Why not?

Nothing better to do since I'm totally ignoring the chaos in the next room because I would need duct tape. I'm not even kidding.

So I'm taking her lead and posting my inner princess.....


You Are Pocahantas!

Free-spirited and wise. You have a strong passionate spirit that touches and changes all who know you. The wisdom and common sense that you have is really what guides you through life. Even so, you also have a very playful side that loves adventure and excitement.

Which Disney Princess Are You?

Now that you mention it, I do touch a lot of people. Don't go all tattle tale on me and mention this to my husband. Also, I do have some serious wisdom going on. And I'm a free-spirit from way back. So there you have it. I'm channeling some Pocahantas action.

I totally knew I would be her.

See? I'm am wise.

Told ya.

I just dare you....

to make fun of me and the insanity. Furthermore, I dare you to join me and show the internets your silliest moment you can muster. That is, if you have the hairy balls to do so.

Mine was inspired while glimpsing at myself in the mirror after 15 rewinds of the same episode of Barney. I was singing this little number repeatedly and didn't even realize it until I saw the reflection.

Why am I subjecting myself to such ridicule and shame? I don't have any farking idea. All I know is that I laughed myself to tears after watching this. I then thought to myself what a travesty it would be to keep this gem hiding in the closet.

Also I want reassurance from others that I have not lost my mind.



And if you want to know who does my hair just ask me. K?

Sweetness

My middle child has taking a definite liking to her baby sister finally. I'm happy to be present to witness the love bonds that are tying them together. And so begins the love/hate relationship that will forever be Emily and Abby.

She pronounces her name better than any other with a slight toddler twang that is so cute I never tire from hearing it. She is forever on bink patrol making sure A (or herself) is never without their precious. And she gives her the most adorable raspberries in the bathtub. Actually they sound like the worst case of nasty diarrhea farts I've ever heard and if I weren't watching her do it I'd be checking J's pants.

Did I just say diarrhea farts? Ew.

They are officially sharing a room for half the night and E refuses to go to bed without her. The babe has been waking to nurse at 2am. Since I'm both tired and lazy, I've decided that she can sleep by me after that and just nurse whenever she can find the source. Which is a lot because her fat rolls have fat rolls. And those fat rolls have fat rolls. What can I say...the kid likes to eat. And I think my breast milk is more like heavy cream instead of whole milk. J is now taking it in his coffee. The perv.

All kidding aside. This relationship that is forming is the sweetest thing I've ever seen. Of course S loves her sisters but toddler love is different that tween love. Tween love is more like tween tolerance, while toddler love is the deepest, most trusting love of all loves. Watching it develop makes my heart melt like buttah on freshly popped corn.

I feel so privileged to be such a close part of this exhibit. In fact, I'm more like right in the middle of it all. The axis they revolve around. It's pretty darn amazing.

When you can't do it fair and square...

then there's always the old stand-by of stealing the election.

Worked for Georgie....why not John?

I think I'm gonna puke.

If you don't hold it against me...

that I might not have made my bed on this particular day (I really do make it most days, promise), I will share a video of Miss E with you. She's a Wiggles lover that one and dances to some of the songs........so without further ado.....

I give you Emily.....(and a brief cameo appearance from Sadie the psychotic doggie)

Busy little bee.

I like projects and fortunately for us the house we bought has had plenty over the past three years and still more to come! We're lucky that way. Always something to look forward to, something to plan, something to discuss. If there's one thing my sweetums and I like to do, it's discuss the future and all its possibilities.

Two weekends ago we decided it was finally time to rid the house of its last remaining wall paper. Hence Project Laundry Room. I have to admit that after the first weekend of scraping, followed by the week of scraping, washing off glue and patching up all the wall's boo boos we were ready for primer and paint. Not a large room but a lot of bending and reaching. I have to say that my post two babies body tires rather easily. The muscle strength I once boasted in the Army is not what it used to be. But I digress.

The painting went quickly. He primed, I cut it, I painted and he cut in. We bought a cabinet unit to hang above the washer and dryer and bought a larger desk to better accommodate our needs and voila. Project Laundry Room is complete.

It tired my ass out though. All that work in the mornings plus the babies wanting, needing, wanting, SCREAMING kept me on the move constantly. And then the afternoon arrives with its middle finger in my face along with four other kids to drive me insane brighten my day. The house goes from serene toddler and baby life to SIX EFFING KIDS. No further explanation needed.

At least my house doesn't have anymore wall paper.



