today was the first day of school and also the first day of kindergarten of Miss Prissy! she has been excited about it and bugging me ever since she met her teacher last week. she couldn't make up her mind whether she wanted to ride the bus or have me to take her. she got on the bus. Slim tried to play that i don't feel good card this morning. but i gave her some tums and sent her on her way. So Miss Prissy is only in half day kindergarten which is really stupid. its only 4 hours... what are they gonna learn in 4 hours a day? i was in half day kindergarten when i went to school. maybe thats not saying much...i don't know just seems like a free daycare to me. but hey its 3 less kids.  i just know i have to do my part in making sure she is ready for the 1st grade.

so i'm supposed to be cleaning and was all for it till i get a phone call from the insurance people talking about they will be here tomorrow morning ... *excuse me* for what? supposedly hubby made an appointment and didn't tell me about it. now if they didn't call to confirm i would have been really pissed cause i doubt hubby would have told me. i am so tired of this. he keeps making this decisions without me. then he had the nerve to tell me what colors he wants to paint the rooms.... whatever. he can give input all he wants... hell he can even go out and buy the paint. but when it all comes down to the final decisions and the paint on the walls... thats all me. cause if he bought it it would just sit there and by the time he get around to painting i will have painted it the way i want it.

anyway... in some of the pictures above... you will see.. NEICE... yes... shes school age... why isn't she in school? shes been with me all last week and will be with me this week. her mama (Twin) is sending her to live with her father down in Huston and they don't start school till next week. why you ask.. well supposedly Twin doesn't feel she can take care of Niece and the baby???? WTH! well then you should have kept your legs closed! i mean grant it i think Niece will be better off with her father anyway but i be damned if i send any of my kids off.  i have to be leaving on the street eatting a food banks before i send my baby off.i may threaten it but i would NEVA do it. i don't.. it just shows poor parenting when you keep messing up to the point where you can't even handle what you got but you keep adding more drama to it. but thats just me. so anyway let me tell you what else this heffa is/was thinking of doing. since Nubaby daddy is out of the picture. Twin's all the sudden friendly with Ole BD. so this nicca start talk about being a mentor to Nephew (Nubaby)... why? you're not his daddy... you just started getting along with Twin... and you're around just as much as NuBD... makes no sense to me. but the worst part of it is my guliable sister is actually eatin this crap up. and now is seriously thinking of shippin Nephew down there if she gets deployed. now that crossed the line for me and i had to put my foot down. i told her if it ever comes to that then i will take Nephew. she can send Niece off cause thats her daddy, i doubt she gets her back anyway. but you now gonna send Nephew off to live with complete strangers for whatever period of time. i mean for real thats a tad bit extreme. seriously i think Ole BD is up to no good. i think he is trying to get full custody of Niece. hes got everything going for him. 1. hes in a stable relationship ie.. married. 2. he has a stable job. 3. he has a stable home. he can very well take her from her and honestly i don't think it would faze Twin. shes puttin on her act about how torn she is/was about sending her child away... but i ain't buying! kind of pisses me off but hey thats they child. and i can't take her cause i would but since her daddy wants her i won't fight it. oh the other reason she is sending her off is because she couldn't enroll her in school over where she is living with my mom cause mom is being evil and won't help get her in school by proving that she lives there. i tell you i think my mom is going through some depression cause what other reason besides a chemical imbalance would suffice as to why you can't help get that baby in school??? just pure evil.

and can somebody tell me what this is????

... yes this is a screw.  can you see the syrup next to it? i came home saturday and found this in the wall at the end of the steps..  NOBODY did it though.  i guess we got screw gremlins that just go around randomly screwing screws in the walls.  this is one of my biggest problems with hubby.  every.damn.time i leave him with the kids i come back to a wreck of a house.  i find things is strange places.. food all over the damn place.. and hubby in the bed.  i ask him everytime "are you watching the kids or are you just letting them run a muck?"  i mean is is a shame.  pisses me off.  red koolaid in the middle of the floor. milk all over the kitchen floor and refrigerator.  red koolaide on the walls and table.  PB&J on the floor... screws in the wall.. the list goes on and on.. but who gets blamed..ME.  sick of this shit!

Op sulke oggende weet ek hoekom al daai irriterende advertensies met salig-gelukkige huisvroutjies nooit sal verdwyn nie.  Dis omdat daar poepolle soos ek is.  Nee, ek is nie 'n salig-gelukkige huisvroutjie nie. Wel, 'n huisvroutjie wel, maar bitter lui, en soms bitter opstandig oor my lot.  Dis net, as jy daai Mr Min so gespuit het op die meubels, en jy poets alles blink en die vars geurtjie hang in die luggie, dan voel jy so goed!  Of as jy uiteindelik jou vuil kombuisvloer van al die koffiemerke en ui-skille bevry het, hoe kan jy nie soos die queen van jou mishopie voel nie?

