Open Mouth, Insert Contraband

Dearest Lydia, 11 months? Really? Are you sure we didn't skip a month or two along the way?
Not only are you walking... but you're talking. Okay, okay, not so much in words that THE REST OF US would understand, but you hold ENTIRE conversations in your own form of jibber jabber. It's true.
And have you noticed something in all three of these pictures?
YOU DO NOT SHUT YOUR MOUTH! EVER!

Seriously. If you are not talking, you are screeching. And if you're not talking or screeching, you're silently finding trouble. Usually by shoving random foreign objects directly into your still open pie hole.

I'm certain, now, YOU are the reason I took two different EMT classes. I'm already thinking about taking a third class just to brush up on some of my skills. I have a feeling I'm going to need it.

The Voice, Not the Body

I am officially stalking Robert Pattinson, the Twilight vampire guy.

No, no. I don't think he's all kinds of sexy. The iridescent paleness of his character just doesn't do it for me.

But did you know that the dude can sing? No? Nor did I.

You see, I was busy watching the first Twilight movie, to compare it to New Moon after Jer and I had a date to see it opening night, and I'm always caught by the song near the end of the movie. You know the one I'm talking about. The song that plays while the vampire guy sucks the venom out of the damsel's arm and the other vampires dance gaily around the fire?

Yep, that song.

Anyway, I was searching through the 'net to find out who sings it and if maybe there are more songs by this person that I enjoy. Turns out, none other then Mr. Pattinson, himself, sings the song. Which got me looking for more of his work. Hardly of which I could find. But, man, the few things that are out there I really like.

So now I'm stalking the dude via the internet. Not because he's hot, which, when you look at pics of him in a non creepy vampire way, uh, he's not quite as bad in the looks department as his current movie character depicts.

Which also leads me to wonder why the theater was packed with an entire gaggle of ladies my mother's age who were all swooning over him and Taylor Lautner's character. Creepy.

ANYHOW.

So now I'm stalking his music. Which, doesn't get me very far since he doesn't exactly record or play for large camera toting audiences.

I'm wondering if he picked the wrong career choice. He's definitely a better guitar player and singer of songs then he is a vampire. Though, maybe his new movie coming out next year will be a better representation of why he keeps getting hired for these acting gigs. Seriously. They showed the preview for his next movie, Remember Me, before New Moon on Friday night and, uh, I'd like to mark my calendar for March 12, 2010 as having a few hours reserved for me and a tub of popcorn at the local Regal Cinema.

Life's Ups and Downs

Life is hard, sometimes. Right now is one of those times.

For no rhyme or reason I'm in a funk. I know how it started, I just don't know how to end it.

There are these new friends of ours and we're in the "getting to know" stages of this friendship and what not. The husband of the couple is more often then not the one who takes his daughter to karate, and I'm usually the one who takes Kyra to karate. So we talk. Twice a week for a half hour.

Okay, well, it's more like he asks questions and I answer because if he didn't ask I wouldn't talk.

Damn shyness thing.

ANYWAY. So he's asking all the normal questions:
Where you from? The south.
What do you do? I stay at home.
Where's your family? Various points below the Mason Dixon Line.
What are your parents like? My mother is a recovering psycho. She's good now, though. Medication works wonders.
Your father? He's a dusch.
How many siblings do you have? Four. Two whole, two half.
What's the genders? One older brother, one younger sister, two smaller brothers.
How do you get along with them? The older one still likes to pick on me to the point of putting me in tears if he ever gets within 5 feet of me. But that doesn't happen all that often so, ya know. The sister is great. She was my best friend once. And then her husband got in the way of life. I miss her. A lot. The two little brothers, I really don't keep up with them like I should. But they're good kids.
How's the in-laws? The parents are fantastic. Good, good people. The sister dislikes me with the fiery spirit of 1,000 dragons hell bent on destroying the fair maiden who, apparently, totally tricked the kingdom's prince into running away with her and then blindsided him into marriage. The brother doesn't say much. Works for me. I never know what to say, anyway.

All questions for which I have the complete and utter inability to lie about, to anyone, when asked.

So he asked, I answered, I then I went home and sulked at how pitiful my life sounds even though I know that my life isn't pitiful and doesn't suck.

None the less, this has sent me searching through some of my old stuff from the end of my high school/first couple years of college stuff- a time that was very dark for me. I'm not sure why I'm looking into the past. I have been fine and dandy with repressing such thoughts and images. There was probably a reason I had all this stuff shoved into a couple shoe boxes and buried at the bottom of a Rubbermaid container.

But here I am, wondering what went wrong back then and why I'm still harboring those same feelings when I look back on the past.

I'm not the person I was in high school. I've gained confidence.

I'm not the same person I was in college. I've learned to not just be independent, but to also depend on others.

