Sarah has now graduated from cussing to taking the Lord’s name in vain.
I have been more conscious of my cussing around the house, especially since writing my confession. But this evening we were watching something on TV while eating a treat (another bad habit I’m instilling in my kids) when something was said that must have been so ridiculous it prompted a boisterous response from me, because, you know, I never over react. (wink, wink)
I said rather loudly, “Oh my God!”
Next thing I know I hear Sarah’s high-pitched voice, “Oh my God.” Throwing up her arms in outrage and knocking over her glass in the process.
She did a drama queen proud…
Her mother was brought down another notch…
And I’m sure her preacher grandmother is cringing about right now.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Speechless
Today would have been my father's 84th birthday, but we lost him to cancer on October 24, 2000. I've been trying to think of what I can say about him on this blog for the last 24 hours, but nothing comes to mind. What can I say about a man I miss so much, my heart still literally aches when I think of him 10 years after his death.
The only thing that has continually popped in my head is this photo taken before he walked me down the aisle at my wedding. Pat and I have wished since our wedding night that we had just taken the money we spent on the cermony and reception and eloped to Vegas. It would have been so much simpler. But then I wouldn't have this picture.
Happy birthday, Daddy.
I love you.
From: Your "Sugar"
The only thing that has continually popped in my head is this photo taken before he walked me down the aisle at my wedding. Pat and I have wished since our wedding night that we had just taken the money we spent on the cermony and reception and eloped to Vegas. It would have been so much simpler. But then I wouldn't have this picture.
Happy birthday, Daddy.
I love you.
From: Your "Sugar"
Friday, March 26, 2010
Monday, March 22, 2010
Welcome Spring...I Think
Our last day of winter was beautiful. The sun was out with a temp in the mid-70's. It was the perfect day to drive around listening to some amped up U2 and the windows rolled down. A great way to say good-bye to an unusual winter for us here in the south. Remember? We had snow for the first time on Christmas Day. Then there was that freak blizzard that left us without power for a couple days. I was very anxious to leave this winter in the past and welcome spring with open arms and open windows.
So what was the first day of spring like?
FREAKING COLD!
For our usual Saturday romp we had to bundle up in our coats and sweaters, items I had almost packed away a few days before. Thank God for low energy.
How was the second day of winter? I woke to this...
And this...
And this...
3 to 4 inches. Seriously? In March? In the land of "if you've had one snow day, you know you're done for the year?"
My youngest takes after me. She clung to her Ziggy and made a cocoon for herself in the middle of her room.
If winter threatens not to secede, that looks like a good plan to me.
So what was the first day of spring like?
FREAKING COLD!
For our usual Saturday romp we had to bundle up in our coats and sweaters, items I had almost packed away a few days before. Thank God for low energy.
How was the second day of winter? I woke to this...
And this...
And this...
3 to 4 inches. Seriously? In March? In the land of "if you've had one snow day, you know you're done for the year?"
My youngest takes after me. She clung to her Ziggy and made a cocoon for herself in the middle of her room.
If winter threatens not to secede, that looks like a good plan to me.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Proof I’m a Crappy Mom
I’m really embarrassed to write what I'm about to, but if I can’t confess on this blog, where else can I?
I cuss like a sailor (to use a cliché, and because I’m too sleepy after lunch to think of something more original.) I have so many friends who, like “good Christian women”, stop using profanity when they have kids. When one slips out of my mouth during a conversation with them, they wince like I just made them drink curdled milk. I have tried and tried and tried some more to quit, but it’s just part of my vocabulary. I mean, what can express frustration, immense joy, and sometimes even flat-out boredom, better than a choice 4-letter word? Plus, hearing the stories of my maternal grandfather, it’s in my blood, man. I can’t fight it.
This fairly regular (I’m wincing now because I know that’s not completely accurate. Hush, Pat!) spillage of profanity has it’s consequences, though. I give you the top moments that immediately come to mind.
One note – I’d like my mother and aunt to stop reading here.
Seriously, stop reading.
Now!
Ok. Others may proceed…
Christmas Eve and the “Flock”
Savannah was 3 this Christmas Eve. We were waiting for the children’s Christmas program to begin. Yes, we were IN CHURCH, and Pat was in the back acting as USHER to the GOOD, WHOLESOME people who came in, and we were surrounded by GRANDPARENTS and other CHILDREN.
