Self-control

I turned my Facebook page off last night when I got home from work after realizing I am on that thing far too often. I didn't realize how actually addicted I was to it until I compared it to my times as a smoker. And how eerily alike they both seemed to be. When I used to smoke, I would wake up, go to the bathroom, crab my coffee, turn some cartoons on for Dude, and go outside for a cigarette (or as lovingly refered to by my family on vacation one year...my vitamins). I would then make breakfast, feed Dude, clean up breakfast, grab a second cup of coffee, and reward myself for accomplishing those tasks with another cigarette. I would then shower, get dressed, and get ready for the day and OOOH, I did that so awesomely, time to go outside. OH now someone called me, time to go outside while I talk on the phone. I mean, I don't want to disturb anyone with my conversation now do I? I dusted the house, so before I vaccum, time to smoke. Seriously. That was what started my day off, and that is what I did after accomplishing anything. Now, sadly, my FB is the same way...except I can check that while still being with my children. Every morning while drinking my cup o' joe and watching the news, I check my FB. After taking Dude to school, check my FB. After cleaning the kitchen from breakfast and last nights dinner (if I worked there is usually something from it left for me), I'll check my FB. Before my shower, after my shower. Before lunch, after lunch. While on the phone. In the bathroom. Before work, after work...sometimes *GASP* at work. Seriously. It is an addiction, and one that won't give my children cancer if I use it in front of them. Now, to fully break a habit, it is proven you need 21 days of complete abstinence. According to that, I shouldn't log back in until October 7. Truthfully, I will probably log in WAY before that. I would love to not, but let's face it, it has become almost a way of life. I communicate with some people solely through Facebook.  I do really enjoy it (although I also thoroughly enjoyed smoking too). So, for now I am off. Tomorrow I might come back. Maybe I will surprise myself and stay off for a week, or two, or three. Who knows?

This one is kind of heavy...

*I'm not starting a debate here and I will not respond to one if it is started. This is my heart and my knowledge and no amount of arguing can change that.*


I feel the greatest destroyer of peace today is “Abortion”, because it is a war against the child… A direct killing of the innocent child, “Murder” by the mother herself… And if we can accept that a mother can kill even her own child, how can we tell other people not to kill one another? How do we persuade a woman not to have an abortion? As always, we must persuade her with love… And we remind ourselves that love means to be willing to give until it hurts… – Mother Teresa


I was 18 when I got pregnant. Thankfully it didn't happen sooner because Lord knows it could have, years sooner. But it happened. And it happened when I was 18. Literally fresh out of high school. The Dr. who informed me that yes, yes I was indeed going to have a baby, is the same woman who tried to convince me NOT to have that baby. Come to think of it, I don't even know if that woman was a Dr. or just a woman at the clinic. Regardless, she tried with all her might for me to abort the baby. Seriously. I actually left the room before she was finished talking because she was arguing the case that it would be easier just to have the procedure and go on with my life. No one would need to know. No big deal. Well, to me it was and IS a big deal. So big, that this "deal" now weighs in at 46lbs and is almost up to my shoulders. So big, that this "deal" calls me "Mommy" and has a baby brother. So big, that this "deal" has no idea that someone tried to convince me that he wasn't worth anything. Let me tell you, he is worth everything.
I remember that day like it was yesterday. It was horrible. It was gut wrenching. The words "Yes you are pregnant, but just barely", were a knife into my soul. I couldn't have a baby. I couldn't. I just started my life. I just graduated. I was just taking a year off and going to college. I just started making decent money.  Now, it was all ending. Those were the thoughts going through my head. I know the desperation of finding out you are pregnant when it is the absolute last thing you ever imagined for yourself. It is literally the end of your world.
I remember him calling his friend, as happy as could be, saying "SHE'S PREGNANT!!!!" and falling apart. I sat there sobbing in the front seat of the hunter green Civic. I remember having to tell my parents. We took dinner to their house and I was completely prepared to throw it at them, say "I'm pregnant" and run away as fast as possible. I remember how it really went, how the anger from my mom was devastating and the calmness from my dad was serene. I remember those first few months. The miscarriage of a twin. The finding out IT was a boy. The early labor. I remember it all. I can't remember all these details with my second, but this guy, I remember everything. I remember it all because someone tried to dismiss his life so quickly. To give me the easy out. Let me tell you, not much of his life has been easy for me or his dad. But he is a LIFE and he deserved his life, so we worked at it, and we worked hard, and we are giving him his LIFE.
Now I wonder, how can someone make their living by deciding who is WORTH it?? How can someone claim it isn't a life before a certain time when science PROVES it? He who denies that human life begins with conception does not need to contend with religion, but science. To deny this certainty of biology is not to express a lack of faith, but a lack of basic knowledge of human genetics, something that is even known by the general public.” ~ Ecuadorian Federation of Societies of Gynecology and Obstetrics, April 17, 2008
How can someone so easily dismiss a human being? How do you get that hard and calloused? I have seen the pain abortion has caused the women who have had them. I have hugged them and cried with them. Abortion isn't painless. It kills a baby and it kills part of it's mother. It robs so many, yet is so highly accepted. Simple morality dictates that unless and until someone can prove the unborn human is not alive, we must give it the benefit of the doubt and assume it is (alive). And, thus, it should be entitled to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” – Ronald Reagan 1982




