Gonna party like it's 1999!!!

Rather than one, long, ginormous New Year's post, I'm going to break this thing down...and don't have me break this thing down for nothin'...now I wanna see ya'll on ya'll baddest behavior...lend me some sugar...I am your neighbor!

Sorry, I got carried away channeling Andre 3000. You can take the girl outta the hood, but you can't take the hood outta the girl!

I'm going to reflect on 2008 over the next week. Hell, let's make it 8 days. I'll follow suit with Alicia, at Two B's And Me and I will give 8 valuable lessons I learned this past year. This will give me time to really think about it...and check in with myself to see what will stick with me about 2008.

Ya'll be careful tonight...don't do anything that I wouldn't do. Here's a list of things that I wouldn't do on New Year's Eve in case you need it for reference:

1. Stay sober! Bor-ing!
2. Kiss someone other than my significant other at midnight!
3. Go streaking! No, strike that...because ya just never know!
4. Pass out before midnight!
5. Drive drunk!...so pack your jammies!

That's only 5 things I wouldn't do...no, wait...I removed one of those. So, only 4 things I wouldn't do...that leaves it wide open!

Have fun..and...

Are you there, God...It's me, Nikki

Stay with me here, folks...we're going to swing out wide, then come back around to make a point...I promise!

I consider myself spiritual, not religious. I feel like we all have the ability to be as close as we want to, to God, or Allah, or Muhammad, or Buddha...to whomever we pray...without someone standing in a pulpit telling us what we should and shouldn't do and even worse...impressing fear and guilt on a congregation.

My personal beliefs...I believe in a higher power...I don't know who or what he/she/it is...but, I believe in an afterlife and a spiritual existence. I just don't choose to associate myself with any one particular religion. I don't judge those who do or try to impose my beliefs on anyone else...and hope for the same in return. To each his own...and what a miserably boring place this would be if that weren't the case and we were all the same!!!

On the other hand, The One doesn't really believe in a higher power. He's analytical and a realist...and ALWAYS keeps both feet firmly planted on the ground. Most of the time...this is a perfect balance to my wandering mind.

Alright...we're going to start the wide-swinging...

In my Psych class this fall, I learned about the refractory period during sexual stimulation. It's the period of time after an orgasm, during which a man/woman cannot climax again. Most women have a very short refractory period, if they have one at all. Most men have a refractory period that is at the very least, several minutes and can be hours or even days! This is something we've all pretty much figured out for ourselves, though...without the psychology dudes explaining this to us.

Last night, I got to thinking about these refractory periods. I thought to myself:

What would it be like if it were the other way around? What if men had multiple orgasms and women only one and then a lingering refractory period? Men already have a souped up sex drive...can you imagine if they also had the ability to have multiple orgasms? They wouldn't work, or eat, or sleep and our species would've died out very soon after it began, because men would spend all there time in their personal Masturbatoriums.

Which then led me to think:

This might be the most convincing argument I've yet come across, that there is indeed an intelligent design. Someone up there knew what he was doing. Someone up there knew that:

testosterone + no refractory period = extinction!

When I argued my point to The One last night...I even had him questioning things a bit!

Alright...thanks for sticking with me...I told you I'd bring it back around and tie a nice, neat, pretty little bow around it. So, maybe it's not a nice, neat bow...maybe it's string and twisty ties and whatever I could find handy...but, you get my point, right?

I'm alive! WooHoo! Thank God, I'm alive!!

Christmas came and went...just like it does every year, and unfortunately, I say this with much joy and jubilation! I'm just so happy to have survived it!

Don't know what made this year so stressful...but it was! I'll try to figure it out and change it for next year.

One big problem I'm running into is the whole Santa thing. The One Who Knows Everything is onto us...totally! Why am I surprised? He knows the truth...he knows the big guy isn't real, but is just being kind and not completely fronting us out...maybe for the sake of his brother and sister.

The One Who Doesn't Say Much...is starting to question the process...but, staying true to form...she's not talking! The One Who Gets Away With Murder...he still has the carefree spirit of a 5 year old and totally believes...but, the questions are coming. I can feel it.

Am I alone...or do you all feel like a putz for lying to your children? To build a case for myself in the future...I've never said the words, "Yes, Santa is real." I dance around the truth with OJ Simpson-like agility..."I didn't put the presents there...Daddy, did you?"..."I've never seen Santa...have you?"..."Do you think he's real?" "If the Santa suit doesn't fit...you must acquit!"

I feel like I'm setting them up for major disappointment. I don't want to lie...but, I don't want to kill the spirit of Christmas for them at such a young age. I don't know about your Santa...but, ours is broke. Broke as a joke. As they get older, they're asking for bigger and bigger things. This year...The One Who Knows Everything asked for a laptop...Santa can't afford shit like that...and definitely can't afford shit like that for all three of them!! Santa asked Dr. Soos (my mother) to help a jolly-brotha out! In perfect Grandma form...she obliged. She spends the night with us on Christmas Eve and after Santa gifts in the morning, we exchange gifts with her.

The look of disappointment on The One Who Knows Everything's face was crushing when he saw that Santa hadn't brought his laptop. Part of me was thinking, "Look, you little asshole...you have no idea how hard it is to get you everything you want for Christmas...your Dad works his ass off, we cut back and save...just to get you the things you want...Don't you dare pout, I will beat you on Christmas!" But, then...it dawned on me...he's wishing and hoping to this magical, make believe person to make all his dreams come true...to give him everything he asks for...and all he has to do is mind his parents! In his defense...I'm sure it's a little disappointing when you ask the big guy for one thing...and one thing only...and you wake up and it's not there! I'm sure it's a pretty big blow to a nine-year old!

Then it gets me thinking about the people who are financially much worse off than we are...how the hell do they give their kids what they ask for? I can totally see why those growing up in low income families, or poverty stricken households are more likely to participate in criminal behavior...THEY'RE PISSED OFF! Probably because Santa disappointed them year after year...they hoped and wished and behaved their little asses off...all for nothing. Then they find out..."Oh, by the way, he wasn't real anyway...you were never going to get all that shit you wished for! Now grow up and get a job...life sucks...DEAL WITH IT!" I'd probably start shooting the place up, too!

I'm just having a real problem with the whole idea of Christmas. Not religiously speaking...I get all that and have plenty of issues with that, as well. I mean, I know I turned out just fine believing in Santa and all...but, I'm just wondering...is it all necessary?

The Twelve Days of Christmas, Bullock-style...

I'll spare you all a video of me singing this little ditty...Christmas is stressful enough already without you having my singing voice ringing through your ears this holiday. You'll have to sing these lyrics yourself!

On the 1st day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…a migraine that could bring a mammoth to his knees!

On the 2nd day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…two dozen houseguests, and a migraine that would bring a mammoth to his knees!

On the 3rd day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…three feuding children, two dozen houseguests and...DRUGS...I'm going to need drugs for this headache!

On the 4th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…four holiday parties, three feuding children, two dozen houseguests and a migraine that would bring a mammoth to his knees!!

One the 5th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…FIVE OVERDRAFT CHARGES…OMG, seriously? Are you F-ing kidding me??, four holiday parties, three feuding children, too many people to feed, and a migraine!!!

On the 6th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…six hours of sleep, FIVE OVERDRAFT CHARGES, four holiday parties, three kids that won't SHUT UP..., two dozen houseguests, and a labotomy...that's what I need for this headache!

On the 7th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…seven days on a beach…oh wait, no…I dreamed that...F$&*...six measly hours of sleep, five overdraft fees...looks like we'll be having this for dinner instead:

four holiday parties, three annoying children, two dozen houseguests, and a migraine!!!

On the 8th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…eight strands of lights, seven days on a beach...I wish!, six hours of sleep, five assholes at the bank, four holiday parties, three feuding children, two dozen houseguests and a migraine that would bring a mammoth to his knees!

On the 9th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…nine thousand gifts to wrap, eight strands of lights that never work, seven days on a beach, six measly hours of sleep, all those overdraft fees, four holiday parties, three feuding children, two dozen houseguests and a headache...for the love of all that is sane and good...WHY AREN'T THESE DRUGS WORKING!?!