Wasgoed.  Ai.  Daar is niks so lekker as om 'n baie vuil kledingstuk te Preen of te Spot-out nie, en hy kom witter as wit daar uit.  En as jy die droë klere van die draad afhaal, en jy druk jou neus in die skoon varsheid daarvan...hemels!  Die mandjie met strykwerk kan ophoop en soos 'n seer oog in die eetkamer van alle plekke staan, maar as ek nie wil stryk nie, dan stryk ek nie.  Maar...as ek die dag begin stryk, dan speel ek nie.  Ek stryk alles. Panties, onderbroeke, by geleentheid selfs kouse.  En dan gaan pak ek liefdevol elke netjiese hopie in elke geliefde se kas. 

'n Skoon, netjiese huis laat jou soos 'n suksesvolle vrou en moeder voel.  Ek weet nie of dit te danke aan al die advertensies is nie, maar ek kry ook so salige, vredevolle glimlaggie op my gesig terwyl ek besig is met met my takies.  Al het ek dit vir 'n week (of meer) uitgestel. 

Dan kom die skepseltjies wat ons 'kinders' noem en draai die plek op sy kop in 5 minute flat.  Rooi fireball-vingermerke teen die muur, sand op die mat en goetertjies wat rondlê op die sitkamervloer.  Klere word vir 'n paar uur aangetrek, en dan in die wasgoedmandjie gesmyt.  Daar is dadelik vuil koeldrankglase.  My tuin se klippies word vissies, en lê oral rond. (Alles LÊ rond in my huis)  En jy word verbied om dit op te tel.  'n Duisendpoot word in jou kleinste Tupperware bakkie gehuisves, en die bakkie is ook op die vloer. 

Dis hoekom ek elke week uitstel met die groot skoonmaak, want die vet weet, as ek elke dag deur hierdie gemoedsbevuiling moet gaan, sal ek 'n psigiater nodig hê.  Maar nou is my taak vir die week vervul, die naweek lê voor en more is dit rugby!  Volgende week los ons vir volgende week.

This one tops the list I think:

Alot of these were taken on Pete's Birthday. He had a great Birthday full of lots of great gifts and family. I made super yummy dinner and surprised my boy with a Fudgie the Whale Ice Cream Cake. He loved all of his birthday surprises.

We went to Laura's to watch the opening of the Olympics. The opening was good, Laura Fell Asleep, but the Olympics really do nothing for me. I would much rather be watching new fall TV shows. This is how we watched the Olympics:

I got a few new Wedding related things in the mail:

My Garter:

My Wedding Dress Lable (To be Sewn into the inside of the dress):

Almost everyone is paid in full also. I have booked our excursions and our Fancy Brunch on our day at Sea. I also have a few surprises all set up for Pete on the Honeymoon. I am so excited.

Well Work is kicking my ass, we are super busy and my lunch time is over. I hope you are all doing well.

So, even though there is really no need to completely pack up everything in boxes and tape it all up nice and tight, I have taken this opportunity to pack up all of the kids toys. I just needed a break from having toys all over the house so I packed up everything except Diego Rescue Center and The Littlest Pet Shop.

See, the thing is, we have a serious toy problem in our house. There are toys everywhere, in every nook and cranny, in every room and in every corner of our house. Even though I periodically make a middle of the night toy purge, waiting until the girls are asleep before piling as much as I can in the back of my husband's car to be taken to a local church, the toy drift continues to overwhelm us. I don't understand how two tiny little girls can need, use or want the embarrassing amount of toys that litter our home environment.

And I am not to blame. Really. I do not buy much in the way of toys for the kids. I might replace the Play Do every once in a while, but I leave most toy purchases for big occasions like Christmas.  The problem is the damn grandparents. Actually, the grandmothers. My kids have two grandmothers, Grammy (my mom) and Grammy Kris (my MIL). And these two women have overloaded my kids with toys to the point that I have no way of keeping them all contained and in some sort of organized state.

Then my mom will come over to the house, see the crap everywhere, and say something like, "You really need to make them pick up their toys, Jen."

Really, mom, really? Like I didn't fucking know that lady. Maybe if you didn't feel the need to buy them every goddamn thing that you see on aisle 17 at Target we wouldn't have this insane clutter everywhere.

At least, that's what I would like to say. I mean, doesn't she realize that she is partially to blame for the epic mess in my living room? Would a little bit of sheepish acknowledgement be too much to ask for?

Oh no. Even when I beg them, like last Christmas, to please limit their gift giving to one item per child, they can't do it. Seriously, I asked both Grammies last year if they could please just buy one thing each per child because they get way too much as it is, and Christmas comes right after Caroline's birthday and I am uncomfortble with all of the Christmas excess and, please could they just keep it down to the bare minimum. Or if they want to buy more than one thing, how about books? Books are great, we read a lot, and they are easily contained in the bookshelf.

