Does My Heart Good

I have to say that there are some moments that make up for all of the hard work and stress that come with being a parent. Here are some of mine:

Left: I know it is hard to see, but this is a picture of all of the kids sitting on the couch and reading. It is so reassuring to know that we have instilled some good life long habits in them!

Bottom: My baby is learning to be self sufficient! Okay, so I'm focusing on the positive. I know he's making a mess, but it is a learning experience! At least he's making healthy dietary choices.

Top Right: Aiden somehow managed to convince Trenton to be his "horse", so that he could be Woody. Trenton was being so sweet about it all!!

In Response

It dawned on me today, as I was reading the comments on my post about taking Lexapro, that many of my readers know a limited amount of information about me. I have many family members and friends that read on a daily basis, and know most of my background, and what this last year has entailed for me. But others who visit my blog, know only what I have allowed them to know. Which is okay if I only write about the funny events that take place in our home. But to write about something so personal as taking an antidepressant, and giving no history as to what exactly brought me to the point where I would have to make a decision like that, was really unfair of me.
Please do not think that my life has been full of tragic events. What I'm referring to when I say "history", is the last year or so of our lives. My last baby, as you know was an IUD baby. It perforated my uterus, and caused a complicated delivery, which ended in a C-section. That in itself is nothing spectacular, but it took a huge toll on my body, as I lost so much blood when my uterus ripped. If you've ever had a surgery and tried to take care of kids, you know how difficult it is on the body. Luckily I had family to help me for the first few weeks.
After the recovery, my husband and I decided that the time had come to sell our home. We knew that his spine fusion surgery was to take place in November, so we listed at the end of July, to allow enough time to move in. However, Murphy's Law prevails, and there were delays in the real estate process, which put our moving date only three weeks after Daniel's surgery. Which meant that I alone did the packing and moving arrangements. I also did the move supervision on the same day as the kids' last day of school. The moving company only did half of the move and charged us in excess of 2300 dollars. But that is another story...
Right after we moved, I got really ill. But the doctor told me that it was a virus. My kids were in three different schools, which meant loading and unloading kids 5 times a day, while being extremely sick. I would have to come home and have Marlie watch the kids so I could puke my guts out and try to pull myself together. I thought I was pregnant (which was almost impossible being that Daniel had a vasectomy), because I was nauseated all day long. Come to find out, the IUD had perforated my uterus and my rectal wall and was making me sick. I look back on that season of our lives and I marvel at how we made it through. It was God who kept me from having a nervous breakdown, I truly believe that. I was far from anybody who could be of help to me, and on top of it all , I was extremely home sick. The kids hated school, even Marlie, who has always loved it. They were also homesick, which made my sadness exponentially worse.
I told Daniel before bed one night that I didn't even want to wake up in the morning because I knew that I was going to be sick again, and I couldn't bare another day of sickness and stress. I felt like I was going to explode.
It has been a very difficult time for us this past year, and though things have improved some, we still have a long way to go. I know that life will never be smooth sailing. I also know that medication is like putting a band aid on a wound. It doesn't heal the wound, just covers it up. My intent is to use the Lexapro on a temporary basis, while I work on healing my wounds. Together, Daniel and I are finding ways to make life more manageable. We are doing it just as we've always done everything, as a team, trusting in God to lead us. I know that some may not agree with our choices, and that is fine with me. We have been through so much as a family, and have had so many people worry that we couldn't handle it all. But we are, and we are getting stronger, I believe. I am proud of how we have evolved. I am in awe of the things that my husband has been through and accomplished. I feel lucky every day that he chose me, and he feels the same.
God has not given us what He thinks we can handle...He has allowed us to choose our paths, and then lovingly carried us through when we bit off a little more than we could chew. He's blessed us with a wonderful family and supportive friends, who celebrate our great moments with us, and help us through the tough ones. I know that He is with us as we go through this season of our lives. I also know that the people who love us will do the same, because taking medication does not change my heart and who I am.

