Thursday, February 25, 2010


are you ever uncomfortable in your own skin?
today, i am.
do you ever put something on and then immediately regret it when you leave the house?
today, i did.
i have major anxiety issues and obviously some going on with my self esteem, too. i wore something new today at work. and it looks fine, i guess. but it includes stepping out of my norm, my shell, my comfy that i love so much.

i have on knee high boots.

i have never worn knee high boots with out full length pants. (my mother reminds me that i did wear white go-go boots while performing in college with dance teams but, that is so not the same.) and today i decided (or had a lapse in judgment) that i would wear these knee high boots with a skirt. a shorterish type skirt.
i feel like i look like a kindergarten teacher on crack or something. seriously. in the comfort of my own home, i thought this outfit would work. i mean, how hard could this be, right? i sit at a desk for 8 loooonnnggg hours. but the longer i am forced to remain in public view...the more uncomfortable i become. i get paranoid; as if people can see into my mind, view my thoughts, and silently laugh at what i am thinking.
i know, i know. this is unrealistic.
but it's true. it's how i feel. it's how my day is going.

sometimes, i wish i could get a handle on the whole "i don't care what people think of me and can do whatever i want" thing. cause it doesn't stop at my clothes. i worry about everything and not just the physical. i worry about conversations i haven't even had yet, but may need to be prepared for at a later date. i worry about emails i send that may not have the right tone. i worry about cutting a driver off in traffic and if he'll remember me next time we pass through life on the same road. i wonder...and worry. all the time.

the other night, i had a strange revelation. i had a visitor that night. and my visitor had a phone call. my visitor in MY house-told me not to say anything while they were on the phone. for what? that's total crap. you have to hide the fact that you are at my house? i have to be quiet so you can what, 'safely' have this conversation? what would happen if i decided to yell out or heck, say, anything? how would that adversely affect the conversation you are having? ugh!
i could have screamed. but instead i just told the visitor that i thought it was absolute BS that i had to shut my mouth while they were on the phone AT MY HOUSE. and then it got uncomfortable. the living room seemed smaller. the couches were scooting closer together, quickly. and my revelation was-why do we change ourselves for the benefit of other people? why are there so many versions of ourselves?

i'm working on me. i am a work in progress. i tell myself these things everyday. i want an identity of my own. i don't want to just be his wife, her mom, or his mom. i want to be me. but i don't really know who that is.
i know who i pretend to be at work.
i know who i pretend to be when i'm out and about.
i know who i pretend to be around certain 'friends.'
i have all of these versions of me.
when really... all i want is one version.
to be the same, everyday.
to be normal-whatever the hell that may be.

and i get it. i get that we all have bad days, off days, happy days, sad days, and all the other days in between. but, isn't there anyone out there who really knows who they are?

surely they must exist.

i plan on being one.
cause i'm a work in progress.
and i am sick of being uncomfortable.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010


my daughter's conversation of the day:

n: Mommy, can i have a sister? I really want a sister"
me: baabbyyy, i think lizzie doll is the perfect sister for you! (lizzie doll is her favorite...she talks)
n: yeah, but lizzie doll doesn't have good conversation.

all i could do is laugh!

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

growing pains

i love my dog.
i really do.
i love my husband.
i really do.
really, i do.

my husband decided to let roxee out yesterday morning when he left so she could play in the backyard while the kids and i got dressed. how sweet! i didn't even have to ask! :)


i guess that didn't cross his mind as he left. ugh. i didn't realize it had rained either...until i let my roxee in the house. she was prancing through Norie's room, spinning through the hallway, chasing MP to the living room and rolling around on the carpet throughout. and i was looking for her collar. where is her collar?!

oh. ha.

it's on her. the flourescent hot pink collar was now black. from mud. and goo. and nasty. it was black. roxee was covered in filth. she was devising an exit strategy from the back yard apparently.
the time is now 7:05 AM. i MUST leave the house by 7:20 AM to be on time at work. the kids and i are in our pajamas. and i now have dirty carpet and a dirty dog and dirty specks of mud every where. operation cleansofast begins now.
roxee in the tub.
roxee cleaned off (almost).
kids playing in mommy's bathroom while she cleans roxee.
roxee out of the tub.
MP touches roxee as she passes by now sans dirt.
MP laughs.
roxee comes back in the bathroom to shake off.
roxee has strange finger streaks of white on her newly washed coat.
MP laughs harder and rubs his hands together.
MP hands me a tube of kid sunscreen.
sunscreen all over MP's hands.
sunscreen is the strange finger streaks of white on roxee.
wash MP's hands.
rinse myself off.
dress self.
comb kid hair.
did i brush my teeth?
brush teeth.
thank goodness it's pajama day at Ms. T's!