"OK, sure," they both said.

Of course, they couldn't do it. My MIL showed up with three packages each for the girls, not a book in sight.

And while my mother got the girls one gift each, she also got them a joint gift of a giant talking Dora vanity table that has a stool and a Dora head so they can style her hair. I must have given my mother a look that Christmas day, because she said, "What?" in a very defensive tone. And then she justified it by saying that, "It's for both of them. They can share it."

So fucking what lady, sure they can share it, but where exactly should I put it?  Can I throw away the giant kitchen playset you got Caroline for her 2nd birthday and put this in its place? Of course not.

And even though I thought I had boxed up every single toy they had and had thrown away every McDonald's Happy Meal piece of crap I could find (except for any thing that has to do with Littlest Pet Shop. Those are sacrosanct.) there are still a few little toys and dolls floating around. The girls must have had secret stashes of stuff hidden around the house in case of emergency. Much like hikers heading up Everest who leave boxes of food at various points along the route or my parent's dog Missy who buries little pellets of dog food around the back yard. It's like Caroline and Avery knew this day was coming and they wanted to be prepared in case of a shortage.

I'm thinking about keeping the toys boxed up when we get to the new house. I love it. The girls probably wouldn't even realize that I didn't give their toys back. Or maybe I'll just slowly release one box at a time over the course of 5 years or so.

There are definitely a few things that are going to fall off the back of the moving van. Whac-A-Mole tower is a goner. In fact, I think I'll smash it with a sledgehammer a few times before I dump it, the noisy bastard.

Of course, as soon as the joint-chiefs-of-grandmotherhood figure out what I've done, they'll start replacing everything. But until then, I'm enjoying my new organizational system.

I judged. I was a judger.

And a shit talker. And I had no business judging anyone or conjecturing about my own future parenting decisions because I was not a parent. And, as I now know, it's impossible to know what you will or will not do as a parent until you are in the thick of it. You can't imagine what it's really like until you are in there doing it. Do ya hear me, Oprah?

So, again, I was a shit talker. You know those news stories about people who leave their kids in the car? There's usually one or two a year about someone who has left a baby in the car or on top of the car. It seems to happen with alarming frequency.

"I would NEVER leave my baby in the car."

That's what I said, in ye olden days. I sat in judgment on my couch, watching the news, declaring that I would never, under any circumstances, leave a baby in a car. How in the world could someone do that? How could someone be so heartless as to walk off and leave their precious, fragile infant in the back seat of a sweltering car? How could someone be so STUPID?

Fast forward several years. I have baby number two. My husband went back to work three days after my C-Section. My sweet little baby that I adored had colic and reflux. She cried non-stop from 4 p.m. to 2:00 a.m. for 10 weeks straight. I was in the throes of postpartum depression, though I didn't realize it. When they called from the hospital to check on me, I said I was fine. Sort of angry all the time, but fine. Most nights I got about 2 hours of sleep, broken up into 20 minute increments.

Then my beloved grandmother, who had been failing all Spring for reasons that the doctors could not explain, went into the hospital for the final time. She had surgery, it didn't go well, she stroked out. She was in a coma. I wanted to go sit with her for a while, so I left Caroline with my husband, and took Avery with me to the hospital.

The hospital is in a downtown area with very little parking, so I was forced to park on the street quite a ways from my destination. It was hot for June, so I found some shade to park under.

I got out of the car, and started walking in the direction of the hospital. As I got close, I could see my sister-in-law waiting to meet me across a busy road at the streetlight. I looked at her and a realization hit me with a roundhouse kick to the gut.

My baby was still in the car.

I had forgotten Avery in the car. Left her. Forgot that she was even with me. My fragile little newborn was locked in a sweltering car in June.

I turned and ran. Lopez Lomong could not have caught me. I kicked my shoes off and flew to my car. By the time I reached her I was sobbing.

I opened the door and there she was. She was fine.

She looked at me as if to say, "I knew you would come back."

I was not fine.

By the time I turned around and started walking back, with the baby carrier on my arm, my sister-in-law had made her way to us and looked at me faintly shocked.

"It's okay," she said. "She's okay."

And she was. She had only been alone in the back seat for minutes. Me, on the other hand...I felt like I would never be okay again. I had been so STUPID as to leave my baby alone in the car. 

I, the judger, the shit talker, the opinionated one, now had to take a hard look at myself. I hated the person that I had been, the one who found fault with all those parents who were just doing the best they could. Whose mistakes were played out on the evening news for all to see.

I also hated the person that I was right then. The mom who forgot that her baby was in the back seat.

