tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89112886178761962222024-03-13T06:14:55.510-07:00Wildly Picking Up Children Along The WaySelf-imposed therapy for dealing with my rapidly and wildly changing life. Perhaps even some funny reading for others.Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.comBlogger76125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-90232723684691824002013-09-30T10:25:00.000-07:002013-09-30T10:25:18.221-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RNFfBdYowvk/UkmzCCOD0bI/AAAAAAAAACg/n_zg4YVukAc/s1600/2013-09-29+22.05.54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RNFfBdYowvk/UkmzCCOD0bI/AAAAAAAAACg/n_zg4YVukAc/s320/2013-09-29+22.05.54.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Copied from my Facebook. Sorry it's been so long since the last post. Will explain later. But first, an adventure!</span></div>
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<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1318303743&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3A0%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/peter.powell.144?directed_target_id=0"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Peter Powell</strong></span></a><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>, </strong></span><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100003578082017&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3A0%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/tony.gage.77?directed_target_id=0"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Tony Gage</strong></span></a><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong> and I had quite the adventure this weekend. It began with my mom, </strong></span><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=100000851251785&extragetparams=%7B%22directed_target_id%22%3A0%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/elizabeth.rodriguez.5209?directed_target_id=0"><span style="color: #674ea7; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Elizabeth Rodriguez</strong></span></a><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong><span style="color: #674ea7;"> coming over to watch the kids with help from my dad. This allowed for me to accompany the men to the Wednesday 13 concert at Tricky Falls in El Paso, Texas. We dressed accordingly and if you know Wednesday 13, you know what I mean. We decided to make a full circle by going through Alamogor<span class="text_exposed_show">do, NM to get there and returning through Carlsbad, NM. We first stopped for coffee at the Travel Center in Mescalero. While standing outside drinking our coffee and Pete & Tony smoking, an elderly lady saw us and sort of freaked out. Shortly after she went into the casino, out came security guards who began "keeping an eye on us". After a few minutes, I guess when they decided we weren't a threat, they went back inside. Then we stopped in Alamogordo at the Hi-D-Ho for some burgers. Within five minutes, the whispers and sideways glances began. So whenever one of them would look over their shoulder at us, Pete would make eye contact then wave at them with a friendly, "Hi there. How're you doing?" Then the person would make an uncomfortable smile and say an embarrassed hi and quickly turn back around. He did that twice. We got our burgers and started to leave but not before Pete rolled down the window and leaned out to wave and yelled, "Thank you Alamogordo, you've been a great audience!" We proceeded to the concert and had an awesome time. Hung out with the band afterwards and got a few surprises for our home and our radio listeners. Then it was time to head home. We were about to get on the highway when the driver next to us, who was in a right turn only lane decided he wanted to go straight and hit the side of our car. Then he drove around us cussing and flipping us off, which was returned to him. He was driving in front of us weaving back and forth, having trouble staying in his lane. We realized he was drunk and were so glad we weren't in a worse accident with him. Stopped at Taco Cabana for a snack and left El Paso. I started taking a nap in the back but then woke up upon reaching the border patrol checkpoint. Apparently, the drug dog alerted to our car and we were asked to pull over and park, show ID, leave the vehicle and sit on a bench while the officers and the dog went through the car. We had to empty our pockets and answer questions. One officer said to us, "If you smoked any pot, we really don't care, just let us know." Okay, so we don't smoke pot. We barely drink. But one has to wonder if people really implicate themselves with that question. Then Pete and Tony ask if they can smoke while we're waiting and they are told they can. The wind begins to blow and Pete starts shivering with cold. All I can think, and you'll have to forgive my language here, is "My God. He's shaking like a guilty crack addict, we're so fucked!" By now, there are six officers standing beside us while two and the dog are going through the car. One officer asks us what concert we went to and when we told him Wednesday 13, he totally geeked out! Told him about the concert and the souvenier we got (which, okay, came from the band and may be what triggered the dog). He is seriously standing there all excited talking to us while the other officers are staring at him as if thinking, "Dude, what the fuck are you talking to them for? We're trying to be intimidating." And then, they let us go because neither they nor the dog found anything. So we start driving to Carlsbad and I went back to sleep. About ninety miles before Carlsbad, the guys wake me up because the car is doing something funny. It's losing power and lurching or slowing down. When Pete would apply the gas it would speed up but then all the lights inside and outside the car would go out plunging us into complete darkness at 65 miles an hour. He would then tap the break and the lights would come on only to have the car lurching again. It was decided we would stop in Carlsbad because Pete didn't want to stop in the middle of nowhere and chance the car dying. The rest of the ride to Carlsbad was in panicked silence. We hit every red light and the car sputtered while Pete had one foot on the break and the other on the gas to try to keep the car going. We parked at my Carlsbad office because it's a government building with a large parking lot. I figured no one would bother us and there was plenty of space if we needed to get a tow truck. By then, it was 4:30 in the morning. We got out of the car and looked under the hood but then figured we'd just sleep in the car till the sun came up and look in the daylight. AT 7 we all woke up. Took a look at the car, started it up and then... the transmission light came on! Pete turned the car off and called Geico road assistance. It would be an hour before the tow truck got to us. Tony and I walked to the Alsups for the bathroom and some much needed coffee. When the tow truck arrived, Pete told him what was going on and he recommended taking us to a place that would do their best to get us on our way same day. We regaled him the tale of our adventure and had him laughing his lungs out. He took us to Atwood's Automotive which I highly recommended to anyone who needs car care in Carlsbad! While they worked on our car, we walked the streets of downtown Carlsbad for breakfast and bathrooms, had some ice cream and met some nice people. Also spent some time working on our radio script. Atwood's had the car fixed by 1pm. They were the nicest people and the lady in the office had two beautiful children, one a little girl with goth interests and a love of owls. We answered her questions and told her it was great to be your own person. I gave her my owl charm. We got on the road and made it home to loving children by 3:30. Plenty of time to laugh and visit and spend some time with the kids. It could've been a very scary adventure, but we handled it with laughter and I couldn't be happier to have shared it with two wonderful men. Thanks, Peter and Tony for making it a fun adventure instead of a scary series of unfortunate events. I love you guys!</span></span></strong></span></span></div>
Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-64109670586325023812012-05-11T08:56:00.002-07:002012-05-11T08:56:29.853-07:00Feeling better...<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Finally starting to feel better. Got a huge, unplanned, but getting used to it, surprise at the beginning of March. We are pregnant with what will be our sixth child. </span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I cried for three days straight.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And then I felt extremely guilty about it and went deeper into the abyss.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To the point that it started affecting my work. Especially on the 17th through the 19th of April. I stopped being able to recognize that the person talking was me. It was not pretty.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I finally called for help and should be seeing someone soon. And surprisingly to me, just admitting I need help and finally making that phone call, has me feeling better.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I also changed prenatal vitamins. I stopped taking the ones with an herbal supplement. Went for about a week without any. And then found gummy prenatals which are AWESOME! I love them. The smell doesn't make me want to vomit, they taste great, and they don't give me indigestion. </span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Also, Artie got hand, foot, and mouth and had to be out of child care for nearly a week. So I got almost a week off work.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I FEEL SO MUCH BETTER.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm so lucky to have such great bosses!</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm so blessed to have such a supportive and loving husband!</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm starting to feel happy about this gift from heaven growing inside me!</span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On a lighter note...</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mother's Day is coming this weekend and I am looking forward to spending some time with the moms in my life. I also got a small reminder the other day about life as a mom.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Trying to attend to nature one afternoon and my toddler starts knocking on the door crying for mommy.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And just off the cuff I started singing... (to the Beatles's "Let it be.")</span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Let me pee,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Let me pee,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Let me pee, oh, let me pee.</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Give me some privacy,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Let me pee-ee!</span></strong><br />
<br />
<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was so funny, if I hadn't already been on the potty, I would've peed myself with laughter (and a baby bouncing on my bladder).</span></strong><br />
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<strong><span style="color: purple; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hope all is well and all the mom's out there have a great mother's day!</span></strong>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-24591112473364850592011-11-16T15:35:00.001-08:002011-11-17T09:46:03.317-08:00It's a gray day<div>I'm having one of those gray days. Except, this grayness has lasted for a few months. I'm to the point where I just want to stay in my pajamas, under the covers of my bed and the rest of the world be damned. This is not a good feeling.</div><div>And I think I'm to the point where I need help.</div><div>I don't want to plan dinner, or go to rehearsal, or be on the computer, or go to work, or eat, or talk, or even have people I love come to visit. I want the world to just stop for a moment (as long a moment as I want) so that I can just lay there and not have to think about anything and just have a long cry. </div><div>All hope is not lost, I do still want to smell my baby's hair, or have my children sit still in my lap, or go outside to walk. Except the walk includes the urge to just keep going. Down the street, past the orchards</div>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-13450004809604200122011-09-14T10:07:00.000-07:002011-09-14T10:55:43.018-07:00The Skinnier Me...then Opps!<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#330099;">I tend to believe that everything that happens, happens for a reason or because of karma.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330099;">Friday of last week, I fit into size 8 pants. Yea!!! I was so proud. I was verbally proud.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330099;">Friday night was opening night of the play I'm currently in. A few minor hiccups, but it all went well.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330099;">Saturday night had a few more hiccups, but we persevered and made it to the ending scene...where I lost my skirt!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330099;">Seriously. One minute I'm throwing scraps of papers into the fireplace and the next I feel a funny tickle on my ankle. I looked down and saw my skirt. I reached down and pulled my skirt and said my line with a little bit of a suppressed giggle, "So much suffering already in the world, I can't bear for there to be anymore." Yep, bear (bare). Which only enticed the audience to laugh even more. Now this play is not a comedy, but the following lines of "...do not think that I shall ever forget," and "Neither shall I forget," caused even more laughter and I'm sure the audience shall never forget either!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330099;">To top it all off, the following people were in the audience: two of the well seasoned directors I have yet to work with (they were proud of how I handled it), the woman who baby sits my children, one of the owners of the bank my husband works for, one of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">VPs</span> of said bank, and the secretary of the President of the bank.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330099;">To date, my cheeks are still warm and glowing from <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">embarrassment</span>. </span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330099;">I safety-pinned my skirt to my blouse for the Sunday matinee.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330099;">I also told my husband to mention to his bank that our theatre company would love any donation which would help us move into our new building and perhaps have costumes that fit better. I figured I might as well beg for donations while I had their attention.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#330099;">Well, skirt and all, I am glad to be losing the baby weight and slowly getting back to my old self. Though now I won't take so much pride in it. Maybe.</span>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-40419249417315530252011-06-27T15:12:00.000-07:002011-06-27T15:53:25.251-07:00Monday, WTH!<strong><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#006600;">In my defense, this doesn't happen often and no children were harmed in the making of this Monday <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">WTH</span> (What the Heck).</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Also, I do realize how blessed I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">truely</span> am in having such lovely neighbors who would brave having someone they only recently met see them in their pajamas on the first day of their vacation.