This isn't about religion, this is about life. My son's life. A life that some woman tried to convince me wasn't worth anything. Thankfully, gratefully, I didn't listen.

I haven't written in awhile because I am just plain exhausted and can't think of anything. Honestly. The Bubs has been sick twice now since I wrote last (Roseola and now a bad cold). On the plus side, this is his first real cold since his surgery and his ears are completely fine! YAY! But molars are working their way up and in and that equals a constant waterfall from the nose and mouth along with the need to sneak in a bite of my arm/leg/shoulder/face whenever the opportunity presents itself. This behavior is 100% not tolerable and he knows it so he does it when I'm not looking. Like say, I'm reading a book in a pair of shorts. Or maybe carrying him up the stairs to bed. It's a shame Twilight is done filming they could have used him as one of the vampires (or bampires as Dude used to call them).
Last night, during one of Bubbie's nightly crying matches, the cat joined us in his room. Now, Bubs has only seen this cat about 5 times in his life because she only comes around when the kids (and dog) are in their respective beds asleep. So to have this tiny, furry, noise making thing come in his room was a big deal...especially to a Bubbie who didn't want to go back to sleep. It took some time and a few hundred Bubbie barks (all animals still currently bark), before he succumbed to the tylenol induced sleep that was enveloping his brain. After he was in bed, and it was pushing 12:30am, I started reminiscing of the days when Dude was small. When please was pweeze, thank you was tank too, and I love you was I lo u. It blows my mind how quickly the time went, how overnight mazagines became magazines, Blankie is no longer needed for a solid night sleep, and Sesame Street was replaced with Star Wars. I still remember at 4 years old being asked NOT to kiss him at soccer because people might see him. REALLY? I now have to get a hug and kiss before we turn the corner to school. Although, I truly enjoy Dude and all his intricacies, like saying Thank you to the waitress in Japanese when we went out to dinner, I would really like him to slow down a bit. I miss the sweetness of complete and sheer innocence. So, while Bubbie is keeping me pretty exhausted 80% of the time, I look at Dude and realize how quickly this stage of life goes, and try and relish it.


*Coundown to vacation... T-33 day!!!!

It's Gotta Be....

Give me rules,

I will break them.

Show me lines,

I will cross them.

I need more than

A truth to believe.

I need a truth that lives,

Moves and breathes,

To sweep me off my feet....

...Give me words,

I'll misuse them.

Obligations,

I'll misplace them.

'Cause all religion

Ever made of me,

Was just a sinner

With a stone tied to my feet.

It never set me free, it's gotta be,

More like falling in love,

Than something to believe in.

