Kidnapped

Hello! Hi! Happy New Year! Oh my goodness, I've MISSED you guys! I think I've mentioned that my darling baby is a demon. Cutest demon ever..but oh my! She took the cake on Christmas day when she poured an entire cup of coffee on my keyboard.
Before I had a chance to deal with that, my parents and sister had conspired to force a vacation on me. A vacation that included no Internet, cell phones, or cable tv.

They thought they were helping. Little did they know, I was having withdrawals from you guys super bad!

Despite that, I had a wonderful time. New Years Eve was spent around a campfire listening to my brother-in-law play the guitar while all us 'redneck' folks sang drunkenly to Johnny Cash, Merle Haggard, and all the old greats. My parents have the baby out at the River, and she's spending her days being spoiled rotten by her Pawpaw.

I just got back home and have no children, dogs, or any other being here with me to distract me from getting some things done that can't wait. But, first...I have to catch up with all of you! I hope everyone had an amazing Christmas morning, and a wonderful New Years celebration. I'll write more on our great times later!

I'm ready!

I think, today, I finally got into the spirit of this Christmas. The two older Turkeys are down with another stomach bug, so we spent the day watching Christmas DVD's. Ate tons of popcorn, and the baby and I polished off an entire bag of candy cane oreos.
My oldest developed an affinity to peppermint tea (I knew it was only a matter of time) and I sent the neighbor kid home with the rest of the cookies and fudge sitting on the counter-top.

It was quiet, and lazy, and just what I needed to remind me that this is what Christmas, or any holiday, is about. Hanging out with the people you love the most, doing the things that make you smile and feel good inside, and not worrying about what tomorrow is going to bring.

I love you, my babies. Get better tonight.

I don't know, but I've been told....

Have you ever had a nightmare that you just can't shake? Or woken up terrified yet, couldn't remember what had scared you so badly? How about a funny dream that kept a smile on your face throughout the day? Or just one that you can't stop thinking of because it was, freakin' weird man.

During my first pregnancy, I developed what I call "Sleep Tuerettes." I would yell things...loudly, that probably shouldn't have been mentioned. Like the time we were at my Grandparents house for a family get-together, and I screamed "Mama!! Shut the F*** UP!!" in the middle of the night. (My Grandmother is a very serious quilter, so there are about 8 full size beds in a huge room, with about 12 of us all bunked down together. So much more humiliating than it sounds at first!)

When I was 19 or 20, I started writing my dreams down. I keep a notebook and pen beside the bed that I use for all sorts of junk. Usually, it ends up being a make-shift To-Do & Grocery List as I tend to remember crucial details just as I'm slipping off to dreamland...but there are times that it's true purpose shines through and I write something important.

This morning, I grabbed the notebook on my way to the kitchen and tossed it on the counter while I got things ready for the Turkeys to wake up. After they'd settled in to eat breakfast, I brought my coffee in to check email and try and wake up a bit more. Not even 5 minutes go by before my oldest comes to me with tears in her eyes. She'd rolled the notebook up and was squeezing it tight in her hands, and frankly, she looked like she wanted to swat me with it.

I asked her what was wrong, and she sputtered, "I..I'm sorry Mommy. Puh Puh-leeeeeze don'tmakemegoto booooooooot caaaaaaaamp!!!!!"
And, it hit me. In my dream, my daughter joined the Army. I woke up and wrote out a list of items I needed to pick up from the store. Underlined, at the top of the page, with stars on each side (my go-to for super important things) were the words, "Alyssa needs for Boot Camp."

Yep. Where's that shrink? Go ahead and sign us up, sir.
What kinds of dreams do you have, and have you ever managed to scar your children with them?

One small step for Mom....A giant leap for Baby!

My 'baby' turned 2 in August. *ouch* It's been a struggle for me to let go of every step into childhood with her. I nursed until there was literally nothing left, and mourned those lost moments with a heavy heart. The first time she crawled out of my sight, it destroyed me. She can go places without me...waaaaah! Knowing that she's my last baby has forced me to cling desperately to every precious moment in her life. Except for (oh my and how!) potty training. I was ready for that with panties and candy in hand the very second she 'noticed' the toilet!

We're pretty much good to go with it too. She wears diapers to sleep at night, and that's about it. We just recently cut them out at naptime and so far, zero accidents! She's super proud of herself, and it helps that her siblings cheer her on. She knows her panties from her sister's, and is very adamant about which ones she chooses to wear. (FYI~she prefers bug's to even *gasp* Dora!) I'm slightly proud of our accomplishment. It's really adorable to be in the grocery store and hear, "PooPoo Dillars! Now! Now! Now!" Seriously, it is.
As is the case with just about every family, we have our own language for potty training. I enjoy antagonizing her Father, so her Poo is "Stinky Steelers". He didn't quite find it as amusing as I do, but hey...he who does the work, signs the art, right?

Anyhow, this morning Beena got up and tossed her diaper in the trash (ya, I'm lying...she threw it on the bathroom floor. We're not into formalities..) and we went about our day. A while later I heard her in the bathroom saying, "Gewhoa! Gewhoa! Gewhoa!" so I went to investigate, and she'd done her business, and was saying her goodbyes as some small children are wont to do. We cleaned up, and I didn't really think anything else of it.
Until she sat down at the computer to watch a DVD of Diego while I got dressed & whatnot. See. Man. I don't even know if I can describe this correctly, but I'm going to try, cause dang it ~ I haven't stopped laughing in half an hour.

OK, so Diego & his little buddy the Iguana need to get the seeds from the strawberry plants to the town so they can be planted in time for the towns Fiesta. So, the Iguana eats the seeds. They go through a forest, across a pond, around some lily pads...you know the drill. Right before they get to the town the Iguana says to Diego, "Diego, I can't hold the seeds much longer, we need to HURRY!!!!! I have to Gooooooo!" And, Diego jumps on a vine, swings across some alligators and drops the Iguana in a garden where the rows are just waiting for the little green dude to come along, and ~yep, you guessed it~ Poo the strawberry seeds into the ground for planting. Then Diego and his cousin & uncle stand around the field and chant, "GROW! GROW! GROW!" At which time, Beena jumps up and screams, "Gewhoa! Gewhoa! Gewhoa!"

