Bean is getting FAT!! Check out the chins. However, she is sleeping through the night so I don't care! 

Baby Girl in her vampiress costume. She always wants to be "something dead" for Halloween. 

Bug in her witch costume that NaNa bought her. She managed to put a spell on everyone she came into contact with that night. 

Puberty and Punctuation

I’ve got so much that I need to write about to get everyone caught up on the past 7 months but I’ve just GOT to share Baby Girl’s most recent “adventure” first. Let me just say that if and when she ever reads this blog she will probably already have been in therapy for quite some time so I’m not very concerned about the “damage” this post might cause. Baby Girl is becoming a WOMAN……….

So, over the Summer it became very noticeable that Baby Girl’s body was starting to develop. We’ve bought the training bra in order to make sure that her new “additions” are kept in check – she hates it and won’t wear it. I believe this is because she is holding out for the “formed cup” model. That’s right – they now have bras for little people that look like the Wonder Bra with fully formed, padded cups! And we wonder why we are constantly seeing those “To Catch a Predator” shows!?!?

Anyway, about a week ago Baby Girl started complaining that she had some stuff going on “down there”. Well, being that talking about her “down there” isn’t something we normally do – I will admit I was a little uncomfortable. I took her to the doctor to rule out any medical conditions that could be associated with the symptoms she described and she came back with a clean bill of health. So, basically now I’m just screwed trying to figure out how to talk to my 9 year old, which still want’s to watch Scooby Doo all day, what is happening to her body. Like any good parent, I did my research. I got online and searched for answers and I found tons of information about talking to your daughter about puberty. I got home from work that night, went in Baby Girl’s room, sat on the side of her bed, took a deep breath and handed her a piece of paper with a web address for her to check out. I know…..I’m a chicken. Plus, I don’t know what she already knows so I don’t want to just start asking her questions for fear that I will bring up something that she’d never thought about until I opened my big mouth.

So, I sent her to www.kidhealth.org (which is a WONDERFUL site for kids to get information in their own language about all types of stuff they deal with growing up) and she started reading. The more she read the more questions she had which was kind of what I was hoping would happen. I was felling really good about how I’d handled this milestone in her life. We talked about how she needed to wear her training bra. She was disgusted to find out that she would eventually grow hair under her arms and in other areas. She seemed to begin to understand what was going on with her “down there” and the conversation started to taper off when Bean started to fuss for her dinner. I moved into the den and Baby Girl and Honey were still in the kitchen (him cooking and her reading). All of a sudden Baby Girl says, “Oh no – I’m NOT doing that!” I am horrified by this as my first thought is that I didn’t check out the website as thoroughly as I’d thought and she was now being bombarded with porn. Honey walked around so that he could see what she was looking at and said, “You’re not doing what?” “I’m NOT having this period thing!” she replied.

I started to laugh. Partly because I was relieved that she wasn’t looking at a bunch of smut and partly because I knew I was about to get to drop a bomb on her. I said, “Well, Baby Girl, you really don’t have much choice.” I explained about how that’s the way are bodies are made and how getting her period is a sign that she’s growing into a woman. Honey chimes in with, “And once you get your period you have to stay away from boys”. He is SOOO helpful with this kind of stuff. Baby Girl is adamant that she is NOT going to get her period or her question mark or semicolon for that matter and that was FINAL. I told here that she might as well get over it because it’s GOING to happen whether she likes it or not. She puts her hands on her hips and says, “So, how long is this period thing going to last?” I said, “Do you mean each time?” Her eyes got as big a saucers and she says, “What do you mean EACH TIME?!?!” I then had to explain that not only was she going to be cursed with this horrible affliction to her “down there” but that it would reoccur every month. She was not at all happy to hear this. She says, “Every month?!?! Forever?!?!” I tell her that it doesn’t last forever but it was something she was going to have to deal with for many years to come. She asked if I still had to deal with it and I told her unfortunately, yes. She rolled her eyes and said, “Oh GREAT, this thing is going to last until I’m REALLY old!” I thanked her for calling me old but reassured her that it’s really not a big deal and that when it happens we will deal with it.

She seemed to start to wrap her brain around the idea and started to loose some of the defiance and all of a sudden she began to smile. I was concerned because it was that “I’m up to something” smile. She then announces that she guesses it will be ok for her to get her period because then she won’t have to go to school. I informed her that it didn’t work that way, that she didn’t get to stay home from school because she was on her monthly cycle. To which she responded, “But you always say, ‘Unless you have a broken bone, are throwing up or bleeding you’d better get your butt out of bed and get ready for school’ and gave me the biggest “Nah” smile she could muster.

I HATE it when my words come back to bite me in the butt! So, in my future I can foresee lots of dramatic pleas to stay home due to cramps or because the only pants she has clean are white. I just know I will get a monthly call from the school to pick her up because she can never remember when she should “be prepared”. But I think my favorite step in this trip to womanhood is going to be the first time I hear that scream from the bathroom because her Kotex managed to flip sticky side up!

Oh, the joys of raising girls…..anybody looking to adopt?

Is There A Doctor In The House??

So – my doctor decides that since I normally have extremely short labors (Baby Girl was born 25 minutes after I got to the hospital) that I should be induced in order to ensure that he was present for the birth……..little did he know.

First of all, Dr. Gyno obviously doesn’t know me very well at all as he ordered me to be at the hospital at 6:30AM. That’s right – 6:30 IN THE MORNING!!! So, before dawn on the morning of September 20th, I double checked my bag to make sure I had everything, made coffee for Honey and waited on Erin and Honey’s Mom to arrive to stay with Baby Girl and Bug. I was not having coffee because the sadistic people that make the rules of childbirth deemed that a PREGNANT woman can’t eat or drink after midnight prior to being induced. Now, I’m not sure how this rule is fair. If I were to go into labor spontaneously, what is the likely hood it would only occur 7 hours after my last meal??? I want to know if they penalize women whose water breaks while they are eating dinner?!?!? Is there some substantial fine they have to pay because if so – I’ve got GREAT insurance and would gladly tack on an additional “ate before labor” fee if it meant I could have my brownie and ice cream at 2am and my coffee in the morning!

But I digress. Erin and Honey’s Mom arrive and I snuck in Baby Girl’s room to give her a kiss and leave her a note I’d written telling her how much I love her and how she will always be my Baby Girl (yeah, I know, it made her cry too). We gather all of our stuff and hop in the car and ride off into the sunrise to become parents. We arrive at the hospital promptly at 6:30am (thanks to Honey – we all know I’m genetically 15 minutes late for everything) and get checked in. I am ushered to a very nice delivery room, told to put on the attractive hospital gown , pee in a cup and make myself comfortable – oh JOY! I do as I’m told and heft my now very lard tail into the not so comfortable bed on which I would later deliver my child. I answer 1000 questions about my medical history, pregnancy history and Civil War History (who knew). It seemed that everyone was very concerned about how much I weighed (a question they usually asked with Honey sitting right next to me). I answered all the questions and they didn’t kick me out so I assume I passed the test. So far, so good.

