AF, go home!

What does a hockey team and a (insert nationality here)girl have in common? They both change their pads after the third period. YUCK! Aunt Flo, riding the cotton pony, on the rag, whatever you choose to call it, it SUCKS! I should know. When I was the delicate age of 10, I was blessed with the curse of womanhood. Wearing a bra and wearing a pad became synonomous with pain in the ass. At only 10, I was forced to tether myself to a heating pad to alleviate the horrible monthly alien that ravaged me. I passed out in the bathroom one summer day and my mom was forced to drag me to the hospital for an ultrasound of my aching innards. She made me drink 5 gallons of water in the 10 minutes I had before we had to leave for the hospital. Apparently, you have to have to be very full of water in order for an ultrasound to show anything. Consequently, I nearly peed in the car, I nearly peed in the entry of the hospital, I nearly peed in the wheelchair they had to drive me to the third floor in. Upon getting naked for the test, the tech told me I could go pee not once, but twice. Needless to say, the test revealed nothing. Kotex and myself were the only ones not in agreement.
Moving on a few months, my doctor was convinced this would all blow over, WRONG! You would think that just thinking about your period would not be enough to trigger its onset. You would be wrong. I would bleed at the drop of a hat. Praying in church set off the Red Sea and not the one you are thinking of. Running in PE, loosened whatever dam held back the flow. I was truly miserable! I was 10 mind you!
Armed with a PE waiver due to medical issues, no shit, I was given an RX for birth control pills. This RX lasted 28 years! I was sure my girly pieces/parts were not only faulty but now disconnected with the rest of me.
Luckily, I became pregnant very quickly with Mia. Of course, Bobby and I were newlyweds and humping like a couple of rabbits for the month we conceived. It was fun, no period for 9 months and perhaps beyond. (Ha, Ha! You thought I meant the sex!) The no period period lasted almost 4 years! So, now that Mia can potty on her own, we decided to go for it again! Go off the pill and have sex like a couple of high schoolers. I have been off the pill since late October. Things with Aunt Flo were reasonable til this month. I got hideously painful cramps while we were at dinner on New Years Eve. It hurt when I coughed so much I thought that my vital organs were on their way out. Woke up with my period, Happy New Years!
Got me period again. This time it was January 25th. Hmmmm, thought I was supposed to get it only once a month?

Too pooped to pop!

I want another baby. I am getting up there in age and just feel that it is a last chance effort before I totally quit having sex. No, not really, I just would like to try and have another baby. My baby isn't a baby anymore, she can dress herself, although it is a style that only she subscribes to, and can finally go potty on her own as well as a bunch of other neat 3 year old things. I figure there is no better time like the present to try and procreate! Well, after some cajoling, the husband is on board. This was back in November. Fast forward to January, the baby dancing isn't quite going as well as I had hoped. For one thing, I am way too tired to have sex after about 10pm. Kind of makes it hard, or not, so to speak. It almost takes too much energy to even talk about sex. Which makes we wonder why I am so keen on having a baby. I chalk it up to the fact that the lack of sleep, diapers and sore nipples will pass and I will be left with a sweet little child that loves me unconditionally or until the need for his/her therapy arises.

Give me shoes or give me death!

My wonderful, little, 3 year old daughter loves shoes! She loves them so much that she requested boots and the new fuzzy Crocs, just like Dad's, only pink, for her birthday. I am wondering where she got this intense desire for shoes! LOL! I wasn't aware this type of gene existed. When I was around 5 or 6, I was forced by the evil doctor to wear "special" shoes because I had no arch. My parents had to make an actual appointment with the shoestore for me to get fitted. We got to be escorted into our very own special shoeroom. I always had the same nice man fit me with the most HORRENDOUS shoes I have ever seen! I had tennies that looked like red, white and blue bowling shoes. There are pictures so I know they existed! Because of this arch problem, I was unable to wear sandals. The horror! We lived in Texas and everyone was wearing sandals. Jelly sandals, flip flops, thong sandals, every kind of sandals! Not me. I remember vividly crying, screaming and acting like a fool at 7 years of age because, damnit all, I wanted sandals. Cheap ones from Kmart, I didn't care. Well, wouldn't you know? The ugly shoestore had finally managed to make some hideously unfashionable sandals! My mom, tired of my ranting, raving, teeth gnashing behavior, caved and spent, what I am sure was a fortune on these sandals. White with a couple of buckles and that lovely arch bump. I wore the hell out of them. As the years passed, I liked shoes even more. I could wear whatever I desired, and I did. From expensive tennis shoes to lime green Kenneth Cole's, my shoe wardrobe paralleled that of Imelda's. I am still quite the shoe woman and I can see my Mia is following in my footsteps, LOL! She plays in her shoes as well as mine. Who can ask for more than that?

