Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Grinch on the shelf...

I wouldn't call myself the Grinch. If I ran into him at Starbucks, I'd foot the latte. I mean, we have a tree. It is decorated. I made the kids do it and it looks like the Grinch and I decorated it blindfolded, drunk, and left handed, but it is done.

I am fine with people and their holiday cheer. For the most part. Its like herpes... probably a good idea to let people know you have it but not so much
to share panties with.

Christmas sweaters are good. Saying HO HO HO instead of hello, strange but acceptable- barely.  Wear a Santa hat to Wal-Mart, you will probably be asked where the restrooms are more times than you would like, but that is your prerogative. Putting some antlers on your car is sure to prove you're a Christmas bad***.

And then there is The Elf on the Shelf. I am just not THAT kind of mom. I will jump on the couch with you. I will listen to you practice the same song on your violin 386 thousand times- there is bound to be a drink break, but it will still happen. I will watch every Home Alone with you,except 5 that one is stupid. I will throw a ball to you until I can't move my arm for the next week. But I will not buy a tiny little elf and have it do stupid things to prove that he is real. Stupid stuff happens all the time. For instance, I just found a turd in the shower. I could blame it on the elf, but we all know the kid with poor wiping skills just took a shower.

Anyway, I had a little run in with a lady yesterday. Of course the elf came up. I think that all the pics on Facebook are cute. The blog posts, all of it. I just am not willing to take the time. I will forget or loose it and then kids are crying and I am destroying the house trying to locate the miniature derelict and my patience is fried by 7 am. NOT WORTH IT..

Here is the scene:

The youngest boy, girl and I walk in. The lady immediately walks over to talk. I attract the crazies, people, it is like my bra has a magnet in it. She comes over and is talking about Santa. And then the conversation goes south.

Lady: What is your Elf's name?

Boy:  looks at her like she has just busted out of the looney bin.

Lady: Oh you should get an Elf. Blah a blah... gag me with a stick blah blah I am the most amazing mom-ish creature on the face of this earth and you should do everything like I do. I should write the ten mom commandments, gag gag blah.

Breathe.

Lady: Why don't you have an Elf of the Shelf?

Me: That little fella would hitch hike straight to hell because hanging out with Lucifer is less work.

Lady:  looks down at Cam and says "you want an Elf on the Shelf don't you?"

Broad has crossed the line. I am irritated, not willing to go to jail irritated, but seriously, toeing the line , much? So I am just keeping my mouth shut. barely.

Lady:  Seriously, that doll is life changing..

Me: So was Chuckie...

And I just walked away.

Seriously, lady. I had three kids before you had your first grown up tooth. Don't tell me what makes a good parent. The only people who can tell me that is Jesus and Child Protective Services. And if either of them tell me I need to get an Elf. I will walk through every neighborhood in the state of Missouri to track down your antler raped mini van and steal yours...

Friday, December 20, 2013

Fly on the wall: December

Karen's brainchild, my family. You are officially a fly on my wall...
Don't forget to check out all the other fabulous walls, I hear some of them bring food- or recipes at least...

Who we are...
Me- Fat Amy (Duncan)
R-A 15 year old teen girl.
K-An 11 year old girl
G-A 10 year old boy
Griff-7year old boy
Cam Diddy-5 year old boy
Carter-7 month old girl

We have been battling illnesses and ridiculous schedules so it may be a little lame...well, lame for my house...

We hosted Thanksgiving, it turned out fine. Except the hubs decided to put the turkey carcass in the garage fridge. Well, I wasn't privy to this information and found it a week later when I went to put a gallon of milk out there. Cam Diddy thought  there was a robber in the garage and brought a broom out to protect me.

Carter had her first ear infection. She didn't handle the antibiotics well. If you feel the need to know more about her crap crusade scroll down a little further. At the very least it will help out your diet.

R has a thing about bad friend choices. This extends to boyfriend choices. It may have been mentioned that a certain friend choice was a one way ticket to the Maury  Show.

The insurance company overturned their denial, so Carter is getting the RSV shots. A HUGE relief.

That being said, I took Carter out in public, real public- not an outside baseball game or hiding in a corner not fully being able to see a kid's game. I got to sit at a restaurant for G's 10th birthday. It felt so weird. The last time I have been in real public was in March before the whole hospital bedrest/preemie shenanigan began.

Carter was cleared by the Opthamologist, her few little issue from being a preemie cleared up on their own!

Cam told me a joke. He informed me that he was going to tell his Grandma (mil) but he was going to tell her it was my joke and see if she liked it first. And if she likes it he was going to tell her it was his, if not "well", and he shrugged shoulders.

Took Carter for a re-check on her ear, and turned out that the antibiotics didn't work and she had an ear infection in the other ear too. But the NP was shocked that she was ten weeks early because of how big she was. 14 pounds even... 10 pounds and 10 ounces bigger.

Carter started smacking her lips to blow a kiss and holding her arms out to be held. And accidentally threw a Ma in with her jabbering. 

Now if she could mix in a little roll over or sitting up...

R finally made a club volleyball team. After so many try outs and a couple of alternate positions she made a team. A team that ranked a lot higher than the others and that I didn't think she had a chance in uhem in making...

I have been trying to convince R that courtship and purity is what we believe in, it's not working. My goal is to keep her from getting knocked up, locked up or turnt up while she is under my roof. If anyone has any suggestions....

K is about to turn 12, somehow the kid lost count because the kid's attitude is like she is 16...

You can see the floor of my closet... It's been a while.

I have been spending lots of time in the boys bathroom steaming Carter, I never realized how nasty those boyd were. Seriously, it's like they squat off the sink to poop in the toilet. I am about 15 seconds from making them squat on the sink to measure and test projectory to figure out which nasty is doing it... Thank God for Clorox wipes.

My chiropractor asked about my mucous plug....

5 days til Christmas and 5% of my shopping is done... 

It snowed here, we live on the corner of a main road and a big subdivision, we get to see all the action. Sobriety tests, car searches and best of all cars sliding in the snow. So the kids and I came up with this game. It's called clean or dirty, the condition of their trousers after their slide...

Go visit the rest of the gals listed below, they won't disappoint....








Friday, December 6, 2013

You would think I would know by now...

           * Weak stomached individuals need to get your  S & G's elsewhere*

I have done this baby thing six times. You would think I would know by now...

Little Carter has an ear infection. Simple enough. Throw some antibiotics at the kid and its a day at the park. I am very allergic to penicillins, like Violet Beauregard looks anorexic compared to me just from touching it, allergic. That means that my kids surpass the easy peasy and go for the big dogs.

That is a game changer.

Last chance to walk away, people. Challenge accepted? It's your purse you're puking in...

Carter has a rachet stomach to begin with. The kid doesn't crap. I try to give her solids and she is purple faced for a week. Nurse her, same. Formula, same with a side of projectile vomiting. It's a real prize.

So now that you know her bowel cycle and the fact she is on antibiotics, lets reminise about what happened yesterday. Unfortunately, there were sequals today. We are up to a quadrequal- a new word, your welcome.

Yesterday she was fussy and I picked her up. I felt a weird squish on her back. You know *that* squish. Skin on skin with a little, uhem, extra.

The look of horrification upon my face scared Carter.

As she started to cry the contents of her diaper started to well up and spill out even more all over my arm and farther up her back. I took her upstairs to my bathroom and started the tub. I have a garden tub and a bad back. So I stripped down into my underwears and got in to hold her up in the water.

I have no clue what I was thinking. I had taken off her shirt but had missed a very vital thing, the diaper. When a diaper gets soaked it swells and  it explodes. Between the turds and the diaper gel, the bathtub drain clogs.

