Ahhhh, Butt Sniffing!

Guess who ended up coming home after all.

Guess who isn't fixed. 

Guess who spent the whole evening last evening sniffing butts. (And trying to "make friends and influence other 'male' dogs.")

Guess who had to explain the joys of butt sniffing (and other male dog behaviors) to her children. 

Guess whose children think butt sniffing is a great way to go. (They're undecided on the other behaviors.)

Guess who drinks out of the toilet.

Guess whose children think drinking out of the toilet is a great way to go.

Guess who is about to go swirly herself to make it all stop.

(For the rest of Walter's story you can visit the Zoo later today.  I'm sure there will be plenty to write about!)

From Scratch

If you had the opportunity to start over, right where you are; I mean simply stop everything, pivot and go again, would you? Would you change your system, your method, your thinking, your approach? Would you embark on something entirely new? Would you continue your course with a new outlook?

This is where I sit with blogging. I have left it for almost a full year and while there have been days when I have thought, "Gosh that would be a pretty funny post if I could put it down" I can't say that I have missed it.

Blogging is a beast. Some people (ok, me) become addicted to the comments and the numbers and the "potential to influence." Some people (ok, me, again) feel the need to perform at their peak and put out the best they can produce as often as they possibly can. Some people - who am I kidding? - I have, and probably will again, burn myself out to the point of ashes blowing in the wind.

But as I have said before. I need to write. I need to take the insanity that is my swirling brain and sort it out. You get to watch the swirling water from the sidelines and maybe laugh at it from time to time. For me it is essential to staying balanced.

If you are concerned, I have made it through 32 books on my reading list. I only have 42 days so the chances of me reading a book every two days is slim (not that I won't give it a good run!). But I had fun. And I read a lot of books that I might have never even looked at twice (Sense and Sensibility being one at the top of that list!).

And as for news commentary, I'm sure you will understand when I say, "Bleah!" The ridiculousness just keeps churning out not the least of which is Lindsay and the recent Agriculture debacle.

The kitchen has exploded twice since I last talked to all of you so I've logged more hours under my sink and behind my fridge than I care to recount. But my hubs is loving the ability to call his friends and say things like, "Did I tell you that Sarah fixed two leaks in the irrigation system, diagnosed a burnt cellinoid in the back of the fridge, replaced the garbage disposal and still had a delightful full baked chicken dinner on the table when I came home?! Oh, and here. Have a jar of her homemade peach preserves."

The children have kept it together and have actually made progress in spite of me as far as education is concerned this summer. Mo is reading at a mid-term first grade level (per her Grammy's assessment). Tuck is reading at a late kindergarten level. And Munch...well, she has lived up to both her Hollywood and Munch nicknames by donning her shades and eating me out of house and home. They have completely reaffirmed by belief that I will be the shortest person in the house within the next 6 years.

And with that you are caught up. And I am starting from scratch. Sometimes from scratch is the best way to go. The ingredients are there waiting to be mixed. It's up to me to do it right this time.

How to Feed Mom Guilt

I'm pregnant with Mom Guilt this evening. Ha! You thought I was announcing that I was pregnant?! You ain't from these parts are ya?

No, I'm just being over run with Mom Guilt tonight and I need to vent it.

I sit and watch my friends' children excel in literacy and extracurriculars and pretty much everything they put their little hands to. And then I look at my first month of school.

Weeks one and two: had almost daily e-mails and phone conferences with boy's teachers to deal with behavior issues.

Week three: get the letter that #1 girl needs to be referred for help with literacy because she may be demonstrating signs of dyslexia and they want to get her help as quickly as possible.

Week three: also get referral paperwork to get boy into speech therapy which we knew was coming but still...

Week four (that's this week): realize hours after the children have gone to bed that I have completely forgotten to work with #1 girl on her site words for this week and her address which she is supposed to have memorized in the next two weeks.

Parent conferences are two weeks away and I feel like a big old flop.

But then I sat on my bed and I read books with them and they hugged me super close and didn't want to stop. They crawled in their beds and we all said it together:

Good night.
I love you!
And when you wake up in the morning
I'll love you even more.

I have to keep reminding myself that I have to give to them from every area. I have to play as much as I work. I have to listen as much as I talk. And I have to get some sleep.

Mom Guilt sucks up exhaustion like a dog following behind a cookie eating toddler. She'll be fine. She may have to work harder and I'll have to be more patient; but she'll be fine. And eventually he'll meet someone who speaks his language, right?

