Monday, April 30, 2007

This one's for Trudging!

Trudging, you told me not to trust that Elmo and you were right. I left the muppets alone on the back patio and look what I returned to. Muppets gettin freaky. AND, I'm not convinced Cookie's participation is voluntary.


3rd step prayer

I'm working on the third step today and it's a struggle for me. It's really gets in the way of what I want and I HATE not getting what I want.

It was a beautiful weekend and we celebrated Manther's birthday. This meant lawn mowing and housecleaning and shopping and cooking all scrunched into Saturday day so we could decorate and celebrate on Sunday. Of course, hubby was working both days so I was running around like crazy. I am getting used to this and I didn't mind. Also, I had to take 2 hours out of my day on Sunday to run materials to hubby's job site, but I didn't mind this, either. I could squeeze it in before the party and I was able to help him out. I really love my family, house, and home life and I like being able to throw myself into the weekends and get stuff done.

The weather was beautiful and the extended family came over for the party and the meal was yummy because Grandma helped cook it (I was running materials to the job site, remember?). Then, grandma (my mom) pulled me aside and told me that my dad got drunk, drove, and ran into their garage door. He didn't just hit it. He drove all the way to the middle of the garage before she ran out to stop him. His drinking is out of control and, if we don't get him into treatment, he's going to kill somebody. Mom's going to make some phone calls to determine what we can get him into and we're going to proceed with an intervention.

I don't want to do this. I just want it to go away. I just struggled through my husband's first couple years of sobriety and I'm not prepared to go through the drama with someone else. I want to fix up my house and have another baby and make more money and move to a nicer neighborhood and be Ward and Beverly Cleaver. Apparently, this is not what God had planned. I am praying and I am praying and trying to accept his will. It might be a while before I have peaceful and serene acceptance of this situation, but at least I am working that direction.

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Happy Birthday Manther!

Yesterday was Manther's second birthday. The celebration is on Sunday, but I had my own little celebration with her at home. I bought her a fake cell phone and the candy she picked out at the dollar store. Then, I put all my chores on the back burner and went outside and played with her all night. We had a fantastic time.

This is a picture of Manther watering our new tree in the back yard. She is watering it with a squirt bottle.This is a picture of Manther walking Cookie Monster and Elmo in the wagon. We saw two fire engines on this walk. One had sirens on.
This is a picture of Manther helping Cookie Monster touch the street lamp at the end of the street. Manther enjoys the texture and feel of objects and she likes to share this with her friends. Happy Birthday Big Girl!


Friday, April 27, 2007

I am an unfashionable hypocrite

Evidence for my hypocrisy was provided in the previous post. The unfashionable thing is a separate problem and should have been obvious to me much earlier in life. I am a nerd to the core and I have always known this. I have a sixth sense for picking the thing that is uncool and not trendy. SO, if I am poking fun at a new fashion trend, everyone should go out and get one because it is guaranteed to be a big hit. Last week, I made fun of a hairstyle and, inspired by my coworkers interpretation of what she saw at the mall, I called it 'skunk hair'. Well, L (the coworker) did a little research this week and guess what she found? It's SUPPOSED to look like a skunk . (read paragraph 3 in this link). I am really clueless when it comes to the cutting edge of anything. Case in point, I started blogging in December of this year and had really never heard of it before. As I quickly learned, blogging had been around for quite a while and I am definitely entering the crowd somewhere near the end. Oh well, if my misfit nerdiness has saves me from doing freaky things to me head, I guess I'm okay with it.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

I am a hypocrite

After all that bitching about yuppies spending money on their kids, guess what Manther is getting for her birthday. She has fallen in love with motorcycles and her daddy just can't say 'no'. This little thing is motorized (really unnecessary since she has boundless energy) and cost as much as cable and internet access for 1 month. Or one week of groceries. Or 1 month's cell phone bill. Or two weeks of gas. You get the picture. Ai-yai-yai. I was going to take a firm stand against it's purchase, but some of the moms I work with suggested I let hubby spoil Manther a bit. I just have to make certain this does not become a regular occurrence. That won't be too difficult. If it becomes a regular occurrence, we won't have a house or garage to store her beautiful gifts in.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Baby Shower Games

Okay, fellow female bloggers (or male if you're into this sort of thing), I need some help. Sis's baby shower is in 1 week. She has had so much chaos this pregnancy: bleeding, job loss (both her's and her hubby's), house sale, relocation, house purchase, and lots of stressful stuff. I want to make her shower really fun and I want some fun (and not too high maintenance) baby shower games to get the crowd laughing. Any ideas?

