Momma's Boy(s)

When I was pregnant with my daughter some eighteen years ago, I never read any books on what I should expect during pregnancy, during birth, or beyond. I may have browsed the pamphlets and literature that was handed to me by the doctor and the Lamaze instructor.

The internet hadn't been invented yet (can you imagine how we even SURVIVED?!?) or if it had, we didn't have it. I had a mother that was perfectly content giving me all the glory and gory details of the upcoming event.

Fast forward several years when I was pregnant with my second child. Internet was available to a limited few, (not me) but I read every single book I could get my hands on. As a matter of fact, about the third time I came home from work with yet another sack from the bookstore, my husband said, "Really. I think you have enough books. What else could you possibly NOT know?"

That was the last time he ever cut me off books. However, I don't buy them new anymore either.

We're both fast learners.

There was a lot of things I didn't know. Some things had changed since I had my first child. One of the main things I didn't know was that second child I KNEW was going to be a girl was in fact a very large, ten pound bouncing baby boy.

(Yes, ladies. Ten whole pounds. And he came to town through the main highway.)

But a boy?!? I didn't know how to deal with all that stuff. Anyway, we made it through with flying colors and when I got pregnant with my third child a mere six months later, I don't think I cracked open any of those books that were collecting dust already.

I've been thinking that there is a reason that the books don't tell you what to expect after the second year.

No other child would be born. Ever.

The Trying Threes (none of my kids had the Terrible Twos) were nothing like the Pre-Teen years we are going through with the boys. Thankfully, my daughter really didn't give us much grief. She was pretty easy going. Still is.

But the boys? They are the reason that I have grey hair, sleepless nights, adult onset acne, and a secret stash of chocolate.

To make life even more complicated, they are polar opposites. When it is said that "opposites attract," it's not siblings that are being referenced. Believe it.

So to sum it up, we have two completely different personalities, unpredictable surging hormones that can't be helped with Midol or chocolate, unsatiable appetites for foods that aren't in the house, and the inability to hear my requests to pick up ____ (backpack, socks, clean laundry, books, etc.)

I have been making it my life's mission to inform everyone that I can of the impending doom that is boys. Only, I don't have any reference past eleven-almost-twelve. While, I am trying to spread the knowledge as far as I can, I also have to deal with the day-to-day activities and HOPE that I am not making some critical error that will forever alter his, mine, or our life path therefore insuring any and all success he could have had coming to him had I ____ (whatever.)

If I don't let him audition for the play, will that stunt his future chances of becoming an Oscar-nominated actor? (Because it is an honor to just be nominated.)

If don't get him a cell phone so that he can text with all his fifth-grade friends, does that mean he will be ousted and it will hinder his ability to win the election for class president his senior year thereby eliminating colleges he can apply to?

No matter what I decide or not to do with these boys, I am afraid of any possible damage. Big Daddy says that I am doing a good job and that they will have plenty of fodder for the tell-all book that will be written.

He's quite the active partner in the parenting process.

I've been working hard and diligently working on raising respectable children that will grow up to be responsible adults. The last couple of months have been much better than the six prior, but it is still a jiggling act at best.

Don't misunderstand me. I love my boys with every fiber of my being. I can't imagine my life without them. If I was given the ability to a do-over and have only girls, I wouldn't do it.

But you need to heed my warning: Boys are harder than girls. They will work your last nerve.

I have no doubt that should any of my children find themselves in need of therapy later in life, I will be blamed for everything.

I also have no doubt that should one, two, or three of them become famous their father will be the one that is thanked before I am.

I can live with that.

At least I know she has my back

When I started blogging, it wasn't even cool. "Blogging" as a verb wasn't even in use yet. No, back when I started in 2002, I was using a dedicated channel on AOL and we "journaled."

I can remember the very first journal I ever read. I followed her for close to a month before I started my own. To tell you the truth, I don't know why I even started.

But I am so glad that I did.