(And yes, the entire house had wall paper equally as ugly. And green carpets.)

Real quick...

can I just tell you how much I LOVE Whoopi Goldberg on The View?

Love her. I just do.

Huh?

A conversation threw me a while back when I was visiting Maine. It wasn't me starting this conversation to fuel the moral fire. I purposely choose to keep my personal beliefs to myself. It's not that it isn't understood; I am definitely a liberal thinker and am proud of it. Everyone close to me knows where I stand. I just don't want to fight with the people I love so I just shut up.

Which is why I was surprised when the comment was made that my nephews need to be more tolerant of gay people. I agree, but I also understand that most adolescent boys are going to shy away from any sort of acceptance on this issue out of fear more than any other reason. Fear that people might think they're gay, fear that maybe they really are gay even. So I said..."boys will be boys." It's a normal behavior. Would I try to teach my child differently? Of course.

Then the real kicker comes in. And why this question was posed I do not know, because we were all in agreement that they should learn tolerance.

"Do you think gay people should be allowed to adopt a child?"

There were three people sitting around that fire, two said no. The two people who sat there and agreed that tolerance is acceptable. BUT...they draw the line at tolerance.

I get frustrated with this response though it wasn't exactly a big shocker. One, because I find that double standard offensive and ridiculous (typical of their political affiliation though) but mostly because I know that homosexuals are loving, caring and nurturing individuals just like you and I are. (I hate adding a label to their preference as human beings but I don't know how to get around it. Otherwise I would.)

So I begin to explain why I feel differently by saying just that. What's wrong with two people who love each other raising a child? Which is better in your eyes? A heterosexual couple who neglect and abuse their child or a gay couple that can offer that very same child wonderful life? With all the unwanted children in the world you think we should limit the type of couple that gets to love them? I'm sure if given the choice, the child wouldn't mind if they had two mommies or two daddies to read stories at night,to show them how to fix a broken fence or make a delicious meal. But most importantly, have a family.

"Well they are going to impress upon them their sexual deviance and make even more gay people."

OMG, not more GAY PEOPLE!!!!

Did we not just use the word TOLERANCE???????

Do people really think this stuff? Really? Because that is just ignorance at its best. (If you're one of these people....I tolerate you, we all have rights to our own opinions, even if they're wrong different than my own.)

Think about it for a minute, if you will. You go through life with everyone telling you what's "normal". Only what you feel inside and who you really are doesn't fit inside this "All American Ideal". It sometimes will take this person years to admit to themselves what they're feeling to be their true self and even longer to admit to loved ones. Why then, would that person raise a child to believe they need to be one way and fit in their ideal or else. It just doesn't make sense. If any family would be loving and tolerant of their children and embrace who they are REGARDLESS, it would be a family with two parents of the same sex.

A good parent is a good parent is a good parent. No matter what way you spin it, the child is raised with people who love him/her. What makes gay parents love their children any less than we love our own? Nothing. In fact, I would bet that if you were to take a look at a few statistics their homes would fair better than a lot of your typical mom/dad families that we have accustomed ourselves to.

Conservatives have coined this particular phrase....but I think it fits well here and in many other situations as well.

I think they call it....."A Right to Life"

As long as they're not gay, right?

Perspective

Sometimes you have to step back and look at the whole picture. You have to really look at the heart of the matter and slowly inspect each and every vein, artery and vessel connected to that heart. Upon looking at all those pathways and the journey as a whole you begin to think of your goals on a grander scale. Not just what I want for myself right now but what's best for the long haul for all parties involved.

I came to an abrupt conclusion yesterday while driving home from a short trip to my sister in-law's wedding that my train of thought has been narrow minded. And that weddings totally make me want to shag my husband rotten. Jjust sayin'. However, that wasn't necessarily the epiphany. I've long ago learned that weddings git me loins a stirrin' and often look to crash them whenever possible just to get wedding sex. And don't even try to say it doesn't get your engine going. A girl is a girl is a girl. And girls love weddings.

Anyway.

We were having our regular discussion about the up and coming move. I have always said J should apply for whatever jobs that look promising from Pennsylvania to Maine, but what I really meant was to apply for all those jobs but take the job in Maine. Mostly because I know that the right job there would be fine and I wanted to be close to home. I wouldn't ask for him to take any old job with a dead end; I want more for him than that. My request was to settle there if and only if a job with possibility presented itself regardless of other job offers that may arise. Of course there is always the unspoken exception of that one job anyone could ever possibly want, that paid a salary of ohmyfuckinggodineedtogoshopping.