Savannah was innocently, and ever so preciously, coloring the front of the bulletin. She angled her leg just slightly and the crayons fell to the floor. Remember, it is QUIET before the service and we are SURROUNDED. Savannah said what she felt was appropriate – the mother of all words - the f-bomb.
BAM!
Everyone 3 rows up and back looked at us with complete shock and I believe I even saw some disdain from a few faces. I did what any “good” mother would do. I patted Savannah lovingly and said, “You’re so smart, Sweetie. That IS a flock you’re coloring.”
I’m laughing hysterically right now out of sheer embarrassment. But I’ll continue on.
The “Frog” In the Store
Pat and I were pushing Savannah in a cart through Target. This was just a couple months after the previous…chronicle. Suddenly Savannah blurted out something that started with the letter f….again. I believe she said it just to hear her voice echo in the store. That means she said it loud enough to get an echo in a very large store.
Pat stopped the cart and looked at me.
“What did she just say?”
“Uh, frog. She said frog, honey.”
He gave me this doubtful look.
“Seriously, honey. How would she know that other word?”
I was trying to cover my obvious failings in motherhood.
Sarah’s Turn
Not long ago, about a month ago I believe, Sarah, our 2 year old (even younger than Savannah was!), was pushing one of her toys around in the living room. Pat was being a good father and playing with her. I have no idea what provoked this because I was lying on the couch and probably yelling profanities at the damn Wii game, but suddenly I heard a soft, sweet voice say, “Shit.”
I shot up and looked at Pat who was already burning a hole in my head because I had obviously tarnished another one.
“Did she just say…?”
“I hope not,” was all I could say as I sank back down into the cushions.
Savannah was 3 with her first cuss word, Sarah was 2. Maybe our son’s first words will be, ‘Oh hell, Mommy.”
Testing the Limits
A couple months ago Savannah was giving me the scoop on her day. I asked her something as I was putting clothes away and she said, “Oh shit.”
I stopped everything and just looked at her. When she found the courage she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye.
“Is that ok?” she asked sheepishly.
“Uh….no. No, Savannah, it’s not okay.”
She then replied with something every parent hates to hear, “But you say it.”
Oh (BLEEP!). Well, she had me there. So what did I do?
I made the Crappy-Parent-Deal because I realize it’s in her blood, too. “Just refrain for a few years and you can cuss when you’re in the upper grades of high school, but ONLY at home and ONLY with me and Dad. That’s it!”
Dear God, I’m a bad mom.
Please don’t judge me….too harshly.
It’s just words, right?
Out of the mouths of babes.
I cuss like a sailor (to use a cliché, and because I’m too sleepy after lunch to think of something more original.) I have so many friends who, like “good Christian women”, stop using profanity when they have kids. When one slips out of my mouth during a conversation with them, they wince like I just made them drink curdled milk. I have tried and tried and tried some more to quit, but it’s just part of my vocabulary. I mean, what can express frustration, immense joy, and sometimes even flat-out boredom, better than a choice 4-letter word? Plus, hearing the stories of my maternal grandfather, it’s in my blood, man. I can’t fight it.
This fairly regular (I’m wincing now because I know that’s not completely accurate. Hush, Pat!) spillage of profanity has it’s consequences, though. I give you the top moments that immediately come to mind.
One note – I’d like my mother and aunt to stop reading here.
Seriously, stop reading.
Now!
Ok. Others may proceed…
Christmas Eve and the “Flock”
Savannah was 3 this Christmas Eve. We were waiting for the children’s Christmas program to begin. Yes, we were IN CHURCH, and Pat was in the back acting as USHER to the GOOD, WHOLESOME people who came in, and we were surrounded by GRANDPARENTS and other CHILDREN.
Savannah was innocently, and ever so preciously, coloring the front of the bulletin. She angled her leg just slightly and the crayons fell to the floor. Remember, it is QUIET before the service and we are SURROUNDED. Savannah said what she felt was appropriate – the mother of all words - the f-bomb.
BAM!
Everyone 3 rows up and back looked at us with complete shock and I believe I even saw some disdain from a few faces. I did what any “good” mother would do. I patted Savannah lovingly and said, “You’re so smart, Sweetie. That IS a flock you’re coloring.”
I’m laughing hysterically right now out of sheer embarrassment. But I’ll continue on.