More like losing my heart,

Than giving my allegiance.

Caught up, called out,

Come take a look at me now.

It's like I'm falling,

It's like I'm falling in love....

"More Like Falling in Love"~ Jason Gray

As I was driving home Monday night this song came on the radio and I just sat and digested the words that Jason Gray was belting out. And it hit me. HARD. Even though I know and believe it's grace that has set me free, I often (more times than I'd like to admit), TRY. If I DO this, than I am better. If I SAY this, I am stronger. I am more faithful. I am THAT much better. YES, I am just so GOOD.
Then, I fail. I epically fail. I am SOOO NOT GOOD. I am not stronger. I am NOT more faithful. I am PAINFULLY NOT good, stronger or faithful. I am "just a sinner with a stone tied to my feet".
Thankfully, gratefully, I have been given grace. I have not been required anything but to accept who HE is, acknowledge that I can't but HE can, and to take His love and give it freely .
The victim of the cross became the victor of the resurrection.
For that, I am eternally grateful.

8 years....

Eight years ago today, I met the person I was to spend my life with. 18 year old me never would have thought the night that we met, (which wasn't exactly the sweetest of meetings thanks to yours truly), that we would start dating the following week, get engaged two months later, and have a baby 10 months later. If someone would have told me that night that Homie was THE ONE I would have laughed in their face. And now...8 years later, he is my absolute best friend in the world. It was a rough start, a rough few years, rougher than any one can imagine, and yet, here we are 8 years later, going on 7 years of marriage. We can finish each others sentences, laugh at each others nonsense, tell each other (lovingly) to shut up when needed (ok so he needs to say it to me about 100x more than I ever need to say it), and we can just sit in silence and be content. One of the best pieces of advice that was given to me was from a man sitting at my parents dinner table, all gruff and rough, "No matter how broke you are, no matter how tired you are, no matter how busy you are, go on dates. Take an hour or two and just be alone. No kids. Just you and him. That's how it works." It took us 4 years to go on our first weekend alone and 7 years to go on our first REAL date. I wish I would have taken that advice sooner but thankful that I did. Now the only problem is, I would like to ditch the kids a little more often and be alone with the man. But that's a good problem to have. So, thank you Mr. "Goldman" for that piece of advice. It was a good nugget of information and I cherish it. Tonight we are going out to dinner to celebrate someone else, but secretly, he and I will be celebrating us and the divine intervention that has kept us together. I pray that in 8 more years, he will still be my best friend. After all, marriage is something you work at, everyday, because divorce is not an option and really, who wants to be married to someone they can't stand? That's not fun! If I'm going to be stuck with him, I might as well like him! :)

But we're gonna start by drinking old cheap bottles of wine

Sit talking up all night, saying things we haven't for awhile,

We're smiling but we're close to tears, even after all these years,

We just now got the feeling that we're meeting, for the first time.

Oh, these times are hard, yeah, they're making us crazy,

Don't give up on me baby.

"For The First Time" ~The Script

Everything is fine...

It has been a month to the day since I last posted, and a crazy month it has been. The only thing I can really say is, everything is fine. Bubbie's surgery went well and he is fine. The move went well with only needing to saw our box spring (thank you Friend for staying extra long and helping my homie with that), and our bed is now fine. The dog is fine. The cat is fine. The dog is terrified of the cat which is COMPLETELY fine. Work is fine. The kids, the husband, myself...all fine. Really. Nothing extraordinary. Nothing is exciting or awesome or amazing. Nothing is terrible either. Just fine. Which makes me wonder....when is the storm going to start??? I'm just waiting for something beautiful.

In your ocean, I'm ankle deep,

I feel the waves crashin' on my feet.

It's like I know where I need to be,

But I can't figure out, yeah I can't figure out,

Just how much air I will need to breathe,

When your tide rushes over me.

There's only one way to figure out,

Will you let me drown, will you let me drown?