My nurse, Ms. Wonderful, arrives and hooks me up to a bunch of monitors and an IV. As she is getting everything settled I inform her that I have to pee so she unhooks everything from the monitoring station and drapes it around my neck and I wheel my IV to the bathroom with me………VERY attractive. I waddle back to the awful bed and hoist myself back in, hand Ms. Wonderful my cords and she plugs me back up. Honey is now in the room and is overjoyed to find that the TV is stuck on ESPN (yea!....NOT). My contracts are coming fairly regularly but not very intense and I’m thinking, “Piece of cake”. I am an idiot. After about an hour, my mother arrives. She and Honey sit on the even more comfortable couch and discuss sports. I work the crossword puzzle. My contractions begin to increase in intensity but they are still not so bad.

At around 11am my contractions became extremely intense and were coming one on top of the other. Now, I’d bragged to everyone that I was going to do this with no drugs so imagine my surprise when I said, “Bring me Stadol!” I told my nurse that I really was trying to avoid an epidural but that I would gladly welcome a nice shot of narcotics just to take the edge off. Ms. Wonderful left the room to fetch my “happy shot”. Obviously its standard practice to prepare to give an epidural even if the patient says they don’t want it because………..well, they KNOW we’re lying. So, in comes Ms. Student and her job is to ask me the same 1000 questions about my medical history, pregnancy and Civil War History as everyone else that has walked into the room. Now, at this time I am in CONSTANT pain. I feel like my gut is in a vice and my mother and Honey are still talking about sports. One really big contraction hit and I looked at them and said, “SHHHHH”. I said this because I wanted them to STOP TALKING. My mother interpreted this to mean I wanted them to TALK TO ME! She was commenting on the fact that I must be having a really big contraction when I interrupted her and said, “SHUT THE F*#% UP” and do you know what she did………tried to correct me. She started to inform me that I didn’t need to cuss to which I told her that if she really thought now was the time to correct me she should leave the room (I know, I’m an awful daughter). She picked up her purse and headed to the waiting room (because she KNOWS I’m an awful daughter). Once she left, Honey started to tell me how rude I was to which I shot him a look that said, “Do you want to join her?” and he shut up.

Meanwhile, Ms. Student is waiting on my contractions to pass (like they ever really stopped) to ask me about the barometric pressure and which tastes better – Peter Pan or Jiff. I’d finally lost my patience with her and asked, in a not so polite tone, if all of this was not written down on some other piece of paper that she could COPY OFF OF!!!! I also took this moment to inform her that I’d changed my mind and I wanted the epidural. About two minutes later, Ms. Wonderful entered the room and I also informed her that I’d decided to throw my pride out the window and get pumped full of body numbing fluids. She informs me that they had to get at least half a bag of fluid in me before they could give me the epidural so I told her to, “Hook it up and get to squeezing”.

Within 15 minutes we’d managed to get enough fluid in me to allow for them to administer the epidural. Ms. Student and Mr. Boss enter the room to administer the wonder drugs. Now, I assumed that Mr. Boss, the one with years of experience, would be the one that inserted a 36 inch needle in my back and ran it up my spinal cord…….Oh NOOOOOO. Ms. Student would be the one to possibly paralyze me and I must say, I was MOST excited. She made sure that she announced everything that she was doing so that I could write it in my “Pain Is A B!&@* Journal”. The first thing she did was scrub my back so that no germs could enter my body with the needle. This took about 15 minutes because she is obviously trained to treat everyone as if they were rolling in toxic waste just minutes before entering the hospital. It took her, what seemed like 45 minutes, to finally get the catheter in my back. By this time I have been pushing for 10 minutes and informed Ms. Wonderful to tell Ms. Student to forget it because I was about to deliver. We finally get Ms. Student to move her fanny out of the way and Ms. Wonderful started paging anyone and everyone to come assist in my delivery. At this point, they can’t turn on the epidural so I just wasted the last 45 minutes of my life for nothing!

All of a sudden my room starts filling up with nurses……..but no Dr. Gyno. Honey takes his place at my bedside, holding my hand and coaching me on and still, no Dr. Gyno. I am pushing at this point and I hear a nurse say, “The heart rate is dropping”. Honey is between my bed and the monitoring station that seems to be the command center of my delivery room. I push again and I hear someone say, “The cord is around the neck”. I look at Honey for reassurance and realize the he really isn’t looking at me. It seems that he has been wedged up against my bed with his legs locked in order to stay out of the way of the command center. In an instant, my wonderful husband went from coach to Red Wood and fell over backwards!! That’s right, he PASSED OUT!! The echo from his head hitting the floor stopped everyone in their tracks and all of a sudden HE had 20 medical professionals surrounding him and I was left with Ms. Wonderful to deliver the baby.

Bean was born on the bed with no doctor, no stirrups, no nothing! Someone, I have no idea who, cut the cord and whisked the Bean to the warmer. Meanwhile, I’m laying there with my “business” up in stirrups for the world to see and still no sign of Dr. Gyno. Honey, however, has about 25 people surrounding him to make sure that his brains weren’t scrambled. He is lying on the floor, babbling about how he played football and his sister used to hit him harder than that floor and I’m lying in the bed waiting on someone qualified to “finish the delivery”. At some point I asked one of Honey’s medical team to at LEAST cover me up so that I wasn’t exposed to the world with the rest of my “delivery” flapping in the wind. She obliged with a washcloth that probably covered at least ¼ of what I was trying to conceal!

After about 15 minutes, the doctor on call, Dr. Hysterical, came in. He went to the bathroom to put on his booties because Honey’s medical team had taken up most of the space in the room. He emerged from the bathroom and informed me that he had “sat in pee” (although that is NOT the word he used). Obviously the lovely “container” they put in the toilet to make sure that I was really going to the bathroom during labor (and not just applying lipstick) had not been emptied since my last….ummm….trip. I apologized for his wet rear end but asked if there was anything he could do about “finishing” my delivery. He positioned himself at the end of my bed and informed me that he was going to “put in a stitch just to prove he was there”. Now, I didn’t know whether to be offended or not but at that point I really didn’t care.

About 10 minutes later my mother appears in the room. As soon as she walks in Dr. Hysterical informs her that he has, “sat in pee”. She asks, “Did you deliver the baby?” He says, “Well Hell no.” And she says, “Well then what good are you?” To which he replies, “Not a D@%* bit, but I put in a stitch so I can get paid”. I really wish I’d known about this guy at the beginning of my pregnancy because I’m SURE my office visits would’ve been a lot more fun.

So there you are folks – the delivery story. I know it’s not conventional, there was no soft music, no soothing words from my husband, no low lights and angels singing. Nope, it was a three ring circus, but hey, Bean might as well come into the world knowing that she is destined to live in total chaos. Welcome to the world my precious little girl…..you’re in for a wild ride.

Here she is. For the purpose of this forum she will be known as "Bean" 

She's Here....