If you hit rock bottom and nobody else is around, does it still make a sound?

Our son, Aiden, has happily volunteered for the position of dog poop picker upper. Since the dog's poop is the size of tootsie rolls, I figured it would not be too big of a task for a 3 year old, with supervision, of course. I must say that I am impressed by his commitment to his new job. He scans the yard several times a day for fecal material. He even calls the pooper scooper, "my new best friend" (kind of disturbing, but he's only three.) In fact, every time someone announces a new found doggy deposit, Aiden strikes a super hero pose, and proclaims, "Don't worry, I'll get it with my new best friend."

So today, we were making our rounds together in the backyard. Since the piles are so small, one has to be careful where they step when performing such a search. Being that pooper scooper duty was one of my childhood jobs, I am used to the "look-before-you-step" method of making our rounds. But Aiden was intent on making me do it his way. "Mom! You have to bend down to look before you walk! Poops could be anywhere," he preached in his authoritative tone.

"Yeah, okay Aiden. I'm sure I'll be fine, thanks," I sarcastically retorted.

Sure enough, just as the words left my lips...squish! I stepped in a well camouflaged pile of doggie doo.

Aiden just looked at me, rolled his eyes and sighed, "You never listen to me."

Today, I got schooled by my toddler on the dangers of improper poop excavation protocol. I think I've hit rock bottom.

An hour later....

We are sitting in the living room, playing games, when Reed walks in munching on a dog turd that we apparently missed during our yard scan. Okay...now I've hit rock bottom.

Some Bumpy Roads Cannot Be Just Paved Over

I thought that the name of this post is all too appropriate since Daniel is in the paving business!!The little kids are all napping (a rare and much appreciated event,) and I am going to take the opportunity to write another post. It is nice to be able to just pen what is on my mind without worrying about substance or proper technique, like I face when writing the book. Anyway, I wanted to share something with you that has been difficult for me to talk about, but I feel needs to be addressed in order to help me in my recovery. A few posts ago, I wrote about my visit to the doctor's office, regarding my jaw problems. I have had a problem with TMJ since the birth of Trenton, and it has gotten progressively worse, with each passing year. It got so bad in August, that I could not even chew or even open my mouth very far.

It was a harsh reality for me to be informed that I was not handling my stress well. Apparently my stress manifests itself through my teeth clenching and grinding at night. The doctor recommended an antidepressant until my stress levels decrease, and I am able to cope better, (ummm, Hell has a better chance of freezing over first.) Anyway, his diagnosis hit me like a ton of bricks. The fact that the doctor wanted me to use chemicals to solve my problems, bigger problems than I thought I had, was making me doubt myself in every way possible. I questioned my ability to be a good mother to my children, I doubted my self worth as a wife, and I felt like an utter failure as a human. But, at the same time, I knew that what the doctor had said was accurate. My anxiety levels, on a daily basis, were higher than I had ever felt before. I was screaming at my kids as if they had committed a serious crime, when it was just a matter of picking up their socks, or something. The days seemed full of moments when I would feel like I was going to explode. I was crying every night, as I reflected on my horrible parenting that day. I pitied my children for having to endure the effects of my stress and unhappiness.

After much prayer and talking with my husband, I decided to start a trial basis of the doctor's recommended medication. I was so scared to become a chemically dependent person. I was so sure that it would make me think even less of myself by taking this kind of help. I had too much pride, I thought, to admit to needing help at all. But what really made me decide to try it was my children. They deserved to have a mommy that could cope. They deserved better than I was giving them. I wanted to enjoy being mom, without always trying to repress my constant anxiety and raging frustration. I had to admit to myself that I was not being the mom that I started out being. It was an extremely hard thing to admit to myself, just as it is hard to admit it to you. But if I cannot be completely honest about my life, then I am not giving an accurate picture of our family, am I?

