The Worst Public Tantrum Ever

Aye, yi, yi.

So, I'm not sure what has crawled up my toddler's mini britches, but lately he has been a mad dog. I mean, really hard to deal with.

I know he is entering the "I can do it by myself so get out of my freaking way" phase of todderhood. But, does that really mean he has to throw scrambled eggs at the Christmas tree and have a meltdown when I keep him from chasing the dog under the bed? Does that really mean he has to throw a tantrum when I wipe his nose so that the boogers smear across the carpet and weild the toilet cleaning brush like a sword until I try to grab it from him, which just causes him to run from the bathroom to our bedroom where he rubs the dirty, poopy, uriney, brush end all over our bed? I mean, really.

And he used to be well-behaved for a one-yr old in Wal-Mart, Target, places like that. I say "used to be" to indicate that he isn't anymore. Not after yesterday.

So, yesterday's trip to Wal-Mart started out rocky from the get-go. Max has begun a new "bye-bye" routine which includes kicking his legs and screaming when I try to buckle him in his car sear. He wants to buckle himself into his car seat. Problem? He is one year old and can't do it. Those buckles are baby-proof for a reason. But, if we want to go anywhere, I have to start the car, so eventually I take over and buckle his car seat. Meltdown.

So, from the beginning, he was crying. When we get to Wal-Mart, I put him in his stroller and he starts screaming and kicking his legs again. This time, I have no idea why. It is one of those mystery cries which have driven mommies all over the world to drinking. But, I figure he will quit once we get inside, so I keep going.

I enter Wal-Mart on the produce side, right in front of all the registers, cashiers and the people waiting in line who have nothing better to do than stare at the woman with the tortured toddler. He is just screaming louder now. I am thinking, "Oh, nightmare of nightmares, please make it stop. If I take him out of his stroller and carry him, maybe his head will stop spinning like Linda Blair."

Boy, I was wrong. When I tried to take him out of his stroller, he screamed louder, if that was possible, and started kicking his legs and pushing against my face with his little fists. His legs were stuck under the tray table on his stroller and I was pulling and pulling while he tried to punch my head off my body. A man walked by and said, "Is he mad or is he mad?" Yes, he's mad. If you couldn't tell.

By this point, my face was bright red and I refused to look up and see how many people were staring at the scene we were making. But, I wasn't going to let him win. I wasn't going to leave completely defeated and humiliated. I was at least going to get some of the things on my list. Whatever I could carry while carrying my son and pushing his stroller. I must have looked totally out of my mind.

Well, turns out all I could carry was orange juice, a jar of lil' sausages, and fruit strips. Forget the toilet paper. Forget the eye make-up remover. My son was starting to scare people. They were peeking around the ends of aisles to look at us.

So, I left, after the check-out girl commented on my son's runny nose, like I didn't know he had one. My son cried all the way home and the minute we walked into the house, it was like none of it ever happened and he was the happiest little bugger you've ever seen.

So, did he win? I don't know. Let's call it a tie.

The Word of the Day: RUSH

So, it is done. Thank the heavens above.

And yes, I am talking about Christmas. Call me Mr. Grinch. Call me the Oogie Boogie Man. But, it was just all too much this year. I became so tired of RUSHing around, towing a weary one-year old on my decrepit hip that I had a couple of breakdowns and was sporting a fine, bad attitude.

I never thought I would say this but...burn the tree and pour the eggnog down the toilet. I'm over it.

I've been reading some of your posts and most of you had wonderful Christmas mornings, full of laughs, relaxation, grateful tears and spending the day in your jam jams.

My day started out with dog poop under the bed, a broken dishwasher, and dog pee all over our couch, nicely soaked in to the cushions and down into the springs. Merry Christmas.

Did I mention my son was, and still is, sick?

After cleaning the dog messes and kicking the dishwasher (and my own private temper tantrum in the bathroom where my toothbrush bore the brunt of my holiday angst), we RUSHed out to my mom's house with onions for the breakfast casserole, only to have to RUSH back home two hours later to put our sickly son down for his nap.

After his nap, we had to RUSH through feeding him in order to RUSH to my sister-in-law's house for Christmas dinner. And we barely made it. Atleast this celebration was at night and I could have booze. Which I did.

Besides the rushing, I had my husband, full of festive sarcasm, exclaiming everything that happened that day was a Christmas miracle. "The dog pooped under the bed, but atleast it's already dried and hard! It's a Christmas Miracle!" "The dog peed on the couch, but atleast her stream missed the baby! It's a Christmas Miracle!"

There was just too much RUSHing this year. We have spent a few evenings in a row at my mother's house, which has been great, but this has caused us to have to RUSH home every night to put our son to bed because it ends up being way past his bedtime. And he just keeps getting sicker, probably from lack of sleep.

So, it is done. And I am glad. I'm over the RUSHing. I think from now until the end of the year, I am going to be late everywhere I go. On purpose. Just relax and take my time. Time may march on, but I'm shuffling from here on out. Maybe even walking backwards. Father Time can kiss my ass.

Now, I've got to go practice my post-holiday meditation breathing and buy a new toothbrush.

Consistency. What's that? So, I'll see you in 2010?

So, I'm not very good at participating in memes, or blog hops, or weekly posts like Wordless Wednesday. I'm not consistent in my writing because I don't have a laptop to take with me into other rooms. Our computer sits among homeless notebooks, scrapbooking supplies, boxes of my husband's work stuff, two desks, lots of stacks of papers, and various other lost souls in the office/junk room/God-help-me-if-I-have-to-spend-one-more-minute-in-this-ninth-circle-of-hell room. We've never cleaned out our "office" because it will one day be our second child's room (and no, I'm not pregnant, just planning for the future so we can put off cleaning out that room a little longer).

Anyway, if I blog every day, then that is less time spent with my family in the evenings because I am isolated in the "office". Let's just call it the baby's room. That makes me feel like the room has a purpose besides sending me into Anxiety-ville.

The other problem is that we live in a home built in the 1950's and it has ZERO storage for those things that you don't use but you don't want to get rid of either. Like my husband's concert t-shirts from the eight bazillion U2 concerts he has seen. Or my husband's Star Wars toys from when he was a kid, or his bachelor pad wall art that looked like it should be hanging in a motel that I took down the minute I moved in with him four years ago. Or my college notebooks and textbooks. Or my sad scrapbooking supplies that sit waiting for me to have a free day (don't hold your breath, poor little scrapbooking supplies). Or my Christmas and birthday wrapping supplies. Or boxes of old pictures and board games. You get the picture.

And, once that room does become a bedroom someday, where in the heckaroonie (I've been watching too much Pinky Dinky Doo) are we going to put our computer and all that "important" jazz?

Anyway, I'm not sure how I got off subject. I think I started off subject.

The reason for this post is to say that I am signing off until after Christmas for lack of extra time. I want to spend as much time as possible with my family and friends in the next week and a half. My sister and her husband are coming to town (Yay!) and I've got baking to do, and a Christmas party to attend, and presents to wrap, and cleaning to avoid, and sweets to eat, and hot chocolate to drink, and movies to watch, and I'm busy busy!

I will be reading your posts, though. I'm not going totally cold turkey. Maybe I'll finally be able to catch up on all of my reading. And I'll be back after I eat all the chocolatey sweets I possibly can. And then we will chronicle all the weight I will need to lose. I've already gained five pounds since the beginning of October. Stupid Halloween candy and Thanksgiving brownies and hot chocolate marshmallows and whipped cream, chocolate chip cookies, and ice cream. I might have developed a teensy, weensy addiction to sugar over the last three months. Oops.

I'll write again after Christmas or after the New Year. Not sure which.

Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Hanukkah, Happy New Year, and Happy anything else you might celebrate this time of year! Thank you so much to all of you who regularly read and comment on my blog. I am so grateful!

Holy Mackerel! It's almost Christmas!! HO HO HO!

Food Shmood.

So, really, I don't know how my almost 16-month old son survives on the small amounts of food he eats every day.

Last night for dinner, he ate one fish stick and about a tablespoon of potatoes. That's it.

