Things NOT to do

When you are struggling with morning sickness it is best not to...

1) Potty train.

2) Sit with your husband while he is flipping back and forth between Food Network and Braveheart. Food and battle axes do NOT mesh.

3) Guzzle a bottle of water.

4) Eat meatballs.

5) Potty train.


Blech.

Layton came running into the living room after nap yelling, "I pooped in potty!" We rushed him to the bathroom only to discover that he had pooped in his pullup. He looked down and said, "Oh, man!"

I almost wish I was one of those pregnant women that completely loses her appetite during morning sickness. To me, there is nothing worse than the wild swings between starving and groaning! I just keep thinking of that sweet baby we will get to meet in September!!

Home Birth

Okay, before any of you freak out, I AM NOT HAVING ONE.

But I did think about it. Why am I thinking about this at six weeks pregnant? Because I plan EVERYTHING. I have known I was pregnant since I was three weeks and due to my raging symptoms and overall feeling of well being, I am optimistic that this pregnancy will last. So, I am planning.

We don't have maternity insurance and in the hopes of saving some money I began researching midwives. That and before all the morning sickness and fatigue set in, the idea of laboring at home, in my own bed seemed very romantic. I could eat, watch television on my couch, read a book, ect...

Then I started feeling uncomfortable and I remembered what a wimp I am.

That and I have had two C-Sections and while four midwives PROMISED me it would be perfectly safe to deliver naturally at home, I just couldn't in good concious put myself or the baby in jeapordy to save a few thousand bucks.

This was what led me to my soul searching on the granola mom post...how natural am I? Clay quickly told me that he IS NOT natural enough to allow me to give birth in our bathtub or bed because he would never be able to get in them again.

That solved the back and forth in my mind!

It still fascinates me though. I still think about all the what ifs... If I hadn't let my dr. induce me when I was pregnant with Laura Grace I could have had this fabulous natural birth (I tell myself). If I had argued that there was no possible way Layton was over 10 lbs. maybe they wouldn't have done a repeat C-Sections. But you know what? It really doesn't matter. They happened, the experience didn't scar me (emotionally anyway), and in the end I have two healthy children!

The idea is still fascinating though... can you imagine? I just think of how BRAVE those women are that do it at home. There is some comfort being strapped to fifty thousand monitors and having a nurse right there!

In All The Excitement...

I forgot to talk about my weekend with Andrea!! Last weekend I went to Jackson and spent the night with Andrea and her children. We had plans to watch the new Sense and Sensibility with a glass of wine. Well, I found out last week I was pregnant and so the wine was out! I was REALLY excited to have a reason to tell someone! Andrea was so sweet and asked me what foods sounded good and the only things I could think of were ice cream and pizza.

I am so healthy.

We had a WONDERFUL time talking and visiting. I have missed spending time with her! Her girls treated me to a performance-they were practicing for a talent show at school-and Noah told me all about Star Wars. I had no idea Star Wars is so influential but man was I missing out!

Andrea, THANK YOU for an awesome weekend!!!! I miss you!!

My Toilet Smells

Layton is potty training. He decided this. He came up to me this morning with wild eyes and demanded to sit on the potty. I put him on it and he sat. And sat. And sat.

Nothing.

A few minutes later he ran up again and asked to sit on the potty. Again, he sat.

This has become our day. It is a snow day-schools are out due to icy conditions-so Laura Grace has been the cheerleader.

Me?

I'm gagging in the trashcan. There is nothing more nauseating than hearing your two year old shout, "It's coming! I can feel it! I can feel the poo poo coming out!"

My stomach is rolling as I type it...

No matter how much I scrub the toilet it smells. I never noticed that until I kneeled in front of it, singing endless rounds of Wheels on The Bus.



THank you for all of the sweet comments! It is still very early into the pregnancy, I am only about six weeks. I am feeling very, very sick and I am hoping that is a good sign! My HCG levels tripled when monitored so everything seems to be developing okay right now. I will not go back to the doctor until 12 weeks and that feels like an eternity!

Change

Change is coming....

Big changes.

But not the Obama kind.

However, those will wait for another day. I don't have the energy to get into it. I am not feeling well, my house is a wreck, and I want a nap.

Feel sorry for me yet?

No?

What if I told you my kitchen floor has Cheerios all over it, the washer and dryer are full-as are three baskets in my room. My closet looks like a tornado hit it and Laura Grace's room is a hazard area. The dishes from LAST NIGHT are still in the sink with breakfast dishes and not even a scented candle is helping at this point.

I feel...overwhelmed and sick. Very, very sick.

And Layton pooped on the carpet today. Diaper explosions are horrible things.

PITY PARTY OVER.

This weekend my sweet husband is kicking me out!!!


I am going to leave early in the morning and drive to Jackson so I can spend time with my mom, sister, and crazy nephews ALL BY MYSELF. We are going to go out to lunch and just hang out. I will have no diapers to change, no five year olds to correct, no dishes to ignore....

Want to know what is even better?

I GET TO HAVE A SLUMBER PARTY.

Yes, I am a dork. After I have fun with my family, I am going to spend the night with ANDREA (living a legacy). Her husband is out of town, her children are old enough to fix their own juice and snacks (that is still a far out of reach goal at my house), and we are going to stuff our faces and watch girl movies. The five or so pounds I have lost lately? Oh well!!!

