Haiku Friday

Santa is coming!
Laden with gifts I must buy.
Barbies, games and balls!

Twenty four days, eek!
Shopping must be done and quick!
Get on it, Momma!

My mind is fried
No ideas left in there;
Trust me, I checked.

Thank God NaBloPoMo is over. What a long month. My class is over today, too. Phew.

Happy Haiku Friday!

Thursday Thirteen # 4: Worst Gifts I Have Ever Received

1. A Tree.
I was 21. Lived in apartment. Not really practical.
2. A Hyacinth.
Given for my 16th birthday at my uncle's funeral calling hours. Classy, huh?
3. Clothing saying stuff about dieting.
Just. Not. Funny.
4. A Book On How To Improve Your Troubled Marriage.
Given by my aunt and we weren't having trouble.
5. A Used Sweetshirt Bearing My High School's Logo
Another aunt who was a yard sale junkie and proudly told me she got it at a yard sale after I opened it.
6. Tweety Bird Chia Pet
My Mother In Law gave this to me the second Christmas I was married to my husband.
7. Tweety Bird Slippers
MIL gave to me the first Christmas I was married to my husband. I loathe all cartoon character clothing.
8. Satin Hummingbird PJs from National Wildlife Federation
Given by, guess who?, MIL for my birthday about 4 years ago; they were made for the 80 year old in your life.
9. Rotten Hillbilly Teeth Pacifiers
Given for son's birth by MIL.
10. Maternity PJs
When I wasn't pregnant; given by MIL.
11. Rooster Deviled Egg Plate
Given as wedding shower gift by MIL.
12. Necklace with S pendant
Given for birthday by MIL; my name is Toni!
13. Red Boy Outfit
Received at my shower for my daughter (&, yes, we knew it was a girl)! Giver? MIL!

My in-laws do. not. like. me. Did you catch that?

To see more Thursday Thirteens, go here!

Wordless Wednesday: Christmas With A New Walker And A Rotten Cat

More Wordless Wednesday here...

The Dirty 'S' Word

Her Highness: "Momma, some boy said the S-E word today at school."
Me: (puzzled)"The S-E word. Which one is that?"
HH: "Sex. It is spelled S-E-X, y'know."
Me: (heart falling to feet) "Uh, what is sex, Her Highness?"
HH: "Well, I don't know but he got in trouble for saying it. Is it a bad word?"
Me: "Well... not really a bad word but more of a grown-up word."

The conversation happened several days ago and ended at this point, much to my initial relief. I was thrilled that she had only heard the word and did not know any more about it. Now, though, I feel like I missed a great opportunity to talk with her about sex. See, this course that I am taking this week is Human Sexuality. We are talking about anatomy, sexuality and dealing with many facets of sex, as a whole.

I learned last night that there was a chlamydia outbreak in a local school a couple of years ago. No big deal, right? I was unsurprised until the instructor went on to explain that the school was an elementary school and it was an entire class of FIFTH graders! Fifth graders! Fifth. Graders. Ten or eleven-year olds. Apparently, these children were left unsupervised at a birthday party and engaged in an orgy while the parents were outside the home. An orgy. In the FIFTH grade.

My thought was I wasn't even sure what sex was in the fifth grade! Let alone an orgy! Yikes. Double yikes!! The instructor then went on to say that children are peppered with sexual images online, on the TV and in print from an increasingly early age and they are, in turn, becoming more sexualized at an early age. Great.

So, I stopped and talked to her after class. She told me to talk to Her Highness NOW and educate her at home so she doesn't get misinformed at school or on the bus, which I guess is now a hotbed of sex in latter elementary school, as well. So, I have to do this. I don't want to but I have to. I want her to value herself and her body and not be lured into something that will stay with her forever because of my discomfort. Statistics show that parents who talk to their children about sex have kids who are less likely to engage in risky behavior or engage in sex at all. (Fingers, toes and legs crossed!)

I was the eleven year old who thought I was hemorrhaging when my period unexpectedly showed up one May morning in the fifth grade. Kind of sad that I knew what hemorrhaging was but not menstruation, right? My mom calmed me and assured me I was not dying but said, "Oh, I'm so sorry. This is horrible. You will have to deal with this every month of your life until you're really old." She handed me some pads and told me I wasn't going to school that day. That was my education about my famed Aunt Flo. Sweet, huh?