So, I have been taking half of the minimum dose of Lexapro, everyday for six weeks now. Do I still struggle with my pride every time I reach for the bottle? Of course I do. I have to continue to pray about it. But I have seen changes in myself that are very reassuring. No, life has not become magically perfect. I still face challenges and stress everyday. I wouldn't want it to be completely easy. I believe that going through the tough moments is what makes me a better parent. I still fear the tough moments, but always appreciate them after. Now, I face each day, being better able to cope with the stress that I feel. My patience has increased, and I am enjoying my job again. I was driving home from morning drop off yesterday, and I was talking to God. I was thanking him for our blessings and asking him to help me through the winter up here, as I still get home sick. Suddenly, a wave of peace washed over me. I felt something that I have not felt in a long time...contentment about where I am. I am in a good place physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. It was a feeling that I think best compares to being held and rocked as a child.

As I've said before, I am not perfect. I am no closer to being a super-mom than Brittany Spears is to being on the cover of Parenting Magazine. Well, maybe a little closer than that, but you get the picture! I am hoping to not have to rely on the Lexapro for long, but only time will tell. My priority will always remain in being the best parent I can be, and sometimes that means being willing to push aside my pride and accepting a little help. Hopefully I will navigate this bumpy road, and look back with a sense of satisfaction at my decision, and the outcome.

You Messed With The Wrong Girl!

I am nervously praying not to receive a phone call from the school today. Every time it rings, my stomach turns with anxiety. Yesterday, a boy punched Marlie in the back. Even though it was dealt with by the staff, and the boy was punished, I am afraid that my son, Daniel, may try to retaliate. Let me explain why.
In our house, we have a rule about hitting girls. It is never permitted under any circumstance. Our sons know that if they hit their sisters, they face serious repercussions when Dad gets home. We do not condone hitting either gender, but our policy on females is one of no tolerance. We have also taught the boys that they are to respect and defend females in all circumstances, especially their sisters. Daniel, remembering what we taught him (I'm shocked,) warned the boy not to touch his sister again, or he would pay for it. When Dad got home, however, and Daniel told him what had happened, you could see the anger in Dad's face. "You did the right thing, son. But the next time that boy decides to lay a finger on your sister, you follow through with your promise," he schools. I'm reeling in shock. I was really expecting Dad to ask why he didn't pummel the boy in the first place. I knew that deep down, that is exactly what he wanted to say. I saw his teeth clenched, and the solemn tone in which he spoke, and I knew he was desperately trying to say the right thing. It was one of those true opportunistic teaching moments for Daniel, and I am so proud of how he handled the situation. It shows me that he has really mellowed out since we have had the kids, and taken a more peaceful stance with regards to human relations.
As for Daniel Jr., I am proud that he took the initiative to stand up for the sister that he fights with so often. It showed me that we did instill some small sense of family values and responsibility in him. However, I am also worried because he has an usual amount of strength for his age. It is the same physical strength that his dad has, I believe the Prescotts call it "retarded strength." Which, I think, means an innate toughness and strength that one would not expect from such a small package. It is what made Daniel Sr. such a great wrestler and athlete, and also what makes me worry so much about Daniel Jr. I know the day will come when Daniel Jr. will be pushed past his limit, and decide to let loose on someone, as all boys do at some point. But, as any mother would, I fear it deep within my heart. I just hope it is not today.

A Greater Appreciation

Last night, I sat down and read many of Boothe Farley's posts. I was exhausted and in need of a shower, but I could not bring myself to stop reading. What she and her family have suffered and continue to suffer, is heartbreaking. Her feelings of failure for not being able to conceive, and then losing the baby that she thought was the answer to her prayers, it all made me ache for her and her family. What a roller coaster they have all been through.