He spits out every vegetable (except potatoes, and really, do those count?), he doesn't eat any fruits except bananas and blueberries (and that is because I hide the blueberries in his oatmeal). He usually won't eat meat unless it comes breaded. Any healthy meats that come breaded? Any animals born breaded? None that I can think of.

How does he have so much energy? Where does it come from? He hardly eats. Isn't food supposed to be fuel for our bodies? Didn't we learn that in like second grade? From Slim Goodbody?

That guy always kind of freaked me out.

Anyway, so how does he have the energy to dig into the dog food thirty times a day, or climb on the dining room chairs, or run from room to room like he's running from a fire, or chase the dogs until they are wimpering for mercy, or dump out the trash cans, or wiggle until he has broken free from his highchair, or push over the humidifiers and dance a jig in the water that is now flowing across the floor?

When is the down time? Do little boys not EVER just wanna chillax with some Sesame Street, feet propped up on some nesting blocks, sippy cup of milk in hand, hand down the front of his tiny pants, remote guarded like the Holy Grail? Aren't they supposed to emulate their fathers? Hasn't he seen my husband watching UFC? The History Channel? Spike TV?

Honestly, I can't eat enough food to keep up with him. I am constantly hungry. This kid amazes me. How a child can thrive on yogurt and applesauce, I'll never understand. But, somehow, he is growing. He is in the 95% for height. How is this possible?

My husband tells me not to worry so much and that he won't just eat grilled cheese sandwiches and scrambled eggs forever. But, I'm his mommy. Hello? Isn't it my job to worry whether or not he is eating enough of the right kinds of foods? Or eating enough period?

How much do your kids eat?

Docs and Pee Sticks and Dancing on the Table

So, I hope everyone had a chance to read my last post. If not, read up and donate what you can!! Emma will be so excited to get her bike and you can feel great that you helped make that smile on her face happen!

Now, since I left my site for a week, here is what you missed. Are you biting at the bit to read about this glamorous life? Me too! Whose life are we reading about? I want to read about someone's glamorous life. Because mine is...not.

Here we go.

Monday. I took my son to a new doctor for his 15-month well-child check-up. Now that our son is on government health insurance, we had to go to whatever doctor the state assigned us and leave our current pediatrician. The pediatrician who knows my son's rocky history with vaccines and lets us give him one vaccine at a time. Yippee. My child's health is in the hands of our state government. I'm pumped.

We were assigned to a family practitioner instead of a pediatrician because all the peds in our area have met their charity case quotas. Stupid economy.

I walked into the office, filled out the paperwork, and sat in the waiting room for not 15 minutes, not 30 minutes, not 45 minutes, but an hour and 10 minutes!! With a toddler. Not ideal. Especially since I had to keep my son in his stroller the entire time. He is like a pinball who thinks every room is his personal pinball machine and the more things he touches, the more points he gets, so in public, we have to keep him in his stroller or pay the ultimate price of exhaustion and embarrassment and watching him lick things like the arms of chairs and electrical outlets.

The mother sitting across from me had her 18-mo. old son sitting on her lap. Totally still. Just lookin' around, quiet, clinging to his mother. My son couldn't be more the opposite of that kid.

After an hour, I told the not-so-friendly lady at the front desk that I would have to reschedule. I couldn't wait any longer. My son had already eaten all the snacks I brought, drank all the milk in his sippy cup, played with all the toys in his diaper bag, and I had already sung every song in my repertoire. She told me I was next in line.

So, I waited another 10 minutes and finally went back to the exam room, where we waited another 30 minutes for the doctor (who was nice enough and let us come up with our own vaccination schedule. Whew). Then another 15 for the nurse to show up and give my son his shot.

In order to give him the shot, we had to catch him first. He was busy pinballing from one wall to the other. He started crying before he even got the shot because he was having to be still for two seconds, and as soon as it was over and he could run around again, he stopped crying. Who cares about the shot, Mom? Just let go so I can lick that door stop and dump out that jar of Q-tips!

My son's appt was at 8:30 am. When I got home, it was 11:30 am. And I live down the street from the doctor's office. Longest morning of my life.

Wednesday. Has it already been a month since my hopes and dreams of getting pregnant with our second child were dashed? Oh it has? Well, give me another one of those sticks to pee on! Can't wait! Okay, peeing, waiting the three minutes. Oh! Here are the results! I'm so excited!
Reading...

"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU THAT YOUR UTERUS IS A HAS-BEEN AND ENDOMETRIOSIS HAS TAKEN OVER YOUR BODY? NOT PREGNANT! DANG, LADY! YOU'RE PERSISTENT!"

Oh. Fine. You don't have to yell.

Later, watching cartoons with my son and nephew, I was crushed to discover that Blue's Clue's and Little Bill were both about having a baby. Really? Thanks Nick, Jr. Rub it in.

Thursday. My son figured out how to open the baby gate, climb up onto the dining room table and the table behind the couch, all in the same day. I found him standing on the table, swinging his hips to Blue's Clue's, while I was making his lunch. Why, God, why?

Friday. I told my husband about the dream I had the night before where we finally found our son's missing "M" magnet from his magnetic alphabet on the fridge. He said, "Man, we need to get you out of the house more." Then, he commented on all the dishes in the sink after two more straight 8-hr days of me watching our 1-yr old son and my 3-yr old nephew, so I had to whip out the smack down and hit him with the phone book. Or, maybe I just yelled a little and cried. Either way, what's the difference? I made my point.

I did enjoy wrapping presents this week and drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows AND whipped cream, and watching my son be in awe of the Christmas tree, and playing "hit-me-in-the-back-with-a-rubber-ball-and-I'll-pretend-to-be-surprised" with my nephew and son. And all those hours of Batman and talking about Mario and Luigi and Sonic (his three favorite video game heroes) with my nephew. The little things saved me from those big things. And isn't that how we all get through it sometimes? The little things carry us through.

Read Me! I'll Be Here All Week for Emma! I'm Not Leavin' Until You Read Me!

So, hey everybody!

I am going to leave this post up all week, so you won't hear anything new out of me until next Sunday. I think it is important that this stay up all week long so ALL of my fantabulous readers have a chance to not only find out about an extraordinary first grader named Emma, but how YOU, yes you, can help her.

Emma's mother, Jaime, has two blogs: Revenge of the Book Nerds and The Strength of a Mother and Her Daughter . The second blog is all about her daughter Emma.

Emma was a healthy, normal baby until she suffered an act of child abuse called Shaken Baby Syndrome. She has since suffered through brain surgery; intensive physical, occupational, and speech therapy; a feeding tube; having to wear a helmet, a leg brace, an arm brace, and loss of vision due to brain damage. You can read more here and here about Emma's past, as well as see pictures of this phenomenal cutie pie!

Present day, she is five years older, has cerebral palsy on her left side, is just starting to walk, and is cognitively and speech delayed. She no longer has to wear a helmet because of her last surgery!

Because Emma can't walk well, she needs a way to get exercise. This is where YOU ALL come in! Yay! This will be Emma's Christmas gift.

There is a company that makes bicycles for special needs children. The bikes are fitted to each individual child and then made specifically for that child. These bikes are not covered by insurance and are extremely expensive. It would be amazing for Emma to have her own bicycle so she can play with the other kids outside in the spring and feel like all the other children. Remember how much you loved your first bicycle?

So, here, on Jaime's site, through Paypal, YOU can donate some money for this extraordinary child to receive the best Christmas gift ever! I also have the donation widget at the top of my blog. The money goes directly into an account at Freedom Concepts (the company who makes the bikes).

The bike will cost around $3,700, so every dollar donated will help so much! Please give what you can. If the donations go over the amount for the bike, then the leftover money will go into a fund for other children to receive these special bikes!

I know that sometimes people don't donate because they can't afford to donate a large amount. I have been guilty of this myself. But, even a $1 donation will bring Emma one step closer to this bicycle!

Thank you for taking the time to read this post and Jaime's posts! I don't know Jaime or Emma personally, but I can imagine that this is so exciting for Jaime and I hope that we can all help her buy the best and most beneficial Christmas gift for Emma ever!!

Happy Holidays!!

Why am I still up?

