Life

New Beginnings

2012-01-02T15:14:00.000-08:00

Life is interesting. We have ups. We have downs. We float high up in the clouds, and we sink far to the depths of hell. And through it all, somehow we manage to endure. To tread on. To keep our heads up and continue forward on the paths we choose.
2011 brought about many changes. In January I got to bring home our preemie, Draikaiden, after his 3 months stay in the Sunrise NICU. For those who don't remember he was born 15 weeks early at a mere 1 pound 6 ounces. He's pushing 22 pounds now and almost walking. He's amazing. Brother and Sister love him to pieces, and sissie just cannot keep her hands off him.
Easter time brought about a low time for me, as 3 of my discs in my cervical spine began to bulge out, creating excruciating pain and immobility.
I said good-bye to a large part of a family who only ever dragged me down, including my mother. Lost a few friends. Gained and amazing one who lives next door.
Spent the first ever Holiday with my Dad's family, getting to know the people my mother spent so much of my younger years keeping me from. I've developed relationships with many of them.
The monkeys have grown like wild flowers, they are full of wonder and life!
In December my cousin broke her back in a car wreck. I spent a week in Missouri with that part of the family. Also made it through Denver to make some amazing business partners.
Once I returned from MO, we learned my husband's grandmother passed away. So we drove out to Colorado to be with family, and finally meet family I've only heard of for the past 13 years. They loved the kids, we got great photos, and had great times!
The year wasn't all bad, but it wasn't very good. There was heartbreak, loss, fear, loathing, hate, love, gain, tears, stress, laughter, joy, and sadness. It was a year of success, since we all made it out OK. But I am happy to be rid of it.
I started college last summer, hoping to complete my Bachelor's in Digital Design and Animation this fall. So between school, 3 monkeys, and a very exciting new business venture, Life will most definitely keep me on my toes for yet another year!
I hope everyone has a blessed year full of positive beginnings and love!
~jes

I See Your True Colors Shining Through...

2011-10-23T03:05:00.000-07:00

••Warning!! Explicit Content: DO NOT READ if you are sensitive or easily offended!!!!••

So, I was having an argument with my adopted sister. My momasked if she could come stay with me for a month or so in the summer (this pastsummer) and I said yes, of course! I loved Lisa and would love having her here!Well, she asked of this about 3 months prior to summer break this year. Lisawas getting all down, talking like she was incredibly depressed on her FB page,so I mentioned to her that she should be happy, she gets to come up here withme this summer! Well, my mom FLIPPED out on me for telling Lisa about the plan.Apparently it was a huge secret that I was unaware of. I mean, why wouldn’t shewant Lisa to know? It gives her something to look forward to, an incentive toget her grades up and do her chores (which apparently she does ALL of while mymom sits on her ass and watches TV, and Lisa’s younger sister is just lazy andmom never makes HER do anything cause she’s the baby even though she’s 12, Ithink).

So the argument started one day when I posted a comment toLisa’s photo of her with waaaay too much make-up on for a 16-year-old, a tighttank, and a look that only porno stars give in photo shoots. Let me back up,Lisa commented on one of my photos telling me that I looked like SHIT in thephoto. I laughed it off, I didn’t care, I liked the photo! So I jokinglycommented that she looked like a hooker with all that make-up on and WTH wasshe trying to do? Well, her very uneducated friend chimes in, in Lisa’s defense,telling me that ‘Lisa iz not a huker, shez a nice pursun’ and what the hell elseshe said I couldn’t decipher, because she couldn’t spell a single word! Lisaresponded too, but I cannot remember her words either. I told them both thatthey definitely needed to stay in school because I never actually said Lisa WASa hooker, she just looked it because of all the make-up and suggestive pose. Sothey both continue to attack me, Lisa telling me how mean I am, and that I’mjust a bully going around attacking people all the time. W.T.F?? So, I justdropped it, there is no arguing with teens, they hear no common sense inanything adults say.

Well, around this time I finally got our Easter Photosposted to FB, the awesome ones my dear mother-in-law and father-in-law helpedto take, and were part of. My mom nagged me since we brought the baby home in January forphotos. So once I finally got them up, I let her know. 2 weeks later I stillhadn’t heard her mention the photos, so I asked her if she’d seen them yet. Shesaid she just hadn’t had the time or been able to get on the computer. So I gota little upset. My loser cousin and her job-less hubby, and 2 adopted sisters were ontheir FB pages every day after school, and my mom seriously couldn’t walk overto the computer to view the images she harassed me about for so long?? Well,whatever. I just let it go.

So, then I posted an image of a painting I’d been working onfor my dear friend Jana. Poor Jana had been waiting forever for me to finish! Iwas pretty proud of the image, and was excited for my mom to see it; sometimesshe pretended to care so I told her to go look at it. It was during this week that Lisa and I had the imagespat. It was also during this week that mom told me that neither Lisa nor Ambercould come up here to visit, even though I had arranged for a ride, and waspaying for everything else! I got into it with her telling her that is exactlywhy she got mad at me for saying anything at all to Lisa about the trip,because she never had ANY intentions of sending her, even though it was HERidea to get Lisa away from a boy, and away from the rest of the kids so shecould be around an adult, and learn to start acting like one. Paraphrasingthere but that is what my mother said! She’s very quick to tell people thatLisa isn’t very bright and acts like a child, and isn’t going to be ready to beout on her own in 2 years when she turns 18 (her mom did smoke crack while shewas pregnant with her, and probably in the room with her while she was a baby).So, I was pissed at my mom, was really looking forward to Lisa spending timewith me and the kids for a month in the summer, but whatever, again. My mom isa control freak, and I know she didn’t want Lisa out of her sight, that is thereal reason she wasn’t allowed to travel 1000 miles away!

So the next day, and after about a week of it being up, I textedmom and asked if she’d seen the painting yet. Of course she hadn’t! She hadsooooo many other things to do that a housewife does when she has a 25 year-oldlive-in bitchy cook who refuses to get a job, education, OR take care ofherself or her own children, and a 16-year-old slave girl who, my mom is proud to say, isn’t thesharpest tool in the shed! So, that was it for me. I was really mad now.

Mom tried to call a couple times; I ignored her. She texted;I ignored. Then she started getting mean, and leaving voice messages sayingthat I needed to grow the fuck up, and this is ridiculous, all because shewouldn’t let Lisa ride in a car with a perfect stranger (friend of mine who waswilling to bring her halfway), and when I get my head out of my ass to give hera call!

So yeah, I’ll get right on that. I understood her notwanting Lisa to ride with my friend’s husband, but she was seriously just beinga bitch about it; insulting my friend’s taste in men because of her firstmarriage mistake. I even offered to come all the way to Safford to pick her up,and mom STILL said NO. It was just a control thing. She knew she’d lose controlof Lisa while she was 1000 miles away. She just wanted to be mean, and not letthe girl have any fun, because my mom is soooo miserable, she has to suck thelife out of everyone else too. And I know that my mom totally turned it around on me, making me out to be the bad guy by not letting Lisa come up here!

So after maybe a week, Lisa contacts me through FB, this isthe convo between Lisa and I all the way up to the day I pissed my mom off bynot responding to her, and prior to mom making her and Amber delete me andblock me on my personal page.

April 9

Lisa Abshier hey jess umm i cant wait too go upthere with u its goin too be so fun and i hered i get too stay for a month sotaxt back oh and by the way wats ur number

Jessica LaRue has mom decided when you get to come yet? my cellnumber is 928-792-6781. i need to send you a text from my yahoo account thoughcause it's easier to type from there. but feel free to text me when you want!

April 10

Lisa Abshier i cant text u i have no time on my phone but anyway are u shure im goinup there with u cuzz i dont think monas goin too lrt me

April 12

Jessica LaRue mom said she JUST bought you minutes. if you'd stop wasting minutes onone and two word texts to your friends, you could text me!
and we're still working on the plans on getting you up here. Todd says it'scool with him. So now I just need to work on mom.

April 12

Lisa Abshier k but ya sorry i cant text u but hey i get of school on may/26 so i hopei can go up there cuzz i need too get away from mona shes makin me crazy imlike her slave

April 20

Lisa Abshier jess are u still goin too let me go up there i just need to get awaytake some time away from mona and tristan and every 1 els i just need time toomyself pleez do this for me love you

April 21

Jessica LaRue of course Lisa. I want you up here. I haven't changed my mind, hassomeone made you think I have?

April 21

Lisa Abshier no but mona might not have the gas to drive half way but no i waz justwonderin cuzz we i only have like 3 more weeks of school left

April 28

Lisa Abshier hey jess havent hered from u in a while i cant wait too get up there ineed too talk too u bout crap i just want to leave i feel trapped mona doesentlet me do anything at all but wateva pleez text back love u sis

April 30

Jessica LaRue i've been busy and in terrible pain. we just got back from Vegas a whileago. I'm exhausted. Sorry, I'm not on Facebook much, I'll check messages more often.

May 3

Lisa Abshier k so when u planning on coming down me and amber are so excited to getto spend some time with u this summer

May 18

Lisa Abshier what do u mean ur not the person i should be mad at why are u bien sucha pain i no u have a new baby but come on

May 21

Lisa Abshier why dont u mind ur own buzness and ya i no i spelled it wrong but u needto stop acting like a baby and stop making fun of people u make fun ofeverybody and ya stop acting like u no everything and leave me alone and mabieu should go back to school and learn sum manners god grow up im goin throwenough stuff right now i dont need more from u so ya if u dident want me upthere then just say it okk im done byeeee

May 22

Jessica LaRue Wow, I'm not the one who didn't want you up here. I had it completelyworked out to where Mom only had to drive you to Globe. Everything else wastaken care of. But i've gotten 4 different excuses now about why you can't comeup here. I accused mom of having never planned letting you come up here tobegin with, that's why she got mad at me for telling you about it to beginwith. And stop being such a bitch to me, I'm not being mean to you, I'm playingaround with you. Did I attack you when you told me I looked like shit on one ofmy photos? I've gone completely out of my way to get you up here this summerand no matter what I do, Mom rejects it. She doesn't want you out of her site,she wants you where she can keep utter control of you. I know you wanted to getaway from her, she hates teenagers, she doesn't know the first thing about howto raise them. She doesn't really know how to raise kids at all, and I feel foryou girls being stuck with her. But it's out of my power, I tried to get youaway for a while, but mom just won't allow it. I even told her I would find youa ride to Globe so there would be zero cost from her end and she still said no.So don't bitch at me about ME not wanting you up here! I did, It's mom who neverwanted you to leave Arizona. And don't fucking tell ME to grow up when you're16-years-old and your biggest problem is that you're lusting after 212-year-old boys who just aren't interested in you. I actually have realproblems like sick children and a ruptured disk in my neck. I'm tired ofhearing that I need to grow up when I'm the only person in the entire fuckingfamily who can actually support myself with a college education! Everyone elseis a bunch of leeches and junkies and I get all the shit for being the realgrown-up. Everyone down there can go to hell for all I care! And if you want tokeep treating me like shit when I try to play around with you, then you canjoin them! I'm done with games!

So, the above letter, I am assuming, never made it TO Lisa, Ibelieve mom completely intercepted it. She then sends me the following text.Clearly she’s computer illiterate and ignorant to the workings of FB.

May 22, 2011 Text from Mom:

Wow! I just read ur facebook rant. If ur so educated, grownup, busy with sick kids, pathetic neck pain, how do you have time to fight likea child, with a child? And u did it on line! Now the whole world knows ur a33yr old child! Im so embarrassed for u sis! U must feel really humiliated.Sorry baby, I keep tellin u, u have no common sense. U should always think b4 utype on line! But now since uve made a complete ass out of urself online, maybthat will teach u. Luvs. Ur just jealous cause im a better mother to these guysthan I was to u. Practice makes perfects! Kiss the babys!!

Yeah, of course I’ll kiss the babies for your sorry ass. Inever responded to her. I broke down into hysterics after that 'jealous' line,and called Becky, who happened to not answer the phone at the time, so I calledTamara, who knows all about mom, so no explanation was needed. She helped mecalm down. Then I noticed thru FB, Lisa and Amber had both blocked me. That made me mad, but knew it was mom's doing. Then Todd hops on my computer one day while I had my company FB page open. Lisa is trying to chat with me, but we weren't sure if it WAS Lisa or not, so I told Todd to just block her. Well, the next day I logged in and saw the attempted chat from Lisa, Todd didn't block her! So I went to her page to do it. And guess what I see? From my loser cousin Taylor's account, my mom posted, about FIFTEEN times, the above text, starting it out with "Hey Jess, this is Mom..."

FIFTEEN TIMES she reposted that text on Lisa's Wall!!! So, I'm sorry, but WHO exactly needs to grow up??

Mom sent a few more texts, which I ignored, didn’t even read, then Ifigured out the phone had a Block Number option. So she was blocked! And myhome phone has a block number option too. She tries to call, phone hangs up onher. She tried to call from my loser cousin’s phone, I had Todd block itimmediately and they couldn’t get thru to leave nasty messages on my phoneabout how my husband is holding me prisoner, like she has done before!

So, I’m kind of an emotional wreck for a week, I don’t knowwhy that woman’s paper cuts can burn so badly. After a week, I was great again.Then comes this message in July.

July 9, 2011 Text from Mom:

Trying to pick my balls up, and go on. I realize now that Itotally emotionally shut down. Don’t know when I started with “I can’t” but Ino that has never been my motto. Ive always been a I can girl. Sorry I let u& my fam down. Im really comin back now. U know the real me sis. Im notbad, just misunderstood. U r ur mothers daughter. Luv u! So proud! Don’t ask meany questions now. Just listen, luv me, I need u. Trust me. I got it this time!

I responded telling her to stay out of my life, I was donewith her games, after I found out she tried to kill herself again. Re-blockedher, cause I’m not sure how that message seeped through. Then last week I getthis:

October 20, 2011

She sent some message about just in case the world ends onthe 21^st like predicted, she wanted me and the kids to know that sheloves us. I forget the rest and didn’t save it.

I responded, being nice and letting her know I had uploadednew photos of the kids on my company facebook. She said she didn’t have acomputer because AJ broke it. So I told her I was making her a book forChristmas anyways, so she’d get to see them. She didn’t respond.

And then out of the blue, as Linda and I are cooking dinner,I get this message, with my mother’s true colors shining through:

Oct 22, 2011

Im not sure I want ur fuckin “crumbs”. I just though u mitesend me some pictures of my grandkids! I don’t want ur fuckin book! I justwanted a few pictures. Apparently that’s to much to fuckin ask for!! Keep urfucking block! I dont want ur snooty ass in my life. Ur ass can keep ur book.Ill c em sometime. U stay blocked and out of my life, u selfish hateful bitch!Do not text me ever again! Im done with ur loser ass. No wonder todd makes uplovers, ur as cold as ice.

My response:

Go fuck yourself! You are the worst excuse for a mother inthe history of parenthood. And no, you will NEVER see my kids!! Go get yourselfnice and drunk now, cause I’m assuming you’re out of pills and meth due to yourfucking attitude. I don’t want to hear that you love me and the kids becausethe world might end tmrw, I don’t believe U. You’ve never loved anyone butyourself!

Mom’s #1:

No that’s u u selfish cunt

Mom’s #2

I don’t owe u any explanation. But im drug free, liquorfree, meth free. That’s why I can see u for what u r!! A big insecure fuckinloser! U cant even keep ur man interested! He has to hav make believe affairs!Mayb if ud quite whoring around hed quit! But u never could k3p ur fuckin legsclosed huh jess? Fuck off!

My response:

You’re not sober, and u never have been a day in your life.And you’ve never seen me. You don’t even know me. You can try to say all thehurtful things a cunt like you can think up, your words don’t phase me. Udisowned me and toby in our teens over those SS checks, disowned me again whenI told you I was joining the marines,, was pissed off I moved to FL to get toknow my real parent, the one you spent our lives telling lies about. Say allyou like woman, I blocked you from my life twenty years ago. Your lack ofsobriety was so pathetic when I was a child that u didn’t even notice Pitmantrying to put his hands down my pants when I was 7, he was just a conveniencefor u because he had drugs right? And that was all that mattered. You are allthat matters to you, but please, keep the insults coming, this will make for anexcellent book.

Her Response #1:

I’m sure ull be a

Her Response #2:

Here’s another little fact for u. Ur dad didn’t want u either.

Her Response #3:

Fact Check! I disowned u when u were inside me. U made mefeel dirty. Never ever wanted u and nothings changed! Still dont! Block me uchicken shit whore! Block me. I hav my real datghters now, and u cant hold acandle to them. Block me and lose my number! I still dont want u and neverwill. Ur to scared to block me! Ha ha ha chicken shit. My real daughters gotmore balls than u. Ha Ha

Her Response #4:

One more thing. U do follow in ur dads footsteps. He was awhore. And uve made him proud!! Atta girl!! U must be so proud!!

My Response:

God it must feel good to be drunk again. Here’s a fact foryou, you don’t exist. I’m not blocking you because I’m writing all this down,want to make sure my kids know why both my parents died. And Dad did want me,and loved me, and proved that to me. Your adopted children were only adoptedbecause they came with paychecks. When something benefits YOU, you go out ofyour way to make it happen. Toby and I barely had what we needed for school butu sure as hell had your full liquor cabinet, bag of pot, and crystal meth. Evenyour dogs were taken better care of than us! Then u had to sink lower than scumand get him hooked on meth. Mother of the fucking year! It’s so sad that youare so unhappy you have to drag everyone else down. I feel so sorry for Shawn,he deserved a much better life than you. You’re the reason he’s so broken. Butyou just gotta keep going don’t you? Blow your fucking brains out already.

Her Response:

I to am savin these. Right back at u, Blow ur fucking brainsout. Oh thats rite, u dont have any. Do ur husband and kids a favor and die b4u fuck them up more! Try to do 1 unselfish thing in ur life! Die! U were neversupposed to b born! Have a nice day whore! Im done talkin to a dead woman!

My Response:

Omg, do you even hear yourself? Every time you don’t getwhat you want, this is exactly what you do, go to great lengths to say the mostridiculous shit that makes NO sense and holds zero truth just to try to hurtpeople and make them mad. Look up the definition for ‘whore’ you idiot! Youhave to actually be having sex with multiple people AND collect money forservices rendered. I can count all the men I’ve had sex with on my hands, but Ibet you can’t even count the guys you fucked with an abacus!! Oh, sorry, that’sprobably a big word for you. Dropping out in 6^th grade and all. Yourinsults are fucking hilarious, keep em coming, I needed the laughter tonight.Make sure you’re drinking with a straw, you’ll get drunker faster. If youdidn’t want me so badly, why did you go to such great lengths to keep me fromDad, who actually tried to get us several times?

Her Response #1:

I just gave u ur greated wish. U r welcome. Now u can behappy!! Wait for it, ur gonna luv it I promise!!

(not a freaking cluewhat she was talking about here)

Her response #2:

News flash ur dad had 5 kids he never wanted u til u weregrown up. Cheap prick didn’t pay any child support for any. He only wanted uwhen u were grown up. But its ur fantasy, run with it. God u r fuckin stupid!!Grow up. Fuck off and eat shit. He really didn’t like u, u were a worthlessgirl. He didn’t want any kids u stupid bitch. U r so dumb. Wow. All thatcollege and ur dtmber than a box of rocks. He hated u

Her response #3:

U hau me confused with peggy. I went to high school u dumbass. U have no gdea ur talkin about as usual. Ur facts r so very very wrong.Again. Toby has the brain again. U dont no anything at all about me, u neverdid and u never will.

