The lovely Debra gave me this wonderful badge. The I heart your blog badge. See, isn’t it pretty? I heart you too Debra.
So there are rules that go along with this honor. Do this meme; the one word meme. Only have one worded answers. Pass on the love. But see I’m a rule breaker. I believe that rules are made to be broken. (And I wonder why my kids are so dang opinionated.) I’m thinking that I’ll do the meme to the best of my ability, but I can’t promise only using one word.
Here’s where I become a rule breaker though. I love blog awards, I truly do. I love being nominated and I’m always happy to see that others who I love are getting recognized. But I can’t stand the tagging part that comes with memes. I over think it. Should I choose my friends? People I actually think will do it? People who are more unknown? People who I know won’t do it? It’s just too hard for me. I don’t want to leave anyone out, nor hurt any ones feelings. I read 97 blogs. Some of them are not individuals, you know Post Secret, Alpha Mom, Celeb trash (what? you know you read it too), but the majority of blogs I read are people. People who I adore. Some of them are blogs I never comment on, some I stalk, some are written by true friends, but I adore them all. I can’t choose just five people. I won’t just choose five people.
That was my long way of saying, everyone who reads here, I adore your blog. Please feel free to add the blog love picture to your site. Because I do, love your blog. Doing the meme, is optional. Because this, my tiny space here in the interwebs, is my world. So we do it my way.
The One Word Meme
Where is your mobile phone? Good question
Where is your significant other? Work
Your hair colour? auburn
Your mother? love
Your father? lame
Your favourite thing? my babies
Your dream last night? no sleep
Your dream goal? writer
The room you’re in? Bedroom
Your hobby? blogging
Your fear? loss
Where do you want to be in six years? here
Where were you last night? bedroom – awake
What you’re not? mean
One of your wish-list items? whirled peas
Where you grew up? LA
The last thing you did? Starbucks
What are you wearing? sweats
Your TV? widescreen
Your pets? pup-head
Your computer? Mac
Your mood? good
Missing someone? yes
Your car? hybrid
Something you’re not wearing? socks
Favourite shop? Coach
Your summer? bleh
Love someone? many
Your favourite colour? orange
When is the last time you laughed? Today
Last time you cried? 3am
So I have this teeny boy and I adore him…this you all know. I am really content to hang out and just stare at him all day long, every day. He’s quite cute, you know. But my girls are starting to show signs of being a bit jealous of him. Basically they are being asshats to me these days. Bailey, more than Morgan, but really both of them. Clingy one moment and bratty the next. I decided to take each of them on a special day with just me. Bailey’s was Saturday, Morgan’s will be next Saturday.
Off to the mall (her choice) we went, bright and way too early Saturday morning. As an aside here, does anyone remember when sleeping in on weekends meant later than 7:15am? Yeah, me neither. Anyway, we went to the mall, listening to her favorite CD the entire way.
Once there we proceeded to look in every single store. I do mean, every store. She wanted to point out all the things she wanted for Christmas. I really think her reasoning in going to the mall, was to search out and find Santa. I kept telling her, he’s not here yet, not until after Thanksgiving. She still looked for him in every store. She also wants things from every single store. I thought she’d find a store where she couldn’t come up with something she wanted, but no, even in the stores where there was nothing she could possibly want, she’d find something and say, Daddy wants this Mama, we should buy it for him. So, honey when you get the Buddha piggy bank for Christmas, you only have your daughter to blame. According to her, it is your greatest wish to own a Buddha piggy bank.
I bought her shoes and a couple of books, one sweater and some candy. I thought we were home free, because I’d managed to pull her out of the toy stores, telling her that she had to make a list for Santa; I wasn’t buying her toys today.
We’d almost gotten back to the car, when she said to me, Mama you always say next time, but today is next time, right? What are you talking about? That. She was talking about Build-a-Bear. The glowing lights of the store were shining in her wide eyes. The bears were calling her, I could see it. I thought in my head, how many times I really have said maybe next time to her. I did what any guilty feeling mommy would do. I walked her into the store and said, pick whichever one you want too.
We left with Hannah Montana, the Cheetah. She has a guitar and clothes. I did put my foot down at shoes, I was not paying for two sets of shoes. But it does sing. A Hannah Montana song, of course. Can you see me cringing through the computer?