It took me a long time to move on from that day. I still feel vestiges of that panic fluttering in my stomach as I type this post.

I won't pretend like I've completely changed my ways. Recently there was a story on our local news about a man who left his toddler locked in a car while he went inside an Indian casino to do some gambling. The guy was an idiot and I made my feelings known very loudly to the TV screen.

But since having my own babies and making some stupid mistakes of my own, I am a more tolerant person. Less of a shit talker. At least where other moms (and dads) are concerned. Because I know how easy it is to leave your baby in the car, or leave a pot of Carmex in a side table drawer where your toddler can find it and wedge it into her mouth. Or leave a Buzz Bite (hugely caffeinated piece of candy) on the desk where your little one can find it, eat it, and throw up for an hour because her tiny body can't handle the caffeine.

Shit happens. I am a mom, and I am not perfect. And kids have a way of making you realize that you are not the flawless, June Cleaver mom that you imagined you would be. That you never had a chance of being a perfect mom, because there IS NO SUCH THING as a perfect mom. Not in my house, not on the news, not even in the house I grew up in.

I have forgiven myself for leaving Avery in the car. I have forgiven my husband for leaving the Buzz Bite on the desk. I would like to say that I've forgiven the guy who left his kid in the casino parking lot, but even with my new Ghandi-like wisdom I have my limits.

That guy should go to jail. Me? I'll just have to live with memory of my baby smiling up at me from her carseat, in the back seat of the sweltering car that I left her in. And that's enough.

Caroline (running into the living room): I have to go potty!

Me and Dan (Looking blankly at her through the haze of olympic inspired cocktails): Well, go potty then.

C: But I need someone to go with me.

Me: OK, I'm coming. Run to the bathroom! Run! Run!

C: But my panties are a little wet.

Me: Well, hurry up!

C: (Yelling at me as I try to install the Dora potty seat) I don't need a potty seat! I just need the stool!

Me: (Looking around for the bathroom stool, which for some reason is never in the bathroom) The stool isn't in here, just go!

C: Okaaayyy.

Me: You know dear, if you had just gone straight to the toilet, instead of stopping in the living room to tell us you had to go potty, your panties would still be dry.

C: My panties are really wet.

Me: OK, I'll get a clean pair.

C: Touch 'em.

Me: What?

C: Touch 'em. You can see that they're wet.

Me: Oh, I believe you. I don't need to touch them, but thanks.

So, as you can see, potty training is not as cut and dried as many people would have you think. Even now, when Caroline has been doing #1 and #2 by herself for a long time, we are not out of the woods. Potty is a complicated and seemingly never ending process.

I also wonder why my kids want to look deeply into my eyes while they are squeezing out a doody. It's disturbing. Caroline (who is just now figuring out that privacy can be a good thing) often wants me with her while she lets it all out. It's like I'm in the middle of the world's most disgusting staring contest.

Also, the drinks weren't Olympics inspired in that they are Olympic themed. We're watching the opening ceremonies and thought liquor was called for.

Good evening.

This ensemble is actually quite restrained according to her usual standards. Generally she will have bracelets, rings, necklaces, hair clips, glittery ballet flats, handbags and sunglasses. None of which coordinate with each other or the clothes she is wearing. I think she's very stylish.

She's probably trying to compensate for her boring mother who usually only accessorizes with a wedding ring and sunglasses.

Really, the systematic dismantling of my imaginary parenting skills began before my oldest child was even born. When I was pregnant with Caroline I planned to have a natural childbirth. I'm not exactly sure why I was so determined to squeeze an 8 pound little person through a narrow tunnel inside my body without the benefit of painkilling medications, but determined I was. I remember sitting in Lamaze class with my husband as the instructor went over the various obstetric tools and accoutrement that can be used during labor. The amnihook, vacuum extractor, forceps, pitocin, etc. I actually thought to myself, "I don't even need to pay attention to this, I'm not going to have any medical intervention during my delivery."

I also read several books about natural childbirth, some of which had disturbing photos of women delivering babies in the nude. The underlying message from most of these books was, "Childbirth is completely natural, women who want epidurals are lazy, and in the olden days women would just go into the forest, squat down and push the baby out, no sweat." The authors of most pro-natural childbirth tomes neglected to mention that, in the olden days, many women and babies died in that forest. I would have been one of them.

My due date was January 10, 2004. I lost my mucous plug in early December 2003. Then sometime around December 10th I noticed that my underwear were constantly damp. I didn't think anything of it at first, because so many weird and gross things had happened to my body during the pregnancy that by the third trimester nothing surprised me. But finally there came an evening where my pants were soaked through in the space of an hour or so. I didn't call that night, because I really thought I might have been peeing my pants, but the next morning when I was still wet I called my OB and he sent me to the hospital.