I'm happy. I'm optimistic. And, most of all, I love the life I have now.

So why is it when I look back on what was, that hole in my chest opens back up and sucks the life out of me? Its like I can't wrap my arms tight enough around my chest to hold myself together.

I don't know.

I'm not sure what's going on in my head.

It's late. I'm tired. And tomorrow I need to focus more on my life now and not my life then. Because, lets face it, depression isn't a good hue on anyone.

SO!

I found this quote I wrote down during those troubled times back then. It seems appropriate.

One day, in retrospect, the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful.
- Sigmund Freud

Things You've Missed

- I have read three out of the four Twilight Series books. Jer gave the first one away, but in 7 days I've managed to COMPLETELY neglect my children and read books 2, 3 and 4. Books 2 and 3 were read in a single day each. Book 4 took some effort. It started out good, got really crappy for a really long time and then finally ended with a great big bang that left me on the couch, ignoring my children all over again, today.

This week I have managed to forget to write an email back to a friend who was trying to nail down a play date, forgot Kyra had ice skating, didn't realize it was my sister's birthday today until it was too late to call her (Happy Birthday, G!) and remembered just a few minutes ago, after Kyra came in my room complaining that her ear hurts, that we had a doctor's appointment we missed on the 4th to recheck her last infection.

Yes, yes, I know. I'm a stellar parent.

My thought was the books were laced with Crack, however, according to our resident ex college student druggie dropout, Jer said that Crack is a speed drug, if the book were laced with crack I would have actually got off the couch and done some of the house hold chores and not neglected them so much. I guess now I need to Google a drug that renderes one helpless to do anything more then the basic childcare necessities.

- Lydia has perfected her walking abilities. It was probably due to all that down time she had, what, with a mother who's head is stuck in a book all day, she had nothing better to do then to practice her walk. No, no... I still don't have any footage on camera.

This must be where the second child syndrome begins.

- Kyra has lost her damned mind.

No, really. She has.

In fact, just today she proved it while we were at the mall playground. She was being rude and ugly to a girl who just wanted to play with her, a girl she so happily played with for the 20 minutes before her melt down occurred.

She played happily, then she abruptly started giving the girl dirty, glaring looks- eyes creased, chin down, hands on hips, death rays shot from her pupils- because the girl didn't want to climb through the tunnel. I called her over, told her she needed to sit next to me until she found her happy place again. She cried. I told her we were leaving. She stood up and with a blood curdling, tantrum trowing voice, screamed NOOOOOOOO! and proceeded to sit down on the floor and kick her feet on the ground.

My jaw drops, gaped mouth, even now.

I bent down, told her to get up and get her boots on now. Went to retrieve Lydia and heard another scream of NOOOOO! I DON'T WANT TO GOOOO! NOOOOOOOOOOO! WAAAAAAA!

I'm horrified. This is not my child.

I compose myself as I walk back to her and inform her that she had better get her boots on her feet before I leave her in the mall because Lydia and I are going home. She stands up, drops back down in the sitting positing and proceeds to kicking her feet again while she screams hysterically.

As I strap Lydia into the stroller, Kyra's hysterical cries make their way next do me. She screams through her tears that she doesn't know how to put her boots on. I resist the urge to strangle her. She must see that in my eyes because she suddenly puts her boots on all by herself, while still crying a pitifully fake, yet still quite loud, sob that seems to end just as quickly as it began.

We leave the mall in silence.

On the drive home I calmly talk to her about the way she handled herself and how she should have handled herself. I also inform her that she is grounded today. For the entire afternoon until she went to sleep, she stayed in her room, allowed out only for bathroom breaks and meal time.

And, yes, I find that last sentence a bit humorous to say when talking about a 4 year old.

I told her it was so she could find out what it was like to have no one want to play with her because she was being ugly. I told her it was so she could see that in order to have friends, she needed to lean how to play nicely, use kind words and remember how it is she is to compose herself when playing with others.

She may not understand all that I was trying to convey to her today, but she didn't enjoy staying in her room alone. Sure, she had a small selection of her toys and books but she didn't have anyone to talk to. I didn't answer her How do ducks fly? question. I dismissed her request that I fix one of the flaps on her toys. And when she called out that there was a bug in her room, her voice showing no real concern, just a need for attention, I told her to deal with it, no one wants to be around someone when they're being ugly and rude.

Tonight I put her to bed, gave her hugs and kisses, told her that tomorrow we would start over. We reviewed the wrongs of today, she offered her versions of how she could be nicer and she promised to try harder next time.

Tomorrow we will try anew. We'll hit the mall again, though not the play area. (mostly because, have you seen the children who show up after school hours and on weekends? No thank you, Kyra clearly gets her devious and defiant influences without without their help) Tomorrow, I hope Kyra finds her mind again, because, seriously?, who was that kid today?