Okay, I feel better. Today may not be such a good day but tomorrow is coming! Anyone else hearing Annie right now?!

Just how granola can you be?

I will not go into detail, but over the past few days I have been thinking about just how granola I can be. By granola I mean granola mom.

Ya'll know what I mean. That woman who shops only at Whole Foods, who probably walked there or at least drives a hybrid, and who somehow manages to eat only organic, wholesome foods. The THOUGHT of Mcdonalds sends her into convulsions of fear because the mere suggestion of artery clogging food is just too much.

There are degrees of granolamomdom. Yes, that is a word. Or, at least it is now.

There is the die hard one who knows all about natural remedies and successfully sneaks in plant oils and plant germs of all variety into her family's food. Her children rise up and tell her that her homemade bread full of whole grain nutty goodness is the best they have ever had. Her hubby tells her she is gorgeous in her glowing, makeup free, poreless skin that will never know cancer because she is INFORMED. Her children have never eaten a Cheeto, nor do they know of Lay's potato chip's addictive qualities. She packs almonds and dried apples in her baby's diaper bag for snacks and has never, ever bought a jar of babyfood.

She is my idol.

I have tried to be that mom. I have bought the oils, the supplements, and even made bread for a six month period. My children rose up all right-they ran from the table. Whole wheat bread should be left for the factories, I decided. Clay told me that if he ever tasted flax oil in his orange juice again, he would take my debit card from me.

Don't come between me and that piece of plastic. Seriously.

I began to slowly realize that all of the money I was spending on the all natural vitamins, the oils, the supplements, the powders and the germs were not really doing much of anything for my family -except drain our checking account.

This is when I transformed into the second type of granolamomdom. I decided that I would keep us healthy by buying organic fruits and veggies, chemical free meat, and NEVER EVER buy anything packaged. It was all fresh, all they way baby! Then I bought several weeks worth of groceries under this plan, cooked from scratch for about two weeks and in one night of hysteria, ordered pizza and sat crying while I stuffed my face.

Me and food do not have a healthy relationship.

This led me to where I hesitantly am today. I am somewhere in between the Volvo driving, organic savvy, environmentally friendly mom that I suspect exists only in Oregon, and the icouldcareless mom that frequents a fast food resteraunt every night of the week.

I buy whole grains, tons of fruit, tons of veggies, and I try my very best to limit my processed foods to Lays, Lucky Charms, Fruity Cheerios, and coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. I am kidding about only buying those brands, but ya'll get what I mean. I have found a tentative balance that is on most occasions, friendly to the pallate and the wallet.

But, this week, I was faced with the sudden realization that I will NEVER be the all natural, brave woman that I so want to. I would love to walk everywhere (but not really because it is guaranteed to be too hot or too cold), give birth at home (Clay would never COME home again), drive a hybrid car (but I don't see myself winning the lottery), cook from scratch using only fresh, wholesome ingredients (but I have children who need me more than their daily five sometimes), and maybe...MAYBE...even reuse a towel in order to save the environment.

I sighed loudly, poured myself a bowl of Lucky Charms, and figured I was doing okay.

Have You Seen This?

The following video is grahic, horrifying, and it quite honestly makes me so sick I can barely type. But people need to see it. This goes beyond protesting with graphic signs outside an abortion clinic. This is truly what happens between the closed doors in an abortion clinic. And I think everyone should see it. Because THIS is what the American people have allowed to happen. This is what we have voted into office.


Please read this post. And watch the video. JUST MAKE SURE YOUR CHILDREN ARE NOT IN THE ROOM.

SICK DAY

We all have sinus infections. And a bad case of the grumps.

Daddy's Pancakes

Clay made pig pancakes for breakfast this morning.

Laura Grace was very happy-she is into the Olivia books right now and is all about pigs!


















Layton loved the chocolate chips on his!!!

The pancake recipe is on my cooking blog :)

I Am NOT Ready For This

I mentioned in an earlier post that Layton is still in his crib.

Since then I have had several emails from sweet friends that seem to think I need to let go of his babyness and embrace big boy.

But when I look at his chubby cheeks and big brown eyes and rub baby lotion on him and he says, "Mommy, hold you," I figure he is nowhere near big boy.

Seeing as this only happens for about two seconds a day and the rest of the time he is tearing around the house, crashing his huge dump truck into everything we are edging more and more into big boy territory.

It is just that Layton being in a crib was so EASY. I just plop him in there and even if he wasn't happy about bedtime he would throw a tantrum or play with his toys until he passed out from exhaustion. IN. HIS. BED.
He was contained, safe, and that was that.

Did you notice I said it WAS easy?

Ever since the boy has discovered he can scale great heights he has been climbing on everything and everyone. This includes climbing out of bed at every chance he gets. Laura Grace never did this. I put her in a big girl bed at age 2, told her never to get out unless there she is sick, has a nightmare, or has to use the bathroom. She cheerfully agreed and we never, ever had to spank her for getting out of bed.

Anyway, Layton usually climbs out during nap time. He chose this morning to set a new precedent.

Clay is out of town and I thought it would be fun to have a friend over to watch a movie. My friend, Rebecca, came over and we stayed up until 1 a.m. drooling over Richard Armitage and giggling like teenagers. When she left to go home I stumbled into bed and passed out. It seemed like only seconds passed when I heard...