I later overheard my mom telling my grandma that I had started that day (horror of horrors!) and then my grandma told my grandpa (even bigger horror!). So, the whole family and then some were privy to my deepest embarrassment and I still didn't even really understand what was going on until the sixth grade when they showed "Julie's Story" and talked about sex, menstruation, etc. I read "Are You There God, It's Me Margaret" by Judy Blume around that time, too, and both enlightened me way more than the sorry way my own mother did.

In her defense, she was a kid when she had me at fifteen. I have since gathered that my grandparents were not very informative regarding sex and all surrounding it. I vowed, though, as I got older that if and when I had a daughter, I would educate her better than I was and make it less of a death sentence and more of a rite of passage. Well, now I have to live up to those earlier vows and I am scared to death.

Role Reversal

So, I posted on Saturday about how well my husband and kids survived while I was away shopping on Black Friday. I was feeling a little blue that I was shown up by my husband's apparent superior parenting and multi-tasking abilities. Fine. It's a fluke, right?

Well, I don't think so. RxMan is off work all this week so that I can take an intensive five night class. He went to the grocery this morning while the little monster, I mean, our son napped to buy supplies for the food he will be making for dinner each night. Dinner? What's that?

When he's working, dinner here consists of mac 'n cheese, grilled cheese, cereal, leftovers or soup for Her Highness and I. I always have veggies for the boy but the girl and I make do with easy. I know that makes me a crappy mom but, oh, I am so not trying to win any awards here. I am just trying to grow these kids up to not be delinquents and crackheads. (Of course, I am kidding. Every family needs a crackhead!)

I have a feeling, though, that my husband is going to prove that our roles should be reversed. He is by far the better cook, more organized and less distract-able than I. Not to mention, as so many of you did, that my kids act like little cherubs floating around the Messiah when he watches them. When I am here, the boy screams for hours and doesn't nap but when Daddy watches them, he takes 4 or 5 hours worth of naps, without fussing.

So, I fear that this week will be the week when I learn that my already suspect SAHM skills are proven to be incredibly sub par to RxMan's. He said I should get a job that would support us and he would switch with me. Hmmn. Tempting but seeing as how I still have a couple quarters left to finish my degree, probably ain't gonna happen and I don't have the bod to strip or hook so...

Oops: Missed my 100th Post

Yesterday was my 100th post and I totally spaced on it. I was stoked as I watched the number creep toward that milestone and then, yesterday, I just missed it; I simply forgot. I have to blame it on the hangover-effect Black Friday and Turkey Thursday (triptophan, yo!) induced because for a person who is sleep deprived, voluntarily leaving the house at 4:20am is, well, stupid.

I have to thank those of you who read my blog on a regular basis and comment because I thought for a long time I was writing just for the sheer act of doing so, which was okay because this exercise of journaling can be quite cathartic at times, whereas others it is like an exercise in redundancy. To get that confirmation, though, that someone else at least read your thoughts is a high, though, and a reason to keep pressing on.

I understand that the tradition is to post 100 things about oneself in honor of this milestone, of sorts. I will do that but over the course of several posts because, frankly, my boy will not allow me the time to put down 100 and, really, what is the point in coming up with them if no one takes the time to read. So, beginning tomorrow I will share some things you do not know about me!

As always, thanks for reading and, especially, commenting!

Back So Soon?

So, I shopped Black Friday and survived! I returned home unscathed, although my wallet is much, much lighter and my credit card bills much, much higher. I would like to report that I am now done, done, done with shopping but, alas, that is so not the case.

I left home yesterday morning at 4:20AM with an anvil in my gut, as The Conqueror had just awaken for the millionth time and I am the go-to person at night around here. My husband goes to the nursery and fetches the baby while I pee and get settled in a chair. He then hands him off to me and goes to the family room to sleep (he is banished there when I have the baby because of his thunderous snoring). I nurse him and put him back to bed.

But, as I left home in the inky darkness on my quest for deals, I felt guilty that Daddy and the boy were going to have to tough out the remaining hour or two of night without me, which has never happened before. Of course, they, too, survived. Daddy reported that the fussiness lasted only a few minutes and the little dude accepted him as a substitute for me.

I called often (okay, every hour) while I was away, checking on the family at home. Daddy grew increasingly annoyed with my "checking". When I returned home, I expected to find a frazzled RxMan and deliriously happy-to-see-me boy, as well as a bored to tears daughter. What did I find?