It didn’t alleviate all of my guilt, but it did make me feel a bit better. I have to get a handle of having three kids. On taking a break from adoring Harrison; to remember to spend time with my girls.
It’s hard though. It’s so easy to spend all day with him. He’s small and he fits right here, in the crook of my neck…where he is right now. He’s easy as pie, he goes days without crying, he doesn’t talk back and honestly, I’ve waited a long time for him. After losing the baby last year, I know how precious it is, this time around is. I feel like I need to make up for the way I was for the majority of my pregnancy. I need to make up for not being sure I was emotionally stable enough for him. I feel like I need to prove too him how loved he is. My girls might be feeling a bit jealous, but they’ve had years with me. He’s only seven weeks old.
I’m having trouble finding the middle ground. I guess that’s something I need to keep working on. Until then, I am the mommy who buys Build-a-Bears. Just stick a sucker sign on me and call it done.
ps. Try as I might, I can not get the pictures of Bailey and Hannah Montana to load.She really was quite pleased with her choice. Her sister, not so much. But she’ll get her chance to do what she wants to next weekend.
Last night Morgan was arguing with us about bedtime. She is under the impression that she deserves a later bedtime than her sister. Logan and I are not. She’s horrible at getting up every single morning and her sister never is. (Although she can be a pain in the evenings.) When Logan told her that if we were doing it by that, that Bailey would have the later bedtime, she got seriously pissed. “That’s crap”, she said.
Excuse me, what did you just say?
That’s crap, she repeated.
No, freaking way is what I said back to her. You’re not doing that 12 year old attitude in this house. It’s unacceptable and I’m not putting up with it.
Crap, That’s crap, she muttered under her breath, while glaring at me.
I did the only thing I could think of, I pulled her into the bathroom and made her open her mouth and I shoved a small stick of soap in there. Then I set the timer for four minutes, one minute for each time she said crap to me. This is not how you are allowed to behave in my house, I said. You are NOT going to act like those bratty teens you see on Disney. You are 6 years old, not thirteen. Besides that, it’s unacceptable behavior at 13 years old and you’re not going to do it then either. You want to talk to me, like a rational person, fine. You want to come up with a rational argument, fine. But the truth is, after bedtime is mine and daddy’s time. Not yours. Until you are at least ten years old, we’re not having this conversation again. Your bedtime is 8:30pm and you should be happy about it, because I know kids your age who go to bed at 7:30pm. Your opinion matters in this house, I always listen to it and you know this. But at the end of the day, what Daddy and I say, goes. End of story. From here on out, when you cuss, this is what’s going to happen. Also, parental controls are going on Disney channel for the next week. If you can’t act your age and stop giving us teenage attitude, I will call Comcast and have them permanently remove the Disney channel from our TV.
Then I just sat there and picked at the towel for the next two minutes. When the timer went off, I removed the soap from her mouth. Now, do you have anymore smart mouth comments to make.
No Ma’am, she said.
Ok good, now go put your Jammie’s on, brush your teeth and get into bed. I’ll be in to read to you in a few minutes.
As she went up the stairs, I heard her mutter to herself, I’ll never be that mean to my kids. It took everything in me to not laugh hysterically until I got back into the living room. As I told Logan the whole story, we both laughed our asses off at what she’d said. I remember saying the same thing to myself, when it was me with the soap in my mouth. Except I believe my wording was, I’ll never do something so barbaric to my kids, because barbaric was my favorite word in the moment. Logan remembers saying something similar when it was done to him.
Here’s the thing though, it worked. I think I only had to learn that lesson twice. Around my friends, once I was a teen, I cussed. But I was probably 19 freaking years old before I ever cussed around my parents again. Logan thinks he was a bit more hard headed and it took him a few more times to learn this lesson.
It was the only thing I could think to do to her to make my point known. It was the first thing that popped into my head. She is not an easy kid to discipline. She can think of ways around everything. She doesn’t really play with her toys, so it’s not like taking them away would matter. Taking away the wii only matters to her for a few minutes. TV works, but only the first day, because she can entertain herself. I won’t take away jumping on the trampoline or playing outside, because then I’m really grounding myself, plus she needs to get that energy out. So, I did the first thing that came to mind. The thing that I hated as a kid, the thing that I swore up and down I’d never do. Soap in the mouth.