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

The screen door is not a trampoline

I am a fresh air fanatic and, for this reason, my patio screen door is very important to me. I love being able to throw open the windows and doors to rid the house of the stale bedroom and cooking odors that harbor in the corners without giving free entry to every bug in Michigan. Our house is a beat-up shack (all we could afford) that had been abused by the previous owners and the patio screen door had not escaped their destructive hand. The corner of the screen was ripped out and, although I had repeatedly tucked it back in with a butter knife, it had to be replaced.
I finally replaced it last weekend and it was a monstrous job. The door could not be popped out easily and I had to wedge and kick and eventually disassemble the surprisingly heavy beast to remove it. I have a hobble now because I punctured the top of my foot in the process. I spent over an hour on the back patio forcing the little gasket and screen in the tiny groove with (you guessed it) my butter knife. Manther learned some new words and also learned she can have all the candy she wants when mommy does house repairs. I forced the door back in and slammed it back and forth (punctured my hand) about 50 times until it jumped onto track. I nearly cried tears of relief and victory when it was back in place. The most amazing thing is that it actually looks pretty good. There weren't a lot of weird waves or bends in the screen. It looked smooth and almost professional.
Manther is fascinated with the new screen. It has good bounce and firmness and makes fine vertical trampoline. She bounces her hands off of it and rolls her face back and forth feeling the screen against her eyes, nose, and mouth. She's tried to climb it a few times and likes to throw her body against it. Yesterday, she started to take a running jump into it, but my screeching stopped her. She pretends to heed my begging and pleas, but returns to her fun screen door games as soon as I am not in the room. Since I work full time, I am 'not in the room' a lot. Today, I will try punishment and I will give her timeouts when she trounces on the screen door. It might prolong the life of the screen door, but I doubt it will save it.
I am working on accepting that the screen door is a luxury for those who don't have dogs and children. If I am able to see it as a 'visitor' rather than a 'permanent resident' in our household, I may actually be able to enjoy it's brief stay with us.

Monday, April 23, 2007


Spring finally showed itself this weekend. The list of housework and yard work was so long, that I barely visited my blog late last night. I definitely feel a sense of accomplishment and I have the aching bones that go along with this. I seeded the bare spots in the lawn and planted a little tree. I wanted to include a picture of it, but I ran out of time. Maybe later in the week. I also replaced the screen in my patio screen door (this is a terrible job), cleaned a bit of the house, mowed the lawn, laundry, grocery shopping, church, and a meeting. My child was left to raise herself most of the weekend with my racing around the house and my husband working 7 days, but the weather was nice and she didn't seem to mind very much. I did enough mothering to throw some Cheerios, cheese, and juice out on her picnic table every couple of hours and reapply the sunscreen. She sure was dirty when I finally brought her in. Yikes. I wonder if the neighbors noticed a filthy child wandering the back yard unattended for hours. Oh well, none of the authorities showed up so I guess it was okay.