In the meantime, I'm looking forward to morning.

*************

It's morning and I think the boy hacked my blogger and read this post.

Two hours into school and the school murse called to ask me to come get him. He has had another potty accident and is having a melt down about cleaning himself up.

I got there and he looked up at me from red ringed teary eyes and a drippy nose and gasped out, "I missed you Mommy. Did you miss me?"

What do you do? You know that he acted inappropriately and that he needs to have some kind of punishment. You waver because you SHOULD send him back to class and not give him what he wanted in the first place. And then he melts down at the very thought and you see the exhaustion in his face. He slept a full night last night but he was just "off" this morning when you got him up.

I resigned myself to bringing him home and he is spending the day in his room in "solitary." But we had a long talk about how I DO miss him when he's at school but that just makes me that much happier to see him when he gets home. And I want him to get smart and learn all kinds of stuff so he can teach me and he can't do that from home. He needs to go to school. He cried because he could see my dissapointment which of course ripped my heart out.

And Mom Guilt gorged on the whole scenario because now I am questioning AGAIN if I sent him to school too soon. Maybe he just wasn't ready yet.

Jane, stop this crazy thing called ...... Parenting. (Bonus points if you can name that movie.)

There is a Chance that I am NOT a Good Person.

It's just a chance but you need to weigh in.

Our neighbors have been trying to sell their house for over a year now. They finally got an offer and it was all looking like a done deal. They even spent the weekend packing up their stuff and arranging for a POD to store things in until they found their new house. Yeah, it sold faster than they thought this time.

I was not thrilled about them moving. They are awesome friends and neighbors (so it's obviously not the one I was whining about the other day). And they were getting ready to start a family so I was all excited about helping her out. To find out they were moving was a real bummer but I was holding out hope that the new neighbors would be just as awesome.

I was supposed to go help her pack this morning so that they could load the POD but the POD was no where to be seen. Turns out she cancelled it.

The lending for the buyers fell apart last night. This is where I turn into not such a good person. When Neighborette told me what happened I smiled. I was actually a little gleeful. That's just wrong of me! They want to move. And the new couple sound like they are really nice and sweet. The buyers are getting married in June so now the bride is stressing about losing a house that they fell in love with and planning a wedding! I feel really bad that I was gleeful about the situation.

I just love my neighbors!! I know. I'll love the new neighbors too. But you have to understand it takes a lot for me to open up to strangers. This is a big deal for me!

Just the same I had better start hoping for the best for these buyers because I wouldn't want my friends to be unhappy, right? But she said moving away from us was the hardest part of moving! So maybe she doesn't really want to move either? And they haven't found a new house yet.

I don't know how much longer I can handle this! Maybe I should move!!

It's not like the new folks will be living next to this.
At least not ALL the time!

Because Losers are Awesome! That's Why!

I am a fan of Real Sports with Bryant Gumble on HBO. It really can be a fascinating show and some of the stories are AWESOME! But this month it just flat out ticked me off.

If you haven't seen it yet, and you get HBO you need to stalk for it. There is a story about The Banning of Dodgeball in schools. Yes, I know. Out of 33 followers and random readers from around the blogosphere, at least one of you has a horrible memory of dodgeball. Some of you have horrible memories of gym class and middle school in general. See a therapist. I'm not your go to on this one.

My problem wasn't so much the banning of dodgeball but the reasoning behind it. We don't want children to be scarred by losing. They need to participate in activities that will help them feel successful. Seriously? You can't let children lose at a gym activity?

But it gets worse. They showed further footage of a PE teacher training in which they were...Wait for it! Jumping rope. WITHOUT A ROPE!

Pick your jaws up people. It is real and I watched it twice just to be sure. They encourage children to use their imaginations for how many times the rope can pass under them. And why don't we use a real rope? Because we could trip ourselves and get hurt.

Which leads me to indignation #3. A school has also banned tag. They can only play "Shadow Tag" (step on the person's shadow to freeze/unfreeze them) because too many children were falling down and getting bruises and scrapes. In this economy you want to go a step further and put Band-Aid out of business? That's just wrong!

But no touch tag wasn't enough. Because things were so delightful (please pardon my sarcasm), they decided to ban touching at all. Air high fives. Air hugs. And no patting a friend on the back.

Wait. I'll be right back after I brush the vomit taste out of my mouth.