So, it is so late. 10:20 pm. This is late for me. My eyes are stinging with sleepiness. I'm fighting it. I don't like going to bed after 10 pm. If I don't get enough sleep, then I'm a baaaaaad mommy. My tolerance for the incessant whining is waaaaaaay low.


So, this is why yesterday, I was a freaking mess.


I didn't get enough sleep the night before, so that was my first problem.


My second problem was that I got a good dose of what it will be like when we have another kid because I watched my 3-yr old nephew, along with my one-yr old son, two days in a row for eight hours each time. I had to balance their naptimes, feed them at relatively the same time, find games to entertain them both, and control the fighting and whining and fake crying, oh the fake crying, which happened quite frequently.


The house was in complete shambles because who has time to clean when you have two kids needing ALL of your attention at ALL times of the day? Seriously. I'm asking who?


I thought I could atleast pick up the toys during their naps, but my son woke up crying both days and I had to rock him back to sleep. The crying woke up my nephew both days as well, so there I was with no TV break. I mean, cleaning break.


To make matters worse, my son hit me in the face with a board book (he got a little too excited about "jamma jamma jamma jamma PJ!"), so then I had, and still have, a sore nose bridge and two bloody scratches. My husband said it looks like he beats me and I'm totally going to use that to my advantage.

Anyhoo, when my husband got home from work he said it looked like a bomb exploded in our house, so I sat down at the dining room table and cried. He was all, "What's wrong?"

So I said, in between heaves, "The house looks like crap (sniff) and a toy bomb went off in the den (deep breath) and the dishes are out of control and my nose hurts (sniff) and I can't get it all done (heave) and I didn't make anything for dinner and Meeko (our dog) is like having a third kid in the house and he put four scratches in the office door and I can't take it and I will threaten your life if you say anything about the mess on the kitchen counter! Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!"

Then, I had a mimosa and a chocolate milkshake and I felt allllll better.

I should really go to bed.

I think I just spent thirty minutes writing a post and said nothing of value.

So, hi! Hello! I'm still here! Anybody out there? Helloooo?!

I haven't written anything since last Wednesday! Eight days ago! Thanksgiving broke up my routine and I'm just gettin' back into the swing of this thing called "my life in the lap of luxury" or as I like to call it when I'm mad at my husband for not ever finishing the touch-up paint in our house (he hasn't picked up a paint brush in two years), "home crap home."

Okay! So, not much has happened this week. I was sick Sunday and Monday with a tummy ache and I was very gurgly. Ick. And...............................(drum roll please)..........................

that's it. I'm so boring. That's all I've got. I'm so embarassed. Although, I have won new awards lately and if I can ever get my act together and get my son to make his own lunch and put himself to bed and wipe the poo off his own bootie, then I will post and pass on.

Or maybe I could just stay up way past my bedtime and do it. Truly, I'm surprised I am even getting to write this post. I expected my husband to come in five minutes ago and pull me off the computer to take over the child-rearing. Every time I hear his footsteps, I start to panic.

I did want to pass on these pictures though. Our poor dog, Meeko, has been neglected since we became parents. He is just so loud and hyper and rambunctious! We have to keep him away from our toddling son because he knocks him over. Seriously, he has knocked Max over twice now and both times resulted in a bonked head and lots of tears.

(Oh no! My husband just asked me to get off the computer and help put our son to bed! Panic has set in!)

So, the other day, I wouldn't let Meeko go back to our bedroom where his bed is because I didn't want him to wake up our son, who was napping in the next room. Meeko's toenails sound like someone hammering nails on our wood floors, plus he barks and runs like a maniac up and down the hallway. I was doing laundry in the kitchen (because our washer and dryer are IN the kitchen...I don't know either) and I thought he could stay in there with me.

The only problem: my son ended up taking an unusually long nap. Three hours to be precise. And Meeko was getting tired because laying around all day torturing our little dog, Pia, and peeing in the hallway, can get exhausting. So, he improvised.

Yes, he is inside of the hamper. Even his back legs. And he slept there happily ever after. Maybe he is smarter than we think. Nah, I don't think so.

I'm easily entertained, okay?

So, since tomorrow is Thanksgiving and all, I am sharing some of the things I am thankful for this time of year. Ho, ho, ho, here we go.

1. For the greatest opportunity I ever could have been given. The opportunity to be Max's mommy.




2. The movie Planes, Trains and Automobiles. It is set during Thanksgiving and I laugh (and cry) every time I see it...which used to be a lot because I own it. On VHS. But I don't own a VCR anymore. Maybe it will come on tv?





2. Dental flossers because I like to get cozy this time of year and eat popcorn and drink hot chocolate and there is nothing that will ruin my holiday spirit more than popcorn kernels in my teeth. Well, almost nothing.

3. Cousin Eddie from the National Lampoon's Vacation movies. He is one of my favorite movie characters of all time and I start watching National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation around this time every year. On DVD. Thanks goodness I've updated this one from VHS.

4. Family members who are sensitive to my gluten-free needs and go out of their way to make holiday eatin' just as special for me as it used to be. I was worried when I found out I had celiac disease that the holiday grub would be disappointing since I could no longer have our traditional dressing and pie crusts, but my family, even my in-laws, have tried to come up with new recipes to include me in the food festivities. Thank you!

5. Reddi-Whip. Need I say more?

6. And last, I am thankful for all the crap I have been through this past year. Sure, it was crap. It is still crap. However, despite all the crap, I feel lucky. Why? Because I am stronger. I am humbler. I am more gracious. I am seasoned. I have expanded. I am less judgmental. I am more forgiving. I am appreciative. I am healing. I have faced some of my deepest fears...unemployment, being uninsured, miscarriage, uncertainty, isolation, debt...and I have come out the other side, no more sure of tomorrow than before, but certainly more equipped to handle whatever it is.

So, here's to giving thanks, spreading holiday cheer, and to a peaceful holiday season! May we all get everything we want because frankly, no matter how grateful I am for the crap, I am tired of learning life lessons! I'm droppin' out of school!

Happy Thanksgiving! Peace out!

Are You There God? It's Me, Amy.

So, I know I said I wasn't going to think about any of my problems this weekend and blah, blah, blah, but really? I am a control freak and hate not having control over any of my current circumstances. I'm not too great at "going on faith" or "letting go and letting God." I hang on for dear life until my knuckles are white and bleeding.

So, last night, I decided to pray for guidance to come to me in my dreams, for God and the angels to guide me on whether or not to have my second endometriosis surgery or wait a few more months and keep trying to get pregnant...guidance for ideas on how I can be a work at home mommy and ease the financial burden on my husband...how to find affordable heath insurance...guidance on how to be peaceful and resilient...how to finally discover my life purpose.

And when I awoke this morning, ready to bask in my new knowledge, ready to interpret God's message from the night before, I lay in bed and thought about my dream.

And realized I don' t think God heard me right.

Because last night I dreamed I was having sex with a Chinese man because I was a polygamist and he was one of my three husbands.

That was the whole dream. That's it.

Unless my purpose is to hook it in the personals on Craig's List or move to Utah and marry into one of those Big Love-type families, then...

I definitely don't think God heard me right.

I'm not saying nothin' about nothin'

So, I had a great post all ready for this past Wednesday. I was going to try to write something every other day this week. Frankly, I don't know how you guys who write everyday do it. My house looks like the Tazmanian Devil spun through every room as it is. I should never be blogging. But, I am addicted, so there goes the house.

Anyway, I had a great post all ready for Wednesday about how certain types of people seem to be supernaturally fertile and how the Fertility Gods like to just throw babies at these people. It was complete with pictures of the Duggars and Cousin Eddie from the National Lampoon's Vacation movies and everything. But, my husband thought it was in poor taste and could be construed as offensive, and seeing how I am crazed and delirious from menstrual hormones and disappointed, once again, by something I peed on, I thought perhaps he might be right.

So, instead, I will talk about this. Health insurance. Now, isn't this more interesting?

No, it's not, but it is politically correct.

Health insurance. What a racket.

Okay, that's it.

I promised myself I wasn't going to think about any of my problems today or tomorrow or Sunday. No thinking time given to money woes, or medical bills woes, or we're-getting-screwed-out-of-our-life-savings-in-order-to-afford-health-insurance woes, or endometriosis and baby-makin' woes. It's a no woe weekend. Starting............................................................NOW!

Let's talk about Star Wars again. Goody, goody, gumdrops!

So, my 3-yr old nephew came over again yesterday and the first thing he said was, "I wanna watch Star Wars." I was so proud.

Until the only part he wanted to watch was the scene he calls the "dirty trash water part", where Luke, Han and Leia are trapped in a giant trash compactor. He wanted to see it over and over and over again. I even tried to distract him with the Ewoks in Return of the Jedi (what kid doesn't love Ewoks?), but he wasn't impressed. "Where is the dirty trash water part? I want to see the dirty trash water part!" Damn dirty trash water.

Then, at lunchtime, my son threw up the chicken nugget he was eating along with everything he had for breakfast because he was throwing a tantrum in his highchair. He wanted the apples and peanut butter my nephew was eating, even though my son doesn't like peanut butter and he is much too young for apples. I eventually had to separate them and feed my son in the kitchen and my nephew in the living room so I could get my son to eat something.

I spent their naptimes on the phone with health insurance companies (oh crap, there I go again) and by the time my husband came home from work, the house looked like I had that dang Tazmanian Devil over for coffee again. Stupid Tazmanian Devil.

Help Me Obi-Wan Kenobi! You're My Only Hope!

So, last week during my coccyx debacle, I agreed to babysit my 3-yr old nephew for an entire day. Thursday. From about 8:30 am until 8:30 pm, with a 2 1/2 hr break somewhere in between.

I love my nephew, MP, and my one-yr old son thinks MP is the coolest dude he has ever seen...the absolute greatest thing since Blue's Clues. My son followed MP around everywhere he went, constantly touching him, petting his hair, touching his face, poking his eyes, patting his back. He wanted to play with every toy my nephew was playing with and anything that came out of my nephew's mouth was golden and hilarious to my son.

Soon into the day, I found out my nephew had never seen Star Wars. Which is basically blasphemy in this house. Star Wars is one of the basic commonalities that my husband and I based our relationship on in the beginning. Star Wars and To Kill A Mockingbird. And The Carpenters. And co-dependency. And booze. Anyway, getting off subject here....

So, I slipped in the DVD and off we went...to the Death Star. And eighteen gazillion million ba-billion questions later, we turned it off.

MP: "Is that a bad dude?"

Me: "Yes, his name is Darth Vader."

MP: "Are those bad dudes?"

Me: "Yes, they are storm troopers."

MP: "What are they doing?"

Me: "Shooting their laser guns."

MP: "Lasers...hmmmm...have you ever seen a movie called, "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs?"

Me: "No, I haven't."

MP: "Oh. What are those?"

Me: "Those are robots. That is C3PO and that is R2D2."

MP: "What are robots?"

Me: "They are like people because they can walk and talk, but they are machines made out of metal."

MP: "Metal....hmmmm...have you ever seen a movie called, "Mario Kart and Rainbows?"

Me: "Mmmmm...no I haven't."

MP: "Oh. Who are those people?"

Me: "They are Luke Skywalker's aunt and uncle."

MP: "Are they Star Wars people?"

Me: "Yes."

MP: "Are they in Star Wars?"

Me: "Yes, we are still watching Star Wars, so they are in Star Wars."

MP: "Oh. Can they move?"

Me: "Yes, they are people just like you and me, so they can move."

MP: "Have you ever seen a movie called, "Mario and Luigi?"

Me: "No, I haven't."

MP: "Have you ever seen a movie called, "Star Wars and Car Wars?"

Me: "No, I haven't."

MP: "Oh. Who is that lady?"

Me: "That is Princess Leia. Isn't she pretty?"

MP: "Where is the other lady?"

Me: "What other lady? There is no other lady."

MP: "Yes there is."

Me: "No there isn't."

MP: "Yes there is."

Me: "No, there isn't."

MP: "Oh. Have you ever seen a movie called, "Get up from your nap and take off your pull-up and put on your underwear and pants and go into the kitchen and eat somethin'?"

Me: "No, I haven't. And I think you made that up."

MP: uncontrollable laughter

Needless to say, he lost interest in Star Wars after about three seconds. But, I am happy to report that I was the first to introduce it to him. Not that he will remember, but I will. And that's enough.

Bruised and janked.

find the humor...find the humor...find the humor...

Okay. I'm good. Had to remind myself to find the humor.

This week has been I-bruised-my-tailbone-and-found-out-I-wasn't-pregnant-again difficult. Because that is exactly what happened.

My husband was out of town for three days this week. A couple of hours after he left town on Monday, I went to look for those second-hand shoes I told you he wanted me to buy for our son. So, basically this is all his fault (I can always find a way....).

I was in the way-overcrowded and too-stuffed used clothing store for about two minutes before I bent down and accidentally rammed the corner of a hard plastic bin into my butt crack, brutally bruising my tailbone. Ouchie.

So, I've been an invalid most of the week, unable to sit down, lay down, bend down, pick up my son, or do anything but stand around and stare at people and things. My poor son wasn't able to understand why I couldn't pick him up or play with him and showed me his general unhappiness by throwing himself on the ground, usually hitting his head on the way down, and crying, to which I could only respond my patting him on the head...if I could reach that far down.

I was lucky to have my fabulous Aunt B and my mom come over to help in the late afternoons for bathtime and dinner time. And when I became brave enough to try to sit, I sat on one of my son's stuffed donut-shaped toys. He has several big, stuffed rings and they all have a different animal's head attached. So, whenever I was sitting on the couch or at the dinner table, I had a stuffed elephant head coming out from between my legs. Awkward.

By Thursday, I was feeling better, able to pick my son up again, although still not able to sit or lay on my back. And, it is about the same today. Yay! I'm improving!

However, last night I took a pregnancy test, hoping this would be the month! After three minutes, I went to the bathroom and looked at the test. It said, "YOU ARE NOT PREGNANT AGAIN, YOUR REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEM IS JANKED AND WHY DO YOU KEEP TORTURING YOURSELF?!!!"

Okay, well, maybe it just said, "Not Pregnant", but I swear that is what I heard. And yes, it talked to me.

All I want for Christmas is to get pregnant without having to have endometriosis surgery again!! Is that too much to ask? It took us thirteen months of trying and a painful surgery before I was able to get pregnant with my first. What did I do in my former life to have such problems getting pregnant? Did I take Jonathan Swift's, A Modest Proposal, a little too literally and eat my kids for dinner? Was I the lying woman in the Bible who told King Solomon to cut her baby in half? What did I do, for Pete's sake (as my mother would say)?!

Anyway, on with the show. I really need to get going on shredding some rotisserie chicken for dinner and washing my mildewed shower curtain. But, who wants to do those things? Okay, okay, I'm going. Sheesh.

TV Turmoil

So, yesterday was supposed to be "family day."

By the end of it, this is how we all felt:


Crazed and exhausted and ready to commit homicide.

Now that my husband has started his new job, he works long hours during the week and when he gets home, he does more work on the computer until around 10 pm. So, the weekend is the only time we have to hang.

We decided Sunday would be our day. We were going to take our son to the park, buy our son his first pair of walking-around shoes, spend the gift certificates that my husband got for his birthday and buy him some new work shirts. Yay!

Not so "yay." We never made it to the park, the shoe department in Sears was chaos and my husband decided AFTER WE WERE ALREADY THERE that he would rather us buy our son some second-hand shoes because he will grow out of them soon. The only thing we managed to do was buy my husband some shirts and fight and get on each other's nerves the ENTIRE day.

It was an icky, icky day.

So, I thought, "Hey, I'm gonna wind down, lay in bed and embrace the ole' boob tube to relax and shake off this day."

Now, we all know that Sunday nights are crap nights for late-night tv. My fave, David Letterman, isn't on. None of the talk shows are on. Sunday nights are for infomercials and B-movies. Sometimes, I will watch the Silent Movie Sunday Nights on the classic movie channel. But last night, I thought I would peruse my options.

Let me tell you, if I wasn't already depressed when I got in bed, I definitely was after I turned on the TV. Holy Mackerel! Everything I turned to was either sad or violent or trashy.

Here is a rundown of just some of the scenes I encountered:

BET: a Feed the Children infomercial. This made me cry immediately, seeing the emaciated children crying with flies on their faces. So, I turned.

The History Channel: an animation of someone stabbing someone else and blood pouring out. Click.

ABC Family: someone crying. Click.

Spike: some Law and Orderish show about a rape. Click.

MSNBC: a show about sexual predators. Click.

FOX: someone talking about an abortion procedure. Click

TruTV: a story about a murder. Click.

HLN: Toxic Bachleor Alerts on Showbiz Tonight. I don't need a "news" show to tell me that Bobby Brown and Jon Gosselin are toxic bachelors. Some ladies might, which is depressing in itself. Click.

Nick at Nite: The Nanny with Fran Drescher. Now, tell me that show doesn't depress you?

TVland: Finally, an old episode of Roseanne! Oh crap. It is one of the last ones before the show was cancelled. You know, the ones after they won the lottery and when Dan and Roseanne were separated. Nobody liked those episodes. Click.

The Disney Channel: Billy Ray Cyrus trying to act. Depressing. Click.

Vh1: Tool Academy. I'm depressed that a show like this exists.

The Weather Channel: hurrican coverage

CNBC: a story on greed in the medical community. Again, I don't need a tv show to tell me I am being robbed. The fact that we can't afford health insurance is a good enough indication.

TNT: the scene in the movie King Kong when he gets shot down off the building and plunges to his death. Seriously. I turned to this channel right when he was being murdered. Depressing. Click.

QVC: Christmas fun that I can't afford. Click.

Seriously, if it wasn't for me finding The Andy Griffith Show on CBS, I might have jumped out our bedroom window and gone running into traffic, all the way devouring a snack-size Snickers in one hand and a carton of ice cream in the other.

Even on The Andy Griffith Show, Andy and Helen were sitting in the patrol car having an argument. It seemed to be everywhere around me. So, what did I do?

I marched straight into the office and started my own fight with my husband. So there, TV. I can create drama too.

It's an Iced Pancake!

So, yesterday was my husband's 38th birthday. All day I kept thinking he was going to be 58 instead and it seemed perfectly believable that he was going to be 20 years older than he actually is...not because he looks 20 years older, but because I feel about 20 years older, so why wouldn't I be married to someone in their fifties? Seems totally acceptable.

Since we don't have much money these days, I really struggled about what to get him. He said he didn't want anything, but come on, everybody needs a little somethin' to open on their birthday! At least I think so. And he said he didn't want to do anything for his birthday because he didn't have enough time. He just wanted to stay home with our son and me and work on the computer.

Boooooooooring!

So, I decided to at least make him a hot breakfast, a special dinner, and bake him a cake.

I bought him Joel Osteen's new audio book, "It's Your Time," to listen to in the car while he is traveling. Even though we have concerns about organized religion and don't attend a church, my husband and I both like Joel Osteen's message of positivity. I have a problem with his view on homosexuality (he thinks it "isn't God's best" when I think it is a gift), but all in all, he is a positive preacher and I like that. No gloom and doom. No guilt and fearing God. I don't believe God should be feared.

Anyway, when did this turn into my views on God? Let's move on.

Then, came the cake. As soon as my son went down for his nap, out came the gluten-free cake mix. I was ready, I was excited, I was willing, I was...wait. Where are my cake pans? Oh, that's right. I don't own any cake pans.

Crap.

I needed to borrow one. All of my neighbors were at work (there are no stay-at-home moms living around me, which makes me sad...I want someone to have tea and coffee with...someone who has kids who can play with my son while we gossip about Patrick Dempsey's hotness and Jon and Kate and vent about our husbands and kids...anyway) except for the sweet retired couple who live next door.

I grabbed my son (who wasn't asleep just yet) and we headed next door. My neighbor graciously let us in, but all she had was a 10x10 cake pan and the recipe called for an 8x8 cake pan. Oh well.

So, my husband ended up with a cake pancake. I had to use a freakin' toothpick to ice the sides. And it was a little dry because I had to guess when to take it out of the oven, so we just loaded the top with ice cream. Ice cream solves everything.

I cooked him Spaghetti Carbonara with roasted plum tomatoes on the side for dinner, neither of which I had ever made...but they turned out yummy! I made a pound of it, thinking we would have some left over, but my husband ate almost all of it, which made me feel creamy and gooey and glad inside.

Patrick Dempsey! Don't Leave Me!

So, I have never felt so relaxed, so confident, so sure of myself. I love my life. Everyday is romance and smiles and big, deep-bellied laughter.

Patrick Dempsey is in love with me, you know. You know, Patrick Dempsey from "Grey's Anatomy" and "Can't Buy Me Love?" He is obsessed with me, actually.

We met at the video store/steak house where he is a manager on his days off from filming. I walked into the backroom and it was love at first sight. He smiled that Doctor McDreamy smile and we melted into each other. Our romance moved quickly and we became inseparable.

One afternoon, he surprised me and said he wanted me to meet one of his co-workers. His "co-worker" turned out to be his father who he wanted to be there when Patrick asked me to marry him! He had even thought to invite my sister! What a sweetheart!

So, yes, we are engaged now. Such a whirlwind romance! Steak houses, flowers, professions of unending, everlasting love. Who could ask for more? We have no kids, no responsibilities. Just the two of us, looking into each other's eyes for eternity.

Oh, look! There is my ex-boyfriend with his child bride!

Helllooo! Yeah, how are you doing? Good? Oh, great. Well, in case you didn't know, I am engaged to Patrick Dempsey. You know, Patrick Dempsey from "Grey's Anatomy".

(what is that scratching sound?)

It is so nice to meet your teenage bride. Isn't it almost her bedtime? Well, I must run if I am going to meet my fiance at the steak house! You know, Patrick Dempsey from "Grey's Anatomy"? So long!

(why is there a baby crying? where is that sound coming from?)

Oh, Patrick! Patrick! I have arrived at the steak house! Oh, you are more in love with me than yesterday? Oh, stop...you are embarassing me! Yes, I love you too.

(scratching...scratching)

Patrick? Where are you going?

(baby crying...)

Wait! Patrick! Don't go! Let me run my fingers through your thick, luxurious hair!

(scratch, more crying)

Please! Don't leave me!!!!!! Wait!!


Crap.

I'm awake.

The dog is scratching on the door and I can hear our son crying over the monitor. You mean, it wasn't real? It was all a dream? I'm not really engaged to Patrick Dempsey? You mean, I have to get up and feed other people and change diapers and wash dirty dog feet and worry about finances? No more whirlwind romance? No more endless amounts of free time? No more rich fiance? I don't think I can face it.

So, what do I do?

"Honey, can you get up with the baby? I didn't get much sleep last night? Do you mind? Oh, thank you baby."

Ah, back to dream land. Not ready to face reality just yet.

May the Force Be With You...

Daddy's scary face...

Oh, golly...okay, you can take my picture...shucks

Our sad attempt at a mean pumpkin face.

Master Yoda.

((oh, please, I beg of you, somebody take these stupid ears off my head...)

He looks bored to tears, but really he was having fun. I promise. He's holding Reese's peanut butter cups in his hands. How can you not have fun holding chocolate and peanut butter?

Nanny Dee! Chef Eureka! Mommy Chef! Calling all Mommies! I've got an eating challenge on my hands and it's called a Toddler!

I can't believe it! I won another award! Yippee! I received the Lemonade Stand award from Kathy at Strawberry Seeds! Thank you, Kathy! This award is for people who show attitude and gratitude in their blogs and I wish I could give it right back to Kathy. She shows amazing attitude and gratitude on her blog, despite a life full of curve balls. I am inspired by her and what she has to say. Please check her out and learn about her life of gratitude in the face of great adversity.

And now I have three awards to give out. I haven't had a chance to decide with this one, so I will wait and give them all out at the same time.

Until then, I said in my last post that I needed all you mommies and dads out there to help me. I'm not afraid to ask for it, so please help, help me Rhonda! Or Chef Eureka! Or Mommy Chef! Or Nanny Dee! Or anybody who has ever successfully fed their toddler.

