Torn.

I have been debating this posting for a while now.
I want to write it.
I don't want to write it.
I want to get it off my chest.
I don't want people to know that I feel this way.
I don't think people reading this will understand.

*deep breath* here goes...

I have, since becoming a parent, become enormously offended by the acts of a certain mother. I can't even fathom where this mother's head is. In fact, I am pretty sure that she is not, in fact, in any right mind. Not that she is particularly crazy, but just not in her right mind.

I have not read many of the news documents but I find it an abomination what she has done or allowed to be done to her son.

I will not be posting her name. She does not have a name any longer, just a number that will be assigned to her in prison. I am afraid that she and her husband are crazy enough to think it's great that their names are in the news, in the paper, all over the internet. I refuse to play into the possibility that they have a desire to be famous and now they've accomplished this. To me, you hurt a child, you are no longer a human being. It is ingrained to protect your young.

This poor little boy has suffered at the hands of monsters.

I believe in God. I believe in heaven. I believe he is there.

I am disgusted at what this poor little boy suffered, but at the same time, he didn't have to suffer for years like others have. He is gone now. He is in paradise. I can't be sad he is dead. I am not very sad when most people die. It's hard for me to be sad for someone I don't know. Especially when I don't know what's in store for them for the afterlife. I think it's usually a good thing. It's either probably better there than here or better for those here to have that person gone... does that even make sense? I can't grieve for people I don't know. I can grieve WITH people I see grieving though. I can feel a loss when a tragedy happens.  I can even feel anger. But I don't often feel sad unless it is someone I know. Then, I am usually grieving for MY loss. Not theirs.

I cried. Hard. When my Granny died. I still feel an empty place at times. Especially when I eat a BLT, Malt-o-Meal, or Cup O'Noodle Soup. I smile when I see Mary Kay makeup. I dream of her. She gives me good advice at night. She told me she really liked Matt and that he was a good choice. She approved.  But I didn't cry for her. I didn't cry for her death. I was joyous. I was so happy for her. I celebrated her life. I was sad for me and my family.

What I am torn about right now, is that there are children who are suffering right now. Who are tortured. Who are raped. Who are beaten. Who are starved. The list goes on and, unfortunately, on. I feel sad that more isn't being done for them. This particular case has sparked a lot of interest, a lot of fund raisers, a lot in the news, walks, etc. And maybe it's because it is so much more in my face due to the internet. But, I feel sad for those who don't get this. I feel sad for those families who have to bear the brunt of the bills incurred during death by themselves.

I guess what I wish is that if the suffering of children can not be stopped, I wish there was a group who did walks and charities that families could go to. Maybe not even for just families who have monsters that get their children, but for those who suffer loss from sickness or even the irrational SIDS death. (I say irrational because no one really knows what causes it and it's got to be heart wrenching to just have a child die.) That it not just be for one child. I don't know if there is one. If there is, I would like to try to get the word out. I can not even begin to imagine the loss of a child. But to lose your child in some manner and then watch as another family is able to "profit" from the death of their child would be adding insult to injury.

When I say "profit" I don't mean it in that sense, I can not think of another term.

Anyway, Saturday, I am going to a benefit to help raise money for the expenses that travel and death can accrue. I am going to give money and try to offer help. Here is the info if anyone is interested in helping. One day, if I become more organized, maybe I can start a charity for families. Until then...

Date:	Saturday, June 5, 2010
Time:	10:00am - 2:00pm
Location:	4331 West 8970 South West Jordan, Ut

Description

Come out and help us gather up funds for the Ethan Stacy fund.

Money will help out with the funeral costs, travel expenses, hotel accommodations, and more, for the family.

A lot of great vendors will be there!!!

Saturday, June 5th

4331 West 8970 South
West Jordan, UT
801-259-2353

10 am - 2 pm

Raffle tickets, $5 each, with the grand prize being a vacation voucher.
Raffle takes place at 2 pm

If you can't make it, and would like to help, here is the info for you to donate money.

Money is needed, and much appreciated.