My response:

Nope, I’m not confused, I know who you are, and I know whopeggy is. You are both selfish cunts so fucking miserable with your own choicesin life that u do whatever is possible to drag everyone around u down. You twospent the 1^st 18 years of my life playing me against the other,always trying to show me how horrible the other truly was. And I know shitabout you, I know you flip the fuck out like this when you’re havingwithdrawals, or detoxing. I know you make shawn buy you whatever pills he canfind instead of actually taking care of the girls. I know you sit aroundfeeling sorry for yourself about how horrible peggy treated u instead ofimproving your life in any way. And I know you’re pissed off at the world rightnow because u are literally stone cold sober. No matter how many times you sayit, I’m not dumb, or stupid, or a whore. I have a life, an education, a career,a company, a great marriage, and 3 beautiful kids who I love and take care ofwith every ounce of my being. You can’t understand that though, because you areso selfish. And putting Dad down, this man you’ve ‘loved’ and will always‘love’ isn’t making you more powerful or anything. But I get it, you’re pissedoff because you’re detoxing. Well guess what, it’s not my fault! It’s yourfault you’re a junkie, it’s your fault both the girls are humiliated by you,and it’s your fault you let the whole family walk all over you. I’ve been outof your life since you gave up on me and toby when I was 12 and sent us to livewith peggy. SHE fucking raised me, u get no credit for that. U dragged usaround letting us watch as Don beat the fuck out of you time and time again.We’d of been better off in foster care! Keep telling me to grow up, I’m surethat makes YOU feel more like an adult. But I grew up long before you!

My mother is clueless. She has spent her life in a bottle,hooked on a pipe, with pills in her blood, and her mind in a daze. She has no idea howto take care of herself, or anyone else except her animals. She shaftseveryone; and she’s great with the manipulation games, just like her mother.I’ve hated my mother since the first time I remember seeing her drunk andattacking my blind grandmother, or beating the hell out of one of her youngersisters, or completely destroying my aunt’s entire house on a drunken rampage.She used to make me sit with her, while she got intoxicated; I was thebartender, knowing how to mix many drinks by the age of 8. I was made to sit and listen to her piss andmoan about what a horrible life she had growing up, how horrible my grandmothertreated her, how many times she took a beating for her siblings. She couldn’tdo anything with her life because of all this?

I feel no pity for her, no remorse for any of the things Isaid to her, and absolutely no guilt for keeping my children away from her andthe rest of that part of the family. I shed a few tears this evening, crushedthat a mother could say such things to her only daughter. Then I realized, shecan only hurt me when I let her. So I stopped letting her, and continuedreading her ridiculous texts only so I could write them down, and always bereminded of WHY I chose this path; the one that leads me away from her and thatlife and into a better life without the malevolence, abuse, drugs, and violence.

I am stronger than her. I am smarter than her. I am betterthan her. And she will not torment me any longer.

A Miracle Birthday!

2011-10-12T18:23:00.000-07:00

What started out as the single most horrendous experience of my entire being, has turned into an amazing learning experience and one of the most positive situations I can possibly describe.

At a mere 22 weeks, I began having labor pains, and not just Braxton Hicks. These were full on labor contractions. Simultaneously, there were intense marital problems, which caused much fighting, heartbreak, and stress. Two stubborn hearts trying to force the magnets together… it seemed impossible.

Then, the improbable happened, I woke up, alone with 2 kids, with full-on 3-minute apart labor contractions. Stuck in the middle of nowhereville, 3 hours north of Las Vegas, where doctors travel in and out of every other week, so who knew what could happen. I called my mother-in-law. She was the first on my mind. I wasn’t certain I was having real contractions, because the pain was drastically different than with Kaida. I explained it to Becky, and she directed me to immediately hang up and call Todd, who was at work. So I did. I was a little hysterical, in pain, and scared out of my mind. He gets on the phone and I tell him to come home because I think I’m in labor, as I have a contraction while on the phone with him. He instructs me to immediately hang up and call Jeremiah, because he was off work and in town and could come to my aide. When I hung up the phone, the only person I could think of was Tamara. I called her cell. Was holding back hysterics, but she could hear right through my façade, as usual. I told her I hoped to God she wasn’t at work. She said, “What’s wrong??” I told her, “I think I’m in labor.” ‘Click’ was all I heard. 2 minutes later she was busting through my front door. She ran all the way from the Station House where her and hubby were having breakfast, leaving him behind to pay the bill. She instantly ushers me to the truck and John shows up to take care of my monkeys.

I was in pain. I was scared. And I was worried for this little man who wasn’t fully 25 weeks along. Tamara drove me to the hospital. Into the ER we went. I would not let her leave my side. She called everyone important to let them know. They had me upside down and on a Magnesium drip. She stayed. Until the ambulance drove me to the airport, she stayed. Even after Todd arrived, she stayed; held my hand, calmed my fears, made me breathe. She reminded me of her son, Dimitri. He was born too early, and the idiot Doctor made her push him out instead of taking him via c-section. The trauma through the birthing canal caused unnecessary problems. He lived 8 hours. I couldn’t be in the hospital with her, but I was there for her as much as I could be at the time. It was the most difficult experience for 2 19-year-olds to have to endure. I was reminded of this so I refused to give birth to my son in the middle of nowhere with an ER doctor who had to remain on the phone with a specialist in Vegas the entire time I was there! They waited 2 hours for the perinatal team to arrive. Then they wanted me to push him out. I looked at Tamara, could see the stubborn, disobedient look in her eyes. I looked at my husband, fear and desperation in his. So I feigned a push. Nothing happened. The ER Dr. immediately called the Sunrise specialist again. He said to have me push once again, and once again I feigned it. So, the Sunrise specialist, Dr. Miller, said “Put her on the plane with the perinatal team and send her here!”

They put me back on magnesium, back upside down, and strapped me to the gurney. Then some bad news came. Todd could not fly with me and I had to say goodbye to Tamara. He was going to rush home to get some things and fly his ass down to Vegas as quickly as our hot rod would safely allow. I remember Tamara whispering to me, “You make them give you a c-section. DEMAND IT!! I love you.”

And then I was alone with the perinatal team, and our town doc Dr. Scoccia, out to the airport and onto the plane. I had only a few hard contractions on the plane. Scoccia kept telling me to go to a happy place. And I tried.

Finally at Sunrise, and I meet the Doctors who specialized in this department: premature births. Todd shows up finally, and everything seems OK. They put another shot of steroids in me, leave me upside down which caused an excruciating headache, and wanted me to remain this way as long as possible. Around 4 am the following morning, my water broke. There was no stopping this little boy from entering the world now. And now he was exactly 25 weeks.

They were prepping me for c-section, because every time a Dr. came in, that is what I asked about, with Tamara’s words ringing in my head. The doctor said it would absolutely be a c-section unless something goes wrong to prevent it. The amniotic sac was already bulging out, and now the water was broken, so if anything else changed, there would be no c-section. I prayed. It took a few hours to prep us for surgery. I’m hysterical now, unable to calm down; he was way too young to come out, I didn’t want him to come out. They roll me into the operating room, as I keep asking for my husband. The anesthesiologist started the shots in my spine to get me numbed. I’m still a little hysterical, and mentally believe the shots aren’t working. Todd is finally holding one of my tied-down hands. The anesthesiologist is at my other side. I keep telling him the medicine isn’t working. He keeps telling me to calm down, and that it is. Todd keeps telling me to calm down. I keep asking for more numbing agents, as I hear the operating Doctors say they’ve already cut me open and were about to pull the baby out. Now I’m even more hysterical, I didn’t want it to be real; I didn’t want them to actually be taking him out, he wasn’t ready! I start freaking out. I’m crying and begging Todd, for what I’m not sure. He keeps telling me that it’s OK. The anesthesiologist gives me something that knocks me out, and I drifted away. Todd watches as the amazing perinatal team grabs our son, all 1 pound 6 ounces of him. He shoots a couple photos.

I wake up a while later in the recovery room. There was a nurse with me, and I just wanted to know how the baby was. I was really out of it; I wasn’t able to speak clearly. After a while longer they wheel me into my room and I meet up with my hubby again. I just wanted to see the baby and know he was OK. Everyone kept telling me he was just fine, but I wasn’t allowed to see him yet because I was still recouping from surgery. He was upstairs in the NICU, I was downstairs in the Mommy ward. Sixteen hours later I was finally allowed to go see him. Todd had left to go meet his parents, so the nurse wheeled me there. All I could do was cry; he was so tiny, frail, thin. He was hooked up to everything you can or can’t imagine. He was inside an incubator, intubated, IVs everywhere, mask over his face to protect his eyes from the Billy Ruben lights. I wasn’t allowed to hold him. All I could do was stare through the plexi-glass at this tiny little fighter who was born 15 weeks too soon! I was so scared for him.

For 3 months I watched him inside the NICU. At 2 weeks old I was finally able to hold him.

Within the 3 months I was only allowed to hold him a handful of times. Then the day came… he’d met all of his goals: gained weight, was drinking from a bottle, able to maintain his own body temperature, and passed the car seat test. Mommy walked out of that Hospital NICU for the last time, with Draikaiden. He was almost 5 pounds.

He still remains the strongest person I know. He fought harder than anyone I’ve ever met. Brother and Sister welcomed him home with excitement and love. We’ve watched him grow from a 1 pound 6 ounce miracle baby, into the nearly 20 pound monkey he is today.

He’s crawling all over the house, faster than most of us are ready for; he’s pulling himself up onto things to stand; he’s teething like crazy; he’s loud, he happy, and today is ONE YEAR OLD! It seemed like I would never take him home. It seemed like THIS day would never come!

But here we are! Celebrating a first birthday for the strongest person I know!

Happy Birthday Baby Boy!

Mommy Loves you more than you can imagine! To the moon and back!

Why I Can't... (Part I)

2011-08-16T10:01:00.000-07:00

You need a license to drive a car, a motorcycle, and even one of those tiny little mopeds. You need a license to shoot an animal AND an annual permit and can only do it in a specific time of year. You need a license to own a gun. You need a license to run a business, just to sell things to other people. You need a license to build something and special permits that are appropriate for each county. You need a license to practice medicine. If you’re specially trained well enough, like Chuck Norris, you even need to register your hands as weapons. And you even need a license to catch a silly little fish. There are probably so many other things you need a license for that I am not aware of, so many trivial things that require a license. But any idiot can conceive a child and be responsible for that child’s life. Fish are more important than babies in the government’s eyes, apparently.

Anyone can make a baby. And most women think that the 40 weeks of carrying the child, and the labor we go through, automatically earns you the title of “Mother.”

But it doesn’t.

Because any crack-head can carry a baby, give birth, then leave that child in a dumpster. Any teenage couple can conceive a child, give birth in a park right across the street from a hospital, then have a friend help you run over that baby and hide the evidence of any such pregnancy until one of the 3 finally cracks and tells officials. Just anyone can kill her own child, wait 30 days before reporting her missing, and still get away with the murder AND walk free among us.

Mother is a name that is earned.

Mother is a title that deserves more respect than it gets.

“Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children.”

That quote holds more truth than most people realize, or even care to understand. A mother is the first person a baby comes to know. In most cases, her face is the first they recognize. Her voice is the most comforting. She is the guide, the teacher, the nurturer. Her kisses heal everything. Her hugs make all the hurt go away. She knows everything, and has all the answers. She listens to you, hears what your saying, and even hears what you’re not saying. She sees every freckle, is aware of every scar and how it happened, every memory is hers. She knows your cries, your fears, your emotions better than anyone. She’s a hero, an idol, an angel.

Mother isn’t just a person who gives birth, and she certainly isn’t the person who’s supposed to walk away, run away, hide in a bottle, or leave you with everyone who will take you while she lives a separate life.

"Things aren't the way they were before
You wouldn't even recognize me anymore
Not that you knew me back then
But it all comes back to me in the end...

...I've put my trust in you
Pushed as far as I can go
And for all this
There's only one thing you should know

I tried so hard and got so far
But in the end it doesn't even matter
I had to fall to lose it all
But in the end it doesn't even matter"

~linkin park

A Little of This and Some of That

2011-05-03T17:01:00.000-07:00

So a few things here. Gonna just cram it all into one post, so just deal with my rambling!

First of All, Baby Draikaiden's ROP is GONE! Gone, gone, GONE!!!! YAY!!!
He has had bronchitis the past few weeks, now that the other 2 have recovered from RSV. Seriously if it's not one thing it's another!

Second, Draven is getting minor surgery this Friday for an undescending testicle. Poor little guy. But I think it's better NOW than when he's in his teens and will remember it more. It's out-patient surgery, so everything should be fine... knock on wood.

Third, I woke up 2 Wednesday's ago with a crink in my neck that has turned into the most horrible pain I have felt in my spine since I broke my back nearly 7 years ago! Todd has massaged it to the point that it feels bruised, then he sent me to a professional Massage Therapist, I've been in the Hot Tub, taken a hot bath with minerals, freakishly laid on ice packs, taken muscle relaxers and Lortabs, even attempted to hang upside-down (yes you read that correctly). And then we went to the Chiropractor who I thought of ALL people would FIX it. Him and the other Dr. in that office tried a couple times each, they put me on a stretching table, massage table, electrotherapy, ice, tried adjusting again... and STILL it FREAKING hurt like hell when darling hubby and I had our date night to go see Devil Driver and Danzig. Went the ER here and got stronger meds that are making me pretty loopy and knocking me out, thankfully Daddy is off all week and Uncle Derek is with us once again, so being knocked out for a few hours isn't so bad! But it is seriously depressing having something wrong with me ALL. THE. FREAKING. TIME! I was just starting to feel better after the walking pneumonia and got back into a workout routine and now this! It makes me CRY! AAAAHHHH!

Fourth, I'm not able to accomplish much lately, mostly because of the physical ailments that I have had just about enough of! Jana is STILL waiting on her picture and it's sad because I have the smallest touching up to do and then just need to put it all back together for her! Poor Jana! I swear I'll have it done this century!

Fifth, Easter was Fantastic! Besides my nagging pain, we had a wonderful day. Todd's youngest brother was released from incarceration Easter Sunday and we also celebrated Todd's Birthday that day. Yummy food, it was the kids' VERY first Easter Baskets and Egg hunt. They had a blast! Grandma and Papa were here! Great times.

And the last thing I want to mention to all my followers is that there is going to be a change with my page. My heart is on designing. My ultimate goal in life is to have a major Scrapbook company where everyone WANTS to buy my designs. I love to write, but I will be changing this blog to a crafting blog. I want to show off my paper designs, I have 8 kits completed and NO money to have them printed! I need to start somewhere. So since that is where my heart is, I will be writing much less, complaining much less, and doing layouts with my papers, some digital, and sometimes I'll be using other peoples kits too. I will always give credit where credit is due, and you will know where you can find the elements I use. Someday I hope to have all of my designs in the big scrapbook stores.

So, this may be the last actual blog post from me, from now on they will be about crafting. I will be revamping my site and possibly giving it a new name. I hope to keep your interests since my layouts will still contain stories of things that go on in our daily lives. And I may also pick 1 day a week to have a regular blog post. If I had the energy, time, and focus to have 2 blogs I certainly would, but the baby still needs a lot of my attention and Kaida is getting ready for homeschooling.

Here are some Easter photos of my cute monkeys! I hope everyone else had a Wonderful Holiday!

Because She Listened

2011-04-20T06:13:00.000-07:00

I used to fold her undergarments, things like pantyhose, slips, granny panties, into interesting shapes to make furniture for my dolls. I’d create my own little version of a dollhouse on the floor in the corner of her bedroom. While my brother was at school, it was just she and I.

I had a real porcelain tea set, real miniature cups, saucers, a teakettle, and sugar bowl. She’d fill the teakettle with warm tea, bring out cheese and crackers, put sugar cubes in the sugar bowl, and I’d have a real tea party with my grandma.

She taught me how to play Uno, Rummy, and how to shuffle cards the cool way. She’d brush my hair, then I’d brush hers and play with it while she watched TV. On the nights I got to spend the night with her, we’d stay up late watching Disney channel waiting to see if DTV would come on. That was my favorite. It was a filler in between shows, music videos of fun kids songs put to Disney cartoons but it only came on late at night.

My brother and I never call her “Grandma.” I’ve heard a few excuses as to why, but whatever the reason, we grew up calling her by her first name, Peggy.

I remember she started to lose her vision when I was real young. But she still tried to do everything with me anyways. When I was a teen I lived with her. She may have had severe vision problems but could easily hit a grown man square in the head with anything in reach and from across the room when his smart mouth pissed her off.

She was the one all the grandkids went to for hugs and kisses; lots and lots of hugs and kisses. I was the eldest girl, my brother the eldest. He seemed to always be off doing his own thing. Teenage boys are too cool for family things.

She was encouraging, always telling us grandkids that we could do anything. She didn’t want us giving up. She was patient, very patient with the younger ones; I envied that when I was ready to ring their little necks! She was faith-filled, which was very… complicated. We had hardships, and I can’t emphasize that enough, but she always seemed, to me, to have faith in God. It was confusing to me while inspiring. But this is what I loved about my grandma the most: she listened.

All the other adults in the family couldn’t care less about what any of us kids had to say. Our opinions, our thoughts, our feelings, our dreams meant nothing to any of them. The younger ones were just in the way all the time, and the older of us were there to do chores and watch the little ones. But Peggy listened. She listened to us all from the time we said our first words and she did her best to hear every word. She would stop what she was doing and bend down to hear instead of yelling at someone to get out of the room and go play.

Everyday when I’d come home from high school, she’d sit with me and ask me about my day. Some days were less exciting then others. But no matter what, she’d sit there and listen to my response. After every outing, school event or trip, group date night, date night, prom, no matter what social gathering it was, or how late I got home, she would sit up with me and listen to my excitement as I retold my adventures. I was never afraid to tell her anything. I told her of boys I liked, well the plural part didn’t last long before I met my high school sweetheart. She knew of all my friends, of people I didn’t like, people I didn’t trust, favorite teachers, my dreams, my college plans, everything.

Teenage girls can talk a lot, trust me, and that didn’t seem to ever bother her. She never once told me to come back later because her favorite show was coming on. She listened to me gab and gab about everything and nothing, and more importantly, she heard me. She was there for me in a time when every teenage girl needs someone. And that really meant the world to me.

I’m referring to her in the past tense not because she has past on, because she hasn’t, but because this is from my memory of years ago. After school I left, and basically haven’t been back since. I’ve still called my grandma and talked with her for hours on the phone, she’s still the same person. I’m just referring to her from my youth. As a matter of fact, today is her birthday. For her sake, I’m leaving the number out (but the Neanderthals would be offended if they weren’t mentioned since they built the hospital she was born in).

I don’t get to see her much, rarely actually. We live in separate states now. Life keeps us apart. But I do love her very much and wish her all the best on this birthday!

Happy Birthday Peggy!

It was Far Too Perfect to Have Planned

2011-04-07T10:21:00.000-07:00

Draven runs down the hall, screaming in pain, and straight into Daddy’s arms. Daddy was sitting on the couch, I was at the dining room table. I looked over at my husband, a little shocked at Draven’s actions since he’s such a Momma’s boy. He always comes to me when he’s crying. Always!

Todd looked at me, just as confused and started comforting Draven, asking him what was wrong.

“I-I-I-I huuurrr myyyyyy aaaaahhhhhhhh!!!!”

I chuckled and said calmly to Todd, “That was a little weird.”