"Where is everybody?!? Hey! It's breakfast time! Oh! Good morning, kitty! Do you want Cheerios, kitty? I will give you the box, we will watch t.v. and eat Cheerios, kitty!"

I shot out of bed, ran into the kitchen and gaped at the sight of my 2 year old holding our cat under one arm and the box of Cheerios in his other arm.

"Oh! Good morning, Mommy!"

It was 6 a.m. and instead of playing in his bed until I come and get him around 7 a.m., Layton decided to pop on out himself.

There is not enough coffee in the world...

Why I Should Take The Time To Clean Out Back Packs

I left the house this morning and it was 7 degrees.

7.

That is really stinking cold.

The weather said it was 11 degrees with a wind chill of -1, but my thermometer outside read a balmy 7.

I drove Laura Grace to school, wearing sweats, four shirts, and a jacket. I was still cold. When we pulled up to the school, Laura Grace hopped out and cheerfully said, "See you in a few minutes!"

Huh?

I asked her what she meant and she looked at me as if I had failed the world.

"Mooooom (she used the Mom's a moron voice) remember?!?! You are helping at school this morning."

I am?!

I dashed home, called the teacher and sure enough...I was scheduled to help five and six year olds string 100 Fruit Loops onto yarn. They are learning to count to 100 because Tuesday will be the 100th day of school. Didn't I get the note?

I think furiously and the vague memory of Laura Grace's backpack filled to the brim with crumpled papers that are stuck together with something that I pray is glue...

No, I did not get the note. If it isn't in the take home folder I don't see it because it has been mysteriously decimated in between the classroom and home. I assure her I am coming and panic mode sets in.

I looked down at my sweats (okay, not really sweats but fleece running pants), my sweat shirt, and then over at my son who was still wearing pajamas. Crud.

I put on makeup, managed to make my hair look presentable, dropped Layton off at my neighbor's house (she is my favorite person today), and ran to the school. Wearing fleece head to toe.

Tim Gunn and What Not To Wear chick would be appalled.

I think the principle was slightly so. He looked at me funny and asked me if I was feeling okay. I managed a chirpy "yes!" and nearly skipped off to the classroom. PTA moms should be cheerful-that much I have learned.

I was VERY relieved to find I wasn't the only one in head to toe fleece . I apologized profusely for being so dingy and Laura Grace's sweet teacher was very nice about it. She must know the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree...

Anyway, we ended up having fun. Kindergartners are so sweet because they really, truly LOVE that you are there for them. I got more hugs and kisses from children I had never seen before. Laura Grace looked vastly relieved to see me. Her teacher told me that Laura Grace had walked in that morning and told her to please call my cell phone because I was confused.

Yep, that's me. Cold and confused.

How To Dress Your Child

When The Wind Chill Is ZERO.

For you Northern girls, you are probably thinking, "Meh-zero degrees is merely chilly."
However, for this Mississippi gal, Zero degrees is bone chilling, fetal position, flannel Christmas tree pajamas and staying home with a cup of hot tea weather. BUT I had to get Laura Grace to school and teach preschool today so that didn't happen.

What DID occur was something so daunting that I had to go get a latte on my way to work as a reward for not losing my cool. If you don't live in a cold weather climate, such as Phoenix (sigh)what I went through needs to be shared because after all, you may go skiing one day. So, here you go.

How To Dress Your Children When It Is So Cold You Can't Breathe

1) Put dry diaper on wiggling child.
2)Tell other wiggling and singing child that she CAN NOT wear her ballet leotard to school today.
3) Put undershirts on each child.
4) Tell oldest child that she doesn't have a choice, she is wearing the undershirt.
5) Put a turtleneck on each child.
6)Find youngest child's head that doesn't want to come out of the turtleneck. Reassure him constantly that his head DID NOT fall off and that he is just fine. When he finally pops out red faced and still screaming check for lacerations and move on.
7) When oldest child informs you that she is going to take off the wretched turtleneck praise her for creative word choice but tell her the turtleneck better be on her body when she gets in the car at the end of the day.
8) Move on to sweaters or sweatshirts. Pull on over turtlenecks.
9) Tell youngest that his hands are not lost, they did not fall off, and help him find them while he screams in apparent agony.
10) Help oldest child dig out her sleeves that have been pushed up to her armpits inside the sweatshirt. Try to ignore her frantic whining and wiggling-patience is a virtue.
11) Begin searching for the itchy tag that is making your oldest child bleed and the string that is causing your youngest child to scream as if he is bleeding. Of course, neither one of them is actually bleeding, but move quickly because the situation could get explosive.
12) You didn't move fast enough. One child is shedding clothing left and right because she itches and another child is laying on the floor, sweater half off and turtleneck all twisted because he attempted to undress himself.
13) Take off all layers, inspect clothing, find undershirts and turtlenecks without tags and begin at number one again.
14) Hopefully, if you are able to move on to number fourteen you are seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. The children are dressed, your blood pressure is dangerously high, and your teeth hurt from gritting your teeth in an attempt to remain calm. Hang in there, you are almost done.
Carefully, carefully put socks on your children. Make sure they are perfectly straight, that the line is above appropriate toes and please, PLEASE, make sure that you didn't give the girl gray socks and the boy pink socks because THAT is a whole other disaster.
15) Remove socks and try again because no matter how careful you are they are still going to feel funny inside their shoes.
16) Now you get to brush hair and teeth. I will not get into that because that my friends is a whole other blog.
17) Moving on to coats. Wrestle oldest child into hers. Praise her for not complaining, kiss her pink cheeks and wrap all the way to her mouth that never stops moving. Tell her you love her and watch her eyes light up over the scarf. Loosen it so she can actually talk.
18) Wrap scarf around the child that you still think is a baby-much to his chagrin. Kiss his round, baby cheeks and then laugh as you realize all you can see of him are his eyes between the hood and scarf.
19) Reward yourself with a latte. It's too cold not to.

