"The Hap Hap Happiest Christmas . . ."

Fair warning - This post contains explicatives. One is in a quote from a movie which you have all watched and laughed at, so try not to get your panties in a bunch. Others, well, they are just me and most of you know when I am frustrated, mad, surprised, happy, sad, or just being me, I swear. If you are going to be offended, don't read and please don't judge. I come from a long line of cursers. It is a skill that has been passed down through the generations, and I'd like to think I am rather good at it.




Holidays are both wonderful and craptacular. Maybe that is why we love them so much. In the book The Count of Monte Cristo there is a quote near the end that says something about how in order to experience ultimate joy, we have to have experienced ultimate pain. Christmas day is wonderful because all the preparation before hand is complete hell.

I hope you all don't read this and think I am a total blubbering idiot. I am just ticked off at the moment. Tonight it just seems like the proverbial shit has hit the proverbial fan. Just let me spew it all out and in a few minutes I will be fine.

I am stressed. We are leaving in 2 days and I have mountains of sewing and packing and wrapping to do. (Yet I am blogging instead, huh?)

I am sad. My Grandfather is knocking on Death's door and I don't know if I am going to make it in time to see him and I don't know if I want to see him like that and why does he have to die during Christmas? Everytime I look up on my shelf at the annoying saxaphone playing reindeer he gave my kids last Christmas, I have to cry a little bit.

I am frustrated. I was lured by the $5.99 haircut coupon I recieved in the mail and got a haircut at Shit Clips or Pooper Cuts or whatever crappy salon it was. The cut is nothing like the picture I took in. I look like a moron.

I am pissed. The powers that be at my hubby's work just informed him that his schedule is changing and his days off will now be Fri/Sat instead of Sun/Mon. So, that means I have to go to the first part of church with 3 kids all by myself. Shit balls!

So to sum it up, in the words of Clark Griswold,

"Hallelujah, Holy shit! Where's the Tylenol?"

Whew! Now I feel a little better. Thanks for letting me vent!

Road Work Ahead. Expect Delays!

If the road to Hell really is paved with good intentions, my personal highway to Hell is getting resurfaced this month. By January it will be a nice smooth black with crisp new lines and there may even be a new lane.

After Christmas last year I decided I was going to make gifts for the next Christmas. Mad dash, last minute, purchasing of gifts at Target just isn't the way I like to do Christmas. It just doesn't seem like the true Christmas spirit. Of course with commercialism and all the hoopla maybe today's Christmas spirit is smashed in a cutesy gift envelope along with a gift card from your favorite big box store.

Anyway, I like making things. I like thinking about the person and trying to make something just for them. I imagine the receiver of the gift may pull off the wrapping paper and think, "Why can't she just do gift cards like everybody else? What am I supposed to do with this?" but I hope they begrudgingly use the gift and then realize they always needed a crocheted cover for the handle of their toilet brush, they just didn't know it.

So, the plan was to start in January and make at least a gift a month until I was done. I started the first gift in January and I finished it in October. One down! About the middle of last month I had the, "Holy Crap!" moment and began frantically sewing. Many yards of fabric and about 3 spools of thread later I am seven down and two to go. Unfortunately, one of those is a puppet theater for Drama Queen. Good thing my mom has a good sewing machine at her house, because we leave on Saturday and there isn't a Zhu Zhu Pet's chance in Wal-mart I am going to get it done before then.

And by Hell, I am not going to go through this frantic sewing thing again. It's just too stressful. Next year I will be on top of it! I am going to start in January and make a gift a month.

Oh no, I'm that person.

First a little confession. I really like the new sit-com Cougar Town. I was telling the Hubby how much I like it and that is was just my kind of humor.

He replied, "So it is just a bunch of people standing around making fun of each other?"

Crap! What does that say about me?

Wanted: Pediatrician

Since our move a year ago, we have been through 4 pediatricians, not counting the Instacare Dr.'s. There have been at least 3 of those.

I am seeking a Pediatrician who:

1. knows what the hell he/she is talking about.

2. schedules appointments in advance. One Dr.'s office would only schedule for that day. If I didn't call at 5 am I was SOL.

3. tells me what immunizations my child is receiving, before sending the nurse in to jab needles into my kid's leg. I would also appreciate a run through of possible side effects. Is that too much to ask?

4. does not chew gum with an open mouth.

5. does not talk baby talk. Grown men talking baby talk is ridiculous no matter what their profession is. My kid thinks you're ridiculous too, by the way.

6. does not talk to the 2 week old baby about his "guys" while fondling the baby's testes.

7. has a clean office. I do not want to wonder what the stain is on the seat I am sitting on.

8. employs individuals to run the front desk who have at least 2 braincells to rub together.

9. does not make me wait in a little tiny exam room with 3 kids for longer than 15 minutes. My time is important too.

10. does not wear tight fitting scrubs. I also do not want to see chest hair curling out of your V-neck. You are not a 70's porn star.

I Surrender

My love of all things culinary got the better of me. I went to the store for butter and Doritos and returned with all the fixin's for a Thanksgiving dinner. So much for my wallowing and baa humbug attitude.

Thanksgiving Pizza

This is our first and hopefully our last Thanksgiving with no family. Many nice friends have given us invites to their Thanksgiving feasts. I prefer to wallow in my self pity at home, thanks. For some reason, crashing someone else's family festivities, eating with mostly strangers, seems worse than being home and pretending it is not Thanksgiving at all.

So, we are home. There is a take and bake pizza in the fridge ready to go. The kids are outside playing in the warm Arizona sun. It doesn't feel like Thanksgiving at all. I just wish the announcers for the Football game would stop bringing up food and family.