Kaida, darling Kaida, sees the exchange of glances between Daddy and I. She’s standing in between us trying to balance herself on the arm of the couch.

“Draven!!! Don’t you KNOW who that IS???” she says, a little perplexed herself.

I laughed. I didn’t get a chance to look at Daddy’s face before the rest of it came out.

“That’s Daddy!!! He’s a JackASS!!!!”

I buried my face in my arms on the table, laughing hysterically. For several minutes. Kaida was giggling behind me. Draven was still crying, whining really. And Todd was silent. After I composed myself, I stood up and looked at Todd. He was not amused in the least bit. I laughed even harder!

Did I feel bad? No, not even slightly! Why you ask? Because my darling, sweet, loving husband taught my kids to call Mommy a Cow! And they even mooooo at me. So having my dear 4-year-old daughter say this at random was more perfect than I could have planned myself! Because Daddy is, indeed, a Jackass!

I am NOT Nice to Stupid People

2011-04-04T13:04:00.001-07:00

So we had a long day in Vegas, that’s my excuse. We’d spent the night before with Jana, so the day wasn’t AS bad as normal Vegas trips are when I drive down and back and do all the doc visits AND shopping in one day. But still, 2 doc visits, one of them informing me that my 3-year-old needs surgery on his un-descending testicle, driving all over Vegas, and then shopping with all three kids by myself yet again still wore me out. We did get to have lunch with Crystal, which was a plus!

By the end of the visit to Wal-mart, near the end of the day, I was literally ready to take someone’s head off, and one unfortunate, and not very bright, woman happened to be in my path. We had been in the store for at least 2 hours, I had all three kids in 1 cart with blankets and pillows and I was pulling a 2^nd cart along for the groceries. I was cranky, hungry, and spent, as were all three monkeys.

Naturally, when you approach the check-out lines, you’re searching for the shortest line AND the emptiest cart in that line. So I found the shortest line, 2 people, and each of those people had just a couple things thrown onto the conveyor belt. It was a staggered register set-up, where you had to walk past one register to get to the other. I was making a B-line for register 6. There were about 4 people in line 5, the line I had to walk past to get to the emptier line. Each of them had a cart that was at least half full, and the woman at the end of the line had a full cart. She was blocking the path to register 6. This was a problem that instantly set me off.

I wasn’t rude, at first, but sharply I asked her which line she was in.

She looks at me, a little clueless, and says, “Oh, I’m just waiting here to see which line was going to call me up first.”

In my head I busted up laughing. I looked at her, like she was a total idiot, and said sternly, “Um, no, you’re either in lane 5 or you’re in lane 6.”

And she argued, looking at me like I’D just fell out of a banana tree, “Well, no, I was just going to wait here until it was my turn and…”

And I very rudely, and sternly interrupted her idiocy, “Look around! You’re in Wal-mart! That’s NOT how it works HERE!”

And she tried to argue some more, looking at me as though she’d never been to Wal-mart before and encountered real people, “Well, these lines are just…”

And I was done arguing. “Look lady, pick a line, or move out of the way so I can get through!”

And she slowly rolled her eyes as though she were thinking what a crazy freaking person I was knowing she’d better not open her mouth again. She walked up to the guy in front of her and motioned for HIM to go up to the other line! So, instead of ramming my cart into her body and smashing her up against her own cart, I quickly walked away, searching for another line, which I found at the other end of the store!

And this couldn’t have turned out MORE embarrassing for me. It takes A LOT to offend or embarrass me. But let me rewind just a little bit. About 40 minutes into our shopping trip, everyone had to use the bathroom. So I went to the back of the store where they have the family restroom. I can push the entire cart filled with children into the bathroom, and not have to worry about any of our stuff getting stolen or having to carry the 2 pillows, 2 blankets, 5 baby blankets, diaper bag, and baby into a single stall while I am trying to listen to the other 2, making sure they are doing what they are supposed to and are not sneaking off or getting knapped.

We get to the bathroom area, and the door is locked. Of course! So we wait. For about 15 minutes. I checked the door during that time once more, just to be sure and just to make a little extra noise for whomever was inside. Most people have been in Wal-mart. This area in the back also has regular restrooms, about 15 feet away from this ONE family bathroom. But I can’t take the cart in there, hence the waiting. So, after the 15 minutes, ONE man walks out of this bathroom! I shot him a look that should have burned his skin right off. He apologized quickly and held the door opened for us. When I got the door closed on the inside, I cursed, calling the guy a very bad word, beginning with a BIG F!

OK, now moving forward. We get to the register, the 2^nd attempt at one. The kid was about 90% finished ringing us up, and Kaida points to him, she’s about 2 feet away from him, in perfect hearing distance, and says, “Mommy, that guy is a Freak!”

Pretending that I am not completely mortified, I say calmly, “Honey, that’s not nice, why would you call him a freak??”

The kid is just smiling at us like it doesn’t matter to him that she just blatantly called him a freak.

Kaida says, with a huge smile on her face, “Because, he’s a freak Mommy!”

I kinda grin and say, “Has he done something to make you think he’s a freak?”

The kid is still smiling, ringing up our groceries.

Kaida grins really big at me, then at him, then at me again and says, “Yes.”

Trying to be stern, and not laugh, and not make it obvious how awful I feel for this kid, I say, “Honey, what has he done to make you think he’s a freak?”

The kid is still smiling, looking right at me.

Kaida is still grinning and says, “The bathroom Mommy!”

Now I AM laughing. I say, “OH! He’s not the same guy we saw back there honey, and ‘freak’ wasn’t actually the word Mommy used!”

The kid was still smiling. Kaida was too. I’m trying to pretend I’m not completely mortified as I take my receipt and rush away, telling him to have a wonderful night! Now to clarify for those who couldn’t ‘see’ the issue: both of the guys were African American. A distinction not easily made by a 4-year-old, apparently they looked like the same guy to her. Thankfully the kid at the register just didn’t care, or was just a really nice kid and didn’t mind what little kids said! He was sooooo polite! But I couldn’t walk away fast enough!

Eye Doctor Drama Part 3

2011-03-21T08:27:00.001-07:00

Well apparently, you need to have a license in Crazy to be a pediatric eye doctor or to even work for one. To get caught up on this drama, read this first.

I made a brief update a couple weeks ago about Draikaiden’s 2^nd opinion for his Stage 1 ROP. ROP is Retinopathy of Prematurity and has several different stages. It means that his eyes were born prematurely. Hmm, imagine that, a preemie with premature eyes. At Stage 1 and Stage 2 there is NO TREATMENT! Stages 3-5 vary in the ways they can treat it. I will say it again before I go on with the story, Draikaiden has STAGE 1.

So, hopefully everyone is caught up, cause you’ll kinda need to be. The update I gave last week was brief, now I’m going to give you more detail plus include what has happened since.

We made it to the new eye Dr two weeks ago. Me and the kids were literally the first people there. I already had Draikaiden’s paperwork filled out since I picked it up the week before. We sat down and waited about 45 minutes before they took us back. Then we waited for another 15 minutes in the room. The nurse came back in and asked questions while filling in the answers on a computer. It took about 20 minutes. Then she put drops in his eyes for dilating. Then sent us back out into the waiting room. After about 30 more minutes another nurse came out and put more drops in his eyes. Then we waited some more. Finally it was our turn to go back, again. And wait, again.

This time the Dr. came in. Nice woman. Asked the same questions her nurse asked us an hour ago! I told her why we were there, that I didn’t trust the other eye Dr. and wanted a 2^nd opinion. She told me she wasn’t sure if she wanted to start picking up ROP patients (even though it is stated ON her business cards that she treats ROP patients). She talked to me for about 15 minutes, I briefly told her why I didn’t trust the other eye Dr. Near the end of the conversation she tells me that she doesn’t have the instrument there to look at an ROP patient.

After 2-and-a-half hours of making us wait and putting chemicals in my son’s eyes, THEN she tells me she doesn’t have the right equipment!!!! W.T.F???

She said she didn’t know there was an ROP patient coming in today.

My jaw dropped. I very calmly said, “I made the appointment 3 weeks ago!! And when I called I specifically told the woman on the phone that I wanted a 2^nd opinion on my son’s ROP!!!”

She said it wasn’t my fault, it was her office staff’s fault for not informing her. Then she offered to call that other eye Dr. and make an appointment for us.

I laughed and said, “I will drive all the way to California before I ever take my son back over to see him again.”

So then she asked if we could wait, EVEN LONGER, and NOW she’ll send someone across town to pick it up from her other office!

It was a few minutes before 10 am, we’d been sitting in that office for 2-and-a-half hours already, and Draikaiden was about to miss his physical therapy appointment thanks to this, because it was scheduled for 10 am. I told her we’d leave to go to another appointment that he had for that day, and I’d leave my cell number. If they got the instrument there, they could call me, otherwise I wasn’t coming back.

So we made it to his 3^rd appointment for the day, he missed physical therapy, and then back to that horrid eye Dr.’s office. We began our wait, 30 minutes pass and a nurse comes out to put drops in his eyes, again. I asked how long it was going to take because we needed to be in Henderson for more Dr.’s appointments by 3 and it was 1:30 now. Another 10 minutes pass and they take us back into a room where we wait for 15 more. The Dr. comes in, preps the baby for the exam and the kids and I go wait in the other room. The exam takes about 15 minutes, then she explains things to me more thoroughly than the other eye Dr. ever did. She says she’ll see him back in 2 weeks. I tell her that is perfect because that is when we have his RSV shot scheduled for, so we would be in town. And I make it clear to her that the day we’re coming back IS a Tuesday. She said earlier she’d prefer to see him in the other office because it’s larger and better equipped but she’s only there Mondays and Thursdays. She said that Tuesday would be fine since we were coming into town, but appointments thereafter would need to be at the other office. OK, fine with me.

Three days later, after I had arranged all the other appointments for the day, I called her office to schedule. The receptionist said the Dr. was no longer seeing ROP patients.

“She JUST saw my son 3 days ago and said she’d see him again in two weeks!” I argued.

The woman told me she just received an email that morning from the office manager and the decision was final. I told her she needed to call the Dr. then because I was promised at least one more visit for my son and I wasn’t taking ‘No’ for an answer. She said she’d call me right back. When she called she said she could only schedule for the other office, which was only for Mon or Thurs. I was irritated but done arguing. I would schedule for the next time we went down after he got his RSV shot because that was more important for him and it was already a fiasco getting that shot approved.

So, the day came, we were in Vegas last Tuesday the 15^th. It was about 2:30 pm and I am sitting in the truck with the kids while Derek and Todd ran into Walmart for a couple of things. We were in Henderson a couple miles from the kids’ pediatrician because that was our next stop, but not for another hour. The eye Dr.’s office calls me wondering why we don’t have an appointment scheduled for this week because the Dr. was expecting to see Draikaiden. So I explain to her why we didn’t have an appointment, and that I tried to get one. She asks me to hold and puts someone else on the phone. I have to go through the conversation again.

I tell her, “Look, I’m frustrated about it because we are IN Vegas RIGHT now!”

So she puts me on hold, again, and puts the Dr. on the phone. So for the 3^rd time, I go through the conversation.

The Dr. is trying to make it seem like it’s MY fault that there is no appointment. She said that I should have told her receptionist to let me talk to her. I guess she’s right, but she should have educated her staff. I’m getting extremely frustrated with her and say, “I wanted him to be seen today and I tried to make the appointment, but YOUR office refused to make the appointment!”

She starts going off on the same spiel that the other receptionist from the other office did about how he NEEDS to be seen, except this time there was much more guilt! Since SHE took over his care, HE was HER responsibility and it was imperative for us to bring him in!

So I said, “I tried to get the appointment for today, it’s not MY fault you didn’t educate your staff!”

She asked if we could make it to the office that day. I told her we were in Henderson, about to go to the Pediatrician and if he could get us in early we MIGHT be able to make it there by 5. Then she pressured me like some insane car salesman to make an appointment for Friday, when I already knew there was NO way we could afford to come back on Friday. I had already told both of the Tag Team members I spoke to before her that we couldn’t make it back into Vegas for another 2 weeks. Then we hung up.

At 4:30 we’re still sitting at the Pediatrician’s office. I just LOVE this Dr.! So do the kids! He rocks! During our wait I had filled in hubby about the eye Dr. And being the loving wife I am, I made HIM call and let her office know we weren’t going to make it there by 5 and to cancel the Friday appointment. He’s put on hold 3 different times and has to talk to 3 different people just like I did. LOL! But he’s not so patient. This is when Derek and I start laughing our asses off and get an official warning from the Pediatrician’s Office to quiet down because the entire office could here everything my husband was saying.

I cannot quote the conversation because I don’t know verbatim what the Dr. said. And with each sentence Todd got louder, and louder, and louder. His face got red, his eyes turned red, smoke came out of his ears and nostrils, and he started breathing fire. He said multiple times that we CANNOT afford to come back until the 28^th and would be glad to schedule an appointment for that day. He repeatedly said that his wife tried to get an appointment for today but her office wouldn’t schedule it. I think he asked her twice if she heard anything he was saying. I can’t remember some of what he said because I was laughing so hard (I took my anxiety pills shortly before this Dr. appointment). But then she crossed a line. She told my husband that he was being selfish and adamant about himself and he needed to think about his son, it wasn’t up to HIM when to take his son to see a DR. it was up to HER because SHE was the Dr. who was treating him and SHE knew Better! So he told her he didn’t care what degrees she had hanging on her wall or what any of her license’s said, she obviously didn’t have any common sense and could go F#%* herself! Then he hung up the phone.

My jaw dropped and Derek and I just stared at him. After he told us what she said I could understand why he said it.

Oddly enough, the following night around 7:30 pm, her office manager left a message on our machine saying they had an appointment available for the 28^th for our son, and when we call the office we are to ask for her and speak only to her. She called the next day too.

We pondered about it. I really wasn’t sure I wanted to take him back. But I called anyways. I spoke to the Dr. She said she had a very heated discussion with my husband and usually after something like that she would turn away care for a child, but in this case, she felt she needed to see the baby again.

I asked why her and the other eye Dr. are DEMANDING we bring him in every 2 weeks and harassing us if we can’t make it. She said because it is a law of the State Medical Board. I told her we’d done our own research and know that he cannot be treated at Stage 1 or Stage 2, so what is wrong with her seeing him in 3 weeks? She doesn’t speak perfect English, so I’m not clear about everything she said, but it didn’t make any sense. She said his eyes improved between the last time the other Dr. saw him and the 1^st time she saw him. I tried to tell her we weren’t trying to be jerks and neglect our son and that we are in Vegas as much as we can possibly afford. Plus we have 2 other kids who need taken care of also so sometimes appointment dates just don’t line up and sometimes we just don’t have the money because of one reason or another. I don’t think she understood because she just kept saying he needs to be seen every two weeks.

So I am extremely frustrated about the way the Pediatric Eye Dr.’s treat parents. We haven’t had these problems with ANY other Dr.’s at ALL!!! And I am very frustrated with the incompetence in HER office. Draikaiden’s vessels are branching out around his eyeballs and that is exactly what his pediatrician said they’d do. He also said that he is OUR baby and it is OUR choice who we want to take him to. My husband had a great point. What happens to those people, you know those ones who don’t believe in Doctors at all? It’s actually against their religion to take their children to see any doctors. So if they can chose to not see any doctors ever, why can’t we choose take him to the eye doctor when we can afford it?

When the World Became Smaller

2011-03-19T10:36:00.000-07:00

It’s funny how life, how just simply living, changes and shapes us. From one experience to the next we slowly become different people. Whether they are good experiences, bad ones, or neutral, they all change us in little ways.

When I was younger, I was afraid of everything. I had very little guidance, and even less moral guidance. When I was a teen I finally started learning about God. I tried to follow positive influences, but was still surrounded by the previous mentioned “guidance.” After I turned 18, everything became my decision. I wasn’t sure I wanted to, or even could, believe in God anymore, so I wandered off. There were mistakes, the bindings of new friendships, reunions with old ones, lesson after lesson. That seems to be a constant in life. No matter what you’re going through, there is some type of lesson to be learned. Some of us will actually learn the lesson and avoid the mistakes in the future; others will keep repeating the mistakes, never truly learning anything at all. But that is the beauty of life: you will always have another chance.

One thing I did learn for myself was that I needed to learn everything FOR myself. I needed the experiences. My husband and I were perfectly matched. We were both into rock music, vampires, death, cemeteries, and pretty much anything gothic. We had repressed feelings from our childhoods, wrote of sinister things, and decorated with black, dragons, gargoyles, and swords. And neither of us really believed in religion and were both doubtful of God.

Then a day came that changed my every aspect on life. Four words were all I heard on the other end of the line. Four little words stopped my world from turning.

Linda called us from across town around 4 am. She was crying and choked out, “Your Dad is dead.”

That one experience has changed me forever. It’s not exactly something you can learn from, but it is something you can grow from, strangely.

I dropped the phone, dropped to my knees as Todd tried to catch me and grab the phone. He asked Linda what was going on and she told him. He told her we’d be right over. Then he kneeled on the kitchen floor, holding me while I cried hysterically and repeated deliriously that it wasn’t real. I don’t know how long we sat there on the floor before I started to think about Linda being alone. So we collected ourselves, and headed out to Dad’s house.

The cops were already there. Todd parked the car and I jumped out, started running towards the house. Just as I got to the front porch I stopped, broke into hysterics again. There was no way I could go in that house. Todd went in to see Linda and let her know we were there. I stayed outside until the ambulance took Dad away. They say most people need to see the body in order to get closure but that was just a memory I didn’t want. I was happy with the last memory I had of Dad, and I was going to keep it that way.

The world seemed smaller after that day. March 19, 2005. Things I thought were so important just weren’t anymore. I’d never felt more empty in all my life.

It’s been six years. I’m no longer fascinated with death. If anything, I fear it. People have their theories on what happens after death, but all we actually know is that no one really comes back. They’re here one day, and then they’re gone. Just… gone. And I also believe in Heaven now. Because the thought of an absolute end, where I’ll never see Dad again, well, those thoughts just don’t fit in my head.

I don’t think death is evil. It’s natural. Death is just unforgiving. There is no second chance. There is no rewind button. There is no point you can just start over and try again. There is no lesson learned. There is no chance of changing all the things you wish you could have changed about the time you had with the person who died. You can’t go back and spend more time with them, tell them how wonderful they are, and how blessed you’ve been to have them in your life. You can’t tell them that you wouldn’t trade them for any other father in the world.

There were a few people who were pretty upset that I was the one who lived near Dad, that I chose to move 3000 miles away from everything and everyone else I’d ever known. I was told who he was by everyone in my life my whole life. It was my decision to find out for myself, to live near him, and get to know him. That was the part of me that needed to learn things for myself. I learned firsthand what a wonderful man he was. Six years was our time, and even though our time was short, I wouldn’t change it for anything you could offer.

Six years may seem like a long time to most people for someone to be grieving, but for pain that deep time has no meaning. It’s a hurt that doesn’t end with a void nothing else can fill. I still cry every time I look through our wedding album. The wedding was 3 months before Dad passed. I had to leave the room the one time my mother-in-law put in our wedding video. It’s hard looking at any of his photos. I can’t listen to my Dad singing his classic songs. I become a total nutcase the week of his death every year, and on his birthday. When I try to explain to my kids where Grandpa is, I break down every time. And thankfully, Todd will let me cry, and just tell me how much Dad loved me. He’s never once made me feel bad for just missing my Dad. I am fortunate to have him.

I don’t fear my Dad’s memory. I can’t think of a single bad one about him. And it’s not that I don’t want to remember him, because I do. I just don’t want to remember that he’s gone.