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Yesterday, I used my keys to start the minivan. I was not the one driving, my husband was. But I turned on the car out of impatience because it was seriously like 106 degrees outside, so the inside was like 400! The air conditioner in my van is wonderful and works so well that sometime I have to turn it off so I can defrost the kids to get them out. My husband drove us home after the movie and did not put my keys where I put them.<em><u> I</u></em> always (okay, usually) use the clip on my keys to latch them onto my purse so I don't lose them.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I was notorious in college for never knowing where my keys were. My husband knows this about me; it's not something new. </span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">He put my keys on the dining room table. I'm sure you can see where this is heading.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">This morning, I gathered our children and ushered them out the door carrying the baby with Josie trailing behind me. I asked her to close the front door but to make sure it was locked.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">"Is it locked?"</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">"I don't know, it's sorta like this" - makes hand gesture to show up & down.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">"Then it's not locked, you need to turn it."</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">"Okay, mom, it's locked."</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Then we got in the van and I grabbed the loop of my purse to get my keys...</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">No keys...</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">NO KEYS! Not to the van, the house, nothing. I think fast but there are no ways (that won't cause damage to my beautiful house) to break into my house to get the keys.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">(Deep breath) Fine, I'll just call Daddy...</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">No Phone! </span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Blink.....blink.....open car door and walk in a circle around the van...get back in van. (I seriously have no idea what good I thought that would do)</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">"Okay, everyone wait here while I go to the neighbor's house to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">borrow</span> their phone to call Daddy."</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">So I went to my neighbor's house and rang the doorbell. After an eternity, I started to walk away but heard the latch on the door being moved so I jumped back in front of the door. My gentleman neighbor poked his head from around the door and I very sheepishly told him about my misadventure and could I please use his phone to call my husband. He asked me to hold on just a moment and closed the door. His wife then open the door and invited me in while she tried to figure out how to unlock her new blackberry so I could call Daddy. She was in a housecoat and her husband was coming down the hall buttoning his shorts. Eventually we had to use her husband's phone and I called Daddy hoping he would answer even if he didn't recognize the number.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">"Hello?"</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">"Hi, honey. It's me. Um, I'm locked out of the house and can't start the car."</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">"They're on the table."</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">"Uh-huh. Remember you were using my keys..."</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">"I'll be there in five minutes."</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">"Thanks, honey. I love you."</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">My lovely neighbors offered me a ride, which I declined because I needed to get the kids off to their various <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">daycares</span>. So then they offered to let me drive one of their cars. I didn't think people like this still existed! Thank God I live next to such fine people. I thanked them very much and told them my husband would be here soon and I had to get back to the kids.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">I believe I've learned a few things today:</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">never be so impatient for the AC as to use my keys to turn on the car when I am not the one driving.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">never assume the keys are where they are supposed to be</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">to find a place to hide an extra key</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;">and to thank God again for such amazing neighbors!</span></strong>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-13230901001233828102011-06-27T15:08:00.000-07:002011-06-27T15:12:11.456-07:00Daddy: "Where was the scorpion?"In the upstairs hall above the bathroom door. I can honestly say it took me about ten minutes to kill it. Ten seconds to whack it with the fly swatter, two seconds to realize that didn’t work, twenty seconds trying to squish it in half using the edge of the fly swatter as it frantically tried to sting the shiny purple plastic, five seconds to release it in the hopes that it would stick to the fly swatter, five seconds watching it fall to the floor still alive and intact while screaming “IT FELL, IT FELL, IT FELL”, three seconds to jump off the kitchen stool and stomp it to near oblivion with my foot safely caressed in your ugly boots. I believe fifteen seconds were spent on moving the boxes Josie put in the hall, delaying the inevitable by requesting the fly swatter followed by asking for the kitchen stool and tucking in the laces on the boots. The other nine minutes consisted of me trying (successfully until the scream) to maintain my composure, finding my courage to even GO up the stairs, while inside there was another version of myself running around in a panic screaming, “OHMYGODTHERE’SASCORPIONUPSTAIRSANDMYKIDSNEEDMETOKILLIT!” followed by a fleeting thought that perhaps I could call you to come kill the freaking scorpion while looking at the scorpion wishing it didn’t exist.<br />~The e-mail to my husband to answer his question.Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-30635283153270165952011-04-22T14:13:00.000-07:002011-04-22T14:46:57.191-07:00(Wo-)Man's Best Friend<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8vB86b9vwWs/TbH3Q7QpMzI/AAAAAAAAACI/5WhsvCo681k/s1600/Sir%2BSlash.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598527681955705650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 319px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8vB86b9vwWs/TbH3Q7QpMzI/AAAAAAAAACI/5WhsvCo681k/s320/Sir%2BSlash.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><strong><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;color:#000099;">My Dearest Sir Slash,</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#000099;">Sweet canine friend, I will miss our walks through the neighborhood. Actually, I really miss them already. I miss the smell of your fur after you've had a bath and the way you would nuzzle me just like a cat. I miss you greeting me at my bed each morning when Daddy would come to wake me up and I miss you curling up behind my knees when I would give the children their morning cuddles on the couch. I even miss having to chase you each time someone let you out of the yard. But the memory I will cherish most of all is when you would lay your head on my tummy while I was pregnant and then look at me with bewilderment when that little someone kicked.