7:22 AM
we're out the door.
i forgot something.
i just know it!
what is it?
i dunno.
guess i'll find out later.
it was my very important tax document i needed to mail.
good thing i'm filing early!

we made it out alive.
and in record time!
that's all that matters.
sigh. inhale. exhale.
what a morning!

in other MP is growing up. sunday morning, he woke up, went straight to the bathroom and took his diaper off. he sat down on his potty. and tried. he really really tried!
my husband was sweet enough to let me sleep in so i didn't get to witness this big boy moment. :(
however, he did run around sans diaper for almost 2 whole hours and didn't have an accident! he's ready for potty training! my sweet little baby isn't so much a baby anymore. (sadness overcomes me)
the other side of this sadness coin lies a very lucrative more DIAPERS to buy! well, not immediately, but soon...i hope.
my big man even sat on the potty last night before bathtime and sprinkled a little in there! we were so proud! a little sprinkle of victory! (ha, that cracks me up!) now...if we can just get him to understand that when/if he runs around naked that roxee thinks his um, you know, man part, is something to bite and that it would be painful if she acted on this impulse that she has already tried out but missed once. cause right now, he thinks it's a rite of passage to let it all hang out. he'll learn. hopefully not painfully, but he will learn.

and that my friends in a nutshell is the last three blog drafts rolled all into one. i may have to do some editing later...but for now, you got your fix. ;)

Thursday, February 18, 2010


well good morning dolls! it is quite the early morning for me. work at 5AM should be banned from my eternity. on the flip side though, getting off before 2PM is pretty much gonna rock. although, it would be nice to be an and dad there is still time for y'all to build an empire and devote all the money to your 3 girls! you could totally pull that off!

alright, enough chatty cathy. i wanted to follow up on yesterday's post. me and my girl have kissed and made up. it actually happened that night; albeit i still didn't feel good about the day's events that horrifically unfolded earlier, hence boo hoo was born. anyways, while putting her to bed she asked to say our prayer. it's usually the same one every night:

"Dear God, Thank you for my family. Thank you for my friends. I love you very much. Amen."

I'm not sure where it came from, but that's pretty much the nite-nite prayer script at our house. my creative genius of a daughter thought our prayer needed to include a few more items that night:
1. mama, please pray for my drum that daddy threw in the fire. i need a new one. (this 'drum' was an empty cardboard box that didn't know how to be shared)
2. mama, please pray for my dance class. i need to go back now.
3. mama, please pray for God to make shrimp seeds so we can grow them in our vegetable garden. i need them to make me grow bigger.
wow! i had to hold back the laughter. but the prayer felt a little more honest once we got in all those requests. bless it! she's a good one, that girl.

on the MP front, well, he's been fairly mellow lately. 'reading' his books, playing with his roxeegirl (she and he-in love those two-roxee is most definitely MP's girl), coloring LOTS of pictures and generally being adorable. ganma did tell me a delightful story about my children's sibling love yesterday. so, from what i understand, ganma, Norie and MP were sitting on the couch and each had a book to read. Norie decides MP doesn't need to hold the book he has because of some reason or another. so she swipes it. MP was NOT happy with his sissy's choice of movements and pulls one out of his own. (ganma says MP figured he couldn't reach sissy so he had to get creative) he SPIT at her-venomous spit! as if to say, 'if i could have spit directly into your eyeball, i would've. i hope it stings, sissy.'
bwahhahahhhahaaa! good thing i wasn't there. i'm quite certain my giggle box would have turned over for an extended time frame that could be deemed inappropriate. ganma, of course, told him 'Man Man! No! We don't spit. That's not nice.' he responded with a cold shoulder and staring fiercely off into the far corners of the room. i sooo wish you could all see his 'i'm not paying attention to you and i could injure you with these eyes' face. it's a classic. i love that boy. he's coming into his own...quickly. *squeal* which reminds me, he has a birthday coming up! 'tis all for now my friends, i gotta get my snake man's party planned.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

boo hoo

first off, sorry for the delay in posts. these past few days have been rough for me. secondly, this may be too personal of a post. but i need to vent. i really need to vent.