There, now that you're all caught up, doesn't that make you feel like I haven't skipped out on you all for an entire week, again?

No? Well, I'm sorry. I'll try harder next time.

It's Because I'm A Liberal, Isn't It?

I haven't quite yet figured out why God hates me so.

I mean, first He gives me a perfectly happy, healthy and content baby but has me suffer a very scary case of postpartum depression.

Then He gave me a happy post baby mood to counteract the very cranky 'n colicky spitfire to entertain my days.

Next He decided it was about time to find the next Noah to get to work on that Arc when He had it rain for the ENTIRE summer- thus driving the dogs and Kyra insane which made me a little bit certifiable all over again.

And now? With this daylight savings business? Lydia is getting up REGULARLY at 4:45 in the morning. FOR THE DAY! And, He hasn't even given me the good sense to actually, you know, go to bed at any kind of decent hour knowing my smallest offspring was going to be bright and shiny LOOOONG before the sun.

It's official. God hates me. I think it has something to do with the fact that I find nothing wrong with Gays and Lesbians getting hitched.

Yep, that's totally the reason.

Halloween, Among Other Things

Why hello!!

No, no, I didn't forget you all. I was just, uh, being a bit neglectful. Sorry.

You'll be happy to know business is back to usual! Kinda.

You'll have to know that my writing isn't quite going to be up to par today. It's hard to get back into the swing of things when you haven't made a decent post in so long. Besides, being that everything is usually Jeremy's fault, I can totally blame the lack of quality in this post on him. He's snoring next to me... which distracts the delicate balance in my brain. Well, that and the fact that the girls were NOT SO FUN today. I think my brain might very well be shot.

So! The Land of the CornHuskers... about that... we'll have to come back to that post at a better time. Right now, it's the obligatory Halloween recap post.

(And a few other odds and ends)

Friday we carved pumpkins:

Kyra requested an "angry" pumpkin, Jer designed his very own kitty cat:
Our cast of characters was one bumble bee:
Who we first pissed off by strapping her into a wagon and then insisted she must wear her hat to keep her ears warm in the 40 + degree and raining downpour. She tolerated her costume for 45 minutes. Max. She was not amused.
Dorthy, on the other hand, had a blast for, uh, an hour. She and her witchy friend visited 11 houses before they decided no amount of candy was worth this hassle.
Dorthy was cold, wet and miserable. Hot chocolate and the shelter of home was all they desired.
So, in essence, we spent Halloween doing less trick or treating and more visiting and having a good time with friends.

Not all bad. I'm sure my hips will thank me later when I don't have Kyra's candy stash to dive into.

*********

Now, to get some things off my chest...

-The new Girls Next Door? Those girls, are DUMB. Like, they even give "dumb blonds" a bad name. These girls are the ones who were the models for the dumb blond jokes. Honestly? The show sucks. This girl here.... is NOT a fan.

-The new Sandra Bullock movie, The Blind Side, I absolutely want to go see. Who is willing to go come babysit my children so Jer and I can go watch a sweet and sappy movie? Anyone? I can not guarantee you that Lydia will not scream at you the entire time we're gone, but she's can be awfully pitiful when she squeezes out the crocodile tears.

-A movie I don't ever want to see again and I warn everyone I see NOT to go see? Where the Wild Things Are. Horrible, horrible movie. And absolutely NOT child appropriate. The previews splashed all over the TV does not do this movie justice.

The preview shows a relatively happy cast of characters playing and running a muck together. What you'll get is a boy acting out because his parents are divorced, his mother is dating again and his sister is acting like a teenager who doesn't want to hang out with her younger brother. He pouts, cries, bites his mother, runs away, runs a muck, pouts some more, comes home and is greeted with open arms by his mother who then rewards him with a hot supper and a piece of chocolate cake big enough to feed a 300lb man.

It he were my kid he'd get his ass handed to him and then we'd have an appointment made for some serious therapy sessions.

You'll need a prescription for antidepressants when you walk out of the theater. And you'll probably want to share some of your stash with the characters in the movie. It's plot is heavy, and not PG worthy. I'm not sure if PG-13 is even appropriate for this heavy, thought provoking and depressing storyline.

Just how do I go about asking Warner Brother's for my money back. Really, I want my money back on the grounds of false advertisement.

-Holy Daylight Savings Time, were my children not given the memo that Fall Back is no reason to act like abused and caged monkeys set free to roam Manhattan? They were so bad in church today that we contemplated leaving before we ever got through the second reading. By communion both girls were in tears. When we got to the car I questioned Jer whether or not Shock Therapy is allowed to treat horrid little children.

I'm hoping for a better day tomorrow.