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#000099;">I hope, dear friend, that we will meet again and that you are enjoying running the meadows of heaven. Your passing took me by surprise as did my reaction. I didn't realize just how much you had touched my life in the short time you were mine. Even now, several weeks later, my eyes fill with tears and writing this is difficult. I have been meaning to get this out but I haven't because thinking about it hurts so much. But holding it in doesn't honor your loyalty or your life. I want to thank you for sharing your life with me and my family. You are truly one of the best of God's creatures and I will always love you and remember you fondly.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#000099;">Eternally,</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:130%;color:#000099;">Your Human Mommy</span></strong> </div>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-5623782507351031182011-03-28T10:57:00.000-07:002011-03-28T14:46:49.864-07:00Two Conflicting BeesOkay, so I'm not talking about actual bees. My two conflicting <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">B's</span> are Breastfeeding and Blood-sugar. Specifically, low blood-sugar. When I am good, as in I have been eating regularly - not skipping meals, not overly stressed, not overly active, getting my normal 7 hours of sleep, my blood-sugar is pretty normal. When I "forget" I have to be conscience of my time/meals/etc, things can and have gotten pretty bad. Those who have had episodes of low blood-sugar can attest to the various situations they have found themselves in. My own have not been pretty. I can honestly say the worst was sitting outside the grocery store, crying my eyes out, waiting for my best friend to come and help me remember what it was that I needed to do there (cash my paycheck and buy milk, flour and bananas for a pancake breakfast I was hosting the next day). I remember feeling so stupid. Had I been paying attention, I would've remembered to eat my 4 o'clock snack and not skip it thinking I'd have time later. Lately, however, my mistake has been not compensating my body's needs with the fact that I have been feeding another human being. I am a full-time breastfeeding mama. I don't use formula if I can help it - my body is (so far) keeping up with this baby but I did have to <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">supplement</span> when B-Boy was a baby. Little Artie is still too young for cereal, so his nutritional needs are completed by me. And it has been a hard road with this blood sugar thing. I go to the child care center to feed Little Artie at lunch. If I forget to pack a lunch, I go feed him first and then try to make it somewhere to pick up something. But by the time I feed the baby and leave, I only have 15-20 minutes of my lunch hour left. And if my blood sugar is too low, I have a very difficult time trying to decide where to go or what to eat. And heaven forbid a repeat of two weeks ago. My hubby said he's bring me lunch, so I went to feed the baby. An hour and a half later, he came with my lunch. I'm proud of the fact that I didn't kill him. My office-mates are really glad he finally showed up because the delay in lunch had not made me a pleasant person to be around. Sort of how a hungry lion gets when you dangle a piece of meat in front of the cage and don't deliver. So now I'm starting to get really good about taking lunch with me. Then I eat the sandwich on the way to the center, feed the baby, and eat the fruit on the way back to the office. So far, as long as I keep my snacks at their regular time, this has been working. It's just so annoying having to relearn my body <u>again</u>.Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-26702229811870901232011-02-04T20:43:00.000-08:002011-02-04T21:33:35.246-08:00Sparked - Simple Evening<strong><span style="color:#000066;">Walking through the bookstore, heading towards the crowded checkout counter to purchase the ornithology book my thirteen year old needed, Sparks caught my eye. Nicholas Sparks. I've enjoyed a couple of his tear-inducing movies and a thought entered my mind that a book might be nice. It has been too long since I've gifted myself a tome of literature. Next to Sparks was Niffeneger. I have this book but lent it to a friend greatly in need of hope, romance, and the need to lose herself if only for a moment. I wonder if she's had the chance to read it. How long has it been? Dorian Gray. The name on the spine is familiar. I remember at one point in my life wishing for a son by that name, Dorian, because it sounds like a smoky grey song. To me, music is seen in colors and felt in fabrics. But I did not name my sons Dorian because there were stronger names meant for them. Family names. I pull the book from the shelf and notice the price is only $3.99. For an amount equal to twenty minutes of my time I could own a piece of great literature which would be a part of me for a lifetime. A few pennies more than the chai latte with soy I would purchase a few minutes later and I would have another book to pass to my brilliant children. Do I spoil them? Does giving them volumes beyond those perceived by others to be appropriate reading for their grade level make them more prone to teasing? I pray the benefits of accelerated reading outweigh the few years of torment they must endure when their peers realized that their intelligence is not an act. For now, thirteen must endure it because she reads at a college level while her "friends" are still struggling through eighth grade. In the back of my mind I know we are pinching pennies. Five children to feed, a new house which I only just paid the deposit on this morning. But $3.99 Dorian Gray is looking through me, touching the heart that loves the written word, tempting me with promises of words and phrases, quotes that I would finally understand, meanings that would enhance who it is that I really am. I hold the book, warm and smooth and precious. A few shelves over, a colorful cover catches my eye and I squat down to see what it is when I notice a small black and white cover in a pattern much like the feathers of an ostrich. It is a book of sudoku puzzles but in a wordless cover that is flocked in black. A pleasure for the senses - touch and sight. Again, $3.99. High above the shelves I notice a sign. I've discovered the bargain book wall - 75% off. My heart leaps with joy at this simple discovery. People my size rarely look up that high. It seems my world is always looking up and I enjoy my own time when I can look at my own level. So surely this is a discovery. I take a small step back from the books and I see just how vast this treasure trove really is. Authors I know, most I don't. All of them just waiting to be discovered. My new home has built in shelves. So many books could find a home there. I take my two treasures and the beautiful book of birds to the less crowded counter of the bookstore cafe. I learn that I can purchase the books and my tea there. I pay, I sit. I crack open Dorian Gray and learn the sad tale of his author. Will anyone ever read my story? I'd like to think it's a happy story. I always seems happy. One of thirteen's teachers says I should write a book on how to be happy. If she only knew the truth. She would cry. I am happy today because I don't believe in being sad. I've been there. God helped me find my way out. He gave me children to live for. He gave me supportive parents and set me still long enough to find the man who was meant for me. I am only great and happy because I've not got the right to be sad. I survived it. I will write it when I am ready, for now I will just live it. My tea arrives and I hold the warm cup, warm books (I did not want a bag) and head out into the cold. This is not weather we are used to in New Mexico - ice and snow. My car is warm. I drive past the house that will soon house my new treasures. I have plans for that house. It will be our home. It will hear our laughter, children playing, dancing in the kitchen, the new baby crying. Friends will come to eat and talk and play cards. We'll have epic Halloween parties. It looks beautiful in the snow. I pull into the driveway of the home I've shared with my family for three years. Six people, one bathroom. It's been fun and leaving is bittersweet. I love this house. I have promised to try to find a nice family for it. I almost wish we didn't have to leave but our girls are becoming teenagers and they need more privacy. New baby makes seven now with one bathroom and I'd really appreciate taking a shower without having to leave the door unlocked. I miss my privacy too. I hand the book of birds to thirteen. She takes it in her hands and presses her head to it. "Thank you mom." She notices I've got two other books and I can see her interest. It makes me proud. Then she says good night and kisses me on the check, still with her book in her hands. She tells me I smell like gingerbread. </span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#000066;">And I smile.