Yeah, so I'm alive

Two kids. Wow, does that screw up a routine. I'm alive. Alexis Joyce is wonderful and will be 4 months old next week. Behold the cuteness-






Yeah, so I'll do better.

Happy freaking birthday

My birthday is tomorrow. I have plans to eat at the Melting Pot with my SIL and invited my mother to go (God knows why.) The first thing out of her mouth was "How late are we going to be there?" She calls today to ask if she can take me to lunch. I remind her my dad is driving up, an hour and a half, to take me to lunch and to look at washers and dryers (for him, his 1970's models finally gave in.) I'm also going to see if I can find something nice to wear to dinner since I've been living in yoga pants and t shirts. Maternity clothes are either expensive or ugly. This is when my mother chooses to have a tantrum. I remind her the deal was that I was going to lunch with Dad and to dinner with her. She says her and her husband need to go mow my grandmothers lawn. Fine. Go mow the damn grass. Never mind that my worthless cousin lives next door and shares the same grass. Lord forbid she have to mow it. Really, I could care less if my mother shows up. I invited her only b/c listening to her bitch about not being invited is somewhat more painful than having flaming toothpicks shoved in my ears. Now she's upset b/c I refuse to change my reservations to an earlier time. I tried to explain that after lunch and shopping that I'd like to come home and shower and get ready before going out to eat. I hate rushing almost as much as I hate being late. Besides, it's my birthday. Then she points out I didn't call her in her birthday last year. I did call. Five times. She never picked up and never called me back. Aside from that she is the mother, I am the child. At some point she stopped caring about that. Every conversation I have with her remindsme how selfish and narcissistic she is. I keep blaming her. Question is, when am I going to learn that I cannot control anyone's actions but my own. I have to find a way to stop caring so much that she doesn't care. I'm having a new baby and raising a very sweet little boy, as well as nurturing a marriage to a wonderful man. I don't need toxic people in my life.

Perfect love

Is when your three year old boy brings you in the most impossibly small purple flower, gives you a kiss, and says "I love you Mommy!" Life is good.

Mixed Religions

was raised Catholic. I was also raised to respect other's views and have, through out my life, formed varying opinions on organized religion. I still go to mass (though we go on Sat nights) and Remi was Christened in a Catholic church.

A few weeks ago MIL took Remi to her church on Wed evening. He's been several times since, and I've always let him go if she asks to take him. I do want him to be exposed to other religions.

Yesterday, for Mother's Day she asked us to go to church with her. I agreed (though DH refused.) It was Mother's Day. The leader (they don't give them titles for some reason) could have spoken about Mary. He could have chosen a topic about a Mother's love, the role of Mother's in raising children. ANY number of topics about Mom's. He chose, instead, to do a sermon about how all of the churches that call themselves non denominational (except of course for their's) is misleading and essentially wrong in all of their beliefs. He referred to the Bible for ONE verse in which James refers to the gathering as The Church and the rest was essentially his opinion. He also spoke about how those who attended churches that proclaimed a certain denomination (mentioning specifically Methodist and Baptist) were "misled" and "misconstruing the word of Christ."

Now, as I said, I don't think any one religion is right or wrong (though I have my issues with some of the more extreme) but I was just appalled at this sermon. I certainly don't want my child going to a church who is telling him his mother is going to h*ll b/c she's Catholic. I don't want to alienate MIL since DH and FIL own a business together and MIL keeps Remi for 2 hours in the morning while I work. I also have very strong feelings on letting him go back to this church. I have no idea how to handle this!

This could be why I'm so screwed up....

nar·cis·sism[nahr-suh-siz-em]
–noun 1. inordinate fascination with oneself; excessive self-love; vanity.
2. Psychoanalysis. erotic gratification derived from admiration of one's own physical or mental attributes, being a normal condition at the infantile level of personality development.