We have discussed the pros of moving to Maine and know that we would be happy there. We have always accepted that salary would be less but the good outweighed the bad. But honestly, by how much? I love Maine. I love the people there and the simplicity of things and the bright stars yet to be covered by the blanket of tainted air but a voice I have shoved aside time and time again was shouting at me loud and clear yesterday.

"Why are you being so CLOSED MINDED???"

Oh because I want my cozy comforter back dammit!! And I want it back NOW!!

Then the big picture came to mind, or at least a clearer, broader picture that I had been ignoring or only taking small peaks of because I was afraid of what it had to offer. It didn't fit my ideal so I pushed it aside and deemed it not for me. But a voice was always whispering and discussions would take place. We would both quickly dismiss it and conclude that Maine was the obvious choice.

Yesterday, the picture had choices. It had a different places in mind. Places with jobs, jobs and more jobs for J to choose from, schools for me to peruse and perhaps a degree would come about. Great schools for my girls to get a quality education. Colleges close by that would potentially keep them near and dear for years to come (isn't that what we all really want in the end?)

And family.

Not the family I long to be near but family that I love and most importantly, family that loves us. Especially my girls. When I reluctantly take the blinders off and let the full picture come into focus I admit to myself that they love me and accept me in all my county glory. Perhaps long ago they secretly hoped for something different but I believe they have grown to love the girl J chose to share his life with. Me. The never overly flashy, not always so well spoken, sometimes even takes a pee in the woods me. And ALL of my flannel too.

So I'm opening a door a little bit wider and welcoming what life is going to offer us. Because deep down I know I don't have a choice, there are doors that will open and doors that will close. It's best I walk through the open doors and stop knocking on the closed ones. I cannot stop our future from happening but I can look at it with open eyes and enjoy what good things are about to come our way.

And if I do happen to end up where our other family resides....at least I'll have a friend there.

Head, shoulders, knees and.....

Toes.....toes.....those sweet, adorable little toes....I could kiss them all, one by one, one hundred million, gazillion times a day. No really, I could.

I made these toes. And now they are three months old and they have been growing like mad.

Do you see that little pinky toe on the right? That's her daddy's toe. All my girls have that toe. I think they might be mad at him someday for that toe. But I'm only guessing.

And what is more precious than tiny wittle baby feet? Nothing really.


Well maybe chubby little baby wearing sunglasses? Maybe. As you can see, I am feeding her well. She loves her mama's milk and eats A LOT of it. I can't believe time is going so fast. My head is above water, I am confident in my everyday activities and each day that goes by, the job gets easier and easier. We're making it work and watching time flash before our eyes.

It's crazy the pace at which time passes as you get older. The days/weeks/months/years feel like moments when we're looking back. I'm always amazed when Christmas rolls around each year at how quickly it came back around. We're approaching September in a few weeks and fall is nipping at our heels as we speak. E will turn two! TWO! I just can't wrap my head around the last two years slipping from my fingertips so quickly.

So I try and count those little baby toes over and over and over. I kiss and kiss and kiss until my lips are tired because soon they'll be stinky toddler toes and before I know it they will be big girl toes and then full sized grown up toes. I'm thinking they won't want me kissing them anymore at that point.

I love this time of year.

And wouldn't you if you just went and picked this out of your yard. FOR FREE!!! It doesn't get anymore organic than that guys. The only things that touch our produce are bugs, compost and water. It's a nice feeling to feed your family so well.



There is lots more out there waiting for me. Tomatoes and beets mostly but if they are on the vine then they aren't collecting fruit flies in my house or going bad. SO.....until the weekend when I can make some home cooked sauce, outside they will stay.

Don't even think about it punk.

The boobs belong to ME! TO MEEEEEEEE!!

I can haz a kiss plz?

I sure do make cute babies.

Ten days.

How do you make due in ten days? How long is long enough to keep you for a year's time?

I was relieved to drive away this morning. Not a tear to be shed. A good night's sleep was at my fingertips and I couldn't wait for the ride to end.

Now I am here and all I have are moments to remember. Faces to etch into my memory. Or pictures to help me relive the sounds and smells and the feel of home.

Sisters reunite and reacquaint. Cousins fumble through forgotten bonds.

A mother is coming to her final days. Another has a new way of living.

Friends make the most of a few hours. New friendships grow ever so slightly.

New communities are emerging. New people with old traditions in a new place. The buggies are a welcome addition to the already down home scenery almost like they have always been there. Or should have been.