I'm not sure how to explain to her that strawberries won't be shooting out of our septic tank anytime soon. I think this is going to be traumatizing for her. It certainly has been to me!

My Boy

This is my baby boy. Tomorrow marks 8 years of my heart literally, outside my body and walking around of it's own accord. Dangerous stuff, this freedom we (as Mothers) are required to allow our own organs.

He'll be 8. To him, that's an entire lifetime. Ages & Ages. While to me, it's nothing. I just found out I was pregnant with him. Remember? No? Hmmm. Well, it felt like it was just a moment ago.
When he was born, my first baby was still a baby. I thought I had it under control. Looking back, I realize just how difficult those first years were. Their Father, while wonderful now, wasn't around then. He umm. Well, he spent some time in prison. And, while he's changed his life (for the most part)and is wonderful now...back in 2000, I was a 21 year old single Mother of 2. I worked nights at a bar so that I was with my children during the day and their Grandparents could watch them while I wasn't there. I'd pick them up at 3 or 4 AM and take them home where we'd all get in my bed and snuggle till cartoons were over around 10.
Like I said, totally under control. That is, until I got pregnant with Turkey #3 and realized that I have very little memory of Turkey #2's pregnancy, infancy, or toddler hood. I don't remember his first steps. I don't remember how long I breastfed him for sure, (only that I stopped after a month or two because he was lactose intolerant and I have weight issues that require massive amounts of dairy.) I don't remember his first words, or the first time he said "Mama."
Chalk it up to pure exhaustion.

There's no doubt that I love that little guy more than life itself. He's an easy kid. He's a great kid. He's also a bit of a genius.
Because we've moved around so much in the past year, I'm not sure what level he's actually reading at right now, (still waiting on testing results from the beginning of the school year...C'mon Folks!) but at the end of last year he was at the highest reading level for the military elementary school they attended. He's scoring 100's on Turkey #1's math tests (online tutoring, the tests can be taken as many times as we want) She's in 4th grade, and we've never taught multiplication to him. I explained the concept to him, and he gets it. Last week he was taking a division test, and missed 2 out of 30 questions. He, very matter of fact, told me that the test was wrong, that the right answer wasn't a choice and that's why he'd had to pick the closest. To be honest, I figured he'd gotten the answers wrong and didn't want to admit it, but we checked anyway. (OK, the calculator on my computer checked. Hmph!)
He was right. Here's the kicker. He's in 2nd grade. They haven't done division. He only took the test to see if he could figure it out. Granted, we're not talking long complicated division here. Easy stuff such as 36 divided by 6, but still. What the hell? So, like I said, the kid is a genius.

No matter what happens, I have my kids. On the bad days, when I'm afraid that I can't deal with life's punches anymore...they're there to remind me to suck it up. I'm very fortunate to have kids that rock. That don't cause trouble, talk back, or set the house on fire.
So ya. Tomorrow the boy turns 8. He wants pizza and a yogurt marmalade cake.

And, you can bet your bottom dollar he's gonna get it.

Here & Gone

It's over. Emotional Roller Coaster... I'm gonna make a song out of that.

I don't know where or how to start. The X called last Tuesday to say he wasn't going to be able to make it. The Army changed his schedule again, and he didn't have anyone to cover down for him.
Breathe. Sigh. Get upset. Get over it.
Cut to Thursday. My phone rang 4 times while I was conferencing with a client online. Finally answer it. The X wants to know if I'll "be around" later. Cause he's in the car. On the way. Here.
Panic. Breathe. Get annoyed. Get the house clean.
It was strange. Beena didn't know who he was or why he kept trying to hold her and kiss her. She's gone through a stage of calling every male she sees "Daddy"... so it wasn't hard for her to call him by name.

Grrr. I just can't deal with him. He IS an emotional roller coaster. While he was here, it was all about Beena. Heartfelt conversations about how much he's missed out on. How much he's missed her. Then he's gone and..just, gone. No phone calls. No emails.
His attention span is that of a 5 year old child.

The VA is requiring him to be treated for PTSD in order to receive disability for his injury. Thank you VA!!!!!!!!!
It's about time that someone else recognized the need for treatment. I'm a bit infuriated that his wife wasn't listened to during the crash of our marriage. The phone calls to his commanders that went ignored, meetings with chaplains where promises were made that never came to fruition, letters to the FRG, and Post Commander that wasted my time and brain power...
He's also being treated for something else that I'd always thought was Sergio's way of 'getting out of it'...
Apparently, there really is some short term memory loss. I can't tell you how many fights started with, "But, I told you..."
So, on that one I'll say this, "My bad"

We dressed Beena up in her Steelers outfit and bought 4 huge bags of candy in anticipation of the neighborhood hordes showing up. The older Turkeys went to their Dad's where all 4 of them dressed as pirates. (Much as I hate to admit it...they were a cute 'lil pirate family!)
Sergio left at about 8 pm after getting a phone call from the soldier who was covering his shift. Apparently, the guy's wife can't stand S. and wasn't losing her husband on his day off for him. (Ya, I've been there) So, he had to make a mad dash back to Colorado in order to get a few hours sleep before he had to work a 24 hour shift.

And, just like that...it was over. I was left with a baby dressed up for Halloween, and no-one to take her trick or treating. (I have a real problem with an empty house on Halloween night...I feel like I'm disappointing children and it hurts my heart too much to swallow.)
So, Beena and I danced around the living room, played our music waaaaaaaaaaaay too loud, and Mommy had waaaaaaaaay too much (really good) wine.
We didn't get a single trick-or-treater. I guess all the kids in the neighborhood knew that The A's were going to be in Flower Mound and didn't think (?) I'd have candy. We passed out goodie bags when the older Turkey's got home to make up for it, which saved my Mommy Soul.