On the 10th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…ten TV specials, nine thousand gifts to wrap, eight strands of lights, seven days on a beach...yeah right, six measly hours of sleep, five overdraft charges, four holiday parties...”oh yeah, good to see you, too…how are the kids?…could you show me where your shotgun is!?!”...three awful children, two dozen houseguests and that horrible, horrible headache!

On the 11th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…eleven pairs of pajama pants, ten TV specials...that clay-mation abominable snowman FREAKS ME OUT:

nine thousand gifts, eight strands of lights, seven days on a beach, six hours of sleep...i need more sleep, five...F#$% F#@% F#%#, four holiday parties, three little rugrats, two dozen houseguests, and a migraine!

One the 12th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…twelve bottles of cheap wine…it looks like this is the only way we’re gonna survive this, people...eleven pairs of pajama pants...you won’t see me in sequins or silk…it’s flannel for me, all season long, ten TV specials, nine thousand gifts to wrap, eight strands of lights, seven days on a beach...that's all I wanted...DAMMIT, six hours of not near enough sleep, five overdraft charges, four joyous parties, three nightmarish children, too many houseguests and a headache that will be the death of me!!!

Merry Christmas you guys!!!

Dear Santa...

Depending on who you ask...I've been pretty good this year. I'll keep this short and sweet...

All I want for Christmas is the ability to shower, evacuate my bowels and do "laundry" with my husband...without the children banging on the door, yelling through the door, or lying on the floor shoving their hands and/or notes under the door.

I'll level with ya...it's bad. They will not give me five minutes to myself. I didn't need to get rid of my uterus as a means of birth control...the children don't give The One and I enough time alone to ever come CLOSE to reproducing any more of their kind.

Is there anyway you can help me out with this problem? Maybe soundproofing for my bathroom walls, an impenetrable force field I can surround myself with...no, that will inhibit the "laundry"...what about a shock collar or a electric fence to keep them away from the bathroom/bedroom door!!

Is that too much to ask. If you think about it...it's a gift the whole family will appreciate. We all know that this would protect my sanity, which will trickle down to the well-being of The One and the children!

So, think about it...see what you come up with...and drive safe, big guy!

Love,
Nikki

P.S. I am impressing an embargo on the following items...prohibiting them from entering our home...just in case they made it on one of my children's lists:

Guns
Knives
Any sharp or blunt object that can be used as a weapon
Drum sets
Microphones/Megaphones
Amplifiers...the little shits are loud enough on their own!
Wrestling video games...this is for the safety of the dog and others!
Anything worth more than $25 bucks...they will just destroy it or lose it anyway!
Any of those FurReal things...dogs, lions, parrots...those things are just creepy!
No live pets please...I have enough trouble feeding the 5 of us and the dog!

Thanks for your cooperation!

Ya do what you gotta do...

People tell me all the time, "I don't know how you do it. I don't know how you go on after losing a child. You are so strong."

To tell you the truth, I don't feel strong. Very often, I feel weak and fragile and frail. I think surviving the death of a loved one is more about perseverance than strength, and I think it's more about honor than bravery.

How do you do it? You dig down deep, pull yourself up by your bootstraps and you put one foot in front of the other. Some days the steps are quick and steady and a brisk pace is kept...some days they are heavy, slow and painful, but forward-moving just the same.

The world spins only forward, friends...so, we might as well dance!

Thanks for all the warm wishes today!!

Eleven years ago today...

I began one of the most challenging, yet rewarding jobs that anyone can have. Eleven years ago, today...I became a mother.

We knew that The One I Miss So Terribly would have to fight to live. We found out in my 18th week of pregnancy that he had a birth defect called Gastroschisis. His abdominal wall had not completely closed during development and his intestines developed on the outside of his body. We were told that when he was born...they would take him immediately to surgery and they would simply slip his intestines back in through the existing hole, then close him up. It was supposed to be simple...pretty cut and dry, and he would be left with only a small scar. It would turn out not to be anywhere near that easy!

I was being closely monitored by a Perinatologist and my C-Section was scheduled for the 4th of February, roughly 3 weeks before his due date. In early November of 1997, I had a dream. I dreamed that he would be born before Christmas. I don't recall the dream, or the details of it...I just remember telling The One the next day, that we had to get ready because the baby was coming early. I even told my family and insisted on my shower being held in November before Thanksgiving.

On December 15, I started having contractions. The doctors said I wasn't in labor, that it was just Braxton Hicks contractions...but, I knew. As I stated before, a mother knows! I kept contracting and they would try to send me to the regular floor of the hospital, but my contractions would pick up, so they would move me back down to Labor and Delivery. They had me on ridiculous doses of Magnesium to stop the contractions...the baby wasn't coming, but my uterus was pissed off! Three days later they finally decided to do an amnio to see what was going on. When the fluid was drawn...the room fell silent. The fluid was black...it was bile...the baby had been vomiting in-utero.

Things began moving quickly...everything was a blur. About an hour later...I was in the operating room. I was groggy from all the drugs and remember the room spinning and desperately looking for The One...I was 20 years old and I was terrified! When Joey was born, the doctors knew it was bad immediately. His exposed small intestine was black and necrotic. His intestines had twisted, cutting of the blood supply, and had died. I didn't even get to see him when he was born...they immediately whisked him away to the NICU. They would be rushing him straight to surgery, to see just how much of his small intestine was gone. It didn't look good...it looked like a significant portion had died. Your small intestine works to absorb nutrients from the food you eat. Without it, you cannot maintain adequate nutrition and you cannot survive.

They rushed me into the NICU to see my baby before he went into surgery...they wanted me to see him at least once in case something happened behind those double doors. When I saw him, I didn't see the tubes, or wires, or leads...I didn't see the bandaged mass on his belly. I saw my boy...my perfect baby boy. A part of me and a part of The One. He was beautiful...all 4 pounds, 10.5 ounces and 18 inches of him! He arrived EXACTLY seven days before Christmas on December 18th...a mother always knows!

They took him away and we waited. I was being moved from recovery to my room on the postpartum floor, so the time flew by. The hours seemed like minutes and the surgeon returned to my room. I could see it on his face. The news wasn't good. Joey had lost 90% of his small intestine. He could possibly survive with 40%...but, definitely not with only 10% of his small bowel. I remember the surgeon saying that the GI docs didn't want him to finish the surgery. The GI docs told the surgeon, "When you saw how much was gone, you should have just sewn him up and said there was nothing we could do. This baby doesn't stand a chance." I didn't understand that kind of talk. He was MY baby...my perfect baby boy...and he would fight. And put up a good fight, he did!

You all know how this story ends. Although it's not the happy ending we all desperately desired...I wouldn't change a bit of it. I wouldn't be where I am today if I hadn't experienced this great loss. I treasure these memories. I was fortunate enough to learn at 20 years old lessons that some people never learn in a lifetime. You heard me right...I'm lucky...I gained perspective, depth, meaning, understanding and compassion.

This time of year is extremely special to me. It represents and reminds me of so much about my firstborn and about life. While we were cleaning last weekend I came across Joey's keepsake box...chock full of letters of congratulations and sympathy...diapers no bigger than a maxi pad and tiny outfits that would be too small for a doll that my sweet boy wore in his first few days of life. It contains outfits and socks that he wore in his last days of life, sealed in a ziploc bag in hopes that they might still smell like him. They don't...time has robbed me of that. But, I have this box...this box full of memories and things...all that I have left in this world of my first born son!

I pulled a few of my favorite things out of the box and hung them on my tree this year. I don't know why I hadn't thought of this before...but, they are there now and they warm my heart.

When Joey died...we stayed in a hotel room and my family packed up his things so that Jake and I wouldn't have to. We came back to the apartment and all of his things were gone...but, we found his paci under the bed. It's a moment Jake and I shared that I'll never forget.

His sippy cup lid...it has his little teeth marks on it...physical proof that he did exist and it wasn't all a dream.

Happy Birthday, Jo-Bo!

Conversations in the car...