But it worked. She apologized last night and again this morning. She told her sister how horrible it was and that she should never cuss. Some things our parents did and their parents did are not cool. But some of it, dam it’s freaking useful.
But um, hey…do you guys know if I can really have the Disney station removed? I can put parental controls on it and I can leave it on, but if I do it for too long, I have to keep changing the codes, because she messes with it until she breaks it. In this moment, I’m not going to do it, but I need to know if it’s possible. Because I don’t threaten things I’m not willing to follow through on and I think I may have just done that.
So my lovely peeps, have you ever done something to your kids that you swore you’d never do?
The, Issa can’t see straight enough to type coherently, edition. Also, the Issa got NO SLEEP because her tiny baby was up sick all night, edition. Possibly the, Issa’s sinuses are taking over, edition. And maybe also the, Issa can’t let it go edition.
Take your pick.
When I met Logan, we were fourteen; in the first week of our Freshman year in High School. His brother Sam was eleven years old. Audrey, his younger sister was eight. For some reason, Sammy was the biggest annoyance in the world to us (nothing personal to him, because he’s awesome now, but 11 years old boys are not that fun), but Audrey kind of became our little mascot. She hung out with us and our friends. We’d take her places, I taught her to surf; we thought she was cool. Probably helped that she was completely easy going and fun.
She was thirteen when she came to Logan and I and asked us if she could take us out to dinner. Take, meaning, we take her out and we pay for it, of course. We thought it was because we’d just gotten married and she wanted to be nice, but really she wanted to talk. She came out to us that night. She told us straight up, she was not interested in guys, she had a girlfriend. She talked and talked and explained her feelings to us, never letting us get a word in edge wise. She was scared to tell her big brother. I’m not sure what he said to her, because honestly it’s been years. But whatever he said, she burst into tears. She was so thrilled that he’d support her 100%. Of course he would, we all did. Hell, he was just thrilled he didn’t have to worry about her getting pregnant at fourteen or something. Didn’t make him not want to hunt down and strangle the little girl who later broke his baby sisters heart for the first time, but that is just a boy thing. Protect the women’s; I think it’s in the male genes. The few people in our extended family who had issues with this, have long since gotten over it. While at thirteen, they though she was going through a phase (you know, the ever popular, I like girls phase? Only second in popularity to the, I want to be a rock star phase), by the time she met Lexi at eighteen, they had moved over that issue.
Audry and Lexi met their first semester in college. They weren’t roommates, but each of them had a best friend in the other ones room. I won’t forget the night she came over and told us about Lex. Bailey was only a tiny newborny, not much older than Harrison is right now. Audy was completely love struck. We teased her about it, because all she talked about was Lexi. Lexi does this, Lexi is gonna do that; Lexi and I are going to a concert next week. She said to us, you just wait, this one is going to last, I can just feel it. She’d had quite a few girlfriends. Turned out, being a lesbian in LA as a teen: not such a tough thing. Yes, there were issues from time to time. But LA isn’t some small town in the south. There was never any hate mail, nobody threatening her or really anything like that; just mostly normal High School stuff.
Not too long after that, we had some family event and Audy brought Lexi with her. We all adored her from second one. My MIL called it, she said, they are like you and Logan, they are meant for each other. She was right of course. You only have to see them together once, to know it is true. There is no one who would see them and doubt their love and adoration for each other. Their level of commitment is higher than most marriages these days.
Last year the bill passed in the state of California that they could legally be married. The state was now recognizing the union of gay and lesbian couples as it should have been years ago. We all rejoiced. Lexi proposed to Audrey and they bought each other rings. They are young, only 22 and both of their mothers asked them to wait until they finished school. They graduated last spring and started planning their wedding. They said they wanted a summer wedding and started planning it for August of next year. 9/9/09 is their planned wedding date.
“We lost”, said the sobbing voice on the phone this morning. At 6:30am she called us. Which is, in case you didn’t know, 5:30am California time. She stayed up; they both stayed up all night, hoping, praying it would be different. When it didn’t change, she waited until she knew Logan at least would be up and she called us. She’d already called and sobbed to her parents. We lost. Those two words broke my heart. The next four broke it even more: we’re getting married anyway.