My son is eating challenged. He is 14 months old and still won't eat much besides baby food. From a jar.

He has always had trouble in the pie hole department. Between the ages of 6- 10 months, anytime we introduced a food with a new texture to him, he choked and threw it up. I can't even count anymore how many times I cleaned up projectile vomit in those months. He threw up Rice mum-mums, puffs, stage 3 baby foods, anything with texture. Finally, we stopped trying to give him anything beyond stage 1 and 2 jarred baby food. Around 10 or 11 months, we were able to move on to stage 3 baby foods, puffs, and yogurt melts.

At 10 months, he stopped throwing things up and started spitting them out instead. At 14 months, we are still in this "spitting out" phase and I am at my wit's end trying to get him to eat anything besides smooshy, mushy, tasteless baby food. From a jar. And I have run out of ideas.

So, my cry to you is this: what did you feed your toddlers?

The problem with me is I am not much of a cook and I have strange eating patterns and eat differently than most. I eat breakfast and dinner, but lunch is just a continual grazing throughout the day. And we never eat fast food and rarely eat in restaurants. Plus, I can't eat gluten. So, I eat non-toddler type foods, like raw carrots and hummus. I don't eat sandwiches. I didn't have bread or eggs in the house until a friend suggested that I try giving him pieces of a grilled cheese sandwich or scrambled eggs. I never thought of a grilled cheese sandwich or scrambled eggs. That is how far gone I am.

So, any suggestions would be appreciated, no matter how simple they are because honestly, I probably haven't thought of them. But first, let me tell you what he will and won't eat to save you some time.

He WILL eat: crackers, cookies (duh), yogurt (his fave food), applesauce, grilled cheese sandwiches, toast, bananas, oatmeal, Veggie Booty rice puffs, mashed potatoes with gravy, American cheese, and that damned baby food. From a jar. He will even eat the veggie baby foods, as long as they are bland baby food. From a jar.

Things I have tried that he has SPIT out onto the floor like he was just forced to eat DOG TURDS: mac and cheese (he won't eat any pasta, actually), peanut butter, pb and honey sandwiches, beenie weenies, any steamed veggie (including carrots), mandarin oranges, scrambled eggs, lasagna, ravioli, ground turkey, ground beef, peas, baked beans, rice, kiwi, blackberries, peaches, and I'm sure there is more than I'm not remembering.

So, I will not be insulted if you suggest even the most basic item. Like I said, I didn't even think of grilled cheese sandwiches and scrambled eggs until a friend suggested them.

Thanks guys! I'm hoping to never, ever have to buy baby food for this little toddler AGAIN!!

Random Thoughts Wednesday, which was supposed to be Tuesday, but I had a toddler who barely napped, so what're you gonna do?

So, hey all!

Yes, this is my Random Thoughts Tuesday on Wednesday. During my son's almost non-existent nap yesterday, I could have either blogged or showered or mopped or eaten. Since Saturday was the last day I had gotten to shower, the shower won out. In and out, toddler woke up, no drying hair, so hair looked like Gilda Radner's in a Roseanne Roseannadanna skit. But, I will cherish those 45 minutes I had to myself.

So, my first bit of randomness is we tried the pumpkin patch thing again on Sunday with the same result. Screaming toddler. Frazzled parents. Lots of stares from other pumpkin patch pickers.

My husband and I even had a military-like plan this time: at arrival, jump out of car like life depended on it, yank stroller out of car and put toddler in immediately, leave toddler in stroller at all times, dodge other patrons and walk quickly to scarecrows and haystacks where we take pictures with lightening speed, grab a pumpkin and get the hell out.

Everything seemed to be going fine...our son was a little fussy but not bad...until my husband began to stray from the mission. He strayed from the plan. He decided to take our son out of the stroller for his picture with him. "No, No!" I screamed. "It's a mistake! Please, God, Noooooooo!!!"

But, he didn't listen.

The minute our son came out of that stroller, he was never going back in again. He screamed and wiggled to get down, he started crying. Why, hubby? Why?

Look how pissed our son is...

This is me with our son BEFORE he was removed from the stroller. Don't I look tired already?

Anyway, after my hubby's picture with him, I took our son to the car. My husband grabbed a big pumpkin and a baby pumpkin and paid for them...and then left the baby pumpkin on the counter. So, we got home with only one, lone pumpkin. Was it worth it? Nah, I don't think so.

So, second, I would like to say thanks for two awards I received recently!

I received the Over The Top award from ModernMom at How To Survive Life in the Suburbs!

Thank you sooooo much, ModernMom! This is a fun one.

I received this award a while back and have already filled out the meme that goes along with it, but my answers might be different on this day (as a matter of fact, my answers would probably be different any day of the week), so I'll do it again!

Rules:

1. You Can Only Use One Word!
2. Pass this along to 5 of your favorite bloggers!

3. Alert them that you have given them this award!

4. Have Fun!

I may cheat a little and use more than one word, but I'll try to stick to the rules...

1. Where is your cell phone? desk

2. Your hair? blondish

3. Your Mother? brave

4. Your Brother? non-existent

5. Your Favorite Food? gluten-free pizza (see, I said "hummus" last time)

6. Your Dream Last Night? forgettable

7. Your Favorite Drink? hot tea

8. Your dream/goal? stability

9. What room are you in? office/junk room

10. Your hobby? reading

11. Your fear? infertility

12. Where do you want to be in 6 years? stress-free

13. Where were you last night? Home

14. Something that you aren’t? risky

15. Muffins? gluten-free

16. Wish list item? Oh my goodness, there is no way I can only use one word on this one. Uggs, new bathrooms, new robe, new pajamas, new slippers, pedicure, someone to paint my house, new closets, new boots, no endometriosis, no celiac disease, new cell phone, financial stability, a cozy bedroom design, etc, etc, etc. Really, I could fill this whole page.

17. Where did you grow up? Arkansas

18. Last thing you did? ate

19. What are you wearing? yoga-outfit

20. Your TV? off

21. Your pets? outside

22. Friends? important

23. Your life? challenging

24. Your mood? hopeful

25. Missing someone? sister

26. Vehicle? Hyundai

27. Something you’re not wearing? bra!!

28. Your favorite store? Barnes and Noble

29. Your favorite color? yellow

30. When was the last time you laughed? yesterday?

31. Last time you cried? Sunday

32. Your best friend? soulmate

33. One place that I go to over and over? Ozark Natural Foods

34. One person who emails me regularly? Oprah (I get her newsletter...I don't get emails from her personally...yet)

35. Favorite place to eat? Mom's

Speaking of Mom's, my Mom gave me the next award. She is Janie B. over at Life Not Wasted or Lost. Isnt' she sweet? Thanks, Mom!

With this award, I am supposed to tell you 7 things you may not know about me, so here goes!

1. As a kid, I had a dog named Frodo that my parents named after the character, Frodo, from The Hobbit.

2. I had a nose ring for about six months until my husband (at the time, he was my ex-boyfriend - long story) accidentally hit me in the nose with his elbow and ripped the hole just enough to where it became infected. I had to take it out at the George Strait concert I went to the following night.

3. I knew I would marry my husband after our first date and said so in my journal. It only took me five years to convince him, too!

4. I've had a poem published in the GSU Review. The poem was called The Pinwheel Kid.

5. I strongly believe in gay marriage rights and adoption rights. Children raised by homosexual couples are the most open-minded, non-judgmental, well-rounded children, who will grow up to be adults who are open-minded and non-judgmental. Now, don't you think we need more people in the world like that?

6. I have kept a journal for 23 years now.

7. The number 8 is my favorite number. I remember watching tv in my bedroom, wearing headphones because I was grounded from tv and I didn't want to get caught. The date was 08/08/88. I didn't get caught (until now, sorry Mom). Good number.

And third, this wasn't really random thoughts at all, was it? Maybe I should have called this post Random Items or Random Memos. Or Pumpkins and Awards. But, that's booooriiiing. Ah, well.

My son has awakened from his nap, so I've gotta skidaddle. I will pass these awards on in my next post, along with a desperate plea for help from all you genius mommies out there. Yes, I know, you are thinking, "She needs more help?" Yes, I need more help.

