Time Has Passed & It's Almost Time Again.. (Picture-filled post!)

Now you are probably sitting here, reading that title and wondering, "what in the world is this chick talking about with this wacky riddle?!".

On November 18th, my oldest of the three kids had turned twelve years old. Yes, she is one more year closer to the dreaded tag known as "teenager". All in all though, with her maturity level (both mentally, as well as physically) she is more like a fourteen year old.

I'm thirty-five. She is twelve. I am 100 pounds on the nose. She last weighed in at 98. I am five feet tall. She is too. I don't have a set of "boobage". She does.

Basically, if you were to ask her thoughts about all this "you're as tall as your Mama" talk, that may just be what she would do to me after snickering. Like she did in the doctor's office when he asked how old I was, when discussing reading glasses.

As for the second part of the answer to my awesome riddle-title...

The youngest of the three "angels" of mine will be turning seven years old on Monday. Hard to believe. Already, seven years have just up and flown past like a speeding NASCAR racer doing 250 on the inside stretch.

In many ways she is taking after her big sister. She looks up to her (especially being that Big Sissy is about a foot and a half or so taller than her lol) and severely misses her when my oldest has to go on bi-weekly visits with her biological father.

Both of my girls have shown me (albeit the hard way) just what all it had taken my parents to raise me. Raging hormones, attitudes, "Princess-tude".

And thank God, the oldest (who now wears makeup), puts it on and still looks natural, but accentuates her features. Especially those beautiful blue eyes of her's.

At the end of the day, no matter how old they get, and no matter how tall they grow, they will ALWAYS be the apple of their Daddy's eye. My husband may not be my oldest's biological father with not a shred of DNA shared between them, but she is HIS, and he will tell you that to your face.

The little one is so wrapped around her Dad's finger, it's not funny. Okay. It is. But geez! And I thought that I got away with "murder" as a kid. Wrong. I kind of wish I could do that "Freaky Friday" thing and trade places with her for about 24 hours and enjoy some of the (tons of) freedom that she gets.

This past Summer's trip to Richmond has been one of the best I think that we have enjoyed as a family. And now, with all three of my kids growing up, and inching ever so much closer to being teens and "big kids", I find myself reflecting more on the Summers past, when the kids were so innocent, that it never seemed like we as parents would have to deal with more than scraped knees and the occasional "she/he took my toy".

To those of you with "young" (as in under the age of eight years old), take my advice and heed it well. Cherish EVERY single moment with your child(ren). Relish in each hug and kiss (yes, even the open-mouthed baby ones!). Enjoy the fanciness of every tea party and doll playtime.

The young years fly by faster than a Santa Ana wind.

I'm On Hiatus, But... (WARNING! Language laced PYHO post!!)

It looks like I just HAVE TO join in on today's PYHO with Shell. All thanks to my Bloggy-Buddy, Holly, over at Holly's House (Not A Perfect Mom's Blog), where she talked about how people spout off with Diarrhea of the Mouth disease regarding her having four kids that are so close in age, with one being a child that has Downs Syndrome, and that she is also a STAY-AT-HOME Mom. I'm in the same boat, but with a different situation. We both have it involving kids. HER'S being a kid number thing. MINE is a kid vs. mom's age thing.

So, here is my Pour Your Heart Out (PYHO) post. If you wish to join in, just click on the button below and follow the directions..Oh! And please remember that this meme and those of us that participate do not wish to have negativity brought to our posts. For many of us, this may be our ONLY means of venting. So be nice, or shut your fingers off from commenting.



I am 34 years old. I am married. I have three children. Or at least that's what I have thought. I thought that I am to be considered an adult.

True, I have an eleven year old who is my weight and dang near my height. She is only off by about two inches to my five foot frame, which is pretty petite. I also still look fairly young to many of my peers.

My daughter has a brother who is only seventeen months her junior. Having them so close together in age, at times it honestly felt like I was raising twins. They have a little sister who is now six. My oldest was five years and ten days older than the littlest one.My son is about three and a half years older.

Over the years, I have had (officially) five pregnancies. In the end, I have three kids. You do the mathematical science.

Also, over the years, since having the kids, I have had (literally) countless occasions where I am out and about with all three kids where someone will stop me and ask "Are THOSE all YOUR kids?!". Of course, the two older ones turn around and start to snicker under their breath as I proceed to answer the dreaded comment. "Yes, they ARE ALL THREE indeed MY kids".

