The Letter

I got a letter from Tweedle P's school the other day. The letter said a student in P's class had hand, foot, and mouth disease. Oh crap, I thought. Hopefully it is an outcast that she doesn't play with. Hopefully it is not one of the boys that chase her on the playground (and tackle her...in first grade) or her friend who she is attached at the hip with.

I asked P if there was a child in her class that was sick and didn't come to school and she said yes. Then I asked her which child it was. It was her best friend. Oh crap.

Me: P, did someone stay home sick from school today?

P: Um, I don't remember.

Me: P, it was 1 hour ago. Please think, did someone stay home sick today.

P: Um, I think maybe it was K. Oh yeah, K wasn't in school today.

Me: K is sick. Oh no. Mommy got a letter saying K has something that will make her very sick and she will miss school for a few days. Princess, did you share food or milk with K this week?

P: Mommy! K is my best friend. We always share our lunch!

Me: Oh crap.

P: What mommy?

Me: Oh, nothing Princess, just talking to myself.

Oh crap, she shared food with K who has hand foot and mouth. I spent the weekend waiting. Waiting for the sore throat, the sores, the rash, the fever. I had the meds all ready to go, laid out with dosing spoons ready to go. Waiting to drown her in meds and movies. I spent the days feeling her head for any sign of illness. Of course she will get sick, I thought, her brownie field trip is coming up, why wouldn't she get sick?

It never came. She was a dream most of the weekend, only putting up a fight when she was asked to clean her mess in the basement. She ate sesame chicken and chicken pot pie without whining! Okay, mostly without whining. Well, less whining that usual.

I took her to school yesterday and who did I see but K and her mom. What the...? I wasted my entire weekend wondering when P would get sick and K was fine??? So I asked her, I thought K was sick? Oh no mommy, I was just kidding! Tricked ya!

Seriously, what the fuck!?!***
In other news, I am pretty sure Tweedle C has bionic hearing. C still wears pull ups to bed and, at times, leaks all over the place. He got into bed on Saturday and proceeded to start whining about how bad his bed smelled because his pull up leaked. Why, my darling son, didn't you tell me, oh, 15 hours ago when you woke up? Why the hell did you wait until 9:00 at night?

So, I sent him into his sisters room and went to the closet to get some clean sheets. Of course, I realized the mattress pad would have to be washed so clean sheets was really a moot point. As I was realizing this I let a string of profanities that went something like stupid fucking sheets with stupid fucking pee all over them at stupid fucking 9 at night.

Now, I was not yelling this. As a matter of fact, I was muttering quite quietly. But, from out of nowhere, C yells, "Hey! Don't call me stupid!" I am pretty sure he didn't hear the fucking part because he never hears us talk like that so he probably couldn't make it out. I explained I wasn't calling him stupid, I was just upset that I never bought two mattress pads and now he needs to sleep with his sister.

I think my quiet muttering may have rubbed off on him because on Sunday, when I asked him to take off his pull up and throw it in the garbage, he walked away muttering, "Stupid mommy making me throw my pull up away and miss Diego." Huh, oops! He got time out. Maybe I should have gotten one too.

***okay, maybe I jumped to conclusions a little bit but this virus is nasty and it would have totally sucked to have it in our house.


Do you prefere you Elmo medium or Well done?

Last week, I decided I was craving sesame chicken. Whenever we go out for Chinese I order sesame chicken. Mmmm, I love me some sesame chicken. I would always try to recreate it at home but it was never the same...until this weekend. I found a recipe that was very different than what I had seen in the past. I decided I was going to make it for dinner on Friday and decided the kids were going to eat it, whether they like it or not. When I put dinner on the table and told them to sit down their little faces contorted into, um, really scary faces? Anyway, they asked what it was and, when I said sesame chicken, the wheels in their head started turning.

C: Ewww! What is this?

P: Why would you feed me this? If you had fed me macaroni and cheese I would have eaten 2 bowls without complaining.

C: Yeah, I don't want this.

Me: Eat it, it is chicken with rice. Mommy didn't put any of the spicy sauce on it, try it, you will like it.

C: What is it? It looks gross.

Me: Dude, would you like some cheese with the whine? It is sesame chicken.

P: (giggling) Like sesame street.

C: (also giggling) Yeah, like sesame street! Like Elmo!

P: (Laughing) Yeah, mommy made Elmo for dinner!

C: Mommy, is this Elmo?

Me: Yes, I took Elmo, cut off his leg, breaded it and fried it. You guys are eating Elmo.

P and C: Yeah Elmo!

P: C, let's eat our Elmo!

C: Yummy, Elmo!

They ate their Elmo and they loved it. I think tomorrow we will have cookie monster and maybe a little snuffleupagus on Wednesday. Check Tasty Treats for a great snuffy recipe.
Remember when we were desperately trying to get Tweedle P to pick an after school activity? Remember when she was insisting she was done with dance and wanted to take horseback riding lessons? Remember the happy but shaking dance Tweedle P did when I agreed to let her take horseback riding lessons? Yeah, um, remember how Tweedle can't stick with a decision if her life depended on it?

We were cruising around the net on Saturday and decided to pop over to her dance studio's website. We were looking around at pictures (she is on homepage!) and we happened upon a picture of her instructor. Holy crap did the tears start to flow. She started to say she had made a mistake and really wanted to take dance again. Well, being the brilliant mommy that I am, I knew this would happen and I never pulled her out of the class. Yup, I am a frickin' genius!

Just hours after she decided she missed ballet and wanted to take it again, we got a phone call from one of the instructors. Tweedle P had been invited to participate in a group dance in front of several professional dancers in a New York company. She will start to learn the dance next week and then perform in December. I'm pretty proud of her.

Ballet, tap, and jazz it is. I am happy because she is so good. And I'm not just being mommy proud, she really is very good. So I am happy that she is doing it and I love going to her recitals. It is just so cute. It is a lot of work and time consuming, but it is fun.
How do you know it is football season in the d'Orchidee household? You take your four year old shopping for shoes and pull a pair of orange and blue Champions off the shelf. These shoes have no sports affiliation, they are simply blue with a bit of orange trim. Here is how the conversation goes down:

I take the shoes off the shelf and ask what he thinks. He looks up at me in horror, as if I had just committed the ultimate sin. In a tone as serious as a 4 year old can be, he says, "Mommy, those are Bears cowors. We don't wear Bears cowors. Daddy says No Bears!!!!"

Only 5 more months of this. GOD HELP ME!
And, since this is supposed to be a blog about donating eggs, and I haven't blogged about that in weeks, I thought I should post an update. But, I don't have an update to post. I sent in my donor profile and that is where I stand. The nurse is supposed to review it and then call me to set up a pre-screening appointment or tell me I don't qualify. I can't decide if I should follow up with the clinic or give them a few more weeks. I am thinking I will give them a bit more time. I don't want to see too pushy. I don't like to seem pushy.
I know this post was a little jumpy but I hadn't posted in a few days and I had some catching up to do. Don't worry, you'll get over it.

