Ancient Chinese Secret, huh? If you remember this, you are old

A wonderful weekend of not having to be anywhere at anytime was savored until the last drop. We decided to visit our museum to check out the Ghost Hunters exhibit which turned out not to be very scary, but interesting to say the least. I ran into a person I kind of knew many years ago and who I couldn't really remember until he started talking for awhile and then like a light bulb beaming through my brain, I figured out who he was. Apparently, I played it off well, because he didn't seem to catch on that I didn't have the faintest idea who he was at first. Sorry, if you ever read this in the future- my memory is the equivalent of a gold fish.

Anyway, I forgot the damn camera, so I have no pictures to share of our day. What I do have to share is, when I have so much time on my hands, I have a tendency to think of what I should add to my already busy schedule. Sometimes, thinking gets me in all sorts of trouble. Especially, when it involves other people. Becoming a grandma has made me go through a mid life crisis-well, sort of. It has made me start to become aware of who notices me and how often I hear "Thanks, Ma'am" at the grocery store by the young and good looking bag boy. It's not that I feel that old and my husband still calls me 'hot'. I just have been questioning my youth and if I've become invisible to the world. I decided that I'm going to change some things in my life and even though it may not make me look twenty again, I can still feel better about myself. I'm starting with changing my diet. I'm not going on a DIET, just eating better in the hopes to gain more energy since I don't get the sleep I should. If the Internet has any suggestions or menus, please send me an email and if I like one, I'll post it and I'll send you a little something in the mail.

My next step is to get on the ball with my makeup and hair. It's very easy when you work at home to not wear much makeup or just throw your hair up in a ponytail. I haven't even replaced my empty makup base because I've been too lazy to make a special trip to the place that I get my makeup. I know, can we say, LAAAAZY???

So, my next change is to start doing my hair and taking the time to do my makeup- not promising what time of day, but I will.

My third goal is to start exercising again. I did put on a pair of pants yesterday that were a couple of inches too big and I'm not sure how that happened, but I am going to strive towards loosing about five pounds. My daughter wants to loose the baby pounds, so we're doing this one together. See? I knew I could drag someone in with me.

Will all of this make me feel younger? Turn a few bag boy's heads? Maybe. Or maybe I don't look as old as I think. As I think back to my run in at the museum, I was holding the baby at the time and my old friend had asked if that was my baby and I said that was my grandson and his jaw dropped at thought that I could be old enough to be a grandma-Thanks, Jason. I needed that.

Doing cartwheels off the couch

Things have been very busy this week, with putting a wedding album together, pictures to be edited, a book to finish writing and another to start and family life stuff on top of it all. Especially exhausting has been dealing with Emily asking every day if it's dance class day. Boy, has that been a task! But, I have been busting my ass so I would have everything done by today. Why? Because I have no photo shoots or weddings or anything scheduled this weekend. Yes, that's right. A free Saturday- I almost peed my pants at the thought of it. I'm so excited to sleep in if I want, walk around in my jams til noon and spend some time with the family.

We haven't decided totally what we want to do and that's fine with me because I feel my life has been "scheduled" for me the last couple of weeks without a break and it is going to be busy the next month or two, so an unplanned day is fine with me. We didn't get to go anywhere this summer that we had planned, so we may plan a trip to some of the local attractions.

If we take a vote, mine will be for the zoo. It's the perfect time of the year to visit and see my most favorite animal, the giraffe. I'm sure I'll be out voted though. Whatever we decide, I'll be sure to bring the camera to catch our day for the Internet.

I just have to make sure that I avoid anything that could possibly or even remotely remind Emily of DANCE CLASS.

Eight legged freaks

Yesterday, while playing out back, Emily decided to hunt for caterpillars by the fence. As I watched her dig through the dirt, I was reminded of when I was little and how I would always be coming home with some sort of bug or amphibian. I'm always amazed at myself when I think about how I would hold worms and frogs and things with a million legs. I say this now, because I will literally jump out of my skin if anything with eight legs or more even THINKS about crawling on me.

So, when I see her squeal in delight when she finds a worm and sticks it about 1 inch in front of my face, I have to wonder if she will still feel the same way 20 years from now? Or instead will she say, What the hell was I thinking? I wanted to keep that big black hairy wolf spider as a pet and call him Frank? OH MY GOD!!

I hope she won't change and develop a phobia like her mama to those little guys to the point of being paralyzed when a little spider takes a walk across the wall right above her head.
So for now I'll let her play with her little creatures and I'll try not to "teach" her to be afraid of them. The only thing is, she just doesn't understand why her new little friends keep "escaping" during the middle of the night from their jar. I just shrug my shoulders and tell her that's just one of Mother Nature's wonders...

She found her calling

Yesterday was Emily's first dance class and as I had mentioned, she was not looking forward to it. She envisioned torture tools and the removing of body parts, even after we went to the store and picked out a pink Hannah Montana leotard with matching pink tights and ballet shoes. Surely, nobody would torture someone wearing THAT outfit, right?

Daddy volunteered (ok, he was told) to take her because I'm a chicken shit and sometimes that's what dads are for. That hour was the longest hour in the world for me. I could just see him trying to pry her fingers off the side of the car door and drag her into the class kicking and screaming about how bad parents we are and how she will be in therapy for most of her adult life because of us.

After they finally got back, apparently all was forgiven as she ran into the house, talking at the speed of light about how fun class was and could she PLEEEESE go back tomorrow?

I was so happy that this turned out to be a good idea, but I'm sure I'll have to remind myself of this when she starts asking every morning if TODAY is dance class day.

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Side note:

I promised to pass along the award I received from Angela over at Unexpected Art -thanks again! I also am doing her 31 Days of Make Believe Challenge. Please vote for mine!

Mine goes up on Oct. 3rd. (dont worry, Ill remind you)

http://amonthofstuff.com/

So, here are the rules for the Shiny Object (or "Brillante Weblog Premio" Award):

1. Place the logo on your blog.

2. Link to the person who awarded you.

3. You can nominate up to 5 blogs.

4. You can then add their links to your blog.

5. Leave a message in the comment section to each nominee on their blog.So (drumroll please) I'm passing this award to:

Just Talk

Thoughts from the Mrs.

Punky Monkey

Eight Helping Hands

Me Time

Thanks for having awesome blogs!

No June Cleaver here

Sometimes, you don't realize just how much you rely on technology these days to survive until something you take for granted leaves you. One day last week, Jessica was attempting to warm up water for a bottle and our 10 year old ever faithful microwave went "bleep, bleep, buzzz....." and then nothing.

After falling to my knees and asking the heavens why they had to take my trusty old friend so soon, I got up and started to panic. What would I do now? How would I fix lunch? I looked in the fridge- Oh good, leftovers. Wait. I can't heat them up in the microwave. I looked in the freezer to see what I will do about supper. I grabbed a package of steak and looked at the time. I'll have to defrost it. Wait, no microwave. I frantically looked through our cupboards and found a can of vegetables. At least the can opener still works, except how will I heat them up? I slammed the can down on the counter. Just then, my husband came into the kitchen.

"What are you doing?"

"The microwave died and now we can't eat."

He looked at me and walked over and pointed to the stove.

"You know, you can use the stove to cook or heat food, right?"

"Oh yeah."

"What did you ever do before you had a microwave?"

"Pizza delivery."

The art of persuasion

"Mom?"

"Yes, Emily?"

"I think somebody wants to hold me."

"That guy over there?"

"No, Silly. YOU do."

"Thanks for letting me know."

Who needs the tooth fairy?

Emily, proudly hugging her coloring book that we got from Toys R Us after her final appointment at the "special" dentist's office. She made it a point to let them know that she was never going to have to go there again as long as she lived.

Too big for her britches

You know when your daughter is not a little girl anymore when:

a. She has a baby.

b. She gets a tattoo.

My mom asked me why I let her get a tattoo and I said that she is an adult now and I can only nudge her into the right direction and hope she makes good choices. I guess instead of nudging, I should start knocking her over with a bulldozer.

Stripper turned Ballerina

The other day, a friend of mine told us about an inexpensive dance class for little girls that sounded like a neat setup. I've been wanting to enroll Emily in dance since she was two, but never actually did anything about it. This program sounded like something I could fit into our schedule, so I am going this week to sign her up.

Emily is always dancing around and dressing up in ballerina dresses. I figured she'd be thrilled at the thought of hopping and twirling around with other little girls and actually learning how to dance without a pole and save her daddy from having a heart attack.

I expected her to shriek with delight and I had prepared myself already for her asking me everyday if it was time to go to dance class. Did this happen? Nope. When she heard the news, she instantly grabbed her jaw and fell to the ground as if she had just been told that they would no longer be showing Little Mermaid on the Disney Channel. "What's wrong?" I innocently ask. She covered her eyes and moaned, "I don't want to go to dance class!" I quickly explained to her that it would be fun and you love to dance, remember?

She sat up and protested, "But, they will give me a shot and hurt me!" That is when I discovered that apparently, ever since we took her dentist to get her teeth worked on, she was now not going to trust us to take her anywhere that she had not been to before. Surely, this person would hold her down and stick loud machinery into her mouth or torture her with a feather for hours.

I was all like, Honey, I know I told you it would not be that bad to go to the dentist and then you would not talk to me for a week afterwards, but you need to believe me and know that this WILL be fun.

For the next half hour, I explained to her that she gets to wear Tinkerbell outfits and loud shoes and I won't even yell at her not to wear those loud shoes. I told her that she would make new friends and maybe they could come to her birthday party in a couple of months. I continued with how she could even wear makeup to class-Mommy's makeup if she wanted. She finally let go of her jaw and I could just hear the wheels turning in her head as she quickly smiled. "Do we get to go to the store to buy my Tinkerbell outfit?" I rolled my eyes and stated, "Yes Honey, we get to go to the store." She then jumped up and yelled, "Yeah! I like dance class!"

Apparently, now I will have to use her materialistic tendencies to get her to go places and deal with the shopaholic anonymous meetings later.

Sleepless nights

First, I apologize for the lack of posts this week. I'm running on only about 5 hours a night of sleep- yes, this could be sufficient to most people, but not me. I have to have at least 8-9 hours or I'm a zombie. Proof to this fact is when I was told that my husband had brought two McRib sandwiches to the hospital, and even though they sat right in front of me, I didn't even ask for one. Mind you, McRibs are my favorite item at Mickey D's and when they come to town, I order them every time we go until I get sick of them on purpose to tide me over until they come back on the menu.

As a writer, a lack of sleep wreaks havoc on trying to concentrate for a decent piece of writing. Especially when I was accepted as a contributing author for MomSpark and TeamMom the same week. I promise to get on board and back on schedule this week.

We all are still getting used to a baby being in the house, with the two other "babies", Emily and Mia (our dog) feeling left out. This week I was told by Emily that I didn't love her anymore and I accidentally left Mia outside in the rain for an hour.

The other day, I caught the two of them in Emily's room, planning the baby's mysterious disappearance and what they would write in the ransom note. Mia demanded going potty on the good rug for a week and Emily wanted nothing less than for mom and baby to check into Motel 8 for the next 18 years.

So, I will have to include some major three year old and puppy time before Zach's face shows up on the back of a milk carton.

The days of new motherhood

We survived Jessica's hospital stay and now she is peacefully at home. Well, other than being wakened up every 3 hours or so. Mr. Dad and I were civil to each other her last night at the hospital but, as I feared, when you give him a little nibble of niceness, he jumps out and devours you.

Our agreement with Jess was that they meet at a public place if she were to decide to let him spend time with the baby. If I were to let him come over once (which would be against my husband's wishes and he is not worth causing marital problems) he would be at our door every day like a stray animal looking for food. I can not and will not live my life like that. Just because he's the dad doesn't mean I have to see him. So, of course he asks me (over her head) if he can come over to visit him.

"No, you get to meet somewhere as planned," I answer.

Silence from him.

So, how does he get me back? HE is carrying the baby out to the car.

Big deal.

Also, as I expected, he called my daughter about 20 times since she's been home. You know, to make sure every thing's ok. THAT put a damper on her getting things done.

"You need to tell him how things are going to be," I tell her.

"I know," she answers.

"Hmmm," I finish.

Let her discover her new baby right now, I say to myself. Now, she can finally play with him, kiss him and love him without Mr. Dad telling her how to do it. She'll learn what's important and she will get tired of having a control freak around telling her what to do all the time. I trust her- it would just be easier to kick his ass, but as she will learn, moms have to let their children figure it out for themselves.

Zachary Scott Elliott

Dear Zachary Scott,

We've waited so long for you to join us in this world. You gave your mama many aches and pains with your kicking, stretching and just being a little booger. You cried wolf to us many times with many trips to the hospital. Finally, your brave mama decided to let the doctors take you out of her tummy.

You were worth the wait and I felt honored to be able to cut the cord. You came into this world, a beautiful healthy baby boy-yes, I said beautiful. You can yell at me later. You looked at me and that's when I knew I was hooked.

I saw your mama in you and was reminded of when she was a baby and how happy I was to have her. Now, I am happy to have you as a grandson. When I go home from visiting you in the hospital, I can't wait to come back to see you and your mama and hold you tight.


I am so curious to what kind of relationship we will have. I look forward to conversations with you when you can talk and what your dreams in life are. You are my little Zach and I will love you no matter if you want to wear pink or spike your hair or even if you love spiders-well, maybe.

I look forward to when you come home and even with the sleepless nights to come and even when your mama comes to me crying, saying that she can't do it. I will help your mama to be the best mama to you because you deserve it.
I know you will be a great son to your mama and you will protect her and make her laugh when she is sad. You and your mama will be a great team, with trips to the park and zoo and lots of laughter together. You are a Christmas present come early and the best gift your mama ever received.
So, welcome to the world, little guy. I love you and miss you and can't wait to come hold you again.
Love,
Nana

C-section possibilites and disposing of a rat

Today for my post, there will be no humor, no witty comments or a "writer's outlook".

Today, I just want to scream at the top of my lungs.

First, I know you want to know about the baby. He's not here yet and they did the inducing but it didn't work. They are trying to soften the cervix now and if that doesn't work, it's a c-section. Mom to be is fine, except that we went through the nightmare I feared to come true- the father found out we were there. It just so happens that his friend was up at the hospital because his girlfriend just had a baby. (go figure, birds of a feather..) and he called him. This was such a joyous occasion until he came and then it all went to hell.

Did my daughter tell him to go to the deepest, darkest, smelliest hole and die? No. She acted like they were best friends. She became a different person and I wanted to strangle her. Was I the only one that remembers everything that happened? Was I the only one who remembers being there for her through the pain of what he did? I was hot. I wanted to take him by the throat and rip every organ out of his body and stomp it into the ground.

I tried to reason with her, I reminded her of the plan where she tells the nurses and they take him by his shirttail and throw him into the elevator. What does she say? "I don't care if he is here."

Does this boy deserve to be here for my daughter's baby's delivery? NO. We are taking care of her and we are supporting her and we have been there for her-not him.

I wanted to take her by her arms and shake her and say, What the #!%!$!%*%$##!$%#!$%# are you thinking??

ARGHHHHHHHHHH!

So, now this joyous occasion turned sour and what should of been her day, turned into his day.

Should I just bite my tongue and let him just take over with his pompous attitude and his no respect for authority attitude? Maybe. But, if you know me, then you know I just couldn't.

Jessica is very beautiful, smart, funny and could go far in life. I can't take the chance of him worming his no good, rotten, not-going-anywhere-life butt back into her life. My blood pressure was high and I wanted to kill him.

I decided to tell her that if she wanted me to handle this, then I just asked one thing- keep him away from us. He could wait in the waiting room with an occasional visit in the room when she told him it was ok. Did this boy respect this? Nope. He started just coming in uninvited and disrespecting our wishes. I tried to give him a chance to see if he changed but he was the same rotten kid.

Should I of just let it go again? Should I just pretend he didn't exist for my daughter's sake? I know, probably. But with my emotions already running high with being worried about my daughter, no sleep and that douche bag there, I lost it. I grabbed my stuff and said that I was leaving. This brought on alot of crying and anger and finally, Jessica's step mom step in and took him for a "walk" to talk to him.

This ended him being around me for the night and when we went home, he was still in the waiting room and was going to stay overnight out there because he doesn't have a car (go figure) and didn't have a way back.

Did I sleep last night? Barely. Visions of them getting married in the hospital while I was gone and moving into his camper haunted me all night.

I'm off to hospital in a little while and I'm sure that the first thing I'll see is that WASTE OF A HUMAN BODY sitting there when I get off the elevator. Damn those metal detectors these days. Puts a damper on being able to tote a semi-automatic pistol in your purse.

Ahh, see? I guess I can add a little humor.

The moment of truth

We made it to yet another week's end with no baby. My daughter's belly is getting bigger by the day and I fear he's going to be able to walk out, with his own cigar and say, What's up?

She's on her way to yet another weekly appointment to see what's going on. They are going to do a non stress test, check her and an ultrasound. Sounds scary and alarming to me, but I've been hearing that this is a normal routine for overdue moms.

I'm SOOOOO ready for this baby now that I can taste it. Before, I was scared for my daughter, not ready to be a grandma and not prepared for a little baby to be around. Now with this delay, I'm so over it all and just want the darn little thing to come out!

Maybe this was supposed to happen this way with all the trips to the hospital, the late nights, wondering if THESE labor pains are the real thing and the waiting, waiting and waiting. It's made me want this and need this more than anything. Funny, how the universe works to welcome things into your life?

So, if they decide to induce her today, I will be right there saying, go ahead. Make me a grandma- I'm ready.

Sibling Rivalry

Ten ways to annoy my twelve year old son:

1. Let his little sister get away with everything.

2. Let his little sister have his toy that she comes screaming out of his room with.

3. Make a big deal out of every cute thing his little sister does.

4. Give his little sister a dollar just because she asks.

5. Let his little sister get away with everything.

6. Tell him it's just so funny when his little sister says that naughty word.

7. Let his little sister have a bowl of HIS cereal.

8. Let his little sister get away with everything.

9. Believe his little sister when she says he started it.

10. Let his little sister get away with everything.

Labor day with no labor

Alas, another weekend passed and guess what? No baby. So, we spent the weekend doing alot of walking around. By the time this baby is born, I'm going to be 5 lbs lighter and in the best of health. But, I fear this child will be two before he decides to step foot (or should I say head) out into this world. Is this his father's butthead genes taking affect? I will love this little bundle, but I'm afraid I will have to take him aside and tell him that if he even thinks about acting like his dad, I will have to hang him by his toes and torment him with a feather until he promises to be nothing like him.

I'm am proud to say though, that Emily has decided to have her baby. What the heck am I talking about? All during Jessica's pregnancy, my three year old has been saying that she has a baby in her tummy too. She would stick out her belly so proudly and show us. This would cause her father to have an aneurysm and die each time. Just like he does when she does her pole dancing moves and her hooker walk. All that I have to add, she learned from watching the dance moves from Hannah Montana and all the other Disney girls turned singers. I just laugh and say, "Honey, think of all the money she'll make us."

I guess she's decided it's been long enough, so now I'm the proud Nana of three baby dolls.

I think I'll save the congrats cigars for later when we go to the strip club to watch her dance and use the dollar bills from her hooking to tip the dancers.