I am beyond thrilled that Obama won, you really have no idea. I didn’t realize that I’d been holding my breath for weeks. I slept so well last night. Because honestly, I thought California would win this battle. I slept like a baby, as well as my baby.
But my lovely sis didn’t. She spent the night pacing and screaming at her computer and at the injustices of the world. She and her partner spent the night crying in each others arms, wondering what they would do now. About 3am, Lexi said, we’ll get married anyway. I love you and you love me and we’re doing this. When it becomes legal again, because you know, one day it will, we’ll get married again. Until then, we’ll be married anyway. To us, the people who matter. Our family and friends will come and celebrate us on our day. The world…well fuck em if they don’t believe.
She’s right, we’ll come and support them. We adore them and they deserve to have a day just for them. That day, my friends will be 9/9/09. The day, I get another sis-in-law for good. The day, they are hitched and Lexi will never get rid of us crazies again.
Today is a happy day for the US. I am happy, I truly am. But there’s a bitterness there too. An angry piece of me, that has no outlet. I just want to shake the world right now and say, these two belong together, how can you not see that? How can you not understand that this doesn’t change your fucking marriage? How can you judge someone for who they love, just because it is different for you? Because you don’t understand it, they should be penalized? I am angry for my baby sister. I am sad for her, but I am angry for her too. Audy and Lexi are just like Logan and I; just like all of you, who are married to your spouses. They support each other, they take care of each other and most important, they adore each other. The one difference, is their marriage won’t be legal in the eyes of the country.
Today is bittersweet for me and my family. I had to explain to Morgan and Bailey why I was crying this morning. Aren’t we happy mama? Aren’t we glad Mr. Obama won? Yes, my babies, we are. We are thrilled beyond belief about that. But we are sad for your aunties, because California passed a bill that means they can’t have the piece of paper that your daddy and I have. They can get married, but it won’t be legal. Well that makes no sense, Morgan said. I know, my love, I know.
I’ve had this political post going through my head for weeks. I’ve written it and re-written it so many times. But it’s just not working for me today. There are many others who can and will say it better than I ever could. I’m having some major anxiety issues (some because of this election, some because of other stuff) and I haven’t slept in the last few days and I’m just not in the place to write eloquently.
What, I’ll say is this: Your vote counts. All votes count. Please vote. The only way for change to happen (no matter what you believe in) is to make your voice heard. Please go and vote today.
When the ins and outs of taking care of kids is downright hard.
When you get tired of arguing about Summer versus Fall clothes.
When you get tired of trying to find matching socks and two shoes of the same pair.
When you just want to say, whatever, have whatever you want for breakfast, or don’t eat at all, I really don’t care.
When you get sick of hearing how much your grandma has deteriorated since yesterday.
When you get sick of trying to balance the checkbook, only to realize it doesn’t match the bank statement online, because your dam husband can’t seem to save all his receipts.
When you get sick of having the same argument with said husband, every single week.
When picking up socks and panties, out of every corner of your house, gets old.
When you’d rather sell the dog than listen to her bark at a falling leaf one more time.
When you are so tired of the viciousness and hateful things that are happening because of this election. Tired of arguing with people, who will never look past their own hateful argument.
Then there are days like today. Days that start out with these things above. Days where I want to run away to
Thankful for my babies all being healthy and full of life. Even if that means they may always fight me on clothes issues and breakfast choices.
Thankful for my husband who comes home very single night and picks up the slack.
Thankful, that he has no pre-conceived notion of “woman or mans jobs” around the house; that he will do dishes, clean a bathroom or change a dirty diaper without even having to be asked.
Thankful for having the time with my grandparents that I did. Knowing that most people aren’t that lucky. No, it doesn’t make it any easier to lose them all, especially not two in one year, but it’s still better than not having had them at all.
Thankful that my candidate in this election is 8 points ahead at this time. Thankful for Hope and Change and something different happening in this country.
Thankful for all of you. For listening to me whine, making me laugh and being great friends.
Today I am thankful.
Grab My Button!
I’m a joiner