Who wants to make the first prediction as to what happens to these "Chronic Winners" when they don't get the job on the first job interview? What happens when they get dumped? What happens when they don't get into the school they want because their test scores aren't good enough?

And if we are eliminating everything that could cause injury, does that mean we are banishing all organized sports? No more Tee Ball. No more soccer. Do you have any ideas how many times I stopped a soccer ball with my face in gym class? My sister wore hockey ball badges on her shins for crying out loud! And that was only practice!

Why can't children learn dissapointment? Isn't it more important to teach them to handle losing with grace and sportsmanship than to pamper their egos and give them a false sense of self? Competition is real people. And some people win. And some people lose. It's how the losers handle it that determines their character. The same can be said of winners.

So suck it up. Take a ball to the head or the small of your back. Shake it off and be graceful about it.

If you can see through your swollen eye.

Show me the Funny: Help Me Edition!

Help! I haven't seen any good funnies all week. I need humor and I need it fast. My mood is getting darker by the minute and there is no telling what I might do if I'm pushed too far.

So GO! Go into the blogosphere and bring me back some humor. The survival of the Bowl depends on you! If you Twitter tweet this out. If you Facebook put me on your links. If you stand on a street corner dressed as a cell phone, cow or toasted sandwich wave my link around like mad. Can't say I'll pay you because that would be lying and I'm not a Big Fat Liar (most days). But you will maybe draw me out of my funk and then I'll be able to poke fun at other people and nonsense and stuff.

In the meantime look at the loony I have to live with. And go! Go get me my funny!

My Weekly Out of Character Moment

Apparently I am making a habit of this. The whole acting rashly out of character thing.

I treated the kids to some Old McDonald's today (their words not mine) and we took it to the park with us to snag our allotment of vitamin D. After we ate I of course turned them loose on the play equipment because full bellies + sunshine + fresh air + physical activity = nap. Right?

Everyone is climbing and sliding and swinging and all is well. It's the first beautiful Saturday in two weeks here so of course the park is crowded with house crazy families. Suddenly Tuck pops out of one of the tubes crying. When I asked him what was wrong he told me that "that little girl won't let me through." I was fully expecting to see a 12 year old stuck in the middle of the tube.

It was a little girl probably about four (the same age as Tuck) with her hand in Munch's face telling her "You're not gonna do it either" in the snottiest voice I've heard from a teenager much less a four year old. This is me leaving my body.

The normal me would have shot her a dirty look and moved my children to a different part of the park. Today I was not normal me. "Please move out of the way so other children can play. You are not the only one on the playground and you really need to share." In my brain I was asking myself who was talking.

Snots McFly decided that sure, she would move out of the way. She made her way through the rest of the equipment, down the slide and straight to me. "You aren't very nice to talk to me that way." And she stood there with her hands on her hips like I owed her an apology. This is me not even thinking about returning to my body.

"It's not very nice of you to be rude to smaller children and to talk so disrespectfully to an adult so save your speech for someone else."

It's that voice again! Where is it coming from? Now I am pretty sure that if her people had been around I never would have talked to her that way, so what made me do it today? Was it because her people were no where to be seen? Was it because there were a lot of smaller toddler size children on the playground and I was making a preemtive strike on their behalf? Or was it the fact that I am so tired of mannerless children running amuk on the planet that I finally took a stand?

I am not proud of my behavior at all and maybe I crossed a line. I probably did. Who lets a four year old rile them like that? Just the same, what would you have done? Would you have moved on like Normal Me? Would you have sought out the parents and had a conversation? Or would you have drop kicked her like a penalty shot on an open goal like Out of Body Me?

This parenting thing just keeps getting more complicated.

Show me the Funny! My Fantastic Finds!

Welcome back Funny Fans! It's Thursday (and thanks to the pollen I'm zonked out on Benadryl - this should be fun!) and that means it's time for Show me the Funny! We didn't have a theme this week so if you are wondering if you missed something I assure you you did not.

It's a Free For All! Woo Hoo!

I did a little rooting around and scouring of the web this week to find you some new funny bloggers and sites. Let's hope that you find them as much fun as I did.

My new favorite bloggers to stalk are Dana and Joe over at Life is Good. Technically it's Dana's page but Joe is obviously a reliable source of fodder so I give him credit too. Join me in wishing them luck with their new plan to move to Florida - if they can take the neighbors.