That said, I do feel the need to write my thankful list, though there is no ceramic turkey to put it in.

I am thankful for caffeinated beverages and Sonic coupons to buy them with. Thanks Brisday, the drive-thu girl, for giving me stacks of coupons every day!

I am thankful for Craigslist and Freecycle, because I have developed my husband's family's love of scrounging for free stuff, in hopes I can turn it into something amazing. Best finds this year: 60" rear projection TV, bags and bags of knit fabric, a kiddie pool, and a coffee table.

I am thankful for PBS kids. I love that it can keep my kids occupied for a good share of the morning while I put the house back together from the previous day. And it is educational, so I feel less guilty about letting them watch it for hours.

I am thankful for the his and hers corners in our house. One for Drama Queen and one for Monkey Boy.

I am thankful for cereal, PB and J, Mac 'n Cheese, and hotdogs. Without them my children would probably starve.

I am thankful for our home.

I am thankful for unexpected blessings popping into our lives when we need them most. A check in the mail, bags of boy clothes from a friend, a scholarship for Kate's preschool.

Thankful for my parents for all their help, flour, corn and potatoes from home. My mom for talking to me everyday and being my friend.

Thankful for my hubby's parents too. They have helped us tons over years. Just finished off the last of the frozen meals his mom put together for us when the baby came and still have a pantry full of good food. Amazingly helpful as I have adjusted to life with 3.

I am thankful for perfect, wee toes, fingers, ears and big, happy, toothless grins.

I love unexpected bear hugs and slobbery kisses from a sometimes tender and sweet Monkey Boy.

I am grateful for Drama Queen's unique perspective and wisdom.

I am really, really, really thankful for my kind and patient husband, because we all know I am sometimes not that kind and definitly not that patient. He does his best to make me happy, and mostly I am.

I am grateful for my Heavenly Father and his tender mercies. For his guidance in my life and the comfort it gives me to know everything will be all right in the end; I just need to hang on.

Cuz Peeing you Pants is Cool!

I have reached new heights in womanhood. After having 3 kids I can now pee my pants not only when sneezing, but when I cough or blow my nose. Since I am currently battling a sinus infection, ahh, good times, good times.

Yesterday, I had just finished peeing (not in my pants). I thought I was safe. I took a chance. I blew my nose and I peed my pants. WTH (What the Hell)!!!!!!!!

Monkey Turd

That Monkey Boy is killin' me. These are some of the highlights of my day.

During breakfast MB threw handfuls of egg and toast onto the just mopped floor.

I came out of my bedroom from putting some laundry away to find Angel Baby laying on the floor in the hallway by his car seat. "Huh, I swear I remember laying him on the couch, but yet here he is kicking and staring in the middle of the floor." MB had picked him up, carried him across the room and tried to put him in the car seat. When reprimanded (screamed at and shot at with flaming darts out of my eyes) for picking up the baby he said, "Bonk head!" and pointed to the handle of the car seat which was in the up position. "Did you bonk Baby's head on the car seat?" I asked. "Ya!" He proudly replied. Somehow through all this Angel Baby was A-okay and not crying.

Then we went to a store that shall not be named, and the little turd ran away from me in the parking lot. It was really hard not to beat him.

While in the store I am too embarrassed to name, he wouldn't sit in the cart. We fought, he screamed and cried, and I gave in, letting him walk. In the electronics department, Soccer was playing on all the big beautiful TVs. He bolted away from me shouting "Bay-ball, Bay-ball" (all sports are baseball).

When I caught him I yanked him up as roughly as I dared in public and shoved him into the cart. He screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed. For those of you who don't know what Monkey Boy looks like when he screams here is a picture.



It's not pretty. I think he could fit a Volleyball in his mouth.

We headed over to the fabric dept. where he continued his display of displeasure. I spied several women including the Fabric Cutter giving me, "Good hell, that kid is out of contol," and "Why can't that mom shut that brat up" and "She must be a horrid mother," looks. Mighty judgmental for shoppers of "The Store that Must not be Named" if you ask me.

Out at the car he ran away again so I pinned him with my leg against the back of the 4-runner while I loaded my purchases in the car.

He tormented Drama Queen all the way home.

Now he is napping and, thank the Lord, by the time we got home all that screaming had made him tired enough he went down without a fight.

I dread waking him up, but it must be done. I have to pick up Drama Queen from pre-school. I love being a stay-at-home mom! *hint of sarcasm*

Chronicles Chapter 2: Fav Fold and Anybody Want Diapers?

I *heart* flat fold diapers. Reasons: They wash so nice and easy. There aren't a bunch of layers to make sure and get all the pee out of. There aren't a bunch of layers to take 2 hours in the the dryer to dry.

The Gerber flat folds I bought were awful! They are so small they barely fit Angel Baby's little bottom. The fabric they are made out of is a step up from gauze. I tossed those in my scrap pile and made my own. It is simple, just a square of flannel hemmed.

If you can't make your own, I was thinking about making them for people. I need to find out the price of the fabric, so I don't know how much I would need to charge. If you are interested let me know and I will find out the details.


This is the fold I use for my flat fold cloth diapers. I think it is cool.


Step 1

Take the bottom left corner up to the top right corner.

Step 2

Take that same corner you just had and drag it over to the left top corner. It will look like this:


Step 3


Take the bottom corner up and join it with the rest on the top left.

At this point I pick it up, hanging on to all the corners, making sure all the layers stay even on the top and then I shake it so everything straightens out.