do you ever feel like you suck at if you just can't grasp the concept of exactly what it is that you're trying to achieve?
i do. there are a lot of things for me that make me feel this way, right now, it's being a mom. i have been feeling defeated A LOT. i'm terrible at this whole mediocre-mommidom, even worse at normal-mommidom and the worst at super-mommidom. i see all of these other mommies and they rock at this. they are patient, creative, pleasant, never complain and don't yell-EVER.

we were at the grocery store yesterday. my sweet babies were riding in the red 'racecar cart' (their favorite) and were doing fine. then, MP didn't want to share his monkey with his sissy. they fight. they hit. they yell. everyone is staring. i quietly try to intervene, explain the importance of sharing and let them know we won't be here much longer. it works, for about 7 seconds. they start again. pushing. squealing. fighting. i try a different approach.
if you can't be sweet and share the monkey then mommy will hold it until we're back in the car. all hell breaks loose. to them, this is not acceptable behavior for mommy. finally, we're finished shopping. FINALLY. (but not before the entire store knows that i am a horrible excuse for a human being and moreover, a mommy because my children are throwing mini-tantrums in public and i have not done enough to hedge these reckless acts of rebellion.)

Norah screams at me the entire way home. pounding me with insults and ear piercing sounds that beat on my self esteem. how does a 3 year old effect your self esteem? i know she is just a baby. lashing out because something didn't go her way. my head knows this, but my heart aches. she is instructed to go directly to her room when we arrive home because this behavior will not be tolerated.

she slams the door, teenage style, with rage in her heart. after a few minutes, i check on her and ask if she's ready to come out.
NO! she screams. i don't want you. i don't like you. i do NOT want your company! i do not want to live in this house. i want to live with grandma. get out!
My reply is meek, i am sorry you feel this way. once you calm yourself down, we'd be happy to see you. i quietly shut the door. she begins screaming-this noise. it seems so foreign coming out of such a precious baby. and it sounds so...real. like she is truly feeling this madness that escapes from her tiny mouth into primal sound. i'm angry at her. my heart hurts.

several more minutes pass by. i check on her once more. she's playing in her room and doesn't notice me walk in. i sit down on the bed. she lashes out at me...again. i think to myself; i will NOT allow a 3 year old run my house; i can't stand this! i yell at her. i tell her she is being selfish. i tell her to straighten up. quit that crying or mommy will really give you something to cry about. you have everything little girl! stop acting this way!
she's crying. she's hurt.
i'm crying. i'm hurt.
i slam the door.
why would i do that? she doesn't deserve this. she deserves better than me. more than i have been giving her. her reactions and actions are a direct result of the examples put forth by her adult guardians. me. she's acting like me.

whoa, i need to take a minute. a minute alone. i head to the bathroom. MP is pacified by daddy right now. it's the perfect time for a breath. i stare at myself in the mirror. i look crazy. i feel crazy. my eyes are riddled with-with what? i can't transmit the wild-eyed look into a word or emotion. i cry. a sob shakes my body. i feel weak-weak minded.
get it together, i tell myself. NOW.

sometimes, i am exhausted by my children. i think they think i am a joke. they don't listen to me. they don't follow my directions. they don't they don't they don't...
have i not taught them how to correctly behave?
have i not loved them enough?
have i not been a good enough example?
in my mind, the answers to all of these questions are NO. you have not taught them enough. you have not loved them enough. you have been a terrible and measly excuse for an example because unfortunately…this scene is not new. it’s happened before. and that sucks. it sucks bad.

i don't want your pity.
i want a new slate.
i want to start over.
i want. i want. i want.
i'm selfish.

my children and i-we'll be fine. mommy just needs to take a few more minutes in the mirror...looking…searching...analyzing...defining...who I am.
because my little sponges don't need to soak up anymore of this negativity.
my little sponges, need me.
and i need my little sponges.
together, we will make a better woman. a better mom. a better wife. a better friend. a better life.
together... this will be the last scene of it’s kind.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010


