It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas! (PIC Heavy!)

Well, it is officially CHRISTMAS in my house. Just take a look through these pictures, and you will see just what I mean.

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.

A "Chew It Over With Twix" moment & A Special Memory.

You know kids. They are some of the most free-spirited, care-free people that you will ever meet in this old world.

And believe me when I say that I have three kids that certainly fit the bill. Primarily my youngest, Skyler, who will be turning six years old tomorrow *cries*.

Skyler had decided that last night, Dad's surprise trip to the McDonald's that has a play area was her "Birthday Dinner" (we each get to choose to eat where we wish to for our birthday). So be it. No biggie there.

As Skyler and I sat together in the two-person booth (by her request), while Bryce (her big brother) and Scott (my husband) sat at the table adjacent to us near the middle of the aisle, Skyler and I began a conversation that she started.

The very first thing out of my (soon to be) six year old's mouth is, "Mama, can I drive when I'm ten?". Quickly I replied that driving will not be a skill she will learn until she is sixteen, so she has another ten years to go. To which she stated that this time frame would take "forever".

But then without missing a beat, and with such a straight face, that she would be an awesome Poker player one day, Skyler suddenly blurts out, "Can I have a baby when I'm SIXTEEN?".

I swear that the crickets started chirping. And the look on my face I'm certain was beyond priceless. And in that brief moment, I honestly had the "chew it over with Twix" dude pop in my head with that freaking slogan.

After the shock of hearing that question, I (in what seemed like an eternity) suddenly shot back with, "No! Not until you are AT LEAST eighteen. That's the safety rule".

The gloomiest look came upon her face. And in the aftermath, I honestly had to bite my tongue as to be able to keep a straight face and not laugh manically at what just happened.

Well folks, it doesn't stop there, though. Later on after getting home, I decided to lay on the couch with my (old school) Walkman listening to all kinds of different tunes.

I'd turned to one station where the DJ was talking live to a little boy of maybe ten to twelve years old that had called in with embarrassing stories. And boy dandy was it a good one!

He said that one evening, his mom and he were out doing some Christmas shopping, and in the midst of it all, stopped and bought a couple of Chocolate Ice Cream cones. Afterward, they got back on road along the Interstate.

Suddenly, she felt the urge to go to the bathroom. And I'm not talking tinkling here, people. This woman had to G-O! So, she pulls off the Interstate and goes to (of all places) Kroger (my husband works for the grocery chain).

The little boy says that after getting to the parking lot, his mother jumps out and makes a beeline for Kroger's front doors, only to turn right back around and get back in.

All she says to her son is...

"Too late".

Yes. Your assumption is correct. The woman crapped her pants. So they get back on the freeway and head the rest of the way home.

After listening to this hilarious story unfold, it suddenly sprang to mind of the time when I was about fourteen or fifteen, riding in the car with my dad. We were in fact on the way home from doing some errands. Suddenly, he had the urge to pass gas.

But he knew that if he were to do so, then there would be one hell of a mess to clean up. So, needless to say, being a man in true form, he held it in with all of his might.

But all the holding in the world, even at no more than five minutes away from our house, was going to do. Nope.

Instead, he unwillingly let one rip. And that was all that she wrote. And of course it HAD to be on a cold day where you don't want to roll the windows down.

Next thing I know, my dad is sitting in the driver's seat, squirming like a baby in a car carrier. Then the odor hits me like a slap in the face. I literally must have turned in to Kermit the Frog, because man did I feel ill. And hence, I had to freeze my ass off thanks to needing FRESH air.

I asked my father if he felt better. When I heard the word "no" I about wanted to smack him. That's when he let me know that sadly he didn't make it (at the two minute mark of almost being home). Next thing I know, I'm sitting there almost having an Asthma attack from laughing so hard, that I start crying streams of tears and trying my best to breath.

Every time that my dad asked me to stop, I would only laugh harder. When we got home, he rushed in and showered. I was the lucky sucker (and as my "punishment" according to him for laughing)that got to take his crap-filled, streaked undies (they just HAD TO BE tighty-whities that day) and pants out to the garage and prep them for washing.

To this day, once in a blue moon that memory will hit me and I will just burst out in laughter. Or it comes to me from hearing some other poor soul's tale of incontinence, like it did for me last night.

When my father is long gone, that will be one of the happiest, funniest and most embarrassing moments that I will cherish for the rest of my days. Right next to Skyler's outrageous baby question.

Pour Your Heart Out Wednesday w/Shell (Get out the tissues! It's a tear-jerker.)

It's Wednesday, and it's anything that YOU consider pouring your heart out about today, as well. There isn't ever a theme or topic that you have to blog about- it's completely a personal thing. If you wish to participate, please feel free to click on the POUR YOUR HEART OUT button above and you will get all the info on this carnival that you need.

Seeing what Angel is going through, with her mom having a heart attack and Angel's sheer will to be "the rock", had me going back through time. To twenty years ago in to my past (will be 21 in October).