</span></strong>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-77146541408171330652010-11-18T13:20:00.000-08:002010-11-18T13:32:08.558-08:00My Sweet Little Gentleman<span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;">I have a sweet little gentleman and I'm not completely sure how that came about. He has begun to open my car door for me everywhere we go. He checks up on me every few minutes to make sure the baby and I are doing well. He's even gotten up in the middle of the night to check on me. He's only four years old! My little B-Boy has become a perfectly sweet little gentleman. I'm sure he's been watching his father, but I never expected him to take so much care of me. He'll even ask me if I need him to scratch my back and on more than one occasion, he's just come to me and started to brush my hair. I must be the luckiest mommy in the whole world.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;">My little gentleman will be five in just one more month. He is so excited to be getting a baby brother as an early birthday present. He surprises me with everything he is learning and with how dare-devilish he can be. And his understanding of the world around him? He pointed to a car last night that he really likes and said, "When I grow up and get a job, that's the car I'm going to buy." When I pulled over the car to see if our eldest wanted to try to pull into the driveway (she said no) he told her it wasn't that scary and she was old enough but "I have to wait until I'm older." No whining, no crying, no bartering about wanting to drive. He completely understands that there are just some things he has to wait for. He is learning patience. It's a big thing to learn for someone so little. He amazes me everyday!</span>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-7999669972550562952010-11-05T10:42:00.000-07:002010-11-05T11:02:56.854-07:00On a scale of 1 to 10, YOU are an 11!<strong><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;">Eleven.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;">On a Friday eleven years ago, a beautiful angel came into my life and made me a mommy. It was such a wonderful occasion that they held a parade the morning after. Granted it was the Veteran's Day parade, but it was still a parade and it was just after my angel's birth. So beautiful, she smiled at me right away. The first to hold her, other than the doctor and nurses, was her grandmother. They have had a special bond ever since, it's beautiful to watch. Her other grandmother was waiting patiently and it was love at first sight. They, too, share a special bond.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;">My angel has been my life. Without her, I would not have left a difficult situation. She saved me and has helped me grow not just as a mom, but as a human being. Through her, I have learned patience. I have learned to let my creativity grow without being afraid of what other people think. I have learned to appreciate again with child-like wonder the song of a bird, color of a rainbow, and the warmth of the sunshine.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;">She is now officially taller than me! She is playing the violin and doing so well in school. I love when she comes home with some new piece of fact, "Mom, did you know...." Some things I do, some things I don't. She does take after me in many ways - still doesn't know how to ride a two wheel bike. I'm hoping to teacher her after the baby comes, she's less afraid now than before.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;">Eleven. Where did time go?</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#6600cc;"></span></strong>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-81206246563813000982010-10-14T14:54:00.000-07:002011-11-17T09:48:42.665-08:00I want to cry, but I don't<div><div><font color="#000099" size="4" face="georgia">I have a sort of clenching feeling in my chest and I feel like my eyeballs are about to burst. If I let myself, I will cry. Not tears of sadness or even of the tremendous joy I feel. Tears of utter frustrations and confusion of what I should do. I have a beautiful child, Josie. She can be the sweetest little girl in the whole wide world, especially when she wants something from you or if we are around people she likes (who usually have something she wants). </font></div><br /><div><font color="#000099" size="4" face="georgia">But when we are alone and I need her to be a big eight year old girl and clean her room, brush her hair, or any of the other things she is more than capable of doing, she becomes a nightmare. And I don't mean that she's kicking and screaming or throwing a tantrum. That would be easy, I've been through that with each of the other children. She becomes what I can only think of as passive-aggressive. Everything has to be repeated over and over. She is constantly distracted. She won't clean her room, she'll fall asleep under her bed. She will only brush her hair... to a point. Homework has to be carefully watched and checked because she won't do it. Timeouts, don't work. Physical discipline, doesn't work. Grounding her from playtime with friends, doesn't work because she doesn't have any friends. Taking away toys, books, outside time doesn't work because she doesn't care. Even the opposite, giving rewards for completing a task, doesn't work. And if I do get upset with her and send her to her room, I have a bloody mess to clean up because she will rub, scratch, pick her nose or any other place on her body till she bleeds; and she doesn't cry when she does it. I almost don't believe the child feels pain, just like she can't feel if the shower is too hot or cold.</font></div><br /><div><font color="#000099" size="4">The worst part is that I don't feel like anyone understands how difficult she can be. I believe that because she is such a sweet child around other adults, they just can't believe how difficult she can be. Even her pediatrician tried to blame our dry air and not putting Neosporin in her nose for the nosebleeds. It took me telling her three different times before she understood that the child gives herself the nosebleeds. We have a humidifier, we use Neosporin, but I cannot keep the child from making herself bleed the minute I turn my back. It should not be this hard to convince people. I should not be made to feel like I'm overexaggerating because she's a damn good little actress. I even have a hard time gettting my own husband to believe how difficult she can be. The only person who I know understands is my mom. My mom has seen this little girl in action when she doesn't think anyone is looking. And if looks could kill from this girl, I'd be dead ten times over. My mom doesn't fall for her "I don't understand" or "I need help doing this" bologna. And I just feel so frustrated that I'm ready to cry. I need help.</font></div></div>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-55519338012531845702010-10-01T16:00:00.001-07:002010-10-05T15:28:11.571-07:00October, I love you!<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#993300;">I love October!