Think left and think right and think low and think high. Oh, the thinks you can think up if only you try!
~Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Thinks You Can Think!

my babies have vivid, non-stop, outrageously fantastic imaginations. just recently, Norah, has decided that she has a baby in her belly, that she will soon need a husband to pay the bills, that her Magna Doodle is her homework pad, and that a cat jumps over her bed in the middle of the night and he (the cat) scares her. this cat thing has been happening frequently for a few weeks now. we don't have a cat. we don't like cats at our house. we don't know anyone with a cat (well, aunt j and her kids have one but we don't ever see it).
so where is this coming from? i mean, how can a little girl that so loathes the aloof feline take such a keen interest in 'Garfield: The Movie'? let me tell you about this cat.
right before bed most nights, we all curl up on the couch. we tell each other jokes and giggle. it's a happy time. then, Norah says:
"i don't like cats, mom. i can't sleep in my bed tonight cause this cat will jump over my bed and scare me."
"Oh baby, mommy and daddy won't let that cat scare you. we promise. and where is this cat coming from?"
N: outside my room.
me: outside your room or outside your house?
N: outside my room.
we usually have this same conversation until i get frustrated and tell her, Baby, there are no cats in this house. i will NOT let a cat come in your room and jump over your bed. now, it's night-night time, i'll carry you to your room and tuck you in. come on, sweetheart." and finally she'll pacify me and let me carry her like an infant to her room.
but these explanations are never good enough for her. how else do you explain that A) this is probably just a dream you are having and mommy is sorry that it scares you or B) your imagination is running wild and that's a good thing?
any thoughts? i'll wait... simmer on that one and get back to me soon.

now, MP. he can't quite verbalize what or where his imagination is going or seeing, yet. so, i like to watch him a lot to see how it's working out for him. i've noticed he really enjoys his closet. it's like a make-shift fort. it's fairly large and the closet walls are lined with shelves on one side and halfway lined with shelves on the other. in the middle of the closet is a type of bookcase thingy. and every possible nook and cranny is filled to the brim with toys, BOY toys. it's pretty neat in there actually. but, can you imagine what this must look like to my toddler? it's a wonderland! i've seen his eyes light up as he walks through-soaking in all the colors and textures and shelves. (i know now he looks at the shelves with such awe because he can climb them-almost to the top-terrifying!) i've seen him read his dinosaurs books. i've witnessed a train racing a bulldozer. i've watched his ride-on dump truck become a stepping stool to reach his puzzles. (i had to intervene on that one. i couldn't have him falling, now could i?)
i've spotted a dragon sliding down a 3-tiered parking garage. i've noticed he knows where every single toy is in that closet, at all times.

i soooo want to immerse myself in my children's thoughts and views of the world around them. i want to be able to feel what they feel, see what they see, filter the world just as they do...
but, i can't. therefore, i must rely on my detective skills and keep my ears open for them to show see and feel and filter. and be resolute in helping to cultivate their imaginations.


roxee is a ham.
well, she's a dog ham.
i mean...she's a dog that's a ham; meaning, she really loves attention.
she's also RIDICULOUSLY hyper. but i caught her lying down on the job yesterday...
c'mon, let's all say it together...aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!

dang it. i can't get my words to left align. they are stuck in center. i don't like that. ok, i think i fixed the problem.

anyways, back to roxee. she's a pretty awesome dog. and the kids are smitten with her! they like to give her nicknames. sometimes, she can be called 15 names in one night. :) adorable.
here's a little run down:
baby girl
my girl
foxy roxee

yep. roxeedelicious is the newest nickname. norah dubbed this appropriate.
i wonder if she realizes in some countries, people really do eat dog? i should probably leave that to myself.
this is a boring post. i just wanted to show off the picture of my girls.
blar. i think i have writer's block or something.

Thursday, February 4, 2010


My sweet cousin, Cohen, is in desperate need of ample medical coverage. Cohen was diagnosed with Autism at an early age, he's non-verbal and has terrible digestive problems associated with this diagnosis. He and his parents are having a awfully difficult time affording life, medical bills, therapy, medication, speech devices, etc.  The government office responsible for taking care of the disabled and under-insured, MS Medicaid, has blatantly lied to my wonderful family. LIED!