TruPoint Bank
PO Box 1010
Grundy, VA 24614

Pay to the order of: Memorial Fund for Ethan Stacy

Small Joys

She is small. 3 pounds.

 She is my joy.

 And I get to watch her for a week. 

Nothing against you Michael, but you can go on more trips... I don't mind. :)

I just miss my Pali and it makes me happy to have her in my care for a week.  

The definition of me today.

Main Entry:	idiot
Part of Speech:	noun
Definition:	very stupid person
Synonyms:	blockhead, bonehead, cretin, dimwit, dork,dumbbell, dunce, fool, ignoramus, imbecile, jerk,kook, moron, muttonhead, nincompoop, ninny,nitwit, out to lunch, pinhead, simpleton, stupid,tomfool, twit
Notes:	an idiot  is a stupid person with a mental agebelow three years, while a moron  is a stupidperson with a mental age of between seven totwelve years

I am not sure after reading this definition if I am actually an idiot or merely a moron... but the fact still stands. Sometimes I am a very stupid person. 


Those of you who know me are probably nodding in agreement... or at least saying to yourself, "Why yes, sometimes you are." Those of you who don't know me so well, are probably thinking that no, I am not an idiot. But that's like saying I don't have freckles. Which I do.


So, we are getting off of a week long stint of sickness at my house. I don't get sick very often. And when I get sick, it's usually just a yucky bug for a day or so and I move on. Matt gets what I've had and he's down for the count. Literally down and dying. 


Linus had been sick with some sort of stomach bug for a couple days and it's been a stinky week for me at home. We started him on Pedialyte stuff to keep him hydrated. Both ends exploding is a messy stinky business. Just as I was ready to call the doctor, he got better. So...I thought, Hey, cool. No doctor visit with two kids to take them in and get one of them sick with something else. 


Sunday evening, I wasn't feeling so hot and made the off handed comment that maybe Matt should stay at home with me so that I could sleep off this bug I think I'm getting. Just to help me out a little for the one time I'm sick in a year and he had the nerve to come down with a more extreme case of exploding ends. And let me just say, he doesn't vomit quietly. *shiver with a hint of gag* 


Sigh. So much for me getting a little rest while I am feeling under the weather. For me, this whole episode consisted of a mild fever, a small episode of upset tummy/diarrhea, and nausea. The aches though. Those were the worse. My neck hurt. My knees hurt. My hips hurt. My back hurt. My head... I don't even know a word in the English language to explain. My. Body. Hurt. (Can you hear the whine in that? I hope so.)


So, I have one muy sick husband. One very healthy toddler. One very healthy creeper baby. And one sick me. We ended up taking turns sleeping and watching the kids which was great. I managed to get in enough sleep that today I actually feel pretty ok. Matt is still having some yucky tummy issues, but I am not sure how much of that is this sickness and how much is his stomach thing he's been dealing with for a year now. 


I figure that both kids are probably pretty stir crazy and I decided to take them out for a stroll. I had some packages to mail and I figured that since I am still in a place in my jean size that I am not happy I'd do something about it. Let's go for a walk to the UPS store kids!! It's just a quick 1.3 mile jaunt down a treacherous hill with crappy sidewalks. No biggie. And really, the way to the UPS store wasn't a big deal. It was very nice and pleasant. 


The way home... well, I guess I forgot that it wasn't downhill both ways. 


If you haven't seen the street I live on, it's kinda pretty much like walking around San Fransisco starting at Embarcadero Street. You can only go up. Or down I guess into the water. But it's not like a slight incline really. It's more like pushing a stroller up the stairs of the Empire State Building. I haven't walked more than a block in a long time. I'm so out of shape. 


We got home, thanks to Linus insisting on helping me push the stroller home. I would have definitely pushed myself to and past my limit of my stamina trying to get home as fast as I can. 
Burn those calories!! 
Burn that fat!! 
Build those muscles!!


Ya, remember we were sick for 4 days? 


I just wanted to repeat that I am an idiot. Way to push myself back to sick. 