Well, the beaner has arrived! She was born on September 20th at 12:50pm and weighed 6 lbs. 12 oz. and was 18 3/4 inches long. I am currently writing my delivery story and will post it in the next day or two. Just wait - only I could have such an experience! If you think my life was crazy before......oh my! I've posted a picture of her for you all to see and there will be many more to come. Check back soon for the entire saga of her birth.

He's A Girl!!!

So we went for our 18 week ultrasound on Tuesday. Honey kept telling everyone that was when we were going to see the baby’s “boy parts”. However, because God has a wonderful sense of humor……….he is a girl.

That’s right – our new little bundle of joy is going to be a baby girl. Honey and I are both very excited (at least he says he’s excited…..I’m not really buying it yet). I was actually a little upset that we weren’t having a boy because with the two girls we could really use a change of drama. I was really looking forward to getting to write about 1st football practices and snake handling instead of the same old female drama we encounter on a daily basis. Oh well, I guess I’m just not supposed to be a boy mama. However, Honey is now on the lookout for a pink football because he says the he’s teaching SOMEBODY to play football. So, it looks like this new baby girl is going to be molded into a snake-handling tomboy even if it kills her daddy.

So folk, in September I will be giving birth to another beautiful little girl. At that point Baby Girl will be 9 and Bug will be 3. Hmmmm………I guess that means I’ve got another 18 years of being stupid because just about the time that Baby Girl realizes I’m not an idiot, Bug will be 13 and I will be a drooling moron. By the time Bug is old enough to realize the error of her ways, the new baby will be 15 and I will STILL be stupid. Good Heavens – I’m going to be 52 years old before anyone in my house thinks I am capable of dressing myself and I’m NEVER going to get to go to the bathroom alone again until they put me in a home! What have I done?!?!?!

Who Taught Honey How To Read???

I have come to the conclusion that I have lost my ever-lovin’ mind! What was I thinking when I agreed to have another child?!?!? I would LOVE to be able to blame it on booze but the truth is we actually sat down and had a long discussion about wanting to add another child to our family. I remember it………I just don’t know WHY I agreed to it.

First, I must preface with the fact that I am very glad that Honey and I are going to have this child. Some people tend to over react and call me telling me how awful I am for calling my kids crack heads and reminding me what a gift they truly are. Yeah, yeah, yeah, YOU take them for about a week and then I’ll add the names YOU call them to this blog. I know that children are a gift from God and I know that they are beautiful blessings and all that. I also know that this blog is here to be HUMOROUS so lighten up.

Now, back to my rant. I have now been pregnant for 13 weeks. My Honey is reading his book like it contains clues to the end of the world. He is driving me NUTS with this book. Almost every sentence he utters these days starts with, “My books says…..”. For example, the other day I got home from work around 6p. I’d had a really long and hard day and just wanted to put on my comfy pants and lay on the couch for a bit. Just as I am about to nod off Honey brings me this cup with some sort of hot liquid in it. I asked, “What is this?”. “Chamomile tea” he replies. “Why?” I asked. “My book says it will help you relax and calm down”. Now, I have to give him points for trying to help me but I’ve never drank chamomile tea and quite frankly, hot tea is not on my list of things I would like to consume. I smiled and said, “Thank you baby but I really don’t think I want it”. “You need to drink it” he says, “it will help you relax”. Now, please remember that I was about to FALL ASLEEP when he brought me this steaming cup of God knows what that I DID NOT even ask for. I smiled again and gently said, “I’m not tense, I just want to lay here for a few minutes and then I will be just fine”. Honey smiled back at me and said, “My book says that you need to get plenty of rest and that this tea will help you to calm down after a hard day. You should really drink it. I put honey and sugar in it and I really think you will like it”. Now, if I was to drink ICED tea, I would drink it UNSWEET so why on Earth would he think that putting SUGAR AND HONEY in this tea would be at all appealing to me is completely beyond me. On top of that, he does not seem to be getting my hints that all I really want to do is lay on the couch UNDISTURBED. I looked up at him sweetly and said, “I really don’t think I want the tea but thank you anyway” to which he replied, “my books says….” At which point I cut him off and said in my sweetest tone, “Baby, I really don’t give a flying flip what your book says now just let me LAY HERE FOR A FEW MINUTES!!!!” With that he went back into the kitchen and poured out the bubbling brew he had so lovingly prepared for his beast of a wife all the while mumbling something about how I’d bought the stupid book and if I wasn’t careful I’d be eating it for dinner.

Now, don’t forget, I LOVE my husband but I just could not let this slide. I yelled from the couch, “Oh YEAH! Well, it’s YOUR fault I had to buy YOU the stupid book in the first place!” Didn’t make a lot of sense but I felt better because I got the last word. I laid my head back down and FINALLY began to nod off. About an hour later I awoke to a soft kiss on my cheek and my wonderful husband standing over me holding my dinner plate. He had made my favorite meal; meatloaf, mashed potatoes and English peas and had brought it to me on a tray in the den so I could watch American Idol while I ate. I thanked him and told him I was sorry that I had been just a grouch. I went on to tell him that I was very lucky to have such a wonderful husband and that I should tell him more often how much I appreciate him. At that point I started to bawl because I realized, in all of my hormonal wisdom, that I was the luckiest (sniff) woman (sniff, sniff) on the whole planet. The more I cried the more he smiled (which kind of irritated me). Through my snot and tears I asked him why he was smiling at me when I had been such a troll. Do you know what he said? “Well, my books says………..”

I swear, I’m going to set that dang book on fire – probably after I shove it up his tail!!!

This is the first picture of our little "beaner". Honey and I both agree that he looks like a lima bean and one of Honey's aunts started calling him "beaner" and I think that's kind of cute so that may be his nickname being that we can't agree on a real name for the poor child.
 

Mini Muffin Madness

Good Lord!!! I haven’t posted since November?!?! What on Earth is wrong with me? Nothing, I’m lazy……….Hi, have you met me?

Ok, so what all has been going on in my world? Hmmm? Well, Bug got a battery operated, pink and white “Harley” for Christmas from Papa and BB and now she terrorizes the neighborhood with it’s obnoxious sound effects. Baby Girl is trying her best to make me absolutely crazy. She would forget her head if it wasn’t up her butt. I think we are going to have her tested for ADD – either she needs meds or I do. Prissy has been chosen for Pre-Team at gymnastics………….not sure what that means but I think it’s good. We went to Illinois at Christmas time and it was wonderful. Very quiet and peaceful……….I could live there. What else? Oh yeah, we are now getting bug two weeks a month and we are thrilled. She has given up her Nuk (pacifier) – we told her that Salty Bear (the dog) ate it. She now hates the dog but no longer asks for the Nuk…..poor Salty Bear. Hmmmmm………..what else? It seem’s like I am forgetting something……..hmmmm? Oh yeah – I’M PREGNANT!!!!!!!

That’s right folks; Honey and I are working on CH #4. We are hoping and praying (and begging and bargaining) that this one is a boy. Honey says that if we have another girl he is liable to walk into oncoming traffic. Actually, we are just praying for a healthy baby but if God should happen to be surfing the net and stumbles across my little blog I hope he takes pity on me and makes this one MALE!