Which then (normally in the SAME conversation and in the same tone) comes the "How old ARE you??". I of course answer with "thirty-four" (or whatever age it's been in the past).

After that, it's like the idiot wishes to have a throw down match of wit and words, as if I am lying. "You CAN'T be thirty-four! You only look about seventeen!!", which is the better end of it. I once in a while get fourteen. Worst one of memory was when the oldest was eight months old, I was twenty-three and the dumb bitch ARGUED with me, saying there was NO way, and that I HAD TO BE twelve and BABYSITTING the kid.

I am SO sick of people ARGUING my age versus kid count ratio. Then look appalled when I tell them they are ALL THREE mine. Should I take my state-issued ID card, punch a hole in the corner and place a chain through it, then wear it like Military Dog Tags, with my information showing at all times?

People are SO damn rude. I get SO sick of hearing the above statements made TO MY FACE after answering their asinine questions. Especially when in reality, it's NONE of their business.

When someone is NICE enough to answer a question that in truth is just you being NOSY, here is some advice...

Take the answer to your STUPID question, shove it in your pocket, say something NICE back and then walk away and continue on with your day.

If you can't be cordial after asking such a personal thing to a STRANGER, then I suggest you say NOTHING at all, or shove it up your ass. Believe me, I am at the point in my life to say it too, if someone argues with me about my age and MY kids again in the future.

I CANNOT help it that I still look damn good (as in young-faced) for my age group. I don't smoke anymore. I rarely drink, and when I do, not excessively. I rarely, if ever wear makeup. And I eat fairly healthy.

And I also can't help it that my children (at least two of them, anyways) will be TALLER than I am. And I can't help it that one of them is basically already there. Blame her wonderful and attentive stupid piece of shit father sperm donor. He is six foot. I am five foot. Use your smarts and take it from there.

So take it from me, it's not fun to have to be FORCED to play "Twenty Questions" with people you don't even know, as you mind your own business, be it walking down the street, or walking around the store, and when you get TOO nosy, be ready to have it taken clean off.

Yeah. The Secret Is Finally Out.

I guess I can let this secret out. Even though a few "choice" friends may already know. Then again, maybe they don't.

No, it's not about my stalker like fascination with Nicolas Cage. That's already out in the open to the entire world most everyone.

But it is nearly along the same lines. See, I have been watching a Soap Opera of one kind or another since I was about nine years old. I would come in after school, my mom would be sitting there in the living room, watching Days Of Our Lives. Man! That was a great one back in the day (1980's).

After Mom died, I stopped watching Daytime Television (Soaps) for a good two or three years. Then, I started watching All My Children one summer, while off from school.

That show got REALLY good, and the characters were great! Especially three main guys. Edmund Grey. Trevor Dillon. And of course, Tad (The Cad) Martin.

At the same time, I was also getting in to the show One Life To Live. And there was one main character I had been "in to". That was Bo Buchanan.

Now you are probably sitting there, doing the math. Yes, I was an early to late-aged teenager back in the 1990's. And all these guys from AMC and from OLTL are AT LEAST oh, twenty years or more my senior.

And you are probably asking yourself why I didn't go for the teen guys or even the ones in their twenties (at that time).

The answer is simple. They did not appeal to me. Sure, I'm like any other girl. I love a hot, muscular body. But I want the personality, sensitivity and maturity to go with it. And none of those studs youngsters did it for me.

Even now, when I am approaching 34 29 years old, I will take Tad and Bo over Robert Ford and Ryan Lavery any day of the week.

Bo has the good guy quality. He is a hero and a stand-up guy. He is honest and forthright. He loves who he does with everything that he has and shows it.

Tad possesses uninhibited humor, loyalty to his friends and family and is the go-to guy when the chips are down.

If you put the qualities of those two men together, can you imagine the kind of man you could end up having? All I can say is WOW!

My ex-husband (Hayley's father) is sixteen years my senior. And after that train wreck, I decided to not have an "older gentleman" as a husband or a boyfriend again. Been there, done that, got burned.

Now, I am *not* saying that being in a relationship with an older man of more than five or six years than your age is ALWAYS asking for trouble. But I couldn't see myself if something happened (God forbid) to Scott (my current sucker husband) being with an older man like I was with my ex, again.

That is, unless it was Tad Martin or Bo Buchanan.

(*No copyright infringement intended. For entertainment purposes only.*)

Energy... I "had" it.

Sometimes, I will sit on our living room side porch outside. As I do, I will see the kids playing, running around and chasing one another.