Cohen's family keeps a beautiful blog of his progress but unfortunately, their most recent post is horrific!
I've included below both the text from today's post and a link to Cohen's blog.
Become a follower, post your comments, help us take a stand!
Please, don't pity them. FIGHT with them; FIGHT FOR THEM! THEY DESERVE BETTER!
Let's help their voice be heard!

Thanks in advance sweet friends.

Part 3 of the Medicaid/Disability Battle
I apologize in advance for the rant... So, yesterday morning, I was on the phone with the Director of the Madison County Medicaid Office.
Let me back up, in order for Cohen to be eligible for Medicaid, he first has to be ruled disabled by the State of Mississippi, which I think is ridiculous. He has been ruled disabled by state twice already - once for the First Steps program (which was about as big of a pain and little of a help as this has been) and the public school system. Madison County public schools already ruled him somewhat disabled, because he has been placed in a school strictly for special needs kids. Anyway, once ruled disabled, the application passes through the department of Maternal Child Health (I think that is right, they are never really clear on this), which has something to do with the fact that our income is greater that the maximum allowed for Medicaid, which is outrageous. (Chad and I would BOTH have to quit our jobs, get on unemployment, all 3 of us on Medicaid and food stamps in order for Cohen to be eligible based on income alone. Ridiculous.) Then it is passed on the Medicaid office - this whole process is supposedly a 90-day event.
Anyway, back to call... to make a long story short. She told me that the application and mounds of paperwork and photocopied of SS cards and birth certificates and doctor's notes and evaluations - all the information that took me around 4-6 weeks to prepare had never been filed, and that she somehow was lacking a gray form and a copy of Cohen's birth certificate - both of which I knew I had included in the original documentation. I was so angry, I was shaking, but I tried to keep my cool on the phone... his paperwork was never filed. His application was never filed. Never filed. All those calls and visits I made to the office just to check in and see how things were going in the process, I was lied to. Flat out lied to. They told me to wait my 90 days... it is Christmas holidays, things get backed up... I am sure it is being worked on... you'll hear something, etc. Well, 90 days passed and I had not heard the first thing, not the first thing other than what I had called and requested information on. So 90 days, I called my liar of a caseworker, and he told me Cohen was denied. Another big, fat LIE, because nothing was ever filed. On top of that, he told me I couldn't file again within a year, which is absurd. I guess he was just hoping that I would forget about it or perhaps he would another job by then and not have to deal with me... boy, was he wrong.
So, I told the director, I would be glad to drive all the way up to Canton and bring Cohen's birth certificate and fill out that one form she was lacking. So, I did... I also took Cohen's 4-inch notebook of medical records with me, just in case. And surprise, surprise, I needed that as well.
I got to the office, and (I will try to keep this short, but it was a lengthy visit) come to find out, they "lost" all of the paperwork - all the mounds of paperwork and applications and doctor's notes and evaluations and copies of my driver's license and our SS cards and birth certificates. ALL OF IT. All of the information that took me weeks to prepare. It just vanished. UGH!
And they lied to me about it for 90 days. Flat out lied to me about it for 90 days. All they had to do early in the game was give me a call and let me know the paperwork had been misplaced and let's get another set together. I would have been a little upset, but nothing like this. Instead, I was lied to for 90 days, and then another 2 weeks actually. Our lives literally hung in the balance in for 3 months... awaiting medical coverage for our son for his speech device and therapies and an MRI next week. Things that are not covered by our private insurance due to his autism diagnosis. Things that we cannot afford. Yes, Chad and I both work, but we don't make enough money to manage our lives and pay our cost of living bills and the exorbitant amount of medical and therapy bills for Cohen that insurance does not cover. I have said before, and I will say it again, but we are hard working, well educated, tax paying citizens, and WE DESERVE medical care for our child in some form or fashion.
Back to the meeting, our lives hung in limbo for those 3 months... we were waiting to get Cohen his AAC device and trying to figure out how were going to afford therapy all summer, since there is no option for summer school for him. Therapy at $65/25 minutes adds up quick, and Medicaid would cover that, as well as the speech device we already purchased out of pocket and everything else we deal with on a day-to-day basis, the medications and therapies and tests. While we were checking the mail everyday, hopeful that something would tell us we were approved (we have been told by every doctor, therapist and specialist that Cohen is eligible and should be on Medicaid), they never even filed it, and LIED the whole time.
And now my paperwork is missing... I guess I need to get our social security numbers on some sort of watch list for identity theft, because no one knows where all my paperwork is. All of Cohen's hospital records and test results and doctor's notes are gone! Violation of HIPPA? I think so...!
To wrap this up, the director let me basically yell at the liar for about 15 minutes. He barely even apologized. He should be fired. Actually, no, he should have wait in fear that he is going to be fired for 90 days, and then told that he was going to get to keep his job, and lied to about that for a couple of weeks, then he should fired.
Not sure how the director was notified of the situation - she said someone called her, but would not give her source. So, I guess I did something right.... wrote a letter or made a phone call somewhere along the way that sparked some initiative. So thank you to whoever is helping me. I really appreciate it.
But the situation is not resolved. Is this how we have to get health care for our kids? Cohen still is in the same boat as he has been for the past couple of years. Chad and I still have to pay the majority of his medical expenses out of pocket. I still work three jobs to make that happen. This is not how it should be. We are still in limbo not sure what we need to do, what is best for Cohen... it is looking like a move to Florida to a private school for autism. Did you know Florida passed the Autism reform bill... forcing private insurance to pay up to $36K/year in autism-coded medical bills? They also have a scholarship for kids with special needs to utilize in the event the public schools don't meet their needs. They give you money to send you kid to a private school just for their special disability. Sure would be nice if the state with one of the worst schools systems and worst America's Health Ranking in the US would step up and make a difference in the lives of these kids and their families.