Last night, my baby boy came into my room about an hour after he'd gone to bed. He was crying gut-wrenching sobs, and told me he wanted to move back to Colorado. He misses his friend, he hates it here.
We talked for a while about what it would mean if we were to move back to CO. We'd lose the friends we'd made here (ok, so I meant them...it's not as though I've really branched out). We wouldn't be as close to his Dad and the weekend visits would come to an end, and his friend (darling Gabriel) is an Army Brat...which means his life in Colorado is tenuous at best. They could be transferred at any moment with no choice but to go where the Army sends them. Just like we were when we were Army Brats.
I moved the wii to his bedroom last night because he wanted to play the new Lego Indiana Jones game, and Turkey #1 wanted to watch election updates (seriously. She's that cool!) and that triggered his memories of hanging out with Gabriel. (The pic is of Gabriel & his sister Jade) Gabe & his family lived next door to us on post. The place where my nightmares came true. I went through hell there and his Mother held me up. Her name was Maritza, and I miss her as much as my boy misses Gabriel.

Life changes and we evolve into adults based on how we react to those changes. My job is to steer my children in the direction that I hope they'll take. I hope the Turkey takes the memory of a wonderful childhood friend, and maybe this is a friendship that can last throughout the years. Maritza and I exchange emails and IM fairly often...without a doubt, it's time to get the boys in on the mix instead of just calling him in when I get a funny picture of G.

And now...its back to the grind. I'm SICK of log...wood...the color brown...google...and hello???? $50 for rights to use an image I can make with photoshop??? Jeez. Guess I'll spend 34 hours glued to that program tonight a$$wipes.

My website is up and running, albeit unfinished. Payge Diana Designs
Comments? Suggestions?

Twenty-Nine

Want that cake. No. I need that cake. Could it possibly taste as wonderful as it looks?
Ahhh...another form of art for me to obsess over. Wonder if I could make that in my kitchen.

I'm at my parent's house. We're safely ensconced in the little bedroom that I've claimed as mine, with my Beena sleeping so peacefully next to me. She doesn't know it, but she's been kissed about a gazillion times since she fell asleep. She's so beautiful.

It's been a crazy day. Between dog fights, lost keys, and an insane amount of coffee...I'm exhausted. My birthday gift from my Mom was a bag with plates, napkins, balloons, streamers, and all the other fun stuff so that I can "throw myself a party." Hey. Don't judge. She asked for (and received) rocks for her birthday. I'm lucky she didn't give me a glass jar full of dirt and tell me to save it for my Great-Grandchildren. (now there's a get rich-later scheme. Collect dirt. Someday, that stuff'll cost more than fuel!)

My brother and I almost immediately got into a heated debate over the election. That lasted right up to the point that I thought he was going to have an aneurysm. Good Times, I tell ya. Good Times.

My parents house isn't very big. My bedroom is caddy-corner to my brothers room and off the hall from the living room. I can hear my Dad watching his Western (Loud! When will someone convince him that he needs hearing aids???) And, my brother listening to music on his computer in his bedroom. My Mom's asleep (because it's late, and she's been up with babies all day) and I feel wonderful. I miss Turkey's #1 & #2...but I know how happy they are with their Dad.

So, here we go. Day 1 of 7. Get ready to be bombarded by everything log homes. Tomorrow, I'm making my Mom take me to the office to check out the computer systems there. I need to know what kind of memory I'm working with and what kinds of changes are going to have to be made before I can sit down and write out a detailed plan of what I'll need to accomplish this week.
I may not have time to write much, but I promise to keep up as best I can. This week will be the hardest. We have to figure out exactly how much work I can do from home and how much time I'll actually have to spend here in Oklahoma.
For the Turkey's...I'm hoping for a 10 to 12 day period once a month. Just me though? 24 days per month oughta cut it. Maybe a few more...

I LOVE MY MOMMY!

Jekyll & Hyde

Yesterday, as I was breezing through my day with naught a care in the world (hehehe) I got an email from the X.

X: "Hey can you call me please? It's really important"
Queen Mommy: "Nope. Sorry. Only have email at the moment as my phone is on the fritz...whats up?"
X: "It's too much to write. Just call when you can"
QM: "You ok?"
X "Yes"

So, a few hours later, I gave him a call. He did this "hold on, hold on" routine where I could hear him scrambling in the midst of the barracks to get somewhere private to talk. I'm almost positive I heard a joke directed at him about his current sex life, which sounded quite optimistic for him!

He finally gets somewhere semi-quiet and this is what he had to say,
"Um, I don't remember what I needed to talk to you about...(insert much hemming & hawing here)...oh yea, do you think you could meet me halfway between there and here in a couple weeks so I can see Corrina? I'll pay for your gas and a hotel room for the weekend. No cute stuff...we'll get two beds"

What? You haven't so much as asked about her in 5 months. Now you want me to drive for 6 hours with a child who doesn't even know who you are anymore? You're insane man. Go back to the bar...have another drink.
I should have said that. Instead I said that I would think about it.
Of course, as with everything else in my life, this isn't an easy decision. If I go, I take the risk of leaving with a broken heart. Not because I have expectations, those have been gone for some time. But, because I don't want to feel what I felt before I left him. I don't want that ache in my chest that makes it difficult to breathe. I don't want to cry all the way back home because I know my marriage is over. I've already been through that. I cried for 12 of a 13 hour trip. Basically, if I wasn't stopped at a gas station or rest stop...I was bawling. Why do it to myself again?