So far everything is going fine. It’s obvious that I will now become a better poster as I now have a whole new resource for material. So, be prepared to read about how my pregnancy progresses. And please don’t think I will be posting sappy entries about how Honey and I fall asleep every night with our hands on my belly gushing about how much we love this baby and how happy we are………….GAG! Nope, you will probably read more intimate details about my life than you EVER wanted to know. I just hope that none of Honey’s friends read this blog………they might make fun of him.

Let’s see – to date – no morning sickness. Every once and a while I get a little pang of “yuck” but nothing worth whining about. I’m already getting too big for my pants and I haven’t even been to my first appointment yet. I have my first OB visit on 2/14/06 and will probably have already gained about 20 pounds!! I actually haven’t really gained any weight, it’s just that my body is tired and now that it knows there’s no point in “sucking in” anymore………I’ve lost the ability to do so.

I bought Honey a book called “Pregnancy Sucks (for Him) – When your little miracle makes you both miserable”. I’ve read some of it and it is HYSTERICAL. The good thing is, I can tell he is reading it too and following it’s instructions. He is going to be a wonderful husband through out this pregnancy……….at least so far he’s doing pretty good.

I’m sure a lot of you hate me because I have no morning sickness but trust me – I have TONS of other stuff that is going wrong and falling apart so shut up and leave me alone. It would seem that I am a tiny bit hormonal……..ok, ok – I’m just plain irritable and bitchy. I have ZERO patience for anyone or anything. This is making life very hard on CH #1 as she has chosen this time to completely lose her mind and stop doing her schoolwork altogether. No reason for it she says, just “I don’t know” and “I forgot”. It would seem that my child “forgot” to answer the questions on her Social Studies test prior to turning it in which resulted in a big, fat zero. Go figure.

Anyway, back to bitchy. My wonderful husband has been trying to help our oldest child learn to cope (avoid) my hormonal imbalance. He has tried to explain to her that “Mama is just a little sensitive and her hormones are out of whack so just be really good and don’t speak to her or breathe her air”. Simple enough right? WRONG!

About a week ago I wanted a salad for dinner. I wanted a salad from Applebee’s because they have peas on their salad bar. Honey tried to tell me that I had all of the salad stuff I could ever want in our fridge (he was so proud that he’s stocked up on the one thing I was craving so far). I “explained” to him that I wanted Applebee’s because they had PEAS!!! Now, please note, I have NEVER, not once, even thought of putting peas on my salad but for some reason I now HAVE to have them so off to Applebee’s we went.

We had a nice dinner and Baby Girl and Honey discussed how they were going to have to deal with “Mama and her hormones” EVERY day for NINE WHOLE MONTHS. Oh, the horror!! I mean, I have to deal with them and their dirty laundry every day for at least the next EIGHTEEN YEARS!!!!!! I think I’m the one getting ripped off so what the heck do they have to whine about (see, a little irritable).

Anyway, we get in the car to head home and I was driving. Honey and Baby Girl get into one of there normal back and forth “You pooted” “Nu Uh, You pooted” “No I didn’t, YOU did” “No Daddy, YOU DID IT” and as delightful as this is to listen to EVERY time we get in the car, I really wasn’t feeling the joy on this particular evening. Baby Girl threatens to throw her empty Coke can at Honey and he tells her she’d better not. He then picks up a bag of mini muffins from my console and chunks them in the backseat at Baby Girl! I snapped.

I started yelling about how my vehicle was NOT and amusement park and there was going to be no flying objects in MY car while I was driving. Furthermore, I would pull MY car over, jerk them BOTH out, whip their butts and leave them to walk home if anything else was hurled in my vehicle. I mean I was really letting them have it…….na na nana nanana na na!

Honey looks in the back seat at Baby Girl and says, “Baby Girl, THOSE are hormones”. Without skipping a beat Baby Girl holds up the bag and says, “No Daddy, these are mini muffins – they’re blueberry”. Needless to say I did pull my car over because I was laughing so there were tears streaming down my face and I couldn’t see. Not to mention that I had to pee so bad I was tempted to squat behind one of those 18 wheelers that park behind the mall.

We made it home safe and dry. Baby Girl had experienced her first major pregnancy “fit” and we’d all had a bonding moment. We also coined another new phrase. Ever since that night, any time I seem a little bit irritated, Honey always asks if he should leave the room before I start throwing muffins. My standard answer is YES!!!!

Gotta Love Her........Attitude

Bug is back and she is getting SO big. She is going through a growth spurt and getting too big for her britches………in more ways than one.

Let me start by saying that Bug has always been the sweetest little girl. She loves to give hugs and kisses and she’s quick to say “Lub you” to her family and is a dream to put to sleep at night. As she gets bigger her vocabulary gets bigger. As she gets bigger her personality develops…..as does her attitude. Yesterday morning I had my first experience with the new Bug……..and I think I like her a lot!

Ok – so I’m going through my morning ritual of trying to get Baby Girl out of bed, fed, dressed (including shoes) and to the bus stop with clean teeth and combed hair………it’s tough! Anyway, we were to the part of our morning where I remind her to brush her teeth and hair and she was telling me that she’d “fixin to” for the 10th time. She finally found her way to the bathroom and I was folding clothes in the laundry “closet”. Bug was in her room playing in her toy box after having already been up for an hour, had breakfast and brushed her teeth (I’m determined to train her better than I did Baby Girl). From Baby Girl’s bathroom I hear, “MAMA! COME GET HER!” I can also hear Bug saying, “I brush teeth, I brush teeth, I BRUSH TEETH”. I can envision the scene, Bug is standing on the toilet leaning over into the sink trying to grab the toothbrush and toothpaste from Baby Girl and Baby Girl is trying to keep them away from her all the while smearing toothpaste all over my counter. I call out, “Bug, leave sister alone she is trying to get ready for the school bus”. Baby Girl got quiet so I assumed Bug went back to her room so I went back to folding clothes.

About 30 seconds later I look down to see Bug standing at the doorway with her hand held up as if she were stopping traffic with a very serious look on her face. I start to say, “Hi Bug” as that is our normal greeting but am cut short with a, “Hush Up!” I was shocked. #1 because she obviously had come all the way to where I was to express her displeasure in my having told her to get out of the bathroom and #2 because I felt I had just been Prissed by a two year old. I put on my best Mama face and said, “Excuse me? What did you just say?”

Now, this next part is what makes me know that I am going to LOVE this new Bug. She paused and studied my face for a few seconds and then said, “I go to Nana’s house”. That’s right folks – she is already smart enough to know that my reaction to her first attempt at Prissin was not one of joy and decided it better to LIE to my face than possibly suffer the consequences.

About that time Baby Girl came into the den and I relayed the story to her. She informed me that Bug had been trying to Priss her all day and she TOLD her that she isn’t allowed to Priss and older person. I guess Bug just had to test that theory but judging by her complete 360 when questioned I am assuming she was able to grasp the concept.