The big news is that I got to go to a meeting this weekend. I am usually only allowed one a week because hubby's attendance is mandatory due to probation and someone does have to stay home with the little one. However, a girl I used to support was in treatment in our neighborhood and feeling a bit isolated, so I paid the buck for a babysitter and I went and supported her. It was wonderful to see her, although I wish it was under better circumstances. Her road trip was rough and she was feeling miserable. She had a few years sober, but went off of her meds (she's bipolar I think) and started with self-destructive behavior that ended with using. She kept telling me how homesick she was. She doesn't have a home to return to, but she desperately wants to return to her hometown and is waiting on a 3/4 house there. I can relate. She is from Ann Arbor. I got sober in Ann Arbor and have lived there half of my life. Ann Arbor is a decent size college town and, in my opinion, a great place to live. I have always considered it home. The level of diversity and culture has made it a really unique place on the map of Michigan. When you travel 20 minutes outside of Ann Arbor, the 'feel' of your environment changes dramatically. My husband and I bought a home outside of Ann Arbor and, although it is a nice neighborhood and a great place to raise a family, I have been homesick ever since my move. I am adjusting SLOWLY and I know I will feel comfortable as a suburban housewife eventually. My friend doesn't have to make the adjustment. She can return home after her brief stay in treatment and I reminded her of that. She appreciated the visit and I appreciated being able to sit and laugh with the treatment folks.

So, now back to work. I am trying to stay focused today so I can get the heck out of here and back into the sun before it leaves us. Happy blogging everyone!

Friday, April 20, 2007

A little game

Who can guess what these two unexpectedly similar objects are (don't look below and cheat)? If you guessed 1) the coat of a brown spotted skunk 2) a woman's hairstyle then you were right!
Everyone please forgive me here, but I am going to pick on the suburban wives with whom I coexist. I feel a bit guilty, but they're mean and that alleviates the guilt. Yes, the trend in the obnoxious, new money suburb that we moved to is to dye your hair funky red brown with chunks of blonde. This artificial look is best accompanied with overdone nails and overpriced shoes. Now, before anyone judges me too quickly, let me say that I do think funky hair is quite appropriate and attractive and when it is on a fun, funky person (see below). I know she is a cheerleader, but still likable.
However, when this look is on an IKEA-shopping, man-emasculating, must-flaunt-my-money housewife, it really loses it's funky fun appeal. It is about as appealing as the picture below.
Okay, I'm done with the rotten name calling. I would call my sponsor and make amends, but I don't feel bad about this yet. Maybe someday.

Thursday, April 19, 2007

Please believe me when I tell you this is bad behavior

Well, Manther and I had quite a morning. She was a brat extraodinaire at the daycare drop off. This drop off has been getting worse and worse over the past two months. Nothing external has changed. She has been in the same daycare since she was four months old and the caregivers are quite consistent. However, she has started hanging on me and refusing to remove her coat and insisting on a pacifier and (the straw that broke the camel's back) insisting on keeping her own stuffed animals with her.

I know to the unskilled observer this might look like separation anxiety and, initially, I thought that's what it was. I slowed down and was very gentle and took my time letting her warm up to the environment before I left. This was okay for a week or two, but every accommodation I made was met with a new stubborn action. I give an inch, Manther takes a mile. I believe she is manipulating the situation (yes I do believe a two year old can manipulate) and I am quite sick of it. The caregivers are looking sideways at me and I know they are wondering what the heck I am doing wrong. They keep saying, "She's so well behaved while she is here." Apparently, this is code for, "What sort of crappy parenting makes a kid act like that?" The truth is Manther always behaves for other people. She saves all her rebellion for me. The little darling.

Well, she pushed me to the edge this morning and I left angry with a flushed face. This will not happen again. No stuffed animals will accompany us to daycare even if that means I have to drag her into the car kicking and screaming. I intend to walk into the room, fill out the necessary paperwork, stick lunch in the fridge, give a quick kiss goodbye, and walk out the door again. She is welcome to sit in the middle of the room with her coat on and scream for the next 8 hours. As long as she works through it by thte time I show up to pick her up, I'm okay with it.

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Does not play well with others

This is a post so I can gripe about my job. I try not to post about my job because it is really great in a lot of ways, but sometimes it still gets me down. I am a scientist or, more accurately, research tech. I do experiments for people who have gotten some grant money from the government to do research. I love doing experiments in cell biology, molecular biology, and genetics and that is why I chose this field. There are many failed experiments and the low success rate can be frustrating, but I can work through this with occasional venting.