Step 4


Fold the top layer 2 times so it looks like this:


Bonus Step


I turn the edges in a little so there is a little less bulk between Angel Baby's wee thighs.

And Wahla!

Promises Made to be Boken

Dancing Queen and I had to have a little "heart 2 heart" last night after she got a "GO TO BED WITH NO STORIES!!!!" from her dad. Ahhh, parenting. I have so much respect for moms who have to go it alone. It would be hard to be Good Cop and Bad Cop at the same time.


So, back to the H2H. During this little moment she made a promise to listen. This is how well she is accomplishing that goal.

10 min after H2H - "Dancing Queen stop singing and go to sleep"

12 min after H2H - "DQ stop singing and go to sleep! Remember your promise?" DQ - "Oh sorry, I forgot.

13 min after H2H - Mom bursts into room, "STOP SINGING AND GO TO SLEEP!!!" Mom takes toy she has been singing to.

Next day- preparing to go out and of course we are late

Mom - Go get dressed.
Mom - Go get dressed.
Mom - GO GET DRESSED!!! Remember your promise?
DQ - Sorry I forgot.

Mom- Get your shoes on.
Mom - Get your shoes on.
Mom - GET YOUR SHOES ON NOW OR I WILL LEAVE YOU!!! (We all know we are not supposed to make empty threats, but I'd bet a million dollars everyone of you has done it!)

Mom - Get in the car.
Go around other side to put screaming Monkey Boy in.
Mom - Kate, get in the car and get in your seat.
Forgot something in the house.
Mom- You better be in that seat when I get back! Remember your promise.
DQ - Oh yeah! I almost forgot!
Come back.
DQ is in the driveway getting the paper.
Mom - "GETINTHECAR!!!GETINTHECAR!!!GETINTHECAR!!!GETINTHECAR!!

Neighbor moving in across the street wonders if he can back out after closing on the sale.

Question for the Ladies

So, if you don't want to read about "The Pill", IUD's and other female related topics you may not want to read this post. This one is for the Ladies.

I want some feedback from real people and not just various pamphlets put out by the drug companies to push their products. I am at the choose your birth control stage of postpartum.

I want the scoop on IUD's Hormone and non, nuva rings, or whatever BC you love.

Chronicles of one Cheap and Dirty Cloth Diapering Mom: Chapter 1

Many of you know of my recent foray into the world of cloth diapering. Well, I think I have finally found the method I plan to use, and am going to stick with it.

I am not cloth diapering because I am worried about the millions of diapers piling up in our landfills, or because I am "Go Green", or because I don't want chemical jelly weirdness on my kid's butt. I am cheap with a capital, bolded, italicized and red C. When I was pregnant, the reality of two kids in diapers hit me in the gut every time I went to Costco and shelled out $40 for about a month's worth of diapers. Soon it would be $80 a month to be pooped on and then thrown in the trash!

So, I started trying things out on the 2 year old Monkey Boy. (I hope someday he will turn into a real boy.) Here is the Low Down, or Down Low, or 411, or whatever kids are calling it these days.

Cheapest

Gerber Plastic Pants - 2 pack for $3.89 - You can get by with 6ish of these. As long as they didn't get "solids" on them, you can rinse them off and re-use. So you would use 2 a day and rotate them.

Flat Fold Diapers - I made mine (Tutorial to follow in another post someday) My mom found the diaper flannel at her local Cheap and Dirty Extravaganza, aka Wal-mart for about $2-3 / yard. I honestly think you could use any flannel or other absorbant fabric too. The Gerber flat folds I bought were crap!

Pros - It is cheap! The diapers dry fast and I think they get cleaner too because there aren't a bunch of layers.

Cons - Takes time to fold them and you either have to pull them out of the dryer right away or press them. They are hard to fold when they are all wrinkly. Getting them on the kid takes more time and skill because you have to pin or Snappi them. (I haven't tried Snappis)

Still Pretty Cheap

Fitted Diapers - I made these too. They take a little more time and are a little more costly because you have to have elastic and velcro, but you could make them out of anything, old T-shirts, old towels for the soaker. Here is one I made for Monkey Boy. I tried to make it more like training pants (Pull-Ups). I need to make adjustments, but it works pretty well.



You still have to have plastic pants over the top or some other kind of diaper cover.

Pros - no need to fold, more user friendly because they go on like a regular diaper.

Cons - take alot more time in the washer and dryer


Affordable-ish

Cool Diaper Covers -

I tried a Bumkins diaper cover ($12.75/ each) on the monkey. Kind of nice because it is made so you don't have to pin the diaper on the baby. Monkey boy hated it. I am not sure if it was because it was too small or the diaper kept shifting around.


Thirsties Duo Wrap - $12.25/ each I heard these are cool. I haven't tried them. The nice thing is they are adjustable and the nicer thing is that they come in 2 sizes because, honestly, there is no way you can make a one size diaper that will fit a new born and a 2 year old.

There are a bazillion other brands. Again you only need like 6ish of them because you can re-use them like the plastic pants. Still you are looking at more than $70 and you have to buy bigger ones as your baby grows.

For all those Trendy Go Greeners who can afford to save the environment, buy locallly grown organic, and drive Hybrids

All in Ones or for those of you down with the lingo, AIO's - Damn cool, but also damn price.

Bumgenius - $18/ each I did buy a 2 pack of these in the beginning. They are awesome. Soft, beautiful, they go on like a regular diaper. The outer layer is water proof and you insert a nice cooshy soaker in kind of a pocket. They claim to be one size, but Monkey Boy's big hinder didn't fit in them at all. They are working pretty well on Little One. He is probably in the 9 lb range.