Okay, I am going to make a little bedtime tea and try to get out of this going to bed at 1am crap that I have fallen into. I was shooting for 10:30 but it is 10:30 now so maybe I will shoot for 11.


Foto Friday (Updated)

Here is a different kind of Foto Friday. Enjoy!

Updated: I forgot to make these bad boys public so if you tired to get to them before and couldn't try again. PK has confirmed that it works. I know it works because I heard squeals of "Look how cute my godson is!" and "Oh, her ballet pictures." while on the phone with her tonight.


Its simply marbelous

Right now, as I type this post, I am watching Sex and the City. I know what you are all thinking, that my husband is a dream and promptly went out and bought the movie when I asked for it. Um, yeah, that didn't happen. PK needed to go shoe shopping for a wedding coming up and we decided to stop at Target quick to pick up a pair of shoes I wanted.

LOVE THESE SHOES!!! Anyway, we also picked up Sex and the City. I am a happy woman right now. New shoes! New movie! What could be better??

Okay, this post is not about the movie or the shoes (but aren't the movie and shoes exciting!), it is about marbles. This summer, I was feeling pretty crappy about things. The kids were wild little demons and I needed to come up with something to kick the demon habit. As I was lying in bed thinking about work, my mind drifted the to kids. I wanted to come up with a way to make them less like the spawn of the devil and more like the wonderful children I prayed I would have.

I thought about giving them money for doing chores and listening but I think it has been fairly well documented that I am really cheap and the last thing I wanted to do was shell out more money to the devil. Hell, I pay taxes, the devil gets enough of my money.

As my mind was wandering, I thought about the incentive program we have at work. Every time a money saving idea is submitted a marble gets put into a jar. When the jar is full, we get a party. I know, very high school, but very fun. Then it struck me, I can give the kids marbles for being good and just tell them that the marbles are worth money, 25 cents each to be exact.

So we made a poster full of the things that they should do everyday. You know, clear your dishes, turn out the lights, clean up your rooms, pick up your toys, the basics. If they do these things WITHOUT being asked, they get a marble. If they misbehave they get a marble taken away.

These things are like discipline gold! All I have to do it threaten to take a marble away and they are perfect children...most of the time. I have even convinced Payton to be a so good every day so she can earn 8 marbles a day. That way, in 80 days, she can have a Hannah Montana art set she has been pining over. She has been really good and frequently says she is trying to get eight marbles a day. She hasn't made it but she is well on her way.

I am hoping this will also help them learn the value of a dollar ("look how hard and how long you had to work to be able to pay for that HM art set."), the art of saving ("if you spend those marbles on the that insert stupid cheap toy here then it will take longer to get that HM art set."), and it will brain wash the kids into behaving. Really, what could be better?


The itch

I like to change things. When I was a kid, my friend M would come to my house for a sleep over and we would rearrange the furniture in my bedroom. We would do this every couple of months. My mom didn't like it at first but after a while she took on a "close the bedroom door and you don't have to see it" attitude. So, I continued to rearrange the furniture until I moved out. Now, I have many rooms to rearrange. We have lived in our house since last July and I have moved the couches at least 4 times. I love change. Raoul loves change too, he is constantly moving furniture. We are a good match.

So, when Aunt Becky posted about her impending change, I got the itch, an itch I needed to scratch. Or else I would have started moving furniture and my back still hurts a little bit from the cat litter incident. So, I was poking around and found a great site that makes changing things simple as pie. Actually, pie isn't simple. At least not pie crust. So it is as simple as, um, something that is really simple. Anyway, now that I have found that site I don't think my blog will look the same for more than a month or two before I change it again.

Between cutting off and coloring my hair, cutting off P's hair, moving the couches, and changing up the blog (all since mid August), I should be good for a few weeks. Seriously, I need this. It helps me fight my shopping addiction.

The domestic diva in me

I never understood why apple scented candles smelled the way they did. I would smell them and think "This is not how an apple smells, what are they smoking?" So, I went on my merry way not buying apple scented things because, seriously, they don't smell like apples. Turns out, I was wrong.

Hubby and the kids went to the local apple orchard to buy some apples. Raoul called me and asked how many apples I wanted. I asked him how much everything costs and he said they had a bushel of mixed apples for $6. That's right, 45 lbs of apples for $6. "Holy crap, buy that", I said. So, he bought the entire bushel . They sat on the kitchen counter over night and when I woke up in the morning my kitchen smelled like apples. Sweet, intoxicating apples. Every time I walked near the kitchen I could smell them. I would walk past the kitchen just to smell them. And you know what, they smelled just like those apple scented candles. I guess I was the one who was smoking something.

In addition to ridiculously cheap apples, Raoul picked up cheap pears and plums. He spent $10 and brought home a huge amount of fruit. I know what you are thinking, what the hell does a person do with 45 lbs of apples, 3 lbs of pears, and 1 lb of plums? Why she makes apple sauce of course! I got all domestic on Monday and made 10 jars of sauce. We have:
  • 2 jars of apple
  • 2 jars of apple plum
  • 2 jars of apple pear
  • 2 jars of apple strawberry
  • 2 jars of apple peach strawberry

The kids and Raoul love this stuff so those jars won't last long. Raoul is heading the orchard on Sunday to pick up another bushel. I will definitely make 2 jars of apple peach and a 2 jars of apple blueberry because I haven't made any yet. I am also looking for cherries to make apple cherry but I can't find any. I didn't expect to find fresh cherries because they are out of season but I was hoping to find frozen cherries. Our grocery store didn't have any. Oh well, I guess I will buy cherries when they are in season next year and freeze them so I can make sauce next fall. That means I have to listen to them bitch about it for the next year.

In addition to my domestic dabblings in apple sauce making, I made minestrone and chicken soup this past weekend. I am much more domestic in the winter than I am in the summer. It is just too hot to cook anything in the summer. What is your favorite food to cook when it starts to get cold out?


Ooooo...It's finally here! (Updated)

Did you hear what is coming out on DVD TODAY!!!!! Did ya? I am soooooo excited! Raoul, sweetheart, love of my life, Sweetest Day is just around the corner and while this is a Halmark holiday that I could care less about let's celebrate this year anyway, okay? And, since you love me so much, I am sure you will want to buy me a gift. And, since you love seeing the joy on my face when you give me gifts you will want to give it to me early. Like, today early. Here is a small hint:

Update: Now I totally deserve this movie. Not only did I work from 8am until 10:15pm, I also went to the grocery store after work to buy the things necessary to make the salad Raoul needed for work on Wednesday, you know, tomorrow Wednesday....which I found out about last night...at 7:30pm. What was I doing at 11pm tonight? I was making cabbage ramon noodle salad. Yup, I deserve that movie.


It's those books again!