Layton went with me to get the latte. He saw the bakery case full of huge scones and muffins and his entire face lit up. I asked him if he wanted a chocolate chip scone and he looked up at me with huge, excited eyes and whispered, "Yes, please."

When I gave him the paper bag, he held on as tight as he could to it! He was so proud of his treat!

I hope everyone else was warm today!

Thoughts On Pediasure, Fashion, and Walmart

Has everyone seen that Pediasure commercial where the little girl is telling her mom that she doesn't like everything that her mother puts in the cart?

And while we are talking about Pediasure has anyone been dumb enough to actually buy the stuff? Don't be offended that I am calling you dumb-I bought a huge case at Sams when Laura Grace was a toddler. I went home triumphant, ecstatic and oh so confident that I deserved the Mommy Of The Year award. I was a nutritionist, I was a genius, I was so beyond my finicky eater...

And then she spit out the first sip. Into my face. Screaming that it was medicine.

I took a drink and spit it out also-just back into the can.

Anyway, back to that little girl with her mother.

WAIT-I have one more thing to say about the commercial. Has anyone other than me noticed that moms in commercials all look the same? That they are ALL wearing khakis and a cardigan sweater with a shirt underneath OR a button up blouse with a shirt underneath!?!? It is like the commercial uniform. Once, just once, I would like them to show a mom in a sweatshirt and jeans. That is MY Walmart uniform.

According to What Not To Wear and Tim Gunn, Mom's everywhere are humiliating their children by wearing said sweatshirts and khaki uniforms. Apparently,we should be wearing cute dresses and heels to the supermarket. The blond guy on What Not To Wear said that mom's everywhere are doing a disservice to themselves by not dressing like everyday as if they have a hot date. He told one mom that a leather jacket paired with a turtleneck sweater, dress slacks and cute heels made the perfect errand day ensemble.

I would have given ANYTHING for the woman to ask how she was supposed to breastfeed in that outfit, if spit up goes well with leather, if the three year old would remember that Mommy is wearing leather and a sweater that hides NOTHING before wiping his sticky hands all over her, and finally, how would one go about chasing the five year old in the parking lot while wearing heels?

Just curious.

Back to Walmart. And the little girl in pigtails that likes chemicals pretending to be milk.

Layton has turned into that child. We went to Walmart today and EVERYTHING I put into the cart he turned his nose up at.

"Don't like it."

"That's yucky."

"Gross!"

Sigh.

Walmart is a level of hell when you have children. All of you know this, I am preaching to the choir here. Don't get me wrong, I feel a rush of euphoria everytime I enter the huge montrosity that promises I can find sixty varieties of shampoo, thousands of brands of cereal, and all of the lipstick and eyeshadow a girl could possibly want. My money starts burning a hole in my pocket and my stomach starts growling all at once.

As well as my children's stomachs. Mysteriously, even though Layton has had THREE bowls of Cheerios he is suddenly famished. Laura Grace even manages to go pale and shaky as she claims that she is so hungry she is going to die. Oh, and by the way she has to go potty.

In the potty Layton is undoubtedly going to stick his hand into the toilet, lick the wall, and poop in his diaper. When we finally leave Laura Grace will soak herself getting a drink from the water fountain.

After pottying, we hit the bananas and string cheese. They devour it like locusts and I remain firm on NO MORE SNACKS while they beg for more. Then they see the toys and the books and the shoes and the cute underwear and the....

You would think that since I NEVER give in they would have learned by now that Mommy is NOT GOING TO BUY THE LIGHT UP MY LITTLE PONY PANTIES.

But they haven't learned it yet so I am still waiting for the whole consistency thing to kick in.

By the time we finish shopping (it takes about two hours on average) my nerves are shot, my jaw aches from gritting my teeth so I don't snap at the millionth question, and the kids are happy. Because for some strange reason they love shopping with me. Just ask them. Laura Grace told the cashier once that her Mommy is the bestest person to go to Walmart with.

I guess that is my Mommy of the Year award!

Chicken Tortellini Toss

Has just been posted on my cooking blog...



As well as a yummy new sandwich.

Relaxation

It is amazing how getting back into a familiar routine will make you feel. This morning was Bible Study and we began studying the book of Joel. It is only 3 chapters but those chapters are powerful stuff! It just felt...soothing to sit there in a room full of women I am getting to know well as studied verse by verse.

On the way home I got a call from Clay saying he was coming home earlier than usual, another treat. He got home at just the right time to pick up Laura Grace from school. She was excited to see her Daddy and I was excited I didn't have to sit in the carpool line!

Layton climbed out of his crib during nap time today. Three times. I think it is time for a big boy bed.

Laura Grace is at dance, her homework is done, Layton is in the bathtub laughing with his Daddy, and I am sitting with a cup of hot tea feeling very relaxed!