On the way to school today:

The One: You guys know that since you had a snow day yesterday, you'll probably have a makeup day.
The One Who Gets Away With Murder: Awwwwwwww...MAN!!! *he starts whimpering*
The One: What's wrong with you buddy? Why are you crying?
TOWGAWM: I don't want to have a makeup day.
The One: Sorry, that's what happens when you have a snow day.
TWOGAWM: But...I HATE lipstick!

I guess we don't have to worry about him being a drag queen!

An explanation...

As to why The One Who is Adopted hasn't gone out to pee in a day and a half!

Snow Days Suck!

The One took the kids to school this morning...I did what I normally do...groggily said goodbye, then rolled over to catch some peaceful zzz's began some quiet reflection. A few minutes later, my hibernation meditation was interrupted AGAIN! It's The One...with all 3 kids...back at the house...being loud...jumping and bouncing...and TALKING...for God's sake!

I wanted to cry...the school was closed when he got there...snow day! It's not even snowing! Snow days are great when you can bundle the kids up and send them out to build a snowman or throw snowballs...but, it's just wet and slippery out there. We're all stuck inside.

Sunday, we were wearing shorts and flip flops...it was 78 degrees here! It was beautiful...now it's 32 degrees and miserable out there. No worries though...it's forecasted to be back in the 70's before the weekend is here!

Friggin CRAZY Texas weather!!!

Conspiracy Theory

You know those emails that ramble on and on about some poor kid dying of cancer, or some photo of clouds in the form of God's hand reaching from the heavens captured on film...or the one about the McPlayPlaces, you know, the rattlesnakes in the ball pit! Those emails that either tug at your heartstrings, piss you off royally, fill you with guilt, or make you want to move into a storm shelter and withdraw from society completely!

I got one of those emails today...maybe you've gotten it already. The one about the guards of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in Washington D.C. Have you seen it? It lists the duties and qualifications of the guards. It says that they can't drink or curse for the 2 years that they serve as guard and for the rest of their lives!!! Well, that puts me out of the running fo sho!!!

Anyway...it lists all these crazy facts about something which I know nothing about. So, initially...I believe every word of it. Then I realize that it might be one of THOSE emails, so I go directly to Snopes to check it out. I search for it...it pops up immediately...and while some of the not-so-shocking facts are true...most of the ones that were surprising, were completly made up. Like, the guard can drink and curse while they are off-duty! Whew, maybe there is a chance for me, after all!! So, after reading the explanation on Snopes...I feel much better...I feel like I have investigated this thoroughly and have sniffed out the truth!

After finding the truth...I'm always a little pissed. I wasted precious time researching this bullshit story! I mean...who sits around and comes up with this crap? Is it a global game of "Telephone"...where you sit in a circle, whisper something to your neighbor, then they pass it on...by the time it makes it all the way around...it's not AT ALL what you said to begin with!

But then,...I got to thinking again! What if the poeple at Snopes are just professional bull-shitters? What if they just pull this shit straight out their asses, put it on a plate, serve it with a beautiful garnish and I waltz in and eat it up! How do I know if what I read on Snopes is true? Is there a Snopes-type website for websites like Snopes?

Maybe it's all just a conspiracy...maybe the people at Snopes make these stupid stories up, just to support their own website. That's my theory...what do you think?

CONFIDENCE...it's what's for dinner!

For me, one of the biggest struggles in being a parent...besides carrying the little beasts inside my body for 9 months, besides being at their beckon call for months feeding their insatiable appetites, besides being puked on, pooped on and peed on more times than I can count and besides trying to figure out the best way to discipline temper tantrum throwing toddlers, feisty five year olds, and know it all nine year olds...ASIDE from all that, one of the biggest struggles for me has been my confidence in my own parenting skills. Dealing with the pressures and pains of constantly wondering:

Am I doing the right thing?
Is he/she going to hate me for this when they're older?
Am I causing psychological damage to my child?
Is someone going to call CPS on me?

I can't tell you how often I have laid in bed at night recounting the events of the day and second-guessing some of the decisions I'd made regarding the children. It has been really stressful at times. I've worried about it way too much.

Until now! I don't know what has changed...whether something in me has changed, or maybe something in them has changed...but, my confidence level regarding my parenting is at a comfortable level these days. Maybe it's because they're a little older and I see that The One Who Knows Everything seems just fine despite 9 years of living under my care. If I do say so myself...they're pretty good kids.

I'm sure that in about 7 years...I'll look back at this post and think, "Oh you silly, silly woman! You think you've survived trials and tribulations with 3 youngsters? Is that what you think...you dumbass? Did you forget that those sweet little angels would one day be teenagers? You haven't seen JACK SHIT about tough decisions as a parent until you've taught your kids about puberty, periods, boys, girls, mastrubation, college, sex, drugs, rock and roll, etc.... You silly, silly, DELUSIONAL woman!!!"

This is probably just the calm before the storm. But, hey...I might as well enjoy it, right? Because I'm sure I'm about to be in for one HELLUVA ride!!!

The One with Isabella Rossellini...

I'm sure you all remember the Friends episode where Ross has the list of celebrity "freebies," he's allowed to have sex without being considered infidelity. If you don't know what I'm talking about...then, I'm sorry...but, we can't be friends anymore!

The One and I are always saying, "Oh, they're on my list"...or, "No, they're not on my list anymore." So, to prevent any confusion in the event that I am propositioned by any of the following men...Honey, this is my OFFICIAL list!

#1 Hugh...The Doctor is IN!! -- damn, that can be construed as really dirty. I didn't mean it that way, I promise...but, hey...Whatever!!!

#2 Robert, I developed a crush on you in Chances Are when I was prepubescent...my feelings haven't changed. During those rough years...I even thought your mugshots were hot!

#3 Eddie...we don't even have to do it...I just want to hear you monologue!!!

#4 Paul...you know how I know you're hot?? Cuz you are!!!

#5 Vincent...baby...you're so money and you don't even know it!

There you have it...I'm even going to have it laminated!! Who's on your list?

I love your work!!!

The One Who Gets Away With Murder is really into Santa this year. His favorite movies right now are Elf and Fred Claus...he watches them over and over again.

He's questioning the process...A LOT. It's a sign that he's growing up and needs a little more info on how/why a fat man in fur is going to break into our house while we're sleeping, eat our food, then leave us presents..BUT if and only if, Jack minds his Mommy.

He asks repeatedly, "Is Santa going to deliver our presents, or will his brother, Fred, deliver them?"...and, "Mom, we don't have a chimney...how is Santa going to get in? Do we need to leave a key out?"...and, "Why do I have to WRITE Santa a letter? What if he doesn't get it? Can't I just call him and tell him what I want." So funny...at 5 years old, my kid has already developed a mistrust for the USPS!!

Since the boy is only in Pre-K and can't write, yet. I asked him to dictate his letter to me. It went like this...

Dear Santa,

I would like a bunch of Star Wars guys...lots of them. I want a Nintendo DS. I love video games and would like some more. That's all I need.

I love your work.
Jack

"I love your work!!!" How hilarious is that??? I mean...I get it...if I wrote a letter to Chris Martin or Judd Apatow...I would definitely say..."I'm a fan, I love your work."

My boy is a Santa fan!!! Soooo damn cute!

Christmas is gonna stink for me...

Oh man...I had forgotten that I introduced my children to this song last year. I made a Christmas CD for Lily and this was one of the songs on it. Well she LOVED it. I mean...who can blame her. Farts are funny, I don't care WHO you are!!!

She prides herself on knowing every single lyric to this song. The boys don't know the lyrics...they just make fart noises in time with the music! Silly boys, no musical appreciatiion what-so-ever!!! I try to give them a taste for the finer things in life, you know, the arts...and they just don't get it!

Anyway...this song is playing again nonstop...and I can't get it outta my head!!

Enjoy...and your welcome!!

!!!HALLELUJAH!!!

I FINALLY have a header that I'm happy with. If you frequent my blog...you've noticed that I've made it over a few thousand times in the past few weeks.

I was never happy with a prim and proper, frilly, and straight-laced header. It was soooo NOT me!

So...I worked on it yesterday and this is what I came up with!!

What'd'ya think???

Sweet nothings!!

Here's something that every woman wants to hear. We all just long and dream of the day that our husbands utter these words.