And this is after a full day at school learning from their books, learning social skills and playing outside on the playground.

My children are normally on a school day up no later than 7:30 in the morning. They are on the go all day long at school. Then, they have to come home and change, do their homework and sometimes also do a couple of chores.

Still though, even after all of that, they manage to find the time and the energy to be active and energetic. And knowing them as well as I do, if one is slacking and not moving or talking much, then they have got to be sick with something.

This past week, since about Monday, it's been go here and there, do this and that for me. With barely any time for myself to sit and rest. In fact TODAY is my only real day "off" and not do a single thing. For the most part.

I've been readying for my oldest's upcoming birthday party (she turned 11 TODAY, but the party is Sunday), had gone on a trip with her class Tuesday, helped with a Staff Breakfast at school yesterday and then stayed for most of the day to help in the K class and with my weekly Art classes, being that I will be out of town with my son and his class tomorrow on another field trip.

Add in the get together for early Thanksgiving dinner with my FIL's side of the family and the party on Sunday, there's just no stopping or slowing down.

But it all caught up to me yesterday evening. I was so dead tired, that when I went to "snuggle" with my (soon to be) six year old (who's party will be the following Sunday) in bed, I fell asleep and was snoozing as soon as my head hit her pillow.

Now, I did get up about an hour later, thanks to her snoring. I moved in to MY bed downstairs and drifted right back off to sleep. And apparently, my husband let our other two children sleep on the Family Room couch downstairs. What a surprise to wake up to.

But it's safe to say that one, I went to be extremely early (which is highly unusual, and being it was 8:30). And two, I slept a good oh, ten hours almost straight. Neither of which I think I have honestly done in YEARS like that.

The more that I think of it, I have a feeling that in (less than) a week's time, I have given the Energizer Bunny a run for his moola. Although, I certainly now know, thanks to my body telling me so, I am not as young as I used to be and that age TRULY IS catching up to me. As is the arthritis and tendinitis in my knees.

Dear Lord! I *am* turning in to my father. (cries)

Hair, sleeping, and timing. It's all relevant.

How many times have you said to yourself that you are mad at YOU, because you had that rare chance to sleep in? Try having that conversation with yourself every stinking weekend!

Yep. Try as I may, I can never really (for the most part) sleep past 6:30 in the morning. Why?

Because (now) three out of seven days a week (used to be five out of seven), I was used to having my husband get up at 5:30 every work day to be on the clock at six. Hence, I would go back off to Dreamland, only to wake an hour later (okay, forty-five minutes...geez!).

Now his hours have changed and I'm scared to think that between his new, wacky schedule, and the kids that THINK that they run the roost, that I may end up pulling my (now even more gray) hair out. Now it's three days a week, be there at six. One day a week, at FOUR IN THE MORNING! And one day a week, it's the 1:30 to ten at night shift.

Speaking of grays. I have harbored new ill-willed feelings towards my hair. Folks, I am only thirty-three Yes! Thirty-three. And already, I have the hair color of a fifty-something. And these stupid, gray strands have finally brought upon me, the death match battle where my coloring it is concerned.

Now even the promise of 100% resistant gray coverage via my bottle of Nice N' Easy (**No commercializing, profiting, advertising is intended**) in  one of their Red shades is doing the trick, anymore.

Sadly, my once gray-free hair (before a second marriage and three kids) is being savagely over-ran with those gray "old-people-maker" warriors. And they are, I'm sorry to announce, winning the fight.

But!!!...Yes, there is a 'but' in this whole mess (besides my own butt)...I will not give up the fight for luxurious, gray-free, red (of some shade or another), multi-highlighted (three shade highlight formula coloring) hair. I will (one day) prevail and take a part of my youth back.

Other that all of that, it's been a pretty good week. And I hope that I have given you a few good chuckles to end out your week. Especially if this one has not been the kindest to you.

Until next time... Oh and if you are in to the Paranormal, ghosts, and hauntings, please feel free to also visit me at my NEW blog page, http://paranormel.blogspot.com/. So far, there is only one entry. But, soon  to be two, being that after this post is entered, I shall be writing in ParanorMel.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

The (Not So) Happy Birthday

Today is a day that was supposed to be "exciting" and full of wishes.

Today there was supposed to have a cake and candles.

Today there were supposed to be balloons and gifts.

Today was supposed to be your day...Your birthday.

Instead, I can only wish you a "Happy Birthday" in my heart. And remember the birthdays of past when you were here.

I'm only able to have you in my memory to hold on to.