Again there are alot of different brand options here. They are made with all sorts of organic, environment friendly renewable resources like Bamboo and stuff.

Pros - Convenient and cool. Good for dads who are skeptical of their crazy wives cloth diapering notions.

Cons - You can't re-use them so, you would have to have at least 2 days worth if you did laundry every day. At 18 bucks a piece, holy poop, that is a lot of money.

A Few Other Details

Liners - I haven't purchased these yet because Monkey Boy poops on a schedule. I have been using Disposables when I know a poop is coming, but now that I am going to switch completely over to cloth, I think it is well worth the few extra bucks.

Washing - I have read that you can keep your diapers in a pail with water and Borax to prevent stink. Also, throwing some Borax in with the laundry soap is supposed to remove pee smell. Going to try that as soon as I can get the courage to haul 2 monsters and an angel baby to the grocery store.

I have been using 2 wash cycles and an extra rinse at the end to wash diapers, but I think with flat folds only you could just wash once on the "Heavy Soil" cycle. I don't put any of the diaper covers in the dryer.

So there it is. Most of what I know about cloth diapering. I will post more information as I go. Also I will post some "How To's" on folding and sewing.

Have courage and tell your husbands to suck it up and deal!

Necessities

A mom of 3 must have copious amounts of Diet Coke and Ibuprofen in order to survive.

A really long handled paddle enabling me to beat a child misbehaving on the other side of the room would be helpful too.

New Rules of the Walker House

1. Don't touch the baby!

2. When Baby is sleeping, do not forcefully shove the binky in his mouth.

3. Do not hug, lay your head on or squeeze the baby.

4. Do not try and get a reaction by screaming at sleeping baby.

5. Do not kiss the baby while he is eating. Mom needs her space during feeding time.

6. Yes, Mom is glad you can say "eye" and that you know which body part it is, but please refrain from poking Baby in the eye.

7. Do not talk about his poop, his pee or ask questions about his "circle thing that he goes pee out of."

8. Do not laugh about the time Baby shot poop all over Mom.

9. Do not ask questions about the feeding process.

10. Do not point out that Mom's belly is still big or that it is really soft and squishy.

11. While Mom is feeding baby do not go in her bathroom and play in her make-up, pour yourself a glass of milk, play with sharp knives, or beat the hell out of each other.

12. Don't touch the baby!

Bungeyes, Unwanted Advice, and Other Things that Piss Me Off!

I honestly have tried to refrain from bitching and moaning about being pregnant. You are probably saying to yourself, "Really? Because that is all she writes about latley." Well, I have limited myself. I could write everyday about the new horrors I have faced, like peeing my pants at Marshals or the stupid ass that asked me if I was having twins.

I wish people would quit saying things to me like, "What are you still doing here? I thought that you would be at home with a new baby." or "How far along are you?" "When are you due?" or some other assinine question lets me know they are thinking, "Good hell she is huge, I wonder how she can still be standing upright?"

The other thing I get lately is advice and old wives tales on how to get labor started. "Yes, I have tried taking long walks. Yes, I have tried spicy food. Yes, I have . . . um. . . I really don't like to talk about that with people at church. Yes, I have coughed, sneezed and rubbed my tummy while patting my head."

I am also tired of people staring at me. I catch them staring and I give them the stink eye while in my mind I yell, "What are ya staring at Bung Eyes?!" Usually a few minutes later I reach down and realize 6 inches of my stretch marked belly are hanging below my shirt. Aww, that explained the look of shocked disgust on their faces.

I have been to the hospital twice now, but with no luck. I am positive if I were in Logan I would have had this baby already. Instead of having a Triage Dr. at the hospital they would actually call your doctor (you know the one that actually knows what the hell is going on) and ask him what to do. Oh, and speaking of my Dr., she of course is out of town along with the majority of the other dr.'s in the office. Good Hell!!!!! I have been totally happy with my prenatal care up to this point but what kind of OB office allows the majority of their dr.'s to go on vacation at the same time. I can't get an appointment and who the hell is going to deliver my baby!!!!!

"Get Out Baby!" or Updates on the Lack of Delivery

Thursday night I started having contractions at midnight. I have been having contractions for months now, but these were more hurty and got closer together. At around 4 am they were 5ish minutes apart, so we decided to go to the hospital and get this thing over with.

Got to the hospital, had a hard time walking to the labor and delivery wing because of the ouchy, sat down in their waiting room, and the contractions stopped. Nice! They checked me out and sent me home. Very anticlimactic.

I think maybe the problem is this boy is trying to come out the wrong way because his head is constantly pushing on my bladder. "Sorry kiddo, back it up and try again. Aim a little more towards the rear this time." Every time I have one of those "painless" Braxton Hicks contractions I have to run to the bathroom before I pee my pants. It is getting old.

Some guy at John's work said I couldn't have the baby until Wednesday because they needed to paint the lines on the agility field. Apparently they can't push the painter without him.

I told John to have the guy come say that to my face, so I could kick him in the bladder a few hundred times. I am thinking he would come to the realization that he could probably figure out how to push a painter without John's help.

Anyway, no baby yet, tired of baby head bashing my bladder, tired of peeing, tired of waiting and wondering. Wishing this kid would just hurry up and get here already.

Better

Friday was much, much better.

Fecal Thursday

- Wake up grumpy, sore, still tired. . . nothing new I'm 8 mo. Preggo.

- Go to Mommy club at Splash Park. . . No one else showed.

- On way home stop and get gas. . . After I was done pumping, the car wouldn't start.