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;">If October were a guy, it would be the perfect guy for me: not too hot, not too cold, smells good, has beautiful sounds and colors, awesome events like the Balloon Festival, State Fairs, Halloween, that added bit of expectation at the beginning of the holiday season, and mystery.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;">Today being the first of October, came with much good news and an extra dose of expectation. We are now one less obstacle away from relaxing about the finances. We also have our date for the arrival of our newest baby boy! December 7th! I'm so excited that I might just stay up tonight and bake the pumpkin pie I've been craving! I am so looking forward to meeting this little boy who's been growing, kicking, rolling and causing heartburn for the last seven months. As we have said this is our last pregnancy, I am enjoying every minute of it. We even (finally) gained some weight... 3 pounds. Hey, it's a start. I look huge, at least to myself. Other people have other opinions. Some say I'm huge and look like I'm gonna pop any minute and others are shocked by how small I am. I even had a lady yesterday who sees me about every two weeks who was surprised to find out I was really pregnant! I already love this little boy and his brother, B-boy, already loves him too. I've notice that if B-boy is sleeping in my bed, he and his little brother both wiggle and kick in their sleep if I'm rolled onto my left side. B-boy sleeps on the right. But if I roll right and they are next to each other, they both sleep peacefully. I think the little boy bond is already happening. I'm looking forward to the days when they'll be happily walking side by side together.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;">The weather has already turned into that lovely combination of cool mornings and tolerable afternoons followed by perfectly lovely evenings. I wish I could sleep outside. I've already begun driving with the air conditioner off and the windows down to enjoy the wind in my hair - which leads to very tangled hair as it is now down to my waist again. I'm trying very hard this pregnancy to avoid the temptation to chop it all off like I did with the last two. My hair grows best when pregnant and I'm not going to get this opportunity again.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993300;">It is the season of baking and get togethers, warm sweaters on cool evenings, spicy sweets and warm drinks. Thank you October, I love you!</span>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-19082163730876731052010-09-03T15:44:00.000-07:002010-09-16T09:39:15.749-07:00It's been a long time, old friend<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;">It feels like forever since I last had the energy or time to blog. I've <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">truly</span> missed it. Life, real life, has a way of keeping you busy. We are nearing opening night of the play I did get into. And yes, I got the part of the pregnant lady. It's a drama and the last two <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">scenes involve lots of emotion and crying, but it's a great way to grow as an actor, really streaches my limits. It's also emotionally draining and I'm tired every single night. But I love the theatre as much as I love breathing. I was even over-stressed the other night and felt some way too early contractions but after 20 minutes in the theatre, I was relaxed and the pain went away.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected">We are extremely under-staffed at work. I'm having to cover an office over two hours away twice a week which involves leaving my home office at 6:45a and not getting back until 6p. Then in August, a co-worker in my home office quit. She went on to what will surely be greener pastures for her and her family. But August is our busiest month and until yesterday, I was over two weeks behind. I'm amazed by what I can get done in two days time, I am now only three days behind on my own caseload.</span></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;">My darling hubby is stubbornly holding out on rearranging our bedroom for the new baby saying, "We've got plenty of time." I pointed out to him that he's been saying that for four months now and we are down to only 12 weeks left! This baby isn't going to wait forever. Luckily, I have two daughters nearly my size to help and together we moved the bed to where I want it. I think this is the earliest I have ever had nesting syndrome and I can get quite emotional about it, just ask my girls. Some days when they've destroyed the house I am calm and reasonable with them about how important it is that the house stay clean. But other days I am the screaming banshee from hell! I think it would be easier if I was closer to my mom like last time and could take the kids to her house when I went into labor. This time I'm nearly two and a half hours away and will have to rely on the close friends we've made here to come to MY house. I could go insane with how worried I alway am about how clean my house should be when people come over. I even worry about the various religious persons to come knocking at my door for fear that they will see my laundry being folded in the living room because the garage is too hot. I know we'll get it to where I want it to be but the waiting is driving me nuts. Again, ask my girls... I think they secretly laugh behind my back about how crazy mom is right now.</span>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-17000071236672601162010-05-18T14:41:00.000-07:002010-05-18T16:03:48.430-07:00<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#993399;">We had our first OB appointment this past Thursday, I was so excited. But we didn't get to hear the heartbeat or learn our due date. However, I am scheduled for an ultrasound this Thursday morning to find out. I really hope the baby is cooperative and we get to see/hear him. </span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#993399;">The nausea is better but not entirely gone. I can't even stand the smell of my coffee after about 20 minutes. Actually, pretty much any food smell turns my stomach after 20 minutes. My children have been benefiting from lots of raw foods or things cooked outside on the grill because I just cannot stand the smell in my house. Also, a few nights of cereal for dinner, which for them is a real treat. I even made pancakes for dinner one night. I tried to make a huge batch of green <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">chile</span> stew only to get about halfway through before I couldn't stand the sight or smell of the raw pork. And don't even get me started on chicken! The only thing making this easier is the craving for pizza. Pizza allows me to get away with several things: satisfy the craving, no cooking, paper plates and no utensils. Hamburgers and peanuts cause me to rapidly fly to the bathroom, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">yeck</span>! But an avocado sandwich is bliss, especially with baby spinach and cucumber slices on wheat bread, yum! And boy, do I have a sweet tooth! Chocolate, cookies, frozen yogurt. Daddy even had to text a friend one night to find out where she got the cookies from that she served at her bar-b-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">que</span> because I REALLY wanted some. He's such a sweetie and got them for me. They also magically ease the nausea in the middle of the day.