Thursday, December 25, 2008

Right?

I have figured it out. Even if I was wrong in my organizer I was supposed to start Tuesday. I don't think 2 days is long enough to start the worry. Right? People can be 2 days late. It happens all the time. Right? And I am not on birth control so there is not the rigid every 28 days on the dot-ness now. Right??
The thing is we USED protection. I feel like Ross on Friends when the betrayal of condoms attacks him and he is robbed of speech. I knew they were not 100% effective, but really, it is only NOT effective if it breaks. Right??

So, do I go get a test? Because heck, if I am. it would be neat to find out on Christmas day. If I am not, however, I really hate the idea of wasting 15 bucks on nothing and I wake up with the blasted bleeding tomorrow. That would well, suck. Right??

Friday, December 12, 2008

My Broken Baby

I should have posted this last week, but I have been distracted.
Last Monday we were busy at work and I didnt' get a chance to call hubby until almost 10pm. I ask how the girls are and he tells me all calm like that Sarah (the big one) fell down the stairs off the back porch.
WHAT?! Is she okay?
Hubby- yeah, she is fine. I checked her and and nothing is broken.
Me (breathe Carrie, breathe)- You checked her?
Hubby - Yeah. She could bend her fingers she just didn't use it. She just held it in her other hand all night.
Me, with fumes swelling in head - What?!?
Hubby- she is fine.
Me- Fine.
BAH!

I get home and go to check on my baby. Her hand is swollen. Her fingers are swelling and there is a hint of blue to her whole hand. I touch it and in her sleep my angel tell me "mommy, don't touch my hand, it hurts bad."
(heart breaks here.)
The next morning she is not using it at all. I ask her if it hurts and she says "more than anything in the whole world."
Thats it! I take her to her Doctor.
Now the big one is shy. However my little one is a never ending chatter box. She will talk to you all day about everything weither you let her or not. So the Dr asks Sarah what happened and she just stared at him. I of course didn't know, I was at work (another check in the pro quitting my job column).
So Miss Maddie speaks up. She said "We were on the back porch, trying to be carefull because the leaves were wet and it was swippery. But we were tip toeing and Sawah swipped and fell." Using her Italian hand motions the whole time.
Oh. well. Okay. Thanks kid.
He checks her elbow and her wrist, feels her hand and says we need an X-Ray, but he wouldn't be surprised to find that she broke her hand.
So they take my baby off to take a picture of her bones. He comes back a while later with the X-Ray and exclaims (very surprised I might add) "She broke her hand!"
I say, you said you wouldn't be surprised if she broke her hand!
He then explains that she broke her middle finger in her palm. The most insulated bone in her hand!
She does get her grace from me...
We schedule an appt to get her casted the next day.
I call hubby and tell him that dispite him becoming an orthopedic doctor last week, she did in fact BREAK her hand.
Felt bad, because he felt awful. Sending her to bed with a broken hand, and knowing she was in a crazy amount of pain.

He gets home from work and I tell him how the appt went, how Sarah didn't tell him what happened, but Maddie stepped up and told the whole story.
He just looks at me and tells me Maddie wasn't there, she was next door on Andrews porch!

At 2, the kid is such a good liar that everyone bought it! She made up a story and we just ate it up!

I am in SOOO Much trouble!

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Lights Out

For some reason that the power company refuses to release my power was jacked up yesterday. But see, it wasn't just my power. It started with my Cable going out, which because of that lovely bundle meant my phone and internet was gone too. I won't get into my need for my laptop and how it is my lifeline to sanity.
I digress.
So Cable goes out, right in the middle of Charwee and WoWah. Screaming ensues. Mommy! Why did Charwee and WoWah go away?? I don't know, how about a movie?
I can't get the player in the parlor to work so I herd them into my bedroom to watch it on my TV. All is well, Mickey's Christmas is always a crowd pleaser.
Then the power goes out. What the Crap!?!
Screaming continues. MOMMY!! Why did the movie go off!?! Because that Karma crap has come back to love on mommy honey.
Now it doesn't really matter that it was daytime and it was light outside. They seem to forget that we don't turn the lights on in the day, but they choose this moment to have a nervous breakdown that the lights won't come on.
Sarah-Mommy! It is dark! We can't see!!!
Me-What? I am right here.
Sarah-Where? I can't see you!!!
Seriously?? uh.
Then they realize, without the aid of a digital clock that it is lunch time. Past lunch time. They are hungry.
I go to the kitchen and look around. Yep. I resolve that the only thing I have to give them for lunch is Bread and Water. That is not going to go over well.
The power comes back on! Woo Hoo!!
They run around turning all the lights on. dorks.
I turn the TV back on and there is CABLE! YES!!!
I turn it on playhouse Disney and before I can turn off Drake and Josh the power goes out again!