- Drink 2 Diet Cokes . . . rather than give me a happy lift, I end up more irritable.

- Sit down to a nice chat on Facebook. . . Jonas takes off poopy diaper while in his crib and smears poo everywhere. Positive note- Cleaning it up didn't make me puke, thanks to a bandanna sprayed with vanilla linen freshener tied around my face.

- Sit down to enjoy some TV. . . Big crash or maybe kind of a "thud, glug, glug" sound comes from the hallway. I had a brand new Costco size bottle of fabric softener sitting on top of the dryer. While I was drying the now clean poop sheets, the vibrations caused humongous bottle to fall on the floor and explode! Plus side - Now the floor is so slick and slimy the kids can skate on it. Entertainment for hours!

- Finally, lay down in bed for another restless, toss and turny night. . . Dinner doesn't agree with me. Go throw up. Sleep on the couch in order to keep head propped up and what's left of dinner in tummy.

Here's to hoping today is better.

Rainy Day

It rained all night last night and it is gloomy and gray outside. I am curled in the arm chair with a blanket, hot cup of tea in hand. I turned the air conditioner way up so I can pretend it is the kind of rainy day I miss and not the hot and steamy Arizona kind.

A few things that probably should have been said to people's faces, but in my usual avoid confrontation way didn't get said and are now eating at me

I am tired of all the wailing and gnashing of teeth over socialized medicine. Um, last I heard that wasn't the plan being tossed around. Do you honestly think all those happy little argumentative Washington people would sign off on socialized medicine? No way, the insurance companies are lining far too many of their pockets. I just wish all you soap boxers and doom and gloomers would stop being so negative and quit posting your propaganda all over the web, cuz guess what, we need health care reform.

Have you ever not been able to take your kid to the doctor because you couldn't afford it? When we didn't have insurance, I didn't have the opportunity to wait in line like a Canadian to get care for my kid. I just didn't get care.

Or how about this little fantastic episode. A few months ago my 1 year old son had a frightening case of croup. When he tried to inhale he was pulling so hard that not only the little soft spot in his neck sucked in, but his entire stomach caved in. I could see his rib cage with every breath. I took him to the all night instacare and the receptionist honestly said, "He doesn't have a fever? Do you know how expensive a visit here is?" The kid could barely breath and they were trying to turn me away! I told them I had insurance and suddenly it was okay for me to be there. While we were getting treated, the nurse said she had never seen a kid struggling that much to breath. I have to wonder what happens to the equally terrified mom who comes in and doesn't have insurance.

I know people whose medications cost them half their monthly salary. I know people who have been turned away from insurance companies or can only get extremely high priced plans because they have a pre-existing condition. Those of you whose insurance is happily covered by your work, do you know how much insurance costs if you are self employed or if your job doesn't cover it? At one point we paid almost $300 a month just to add Kate onto my plan since my job only covered me. $300 when my job was already paying equal to that for me, so, close to $600 a month?!? There has got to be something better than this! I just pray that by the time they sign off on a plan that makes everyone happy, it actually makes things better! If not, maybe I will move to Canada and see just how bad socialized medicine is first hand.

Someday. . .

. . . I won't have to pack a 50 lb. "mom bag" everywhere I go.

. . . I will be able to take a long luxurious shower without worrying that someone will chop his/her finger off while I am in the bathroom.

. . . I will be able to poop in peace.

. . . I will not have to mow the lawn because the boys will be old enough to do it.

. . . I will be able to go to the grocery store alone.

. . . I will have enough money to remove some of my excess boobage and pick them up off my belly button.

. . . my house will stay clean for longer than 1.5 seconds.

. . . every statement or question directed at me won't begin with the words, "Um Mom"

. . . I won't have to deal with so much poop. (I mean that literally, not figuratively. One always has to deal with the figurative kind.)

. . . I will be able to sit down to a nice family dinner where everyone uses utensils and no one rubs food in their hair.

. . . I will not have to share every morsel of food I have.

. . . I will be able to have nice cold drink without someone putting their slimy hands in it and stealing my ice.

Metamorphosis

I am afraid I may be morphing into Mama Fratelli. I can feel my face scrunching into a permanent scowl. Everything I say comes out in a growl and includes a threat.

I often find myself shoving the kids out of my bedroom door, slamming it shut and, in a very Mama-esque way, leaning my weary frumpy body against the door, heaving an exasperated sigh and grumbling, "Kids Suck."

It is probably a good thing we don't own a blender.

Apparently I'm not the only mother that has gone through this transformation. Bill Cosby's wife had the same problem.

Discussions with the 4 Year Old

Me: Kate! Don't jump on the couch!

Kate: Why?

Me: Because you will break the couch!

Kate: And then what?

Me: Then we won't have a couch to sit on!

Kate: And then what?

Me: Then you will stand in the corner!

Kate: And then what?

Me: Then you will lose a movie!

Kate: And then what?

Me: Then I will beat your butt!

Kate: And then what?

What Happens at the Splash Park, Stays and the Splash Park

I love splash parks! They are the greatest invention. Swimming without worrying about drowning. Awesome!

Something I have noticed about splash parks in my daily trips.

The kids love them too. More precisely they love the jets that shoot from the ground.

Where there is a jet, there is a little one squatting or sitting on it and an embarrassed mom gently trying to shoo them off without drawing attention to herself.

The kids line up, waiting their turn for a jet squat. My darling little Jonas is a jet hog. He doesn't let anyone else have a turn. Apparently he has discovered that a nice powerful stream of cool water feels good on the junk. I am the embarrassed parent who gave up on shooing him off and just sits on the bench mortified, yet trying not to snicker.