To this day, I remember waking up to my dad yelling at my mom to "wake up" over and over at six in the morning, along with that loud banging noise he kept making on the coffee table beside her.

When I had gotten up and went to the living room, I saw my mother sitting there. But it wasn't her. By that time that damage was done and it was too late. She sat in the chair of her's for HOURS before the discovery by my father. She was in and out of conscientious, you had to yell at her for her to hear you, she wasn't able to speak or move one side of her body. Hours later, after she was taken to the hospital, I sat in her chair to get ready for the day, only to realized she lost her ability to hold urine, being I sat in pee that SOAKED the chair.

Later on in the day, I found out that my forty-three-year-old mother suffered a massive stroke and survived it.

To have to see her in the hospital, and then the Rehab/Nursing Home Center crushed me. I was only twelve years old at the time. Later in life, I did find out she tried to starve herself to death, being she didn't want to live that way. She felt like she was a burden to both myself and my father. Near the end she had to be trached (a tube placed in her throat to help her breath) thanks to the paralysis harming her lungs, as well as STILL near the end, battling lung infections.

For all the times that I went to see her, before leaving I always told her "see you later". And she was in the hospital for twenty-eight days (Rehab Center, actually).

But on that last Saturday, which was her last, full day of life, I told her, with no one else around that it was "okay to go home". I gave her the RIGHT to die. I gave her the PERMISSION she seeked from my father. When I did, I let her know we (Dad and I) would be okay and that I understood.

Under that, though, in my mind I could hear myself getting angry. I did NOT want her to leave me. Not yet. And I resented my father, who must not have cared (in my mind) enough to let her go and be in peace. Why ME? I was only twelve. A child. And I had to do some VERY grown-up things at that time of my life. Both with her in the hospitals and after her death.

What did she do to deserve her fate? And what did I do to have to live my life without my mother, and see her slowly rot away for a month, and could do NOTHING for her, but release her.

As I have gotten older, I have learned some valuable lessons. Starting back twenty years ago, as I loved my mother the best that I could for that last month, before I actually of all the times, on her last day of life said "good-bye, Mom", instead of "see you later".

1) Life will NEVER be fair to you.

2) We all will lose those that we love and cherish in this life. No way around that.

3) Be strong. But learn to let it go and stop being other's rocks, to take time for YOU.

4) We will always have "WHY?" moments. And not all of them will have an answer.

5) Yes, the pain of loss does go away. But NEVER, EVER completely. A piece of your heart will ALWAYS hurt and yearn.

6) Timing is not always on our side. Feel blessed when it is, and ask for courage and strength to walk through the fire when it isn't.

7) It's okay to be angry and/or sad. Even twenty years later.

8) Doctors are not God. They can only do so much. After that it's up to the patient and up to God what happens from there. There is nothing you can do about it.

9) Life's lemmons sometimes stay sour, no matter how much sugar you add. You still have to drink it.

10) Trials by fire don't ALWAYS leave you burned at the stake. Good can come from tragedy. Like a new lease on your life and three kids, with a wonderful husband to boot.

Perfection Perception... Fail.

Ya know what? I wasn't planning on writing on here at all today. I was going to jot some stuff tomorrow. But now, I HAVE TO SAY IT! You all know me well enough by now, that if I have it on my mind, I have to type it out.

Well, technically, I already did. Over at Momster.com. But I felt that I needed to bring it here too. It's a smallishly tweaked version of what I said over at the Fan Page for Momster.com over at Facebook. I tweaked it so that it has an overall umbrella addressing ALL parents, not just moms. Because, I have seen and heard fathers say the exact same thing.

So, without further ado...


I'm sorry but some parents are INSANE when it comes to grades..."Expects NOTHING less than an A"??? WOW! Talk about pressure. That is expecting WAAAY too much.

All three of my kids are advanced and I know that they have wonderful potential. But I REFUSE to say "you cannot earn LESS than an A". Your kids can't fill the void that (maybe) you lacked when it came to school grades.

And while they are smart, they CANNOT be perfect at EVERY single subject. It's unrealistic to think that.

I'm perfectly fine with a C or better. D is cause for concern and a talk. An F constitutes concern, the talk, and privileges taken until grades improve.

Parent's expectations HAVE TO BE within reason. Saying you only expects A's and nothing less is being in an imaginary world.

How would you all like it if (even though you have the potential) your parents told you that if you don't get all A's, all the time, that you would be in trouble. And think of the CONSTANT pressure and fear. Do you REALLY want that for your children?

Snow, school & sickness. What a combo!

It's been a ride, that's for sure.

My youngest, Skyler has been home since last Thursday, due to a severe Chest Cold. Then, on Friday, in came a nasty snow storm. That dumped about fourteen inches around our city. Some areas, mainly south of us got even more.