Hey now, this is my desire,

Consume me like a fire, 'cause I just want something beautful

To touch me, I know that I'm in reach,

'Cause I am down on my knees.

I'm waiting for something beautiful,

Oh, something beautiful.

And the water is rising quick,

And for years I was scared of it.

We can't be sure when it will subside,

So I won't leave your side, no I can't leave your side.

Hey now, this is my desire,

Consume me like a fire, 'cause I just want something beautiful

To touch me, I know that I'm in reach,

'Cause I am down on my knees.

I'm waiting for somethng beautiful,

Oh, something beautiful.

In a daydream, I couldn't live like this.

I wouldn't stop until I found something beautiful.

When I wake up, I know I will have,

No, I still won't have what I need.

Oh, something beautiful.

"Something Beautiful"~NeedToBreathe

I need G.A....

Germaphobes Anonymous. Yes, that's right. I am a straight up Lysol wipe carrying-shopping cart disinfecting-germaphobe. At some point during the past year, probably around Bubbie's 4th or 5th ear infection, I became a Class-A germaphope. I can't stop myself. I find myself carrying a baggie with Lysol wipes in my purse so I am always prepared to disinfect whatever surface the Bubs is going to touch. This is the complete opposite of how I was with the Dude. You're kid has a cold? No sweat. That crusty highchair? Whatever, he is SITTING on it, he has a layer of clothing between him and the half-eaten cheerios. And that kid? Yeah, he got sick ONCE as a baby. He had bronchitis and a double ear infection at 11 months old. That was it. He did get the occasional cold but nothing else. He was a healthy child. It's even more mind boggling because he has an auto-immune disorder. So, wouldn't he have gotten sick all the time? Nope. But Bubbie. Ugh. He has been sick since he was 3 weeks old and was on the verge of RSV. I used to be one of those people who would snicker inside when I saw someone wiping down whatever surface their child would touch. I would think 'Lady, you're crazy. Build that child's immune system.' Oh dear sweet ignorance. This is my apology to that mother. That mother who has most likely spent countless hours with a sick baby. A baby that once didn't get disinfected every time he left the house but now needs to. I apologize for my nasty, superior 'tude toward you. I now realize the necessity of Lysol wipes and anti-bacterial hand gel.
This Friday, Bubbie is getting tubes in his ears. I am hoping that maybe, just maybe, I can lay off the Lysol and not worry so much about the tiniest cold. Until then, I would appreciate it if the local grocery stores will continue a well-stocked disinfectant aisle.

Moving....

We are officially in the throes of moving. We are only moving about 11 miles away and yet, I am completely exhausted. Not that I am doing any hard labor. I am doing all the "business" aspects...securing the truck, the permits, informing utilities to stop/start billing us. (I'd just like to interject that it is completely ridiculous that you need a permit to move into a place and move out. Really? REALLY??) My husband has done ALL the packing except for my half of the closet. He is patching holes and touching up walls here, while ripping down wallpaper and painting there. Did I mention he is still getting up at 4:45am to go to work and taking care of the boys while I'm at work? Yeah, he's pretty amazing. The question that remains in my mind is, why am I the tired one? Why am I so exhausted? I have done nothing labor intensive. I have been going about my normal day to day life with the exception of walking around a box or two and NOT looking at the mess.

Today actually starts day 1 of getting Bubbie to nap in his Pack-and-Play. He hasn't done it since last September and didn't do it well then. I am trying to make him used to it now because he and his brother will be sleeping at my parents house the weekend of the move. Now, this little bubbie is not as flexible as his big brother was. He is more intense and just, well, intense. He lets you know HE is HERE (I don't know where he got that from) and if he wants a toy or attention, he has no qualms about smacking you to get that toy or attention. (We do not tolerate this behavior.) He is a sweet and loving little boy who wants it his way at all costs. (I've really never met anyone like him.*insert sarcasm*) His brother was not so high strung. He was more of a cuddler who would be deeply wounded every time he was told "No". So, while I am grateful of grandma's offer to take both boys from Friday afternoon until Sunday afternoon, I am terrified of the "We are NEVER doing THAT again". Which is why he is being trained to sleep in his Pack-and-Play. Hey, at least he will be well rested while beating up his brother at parent's house. :)

Woof Woof

Yesterday was a hard day. Past negatives were popping up all around me and I just couldn't shake the feeling of failure. Failures that shouldn't have a bearing on me anymore yet some times in the absolute silence of the day, they creep up from the darkest recess of my soul and grab at me.