Then I found Jeff Tomkins. His take on the worls is so similar to mine that I was thinking about asking him if I could send my clone to contribute to his blog but then I wondered what I was going to do with all my spare time. Anyway, if you want an idea of how similar we are you really must read his take on President Obama's recent gaffes. I should be on that PR crew.

And how could I turn down a blogger who refers to herself as Vodka Mom?! Uh oh! Mommy's drinkin' again! I Need a Martini Mom is probably not what you would expect from a kindergarten teacher but it just reminds you that teachers are sick twisted people that you trust your children too every day - good luck sleeping with that thought! Remind me not to join her circle of housesitting friends would ya? And you have to see what she's teaching her Kindergarten class about letter recognition.

This next one is for my pal Nut. We were just having a conversation about how the homework in elementary school has nothing to do with the children - it's parental competition. Well, Anna at Life Just Keeps Getting Wierder shared her take on it. Just watch your fingers; those glue guns can get HOT!!

And for our parting shot you have to check out J Jiggety. I am so frightened about sending Tuck to school now that I am shopping for homeschooling supplies. What am I going to pull out of HIS pockets next year?!

What did you find this week? Can you make me guffaw and laugh out loud? Try me! Or snag the button, blog your own and link back with linky! Don't forget to Live, Love and Laugh!!

Two Cents Tuesday: Givin' It Up!

Tuesday, Tuesday! (da da. da da da dum.) So good to me! A time when I can rant all I want for freeeeeeeee! Ok I'll spare you the rest but you should probably know that one of these days I'm going to vlog Two Cents Tuesday and you'll be stuck with the real songs throbbing in your brain all day long. And that is your warning.

Want to play Two Cents Tuesday with me? Well you can't. Not unless you vow to play Show me the Funny too. Ok, so that was a completely made up rule because TCT isn't even mine - it's Tu Tu's and she says that there are no rules and since it's her game she can do that. Because she's cool like that. And I'm really jealous.

What was I saying? Oh yes! Today's Two Cents - Giving. Now it's funny that this should be the topic this week. This week is the Rhino's birthday. And I have no present lined up. As a matter of fact his birthday is TOMORROW and I have no clue. And I have no chance to go snag one without him in tow.

Did I mention that this Mother of the Year candidate had to schedule his four year check up complete with shots ON his birthday? I honestly didn't have a choice people! He has to have the shots to register for school and registration is tomorrow and Thursday. And before you ask me why I didn't do it early, it's because the peds office wouldn't let me, OK?!?!

So for my son's birthday I'm giving him a trip to the pediatrician, shots and an audience as the girls have to go with me. This is going to ROCK! (You got the sarcasm, right?)

Let's take another spin on giving shall we? Lent and giving it up. I didn't do Lent this year. A) I'm only Catholic on paper and until my husband decides to take a real interest and teach me that's all the further I'll get. And B) the economy has pretty much shot all my little luxuries (all three that I had) already so there wasn't much more to give up. Except blogging and my sister would get the shakes if I quit for a while so that was out for the sake of family. (I can blame it on her, right? That's allowed?)

But my husband did give up some things. Soda - an annual favorite. French fries and fast food in general - no biggie since I've been packing lunch anyway. And sweets - pretty big considering me and my baking fetish. I don't really understand Lent that much. Aren't you supposed to give up something and in it's place spend that time and energy focusing on God and His sacrifice? Something tells me the fries weren't really what the church had in mind, but fries aren't that important to me so it wouldn't be a big sacrifice.

And how about one more take on giving. The phrase "givin' it up for..." I don't understand that phrase. Is it that strenuous to applaud or cheer for someone who has done a good job? Why do I have to "give it up?" Can't I just share a round of applause? How about show my appreciation for? Oh wait. That's not slang-y enough. But that's a whole different blog post. I don't get a lot of slang talk but we can talk about that later.

In the meantime, give it up for my pal TuTu and her Two Cents Tuesday! (aaaaaah, woot woot, cheer, roaring applause, etc.)

Show me the Funny Has Been Cancelled.

Since no one felt like playing along or adding linkies, I have decided that I will just pull the plug.

April Fool! Yeah I know it was a lousy attempt but how can you pull an April Fool's prank in print? I'm sure some of you will figure it out now that I've thrown out the challenge.