Well, here's why. The kid. This man and I created her together. She has a right to know him. To love him, and maybe she can help him.
Maybe she can't. Maybe this is all BS, and he's going to bail in a week or two anyway. Maybe I'm getting all discombobulated and screwy in the head for no reason.
But, what if he puts her in his car and drives away? What rights to I have? None. At least, none that will get her back immediately. If that's his plan, then I'm willing to bet there are already plane tickets purchased to get him to PA as fast as he can. And, yes...there is an airport in the town he wants to meet in.
My Mom wants me to go...but, take my Dad.

I sent him an email asking if he would prefer to fly into DF-Dub...I can pick him up from there and he can stay at my house for the weekend. That way, he has no vehicle to take off with her in, and his only ride back to the airport would be me or a $60 taxi-cab (which would be hella easy to stop if he tried to run with the kid...suckers have dispatch. So do cops.)
I didn't get much sleep last night for thinking about this. Totally threw me for a loop. I hate loops.

Torture

OK. Give. Her. Back.
It's been 3 days. I need my baby. I'm not cool with this anymore. I know she's having a great time chasing turtle's (Tuk? Where go Tuk?), and splashing in the River with her Pawpaw and bestfrienemy. But, uh...please?
It's waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too quiet out here. There isn't anyone demanding to watch Diego on the computer even though there's a perfectly good 42" television in the next room. There's no one to remind me 467 times a day that the "boobus" is coming to bring "Bubba."
No-one asking for food then throwing a temper tantrum when I make her eat. No-one slathering herself with make-up products then washing herself off with my favorite silk shirt. No-one to put each morsel of dog food into the water bowl so it's softened enough to eat.
The worst part? No kisses, no hugs, nobody climbing into the chair behind me and tickling me on the neck. No-one sneaking into my bed in the middle of the night and forcing me to cuddle with her dirty, stinky, dirt-trodden woobie.

*Sigh*

How many more days 'till this torture is over?

Yaaaaawn

Holy...What happened?...Where am I? Who am I? Whuz goin' on here?
I just got out of bed. No, I'm not sick. No, noone has died. No, there hasn't been a catastrophic emergency that had laden me with fear and reduced to a crumbling mess of nerves and therefore I stayed in bed to wait out the bad times like an old Victorian lady...though, that might be cool.
Nope. Just slept in. Till Noon.
Let me clarify, I did get up at 6:30 as usual to wake up the older Turkey's. But, as I was pulling the box of cereal out of the pantry for their breakfast of champions, Turkey #1 says, "Mom, you never have a morning without Corrina, why don't you go back to sleep and I'll let you know before we get on the bus." (That child is friggin' amazing, I tell ya!)
It is unbelievable what a full night (and half the day)'s sleep can do for you.
The wind is blowing outside, and my chimes sound beautiful. There's a cool breeze coming in through the open windows, that smells heavenly. The dogs are chillin' out peacefully, and I haven't heard a baby cry in 24 hours.
Someone come pinch me so I'll know this is real.

Steppin' Up

My folks are in the log cabin business. My Mother & Grandfather run the sales and building side of things and my Father does the restoration. (Please excuse all the shameless link plugging...but I want you to love log homes as much as we do, and subsequently purchase one of the beauty's and help fund my children's college educations fall in love every time you pull into your drive.)
Anyway, back to my original thought...um, what the heck was my original thought? Oh yea, Log Homes and How They're Changing My Life.

My brother and I are both going to work for my parents off & on for a while. He's gone ahead out to Oklahoma with our baby daughters while I get things sorted out here. I'll be headed back to the river on Friday (if all goes as planned), and the older Turkeys will stay here with their Dad and StepMom-ish. Yes. Here. In my home. My sanctuary. The place where no one can hurt me or give me grief. And, I've invited the enemy to sleep in my bed (ew. ew. ew. ew.) and gave them the responsibility of getting my children to school. Making sure they have their homework before they leave in the morning. Brushing their teeth!!!
One of the reasons the judge gave me custody in the odd situation we were in, was because Turkey #1 almost failed Kindergarten. (Texas doesn't require K, so we were able to sneak past the system. Because it wasn't her fault.)
She was absent or tardy more than 65 days of the school year. And by tardy, we're talking 10 or 11 in the morning. I'm sorry, but no 5 year old should be responsible for getting herself up, fed, dressed, ready & off to school without an adults help.
(I was working at a law firm with very demanding hours. Lived in a crappy area. His parents have loot and live in an exclusive neighborhood with an amazing school, so the kids stayed with him during the week)
I've had custody since then, and both kids are doing fabulous in school. (I'll brag on that in another post.)
I believe, cause I can be an optimist, that they've grown up and know better. That they'll be able to wake up long enough to get done, the things that need to be done. Then go back to sleep till the Turkeys get home from school.
We're going to try it for a week. I don't know if or how it's going to work out, but I'm preparing myself by knowing that this is a hell of a lot better than hiring some random person to care for the lives of two of my favorite people.
I know that the kids will be safe and taken care of. I know that they won't be ignored, or abused. If that means I have to let them stay in my house, use my bathroom, be together *ugh* in my bed (then burn the sheets and sanitize the mattress) and all that, then so dang be it.
But let me warn you now. If that hootchie Mama so much as scratches any of my cookery, I promise, it will be all out WAR.

My Mom wants me to be there, and that's the biggest reason I want to go. After all that this year has brought, I can be so grateful that it's brought me (literally) closer to my Mom. Instead of emails talking about our lives, we're getting to live them together. I know my parents want me to move to Oklahoma. They've both all but begged for it. They want this company to thrive because the name Heritage means more than just a brand. (I know this also sounds like shameless plugging, but it is the honest to God truth) The homes, and the company that my family is involved in are meant to be passed down from generation to generation. My parents want to be retired. They would love nothing more than to see my brother and I run the restoration side of the company. My Dad would love nothing more than to spend his days with his baby Granddaughters down by the river chasing turtles, and counting fish.
But, my kids have been in so many different schools already. Leaving Sergio, the military...that was all supposed to bring a stop to things. I promised to settle them, and I can't break a promise to my children. I have to stick it out here for a while.