When that college kid knocked on our door pedalling books in June I was sure we would never use what he was selling. Raoul said he would read the books to the kids and I agreed to buy a set. We paid $10 per book and got 14 books, you do the math. The kids do read them and Raoul does cuddle in bed with them and a book. I have even cracked a few. As you may or may not know from previous posts, I have learned about carpet munchers, ox peckers, and blue footed boobie birds from these books.

Tweedle P's favorite book is called "Who Lives Castles?". On Saturday I was being a slacker mom and doing a little blog catch up. P was hanging out on the couch when she looked up and said, "Mommy, do you know about the black death?" Imagine my surprise when I heard my 6 year old discussing the black death with me. And she actually knew about it. She could tell me it was spread by fleas from rats, it was also called the plague, and thousands died in Europe. So, I asked her what else the book taught her and she started discussing the great fire of 1666 and an earthquake in Portugal.

I would love to say I can't believe how much she picks up but I can't because she has surprised me like this before. What I can't believe is how morbid our conversations have been since the discovery of the black death. I have had a bit of a cough this week and P told C to run from Mommy because she has the plague and is going to die. She knew I didn't have the plague but she was totally screwing with C. She will do anything to make him cry. I am so proud of her!

So, I reluctantly admit these books are totally worth their price. The kids read them everyday and pick up all kinds of interesting tit bits from them. They even came with 2 of those wonderful sticker books. You know, the books where the stickers can be stuck, picked up, and re stuck over and over again. They love them. Raoul was right (shhhhh! Don't tell him!). The books are great.


Vegas Baby!

I didn't post yesterday and I am bummed because I was on a roll posting everyday. But, in my defense, I was making Minestrone and I hacked into my thumb with my favorite knife. If it hadn't been for my finger nail and I would have cut right through to my bone. So, I granted myself a bogging break.

Anyway, in just 3 short days, my short trip to Mesquite with PK has turned into a 5 day trip to Vegas for the four of us: Raoul, PK, J, and myself. Of course, we just have a few things to settle before we can go. We have to

  • Find someone to stay with the kids
  • Find someone to watch the dog
  • Find cheap airfare (Huh! Good luck with that!)
  • And find a good deal on a hotel in the middle of the strip

We did find some flight/hotel packages that were pretty reasonable. The hotels were on the south end of the strip which isn't ideal but it is better than the far north end of the strip. I would love to stay at Paris or Bellagio but those packages were pretty pricey, much more than we would be willing to spend on 5 impromtu days in Vegas.

The flight times aren't ideal either. They usually involve at least one lay over so we would spend 8 hours in the airport for 2 of the 5 days which pretty much sucks. On the up side, the other three days would be spent laying by the pool drinking and reading a book.

Of course, all of this is a moot point if no one can watch the kids. So...who wants to watch them? They are great, I swear. They sleep about 10 hours a day and whine about 10 hours a day. That means you get to enjoy 4 bliss filled hours a day playing with legos and reading books. Wait, hold on, I forgot to add in meals, although they whine all through meals so I guess they whine 11 and a half hours as day so I guess you can enjoy 2 and half hours a day of bliss. Oh come on, you know you want to! I'll even buy you a present. You can pick between this and this. Oh hell, you can have both!


Foto Friday

It is getting cold here in the mid west; cold enough that we bought snugglies. You probably know them as footie jammies or blanket sleepers. We here at the Orchidee household call them snugglies.

Tweedle P is getting to an age where it is hard to buy snugglies in her size. Actually, I am surprised she still wants to wear them. Not only does she want to, but she threw an absolute fit when Target didn't have her size. She saw it as a serious tragedy. I did too of course, I love those soft snuggly jammies. We finally found some that fit and she loves them. We only had to drive 45 miles from home to find them**. No big deal.

And that brings me to Foto Friday. Every year, the first night the kids wear snugglies to bed, we take a snuggly picture. It got down right tit nippley the other night so here, for your viewing plessure, is this year's snuggly picture.

**We were actually on our way to our nephew's birthday party and passed a Carter's outlet store so we stopped in to check out the supply. We would not have driven there to buy them if we were not passing. Gotta think about that footprint.


Stay off the roads

If you have read several of my previous posts, you have heard me (read me?) complaining about the insane amount of hours I have been putting in. And when I say insane I mean getting to the office at 8ish, working until 4ish, picking up the Tweedles, getting home and working some more, put the Tweedles to bed then work some more; usually until 1 or 2am. Lather, rinse, repeat since August. I think it has gotten a bit out of hand. Below are things I have done today that I wouldn't normally do but did do due (hah, do do! See how tired I am?) to my lack of sleep:

  • Forgot to feed Chicken Shit his dinner last night. So that was why he was staring at me then the kitchen, then me, then the kitchen. He was saying feed me my damn dinner bitch!

  • Damn near backed into the garage door pulling out this morning because I forgot to open it.

  • Damn near backed into Raoul’s car pulling out of the driveway (sorry baby!)

  • Damn near hit the guy in front of me on the freeway because I accidentally hit the gas pedal instead of the brake

  • Spelled my name wrong on a report

  • Walked into my supervisor’s wall as I was leaving her office

  • Spilled coffee all over my desk. I don’t even drink coffee!

  • Locked myself in the stairwell and had to walk 11 flights down to the main floor where the door was unlocked. I figured 11 flights down was better than 9 flights up.

  • Said “fuckin’ A, what a stupid asshole” in a meeting with my CEO. Thank god she also hates the guy I called a stupid asshole...and thank god the mute button was on because he was on the phone.

  • Took on another project! What the hell is wrong with me??

  • Asked the IT guy when our new printer was going to be installed, he pointed about 25 degrees to my right…at the guy installing the new printer.

  • Forgot to pick up Tweedle P. I drove right past the baby sitter and turned down my street. I didn't realize what I had done until I got home and asked P to get her school bag out of the car. I turned around to find out why she didn't answer and her seat was empty. Sorry P! Mommy loves you!

PK, if you are reading this…SAVE ME! Save me from my hell. I have two words for you: Nevada Baby! No, not Vegas Baby. Nevada Baby! My mom lives in Mesquite (you know that but no one else reading this does) and I am way too cheap to pay for a hotel room when I can stay somewhere for free. Think about it. Sun, free food, free lodging, we can even steal their car and go to Vegas shopping for a day. I am sure my parents would love to have us! Come on, you know you want to. The boys getting fishing, we get Mesquite. It is only fair.

Oh, another thing PK, if we are getting together this weekend lets do it at your place, Kowie will babysit (maybe I should ask her first?). My only request is you have wine on hand, lots of it, and a glass won’t be necessary. Actually, strike that, make the boys stay with the Tweedles and we will gorge ourselves with oodles of egg rolls. Wine is still necessary, glasses still are not.


Take your dad's pills, pay the price

I was inspired by flaccid mice and 11 hour mounting sessions on Always Home today. So, thank you Kevin.