The scene: He and I getting comfy and cozy in bed...snuggling up, 'spoonin', if you will. I back up against him and he tenderly wraps his arm around me and this is what the love of my life says:

The One: "What is this?"...as he squeezes a fat roll...nice, right?

Me: "Shut-up...it's not mine"...denial, that's how I deal with things!

The One: "What? Are you 'fat-sitting' or something!?!"

Isn't that beautiful! Doesn't it just make you want to melt...but, right before you melt, doesn't it make you kinda want to punch him square in the nose, knock some teeth out, give him a black eye...maybe break his jaw just a little!!

Right after he said it...he realized his mistake. He knew what he'd done...and this is what he said:

The One: "Shit!!! You're gonna blog about this aren't you?!? I'm going to have a mob of angry women after me tomorrow!"

Me: "Oh, you silly, silly boy...I wouldn't worry about a mob of angry women if I were you...I would worry about one very angry woman with whom you share your bed!"

I would probably divorce him if he wasn't speaking the truth! His brutal honesty is both a blessing and a curse. He may not tell me what I want to hear...but, he'll tell me what I need to hear. I tell people all the time..."He's an ass-hole sometimes...but he is one CHARMING ass-hole!"

And...yes, dear...I'm MOST DEFINITELY going to blog about this!!!

Lancaster, Dear Lancaster....

Ran across this video today. This "performance" by a high school band at a half-time show. Can they really call themselves a band? There were very little instrumentals in the video.

They could call themselves a dance troupe maybe...or maybe "DJ Master Mike and the Marchers"...something like that...but, calling themselves a "band"...that's a far stretch!

Oh...I almost forgot to tell you the best part of this video! This is the high school I attended...my good ole alma mater! Can you believe that? I'm a ghetto girl!!! It's making sense now, right...the gangster Christmas card...we were just getting back to our roots.

Now sing the title of this post to the tune of "O Christmas Tree"...go ahead try it....Lancaster, Dear Lancaster...nice, right!?! That's the fight song the high school I attended. Well, it used to be, anyway. You saw the video...they might have changed the tune to Snoop Dogg's "Gin and Juice" by now!
Go Tigers!!!

WWJD????

I'm not religious...AT ALL! That's a-whole-nother post and I won't get into it now...but, even though I'm not religious, I know what Christmas is SUPPOSED to be about! So, 23 days before the celebration of the anniversary of the birth of Jesus Christ, I find myself wondering...What would Jesus want for his birthday?

Would he want my family financially strapped for the 8 weeks preceding the celebration of his birth while trying to buy gifts for a bunch of people who don't need shit?? I'm talking about Grandma, Aunt Sharon, myself and my own greedy little children! None of us NEED another pair of pajamas...none of us NEED another picture frame...none of us NEED a Wii Fit. Well, I could probably argue that point, because I have packed on a few pounds and I do NEED something to get my fat ass of the couch. Okay, I digress!!

We're already living on peanut butter, Ramen noodles and stretching out a whole frier chicken for as many meals as possible...I mean, we're running out of things to cut back on people!! Are you going to be the one to tell my innocent little children that we have to cut out Mom's happy pills this month so we can buy Aunt Mildred a stupid sweater with a penguin on it?? Huh...are you??? Because they all know what Mom is like without her happy pills...and they will tell you it's not good, not good AT ALL!!! Are you going to be the one to tell my sweet husband that we have to cancel the cable this month and he will miss the Cowboys and the Mavs games for the next 30 days in order to buy some relative that we only see once or twice a year a new scarf?? I would advise against it my friend!!!

I wonder...would Jesus want my husband and I...who normally NEVER, EVER fight...screaming at each other over the holiday custody arrangements of my nieces and nephews. Custody arrangements that have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with either of us.

Would Jesus want an innocent man to be trampled to DEATH because some pricks are in a race to buy their over-indulged little brats ANOTHER video game system for $20 less than it's MSRP??? Seriously...is that what he would want...a dead guy for his birthday...talk about a shitty gift!!! Like I said...I am far from religious...but, I'm thinking it's not what he had in mind!

Alright, I'll stop the ranting and the raving...I gotta run anyway. I gotta do a little more online shopping and make a run to the storage shed I had to rent to hide ALL the gifts I got for my children!!!!

Confessions...

!!!DISCLAIMER!!!
This post is gross. It is childish and mean and...just GROSS!



Here's a picture from my past that I ran across the other day...I have carefully concealed the identity of the perpetrator of this...this...this foul act! Look at the picture...study it...see if you can figure it out what god-awful thing my friends and I were up to. Now...while reading the rest of this post...please keep in mind that we were about 16 when this picture was taken. Okay...that really doesn't make it any better...16 is too old to be doing "crap"...no pun intended...like this. Here goes....

It was about 1993 and I had just started dating a guy who had very recently broken up with his long-time girlfriend. She was pissed...so was her mother. Her mother worked at the school...she was the drill team sponsor/study hall lady...I don't know...some kind of teacher. Anyway...these chicks were pissed and they made life hell for me and my friends. Her mother was slightly LESS mature than we were at the time...so, she was always in our business and talking about me and my friends, spreading rumors, etc....

My friends and I came up with a plan...a mean and vindictive little plan to get them back. It started out innocent enough...then...well,it evolved...or, I should say it DEvolved!! We set out to toilet paper their house and the conversation went something like this:

SOMEONE: "we should write 'EAT SHIT' on their porch"
SOMEONE ELSE: "we should put dog shit on their porch"
SOMEONE ELSE: "we should stick a fork in dog shit and write 'EAT THIS'"
SOMEONE ELSE: "we don't have any dog shit"
SOMEONE ELSE: "here's a shoebox, let's shit in it and put it on their porch"
SOMEONE ELSE: "yeah, let's shit in the shoebox, stick a fork in it and write
'EAT THIS' with shaving cream on their porch!"
SOMEONE ELSE: "okay, who needs to shit?"

So, there you have it...our plan was conceived. We drove around to a dark alley and stood guard while one of my friends very awkwardly squatted and hovered over the shoe box and successfuly dumped in it. You have to believe me when I say, THAT IS NOT ME IN THE PHOTOGRAPH!!! After her bowels were emptied into the Keds box...we wouldn't let her back in the car with her box of excrement. So, our dear, brave, bowel moving friend ran beside the car, shit filled shoe box in one hand and toilet paper roll in the other...all the way to the house we were targeting.

I know what you're thinking...besides...OH MY GOD, THESE CHICKS ARE SICK. Girls don't do crap...another pun...like this. This is something boys do...which is why I wrote this post. When my friends and I tell this story...no one believes that we really did this. We made a pact that night to deny the shit...again with the pun...out of this. When rumors started flying the next day...we held strong out of loyalty and to be honest, embarrassment...and never broke our vow of silence.

UNTIL NOW!!!!

The Story of Us

This is the tale of how I met and fell in love with The One...

My husband is always bitchingI've noticed that during my blog-therapy sessions...I spend a lot of time throwing The One "under the bus."

Let me get this out of the way first before I begin one of the greatest stories of my life. Honey...Shmoopy...sweet, sweet Love of my Life...let this be both a rude awakening and a public apology. Rude awakening: DUDE...YOU'RE NOT PERFECT!! Public apology: I'm sorry I'm always "throwing you under the bus"...but, look on the bright side...at least I'm bitching on my blog and not in your ear!!

Let me take you back to 1991. I was 15 and have to tell this detail of our story from The One's point of view. He was in the 7-11 getting something to drink and I come in. He says that when he saw me, everyone disappeared...he says everything was in slow motion...he thought I was beautiful and...I don't want to say it was love at first sight, that's so cliche and isn't his style. Let's just say that he was "sprung!" In his words, "this moment in 7-11 is the clearest memory he has from his entire life." To this day, he still remembers what I was wearing and what I was buying at the store. He had to meet me.

He starts asking around to find out who this amazingly, incredibly, breath-takingly...alright, I'll stop...beautiful girl was. He finds out that I am a friend of one of his good friends' girlfriend. She starts talking to me telling me that this guy really wants to go out with me...yada, yada, yada. I see a picture of him and agree. So, we set up a double date.