I left twelve years ago and have emerged a new woman. Still unsure but continuously growing into her confidence with a clear picture of who she is and where she is going but darn it all if part of her still wants to cleave to the safety net of her youth.

I am sad tonight. I want the familiar. I want friends close by and family to run to when the comfort level feels a bit narrow.

Maybe I don't need all this as much as I think I do but I know that I need it more than once a year.

I'll say it again.

It's an emergency that I am not closer to my place. It's not just any place. It's MY place. And I love it there.

I have no choice.

I could continue to throw away $50+ dollars per month on diapers for Miss Naughty or I could roll up my sleeves and dive in. To potty training that is. Those who have done this before know that it can go either way. Some kids want to go on a toilet and stop shitting their pants and others. Well, not so much.

There really isn't a choice anymore. She's taking her diapers off left and right, stripping naked and running around flashing her ass like she is Britney friggen' Spears.

I'm taking the naked approach. I let her wear a dress but go commando so she doesn't have to mess with those pesky underwear when we're in a hurry to reach the john. Girls like this sort of thing anyway, they want to feel the wind in their vagina. Or so I've heard.

Today wasn't so awful. Then it suddenly took a turn for the worse. Or worst if you want my opinion. I was doing my motherly duty of preparing a nutritious meal for the family I love so dearly when Miss Naughty began to scream. Not so much out of the ordinary except that when I went to check on her there was a trail of crap from the dining room to the bathroom where I found her, standing over a puddle of urine in shock.

And then the unthinkable happened.

I didn't freak out. Me, the freaker outer of all freaker outers, didn't freak out. I freak out all day long over the stupidest shit and I didn't freak out over real shit. Not even a little bit.

I am not a religious person by nature but some God from some religion came to my rescue and instilled a peace unlike any I've seen. It's just not like me to maintain such composure when all hell breaks lose at dinner time.

But then I surprise myself sometimes because I know what my kids need every once in a while. Miss Naughty was mortified that she had done such a thing. She has never gone poop out of her diaper before so today was a new experience all together and to top it all off she stepped in a big old heaping pile of it. That couldn't have been pleasant. I was the gentle mama who lovingly wiped the shit off her feet, legs, and bum and then moved onto the rest of the house. And I didn't once get angry or disgusted by my daughter's accident. I could tell by the look of relief on her face that she needed that from me more than ever.

So today I am patting myself on the back. I think that takes incredible patience. Patience I don't always have, but today I did.

Go me.

Grrr.....before coffee (mine that is)!

The mysterious looking substance on her face is tooth paste. It's not the first time she has done this. Something tells me it isn't the last.

It is always applied in the same fashion.

A new trend maybe?

Cafe Mama

Me: It's amazing that I can make milk, isn't it?

Him: Yeah, it really is something.

Me: I am cool.

Him: Too bad you don't make iced tea. That shouldn't be so hard, not like milk. You could have something different in each one.

Me: I would be so pissed if I had to provide the beverages for the entire family.

I'm too excited to sleep!!

My mind goes crazy at bed time and especially when am anticipating something. Next week I am going home for a visit and I'm really geared up for a taste of Maine. I miss it so much.

I miss the people there more.

It's so hard doing this sacrifice thing. I want to be closer to my friends and family so bad it makes my heart hurt. My dear friend hit the nail on the head in describing her need for home. It's an emergency that we are so far away. Once a Maniac always a Maniac I guess. It's true what the say, home is where the heart is. And while I am sure that my home is where my beloved and DD's are, a piece of me will always reside in Maine.

I'm scattered really. The county, Bangor, MDI, Gouldsboro. Each place represents a part of my life and I plan to revisit each one as long as the memory still breaths. I could say the same for other places I've lived but it wouldn't hold the same meaning. None hold that feeling of urgency for me that Maine does.

Something about crossing that thresh hold between New Hampshire and Maine. A relief blows over me along with the salty air and I am where I want to be. I take in every moment, every smell, every starry night and try to brand it into my memory because I know it will be a long winter before I see it, taste it, smell it again.

I may or may not get to move home in a year. I may end up living farther away. I hate the thought of it but what was the point of all this sacrifice if we don't take the opportunity where it presents itself. I may end up missing, cherishing and branding for the rest of my life.

If it happens that way I'll just have to live with the emergency. But at least I'll never have the misfortune of taking it all for granted.

I'm too hard on myself.

One of my bigger problems and I know that I'm not alone, is beating myself up about the way I look. Meaning I still have a bunch of weight to lose from this pregnancy. Hell, who am I kidding, from the pregnancy before this pregnancy if I'm being completely honest.

After Emily I shed a fair amount of weight but the last 10-15 lbs lingered and lingered and lingered. Then I found out that I was pregnant with A and started the process all over again. I gained a little less weight with A but still ended up the with the same number at the end of it all. Funny thing is, with all three of my pregnancies I finished at about the same weight. It's the magic number for me to make strong healthy babies I guess. But each one, the overall gain was different. And the end of each one the over all initial loss was different as well.

Can you already see that I put way too much time into thinking about this?

I hate this part of the child bearing process. Loath it really. I don't like to obsess, I don't like to buy new clothes to get me through transition and I don't like that nursing makes it harder to shed the post baby bulge I have around my mid section.

But I will keep nursing because I love it. I love the closeness I feel with A and it really is the easiest way to feed my daughter. Very cost effective, saves tons of time, the health benefits we both get because of it but most of all the comfort and security it gives to her.

I don't blame the nursing entirely. I have a sweet tooth. Better yet, all my teeth like sweets. And my tongue, too for that matter. Tongue is a weird word, isn't it? Just noticed that. Say it a bunch of times and it will start to sound strange. Like helmet. Weird.

But I digress.

I want to quit eating cake, really I do, but it won't let me. Ice cream, too. It's not enough that they have each other. They want me to share in the glorious combination. I tell them three is a crowd but I lose every time. And not in the way I'm hoping either.

So I'm working out. A lot. Well I'm working out a medium. In hopes that I will become a medium. Walking/running/lifting/squatting...whatever I can do to enhance my physique and shed the fat. It's not the number that gets me as much as it is the rolls.

And then I say, hold on a second, I LOVE ROLLS!! With butter. And then the cycle continues.

Seriously though, I need to chill. How long has it been since I gave birth? For the second time in less than two years? I need to cut myself some slack along with that slice of cake and enjoy my excuse to have a little extra jiggle to my wiggle.

Besides, J say's he likes a little extra cushion if you know what I mean.

It is hard giving myself that break though. Unless of course it comes with a side of ice cream. That makes it a whole lot better.

My Daughter!

This kid challenges me with every interaction, every single morsel of time we spend together. Her latest is taking her clothes off. And then her diaper. One would think, hmmm....is she telling me something? Does she want to potty train? The answer to that obvious question is a big fat NO!! She just wants to piss all over the house. She hasn't taken a poopy diaper off yet, THANK HEAVEN for small miracles but I know that it is going to happen sooner or later. Now we are keeping underwear on over her diaper because it keeps the diaper on when she's feeling particularly lazy.

She's a moody little nugget too. For instance, this morning I was nursing baby on the couch when she wailed from her bedroom to announce that she had woken up. I had O (young girl I babysit) go and grab her from her room since I have to gate her to keep her in there for bedtime and keep her from prowling at night. She came whining to the living room and threw her blanket at me and shoved her face in her hands to cry in protest that her mother was busy with the *gasp* other baby. The end of the world as she knows it. She often gets angry at me nursing A or holding her and will just walk up and slap her upside the head to let her know she's invading her territory. Such a tyrant that one.

She is cutting her eye teeth right now and that makes her a bit crankier than usual if that is even possible. It makes her night sleeping unbearable as well. I've been letting her cry this past week because her father has allowed a nasty habit of waking up for three or four hours at NIGHT get out of control. She's getting better but it's hard to let her cry. And I have to do double duty with A and E because she will refuse to get back in bed for her father and that kind of argument and test of wills just isn't something any of us wants to deal with at 2 am. So I do it. At least A only gets up once around 4 am and I just plop her in bed with me to nurse and sleep until we get up. It's frequent that she sleeps right through but right now she's hitting her three month growth spurt a little early and wants to nurse a bit more. I enjoy the cuddles to be honest and listening to her tiny breath as she sleeps. It's adorable. Oh and the little sighs? I love those.

Back to the bad kid. How funny is it when you get this little challenge and your heart grows bigger and bigger every day. You are frustrated but amused with their independence. I am so thankful to have her as my daughter. I am growing in big ways with this one. She teaches me of patience and how it will grow when life calls for it. She teaches me of endurance and just how much we can take and even when we feel like our well is dry there is always another drop to squeeze out. She teaches me to love when the limits are being pushed. And she teaches me that life is about curiosity and learning and getting all you can out of it.

And most importantly, how each and every single moment is a gift.