Several Sundays ago I was working at the pharmacy trying to piss away the afternoon waiting for 6pm to come. J and PK were coming for dinner and we were having egg rolls and I couldn't wait to go home. There was a sting of drool following me around the pharmacy all day. At 5:45 the phone rang and on the other end was the sound of a young man so terrified his voice was shaking and he was on the edge of tears. Here's how it went:

Me: Pharmacy, can I help you?

Terrified Crying Young Man: Uh, hi, I, um, I'm 24 and, I, well, I, um, I took my Dad's Viagra cause I wanted to see what would happen.

Me: Okay....

TCYM: And, I, well, um, I have had a boner for, like, 5 hours.

Me: Right. (At this point I'm thinking it is Raoul or J because seriously! What are the chances? It totally wasn't them.)

TCYM: Anyway, my buddy told me that if you have a boner for more than 4 hours that is bad, like really bad.

Me: Well, your fri....

TCYM: Wait, there is more. My buddy says they are going to cut it off. Is he right? Do they have to cut it off? What should I do?

**I wanted to say go beat the bad boy off but I don't think my manager would have approved so here is what I actually said.

Me: Well, your friend is right. An erection lasting longer than 4 hours can be dangerous. Blood pooling one area for that amount of time could form into a clot and travel into your lungs, resulting in death. You should go to the emergency room right away so they can administer treatment.

TCYM: Treatment? What kind of treatment? Like ice or something.

**Yeah, dumb ass. Ice. I am sending you to the emergency room to waste the doctors and nurses time so they can ice it.

Me: No, not ice. There is a nerve that runs along the under side of the penis, that nerve will be severed and the erection should subside.

TCYM: Severed, like cut. Dude they are going to cut it.

Me: Unfortunately the treatment will likely render you impotent. It could just be short term but it may also permanent.

TCYM (speaking to his friend): What the *string of obscenities too vial to write on my blog, yup, that bad*. I told you, you *more obscenities* I didn't want to take that shit. Now I will have fucking whiskey dick the rest of my fucking life. (friends laughing hysterically in the background.)

TCYM (speaking to me): Thank you ma'am. Can you tell me where the closest ER is?

I sent him on his way. Poor guy. 24 years old and he will need a little blue pill and 1 hour advanced notice for the rest of his life. Seriously sucks to be him...and his girlfriend.


Peanuts or Penis (Updated)

For several weeks now Tweedle C has been walking around the house singing "Shake, shake, shake. Shake, shake, shake. Shake your penis, shake your penis. (Think KC and the Sunshine Band). I kept asking him where he heard that and telling him is wasn't appropriate to sing songs about shaking your penis. He said Mickey sings it. Mickey? What the hell kind of f'ed up Mickey video was that kid was watching? Apparently, it was Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.

You see, my Tweedles really love Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. They usually have that on when I get up on Saturday. Yes, that's right, when I get up. Raoul wakes up with the kids and the dog and lets me sleep as late as I want to. Have I mentioned that I love that man? I mean really love that man?

Anywho, the kids usually have that on when I wake up. This Saturday morning the mystery of shake your penis was solved. Mickey was trying to save a baby elephant and was singing shake your peanuts. Oooohhhh, shake your peanuts, I thought. That makes sense, I didn't understand what Tweedle C was saying and I had convinced him singing about peanuts was inappropriate.

Then, Tweedle C turned to look at me said, "See Mommy, shake your penis. It is on Mickey." Then he started shaking his little pelvis like Elvis singing shake your penis**. Maybe Raoul is right about getting surround sound. Maybe the sound will be bit more clear and we won't have anymore penis issues. But don't tell him I said that, he doesn't need to know because then I will have to hear about the fact that I said we should get surround sound and he won't shut up until I get it. Crap, he reads my blog. Egh, what are you gonna do.

**Edited to add Tweedle C pronounces penis like penus which is why he thinks Mickey is saying penis, not peanuts. Get it? Got it. Good.


A great website

Several people have expressed interest in egg donation, whether it be through e-mail or in comments. Today I found a great resource for information regarding surrogacy and egg donation. The site is called Infertility Answers. Please visit it and look around. It has a lot of great information. I will place a link on my sidebar as well.

The hormones, they are a flowin'

Tweedle P is six. She was taking a shower tonight and I was hanging out in the bathroom with my Mike's waiting to wash her hair. I asked her if she likes her class and she said she is bored in her class. I asked why and she said her "favorite boys" are all in the other class. Last year, she was quite the man killer. Um, boy killer? After all, they were only 5. Anyway, she would eat lunch everyday with Josh, Vince, and Matthew. She had her girls too but those boys always sat at her table. These boys are in the other classroom now and she needs to wait until recess to play with them. They play, get this, tackle. My 6 year old playing tackle with Josh, Vince, and Matthew. Huh. Should I be worried? I asked her she has any boyfriends in her class (she calls them that, not me) and she said no. The only boy in her class she is willing to talk to is Jacob but he is too fat for her. Her words, not mine. Yeah, I think I should be worried.

Remember when I got lost going to golf course and I had to suck it up and call Raoul? Well, we were on our way to a birthday party this weekend and Raoul pulled out the GPS that I didn't think we needed. We were sitting in the Hardee's drive through waiting for our breakfast and Raoul was blissfully. Then he started to say something but stopped, grinning from ear to ear with his I want to say this but she will kick my ass if I do look. It took a little pressing but I finally got it out of him, he was about the lecture me about that fact that having a GPS would have helped me find the golf course. I can't help but wonder how long he wanted to tell me that.

I do love that man, though. I have a 6 disc changer in my car and am not technologically advanced enough yet to have an iPod. Okay, the Truth is I'm really just too cheap to buy one because CD players work just fine for me. I e-mailed Raoul a list of songs I would like him to burn onto a CD for me (not only am I too cheap to buy an iPod, I am also too cheap to buy CDs so I make Raoul burn them for me). Normally he takes a few days to burn something for me because he does it at work and he is busy. I have been feeling quite impatient lately and wanted my CD. So I told him I would put on my new hooker boots** and fancy panties***, only my hooker boots and fancy panties, if he burned the CD for me. He got the e-mail today, I got the CD today. I do love that man!

**Oh how I love my new hooker boots

***Come on, did you actually think I would post pictures of my fancy panties?


The sickness

There is a sickness running through my house. On Tuesday C had a fever although Raoul decided he didn't have to tell me about it. On Wednesday, he went to preschool as usual. Normally, after preschool, he would come home with me. But, I had a meeting in the office so I sent him to daycare. I work about 30 minutes away from daycare, 45 in traffic. I dropped Tweedle C off at 12:20 and got to work at 1:07. At 1:17, his baby sitter called me to tell me he had thrown up all over the house. She knew I had a meeting and was okay with him staying but wanted him picked up as soon as it was done. I picked him up at 3:30 and he was very snuggley all night.

Last weekend, Tweedle P started to get a terrible cough and a really stuffy nose. She would lay in bed at night hacking and coughing. It was one of those barky croupey coughs. Not long after the vomiting, Tweedle C started coughing and getting really hoarse. By Friday, the kid could hardly talk. Delsym and Sudafed have been flowing like water around this place.