My oldest, Hayley was with her father for her visitation weekend. She called and let me know she was outside although she had been SICK! So I got on her for that and for not listening. Who knew? My ex-husband actually was being a parent for a change and putting his foot down. Only for her to do as he said NOT to anyways. That was going outside. So, we both jumped her for it.

Man, then along comes the Stomach Flu in to my home. And who did it strike? You guessed it. Kinda. It got a hold of me, as well as Scott. My poor husband came in at 5:30 in the morning, after working his last 3rd shift after two weeks of doing so. He was visibly shaking and had the severe chills. Plus the all-out fun diarrhea. Mine was mainly problems with vomiting.

Oh, and one of my kitties, Stinky is in the Animal Hospital. He has a Blocked Urinary Tract. I thought he got hit by a car or drank Antifreeze. He was so sick, I was ready to put him down. But then the doctor realized what was wrong and saved his life. Today, Stinky is still in the hospital with a catheter to drain his bladder. But he is moving around, eating and drinking well. He may even come home in the next couple of days.

Like I said, fun times!

Today, the kids are once again home, due to icy road conditions. My husband is at work this morning, back on day shift. And we are looking at another big system of snow and sleet to come back to our area on Friday. So, I'm hoping and praying that the kids get to go to school for at least ONE day this week. That would be tomorrow.

Don't get me wrong. I love my kids. I love spending time with them. And I love that we can all be together as a family. But they REALLY need to be in school. For their sake. And for mine. The City School System could have made it a two-hour delay, instead of no school at all. People are on the road this morning in full force. And no one seems to be having problems at this time...And it will be even better on the roads in an hour or two.

Sometimes, I wonder if the head-hanchos at Home Office do this as to just get more time off. I feel bad for the homes of children that have a 2-parent home where BOTH parents work to make ends meet. And those of single-parent homes. Both types of family dynamics cannot afford to stay home due to the kids being out of school for so long. Or to add extra days of having to pay the babysitter.

I'm one of the lucky ones in this respect. We are a one-income-provider family. I'm a Stay-At-Home Mom/Homemaker. My husband is the sole "bread winner" of the family. But, believe me when I say that all this "kids are staying home AGAIN due to weather conditions" is taking a mental-toll on me. They need to be with their friends in a classroom. The arguing, fighting, constant messiness and the dreaded all-day long "I'm hungry/thirsty" has GOT TO stop.

Soon I will be kicking them out the house and back on to the school bus before I know it. It just seems like it's so far away. *sigh*

Lil Miss Independent

Mile Stones. As parents, we all look for them around every corner. We get excited with their first words, their first steps, their first day of school. Then comes having their first kiss, and their first time behind the wheel of a car.

During all of those major points of "firsts" in their lives, you sit back and wonder where time had flown past to. The first child in a multi-child household leaves you the most at awe. Being that everything your child is experiencing as their journey is fresh and new, so is watching him or her doing it, being that your journey as a parent is also fresh and new (and that NEVER changes as time goes on).

In my home, there are three children. My oldest, Hayley is ten years old. My middle, Bryce is eight. And the youngest, Skyler is five years old. All of them have very different and unique personalities. And each of them are more "close" to me and my husband, Scott than the others. In fact I have a "mix" when it comes to that matter.

Bryce is a "Mama's Boy" all the way. Skyler, being the baby is "Daddy's Girl". And depending on the situation and what she wants, Hayley can go either way.

Back to childrens' independence. As I said, the first child is hard to watch accomplish those huge "life goals". But, so is watching the "baby" of the family. If not a bit harder than the first, or even the second (or more, depending on the number of kids in your home). But like everything else, it is a part of life. And they must learn to do things on their own, and to communicate to let us know their needs, to walk so that they can at some point get from A to B on their own (like walking to school).

Yes, it is Saturday. At least that is what I am thinking. Skyler has decided that she will pack lunch for SCHOOL today, to have it ready for school on Tuesday (no school Monday due to MLK Day). I had asked if she needed help....Her reply?

Nope! She is a "big girl" and can do it herself. And she made sure I knew this fact. True, it's more like some bagged snacks, not a real lunch (which Mama will fix up right on Tuesday morning). After already seeing her take her first steps, speaking her first word, going potty on her own, and even going off to school for the first time, I think that THIS MOMENT has actually "hurt" the most. Why?

Because not once did she need me to help her in ANY way. Not to get any of the foods for her. Not to help her open the sandwich baggie to place the foods in, or even seal the bags. And she placed everything in her lunchbox on her own.

Now, as of today, my Skyler-Boo is officially being deemed "Lil Miss Independent". And I couldn't be more proud. Because this is exactly what I am aiming for with all three of my kids. To be independent, honest, caring individuals. And so far, they have all proven (for the most part) to be such children.

Being independent is a key ingredient for a child. One day, they will have to be on their own. So, we must teach them now so that when they are grown individuals out in society, they will have the needed tools to thrive.