I've decided that I didn't get sick like Matt and Linus. I got what celebrities call "exhaustion". I just don't have the luxury of going to the hospital, getting and IV, some good drugs, and sleeping it off. So I am working at staying in this exhausted/migrainy state of being that so far has left me not vomiting yet. YES!! *fist pump*


By the by, before I sign off on this post, I SO have to pimp out my shoes. I bought a pair of Tom's shoes. I have been wanting a pair. Been looking at buying a pair for two years now. Talked to a girl wearing a pair and asked if she liked them. She said she'll never buy another brand of shoes ever again. I finally bought a pair. I will never buy another brand of shoes again (other than my high heels cause they make me feel pretty). After walking that ridiculous walk, my feet don't hurt. My feet aren't swollen, achy, ugh feet that usually happen when I walk too far. I can stand all day at home walking around, cleaning, working and feel FABULOUS!! I love, love, love these shoes. 


Plus they donate a pair of shoes for every pair you buy. Bonus on the good vibes. 


Yup, definitely upgraded myself to moron. I at least wore sensible shoes this time. 

How...

does Linus come up with these things?

Most mornings, Linus wakes up around the same time that Matt wakes up to get ready for work. They usually kind of hang out a little, which I love cause #1 I get to sleep a little and #2 they get some daddy/son time. 

Matt turns on the TV to qubo before he leaves in the morning and so Linus is free to kind of run around our bedroom while I work on waking my sorry self up. 

Usually Linus wakes me up by poking me in the eye. Or poking his cup into my face. Or pushing a banana into my face. One day he did get his face as close to mine as he could till I woke up. He squealed then smacked me. Good Morning!

So, this morning, I woke up to Linus licking my cheek. Following the lick with "mmmm-num". 

???

Who knew I tasted so good in the morning?!? 

Unfortunately, he has started licking my arms, legs, feet, face, belly. Any chance he gets. 

Today, while getting ready to get in the shower, he licked my bum. 

I have a feeling for my own comfort we will no longer have co-ed showers in my house. He's not quite two, but it was too weird for even me. 

My fatty boombalattie

There was a little girl

Who had a little curl

Right in the middle of her forehead

When she was good

She was very very good

But when she was bad 

She was HORRID

This is my little girl with all of her little curls and it makes me afraid that she has some of that poem in her. She is very very good a lot... but oh, I am afraid of the horrid.

My little baby girl is almost always a constant source of joy to me. From the top of her crazy hair down to her long crazy toes, she makes me smile. Her smile is not just a smile with her mouth. Her whole face lights up. She has to use her eyes, her mouth, her hair line moves. Her giggle is like tinkling bells. When she gets excited, her whole body lets me know. She kicks her feet, her arms shake, she sounds like she's hyperventalating.

She is finally sleeping on her own. All night long. Let me repeat. ALL. NIGHT. LONG. Not that I do, but that's a different story. She wakes up at 4am to eat and then cuddle and sleeps with me until 8 or until Linus wakes us up. I am not one for co-sleeping because I don't sleep well. Bea smells so good to me that I don't mind having her cuddled right up to me for a couple of hours. I love to smell her head, her blanket, her car seat...unless there was a spit up. When she sleeps with us, it's cute. She has to cuddle and she doesn't even care who it is, so she rolls from Matt to me. When she reaches one of us, she'll *wigglewigglewiggle* till she gets herself tucked in as close as she can.

Little B loves her brother. Just looking at him makes her smile and giggle. She watches him and studies him and prefers him over most anybody else. He doesn't so much like her anymore. She is getting mobile and wants to play with him. He doesn't want to share. He has even started the "Don't touch me" thing.

On one hand I love that she's such a momma's girl, but it is difficult when I need to do something and someone else holds her and she starts to scream because I stepped away.

I love that she looks like she is half asleep almost all of the time and that she smiles so easily. I love her deep belly laugh and I can't help laughing with her when she does it.

I do not love her scream, but that is because my ears don't love it. Thankfully she doesn't do that too very often. Mostly when she is in need of one of the three necessities. Diaper change, food, or sleep.

I love that I feel that I have always known her. She seems an old soul to me. I love that in bonding with her, I have bonded better with my son. I love that she and Linus have really made Matt and I closer and more tightly bonded. It truly feels that we are a family.