Repeated Conversation with a Crazy Pregnant Lady over a 12 Hour Car Trip

Katrina: Did you turn the AC off again?!?

John: Sheepish look

Katrina: If you touch the AC again I am going to break your finger off!

John: Shivering uncontrollably But it is freeeeeezing.

Katrina: Smiling sweetly Better frozen than minus digits.

If Only I Were as Funny

I read "The Toddler Contract" in a parenting magazine at my sis-n-law's house.

These are the highlights:

I. Food

5. For dinner I will have macaroni and cheese. Any attempts to give me vegetables in addition to the macaroni and cheese will result in tears.

a. And don't you dare hide anything in the cheese sauce, because, my God, how you will rue the day.

II. Television

1. The TV will be on all the time unless I say differently. You are to sit by my side, quietly, hands folded in lap, while I watch my shows.

a. You may arise to fetch me a snack.

III. Toys.

1. There will be many.

a. They will always be strewn about the house so that I amay simply reach down and pick up a toy, no matter where I am.

b. They will be loud, complicated, and contain many small pieces. I enjoy shooting noises that go w-shoooooop! or zim zim zim.

c. Nothing that results in any type of learning, please.

Thank you Parenting magazine writer, Alice Bradley, where ever you may be, for giving me a little chuckle.

I Never Gave My Cat a Name; How Can I Name a Baby?

Naming kids is the hardest thing ever. It has to be a meaningful name, something the kid will be proud of, live up to. The first, middle and last name need to sound good when said all together. You don't want to give the kid the same name as half of the other babies his age. Sheesh. So much pressure. I hate it.

Here are some names I have been rolling around in my brain.

William Marquis Walker (Marquis is a family name on John's side it is pronounced "mark - us". Always liked it and wanted to use it as a middle name, but as you will read later, it has its issues.)

or the other way around

Marquis William Walker (then his teachers will never pronounce his name correctly)

I have issues with William which are too long and too stupid to discuss.

Love the name Fynn, but how to put it with Marquis.
Fynn Marquis - doesn't flow,
Marquis Fynn - going by middle name is always confusing,
Phineus Marquis- sounds ridiculous.

My mom suggested I use her maiden name as a name, Lewis. Not bad. But again it doesn't go with Marquis very well. "Lewis Marquis Aurelius"

Then there is Aiden. Always loved this name. It has been on the top 10 baby names list for as long as I have been naming kids though.

Or maybe Lucas. He could go by Luke and his middle name could be Sky. Luke Sky Walker!

A Few More Confessions

I watch R rated movies and I like them.

I also read "dirty" books.

I don't watch or read trash. It must be "praiseworthy and of good report."

Life isn't rated PG. Most of life's most profound and meaningful moments are rated R.

Yakkity Yak

I remember when Kate first started cooing. We grabbed the video camera and tried to immortalize her cute little voice.

Now, I wish I could find the duct tape.

Nasty Little Bastards!!!!

Kate has been getting bug bites since we moved here. She only got them once in a while and at first we attributed them to the fire ants in our front yard. However, last time she got them she hadn't been in the front yard.

So, I began searching her room. I got the flash light, pulled the bed out from the wall and searched for the guilty party. I expected to find a spider. No, not a spider, a weird little flat bug with his nose buried in the carpet. I scooped the little guy up in a princess teacup, and took him into John and the computer.

Hmmm, not a beetle, not a flea, not a brown dog tick, a BED BUG!!!! What in the hell?!?!?!?!? I feel the bile rising to the surface.

As we continue to educate ourselves on everything bed bug, from the history to the methods of extermination, my nausea increases and I am on the verge of tears. Apparently the little bastards can survive for over a year with out a "blood meal." They just hide in a crack somewhere and wait for a new warm body to show up. They were most likely lying in wait when we moved into the house. (At least I don't remember picking up any used mattresses off the side of the road?)

After about 1/2 an hour of John researching and reporting the gruesome details, I am ready to start a bonfire in the backyard, burn all of our furniture, and move to a new house.

When I told John my plans, he said, "No."

The good news is: 1) we must not have a lot of them because we can't find all the other signs, like spotted mattress and walls from the little bastards' poop. 2) They generally don't spread to the rest of the house. 3) If they are in the bedding and stuffed animals all we have to do is pop them in the dryer for a few minutes and burn the little bastards and their spawn up. 4)John can spray the floor and walls once a week for a while and they should be taken care of.

I have quarantined Kate's room, she is now sleeping in the guest room, and I am dreaming of bed bugs the size of golf balls attacking me while I try and beat them to death with a sippy cup.

Nothing New Under the Sun

This is kind of a follow-up to my post about Eragon.

I have come to the conclusion that if you have seen the Star Wars Trilogy and read the Tolkien books, you have seen just about every Fantasy plot line out there. And just to illustrate my point.

Thoroughly enjoyed the new Star Trek by the way! Just because it has been done over and over and over and over and over doesn't stop it from being incredibly entertaining

No Modesty in this Family

Every one of my kids has been proud to show us their parts.



"Um, I am not sure what I am looking at here. Could you maybe point another finger at it."
Sheesh, the technician must love pointy fingers.

Confessions of a Mormon Realist

I don't see anything wrong with drinking decaf coffee or tea.

I love iced tea and have a jug of it in the fridge most of the time. I tell the kids it is punch.

I do think there is something wrong with drinking Diet Pepsi, but I can't stop.

Something interesting I noticed while studying the Word of Wisdom. It says we can drink mild barley drinks (D&C 89:17). The only mild barley drink I know of is beer. Hmmmm?!?