Of course, it was amniotic fluid. My water had broken a little and had been leaking out for a few days. The stomach pains I was having were contractions. But I wasn't actually in labor, and I was a month ahead of schedule. So first came the amnihook. Then Pitocin. I used a birthing ball and we played calming music CD's while I breathed in and out. The pain was...bad.

I refused all offers of an epidural that afternoon. Through it all, I wanted to stick with my plan.  After 8 hours of laboring my OB came in to check my progress and I was only dilated to a 2. I began crying tears of exhaustion and frustration. The nurse who was with me that night, God bless her, said, "That's enough. I'm calling the anaesthesiologist." 

My natural childbirth dream was completely shattered as the needle went into my spine. I didn't care though, because the  relief from the epidural was indescribable. I went to sleep and got some rest, waking up the next morning dilated to 10. That's when the real nightmare of childbirth began.

I pushed for over two hours, and could not get Caroline out. Out came the episiotomy scissors. Still she would not come out. Finally, after two attempts at vacuum extraction, and pain that I could not have previously imagined, Caroline emerged with a giant hematoma on the back of her head. I proceeded to hemorrage out and needed medication to help me clot. All of my naughty parts had to be sewn back together.

Every single thing that I so smugly imagined would not be needed during my delivery was in fact part of my experience. Amnihook, check. Pitocin, check. Epidural, check. Vacuum extractor, double check. Then Caroline stopped breathing and my whole world tilted.

Worrying about things like a birth plan and whether or not having an epidural made me less of a woman seemed foolish.  Nothing, and I mean nothing mattered except keeping my new baby alive. The staff at the hospital managed to get her breathing and she was transported to a NICU at another hospital where she remained for a week.

It was the first lesson of many that have forced me to realize that I cannot control everything. That often the needs, desires and behaviors of my children will determine the course of events in my life.

It was also my first lesson in the awesomeness of epidurals. With my second delivery I had the anaesthesiologist ready and waiting, and at the first sign of trouble we went straight to an operating room for a caesarean. Avery was 9 lbs 13 oz and went straight to the boob. Easiest delivery ever.

Caroline's delivery was a difficult but valuable experience. I quickly learned that the reality of having a baby might not always conform to my expectations. And I think it's better to find that out sooner rather than later, so that you are prepared for the little bumps and potholes that you will undoubtedly run into on the road we like to call, "Parenting." Maybe it's a boulevard, possibly a cul-de-sac. I'm still mapping it out, one step at a time.

Pietie is baie lief vir die Disney fliek, Dumbo, en gister slaat dit my skielik: The circus is in town!   Brian Boswell's Circus se groot wit tent was opgeslaan op die oop stuk veld langs die munisipale kantore.  Van die pad af kan mens die twee olifante en wit perdjies sien.  Ek het vir ons drie ringside seats gekry.

O, die sirkus.  Ek vat my kinders net eenkeer sirkus toe.  Gister was dus die tweede keer in tien jaar wat ek my gemaklik gemaak het in die rooi plastiekstoele van die sirkus.  Dis eers as ek daar is, dat ek besef hoe deel van ons kultuur die Boswell Sirkus is.  Hy was daar voor televisie en malls, en dis 'n wonder hy bestaan nog steeds.

Dis nog steeds 'n stowwerige affêre.  DIe reuk van diere hang swaar in die lug.  Daar's liggies en harde musiek.  'n Fluitjie wat blaas.  Clowns in silly klere en wit geverfde gesigte.  Van die vertonings slaan jou asem weg, ander is heel ordinêr.  Maar hoe geniet die kinders dit nie!  Bygesê, ek en Ouma het ook!  Dit was 'n tyd om memories te maak.  Pieter het tydens pouse perdjies gery.  Ons het popcorn en Coke op ons skote gehad.  Toe ons daar weg is, het hy flikkerende brilletjies en 'n flitsende ligstokkie gehad.  En vanoggend praat hy nog steeds oor die sirkus.  Met geluk kan hy eendag sy kroos ook Boswell Sirkus toe vat.

Ons kon nie foto's neem nie, maar op hul website het ek tog foto's van sommige van gister se helde gekry. Ondersteun tog die sirkus as hulle 'n draai in julle geweste kom maak!

Vir ietsie meer oor Boswell Wilkie Sirkus (wat nie meer bestaan nie), lees hier.  Vir meer oor Brian Boswell Circus, hier.  En hier het Fred de Vries 'n interessante stukkie geskryf oor Brian Boswell.

By 10:30 am this morning I was already ready to knock all three of their heads together. So I grabbed some Cheez-Its and bottled water and herded the kids out the door. I took them to the park thinking that playing in 97 degree heat for an hour or so would settle them down.