I would never have thought in a million gazillion years that having a little girl would have made me this happy, this content, so full of peace. I know I say this now and that I do have the little princess stage, the know it all stage, the teenage angst and drama to look forward to. Maybe she will be more like me and not be so much a princess, too much of a know it all, and peacefully on the outside slide into teenage years. Maybe she'll be like my little sister. Too much princess, some know it all, very much drama into teenage years only to calm down once she had a baby near the end of her teenage life.

My favorite part of Bea and Matthew was their very first meeting. The look on his face when he saw her for the very first time... I have no words. It was beautiful.

This is my favorite baby picture or hers. She smiles at her daddy.

We had some rough early day pictures. She was not very photogenic. She had stoner face or her tongue was hanging out. But as my dad said, I'm glad she's grown into her face.

This is her "Superman Pick Me UP" pose. I did finally get a picture of her cute crooked smile though.

I know the whole color stuff is out of control in this pic and it hurts my eyes, but she sure is cute in that hat!

Linus and Bea in their gbums. They are the same size diaper. I sure hope she doesn't pass him up size wise...

This is Bea gazing lovingly at Matt's cousin Brian. Poor guy has nothing but sisters. He is AMAZING with kids.

My cutie patootie with her pigtails in...

The reason we put pigtails in her hair in the first place.

I CAN NOT get a picture of her smiling without it being blurry. She can't smile and hold still. Like I said, she smiles with her whole body.

The cutest picture I have of her with Grandpa Bailey. Oh, her smile melts me. Makes me smile even when I can't bear to bring one up. She melts Grandma Bailey's heart. She has her daddy wrapped around his finger already. I am afraid.

She makes me want another one.

Fly on the wall...

So here is a conversation that the fly on the wall heard the other day...

Matt: So..... I may have accidentally won an auction on ebay.
Me: Accidentally? What did you win? You've been shopping for eggs again?!?!
Matt: Silkie chicken eggs. ButIdidn'tmeantoIwasuplateandtheauctiondidn'tcloseforafewdayssoIputabidon. (spoken very fast translated to "But I didn't mean to. I was up late and the auction didn't close for a few days, so I put a bid on")
Me: *sigh + eye roll* How many?
Matt: 60
Me: WHAT?!?!? WTF are we going to do with 60 chickens?!?!
Matt: *giggling* just kidding. Only 15. Come look and see what I bought.

So we go and look online and...
Matt: Oh. It looks like I accidentally won another auction. Oops!

So, we received our silkie eggs in the mail today and should be receiving 6 red-golden pheasant eggs in the mail any day. Plus, our quail will be hatching the 20th-ish.

What have I gotten myself into!?

Hit in the head

I'm pretty sure that it is human nature to have a kind of knee jerk reaction to pain.

It's hot, pull back.
It pokes, pull it out. Isn't that how Steve Irwin died?
It squishes, pull away.
etc.

Of course, I'm only talking about physical pain. Emotional pain is a different story. Time and time again, we are hurting and we stay in the situation and even delve in further and make it worse.

So, Linus is getting tall enough that he can easily get into the kitchen drawers. He has been for a little while though, but has avoided the sharp drawer due to Mom and Dad's reaction to him trying to get it. So, we have managed to avoid any Linus/knife catastrophes to date.

Today, while bent over the coffee table trying to scrape off toddler crack that goes by the name of Gogurt, Linus hauled off and baseball swung our knife sharpener and hit me right on the bridge of my nose.

My immediate reaction was to throw whatever caused that body tingling, stars above my head, cuckoo sounding, sick down to my toes pain across the room.

I had a nanosecond to mentally override the instinctive knee jerk reaction to avoid the pain and preserve the life of my offspring. I am proud to say I succeeded.

In retrospect, in my nauseous state, am very glad it was the knife sharpener and not one of our knives that kit my nose. I am also very glad it was my nose and not Bea's head.

Child locks are being placed now as I type.

Now, I will go lay down and hope that he didn't break off a sharp piece of nasal bone that will slowly travel to my brain and kill me.  ;)