The kids are big now, and mostly sassy, so chronicling their adventures has somewhat fallen to the wayside. I don't necessarily consider myself a "Mommy Blogger" as much as "A Blogger that happens to be a Mommy."

Unless someone wants to pay me for something, I'll call myself whatever he or she wishes.

Over these last eight years, my reasons for continuing to "blog" or "journal" have grown up with me. I have met some amazing people that are truly my friends even if we have never laid eyes on one another. I have encountered some people that, well, I guess are their own brand of crazy. That's what's great about life--diversity.

As many people that I have been so grateful to meet and be a part of their lives, never would I have guessed that I would meet one person in particular that is so much like me, people may wonder if we are not one in the same.

Those of you that have been reading for any length of time and been following the comments are familiar with Sara.

Sara and I shock ourselves at the similar ways that we think. I mean, sometimes it is downright spooky. When we make our posts, there is no emailing, no preplanning--nothing.

While we have laughed and joked about things over time, TODAY was the day that really, REALLY got me.

Day 16 of Sara's Challenge asks to name a favorite book, magazine, and poem. I was going to write mine yesterday, but I got caught up in other writing-type assignments, and let it go.

Sara didn't do hers, either.

But wait! There's more.

This morning ::coughafternooncough:: when I get up, I am doing my usual Facebook, email, Twitter checks. Sara has posted a link to her new blog post. Naturally, I had to click on over.

I nearly spit my drink out when I read her favorite poem. BY SHEL SILVERSTEIN.

The reason for the spitting and choking?

My favorite poem is by SHEL SILVERSTEIN.

Now, we didn't pick the same poem, and frankly, it's probably a good thing as I would have fallen over dead with shock, but really? Shel Silverstein? What are the odds?

So, I make a snarky comment on her blog post:

And really? Shel Silverstein? Because you KNEW that is the poet I was going to list. Isn't it? You were just trying to beat me to it. Now it will look like I copied you.

To which she replied (in email):

You know, as I wrote that, I thought "There's no WAY Heather is going to post a Shel Silverstein poem..."


Without further ado, here is my favorite poem I was planning on posting. Really.

"Sarah Cynthia Silvia Stout" Narrated by Shel Silverstein

I'm Flattered By Your Fascination With Me

For Day 15 of Sara's Challenge, she asks:

"Some songs bring us back to a moment. Share with us a song and the moment it reminds you of."

I was working on this post yesterday. I had gotten out my iPod and was scanning through my songs trying to find just one worthy of mention. Every song I have has some sort of meaning to me and will take me to moment (or two).

As a matter of fact, a few months ago, I was working on a short story where the main character was reminded of a conversation and its true intentions after the fact because of a song.


Anyway, I have quite a bit of music on my iPod. And I was generally having a good time. I was going through Alanis Morissette and remembered her song, "Uninvited," just out of the blue. It's not even on my iPod.




The first time I heard this song was in Florida in 1998. We had just left to come home and stopped at a gas station to fill up. I was all pouty and whiny because I wasn't ready to come home. And then this song came on.

It was a little "Ironic" to say the least.

Now, I realize that my moment for "Uninvited" isn't that all that special. So, in the back of my mind whilst Big Daddy and I are running errands, I am running through songs in my head trying to come up with something really spectacular.

Like something you'd read in those good blogs.

So, we were in the freezer section at the grocery store. I am debating on which vegetables I could trick lovingly ask the kids to eat when I focused in on the song that was playing.

It was "Uninvited."

I haven't heard that song played on the radio or elsewhere in YEARS.

Clearly, she wanted to be included.

In case you were wondering...

Apparently, words allude me today. I am taking a break from work so that I can write the way I LIKE TO WRITE.

With humor.

In first-person.

Non-formal.

Yesterday, I wrote so much and even had a bit-o-drama to go with it, that today...

I got nothing.

*-*-*-*-*

The above text is what I mentioned in my entry earlier today.

I looked at the "I got nothing" for a few minutes and watched the blinking curser. Only to get up, go into the kitchen, decide the dishes could wait, and retreat to the couch where I spent the remainder of the afternoon watching all manner of courtroom drama.