I am literally swimming in sewage.

I am trying to hold her up with one hand- since she is not quite a sitter (add an h and you are spot on) and scoop the crap-laced gel from the tub.

I have this thing. I laugh at the most inappropriate times. I can't help it. You hit your head and bleed all over, I laugh until I cry. I am laughing so hard I am crying, but the thought of sitting in a tub of shat with diaper beads makes me dry heeve. So it goes a little like this. Scoop. Scoop. Gag. Laugh. Wipe tear, hoping there has been no oversplash. Scoop. Gag. You get the point.

It was UGLY. And then Carter spit. And by spit, I mean fill a bucket with curdled breastmilk. I looked at her face. When I took off her shirt somehow I had smeared poop all over her cheek and on her lip. All I can say is, I am so glad it was her own...

I wipe her face and just lay her on a towel on the floor so I can clean the tub. Get it clean so we give this another go.

I put her in the tub, and get in. The water is running Cam, the 5 year old, is playing on my phone and sitting on my sink and kicking the cabinet below. The phone volume is turned all the way up. My bathroom has vaulted ceillings, so all sound travels. Carter is a preemie, and is over-stimulated very easily. All the sound was too much.

She started to cry. The more tears, the more poop. What does a 7 month old baby do when they are sitting in water? Yep. Turd-drums. Her "music" was everywhere. Her hair, my hair. Eyelashes, arm pits. Window sil, grout. All of it. Droplets of human feces and bathwater. Everywhere.

At this point I figured she was done. There couldn't possibly be more. I stood up with her and just about to get out and clean up the mess. I turned her around and said " What have you done little girl?" She smiled and put her hand in my mouth.

She put her muddy water hands in my mouth.

I lost it. There wasn't a dry heeve in the house.

So let's put this into perspective. Carter crapped up the water. Splashed it everywhere, put her crap-infected hand in my mouth. I puked, standing in the tub. I am stepping out of the tub and then I hear it. The ahh ahh that preceeds the choo. I turned as fast as I could and held that 13 pound turkey butt over the tub.

I will never be able to look at a super soaker the same way again. Same sound, different substance.

It went a little like this: ah ah choo shpaaah splat. aaah choo schplaaaah splat. aaah schoo plllt.

The plllt was a fart. Signifying the end of the war with Carty's intestines.

Mom- 0    Crap- more than I can count...



Friday, November 29, 2013

Preemie Stories: Audrey Rayne

Gabriela is sharing her daughter Audrey's story. Just like my Carter, her daughter was born 10 weeks early. Sit back, grab some tissues and watch her little miracle unfold....

My daughter Audrey Rayne was born Wednesday July 17,2013 at 30 weeks weighing 2lbs 3oz (990g) and was 13 1/4 inches long. I went in for a regular check up feeling totally fine come to find that I apparently was not. My blood pressure was extremely high(triple digits on too and bottom). I had suffered from high blood pressure before my pregnancy but had discontinued my medicine for my daughters health and had gone through it with no concern. That morning my blood pressure had my doctor very worried and he immediately sent me to labor and delivery for blood work and a sonogram since my daughter felt small. Once down there a sweet nurse took me to a room since everyone else just had me sitting there waiting and she could see how worried I was. She hooked me and the baby up to a monitor and went ahead and took blood. After hooking us up to the monitor she soon realized my daughters heart rate was dropping and she was in distress as well and I was apparently having contractions. My doctor soon came down and told me "I have to get this baby out now or else she won't make it" I freaked out and began crying. Everything I thought I knew went out the window. My hopes for a natural birth, my entire birth plan, my shower, our homecoming, first holidays, everything changed in that instant, I was prepped for my emergency c-section and before I knew it my doctor was slicing my body open to save my daughters life. Then it happens. I hear this tiny kitty cat cry and I begin crying more because she was ALIVE! I was so scared that she wouldn't be alive that I wouldn't hear her cry and I did. She was brought to me after being wrapped for a quick kiss then rushed away to the NICU. My fiancé went with her and my doctor started telling me what happened and what was going to happen. He sat down my my head and said there was a small tear in your placenta and a very tight knot in the umbilical cord that was not allowing her to receive nutrients, then the nurse shows me the umbilical cord, and he tells me she's extremely small and if she doesn't meet the weight requirement she will have to be transferred to a different hospital. I go to recovery and hear nothing and don't see my daughter for several hours until my fiancé finally comes to show me pictures and tells me how feisty she is. I can't help but be happy knowing she's going to be leaving me and be in the hospital for a while. He knew she was going to get transported but didn't want to be the one to break my heart so he waited for a nurse to tell me. I finally get moved to a room and wait several hours until a transport team wheels my daughter into my room in this huge incubator to discuss the details if her transport. I heard them but only to an extent. I could not stop crying and staring at this tiny beautiful baby. They finish giving me details and it feels like the moment last so briefly because they take my daughter away and I don't get to see her aside from pictures until 5 days later when I am released. She was breathing on her own but was put on oxygen for 3 days to ensure she would maintain it. After 65 long days in the NICU my princess finally came home on September 20th 3 days before her due date. She is now a happy healthy 4 month old and at home thriving. It's amazing how far she's come.

Audrey Rayne's first pic
Audrey Rayne's first night in a crib


Audrey Rayne going home!
Look at that little cutie!

Preemie Power!
Awww!

Friday, November 22, 2013

Fly on the Wall November

This month's edition of Fly on the Wall.
Grab a beverage, and take a peek into my life. Here are 30 second snippets of our everyday adventures. Enjoy and then go visit the other lovies' links at the bottom. No comparing, you can think I am a big ball of crazy but you don't have to come back with proof...

Someone started solids...

The pirate lost a tooth...

I got a makeover...
Yes I had no real make up or shower, get over it...
If you had any question on who did it, look toward that little photobomber. Well... At least he didn't leave his sister out (I guess)
He lipsticked her up real nice...

Someone caught the crabs...
 Here is how she took it when I showed her what she looked like throwing a fit...

This kid learned to tie his shoes.


Clearly I NEEDED that second pot...


This kid had her first dance, that her dad chaperoned, and I am STILL laughing...

my little hob-a-long

Little Cam ditty's costume. All the kids were Hulk Hogan (in 1986), but for 50 cents we will call that vintage chic...


Hulk up there was a little perturbed that I was working at the computer. He told me he was going to write a letter for me telling me how angry he was. 
He is right, those are some angry letters...

After a run in with a boy and the prom queen, aka hob-a-long, I tracked down his mom on Facebook. I tried to get her to go along with my elaborate scheme of making the kids think they were related, she declined and took all the fun out of parenting.

Hob-a-long had a run in with another girl at school which resulted in me chatting with the principal. I am pretty sure you can file "You handled this situation like a wet fart in white pants. You can tell everyone that you sat in chocolate, but we all know you crapped your pants." under what not to say to a high school principal. 