We had a slight malfunction with my wedding dress, so everyone who

was there did what they could think of to get it fixed!

We danced to Rope the Moon, by John Michael Montgomery.

It was the song I dedicated to him at the wedding.

“My father didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.”

~Clarence B. Kelland

The Strongest Person I Know

2011-03-14T09:11:00.000-07:00

He started out so small, much smaller than most of us did. One pound six ounces. His birth is a long story itself, you can find it here if you’re new to me. He was intubated and incubated, had pick lines, IVs, oxygen tubes, blind folds to protect his eyes from the jaundice lamp (I forget now what they call that). Many blood transfusions, supplement drips, and then they started feedings at an incredibly slow rate. He was so frail, so skinny, and still stronger than most people even at that stage. He fought for his little life with every ounce of strength he had, which was approximately 26 ounces.

I was neither brave nor strong. Every time I’d walk up to his incubator I’d instantly start crying. I’d try to read him happy, cheerful books and break out in tears. When it was time to go, I’d cry some more. How and where he got his strength is still beyond my comprehension. I did pray for it though. I wasn’t allowed to hold him much or touch him often. But I talked to him and sang to him as much as I could.

The three months went by surprisingly fast. Before I knew it we were bringing him home. That was a most pleasant day, you can read about it here. I was nervous, for many reasons. What if he stops breathing? What if they missed something in all the tests they’d done? Too many what-ifs really! I tried not to drive myself crazy with them, I was just happy to be walking out of the hospital with the rest of me.

He has been home for 2 months now and things are most definitely different with a preemie.

When I brought Kaida home, she was 10 pounds 13 ounces! And she was my first. She was chunky and not really fragile at all. Draven was 8 pounds 1 ounce. I thought HE was fragile! They were both on time and normal with milestones. They ate normally, did tummy time well, started pushing themselves up, reaching for things, holding their own bottles, rolling over, and sitting up by themselves all by the time they were 5 months. Kaida was the quicker one, started crawling at 6 months and walking at 9. She wants to be a big girl now with boobs and a purse full of money too! LOL!

But Draikaiden is completely different from both of them. When he came home he was just over 5 pounds and even preemie clothes were too big on him. Some of the Dr.’s and therapists tell me to go by his adjusted age, which means to go from his actual due date. His due date was January 25^th. That would make him almost 7 weeks old. Some of the Dr.’s say not to get used to doing that because it’s a bad habit! So according to them, he’s really 5 months old since he was actually born on October 12^th.

So, he is 5 months old and not quite 10 pounds. He can hold his head up for several minutes but gets tired very easily. He’s getting better with tummy time, but doesn’t consistently push himself up on his arms. He doesn’t rollover unless he pushes himself up high enough that he basically falls over onto his side. He doesn’t reach for things, and he rarely holds onto something you put in his hand unless it’s a finger, and he does have quite a grip. He is looking around and studying things more and more everyday, and each day we get more and more smiles out of him. He doesn’t cry a lot, unless he is hungry or needs changed (he’s VERY particular about that). He will follow sounds with his head, and completely LOVES his big sister. His face literally lights up when she is there to play with him. He smiles at her the most. He’s noticing when things move further and further away, which I see as a good sign, his ROP must be improving!

He has the cutest phony cry and makes the cutest phony face with it. But also has a very persistent cry, just like Draven did, when he is serious. His personality is really emerging.

Whether or not I’m adjusting his age according to any of the experts, he’s really not falling into either category anyways. At first I was getting upset about it. I was feeling insanely guilty about his early birth being my fault. Then a wise mom told me that is just wasted energy. Things happen for a reason, and I was on bed rest, doing all I could to stop the contractions. He came when he was supposed to and he is perfectly fine. And even though the last 5 months have been extremely difficult, I’ve learned so much from this little guy. He’s made me a stronger person. And I’m going to do everything in my power to make him as strong as he can be as well as his sister and brother.

He’ll do things when he is ready to, and that is perfectly fine with Daddy and I. We’re not going to rush him. If someone would have told DaVinci to hurry up and just get the damn thing done already, the Mona Lisa might not have turned out to be such a masterpiece.

Here are a few more photos from the time he was in the hospital up to now.

What is Priceless to You?

2011-03-11T06:43:00.000-08:00

1 completely wasted trip for Draven to see an incompetent, uneducated, cranky, and unhelpful Nurse Practitioner: approximately $120 and mostly covered by insurance.

1 roundtrip to Las Vegas; fuel, food, drinks, and shopping: $380.

Appointments for all three kids to see an amazing Pediatrician who diagnosed the older two with RSV: approximately $600 and mostly covered by insurance.

1 prescription for Albuterol Sulfate vials for Nebulizer: $284.85 completely covered by insurance.

1 prescription for Pulmicort Nebulizer Medication: $249.24 completely covered by insurance.

2 prescriptions for Singulair for all three kids: $278.34 (out of pocket expense $55.66).

1 prescription for Cefdinir, antibiotic for the older two: $143.54 completely covered by insurance.

1 prescription for Nasonex for the older two: $118.62 (out of pocket expense $21.77).

1 visit to the Dr. for the hubby: approximately $120 mostly covered by insurance.

1 prescription of an antibiotic that did absolutely nothing for him: $21.60 covered by insurance.

1 visit for me to the Dr. where I learned my hubby and I have either bronchitis or walking pneumonia and I have lost 10 pounds (WOOHOO!!): approximately $120 mostly covered by insurance.

2 boxes of Girl Scout Thin Mint Cookies, because I just can't resist this cookie and they make the world a better place!: $8

2 prescriptions for my husband and I, 10 pills for us each of Levaquin, an antibiotic strong enough to slow anthrax after exposure: $371.12 (out of pocket expense $74.22).

1 prescription for both my husband and I of a strong cough syrup, Cheratussin: $4.43 covered by insurance.

1 upcoming roundtrip to Vegas WITH the hubby whether he likes it or not; fuel, food, shopping, lunch with Uncle Derek, and 5 Dr.’s appointments: approximately $500.

1 upcoming visit to the Lung Specialist for the Baby: approximately $250 mostly covered by insurance.

1 upcoming RSV shot for the Baby: $2100 and COMPLETELY covered by insurance.

Having a husband who has an amazing job with amazing insurance and who is willing to take care of his family in THIS way: PRICELESS!!!

Having the abilities to take care of our family and see a Dr. when we need to and get the medications we all need, and being able to prevent the baby from contracting RSV and be hospitalized again: PRICELESS!!!

And thinking of how the Obama administration is planning on changing all of this so that we will no longer have these freedoms, so that all of the people who voted him into office and the people who voted against him, basically ALL the people except those sitting on their high towers in government offices will no longer be able to take care of their families like this, makes me want triple my anxiety medication before I send THEM all the bills I have from Draikaiden’s 3 month stay in the hospital and every visit thereafter and see how they think we should pay for it without insurance! Maybe they’ll be so kind as to pay for it themselves, since I am sure that with 2 or 3 paychecks they can cover the million dollars worth of expenses. No wait, I believe according to his thinking, Draikaiden being born so early, he didn’t deserve the care and treatment he got, so he would have simply ordered the machines to be shut down. Or is that only with the elderly? I’d like to see ALL of Congress and every member of the government participate in this upcoming Health Care Hell they are about to put us through. Then I bet it wouldn’t last long at all.

A Solution to My Problem

2011-03-09T09:29:00.000-08:00

And so I saw the Doctor. Well, technically, she’s a Nurse Practitioner, one of the most comfortable medical personnel I’ve ever spoken with. I am posting this for all my friends who were interested in knowing what they can do for themselves in this similar situation. You will need to see a Dr., but you can ask them about this method! She asked me all kinds of questions about what’s going on in my head and in my life. She spoke with me for 45 minutes!! I just LOVE her! I hope they never take her away from Tonopah!

She’s a riot. I told her how little the hubby helps, how much he whines that he has to go to work so he doesn’t think he needs to do anything around the house or with the kids, and then I told her what he does at work! She said if she knew how to fix these kinds of things, she’d still be married! ROFL!

I let her know that when he is with the kids nobody is actually being taken care of, including the house, and it pisses me off. He doesn’t listen, he doesn’t respond to me, and when he does his only response is that I am only worrying about the wrong thing, Mom things are things I shouldn’t worry about. I told her how irrational I feel ALL the time, how I can’t control my emotions, I go from happy, to sad, to looking for a murder weapon in a 60 second period. I told her how unresponsive I am to everything, I don’t want to participate in anything, I cry over everything and nothing all the time, and I drive even myself crazy. I gave her some history, let her know about the traumatic birth of the baby. Let her know about past attempts with anti-depressants after having Draven. I could have talked to her all day over drinks easily, she is just awesome! Really!

But anyways, she thought that an anti-depressant would not be good for me. Especially since I tried 2 different ones in the past, and 2 different doses of 1 of those, and none had any effect on me. And it had meaning that when I stopped taking them, I had absolutely no side effects. When my hubby misses one or two, he has insane side effects. And I also told on him! I let her know that he cuts his pills in half, so he isn’t taking his full dose! She was upset and told me what to tell him to get him to take the full dose, and I think it worked! LOL! And trust me, he NEEDS them! It’s either he takes them, or I kill him, Sorry Becky! :)

So, what she suggested is an anxiety pill. Since I have good moments, I mean, I will go almost a whole day feeling great, not getting set off, crying, or feeling down. She said when I feel my emotions getting out of control, I can just take one of these pills and it will calm my emotions and my nerves so that I don’t want to kill my husband (her words exactly). She wants me to try this for a month and see how I like it. When I go back to see her, if I want to change things, there is an anti-depressant that is mostly for women. It increases the endorphins, and two other things in the brain that I can’t remember now that you use up when you are stressed. It’s mostly used for women, and I’m not sure why, but I told her she can prescribe me two bottles of it, and I will change out my husband’s pills with these ones and maybe make HIM a happier being too! Sounds like a plan to me! She agreed.

Unfortunately, after talking with me, she said most of my emotional issues are situational. Since I am still extremely hormonal, and have little support from the male, it’s making me feel worse! And that’s also the other reason she didn’t want to prescribe the anti-depressant. She could medicate me all I want, but the problems will still be there. I told her I’ve asked many times for him to do marriage counseling and he refuses. So she is going to refer me to a counselor for women in Vegas. She said to just do what I can handle for now, and focus on myself and the kids.

So I guess the only thing left to do is tie the male up to railroad tracks and torture him until he agrees to my terms of the perfect marriage. When we go to Vegas next Tuesday, I will have him go into the hardware store and get some rope and stakes.

I confess…

2011-03-06T07:58:00.000-08:00

OK, everyone was right. When I posted the post about closing this blog, everyone who commented about leaving it open for the occasional post was right. I don’t have to be a blog junkie. I don’t have to be a comment whore. I don’t have to be the most popular in the blog world, which is obviously not going to happen. I do enjoy being able to vent when I want to, whether or not anyone actually listens.

And I confess that since I wrote that post a little over a month ago, I have discovered something about myself. I am going through Postpartum Depression. This is the single most horrifying experience I have ever gone through, seriously.

I’ve done a little research on it, and it says it’s set off by something traumatic… ha.

It generally sets in 3-4 months after a birth… ha.

And I have all but one of the symptoms, and that one is that I don’t want to hurt my kids. I do however want to kill my husband every other day. In between I kinda like him, and then I love him. I’m super happy one minute, and then I just start crying hysterically the next, and cry for hours. I get angry, I mean really angry over Nothing. At. All. Things that kinda bother me are blown completely out of proportion in my mind and heart, which adds to my stress. I generally feel like breaking everything breakable in the house, plowing the truck into oncoming traffic, putting every game my husband owns in the oven and turning it on high. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I don’t want to see anyone. I hide all feelings from my husband for many reasons. I’d rather just hide in my craft room and work on multitudes of paintings. And thankfully the little voice in my head that stops me from actually being a genuinely crazy person hasn’t gone on vacation just yet. So I’m not fit for a straight jacket, and before I am, I am going in to see a Dr., this week as a matter of fact.

A Few Days of Winter, a Brief Trip to Hell, and More News That Makes My Heart Sink

2011-03-05T09:50:00.000-08:00

Beautiful snowy nights. Things I always loved from my childhood. Somehow the entire night is illuminated and you can see the giant flakes coming down in the middle of the night leaving a thick blanket of white on the desolate, dry desert we live in. We wake up the following morning to a gorgeous, bright, white fluffy day. Unfortunately, 4 of the 5 people in this household are sick! So we didn’t get to go sledding on the hill behind our house, didn’t get to make snowmen, and didn’t get to freeze our tushies off!

Kaida was sick first, had been sick for over a week and a half. She started to get a little better. It was just a cough and a runny nose. Now Draven was sick. But he wasn’t getting better, and he suddenly developed a rash that covered his entire body! And had fevers over 103! With his history of pneumonia, I don’t really mess around when he coughs like this! So Todd took him to the clinic here in Tonopah. The nurse practitioner who saw him told my husband that since the boy has been sick for a few days, he’d be fine. The cold would work its way out of his system. And the rash? She said that was something viral and it would just work its way out of his system. Didn’t test him for anything. Didn’t give him anything. Then sent him home. I was pissed, really wish I would have taken him instead of trusting Daddy to do it. But it was done. Our friend who works there tried to talk the practitioner into fitting Todd in, because he was incredibly sick also, and she had 3 cancellations, but she wasn’t interested in helping anyone.

Kaida started coughing again. And that upset me, because she was almost over it. But what really got to me the most was now the baby was coughing. We had an appointment scheduled in Vegas for all three kids’ immunizations with a REAL doctor but it wasn’t for another week. But we had to wait.

Now, I’m not going to go into detail on how this day went. It literally makes me cry when I think of it. It was a horrible day. Me and all three kids in Vegas, all 3 of them sick, I had about 3 hours of sleep plus I was still sick, was up at 2 am getting ready for the drive, getting kids ready. Our first appointment was at 7:50 am…

Well, maybe I need to go into a little more detail, this is an update from the Eye Doctor: Sheer Persistence or Potential Scam? We got to the new eye doctor’s office at 7:30 am (you remember, one of the ones that doesn’t exist in Vegas). We were literally the FIRST patients to arrive. We waited for 2 and a-half-hours, they dilated his eyes, took us to the back to ask Qs and get all the info they needed on him. After 2 and a-half-hours (I REALLY wish I was exaggerating) we finally saw the doctor who came in to tell us that she doesn’t have the instrument needed to look at an ROP patient.

Um… WTF?!?! Are you kidding me???!!!?!

She was mad at her staff, and I reminded her that I made the appointment 3 WEEKS AGO. She said that noone informed her of an ROP patient. Needless to say, she worked it out so that a member of her staff drove across town to get the instrument and bring it back. The baby missed his physical therapy appointment because of our initial wait, but we went to another appointment across town while they got their shit together. We came back, she did the exam, and it turns out that he does indeed have ROP Stage 1. She explained it to me in more detail than the other doctor ever did, and said she’d see him back in 2 weeks. I gave her the card for the other eye Dr., signed a release, and me and the kids hauled ass out of there and down to Henderson where their Pediatrician is.

We waited another 2 and a-half-hours in this waiting room. My poor hungry and thirsty kids. I really didn’t think it was going to take this long or I would have brought in snacks for them. I explain things to the Doc, the first thing he does is test them all for RSV. Kaida and Draven are positive. O.M.G!! Inside, I am freaking out! Outside, I am listening to what he plans to do about it. He gave me the meds to treat them all, breathing treatments, strong antibiotics for the older 2, an awful nasal spray that makes them both cry, and Singulair.

So, no immunizations that day. Kids are exhausted, cranky, hungry, Mommy is something that I cannot even describe! We load up, and get back on the road heading for N. Vegas. It took us an hour in rush hour traffic, so the kids got a nice nap in at least. I pull up at IHOP, where I promised them some pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream. I call my husband to update him, and I lost it. I was just soooo overwhelmed. The day was hell and it wasn’t even over yet!

We ate our yummy pancakes, went over to Walmart where it took over an hour to get the scripts filled, did some grocery shopping, filled up the truck, and began our 3 hour trek back home. Thank goodness for the mp3 player hubby bought me, because without good music to sing along with I’d never be able to stay awake!

And that was it. Two of my babies have RSV, an incredibly dangerous and contagious respiratory infection that is extremely bad for the baby, and the baby has ROP. Other than that, everyone is great! I need to post soon on the progress the baby is making with some photos!

Can't Live With Them and It's Illegal to Kill Them!!

2011-02-18T09:10:00.000-08:00

“If I were a Stay-at-home-Dad, things would get done a lot better around here.”

Um… What??

Did I hear that right? Did he really just say that?

As a matter of fact… Yes. He. Did. And I just stood there staring at him, completely and utterly dumbfounded. I couldn’t laugh at his stupid ass, I couldn’t snicker, grin, glare, or even roll my eyes. I just stared… blankly… stupefied… in awe that those words actually, factually, realistically came out of his mouth.

After a few moments I managed a weakly irritated, “Oh Really?”

And he just smiled a very confident smile. I could literally feel every fluid begin to boil in my body. So I found something that needed to be taken to the kitchen and I left the room, leaving him alone on the bed. I collected my thoughts, took a few deep breaths, and returned for debate.

“Sooooo… what… you think I sit here on my ass all day watching soap operas and eating bon bons? Do you actually have ANY idea what I do??”

And he says, brace yourselves ladies, “Well I’d be able to manage my time better than you. I’d feed the kids, play my game for 15 minutes, wash the dishes, play my game for 15 minutes, do a load of laundry, play my game for 15 minutes, it would be EEEEASYYYYY. I would LOVE staying home all the time. I could do WHATEVER. I. WANTED.”

So now I AM. TOTALLY. LAUGHING. And at the same time I am completely irritated by his insolence. I can feel myself getting incredibly defensive too but I have nothing to throw at his stupid fat head. Here HE is telling ME that MY housekeeping skills are just not up to par when HE DOESN’T. DO. ANYTHING. ANYWHERE. EVER! Not even at work! For fear of incriminating him, I cannot go into detail there, but I will say that I know for a FACT that he has the easier job between the two of us.

During this conversation my head is wandering into his little fantasy land and I can completely see this vision of the house in my head: the beautiful hard wood floors covered in so much who-knows-what that you can't even see the color of it; the dining room table piled high with dirty dishes, his laptop, and misc. kids games; the kitchen and both bathroom trash cans overflowing to the floor with trash; the kids wearing pj's they put on a week prior and never took off; the kids' rooms completely thrashed; drinks and snack packages scattered all over the end tables and floor; UPS and FEDEX boxes piled up outside the front door; frozen pizza boxes stacked up on the stove; every cupboard door opened in the kitchen and the contents crudely dissected all over the kitchen because the kids were starving and tired of waiting for daddy to get up to feed them; and my darling husband sitting comfortably on the only clean spot of the couch with the coffee pot and a half gallon of vanilla coffee mate right next to him, playing the newest released version of Killzone on the ps3 for his 153^rd consecutive 15 minute period.

“Do you know how many times I sat down today?? 4 times, and that was ONLY while I was feeding the baby. I don’t sit on my ass and do nothing all day, I am constantly working, and the kids are always undoing everything. There is no way you’d be able to do what I do, let alone do it better!!!”

The conversation went on, he insulted my wife skills some more, my cleaning skills, my time-management skills, he stood his ground, certain he’d be a better housewife than I. I know better. But I told him I’d love to let him have a try. If I ever find my dream job, where I can make what he makes or more, he can gladly stay home and try to prove me wrong.