The more challenging part is the people (isn't this true for every job?). I believe that most scientists have an arrogant and antisocial attitude that stems from, well, being a nerd. All the little resentments that were built early in life as a social outcast turn sideways in adulthood and create a weird, defensive jerk. Is the jerk intelligent? Maybe. Does this intelligence compensate for the jerky behavior? Absolutely not, except maybe in the case of Albert Einstein. Do I belong to this club? You betcha, baby. I have very consciously tried to work on this with my personal inventory, but I still struggle with it.

Okay, what this is really about is cells. I grow cells for experiments, as many of my coworkers do. When the cells get contaminated, the finger pointing starts so we can properly lay blame on the incompetent who was the source of our woe. Although it is never said aloud, scientists believe that almost everything that goes wrong in the laboratory (and in life) is due to someone else's incompetence. I contaminated my own cells last week and, while I was frustrated by the loss of cells, I was also freaked out that I was going to contaminate someone else's cell line and get the incompetent finger pointed at me. So, I quickly announced the problem and spent the following days carefully finding the source (my media bottle) and obsessively cleaning all surfaces I could find. I started my cell lines again and they are fine. My coworker got contamination this morning. While she never stated that she thought I was responsible and she actually stated the opposite, I certainly feel like I am staring right at the tip of the incompetent finger.

I want to scream, "I didn't do it!', but maybe I did. Who really knows? Bacteria are tricky little bastards and it's really hard to get rid of all of them. It only takes one before you have a colony. There is no way to escape my psycho, paranoid head until I attend my meeting tonight. I will go and share this and someone else will relate their paranoid freak story and I will be able to laugh at them and myself and feel normal.

Until then, I am going to find a new incubator to house my cells because someone's incompetence has introduced bacteria into the incubator I am using.

Tuesday, April 17, 2007


As soon as I finished my post yesterday, I heard about the shootings at Virginia Tech. Everything was immediately put into perspective and I could once again see the beautiful gift that my life is and how petty and self centered I frequently am. My prayers go out to the family and friends of the victims of this crime. I pray that everyone is given the strength and support needed to work through their loss. My prayers also go out to the University leaders and police force who I believe made the best decision they could with the information they were given.

Monday, April 16, 2007

Now you see it, now you don't

I haven't had a period for 31 days. Now, the logical reason behind all this is pregnancy and my husband and I have been working (unsuccessfully) that direction. I took a test on Friday that was negative. I was angry and decided I'm not spending $10 to find out I'm not pregnant ever, ever again. I will just wait until I've gone 90 days without a period and my belly starts expanding and then I will assume I am pregnant and make a doctor's appointment. This morning I think my period started. I cried and cursed like crazy on the drive into work. Then, I got here and it stopped. I really am not enjoying this game.

My husband is no emotional support at all so I turned to my mother. She is annoyingly practical in all things. She said,"Would you quit worrying about another baby! That's in God's hands. What you should worry about is potty training the one you have. What would you do with two in diapers anyway?" Thanks for the love, Ma. I guess your point is that I am not only fertility challenged but also a neglectful mother and barely capable of raising the child I have brought into this world.

The motivation for this comment is that Manther is two (next week) and not potty trained and my mother thinks this absolutely disgraceful. She feels the average child should be potty trained by ~ 18 months. I have three siblings and I am quite certain NONE of us were potty trained at 2 years old, but my mother's memory gets weaker and her distaste for diapers gets stronger every year.

So, I am sitting at my desk silently raging because I don't know if I'm pregnant or not and my mother and husband refuse to listen to my ranting and raving. Thank God for the internet.

Friday, April 13, 2007

A plea for sanity from the yuppies

I pulled into my daughter's daycare this morning and was greeted by a fleet of bikes. Apparently, it is 'bike day' for the bigger kids and everyone had brought their wheels. It was very cheery and springlike, until I looked closer and saw the make and model of these vehicles. In my younger days, I was more active and liked to do some mountain biking. I know what type of value and price tag are associated with bike names like 'Trek' and 'Specialized'. Until today, I was not aware than you could spend that amount of money on a bike for your 3 year old. The little thing pictured here will run you $129 and this was one of the bikes in the group this morning. Am I the only one who thinks this is an extreme amount of money to spend on a starter bike that will last 1-2 years, will never go > 5 mph, and will spend 50% of it's life on it's side because CHILDREN FALL A LOT when learning to ride a bike? I can't really see the need for an extra light frame or superior handling with the bike will never make it past the block you live on. What happened to the little pink thing that you get at Target? I have a proposal for you yuppies, so listen up. If you can't bear to spend less than $120 on a bike, then why not buy 3 $40 bikes and donate the other 2 to a worthy cause? I understand that this means there are two poor children who will have a status equal to your child's in bike world, but you might actually teach your child a lesson about the value of a dollar, how to help people, better stuff does not make you a better person, and kindness. If you're worried about what the neighbors might think if your kid is on a cheap bike, buy a used one and tell everyone you're really into recycling.