3, the baseball boy, finally had his EEG after his episodes starting in April and an ER visit after a seizure that we were just blown off for. Thanks a lot MoBap..It was a sleep deprived EEG, which meant I had to keep him up. The kid and I don't see eye to eye, and staying up was not the Yogi- Boo Boo experience I imagined. But we made it through and he fell asleep... Uptop- parenting high-five. During the test. a neurologist pulled me out to reschedule his appointment, which seemed odd, but I figured it was to get us out of their books and on our way because the kid didn't look like he was having any seizures. But then they called back and moved it closer again. I started to wonder and made an appointment with Dr. Google, BAD IDEA, he's quite the quack.  We saw the Nurse Practioner and got a diagnosis and some pills and we should be good. Just a form of epilepsy that we will outgrow. It has benign in the same so I am pretty sure its safe...(ish)

Hulk and I had a discussion about poop and it went a little like:
Him: It smells like shit in here. S-H-I-T. Real live shit. Who does that? How does that happen. Shit.
Me: while he is saying that, I am reminding him of all the appropriate ways to say shit.. poop, turds, pellets, leftovers, crap...
The kid gave me a look and said "It's shit, there IS a difference."
I guess he is right... Sometimes you walk in and say this smells like crap, and sometimes crap just won't cut it...

Little Carter rolled once. She seems to be an over-achiever still, as she took her whole bouncy seat with her. She wasn't sad or scared. She was mad.She didn't cry, she yelled. Yes, I know what I am in for...

I sent the hubs an email subject line... A little summin summin for you... It had a picture of a clogged toilet ready for him to fix when he got home... dirty pics do keep him wondering (why he married me)...

That same man decided that we would have Thanksgiving at our house this year. The mother-in-law did the most horrific thing known to man... she told me what it entails to prep a turkey. And gasp, that people actually eat that ..I am going to let her do that part, I know- that must be why I am her favorite...and that in culinary school it was highly frowned upon when I went at a chicken with a pair of oven mitts and kitchen tongs- because that is the only way I can get down and dirty with poutlry, I am pretty sure she appreciates that too.

Cam ditty told someone at the gas station that they could come to his house, a complete stranger- and people wonder why I don't teach him his address. But not to come in the morning. Or late at night. Or in the daytime, because his mom doesn't really like people...

That is about it... You can probably start sobering up and switch to coffee now and hit up these ladies..

 My girls : Baking In A Tornado     Sadder but Wiser   and  Meno Mama 
The always funny Just a Little Nutty  
The amazingly crafty  Stacy Sews and Schools      
 A girl after my own heart, because who doesn't love cute kids AND a tidy closet Moore Organized Mayhem    The great The Momisodes   Spatulas on Parade   and  The Rowdy Baker

And two peeps I am really excited to read for the first time: Mom's don't say that and Juicebox Confession and last but not least one of my faves who will be stopping by on Monday to hang on the blog

Enjoy!




















Friday, October 18, 2013

October Fly on the Wall

This month's version of Karen's genius Fly on the Wall Series. I call it a series because like a reality tv series, you get to see little bits and pieces of our everyday lives.

Grab your beverage of choice and "watch" my bad reality tv and check out the others, chances are you will file them under one of your guilty pleasures...


Me- the chubby Amy Duncan
1-teen girl
2-tween girl
3-9 year old boy
4-6 year old boy HFM
5-5 year old boy
Carter- sweet little baby girl

If you notice they others don't have cute little descriptions, because at the writing of this they may or may not be on my shit list OR I may or may not have forgotten about this until the last minute, its my job to keep you guessing....

We took the kids to the pumpkin patch, 3 was acting like a total shart. I told him to sit on the ground in time out, he refused so I took him to the car to leave along with 2 and Carter. On our way out he started saying "please don't hit me" and looking around and telling people "she's gonna kill me". Granted this kid has had less than 5 spankings in his whole 9 3/4 years of existance and all of them have circled some life threatening event, such as running into the street as a car was coming, running off at the Cardinal's stadium and trying to hail a cab in the city. Anyway, I looked at him straight in the eye and said "you are so lucky I don't believe in child abuse", a dad that was watching gave me a high five as I passed and said he would have lost it already. I have never been so embarassed in my life, and we all know how ridiculous my kids can be and they prefer an audience...

At 2's school event, she was getting a little mouthy. I told her to get her shit together or I would shake my fat in front of ALL her friends. She STFU really fast....

4, I would like to refer to him as the "hot effing mess" of the family, called me from school in tears because he dropped his library book somewhere. I figured he forgot it like all of the finished homework he doesn't pack. I went looking, in my pajamas, while all the other kids were walking to school and sure enough the HFM of the family had dropped his book, the paper that goes with the book, the drink from his lunch box, and TWO jackets in a trail to the school parking lot. We live exactly 47 seconds walking distance from our front door to the schools front door...HFM uses my sanity as his personal target practice...

While 5 and I were watching some people singing on the news he looks up at the tv and says "excuse me while I get my earplugs".... a kid after my own heart, not that I am picking favorites or anything.....

I took a diaper sewing class, which was a story in itself, but somehow it came into the conversation that the teacher carries a gun. I am pretty anti gun, but being the intelligent person I am chose to go with a sarcastic remark than WTF you have a gun in your pocket, it went a little like this... "It's a good thing you have that gun, what if someone took this place hostage. They would never know you were back here. You could sneak out front like a ninja because nobody thinks a grandma at a fabric store has a gun." Being myself, cmpletely dry and holding a straight face, she thought I was dead serious and said " I never thought of that, you're right." I am still shaking my head...

Since the last time you stopped by, number 1 turned 15, which means that she is elligible to get her learner's permit. We can't find her birth certificate so she didn't go and then she injured her knee so three more weeks until she starts begging. The thought of her behind the wheel gives me nervous diarrhea...

Carter made it through her first cold without any major problems, the kid gets pretty pissed when her nose is stuffy and she yells and hits at it. We will have to work on that.

I have oficially raised a spoiled baby...She was fussing in her seat, I got the baby wrap out and she started to giggle. It is apparent who is in charge of this whole operation....

5 and I were watching one of his shows and I pointed out that the character had a baby sister just like him. Here is the response I got : "This is a tv show mom, it's not real. Those are characters. Those are actors. They pretend to be those people". Uhhh. I asked like Santa? "No. Mom.  He is real".... Burn...

On the next episode you will see the shitstorm of when number 1 found out her dad was one of the chaperones at her first high school dance, see ya next time :)

On that note, I will leave you folks with the rest of your guilty pleasure...

Karen   Meg   Shelly   Stacy   Sarah   Marcia   Christine  Starr   Dawn   The next Blogger Idol  ShayTrashy and Last but not Least   Dates2Diapers

Take a look around at these ladies, get to know their families and set your DVR and grab that Pino and Milano cookies and enjoy....


Oh and GO CARDS!!!







Thursday, October 17, 2013

Stop the Stupid: Bitching about the Cards

Now that the St. Louis Cardinals are coming closer to another shot at winning the World Series people all over the nation are speaking out about the Cardinals and St. Louis in general. While I don't hate or love St. Louis, it is my home so I am breaking out a Stop the Stupid for this.

Let's get this straight. I love the Cards. My family loves the Cards. I can count on one hand the number of Card games we miss every summer. I have 4 kids in baseball or softball, I have one in volleyball and an infant. We plan events and games around Cardinal's baseball. I delivered a baby 9 days before a game that I was supposed to take my tween girl to, and you bet your butt I made it, even after being on hospital bed rest for almost 6 weeks. Out of breath and exhausted emotionally and physically, I squeezed my swollen sausaged hind end into a pair of jeans and a Cardinals tee and walked half of a mile from the car to the seats.

I love the Cards.

Everyone says that we (Card's fans) brag that we are the best fans in baseball. Maybe we are, maybe we aren't. But let's look into this a little further...

We as people feel that what we have is best. And it is for us. For example, when you crap you can stand the smell. If your friend in the neighboring stall took a deuce  of the same odor level you may start dry heaving and have a seizure on the bathroom floor. It is not any different than the horrendous stank that came from your nethers, but it is yours so you can stand it. Don't get me wrong, sometimes there is a What  did I eat moment, but overall you think your stink is better than Diarrhea Dan's next door. It's just natural.

Now that you understand this, let me help you remove that wicked stick from your butt because clearly someone shoved it up there....Or if you are feeling really kind, rescind your posts.

Apparently people also hate the city itself. I have read so many articles on how fantastic the city of St. Louis is, I am not head over heels but at the same time I am not vigilante hateful about it. I love parts and then there are others that, well....are the ugly cousin. But just like family you take the good with the bad because its yours.

St. Louis and the Cardinals are like my family. The Cards are like your cool cousin, the one that left the liquor cabinet unlocked that week you house sat when you were 17. So before you judge the city solely on the ugly cousin, remember that your cousin Barry may have shown up to the family picture with his gums flapping because he dropped his teeth in the toilet before he left that morning. That cousin Meg dropped 250 pounds and you may have hit on her or that Grandpa is reliving the days of Nam and has taken cover under a grocery cart more than once.

I would rather stand behind the cool uncle than the recently divorced aunt who has enough silicone in her body to seal the bathtub and wears stilettos to the pool.

In case you aren't sure, wearing stilettos to the pool is just plain stupid.

If nothing I have said has caused a change of heart, just remember that the majority of America's most embarrassing moments AKA horrible reality TV did not originate in St. Louis or Missouri. Maybe you should come to the STL and lets have some drinks on my patio and watch a game with me, you bring the drinks and a background check, I bet you will change your mind about the Cards...

 Oh and Albert, this Cards fan does not hate you for leaving us... If I had a job offer like that I wouldn't even pack, I would say "peace out girl scouts" and buy all new stuff....Thanks for all you did in the Lou.


Wednesday, September 25, 2013

When the hubs away....

The hubby is out of town for a few days. I feel like I should paint something. Maybe remodel a little bit. Or learn how to use a saw. Actually I know how to use a saw, I just suck at it and when I use it by myself things turn out wellll, crooked.

Since I am too lazy to actually go to the store to get materials and my daughter has yet to take her permit test, whch the thought of gives me hives, hotflashes, and diarrhea, so I don't have a ride to the ER, I guess I will set up shop somewhere else..

Speaking of hot flashes AND ER visits, Meno Momma has let me come over and visit. She has hot flashes and stitches. Come join the partay and for heavens sake take some damn flowers or a get well card :)

http://www.menopausalmom.com/2013/09/wacky-wednesday-writers-guest-post-by_25.html

If I actually do build something you probably won't hear about it. I will be too busy hanging my head in shame and trying to cover the hack job with a pillow or a throw, cause I'm clever like that!

Friday, September 20, 2013

Fly on the wall... September

Fly on the wall....September edition

Everyday is a party at my house but today Karen organized it and it starts right here...

As a reminder...
Me:  They call me the real life Amy Duncan with a whistle...
1: teen girl, no other explanation necessary
2: tween girl, bookworm and practices her damn violin way too much
3: boy of 9 who trashes an expensive pair of shoes in less than 3 months...oh and he plays baseball ALL THE TIME
4: the male mini-me with less of a filter...
5: 4 year old, raspy voiced little man who has a Sean Connery accent and jumps and flips on the couch ALL DAY.
baby: girl named Carter. She is awesome....


If you were a fly on the wall you would have seen:

*Me get all giddy and excited when Carter hit the 10 pound mark, doubling her weight in just 4 months...(she was 10 weeks premature so this is a big deal)

This is Miss Carter "Cupcake"
*Tell the teen girl to stay away from boys because they carry "the clap". The look on her face at the explanation makes me thing her virginity will stay intact for at least the next 5 years, then I will dig up pictures....

*You would have seen my lose my voice and damn near my mind because of a weekend that had 4 softball games, 5 volleyball games (tournament), three baseball games and two practices....

*5: it feels like there is a booger on my arm.

Me: That's a scab.

The look on his face told me that he believed I was feeding him a line of BS

*You know it's going to be a long day when you start your menu planning and head straight to the alcohol section of circular.... It's going to be a really long day when menu plan at breakfast....

*I made a declaration... You may piss in the yard, but, I charge a dollar for every ammonia based watering... Took them a while to figure out what that meant. At least I got a soda, candy bar and my yard is no longer used as the hillbilly urinal....

*4 was goofing around sagging his pants, one of the kids pulled up his shirt showing poop all over his butt/back. Upon further investigation it was revealed that he had crapped in the yard. I went to find it so I could clean it up. I found the mother-load... There were 6 piles. SIX. I'm pretty sure half of Missouri heard me yell "there are 4 mother effing toilets in this house but you shit in the yard. Six times. Did you even wipe, you have got to me effing kidding me." Something to do with bodily secretions where they don't belong raises my blood pressure and the decibel of my voice...

*The baby blew out her diaper so I had to lay out the newspaper to change her. 5 looked at me like I had lost it... I took her over to the sink to finish the clean up and he asked why. I told him because that crap is spreading faster than germs on the community pencil in a kindergarten classroom. He just hung his head and walked away. Apparently you can even embarrass a 4 year old without an audience... I have reached new heights in motherhood folks!

*Kids were playing on the computer trying to spell out club penguin. They are 4 years old and aren't well versed in correct spelling. They got the club right. The penguin, not so much... I dived onto the desk saving their eyes from a lifetime of scarring, because the google recommendations aren't pretty when you forget the g and the u...

*I was outside w 5. I saw a cardinal bird and asked him if he thought it was. He said " is it red with an orange pecker"... I could breathe well enough to answer.

*I was at the computer, I felt something go down the back of my pants...
I dug in to see what 5 put in there.
Sunflower seeds.
That were spit soaked.
Be jealous of my awesome life...

Here's the rest of the party....
Baking in a Tornado     Just A Little Nutty   Follow Me Home...   Stacy Sews and Schools   The Sadder but Wiser Girl   Menopausal Mother   Moore Organized Mayhem   The Insomniac's Dream   The Momisodes
Spatulas on Parade   Searching for Sanity   The Rowdy Baker   Writer B is me

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Twerk You....

Twerk this. Twerk that. Twerk you.

 I am sure you have heard of it. Seems like everyone is doing it. Hannah Montana is doing it. Even your college professor can probably manage to make it happen. It needs to stop.

 Twerking is stupid.

 If everyone realized that a mom of 6, who has been 29 more than once, can pull it off with a bottle-ish glass of wine. In her drinking jammies, to a song entitled "Gas Pedal"...Don't ask.

 I am about as lame as they come, and I can see twerking is stupid.

Case in point...
I don't brush my hair.
I use the inside of my shirt collar to brush my teeth more often than I want to admit.
I believe that you can dress up yoga pants with a pair of rhinestone flip flops.
I wear granny panties two sizes too big, because my husband thought I looked *about the same size* as the model on the package.
I got rid of the trampoline because I peed my pants trying to climb on.
I tuck my baby belly leftovers in my pants before I stand up. Sometimes I announce it.

I have anti-cool written ALL OVER me. If I can do it, you shouldn't...

When I see someone twerking to me it looks like..
.
Someone with postpartum hemorrhoids trying to poop. Again, don't ask.
Like you are on a mission to deactivate the dingle berry.
Possibly trying to air out your raging herpes.
Or your tampon string broke off again and your religious preference doesn't allow you to go dig for it.

Maybe I shouldn't be so judgey.

I mean there is a time and a place for it.

Like after eating that questionable chicken, but BEFORE running like hell pretending that smell didn't come from your nethers.

Stop now. Just say no. Go ice your under-butt because you are going to have one heckofa bruise in the morning.

Tuesday, September 17, 2013

Bloglovin

We have a little Bloglovin folks....If you are interested feel free to follow me here..
<a href="http://www.bloglovin.com/blog/5003661/?claim=nvk3ffj4wrh">Follow my blog with Bloglovin</a>

Thursday, September 5, 2013

A girl before her time...the birth

I have sat down to write this story so many times, and I have many drafts and notes it is ridiculous.
This is the hardest thing I have ever had to write because every time I think about it, I still feel it. That sick in the pit of my stomach doesn't leave. I can look over at my sweet little lady and see that she is perfectly fine, but I still feel it...

A girl before her time....

Not just a girl, my girl. Here is her story...

At 25 weeks, I had an abruption...Everything was good until it wasn't... At that point nobody was sure what the bleeding was from, within the week I had several more bleeds and had been admitted for the duration of my pregnancy. The hardest thing as a mother is to be away from your children. I missed my kiddos like crazy. I wanted nothing more than to be able to make this whole nightmare go away, I knew that it wouldn't, but I wished everyday....

At 28 weeks, they found out I had mild pre-eclampsia and gestational diabetes too. My vision became blurred and I couldn't see well enough to even watch tv. Somehow I still had this dumb faith that everything would be ok.

Two days before I hit the 30 week mark, a picc line was inserted. I didn't have to get a new IV every three days and not a second IV every time I had an abruption. It was a bittersweet time, I was glad that I was making it to the end but every time I saw my kids walk out the door I felt like I was getting kicked in the gut with a concrete boot. I cried everyday. I am the one who holds it together for everyone, and I just couldn't...

At 30 weeks, I woke up excited that I had made it to this big crucial point only to find that my water had broken. My heart sank. I looked at the big wet spot on the bed and felt so disappointed in myself. I had just felt that all that time away from my kids was for nothing. But at the same time, I had this overwhelming feeling like everything was going to be ok. I don't know what it was, but I didn't feel alone. I felt like we could do this...The docs gave me antibiotics to prevent infection and told me we would hold out as long as possible. I lasted 3 days on antibiotics.

3 days after my water broke I got sick. Real sick. I remember feeling hot and then cold. Like I had the flu and then falling asleep while Rachael Ray was on, it comes on at 10am. The next thing I know, I am looking up at a doctor from bed and she is telling me it is time to deliver, that was at 4pm. I remember being kind of confused and in extreme pain. The pain from moving off the hospital bed to the delivery bed was so excruciating that I cried. Full out tears, I remember the look on the nurse's face. It was a half pity half hopeful. I couldn't imagine knowing how bad the outcome of a situation could be and still smile and try to give someone hope that it will be ok. I don't think the gravity of the situation had hit me yet.

They gave me better antibiotics and pitocin, lots of pitocin at 5pm. I finally started to feel better sometime into the night, and then I looked around. I saw all the iv bags hung. The warming table with all the equipment ready, the nurses checking and re-checking that the oxygen was working. Shit had just gotten real. There was absolutely no turning back. This was going to happen. I was terrified and oddly calm. My contractions were 1-2 minutes apart and after 10 hours I was tired, not feeling 100% and the not knowing  how things were going to turn out, I just couldn't take it. I opted for an epidural. 14 hours in, I was at 2cm and only my left side was numb. I wanted so badly to push that button for more medicine but I was scared it was bad for the baby.

About 17 hours in, people started coming up to visit. I was only at 3. It was nice to see two of my kiddos, it had been a few days. I loved seeing them. They looked to me to know if everything was going to be alright. I tried my hardest to hide my fear but I couldn't and that killed me. I felt horrible that I couldn't promise them that their sister would be ok, or that she would come home soon, or that she would live. I hated that I couldn't make those promises...

20 hours in I was at 4, everyone was getting hungry so they went to lunch. My mom went down to the bathroom and my friend stayed. Less than 15 minutes after being checked all the doctors ran in and my friend ran out to catch someone to come in with me. Literally 5 obstetricians and 4 or 5 nurses for me. There were several Pediatricians and NICU Nurses that were in the room, all of a sudden and they told me it was time. The baby's heart rate was dropping and it had to happen now. I remember my favorite doc, who came and checked on me first thing every morning before rounds, told me it was time to go. Her attending told me it had to be done in one push. I looked around and saw I had nobody and I looked at him (the attending) and he shook his head no, telling me we didn't have time to wait. By the look on his face I knew.

It was just me and her against the world.

They hooked the oxygen to my face and I took a deep breath, blew out my fears and held back my tears and I pushed with everything I had. It was one and done. I sat and listened.



Nothing.




I looked over to see this.









I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. People were asking questions and doing all sorts of things and it was a blur. I could see or hear nothing. Tubes were going in and out and monitors were going off.

And then it happened.

The smallest, muffled little cat meow.

I have seen first steps, first words, first days of kindergarten, homeruns, 5th graders graduate, awards and metals but nothing and I mean nothing makes you more proud as a parent as to hear your tiny, precious, too soon miracle cry.
 I cut the cord and then she was stable enough for this




I looked at her, she looked so tired and small and weak but she was alive and breathing and she looked right back.  I told her


"You are no princess. You are fierce and I am going to hold your hand while you take over the world one breath at a time." 


  We had been through so much together as it was I gave her my name..

                          Carter Ashley
                           3lb 5oz
                           16 inches







The first time the kids got to meet their sister.







I want to thank all my friends and family for your support. I can never thank you enough for the kind words, meals, childcare, and house cleaning you have blessed my family with. Thank You.

Friday, August 23, 2013

This month's edition of fly on the wall....

Karen's brainchild. My family. Grab an adult beverage, you may need it...

Who we are:

1- girl almost 15, thinks she rules the world

2- girl 11, she is a bookworm and loves kids

3- boy of 10, obsessed with baseball and aggravating the masses

4- boy of 6, he has colorful vocab and he has a major part in all the shenanagans in the household

5- he is my cute, funny raspy voiced 4 year old with a Sean Connery accent

Baby Carter- a sweet little girl with farts that can make a grown man cry.

* 5: I'm a real man now, I have grown man breath...
Me: you are aware real men do the dishes, right...
5: oh, I forgot. I'm a little boy. A really little boy. I just counted wrong.

* I thought I had a genius plan, I told #1, that she could have a boyfriend only IF he was a) foreign AND b) played baseball. Enter the International games at the ballfields 2/3 of my kids play at. It took #3, who went over to this Aussie boy to say my sister is cute come meet her but, she met a boy who fit the criteria that I thought was unreachable. That's ok his wiener is 9K miles away. Good try, mate...

* #4 was shoveling his food into his trap and subsequently choked. I had to do the heimlich on him. The food popped out he turned around and looked me straight in the face and said you almost killed me. I wanted to finish that off with a swift kick in the butt but I pulled up my big girl panties and told him "you act like crap, you clean crap", and handed him a rag. I can't tell that kid enough how lucky he is I don't believe in child abuse....

The baby, well, she's cute but her backside isn't. We will call her farts "special". Well, sometimes when she has a special, it smells so bad that she cries. Not a wimper, or a growl, a full out wail. My husband got the receiving end of one while she was naked about to go into the bath and he said "it makes my eyes water". So yes, folks, a baby's fart can make a grown man cry...

While waiting in the HS parking lot to pick up 1 from volleyball practice we overheard a convo between two girls. They were saying soandso must be in trouble because they were running laps... 4 yells as loud as he can "I pity the fool, I pity the fool". The girl got into her car so fast she nearly smashed her legs. He scared the crap out of her. She looked at me and I acted like nothing happened, and she started looking around. Then she was really scared...It was HIL.Arious!