The washing machine is going, the dryer is humming and the dishwasher is on as well-my work is done for the day! I have candles lit around the house so it smells like Tide, Mulled Cider, and Beef Stroganoff from dinner. A strange combination, but it smells like home.

I just feel... content. Tomorrow will be rushed as Tuesdays always are, but tonight I am going to sit with a good book and drink more hot tea!

Answer To Prayer

On Saturday, me and the kids met a friend and her children for lunch at Mcdonalds (Yes, I went back). It was a bad, bad morning to start with. The kids woke up whining and fighting, I woke up with a pounding headache and I just wanted to stay in sweats and drink hot tea while I played referee between battling siblings.

BUT I had promised and so I showered, dressed, got the kids dressed and threatened them with bodily harm if they didn't magically change their actions inside Mcdonalds. We went out into the pouring rain, met every single train (there is a LOT of them where we live) and ended up being five minutes late.

Now, if you know me you know that to me being late is one of the seven deadly sins. Nothing stressed me out more. As you can see, it was NOT a good morning.

Miraculously, my speech of what will happen if you act ugly worked. Well, for Laura Grace it did. The second she walked in her frown turned into a grin and she ran off to the play area. Layton still clung to me howling about some imagined slight and as I stood in the line that stretched to the back of the restaurant and the fact that one register was open and all of the employees were as usual standing around talking and laughing I felt my blood pressure rising. As well as tears. A week of a crying, irrational toddler, little sleep, and Clay working long hours was too much it seemed as I stood there.

And then I saw my friend.

She came into the McDonald's with her boys in tow. They are the same ages as mine-5 and 2 and they looked exactly as mine had that morning. The five year old was frowning with his arms crossed, the two year old was howling and clinging to his mother's leg. And my friend looked like she was going to burst into tears or explode. She came up to me, we took one look at each other and both of us started laughing. Hysterically.

It was SUCH a relief to know that I wasn't the only mother hanging onto sanity because of the never ending rain outside, the freezing cold temperatures, and whiny, deranged children who are just as tired of it as you are. My friend is one of those women who are tiny, petite, beautiful even with makeup off and her home looks like a magazine. She is your typical Southern Belle if you can picture that. She always speaks softly, has something encouraging to say and is in short, my idol. But in that moment I realized with a rush of relief that she is just like me.

We decided we deserved french fries and ice cream sundaes and we enjoyed every last fattening bite-even with the two year olds still whining and hanging on us.

Laura Grace and my friend's little boy decided they couldn't play together because girls have cooties and boys stink. Whatever.

It is such a relief to sit and vent about the fact our homes will never be clean enough, we will never be thin enough-or rich enough for that matter, that our children were driving us crazy, that we had no patience, and that our husbands probably wanted to run screaming when they got home.

But what made the morning even better was to then sit there and remind each other of scripture that says it doesn't matter. We are to be light in a depraved world, we are to be pure and blameless, we are to control our tongues and our anger (I wiggled uncomfortably during that discussion and was relieved that she was struggling as well). And as we talked about this we also discussed our shortcomings and the fact that both of us seem to be drowning in the day to day stress of being a mother and wife. There is very little joy in the tantrums and squabbling. I didn't picture it that way when I was pregnant, I saw my children calling me "blessed", not telling me they don't like me anymore!! I didn't picture the dust coming back daily, the laundry machine going twenty four seven, and the cat chewing the door frame. ..

I think that is why friendships are so vital for women. God uses our friends to encourage us, uplift us, and give us the courage to go home and settle one more fight and deal with another long day of a crying child. That is why I prayed so hard for friends here like I have in Jackson. It never ceases to amaze me when God answers my prayers-especially when it is something that seems so insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

Moving On

Laura Grace came running out of her bedroom this morning screaming, "THE SUN! I SEE THE SUN!!! IS IT SPRING!?!?!?!?"

And that, my friends, describes my daughter perfectly. She is always running, always shouting, and always waiting for the next exciting thing to happen. She bounces out of bed every morning thrilled to start a new day, to see me sitting on the couch (hugging my coffee), and grins from ear to ear just because she can.

I believe she is also solar powered. On dreary days she actually seems to get depressed. She whines, frowns, and acts like another child. But when the sun is out she comes alive-her whole face shines and her eyes sparkle.

So, today, when the sun FINALLY showed itself after three solid weeks of rain and clouds she was beyond thrilled. She informed me that this could be the best day of her life. That is Laura Grace for you-always hoping, always optimistic, always looking for joy.

Pride

I have a lot of it.

Way too much in fact-as you can tell from my previous stories of when I was little. I can remember being five years old and very smugly thinking that I was smarter than my Kindergarten teacher. Am I proud of this? No. It is something that I have always struggled with and probably always will. I have even told Clay that I want my funeral to be a closed casket because I don't want people seeing me pale and dead.

However, what I haven't conquered is my mouth. Apparently, I have also not conquered my desire to tell everything. Again, I have always been open about how I think, what I feel, and as a result tend to bumble along. God convicts me of this ever so often, I learn the lesson and I continue thinking that FINALLY I have learned self control.

And then I open my mouth again.

Regardless of my opinions, actions, feelings, ect... sometimes what I have to say is going to hurt someone. Even if I post it in a self deprecating manner I forget that not everyone is going to read it in that way. While I may feel that my thoughts and opinions are CORRECT, I should know at the age of 26 when not to share them.

I failed in that.