Here is an example of his laziness. When we first moved back out to NV we stayed with his parents for 3 months while we were deciding where to go and what we wanted to do. We had no kids and no debt at the time. He literally sat on his ass the entire 3 months playing EQ3 with his Dad. I played with them also, but I stopped to spend time scrapbooking with his mom, visiting friends, and living. He played the game for the 3 months. So I already know he’ll make a lousy housewife. And it’s not that he can’t do it. Because he can. He’s actually a fantastic cook and can clean great when HIS friends are coming over and wants to impress THEM or when he wants to get laid. He just chooses not to do these things 99.9% of the time.

He’s just too lazy to be a good housewife. He had 4 days off last week and played his computer game for 75+ hours. That meant he stayed up ALL night 3 of the nights to play it. He slept for about 12 hours the entire time. He did keep the baby for me and let me sleep but when he fed the baby, he propped the bottle in his mouth while in the basinet right next to him so he didn’t have to stop playing his game to feed him. So how exactly does he think he’s going to beat me in my job if he can’t stop playing a game for 20 minutes to hold and feed his son? Men are idiots! I’m gonna make him a list of everything I do, and then I’m gonna take a week’s vacation with some girlfriends. We’ll see what he does. LOL!

Eye Doctor: Aggressive Persistence or Potential Scam?

2011-02-13T09:14:00.000-08:00

When the baby was around 6 weeks old, the hospital told us he almost had Stage 1 ROP. There was a pediatric opthamologist who came to the hospital EVERY Thursday to monitor his eyes until he went home. In my state-of-mind, I sort of freak out about everything with him. All I knew was it was something to do with his eyes.

I met the eye doctor the week before Draikaiden was released from the hospital. I watched the exam he does. It’s not something I ever want to see again. I’m one of those moms who wants to take all the pain for my babies and I literally cried during his exam. His eyes are numbed, thankfully, but it’s still one of the most unpleasant things a newborn, or anyone for that matter, could go through. Just to give you a clue, they have to see the back of his eyeball. Yeah. Now run with that visual.

So, during this exam the eye doctor tells me that he needs to continue to see the baby EVERY week even after he is released from the NICU. I said it probably was going to be difficult to do weekly given our location of 3 hours north of Vegas, but we could probably do biweekly. He was hesitant, but agreed to that.

So, we made our first visit out of the hospital, waited in the waiting room for almost an hour and a half, me with ALL THREE MONKEYS along with at least 15 other sets of parents and their babies and toddlers, got the exam done, and were scheduled to come back in 2 weeks.

Two weeks came, we couldn’t afford the trip. I called to cancel this appointment as well as 3 others. I got a return call from a receptionist in the eye doctor’s office. The conversation is as follows. I am changing names for obvious reasons of incrimination even though I think everyone should know who this eye doctor is.

Me: Hello?

Her: Is this Mrs. LaRue?

Me: Yes.

Her: This is Mabel from Dr. Lyle’s office. You needed to reschedule for Draikaiden?

Me: Yes. We won’t be able to make it down to Vegas this week, so how about next Friday?

Her: OK, What time would you like to bring him in?

Me: Anything around 1 pm?

Her: Oh, he only sees babies until 10 am.

Me: What??? Really?? OK, so I guess 10 am it is.

Her: OK. I have you down at 10 am for Friday the 11^th. Now, you’re not going to be able to make it down at ALL this week?

Me: (puzzled) Um, No, that’s why we need to reschedule.

Her: (suddenly sounding disappointed) Well, I’m just gonna have to pass this message onto Dr. Lyle and see what he thinks about it and see if it’s OK if you reschedule.

Me: (laughing) Well, Dr. Lyle can think whatever he wants to think, it won’t change the fact that we don’t have the money to come down to Vegas THIS week!

Her: OK, well I’m just gonna let him know this, because I don’t think he wants the baby to go unseen for another week. (keep in mind at the beginning of the call we already rescheduled)

Me: (completely baffled) Look lady, you can PASS this message onto to him, but it’s not going to change ANYTHING. We can’t come down there THIS week! I’ve had to cancel 3 other appointments as well. We can’t afford the trip!

Her: Well these visits are extremely important for your baby, he needs this special care!

Me: I understand that, but this cannot be helped. It’s not like I’m trying to be an ass here, we just can’t afford it.

Her: You know Dr. Lyle is the ONLY Dr. in ALL of Las Vegas who does this sort of thing for the babies right?

Me: Um, ok, wow.

Her: And there are only 400 Doctors in the US who do it because no one really cares about this sort of thing.

Me: Wow.

Her: So I’m just going to let the doctor know this and see what he thinks then.

Me: It’s not going to change anything.

Her: This appointment is Extremely important!!!

Me: Well then, why doesn’t Dr. Lyle make a trip up to Tonopah just to see my son?

Her: Oh… well… he doesn’t usually make trips like that.

Me: Well then, I guess he’s NOT going to be seen THIS week!

Her: I don’t know where you’re coming from or how much it costs you but isn’t there any way you can make it work?

Me: (feeling my skin getting hot) We live in Tonopah! That’s THREE HOURS NORTH of Las Vegas. And we have a TRUCK! So it’s just over a $200 round trip for us. And my husband works Fridays, so I have no other care for my other 2 kids.

Her: Well, what other days is your husband off?

Me: Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday.

Her: Well can’t you come down here today then?

Me: (WTF?!?!) Um, no, we don’t have the money THIS WEEK!

Her: Well can’t your husband get an advance on his paycheck?

Me: (shocked) What?? No!!!

Her: Listen, I’m not talking to you from the Doctor’s office, I’m talking to you Mother to Mother, he really needs to be seen this week, this is very important.

Me: (LIVID but calm) I understand he needs to be seen, but we DON’T. HAVE. THE MONEY. To come down there and WON’T UNTIL the 11^th.

Her: OK, well if anything changes, you just bring him right in, don’t even make an appointment.

Me: How’s that going to work? Dr. Lyle is ONLY in the Office on Monday and Friday and ONLY sees babies until 10 am. So If I miraculously get money dropped into my account next Tuesday, he won’t be in his office to see him!

Her: (puzzled) Well, you just let us know if you can bring him in sooner.

So, after that wasted, extremely irritating 5 minute phone call, I started to do some research. ROP stands for Retinopathy of prematurity. It basically means that the eyes are underdeveloped, and of course they are, he was born 15 weeks early. At Stage 1 and Stage 2 there is NO treatment. The eyes can only be monitored with visits every 3-4 weeks. According to the paperwork we got from the hospital, Draikaiden doesn’t quite have Stage 1. So there is NO treatment! So why does THIS doctor want us in there EVERY 2 weeks even when we can’t afford the trips?

Let me briefly backtrack. The last few weeks in the hospital, several of the nurses warned me that THIS doctor is one of the ones who will actually turn us into CPS (Child Protection Services) for not attending the appointments. Hmm. Curious.

And then at our first visit to our pediatrician, he said Stage 1 ROP is completely normal in preemies and he’ll be just fine. I told him that the eye Dr. demands biweekly visits and will turn us into CPS. He laughed and said that he is just making sure he is getting a pay check in these troubling times. Um… Whoa!!! I hadn’t thought of it that way.

So then after the wasted 5 minute phone call, I got with our insurance company. I spoke with a wonderful woman who did some research for me. Turns out, there are 2 other pediatric opthamologist in the Greater Las Vegas area who do the SAME thing. So we are now scheduled for a second opinion with a doctor who doesn’t exist!

I made my husband call the other eye doctor and cancel the existing appointment and let them know we won’t be returning because we found another doctor who is In-Network with our insurance company. Since then, they have called MY cell phone twice to dispute this and try to get the information for this other doctor! I’m not telling them anything and I won’t even answer their call.

The Light and the Darkness

2011-02-09T19:03:00.000-08:00

I have seen the light and still I deny it. Some people may call that mental illness. I’ll call it stubbornness.

I slept in a bed with the shadow of the hand of God on the ceiling above me. I think I was 4. It was so perfect. Stretched out the entire shape of my ceiling. Not a single flaw, not a single part of it angled down the wall. I checked to see if my hands were under the covers, they were. I checked to see if anything was at the window, nope. Nothing at my door. Lamp wasn’t on. There was no other explanation. I called for my Dad, he turned on the light, and it was gone. He turned out the light, and it was still gone. Peculiar. I felt no fear, only confusion.

I’ve seen a group of LDS elders lay their hands on a 3-month-old child burning with a fever over 102 degrees pray to God to heal her, and within 20 minutes her fever was gone.

I felt the van approaching oncoming traffic with a rush I can’t even fathom while I was unable to even breathe and had no control or strength in my body, and then it just stopped itself.

One pound Six Ounces. Everyone, through photos, has watched this little miracle grow. There is simply no other explanation than God.

I’m not preaching, trust me, that’s just not me. I get irritated when people preach to me.

I have seen the dark. I have lived in it a vast majority of my life. It’s not a pleasant place to be. It’s not comforting. It’s not warm or peaceful. It’s not somewhere anyone should enjoy being. I’ve been there: by choice, by force, absentmindedly, unconsciously, subconsciously, sober, intoxicated, medicated, under extreme stress, while irrevocably depressed. I don’t like it there.

I have seen the devil. You may laugh, but I cry. He’s the man who touched me when I was 7. He’s the boyfriend my mom had when I was 9 who beat the hell out of her all the time. He’s the friend who introduced my husband to crystal meth when he was a teen. He’s the drug dealer who sells my mom and entire family pain killers every week. He’s my cousin who steals from the rest of the family. He’s the scumbag in Vegas who robs people on a daily basis. He’s the eye doctor who’s running a scam on preemies taking advantage of the families. And he’s probably somebody you know as well. Probably somebody you don’t want to know.

All I know is the Light is wonderful, God is peaceful, and the Devil can go to Hell.

Hard Decision

2011-02-06T13:16:00.000-08:00

Some people read this. Many don't. I have trials. After trials. After trials. God tests me. I guess he thinks I can handle it. I'd like him to know that I'd love a break. But you have to be careful what you ask for. The last time I asked for a break, it was my 12th thoracic vertebra that was broken followed by my pelvis. God does have a sense of humor. Bless His heart.

I have my family together. It's been a little over 3 weeks since my preemie came home, you'll have to read the previous posts to catch up. This life has been one hell of an emotional roller-coaster for me. And it's still not over, Thank God.

I have a lot on my mind. Quite honestly I am on the verge of a mental breakdown. This is where I need to decide what is most important in my life. I love to dabble in many things, and these many things are leaving me stretched pretty thin. I've made a list of priorities which I'll post here. On this list are things I will be focusing on in the order they appear on the list.

1. Family

2. Homeschooling my children

3. Fitness

4. Kallio Kalleidoscapes

5. Company Networking

6. Personal Time which includes crafting

As you can see, blogging did not make the cut. I just simply do not have the time to keep up with a blog reading 20-30 pages a day, writing posts at least 5 times a week, keeping a company going, while raising 2 toddlers and a preemie, and hitting my fitness goals, having personal time, being a seductress to my husband, a maid to the entire household, a chauffeur that drives 6 hours round trip for doctors visits once a week, is up 3-5 times a night with the baby, up at sunrise with the other 2, the chef, the shopper, the referee, the butt wiper, the trip planner, and everything else you can think of save for the person who goes to work and changes the oil in the cars.

I love writing. And I have loved this experience. I have grown to love a few of the women who have actually given me the chance and listened to me. And I hope through email we can remain friends.

At the end of February I will be closing down my site. I have one more post to make before I do. I wish everyone in blogland the best.

You Be Nice or Go To the CORNER!!!!

2011-01-31T10:50:00.000-08:00

So I'm walking out of the kitchen, rounding the corner into the dining room and notice something interesting out of the corner of my left eye. I stop, and turn to look down at the floor and see the most hilarious site I have seen in some time. I point it out to my husband and we both end up in hysterics!

Apparently he kicked Buzz Light Year and Draven sent him to the corner. Even Storm Troopers have to follow the rules and be nice in THIS house!

Alphabet Time Turns into a Laughing Matter

2011-01-27T13:10:00.000-08:00

Mommy: (holding up card of the letter T with a tooth on it)

What’s this?

Draven: I have one!

Kaida: It’s a …

Daddy: (taps on his teeth)

Kaida: TEETH!

Mommy: That’s right! And what letter is it?

Kaida: Ummmmm…

Mommy: What letter does Daddy’s name start with?

Draven: (tapping his teeth)

Kaida: Ummmmm…

Mommy: It’s the letter T. T-t-tooth. T-t-Todd. T.

(next card)

What’s this? (pointing to umbrella)

Kaida: It’s a… (we’ve never actually used one before, even though I have like 4 in the closet, so they weren’t sure)

Mommy: It’s an umbrella. And what letter is this? (pointing to the U)

Kaida: Ummmmm…

Mommy: It’s the letter U.

Kaida: It’s the letter Me.

Mommy: No, it’s the letter U.

Kaida: It’s the letter Me.

Mommy: (laughing) No baby, it’s a U.

Kaida: It’s a MEE! (smiles)

Mommy: (laughing really hard) OK, next letter.

(skipping forward to W)

What’s this? (pointing to a little red Wagon)

Draven: It’s at Grama’s house!!! (eyes light up)

Mommy: That’s right.

Kaida: We pull it around like this… (motioning her arm pulling the wagon)

Mommy: That’s right, and what letter is this?

Kaida: Ummm…

Mommy: It’s a W.

Kaida: It’s a double Me.

Mommy: (hysterical now) No, No, it’s a W.

Kaida: It’s a double Me!

Mommy: (lost for words, laughing at her serious face) No baby a W.

Kaida: (Shrieks out), It’s a DOUBLE ME!!!

Mommy: hahahahahahahahahahaha. OK, next letter…

Fifth Grade Assignment

2011-01-26T09:53:00.000-08:00

My father-in-law sent me this in an email. I thought it was pretty awesome and wanted to share it with everyone.

A fifth grade teacher in a Christian school asked her class to look at TV commercials and see if they could use them in 20 ways

to communicate ideas about God.

Here are some of the results.

God is like.
BAYER ASPIRIN
He works miracles.
God is like.
A FORD
He's got a better idea..
God is like.
COKE
He's the real thing.

God is like. HALLMARK CARDS He cares enough to send His very best.
God is like.
TIDE
He gets the stains out others leave behind.
God is like..
GENERAL ELECTRIC
He brings good things to life.
God is like.

WAL-MART He has everything.
God is like.
ALKA-SELTZER
Try Him, you'll like Him
God is like.
SCOTCH TAPE
You can't see Him, but you know He's there.
God is like. DELTA
He's ready when you are.
God is like. ALLSTATE
You're in good hands with Him.
God is like.
VO-5 Hair Spray; He holds through all kinds of weather
God is like. DIAL SOAP
Aren't you glad you have Him? Don't you wish everybody did?

God is like.
The U.S. POST OFFICE
Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet nor ice will keep Him from

His appointed destination.

God is like Maxwell House.. ... .
Good to the very last drop

God is like. B o u n t y... He is the quicker picker upper. .

Can handle the tough jobs.

And He won't fall apart on you

The Long, Awaited Day has Arrived!!!

2011-01-12T17:02:00.000-08:00

Today is possibly one of the happiest days in a long time for me because today, I walked out of the Sunrise Children's Neonatal Intensive Care Unit for the last time. I walked out of there with a smile on my face, tears of joy in my eyes, and my head held high because right next to me was my son, 3 months old, healthy as ever, and finally able to come home with me.

This has been the longest 3 months of my life. It has been the most emotional, the most trying, the most painful, and the most worth it. Many days and nights I would walk out of the NICU, empty handed with a lump in my throat and the most sickening, scary feeling in my gut. Every time I walked out of there, I left a piece of my heart... no, a piece of my soul lying in an incubator surrounded by wires, tubes, and one of the most amazing medical staffs I have ever encountered.

And now it is over. He's home! No more wires, tubes, machines, tests, beepers, timers, schedules, nurses, doctors. Just family. He still has a long road ahead of him. He needs physical therapy, and lots of misc. exams. But he is home!!!

And I'll never have to walk into or out of that NICU again. It's not that it wasn't a nice place, cause it was. It's just that what it means to be in there is heartache, terror, nervousness, sleepless nights, fearing every phone call, being without that life that was growing inside you.

He's home! And now I feel whole again. I have my whole family together at last. This truly is a happy day!

The Procrastination Police have found me!!!

2011-01-10T20:21:00.000-08:00

So I was trapped. By my dear, sweet Mother-in-law, no less.

So it's not THAT bad. But somewhere in her post, with her brand new, tricky language of BeckyLatin, was a disclaimer stating that if you posted a comment you sold your soul to the unfinished projects police!!!

So, I must make a list! I must make a list of the many unfinished projects I have that I would like to get completed at some point or another. And I must also set a goal for finishing some or all! If you're like me, a P.R.O.C.R.A.S.T.I.N.A.T.O.R. then you'll definitely want to join in the fun. Becky has a game going, or something like that, anyways the bottom line is that you can win stuff!!! And she's always got some awesome stuff!!! So, head on over to her place, Becky's Bits and Pieces become a follower and sign up for this game! She's awesome, and I promise her language is soooooooooooo much cleaner than mine! She's my hero! :)

Without further.. um... procrastination... here is my LIST!!

1. Upload photos of the family to snapfish so everyone who wants to can order!

2. Take Etiquette classes

3. Organize, I mean REALLY organize the craft room

4. Finish dividing up my 400 or so packets of Scrapbook paper that no one is buying.

5. Make as many paperbag albums as possible for the Craft/Scrapbook Expo

6. Look into the next Vegas scrapbook expo and SIGN UP!!!

7. Design something that is going to be amazing and just freaking awesome for my bestie, but I can't tell you what it is cause I know she'll be reading this.

8. Figure out better advertising for my company

9. Blog more.

10. Be more proactive in blogland, I've been lazy and incredibly distracted!

11. Redesign my Scrapbook Shop

12. Finish painting Vision Blooms

13. Paint image for Jana's kitchen

And that's all I can think of for now. I know there are MANY more, but these ones plague my mind the most. So aside from the two busy-as-ever toddlers and the brand new preemie coming home this week, taking care of them, and hubby, and house, and working out to lose this baby weight, I will have at least half of these done by my birthday! Which is June 1st.

Now head on over to Becky's place and join in the fun. You'll have to read her posts to see how the game thingy works and see what's up for grabs!

Skinny Like Her

2011-01-03T13:13:00.000-08:00

So I just got done reading my Bestie’s post on Tips for Getting Skinny this year, and it has inspired me to add on to her tips.

After I had my first son (2^nd baby), I was 60 lbs overweight!!! I was determined to lose it and feel great about myself again! So with the Utmost amount of pure, solid determination, I lost it. I busted my ass daily in front of my TV, watched what I ate, drank TONS of water, and I lost it. In the first 4 months I had already lost 35 pounds!!!! Because I woke up one day and thought, “I’m worth feeling good about ME!”

So, can’t take ALL the credit here, but I believe I inspired my bestie to lose her baby weight also. I forced her to do Slim in 6 workouts with me every time I’d go up to visit. Then she was hooked. She decided SHE was worth it. So she lost her 50 POUNDS of extra weight. I give her a hard time now cause she’s RIDICULOUSLY skinny, but she’s healthy. And she lost the weight the HEALTHY way. She counted calories, which I used to laugh about but it WORKS!!! And she works out frequently. She’s slim, healthy, and feels great about herself. So go read her tips on reaching your goals, and then read mine, they’re just an add-on to hers.