5 and Grandma brought home donuts... He informed me he had brought home a long johnson for me...

I fell in love, ridonk love with Maxi skirts. I have sewn a few and wear them all the time. We walked to VB practice to pick her up and she stayed far back. I asked her why. Apparently one of those judgemental  mean girls was making fun of me for looking like a Duggar- which I don't, but I made sure to walk past that snooty little b and ask where her shorts were...

Here are the other contenders, go have a look-see and tell Karen she is a doll for putting this together once again.

Baking In a Tornado   Just a Little Nutty   Shellybean  Stacy Sews and Schools   Sadder But Wiser

Meno Momma   Moore Orgainzed Mayhem   Sleepy Bard   The Momisodes    Spatulas on Parade

Rowdy Baker    Dates 2 Diapers   Trashy Blog   Barbara &1923

Squee I am so excited, I love these gals and I can't wait to read a few newbies :)

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Sorry kid, your mom doesn't play well with others: The all about me letter my kids teacher should rec...

In the spirit of the first day of school, I am reposting this. It is the About Me letter that my sons's teacher should receive...


Sorry kid, your mom doesn't play well with others: The all about me letter my kids teacher should rec...: The worst thing about back to school besides the early mornings, homework and all that stupid paperwork is the "about me" assignme...

Friday, July 26, 2013

Fly on the wall...

If you were a fly on the wall in my house, you would see that we are just a normal family with a few extra kids and about 10 decibels louder than the house next door. We laugh a lot, we have quite a colorful vocabulary and we have a whole lotta laundry...

The boys left the back door open and were playing outside of the yard so I locked them inside and went out to rub it in... They started pressing their butts up against the window.

5- the cute raspy voice 4 year old came downstairs to inform me that he was "living the single life", I just gave him a congratulatory head nod...

I told 5 to go out to the garage and find a carseat... He started crying and told me he was too little to dodge bird-pellets. I reassured him that the bird had bad aim.... oh btw a bird lives in our garage, the jerk is late on rent....

Baby girl scratched herself in the face and looked at me like Mom, how could you?!?

Teen girl put mitts on the baby and she said "that was a look. A look like you just saw your grandpa's butt after walking in on him in the shower"...I'm filing that under things I just don't want to know about...

The 6yo boy was telling a story about who knows what and the 4yo boy looks at him and says matter of factly you're making up stories... And he probaly was

The 9yo boy was playing in a wood bat tourney against a ten year old team. G threw 4 people out in 14 pitches. Yea, I said 4 people, someone got on because of the third dropped strike rule...I woke up the next day with no voice, and I still hate the third dropped strike rule...if you wanted to know

I went to take a shower and realized that we didn't have clean towels, so I saw one hanging up. I looked over every square inch and waved it in front of my face to see if it smelled like buttcrack before I dried off...classy right?!? Shut up, you have done it too... Ok, you may have been camping... whatever folks, let's just move on...

There was a "sighting" of a person in the house. 4 heard it behind him. 2 "saw" it, with a decent description. After checking the house and seeing there was a few odd things out of place but nobody that I actually saw, I loaded the kids in the car and walked upstairs with a big knife where he was "seen" and said.. You have 15 minutes to get what you want and get out, or you will be cut... Upon talking to my friend she told the kids about a house blessing.  The kids were mad we didn't go to church and I was contemplating a gun, not that I would be willing to use it buuut everyone looks like they will have your head with a gun. I told them over and over we couldn't get our house blessed because I have yet to find a church that I like. (I want something specific and I will not settle) So I did it. I took the plunge... You are now reading the rhetoric of "Minister Mom" and there has not been a sighting since...

If you were a fly on my wall you would have seen me sleep 2.5 hours every day because some little stink thinks the skies lie when it is dark, you may have quietly noted that this broad drinks entirely too much caffeine OR you may be like...we need to be neighbors, in which, the house next door is for sale...

Thank You Karen for pulling this together. You, my friend, are awesome...
These are the other peeps opening their windows for you to sneak in. Click away folks..

Baking in a Tornado   Just a little nutty   Follow Me Home  Stacy Sews and Schools  The Sadder but Wiser Girl  Meno Mamma   Moore Organized Mayhem  The Insomniac's Dream The Momisodes  Spatulas on Parade  The Rowdy Baker

Some of these gals are my faves... I may send them pics and confessions via twitter, pour my heart out to them via emal or stalk them through my private Facebook account, either way these folks are amazing, go read, I'm going to be busy planning my Sunday morning living room mass....











Wednesday, July 10, 2013

My submission for mother of the year...

I rarely lose it with the kids. When I do 130% of the time it's over them not cleaning up after themselves.

Number 3. Oh number 3, he and I butt heads more than any of the kids combined. He is the perfect kid for everyone BUT me. He even kisses his dad's butt. He was told probably 15 times from 10 am on to put his baseball crap in the garage. He told me no at least 12 times. He would do every chore I gave him EXCEPT move that bag. The fight was on, my friends.

Finally at 4pm there was movement on the bag. He moved it from the front room to the laundry room, which is less than 2 steps from the garage. 2 whole steps, because 2 steps will clearly put you over the edge. 2 steps. 2. T to the WO. 2....

I lost it. I yelled. I cursed. I told him since he took his time to put the bag away, I was going to take my sweet  time taking him to his game tonight. I believe there was an I'm just so tired of this and possibly a mention of him living a life of crime and women hating happened. It was ridiculous. Tempers should not have been lost.

The building of the anger from the stupid crap of the day. The feeding the baby slushie, to the pee on the floor. It all came rushing back.

The next moment I stepped on a sandwich. It was really over. I yelled-that is it you guys can sit in your own squalor, I'm taking Carter and staying in a hotel tonight. 3 is crying, 5 is crying, 4 yelled I go with mom...

Then 5 poked me in the back and held up my phone. He answered it, it was a parent from the baseball team, he heard the whole thing. I'm the coach's wife. I made quite the impression. I bet he's not going to call for a play date or private coaching again.

It's just my luck, I lost it AND I had an audience. I'm sure he's already called my husband. Fabulous. Unlesss... He warns the husband and tells him to show up with a bottle of wine to pad my horrible day... Ha yeah we all know that won't happen...

So excuse me while I completely ignore the ridiculous mess, drown my day in a Diet Coke and a king size Caramello bar and try not to do such a craptastic job at this parenting gig again tomorrow....

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Hanging with Coach Daddy

Hi Guys! Today I am over at Coach Daddy's digs. Go take a look see and have some fun. I am chatting about the shit people say to me because of my large family and my responses. I like the shock and awe, its more fun that way...

Here is the link
http://coachdaddyblog.wordpress.com/2013/04/23/guest-postashley/

Dont forget to bring the coffee....