Friday I was buying cat litter. In an effort to save money, I switched from clumping litter to regular clay litter and bought the huge 50 lb bag. I hoisted it into the cart, got it into and out of the car, and carried it into the basement. All was well until I tried to fill the litter pan. I totally killed my back. I can hardly bend over. It hurts if my bladder gets to full and when I sit down I have to do the nine months pregnant fall back onto the couch because I can't bend over sit. It sucks. Yesterday, I started to get that scratchy cough and now I have the constant need to cough. Today, I started to feel sick to my stomach. I feel like I have to throw up. It sucks.

I H-A-T-E the first week of school. I hate all the little germs they bring home and get everyone sick. I HATE IT!

PS If this is hard to read or there are spelling errors I am sorry. I am not spell checking or editing this because I feel sick and I am going to lay down.


Genetic Abnormality

Three posts in one day! I know, I am one bad mo fo, yo. Anyway, do you think if a potential recipient saw that P, C, and I can all do this to our elbows they would run in fear?

Seriously, Am I 6?

Tweedle P and I were reading more science books today. This is not the same book I was reading at preschool with Tweedle C on Monday but it is from the same book collection. Here is what I found that made me giggle this time.

First, did you know there are birds called ox-peckers. Seriously! Ox-peckers. Contrary to how it sounds, these birds are not huge. Real ox peckers (of the penis variety) are huge, like several feet long. According to the book, ox peckers (of the bird variety) are tiny little birds that sit on large mammals to eat little bugs off of them. Ox-peckers! I giggled, oh how I giggled.

Then we came to the blue booby bird. Normally I wouldn't giggle at that but on the heals of carpet munchers and ox-peckers I couldn't help it. Tweedle P did get that one. The rest of the time we read she kept saying booby, causing both of us to laugh like little 6 year olds. Wait, she is 6. Oh well, you know what I mean.

My Donor Profile

The packet wasn't as large as I thought it would be. It has your basic questions: age, race, religion, drug and alcohol use, past pregnancies, etc. It asks some odd questions: left or right handed? Okay, right. Thanks for asking.

They also ask questions about my appearance, education, musical abilities, activity level, and family medical history, among other things. The questionnaire is 5 pages long so it will keep me busy tonight.

The packet also included some details regarding the procedure. The actual donation is an 8 week process. I will use oral contraceptives for the first 4 weeks and then use injections to stimulate oocyte production. I will go in 4 times for a trans vaginal ultrasound to ensure I responding well to the medication. I will be sedated during retrieval to help minimize the discomfort.

In order to be considered as a candidate I will have to go through a few preliminary screens. If the pre screening application is accepted, a nurse will call to schedule an interview with a specialist. Then, all the information, interview and otherwise, will be submitted to the medical director for review. If approved, I will either be placed in a donor pool or selected as a pre-screened donor.

If I am selected as a pre-screened donor, I will have to go through the screening. The tests include:
  • A psychological consultation with a psychologist familiar with third party reproduction issues
  • A physical exam by a reproductive medical center nurse
  • A genetic counseling session which includes 3 generations of family medical history
  • Blood tests for: follicle stimulating hormone (FSH), Hep B, Hep C, HCV PCR, HIV, Syphilis, and a pap with gonorrhea and chlamydia cultures
  • A genetic screening for CF

The also include information about legal and financial considerations if I am accepted into the program. It did say the donor fee was taxed income which I was wondering about so I am glad it was included. If accepted to the program I can donate a maximum of six times and that is pretty consistent from what I have seen elsewhere.

There are risks involved which worries me a bit but they don't seem too threatening. One risk noted is ovarian cancer but they also state the controversial data exists. I am excited. I am so happy to be given the chance to try to do this for a couple. I am hoping all goes well and I am accepted to the program. There is nothing in the information that tells me how long before I hear from them again after filling out the pre-screening stuff. I hope it is not too long.


Check out this website! I found it quite some time ago and forgot about it. I am totally buying one and wearing it on my next girl's night out. You should buy one, too. After all, It's for the ta tas! Save the ta tas!


Foto Friday!

I feel like I am the only mom at preschool who is sending her youngest out into the world. Every other mom there has at least one younger child, some have two. So I have been surrounded by babies three days a week, 6 of which are less then 1 year old. Needless to say, I have been a little nostalgic lately. That is why this week's Foto Friday is pictures of my kids when they were teeny tiny, non talking back, non whining, non fighting, squishy cheek little munchkins. Enjoy!

I'm a sucker for a cute face

It is the time of year when Tweedle P needs to decide what after school activities she would like to do. On Sunday, she had it narrowed down to dance, horseback riding, brownies, swimming, and gymnastics (yup, that was narrowed down) . Raoul and I agree that a 6 year old should not be doing more than 2 activities at one time so we were trying to get her to pick just two of them. I told her absolutely no horseback riding because it was too expensive. We're talking $185 a month...for a six year old! I was pushing for dance because she is really good and I love watching her recitals. I also wanted brownies because it is nearly free and it is on Tuesday so Raould would be dealing with it. On Wednesday night we were eating dinner and I asked P if she had decided on anything yet. Of course, she said. Swimming and horseback riding. THE TWO MOST EXPENSIVE CHOICES! What the hell? I reminded her I already said absolutely no horseback riding lessons. Then the classic P drama ensued. Here is how it went:

P: But Mooooommmmyyyy. I reaaaaaalllly love horses and you, well, you should just let me do it.

Me: No P. Mommy isn't spending $185 a month so you can sit on a horse for 30 minutes once a week.

P: But Mooooooooooommmmmmmm! I REALLY want to do horseback riding. C doesn't have to play soccer. He is only four. He will never know. I don't even remember being four.

C: P stop it. That isn't fair. I do too remember being four because I am four! Mommy, P said I can't remember. (screaching while every mirror in the house shatters).

Me: Oh my god stop it! NO!!! Stop asking. Mommy is not going to let you do it. C is playing soccer and swimming. You are not taking horseback riding lessons!

C: I told you P.

P: Mommy, C (cut off before finishing sentence)

C: (screaching so loudly dogs 10 miles away were begging for a quick death) Mommy don't listen she's telling! Don't listen she telling! (I told the kids I won't listen to tattle tales to try to cut back on tattling. Totally didn't work)

P: I'm not telling just listen. C said (cut off again before finishing)

ME: STOP IT! Finish your dinner and stop fighting unless you want to eat alone in your room with the doors closed.


10 minutes later....

Me: Okay, fine. If we can find a stable were lessons don't cost more than ballet you can ride.

P: Really, your gonna let me ride. I get to ride horses! (Gets up to do happy butt shaking dance). C! Mommy is gonna let me ride horses!!!!!