MOMMY!!! Where are you!?
I give up.
I sit down and suggest we play a game.
But We are HUNGRY!
So I ponder, do I order in, or take them out? It is raining and ugly and I have girls who will stand in the yard and scream and not move because their shoes are wet. Not an option today. I have already been tried and tested and am on the brink of insanity.
I try to order in. The phone is dead. I find my cell phone and wouldn't you know I didn't plug it up last night so it won't come on!

Yeah, I so quit. NAP TIME!
Sarah- But we are HUNGRY!
Fine, I walk into the kitchen and hand them a bagel.

Then the power comes back on!
I grab the bowl of pasta ala carbinara and throw it in the microwave. PLEASE GIVE ME 4 MINUTES OF POWER! PLEASE!?!
I get lunch done and we are eating, in the light. All is quiet on the homefront. Content.
Then the power went out again.
People wonder why I drink.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Super Sarah!

My daughter is a Super Hero. You might have figured this out if you have been on play dates where she introduces herself as Super Sarah, or if you happened to attend VBS with us this year. I didn't get to go since I work evenings, but I had managed to get Friday off and learned that she was only answering to Super Sarah. I was floored at the number of kids that honestly thought that was her name.
She has a song. Her Super Hero Song. She sings it daily.
"I'm a Superhero, I save the world with the things I do!
I'm a Superhero I'm a good girl. Your not a superhero, because you can't do Karate! (kick here)
If you want to be a super hero you have to be my friend because I am the best super hero in the world"
It is funny. She makes me giggle.
So Thursday my family was at my house and the girls were showing off their new "moves" and Maddie quickly turned the conversation to cake, of course. She says she wants a Diego cake for her birthday (not allowed, hubby hates Diego, but we watch anyway because he is so cool!) and Sarah says she needs a Superhero cake, because she is a Super Hero!!
My mom says that we will take a picture of her in a cape and get it put on a cake. Sarah loves it!
Hubby tells her, Yeah, then I will eat your face!
Maddie stops her dancing. She stomped over to where hubby was sitting hand on hip, finger pointing at him and yells "NO DADDY! You will NOT eat my sister Sarah's Face!!!"
She is so cute when she is mad.
So we explain to her that it will just LOOK like Sarah in the frosting.
She thinks. Ponders. Reflects.
She turns to Sarah and with hands on her hips, finger pointing, head cocked and smiling she says "I'm gonna eat your butt!!"

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Seasoned Wood.

I am a Yankee. I am proud to be a Yankee. Growing up in NY has given me insight others do not have. But moving to the south there have been some things that I do not understand. If you don't grow up with some terms you have no idea what they mean! It is not that I am stupid, I am simply not educated in the hick talk.

We were driving down the road and I noticed a beautiful pile of wood. A sign made out of cardboard and red spray paint (the same color was used to spruce up the pick up in which said wood was contained) said "Seasoned wood fur sale". I am going to let that go. I have seen signs in the past, the funniest of which was "Far wood for sale" That took me a while. Far wood? really? How Far away is this wood from? Do I have to go get it? Is there cutting involved? Because I am not a go find it chop it and bring it home kinda girl. Can I drive? But no, Far wood would surely cause sweating. That might be considered exercise. I will just pick some up at Kroger all bagged up with a handle as to not risk nail chippage.

So we drive by this red truck with the fire wood. Seasoned wood. That sounds fun! I imagine burning this wood in my fire place. It has been a while, because you can't burn a fire with children around. At least not my children. They have hair, it stinks when it gets to burning.
But they are older now. They could comprehend, do not touch the fire. Stay away from the fire.
I am excited!

So I ask my husband, the love of my life, father of my children, person whom I have chosen to entrust my secrets and share my eternity with (well, or until he really pisses me off, which ever comes first). I ask him, What do you think they season it with? Cinnamon? Maybe some apple spice? It might smell sooo good!