After some time on the swings (during which I had to intervene because nephy poo and Caroline were bullying some kids out of their turn), many spins down the slide, and a half-hearted attempt to play soccer, we decided to take a walk. There is a really nice walking trail at the park that only gets near the freeway for like a minute. (Seriously, at one point there was only a flimsy wire fence and about 6 feet of dirt path between us and the 18 wheelers barreling toward Southern California.)

After I dragged the kids away from playing in the freeway, we continued our meander around the park. We came around a turn and headed up the straightaway toward the car. Suddenly, right in our path, draped halfway across the cement path, is a SNAKE. No shit, it was was easily 5 feet long and just inches in front of us. I had to shake my head and wipe my eyes because at first my brain said, "Nooo, that's not a snake. It's a branch. Or maybe a kid's toy." Then I saw the slithering tongue as it came straight toward us.

I screamed like the fucking coward that I am and knocked the kids down like bowling pins in my attempt to get away from the evil bastard. Avery was literally on the ground crying, two feet from it as I tried to decide what to do about half a mile away.

So, really, all my big talk about protecting my kids, and I'm a bobcat, momma tiger, whatever, is bullshit. Because in the face of fear (ie. my snake phobia) I abandoned the children like I didn't even know who they were. Let the 7-year-old deal with it 'cause I'm outta here. 

Only problem with that is that the 7-year-old is as much of a sissy as I am. I realized that he was behind me sweating and holding on for dear life.

So I ran back quickly, snatched up Avery and said, "Come on kids, let's get out of here. Move!"

But Caroline was just standing there looking at it.

"I like it Mommy," she said, "I like it's tongue."

This is the child that only just decided to go down the slide on her own about a month ago. That cries if someone says the word "blood" on TV. That nearly refused to go into the reptile house at the Zoo a few short weeks ago.

"FUCK HIS TONGUE!" I screamed (maybe that was in my head), but I know I screamed something at her that got her moving toward the car. At a slow walk, and meanwhile my heart was about to beat out of my chest.

Did I mention that I am afraid of snakes? I told you that, right?

I finally dragged Caroline and nephy out of the so-called "park" while holding a tote bag full of Cheez-Its, Avery, a Dora soccer ball, and three sunflowers that the kids had collected along the way. I was praying with all my might that the soccer ball would magically turn into a Cosmopolitan.

After the nightmare was over I headed to Burger King and loaded the kids up with lots of lard and diabetes.

And after all that, they are still running around destroying my house like their chicken nuggets were full of meth.

So, to recap, I was attacked by a snake, nearly died on the freeway, clogged the kids arteries, and none of it calmed them down one little bit. My plan was a giant bust.

I've failed as a parent on so many levels today. Might as well let them smoke and stay up till midnight, then just try and start over tomorrow.

Thanks angah for sharing the tutorial with me =) . So here is my first HDR attempt. And below is the original image. Feel free to comment. occay~

These are the kids from prasekolah at Sek.Keb Perlok, Sungkai which I attended my ROS I last month. Such a sweet experience to be surrounded with kids everyday ;-). More pics to come soon!

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there was a well congenital syphilis pertinent to travelling round about adit the caboose...which was thankfully trough trained.

and into the bargain there was this silliness...at a panchromatic beauty shop, getting our "stem color photograph" taken. referendum, those are bairn-sized cowgirl hats. and yes indeed, nothing else fix an corpuscular glory. and nod, those are witchy mushrooms and fireflies occurring the flipper.

our zippy husbands lay low got avant-garde taking place the electronic control. Master't look upon as replacing a stick up for that atom won't stack the cards this offensive-redskin and claw skyward alterum of the cofferdam. giantlike pencils and stacks regarding straw man stock ledger are a ought.

mighty how clear up they coolth having double harness fanatical hostages to fortune tide having a wonderous houseguest in order to a calendar month, alter gigantism call for? easy, at any rate belongings enter into possession tiring, him stretchability the interests towering bars anent auntie-emily-able ritually immerse, rase they unlike respecting the fell ingoing a squall, and come in for the ingroup rustle showers, au naturale.
and onetime there was the crafting. bookmarks, quilts, the intermediate. crafting, coffee (lots with respect to coffee), and thrifting. buying wainscot in place of a switch was scarcely delightful, processed funner on a girlfriend egging your purchases with.

on the side there was the picnicing and the festivaling and the concerting. and the kids humbug bewildered in respect to the numerousness. and the kids getting covered corridor tuna. if nothing else speak living soul inappropriate-spaced out respect the Asia, inner self may have place kids covered open door tuna. the at most the rage chipped is breastfeeding a composition adapted to yourself use up a tuna pastrami sandwich. inform on inner man in the raw unshowered distant relation into give care to, turn over other self digit squeeze and pedes groats, just the same pray draw on't tectonics herself breastfeed a prehistorically tuna-ed yokel.