It made me think back to December of 2005, when I was pregnant with Reed. I was about 8 weeks pregnant, and angry with God. I could not fathom how it happened, and why He would allow it to. Didn't He know how I suffered from the many previous pregnancies? Couldn't He understand that I was trying hard not to lose my sanity with the six I already had? I was angry with the doctor for telling me that the IUD was even more effective than any other birth control method. Why was I the .1% that it was not effective for? I was angry at Daniel for not getting the vasectomy that he was scheduled to have. Did he not care that my body was falling apart? Why couldn't he accept some of the burden of trying to keep from getting pregnant? To put it simply, I was so full of anger that I couldn't even enjoy my favorite season. Christmas was one day away, and I could really give a crap.

The heaviness in my legs and bottom was unusually painful that evening of December 23rd. I was standing in the kitchen, making spaghetti. Occasionally, I would have to squat down because there was an aching that made my legs weak. The night wore on, and the aching continued as we got the kids ready for bed. I was silently cursing God, once again, for allowing my body to be impregnated and making me endure the anguish that comes with it. Suddenly, I felt a strange sensation. A gushing feeling much like a menstrual period. I knew that I was bleeding. In an instant, the doctor's warning of almost certain miscarriage, made my body turn cold. A indescribable fear flooded my mind and I collapsed on our bed. The life that I tried so hard to prevent and then so fervently cursed, was being taken from me. The guilt was too much to bear, and I cried harder than I had ever done before. The anger that I had been harboring against God, the doctor and Daniel, all became a raging self loathing. I wanted to slit my wrists for causing this little baby, so innocently formed in my womb, to be forced out. Had I not been so selfish in trying to prevent this baby, he would not be undeservedly ripped from his safe little sanctuary. I have never wanted a baby to live so much in my entire life. The anger then turned to a desperate longing to save my baby. There was not time to waste in being angry. I had to use that energy to pray, and I fervently prayed for forgiveness for the next four hours. Despite my innate knowledge that God does not bargain, I promised Him that I would never take my kids for granted again, never complain about being pregnant again, if He would only grant my request to keep this baby.

As you know, my prayers were answered, even as truly undeserving as I was. I know that thousands of very deserving women, do not get their requests granted. I still look back with disgust at my selfishness. I read Boothe's posts, and the guilt came crawling back into my gut, as it has so many other nights, as I watch Reed sleep, or enjoy the feel of his soft skin as I love him. I know that I did not deserve God's grace that December 25th, when the bleeding stopped. I know that I still do not deserve God's grace as he guides me through these difficult, yet amazing days as a mother of seven healthy, perfect children. None of us deserve His grace, and yet he gives it freely. He gave it to the Farley family when he allowed Copeland to be born and come home with them for a week. He gave it again as He relieved her of her suffering and took Copeland to heaven. I know that Boothe is feeling angry and far from grace right now, as she mourns her loss. But it is His grace that will pull her through, and I believe that it will allow her to conceive again, a physically perfect child.

Even though Boothe and I are on opposite sides of the spectrum, with regard to the ability to conceive, God's grace is still very evident in both of our lives. It is evident that His grace allowed Copeland's short life to touch many, many people. Her life served a great purpose, and eventhough it was very short, was not in vain. No life is ever in vain, whether it is born or not, wanted or not. Boothe's decision to share her journey has renewed my belief in life. I have a greater understanding that we need to cherish it, whether it is an answer to our prayers, or something that we may not feel equipped to handle.

An Angel Gets Her Wings

It is with both sorrow and joy that I inform you of sweet baby Copeland's passing. The Farley family may have lost their beautiful baby girl, but have touched thousands of hearts, mine included. I pray that they can find peace in the knowledge that she is no longer suffering and is with the Father. May they find solace in each other during this difficult time. May their memories of their precious time with Copeland, never fade. May the Lord bless them for their courage to let their baby girl live and also let her go. You are true and rare examples of what good parents really are. Peace be with you...

www.conorbootheandgirls.com

Here Goes...