Yep – I think she is going to grow up to be a fine CH #3.

Don't Be Prissin Me

Ok – I don’t know if I’ve explained about Prissin’ yet and I don’t care to follow my own instructions and read through the archives. So, I am going to explain it now and if I’m repeating myself fell free to skip down the page a little.

About a month or so ago Baby Girl came in from playing with Prissy, slammed the door, grabbed the remote and plopped down in the chair. This is very odd for a weekend day because usually she and Prissy have to be tracked down when it gets dark. I asked her why she wasn’t outside with Prissy to which she informed me, “I am taking a break from her for a while”. Ok – that should’ve been enough for me as I am always telling her how when they start getting on each others nerves they should just take a break and separate for a while……..but noooooo – I had to push it. I asked, “What happened?” because I hadn’t gotten my daily dose of drama that I have become dependent on to live. She found her spot on the ceiling behind me to stare at, put the remote down and her hands on her hips and said, “Because she was Prissin’ me and I don’t have to take it.” All of a sudden I realized that I have lost touch with this new generation as I had no idea what “Prissin’” was. So, because I want to be “in touch” with my child I asked, “What does that mean?”

At this point, she takes a deep breath, rolls her eyes and tells me, “I told her that she has been Prissin’ me all day and that I am 8 and she is 6 and that a younger person can’t Priss and older person but she kept on doing it so I told her that if she didn’t stop it I was going to Priss her back and she wasn’t going to like it AT ALL but she kept on doing it so I just told her that I needed a break because I didn’t have to take her Prissin me and I was going home for a while until she could learn the rules of stuff”.

You notice that last EXTREMELY long sentence with NO punctuation? Yeah, she didn’t take a breath during that entire rant. Sad thing is, I’ve now lost 15 minutes of my life that I will never get back and I STILL don’t know what Prissin is. So, I called Nana to see if she has heard of this odd ritual. Nana says that she has no clue what Prissin is but being that she is older than me, she better not catch me Prissin her. I asked Honey, since he’s younger than me, and he said that he’d never heard of it but he’d better not catch me Prissin him just because I’m allowed to. So, there I was, I didn’t know what Prissin was but I had this feeling that I really wanted to try it on someone.

About that time, Prissy rang the doorbell and Baby Girl answered it. I couldn’t hear what they were saying so I walked to the door, opened it wider and asked Prissy if she was finished Prissin Baby Girl. Prissy informed me that she “didn’t even Priss her at all” in kind of a snotty little voice and Baby Girl almost comes unglued. She yelled, “YES YOU DID! You were standing on the driveway and I asked you if you wanted to play school and you said no. I asked you if you wanted to play with our dolls and you said no. I asked you if you wanted to draw on the sidewalk and you said no and then you just turned around and walked into the garage! QUIT LYING Prissy!” Prissy then turned and walked away.

I am now standing there trying to compute all of this because what I have gathered from this exchange is that Prissin is turning around and walking away. I might go as far as to say it is disagreeing with someone and THEN turning and walking away but I really think it’s just the walking away part. Oh my, this is very disturbing. I mean, my 8 year old has informed me of the rules that a younger person is not allowed to Priss an older person so I can no longer plead ignorant. I don’t know if I am going to be able to function under these new guidelines? I mean, I would always have to be the last one to leave a room or I would have to always walk backwards. Which brings up another issue, what if I am walking backwards away from the group I am talking to but in the process accidentally walk away from an elderly person – have I Prissed them unknowingly? Oh no – I don’t think I’m going to be able to do this. Will I have to start carding people before I can proceed through a crowd……..oh, no, oh, no………I was beginning to panic. I grabbed Baby Girl by the shoulders and said, “What EXACTLY is Prissin?” Baby Girl rolled her eyes and says, “I don’t know, it’s just something we say when we don’t like what the other one is doing”. Oh thank God!!!

We have now adopted this word into our daily lives. For example – if Honey comes in the room and says, “Where are my glasses” and I say, “I don’t know I don’t wear them” he would be well within his rights to assume he has been Prissed. So, the next time that you are in a situation where a younger person is giving you grief about something just put on your best serious face and say, “Looky here – you’d best not be Prissin me” and turn and walk away. By the time they figure out what the heck you are talking about, they will have forgotten what they were griping about and leave you alone. Trust me, it works. I’ve tried it on several occasions and have YET to be asked what I meant. Good luck and Happy Prissin.

Oh, What Goes On In Their Little Crack Heads?

Let’s see……..it’s been a minute since I rambled about the Crack heads. Where, oh where should I begin?

A few weeks ago Nana walked into her kitchen and found a bowl of melting ice on her counter. When she entered her living room she discovered another bowl of melting ice turned UPSIDE DOWN on her carpet. As she pondered what they could possibly be doing with bowls of ice she noticed her couch. All of the throw pillows were wearing jackets and coats. The girls were nowhere to be found. When she told me about it I asked what they said when she questioned them. “I didn’t” she said, “I really don’t think I want to know.”

A few days after that, Honey calls me outside to, “just come look”. I walk out on the front porch and see that the girls have been playing in the “dirt” that accumulates at the end of our street when it rains. They have stolen two of Nana’s big plastic bowls and have cups and silverware strewn all over the neighbors yard (the little section by the mailbox). Just as I am about to ask what they are doing I notice something white laying in the middle of the dirt/mud and Baby Girl is sitting on it. I asked Honey, “what is she sitting on?” and he says, “That’s why I called you out here. Ask her.” At that precise moment, Prissy scoots by us carrying a huge bowl of mud with a few pieces of Styrofoam sticking out the top. She never looked up and never spoke, just scooted past us to her house. I call out to Baby Girl, “WHAT are you doing?” “Playing in the dirt”, she says in her most innocent voice. I ask, “WHAT are you sitting on?” After a brief pause she replies, “My coat”. HUH???? “Would that be your BRAND NEW, SOLID WHITE coat that you have NEVER EVEN WORN???” I ask. “Um, yes ma’am” she replies softly. By now she has gathered up her stuff, including her coat and made her way back to our yard, all the while desperately looking for Prissy to back her up to no avail. I try to stay calm and ask, “WHY would you take your coat out there and put it in the mud to sit on? She got this “I know you’re mad but I have a legitimate reason” look on her face and said, “Because we didn’t want to get our butts dirty”. OH! Now I get it, it makes perfect sense……..to a CRACKHEAD!

Last Friday afternoon my neighbor from across the street (the same one that lives in front of the dirt) knocks on my door and informs me that “the little girls that play here” had filled her mailbox with dirt………..ON TOP OF HER MAIL!! I was speechless. I apologized to her and told her that her mailbox would be clean momentarily. I sent Honey around the corner to fetch the girls from Spike’s house. I’m fairly certain that their rear ends were “warmed up” on the way home as they were both sniffing and walking kind of funny. I handed them wet and dry paper towels and told them to get busy cleaning up the mess. The whole time I’m standing over them telling them how messing with someone’s mailbox (and mail) is a crime and they are lucky the lady didn’t call the cops and have them arrested. I told them that we were not raising children that would destroy other people’s property and that they were both grounded for a week. I went on to tell them that they were NEVER to play in the neighbor’s yard again and if I caught either of them playing in that dirt again they were going to regret it. I was just ranting and raving about how I couldn’t believe that they would do something like that to someone else’s stuff. I mean it’s one thing for them to do crazy stuff to our houses (ice in the floor, dirt on Daddy’s truck, hand prints on the ceiling, etc) but for them to pull a stunt like this was just not going to be tolerated, blah, blah, on and on. Neither of them ever took their eyes off the inside of that mailbox so I’m pretty sure they were just tuning me out. I also made them march their little tails up to the door and apologize to our neighbor. Once it was all over, I sent #2 home (Nana was standing on her porch backing me up the whole time) and #1 on the house. I fixed Baby Girl some dinner and told her to get ready for bed (it was about 6pm). As I put her to bed I told her, “Baby Girl, I love you with all my heart and I don’t like fussing at you and having to punish you but I just can’t let you think it’s ok to do things like that”. She started to cry and told me, “Mama, I don’t know why I did it. Prissy said we should and I told her no but then I just got caught up in the moment and the next thing I knew, Daddy was coming to get us.” Caught up in the moment?? What eight year old says “caught up in the moment”? Anyway, I gave her a kiss and put her to bed and went to call Nana. I asked her how the mood was in her house and she told me that Prissy had decided to pack a bag and run away because “Syd and Mr. Honey are mean”. Not because we made them clean up the dirt, not because Honey spanked them, not even because we yelled at them. No, we are mean because it was embarrassing to have to apologize to the neighbor. Whatever! I hope they were embarrassed. Maybe they will think twice before committing their next felony.

Free To A Good Home!!!

I know there are some dog lovers out there that would LOVE to have a Snugget!! That’s right, Snow (the big white fluffy dog) managed to knock up Nugget (the medium black short-haired dog) and now we have NINE puppies. They are 4 ½ weeks old and are VERY cute but 9 of them whining at 3am, because Nugget no longer finds letting them chew on her ta-tas quite so comfortable, is really starting to work my nerves. I’ve explained on several occasions that my house is rather small – well my back yard is even smaller. We already have Snow, Salty and Nugget – and Honey actually hinted to keeping TWO of the snuggets – AIN”T GONNA HAPPEN!!!

So, if any of you are looking for a really cute puppy – shoot me an email or post a comment. They will be ready to go on 11/18 and I will gladly deliver. I will take pictures and post them tomorrow.

Tech Support - Would You Like Fries With That?

Ok – I haven’t ranted about work in a while but today I am feeling the need. I will go ahead and extend my apologies to any individual that might have been on the call I am about to reference and is offended by this post. However, chances are if you were on that call – you are too stupid to read so I probably don’t have anything to worry about.

So, my company was bought a while back by a much larger company and since that time they have been “absorbing” us into their world. We are supposed to follow their processes and procedures (most of which are so screwed up even they don’t know how they work). Anyway – a while back we moved a lot of our systems to their locations (because we are hicks and couldn’t possibly know how to work stuff) however, these systems are all still supported by our location (because they don’t want hicks teaching them squat). A while back “they” gave us the directive that all of our helpdesks would go to “one number”, meaning that all of our former company users would call one phone number (in a whole other state than any of our locations) to open a trouble ticket that we would then work. In other words – if you sit outside my office – you have to call California and open a ticket so that I can walk out my door and hand you a new mouse. Not to mention the fact that they NEVER give us good or enough information to enable us to solve the problem without contacting the user directly. Frankly – they make my job harder and more time consuming but hey – I’m a hick – what do I know.

Now, the group that now takes our calls is not the ONLY helpdesk within this new large corporation that I joyfully work for. No – I know of 4 different “one number to dial” helpdesks within this organization and none of them have a clue that the others exist – yet my group has to deal with all of them because we support applications enterprise wide. All of these different helpdesks have “critical reporting” that has to be done anytime there is an issue. For example – if I have a server go down in Memphis and it impacts 2 people in Maine – I have to explain why to 14 different people from 5 different states. If I have 3 people in Oregon who can’t login because they don’t know their password – I have to fill out a “root cause” report and submit it to 9 people in 3 different states. If a bird flies into my window and I spill coffee on my keyboard which keeps me from working for the 32 seconds it takes to swap it out thus causing 1 telemarketer to not be able to bore me to death with a sales call – I have to report the outage to 36 people on 2 different planets. So, as you can see – dealing with all of these separate helpdesks has not decreased my workload at all and I am not thrilled about it.

Yesterday I received the following call and I swear to you that I almost “snapped and went off”……….

Me – “This is Syd”

HD – “Hi, Syd, This is Dilbert with the Retards Answering Phones center. I have Larry, Moe, Curly from Georgia and Lucy, Ethel, Ricky and Fred from Boston and Lenny and Squiggy from Detroit on the phone with me and we are trying to resolve an issue with AIR”

Me – “Ok – what seems to be the issue?”

Dilbert – “Well, it seems that when users in London aren’t able to access AIR on the Terminal Server”

Me – “What error are they receiving?”

Larry – “I’m not sure of the error. Can you check the server?”

Me – “I’m logged into it now and AIR launches just fine. What server are they pointing to?”

Squiggy – “I’m not sure. Probably the same one they’ve always used”

Me – “Well these users used to access AIR from a Memphis Terminal Server but that server was decommissioned last Friday. Users should now be getting AIR from the Ohio Terminal Server. Can we find out what server they are pointing to?”

Moe – “Why weren’t we notified of the change?”

Me – “Betty Boop was the project manager on that and she sent out communication to all departments each week for over a month asking for users to test and informing them of when they cutover was going to occur.”

Lucy – “So let me understand this. The problem is the users aren’t pointing to the correct server to get AIR?”

Me – “I don’t know. I need someone to verify which server they are pointing to and what error they are receiving. Who is on with us from London?”

Dilbert – “Umm, I don’t think anyone. Do you need someone from London?”

Me – “Well, it would be helpful if I had a user that was actually experiencing the issue that I could talk to”

Ricky – “Hey Lucy, can you see if you can get either Hughey, Dewey or Louie on the phone from London?”

Dilbert – “I’ll go ahead and call Bert and Ernie from LAN so they can start a sniffer.”

Me – “Let’s find out what the actual issue IS before we drag anyone else on this call”

Dilbert – “Oh, I agree. Curly – can you please page Bert for me while I try to get Ernie on IM.”

Curly – “Dialing now.”

Me – “Um, ok then. Has Lucy come back with a London user yet?”

**silence**

Me – “Hello? Lucy, are you there?”

Lucy – “I’m here. I’m sorry, what was the question?”

Dilbert – “Did you get in touch of Hughey, Dewey or Louie?”

Lucy – “Umm – no. I’ll see if I can track down Donald – he’s their Manager”

Me – “I really need to speak with someone that is actually at a computer that can tell me what is happening on the screen”

Bert – “Hi – this is Bert from LAN. What do you need me to do?”

Dilbert - “Hey Bert, this is Dilbert. I wanted to see if you could put a sniffer on the network to see if we are having any problems getting to AIR from London”

Bert – “Sure, what is the IP of the user in London and what is the IP of the server in Ohio?”

Me – “We don’t seem to be able to find a user that is having this issue. As a matter of fact, at this moment the issue is merely a rumor. I believe the problem is that the users aren’t pointing to the correct server but we are waiting for someone to verify that”

Bert – “I see. Well what is the IP of the server?”

Me – “123.456.7.89”

Lucy – “I’ve got Donald coming on with us now”

Donald – “Hi, this is Donald”

Me – “Hi Donald. We’ve got about 20 people on the phone trying to figure out what is going on with your group”

Donald – “Well, the users are reporting that they can’t get into WATER”

Me – “I’m sorry – did you say WATER because we were told that they couldn’t get AIR”

Donald – “Umm – I thought they said WATER. Hang on; I’ll see if I can find Hughey, Dewey or Louie. Maybe they will know”

Me – “That would be great (sarcasm)”

Lucy – “Let me understand, we have two applications, AIR and WATER, which are down because we didn’t communicate the move of the Terminal Server?”

Me – “No – that is not at all the case. At this point, it seems that only Hughey, Dewey and Louie know what the actual problem is and it would seem they have flown the coop.”

Donald – “Hey – I’ve got Daisy here and she is in front of her computer.”

Bert – “What is your IP address?”

Me – “Hang on; let’s find out what the actual problem is BEFORE we start bombarding her with questions. Daisy, what seems to be the problem?”

Daisy – “Well, when I try to get on, it takes a long time for the login screen to come up”

Me – “When you try to login to AIR?”

Daisy – “I’m not logging into AIR”

Me – “Are you able to login to the Terminal Server?”

Daisy – “Yes”

Bert – “What is the server’s IP?”

Me – “Hang on Bert. Daisy, once you login to the server, what icon are you clicking on?”

Daisy – “AIR”

Me – “Ok? So it’s AIR’s login screen that is taking a long time. How long?”

Daisy – “It’s been taking almost one minute all day”

Bert – “What is the IP for AIR?”

Me – “Daisy – can you try it for me now and count how long it takes. When I access it from here it takes 6 seconds to bring up the login screen”

Daisy – “Ok”

**silence**

Me – “So, how long did it take?”

**silence**

Me – “Daisy?”

Daisy – “Oh, did you want me to try it now?”

Me – “Yes, please”

Daisy – “Ok, that time it took 7 seconds”

Me – “When was the last time that it took almost a minute?”

Daisy – “I’m not sure. I never saw it. Hughey is the one that reported that but he’s gone for the day.”

Me – “Dilbert, I am going to consider this a non-issue”

Lucy – “So who will be sending out the communication in regards to this outage?”

Me – “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t consider this an outage.”

Ricky – “I’m going to document the outage as being caused by the server move not being communicated”

Me – “That’s not what was wrong here and the server move WAS communicated to the users over a week ago”

Bert – “I’m not able to run a trace on this IP”

Ethel – “Hey guys – why don’t we see if we can get some other users to test this from another location”

Me – “There is no issue – if there was my phone would be ringing off the wall and I haven’t gotten one call about this. There was no outage and it doesn’t even seem that there was and issue. I vote this call is over.”

Dilbert – “Ok, I’m going to assign this ticket to Desktop Services Memphis with the notes from this call. Syd, when can we expect resolution to this outage?”

Me – “By 3pm CST tomorrow.” CLICK!!!

This call lasted for 45 minutes. That is 45 minutes that I will NEVER get back. 45 minutes I could’ve spent closing 5 other tickets for people that had REAL issues. 45 minutes of mind numbing back and forth between too many people that don’t have a clue what they are doing. 45 minutes of me contemplating breaking the candle holder on my desk and eating the broken glass in order to ease the pain of the stupidity I’d been exposed to. 45 minutes of…………..gotta go, I’m getting a call from RAP………where is that candle holder?

A Place For MY Stuff

Well – it’s official – I finally FEEL married. You know how when you’re dating someone and all of their little “quirks” are cute and you laugh about them then suddenly when you get married they aren’t cute anymore? Yeah – I’m there.

Now, as always, I need to provide background information. Honey loses his keys, wallet and/or cell phone at LEAST 3 times a week. This normally occurs when we are trying to get somewhere at a specific time and are, of course, running late. When he can’t find whatever item he’s lost he gets mad. My usual response to this is to calmly walk to wherever I’d seen him go the day before (or hour before) and retrieve the item in question. I would then return it to him, smile and kiss him and he would say, “What would I do without you”. That was BEFORE we got married.

Now, please note – I ADORE my husband. For the most part we never fight. We have people constantly telling us that we make them sick because we are “too lovey dovey” (jealous much?). Anyway – the following is just a demonstration of how after you are married some of the cute stuff isn’t all that cute anymore.

Yesterday Honey went to the store to get my Diet Cokes (because I am spoiled). I am assuming that he could not locate his keys because he just took mine. He returned with 3 12 packs of my drug of choice and began to cook dinner (because I am spoiled rotten). The neighbors came down, Honey grilled burgers, hot dogs, baked beans, fries and I made potato salad (see, I contribute). Anyway, we sat out on the patio enjoying what might be our last pretty weekend before it turns cold listening to the radio and cutting up. Honey built a fire with the sun went down and the party went on until about 8p when it was time to start getting kids in the bed.

This morning, Honey got up and made coffee, got the girls up and fed while I took a shower (I know, I know – I’m keeping him). He left for work around 7:30a. I got the girls dressed and ready. Sent Baby Girl to the bus stop and took Bug down to Nana’s house. I came back, got my laptop, my Diet Coke and my purse. I went to retrieve my keys from my purse and they weren’t there………….HMMMMM? I NEVER lose my keys because if they aren’t in my ignition they are in my PURSE. It then dawns on me that Honey had been the last person to drive yesterday and that I’d seen HIS keys laying on top of the dryer (not sure why) while he was gone to get my cokes. I’d moved HIS keys to the top of HIS dresser (so HE could find them in the morning). I start looking – kitchen table, bar, dryer, bedroom, bathroom, patio, garage, Bug’s room, den – you name it, I looked there.

After 20 minutes of looking I finally had to call Honey. When he answered I asked, “Where are my keys?”. “Uhhhh – I don’t have them. I found mine this morning, they were on the dresser” (I’m sorry, who “found” them?) I said, “That’s good, now where are MY keys? You used them last” “Uhhhh – did you look on the table?” “YES! Unlike someone else I know, I actually LOOK for MY stuff before I call on others to be responsible for finding MY stuff”. “Uhhhh – did I not put them in your purse?” I almost dropped the phone, “Yes honey, you put them in my purse. I just called to test you and see if you could remember. NO they aren’t IN MY PURSE!!!! That’s the problem!” “Uhhhh – I’m sorry but I don’t have a clue what I did with them”. I asked, “What did you have on yesterday?” He proceeds to ramble off 3 different outfits (which explains why my laundry is out of control all the time) the last one being a pair of denim shorts. I start digging in the hamper and locate the shorts and low and behold – MY keys are in the pocket.

Now, at this point I am more than a little irritated. It’s one thing when he looses HIS stuff but when he starts losing MY stuff……….well, that just is not something I am going to be able to deal with (I know me). I explain to Honey that from now on there is a new rule – he is never allowed to use my keys for any reason – period. I rambled on and on about how I keep up with MY stuff. I always know where MY keys are because I put them in my purse. I don’t expect him to keep track of all of MY stuff and I shouldn’t have to keep track of HIS stuff. Blah, Blah, Blah, nag, nag, nag. He again apologized, I accepted, told him I loved him and hung up. Ugh!!!

I stomp back to the kitchen with my keys. I hang up the phone, grab my Diet Coke from the fridge, and go to stick it in my purse………..that isn’t on the table. CRAP!! At some point during my treasure hunt for my keys – I’d laid my purse down somewhere and I have no clue where!! I go BACK to the bedroom, garage, patio, Bug’s room and den – nothing. Just as I start to think I am losing my mind I remember the one other place I’d looked for the keys……..the dryer. There it was, sitting on the dryer with a Diet Coke already sitting in it. I grabbed my purse, put my keys in it, returned one of the beverages to the fridge and out the door I went. Then back in the door I came to get my laptop THEN out the door I went for work.

Now, Honey knows nothing of my misplacing my purse and I plan to NEVER tell him so I’d appreciate it if you would all keep it to yourselves. If you blab on me – I will send him to YOUR house and let him move YOUR stuff around for a while.

Sorry - Spammers Spoil Everything

You will notice that now when you submit comments you will have to use word verification prior to posting. I'm sorry - I hate having to type those stupid word jumbles but I've got spammers hitting my blog now and I could care less about reading a bunch of ads telling me "nice blog - you should check out this new home business - click here for more details". So, in order to keep the riff raff out.....you will have to contend with obscure jumbled words if you want to comment on this site - sorry.

Baby Girl, Bug and Prissy at Halloween.  

Oh, To Be Eight Years Old And In Love

I’ve always wondered if Baby Girl inherited more of my traits than those of her father. Yesterday she came home with a story that proves she really is more like me.

I must first let you know that Baby Girl is just starting to come out of her shell. I attribute this to having Honey in her life and to Cheerleading. She has always been a little on the weepy side and would start to cry if you looked at her wrong. She is very big on protecting her “private life” which includes everything from who her “boyfriend” is to her zipper being down in public. EVERYTHING pertaining to her is her “private life” and should NEVER be spoken about aloud. (Thank Heaven she can’t get online alone!)

Our neighbor to the back has a son (we’ll call him Spike). Spike is really cute and in Baby Girl’s class. For months we’ve been hearing from Prissy and Diva that Baby Girl “likes” Spike. Every time one of them would bring up Spike – Baby Girl would yell “You’re lying”, go to her room and slam the door. If I dared ask what was wrong – the tears would begin and she would tell me it was her “private life and they’re lying”. Ok – I know I’m old but I know that is code for “I wish they wouldn’t tell you that I like this boy”. I explained to Baby Girl that they were just teasing her and it didn’t matter if it were true or not. If she wanted to like Spike then just like him and tell Prissy and Diva to jump off a cliff.

When I got home from work on Halloween, Baby Girl pulled me in the bathroom to tell me something. She sat me down on the side of the tub, crossed her hands across her chest and proceeds to tell me, “I told Spike yesterday that I liked him and today at school, he told me he likes me back. So, he is my boyfriend and I don’t want you and Daddy to make jokes about it – OK”. I didn’t know if I should just go to my room or what. I was felling very much that the roles had been reversed and I was being corrected by my 8 year old. I did what any self respecting mother in this situation would do – I said, “Yes ma’am”, got up and left the room so I could laugh.

On Tuesday, Baby Girl came home with a new piece of jewelry. It would seem that Spike had presented his new Love with a pretty, pink, beaded necklace. Now, where Spike acquired these precious gems, I haven’t a clue but if his sister winds up knocking on my door I won’t be surprised. Anyway – she is now sporting a necklace that Spike gave her and will NOT take it off and all seems to be wonderful in her new world.

Thursday, I arrive home and am informed by Honey that I NEED to ask Baby Girl about her day. I call out to Baby Girl and tell her that I am going to the potty but want to hear about her day when I get finished. Of course – she follows me into the bathroom because as a 33 year old woman, I am incapable of peeing by myself. She proceeds to tell me about her day. It begins with a deep sigh and hands on her hips. She also has this way of not actually looking at you when she talks – she kind of talks to whatever is on the ceiling behind you. So there she was – really giving the ceiling a very serious look, hands on her hips. She took a really deep breath and said, “Mamma – some of the kids at school today were teasing me at lunch and they were getting on my last nerve. They finally ran right over it and I SNAPPED and went off!” Being that I am old, my first question was, “ran over what”. “MY NERVE”, she said. “Oh”. I said. “What were they saying?” (At this point I am trying hard to keep a straight face). “They were saying, “Spike and Baby Girl were supposed to get married yesterday” and I just WENT OFF”. Through a clenched jaw I asked, “What did you say to them?” “I yelled at them and told them to ZIP IT! (Finger pointed) I told them that I didn’t want to here it anymore and that they needed to LEAVE ME ALONE!”. “Then I started to cry and I had to go sit at the back table because I was yelling in the lunch room”. At this point I couldn’t even look at her – thank God there was no toilet paper and I had to send her to the other bathroom to get some. Before she returned I managed to compose myself. She came back and continued to tell me that she explained what happened to her teacher and “she made all those kids come to the front of the class and apologize – I bet that teaches them”. I told her that I agreed and to go outside and play. She left and I almost fell on the floor laughing. The DRAMA that an 8 year old has to deal with is just unbelievable!

While I was thinking about how silly all of this was my alter ego began to remember my own childhood and a similar situation where I didn’t talk to my very best friend for 3 days because she had cut the very tip of the corner of a piece of paper I was coloring on – I mean the nerve of that girl!

It made me realize how we (as girls) are genetically predispositioned to completely blow things out of proportion. I mean, at 8 it’s someone cutting your paper or saying you like some boy (that you actually do like). At 15, our mothers are stupid and could NEVER possibly understand what we are going through. At 25, men are stupid and would never make it out the door with their heads and keys if it weren’t for us. At 33, the stupid heifer in front of us in the 20 item or less line with her 22 items is the whole reason that the world is at war in Iraq. I just can’t wait until I’m 50 – I bet I find out that child proof caps cause global warming!!

Well, I’ve got to get – I’m anxious to find out what kind of horrors my child had to endure today in the treacherous 3rd grade today. Hopefully she didn’t punch someone for saying she had brown hair!