Ok, must get to work now… have to pay the bills.

finger touches

it's the little things that you love and cherish the most, isn't it?
memories from childhood you hold tight.
daily routines with your angels.
smells. touches. textures.
your favorite t-shirt that's ripped and torn and- you get the picture.

i witnessed one of these moments yesterday, several actually.
my hubby came home early from out of town and i picked him up from his shop in the early afternoon. the first thing i saw was his smile, i love his smile.
it's the little things.

we went and got the children from Ms. T's house shortly after. they knew he was coming home and had been talking about it non-stop. when we walked in, they were busy being kiddos, not paying attention to much except their friends. they saw daddy. squeals! sweet dimples are glowing, eyes are shining, arms are wrapping and holding on tight. their little legs are working hard to climb up the big daddy mountain. oh, the delight!
daddy is beaming. you can feel his smile radiating from across the room.
his smile. i love his smile.
it's the little things.

we had to stop at the gas station and pick up a few things on the way home. daddy gets out, goes in the store, walks back to the car and he stops at Mark Patrick's window. daddy presses his pointer finger against the glass.
instinctively, Mark Patrick's tiny pointer meets his daddy's finger perfectly on the opposite side of the glass. they both laugh. daddy says, "Man-man, I've missed that every single day I've been away."
he smiles. i love his smile.
it's the little things.

we've been home a while now. Norie is snuggled up with her dah-tee. (she likes to pretend like she's little, sometimes; when she's not acting 25) i see him smell her hair, caress her little face. she scoots a little closer- just a little closer. daddy makes us all feel just a bit safer, more secure, protected.
he smiles.
i. love. his. smile.

i don't have to travel with my job. i see these precious sparkles of light our children give us, everyday. i've never had to be away; never had to miss these moments that stop our hearts with bursts of love. and it made me wonder...why is it so hard to immerse ourselves in these bright flashes of life, in the moment, as they happen, everyday?
for me, i've realized, it's time. i rush through life-organizing, cleaning, cooking, disciplining, working, re-organizing, working, cleaning, cooking, chauffeuring, doctoring, feeding, washing, working, cleaning, cooking...
i'm gonna be certain today-to slow down the madness. take inventory. prioritize. sweep away the unnecessary. apply the moment, to the moment.

we missed daddy.
he missed the little things.
finger touches.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010


I don't have a lot to say today guys...I'm on the verge of squealing to be honest.
My husband comes home today. One week and one day early!
Stay tuned...more hilarious moments to come!