Boy or Girl?!?

Thought I would try out the poll thing. We are hopefully finding out on Friday!!!!

Eragon and the Idiot Who Has to Finish Reading it

I picked up Eragon the other day. I was bored, too lazy to go to the bookstore and too lazy to read anything really thought provoking. Thought provoking, Eragon is definitly not!

I am confused by why this book was such a huge hit. I am a little over halfway finished and this is how I would sum up the adventures of Eragon.

Travel a really long time to some city, make an asinine mistake, get attacked, in the process end up unconscious, get sorry ass rescued. Repeat and repeat and repeat.

I admit I am not a fan of fantasy, but this seems more tedious than the regular run of the mill fantasy/hero's journey. And what is it with his relationship with this dragon. Seems a little weird to me. I think maybe the author has some secret unclean thoughts about dragon lovin'. (Poor, unfortunate, socially awkward, homeschooled child)

And the biggest lame-o in this whole scenario is me. Cuz guess what, I am going to spend the entire day finishing the stupid book. Will he be able to save beautiful elf girl in his dreams? (Not that it matters, unless she is into sweet dragon three-somes) Who is Murtagh? And how the hell is stupid Eragon going to destroy the Empire?

Wait I see it all clearly now! Let me guess, big bad king dude is his father? "Eragon, I am your faaatheeer"


Kid raised by uncle who is tragically killed, kid goes to seek revenge and becomes a Jedi, oh I mean Dragon Rider. Kid is guided by old dude who turns out to be a Jedi, oh I mean Dragon Rider in hiding. Old dude dies forcing kid to test his own strength and knowledge. Kid then joins the Rebel forces, oh I mean the Varden.

If I keep reading maybe there will be Ewoks!

Joys of Motherhood

Top 10 things I love about being Mom.

10. Tension headaches!
9. Waking early every morning to gigantic, stinky, poopy diaper.
8. The mom stutter. "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" or "NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!"
7. Cheerios on the floor, in my purse, in the car, in my bed, in the couch, . . . you get the idea.
8. Kate screaming from the bathroom, "I'm done!"
7. Permanent black marker all over the legs of our new table. (I swear we didn't even own a permanent black marker. Where the hell did he find that!?!"
6. Milk art on the carpet created with a drippy bottle.
5. When I forget I am in public and yell at the kid in my demon voice. Everyone stares at me with the "Wo, she's a psycho mom" look and then they give the children a look of pity.
4. Having to clean the stashed sippy or bottle now containing some sort of cheese rather than milk.
3. Needing to mop the kitchen floor everyday. (Needing to, not actually doing)
2. Kate telling everyone in line at the grocery store that I am an idiot. (I made a mistake filling out a deposit slip at the bank and said to the bank teller, "Sorry I'm an idiot." Kate won't let me forget it. She tells everyone!)
1. Jonas using my nipples as a hand hold for pulling himself up onto my lap.

Worst Calling Ever!

Please Heavenly Father, never ask me to be a nursery leader! I will say, "Noooooo."

10-15 18 mo. - 2 year olds, bawling, stinking, snotting. Shut in one room for 2 hours. After church is over and I pick up Jonas (who of course is sweet smelling, smiling, and clean) the room is warm, moist and smells like pee.

Baseball Hotty

Okay, let's face it, the only thing I find interesting about watching baseball is the players. Apparently the player that has the largest female following on the Indians team is this fellow.

His name is Grady Sizemore and here is the picture I took of his backside wishing I had a camera with a better zoom.

Homesick

Last night I dreamed of Logan. It was Spring. Everything was green and wet.

Surprise!

So, yup folks, I am preggalicious, with child, in a family way, knocked up or got a bun in the oven, which ever euphemism you prefer. I have not wanted to tell people because of the huge amount of words I now have to eat. All those things I have said like, "Geeze! 2 years apart might have been a little too soon, I am waiting for at least another year." and "I am NOT ready to have another one." and "I think I will wait until Jonas is potty trained, then I won't have two in diapers" and "Eegads, I want to loose like 100 lbs. before I get pregnant again."

I have decided to come clean and spill the beans because my mom is dying to tell everyone and I think I am finally coming to terms with the situation. I admit I wasn't happy with the happy news. All my plans to loose weight, get in shape and run the Disneyland 1/2 marathon went in the garbage along with the double pink lined pee stick.

But now, I think I am okay with all of this. I am realizing if I want my kids to be better friends they probably need to be closer than 4 years apart. 2 1/2 years really is good spacing for them, even if it doesn't seem like it is for me. I also believe things like this usually happen for a reason. There is divine design in all our lives. Sometimes I wonder if I ever really would have been ready to have number 3. Maybe this is God's way of keeping things moving in the right direction, or maybe he just enjoys a good laugh now and then.

The Grass Man's Backyard

Yes my friends, that is outdoor carpet.

In all fairness I am the one that asked him to put it down. I was hoping it would help keep some of the sand out of my kitchen. Alas, Jonas brings it in by the handful.

Church, Our Weekly Dose of Torture

It begins before we even step foot inside the church. I really thought this morning we would be in good shape because I was up, kids were fed and getting in the tub at 10. Church is at 11:30 so we had 1 hour and 20 minutes to get it together.

John is awake and we were on a roll. Shrieks from the bathtub pierce my ears. "Jonas! Stop beating your sister with the mermaid Barbie!" "Kate! You have to let him have some of the toys. You can't hog all 75 tub toys!" Putting on make-up, getting hit in the leg by a flying yellow duck, we still aren't doing so bad. John baths the kids and I get my hair done.