I need to get this out. I may not be able to do it all in one post but I need to deal with this in a fashion that doesn't involve bias. In a way that allows me to form cohesive thoughts and not be burdened by the finality of speech.

My mother is an RN. When I was 11 she took a job she didn't (financially) need to take in a town 2 hours away from my father and I. My dad made enough money without her income to support us. She worked b/c she wanted to. She was gone Monday thru Friday and came home regularly on the weekends for a while. After a few months the weekends home become more sporadic and she would want me to come visit her. At some point she quit that job and returned home.

When I was 14 my mother allowed my 16 year old cousin and I to borrow her car (along with a carton of cigarettes she'd bought us)and drive an hour and a half into the city by ourselves to go to a water park.

Soon after I started my freshman year of high school she convinced my father to extend my curfew to 12:30 and I started hanging out with last years seniors (now college freshmen.)

At 15, the weekend before Christmas, she told me she was leaving my father. And made me promise not to tell him. She finally told him on New Year's Eve, the night before she left.

I spent the summer with her at her new condo. That's when I realized that for 3+ years she'd been cheating on my father with the man she'd hired to be my grandmother's physical therapist after her stroke.

She would leave me home alone with my boyfriend while she went to "work out" with the girls from work. She would come home with hickeys. At some point I remember asking her how long she was going to lie to me.

I decided to spend my Junior year with her since my new school would allow me to take college classes during the day. At this point, with a father working to afford alimony and child support, a mother who spent most of her time with her boyfriend and a credit card of my own (I was never made to work and my car was bought for me, along with insurance) I began to find other ways to get attention. Thankfully I never have been a drinker or done drugs. I just became a slut. My grades didn't suffer and I always made it to school on time so there weren't any "red flags." I wasn't a stupid girl either so I made sure birth control was covered.

My mom met a guy in a bar shortly after my dad filed for divorce. She would leave me alone, with what ever friend, male or female that was there, and spend the night with the new man. I'd spend 3-4 nights a week alone. I always went to my dad's on the weekend. After six months of listening to my mother moan about how stupid she was to leave my dad and how if she had it all to do over again...... she got engaged. In a bar. I was there b/c she's found a way to get me in and had been letting me go out with her. I was 17.

My senior year I moved back in with my dad. My mom moved in with her new husband and his two male roommates. When I would visit, I got to sleep on the couch.

My dad isn't totally in the clear. He should have worked less and stood up to her more. But she was always really good at hiding things from him.

My mother never does anything she doesn't want to. She doesn't think her decisions through and is now married to an alcoholic who doesn't want to sleep with her. She's never ever on time for anything and may or may do what she's promised. I spent 5 years after high school trying to make her love me the way I always thought a mother should. Then I had Remi.

We told her from day one of my pregnancy that as long as she smoked she would not keep my child. See on top of everything I've just told you, my mother is addicted to prescription drugs. Oh now she doesn't think she has a problem. She's had 3 back surgeries and has a "prescription" from a doctor she drives almost 2 hours to see b/c no other medical professional in his or her right mind would give her the meds she has now. Daily (sometimes two or three times) my mother takes morphine, oxy contin, Tylox, Loritab, Soma, Xanax, blood pressure meds, and Percocet. She falls asleep while she's talking. When I stopped taking my Percocet 3 days after my C section, she offered to buy them from me. Oh and on top of all of that she has "fibromyalgia." Yeah, that's a woman I'm going to let keep my child.

After his third birthday this year I told her she could come get him for a few hours the next weekend (my aunt would be with her.) She never showed up. Not even a phone call. At that point whatever inside me was still making excuses for her broke as I watched my 3 year old stand by the door waiting for Gammy.