Ugh. I hate being conflicted. It would be so easy to just go to my parents. Let my Mom take care of me for a while. Take a break. Enjoy the peace and quiet. Rake in the dough, and stash most of it away...

Sorry for the off topic, random, back & forth post tonight. My brain is on overload....

Relatively Speaking

We've got house guests.

My brother & his daughter are going to be staying with us indefinitely. Um. Indefinitely. That sounds serious. It's not that serious. I don't think. The economy sux. Times are hard. We're both currently single & our kids are related. So, after discussing it for months he finally gave up his rathole apartment (I never saw a rat...but it wasn't pretty.)
The kids are having a great time, and I love having my niece here. Don't tell anybody, but she's kinda my favorite. Shhhhh...
Lilly-Pie is 10 weeks older than Beena-Baby, and they're supposed to be BFF's. Cause we want it that way. They've voted the other direction though, and basically told us to cram it where the sun don't shine. So, it's been 5 days of fighting, toy stealing, tears, outright tantrums, & other loveliness that I'm sure you're so jealous of you can't sit still right now. Right? Right? Hello? Where did you go???
On top of the little bullies...Lilly-Pie has strep throat. She isn't one of those sweet lil babe's that take medicine and make a scrunched up face and you kiss her cheek and give her a sucker for being such a good girl! Hell. No.
Think the Exorcist. Only in a two year old child's body, and instead of green spit substitute bright a$ pink $40 prescription medicine. Kid contorts her body into such shapes you imagine she's breaking herself. Scary.
They are into, on top of, & destroying everything in sight and between me and you...I'm loving every minute of it.
I really am a Mom. Through and through. While I enjoy 'naptime'....I always spend the last half hour or so wondering how long it's going to take the kiddo to get up and keep me company. If the house is too quiet, I feel alone. Don't know what the heck I'm gonna do when these Turkey's decide to grow up and get lives of their own. Probably bribe them to live with me. With cookies.

P.S. ~ Sorry for the old picture...he didn't bring my camera. Jacka$$

Alec the Highlander

This video was made by a friend of ours quite some time ago.
It depicts Turkey #2 as "Alec the Highlander" and Turkey #1 as "the Villain"........you can also hear Turkey #3 wailing in the background at one point. I believe she was only about 5 months old or so at the time, so she was most likely wailing for boobage. TMI? Sorry. My bad.
It's a great video and one that makes me laugh because it's so indicative of their true personalities. Watch, and see!

Also, please excuse the spelling of "coming" at the end, and understand that it was truly a typo on behalf of the guy who created the video. He's a bad A$$ soldier, and I'd trust him to protect my children in the line of fire....In a spelling bee ~ not so much.

Enjoy!


Alec the Highlander

Chore Store

I've implemented a new program 'round here in order to facilitate a cleaner, happier home.
Using an idea I stole from Pioneer Woman, (and revamped to work for us) we now have our very own, "Mommy Store."

I've bought a few UBFunkey's (Cause they're super cheap), some pretty sketch pads, and some random 'kid junk' that I picked up at the local Family Dollar. There are also coupons that they can purchase to get out of doing chores. Those cost some serious Mom Bucks...but they're in there. Also some really Mom friendly ones, like; Take everyone out for ice cream~Mom's treat; and, 2 Hours free video/movie Time with snack. (Silly Turkey's don't even realize that means I get 2 hours quiet time with snack!)

I'm using a white board (that's actually blue...go figure) to write out each chore that I want to see completed. Beside each one is a point system. cleaning their bedrooms, for example, is 1 point. At the end of the week, we'll calculate the points each Turkey has accumulated. (We have a pink board for that!) For every 5 points, they'll receive 1 "Mom Buck" (I found an old old old box of checks that I've been marking the pertinent info off of, and issuing "Paychecks"...luckily, the Bank of Mom will never go out of business!)

This morning, in the midst of lost hairbrushes, misplaced lunchboxes, and general chaos that ensues each day beginning at 6am, Moonshine came up to me and announced that not only had he dressed himself, brushed his teeth, readied his backpack (lost lunchbox & all) but he'd also made his bed, picked up his books from last night, and put his water bottle back in the fridge after he'd written his initials on the lid. He also wanted to know, "If I have enough money in Mom bucks, do I have to wait until store day to play with my new Funkey?"....aw. Dangit. I'm such a pushover. YES YOU HAVE TO WAIT! It's Mine. All Mine! Muahahahahaha! (At least until next Sunday, when I pull out the box and bad checks start flying through the air!)

I can't wait to see how this turns out. Before, we were using a demerit system. They'd lose points for forgetting. I hate being the bad Mom. Hate feeling like I'm always the one making them do chores, homework, hygiene. I want to be the good guy for once. I think this is a huge step towards that. Instead of giving Lyss a demerit for not making her bed, I simply ignored it and handed Moonshine the marker to give himself points while she looked on and calculated how many Mom bucks he'd just made.

And, after seeing this...she hauled butt to her bedroom and made her bed, picked up hers & the Baby's toys, and cleared the dining table of breakfast dishes. So. I need to win that doll. Otherwise, I'm in real trouble here. Can a Mom store give out IOU's??

Asserting my Independence

Ahhhhh...Naptime! The small niche in my day where I can fold laundry, or empty the dishwasher in peace. I love naptime. I might (once or twice a year) use naptime as a time to catch up on housework that I can't do when the Demon child is awake. (Like all of them) Or, I could spend an hour or so outside weeding my pretend flower beds & mangled vegetable garden.
But, on an average day I use this time as mine.
If I want to try on every outfit in my closet in the hopes that I might someday meet another adult outside my house, for dinner~I will.
If I want to chat on the phone aimlessly for an hour about nothing in particular~I will.
Or, if I want to soak in the bathtub, blessedly uninterrupted, until my toes shrivel up and fall off~I most certainly will.
Cause I can. Cause it's my time. And, cause I'm the Alpha Dog around here!
Uh-oh. Sounds like someone disagrees. Gotta go.