Thursday, April 12, 2007

The ugly face of resentment

Yes, it's returned to ruin our serenity and steal our peace. Of course, I am referring to the ugly face of resentment. A few months back, my husband returned to to meetings very actively following a relapse. He started picking up a friend who needed a ride very regularly. The friend also needed a ride to the meeting I attend so I pick him up and take him on Wednesdays. Well, we did him a couple of fav0rs and didn't set boundaries properly and things have become uncomfortable. My husband would buy him cigarettes or pick up the tab when the group went out for coffee afterwards. The cigarette money has escalated to $200 of borrowed money and the cup of coffee has turned into a full meal at least once a week. My husband even started avoiding his home group so he could avoid buying this guy dinner. The icing on the cake is that the dude smoked in my car. Now, I used to smoke and smoke a lot and I might be more forgiving of this, BUT, I have a daughter with terrible congestion problems who rides in that car everyday. So, I built a case against this guy (he's not disabled from Hep C, I worked with Hep C, why are my taxes paying for his meal ticket, you get the picture) I fully understand that he is only doing what any other fine, red blooded, move-shootin, ex druggie alkie would do in the same situation, but he's doing it to me and I hate being the sucker. So, my husband called his sponsor last night and I am going to call 'my girls' today and we will work on polite ways to say, "Quit spending my money and poisining my child,' or something like that.

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

What a strange power there is in clothing. ~Isaac Bashevis Singer

Manther expressed strong opinions about her clothing very early on in life. She is not drawn to the frilly, pink princess styles that attract many little girls, but rather bold, primary colors with striking patterns or drawings on them. She began temper tantrums at 19 months whenever she was not allowed to wear a shirt with an 'Elmo' on it. I am ashamed to say that she won this battle and wore Elmo shirts everywhere for the m0nths following. After 6 months, this phase is passing and she will wear non-Elmo clothing several days a week. However, she insists on picking out her own clothes and her mood certainly dictates her style.

I knew Manther was opinionated about her clothes, but I didn't realize how deeply she cared for them until last night. I was in the basement doing laundry and Manther was assisting (something I encourage). We put the wet clothes in the dryer and sorted the darks on the floor. I didn't have enough for a load, so I stacked the sorted darks on the washer and waved Manther toward the stairway telling her we were done and it was time to go upstairs. When I got to the foot of the stairs, I turned to let Manther pass me. She was not behind me, but still standing in front of the washer. She was waving to the stack of clothes on the washer and saying farewell, "bye-bye shirts, bye-bye pants, bye-bye socks." It was only after I assured her that the clothes will be returned to her after washing that she was willing to go upstairs and get ready for bed. I predict a serious shopping addiction before this kid gets out of junior high.

Monday, April 9, 2007

A mother's movie review

This weekend my husband and I rented a movie and watched it, "The Departed". I know this movie is very old and everyone except for hubby and I have already seen it. I am the working mother of a toddler and I can't be expected to stay current with movies. If you want current, go to Siskel and Ebert's website. Wait, is one of them dead now? I guess I can't stay current with pop culture, either.

The movie opens with Costello (Jack Nicholson) extorting money from local business men as the head of the Irish mafia. In this scene, he meets and takes young Colin Sullivan ( Matt Damon) under his wing. Colin starts working for Costello and eventually joins the police academy and becomes a mole on the police force for Costello (Matt Damon in uniform, yummy). Billy Costigan (Leonardo DiCaprio) comes from a family of ill-repute and also joins the police force (not as hot a Matt Damon, but still sort of easy on the eyes). Despite his family connections, he's an honest guy.