Kate's turn to get dressed. "I want to wear my purple Daphne shoes."

"No!

Whiny, "But why? I want to!" Cry, cry, whine whine.

"They don't match, they are dirty and they stink! Put your church shoes on!"

"I want da. . . "

"I don't care, put these on before I kick your Daphne hiney!"

It is 11:20. Kids both ready, Mom ready, church bag weighing approx. 500 lbs almost ready. Walk into kitchen. Hubby eating breakfast, shirt on, pants on, no socks, no tie, no shoes, no shave. What?!? Wife explodes.

Go put kids in car while hubby finishes getting ready. Jonas turns into an unbendable, kicking, grunting octopus as I try to shove him in the car seat and get him buckled. Kate climbs all over the car, anywhere but her seat. "Get in your car seat and buckle yourself this instant!!!!" My eyes squinty. Is that a smoke starting to curl from my ears?

Arrive at church in time for sacrament. In our world that is on time, but we have to sit in the cultural hall, so far back we are up against the stage. I can barely make out the pulpit from this distance.

Jonas starts to run away. I grab onto his arm to prevent him from escaping. He is okay with this for a little while then he begins to lean. If I let go he will crash to the ground, smack his head and begin screaming so I let him down to the floor gently. He gets up, I grab his arm again. Soon he realizes that while he is still lying on the ground he can scoot away from me. Then when he stands up he will be out of my reach and can run like lighting.

This entire time Kate is trying to climb in my lap, play with my jewelry, rub my hair, grind her sharp chin into my sternum, and make me read to her.

I give up. I take Jonas out where I have to chase him in the halls and keep him from running back into the chapel.

A few minutes later, John joins me with Kate.

Finally Sacrament meeting is over. Hooray for Primary! After we drop the kids off we look in each others haggard faces. "So, how about we just leave the kids and go to Sonic instead of Gospel Doctrine. I need a Diet Coke!" I suggest. We seriously consider it and then drag ourselves back into the chapel.

Don't remember much about the GD lesson I was still decompressing..

The relief society lesson was on being reverent and keeping the proper spirit during Sacrament meeting. One of the quotes in the lesson honestly said something about it being better to sleep during the meeting than to read the Ensign because the sound of turning pages might disrupt those around you. Umm Yeah right! Like you can hear magazine pages turning over the sounds of all the families just like mine barely keeping it together.

And why do we keep going? Because Kate learned about Daniel and the Lion's Den and about how Jesus is magic. And geeze life would be difficult without faith, eternal families, a loving God and Savior.

Confession

I admit it. I hate living here! I have tried to be positive, and it will get better when we meet some people, and wow, the weather is great. It sucks. There are no trees and I am sick of having no friends and I want to go home.

Me Mum's Scarf

I got this swell idea in November to knit scarves for Christmas gifts. I only finished one for me mum.

This year I am starting early. I am in the middle of two now! Okay, so one is just so damn cute I can't part with it, but hopefully by December I will have a some to give away and not a whole pile of them for me!

Oh, and if you say I am crafty I will sock you in the nose. I am not Crafty!

I am a Baker! I Bake!

While my mom was at my house she threatened to take one of my Christmas presents away. It was a big, beautiful book on baking (try and say that 3 times fast). Her reasons for this were as follows:

1. When I pulled out my Kitchen Aide to make Christmas cookies it had cobwebs in it.

2. I had none of the basic baking ingredients on hand, no shortening, no brown sugar, only 2 cups of regular sugar. Hey at least I had flour!

3. Each time my mom got frustrated, I replied, "Hey! I don't bake!"

The reasons I don't bake are:

1. Baking = high fat, high sugar, no nutrition. If it isn't those things it is gagga magga!

2. If there is a pan of brownies in my house, I have to eat it, all of it, and I am not happy until it is gone!

3. Not really all that skilled. I understand cooking, spices, ways to thicken things, substitutions that work. Baking - - not so much. I don't understand why things will raise or go flat or how a batter should look to achieve desired results.

So, I decided to get over my irrational fears. If I bake once in a while it is not going to kill me, and if I don't do it I will never learn the skills, and the things in that book look really good.

I am now going to bake on Sundays. This Sunday I made Cherry Pie.

And here is the recipe:

1. Go to the freezer and get Marie Callender's frozen cherry pie. (The brand is important. Marie is the only one who can make a decent cherry!)

2. Take the pie out of the box, remove the plastic, and put it on a cookie sheet. If you don't remove the plastic, you will be really disappointed.

3. Read the directions on the box. Turn on the oven. Honestly, who has the foresight to pre-heat?

4. Pop that baby in the oven and bake.

Serve with vanilla ice cream on top.

Not Sure a Cat is a Good Pet for Toddlers

Sometimes I am amazed that Kitty even steps foot inside our house. Kate likes to pin her, trap her, and squish her in an effort to "play" with her. Carry her around by her neck, drag her along the floor by her collar, attach various belts and ties to her collar. Good Grief! It is not surprising that Kate is usually sporting several cat scratches on her arms and sometimes face.

Yesterday Kate had to stand in the corner for 10 minutes and lost 2 Scooby Doo videos after she clipped a strap from her dance bag to the cat and then to a binky, pinned the cat under her bed, and the final straw was when I went in her room and the cat was locked inside the oven of her new toy kitchen set. Mmmm Kitty Caserole! I am sure Kate would be happy to give you the recipe.

I guess it isn't as bad as John's cousin's kids who gave their cat a bath with vaseline. The cat and I should be grateful I guess.