The “Frog” In the Store
Pat and I were pushing Savannah in a cart through Target. This was just a couple months after the previous…chronicle. Suddenly Savannah blurted out something that started with the letter f….again. I believe she said it just to hear her voice echo in the store. That means she said it loud enough to get an echo in a very large store.
Pat stopped the cart and looked at me.
“What did she just say?”
“Uh, frog. She said frog, honey.”
He gave me this doubtful look.
“Seriously, honey. How would she know that other word?”
I was trying to cover my obvious failings in motherhood.
Sarah’s Turn
Not long ago, about a month ago I believe, Sarah, our 2 year old (even younger than Savannah was!), was pushing one of her toys around in the living room. Pat was being a good father and playing with her. I have no idea what provoked this because I was lying on the couch and probably yelling profanities at the damn Wii game, but suddenly I heard a soft, sweet voice say, “Shit.”
I shot up and looked at Pat who was already burning a hole in my head because I had obviously tarnished another one.
“Did she just say…?”
“I hope not,” was all I could say as I sank back down into the cushions.
Savannah was 3 with her first cuss word, Sarah was 2. Maybe our son’s first words will be, ‘Oh hell, Mommy.”
Testing the Limits
A couple months ago Savannah was giving me the scoop on her day. I asked her something as I was putting clothes away and she said, “Oh shit.”
I stopped everything and just looked at her. When she found the courage she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye.
“Is that ok?” she asked sheepishly.
“Uh….no. No, Savannah, it’s not okay.”
She then replied with something every parent hates to hear, “But you say it.”
Oh (BLEEP!). Well, she had me there. So what did I do?
I made the Crappy-Parent-Deal because I realize it’s in her blood, too. “Just refrain for a few years and you can cuss when you’re in the upper grades of high school, but ONLY at home and ONLY with me and Dad. That’s it!”
Dear God, I’m a bad mom.
Please don’t judge me….too harshly.
It’s just words, right?
Out of the mouths of babes.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
I'm Back
I took an unintentional break from blogging. I’ve been consumed with changes that are coming my way and the worry that is growing during this “wait and see” perod.
I‘m writing this at 4:50 on a Saturday morning. This is the first day I’ve been able to sleep in for 2 weeks and I can’t keep my eyes closed. I’ve been lying awake staring into the black (both literally and figuratively) since 3 o’something. I’ve been thinking of all the challenges we’ll be facing over the next few months and searching for solutions, but my mind comes up – well, black.
I’m filled with worry – and it sucks!
We have such a joyous occasion ahead of us. Our son is due to arrive in just 10 weeks. I cannot wait to meet him and hold an infant in my arms again. There is something so sweet and precious about those moments. And they are just moments. It passes too quickly.
So this morning I wake with a full bladder somewhere around 3:00, take care of it, and when I lay back down Worry 1 makes an appearance. Then Worry 2 decides to make it a duet, which leads to Worry 3 trying to snatch some of the spotlight. All of this then leads to a whole new worry I didn’t even realize existed, and now it’s trying to get some attention.
You know how it goes.
This whole show has been going on for the past few nights and it’s seeped into the daytime hours as well. At least the cost is less during the day, as matinees usually are. I have other things vying for my attention when the sun is out.
But at night, when everyone’s asleep, the Worries come out like Thing 1 and Thing 2 from the Dr. Seuss book, stirring up this and that and basically wreaking havoc.
Now if only the Cat in the Hat could come and make everything neat and tidy again.
If only.
I‘m writing this at 4:50 on a Saturday morning. This is the first day I’ve been able to sleep in for 2 weeks and I can’t keep my eyes closed. I’ve been lying awake staring into the black (both literally and figuratively) since 3 o’something. I’ve been thinking of all the challenges we’ll be facing over the next few months and searching for solutions, but my mind comes up – well, black.
I’m filled with worry – and it sucks!
We have such a joyous occasion ahead of us. Our son is due to arrive in just 10 weeks. I cannot wait to meet him and hold an infant in my arms again. There is something so sweet and precious about those moments. And they are just moments. It passes too quickly.
So this morning I wake with a full bladder somewhere around 3:00, take care of it, and when I lay back down Worry 1 makes an appearance. Then Worry 2 decides to make it a duet, which leads to Worry 3 trying to snatch some of the spotlight. All of this then leads to a whole new worry I didn’t even realize existed, and now it’s trying to get some attention.
You know how it goes.