I've decided to put my fears aside and do something out of my comfort zone. I'm going to start writing my first book. It is not the writing that scares me, rather the reception of my work. It so so frightening to put one's self out for public judgement and possible ridicule. But as my dear husband keeps reminding me, I have nothing to lose. Even if it is rejected by publishers or the public, I will still have something for my children to look back on, and laugh about.
I've already figured out my angle too. I know that there are a million books out there, authored by mothers. Most of them are stories that reflect on motherhood and provide insight on how to be a better mother. As much as I would like to write one like that, that's just not me. I think it is more realistic, in my case, to pen a book that lets other parents out there know that it is okay to be imperfect. I'd really like to make other parents feel better about those days when they feel like total failures, because I have a lot of those. I'd love to let them know that we are all learning as we go, and share my own mistakes and how I learned a lot of parenting lessons the hard way. I know that I am still at an early stage of parenting, but that is a good thing. I can start with my misconceptions and follies during the pregnancy and baby years. Then I can move on to a book about how to survive the toddler era. I figured that it can be a journey through each stage of childhood. But it will not be the average "How To Do It Right" book. It will definitely be a "How To Try Avoiding Disaster And Keep Sane Because There Really Is No Right Way", kind of book. Hopefully it will help those who have yet to go through the whole parenting experience, by letting them know what to really expect, besides the diaper changes and lack of sleep! Maybe it will provide those currently living through it, with a source of comfort or comic relief. I hope to include the experiences of my mother in law, as well. Lord knows that she has a few anecdotes and tricks of the trade to contribute! Jackie is an expert on how to tie your toddler to a tree when you are tired of him running away. I totally support her theory that it is not abuse, but prevention for some children!! I'd even like to include Daniel's parenting methods because he is a strong believer in the "hard knock" method, which can be frustrating but also makes for some funny situations. For instance, his dinner motto is: Eat it or wear it, (in the very literal sense). Do I think it is harsh? Yeah. Does it work? Yes, most of the time...unless the toddlers think it is funny and decide to follow suit and dinner turns into a huge beef stew bath.
The biggest thing I hope to convey to readers is this: my survival and occasional success, as a parent, all comes from the grace of God. He helps me learn from my failure, and gives me the ability to realize that I do suceed, even if it is some small trivial way. But more than anything, He gives me the strength to push through the disasterous moments and near death experiences that we encounter on a daily basis, and even allows me to see the comedy in them!
Of course, all of this will be written in greater detail, but you get the idea. I know that not all people have big families or kids that use their intelligence for evil, but I know that most can at least appreciate our situations to some degree. I really hope to paint an accurate picture of our nine lives, and that people will enjoy reading it, just as many of you have expressed about my blog entries. I would really appreciate your input, as to what you enjoy reading about the most and what you think I could do differently. Please feel free to be brutally honest, as it will greatly benefit the outcome of my endeavor. If you'd like, you can send your opinions to my email address instead of leaving it in the comment section: kadirprescott@hotmail.com
I'm sure I will periodically ask for help from you all, and I thank you, in advance for your thoughts! Here's to the first chapter of a new adventure, hopefully a successful one!!

A Little Reminder

Sometimes in life, we get so consumed by our own trials, that we fail to realize how much we have to thank God for. I have been so wrapped up in my own everyday stresses, that God saw fit to send me a little reminder that my woes are trivial compared to what others are suffering. The reminder came in the form of an email from my dear friend, Tanta Marie. It was a prayer request for the Farley family, living in Tennessee. The family just welcomed home a new daughter. But with their joy, comes much sorrow and anxiety. The baby, Copeland, has trisomy 18, a disorder that makes a fetus "incompatible with life." The baby was not expected to live through the gestational period, much less survive birth and life outside of the womb. But by the power of God, she has survived, if only for awhile. Her family must endure the hardship of both loving her and being willing to let her go when the time comes. I cannot even begin to imagine how painful that must be for them. I was absolutely humbled when reading the family's blog. It is exactly what I needed to put things back into perspective. I will be praying for Copeland and her family, and I am so thankful that they chose to share their story with the world. Please take a moment to read their blog, and share it with others. I promise that you'll be glad you did. God bless you, Farley family!