I wrote the post yesterday only intending to laugh at myself. I was horrified at my actions, sobbed about them to my family and finally began to laugh because I honestly couldn't believe I lost it like that. I can see how it is wrong for me to find that comical but I am the one who now laughs at the fact I thought I was fat at 98 pounds!

When I shared the stories about my childhood I said it in a joking manner because that is how I talk about my past. I laugh and I make light of it because those memories are NOT good ones. I was the first girl in school to get a bra and the boys teased me mercilessly. I would cry in the bathroom because they wouldn't leave me alone and finally, one day my temper flared and I struck out. As in the case with the teacher (that was later fired for abusive behavior) and for the youth minister (that was literally a pervert). I laugh about it now because I can't believe I had the gall to say and do the things that I did-and because I can still see myself as this stupid little girl who honestly thought she could take on the world.

No, I don't take back my opinions that also came out in the post. However, I do take back how I expressed them and how casually I shrugged off hurt feelings. I know they sounded vicious and I will admit, my attitudes toward homosexuality are very cold. That is wrong and I fully acknowledge that. I don't like hurting people and it is the last thing I intended. I considered taking the posts off my blog because to be honest, it has become humiliating. But, as one of the comments pointed out, how can I only show what makes me look good? That isn't honest nor is it fair.

So, once again, ya'll are witness to another one of my stupid, prideful mistakes. Those of you that know me personally and have emailed sweet things to me-thank you. Thank you for understanding what I meant to begin with. I felt like I needed to say more, and to apologize, rather than end it with me standing on a soapbox, collecting coins for my sermons.

I am not perfect. Nor am I even close to it. All I can do is pick myself up and hope that I keep my mouth shut next time.

WOW.

The fact that one post can cause so much controversy and angst amazes me.

Apparently, I am guilty of a hate crime.

For anyone that has been reading my blog for a year or more knows my background and my personal testimony. Therefore, the comments about my youth minister and PK issues were probably understood by those people because they read them in that context. They know my background and the story of those churches and that youth minister and therefore understand why I was so angry.

When I was little I struggled with my temper because I was NOT being raised in a perfect home and because-get this-I AM NOT PERFECT. I know, I know, everyone gasp. All of the inflamed comments (that I have since deleted) seem to focus on the fact that I find it cute I was a hellion. That is anything BUT the truth. I wasn't clear in that because again, I assume the people that read my blog know me and know my background. That is stupid of me because daily someone reads my blog that came across it on Google!

However, I am apparently the only one who gets my sarcasm in the previous post.Those that know me understand that I in no way finding my behavior cute. I was humiliated, ashamed of myself and shocked that I behaved so rashly. But you know what? It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. It doesn't matter that several of you think I am guilty of a "hate crime" because I mentioned a homosexual and how would I feel if that was my son as someone put it.

The fact of having a public blog is that I will be criticized and I can take that. But you know what? I will not be told to be PC. I am sorry if you think I am casting a stone like the Pharisees did-I don't really care because I am so sick and tired of walking into that Mcdonalds and seeing homosexuality FLAUNTED in front of my children. MY SON. If a man wears makeup and jewelry in public he should expect condemnation. I am NOT saying violence against homosexuals is okay, but you know what? I DO NOT think it is okay that they are allowed to work in a place that caters to families and children and flaunt it openly.

I am so tired of it not being okay to express the fact that homosexuality is WRONG. The liberal agenda is literally choking our nation to death. I am afraid to send my children out into a world that is SO full of gray. Morals are black and white. There is ONE way to live and that is it. To be told again and again by the media and by other people that we should accept sin and accept what we know is wrong galls me. Yes, God is a loving God and yes, He loves people even when they sin but you know what? God is also a vengeful God. He demands righteousness and He demands holiness and He demands that we obey HIS way for our lives. Do I think he wuold have thrown things and yelled? NO. I am sure he would have been loving and merciful in all the ways that I was not. But I he would have also told that man to go and SIN NO MORE, just like he told the adulterous woman that He saved from those stones.

And for the person that says I have hurt their image of Christianity, I am truly sorry. Yes, you are right in saying that the leading cause of athiesm is Christians. I fully accept that because I have lived it. I went through hell growing up because of other Christians. But I finally learned that Christians are just like me-scarred, imperfect, and stupid. We are people. We mess up daily and do stupid, hurtful things to other people. The only thing that seperates us is that we have the hope of a risen Savior. We have Christ's example to live up to and Him living in us and slowly, we mature and get better and stronger and more like Him.

Did I demonstrate that at all in the previous post? No, I can honestly say I know I didn't. Did I show mercy and love? No, not at all. My point in posting it was actually to let other moms see how imperfect I am. To see that I royally screw up sometimes. To see how stupid I was and how that poor manager at the Mcdonalds treated me as a result and how merciful SHE was. I completely failed in that, I see that now but I was in no way saying that the fact I made an idiot out of myself was okay. I write in the belief that other Christians and only other Christians are reading this blog and that is again, stupid of me. I know another Christian would at least understand that I made a huge mistake, was able to laugh about it days later and move on.

The Day I Could Have Been Arrested For Assault

I have always had a hot temper. It is rather legendary-just ask the countless boys I slapped for popping my bra strap in elementary school.

In third grade, I made it quite clear that if anyone dared kiss my cheek I would push them down and stomp on them.

In fourth grade I was sent to the Principal's office many times for actually doing this.

In fifth grade another girl in my church told me she didn't like my father (who was her pastor) and I told her quite smugly that she had just doomed herself to unpopularity because I was NOT going to be her friend. I also punched a boy so hard his nose bled because he poked me with a newly sharpened pencil. To my defense, the next day he asked me to be his girlfriend so he wasn't scarred or anything.

That same year I was sent to the Principal's office because I had a teacher who thought it acceptable to dump water on us if we got a wrong answer. I dumped her pitcher of water over on her grade book and told her she looked like a gorilla.

In sixth grade through eighth grade I was going through my awkward stage and managed to hold all my angst in for my journal. And my family. Sorry, family.

In high school I had the pleasure of tormenting my youth minister. If anyone told me NOT to do something I would square my shoulders and set out to do it. When my youth minister insulted me in front of the youth group I stared him in the eye and asked him if he remembered who my father (the pastor) was. I then insinuated in so many words that I had connections and could make him pay for being a perv. I know, I know, I WAS HORRIBLE. Oh, the drama. The angst. The temper...

As an adult I have to work really hard to curb my stupid tongue. I have to work REALLY, REALLY hard. I have gotten really good at faking patience. I don't scream at my kids, Clay still loves me, I have friends who don't even know that I GET mad. Ahem.

But I eventually get to the breaking point. I can't hold it in anymore. I usually take it out on some poor, unsuspecting telemarketer. Or, in this case, the gay Mcdonald's worker.

Yes, I said gay.

After all of this background...here is the story.

It was the night before Christmas Eve. Laura Grace was sick and Layton was coughing and we were all in our pajamas. I decided that I couldn't bring myself to cook and the kid's deserved a treat and so I loaded them all up and we drove to Mcdonalds.

Now, I should interject that I was having a REALLY bad day. I had gifts to wrap (as in ALL of the gifts), several batches of fudge to make, a cake to ice, appetizers to cook and I was so overwhelmed by the sound of my children whine that I really, really needed some help. Professional or familial, at that point I didn't care WHAT kind of help.

And so, that brought us to Mcdonalds. I drove to the drive thru speaker and my window wouldn't roll down. I beat on it, I pressed the button, I cursed silently and prayed loudly and yelled incoherently. Eventually, it did roll down. Only for me to hear the Mcdonald's employee yelling at me to come inside if I wasn't going to talk.

I grit my teeth, smiled as nicely as I could (because the kids were staring at me in the backseat) and VERY politely ordered two chicken nugget Happy Meals with apples and chocolate milk.

I pulled around, paid the rude employee, and went to the next window. I waited for what seemed like an eternity for the Happy Meals. Finally, the window opened and some girl practically threw the chocolate milk bottles at me. Seriously. She just tossed them at me like a football. She followed suite with the Happy Meals. I caught them, stared at her in disbelief and she shut the window.

I looked down to discover that the Happy Meals contained hamburgers, french fries and the milk was white milk.

Let me back up and explain that this Mcdonalds has NEVER gotten my order correct. NEVER in the seven or so months that we have lived here. NEVER.

It was the last straw. I sat there, fuming and muttering like the guy on Office Space with the red stapler, and the next thing I know I am pulling into a parking spot near the door. I sweetly tell Laura Grace and Layton to stay put, grab the offending Happy Meals, and get out of the car-locking it behind me of course.

This is where it gets a little fuzzy.

I stormed inside the Mcdonalds and realized that it was empty. There was no one in sight-just fifteen to twenty (seriously) employees laughing and talking behind the counter. I saw the man who had taken our order, observed that he talked in a lisp and was wearing makeup and people, I just saw red.

Murderous red.

I stormed up to the counter, pointed at him and said, "GET OVER HERE!".

I screamed it at him.

And the idiot came over, looking confused and oh so gay and for some inexplicable reason it made me so furious that I THREW THE HAPPY MEALS AT HIM.

Yes, I threw bags of food at a person.

I then screamed all sorts of things at him. I asked him how dare he be gay and working in an environment that children come into. I told him he should be disgusted with himself for wearing jewelry and talked like an idiot. I told him that I was sick of Mcdonald's pathetic service, lack luster employees and liberal political stances. Yes, I actually said 'liberal political stances'.

I was on a roll.

I then saw that one of the toys had fallen out so I picked it up and threw it at him as well.

The manager then came out, very pleasantly told me that I was assaulting an employee and could I please stop?

I looked at her and through gritted teeth told her that I had two sick children in the car, that she managed the worst Mcdonalds I had ever been in, that my husband had moved me to some godforsaken town that should at least have a decent fast food resteraunt and that I was SO tired of everyone being backwards and ignorant and GAY.

Why I kept focusing on that I really don't know.

She very nicely handed me a Diet Coke and told me to go back to my babies, gently told me it wasn't the best idea to leave them in the car and that she understood what it was like to have a really bad day.

I then burst into tears.

I sobbed loudly that I was sorry, that I didn't MEAN to throw the food and that all I wanted was to get my kids a dinner they would eat and go home and wrap all the stupid presents. I went to the car, hid my tears so the kids' wouldn't know and sat calmly until the manager appeared. She gave me two correct Happy Meals and a ten piece chicken nugget meal on the house. I cried again, apologized again and she told me I was 100% right in my words-and that she understood my actions.