Now today, I'm listening to the soundtrack of a 14 month old bark at pictures of a cat (all animals bark currently), and I realize, those failures are what brought me this little creature. Had I not made the mistakes, I wouldn't have the marriage I have today, the friends I have today, and this crazy little boy who thinks every animal barks and every toy with wheels is a car that says "rooooooom".

Grace is sufficient for me. And my husband and children are proof of that grace. Thank God for grace!

Well the past is playing with my head,
And failure knocks me down again.
I'm reminded of the wrong,
That I have said and done,
And that devil just won't let me forget.

In this life,
I know what I've been.
But here in your arms,
I know what I am.

I'm forgiven.

Yesterday was a waste of a day. Instead of relying on the One who can take them away, I fell deeper. Not anymore. Because while I was focusing on the PAST, I wasn't living the PRESENT. So today, I will live in today. Not yesterday, not 5 years ago, but today. Not tomorrow, not next week, not 5 years from now. Just today.

Teach me to number my days,

And count every moment,

Before it slips away.

Take all the colors,

Before they fade to gray.

I don't want to miss,

Even just a second more of this.

It happens in a blink.

It happens in a flash.
It happens in the time it took to look back.

I try to hold on tight,

But theres no stopping time.

What is it I've done with me life?

It happens in a blink.

When it's all said and done,

No one remembers how far we have run.

The only thing that matters,

Is how we have loved.

New Year, New You

I hate New Years. I hate the resolutions. I hate the staying up to watch a giant ball drop, just to say it's a new day, a new year, new hope, new, new, new. I hate it. Mostly because I buy into every year, and every year I disappoint myself. I make resolutions only to have them broken in a matter of days and then beat myself up for breaking them. So instead of ridiculous resolutions, I am making goals for myself this year. I realize I will not change over night. Or will I? After all, it's a new year and I'm not going to be cranky no matter how little sleep I got, right? Sure, then it's 3am, I have been asleep for 2 and a half hours and hear a blood curdling scream through the monitor. Then it's 7:20 and I have 40 more minutes to sleep and I hear "Mommy, let me show you this awesome lego comic that came with my Lego Star Wars magazine." Now, I haven't had my coffee yet and I hear "Hmmm, I could really go for some eggs right now." Combine the lack of solid sleep, the zero caffiene intake, and the wonderful horomones my Dr. has me on for the next couple of months and I am just a ball of joy aren't I?? RESOLUTION NUMBER 1, BROKEN. Not only is it broken, but it is destroyed before the new year could even start.
So this year, I decided not to make drastic changes over night but small little ones. And because I know you care so much, here they are.
1. I will not throw a fit (throwing covers, forcefully getting out of bed and opening the door and loudly proclaiming "Don't worry, I got it") when the baby wakes me up out of a deep sleep. Instead, I will calmly and quietly do it and if I truly am that exhausted, I will nicely ask the bed warmer next to me to please get him this time. And if I do throw a fit, I will apologize first thing in the morning.
2. I will read more and watch a little less TV. Because really, I don't know you personally Mario Lopez. You're baby is cute but come on, do I need to really know the details of your life? Probably not.
3. I will accept that I am human, I do make mistakes, I can't change yesterday, but can make today better.
4. And lastly, if I want that cookie, I'm going to eat it and not feel guilty.

These may seem juvenile, but they are my goals. They are not unattainable, ridiculous things that I am going to fail at over night. They are a work in progress, because I am a work in progress.