The Conqueror sleeping. For two hours. For the second time that day! What?! I rarely get two 2 hour naps?! My daughter was watching TV in our spotless living room, which had been a cluttered mess just 10 hours before. She proudly pointed out the Christmas tree she and Daddy had assembled, too. (Yes, it is fake. I have kids with asthma and allergies. And, I am on the lazy side so cleaning up dried pine needles doesn't interest me.)

What?! He cleaned and assembled the tree? He also unloaded the dishwasher, made lunch and cleaned the kitchen? How? I am here alone with the kids most days and I rarely get the dishwasher filled, let alone emptied! And, how did he have time to vacuum and assemble the damned tree?

So, with a heavy heart, I applauded him and thanked him for all he did. I also realized that I was not going to swoop in and save the day because the day was better off without me. Sigh. No Super Mommy in this house. A Super Daddy, perhaps. I wanted to come in and rescue my husband and have him say, "OMG, how do you do this every day without me? I am beat!" or even "This kid is driving me crazy!" Nope. I got, "oh, done so soon?"

Haiku Friday: Shopping 'TIl Dropping!

Thanksgiving is gone
Now is time to shop 'til drop
Won't be long; I'm beat

Baby up all night
Husband incessant snoring
I am tired now

It is three thirty
I am heading to mall soon
Black Friday, yippee!!!

Wanna play along with us on Haiku Friday? C'mon, it's fun!

Thursday Thirteen: Things I Am Thankful For...

1.My husband.
Without RxMan I wouldn't have my two children. He is my best friend, my rock and my soft place to fall. I thank God each and every day for sending him to me.
2. My daughter.
I love this nearly eight year old for her intellect and rabid curiosity, as well as for having the sweetest of dispositions. She has endured so much and is an example to me of resilience and courage.
3. My son.
No one has ever loved me as much as this child does. Ever. Because of breastfeeding, he and I are bonded in a way that I never was with my little girl. I love his adventurous spirit and his stubbornness.
4. My home.
It is easy for me to take this for granted because I have never not had a warm, safe place to sleep at night.
5. Food.
Again, I have never not had food. In college, there were days when it consisted of mac and cheese or noodles but, still, food.
6. My family.
As irritating as they can be, I love my parents, brother and family and the extended group. I am blessed immensely to have a great group of people who come at a moment's notice if I need them.
7. Poopy Diapers.
Regular readers may recall the drama that surrounded my son's bowel movements. Thankfully, the troubles seem to have remedied themselves.
8. Sleep.
I am thankful for each and every hour of sleep I get. I have never been a good sleeper but I had forgotten how fleeting rest can be with a little one in the house.
9. Vick's VapoRub.
Magic, I say. Magic! For some reason, this odiferous ointment calms my son's asthmatic coughing and, for that, I am thankful.
10. Babysitters/Latchkey.
I'm that mom: the one who sends her kids to the sitter and latchkey for some peace. I don't do it often but I do do it. Thank God I have the means to do this!
11. Jack's Big Music Show.
A variety-type show on Noggin that can soothe my son when nothing else can. It also is a distraction when doing nebulizer treatments.
12. Blogging.
I am hooked, I admit it. I like to blog but I love reading the blogs of others. I get to live vicariously through your lives, get a chuckle or at least not feel so alone in this world of being a SAHM.
13. Friends.
Last but, of course, certainly not least I am thankful for my real life and bloggy friends!

Hoping you and yours have a blessed Thanksgiving! (Here's more Thursday Thirteen!)

Wordless Wednesday: I'm Thankful for....

Wanna see more Wordless Wednesday?

10 Reasons It Is Great To Be A Woman

1. Shopping or fishing? Shopping!
   
2. Owning more than two pairs of shoes!
3. The salon: facials, manicures, pedis, wine, what's not to love?
4. Engagement Rings. 'Nuff said.
   
5. Wedding Gowns; satin, chiffon, being a princess just once (hopefully!) in your life.
   
6. Being a wife.
   
7. Months 4-7 of pregnancy; the puking has subsided (for most of us), you're not a bus just yet and the baby is moving like mad. What a great time to be a woman!
8. Being handed your child for the first time and knowing you did that. You created this little person; Amazing!
9. Being able to laugh until you pee your pants and not getting embarrassed in front of your friends.
   
10. Always being able to say, "'Cause I'm your mother and I said so!"

Wanna see the reasons others posted?

Impending Birthday

When I was a little girl, birthday parties typically consisted of my mom baking a cake and an assortment of aunts, uncles and cousins descending on our home with gifts or, as I got older, cards with some cash in them. Well, as any of you who have children old enough to have "friend" parties know, birthdays have turned into an extravaganza in many cases.

I don't really know why this has happened but it has. I think parents are to blame because, really, most little kids are satisfied with so very little. Do we try to live vicariously through our children by creating these lavish parties? Or, are we just in pissing contests with the other parents we know, trying to show what we have? That is more my theory and, believe me, I am as guilty as the next person at partaking in this overblown birthday bonanza business. Not to mention the fact that parties are time-consuming, expensive and, well, a pain in the arse.

We only had family parties until Her Highness turned five and then we had her first "real" party. Because she has a December birthday, we rented a local gymnasium and an inflatable slide. We invited all the children in the world that we knew in order to justify this expense. It was a hit! The following year, I organized a Princess Party for about eight six year-olds in which they all came dressed in costume and ate finger foods and crafted. Last year, we took about 15 kids bowling.

This year, however, I am scaling back. Way back. We are inviting cousins and the neighbors. And that is it. Nothing too fancy compared to many of the parties Her Highness has attended in the last year. One party she went to involved a trip to the salon, movies and dinner out at a steak place. She got her nails done and an up 'do. Another time she was taken to Build-A-Bear and lunch. All great parties but at some point the line has to be drawn. I am drawing it here and now. This year, we are having cake, food and a craft; maybe some karaoke because our theme, after all, is Hannah Montana.

With HH's birthday falling only sixteen days before Christmas, I have always struggled with inviting people to parties because of the financial crunch so many experience at this time of year. I have tried the "no gifts" strategy but it was unsuccessful, as I was certain it would be. (There is no way I could attend or send my child to a party without a gift.) And this year, with gas prices what they are and the economy in my area so sluggish, I just couldn't ask another person to bring a present to my daughter who is in need of absolutely nothing but some new socks.

So, I am going against the grain. Being a rebel. I will not be inviting your kid to my kid's party. Don't worry. We have lots of Barbies, too many Bratz and oodles of Littlest Pet Shops. You, dear friends, are off the hook this year. Take your money and buy a gift for a needy child because the kid who lives with me is far, far from needy.

Boys!

My son has recently taken to sticking his fingers in my mouth and fishing around in there. I would like him not to do this because...well, it hurts and I don't want him doing it to others. So, yesterday I was playing with him and he jabbed his fingers in my mouth and scraped my lip and I groaned out loud. He stopped and then continued his fishing expedition.

Hoping to curtail this, I pretended to cry. When Her Highness was small, I could make her cry by just feigning crying and I thought it might show him that it made me unhappy. So, I puckered up my lower lip and made all the whimpering noises. He stopped. He looked at me intently. He opened his mouth and...

Laughed.

Really, really hard.

Yeah, this kid will be the death of me. I can tell.

Positive Outlook

When I woke up this morning, I decided that it was going to be a good day damn it. And, guess what? So far it has been!

Lame post, I know. Curse you, NaBloPoMo!

Haiku Friday

Oh, reclining chair
How I loathe sleeping in you
I miss husband, bed

The boy was ill, yes
He wanted me to hold him
His crib? Not anymore

Asthma, doctor said
Coughing, wheezing, my heart broke
Back to the old chair

It is Haiku Friday, want to join in?

Thursday Thirteen: Things Grown-Up Toni Would Tell Teenage Toni

1. Resist getting bangs!
They are so hard to grow out and once you get them, you'll never get rid of them. Resist!!

2. Don't drive so fast.
You're not a great driver; slow down. You're going to have a couple really, really bad accidents and if you go too fast, you could get badly hurt.

3. Don't be so quick to burn bridges.
I know that being a teenager is all about being impulsive but friends are hard to make as you get older and there is really something special about friends made in childhood (Holla, Suz!).

4. Don't be such a slacker.
Use high school as a time to learn how to study- or at least take notes and manage time. College will be much easier with these skills. It is hard to believe that you won't always be one of the smartest in a room, but it happens and college is all about studying and time management.

5. Take Home Ec.
You don't really get pregnant from the water in this classroom. This course will come in handy as you grow up to be a mediocre cook at best so you need all the help you can get!

6. Don't worry about not having boyfriends.
They don't get your wit and opinions but, just wait, in a few years, you will meet a MAN who will appreciate all of your quirks!

7. Treat Russ better.
This guy will be your first boyfriend. Don't treat him badly by making fun of him saying "I love you" and for being sweet to you. Besides the fact it makes you look terrible to your friends and classmates, it comes back to bite you in the, er, arse. See #8.

8. Don't get drunk and watch Tombstone with Russ.
This would be the biting in the arse mentioned in #7. Beer + alone + horny teens + revenge = broken heart for 19-year old Toni. Resist the urge to just get it over with; it is a special thing and should at least be remember without a Bud Light-induced fog around it.

9. Try and get along better with Grandma Dixie.
When she gets sick, you will be devastated and realize how important she really was. This one is hard because you are both so hotheaded but give it a shot. She won't be around forever.

10. Run for student council, try out for volleyball; think outside of your box!
Don't worry about losing so much; it seems like this is such an embarrassment but just trying is so much more rewarding than always wondering 'what if'.

11. Don't peg those pants.
It looks so bad and stupid. It is just not a good fashion decision; trust me.

12. Hairspray is not a fashion accessory.
I know in the late '80s and early '90s, big hair was still in at PHS but, seriously, it ain't pretty. Really. Not. Cool.

13. High school is only a blip on the radar once you leave.
It is hard to imagine but, once you graduate, all of the drama that defines high school seems so trivial and juvenile. Enjoy this carefree time because it is the end of childhood and the beginning of a pretty great life to come.

This tongue-in-cheek list was inspired by Brad Paisley's song "Letter to me", in which a letter is written to the younger version of the speaker's self. Want to join in on Thursday Thirteen?

So, what would you tell your teenage self?

Wordless Wednesday: Storytime

For more Wordless Wednesday, visit here...

A Day at the Pediatrican's Office

RxMan and I took The Conqueror to the doctor today. While we were there, I got a chance to check out the other people in the waiting room; I am nosey, I readily admit. RxMan claims that he can't have a conversation with me when we are dining out because I am too busy listening to the conversations around me. As much as I hate to say he's right, he is.

Back to the doctor's office, though. As we sat waiting on our turn, two teenage girls entered with a baby. Initially, I was alarmed at the dress and appearance of one of the girls. She was pierced in several places on her face, had inordinately high heeled boots on and hair that was multi colored. I should probably stop here and remind you that I live in a pretty small community. A very conservative and sheltered community. There are not a lot of people around who wear these sorts of clothing and piercing to the pediatrician's office. But, as I am trying not to be judgmental, I make a note to myself not to judge a book by its cover; perhaps she is a fine person and is just a little less conservative than the rest of us. I try not to focus on her skimpy clothing and look at the baby, as they are sitting directly across from my family.

I, um, overheard that the baby is nine months old. I was unable to determine whether the baby was a boy or a girl because it was wearing a gray sweat suit. The child was clean and well dressed so I was chastising myself for being narrow minded. Then I, um, overheard the child is a boy named Dallas. He was almost as rambunctious as my son so I smiled at the girl knowingly, patting myself silently on the back for being friendly.

Then I noticed something shiny in this boy's ear. Did I see that right? Surely not. I tried to catch another glimpse without being creepy-stalker momma. My fears were realized. This nine month old baby boy had his ear pierced. His ear pierced!?!

I was alarmed. I was disgusted. I was...being judgmental again. I tried not to. I can't help it, though! So, RxMan and I had a lengthy discussion about whether I was being hypocritical (Her Highness had her ears pierced at 1) or not. So, weigh in. Moms and Dads, would/did you pierce your son's ear(s)? At what age is that appropriate? Did I freak out because I am way too conservative? What do you think??

Asthma? Not again!

My daughter has asthma. She was diagnosed at 15 months, although I am certain she was born with it. Her asthma was out of control for about 5 years because she also had a severe case of acid reflux that exacerbated her disease. Once the reflux was medicated accurately, she showed great improvement. In fact, last week at a check on her lung function with the pediatrician, he told us he was confident that she was essentially outgrowing her condition; her tests actually indicated that her lungs function about 40% better than the average girl her age and size. This was long-awaited good news.

Because of his sister's long, sordid, complicated medical history (which is at least 2 posts) with asthma, I am constantly watching The Conqueror for signs of the illness. I was suspicious in the spring that he was beginning to present with symptoms. The doctor, ever hopeful, held off on a diagnosis and commended me for breastfeeding because of the benefits associated with allergies, asthma and health in general. Now, though, the boy is sick again. He is using his sister's nebulizer and I am pretty certain that he has asthma, too.