P.S. Go check this out at Jenny's Happy Life and win something for the Turkey's in your life!

Solo Parenting & The Other Dad

This weekend is one of the weekends that the two oldest Turkey's spend with their Dad. One of the upsides of moving back to DF-Dub (vs. fighting it out with the X in Colorado for however long) was that they would be closer to him. Who, regardless of his inability to grow up & become an adult, is a fantastic Dad. Loves those kids with his entire being. He's a good guy. We were simply way too young (16 when we met & 19 when we had the first Turkey.) and way too different to be together. Fortunately, we were never married. Fortunately, we both agree that our kids rock. Fortunately, I have difficulties coming up with other words when my mind is stuck on fortunately.

If he and I were able to simply parent our children without his parent's guidance, we would probably have very little in the way of difficulties. But, his Mother. Oh. Lord. Help. Me.
This woman is the bane of my existence. She's the Tom to my Jerry. The Hillary to my Sarah. The, the, the.....DEVIL.

I recently bought my oldest Turkey (9) a pay as you go cell phone from AT&T. Calls to her Dad, his parents & girlfriend, me and my parents were all free. Any other calls she made were $.10 per minute. (With a fee of a dollar per day). The stipulation was that she has to pay to put minutes on it. As expected, because she's 9, once the first $15 that I put on there was gone, she didn't have the patience to save her money to get more minutes.
Cut to last week. I'm on the phone with her Dad's girlfriend. (Why? Someone please tell me why the hell I have to deal with her?) She tells me that "Nana" has bought the oldest Turkey a cell phone. Put it on her plan like everybody else in their family.
Whoa. Wha? Excuse Me? Your Kidding Me. Right?

I'd really like to give that woman a piece of my mind. The problem is this. She's got money. There is a reason that she can afford to support her 28 year old son, and his girlfriend in high style. And she can use that money just as easily to hire an attorney to take me back to court.
I don't have the funds available. Partly because, when we first went to court I stupidly asked for nothing but my children. I didn't request child support. I wanted my kids.

So, I keep my mouth shut. When they ask if they can pick the kids up 3 hours early and drop them off 2 hours late, I say, "of course." When they claim that they have a 4th of July "Tradition" even though the papers clearly state to alternate holidays, I suck it up and take the baby to my parents without the rest of my crew, then make apologies to the cousins they haven't seen in a year.
When my daughter is taught that rules are made to be broken. When my son is taught that he has a right to play video games and that I'm mean for sending him outdoors to play. When they're both told that I should feed them foods that they enjoy instead of "being selfish in the kitchen"...
I keep quiet. I smile when he brings his girlfriend to pick up my children and they take off running to jump into her arms. I laugh when my son mistakenly calls her Mom, then looks at me with a guilty expression on his face. And, I let the tears pour down my face when their car pulls out of the driveway.

When his Mother decides that she's ready for my kids to live in her house again (did I forget to mention that he still lives with his parents?), she'll pay for her son to take me back to court. She'll buy him the best attorney money can buy.
And all I'll be able to fight back with is the consistency of my parenting. Two children who are doing fantastic in school, who are well fed, groomed, and certainly loved. And, my willingness to adapt myself so that they can continue to have a healthy and vibrant relationship with their Father.

I have all of this on the brain today, because I promised Lyss that I would invite her Dad and the GF over for dinner, and am feverishly trying to figure out what to prepare to make myself look like the culinary genius that I pretend to be. I'm going to have to also figure out a way to make myself not look to be a bitter, angry, demented bitch woman because of all this drama swirling about in the shadows.

Will you help me? I have less than 2 weeks to prepare.

Starlight, Starbright....

First Star I see tonight. I wish I may, I wish I might, make a wish upon you tonight.

The night my littlest baby was born was bittersweet. I was finally holding the little Turkey who'd been kicking me for months, and forced me to bed rest weeks before she made her squalling appearance. Of course I was happy, thrilled, and madly in love. But, I was also tired and achy, grouchy & sad. My family had all visited and left at my request...I wanted to be alone with my newest Angel.That day, I'd spent hours before, during, and after the labor & delivery with a cell phone plastered to my ear, talking to my husband in Baquabah, Iraq. His Commander's had given him the day off and he'd spent his day in a tiny cubby hole not nearly big enough for his 6'4" frame.
My Mom kept the video camera running right up until the last moment (due to some strange new rules regarding video taping in the birthing room) and Sergio stayed on the phone the entire time.
I still don't know why, but I was afraid for him to hear me make a sound. I didn't want him to think I was in pain. Though~ duh. He told me later that it made him unsure of what was going on. All he heard were the Dr and nurses telling me I was doing great and "PUSH". After she was born and being weighed the Dr. chimed in to Sergio, "I'm Proud of you Daddy! You didn't even Faint!" with her light southern accent, and sweet little voice.
After that things went blurry. There were people in and out of my room, Flowers everywhere. Sergio had sent 2 huge bouquets himself, and my mother (always aware of peoples feelings) cheated and had a bouquet sent "from Daddy" (just in case he wasn't able to get a florist) along with the flowers & fruit from her and my Father. All up and down the halls were doors with baby wreaths on them. Beautiful creations of ribbon, and plastic booties & pacifiers. My door boasted an Army poster of a Blackhawk & the saying, "An Army of One."
It wasn't what I would have ever wished for. And, oh, how I feel for women who are going through the same thing. But, it was beautiful. I bonded with my baby even more because I wanted to savor each and every tiny moment of her life. I knew that my phone would ring (usually around 4 am, and right after I'd just nursed her back to sleep) and I would get to relate each burp, funny face, and goofy noise to someone who was just as obsessed with the news as I was. I appreciated holding her close to me, and the smell of her hair even more because I wanted to be able to describe it to him in perfect detail.
My baby is 2 now. Into everything. And dangerous. Scary dangerous. But, I'll never forget the deep, raw love I had for her in those first few months. Where just looking at her could send my heart pitter-pattering and I would be overcome with a fervent desire to hold her little body close to mine and breathe in deep, the scent of my child. Where being away from her for even an hour was an intrusion of epic proportions, and I refused at any cost.
There's nothing like the first few weeks of falling in love with your newborn child. Getting to know them in a way that you'll be able to build on for the rest of your lives. Pretty soon, the love you feel stops making you tear up with a flood of emotion and grows into the confidant, relaxed, easy love of a Mother & Child.
I hope, when my children are old enough to have their own children that I'll remember to pass along the best piece of advice I was given, "Savor Every Moment."




Thanks for giving me the idea for this post, and if you enjoy creative writing, be sure and check this out before the contest ends! What a fun way to celebrate becoming a new Mom (again!) I had a lot of fun digging deep into the memory banks and remembering the feelings from those first few weeks. Made me go smother my baby Turkey with Sloppy Kisses!
Congratulations to those expecting!!

School is sucking me dry...

At this fabulous time in my life, I am without a vehicle. My husband and I had bought a super perdy Mitsubishi Galant Ralliart about a year ago. Then, sold my mini-van and bought him a motorcycle.
When I told him I was leaving, he agreed to pay the car note & insurance in lieu of child support. (Cause the last thing he wants to do is spend his hard earned money directly on his child)
Before I had a chance to even move out of our home, I found out that he hadn't been paying the car note. Of course he wanted me to take it. He knew I wouldn't be pimpin' it too long.
He never did pay the note, and my beautiful car was repossessed a few weeks ago. I'm working my way up to paying cash for a semi-beater because the last thing I need in my life right now is another bill. In the meantime, I'm relying on a dear friend to take me wherever I need to go. Problem is, it's a 30 minute drive to get to me. It truly sucks, because I am not a planner. I've never been a list person...even though I. Try. So. Hard. In order to be (*ahem*) afoot, you must be able to plan. Otherwise, you go to the store and you forget staples like sugar and tortillas.
Who forgets sugar? And, we use tortillas daily around here. (Great for rolled up PB&J's for the baby Turkey)
So yesterday, as I was pondering the fact that there are 2 recipes in the universe that don't call for sugar, and both of them call for tortillas...my Angel Faced 2nd Turkey hands me a note in RED writing that says "Bring snacks for 21 kids." That's all. No, please. No Thank you. I don't know about you, but RED writing from a teacher always scares the crap out of me. I found myself huddled in the bathtub with a woobie wrapped around me and my thumb in my mouth while rocking back and forth and crying, "Mommy?" "Mommy?"
Then I remembered that I am Mommy. Shit.
What I would like to know is, when the hell did school get so friggin' expensive? Why am I bringing snacks once a month for the entire class? Is there a party every day? Why are school pictures taken twice a year now? (And, why are the Spring pictures so much nicer than the Fall pictures?) Why are there Book fairs every damn month? Why did I buy $80 worth of school supplies for the boy only to be told that I need to send another $40 for more supplies?
There are forms every week for t-shirts, bags, fundraisers, money, money, money!
And, if you don't send the money that the school wants, you doom your child to be the only kid in the WHOLE SCHOOl that doesn't have his/her whole body plastered with the school name. (Which in our case is just not a real appealing one.)
I actually used to love doing the kids school parties. Making pretty platters of fruit & cheese...Now, you get no choice. The day before the party you get a note demanding to see 87 pizzas from the Italian eatery 2 states away on the teachers desk before noon the next day. And, it's written in red ink.

(That's my Daddy up there...and dang. I miss that car!)

Positive Thoughts......

I totally wanted to post a blog today, but I have nothing positive to write about. I don't really mind writing about the ups & downs, the crappy with the good, right? But if I feel like I'm just being a whiny, snivelling, cry-baby. Well. I've got some pride left. (And, besides...what is my Mommy supposed to be for?)
So, instead of alienating anyone that's had the misfortune of landing on my page today, I decided to post a simple, sweet survey. OK. Maybe not so much sweet. I am a bit bitter these days. Sorry.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Have you ever showered naked with someone?
Yes I have. Several times. You should try it.

Where was the first kiss you had with the last person you kissed?
In the hospital room where she was born.

Who is your last text from & what does it say?
Not a clue

Latest you stayed up in the past week?
About midnight. That's when I finally feel like I've had a moment to breathe and can sleep.

Are you listening to music right now?
Always

Are you currently craving any piercings or tattoos?
I'd like to get a small clover somewhere to go with the small butterfly I have somewhere else. :-)

How long can you go without your phone?
we shall soon see....

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
My Jen-nay

Who last called you babe/baby?
My Dad-day

Does your phone ring in the middle of the night often?
Not very often, no. When it does it better be important. And, it usually is. Barring late night wanna-be hook-up phone-sex BS from the X.

Do you know anyone who is married that shouldn't be?
Right here folks.

Do you curse in front of your parent(s)?
ya. I've got a horrible potty mouth

What is your current annoyance?
do not get me started.

Last time you saw fireworks, with who & where?
Driving home from my parents 4th of July party with my brother in my car. Enough info?

Are you afraid of roller coasters?
Yes. They don't make them safe enough for people of my itty-bitty ness.

Who pissed you off yesterday?
do not get me started.

What are you supposed to be doing right now?
This is MY time. I'm supposed to do WTF I want.

Are you slowly drifting away from someone?
perhaps

When was the last time you felt unbearably guilty?
Weekly, Daily, Hourly......I'm a Mother. It comes with the territory.

Are you bored?
no. I'm vegging. I want to blog, but I have nothing hopeful or helpful to write about so I'm keeping my trap shut. Or not, since I'm doing this survey...but whatev's. (My oldest Turkey said that today to her brother. LMAO!)

The last person you talked to on MSN?
Just got MSN the other day to talk to Er-nin, my sister from another Mr.

Have you ever kissed anyone who's name started with an a?
Yep.

What do you currently hear right now?
JuJu snoring, and Beyonce singing "Naughty Girl" (itunes on shuffle, mkay?)

How old do you think you will be when you kick the bucket?
9 Million Years Old.

Would you rather watch football or baseball?
I'd rather be footballed in the face with a baseball.

Where is your number best friend?
Sierra Vista, AZ

Three things you did today?
made my bed
danced with Mickey Mouse through my House of Mouse
forced the Turkeys to take their Gatorade's and butts outside so I could sit in the garage and smoke a ciggy in peace.

Did anyone see you kiss the last person you kissed?
Maybe. All 3 Turkeys were in the room when the smallest one cornered me and smothered me with her sloppy kisses.

Have you ever kissed in the rain?
Yes. It's not as romantic as it looks

Have you ever fallen asleep in someones arms?
Maybe. But I can't sleep touching someone, so maybe not.

What are you doing tonight?
not a heck of a lot if this is any indication

Do you know someone whos pregnant?
My Jen-nay. And, she better STAY pregnant for at least 5 more weeks dadgummit!

Do you still talk to the person you last kissed?
whats your obsession with the last person I kissed? It's my baby. My little 2 year old punkin face baby. Can I NOT kiss her without you planting stories in the press and having the papparrazi stake out my home with video's and flashbulbs? Wha? Huh? No-one's staking out my house taking pictures of me? I'm not famous? That is quite unfortunate, as I've totally invited ALL my friends to the awards ceremony when I win my Emmy. Shit.

Does anyone hate you?
A certain X just may. He just may.

Last place you hugged someone?
Alec's bedroom when I hugged him good-night. He doesn't like kisses anymore. Wipes 'em off. Makes me sad, so we just fore-go the whole experience.

Do you know anyone named Matt?
Sho' 'Nuff. He gave me away at my wedding. Fucker. What the hell were you thinking??? It was your job to yank my a$$ out of that hideous "church". Wanna pay for the divorce?

When was the last time you talked to one of your siblings?
Few days ago.

Is your hair curly or straight?
Straight

Who was the last person you took a picture with?
My kids maybe....don't know. There were lots of cameras at my Mom's party. (Not mine though. Thanks Travis.)

Do you have a best friend?
A few. Luckily.

Do you remember what you were like a year ago?
Yes. It was a sad state of affairs.

Do you use smiley faces on the computer too much?
Whats your definition of too much? :-) ;-) :-p :D

Who did you last go out to eat with?
Marc and my chit-lins

Do you wear glasses?
I'm supposed to. But that Bratty Baby Turkey keeps breaking them. Gonna hafta beat her one of these days.

Is the sun shining?
Somewhere...

What jewelry are you currently wearing?
a necklace my old neighbor and dear friend made for me

What were you doing at 10pm Friday night?
I think I was sleeping? Maybe? I don't know. That was almost a week ago dangit.

Where was your honeymoon?
Hahahhahaha! My husband was on mid-tour leave from Iraq. At the time I told myself that he deserved to spend that time hanging with his friends even if it meant I didn't really get a honeymoon. Now, I realize it was just another excuse for him to party. Just like our wedding was. A$$hole was drinking a beer before I even made it to the reception. No, there was no "Entrance of the Couple" or whatever. Ugh. Bad question.

Have you ever broken someone's heart?
Yes. It sucked.

Do you have any weird inside jokes?
I'm a weird inside person.....so yep.'

Do you find piercings attractive in the opposite sex?
not necessarily

Could you go the rest of your life without electricity.
No internet? Kill me now.

Name something you dislike about the day you're having?
Um. Let's not go there. Not blogging because I can't think of positive rays to send out...remember?

Is there anybody you're really disappointed in right now?
Yep.

Do you miss someone?
Dearly

Do you watch a lot of TV?
not at all. When I get uber bored, I watch my shows online

What was the last reason you went to the doctor for?
to tell her I wasn't taking any more of their "crazy pills".....they didn't advise me to stop. But they were the same bastards who advised me to start being a zombie with a pretty complexion. Dusty, dirty, cobwebby time of life. Thank God it's over.

Do you think you will be in a relationship 3 months from now?
Goodness, no!

Have you ever wanted something you couldn't have?
Haven't we all?

(The picture is of my middle Turkey. My only boy Turkey. He's the one that makes my heart beam rainbow's out my a$$. See why?)

Retreat to the River

The Turkeys and I are packed and ready to go to my parent's house for the weekend. My Mother's 50th birthday is looming, and her parents & assorted siblings & cousins have planned a surprise party for her tomorrow morning.
She knows though. Betcha money she knows. They all do this for each others 50th. And, hello, my brother and I are driving in together tonight for an impromtu visit. She's gonna know the second she hears us pull up the drive...
I'm totally stoked! It really is wonderful to live close enough to my parents that a weekend visit isn't a 4 month long planning process! (I knew there were redeeming qualities to DF-Dub!)

On another note, Hurricane Ike is being a rat bastard about wanting to eat him some levees. I think I'll be safer on the Illinois River in Oklahoma than I will be in my little house scared and alone with a buncha' squawbling turkeys.

I shall be back with pictures of several 50 (& younger & older) year young women dressed in ball gowns having a food fight....or some variation thereof. If you're really good this weekend, I may even post video of them singing their (horrid) rendition of "Happy Birthday"

(The photo above was taken at my parents Independence Day party. The river is their front yard....and it's a beautiful oasis to go to when you've had a week as traumatizing as we've had 'round here)