Insert sad face here

I am sad for my friend! A man she loved dearly has disappointed her to the point of leaving him. This isn't to say there aren't extenuating circumstances that need to be addressed but you always feel a sense of loss when you split with someone. I feel it too. When I receive email from her, I can feel her pain, the sense of loneliness that comes from leaving someone close. We have all been there, hearts aching, eyes brimming with tears that come as soon as you hit the pillow, an empty feeling in the pit of our stomachs. Only time can heal this type of wound, however, our hearts don't tell time and are unaware of the pain that every ounce of our body feels every time we pass a restaurant we ate at, a movie we once watched together or a song on the radio that was our favorite. I can only hope that my friend and her man can work things out. That he gets the help that he desperately needs to in order to maintain a healthy relationship and healthy family life. That he can make her happy til the end of their days. I am hoping for him...

Oh, the woes!

Mia is 2 1/2. I am thinking it is time to stop paying for diapers and let's potty train! What the hell was I thinking? I don't have a Potty PhD and apparently never will. This has been more complicated than trying to figure out whether we should have kids or not. I thought the first order of business should be panty buying. Not just an ordinary thong will do for a toddler! Off we went to Toys R' Us for big girl panties. I let her peruse the display of every known cartoon character that ever appeared on underwear. She, of course, picked the Elmo ones, didn't even need a second look. She calls them, "Mo DD pannies." It is very cute. Next, we get a potty chair and even a "Mo DD" potty seat for the big potty, just trying to cover all the bases. If she wants to go in a bush, I will buy one of those too. I stayed home every day for a week trying to get the potty training taken care of. It went pretty well. She told me when she was ready to pee and I set her on the big potty. She went, got a sticker and moved on. Then, one day she decided no more Mo DD pannies! Lo and behold, we were not pottying in the potty anymore. I felt like a failure. My 2 year old can't, or won't, pee in the big potty, not even with snack bribes or a brand new Coach bag. Nothing. So, here I sit with a case of diapers and daughter that tells me when she needs a diaper change. No, worries, she still has a couple of years before kindergarten so maybe I will still have time.

Working on my fitness...

Up until this past week, I was visiting my local Y three times a week. A fellow mommy persuaded me to go sit on a bike with her for 20 minutes. Twenty minutes isn't really anything. For one thing, I never broke a sweat. Truly the only thing that happened from this semi-workout, is that Mia would become hysterical in the Kid Zone nursery. She was getting the workout, not me. Granted, I don't think a raging crying fit burns many calories. Eventually, I started going alone, sometimes meeting up and sometimes not. I found that I can do an hour of pretty good cardio without feeling like I am going to die. It feels good to sweat and my skin looks great! Well, I am also supposed to be lifting weights for, what my trainer calls, "toning." I think he is full of crap! My boobs are already big enough, thank you, very much. It is nice to be at the Y first thing in the morning. The only people there are elderly men that can use the Arc machine better than me, the fitness freaks(you know the ones, tight clothes, run for an hour at the highest speed on the treadmill) and firemen. Hmmm... I am hoping that if I keel over on the Arc, that at the very least a nice looking firemen comes to rescue me.

Money, money, money

Yesterday, my beloved and I were at our home away from home, or as it is called in the retail world, the Coleman outlet. It is a place that commonly finds us dropping large sums of money all in the pursuit of the most excellent camping experience. I abhor camping, unless there is a good firm, king size bed and a spacious bathroom within the "tent." Anyway, I was standing around watching Mia dismantle the insulated cup display, when I saw money laying in front of the cash register area. I walked over and could clearly see that it was a $100 bill! I don't see them regularly so I looked at it and told the check out guy that someone lost their money. He seemed to remember it was a guy that bought a stove and had a wad of bills. He was long gone. He put the money aside and told his manager and they agreed to hold it out, for when the guy came back. While the thought of keeping the money never entered my mind, my question is will the guy think that he lost $100 at the Coleman store? What will they do with it, if he doesn't come back? Honestly, I don't think that the employee should keep it but I don't know if I deserve it either. It wasn't long ago that I was sitting in the school parking lot and watched some money blow out of a mom's pocket. I rushed out to get it before it blew away. It was a $20 bill. The lady checked her pocket and realized she also was missing a $5 bill. I ran back to her car and there it was. I gave it to her and she was thankful. It seems that I have been finding quite a bit of money lately. It would seem that my honesty is being tested. I believe that I have passed and am wondering what the next test will be. Lord, please don't let it be patience!