I didn't talk to her for 2 months. When I finally answered her calls she told me it was time to "let go" of all of "that stuff." She had "paid her dues" and I needed to let it go. That she hadn't done anything wrong. That I just didn't have any respect for her

She doesn't understand why I feel the way I do. She doesn't think anything she did could have hurt me. I realized recently I don't hate her anymore. I'm not angry, or hurt. I'm indifferent. I used to say I loved her b/c she was my mother. At some point in the last few months I realised I felt nothing anymore. I just want her to go away. I used to feel badly for Remi. Then I realized that he has a wonderful, amazing grandmother in my MIL. I can't let my mother hurt him the way she hurt me. I didn't have anyone to protect me but I can protect my son.

My husband doesn't understand. My dad feels horrible about not doing something but hind sight is 20/20. I'm not sure what to do from here. I have no idea how to deal with this. She really and truely doesn't understand what she's done and until she can admit to something I can't have a relationship with her. I feel lost. How do you tell your own mother you don't want to speak to her any more?

Lesser of Two Evils

Thankfully for me I live in a fairly gun friendly state. However once I got my CCL a few years ago I, of course, became noticeably more aware of the No Weapons signs on local business' doors. Now as a rule, if at all possible, I just avoid these stores. However being that I live in a small town occasionally this just isn't feasible. So once I found out that your first offense for carrying a weapon where it is prohibited is a misdemeanor with a $300 fine I decided to basically ignore the posted sign and carry anyway. With the exception of government buildings. I'm rebellious, not stupid.

My friend was appalled at this until I pointed out that the business owners would never know and that if for some reason they DID find out it would be in the unlikely event that I felt pressed to defend a life (mine or someone else's.) So I guess I've just decided that being able to protect my self regardless of some corporation's political views is more important to me than a misdemeanor charge and a few hundred bucks. I think my life, and those of my family, is worth $300 don't you?

Me too

We tried so hard to make things better for our kids that we made them worse. For my grandchildren, I'd like better.


I'd really like for them to know about hand me down clothes and homemade ice cream and leftover meat loaf sandwiches. I really would.



I hope you learn humility by being humiliated, and that you learn honesty by being cheated.


I hope you learn to make your own bed and mow the lawn and wash the car.
And I really hope nobody gives you a brand new car when you are sixteen.



It will be good if at least one time you can see puppies born and your old dog put to sleep.



I hope you get a black eye fighting for something you believe in.



I hope you have to share a bedroom with your younger brother. And it's all right if you have to draw a line down the middle of the room,but when he wants to crawl under the covers with you because he's scared, I hope you let him.



When you want to see a movie and your little sister wants to tag along, I hope you'll let her.

I hope you have to walk uphill to school with your friends and that you live in a town where you can do it safely.
On rainy days when you have to catch a ride, I hope you don't ask your driver to drop you two blocks away so you won't be seen riding with someone as uncool as your Mom.



If you want a slingshot, I hope your Dad teaches you how to make one instead of buying one.

I hope you learn to dig in the dirt and read books.



When you learn to use computers, I hope you also learn to add and subtract in your head.



I hope you get teased by your friends when you have your first crush on a boy/girl, and when you talk back to your mother that you learn what ivory soap tastes like.



May you skin your knee climbing a mountain, burn your hand on a stove and stick your tongue on a frozen flagpole.



I don't care if you try a beer once, but I hope you don't like it.. And if a friend offers you dope or a joint, I hope you realize he is not your friend.



I sure hope you make time to sit on a porch with your Grandma/Grandpa and go fishing with your Uncle.



May you feel sorrow at a funeral and joy during the holidays.



I hope your mother punishes you when you throw a baseball through your neighbor's window and that she hugs you and kisses you at Hannukah/Christmas time when you give her a plaster mold of your hand.


*The above is from an email and is credited to Paul Harvey

Daddy's Rules for Dating

My dad sent this to me in an email. Ahh flashbacks to high school.....

Rule One:
If you pull into my driveway and honk you'd better be delivering a package, because you're sure not picking anything up.

Rule Two:
You do not touch my daughter in front of me. You may glance at her, so long as you do not peer at anything below her neck. If you cannot keep your eyes or hands off of my daughter's body, I will remove them..

Rule Three:
I am aware that it is considered fashionable for boys of your age to wear their trousers so loosely that they appear to be falling off their hips. Please don't take this as an insult, but you and all of your friends are complete idiots. Still, I want to be fair and open minded about this issue, so I propose this compromise: You may come to the door with your underwear showing and your pants ten sizes too big, and I will not object. However, in order to ensure that your clothes do not, in fact come off during the course of your date with my daughter, I will take my electric nail gun and fasten your trousers securely in place to your waist.

Rule Four:
I'm sure you've been told that in today's world, sex without utilizing a 'Barrier method' of some kind can kill you. Let me elaborate, when it comes to sex, I am the barrier, and I will kill you.

Rule Five:
It is usually understood that in order for us to get to know each other, we should talk about sports, politics, and other issues of the day. Please do not do this. The only information I require from you is an indication of when you expect to have my daughter safely back at my house, and the only word I need from you on this subject is: 'early.'

Rule Six:
I have no doubt you are a popular fellow, with many opportunities to date other girls. This is fine with me as long as it is okay with my daughter. Otherwise, once you have gone out with my little girl, you will continue to date no one but her until she is finished with you. If you make her cry, I will make you cry.

Rule Seven:
As you stand in my front hallway, waiting for my daughter to appear, and more than an hour goes by, do not sigh and fidget. If you want to be on time for the movie, you should not be dating. My daughter is putting on her makeup, a process than can take longer than painting the Golden Gate Bridge . Instead of just standing there, why don't you do something useful, like changing the oil in my car?

Rule Eight:
The following places are not appropriate for a date with my daughter: Places where there are beds, sofas, or anything softer than a wooden stool. Places where there is darkness. Places where there is dancing, holding hands, or happiness. Places where the ambient temperature is warm enough to induce my daughter to wear shorts, tank tops, midriff T-shirts, or anything other than overalls, a sweater, and a goose down parka - zipped up to her throat. Movies with a strong romantic or sexual themes are to be avoided; movies which feature chain saws are okay. Hockey games are okay. Old folks homes are better.

Rule Nine:
Do not lie to me. I may appear to be a potbellied, balding, middle-aged, dimwitted has-been. But on issues relating to my daughter, I am the all-knowing, merciless god of your universe. If I ask you where you are going and with whom, you have one chance to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I have a shotgun, a shovel, and five acres behind the house. Do not trifle with me.

Rule Ten:
Be afraid. Be very afraid. It takes very little for me to mistake the sound of your car in the driveway for a chopper coming in over a rice paddy near Hanoi . When my Agent Orange starts acting up, the voices in my head frequently tell me to clean the guns as I wait for you to bring my daughter home. As soon as you pull into the driveway you should exit the car with both hands in plain sight. Speak the perimeter password, announce in a clear voice that you have brought my daughter home safely and early, then return to your car - there is no need for you to come inside. The camouflaged face at the window is mine.

Is there enough room?

See those boys up there? They are my life. I woke up this morning snuggled between my husband and my son and I thought, "Could this get any more perfect?" And then I starting wondering about the decision we've made to have another. Would there be room? Everything is so perfect. Will another baby double that joy? Or create havoc?

I'm an only child. I have no idea what it's like to have a sibling or to raise two children. The relationship between siblings is an enigma to me. I see how close my cousins are and how close Ed's and his brother are but the depth of that relationship elludes me.

I don't want Remi to be an only child. But part of me wonders if I'm ever going to be able to understand. Will I love Number Two as much as I do Remi? Will Remi accept a new baby? Will they be best friends or enemies?

The love I have for my son takes my breath away. There is nothing I wouldn't do to keep him safe and happy. My world would end with out him. I would be a worthless shell of a person. Is it possible that, with another child, that love will double? Or will it some how take away from my sweet boy?

I never imagined that the love of my life would wear safty goggles and a cape. I certainly hope that when I do get pregnant that he'll be as excited as we will be. And that we all learn that there is no capacity limit of love.

Broken filter

My dad has always told me that God forgot to install the filter bewtween my brain and my mouth. My internal filter is beyond repair. You wnat butt pats you've coem to the wrong palce. Which means if you come to me whining for advice I will give it to you, uncensored and unrrated. If you then shoot down Every. Single. Suggestion I make with some lame excuse be prepared. I will tell you that it isn't your husband's fault your marriage is in the shitter. The man TOLD you exactly what he needed and you continued to ignore him. You made excuses about conflicting schedules and kids that get "upset" about going to bed early and about how you don't want to go outside and do things becasue its cooooooooooold. Guess what? We he leaves your whining excuses to find a woman that will LISTEN to him, you will get no sympathy from me. Men are simple. If you've already had sex, make him a damn sandwich. Put the kid to bed early no matter how pissed she gets. Better to have a slighty mad 2 year old than to be a single mother. You have a husband who cares enough to tell you what he needs changed (and has reasonable requests) and didn't just immediatly try to replace your bitchy ass (I wouldn't have blamed him.)

It comes down to one thing- The best gift you can give your child is to love her father. He is not there only to pay bills and make sperm donations. He has needs and feelings and he's TRYING for God's sake. Try with him!!! And stop whinign to me. I ran out of cheese ages ago.

Damn he's handy!

Last year for Christmas my husband bought me a Les Baer custom rifle in a AR-.223 complete with a Leupold scope (6.5-20x56 Long range) This rifle will shoot a sod poodle (read: prairie dog) at 250 yards like it's nothing. You. Can't. Miss.

Recently we've had some issue with diseases wiping out the dogs so I've been spending more time at the range with my baby. And my husband. However I'm a picky bitch when it comes to rifle rests. How handy that, though my husband is wood retarded, he's a genius with steel. (Handy he owns a machine shop huh?) So I commissioned him to build the Ultimate Rifle Rest. And boy did he come through! You can move the rest left or right or up and down with the handy knobs he built. It also has levels mounted on it and the rest portion itself swivels 360 degrees. Below are pics of The Gun and The Rest (as well as a cute pic of my kid in his daddy's boots!) Enjoy-

The Gun-


The Rest-






The Boy-

Things I would do differently

I found out this week that my barely 18 year old, high school senior niece is pregnant. She was going to have college soccer scouts out in the spring to watch her play. But you can't play soccer when you're pregnant. She's a beautiful girl who craves the attention of men and wears too much makeup. She's also smart and talented and I hope that this set back doesn't hinder her future too much. However it got me to thinking. If I could do it over, what would I do differently?

The first thing that comes to mind is my grandmother. On our very first trip to the mall when I was 13 she had a stroke. Several more small strokes as well as a more major one would follow. In the coming years she would lose the use of her left side as well as her ability to communicate. That amazing woman was my world. She raised me for the first 6 years while my mother was having back surgery after back surgery. I would spend every weekend and most of my summer in the tiny town of Sasakawa, OK learning to bake, how to take care of my skin, how to sew,and how to make amazing bread and butter pickles. I also learned to drive a stick shift, a tractor and a four wheeler. She showed me how to garden, how to run a fence line and how to birth a calf. She also taught me that sometime you can be right, or you can be happy. I learned how to take care of a husband and a family. She and my grandfather had never even kissed anyone else. And in her last months, when she was in the hospital more than out of it, I should have been by her side every second I could spare. But I was 17 and when she passed away a month before my high school graduation I realized that too late. I will regret that for the rest of my life.

One of the other more important things in my life was my best friend and my first love. If I could do it over I would realize that the relationship we had, even at 14, was true love. I would have put more effort into our friendship and not worried so much about what everyone else thought. Because my best friend at 12 is still my very best friend now, at 25. He is funny and supportive and would drop everything at 3am to help me or just to talk. I would have ignored my mother when she told me it was just puppy love. When he told me the guy I was dating at 18 was totally wrong for me I would have listened. Because he knows me better than anyone else and that one simple conversation would have saved me from the one and only abusive relationship I've ever been in.

Above all else I would have confronted my parents at 16 when they decided to divorce. I should have cast aside the doubts I had that they wouldn't listen to "just a kid" and pointed out that their marriage was going down the drain because they both have an addiction problem. My dad is what they call a functioning alcoholic. His drinking doesn't affect his job but he smells like peppermint schnapps at 9 am. My mother uses her bad back as an excuse to take Loritab, Tylox, Morphine, Xanax, Soma, and Oxy Contin every day. Twice a day. If I had told them then, then maybe my dad wouldn't have gotten a DUI and maybe my mother wouldn't be falling asleep in the middle of conversations. Because now that I'm older and I'm petrified to leave my child alone with them, I realize that if I had spoken up 10 years ago maybe my son could really know his grandparents. But how do you help someone that doesn't think they have a problem?

Most of the things in my life that I recognize as mistakes have made me who I am today. Most of them I wouldn't change for fear I wouldn't be the person I am today. But sometimes, when I look at my nieces and nephews and I see them afraid to speak up or preoccupied with things that they will only later realize aren't really important I wish I could make them understand. But then I think that sometimes learning things the hard way is the only way to make the lesson stick.

Remi at Halloween

The first few are in our living room. The last few are of him in our neighborhood. How cute is my boy in his dragon costume!

Update and more proof women are nuts

Where does the time go? I feel like I have been going non stop for weeks but I'm not sure what I've been doing. Remi started sleeping in his own bed Saturday night. Well sort of. He make sit about half the night before he comes to our bed. But half a night with out two little feet stuck in my back is good enough for me. Besides it's nice to have that time with my husband back. The funny thing is that Ed is more upset about me moving him that I am. That little boy has my 6'" 250lb husband wrapped so tightly around his little finger I'm not sure he'll ever come loose. It's ridiculously adorable. I've been blessed with a man that is not only a wonderful husband but a great dad.

Now here's a dilemma I have- I can be shallow. And vain. And I'm just terrible at being the bigger person. I do my very best to combat those faults before they become apparent to everyone else. Usually I succeed in reminding myself not to be a bitch before it becomes an issue. I'm struggling with this now. Saturday night Ed and I have a party to attend. He and his friends (almost all of whom he has know since grade school)have decided to forgo his high school sponsored reunion for a personally organized get together for all of their "group." Fine. Whatever. I'm not comfortable at all around a bunch of people drinking since I'm a two drink max kinda gal. Also my husband is 11 years older than I am and so, of course, are all of his friends. A few of them are closer to 15 years my senior. All of his male friends like me. (Warning: shallow rant coming) Of course I'm not shocked. They're 40ish and most of them are divorced or have been married to the same (also 40ish) women for 20 years. I'm a novelty. I'm 5'7", blond, 25 and (as of last week) officially a size 6. Plus I have big boobs. Yeah, they like me. Unfortunately their wives do not. Which is odd since I don't really know any of them. I went to one New year's party 6 years ago and they all decided they didn't like me, and I quote "Because her pants are too tight." *sigh* That just pisses me off. I am a college graduate. I will have a Master's degree in a year. I am a mother. My brains do not fall out of my ass when I wear a short skirt. I will not look like this forever so I dress trendy. I do NOT dress slutty. I also do not tolerate high school bullshit from women who graduated in the same decade I was born. I've tried being nice to these women. I only see them on rare occasions and I don't have a beef with them. I've done my dead level best to be the mature one. Well now, I'm tired, I'm stressed and I'm trying to get knocked up. So I quit.

And on top off all of this one of the women present will be my husband's ex wife. They dated though the last year of high shcool and were married 6 years. They have been divorced 7 years. She still calls him (only when she knows I'm not around) and she told my 19 year old niece who ran into her for the first time last week that she wasn't ever going to get married again because Ed broke her heart and she doesn't want any other man. This woman is 38 years old. I would think she would have either A) gotten over it or B) have the class not to tell her ex husband's niece such things.

So I'm going to go to the party. And I'm going to have fun with all of the guys that I really enjoy and two women who are truly secure enough in themselves to not give two shits what other women look like. But because I can be shallow I'm going in my new size 6 skinny leg jeans, my rockin BCBG sweater and these amazing shoes. I'm going to be ridiculously nice and I'm going to look hot doing it. Kill them with kidness right?

A hunting we will go.....

Got back from deer camp yesterday. We left Friday about 9:30 am and got there about 1 pm after stopping for gas, ice and breakfast. Its a long haul down there but it's so pretty and peaceful.

I'm not really all that big on shooting small furries (or large furries as the case may be) but I do enjoy the yummies that result from other people shooting them. In fact if I could shoot it and skip the gutting/cleaning/storing part I would. Anyway many marshmallows and Cheddar Wurst were consumed and a good time was had by all. We even got to see Ed's oldest brother that we only see about once a year. Oh, and both of my nieces, aged 19 and 13, got their first deers this weekend. Black powder no less! In fact the 19 year old had the biggest rack, an 11 pt, though her Uncle Edward (my husband) had about 15lbs on hers(his was a 9 pt.)

We left about 11 yesterday and after running out of gas (apparently my husband's new truck has a broken gas gauge) we got home about 3. Thank goodness his brother was following us home and could tow us to the nearest gas station (15 miles away!) Now I have a few weeks to prepare for rifle season.

On a different note, finding decent things to cook at camp that will feed a bunch of hungry men is much more difficult then one would imagine. I'm open to suggestions! And yes we have a propane stove in the camper as well as a BBQ. I made chili this weekend but I'd like to do something different the next time we go down. Oh and here are some pics of the trip-


13 year old Lauren and her doe-




My adorable 2 year old terror-



19 year old Lindsay and her 11pt, 95lb buck-


My handsome men hanging out by the fire-



Ed and Remi with the 115lb, 9pt buck-

Hodgepodge

Lord ya'll, this week has kicked my ass. I work with hundreds of men and about a dozen women and all the testoterone in that building just kills me sometimes. Yes, I am a female. Yes, I'm out working your ass. That doesn't make me a suck up, it makes you lazy. Asshole.

Second, I'm starting a new blog. I'll be having my IUD removed tuesday and we'll be on our way to gettin me knocked up. However I more to talk about than my uterus so I'm not going to make this blog about that. Add me to your Bloglines, your favorites, write the address on your forhead, whatever.

Also, I'm throwing my support, for what it's worth, behind Fred Thompson. I'd met 3 of the major candidates prior to meeting Fred and I wasn't nearly as impressed. As it is I now have a Support Fred widget to your left there. Use it would ya? I like my guns and I'd like to keep them with out having to kill anyone.

And finally my last acquisition- a Nightforce scope for my .223. It a 5.5-22x56 and it rocks. So much so my husband took my damn rifle this morning. I'll post pics tomorrow or Monday for those of you that are into that sort of thing.

It's official

We're going to have another baby! I had a Mirena IUD put in in August of '05 and I'm planning to go next month to have it removed. Now rumor has it that it doesn't take long to regain one's fertility after removal but any of you that have personal or medical knowledge are welcome to give me your input. I'm excited and after much discussion (and Hubby's 36th birthday) we decided to go ahead and get started because as we learned the first time only God knows how long it'll take to actually get the bun in the oven. And as hubby pointed out, making the peanut is half the fun. Wish us luck!

At what point....

Does a lack of sleep start to kill brain cells? I love my job. I do. But getting up at 2:45 am to be at work by 4 and then not getting to bed until 9 is killing me. So I took a nap. And now I feel lazy. *sigh* I must keep telling my self that it's OK if the laundry doesn't get done rightthisinstant.

This also happens to be the Week Of Birthdays! Joy. Nanny and (Great) Aunt Pearl were 79 yesterday. Fraternal twins names Addy Muriel and Abby Pearl. Yeah they weren't thrilled either. I went to get nanny's birthday present yesterday and was so focused on seeing he this Saturday that I forgot to call her on her *actual* birthday. How stupid am I?

FIL's 65th birthday is Thursday. He isn't taking it well. In fact he's taking it exactly the opposite of well. He and his wife hate each other and don't understand that being married 37 years but sleeping in different bedrooms for the last 25 so you don't kill each other does NOT constitute a "successful" marriage. I hope to hell we don't have to have a family dinner. Between MIL and LazySIL (My own personal HandoutQueen)and her 4 whiny kids I'll do good not to kill someone.

Sunday is hubby's 36th birthday and also my (Great) Aunt Esther's birthday. Everyone is in town for the yearly family reunion (is that a southern thing? I never hear about anyone else having them) on Saturday so I got the two aunts photo albums and a cards and I got the SuperGrandma a picture frame with a verse from Philippians's on it and a place to record your voice. I'm going to put a pic of her and Remington in it and have him record "I love you Nanny!" I got Ed a card but I'm never sure what to get him for his birthday. He says nothing and the things he does want I certainly can't afford with my paycheck. *sigh* I'm sure I'll think of something.

The only downside to the reunion is that it's scheduled on OU/Texas weekend. Blasphemy!

The first one was easy

Ed and I started trying to get pregnant as soon as we closed on our house. It took several months of trying and fertility treatments to get that way but it (obviously) happened. I had an easy pregnancy and, despite the c section, a pretty easy delivery and recovery. Remington was a pretty easy baby after the fist 6 weeks. He had "colic" which I'm certain is pediatrician speak for "He's crying a lot and we don't know why but we have to tell you something to justify what we're charging you."

Now he'll be 3 in January and is the most amazingly intelligent little boy. Last week, while standing in line to check out, I made him hold my hand because he wouldn't stay with in a comfortable distance from me. He looks at me and says "If you keep making me hold your hand we're going to have serious issues." A few days later he asks if he can use my highlighter. I reminded him that we only draw on paper and he says "We've already had this conversation." This kid has perfect enunciation on top of it which makes it all the more hilarious.


I adore my son and I'd do anything for him. He's just a really cool little man.

I am an only child. It's never bothered me. My husband is the youngest of five, three boys and two girls. He speaks to one of his brothers regularly and they're pretty close. As for his other three siblings, well he doesn't have much use for them.

Lately we've been talking about the possibility of having a second child. I'm afraid that, because I don't know what it's like to have a sibling, that I may choose not to have a second child and be robbing Remi of something really great. But then I look at my husband and his sisters and I think "What if they hate each other?"

The choice to get pregnant the first time was the an easy one. This time I'm struggling. I'm not opposed to another baby but I'm not all gung ho about it either. And that makes me feel guilty. I mean shouldn't I be really excited about it before we start trying?

It will be next summer before any decisions are made. It's not that I'm not ready. Financially and emotionally we're prepared. It just doesn't seem like a pressing matter. I keep thinking that maybe one day I'll just know it's the right time. And I know that having a baby so that Rem has someone to play with is a ridiculous reason. Right?

If we started trying next June, Remi would be at least 4 and maybe 5 by the time I gave birth. Is that a good age difference? Is it too much? Can one of you just tell me what to do so I can stop obsessing?

Well that could have gone better

The husband and I had a Come To Jesus meeting last night. Not real sure what's going to happen at this point. When I have more time tomorrow and more time to process my feelings I'll post more. For now goodnight ya'll