At this point, I leave the movie to lay in the bed with Manther because she refuses to fall asleep on the couch watching movies. I miss 40 minutes of the movie (hubby doesn't want to pause or we will be up all night) and watch 40 minutes of 'House'. Although this show is entertaining, I probably won't be able to watch it again because the main character is a jerk and he makes me angry.

I return to movie and hubby fills me in. Colin moves up the chain of command in the police force and becomes a part of a special forces unit on organized crime with the state police. Billy does the same, but goes undercover as part of Costello's crew so Colin and Billy don't really know each other. It becomes apparent there is a security leak in both groups (the cops and the mobsters) and steps are taken within each group to uncover the mole or rat. Then, there's about 30 minutes of cat and mouse stuff between the undercover cop in the mob and the undercover mobster in the police force that is okay, but does get a little slow. In the end everyone, and I mean everyone, gets shot in the head and there is a strangely perfect and symmetrical blood splatter pattern with each head shot. Maybe that is what real life blood spatter looks like. I don't know.

I give this move a 'B'. It was pretty good. It dragged a bit in the middle and there was a little too much death at the end, but overall it was entertaining.
Finally, why is this a mother's movie review? Because it got interrupted, of course!

Sunday, April 8, 2007


Easter is almost over and what a beautiful day it was. It was grey, cold, and snowy, but that didn't matter. We were able to gather with family members and enjoy each other's company and my spirit is renewed. I have so many gratitudes right now and I just wanted to jump online and list a few.

1) Hubby and Manther
2) The extended family on both sides
2) Above all, my higher power who I'll call God. He has shown me nothing but goodness and mercy every day, but I am especially conscious of this on Easter because of the overwhelming sacrifice he made in his son, Jesus.

There are so many days in the past when I thought life was not worth living, but he chose to save me anyway and I am able to enjoy my beautiful family and my continued life on this earth because of his grace. I pray tonight (and hopefully tomorrow if I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing) that I can always remember his generous spirit and let it guide me in my daily life.

Thursday, April 5, 2007

The 'Little' Things

I am sure many of you have seen this, but I had not until today. My mom sent it to me because she knows I am a 'get out of my way I got stuff to do, hurry hurry hurry' person. I thought it was a great reminder. As an afterthought I want to add, my mother is a Christian woman but not in the program. However, her email includes one of my favorite AA affirmations, "this is exactly where God wants me to be at this moment".

As you might know, the head of a company survived
9/11 because his son started kindergarten.
Another fellow was alive because it was
his turn to bring donuts.
One woman was late because her
alarm clock didn't go off in time.
One was late because of being stuck on the NJ Turnpike
because of an auto accident.
One of them
missed his bus.
One spilled food on her clothes and had to take
time to change.
car wouldn't start.
One went back to
answer the telephone .
One had a
child that dawdled
and didn't get ready as soon as he should have.
One couldn't
get a taxi.
The one that struck me was the man
who put on a new pair of shoes that morning,
took the various means to get to work
but before he got there, he developed
a blister on his foot.
He stopped at a drugstore to buy a Band-Aid.
That is why he is alive today.

Now when I am
stuck in traffic ,
miss an elevator,
turn back to answer a ringing telephone...
all the little things that annoy me.
I think to myself,
this is exactly where
God wants me to be at this very moment..

Next time your morning seems to be
going wrong;
the children are slow getting dressed,
you can't seem to find the car keys,
you hit every traffic light,
don't get mad or frustrated;
God is at work watching over you.

May God continue to bless you
with all those annoying little things
and may you remember their possible purpose.

Wednesday, April 4, 2007

The velcro tabs go where?

As I mentioned in Monday's post, my husband and I went out to eat with the in-laws this weekend. We don't have a regular babysitter because we have been fortunate (and maybe unfortunate) to live close to relatives. However, we were taking the relatives out to eat, so none of them were available to babysit. I have nephews who are 12 and 15 years old. They are responsible boys and seemed like a good choice since Manther adores them. My husband and their father discussed the possibility of the boys babysitting, but both were a bit concerned about whether or not the boys could change a diaper. I grew up babysitting and so did my sisters. We were very familiar with diapers at an early age and I really felt the diaper changing dilemma was overrated. Apparently, their mother was also concerned because she started instructing them on the finer points of diapering a toddler. Once the word 'vagina' came out of her mouth, both boys blushed and the younger said, "I don't want to talk about this anymore." This ended the diapering discussion and we resorted to a quick demonstration on Elmo before our departure on Sunday. Well, sure enough, Manther filled her pants 20 minutes after we walked out the door. We checked in with the boys and they seemed to have everything under control. They even asked if they could take Manther to the park (such nice boys). We returned home and everything looked pretty good. There were a lot of cookie crumbs on the floor and Manther's pants were fitting funny, but the house was standing, no one was injured, and Manther seemed perfectly happy. After everyone filed out, I swept the crumbs up and checked Manther's diaper. In our elaborate discussions about diapering, no one had mentioned to the boys which was the front and which was the back of the diaper. They guessed wrong and Manther was wearing a diaper that was very short in back and had a lot extra in front and it was really funny. I haven't teased them about it yet. The trauma of a stinky diaper and the word 'vagina' falling off their mother's lips is still too fresh. But, I'll be sure to bring it up as soon as one of them brings a girlfriend home.

Tuesday, April 3, 2007

Lucky me

About 20 months ago, I was not sure I would be able to stay married to my husband. We are both in recovery and he had relapsed. He was prescribed narcotic painkillers following a car accident that had resulted in agonizing back pain. He had been sober 14 years and I didn't think about monitoring the prescription or his behaviors. He became a royal ___hole and intolerable to be around. On the fateful day, I received a phone call at work saying he had been arrested for driving erratically and leaving our 4 month old infant home alone. I did not know this at the time, but he was taking Vicodin, Zanac, and marijuana. The only thing that I did know at that time was my baby was not safe. I left work and went home, packed, and Manther and I moved out with no intention of returning.

CPS called and said we (hubby and me) had to meet with them at our home. I told them that I did not live there anymore and the baby was safe and the meeting was unnecessary. It's not quite that simple. We had to meet so CPS could get all the details. We did this and I found that I could not just run out of the house and hide with the baby. The baby and I had a right to a home (I guess that's good) and my hubby had the right to try and change (not really wanting to accept that one). So, they set up a bunch of rules for us and left. I was mean as a snake and hating hubby so much. I wouldn't even let him near the baby for weeks. He did not retaliate, but instead focused on his recovery and made his way to outpatient and meetings regularly. Eventually, he put himself back together and has become a wonderful husband, father, and employee.

I didn't know exactly what I wanted to post about today, so I read some other blogs. I hit upon a few that griped about husbands and I surely have griped about mine in my blog. But, my most honest deep down emotion is that I am proud of how hard he worked to overcome his demon and unendingly grateful that he is able to be a part of our lives today.

Monday, April 2, 2007

How many is too many

We saw the in-laws this weekend and the topic of a sibling for Manther came up. My husband and I would like to have another child. Manther is too spoiled and it would be beneficial for her to share the attention and presents. Also, I have found as an adult that being able to share the responsibility of caring for aging parents with your siblings makes the job easier. Despite our desire, no baby has been conceived. We are old folks and working within a limited time frame. I know the obvious answer for this is some sort of fertility stuff. I can't do it. I am terrified we would have a multiples birth and I would have to shoot myself. This is not an exaggeration. There is no way we could afford daycare and I can't quit work and I barely slept during Manther's infancy. The thought of two infant Manthers sends a shudder up my spine. I needed three breasts to keep Manther fed. What in the world would I do with only one boob per baby? Or, what if there were three babies? (perish the thought) I know there is always a chance I could get pregnant with twins without fertility drugs, but I firmly believe that God knows I am not a strong person and could not handle this. Although Manther might enjoy a brother or sister, I am sure she also wants a mother who is less than crazy and she might not be able to have both.