You would have been 64 years young today, if that Stroke had not done its life-ending damage.

So Mom, for what it's worth, Happy Birthday. I love you.

Love,

Missy Mouse

Science Project....At the mall?! PI Mom is on the case!

Hmmm....I love how in motherhood, you have all these different rolls. Especially if you happen to be one that stays in the home to raise the family and be a Homemaker. Such as I am.

Who knew that one day, you would have to add another 'hat' to your already long list of "jobs that go with the territory of being a parent"?

As of today, I have put on a new hat. One I was hoping wouldn't be placed upon my head for at least oh... another maybe couple of years. Instead, it got slammed on my noggin this morning.

Now, we all know that girls love to go to the Mall. Even if they can't purchase a thing. Just being there is like a fly being mesmerised and drawn to that bug lamp light. It's inevitable. They will go to it, no matter the cost.

Well, I get this sudden "notice by word of mouth" that Hayley has to go to the mall TONIGHT to meet up with her little friends and do a Science Project.

***SCREEEEEECH!!*** Hit the brakes there!....

A SCIENCE project meeting....At the mall......With no PRIOR notice of said project or meeting via the teacher, or calls from the parent(s) who set it all up?

Hmmm.... Suddenly, I donned my 'Investigation Private Eye Mom' hat on top of my skull.

Then I drill her for information. Like where are they meeting within the mall, who is SUPPOSED to be there (as in her friends), what the Science Project is revolving. All the fun questions.

As I need and want answers to all of my "what the hell are you talking about?" questions, Hayley stammers, looks away in to thin air I'm thinking in the hopes that the answer will just appear before her eyes, and then stammers even more with each word she explains with.

All in all, I said I wanted names, parent's names, phone numbers and an explanation about this so-called Science Project that I didn't even know existed until now.

Begrudgingly, Hayley answered me and said she will be getting the phone numbers today. Personally, I think my daughter just wants to go to the mall. Not for a meeting about a Science Project either. She is only ten, people! I didn't see this coming for at least another couple of years.

Figures, her brain is catching up to the rest of her!! She is already big for her age, advanced in many school subjects, and mentally mature by about three years of her peers. Now, she is trying to outsmart me like a teenager!!

"You be 5 long, long, long, long days ago?!?!"

Yes, those are the words of my now-five-year-old daughter. Skyler turned five this past Saturday. She is no longer the "baby" that she once was. And her questions about life, the world around her, and what she is learning have become more prominent as of late.

Instead of Skyler asking "You were a little kid a long time ago?!", she decided to ask me about how I too was a little girl in what seems like ages ago in the fashion that is the title of this post.

If she had only added one or two "long's" to her sentence, I may have chuckled a bit more. Instead, my ever-so clever child decided to add a total of four of them to her question of my ancientness.


Man did it ever make me feel 'old'.... It's like reality finally smacked me in the face and told me to wake the hell up. I'm not getting any younger, that's for sure. And to be viewed as 'ancient' to a five year old is in all honesty, a bit intimidating.


Why didn't Skyler just go the extra mile and pull out a picture of Nefertiti and ask if it was me? Or ask if I was around when the Pyramids were built by those pesky aliens? 


It could have been worse. She could have asked me if I was around when the big, bad dinosaurs were roaming the earth. Now, THAT would have hurt....

Friday Fluff

It hit me like a ton of bricks. Literally out of the blue. Why, I have no idea.

When did my life start to speed up?! It's as if it is going a thousand miles an hour. And before long, my road will be ending.

Was it after my mom died and it was just me and Dad? That's when I had to "grow up" at the age of twelve and do many of the house chores that my mom would do. Including cooking and the laundry (which I still hate doing to this day!).

Maybe it was after having a first boyfriend. After all, all us girls think that we are the shnitz when we land a "man" in our teen years.

Or was it after a failed marriage? Boy was a I stupid then! I was so blind, Stevie Wonder could have seen what came, coming along like a train wreck waiting to happen....Oh wait! It WAS a train wreck!!

Holy smokes! I think I got it. I started to get old after having my kids. After all, they are always telling me I'm ancient and that Grandma is REAAAALY old.

In all honesty, it seems that once I hit twenty five, my age started to skyrocket. Every birthday now seems to come faster and faster. 

Hell, the last ten years have gone by so fast, it hit me in the face twice. Once with my oldest turning ten. Then, with my mind just racing about how my birthday has once again snuck up on me.

So, with all that in mind, I shall leave you all with the following....