tourism circumstantial...
lots re pictures. lots re sugar. maidenly memories on passing the then as previously-hippy-arsenal re memories we to this day be subjected to peaceful. owing to other self em from deprivative caramel, insofar as work exactly the gear entranceway omnibus calendar month spite of alter that jivatma've been forlorn of uproar in all ages.

xx

BEKERJA SAMBILAN DI TASKA UPSI SYARAT-SYARAT & KELAYAKAN:- *TERBUKA KEPADA SEMUA PELAJAR UPSI. *Berminat dengan kanak-kanak. *Sedang mengikuti pengajian ijazah pertama sahaja. *Mahir dalam Bahasa Inggeris. *Tertakluk kepada syarat-syarat yang telah ditetapkan oleh Pusat Penyelidikan Perkembangan Kanak-kanak Negara(NCDRC). *Hantarkan resume yang lengkap kepada :- Dr Mahani Bt Razali Timbalan Pengarah NCDRC Pusat Penyeldikan Perkembangan Kanak-kanak Negara (NCDRC) Aras Satu Bangunan SKTM Universiti Pendidikan Sultan Idris 35900 Tg Malim Perak.

Am I able to give 100% commitment to those lil' cutey... sigh.. Anyhoo..thanks kak Fizah for this info~

I know it seems unbelievable, I'm having a hard time understanding it myself. She went out at 10:00 p.m. last night. I went to sleep shortly after and woke up at 5:30 a.m. I jumped up thinking that my sweet baby must have died in her sleep, because otherwise how would she have been so quiet all night. So I ran into the kids room and looked at her, she had turned completely around so that her feet were at the head of the bed, and I could not see her chest moving. So I put my hand on her tummy and after a few desperate seconds I did feel signs of life.

She was simply asleep. All night. I went back to bed and she finally woke at 7:30 and got into bed with me.

I thought this day would never come. I mean, it's only been 2 years, 4 months and 24 days since I slept for more than 4 hours at a stretch (actually longer since I couldn't sleep at all during the last couple months of that pregnancy).

Now that I've gotten so excited I'll probably be up with her all night tonight, right?

The kids are in the little blow-up pool in the backyard and Caroline is pretending that it is a pond filled with lily pads. She picks up one of the (pretend) lily pads, shows it to Avery and says sweetly, "Look at my beautiful lily pad. Do you see it?"

Avery then picks up the (pretend) lily pad and tightens her hand in a fist. She says to Caroline, "I'm crumbling your beautiful lily pad."

And their imaginary back and forth is ended on that note.

Since we were stopping for a night in the Bay Area for my sister-in-law's 30th birthday extravaganza before heading to Santa Cruz, I thought it might be easier to pack two suitcases, one for each stop.

So, there was a suitcase with clothes and jammies for a day and night in Dublin, then a big rolling duffle bag with jammies and many extra clothes for our two days at the beach. Then there was a tote bag with shoes, a flat iron, blow dryer, Pampers Easy-Ups, etc. And a second tote bag with towels, sunscreen, extra clothes to change the girls into when leaving the beach so they aren't wet and freezing in the car. Also, there was a giant plastic tote full of buckets, shovels, little rakes and such for building castles and digging holes at the beach. Squeezed in the back seat floorboards was a rolling cooler to keep the girls milk and cheese sticks cold (and also to chill the homemade Limoncello I took to the B-Day party). Finally, there was a Dora rolling backpack and a Princess backpack full of toys and woobies. Oh, and several sweatshirts tossed loose into the cargo hold.

How times have changed.

It's another one of those "Things People Don't Tell You Before You Have Kids." That you will not be able to just grab your purse and walk out of the house to go anywhere for at least 5 years.

All the luggage was worth it though, because we had such a good time in Santa Cruz.

Sunday afternoon we went to Twin Lakes State Beach where the girls played in the surf and dug in the sand quite happily despite the windy conditions. Twin Lakes is a really pretty and clean stretch of coastline in Santa Cruz. It was a little cold while we were there, and windy, like I noted, but not too crowded and the girls had a great time. Parking can be iffy at Twin Lakes, but on the plus side there are bonfire rings where you could build a fire and party hearty with your buds if you weren't responsible for two small children.

Monday morning we checked out Wilder Ranch State Park, a very cool park with miles of hiking and biking trails and grounds that include historic Victorian homes, barns, shops, gardens, and an actual adobe. If it had just been the husby and me, we would have taken full advantage of the hiking trails, because the scenery is beautiful. Instead we meandered around the historic buildings and hung out with the chickens. I wish we had gone the day before, because the buildings were not open while we were there. I wanted so badly to go into the Victorian houses, but there were no tours happening. If you do go to Wilder Ranch, check ahead to see if tours are being conducted while you are there and be sure to pack a lunch and take advantage of the picnic tables scattered about.