I can neither confirm nor deny that a nap may have occured.

Today, I attempted to make-up for yesterday's transgressions, or lack thereof. I got up a 5 am. Fixed sausages and eggs. Packed healthy lunches. Cleaned the kitchen. Started laundry.

By the time the kids walked out of the door at 6:05, I was working. Of course, with any office job, one has to warm up. Fix a fresh cup of coffee. Check emails (Google reader) and chit-chat at the water cooler (Facebook).

After I wrote that compelling entry for today, I started in on writing. It was an odd assortment today. The first article was sent back because I didn't use a key phrase exactly as it was ordered. My usual method of splitting up two words that need additional punctuation or perhaps a preposition did not work.

Let's pretend the key phrase was "paper book." Obviously, the words don't flow correctly just as written. Typically, for SEO practices, this method would work:

"Most manuscripts should be written on plain, white paper. Book publishers will reject any queries that are written..."

See what I did there? But, NOOOO. I had to revise.

Anyway, I did a lot of writing today. Since I met my daily goal in a relatively short amount of time, I should have saw these things coming:

• The water meter tank thing is full of water. We can't figure out why. Upon opening the lid, it was discovered that a black widow had also taken up residence. She was none-to-keen to our siphoning out her in-ground pool.
• The internet went down this afternoon (thankfully not while I was in the middle of sending in a copy) for about an hour. It's a wonder I lasted in such primitive conditions. Plus, I was trying to figure out what to make for supper with spaghetti noodles, a pack of raisins, and coffee creamer.
• The power went out AGAIN. This is a daily annoyance occurrence. About a mile or so up the road they are building a substation that is suppose to help something or another. If it would keep the clocks on the right time, that would be a start. This daily loss of power is crazy.
  
• Big Daddy reiterated the fact that I don't have a "real" job despite the fact I have received "real" money. Of course, it is not a lot of money (see bullet point above) but it is more than I made last week and the week before that. And certainly more than the State of Tennessee thinks I am owed. He then followed up with, "I just thought you'd be making a lot more, that's all."
  
• I did not tell him that I thought I'd be thin with long thick locks. We don't always get what we want.
  
• The living room TV died. During Judge Judy no less.
• After a quick google search, I have figured out the problem(s):
  
  1. The flux- capacitor all- spark died. This is common and an easy fix. And cheap! (See above bullet points)
  2. This has happened on every model of Magnavox TV with the same model number as ours. Clearly, it's a conspiracy. I am blaming the blond on "The View."

And finally, I was nominated to be the Secretary for the band boosters. During a meeting that I didn't attend--for the second time. Because I am so good with dates.

However, tomorrow is a new day. Except the small folks will be home at noon.

Well, it's better than nothing.

Fun with the Son. And Sun.

This just in...

It is 9:05 and I just sent Nicholas up for a shower.

(Bedtime is 8:30.)

(Homework is not done.)

I am thinking that if he doesn't get it done in the morning while I get class ready, I won't see him on the playground.

Of course it's MY fault he didn't get done. I made him eat dinner. Darrin was making noise. He was cold. The cat meowed. The moon is in a crescent phase. James Earl Jones was the voice of Darth Vader. Samuel Jackson is in movies he can't see.

Every four mintues, I was saying AS I SAT AT THETABLE WITH HIM (working on my own blog homework), "Nicholas, get on track," or "Nicholas, you need to focus."

It'll be a wonder if I don't get a call from c.hild services tomorrow.

In other ho-hum news, this just occurred to me as ironic. I hope you can appreciate it as much as I am....

Today we had a test in Astronomy. Lit instructor let us out early to "work on the take home test." My Astro partner happens to be in Lit, so we decided to use the next hour wisely, sit outside and study-- Astronomy. As we are going through the three chapters, we decided he wouldn't ask us much about the Sun.

Fast forward....

Half the test was on the sun.

I am sun burnt.

(not evenly, I'd like to add)