Now, I have to admit that I am a pessimist and a wee bit of a hypochondriac. I worry needlessly about many, many things. This, though, is one of my biggest fears and one of the main reasons we put off having a second child for so long. Her Highness was sick. All. The. Time. She coughed until she vomited dozens of times some nights. She took steroids that caused her face to swell into the moon face associated with steroid use. She had CT scans, xrays, IVs and took more meds than many elderly people do. I was hopeful that breastfeeding was going to be the magic bullet for my son. Sadly, I fear that it may not have been.

I know that because we have experienced all of these things in the past, we will better deal with them and may be able to get to the root of the problem (if there really is one) much quicker than we did with Her Highness. I still have a heavy heart today after spending yet another night holding yet another coughing, wheezing child.

Windex...Yum!

To my kids, Windex is like crack. They can't get enough of it. Her Highness has outgrown her addiction but The Conqueror is reveling in his. He loves, loves, loves licking windows and all glass surfaces to taste the squeaky goodness that is Windex.

We spent this afternoon with my parents at their home and my son was allowed to sit on the dining room table, which is incidentally covered with glass. (See where this is going?) Well, he soon figured out that it had recently been cleaned and leaned over and licked the surface. He then begins crawling across the table but I grabbed his leg and pulled him back. As he was pulled across the slick glass, he left a slobbery trail the size of his ten month old tongue in his wake. Classy, huh?

The good news for me is I don't clean. So, our surfaces are rarely freshly Windexed so I don't have to worry about the little fiend getting his tongue stuck to a window like the kid on A Christmas Story did to the flagpole.

The Christmas Tree Rug

At dinner last evening, Her Highness, RxMan and I were discussing Christmas and Christmas trees.

Her Highness: Am I going to get my little tree in my room again this year?
Me: Yes. I don't think we're going to put up a tree in the family room this year, though.
Her Highness (alarmed): What?! WHY!?
RxMan: Well, between the cat and your brother, the tree will get trashed.
Her Highness: Oh. (pause, contemplating) Well, just put the rug out and send Santa a note and that will probably be fine.

We are planning on putting up a Christmas tree for the entire family; I was just joking with her. The tree will be surrounded by a baby fence to keep the demon cat and our rambunctious son out of it, though. That'll be purty, huh? Incidentally, the rug she mentioned is the tree skirt but she apparently thinks it has some sort of magical significance other than just covering up the tree stand and wires.

Haiku Friday

Wonderful Husband
Takes fussy baby and I rest
It's just what I need

My house is a mess
Laundry, Toys everywhere
What's a mom to do?

I surf internet
Avoiding the wreck around
The mess will wait, right?

It is Haiku Friday, want to join in?

Thursday Thirteen: Dear Santa, Part Deux

Her Highness has requested these thirteen items for Christmas (and many more!):

1. Barbie Gril
2. Barbie Fashion Fever Trend Freinds
3. Rescue Pets E-Pup
4. LiTTlest Pet Shops
5. High School Musical the Sownd Chrack
6. Apple iPod
7. Hannah Montana stage Playset
8. Bratz be Bratz.come mini ceyboard
9. Bratz the movie Funky fashion Mackover
10. a girl skaterborad
11. Ditigal vidoe camera with preveiw screen
12. hungry hungry hipos
13. Bratz big kids music stars boll

What is your Thursday Thirteen???

Wordless Wednesday: Dear Santa...

Happy Wordless Wednesday!

Look What I Got! NahNahNahNahNah!

Not to gloat or be obnoxious but look what I got! Bloggy bling bling!!! Bradley, at the Egel Nest, bestowed quite an honor on me: my very first award! I am all kind of thrilled inside!!!! Look at the sidebar and see where I proudly display it.

Sending big thanks to Bradley for the honor and for sending some traffic towards this newbie blogger. I only hope to achieve the blogging greatness that Bradley shows at his blog. The dignity with which he conducts himself makes him an example for all of us new to the blogging business.

Another shout out to Bradley for the recognition of my wee blog!

Thanks, Ben Franklin, for a Lousy Night!

Dear Mr. Franklin,

I know that Daylight Savings Time was your brain child. Well, it might have worked for you stronger, Colonial types; those of us, however, in the 21st century are not robust like that. We, sir, are soft folks; those who do not get up at the crow of the cock and do not toil in fields for our food. We are quite thankful for many of your inventions, like bifocals and electricity and, to be frank, those inventions are part of the reason we are not brawny and rugged enough to endure DST.