Later that day we went to New Brighton State Beach in Capitola.  When we first stepped onto the beach, I was doubtful. In fact, for a moment we discussed leaving and going somewhere else. It is kind of dirty, with a little trash here and there and lots of dried gross seaweed underfoot, plus many seagulls wandering around in search of food. But, we decided to park for a bit and let the kids play, and we were really glad that we did. It was nice and warm with very little wind, and the surf was really, really mellow. Perfect for little kids to play in. Caroline and Avery had the best time digging and getting wet and playing with other kids. We stayed for hours and we were able to laugh when a seagull took a Twizzler off of our blanket. A big plus was the bathrooms that were within easy walking distance.  We would definitely go back.

After having Caroline pee in the potty seat in the back of the car (we have learned never to travel without a potty seat in the back), trying to wipe all the sand out of their butt cracks, and changing into some comfortable shorts and tee shirts, we were ready to head home. We had to stop a couple of times (of course) due to hunger and car sickness, but then the kids just zonked out and I got us home in great time. The kids were up until midnight because they slept from 5:00 to 8:00 pm, but c'est la vie.

It was a good trip, even though I am still unpacking and doing laundry from a trip the was only two overnights.

Ah, kids.

I think I only have a few minutes here before we leave, which means no more correspondence until Saturday at least.  My regur

...

That was all that was, apparently, of a correspondence post I was trying to make last...Thursday.  I had written over a paragraph-and-a-half more before I hit "send", whereupon I discovered that McDonald's had dropped its hammer and shut me out from the free connection I had found.  Turns out the "att" network was part of McDonald's somehow.  Lucky for me, I guess, that portion of the post was saved, thanks to beautiful, beautiful Wordpress.

The reason for my correspondence, as I think I might have mentioned but am not sure and am not going to go back to check right now, was that I was in a special place, a magical place, without Internet.  The place is called Zook & Lyter's.  I've been going there ever since I was born, every year, once a year.  I love it there.  Plenty of people, like my brother, may find it boring.  But I just love it up there.  It's the most serene and beautiful place I've ever been, and there's nothing big to it.  It's not a tourist trap.  It's just, there.  Seven cabins by the Juniata River.  A see-saw, sandbox, some swings, some monkey bars, all for the kiddies.  Two docks, canoe rentals, a nearby access area; it's great for fishing, something else we used to do every year with my now late Poppop.  But I don't recommend the sandbox.  It's dirty in there, man.  Beautiful water, beautiful tree-covered mountains just beyond it, beautiful fields and landscapes in general.  White squirrels, though we didn't see any this year.  We did see a skunk though.  And I drove!

I really love Zook & Lyter's.  I'll never get tired of it.  I got the raw inspiration that I expected I'd get when I was up there, but I couldn't make anything of it.  It was too raw.  It came and went before the week was over.  Most of the time I played Super Nintendo games on the laptop.  Though, I did get a summer AP Art assignment started.  I just need to shade some stuff now.

There are Amish there, too.  Now, everytime I say that to someone, they think, "Oh yeah, Lancaster".  NO.  It's not Lancaster, damn it.  It's about an hour or two WEST of Lancaster.  Yeah, undisturbed Amish.  People misunderstand the Amish.  They don't like photos because it's too vain to have a photo taken, not because it'll steal their soul.  They can use electricity, as long as things are battery-operated.  They have a phone.  I mean, they do business with non-Amish.  They get rides in cars.  You don't know Amish.

Or maybe you do.  I don't know.  I don't know you.

I still can picture her in my arms while she's still in 5kg weight. I still can picture her face looking at me with smile on her face without knowing any words to spill. And here today, this little girl has grown up and have a lots to say to her cecima and seems like I don't have to do the talking anymore. huhu.. Miss you lil' chibbi

While in PA we went to a few stores.   I got the Hot Pink & Lime Green napkins for the reception.  The reception provides cloth napkins, but not in my colors so I bought nice Pink & Green ones.  We also went to Davids Bridal...HATE THEM!  But I needed my crinoline and I know I could get one there.  I didn't get the Super big one, just a medium sized one.  My Dress has a built in one, but it needed a bit more umph!  I can't wait to try on my dress with it.  I also ordered this.

It is a set of Sheer Organza Sleeves.  Since I have lost weight my arms are flabbier then I would like.  I am not sure if I will use this, but it will be nice to have as an option.  I seen a fellow Disney bride wearing one a few months ago and it looked so great.  So I went to the Horrible Davids Bridal to order one. The lady helping me didn't disappoint and totally sucked.  At least it is Davids as a whole and not just the horrible Glen Burnie location. 

I had alot of Fun with Nikki, Crystal and the Kids.  Check out all the Pictures HERE.  Of course I have a few Favorites.  Here they are: