graphic medical info.

my stomach is torn up from all the meds i have been taking over the past month. starting with the antibiotic and pain pills when they started my root canal. have been in the bathroom no less than 24 times so far this morning.

speaking of antibiotics, my body has done what most female bodies do when they take a variety of antibiotics over a month's period. yeah, that uh, infection. down there. CRIPES!

had my root canal/crown finished up yesterday. my right jaw is sore up to my ear. not about to take anything for it as i don't want to upset my stomach any further.

had to take my son with me to the dentist yesterday. no where else to put him. so the staff gave him crayons and paper to play with while i was being drilled and beat upon. he doesn't like paper so much. he much prefers to use crayons and permanent markers on walls. especially if those walls are not mine and are covered with expensive looking wallpaper.

so after all the trauma of the mouth work, i had to run down the road to the grocery, get one of those Mr. Clean magic eraser sponge things (that REALLY do work) and go back and rid the wall of my son's art work. how humiliating.

started a huge test plan yesterday at work that i am dreadfully behind on. got about 1/3 of the way through it. only to find out this morning that i was in the wrong environment. back to square one. stupid, t_cole. really stupid.

if i were a horse, a responsible cowboy would take me out back and shoot me.
know any responsible cowboys?

is is monday yet?

in the event you have been anxiously awaiting what the next chapter of my over dramatized life would be...



wonder no more.


i got sick as a dog the end of last week.

fever, head and chest congestion.

dr's office on Friday afternoon.



horse pill antibiotics, decongestants and antihistamines all weekend.




better today.
still coughing. still stopped up. but NO fever.


it's amazing how cruddy a stinking fever can make you feel.

summer is right around the corner. lurking.

ready to jump out and beat the crap out of me.

this is my last week of peace and quiet without the kids home for at least three months.


Savvy comes home from Mississippi this next weekend. will take me at minimum three weeks to get the "I AM THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE SO WORSHIP ME" attitude out of her little body. They always come home from the grandparents with this attitude thing.

Thanks Mom. Dad. 'preciate that.

not.

now Sam goes for two months.

my goal would be to sell our house and move in those two months. cross your fingers. pray. light candles. send some good mojo - whatever it is you do. i have got to get this move done before i lose my mind! This having to keep my house clean at all times in case someone wants to come look at it is SUCKING THE LIFE OUT OF ME.

other than that,

i'm fine.

really.

what i learned in jury duty this week

do not consume (an) alcoholic beverage(s) and then operate a motor vehicle in a public place on or about ANY date in ANY county in ANY state.

EVER.

and if you do, be prepared to testify in an open court on what you had to eat, where you ate, who you ate with, what time you got there, what time you left, what you were wearing, who you talked to, etc.

because even if you are not intoxicated (as defined by the letter of the law) and have a wreck - you will automatically be assumed to be intoxicated by law enforcement. as you probably should be.

and then you will have to hire a very expensive, very good lawyer to defend you in open CRIMINAL court in front of rank strangers who will - invariably, whilst deciding your innocence or guilt - make judgements on your life, character, parenting ability, et al.

if i learned nothing else this week - a beer or two with dinner out is simply not worth the potential trouble.
not worth the trouble at all. the cost. the humiliation. the emotional angst.

you can heed my advice or find out for yourself...

and one other thing - consider this free legal advice

If you are ever administered a field sobriety test and you are NOT intoxicated:
1. assume it is being video-taped
2. you are 'graded/scored' on the test not ONLY by how you perform, but by how well you listen to the test instructions. For ex., if the officer tells you to place your feet a certain way and stand that way through out the instruction phase, STAND THAT WAY. Do not move a muscle - as that could/will count against you.
3. if you do not COMPLETELY understand the instructions given before you begin the test - ASK QUESTIONS.
4. blood test for BAC are more accurate than a breath sample. and take longer.

if you ARE intoxicated - nothing personal - but i hope you fail the test miserably.

save us all from what i (we) went through this week

to further prove my point

after my last post - within 30 minutes - i hopped in my van and headed off to jury duty.
before i was a mile away from my home...
FLAT TIRE.

Huge Honking Nail - dare i say SPIKE - in my right rear tire.

I was dropping my son off at my friend's house.
Her hubby is the new preacher at our church.
She wakes him up to come help me change the flat.

THANK GOD! no pun intended.
(note to self - be a preacher in next life - they get to sleep-in on school days.)

I tell him, as he walks out - "I am a died-in-the-wool Drama Queen and you just need to know - Preacher or not - you are likely to hear some colorful language in the next 15 minutes."

to my recollection - i only uttered one four letter word. Hell.
He's heard that one before.