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

tid bits

if you haven't noticed...i'm a bit of a scatter brain. i've been trying all morning to get some semblence of a post together-i keep coming up short. so here, in all it's befuddled glory are tid bits from last night:
-the kids wanted a moist and delicious cupcake for their afternoon snack. i gave in. i usually don't let them have something that decadent and filling before dinner...but everyone needs a little indulgence-a treat for the soul, if you will. here's a window into that loveliness:
-i knew had to start dinner quickly; the pork roast was gonna take a while to cook. pre-heat oven, check. put field peas in pan, check. get out box-o-noodles, check. put roast in pyrex, check.

-roxee needs to do her thang, outside. she's talking fast, and jumping like kids do when they just can't hold it any longer. we went. we ran around. the kids are still reveling in chocolate heaven.
-time to start seasoning everything. i grabbed the pepper, nope-that would be mustard seeds. i tried again. pepper, shaken vigirously onto the peas. huh, pepper is black and that is...NUTMEG!? (fail) i decided looking at the seasoning might make this less painful. pepper is found, opened up-shook on to the peas. oops, the wrong side is open. pepper was poured into the peas. (fail)
-oven's ready. pork roast is slipped into the, ARGH! i left the cupcakes in the oven? ha, yeah, i guess i did. OOPS! cupcakes are now a gooey mess of nasty. (fail)
-play time for the kiddies. they love play time. Norie selects the art easel for her creative canvas tonight, the dry erase marker board side. MP makes room for himself at the easel as well. FUN!
-MP is such a thoughtful little man! He gave himself a green dry erase marker mustache and then gave one to the bathroom door! (i tried to get a picture but as soon as i got the camera out his "I am in so much trouble" tears ruined the mustache)
-Tennie and Papaw come over to change the carport "lightbug." Norah, MP and Rox are estatic! company at 7 PM! it must be a holiday! MP decides to show off his dare-devil skills, fearlessly jumping from the "otterman" to the "crouch." it's hilarious. you should see it. he stands on the otterman, desperately trying to keep his balance on the mushy underfoot, takes a deep breath, bends his knees, and launches himself. only half of his body seems to make the leap, everytime. head on crouch, feet dangling to the floor. it's bliss for him.
-bedtime. good times. roxee and i are on the couch. kids are tucked away in their beds. roxee hasn't been feeling well for the past few weeks, poor little four legged creature. she flips to her back. legs strrreeetttccchhhiinnnggg out-head flopping from side to side. adorable. look at me! aren't i cute! wanna play? watch, i can make you pet me. look at these eyes. aww, c'mon, give me some lovin. glad you're feeling better, girlfriend.
-bedtime. good times. letterman's on the tube. this creates the perfect atmosphere for...*snore*

Monday, February 1, 2010


We made cupcakes yesterday! The moist and scrumptious fun-fetti, chocolate covered kind. mmmm, muy muy delicious! We had a good time. Really, we did. The best part was eating them-for me anyways. I think the kids more enjoyed making them. They enjoyed stirring, pouring, tasting. LOTS of tasting. HA! The evening was filled with thoughts of "more cho-ate amorrow!"
Then morning came.
MP woke up around 4 AM. I think he heard me shut the door after taking Roxee out. He sped into my bedroom, squealing, "DAAAAAADDDDYYYYY!"
He looked in the bed, the bathroom, the closet. "DDAAAAADDDDYYY!"
"Daddy's not here buddy...come here, let mama snuggle you. Make you cozy."
He's crying now. Oh that hurts, oh man that hurts.
We fell asleep.

It's time to get up now. Blar. I don't wanna get up today.
Daddy called. He's in a hurry. Just has a quick minute to say "Good Morning!"
I decided that MP probably needed to hear from his daddy today after the early morning let down. I hand him the phone. Norie is patiently waiting for her turn. Daddy has to go. OH NO!
Tears ensue. Lots and Lots and LOTS of tears. Poor darling, mommy's here... But it's not the same, I'm not daddy.

We're in the car now, on the way to school. Norie "leeds" to call Papaw. He "leeds" to make her feel better. I hand over the phone.
I hear her angelic voice say, "I miss my daddy, Papaw." They talk, she's better. Thank GOD for Papaws. I can't take it when my babies hurt.
Finally, we're at school. The kids perk up cause we're at Ms. T's house!

I'm alone in the car; hot tears flow down my cheeks. I can't take it when my babies hurt. And then I realize, I hurt, too.
He's still in Florida. Their daddy. My husband.

And I miss him.