Yup, I'm sucker. I totally gave in. I kept thinking about how badly I wanted to take lessons as a kid and my mom never let me. Luckily a friend of a friend was looking for someone to help exercise their polo horses so they hired me. I would ride 3 nights a week my senior year in high school and I loved it. So I gave in. But I found a stable that lets you schedule one on one lessons whenever it is convenient for you. None of this one a week every week for X amount of time. Lessons are $30 for 30 minutes so she can have two lessons a month (ballet was $60 a month). I am going to miss ballet but horses are fun for a little girl.

Have you seen this? What the fuck? I don't even know what to say about that. I just, I mean, I, what the fuck? Why, oh why, would you pump foam on toilet paper and then wipe it on, well, yourself? Isn't the point of toilet paper to dry the area? Why, then, would you apply wet foam? I just don't get it.

Then! Then the dude holds up 7 boxes of wipes. You know, the big plastic tubs with flip lids. And says the 300 hundred applications of Aaah would outlast all of those boxes of wipes. Now hold on one cotton pickin' minute. The only way 300 applications of butt foam will outlast 7 tubs of wipes is if there are only 40 wipes per tub or it you use, say, 6 wipes per sitting. And, if you are using 6 wipes per sitting you may want to consider changing you diet.

This is what one finds when working at 1 o'clock in the morning with the TV on in the background. Late night TV never fails.

I finally got my donor egg packet. There is a lot of paperwork to look through so I won't go into here but stop by Saturday to find out more. I should have a chance to go through it by then.


I think August Called September

The universe spent most of August screwing with me. Between the car incident, and the wedding incident, and the my stupid self incident and the insane amount of hours I worked, August pretty much sucked (fyi, the hours are still insane). I was hoping with the turn of the calendar I would see a change in my luck as well. Not so much. If you read this, you know yesterday was my anniversary. The day started out fine. We knew we wouldn't see each other for more than 10 minutes the entire day but it was okay. Raoul came to visit me at work flowers and children in tow. It was a nice break.

Around 9:15 last night my day went from being a regular ol' day to being right out of August. I was hanging out in the pharmacy (I work there on Tuesday's) munching on my weekly dosage of gummy bears and one of our patients came in. I knew who she was immediately and I knew why she was there. She came in to tell me her father, my favorite customer, had died.

Eleven years ago, when I was a senior in high school, I needed a job. I heard the pharmacy was hiring and I asked the manager if I could apply. She asked me how old I was, how often I wanted to work, and then hired me on the spot. It wasn't long before I met George. He was the first face I put to a name. He was a dirty old man who had the ability to make people cry at the drop of a hat. Pharmacists and technicians were scared of him. They would hide in the corner when they saw him coming. They didn't know how to handle him. I really loved waiting on him. He was the first customer to notice I was pregnant with P and asked, very loudly, "What the hell did you do, Stephanie? (My name is not Stephanie and he knew it.) You went and got yourself knocked up didn't you. Well, I hope the sex was good because now it will suck for the rest of your life." Then he took my hand and winked at me, and whispered how happy he was for us. When it was apparent I was having another, he said "You got yourself knocked up again, huh? Nice fuckin' job." He called my manager a washed up old hag and told customers in line to trust her. She fought back, calling him senile old fool and telling him to get the hell out of her store. He would smile and go about his business. I loved that loud, dirty old man and his dirty old man jokes.

About two years ago, he started to go downhill. It started slowly and then things got bad fast. He started to forget when he filled medication. He would stock pile insulin and needles but forget for months to get his blood pressure meds. He would get upset with other techs and would only work with me. Eventually, he stopped coming by himself and started coming with his daughter. We got his meds under control and he did better for awhile.

January 2007 I decided to leave the provider side and head over to the manufacturer / consulting side. I still worked at the pharmacy 2 days a week and George made sure he came in only on those days. But one day, George didn't come. Only his daughter came. I knew that couldn't be good. He couldn't live alone anymore, his Alzheimer's was too bad. He needed round the clock care. George would come visit with his daughter on Sundays when she would pick up her meds and I could tell it wouldn't be long. He was loosing weight, he was confused a lot.

I wasn't surprised when I saw tears well in Elizabeth's eyes last night as she said the words I was expecting to hear, "Dad is gone. I thought you would want to know." I left the pharmacy and cried quietly in the bathroom for quite a while. It felt silly crying for a man I never know outside of the pharmacy walls but I did anyway. I cry know as I type this post. He was a good man with a kind heart and he made my days fun.

Good bye George. I'll miss you.


2,920 Days

2,920 days ago we said I do. Our whirlwind romance has turned into a lifelong friendship that I cherish. I still think about those lazy days in our first apartment and the terribly hot summer we spent living on the third floor on Main St. I remember how much I missed you while you were at boot camp and seeing you get off that plane when you finally came home. I can still feel the strength of that embrace and the spectrum of emotions I felt after not seeing you for so long.

I can be myself with you and tell you things I would never tell anyone else. You supported me through school. Being Mr. Mom and working full time while I pursued a degree was not easy for you yet you did it without complaining. Well, hardly ever complaining. You are an amazing father. Your devotion to your children is unmatched by anyone else I know. They are your heart and soul and it obvious by the way you look at them. Our lives would not be the same without you. You are the second half of my heart. Your loyalty to your family and friends and your attentiveness to me make you completely unforgettable. I would not be who I am today or where I am today without you in my life and I will always remember that.

Our lives aren’t perfect and house isn’t spotless but it is our life and our house. Our children aren’t perfectly behaved angels but you find laughter in their attitudes and that is hard to do. You read to them, you sing to them, you get them out of the funks. You deal with P’s wardrobe issues like a champ and with C’s crabbiness like a saint. Our children are blessed to have you as a father.

Your smile can make me smile when I am sad. Your beautiful eyes stop my heart and your strong arms make me feel protected and secure. I am blessed to have found my soul mate. Happy anniversary baby, 8 wonderful years and counting.


My Children are Addicted to drugs

That's right. They are addicted. Actually, just Tweedle C is addicted. Tweedle P makes taking medicine a 15 minute production. Aaanyyyywaaaay, Tweedle P had a headache this morning. Usually I don't buy the I have a headache crap because she is just trying to be lazy and lay on the couch like mommy does when she has a headache. But this morning I believed her because she had this squinty eye thing that she gets when she has a headache. So, I gave her some Tylenol and told her to finish her breakfast. Of course she needed a glass of milk and smelled and licked everything before she would chew it. It took her 25 minutes to take 4 chewable grape flavored Tylenol. I think it is time for swallow tabs.

Suddenly, Tweedle C had a headache. I knew he didn't have a headache, he just wanted that sweet sweet Tylenol. He begged, he cried, he needed that Tylenol. His eyes even started to get a little squinty and then I thought maybe I was a bad mom and he really did have a headache (FYI he didn't have one, he was faking, he told me when I dropped him off at school). So, I gave him some Tylenol. Because he is 4 and P is 6, their dose is not the same. She gets 4 and he only gets 3. Of course, he cried that is was unfair that Tweedle P got 4 and he only got 3. He sat there bitching and crying that his *headache* wouldn't go away unless he had 4 as well. He refused to eat his breakfast. I held firm and did not give in to his Tylenol fit. He also made a 25 minuted production begging for "just one more! Please!"