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;">I have learned that cereal for breakfast isn't enough to eat in the mornings. I get the shakes and hot flashes at around 10:30am and have to get something in my tummy quick. So I'll have to add a protein from now on. I also learned that the pickled ginger that came with my dragon roll the other day works wonders on the nausea! I knew ginger was great but pickled ginger I can suck on for-ever! Plus a dragon roll is always a great go-to when you can no longer have <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">sashimi</span>. We found a wonderful recipe for Spinach-Mushroom-Tofu soup in my "One Armed Cook" cookbook that has been great for the nausea too. Plus, it's got just enough protein and fiber to make a good main meal. I ate it for three days! Even my non-tofu and non-mushroom eaters ate every last drop and begged for more! Only one thing... the spinach feels funny on your teeth, sort of like screaming wax beans. (If you've ever <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">eaten</span> wax beans, you know what I mean. The screaming sorta freaks me out.)</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;">I had my birthday this month, I'm on the slide to forty because I can no longer say I'm in the middle of my thirties... 36. What the hell? Where did the time go? I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">definitely</span> don't feel that old! When my mom was 36, I was 14 and taller than her! She had teenagers at my age, and here I am pregnant with my 3rd/5<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">th</span> child! Her youngest was eight when she was my age. Perhaps that's why I admire her so much. By the time she was my age, she'd done so much. I'm proud of the things I've done too, but somehow, I feel like I dragged my feet a little. I know my mom wouldn't think of it that way, she's glad I took the time to live on my own, go to college, travel. I look back and I see that the reason I took so long to get out and do something was because I was scared. I was scared to leave home, go to college, get married, terrified of becoming a mom, horrified that I was going to be trapped, or worse, do it all wrong. My only <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">regret</span> is the time I wasted being scared all the time. I see that there is so much I <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">would've</span> done better if I hadn't let fear hold me. So I'm taking 36, pregnancy and all, and I've going to face my life, my choices, my husband, my family without fear that I'm doing it wrong. I'm going to live without that voice in my head that says "I can't", the voice that says "I shouldn't", or what "would your parents think?" I have a loving husband and family who are so supportive of me. I have an opportunity to do a play I have wanted to do since I first heard of it. I will be approximately six months pregnant when it is performed. The character I hope to play is six to seven months pregnant. I know one person (whom I love dearly) will not be happy with my decision to be in a production while I'm pregnant and my husband is left at home with the children. But my husband and children are supportive of me, and I will count on them and not let the fear of what "one person" might say or think of me determine my actions. I will do what I love one more time before I put away my costumes to birth and bond with this baby.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#993399;">That, in not quite a nutshell, is this month. At least until Thursday!</span>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-55413005131712549342010-04-16T08:28:00.000-07:002010-04-16T08:57:56.340-07:00Morning, Noon, and Night Sickness<strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#006600;">Ugh. I'd forgotten several things about early pregnancy. Morning sickness that lasted all day and having to pee several times a day. Granted, I really wanted this and was so worried about this pregnancy since I hadn't had any morning sickness but I'd forgotten how bad it could be. I'd had some nausea the past week but yesterday just about had me calling in sick. I've lucked out so far and I haven't thrown up like I did with B-Boy (almost but not quite), but at least with him it really was just morning sickness and not all day sickness. I'd get up a half hour earlier just to get it out of the way and continue on with the rest of my day. All I wanted to do yesterday was sleep and drink tea. Today, I woke up without a voice - not a good thing since tonight is opening night for Clue! The Musical. I have a voice now but I'm saving it for tonight. (Can the understudy get an understudy?) I'm starting to believe my husband when he said I was really doing too much: work, rehearsal, baking cakes, growing a child. I actually had to turn down a job for a cake this week. Sad, too, as it was to be from one of our friends to another of our friends; but two days notice with 9 hour work days and 4 hour dress rehearsals does not a cake bake. I swear he almost smiled when I told him I just plain couldn't do it and that sleep was more important to me than the 40 bucks I could make. Yep, an extra three hours of sleep is worth $40 to me right now. Worse though is that the cake they did buy, according to my husband, didn't taste too good and made him sick most of the afternoon. He didn't even want to eat lunch! And if you knew Daddy (the human garbage disposal who weighs in at 123 soaking wet) you wouldn't believe it. Luckily for me, the next two cakes I have scheduled (May and June) are after theatre season. Tomorrow, I am <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">soooo</span> sleeping in because I don't have to be anywhere until 6pm - except grocery shopping. Oh, and cleaning the fridge. And laundry. And....</span></strong>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-6119579082877818182010-04-09T12:30:00.000-07:002010-04-09T12:56:59.064-07:00It's Official.....We're Pregnant!<strong><span style="color:#330099;">Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the final verdict is in and we are indeed pregnant! My poor veins in my left arm are still screaming from being abused three times this week, but it's well worth it for such wonderful news. Our <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">hcg</span> level is 976 which puts us approximately at 5 weeks. I told my mom first and she was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ecstatic</span>! We're making plans to travel to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Las</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Cruces</span> to tell my brother and s-i-l and then go shopping at the outlet mall for cute maternity wear! I gave most of what I had last time (5 years ago) to clients at the career center where I worked. Just as well, they went to ladies who needed them and by now would've been outdated. I still have four pieces - black jeans, black skirt, purple satin blouse, and teal/white striped business dress shirt - classics with some color.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="color:#330099;">So this will make pregnancy number three for Daddy and me, but baby number 5! We'll be lucky number 7! I'm going to make the most of this pregnancy because we are planning this to be the last. Neither of us are spring chickens anymore, this baby will be born just before Daddy turns 40. Plus there is the issue of space, we can't exactly start stacking kids on top of each other. Our van only seats 7. So this last baby will complete our family until at least ten years from now when our first daughter will be in her mid-twenties and we might be ready for <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">grandbabies</span>. I don't have an official due date yet, but it's somewhere around B-Boy's birthday. I'll keep everyone posted. Thanks for your prayers!</span></strong>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-20032235300385696572010-03-29T14:35:00.000-07:002010-03-29T14:57:32.871-07:00A perfect day<span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc6600;">It is a perfect day. I do not mean was, because the day in it's entirety was so perfect that if I were to look back at it ten years from now, it would continue to be the perfect day. Just as a painting is beautiful, even though it was painted a hundred years ago, the perfection still continues to exist.