I was sorting through my personal memorie stores of pranks pulled and I realized that very few had anything to do with April Fools. There was the B & B sign we put on the front of a friends house claiming that it was Peggy Sue and Norman Lou's Bed and Breakfast - Free Breakfast starts at 4 AM. They were farmers - they were up anyway! The best part was that they didn't see it when they went to the barn first thing. It wasn't until people driving by started honking and they crossed back to the house that they saw it.

When we went by on the bus later Peggy had strung Christmas lights around it, donned a frilly apron and was waving to everyone with a feather duster.

We couldn't let them get the best of us so for Halloween the next year we made scarecrows of them, parked them in thier swing in the front yard and put up a banner that said "Peggy Sue and Norman Lou sittin' in a Tree." We used some food coloring to make polka dot toilet paper and TP'd their tree all around the swing. This time though we made sure to do it on a Saturday night so they couldn't do any clean up before church Sunday morning.

I failed to remember that half of my church drove past their house on the way and got busted before 10 AM. My friend and I found "severed" scarecrow heads in trash bags on our door steps Sunday afternoon. But we DID get an "offer" from a made up toilet paper company to help them market their toilet paper.

I have to give my dad credit for The Best Turn Around. One April Fool's I put a black rubber band around the sprayer on the sink - you know the ones you pull up? When my dad turned the water on it of course shot him in the face. I was outside doing chores when he was had so I missed the whole thing. Dear old Dad put the rubber band back and then when I came in for dinner asked me to fill the water cups for the table. Who forgot about her own prank?

Then you have the Great Prank War of Simpson Hall. My suite mates filled a pair of my jeans with the funk out of their fridge then hung them on my door. When I tried to pick the jeans up the mess spilled all over our newly mopped floor. We in turn put clear nail polish on the bar of soap so it wouldn't lather, red cool aid in her strawberry shampoo and a couple of tea bags in the shower head. Oh, yeah! And saran wrap on the toilet bowl. Then we went out.

Somewhere in there all of someone's personals got scattered through and locked in their car while it was parked beside her boyfriend's car but I honestly had nothing to do with that! I had called it quits with the tea bag and saran wrap.

So fess up folks! Grab the button and blog away. It's only two weeks away and I know some of you will need to do some planning!

Now remember, live, love, and LAUGH!

My Parents Knew Better than to Name me Grace!

I'll get around to Wordless Wednesday eventually but I really have to address this first.

We are dog sitting for our neighbor again (a three week stint this time) so on top of my normal toy vaulting, children dodging and laundry balancing, I've been doing the dog shuffle too. He's an 80 lb lab but he is the sweetest dog on the planet (unless you count the loaf of banana bread he snagged off the counter on Monday). He loves to wait for me to sit down somewhere and lay down next to the couch or chair.

Munch and I were cuddling on the couch yesterday settling down for nap and I decided that I should go put her in her bed since she's been having some adjustment issues. I scooped her and her blankies up and turned to head for her room. And promptly tripped over the dog. And by tripped I don't mean stumbled; I mean full blown Mama is going DOWN!

My brain kicked into high gear because I was going down between our end table and our armchair in a space that is only about 2 feet wide. Brain said "Don't drop the baby but don't let her smack her head on the end table either." So Body responded by trying to hit all fours but in the knees and elbows version so that hands and forearms could pull Munch in close so she wouldn't hit the ground. Every muscle in my back must have twisted and flexed in anticipation of the impact.

We hit. I managed to not land on Munch but I immediately started to cry. Partly out of relief that she was safe, partly out of anger at the dog, and a big chunk out of screaming pain. I am now the proud owner of two brushburnt elbows, a bruised knee, a jammed hip and some serious muscle aches in my back and shoulders.

You would think that would be enough for one day wouldn't you? Not according to the cosmos. I took my ibuprofen and curled up with my heating pad and went to bed.

1 AM wake up with raging thirst and a very HOT bed.

2:14 Wake up to a screaming 5 year old who just pooped in her bed because she couldn't find the bunk bed ladder in her sleep. Shower and change her and put her in bed with me.

3:17 Wake up to wailing 2 year old who just fell out of her bed.

4:15 Wake up to thud where 2 year old fell out again.

6:32 Realize that the alarm going off is not going to stop.

I really need to catch up on some housework but something tells me if I manage to stay standing today I'll be on my way to the Mom Hall of Fame! The good news is that with all the up and down last night I never really had a chance to get stiff. That works in my favor right?

Two Cents Tuesday: Sane Parenting?