This is not the first time we have witnessed his addiction. My brother got married a few years ago and both kids were sick. I bought those strips that dissolve because I didn't want liquid stuff dripping on their clothes. Tweedle C loved it. He wouldn't sit by anyone to get his picture taken so we bribed him with medicine. We told him if he sat nice and took pictures he could have more. It worked like a charm. The pictures turned out perfect and his little nose was clear and dry all night.

Now that winter is coming and colds come with it, his addiction will surface again. He will beg for medicine. Every time someone takes a Sudafed or an Advil he will think he needs some too. He will fake many an illness just so he can take that sweet sweet Tylenol. Of course, when that terrible cough he gets every year comes around, we will break out that sweet sweet codeine to drug him with. Thank god for over the counter codeine.

On a side note, I think I may be the most immature mom at preschool. You see, on Mondays we get to school a little early because of P's start time and C's start time. We bring books to keep ourselves busy during that 20 minute wait. The books are these educational books with headings on all the pages. One heading was "Who munches carpet?" I had a very hard time getting through that section. I could hardly hold back my giggles. Okay, that is not true. I totally could not hold back my giggles. Every mom, dad, and grandma in the place was giving me the evil eye while we waited for the doors to open. Hey, I thought it was funny.


Do you hear that?

Just listen. Do you hear it? That sound. I almost forgot what it sounds like. It's silence. Nothing. Just me, the dog, and clicking of my keyboard. The kids are with my aunt, the hubby is at his dad's. I am alone...and I love it! I love a little me time. Time to lounge on the couch and be lazy. Time to watch Sabrina or To Each His Own without feeling guilty. Time to make a pan of PB Incredibles, eat the entire thing, and not have to endure that look that Raoul gives me when I make a pan of something and then eat the entire thing. I need this time. I almost had some last night; Raoul was with J and the kids went to bed almost on time but I fell asleep. I missed my quite time. I don't expect anyone back for hours. Ah, what great way to spend a Sunday.

Much better than this morning. Will someone please explain to me why it necessary for Tweedle C to step on anything that lays on the floor. Every single time? You see, the dog enjoys seeing his toys laying all over the place. Raoul and I pick them up and put them in his basket but he follows us and takes them out and drops them back on the floor. So, Chicken Shit's frisbee was laying on the ground today. Tweedle C was going to the bathroom and went out of his way to step on the frisbee. Why? He does this all the time. Books, clothes, toys, DVD cases, blankets, pillows, anything. If it is laying on the floor he will step on it. I just don't understand. I get especially annoyed when he steps on books. We love books at this house and we treat them with respect. He just steps all over them. Ugh! It drives me nuts. How can I break this terribly annoying habit?

I listened to the message from clinic today. Turns out they are sending me a large packet of information. I am to fill everything out and send it back to them. They will contact me after they have reviewed the profile and things will progress from there. They left the message Friday and since the clinic is pretty close I expect the packet by Tuesday or Wednesday. I am happy they called. This is the clinic I wanted to work with. I know the doctor and his reputation. They have a branch close to my office and close to my home so it is convenient. They are very well respected and work with a large teaching hospital in the area. I am happy to get this under way because I was feeling a bit discouraged.

Okay. Off to enjoy that wonderful lovely sound that I so rarely get to hear...and some yummy dessert!


I survived Stonefire

As a celebration of the first week of school, the Raoul and I took the kids to Stonefire Pizza. For those of you who do not have a Stonefire in your area, it is like a yuppie version of Chuck E Cheese. In addition to over priced games and prizes, they have bumper cars, bowling, and rock climbing wall. Like Chuck E Cheese, they have low quality pizza and sugared up and screaming kids. It was pretty fun. We stayed a good four hours. My prissy non sport playing Tweedle P climbed about 7 feet up the rock wall several times. She could have gone further but stopped because she loved falling from that height. It was pretty fun. Of course there was a serious melt down when it was time to leave and an even more serious melt down when the Tweedles found out Kowie wasn't going to sleep over. I talking a kicking-screaming-hitting-no-I-don't-want-to-go-to-bed-because-Kowie-isn't-here-and-it-isn't-fair-melt down. I guess that is what 4 hours of an all you can eat dessert bar will do to a kid who ate half a slice of pizza.

To compensate for not having a sleep over, Kowie came over today. I love it when Kowie comes over. She is 11 and takes care of the kids for me. I can relax and pretend that I don't have children because Kowie plays with them, settles fights, feeds them, and takes them to the park. i have tried to convince her parents to let her move in with me but they have a problem with it. Something about her being an only child and they would miss her or some crap. Some people are so selfish, only thinking of themselves.

I have been slacking on reading my regular blogs. I like to check at least every other day and comment. I have checked a blog or two since Wednesday and posted a few comments but not like I usually do. My aunt is taking the kids to my grandparents house tomorrow and I am staying home. I am going to try to catch up then but the real reason she is taking them is so I can stay home and work. I am really behind at the office because we have two new people that I am training. I don't get any work done when I am there because of it.

Raoul just told me there is a message on our machine from a nurse at our local clinic regarding my egg donation application. I didn't listen to it and Raoul didn't give any details so I am not exactly sure what she said. I plan to call her back on Monday so come back Monday to see what came of the conversation.

Sorry for the boring post. I am feeling very uninspired today. Maybe tomorrow will be better.


Foto Friday

I am out of material today. Okay, that isn't true. I have plenty to blog about but I am exhausted and can't muster the strength to do it. So, here are some photos to entertain you while I rest. And, since I like pictures to much, this is the first weekly Foto Friday. Stop by for new pictures every Friday!

Chicken Shit dealing with the 90 degree heat. He kind of looks stoned.

Tweedle P and my cousin on the first day of school.

The Tweedles pulled out their winter gear...in 90 degree heat.


To Whom it may Concern

Dear Mr School District Guy
I have a bone to pick with you. I understand the purpose of school is to educate the children and prepare them for the real world but do you think you could dumb it down a bit? You see, my 6 year old is a 1st grader in your district. Just one short year ago the girl could hardly read. Now she reads better than me. I am sure you are wondering why that is a bad thing. Put yourself in my shoes. You are tired but your children insist they need hear that ridiculously long book that no parent should be forced to read. Last year, I could skip the some pages and paraphrase others and no one was the wiser. But damn it, this year I actually have to read the book, word for word, the entire book. I get corrected when I skip words or pages.

As if that is not bad enough, she has learned to read the menu on TV. Again, how can this be bad you ask. Again, I ask that you put yourself in my shoes. I used to be able to convince my children the show that will not be named was not on. They didn't know about the menu. Now, she can work the damn remote all by herself. She turns on the menu, flips to noggin, and the RECORDS the show that will not be named so she can watch over and over and over and over....every time I hear this**, I die a little more inside. Seriously, this show freaks me out. Although this*** may freak me out a little bit more.