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Coach Daddy in the House...

animals,creatures,mammals,nature,skunks,wildlife
Sniff-sniff. Dude. You smell.
Maybe it's not you. Maybe it's your nasty gym socks. Or your shorts. Or maybe it is you.
I never do this. I never stand here, feet away, at my own locker, and judge. But this is horrid.
athletes,bodybuilders,exercises,fitness,men,resistance springs,sports,web animations,workouts,people
I kind of feel bad for you. You're a handsome dude. Not like in a Brokeback Mountain kind of way. I'm totally straight. But a straight man can appreciate another man, right? You're not my type or anything. You're no Tim Daly. Not that he's my type either.
Why am I having this discussion with myself in the locker room while we're both in our underwear? You've never even spoken to me. You know me, though. I'm the dad who occasionally wears Star Wars boxers and uses a Teletubbies towel. (When you're a dad, you'll understand).
The bottom line is: Something reeks. And I'm past being offended. Now I'm just embarrassed for you.
You have a lot going for you. You seem to lift with your legs, not your back. You're built like a barrel. You wipe off your gym equipment. True, you lift more in one rep than I do in a set, but to each his own. You're friendly. You smile and nod when people walk by. That's good.
athletics,clothes,footwear,laces,running shoes,shoes,sneakers,tennis shoes
But this smell… Is it your shoes?
You appear single. How this must suck for you to be handsome and strong, yet smelly.
I'm not jealous. Not even that you're apparently dressed for work, and your work allows you to wear a Salty Dog T-shirt and khaki shorts. I must wear pants to my job. No matter what. All week.
I should say something to you. Man to man. You're younger than me. Maybe I can be a father figure. Or at least a favorite-uncle figure.
Well, you're packed up to go anyway; and I'd better be, too. Maybe you could tell I was having this conversation with you in my head. You didn't even turn to wave goodbye.
And it still smells in here. Did you leave your nasty socks behind?
I'm the only cat left in here, though. Don't tell me … you stuffed a putrid washcloth in my bag?
I'll find it, you wiley bastard. I'll take it right up to that manager dude who is always bopping his head to music that no one else can hear.
Damn, I can't find it. I've taken everything out except for the new Nikes I wore to my soccer match Saturday, in a torrential downpour. We won, 7-5! My shoes were drenched. I should have set them out to dry. I think they went right into the garage, and back into my bag, and … sniff-sniff.
Don't tell me you stuck your socks in my sweet kicks! I'm so gonna kick your…
Sniff-sniff. Hmm. Nothing in here. Um, just my shoes.
Hmm. I wonder if you have a blog somewhere, too.
If so, and you caught that part about Tim Daly … forget about it.
Eli Pacheco is a reformed gym rat who now can be seen doing girl pushups between holes at the local golf disc course. Don’t call a medic. When he’s not threatening wildlife with flying plastic, he’s defending his gender or a good block of cheese. He also writes the blog Coach Daddy.

I failed, miserably...

I never fail at anything, my kids think I have a parenting fail daily, but they overreact. So when I started failing tests you can be assured I'm not handling it well...

I have kept pretty quiet about what's going on. About 24 hours after I got out of the hospital last time, I had to go back in with another bleed. That one stopped and they told me I wasn't going home pregnant. I cried all day, was devistated and couldn't think of anything worse than being away from the kiddos for the next several weeks.

I was sad I couldn't spend those last few months with 5, his last months being THE baby. I can't pick out my own baby stuff. I don't get to have the kids lay on my belly and laugh at the baby kicking them. I can't prepare a nursery. I can't take the kids outside and have them paint my belly... But I can do my best go have a healthy baby, that's all I can do....

That type of thinking was wrong. I had another big bleed that night that wouldn't stop. They sent the Children's Hospital transport team to pick me up and take me to the adult hospital attached to the children's hospital to potentially deliver. It got really really real. They put in an extra iv to prepare for a transfusion and I had magnesium which screws you up entirely. You essentially feel like crap on fire with a bag over your head. Worst medicine ever. That stopped my contractions and bleeding. I escaped doom!

I hated the idea of being so far away from my kids and that now I can't see them everyday. My first night there were two scuffles in the hallway. I posted to my Facebook page they need Maury on call.

I finally got sent to the antepartum unit. While I was there some strange man walked into my room with a newspaper and went toward the bathroom. I asked if I could help him and he said he was in the wrong room. Really?!? He seriously was going into a random, what he thought was empty, room to take a dump. You have got to be kidding me! Well the stay in Apu didn't last long, one night with a view and then another bleed/abruption. Again with the fire with a bag over your head. Bleeding stopped, all was good, except I had a lingering headache and I couldn't see. My vision was so blurry that I couldn't see past arm length in front of me. I was terrified. It's almost all back, no clue what it was. Neuro came in, and I guess I'm getting a formal photo shoot..

I did have a fun test, an ultrasound. Looks like the feisty one is in fact a fat baby, well a good sized baby. So she will be a cutie! Not a scrawny Ethiopian debutaunt that I will push cheeseburgers on eternally...

So I failed my 24 hour urine, which they made me pee in the jug for two tests. If my sons knew they would be jealous. There is only one rule in my car : Never trust a rogue container. When we drove from Stl to NY the hubs taught the boys to relieve themselves in cups. Unfortunately, the talent has not been abandoned.

I also failed my glucose test, by about a hundred points. So the mud  I drank yesterday was like thick orange soda. Today for my three hour it is like melted jelly beans with a touch of Robitussin.. nasty.

That's the update, I feel like a pin cushion and I am fairly certain I am allergic to my placenta. Every single test I've failed is because of a problem with the placenta. I am no scientist or genius- well I can tell who went on the seat by position of drops, color of drops and the distinct smell of the urine. So I am no moron folk's, but the docs aren't buying the allergic bologna....

Monday, April 15, 2013

Nadoz

I went to my very first blogger event. I was so excited. We went to Nadoz. I had never been there before or heard of the place, that my friends is a big mistake, the food and people are AMAZING.

I had a little bump in the road getting there. My GPS took me down the wrong road. I had a little issue and got stuck. Look away law enforcement. I had to drive through a small field on Brentwood Blvd because I couldn't back out..Shhh don't tell the hubs, but this is what I did to his car... Whoopsies.

When we arrived I met Lindsay from Itz Linz. She is such a cute sweet tiny little thing. You can totally tell she lives what she writes. I met Genevieve from Citymom she is a nice gal and mom with a really sweet mellow voice and really enthusiastic about the city. Her site is about city living and she has fun events posted on her site.

Robyn from Robyn's World kept a big friendly smile on her face and was a lot of fun too. Janice was a nice lady too. Among all the others I met.

Enough about the peeps, let's talk food. I am blunt. I will not under any circumstance tell you something I don't believe. Now that that is out there. That day I had THE BEST DAMN chicken salad sandwich I have ever tasted. I don't know what it was, chicken salad is a take it or leave it kind of thing in my book, but seriously that is not a good thing to start on when you are pregnant. I have tried for weeks to find another one that came close and there is no competition.

Nadoz has a juice bar, I'm not a huge fan of plain juice but this was good, not too sweet and actually tasted like fruit not a syrupy version of a fruit flavored kool-aide. I'm not a health nut so I have no idea why crushing fruit and veggies and putting them in a glass is such a big deal and if I were a better blogger and person I may try my hand at google, but I am not.

They had this quinoa, with corn and veggies that was cold. Not being a coneseur of quinoa I wondered why my oatmeal was cold and had vegetables in it. Being the good sport I am, I gave it a whirl. It was pretty good. I was honestly surprised.

They said to take leftovers, shhh I kind of already had, in my purse all covert and ninja like. So I took more. I brought some lemony seedy muffins home thinking the kids wouldn't touch them. I wish I had taken a picture because my kids loved them so much they had licked, literally, the table and the floor clean. I figured all was good since the food was made all organically the benefit outweighed the risk of the filthy floor. Looking back maybe that was a little questionable, maybe it wasn't- feel free to NOT chime in on that :)

The owners were funny and nice. Not just oh I'm writing about them on my blog and they did just give me a free meal nice. I would be willing to sit on a patio and have a few beers with them kind of awesome. The ninja chef Chris. Wow. He not only can cook but he looks pretty damn yummy too. I'm thinking they need to do a shirtless chef Thursday and have wine and appys for the ladies, just kidding- yeah I really wasn't.