This whole show has been going on for the past few nights and it’s seeped into the daytime hours as well. At least the cost is less during the day, as matinees usually are. I have other things vying for my attention when the sun is out.
But at night, when everyone’s asleep, the Worries come out like Thing 1 and Thing 2 from the Dr. Seuss book, stirring up this and that and basically wreaking havoc.
Now if only the Cat in the Hat could come and make everything neat and tidy again.
If only.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Friday Night Update
I guess I can't pawn the craziness I referred to last Tuesday on to my family. My brother-in-law, Dren, gave Savannah this t-shirt for her birthday last week.
("If you think I'm crazy, you should see my mother.")
He bought this before my post. I guess my reputation precedes me.
Looking a little cocky, aren't we, Dren?
Or is that fear I see???
On another, happier note...
Ziggy, Sarah's beloved stuffed zebra/cat mutant that she can't sleep or breathe without, went missing for a few days. She found it somehow, somewhere today. No one knows where Ziggy was hiding.....or why. He/She/It is filthy, so I don't think I want to know. Maybe Ziggy just needed a little quiet time. You know, a moment to ponder life's deepest questions without a toddler twirling her tail and gripping her neck so hard the stuffing falls out.
All I know is we'll all be sleeping more sound tonight.
("If you think I'm crazy, you should see my mother.")
He bought this before my post. I guess my reputation precedes me.
Looking a little cocky, aren't we, Dren?
Or is that fear I see???
On another, happier note...
Ziggy, Sarah's beloved stuffed zebra/cat mutant that she can't sleep or breathe without, went missing for a few days. She found it somehow, somewhere today. No one knows where Ziggy was hiding.....or why. He/She/It is filthy, so I don't think I want to know. Maybe Ziggy just needed a little quiet time. You know, a moment to ponder life's deepest questions without a toddler twirling her tail and gripping her neck so hard the stuffing falls out.
All I know is we'll all be sleeping more sound tonight.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Sarah's Going Crazy
“Hey. How’s it going?”
“Do I have something on my face?”
Uh…Sarah?
Where’s your pants?
“The dog took ‘em.”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
In the meantime my oldest daughter, who used to be crazy, is working to become a proper young lady.
Gone are the days of pantless dancing.
Although she does still have a little of the wild child in her. The bangs in her eyes make her “feel cool.”
Who am I kidding? They’re all crazy!
“Do I have something on my face?”
Uh…Sarah?
Where’s your pants?
“The dog took ‘em.”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
In the meantime my oldest daughter, who used to be crazy, is working to become a proper young lady.
Gone are the days of pantless dancing.
Although she does still have a little of the wild child in her. The bangs in her eyes make her “feel cool.”
Who am I kidding? They’re all crazy!
Monday, March 1, 2010
Here We Go Again
Oh no.
Puh-leez no.
Don’t tell me it’s starting all over again.
During my 6th month, I felt better than I had the entire pregnancy. I had a little more energy, no nausea, and most importantly, no cramping or bleeding.
I’ve now entered the last trimester…
*slight pause for celebration*
HAPPY DANCE!
(Imagine Elaine on “Seinfeld” with the weird kicks and thumbs up.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xi4O1yi6b0
*Ok. I’m done*
…and for the last few days I’ve been fighting nausea. Major nausea. Please don’t tell me I’m going to end this pregnancy the way I started – completely green. Just call me the Grinch, which pretty much matches my attitude lately. Hence, the reason for not much blogging the last few days.
This is just the final confirmation -- this WILL be the LAST pregnancy. One of us is getting tied, snipped, or castrated. No finger pointing yet, but I can feel it coming.
Puh-leez no.
Don’t tell me it’s starting all over again.
During my 6th month, I felt better than I had the entire pregnancy. I had a little more energy, no nausea, and most importantly, no cramping or bleeding.
I’ve now entered the last trimester…
*slight pause for celebration*
HAPPY DANCE!
(Imagine Elaine on “Seinfeld” with the weird kicks and thumbs up.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xi4O1yi6b0
*Ok. I’m done*
…and for the last few days I’ve been fighting nausea. Major nausea. Please don’t tell me I’m going to end this pregnancy the way I started – completely green. Just call me the Grinch, which pretty much matches my attitude lately. Hence, the reason for not much blogging the last few days.
This is just the final confirmation -- this WILL be the LAST pregnancy. One of us is getting tied, snipped, or castrated. No finger pointing yet, but I can feel it coming.
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