You can do that? You can't imagine my amazement yesterday when I went to see TuTu and grab the topic for Two Cents Tuesday. "Maintaining sanity while parenting." I am chomping at the bit to hit up her linky and educate myself. There is so much to learn!

But here's my two cents on sane parenting. It can't be done. If you make the choice to become a parent (or in my case if your BC decides to flame out in all its glory - 3 times!), you really have to check your sanity at the L&D door.

A. You will make ridiculous faces that no one in their right mind would ever make.

And some of them will be for cute reasons like making the baby smile and laugh for a million adorable pictures. But I found that most of my ridiculous faces were unintentional and for completely uncute reasons. For example the "Not Enough Hands Face" most often expressed while you are juggling diaper bag, toddler's hand, juice boxes, and stroller while "Mr. I have no Children" lets the mall door slam in your face. Ooo! Or how about "Did I Feed you THAT?! Face" You know the one. The one that contorts your face while you simultaneously try not to toss you lunch as you attempt to clean THAT up.

B. You will ask the same person to do the same thing at least 7 times in a half hour period.

I've read that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over expecting a different result. That is exactly what happens when you ask a child to clean up anything. My playroom is a prime example. I can pile the toys up and ask, beg, plead, cry, wail, scream, threaten, bribe and cajole for as long as I have breath. The children simply will not pick them up. They can't fight gravity it seems. Gravity is what pulled everything off the shelves in the first place so there is no way they are going to be able to put it all back up.

C. You will set out to do one simple task and will end up doing everything but that task.

See, I just went upstairs with the intention of cleaning the bathrooms. But I went into the bathroom and remembered that the rugs were in the dryer so I went to the dryer to get them out and ended up emptying the dryer which led to moving the laundry from the washer. That of course led me to check all the laundry baskets for straggler laundry from the weekend. As long as I was in the room why not make the bed? This caused me to gather up an armful of toys who managed to escape gravity's choke hold and migrate all the way upstairs. I brought them back here to the pile in the playroom and thought I would check my e-mail as long as I was here. The bathrooms still haven't been cleaned. Everyone thinks those "If you Give a Mouse a..." books are so cute. They are until you live them. Every day. For a yet undisclosed number of years.

It is my personal opinion, if you attempt to retain all sanity and still be a parent you will miss out on the best part of the adventure. Sure I have a few bald patches here and there but the doctor tells me as soon as they start to fill in again I can take the huggy jacket off.

My Place in this World!

Jen, at TuTu's Bliss stopped by yesterday and left me some love so being the good, kind and friendly blogger I am (most of the time) I popped back over and checked out her page. Holy Homecoming! It's good to know that there are people out there like me.

She has a great little meme (and I know I'm not the biggest meme fan) called Two Cents. Could there be a more perfect meme for me? I give my two cents all the time so finally I have a reason!

This week's topic of course is Romance what with V-Day coming and all. So here's my two cents on romance. I think romance evolves. So many people say that the romance is gone in their relationships after they have children. I don't think it's gone. Maybe dusty. Maybe a little more evasive but I don't think it every really "goes."

I think romance evolves. I don't get cards and dates and flowers every week anymore. But I get help with the baths. I get someone else to clean the kitchen now and then. I get a hand putting away the laundry or an afternoon to myself from time to time. Sure! The flowers and dates and monkey love scream "I LOVE YOU!" But those other things whisper "I value you." "I want to help you." "We're in this together."

They also blurt out, "Where did all this water come from?" "Who didn't rinse their dishes before they put them in the dishwasher?" "Honey where's the cheese (that is always in the deli drawer if one would move things around and look for 2 minutes)?" "Why are the underwear all mixed up?" And "When are you coming home? I need a nap"

But you know evolution isn't always pretty. Welcome to the primordial slime of love!

Tomorrow Night!

I have homework for you all for tomorrow night. The Octuplet's Mom is on Dateline tomorrow night. Now you saw my interview for her and the preview I saw on the Today Show this morning (for 3 minutes before I got aggravated and went for my walk) was some pretty softball questions. I'm really hoping that Ann Curry is a reader of the Bowl and hit her with all of mine. You can bet that we will be disussing this on Wednesday (the not so wordless part) so I expect you to all come to the table with your notes and reviews.