Find a Partner who will KEEP you motivated!! If I hadn’t had support, I never would have lost the weight! And here I am again, after the 3^rd baby, needing to lose the weight all over again! But I have amazing support. My hubby will weight train with me and make sure I’m not cheating on my diet. My bestie will work out with me and remind me along the way when I forget what all this hard work is for. It’s important to have support! Be it a friend who sweats along side you, a spouse who makes sure the junk in the cupboards is gone and compliments your progress along the way, or complete strangers on Facebook who are cheering you on every step of the way. Whoever you can get, GET THEM! You’ll be happy you did.

Display your goal out in the open! Whether it’s a pair of jeans you’ve always wanted to fit in, a magazine model you admire, or a sexy cocktail dress, Display it! If you don’t own it, BUY IT!!! Go out and buy that goal size outfit you want, then hang it up somewhere you will have to look at it every single day. It will help to keep you motivated to see it every day! If it’s a photograph of how you used to look, or how you want to look, put it on the fridge, or on your bathroom mirror. Trust me, you’ll stay motivated and can thank me later.

Don’t procrastinate! You wake up one morning and are pumped up… get a GREAT workout in, eat right, drink lots of water, it was a great day. The next morning, you just don’t feel as amped as the day before, so you say, “I’ll workout tomorrow.” Tomorrow comes, and tomorrow goes. This becomes a habit. Before you know it, 2 weeks have passed and you haven’t worked out but once the entire time! No way!!! Don’t let this happen to you. I have those days where I am groggy, or just feeling lazy. I don’t have any energy, no motivation. But I suck it up and do the workout anyways. Afterwards I feel sooooo much better, with more energy, and proud that I did it. After a week of working out, I start to notice a difference in the way my clothes fit. After 2 weeks, I completely drop a jean size. So while you’re feeling lazy and teetering on the idea of NOT working out today, remember that it doesn’t take long to make progress. Don’t set yourself up for this kind of failure!

Don’t believe for a second it’s supposed to be easy! Getting fit and staying healthy is A LOT of work. I’m not going to lie to you. The only way Steph and I ever lost any weight was by completely busting our asses. And not only doing so for a couple of weeks, but by making it a lifestyle! Steph is slim as ever, but the only way she remains so is by watching what she eats and STILL working out! She didn’t get skinny and then just stop doing everything. She remains healthy and active. Let her be an inspiration to us all! Now that I am recovered from the surgery and having the baby, I am back on track again. I know it’s going to be a long, hard road, but I am so worth it.

Know the difference between a Gimmick and what actually works! There is NO miracle drug that will make you skinny. There is NO miracle drug that will give you the perfect body. Don’t be fooled by one of the world’s leading money making industries. There are things that suppress the appetite, and things that give you energy to workout, but they REQUIRE a healthy diet and a regular workout routine. Read the labels! I’ve seen people take these drugs that promise tremendous weight loss. And what do you think happens to EVERY single person who was fooled?? As soon as they are off the drug, the weight comes right back on! Because it was a GIMMICK! It didn’t teach you to EAT healthy. It didn’t teach you to BE healthy. It taught you that with enough money, you can buy something to eat away your appearance. Don’t be a fool.

The only way to be thin and fit is to eat healthy, throw out all the junk, don’t cheat on your diet, and bust your ass with a good workout routine. And there IS a workout for everybody. I have a crushed vertebra and broken pelvis, I do cardio routines with Kickboxing and weight training along with Dance routines. Suck it up, get your body strong and toned, and realize that you are worth it!

A Short Birthday Message...

2010-12-25T23:07:00.000-08:00

When I was younger, I could remember anything,

whether it happened or not.
- Mark Twain

Today is my beautiful best friend’s birthday!!! YAY Blue Zoo operator!!!!

I’m excited about her birthday!

I don’t have any gifts for her, it’s been a rough year. So gifting isn’t why I’m excited.

Growing old is like being increasingly penalized
for a crime you have not committed.
- Anthony Powell

And I won’t be able to see her today to throw her a party or go out and get her completely blitzed and take photos to show her weeks later. That’s not why I am excited either.

We are always the same age inside.
- Gertrude Stein

I don’t have anything special for her, no poems, no cards, no cute little videos. Nope, nothing like that.

It takes a long time to become young.
- Pablo Picasso

The reason I’m so excited that today is HER birthday, is because my dear sweet, beautiful best friend is a year older today.

And that makes her older than me!!!!

The secret to staying young is to live honestly, eat slowly, and lie about your age.

- Lucille Ball

Happy Birthday Stephanie!!

I luuuuuuuuv you!

The Christmas Spirit Lives

2010-12-25T09:47:00.001-08:00

Little girl: “Mommy, is Santa going to give us presents this year?”

Mommy: “Oh, Baby, Santa is just a nice man in a nice story.”

Little girl: “You mean he’s not real?”

The mother thought for a moment, trying to find the most delicate way to respond to her little girl.

Mommy: “He’s real in the hearts of those who keep the true Christmas Spirit alive, honey.”

Santa Claus. Chris Cringle. Father Christmas. Saint Nikolaus. Papa Noel. El Nino Jesus. This man has many names. All around the world parents tell their children the story of a man who spends all year making toys, then spends one night a year traveling throughout the entire world to deliver them to all the good boys and girls. It’s a magical story. It’s a comforting story, because who doesn’t want to believe in someone so giving and kind hearted? But when we get old enough to understand that it IS just a story, I think maybe we all feel like fools and maybe a little deceived from having everyone around us lie to us for so long.

But it truly is a magical story. Many probably don’t realize that they have the power to keep the true Christmas Spirit alive. Santa Claus can be real. He can be in a number of people who decide to give without seeking reward.

I’ve met many people who give without taking, people who go out of their way to help complete strangers. People who always think of themselves last, and everyone around them first. That is Santa Claus.

A red fluffy costume and a pointy hat are not required to fit the profile. A kind heart and the ability to think of others is all it takes.

Every year the boy scouts come by our house around Thanksgiving time asking for donations of non-perishable items to give to the needy. They go door to door, neighborhood to neighborhood, not asking for any compensation for themselves.

It’s the sister who will drive out of state to make sure you’re safe. It’s the father who will miss work and hop on a plane to join you in the hospital just to see for himself how you’re doing. It’s the man who will drive 3000 miles just to love you. It’s the friend who goes out of her way to make sure you know you’re loved. People all over the world experience times like these and more because people all over the world know what it is to be Santa.

It’s not about presents and how much you can spend. It’s about love.

Is there a little Santa in you?

Post it Note Tuesday

2010-12-21T12:57:00.000-08:00

Daddy Didn’t Love Me Enough So Now I’m a Crack Addict...

2010-12-18T10:04:00.000-08:00

••Warning!! Explicit Content: DO NOT READ if you are sensitive or easily offended!!!!••

What??!??

Really???

This one is angry. This one is full of truth. And this one is uncensored. You’ve been warned.

My original intentions with this post were to rag on the scum of the earth who use their childhood experiences as excuses for their own poor decisions in life. I believe people have the CHOICE to be scum or to not be scum. My life has been hard. One ridiculously overwhelming trial after another. So my new intention is to show you what is possible when you make the Choice to be better after all the crappy experiences life possesses.

I see druggies, alcoholics, abusers, liars, thieves, cheaters, the uneducated, the ignorant, and the just plain stupid use excuses like the title of this post all the fucking time. Really?? Well, get over it!

Here’s a brief history of my life, as brief as I could cut it down to.

Mom and Dad were alcoholics and Mom eventually morphed into a druggie. Mom left dad, taking my brother and I with her while we were very young. We lived with my mom’s side of the family, all big drinkers, pot smokers, and pill poppers, including my 2 grandmothers. Mom would get drunk, I mean really drunk, at least once a week with one of her boyfriends, they’d duke it out, he’d beat the fuck out of her, neighbors would call the cops, brother and I would spend the night or nights at the Police Station or in Foster Care. Mom finally remarried, but the fights didn’t stop. My step-dad has never hit my mom, but she sure tries her best to get him to.

No one in my family has ever had any kind of aspirations. Ever. Barely had jobs, they’ve mostly lived off the government because the government lets them. We moved around a lot, somehow. There was a time when no one in the family could even make the rent payment on our home, so we were ALL homeless: my mom and her new man, aunts, uncles, 2 grandmothers, and my brother. I was 10. We camped at the river in tents for the entire summer, and summers in Arizona are long. It was an adventure to me, but pretty messed up when I look back. It happened because none of the adults would get a job.

After the summer, mom and her new man took off, left us with my 2 grandmothers. With their social security checks, they managed to rent a single-wide trailer for the 4 of us. We got comfortable there, then mom shows up out of the blue and wants us back. We move again, bringing grandmothers, and end up with the only aunt who had a life and home. She’s the one I always looked up to. She’s a crack whore now.

Well, Mom fucked this home up too, got drunk and tried to kill her sister, destroyed her house in the process. Cops didn’t take us away this time, but we were ordered to leave with mom. Then we ended up back in Nevada. We were both approaching our teens, and Mom hates teenagers. She had money for her liquor cabinet, her drugs, her dogs, her cats, my brother, then me, in that order. My only sanctuary throughout my childhood was school. People picked on me because I never had new clothes, and apparently looked poor. That’s a good reason to taunt someone. So, in the eleven elementary schools I went to, I didn’t always have friends. Neither did my brother. But I had the schoolwork, which was what I loved. So I excelled.

After a few years in the Muc’ I got really tired of my mom’s BS. I hated her. She was a self-destructive, narcissistic addict who didn’t know a single thing about loving anyone. A friend and I got a wild hair up our asses and decided to run away. She had an incredibly fucked up childhood also. As did her husband. There are things that happened to them that are so obscene I can’t even talk about them. But keep them in mind when I get to the point of this story.

I can do a lot of whining here, but I won’t. We ended up turning ourselves in and both of us got the fuck beat out of us by our loving mothers. I wanted more than anything to go live with Dad, whom I hadn’t seen in over 10 years at this point. Mom called him while she was beating me up to tell him what a piece of shit his daughter was and he needed to come get her. Well, he didn’t have room for me at that time. I spent a few nights in Foster care, then went back to AZ to live with my grandmothers. And here we were again, 12 people living in a single-wide trailer living off my Grandmothers’ SS checks. I still loved school, because it was still my sanctuary. Once in high school, I involved myself in every activity I could that would keep me there longer. When I was home I was watching my 5 younger cousins while all their parents went out partying almost nightly. I believe I forgot to mention one of my grandmother’s was blind, and the other was due for a hip replacement. So while they were there with me, well, they were just there.

And then our house burned down. We lost everything. The LDS church and Red Cross helped us to put a home back together again. After we were settled, just my grandmothers, myself, and my younger cousins, things were great again, for a while. Then my aunt, the one I looked up to, went of the deep end. Left her husband, which devastated him. So during their awkward phase, their SEVEN kids came to live with us. And I’m not even exaggerating. I was 16 and taking care 12 children, ok 11 cause the 2^nd oldest was just 2 years younger than me. But I managed it just fine, kept my grades up, and went into the summer with them all. My aunt, 15 years later, is still sinking in the deep end.

Then we moved again across town. My uncle’s wife left him (smart move on her part) and he found himself a crackwhore. Her 5 kids came to stay with us often. The eldest, Brandi, and I were pretty close, she was 4 years my junior. One warm fall evening after everyone had gone to bed, she got a wild hair up her ass and thought it would be a blast to hop on a train with her other cousin. Tara made the leap, but Brandi didn’t. I heard screaming, ran out across the road and found Brandi lying there in the dirt, smothered in blood, missing one leg. I held her until the ambulance arrived, sang to her, made her pray out loud. And I can still remember everything. Her mom and my uncle had to be pryed away from the bar to join her in the ER.

After Brandi returned home I really took her under my wing. One time her mom was physically attacking her, I stepped in and shoved her aside and picked Brandi up off the ground. My uncle, drunk as ever, came up to the house raging mad and ready to attack Brandi. I stepped in again and he head butted me, I blacked out. I was 17.

With the utmost dedication and single thought of having a better life of my own, I graduated with flying colors, with 2 scholarships to a law school in New Mexico. But they weren’t enough to get me in. I moved, lost a love, fell in love, lost another love, repeated that mistake with a few more men, started working on my own, started supporting myself, then met a new guy. He wasn’t the one.

Dad offered to pay for my college if I moved out to Florida. Couldn’t pass that up. 20 and single and near the Florida beaches, I was stoked. But before I left, I met the one. The one I’ve spent the last 12 years with, the one I promised an eternity with, the one who still makes me melt even after all the hell we’ve been through together.

I went to college, I got to know Dad very well, he was everything I imagined he’d be. I watched my mother, who couldn’t even raise my brother and I, adopt FOUR other children!!! Todd and I struggled, him working one full-time job, and me working several part-time jobs while in school to support ourselves. We were broke, but we were doing it on our own. We bought our first house at age 24, I broke my back at 26, got married, then lost my Dad.

Nothing about my life has ever been easy. Nothing. My first pregnancy was painful and ended with no developing baby. My second pregnancy ended with a broken pelvis, my third pregnancy ended with my husband telling me he met a younger woman while I was away, and my fourth pregnancy ended 15 weeks early. I have 2 healthy, wonderful and busy toddlers, and one beautiful baby boy who started out at 1 pound 6 ounces and is growing stronger and stronger every day in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit in Vegas. He’s almost 10 weeks old, and I’ve held him about 8 times. I only get to see him at night after my kids are sleeping because I have no child care in Vegas. I live 3 hours away where my husband stays throughout the weeks because that is where he works. I have no support from my family, save from my mom, not even a single call to say ‘Hi, how’s the baby?’

And then just last week, a couple of white trash scumbags drilled a hole into my truck and stole my purse. They tapped out and completely overdrew my business account, tapped into our personal checking account, have mine and my 3 kids’ SS cards, among many other personal things. Even though they’ve been reported, they will probably never be found.

No part of this life is easy. Some people get breaks, others never do. Some people really do get things handed to them, and the rest of us have to bust our asses just to keep our heads above water. When someone comes to me and tells me that they are the loser they are because of the way they were raised, I want to punch them square in the face. I have zero sympathy for people who blame everyone else for their own mistakes.

The people I grew up with, the people who raised me, who were around me my whole life, until I was 18 at least, were violent alcoholics, druggies, thieves, trouble-makers, liars, drop outs, criminals, and every other bad thing you can imagine in a person. My mom and aunts had male friends over who would try to “touch” me when I was a child!

Through all the Bull Shit I experienced firsthand growing up, Guess what?? I’m not a druggie. Nor am I an alcoholic, or a felon. I’m a college graduate. I own my own business. My kids are healthy and clean and have everything they need. My husband and I get along, we’ve never once hit each other. We have a home, 2 cars, and a truck. We have a life. A Healthy one. And do you know why? Because it’s what I chose.

I chose to rise above the sleazy lifestyle I was raised in.

I chose to be clean.

I chose to be educated.

I chose to be a positive influence for my kids.

I chose to be honest and not steal from anyone.

I CHOSE.

And my friends who I mentioned earlier, also chose. Neither of them are junkies. I don’t even believe I’ve seen either of them drink for some time. They take very good care of their kids and both have amazing jobs to be proud of. They are wonderful people.

So people who live in slums, and bitch and moan because that’s the way they were raised, are just lazy bastards who are incapable of accepting the blame for their own conditions.

I’m a bitch, I'll be the first to admit it, especially when someone wants to fuck with me. I have zero tolerance for free-loaders and beggars. This life has made my skin tough and I don’t take shit from any one. I’m offensive to some, and overly honest to others. I don’t care if someone dislikes me. I’m proud to be who I am, because it’s who I choose to be.

Not making a choice is still making a choice. Life is hard. No one ever promised us it would be easy. But if you can get passed the gutters and stay afloat in the tides, life is beautiful.

LifeSuckers

2010-12-14T08:31:00.000-08:00

Feeling pretty down lately.

The baby has been doing very well, but it’s incredibly hard for me to not have him with me. I get to see him once a day, at night after the kids go to sleep. And that is only while I can be in Vegas and for as long as I can stay awake.

Life is complicated and I’m a huge Santa Sack full of emotions. People who follow me or ever read up on the crap I write know what a rollercoaster I am. We just moved into a larger house, which is awesome, but the last couple weeks have been stressful on us. Things are more complicated than I can really write in a short blog post. Everything costs money. Everything seems to revolve around money. Living three hours away from the Children’s Hospital that currently houses my preemie is incredibly stressful. It costs a lot of money to come down and see him. A very generous man whom my husband works with handed us his fuel card to use for a while to get back and forth from Tonopah to Vegas. He was kind enough to write his pin number on a paper stuck to the card so I could use it freely.

While the kids and I are here it’s even more stressful on us. We stay with my dear friend who doesn’t have kids yet, so I’ve got to be on the kids’ butts all the time to stay out of her nice, breakable things. We’re away from my husband quite a bit which is hard on us all. We’re completely out of our element here, so it’s hard for me to relax, but it’s what I gotta do if I want to see my little miracle man. Sacrifices. Ones that are slowly sending me into a depression that I can’t seem to overcome.

So last night, I went to see the baby at the hospital. I waited till after the other 2 monkeys went to sleep to make babysitting as stress-less as possible for my friend. I get to the hospital, park, pull my ID out of my purse as I do every night, and go into the hospital. A few stories from Hans Christian Anderson’s Complete Book of Fairytales, a few wonderful little moments with my boy, and I leave an hour later. Get in the truck, restart my MP3 player, crank up the rock music that is going to keep me awake on the drive across town through midnight traffic, and I’m back at Jana’s again. I get out, walk around the truck as I do every night to grab my things from the passenger side and realize my purse is not amongst these things tonight.

Oh. My. God.

Some lousy, motherf@#$ing low-life broke into my truck while I was visiting my son at the hospital and stole my purse! As if people who are parked at the hospital aren’t under enough stress for whatever reasons, scumbag, trashy pieces of $hit spend their time scoping out the lot to see who they can rob each night. They take whatever they can grab, part of other people’s lives, and walk away laughing like it's just a game.

These bastards went to 2 711s and 3 redboxes within the hour, using both my debit cards. I’m sure they are planning to keep these DVDs which will rack up daily charges on both my accounts.

Cards have been reported as stolen and so far the damage isn’t too deep. They have my social security card as well as all three of my kids’. They have photos of my children, insurance cards, business cards with all of my information, the fuel card from my husband's friend, and who knows what else I had in there!

I am livid.

Identity theft is a fixable crime for the victim, but how often do they actually CATCH the crime spree bastard? I’m sure this isn’t something that the cops really give a f@#k about to actually look into and follow-up with, what with all the druggies and murderers they have to catch. I know I will never see my purse again, nor the contents in it. That makes me a little sad. But what really makes me feel so utterly violated is the fact that these jobless, moral-less, sleezy motherf#*kers broke into MY truck and took something very personal of MINE!

We work hard to have the things we have. What gives them the right to lurk in the shadows, sneaking around and take it from us? And how many other people have these scumbags violated?

Push It

2010-11-13T15:56:00.000-08:00

As far down as it will go.

Push it to a place where it cannot enter my mind.

I push this thought, this devastatingly negative thought, down until it feels like it is erased. It can’t exist. There is no place for it. No room. No time. No energy saved for it.

Push it down. Muffle it. Think of ANYTHING... BUT… IT!!

I don’t want it here. I can’t bare it. I don’t have what it takes to think of it. I can’t imagine anyone would.