They have a monthly thing where they do dinner and wine pairings for forty or fifty bucks, a few courses and lots of fun. As soon as I shoot this kid out my nethers my ass is there.

I told the hubs about the place, he used to work in the big building next door, he was pissed I didn't take him. He said they had the best Turkey and Cheddar sandwich ever. The man is THE pickiest bastard you will ever meet. I have never seen a grown ass man bitch and moan like a kindergartener being served fish sticks on pizza day over a perfectly fine meal. So if that man will give you a best sandwich ever, you can have full faith that that sandwich will be the best damn sandwich you have ever tasted...

Overall it's a cafe, juice bar and wine bar that everything even the sauces and condiments are handmade with top shelf ingredients. I know I shouldn't have teased ya with top shelf. Now you're thinking about the Grey Goose or something else, I'm not a liquor whore so I really don't know the good stuff. But I guess it's more like Panera is to Aldi as Nadoz is to Whole Foods kind of comparison.

Friday, April 5, 2013

Stop the Stupid: Really, Target?

I am stuck in bed with nothing to do other than count contractions and wait for my walking orders. Over the last few days I have heard continuously about this Manatee Gray taboo garbage.

I am shaking my head wondering why someone would get offended over Manatee Gray. I'm not a big lady but if someone would call a larger lady a Manatee more than likely they are in Kindergarten and your can send them to the principal. I have never associated fat with a manatee, I've heard whale, never manatee.

Target is in the works to make this right. I don't think they should. Grow a pair Targay and stand up for yourself, unless your employee who named it was a complete a-hole and this is change is being taken from a severance package, then carry on. No one likes an asshole. The thing is someone else will get their panties in a wad because Heather Gray sounds like Heifer Gray.

Calm down people either have a donut or a treadmill. Look around half of America is obese and probably another quarter is over weight, that is quite an army you can form against the skinny folk. On top of that most women see their buns, thighs and belly much larger than it is anyway so they feel they are one of you anyway.

Look at it this way the only people who actually care are cardiologists and people who can make a buck off your extra poundage. I'm not saying you should let yourself go and have to use a crane to get you off the crapper. Chances are if you are out at Target buying a dress that doesn't apply to you.

I want to let you in on a secret, most skinny people could give a care less if you are a size 2 or 22. We just ask that society as a whole to wear fitting clothing. It is just as offensive for me to see someone's skinny cheeks hanging out of their pants as it is to see a bigger persons do the same. Actually, I find it funnier to see a skinny person's underwears because it usually involves some sort of cheek floss. I can't trust a lady who will use a dental mechanism to hold her lady bits together. Add rhinestoned decor holding the floss together and I am laughing so hard and trying to hold it together before a game of ring toss breaks out with the fake diamond heart.

Now that you see why I prefer some responsible panties, lets talk about the sisters. I don't care who ya are I don't want to see nip, strap or cup. Keep it clean folks, the world is crawling with children.

Let's put the whole nude legging thing out there too. Leggings are not pants, regardless of color. Leggings are not the new yoga pants. Yoga pants are acceptable year round at nearly every grocery, school and big box store. Leggings are the equivalent to wearing pantyhose without the skirt. They will make the skinniest people look like they have sausaged themselves into a contraption they can only be cut out of. I am not the smallest and I'm not largest but I won't dare wear leggings, not even under a bulky sweater. I have a fear the sweater will unravel and we could have a situation neither of us want in our laps. I will be embarrassed, your retinas may shrivel so we just won't go there.

Short shorts, super skinny jeans, short skirts, they make me cringe. No matter size shape or gender here is my PSA: Cotton is picked for a reason, cover your bleep no matter the season.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

The saga continues...

It happened again. The last time they couldn't find a rhyme or reason to what was going on. This time there is a definitive answer...

I am on day 3 of my hospital stay. Believe it or not Sedimentary and Relax are not exactly part of my lifestyle. I'm going crazy in a hurry and I'm fairly certain this post will go to my old URL and may be lost forever... So if you can read this here are the events that unfolded...

Day 1: I had another bleed so I came into the hospital and later started having contractions, again they couldn't find the source of the bleed but put me on pills to stop contractions. The pills worked for 2 of the 4 hours that they were supposed to. I was scared but I figured it was early labor and pills and bedrest can handle it. Only one night away from the kids, I was upset but we can handle one day.

Day 2: Another bleed and the high risk docs got involved. They wanted to know the source of the bleed and took me off meds to stop contractions and started the steroid shots for the baby. I felt like someone had kicked me in the gut and if I could've taken a breath I would have without a doubt thrown up. The blood test to show baby's blood in mine which takes you one step closer to the placental abruption diagnosis came back negative, apparently its not 100%. The high risk doc did another ultrasound and found the abruption.. I was informed that if I bleed again I will be transferred to the hospital that is attached to The Children's hospital in the city incase I needed to deliver. I was told what a 26 week baby would look like and the types of complications it could have.

I have been afraid to breathe. The bleeding has stopped, for now. Since this is the second time in two weeks even with bedrest there is a chance it can happen again. One doc said maybe, another one said not if but when.

Day 3: I was told if I have no more bleeding then I can go home on restrictions tomorrow after the steroids are in full effect. I want to go home so badly but at the same time I know how fast this can go from manageable to mayhem in minutes.

I am still having constant contractions but stopping them could mask another bleed but at the same time having contractions can cause another abruption. Not knowing that there is another abruption could be life threatening to both the baby and I. So they will do nothing to actually stop labor, which in itself scares the absolute Hell out of me too. Apparently I have an iron cervix because it's not changing for anything.. THANK GOD... Even contractions two minutes apart double peaked isn't softening it to the idea a kid can come out of there.

I have some fun hospital stories and my take on contractions that I will post later. But for now I am just not feeling the funny. It kills me that I have missed #2's first outdoor softball practice, #4's first field trip that I have been looking forward to for the entire kindergarten year. Tonight I have to miss the little boys' karate. 3's soccer game and 1's first volleyball game of the season are more than likely out of the question too. It absolutely kills me to not put them to bed or nag at them to pick up their shit and to flush the toilet.

I am having a hard time keeping it together and not thinking about how bad it can go. I have no intentions on leaving a baby at the hospital and going home so an early delivery isn't something I'm wanting to pencil in. I will feel so much better when the second steroid shot is fully effective tomorrow, but think I am going to fully use my friends and family willing to help after I get home and hire a cleaning lady.

*I would rather spend a thousand dollars I don't have than force a lifetime of hardship upon this baby*

I am so thankful to my friends and family who have without a second thought who have dropped everything or were willing to for me and this baby. It is a great feeling knowing that the kids at home are in good hands.

And the hubs who is knee deep in tax returns,10 days til D-Day needing to work 70 hours a week, but still visits several times a day and brings the kids up to visit, only to work in the middle of the night. He has not bitched, moaned, complained or tried sneaking me out the back. He acts like me being in here for days on end is no big deal and he has it covered. I know is hard on him but I have never had so much respect and appreciation for him in my life. (He doesn't read my shit nor wants me to write about him, but since it's good we will make an exception.Behind his back.shhh)

I am not really a believer in permanent sterilization but after all this worry I'm highly considering it. I really wanted a playmate for this feisty little gal but that may not be in the cards. Maybe before North Korea goes all Gangnum Style on America we should send over a plane and buy up all the babies in their orphanages. I could bunk the kids up and take a couple...