It wasn't until I got home that it dawned on me that I could have been arrested for assault. I also realized that I was still wearing my flannel Christmas tree pajamas.

Couldn't you imagine those mug shots?

Another Book Review-the books are awesome I promise!!!

I have sent God a memo only three times in my life.

The first time I was about ten years old, sitting in the congregation of my father's church, when it hit me like a bolt of lightening. I was SO not meant to be a pastor's wife. Maybe it was the organist's snide looks at my wiggling brother and sisters but I had decided being in the ministerial spotlight as a child was more than enough for my lifetime thankyouverymuch.

The second time was after babysitting for a stay at home mom of four children whose husband was in the air force. I sent God a little note informing him that I would get married ONLY if my husband never joined the military. I was seventeen at the time and blissfully ignorant of what being a mother even MEANT.

Jenny, I don't know how you do it. You amaze me.

Poor Clay didn't know what hit him when he told me he loved me (after knowing me for a week-I fooled the poor guy somehow) and I blurted out, "Okay, fine but you better never join the military or be called into ministry."

And I was dead serious.

Mom, if you are reading this take a deep breath. Clay is not becoming a military chaplain.

The THIRD time I sent a memo was after reading these books...

Every thing's Coming Up Josey

Chill Out, Josey!

Get Cozy, Josey!

Susan May Warren writes about her experience as a missionary in Russia through these books. They are loosely autobiographical and absolutely HILARIOUS. As well as true. The main character, Josey, falls in love, gets married, has twins, and somehow survives in rural Russia with her rather clueless at times but still adorable husband.

The books are a wonderful look at the realities of marriage, motherhood, foreign missions and a rather sobering look at Russia. Actually, I began googling Russia obsessively wanting to adopt fifty million Russian children...but you know what I mean.

They also made me send another memo to God. Dear God, DO NOT SEND MY FAMILY TO RUSSIA!!! Or, Africa. Or...any other country without electricity or pizza delivery.

I am still holding my breath that God received these memos. I am thinking Clay is past the danger zone of one day waking up and thinking to himself, "HEY! Let's go join the army, become a pastor and then when I am done with that, move to the Congo!"

Do ya'll think God rolls his eyes at us?

FOR ALL OF US

Amy at Humble Musings put this on her blog and it is HILARIOUS. ENJOY!!!



The Mom Song from Northland Video on Vimeo.

I don't know about you...

but I am in serious holiday food overload here.

SO to honor my desire to eat lighter I put some new recipes on my cooking blog! They are lighter in calorie but not in flavor! Enjoy :)

YAY!!

I got a reward!! I love these things :) That may show my need for affirmation a little TOO much but I am all about honesty over here.

Thank you, Demetria! I love your blog as well-you have always been one of my favorite people!

I have to answer these questions in one word...

1. Where is your cell phone? kitchen

2. Where is your significant other? shower

3. Your hair color? brown

4. Your mother? mom

5. Your father? dad

6. Your favorite thing? children

7. Your dream last night? snow

8. Your dream/goal? author

9. The room you're in? bedroom

10. Your hobby?writing

11. Your fear? death

12. Where do you want to be in six years? here

13. Where were you last night? grandmothers

14. What you're not? tall

15. One of your wish list items? horses

16. Where you grew up? everywhere!

17. The last thing you did? laundry

18. What are you wearing? sweats

19. Your TV? cartoons

20. Your pet? help!!

21. Your computer? bedroom

22. Your mood? blaaaaaah

23. Missing someone? andrea!

24. Your car? messy

25. Something you're not wearing? socks

26. Favorite store? TARGET

27. Your Summer? lifechanging

28. Love someone? clay

29. Your favorite color? red

30. When is the last time you laughed?yesterday

31. Last time you cried? last week

Okay...now the hard part. Blogs I love....

I am giving this award to Jen, Jen, Ashley, and Jen. That is a whole lot of Jennifers! LOL

I also read Tiffany's blog daily (Southern Sass) but she got the award already.And then, there is Andrea of course. Since I can't talk to her everyday I check her blog! Go check out her blog too! OH and Far Beyond Pearls is amazing too....

Actually, if a blog is on my sidebar it is pretty darn amazing. I like all of my blogger friends!

Our Video Debute...

Layton didn't understand the concept of New Year's Eve... sorry it is so dark!!! We spent New Year's Eve like we always do. We made the children cheesy bread sticks dipped in marinara sauce for supper. I lit candles, served sparkling grape juice, and let the kids use our good glasses to make it special for them. After dinner we played an intense round of The Littlest Pet Shop's Pet Show board game. It can get vicious over here. HA! We have been working on Laura Grace being a good loser and sure enough, she lost the game BUT was very gracious about it. She gave me a high five (while I was doing a victory dance) and told me "good game". We take The Littlest Pet Shop very seriously over here. After tucking the children into bed, Clay and I watched Hancock and The Dark Knight, and stuffed ourselves with pizza. Hancock started off good but then got depressing at the end. The Dark Knight was a guy movie. It was dark, violent, and had Batman in it. Enough said. Not my cup of tea AT ALL. But, since my husband sat through Twilight with me (and was the ONLY man in the theatre I might add) I sat through The Dark Knight. Ick. New Year's was rather anti climatic. We both fell asleep around 11:30, woke up and mumbled "Happy New Year's" around 12:05 and went to bed. Oh, well! HAPPY NEW YEAR'S EVERYONE!!!