We go on our date...to ride go carts and play big ball golf...and we clicked immediately. We talked ALL the time, but didn't go on a whole lot of dates because neither one of us could drive. We were together for most of the school year and the summer. I kinda fell in love with him...I don't think I really knew what it was then...I knew I liked him A LOT...but, I didn't know it was love. I was 15...I didn't know JACK SHIT!! Mom...if you're reading this...please look away...scroll down a little bit and just PLEASE...FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS SANE AND GOOD...skip this next sentence!!! That summer, he was my "first."

Silly high school stuff got in the way and after that summer we broke up. Okay, honey...I'll throw myself under the bus...I cheated on him!! I'm sorry, love...how was I supposed to know that I didn't have to look anymore...how was I supposed to know that I had already met The One!!! I WAS FIFTEEN...just 5 years older than a 10 year old...just a rookie teenager!! We didn't have much to do with each other for the rest of our high school days. I tried to apologize because I couldn't quit thinking about him...for years I missed him. I went off to college and would still surprise myself missing him. I would have dreams about him and think about him randomly.

Now to April, 1996...the end of my first year in college. I came home for a weekend to hang out with old friends. We went to a concert in Dallas and bumped into some of the guys we went to high school with. This is the memory that is clearest in my mind from my entire life. Deep Blue Something was playing "Breakfast at Tiffany's" and in my mind...the record scratched, everything was silent and the world moved in slow motion. I saw The One at the back of his group of friends. We were in the middle of this huge crowd and everyone disappeared...I only saw him! Our eyes met and he looked at me in a way that I'll never forget. He raised his eyebrows, his eyes lit up, and smiled the sexiest smile...a smile that I had seen plenty of times, but had taken for granted! In that moment...barely 19 years old...I knew I would never take that smile for granted EVER, EVER again!! We began talking that night, and the next, and the next, and the next....

From there, we built the foundation of one of the most incredible relationships I've ever seen or even heard of. It was built out of admiration, honesty, communication, understanding, compassion, commitment, compromise, laughter, friendship, fidelity, respect, pillow-talk, and LOVE, LOVE, LOVE...more love than anyone can imagine! It is truly AMAZING what he and I have. This is not just my distorted view of reality, either. Ask anyone who knows us and they will all agree!

The One is my soul mate...we were built for each other...he is the LOVE OF MY LIFE!

He's my lobster!

I leave you with this...

I'm signing off for a few days. We're travelling to Memphis to see my bro and his family.

I hope you all have a wonderful, safe, and delicious holiday. My goal is to gain at least 5...but no more than 6 pounds while we're on holiday!!

Feeling the love!!

Alicia at Two B's And Me surprised me today with a wonderful award! So, thanks a ton, Alicia...thanks for spreading a little love for my blog!!

Let me tell you all my favorite thing about Alicia...she is my musical soul mate. Everytime I visit her blog...I jam to whatever song is on at the time. Her playlist must be huge, because I haven't heard the same song twice...and they are ALL wickedly awesome songs!!!

Want to hear something funny? When Alicia found my blog, she found my post about our son, Joey who passed away. When I was writing this letter to my son...a song kept popping into my head. I couldn't remember the name of the song, or the artist...I could only remember one lyric from the song..."God speed, little man." I was going to write that lyric at the end of my letter to my son...but couldn't remember the song...so, I didn't.

Anyway...fast forward a few days.... Alicia finds my blog through Kam at A Wrinkle in Time and finds my letter to my son and leaves a comment saying that my post, "touched her heart like I wouldn't believe." I link to her blog for the first time to check her out and leave her some love...and what song is playing on her playlist? No, not "Baby's Got Back"..."God Speed" by the Dixie Chicks is playing and my heart melted.

So, thanks again Alicia...the award is greatly appreciated!!

The qualifications to receive the award are:
A. Display a cheerful attitude.
B. Love one another.
C. Make mistakes.
D. Learn from others.
E. Be a positive contributor to the blog world.
F. Love life.
G. Love kids.

The Rules:
1. Must link it back to the creator
2. Post the rules
3. Choose 5 people to give it to
4. Recipients must fit the characteristics above
5. Create a post to share this
6. You must thank the winner

I'm passing this on to one blogger for now...and will add more a little later.

1. Gina at mommy's lost it. Ya'll visit her blog...she's got a great sense of humor, great stories, and a great blog! So, check her out!

The Story of Lily...

This is the tale of how The One Who Doesn't Say Much, came to be...

A few months after Avery's first birthday...I got the itch. My little boy was healthy and happy and getting more independent every day. I knew I wanted our kids close in age...so, I thought it would be a good time to start thinking about another one.

Jake didn't have any objections...he knew the drill and was completely on board. Lily...you are the only one I didn't have to "talk your father into!" So we decide to start "trying". Jake was thinking, "Sweet...months and months of sex...lots and lots of sex...sex, day in and day out...sex morning, noon, and night...more sex than any human can stand!"

Yeah...not so much. How about sex for two weeks, Lily was conceived...and I immediately started having morning sickness. So much so that I wouldn't let Jake near me for the next nine months. Part of the reason I wouldn't let him near me was the morning sickness...then it was the horrible gall bladder attacks I was having while pregnant...then it was the fact that I had a HUGE nine pound baby flipping and flopping between my lungs, my bowels and my bladder...oh yeah, and my extremely painful and inflamed gall bladder!!!

Lily's birth is one of my favorite memories. As long as I've known Jake...I've only seen him brought to tears twice. The first time being when Joey died, of course. The only other time I've seen him cry was when he was holding his baby girl for the first time. It was one of the many, many times I've fallen madly in love with him over the years!

We had our girl. Our precious, quiet, shy, loving, witty, strong, funny, smart, moody, tom-boyish, and oh, so beautiful little Lily Kate. My breath of fresh air in this wild, crazy, and extremely LOUD life with boys. Lily, you were conceived out of love, desire, confidence, contentment, and happiness...a house full of happiness!

Ya wanna know what I did last night??

I was at the Coldplay concert in Dallas...on a school night!!! Jake and I have wanted to see them for years and last night we finally did!

AMAZING SHOW!!! Chris Martin is friggin entertaining! He just flails around, running, jumping, rolling on the floor...all the while singing in one of the most incredible voices there is!

Me: "I wish I could feel music the way he does. I wish music just poured out of me and consumed me the way it does him."

The One: "It would pour out of you that way if 80,000 people were all screaming your name. It would pour out of you if every one of those 80,000 paid you somewhere between $100 and the price of a small car...to see it. It would pour out of you if you were sleeping with Gwenyth Paltrow every night!"

Me: "Yeah, you're probably right."

Ya wanna know the best thing about the show...besides the Platinum Parking pass we had, the VIP entrance, no lines, the Admiral level box seats in a suite at the AAC, and the amazing view we had of the show...it cost us $FREE.95! Yeah...you heard me right...FREE. The tickets were given to us by one of our good friends. We know a guy, who knows a guy! Can you believe that? I can't either!!

Ya wanna know how good of a friend this guy is...he gave us his tickets. He didn't even go to the concert...he said we would enjoy it more than he would. This guy is single and could've used these tickets to get himself laid every night for the next 2 years...but, instead, he gave them to us!!!

We had a blast!!!

The Story of Avery...

This is the tale of how The One Who Knows Everything came to be....

Late November, 1998. We had just lived through one of the worst days of our lives...we had survived the funeral of our first born son.

Jake and I had decided that we needed some time. We weren't exactly ready for parenthood when Joey came along. We were young...I was just 21 and Jake was 22. We decided that we needed to spend some time together, just he and I. Enjoy being newlyweds, travel, relax and regroup after the grueling year we'd had.

After the funeral, I slept for a week. When I say that...I mean it. I actually slept for a week straight. The days were so painful and I desperately tried to keep myself busy to keep my mind off of Joey. Keeping busy turned out to be nearly impossible. I was a stay-at-home mom...without my child.

The house was eerily quiet. There were no diapers to change...no bottles to warm...no cherub face to wake up to every morning. I mean...Jake is a handsome man...but cherub faced, he is not!!! It dawned on me one day...

The day that you become a mother...the day that precious bundle is placed in your arms...you tell yourself that you will be a mother forever. Until the day you die...you will mother this child. You do not allow yourself to even consider the thought of outliving this child...of losing the one who made you a mother.

I found myself, all of a sudden...not a mother anymore. It was sickening, sad and unnatural. I told Jake that I had to be a mom again. I couldn't wait...I couldn't busy myself with travel or a job. I could not "be" until I was a mother again. Jake could see the pain I was in and even though he really wanted to wait...he knew the maternal pull I was feeling was not to be ingored. Avery was conceived just 4 weeks after Joey died.

So, Avery...our smart, honest, LOUD, cautious, obedient, handsome Avery...our leader...the one who will do amazing things in his life...you were conceived out of longing and compassion...fear and sadness...but most of all, the undying love a mother has for her child. You resurrected me...you gave me hope and a reason to live.

Really? For me? Seriously? Aww...you shouldn't have!!

Not only is someone reading my blog...besides my husband who is legally contracted and my mother who is biologically required who both thoroughly enjoy reading it...ANYWAY...someone, namely Kameron at A Wrinkle in Time, actually LIKES my blog. In all honesty it's probably that Kameron is comforted by the fact that at least she's not as bad off as that poor lady over at "Life as we know it...." Thanks, Kam...it is so appreciated and thanks for always stopping by!

Ok, so I'm bucking the "rules" system...here's why...
Not because I don't think any blogs out there are fabulous, but the majority of the ones I read have already received this award! So, I'm in a way cool, way fabulous, totally awesome blogging circle!!

Hi! My name is Nikki and I'm addicted to...

1. Dr.Pepper...I know, I posted a little while back that I was saying so long to my dear friend...well, I promise I've only had one...alright, maybe two...definitely not more than a case of Dr.Pepper since that post! I'm still somewhat addicted...if they had a patch for Dr.Pepper...I'd be on it!

2. Wearing ear plugs to sleep. Don't freak out...I know what you're gonna say. My husband could sleep through a tornado and it's probably not very safe to tune the world out while I sleep. But, years of listening for the whimpers of hungry or sick babies has left me a very light sleeper. The One snores like a freight train and if I don't wear ear plugs...I toss and turn to every little sound. Besides...the kids know that I wear them...so, if they need me in the wee hours of the morn...they lovingly tap me on the forehead to wake me up!

3. Guitar Hero and/or Rockband. I friggin love that game. I fight with the kids about whose turn it is to play. Then when I do get a turn...I totally hog it and never let them back on. It's a little silly, I know...what can I say?

4. Teaching myself how to play the guitar...a real guitar, not a silly video game. This is a recent addiction. I've just started on this endeavor...but, once I start, it's really hard for me to stop. I get lost online searching for new lessons, easy songs, and scales to learn. It's a slow go...my fingertips are numb and have been for 2 weeks now. Will I ever feel them again?

5. Blogging.. It's ridiculous how much time I spend on here. It's actually embarrassing. Reading, writing and planning posts. Since I'm just starting out...I have so many stories about the kids that have happened in the past that I want to get down on paper to save for the kids one day. Besides therapy...I'm hoping that this blog will be fun for the kids to read when they're older. I'm sure they'll hate me for some of it...but I think I can live with that!

The Story of Jack...

This is the tale of how The One Who Gets Away With Murder came to be.

A little after Lily's 1st birthday in October, I started to get the itch...again. Jake knew the look and he knew it all too well. Something about that 1st birthday party always reminded me that the little one was growing up...it would trigger my arms to ache for the feeling of a cradled newborn in my arms...and even to start that crazy first year over again. No...I'm not a sadist...I just have a thing for those tiny little bundles who smile at everything, laugh until they cry and fall asleep wherever they are...as long as it's in their Mommy's arms.

So, the look...Jake responded with a booming, "HELL TO NIZ-O!" He adamently refused to have another baby. Our first born was a tragedy...we managed to have two healthy little boogers...and a boy and a girl, to boot. He was ready to fold his hand, cash in his chips, and head for the hills. I wasn't going to give in that easily...I had always wanted 3 kids...I had always wanted the choreographed chaos of a bigger family.

I decided that if Jake didn't want anymore children...then HE could take care of birth control. I had been on the pill since I was 16 and was tired of taking them everyday and was eager to see what I was like without the daily dose of hormones! Jake was not impressed with my idea. But...I told him that it was his turn.

So, to my surprise, he decided to call my bluff. He made an appointment for a consultation for a vasectomy. I went with him...I was not going to miss this. The doctor took us to the room where the procedure would be performed...now remember...we're talking about a little in-office procedure...NOT surgery. Not a surgery like the 3 cesarean sections that I endured to birth his 3 children! No scalpels slicing 6 inch incisions into his abdomen...no doctors thrusting their arms elbow deep into his belly...no nurse sitting on top of his chest trying to push a 9 pound baby down and out through a hole that seemed way too small...no catheters, no stool softeners, no bleeding, no staples, no sore nipples...none of it. Just a simple little ole procedure...a little snip-snip, if you will.

Now...I knew the look that came over Jake's face when he was hit with the cold sterility of the procedure room. He turned white as a sheet and started swallowing a little harder...clenched his knees together and his voice raised an octive, or two. He managed to set up an apointment for December 11th...then ran as fast as he could out of the office. I was starting to think he might go through with it.

Over the next few weeks, I threw in a few last ditch efforts to change his mind. Turns out...they either worked, or were never needed. Just 5 days before the scheduled procedure...Jake called and cancelled and came home with a big ole box of condoms! While some would see this as a man planning on using birth control...I saw this as a ray of hope. Anyone who's had sex with a man knows how bad he hates condoms...even if that thin sheath of latex is the only thing standing in the way of another mouth to feed.

I'll spare you these details...but one drunken night of passion and 7 days later...Jack was conceived! So, Jack...you are the product of compromise, negotiation, perseverance, stubborness, sacrifice, and unfortunately, an evil scheme plotted by your mother...your father's fear of needles...a few too many shots of Patron...your fathers disdain for condoms...oh, and, of course, the love that we share!

Doesn't matter which way you cut it...we got Jack...sweet, crazy, wild, fearless, funny, adorable, brown-curly locked, big blue-eyed, determined, strong-willed, so much fun to have around...Jack!! I can't imagine our lives without him!!!

The Reveal...

Oh Freud...you and your crazy ideas!!

I'm pretty confident that we are smack in the middle of the Oedipal stage with The One Who Gets Away With Murder. As weird as it is...it's comforting to know that it's pretty natural.

Jack will occasionally get in bed with us in the middle of the night since he's still terrified of the dark. Most of the time I deny him access and tell him to go back to his room, but every once in a while...he will sneak in unnoticed.

Last night I was putting him to bed and this is what the child says...

Me -- Hey kid...stay in your bed tonight...stay out of mine, okay?

Him -- Why?

Me -- Because...there isn't enough room for all of us in the bed.

Him -- There's only 3 of us in the bed...you, me, and Daddy.

Me -- I know...and that's one too many.

Him -- Well, we'll just tell Dad to leave.

Me -- No, son...Mommy's and Daddy's sleep in the same bed...and you sleep in your bed.

Him -- But...you're my honey!!

Soooo darn cute...with just a dash of creepy!

Father Time...you can kiss my a**!!!!

You think I'm going down that easy...well you thought wrong. You think you can just swoop in here all in the same year and jack with my eyesight and sprout gray sprigs of hair out of the top of my head...yeah you better check ya self, bro!!! You don't know me...you don't know who you're messing with. I'm gonna call a couple of hard, pipe-hitting brothers...they'll go to work on you with a pair of pliers and a blow torch. You hear me talkin', old timer?! I ain't through with you! By a damn sight. I'm gonna get medieval on yo' ass!

You talking to me?

Many moons ago, when The One Who Knows Everything (later referred to as TOWKE) was a wee lad...and I'm talking wee...like 18 months old, or so...he started calling me Nikki. I think most kids do it at some point when they're learning that you are other things to other people...and not only their mom. We would correct him and say, "No, not Nikki, Momma." Well that kinda took a wrong turn somewhere and before long TOWKE was calling me, "Nikki the Momma."

It always reminded me of that show Dinosaurs. Do ya'll remember that show? When the baby would say, "Not the Momma, not the Momma," and beat the dad over the head with something. Wow...thank God for reality television, right??!!??

I later joked that 'Nikki the Momma' would be my name if I was a gangster. Instead of Tony Curtains, or Jimmy The Ape...you know what I'm talking about. What would your gangster name be?

Ode to Jack, by Nikki B.

Oh, the places you'll pee...

Little boy, little boy
Where do you pee?
You pee outside.
Under the tree.

You pee in the grass.
You pee in the pool.
You pee at the field.
You pee at school.

You pee on the wall,
You pee on the floor.
You pee on the curtains.
And even the door.

You pee on your socks..
You pee on your shoes.
You pee as much
As a cow moos.

You pee on your brother.
You pee in your eye.
You pee without looking.
Oh, how I could cry.

Little boy, little boy
Where do you pee?
You pee all over.
You’ve peed on me.

Why do little boys pee EVERYWHERE? I'm not really concerned with the outdoor peeing, but the peeing that goes on in the bathroom is what makes me want to slit my wrists. When I clean the kids toilet...I have to scrub baseboards, as high on the walls as their penises can fire, the cabinets, wash shower curtains, clean the sides of the bathtub, the ENTIRE toilet, and anything else you can think of...it's probably soaked with urine, as well.

I picture him in there...initially having every intention of hitting the toilet...then I don't know, maybe he hears a noise...I picture him spinning 360 degrees...STILL PEEING...showering the entire bathroom with urine. You wanna know the cleanest spot in the bathroom? Inside the toilet!! I don't know if he's ever peed in there!!!

**UPDATE**I read the poem to Jack and he said..."Uh...how'd you know, mom?"

Jingle bells, shotgun shells...Robin laid an egg!

So, Christmas is coming and I'm excited. My favorite part of the holiday...besides spending time with family, of course...oh and besides the AMAZING food...well, we can't forget all the presents...that's a good part, too...

Okay...ONE of my MANY favorite things about the holiday is our holiday cards. Last night my husband and I came up with our idea for this years photo and I can't wait to do it.

Thought I'd share my holiday cards from the past 2 years.




Not meaning to brag...well, yeah, I am kinda meaning to brag...our holiday cards are somewhat famous around these parts.

A couple of examples for you...a couple of years ago a friend of ours invited us to a holiday party at his friends house. We had never met this new friend and didn't have plans, so we went. When we got there, and our Christmas card, "Happy Friggin Holidays", was on his mantle...on the mantle of a couple who we'd never met. He saw the card at our friends house and asked for a copy of it to display!

Another story...this past weekend while we're in Austin...we're sitting at a dive bar with our friend who we were visiting and in walks some friends of his. The guy comes up, Tucker introduces us to him and he says, "Where do I know you from?" We ramble about the places we've been and schools, etc..., to try to find something in common...then it hits him. He says, "Ooooh, I know...you guys are the one on the gangster Christmas card." We laugh, sign some autographs...and he was on his way.

Alright, my humility has returned...but still, cheesy kids and parents smiling in sweater vests, wear me out!!!

Take this bra and shove it...

i'm moving to austin and becoming a hippie!!!!

i've lived in texas all my life and this weekend i went to austin for the first time EVER!!! THIRTY ONE YEARS OLD a considerable number of years older than 21 and never been to austin!! can you believe that?

FRIGGIN LOVE THAT PLACE! they are my kinda people.

what i found most intriguing was that there is no economic status there and hardly gender. everyone is just the casual, laid back, hippie-type...who am i kidding...they ARE hippies. check this out:



but, we were at a music festival and i was people watching...thousands of people...and although everyone was so different and unique...they were all the same, in that, i couldn't tell if any one of them might be a CEO of a huge corporation just chillin for the weekend, or if he was a hobo about to panhandle. so as far as economic status...there was none...everyone was equal.

so many blue jeans and flip flops and no fuss, no makeup...hair just there...not all done up. so many times i had a hard time determining gender. for example...i was behind this couple while one of the bands was playing...he was this very thin, very feminine man...there with his girlfriend who was equal height and weight as him, and she had these huge man-hands. from behind i had no idea who they were...i had to look at them from the front to see if they were 2 gay men...2 lesbian women...or a heterosexual couple. not that it mattered...just curiousity

I FRIGGIN LOVED IT!!! everyone was equal...all there for a common purpose...to listen and appreciate a myriad of music!!

I'M MOVING THERE!!!

10 years ago today, I changed forever...

Dear Joey,

I will not go through the list of things that I should have done...or things that I could have done...or knowing what I know now, the things I would have done. For, there is no use in pondering the would've's and the could've's...they only bring pain.

I knew this day was different. I knew this time was not like the other times we thought we might lose you. I knew you were gone...a mother knows. The doctors and nurses tried to give us a little hope...they tried to tell us that there was a small chance. Our family, didn't even want to think it. They would say, "Nikki, you've seen him do this before and he makes it...he always pulls through." "Not this time," I'd say, "he can't make it this time."

I could see that you were tired. I could see that you didn't want or need to fight anymore. No one so small, and so fragile, yet so perfect in my eyes should have to fight that hard to breathe, to live.

I remember being alone in the room with you...the nurse who kept trying to point out little signs that might mean that you would be okay...had just left the room. I stood next to your bed, I was stroking your arm and do you remember what I said? I leaned in close to you and whispered, "You can go now...you don't have to fight for me anymore." It was the sweetest, simplest, purest, most sublime moment I'd experienced and continues to be to this day. Just a few hours later the tests confirmed what I already knew...a mother always knows.

You lived your life...all 10 months and 21 days of it...for others, from the beginning until the bittersweet end, you held on. Month after month, day after day, minute after minute you would fight for us...sharing your smiles and sharing your warmth. All those nights in the hospital rooms...the three of us talking, playing, laughing, and crying...you bonded your father and I together forever. We were so young and so naive, and you showed us what love is. I thank you for that, and when your brothers and sister are old enough to know the story...they will thank you, too.

You held on for her...you knew when she would need you. Your tiny, perfect little heart..the symbolic essence of who you are...it was so strong. Your other organs were beginning to fail...but, your heart beat on. Just as it does today. Ten years later, she is because of you. I know her family thanks you for that...and when she is older and has a better understanding...she will, too.



Thank you, son, I am a better person because of you.

I love you like crazy and miss you even more,
Mommy

Burning down the house...

WOW...don't you just love those phone calls you get from the school. When you see the number you kinda hope your child puked, or peed in their shoes, or broke their arm on the playground...because the alternative is...dum, dum, dum, dum...DISCIPLINARY ACTION.

I got a phone call today and unfortunately, the reason was the latter.

The One Who Gets Away With Murder, well...he damn near did!

His teacher informs me that Jack brought my zippo lighter to school. Remember my zippo...my gift from the Marlboro Man? You know, the one that is definitely NOT AT ALL childproof and lights very easily with just the slightest roll of the wheel...the one that is filled with toxic and highly flamable lighter fluid...the one that SHOULD UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES be left within a childs reach...Yeah...that one!

Do you know what could have happened with my zippo? My kid could've burned down the school...my kid could have caught his best friend, Joe's, socks on fire...MY KID COULD HAVE LOST MY LIGHTER!!!

While this is really atrocious...do you want to know what the first thing to cross my mind was? Thank GOD he didn't take something to school from the bottom drawer of my nightstand beside the bed...because THAT would've been bad!

Another good thing...I knew I was doing well in the Shittiest Mom of the Year race...well, I think we can all agree that after this...it's pretty much in the bag!

Did you feel that?

I'm hoping it was the winds of change that I was feeling yesterday!!!

I'll admit I had a huge problem with handing the reigns of our nation over to someone with the middle name, Hussein. That was my hangup. So much so that I didn't really follow the election...like I said before I considered it a big joke.

But, I made myself watch Obamas's acceptance speech Tuesday night and was quite impressed.