For instance, this morning, at 3:45am, my ten month old son, woke because his wee body felt it was nearly 5:00am. Ben, may I call you that?, I understand that you were something of a man who liked to imbibe, as well as a lady's man, a playa' if you will, so I think you understand what it is to need your rest. I NEED TO SLEEP, sir. Desperately.

My son is teething. He has a bad cold. I do not get a lot of sleep right now and this DST is not helping. So, I am hoping that you can contact some of your ghost buddies who can get in touch with the White House and have them rescind this ridiculous practice of Spring Ahead, Fall Back. I just cannot take another disruption in my nights that are fraught with them all ready.

There is no need to reply if you are able to work out the problem as stated above. Thanks for your time and I am quite sorry for interrupting your eternal rest but I think you must understand the importance of a letter in changing the world.

Yours truly,
Toni

NaBloPoMo: Am I Crazy??

I did it. I signed up just now to join the craziness, the wackiness, the insanity that is NaBlPoMo. I was tempted all along but chickened out. Lotus, over at Sarcastic Mom, won me over. That girl, she is having a freakin' great time with this stuff. I mean a fabulous time. I think, though, she is the kind of gal who could have fun with a paper bag and a stick of gum but her enthusiasm was contagious and I got caught up in the fervor of her excitement. So, ready or not, I am onboard the NaBloPoMo train.

So, now I just have to figure out what to write for the next 26 days. In. A. Row. With no breaks. Oh, Gah! What did I get myself into???

Ten Months Old!

Today, my boy, The Conqueror is ten months old!

In some ways it seems like he has been a part of my life forever. He has melded into the fabric of this little family so well that it is hard to even imagine our lives before him. For months, I would still forget, for just the eensiest second, that we even had him. Like when signing a card, I would automatically sign RxMan, Toni and Her Highness. I didn't even stop to consider writing his name, too.

Now, though, he has managed to stake his part in the family. He is the earliest of the early risers. The boy rarely, if ever, sleeps past 5:30am. RxMan and I used to bemoan Her Highness's waking at 6:45 on non-school days. Now, 6:45 seems like heaven. He is loud, too, and difficult to ignore (much like his father). He worships his sister and has begun to say something that sounds a lot like her name when she enters or leaves a room.

The kid is a waving fool. He loves, loves, loves to wave. A special greeting is the two handed wave which is reserved for only the most special of people (ME!). He pulls himself up and is trolling around furniture and walls and walking with his walk behind. He eats well and loves his veggies. He has six teeth, as of bedtime. He bites. Hard.

Everyday I am amazed at what he is picking up; he is truly a sponge. I am also amazed at the way in which he interacts with my daughter. That is truly one of the greatest joys of having him; seeing Her Highness be a big sister. She was destined for the role and the mutual affection is immeasurable. Seeing them together makes me feel like all of the difficult days (nights!) are worth it.

So, I am feeling a little weepy today. I would hit pause on the remote control of life if possible and keep him at this age. He is still a baby but I watch the baby ease more into the body of a toddler each day as he acquires new skills and grows. He doesn't want to be held for snuggling much any more; those days have passed. But, he has begun to do something that is a pseudo-kiss where he opens his mouth wide and lays it on your cheek and if you move at the right time, you don't get bitten. He also has started laying his head on you and saying, "ahhhh." We have decided this is giving "lovies".

It is always a give and take in parenting, I know. He learns a new skill and moves slightly more away. It is my job to raise him, I realize, but I had forgotten how painful even these little letting go's can be.

Haiku Friday

Daylight Savings Time
Wreaks havoc on one and all
Spring ahead, Fall Back

Darkness earlier
The boy will be screwed up
Extra sleep? Not me.

It is Haiku Friday, wanna join in?

Begging for Candy?

My mother relayed a conversation she had with my eight year- old niece regarding trick-or-treating and I found it amusing.

Mom: Beggar's Night is tomorrow at the mall.
Niece: What does that mean?
Mom: Well, that is what they used to call trick-or-treating.
Niece: (puzzled) Why?
Mom: Well, I guess because the kids go door to door "begging" for candy.
Niece: (horrified) Well, I don't beg for anything and I'm not doing that!!!!

But, of course, she did.