All's Well That Ends Well

Hear Ye, Hear Ye!!! I am proud parent today! Yes, it started out real crappy. Yes, it got worse before it got better. But the point is, it did get better. I am very pleased to announce that none of my children got their cards changed to a bad color (this is a rare occurence.) Phillip did not get into any altercations with his peers. All of my children got 100 percent on their spelling tests! But the best news, by far, was Trenton's progress report. It showed that Trenton has vastly improved his academic knowledge and application of such knowledge!! He is able to read, recognize numbers, add and subtract and has great homework habits!! I am in heaven, I tell you. Apparently, the money we spent on Sylvan paid off! Just knowing that he is thriving in first grade, makes my heart sing! Oh yeah, and I also got a killer donation from Weinersnitzel for our first parent club fundraiser!! Yeah baby, I'm on a roll :)

Sorry, I'm too tired to think of a clever title!

Ugh...Monday. I despise Mondays. Aiden wakes me up at 5 am, to get a Pull Up because he peed his pants. I really want to give him a lecture on why I try to tell him to wear a Pull Up at night, and why I spent an hour last night arguing with him about it, but I am not awake enough. Trenton comes in just before 5:30, because he fell asleep on the couch at 6 pm last night, and is no longer tired. I go to Daniel's room to wake him up and get his usual response, "NOOOOOOOOOOO! I'm still tired!" Next stop, Marlie's room. The puppy, who now sleeps with Marlie, is so excited to see me, she pees on Ella's bed. So now I have two sets of bedding to wash. Meanwhile, Marlie informes me that she now has the same mystery illness that has made Aiden so cranky for the last two days. Some mystery illness that involves very sore cheeks and mouth lesions. Go figure, time to call Doctor Perez.

Back to Daniel's room to force him out of bed. He's already up and complaining about his shorts. I toss his dirty jeans into the wash, and head to get the baby out of his crib. The baby is also awake because Trenton is yelling at Phillip for wearing his pajamas last night. The feud escalates and a fist fight breaks out. I separate the two and grab the baby out of the crib. He's wet, which means that the the Pampers company has failed me again, for the five thousandth time. That makes a total of three sets of bedding to wash now.

Time for breakfast. Everybody wants something different. It is already 6:15, and today is picture day, so we need to make time for hair styles. I throw some smoothie ingredients into the blender and pop in some toast. I am in desperate need of my morning coffee, so I start to pilfer through the freezer for coffee beans. Another fight has broken out over chips. They all want Cheetos for snack, but there aren't enough. Ella has already opened a bag and started eating them. Marlie and Aiden are now complaining that the smoothie hurts their cheeks. I make some oatmeal for them, and start packing lunches. Daniel throws a tantrum because I forgot that he wanted to take Cup Of Noodles to school today. I shove his sandwich back into the fridge, and start to boil the soup water. Reed has found Aiden's abandoned oatmeal and decides to eat it, then smear it all over his clean clothes. Well, now I know who will be the next to contract the mystery illness! It is now 6:40, and the kids need to be out the door at 7 am, sharp. Marlie is still not dressed. While I try to help her get ready, Phillip tries to make his own smoothie because mine was "gross." Unfortunately, he forgot the lid. After cleaning up the mess, I get his new clothes and hurry to help Marlie with her hair. I usually let her do it by herself, but not for picture day. Daniel starts another tantrum because he can't find his black shoes and will not wear the brown ones because they do not match. Daniel, the kid who could normally care less about matching, has become a fashion guru overnight? I don't get it, and I don't have time to argue. My dear husband finishes packing lunches and making coffee, while I try to tame Marlie's unruly tresses. We are still tying shoes and zipping up jackets as the kids get into the truck. I realize that Daniel's hair did not get styled. Oh well, I guess his messy hair will just serve as a constant reminder of his time management problem, because the picture will still be hung on the wall!