Therefore, I kindly request that you dumb things down a bit. Stop doing such a good job edumacating my children so I can get continue doing a half assed job as a parent.

A slacker parent trying to get her slacker life back

In donor egg news, um, well, there is no news. I am starting to feel a little bit indifferent about the entire process. I was so dedicated to it originally and filled about many applications and sent out many e-mails for more information. I have not heard one single peep from any of those people. It has been weeks. I even took it upon myself to call a clinic in my area. They were very nice and said they would leave my number with the person who takes care of that. They took my info and confirmed I could be reached at the number I left later that afternoon. Now, 6 days later, nothing. Not a peep from the clinic. I really want to do this but I don't know how long I can keep pestering people before I give up. I will try again Monday morning. I haven't told anyone at work I am doing this and would rather call when I am working from home. I decided I would keep people at work on a need to know basis. I work with a bunch of women and things can get very gossipy and mean.
So, I will try a bit more and make a few more phone calls. I know the interest in donating has increased but I also know clinics are always looking for more women. I am thinking the summer and the holiday kept people pretty busy and they are trying to catch up. I will keep posting updates but I feel like my donor egg blog is becoming a mommy blog. I love mommy blogs and read dozens of them but I wanted to create a resource for women looking for information because I had and continue to have such a hard time finding information.

**My kids were sitting next to me as I wrote this post and they made me listen to that damn song. Now I won't be able to sleep tonight.

***They made me watch this too and then started fighting about who got to sit on Daddy and who could see the screen. They pretty much lost it.


That Lip, I can't resist the lip

Tweedle C had his preschool orientation today. After orientation we came home and had a little mommy and Tweedle C time. We didn't get enough of that this summer and I was eating it up. We were sitting on the couch enjoying Red Vines (I love me some Red Vines!) and Tweedle C realized his had disappeared. We looked in the couch, on the floor, and then it struck us. Chicken Shit had that look in his eye. That I just stole your Red Vine, what are you gonna do about it look. Then that lip started to quiver, the Tweedle was going to cry. I an effort to avoid his glass shattering screams, I offered up another piece of licorice. He looked up at me, lip sticking out, eyes big and blue and said "I think I need two pieces to really make me feel better." How can you say no? Of course he got two pieces. I just can't resist that lip.

We had more outfit drama with Tweedle P this morning. I walked into her room and she was wearing a black velour dress that is typically reserved for Christmas parties. I told her she had to change and the drama began. She started whining about how badly she needed to wear that dress and Christmas was too far away to wait. It is funny, Christmas isn't too far away to be writing a list but so far that she needs to wear this dress NOW. I wonder where that line is, where Christmas is close enough for a list but too far to wait for the dress. But I digress, she sat on her floor in her underwear for 25 minutes complaining that she wanted to wear something black and the other black things I picked out weren't good enough. She eventually put on a super thin pencil skirt and a white top (none of which had black on it). I normally wouldn't let her leave for school in that because the skirt was too small and I couldn't figure out how she was going to run and play on the playground. But she spent so much time pissing and moaning on her floor she barely had enough time to eat breakfast and brush her teeth so I had no choice but to bite my tongue and let her wear it. I think we are going to start picking out clothes at night. I just can't deal with that crap before caffeine.


To my Manipulative P-nut

My dearest Tweedle P-
One year ago you started kindergarten. You were excited to be going to school with Kowie but you were nervous because you didn't know anyone and the school was large and intimidating. You cried that first day...and everyday after that for three weeks. Daddy would hug you and tell you not to be afraid. You would cry for a few minutes and were fine by the time the day really got going. Funny thing though, you only cried when Daddy dropped you off, never Mommy. I finally asked you on that fourth Monday why you cry for Daddy and not Mommy and you told me it makes Daddy feel better. Even at 5, you could manipulate your Daddy like no other.

It is one year later. You started first grade today. You got the teachers you wanted and your two best friends are in your class, they even sit at your table. You know the school now and know what to expect. It is less scary. You didn't cry when we got to school, and had no trouble leading the line right into the classroom. You smiled and laughed with the girls. You were thrilled to be back at school.

Of course, the day was not drama free. Is any day drama free with you? The drama began when it came time to pick an outfit. You picked a purple skirt and a blue LONG sleeved shirt. I said it was hot and your school isn't air conditioned. You should pick something short sleeved. You protested and, in the interest of avoiding drama on the first day, I caved. Daddy did not. He caught you wearing that long sleeved shirt and told you take it off...now. You cried, he got angry, you cried some more. Then the drama began. You whined, complained, refused to change or look for something else in your closet to wear. I couldn't handle it, I got angry, I made Daddy deal with you. I went to dry my hair. Your daddy had you laughing in no time, found an outfit you loved and you were excited for school again. It was 96 degrees today. The heat at school made you sick. Daddy was right, long sleeves were a bad idea. Happy first day of school baby. Mommy and Daddy love you.


Happy Labor Day!

I was going to write about how much I love Labor Day and how it marks the beginning of fall and all of the yummy comfort foods that I love to cook but don't cook in the summer because the house gets too hot and right around labor day I start to crave things like chicken soup and stroganoff and can't wait to start making it (how is that for a run on sentance). But, it is 86 degrees in my house and my boobs were sweating at dinner time. Sweat actually dripped off my left boob and slid down to my belly button. Seriously gross. So, I will not be posting about the wonderfulness (is that a word? wonderfulness?) of Labor Day. Instead, I will discuss the four year old mind.

We walked to Dairy Queen tonight because Tweedle P insisted we do something special. Turtle sundaes in a chocolate dipped waffle cone is always special. On the way home from DQ, Tweedle C was running in the street. I yelled at him to stop yelling and he didn't. So, I called his name again and he said: "I can't listen to you right now because I am running." Huh, that was like a little 4 year old fuck you wasn't it.

I have been getting a lot of little 4 year old fuck yous a lot lately. This morning I could hear him raiding the fridge. I hear the butter compartment open and, since we keep candy bars and not butter there, I yelled to put the Twix PB bar back and eat a healthy breakfast first. You know, like a Pop Tart. Hey, I was exhausted from all the drinking and dancing at the wedding. I needed a little extra rest. I eventually got out of bed and walked into the dining room. What did I find? Two Twix wrappers sitting empty on the table. He walked in as found them and said, "I ate those because you were in bed. They are in my tummy now. Sorry." Then he ran away into the protection of Tweedle P's bedroom. Yup, a little 4 year old fuck you.

School starts in just 1 more day. While I sit hear thinking I can't wait because then he can screw with other people instead of just me, I know I will be pretty sad on Wednesday because he is my baby and he is starting school. I might actually miss his little mind games.

Okay, it is still ridiculously hot in the house and this laptop is throwing off some serious heat. I have to shut it down and lay spread eagle on the couch under the open window soaking up the breeze. Hey, it works for Chicken Shit and Fat Ass.