He stares at me. Looks at me like I have 3 noses.

WHAT??
Do they use something stupid that makes it smell like pine, because I can get trees that smell like pine in my yard.

He tells me. Like I am the uneducated one. Why does the redneck with the spray painted pick up just tell me it is AGED a season!?!
Stupid wood. I didn't want a fire anyway.

Saturday, November 8, 2008

Sleep!

My children do not know how to tell time and the little monsters got up at 6:30/7am all week. When mommy goes to bed at 2am this time slot is not open for awakenings of any kind. Since I didn't go to work but one day last week I HAD to drag my zombie butt into work and deal with it. Every day it got worse. My lovely husband kept telling me (As if it made my knowledge of his 7 hour sleepy nights flutter away, or make me not hate him one... neither happened) that he would let me sleep in Saturday as long as I wanted.
But he kept his promise. I was asleep at 1:30 and I slept until 1 in the afternoon.
I feel like crap!
I can't win to lose apparently. I got up cuddled with my babies, went to Walmart for dog food (two days of eating dog biscuits is apparently something you don't do), and that is about it. I am so sleepy! Too much sleep, I always thought that was something silly people who are jealous of your ability to sleep 9/10 hours a night tell you. Oh well. I am sleepy! off to bed...

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Come on people!


So I am reading my favorite news site and I come across a headline that cracks me up.

"Fifth Grader draws scariest Halloween mask ever for Art class, gets hauled away to mental hospital by police. (with teacher-terrifying pic of mask)"

Great right? So I click the link and am taken to the most ridiculous story I have read in a long time. They tell a class of 5th graders to draw scary Halloween masks in art class. The Art teacher actually helps this kid make the eyes creepier on his vampire. Great job kid!

Kid goes back to homeroom, his homeroom teacher sees it and freaks out, takes the picture to the assistant principal who stupidly agrees that it is a crazy terrible mask and the kid obviously has issues... and can't come back to school until he has a psych evaluation.

WHAT!?!

Wait, it gets better. When people start to ask what the hell these people are thinking they try to defend their decision by saying that it could be gang related! He wrote "I kill for Blood" on it. Now, lets give the people the benefit of the doubt on this one, they may have forgotten it was a picture of a vampire, and they do... well, KILL FOR BLOOD. But okay. whatever. Idiots want to say this kid is a member of the Bloods street gang. Brilliant.

BUT then they say that the blood the child has dripping from the eyes and nose of the vampire look like tattoos gang member get for killing people.

"They told me the droplets could actually be a gang symbol for the number of people he killed," she said. (She being his mother, They being the school)

Okay, I am not going to sit here and say that gang members don't recruit 5th graders, even possibly in the crime ridden city of Savannah. BUT I am willing to put money on the idea that a fifth grader is not crafty enough to commit murder in such a way as to not get caught. Especially 8 times, which is the number of blood drops on this picture.

They look like drops of blood to me. Color them blue and the vampire is crying. Put them above his head and we got frickin RAIN DROPS PEOPLE! This whole situation is insane. People this stupid should not be in leadership positions, let alone allowed to teach our children! Why is there not a common sense exam people need to pass to be allowed in public service? I will write one. This poor kid just did what he was told to do.

ARGH!

One more pro for the homeschooling side of my pro/con list.
I won't have to deal with idiotic teachers making big deals out of innocent halloween masks and yet, somehow not caring about the bullying, teasing, hitting, fighting "normal" 5th graders do.

These people make my chest hurt!

Link to story - http://savannahnow.com/node/605769

Saturday, November 1, 2008

Tucker.