Today is what I like to call a "Fiasco"

Fiasco city in the house today.

Our poor pumpkin pickout day was disastrous.

It started with my son going swimming in our toilet.

My husband was apparently letting him roam around unsupervised for a moment this morning while I was at work. And it only takes a moment.

My hubs called me and said when he found our son, he was almost shoulder deep in the toilet, splashing around like our bathroom was a water park.

So, I said, "Make sure you give him a bath."

And he said, "Oh, it's cool. I rinsed him off."

What? You what? So, I said, "No, we poop in that toilet. Therefore, he needs a bath. With soap."

He reluctantly agreed. My husband is one of the those people (or he could be the only one) who believe that "rinsing it off" with water is the same as using soap. Does water have antibacterial properties that I'm not aware of? No? I didn't think so.

After work, we were going to take our son to get a pumpkin. We took him last year to this same pumpkin patch, we took pictures, and wanted to start a tradition. We had a small window of opportunity before his nap. Did we make it? What do you think? Of course not. There was a football game on TV that had to be watched first.

So, by the time we headed out, it was past my son's naptime and he was fussy. A prime example of this fussiness is when we got in the car, he started hitting himself over the head with a pair of maracas. Hard, plastic maracas. Naturally, this hurt so he started to cry. And then he did it again. On purpose.

As we pulled into the parking lot of the pumpkin patch (it's not really a pumpkin patch - it is a bunch of pumpkins on the front lawn of a church - but it is decorated and is actually a pretty cute little faux-patch), he was screaming in the backseat from his self-inflicted maraca beating. Not a good start.

I carried our little fuss-budget over to the pumpkins where he wiggled and jiggled to get down and walk. The problem is that when I put him down, he started darted down the rows of pumpkins like Elmo or DJ Lance Rock was at the other end. It was dangerous! I was afraid he would fall and hit his head on the corners of the pumpkin risers or get stabbed with a pumpkin stem. I mean, he is only 14 months old. The poor boy falls down 89 times a day when he is just walking. Running at his top speed is not recommended. Plus, the patch was packed with all kinds of pumpkin pickers. It was a really busy place!

But, alas, everytime I picked him up, he screamed at the top of his lungs to get back down. People were staring. My husband was getting visibly agitated. I was trying to laugh it off.

After several minutes of fighting, kicking and screaming, my husband said. "Let's just go."

So, I said, "But we are taking pictures and I took a shower today."

So, he said, "We can come back another time."

And I said, "But, I may not get to take a shower on that day and my hair looks good for once."

He said, "We've gotta go."

And I said, "But I'm wearing like my only cute autumn outfit."

But, alas, my child's screaming took over. I picked him up and carried him horizontally, like I might carry a two by four, him thrashing around like a possessed Chucky doll, and we returned to the car.

Pumpkinless. Pictureless.

So, one of my greatest fears is that I will raise a child who throws temper tantrums when he doesn't get his way. And I know it will be my fault because it is always the parent's fault, but I don't know what I would have done to make him that way. Lately, my son has been whining a lot and throwing tantrums.

So, my question to you all is this: Is this just a characteristic of toddlers, or am I inadvertently turning my child into a Nancy (you know, that little snot on Little House on the Prairie? She was such a b*tch!)?

Thursday Afternoon (Evening) Tea

Hey everybody! Let's have some tea.

First, I want to say thank you to everyone who gave me such wonderful words of encouragement after my last post. And thank you for sharing your stories. Technically, I know I am not alone. But emotionally, it feels like it. So, I appreciate hearing your specific stories - it reminds me that we are all in this crazy world together and none of us are ever alone.

Actually, just writing the post gave me a HUGE release. Just getting it out there in the Universe...spewing out my guts...made a big difference in how I am feeling today.

Thank you for listening to me.

Now, for some tea. Yum, yum, I love hot tea! One sugar or two? Honey?

Thursday Afternoon Tea was started by Richele at Under the Golden Apple Tree and I wanted to join in on the fun (it is actually nighttime, but we can have tea at night too, can't we?).

So, let's get to know one another. These are the questions to answer:

1) What color is your toothbrush? Gray and white!

2) Name one person who made you smile today. My son, Max. We were playing hide and seek under the coffee table.

3) What is your favorite candy bar? Do I have to have just one? I can't. I love Peanut M&M's, Reeses Peanut Butter cups, tootsie rolls, Hershey's kisses, Whatchamacallit (sp?), Snickers, and so many more. Now I'm craving chocolate! Great!

4) What is the last thing you said aloud? "Settle him down and we can talk about it afterwards."

(talking to my husband about putting my sleepy and grouchy son to bed - my husband was trying to tell me something while our son was crying in his lap because he was so sleepy)

5) What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Anything where the majority of the ingredients is chocolate. Rocky Road is delicious!

6) Ever go camping? Two or three times. I'm not particularly a fan.

7) Are you a cat person or a dog person? I like both, although we only have 2 dogs. Our dog, Meeko, isn't a cat dog.

8) What was the last thing you ate? Veggie Booty.

9) How long have you been blogging? Since February of this year, I think. It feels like I've been doing it forever, but it has only been nine months or so.

10) What or who is your inspiration for your blog? I started this blog to stay sane. I love to write, I love to be creative, and I needed this release to recapture some of my pre-marriage and mommy self. I NEED this. And I need all of you.

Thanks for reading! Talk to you all real soon!

A dark place...scary

Before we enter this dark place, I will shed a little light on the day...I received two more awards today! Yippee Skippee! I received the One Lovely Blog Award from Mud Mama ! Thank you so much! I really appreciate receiving this award!

And I received the Best Blog Award from Christine at Christine's Corner! Thank you, Christine, for this award!

Now, we enter a dark, dark place. A place full of depressed visions, sickening voices, dread, sorrow, skeletons shaking in the closet, anxiety, and suffocation. Where is this place of gloom and doom? Why do we have to go there? Well, because I can't get away from it and if I have to go there everyday, then I'm taking you with me. Where?

My head.

Yes, folks I am living in a dark, dark place. I'm not sure exactly what people are talking about when they discuss the "dark night of the soul", but I think I am there. And it is lasting much longer than "a" night.

Those of you who have been reading my blog know what a tough summer I have had. Really, what a tough year I have had. It has been the worst year of my life, and this includes the year my parents got divorced, my sister almost died from pneumonia and my great-grandmother died on New Years Eve (this all happened in 1997).

I can't find the words to begin what I am feeling....hmmm...well, let me just start from the beginning. And by the way, I'm not afraid of sharing anything, nor am I ashamed. I've never been one to hide my feelings. Here we go, internet! This could be a long one, folks.

My father worked for the Department of Human Services for something like 30 years. By the time he retired, he was the head of our county's DHS. My sister and I would play in the DHS building as kids, running down the hallways, in and out of the offices, playing in the "big room" up front with all the chairs. We always entered in the back (the employee's entrance). Never once had I ever been in the front entrance. Until last Friday.

Last Friday, I had to stand in the English-speaking line, waiting for my turn to turn in forms, forms asking for state assistance for health insurance for our son. Never as a child, did I ever think that 30 years later, I would be standing in that "big room" up front with all the chairs (now I know what the room is for), not to play and have fun, but to ask for government assistance because my son's health depends on it and we can't afford health insurance.

It was a very humbling experience, not that I think I needed to be humbled anymore, but I am now even more humble than I was before. I think it has moved from humble to low self-esteem and depression. How did I get here? I'm 35 years old. How did I get here?

After my unexpected c-section last year, long recovery, and breastfeeding disasters, I suffered from post-partum depression for about 6 months. Just when the light was beginning to break through from that, we began having money problems, broken air conditioners (plural), I needed new tires, 2 of my husband's family members died, I found out I have celiac disease, my husband lost his job on the day of his uncle's wake, we went through 2 months of unemployment stress, I had a miscarriage, we discovered we can't afford health insurance for all three of us, and now we are back to money problems. Oh, and we also have to "skip" Christmas this year, which is more depressing than all of it. Luckily, we bought presents for our son back in July, so he is covered for Christmas presents. But, for the rest of my family and for each other, well, we can't do it this year.