I relax my mind. It’s hard to do, but I relax it. I think of the many things that DO make me happy. Hearing the monkeys giggle and whisper as they play. Feeling my husband’s arms around my waist and his presence in my heart. Seeing the baby sleeping peacefully in his isolette. I imagine him coming home, and seeing the excited looks on the monkey’s faces when they finally meet him.

I relax.

There are many things to be happy for. So many things to be thankful for.

I thank God for the wonderful life we have. For the amazing friends I have, old and new. So many people helping us, praying for us. I don’t even know how many hearts pray for my newest little monkey to get stronger, bigger, and healthier. But I am so thankful for each of them.

And then it emerges.

This thought I’ve been pushing down for weeks. The one that first consumed me when I realized I was having contractions 3 minutes apart. I feared he was too young, and wouldn’t survive. I wasn’t just afraid to deliver him in Tonopah, I was simply afraid for him to come out at all as early as he did.

I try to push it. I try to hand this disheartening thought over to God.

And that finds me in a loop.

I ask Him… no, BEG Him to keep Draikaiden safe, keep him strong, and keep him here with me.

But how many times do I have to Beg Him not to take my son before I feel secure enough?

And does it matter how much we pray for him, how many people are praying, or how frequently I talk to God? Because, in the end, everything is God’s will isn’t it? When He decides that HE wants or needs someone, his or her time is simply up isn’t it?

I’m angry, but there is no one to be angry with. I want to scream and shout and swing my fists, but there is no one who deserves the blame.

So I push it.

Push it all back down and remind myself of the wonderful things in life NOW.

Three Weeks Old!!!

2010-11-02T16:34:00.000-07:00

Just stopping by to do a quick update.

Draikaiden is doing well. He has no major issues, which is a blessing having been born 15 weeks early!!!

Today he is three weeks old. He’s very tough, and a little temperamental. He knows what he likes and that’s how he wants it!!! He’s such a little fighter.

He’s been bumped up on his feedings, now receiving nearly 3cc’s every 3 hours. To help you understand how much milk that is, 1 teaspoon equals 5cc’s. He’s starting to gain weight, today he is exactly 2 pounds! He started off at 1 pound 10 oz at birth. His weight fluctuates quite a bit still, but now that he is eating more, he should really start to gain.

The doctor wants to ween him off of the breathing machine for a second time. The first time he was off for nearly 24 hours of breathing on his own. We are hoping this time is longer or even permanent. The longer he needs the machine to breathe for him, the higher the risk of him having chronic lung problems throughout his life. So we are praying hard for him.

He is strong. He is tough. He is growing and improving a little every day. So many people are praying for him and for that I am tremendously thankful.

The monkeys have been in Winnemucca (7 hrs north of where we are in Vegas) since a few days after the delivery. I miss them terribly, but they will be here with me next week. I have been staying with a great friend, Jana, here in Vegas, and will stay here until Draikaiden is ready to come home. Todd is at home in Tonopah (3 hours north) and we only see each other when we can afford the trip for one of us to travel either there or here. Today he is coming down here to see the baby. Last week I was able to go up and spend a day with him. It’s difficult being away from him, he is my strength and support system.

This has been difficult to deal with, but a very dear friend, Tamara, put a bracelet on my arm which reads, One Day at a Time. And that is the only way I can take it now. It’s hard to plan ahead, because as of now, this tiny little man is the boss. Everything depends on his progress, his milestones, and all the blessings God can give him. He’s already been an incredible blessing to me and I feel I have changed as a person and mom. I pray like crazy that God gives me the strength to get through this.

15 weeks TOO SOON!!!

2010-10-13T21:12:00.000-07:00

So many thoughts. Good ones. Bad ones. Ones I’d like to just erase the moment they enter my mind.

So many words spinning through my head.

So lost.

I feel so helpless.

But so incredibly hopeful.

My due date was January 25, 2011. 3 weeks ago I started having preterm contractions. 2 days ago I woke up with contractions 3 minutes apart. I called my dear mother-in-law to make sure she could drive 4 hours to take care of my monkeys. Called hubby to let him know he needed to get home, or to the hospital. Then I called Tamara who hung up on me and ran from the restaurant, where she was eating breakfast, to my house. She patiently and expediently directed me to the truck, her hubby arrived to watch the monkeys till grandparents arrived, and we were off.

Off to the Tonopah hospital.

A place that doesn’t really have the best options for major issues such as preterm labor. I was blessed with an amazing staff though. Wonderful, wonderful people. The doc checked my cervix to find the amniotic sac was bulging through, and determined it was far too late to stop this labor. My heart sank. We were 3 hours away from Vegas, away from major hospitals who can successfully deal with such an emergency. Every worst thought you can think of went through my head. Thoughts you probably can’t even fathom were in my head. I did not want to deliver my son THERE!!

The doctor was amazing though. He called the Sunrise Perinatal Staff in Vegas for some expert advice. He listened strictly to what the specialist said. They decided to fly a crew from the Sunrise Children’s Hospital to Tonopah to be as prepared as possible for this 15-week premature child. Almost 2 hours pass and the crew finally arrives. They start my contractions up again, I start to push. But it just didn’t feel right. Not to me. Not to the doctor. He checked my cervix again, I hadn’t dilated any further than 3 cm, exactly where I was when I first arrived. He called the expert and was strongly encouraged to stop my contractions again and put me on the plane with the Perinatal team.

I didn’t hesitate. I looked at my wonderful friend who stood next to me the entire time, calling everyone I could think to tell, calming me, not letting me freak out, not letting me talk to anyone who was going to make me cry (which was everyone), not letting me panic and cause worse contractions or complications, and her eyes said it was a good choice. I looked at my husband who had the same look in his eyes. He understood I didn’t want to stay. Even though it meant I flew to Vegas alone, with only medical staff.

Comfortably, safely, and now more calm than I’d felt in a while, I was in a room at Sunrise Hospital surrounded by a busy staff checking me in and making preparations. The doctors came in to consult with me the best options. They did an ultrasound and discovered he was breech, so natural labor wasn’t the most ideal option. Thankfully! I was afraid of that option because my dear friend lost her son that way. He was just too young to go through such trauma. So I asked if they would absolutely do a c-section. They said of course, but it depends on how quickly everything goes, if it does indeed spin out of control. They also wanted to keep me on magnesium for at least 48 hours to allow the baby to get the full effect of the steroids I’d been given earlier in the morning.

Unfortunately, my little man couldn’t wait 2 more days. At 3am the following morning, the amniotic sac broke. There was NO stopping his entrance into the world now.

Around 10 am they were preparing me for surgery.

At 10:52 our little man made his big entrance. DraikAiden Blaine LaRue. 1 pound 10 ounces. 13 and a quarter inches long. Tough guy!

I heard 2 tiny cries.

He was taken out of the room and rushed to the NICU. The anesthesiologist gave me a post-operation pain killing injection, and I was out of for the next hour. My darling hubby was there with our son, taking amazing photos, watching the staff work their magic.

12 hours later I finally got to see my little guy.

He’s so precious.

And so small.

It is difficult for mommy not to notice all the wires and tubes flowing all around him, through his skin, through his mouth. He has a machine breathing for him. He’s so tiny. So frail. We can’t even touch him. His eyes aren’t even opened yet. His hearing is at a minimal. He is inside an incubator. I can’t hug him. I can’t kiss him. I can’t hold his little hand. All I can do is stand there and stare through glass at my fragile, defenseless boy hooked up to so many things, fighting for his little life.

I try to be strong. He needs me to be. But seeing THIS breaks me.

My husband is amazing at times like these. He’s so patient with my tears and emotions. He’s so understanding. I know this hurts him too though.

But I am hopeful. He is in the best care he could possibly be in. This is a great hospital. Another friend of mine had her daughter prematurely here. She’s now going on 7. He is in good hands. And I am hopeful in a few weeks we’ll be able to touch him, and in January we will be taking him home where his sister and brother will shower him with hugs and kisses, and then teach him all their bad habits!

I’m praying for this. More than I have ever prayed for anything in my life.

Post it Note Tuesday - Pregnancy Reminders

2010-09-28T04:29:00.000-07:00

Today is PINT. So head on over to The Only Parent Chronicles to make your own or just read some of the others. And don't forget to link up! :)

Before I Complain Again...

2010-09-24T08:47:00.001-07:00

When I saw that car crossing the median on the freeway, it didn’t quite register. My heart started thumping but I wasn’t actually scared until we’d been knocked into the median. I remember thinking, “Oh God, I’m, never going to get married.” But I wasn’t actually Afraid. I was worried, but not in a state of panic.

When I heard from the other end of the line, “Your dad is dead,” I dropped to my knees and lost full composure. There was nothing else to think about except that he was gone. I wasn’t afraid, I was heartbroken.

When I heard these words out of the doctor’s mouth, “He has a large pneumonia in his lung.” My heart sank. He wasn’t even two yet. I was scared out of my mind, but I did my best to hold myself together. I had great support there with me, people who tried to take the burden away as much as possible. But I was scared out of my mind, honestly. That was my baby. And I couldn’t fix it with a Mommy Kiss. All I could do was sit there next to him in the hospital and wait for him to get better. I read to him, played movies on my laptop, talked to him, played as much as he was allowed, tickled his skin to help him fall asleep, and tried my best not to let him see me cry. I never left the hospital as long as he was in there.

This time, I’m lost. I’ve been having pre-term contractions for over a week now, and I am barely five and a half months along. 22 weeks. And my cervix is extremely soft. It’s way too early for this wee one to meet the world. Way too early! I’m completely at a loss for what to do.

The doctor gave me meds to help stop the contractions. I still feel them. And it scares the hell out of me.

First of all, we live in a SMALL town 3 hours north of where my doctor is in Vegas. We basically have a band-aid store here. They’re not qualified for labor, let alone premature labor!

Second, I have limited friends here and no family. All my friends work during the day also, as does my husband.

Third, I have a two- and three-year-old to take care of. Very busy monkeys they are!

So before God and everyone, I take back all complaints I’ve had about being pregnant. I take back everything I said about not enjoying it. I didn’t mean that I wanted the baby gone. I want her, very much. Alive, FULL-TERM, and healthy. I want her to stay in there as long as she needs to. I do not want this pregnancy to end early by any means just because I have been utterly miserable. I can take it. I’m strong. I’m able. She’s NOT! Give me the pain, but let her be. Let her grow like she’s supposed to and become a healthy girl who is going to keep me up every night.

So now, I am relaxing. On the couch watching movies with the kids. Listening to them making messes. Watching them jump on the furniture. I’m trying to relax. To not clean where it needs it. To not do anything. I have just over 4 months to go still, and by golly I will lay here until she is grown and healthy enough to come out. I will take these meds to lessen the contractions. And I will stop bitching about being fat. I will do whatever it takes to keep her in there.

Next week I go get my cervix measured and find out for sure if this IS indeed a girl! And I believe from here on out I will see the doc more frequently.

No more complaining!

Post it Note Tuesday - Just a Few Reminders

2010-09-21T04:37:00.000-07:00

It is Post It Note Tuesday once again! I Love Tuesdays! Click on the link above to head on over to the Only Parent Chronicles to make your own and link up or to just read some of the other Post It Notes.

Conditioned

2010-09-18T13:17:00.000-07:00

I love to write. Anything. I may not be funny. I may not be a good writer. But I LOVE to write! It is an awesome outlet for me. As are all forms of art. This is one of my favorite poems that I have done. May everyone capture the meaning...

CONDITIONED

Serving worldly others,

without assisting self.
Money bought salvation,

repent to save thyself.
Conditioned, thoughtless lemmings,

with educated hate.
Poisoned short of envy.

Obliterate. Sedate.
Following their footsteps,

as staggered as they are.
Blinding youth. Misguiding.

A chalice lined with tar.
Narcism hovers righteously,

shallow in its vein.
Bulging out with demons,

dealing out disdain.
Convincing severed followers

that Heaven left this path,
Leading us to gobble up

the gold of satan’s wrath.
Simplicity forgotten,

abused, and on retreat.
Betraying all with open eyes,

weakening their feet.
A world of putrid venom,

ignoring love’s release.
Sheltering in harbor

the souls away on lease.
Rights have all been taken.

“Free” no more exists.
Camera flash determines

what the masses now will miss.

Friday Confessional

2010-09-17T09:57:00.000-07:00

So this is my first time joining in with Glamazon Mormon Mom for Friday Confessional.

I Confess...
• I like to complain.
• My mind is always somewhere it isn't supposed to be, but I can't help it.
• I don't brush my hair after I wash it!
• I spend too much time on my laptop.
• I hate being pregnant! Seriously.
• I want to be somewhere else! Not here, not at all.
• I am envious of women who brag about how great their man is.
• I am incredibly jealous that my BFF got a tummy tuck and I am plumply pregnant!
• I drink too much coffee this pregnancy but I have a 2- and 3-year-old to keep up with!
• I often cry myself to sleep. Not sure if it's a missing thing, or an incredibly hormonal thing, but I do.
• I have no patience for A.N.Y.T.H.I.N.G.
• I am cranky all the time, and I hate myself for it.
• I feel the next 4 months is going to be the longest 4 freaking months of my life!!!
• if I continue confessing, something really bad may come out!

Share a Spoon - Pumpkin Cookies

2010-09-16T05:09:00.001-07:00

It is COOKIE week!!! Yummy, yummy, yummy.

Friends You Love and Think Tank Momma are bringing a warm-hearted, friendly Cookie Exchange to the Blogging World! Head over to Think Tank Momma's to post your favorite cookie recipe and link it up to share with us! Or if you aren't a blogger but would still like to share your recipe give it to the Think Tank Momma and she'll post it for you.

Since it’s fall. And Halloween is approaching. And pumpkin anything ROCKS, I went with Pumpkin!!! So here is my 2 cents worth of recipes this week! These cookies came out so soft and cake-like!

Pumpkin Cookies

Ingredients

8 ounces butter, softened
1 cup splenda
1 cup packed brown sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 cup pumpkin puree
2 cups rolled oats
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon nutmeg
1 cup raisins (optional)
1 1/2 cups wheat flour

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).

2. Cream together butter, splenda, and brown sugar until fluffy. Beat in egg, vanilla and pumpkin.

3. In a separate bowl, mix together the oats, baking powder, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, raisins(if preferred) and flour. Stir into pumpkin mixture.

4. Drop cookies by the heaping teaspoonful on to cookie sheets covered with parchment paper. Bake 12 to 15 minutes or until slightly browned around edges.

5. Remove from oven and place on cooling racks. Enjoy!

Post it Note Tuesday - The Bachelor Party

2010-09-14T07:21:00.000-07:00

It is Post It Note Tuesday once again! Click on the link above to head on over to the Only Parent Chronicles to make your own or to just read some of the others notes.

If I'm Crazy, What Does That Make HER??

2010-09-12T16:36:00.000-07:00

She Listens.
She listens to ME!
She listens to me bitch.
She listens to me bitch about everything and complain about nothing.
She listens to my ranting, moaning, whining, things that make me happy, others that make me sad, things I remember, others that I just want to forget.
She listens.

And more importantly, she hears.
She hears me.
She hears me when I’m not asking for advice but need it, when I need consoled but haven’t made it obvious, when I just need someone to acknowledge my existence. She hears through few words that I am sad, that I am happy, that I am a little off my rocker and forgot to take my happy pills.
She hears.

She notices,
She notices things I don’t say, things I am not talking about, things I haven’t mentioned that maybe need to be brought out.

She cares,
Unconditionally, she cares about my well-being, my feelings, my dreams, my aspirations, my cranky ass, me.

She understands.
OK, she doesn’t always understand, but she tries. And even when she doesn’t totally get me, she still gets me.

She’s blunt, hasn’t got an ounce of sugar coating in her entire body. And I love her for that. She tells me what I need to hear, NOT what I want to hear. She offers words that are best fitted to the circumstance, instead of telling me something just to pacify my mood. If I am wandering too far from reality, she snaps me back into life.
She pays attention.

She’s creative. A great writer who happens to have an amazing idea for a novel that she needs to start writing! A great photographer. She’s very stylish and girly (the opposite of me).

She likes many things in opposition to my likes and likes few of the things that I do. She pisses me off. I piss her off. She thinks I am crazy. I think she is crazy. And at the end of the day, there isn’t anyone else I’d rather fit into my heart the way she fits.

She supports my decisions, no matter how far-fetched they may be. And even if she doesn’t completely agree with me, she still stands by my side and defends me.

She’s original.
She’s loyal.
She’s amazing.
She’s mouthy.
She’s cynical and bitter (like me).
She’s playful and funny.
She’s honest.
She’s one who could care less if she “fits” in, like me.
She’s a great mom.
She’s a great wife who needs spoiling more.

She’s always there for me.
And I will always be here for her.

"The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of confusion or despair, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing... not healing... not curing... that is a friend indeed." ~ Henri Nouwen

What I'd Give for One More Minute...

2010-09-11T07:19:00.001-07:00

Dear Dad,

Happy Birthday!

You’d really be getting on in your years., but I’m sure where you are there is no age. And no pain either. I know you suffered a lot.

If you were here, we’d be taking you to Olive Garden for your birthday dinner. Great times.

Kaida and Draven see your photos all the time, and your guitar, and they say, “That’s Grandpa!”

I wish they could have met you. I know you’d love them, and they’d adore you and wear you out every chance they got!

We’re having another baby. This one will be the last. You know I’ve always wanted a large family, but my body can’t physically handle going through this again. I guess I should pray for His help more, but I just don’t feel worthy of it.

Michelle is having another baby as well. She’s having a boy, the same time mine is due. Funny huh? It’s almost like we planned it together! Breonna is getting so big! Her and Draven both have your gorgeous blue eyes!

Toby still won’t talk to me. It’s been six years and his stubborn ass is still loaded with pride. He spends more time with the rest of the family now that he is on the rocks with his wife. Maybe someday he’ll grow up.

You left so fast that I never got to tell you how much you were appreciated. I missed out on so much growing up without you there. But you more than made up for it while I was in college. I got to know the real you, instead of the You everyone else told me about. Even though our time together was short, I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

I miss you so much.

I miss waking up in the middle of the night to your voice singing Marty Robins classics.

I miss the times in your garage with you, Toby, Todd, and Brad, just goofing off with music.

I miss the holiday dinners we’d have, where we’d trick you into eating food you claimed to hate!

I miss playing monopoly at all hours of the night, and having such hysterical laughing fits that no one else in the room could play anymore!

I miss everything about you.

I still cry when I hear your voice, when I look through photos, when I really remember that you’re gone. I don’t know how to be strong. Sometimes I still get angry. I waited so long to have you in my life, and when I finally had you in it you were taken. I still don’t understand.

I do thank God for the time we had together, and for allowing me to really get to know you.

I see you in my dreams often. It makes me feel like you are doing ok, but you’re still here, watching us. The most vivid still is where you reached through the glass window to hold my hand. I can still feel that. I will hold onto that dream forever.

Thank you for everything you did and everything you were. And still are to me.

I don’t know if you celebrate birthdays up there, but know that down here I’m still remembering you on yours.

I hope we see each other again some day. There is a song I play often that reminds me of you. It’s a country song, you would have loved it. It may be meant for a lost love, but it twists my heart every time I hear it and makes me think of you.

“I talk to friends, talk to myself, talk to God, I pray like hell but I still miss you.

I’ve tried sober, I’ve tried drinking, I’ve been strong and I’ve been weak but I still miss you.