I really don't know at what point my dog became a dog. I dreamed of this dog for years. It took begging, pleading, crying to get my parents to let me have him. My Golden Retriever I had named before he was conceived.
I dog sat for his parents. When his mother got pregnant with his litter I would talk to her belly. I would tell him of all we would do when he was born. The places we would go, the parks, the beaches. It would be lovely. He was one in a litter of 13. I knew him when I saw him (I got first pick of course). He was my Tucker. At 4 days old he sucked my finger. I would go visit every other day until he was old enough to leave his mommy. My parents, who fought so hard for me to not get a dog, brought along his brother. 2 Puppies! But he knew he was mine.
We slept together, we played together. I would come home and he would bounce through grass to meet me. When I was sick he was there with me. My mom tried to get him to come out and eat while I slept, he would not leave my side. He was not a dog, he was my child. My first.
When I started dating my husband first things first, We were a set. He could not have me without my baby. Things got serious, and I would bring Tucker over so he could get used to our new house.
One day while Brad and I were laying on the floor watching a movie Tucker came over and peed on Brad's head. It was PRICELESS. He wanted to know who this guy was with his mommy!
I got pregnant. People told me I would not feel the same about my dog when my baby was born and I blew them off. What do they know? They don't love their dogs like I loved my dog! He will be a big brother. He is a Golden for goodness sake! It is their jobs to love kids.
But things changed. I don't know how or why. But my dog is a dog. I don't take him places. I don't cuddle with him. There are days I forget to feed him. But even after 4 years of being at the bottom of my priority list he still hopes. He hopes that I will play with him. I feel awful that I don't make time for him. I say his name and he come RUNNING from where ever he is with incredible excitement at the invitation of my attention. I do love him. He is good to my kids even though I know he knows they are what came between us.
I need to stop being an ass and be a better mommy to my dog.

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

What you need to know.

I don't care about much.
I care about my two daughters, ages 2 and 4. My family. 3 friends.
I care about getting enough sleep.
I care about being financially stable.

Other than that, I could care less.

I am a Christian. I was Born in Buffalo NY, raised Episcopalian moved to the Bible belt of the south and now attend a Baptist church. Not because I believe what Baptist believe, but because it works right now.

I find great amusement in things I most people wouldn't think funny.
I enjoy being sarcastic. It is how I cope with life. Things are easier to handle if you laugh at them. I think people need to stop being so serious. Serious is boring and life is too short to be dramatic.

What bugs me.
It bugs me when people don't mind their business.
You don't have to agree with everything that goes on in this world and you really don't have to be a jerk about it when you don't.
It bugs me when people get on their soap boxes and gripe about other peoples lives and how they are not living up to their expectations of them regardless if they are aware of their existence or not.
You don't agree with gay marriage, don't turn gay and get married.
You don't agree with someones religion, don't practice it.
If you are not a Christian and you don't pray, that is fine. But don't go screaming that my praying offends you. That makes you a jerk.
But what really bugs me is when people use the bible as justification for being a jerk.
oh! and it is even better when people use the bible to tell someone who is not a Christian why they shouldn't be living their lives a certain way.
Telling someone they are going to hell is not the greatest way to get your point across.
I will respect you because you are an adult and capable of living your life the way you want to live it.
If people would just worry about themselves and stop getting all bent out of whack about things people do that has no impact on their lives, this world would be a much more peaceful place. As long as you don't harm myself or the people I care about I don't care who you sleep with, pray to, or vote for.

I voted for McCain. Let me tell you why. There are many reasons, and not just because I think Elizabeth needs some back up.
First, I think that the government does enough. It is not the governments job to make sure you pay your bills. It is your job to get off your butt, get educated and get a job. A job with healthcare. They have those. If you want health care, get a job.
Universal heathcare is not a good thing. There is government supported healthcare for those who are disabled, too old to work, and children who are blessed with parents who don't give them healthcare. That is fine.
But why is it my job to support lazy people who won't work? And before you get all upity with me there, let me assure you that a good 60 percent of my family falls into this lazy category. I love them, but they are fully capable of getting off of their butts and supporting themselves. If they don't want to work, I don't want to give them money. period. Honestly though, they make enough money selling drugs to be able to go buy a insurance plan on their own, but if the state gives you it for free, well, where is the motivation?
It is not my job to support women who make more babies then they can afford to keep.
This whole take money from those who earn it and give it to those who won't thing... paleeze.
Second, One of my best friends did 3 tours in Iraq. Those people are risking and giving their lives for us. The Large majority of them are voting for McCain, because they believe he will give them what they need. I will to support them.
But most importantly I don't trust Obama as far as I can throw him. I have watched him for a while. He is good. He speaks well. He is very crafty. But when I listen to him I don't hear a man. I hear a guy trying to get elected. He has made a career out of this politics thing.
I wish we could get a businessman in the white house.

But I do need you to put your teeth in before you leave the house. I don't care if your mullet sporting daughter told you that you looked fine. You don't. If you don't have teeth, don't leave the house. period.