I don't care what color you are or what your religion...what happened here was amazing. Before the decision...I was losing a little faith in our country. I had lost a little pride in being an American. But, sitting in front of the tv watching the president elect speak for the first time...I have to say that I am very proud of our nation.

We've come a long way and there's no telling where we'll go from here. Go us!

Don't hold this against me...

I was at a friends house the other night and he whips out these classic country CD's...like this huge boxed set. The kind that some dear member of his family probably bought for the low, low price of $19.95...plus $6.95 shipping and handling. I bet they even got some Kinoki Detox Foot Pads thrown in for free!

So, I was taken back to my childhhood and the music I listened to with my family. At all of our family functions...Christmases, birthdays, summer-time barbecues...my Grandy-John and my Uncle would play the guitar while my aunt sang. They would sing those classic country songs...not Garth Brooks...no, I'm talking classic! I'm talking Willie, Waylon and the Boys!!!

By the power of Greyskull....I am the power!!!

Me: C'mon buddy, we have to run to the store.

Jack: But, I'm playing video games.

Me: There, I paused it, now let's go.

Jack: Oh man...now I'm gonna lose and it's gonna be over when we get back.

Me: No it won't...I paused it, it will be exactly where you left it.

Jack: How do you know?

Me: Because...I'm the Mom and I know things.

Jack: Because you're the Mom and you're the Master.

Me: Yes, son...because I am the Master of the Universe...say it.

Jack: (quizzically) Mom is the Master of the Universe??"

Me: Good job...now buckle up!



Brought back so many memories of my brother pinning me to the ground and telling me that he wouldn't let me up until I said, "You are the master." He would say, "Who is the master?"...I would say, "You are." He would say, "Say, Rusty is the Master." I would say, "Rusty is a scumbag." He would then threaten my life and start tickling me while I was being held down...which is my kryptonite! Finally, I would fold and say it, "Rusty, you are the Master."He would let me go....for the time being, anyway!

No wonder I'm so claustrophobic!!!

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

The bedtime routine has always been tough.

I remember how tiring it used to be teaching a newborn about the difference between day and night. I remember how wild it was trying to wind a toddler down at the end of the day. I remember when Avery was new to a big boy bed and would get up over and over again to try to get out of sleeping...sometimes I would return him to his room 20 times in one night! I remember doing this all at the same time...all in one night...nursing Jack as a newborn, singing Lily to sleep and talking Avery into sleeping for a little while...all at the SAME TIME. I look back at those days and wonder how I survived. But, I did and now my challenges are a little different.

This is our new bedtime routine...

The kids clear the table while Jake makes himself comfy on the couch. I begin cleaning the kitchen. Jake signs folders, checks homework and listens to Lily read...he does all of this whilst still firmly planted on said couch and with one eye on whatever ball game is on. Since half of his attention is on the ballgame and the other half is pretending to listen to Lily read...I am left screaming at the top of my lungs for the boys to get ready for bed...as I have to be heard over the running water since I'm washing dishes, the garbage disposal, the ballgame, Lily's reading and whatever commotion the boys are causing. Every 3 minutes...I scream at the boys which prompts Jake to echo my screams in order to keep up the charade that he is actually helping out! This goes on for about 25-30 minutes. Just about the time that I finish the kitchen, the chaos has crescendoed to an unbareable intensity and I'm ready to explode. Through clenched teeth and with an anger in my voice that would make the devil himself a little afraid...I shriek, "The beatings are about to begin!!!" The children scatter like roaches and the silence that ensues is golden...I bathe in it for a few minutes, then take a deep breath, then go in to finish the job.

When I walk into their rooms, the devil-lady is gone and their Mommy has returned. One at a time, I sit down with each of them. We chit chat for a few minutes, I talk about silly things with Lily, about her friends and what happended at school. Avery and I talk about things that he knows that I surely do not. Jack and I will sing songs and I rub his back. Before I kiss them goodnight, I always ask them..."Who's the best little boy/girl in the whole world?" They will say, "Me?", sometimes quizzically, sometimes they will rattle off a list of other boys and girls just to be silly, then they will smile and say, "I am." Then, I say, "Who's the luckiest Mommy in the whole world?"...to that they say, "You are." I kiss each of them on the bridge of their nose, which is my favorite place on each of their faces...and the day is done.

It's magical...my day goes from utter pandemonium to pure pleasure in a matter of minutes. I wouldn't change a second of it...not the screaming, not the chaos, not the fighting...none of it...for the reward at the end of the day is just too, too sweet!

Patience is NOT MY virtue...

Patience is something I really need to work on. I don't think I've ever been a patient person and I think it's really annoying...to me and to others.

I rush everything...I think that's why this nursing school thing is already such a challenge for me. I guess I don't have too many things that I've had to really wait for...or work really, really hard for. Wait...this makes me sound like a spoiled brat. I guess it makes me sound that way because I kinda am...UGHHHH...who wants to admit that!!!! Okay, you can't change what you don't acknowledge...so, Step 1...acknowledge that you're a spoiled, rottten, brat...CHECK!

In high school, I never had to study to make straight A's...it didn't work that way in college right out of high school, so I couldn't hack it. I was even really impatient when it came to getting married. Jake and I wanted to get married on the beach in Mexico, but we had to wait 2 weeks for a blood test and I didn't want to wait...part of it was timing because Joey was out of the hospital...but mostly, it was beacause I didn't want to wait 2 weeks...so we hopped a plane to Vegas and tied the knot.

I remember being horribly impatient when I was pregnant and I remember begging my doctor to deliver those kids just a few days earlier than he wanted. Hell...I won't even let Jack poop while we're out shopping or out to eat because he is a slow pooper and takes his sweet time and I don't have the patience to stand in the public restroom and wait for him. I'm probably doing serious psychological damage to the child by rushing his bowels the way I do!!!

So, it's settled...I'm going to get a jump on my New Year's Resolution this year and REALLY try to learn to be patient!

I'm concerned...

I'm not looking forward to Tuesday. I was kinda hoping Allen Funt was going to do a press release and yell..."Ha Ha Ha, America...we got you, you're all on Candid Camera!" But, I'm starting to think these nominees are for real!!!

I don't know much about politics, but I do know that this election seems like a HUGE CROCK!!!!

“I look at these people and can't quite believe that they exist. Are they professional actors? I wonder. Or are they simply laymen who want a lot of attention? To put them in perspective, I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. "Can I interest you in the chicken?" she asks. "Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it? To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked."

- Author David Sedaris, on undecided voters

Oh What a Night..

We had a blast...the kids ended up choosing a witch, an army man, and Darth Maul. The kids scored butt-loads of candy, but unfortunately, over 3/4 of it was poisoned, damaged, or questionable and had to be confiscated by Jake and I. That's our story and we're sticking to it!

This was the first year that we didn't trick-or-treat with all the kids. Lily had more important things to do. She was invited to a party and trick-or-treated with her friend Kody from school. She was so cute...took a shower, wanted to crimp and streak her hair, painted her nails....oh man...I'm not ready for all that. The little boy even called her to make sure she was coming...we better buckle our seatbelts!!!

Hope ya'll had fun...we sure did!

The Big Day...

These pics are from the festival on Wednesday night...I don't know what the kids will decide to be tonight. But, I do know it won't cost me a dime! WooHoooo!

First we have a basketball player (Ave's buddy down the street) and Avery the army man...



Next, the cutest witch ever who didn't want to mess up her rad red highlights with a silly witch hat...



Here's Lord Sidious from Star Wars...most people probably don't even know the guy, hell I don't..and we had to do lots of explaining at the carnival...but Jack instructed me on how to paint his face and when I found a pic online to check my work...Jack did a pretty good job.

The first one is Lord Sidious before the carnival, looking rather sinister...



This one is of Lord Sidious when we told him it was time to leave...still looking sinister, and now scaring the bejeezus out of me....little kids are creepy when they're mad, especially when made up to look like lords of the dark side...



Lastly, our little hot dog...funny, he has a sinister look, as well...the "you're gonna be so pissed when you find out where I'm going to pee" kind of sinister look. Nope..that's utter humiliation...



Ya'll have fun...I'm sure we will!!!