I return to the kitchen to pour my coffee. Ella is on the counter (her favorite place to be), drinking coffee creamer. The dog is under her, catching the overspill. Reed is on the table, pouring our glasses of smoothie and using it to finger paint. Phillip has turned Sesame Street on, and cranked the volume to the max, so he can actually hear it. Aiden is crying, again, that his cheeks hurt. I am about to join in his lamentation.

It is 7:05 in the morning and I am already so tired I want to go to bed.

Assuming Makes An Ass Out of ....Just Me

Yesterday was the first meeting for our parent club and school site council. I chose to take part in both because I think it is important to take part in the education of our children, and also I'm one of those moms who likes to have a say in what fundraisers we do. I'm so tired of those lame cookie dough sales. Personally, I buy my dough from Stater Bros., and it tastes just as good and is 1/4 of the cost. Anyway, so I volunteered for both and I'm so glad I did, because it reminded me of a very important lesson.

I have to admit that I had a small stereotype about the opposit sex. I was so cynical about having a male president of the parent club because I thought that a male just wouldn't do as good of a job. I don't have any reason for this absurd prejudice, it just peacefully existed in my mind, until yesterday. However, the president turned out to be a really great guy, who is not some bum who sits at home collecting welfare, as I feared, but owns his own business. He has been an active part in the parent club for a few years because he believes, as I do, that it is our duty to be involved. I feel so strongly about it because nothing irritates me more than when a parent complains incessantly, but does nothing to formulate a solution. If you're going to complain, at least be willing to be part of the solution. So, I ended up eating crow yesterday, and I am really glad I did. Other than the cackling hen mothers who wouldn't stop sharing their dumb ideas for fundraisers, it was a great meeting. (Sorry, I get easily annoyed by people who don't know when to shut up.)

The School Site Council was also really informative, and I'm so grateful to be on the board because I get to vote on how funds are allocated. The unfortunate thing is that the meetings are at 2pm, which means all of the kids have to go with me. So it was a huge chore to get things prepared for the meeting. I made sure that I packed snacks , wipes, homework, coloring books, crayons, diapers, books, and a port-a-crib. Packing was not the hard part, it was when we got out of the van and all the kids ran for the playground. I was left standing at the van, yelling for them to come and help me. To make matters worse, I was late because of the crowded pick up lane at the other school. So I looked really frazzled as I staggered into the library, carrying a purse, diaper bag, baby and playpen. Being that nobody else on the committee knows how many kids I have, they probably thought I was some unorganized nitwit who couldn't handle getting to a meeting on time and having a baby. In fact, I could almost read that very sentiment on one lady's face, as she grimaced in my general direction. I so badly wanted to explain that I had to get my 7 kids ready and unpack and then herd them all into a classroom and....oh well, that's what I get for being so assuming about the parent club president. I guess it really drove the lesson of the day home for me. Be careful in forming preconceived notions about people, because it hurts when it others form them about you.

Trenton, The Provider

This evening, while making dinner, Trenton ran into the kitchen yelling, "Mom, Reed got into my pet fly's food. " Thinking nothing of it, I continued cooking. A few minutes later, Trenton returned to the kitchen, a sense of great urgency in his voice, "Mom! Reed is making a mess with my pet fly's food! Come get him NOW!"

I gradually put down my spatula and went to see what was wrong. As I neared the boys' room, I could smell a familiar scent. A scent that I encounter many times a day. When I entered the room, I found Reed sitting on the floor, playing with a plastic box covered in poop.

"Trenton, what the heck is poop doing in your room?!", I'm yelling as I hastily make my way to the tub with stinky Reed.

"Mom, I told you already. I had to feed my pet fly, " he innocently explained.

"Where on earth did you get the poop?", I am still yelling from the bathroom.

"Where do ya think? I pooped it out!", he informs me.

"That is so gross, Trenton! That is dirty!", I continue.

"Mom, don't worry, I caught it in a baby wipe. It's not like I actually touched it!"