Gentlemen readers (all two of you!) I will be expecting you to shed some light on this mystery man too. You are NOT exempt! From what I understand he is not the man she was married to for 7 years but rather a friend who helped her out. He has not seen ANY of the children he has "fathered." Jay and Buck! I need you to help me understand this.

So until Wednesday! Although my thoughts will probably go into draft late tomorrow night!

Wordless Wednesday: Big Baskets to Fill!

If you missed the beginning of the story you need to go to The Zoo.

The new Baby! Isn't she pretty?!

And she's a hard worker too!
(I told you I was anal about how my laundry was folded!)

My Interview for the Octuplet Mom

I've tried to keep it in but I just can't anymore. This woman has made my head just about spin off my shoulders. I'm not paying her to grant my interview but here's what I want to know (just in case any of you are journalists). I watched the CNN story this morning and I have more than just a few questions.

#1. How did a person who has not had a job for several years afford IVF?
#2. Who is this "sperm donor" they keep referring too and how does he feel about this?
#3. How can you responsibly have 8 more children when you just bankrupted your own parents for a house?
#4. How did you afford to hire a publicist when you have no job?
#5. According to your own mother, you did this because you wanted "one more girl." Why didn't you take all those funds (#1 and #4) and adopt a child who needs parents?
#6. What makes you a parenting expert?

It's that last question that blows my mind the most. This woman has 14 children under the age of 8 and she thinks she's an expert? I'm sorry. But until you have at least covered puberty with at least three of your children, I don't think you can even dream of claiming expert status. What exactly are you an expert on? Getting them to eat their veggies?

There is something very suspicious about this whole thing. Where did all this money come from? Who did the procedure in the first place? CNN is reporting that they can't find a single fertility expert who would implant that many embryos in a young healthy mother to begin with. The highest number I have heard is 5 and that is for a woman in her 40's or a high risk mother. From my understanding she is only in her thirties (and young thirties at that) and since she already has six children I'm thinking high risk isn't an accurate description either.

And let's get back to the father(s) in this scenario. Where is the father(s) for the first 6? And who is this "sperm donor?" That in itself is irritating me. He is referred to as the donor everywhere so this only affirms my thought that this was a science experiment that went too far.

I understand a woman controlling her own body. I have to wonder though what is in this woman's head to do all of this. And to paint herself as an expert on top of it.

I fear for these children and their future. They aren't even a month old yet and it's already gone sideways. But this is just my take. Please, can someone spin this for me so that I stop thinking she needs to borrow my huggy jacket?

Wordless Wednesday: The Little Chef!

Super Bowl Sunday is fast approaching so I thought I would look back and see what the Little Chef and I were up to. You have to LOVE some homemade mozzarella sticks! Yum!

And before anyone accuses me of being an unfit mother, he did the coating and I did the frying.

Don't worry. We have the Steelers apron ready for this year!

For more Wordless Wednesday (I don't do that very well do I?) check out Mom Dot.

Other things to check out while you're there?
Label Daddy's sponsorship for BlogHer - It could be you!
Dottie Awards '09!

Now THIS Is Sincerely Frightening!

Police: Angry Ohio boy, 4, shoots baby sitter

Tue Jan 6, 12:22 am ET
JACKSON, Ohio – Police say an angry 4-year-old Ohio boy grabbed a gun from a closet and shot his baby sitter.

Eighteen-year-old Nathan Beavers was hospitalized Sunday with minor wounds to his arm and side after the shotgun attack. Police say another teen was also injured.

Witnesses told police the child was angry because Beavers accidentally stepped on his foot.

Beavers was watching the child at a mobile home in Jackson with several other teenagers and several other children.

Jackson County Sheriff John Shashteen says authorities are investigating. The child has not been charged.

There was a shotgun in an unsecured closet. This child has such a temper that a shotgun is the answer to someone stepping on his foot. I am assuming that the shotgun was loaded because I can't imagine a 4 year old having the strength to open and load a shotgun. The child knew how to operate it.

This is just incredible to me. I'm not sure if it's a medical malfunction in the child's brain, lousy parenting, carelessness, irresponsibility or just the whole smash all tossed in a blender and put on frappe!

I grew up with guns in the home. My father was responsible enough to keep them unloaded and when it was affordable for our family buy a gun safe and lock them up. We were taught that we did not touch the guns under any circumstance and when we were old enough we were allowed to learn how to handle them if we wanted to.