I’ve done everything, moved on like I’m supposed to,

I’d give anything for one more minute with you,

I still miss you!”

I love you Dad! Happy Birthday!

Love, Me

Post it Note Tuesday - Don't be Bitter

2010-09-07T08:11:00.000-07:00

National Friendship Month: My BFF- From the Beginning

2010-09-04T17:44:00.001-07:00

September is National Friendship Month! How exciting.

It’s all about your BFF, making new friends, maybe finding old friends and reconnecting. In the blogging world there seems to be a big commotion about this month. My BFF over at the Blue Zoo is part of the Commotion Makers Guild, so head over to her page to check out the cool upcoming events. It sounds like a lot of fun. And, being her best friend makes me automatically out of the running for all the cool prizes and stuff. :( Cause she’s a judge, and extremely biased towards me… :) … and I already win because I DO have the bestest BFF EVER!!! So who else could she possibly pick over me? Yeah, so needless to say, I’m now a sponsor of the cool events and not a participant. But that is certainly not going to stop me from posting about my Bestie!

So bite me judges. Or send me some bite-sized brownies. You know, the little ones with the walnuts on top? Anyways, there is a lot to say about my one and only, so I am breaking it up into multiple posts. This first one is just a background of us, very brief background! How we met and all. Read on.

I believe we were 11 or 12 and it was the beginning of 7^th grade.

Yeah.

She was the new girl in school. Well, I was too but I had known most of the students for most of my life. We traveled a lot, which meant I went to many different schools (14 to be exact). But always managed to wind up back in Winnemucca.

Anyways, the first day she was there we met. And we just clicked. From that point on we did most everything together. You know, all the silly things teenage girls do: share boyfriends, share crushes, share pillows and clothes. There were 5 or maybe 7 of us, I think, who were all great friends. We’d pair off at different times for different things. But she and I were the most common pair.

I even called her mom, “Mom.” And she was one of the few friends my mom actually liked!

After three years, I moved again. Then she moved. We lost touch for a while, a long while actually. I moved again, she moved again. We were both on our own and living our own lives. After many more years we both ended up back in Winnemucca, simultaneously, and both pregnant, her with her last and me with my first.

We connected again instantly. I’d been through a lot of disappointing friendships on my broken road, so I was, of course, a little leery to dive right back into another. Even though we’d known each other for sooooo long, we’d been apart for long enough that we needed to really take the time to get to know each other again. And so we did.

Together, we have a lot in common. We also have a lot of differences. But somehow, we just connect.

I’ve had a rough 6 years, since my Dad died. Actually it was right before then that I broke my back. I had to drop out of college, then got married, Dad died, we sold our house, and moved 3000 miles back to sweet home Winnemucca, once again! Plus I had a very rugged childhood. So, throw all that into a pot and mix it up and you’ll understand why there are times when I’m not the friendliest person, or the easiest to get along with. To put it bluntly, I’m a bitch! I’ve been through a lot of twists in my life. So, I don’t take crap from people, I don’t let people walk all over me, and I tell people exactly what I think, something my hubby gets embarrassed by!

She also had an interesting journey on her road. She married the Scum of the Earth, but walked away alive, thankfully. She’d been through crappy relationships, interesting ones, moved a lot, than met Robert. She has 4 boys, well 5 including the husband, cause let’s face it, husbands are just large children that we have to also take care of!

We live 4 hours apart and are always talking either on the phone, through texting, or through Yahoo Messenger. We bitch, we nag, we plot ways to kill our husbands and collect their insurance money… did I say that out loud? Just kidding. Well, maybe. We talk about the kids, the families, all the stupid crap that pisses us each off. We piss each other off, but laugh about it later (at least I do). But, there isn’t anyone else I could talk to like I do her. She is my dearest and closest friend. And in the next post, I’ll tell you why.

Don’t forget to check out her page for other Friendship Month links and to just meet her if you haven’t already. She’s real, and she’s amazing.

Kaida Talk

2010-09-03T19:27:00.000-07:00

“Mommy, why you lookin’ at me?”

“Because I love you!”

Kaida smiles and snuggles into the couch across from me.

“And because I think you’re pretty awesome.”

“Pretty?” she asks because she loves to hear that she IS indeed pretty!

“No. I said, Pretty Awesome!”

“I not awesome, I Kaida!” she says as if she knows everything.

“Yes, and you’re pretty awesome!”

“No, me not AWESOME! ME KAIDA!!!!” this time there is frustration in her voice.

I laugh, and say, “Well you’re a pretty awesome Kaida.”

She smiles and says, “Yeah, awesome Kaida.” Then thinks for a moment. “I’m a princess!!”

I said, “Yes, you are.”

Then using both pointer fingers to point to herself, she very clearly and sternly says, “I’m Kaida, a PRINCESS!!!”

I laugh and say, “Yes, you ARE a princess. You are a Pretty Awesome Princess Kaida.”

She grins, very pleased with the talk.

Then Daddy walks in and sits down near her. She looks at him, then at me, smiles, and says, “I’m pretty awesome!”

Post it Note Tuesday

2010-08-31T08:12:00.000-07:00

That One Mom is now hosting Post It Note Tuesdays! If you'd like to make your own stickies, or want to read other peoples' Post Its, head on over there and visit her!

Share a Spoon - Cheese and Rosemary Breadsticks

2010-08-26T12:59:00.000-07:00

Bread week! Yummy! Who doesn't love breads?? I certainly do, and my ever-growing belly can verify that! OK, so yes there IS a baby in there, but she likes the breads too! :)

Now, I have the BEST recipe EVER for Homemade Dinner Rolls. Seriously, they are the BEST!! My mother-in-law has perfected the recipe.
And, no joke here, I had to MARRY my husband to GET this recipe!!! (why yes, I guess I DID have ulterior motives ;))

It's a secret family recipe! VERY secret. And I am getting pretty good at making them!! BUT, if I shared it with you all, my dear father-in-law would probably string me up by my toes! So, you can't have it! But if anyone ever visits me, I'll be sure to make you some! :) The neighbors love when I make them, cause I make an extra pan for them!

The recipe I WILL be sharing is for some very delectable breadsticks. We got this recipe from a book called Everyday Italian. Hubby makes these usually while I make the homemade chicken alfredo. They freaking ROCK!!!! And they are pretty easy to make. Very worth it.

1/3 cup grated Gruyere cheese or Swiss cheese
1/4 cup grated Parmesan cheese
1 teaspoon freshly chopped rosemary
1 {11 ounce} container of refrigerated bread-stick dough (like Pillsbury)
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line 2 large baking sheets with parchment paper.

Chop the cheeses and rosemary together to mince and blend. Set aside.

Separate dough rectangles. Using sharp knife, cut each dough rectangle in half lengthwise to form 2 thin strips from each rectangle.

Lightly brush oil over the strips.

Coat each strip with the cheese mixture, then roll each strip between your palms and the work surface to form an 8-inch long strip.

Transfer prepared strips to baking sheets and sprinkle with salt.
[The breadsticks can be prepared up to this point 4 hours ahead. Just cover tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate.]

Bake until breadsticks are golden brown, about 15 minutes. Serve and enjoy! :)

Now head on over to the very awesome Think Tank Momma's place to link up your favorite recipes and get some new ones!

Human Again...

2010-08-25T12:48:00.001-07:00

She was made to feel human again.

To feel peace.

Patience.

Understanding.

She Happily took Everything that was offered, without giving much in return, regretfully.

Her very being emanated the savory taste of what she was capable of. The love she had inside that was dying to get out. To be shared with someone worthy.

Worthiness came. Worthiness left.

Did she recognize what she was looking at? Did she know what was there, hovering just within her grasp?

No.

Yes.

She cannot understand why she let it flutter away. Why she didn’t put up enough of a struggle to keep it in her grasp.

She hears voices telling her this is the way it is supposed to be.

She disagrees. And yet, does nothing to change.

She holds her head up. She hides her tears. She smiles. But She has slipped further into the void then she ever has before. She is lifeless and so far gone she feels nothing.

She believes God does give more than we can handle. But maybe He has His reasons. Maybe He is trying to make us stronger.

Crabby Ass

2010-08-23T16:21:00.000-07:00

Lack of focus and the attention span of a three-year-old is making it very difficult for me to keep up with Blogging lately.

A thousand apologies to people I usually communicate more with. Not that I have many fans/followers/friends, but you know, just in case. I do miss reading other people's posts.

It feels like all I do is piss and moan about being pregnant, or just plain piss and moan, because I am after all, incredibly miserable. My BFF can verify that! :) I'm not nice, not even to her! She's the one who actually named this Post. It's actually what she calls ME lately! And I do love her, but my out-of-control emotions are even too out-of-control for ME!!! I piss myself off too often, send myself to time-out. But no one ever lets me STAY there long enough.

There are many parts of me unhealed and broken. And all I can do is take it "one day at a time" (a favorite line of mine imprinted in my head and heart by another dear heart). I am in an insane amount of pain on a daily basis, and nightly (yes, even while I sleep, or try to). And this tends to make me INSANE!!! Sometimes it is even difficult to walk! And I'm barely halfway through the pregnancy. So I believe I am in for some major misery, especially since my little button has REALLY started to grow!

I am ecstatic to be having another baby. I do really want a large family. I just wish I could WISH all the babies here!! Or let Daddy make a few!

And recently learning that the doctor who discovered the split in my pelvis after having my daughter (she was 10 lbs. 13 oz and had to be taken by emergency c-section) three and a half years ago COULD have actually fixed it and DIDN'T makes me one angry pregnant woman!!!

So, I am not going to stress about more than I actually need to at this time. I am basically declaring right here and now that I am on sabbatical from Blogging for a while. And from doing all the awesome art projects and scrapbook projects that are in my head. And from focusing on my company as much as I want to. And basically from focusing at all. I have the memory of a goldfish right now (3 seconds for those who didn't know). If I happen to make a post, I'll be ecstatic! But I'm not holding my breath on any major or minor accomplishments right now, save for making it through this pregnancy alive!

Can Anyone Explain THIS???

2010-08-14T08:51:00.000-07:00

We had a very strange night last night. Something I can say that I have NEVER experienced before! Ever! Not even seen before!!

I had a horrendous migraine last night! So I was in bed early. Todd put the kids to bed then came to bed himself.

Around 1am Kaida woke up crying. I laid there a moment to see if she'd fall asleep again, cause often she does. Suddenly she starts screaming this blood curdling scream! My heart stopped and I jumped up and ran down the hall, opened the door to their room and flipped on the light. I looked instantly in her bed to see she was fighting with something against her wall up on the top bunk. Physically fighting with something I couldn't see! I ran over and yanked her off her bed and calmed her down. After a while she told me spiders were trying to bite her eye, the one that Draven had hit.

So I brought her to bed with me. We're laying there, calmly getting ready to go back to sleep, she's still awake mind you, and starts swatting the air and screaming again. This time it woke Todd up and this time she wouldn't calm down.

I told him, "She's wide awake and sees spiders attacking her." So he takes her and wraps her in his arms under the covers and tells her, "Daddy's got you, it's safe honey."

She calms down again and I snuggle up to them, so she's almost sandwiched between us. A few quiet minutes pass then she starts screaming again, swatting at the air, pointing at the ceiling shouting, "Daddy, LOOK!!!!" And he's trying to calm her and she's squirming like something is actually attacking her! I wanted to start crying, I was so scared for her and felt so helpless.

So we calm her again. She keeps looking at my face and feeling my cheeks, can't explain why though. I just telling her she's ok and she's safe. She starts screaming AGAIN! This time Daddy turned on the light and even with the light on she's screaming and pointing at the foot of the bed screaming, "LOOOOOK!!!!!" Daddy and myself kept trying to tell her she was still dreaming, but she was still so scared. The only thing I could think to do was put a happy movie in, Finding Nemo, and let it change her mindframe.

Well we had Draven in there at this point, all the screaming had him worried about Sissy. They were both wide awake until long after Todd got up to go to work. Probably because we had to leave the lamps on because the spiders were gone in light. And throughout the movie, Kaida kept looking around the room for more spiders! It was really an awful night!

I've never seen anything like it. And Todd and myself were so helpless towards helping her fight off these invisible spiders. Invisible to us anyhow. Mommy needs to do some serious research today.

Share a Spoon - Breakfast

2010-08-12T07:58:00.000-07:00

Today is Share a Spoon day, hosted by Think Tank Momma! And YAY for me, I got to pick today's topic!! And it is breakfast! This is a healthy sweeter option for breakfast. Would be great for mommy and daddy with a cup of hot coffee and for the kiddos with hot chocolate or orange juice. It's also a nice comfort food! Can make it anytime really, cause Hey, for me, breakfast is good all day long!!! Enjoy!!!

BREAKFAST OATMEAL CAKE

Oatmeal Mixture:

2 cups dry oats

1 and ½ cups boiling water (might use just a little more, just enough to wet all the oats and keep them from clumping)

Combine ingredients and let sit while you do everything else. Mixture should be thick, but not clumpy.

Flour Mixture:

1 cup wheat flour

2 teaspoons cinnamon

1 teaspoon nutmeg

½ teaspoon baking soda

2 teaspoons baking powder

½ teaspoon salt

Combine and set aside.

It helps tremendously to have a Kaida on the counter to stir the neglected ingredients while you make the next mixture.

Sugar Mixture:

¾ cup Splenda (yes splenda, not sugar, it’s healthier)

½ cup Packed Brown Sugar

½ cup Softened Butter

1 teaspoon Vanilla

Beat ingredients together well before adding the following ingredients:

2 eggs (add them 1 at a time, beating mixture in between)

Helpers are key in this recipe! Without them, you'd have less to clean up afterwards! :)

Next, add all Mixtures to Sugar Mixture, alternating Oatmeal Mixture and Flour Mixture, beating on low after each addition. Once all ingredients are combined, pour into a greased 9” foam spring pan (whatever that is!). I use a glass square pan and a bread pan because I don’t have an oblong baking pan to fit all the ingredients, and I like the cake to come out thick! You can also pour batter into Muffin Pans, but I am too lazy for that most days!

Bake at 350 degrees for 40-45 minutes. At higher altitudes (we are just over 6000 ft) it generally takes mine almost a full hour to cook. Just start checking it with a toothpick at 40 minutes.

Once the timer goes off the first time, baste the top of the cake/muffins with butter to add flavor and brown the tops better! I use the lower fat butters.

Some tips:

-Using splenda actually lightens the cake up and makes it fluffier, whereas using sugar really weighs it down and flattens it! In the image above, I used sugar because I was out of splenda, and it really flattened out my cake!!

-After the first time you open a package of Brown Sugar, seal it up in a zip-lock bag and stick it in the freezer. Then every time you need it, pop it in the microwave for 30 seconds and Wallah! It’s moist and soft again!

Now head on over to Think Tank Momma's place for some more awesome breakfast recipes!

Wordless Wednesday - Aspiring Little Arteests!

2010-08-11T08:17:00.000-07:00

In this household, we LOVE to be creative! Even first thing in the morning before my little Medusa Head has been all dolled up!

For more Wordless Wednesday Posts, head over to 5 Minutes for Mom.

All in just an HOUR!!!

2010-08-07T08:22:00.000-07:00

So most of the time, pregnant women go through a SLEW of emotions, drastically from one to the next: cold, HOT, ice, you get it!

Here are some examples of my freaking uncontrollable, ridiculous, absurdly changing emotions!
I wake up like this... every single morning. And very early I might add!! Very early.

And I am instantly in THIS mood:

And then when I go to get dressed, I feel like THIS:

And then for no apparent reason, I turn into THIS:

Which occasionally is offset by THIS:

And sometimes complimented with THIS:

But consistently enough, I totally feel like THIS. ALL. THE. TIME!!!

Shadow Knight

2010-08-06T07:28:00.000-07:00

Blood pressure rises.

Heart beats uncontrollably.

Breath quickens.

Body tenses.

Eyes search for the culprit causing this emotional drama, but there is only darkness.

I relax back into position.

On my stomach lying safely in bed with the sheet barely draped over my back.

I feel the cool night air finding its way through the window above my head.

Then I feel the soft hum of his deep, raspy growl moving closer. Feel his warm breath on my back.

Fingers glide like a feather over my legs. Sheet slips off.

Body relaxes. Surrenders as his fingers slide up my back.

He brushes the hair from my face as he leans in to kiss my forehead. He runs his fingers through my hair, gently grasping it to direct my lips towards his.

A kiss.

A whisper.

Then nothing.

I turn and sit up. Look around at the empty bed.

He’s gone. Am I dreaming?

Share a Spoon - Quickies!

2010-08-04T20:17:00.000-07:00

Yeah, I'm a few hours early on tomorrow's post, but right now, I remember!!! LOL! In a few hours I will completely forget that I am supposed to post this for Thursday!!!

I have loved this recipe since I was a kid. LOVE love love it!!! My mom made it best. It may take about an hour to cook, but really, the stove does most of the work! Try it, it's worth it.

Pork Chop Chile

Fry up bite size potatoes - (amount depends on how many peeps you're feeding and how much leftovers you're gonna want tomorrow)

Cut pork chops or pork loin into cubes and fry it (in separate pan from taters)

Combine with potatoes

Add:

Tomato sauce

Chili powder

Garlic powder

Onion powder or chopped onion

Other preferred seasonings for taste

1 can of drained whole kernel corn

Simmer for an hour till it’s thick

Make into burritos or serve in a bowl as is. (Yummy either way!!)

Cheese is optional

Sorry for the lack of photos here, I haven't actually made it lately! But it will look a lot like fried potatoes mixed with bites of pork in tomato sauce with corn!

Enjoy!

Now go over to Think Tank Momma's place and link up your Quickie recipes!

A Pregnant Wave of WTF!!

2010-08-03T11:07:00.000-07:00

Pregnancy.

Yeah, it's not for me.

I would LOVE to have a large family. But having to be the one who makes them... it's not working out so well.

I have a mostly healed crushed vertebra that still hurts like HELL!! If you've never broken anything, let me explain. Apparently, you use your back muscles for every single action the rest of your body makes. Seriously, not exaggerating there. I found that out when I was unable to use it at all! I have a split in my pelvis which I just learned COULD have been fixed but the doc at the time just gave me pain killers and sent me home. The pelvis issue prevents me from doing decent exercise and some days prevents me from walking altogether. I'm barely 4 months along. So as the baby gets bigger, which is inevitable, mommy enters deeper realms of HELL!!

So, aside from those pain levels, we have the ridiculous sensitivity to smells, to lights, to hallmark commercials, to too much of something I may LOVE, to too little of something I keep forgetting to buy, to my 2- and 3-year old's screaming and fighting 80% of the day, to sleeping, to country music, to my husband, to sitting for too long (like 30 minutes), to sex, to heat, to the sun, and to people who want to complain that THEY feel fat.

I'm a gemini, so I'm already hanging on a swinging door of drastically changing emotions. But now that I am pregnant, I can't even keep up with myself!! And I'm freaking cranky! I have no patience or tolerance for anything!!!! I piss myself off.

It's insane.

I also have a grave sensitivity to women who tell me how much they LOVED being pregnant. UGH! Go away! Not all of us are blessed with solid and constant delusions. I don't doubt there are many women out there who never have a single negative side effect throughout the entire pregnancy. But really, I don't want to hear about it when I am PLAGUED with them. Just lie to me and tell me you understand!!!

I love the outcome of being pregnant. I love my children and cannot wait to meet this busy little kicker. And if I could simply WISH the babies here, I'd definitely have more. But when the doc cuts me open to take out this wee one, my freaking tubes are getting tied!!