My husband found a job in September making much less money than he was making before (and before we were barely makin' it as it was), but we are grateful he has found a job at least! This is really just scratching the surface of everything that has happened to us this year, but those are the biggest challenges.

My dark place is this: when does it end? When does it get any easier? When does God or the Universe or whoever is out there listening say enough is enough? I am at my breaking point. I've had it. I can't take any more stress, any more bad news, I don't need to be humbled any more than I already have been. I'm tired of crying. I want to laugh again.

My husband and I can't afford clothes for ourselves so we can't present ourselves to the world the way we want to be presented. I am angry all the time. The slightest thing will set me off (our poor dogs have beared the brunt of this, I'm afraid). I am more cynical and judgmental now of others. I'm pissed that I can no longer eat many convenience foods because of the gluten, I'm pissed that coffee makes me sick because I loooooove coffee. I'm pissed that I can't afford to fix up my house. I hate my bathrooms - they are the ugliest places on earth. I'm pissed that i can't afford anything besides food. My cell phone got shut off yesterday because we couldn't afford the bill (it is now turned back on - hallelujah - how would the DHS people get a hold of me?). I'm pissed. The TV shows I used to watch in the spring...well, when they started back up in the fall, I found them to be silly and not as funny as they used to be. I've been through too much in the last few months to appreciate the unrealistic nature of television comedies.

The two worst parts of it all are that 1) there is a piece of motherhood that is missing for me. I have had so many other things to worry about since my son was born that I have a disconnect from this experience called motherhood. There is a dam blocking my ability to fully be grateful and overwhelmed by this blessing. And it has nothing to do with my son. He is perfect and I love him more than life itself. Motherhood has made me very serious and all of our problems seem worse when I believe they could possibly affect him in a negative way. I want him to have so much, so many opportunities, a life that isn't riddled with financial stress and I fear we won't be able to give that life to him.

And 2), well, this year has seriously made me doubt that there is any kind of anybody listening out there in the Universe. I have done more praying than Job and not a thing has changed. I grew up going to church, being religious and all that. And, I've always been a very spiritual person. Spirituality is from where I drew my hope, my strength. Before last year, I could always, without a doubt or a problem, cheer myself up and turn things around. I was a super-duper positive person and I NEVER had bad days. Seriously. But this year has caused a serious rift in my spirituality and I so badly want it to be healed. But, I can't find my way. I feel alone.

On a positive note, my husband and I are closer than ever before. Tough times have a way of making us join forces and become a caring and supportive team for each other. We become the other's biggest fan. And let's face it, sometimes that gets lost in a marriage. But, all this distress has brought us closer than ever. And I am grateful for that.

So, somebody hit me. Somebody give me a swift kick in the ass. Shoot me some perspective. Tell me to get a life. I need to move past all of this. I need to get my groove back. Where is Stella when you need her? I think I have cried every day for a year. It is time for it all to end!!!

I wrote a petition to God, just like the one Elizabeth Gilbert writes in Eat, Pray, Love. By the way, if you haven't read that book, go buy it. Oprah was right. It is amazing! Anyway, here is my petition. You can sign my petition in the comments if you like...maybe He will listen to us in numbers! Thanks to all and I hope everybody is having a rock star week!

Dearest God/Universe,

This is a petition. A petition for You to please intervene in my financial situation, my spiritual drought, and my lack of purpose. Please intervene and take my husband and I toward financial abundance. Please intervene and help me find peace in spirituality. Please intervene and help me find my career path and life purpose. I am currently not contributing to the good of humanity being as miserable and depressed as I am. I am not being the best mommy I can be when I am worrying about money and wishing I had a marketable passion to call my own. My son did nothing to deserve a mommy who can't give her all. I don't want to inadvertently damage him in some way because of my misery, which in turn would damage others. Our stress and unhappiness are not contributing to the beauty and peace of this world as a whole. Our lack of finances is causing us to be burdens on others who have problems of their own. I never want to stand in that DHS office again. I never want to see that look of defeat on my husband's face again. And while we are at it, I do not believe I should have to use our few resources and those of a hospital to have surgery again in order to have a second child. I petition that You intervene and help me get pregnant without surgery. A lasting pregnancy with another healthy, beautiful child. Please intervene and take away my anger. Please intervene and help me find peace again.

My deepest regards and always yours truly,

Amo

Pictures and Awards Ceremony!

Our computer is finally working. For now. Yippee! I want to send out a great big dyno-whoppin' "Thank you!" to Allyson at Pink Flip Flops and Wine for giving me her genius computer advice. My technology stunted brain says thank you very much!

As promised, here are some of the pictures from my Time Out for Theta Mom Thursday last week from the Brandi Carlisle and Amy Ray concert!

My sister, me and Liz

The talented Amy Ray from the Indigo Girls

Amy Ray (the pictures are dark...sorry)

Brandi Carlisle

And finally..drum roll please...rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr (that is a drum roll)....

my AWARDS CEREMONY!!!! It has taken Buddha-like patience for me to wait and wait until our computer was in full swing again so I could express my thanks and pass on these awards.

Now. I was given like nine awards in one month's time (2 of them I wrote about here and here) and I have been so pumped and stoked because of it. I feel like the luckiest blogger in the world to have people read my drivel and actually like it. However, a lot of these awards have rules, like how many people you are supposed to give them to in return and all of that. Frankly, most of you have received these awards before and I couldn't possibly read enough blogs to pass them on (I received the One Lovely Blog Award three times, which would be like 45 blogs I would have to reciprocate). So, I am throwing caution to the wind, throwing out the rules and doing it my own way. And, I encourage you to do the same. Pass these awards on...don't pass them on. I am giving them to you because I love your blog. Period. Sit back and enjoy.

And here we go (the anticipation is killing me!):

I received this award from One Chic Mommy at The Balancing Act of One Chic Mommy! Thank you so much Alicia! You guys should check out her latest blog entry...it is her "Question of The Week" and it is a good one...it has definitely got me thinking!

I would like to pass this award on to:

Christine's Corner

AND

Mimi Bella Boo

I received this award from The Girl with the Flour in Her Hair at Peeling an Orange with a Screwdriver! Thank you so much! I had never seen this award before receiving it. The Girl with the Flour in Her Hair writes with the perfect mixture of heart and hilarious. Please check her out! Read the top right-hand section of her blog and find out why it is called Peeling an Orange with a Screwdriver! I think it is clever!

I would like to pass this award on to:

King Max cried "Let the Wild Rumpus Begin!"

AND

Not Now Honey I Have A Headache

This award I received from Twenty-Something Momma at Ruminations of a Twenty-Something Momma! Thank you so much, Momma! Twenty-Something Momma is very friendly, too! Her blog has great giveaways, lots of adorable pictures and she is also full of the funny! Check her out!

And this award goes to.....

Lemonade Parade

AND

I've Become My Mother

The Best Blog Award I received from Momma Such at Raising My 4 Sons AND Mrs. Blogalot! Thank you, gals! Momma Such has a great blog full of giveaways and thoughtful insights. Check out her Ochanga giveaway here. I am super-stoked about this giveaway! Mrs. Blogalot is one of my new favorites. She is funny funny and I love the layout of this blog!

I would like to pass this one on to:

Two Peas in a Pie

AND

Mamma Ra

And finally, I received the One Lovely Blog Award from Christine at Christine's Corner and Nanny Dee at New England Nanny! Thank you, lovely ladies! Christine's Corner is another one of my new favorites! She is thoughtful, kind-hearted, and chill. Please check her out! And Nanny Dee, well, what mommy doesn't need her? Her blog has great tips for parents of infants, toddlers, and preschoolers. I have looked at her blog many times to find information and creative tips! Very helpful, indeedy!

And the One Lovely Blog Award goes to....

Heart and Hairspray

AND

What's Wrong with Mommy?

I enjoy reading all of your blogs so much and thank you more than I can express for reading mine. You all give me another reason to get up in the morning by traveling with me through something I enjoy...BLOGGING! I appreciate it so much and I appreciate you all sharing your lives and stories with me. If we all stick together, we can't feel all alone.

I used the word "all" a lot in that last paragraph. Whew! It was ALL over the place!