We were also taught how to express ourselves so that when someone stepped on our foot an apology was sufficient to make things right. We learned to distinguish between accidents and intentional harm and we knew how to deal with both in a healthy manner. But then again we grew up without a TV so we weren't bombarded by guns blazing and the sounds of violence and chaos punctuated with cursing.

Someday the world will turn right side up again, won't it?

Journey on a Winding Road: Could there be a Better Day?

This has been absolutely one of the worst days in a long while. I barely slept last night despite going to bed at 10:30. I woke up with strange dreams; I couldn't get comfortable in my own bed; my brain was running like a freight train. I woke up more exhausted than when I went to bed.

The children have been fighting all day. And not just "He's picking on me!" fighting. They have been pulling hair, attempting to scratch faces, squealing, screaming and generally in one another's faces to the point that I'm not sure which child is which.

The noise has been beyond unbearable. The cacophany of squeals and screeches has smashed into the glaring yaps and barks of the two dogs trying to chase squirrels off the deck from inside the house. The TV's clamor has only compounded the already pounding ruckus and chaos.

And my ears seem to be the only ones registering any sound. "Please clean up your playroom, " was met with jumping up and down and screaming and wailing and gnashing of teeth. I had to leave the room to control my temper and apparently did a really pitiful job of it because my hairbrush snapped in half in my hands.

I would cry but I can't. I would yell but that would just be more noise. I would take a nap but what's the point? My body seems completely unfamiliar with all versions of rest.

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And that is what a bad day looks like to me. On a good day I would have told you that the children were making me crazy with their picking at one another. The dogs never would have registered and I would have used words like "whining," "temper fit," "giggles," and "shrill laughter."

On a good day I would still have a hairbrush. On a good day I would throw in the towel, pop some popcorn and let us all just veg out for the afternoon.

But today isn't a good day. Today I am on a low. Today I am facing the fact that I am one of millions of Americans with undiagnosed depression who has not sought professional help and who probably won't because of the stigma that I see attached to it.

Perception is reality so this is my perception and therefore my reality in regards to depression. People who are suffering from depression are on medications that they cannot function without. Women who are suffering from depression are one missed snack away from becoming unfit mothers who can't distinguish hallucinations from reality. Admitting depression means I need to be on a couch somewhere discussing my childhood with a perfect stranger in an attempt to regulate my medication.

Is any of this true? Absolutely not! Women can be good mothers and still cope with depression. People who are on medications for depression are just like people who being treated for any other ailment - they are doing it to feel better. Depression does not equal therapy although some people can benefit from it and resolve some of the causes of thier depression through the treatment.

This is where I am beginning my journey. But because I have a serious aversion to going to the doctor; because I would rather shove bamboo under my finger nails than even attempt taking an asprin; because I inherited incredible stubbornness from my grandfather, I am going to take every step and "natural" path I can before I look to a doctor and pharmaceuticals. Call it foolish. Call it making things harder. But it's my journey.

I hope to share successes and failures. I'll be researching and studying and sharing my journey but don't worry. The Bowl won't be dedicated to me and my situation. Depression is a PART of my life but not every day is a bad day.

I'm a Little Weirded Out!

Peruvian Jesus born to Virgin Mary on Christmas

Mon Dec 29, 10:02 am ET Reuters

LIMA (Reuters) – Virgin Mary, a 20-year-old Peruvian woman, gave birth to a baby boy on Christmas day and named him Jesus, Peru's state news agency said on Friday.

The baby's father, Adolfo Jorge Huamani, 24, is a carpenter. Religious Peruvians compared him to Joseph the Carpenter in the Bible.

"Two thousand years later the story of Bethlehem is relived," read the headline about the birth in El Comercio, the main newspaper in Peru, a predominantly Catholic country.

The mother, Virgen Maria Huarcaya, delivered the 7.7 pound (3.5 kg) boy, Jesus Emanuel, in the early hours of Christmas at the central maternity hospital in Lima, the capital.

"A few days ago we had decided to name my son after a professional soccer player," the father said. "But thanks to a happy coincidence this is how things ended up."

(Reporting by Terry Wade; Editing by Vicki Allen)

So try to digest this. By coincidence, her name is Mary. He is a carpenter. And their son was born on Christmas.

I mean, sure why not name him Jesus Emanuel? I hope the children in Peru are kinder than the children in the States. That poor little guy would be in for some serious harassment don't you think? I think maybe they should have stuck with their original plan and named him after a soccer player but that's just my take. I'd love to know how you feel about it!