How do I stay mad at a boy who was genuinely trying to take care of his pet? Even if it was a very unconventional (and very disgusting) method of doing so.

There Really Is A Method To My Madness

My children think that I am the meanest mom ever! I never let them play out in the front yard alone. I never ever let them go anywhere without adult supervision. When I say adult supervision, I am referring to a family member or friend that I know very well and trust. I will absolutely not let them walk home from school. I even tried parking at the end of the school's street and letting them meet me there, but I got too panicked when they would take too long. So now I sit in the drive through line everyday, at two schools. I never let them out of my sight at the mall, and I make them all ride in or on the side of the grocery cart at the supermarket. I don't really care how stupid it looks, because it is too easy to lose one. They think I am some kind of control freak because I monitor the computer use and television, at all times. They are not allowed to use the chat features on ANY websites, including kids' sites. Yes, I'm sure some would call me an overprotective freak. Even my grandma thinks that I am too protective and paranoid because I will not let the kids stay at her house. She thinks that letting them have freedom is perfectly okay, and that they will be fine if left unsupervised for a minute or two.

Why am I ranting about this, you ask? This is why. This morning, Daniel called me to tell me about a Congressman who is busted for trying to hook up, via the internet, with a 5 year old girl. Yes, I said five years old!! His intent was to have sex with her. Luckily, the little girl was really an undercover police officer...this time. What a piece of crap that guy is and what a freakin sick world we live in. A world in which we cannot trust our own leaders to be upstanding citizens. A world where we cannot let our guards down for even a second without some sicko trying to prey upon our precious children. A world where we are not safe from all of the danger, even though we work so hard to educate our kids about these things. A world where trust is pretty much obsolete, because it is an invitation to be violated.

So yes, I am overprotective. I probably have them on a leash that is slightly taught. But it is not out of the need to be in complete control, because I know that my control is very limited. It is sheer necessity. I will try my damnedest while they are still in my care, to make sure that they are not violated in any way. I will fight to preserve their innocence for as long as I can, because it seems that innocence is a thing that is lost far too soon these days. My kids will not understand this until they are parents themselves, and that is okay with me. I remember asking my mom once, after I had been busted for lying to her about my whereabouts, "Why can't you just be my friend, like my other friends' moms?"

She looked at me like I was insane and replied, "It is not my job to be your friend. It is my job to be your parent, and keep you safe."

I had no idea what her problem was, and why she was so in my business and strict, back then. But now, I love her immensely for it. I respect her for trying so hard to keep us out of trouble and away from danger. It helps me to know that someday, my kids will know that I too was just doing it out of love.

Monday Madness

I have three different topics to share with you today:

1. Take a look at the picture of my bathroom counter, smeared with cover up and bronzer. Then look at the picture of Ella, with the cover up encrusted eye area. Amazingly, she claims to have nothing to do with the make up mess on my counter. Hmmmmmmm......somebody's pants are on FIRE!!!

2. School is doing wonders for my kids! In fact, the picture of Phillip passed out on the toilet was taken after school last week, as he was waiting for me to help him wipe his rear end. Yeah, school is really that exhausting!!

3. I just wanted to show you all my cute little fluff ball, Dakota. Isn't she cute. And her poop is about the size of a tootsie roll!! The scary thing is that Reed actually mistakes them for tootsie rolls, so I gotta stay on top of pooper scooper duty!

Happy Monday Everybody!

What Our Country Needs Most

On September 11th, I was scrolling through my email and looking at different blogs, noticing that most were in remembrance of the innocent victims and fallen heroes of the Twin Tower attacks. They were all very beautiful and served as a reminder that we are not fighting in vain. So why, if the majority of our nation still finds that event horrific and still mourns those lost souls, do we have so many people that speak against the war efforts and our president? Do they not see the big picture? Do they not realize that by withdrawing our troops we are basically giving the hidden terrorists the okay to freely resume their activities?

My Uncle Jim, who is in Afgha