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc6600;">Sunday, March 28<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span>, 2010 - the perfect day for the Powell family.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc6600;">We woke without alarm clock assistance to a sunny day. I felt happy for no reason other than I was happy. Our son, B-Boy, snuggled with us for a few minutes before announcing that his tummy by rumbling. Josie-bean curled up at my feet so quietly that I thought for a moment that she was the cat. The children ate cereal and I made eggs while Daddy made toast. While we finished eating, the children showered and got ready for church without repeated reminders or raised voices.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc6600;">Palm Sunday services were beautiful. Father Bill asked Daddy if his office had called him because he would like Daddy to represent one of the apostles on Holy Thursday. Daddy has the same name as an apostle. So he will be getting his feet washed, therefore, I'll be giving him a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">pedi</span> and making him take his shoes off in the house.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc6600;">We stopped at home for lunch and then went to the bowling alley. Daddy and some of the folks where he works <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">participated</span> in Bowl for Kids' Sake and loved it enough to want to try to bowl every weekend. This weekend only included our family and one other couple, but it was very fun.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc6600;">We stopped at the house for a potty break and stale bread then went to the zoo. The children played at the playground in the warm sun for a while. Then we walked around looking at all the animals and fed the ducks at the fishing pond. The children were angels!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc6600;">After a quick stop at Sam's for steak and veggies, we went to Classics for some chocolate custard cones - <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">delish</span>! We went home and fired up the grill. Daddy grilled the steaks while I steamed veggies and gently cooked some scallops. It was my first time cooking scallops and they came out perfectly! We actually sat at the table for dinner, prayer, and conversation. We all promised ourselves we would try our best to make Sunday dinner always at the table. The children's manners were <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">impeccable</span> - pleases, thank yous, and may I be excused. They even cleared their own plates, even our four year old, B-Boy!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc6600;">One by one, the little ones left for bed. Then Daddy and I cuddled up, talked about the perfect day, and drifted off to sleep.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc6600;">I will never forget this perfect day.</span>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-55753114961169073772010-03-25T07:58:00.000-07:002010-03-25T08:16:47.662-07:00Spring!<strong><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;">So here I sit in my office with no window to the outside world and only a 24"x24" skylight ten feet above my head giving me any sense of the fact that Spring has begun to show her presence. It's an opaque skylight at that. I love this time of year.... except for my allergies. But those are relatively controlled by my bottle of Zyrtec. I was smarter this year and bought the super-duper-extra large double-pack of them at Sam's. Though I'm sure when I run out, it will take me weeks before I remember to get them again and I'll also run out of tissues.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;">New Mexico springs are quite different from other places I've lived. In Florida, the change of seasons is sudden - one week it's warm and the next it's warmer. In Panama, it was either the rainy season (and you got rain everyday) or it was the dry season (no rain for months). In California, winter was bitter cold and wet and then went instantly into summer. But here in New Mexico, winter tends to drag it's feet during departure. There are little peeks into what spring with bring - the trees are already budding, some have flowered, the skinny squirrels are running amok having shed all their fat from the fall. There are even blissfully warmish days of sunshine which get you thinking that you can plan a glorious weekend outside, feeling the warm sun on your face, after spending a week long lifetime in a room with no real windows.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;">And then the e-mails start coming in about how your northern (only 300 miles) away offices are closing because of inclement weather. You walk outside at lunch to run an errand and feel the chill in the air and see some distant dark clouds. By 7pm on Friday night, a cold rain begins. "Oh, it's just a little rain. It'll be nice tomorrow," you say as you head to Wal-mart for something you forgot. Then as you're driving in the cold rain, something changes. The rain becomes... slower....colder....FLUFFIER! You wake up Saturday thinking you just dreamt it all. Put on your sandals to head outside and feed the dog only to quickly run back in shivering because there's snow on the ground and it's freezing cold! Ugh! So much for a sunny Saturday.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;">This week started off cold and windy. There were some ominous clouds yesterday but they cleared off by the afternoon. Got only one office closure e-mail yesterday, last night was lovely. This morning there was ice on my car.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#33cc00;">New Mexico... you surely keep me on my toes. But I'm shopping for sandals today no matter what the weather brings!</span></strong>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-72339791762708894952010-03-11T15:01:00.000-08:002010-03-11T15:22:15.098-08:00Instant Gratification<span style="font-size:130%;">Our son, B-Boy, has developed the habit of whining. I loathe whining. I believe whining is the only thing in the world that I loathe so much as to actually use the word "loathe." He whines because whatever it is he wants, he wants it NOW. Children today are being raised in a world of Instant Gratification. If you want something, it's only a flash of plastic away. Even our information and knowledge. Gone are the days of working for knowledge. If you want to know who first discovered the platypus, just Google/KGB/Bing it! No more heading to the library (by foot), looking up the right encyclopedia (in a card index), and physically turning pages and reading paragraph after paragraph about the platypus until reaching your answer - Dr. George Shaw, but only after the aboriginal people knew about them for thousands of years! You want to watch a certain movie, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Netflix</span> can instantly play it on your computer.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">My point? Where is the waiting?</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Waiting is a rapidly disappearing skill! And yes, skill, because you have to learn to wait. It's not something you are born with. Even as adults we need to redevelop our skill to wait. Can't afford it, don't charge it - Wait till it's on sale and you've saved the money. Want the kids to just grow up already - Wait, childhood is short enough as it is. Tempted to just give the child what he wants so he'll stop whining (which is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">loathsome</span>) - Wait, because this too shall pass and he'll have learned the valuable skill called <strong><u>Waiting</u></strong>.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">Instant Gratification can kiss my booty - though I'm sure I'll have to wait for that!</span>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-57531103276964561072010-02-26T08:22:00.000-08:002010-02-26T09:37:58.126-08:00Baby? Baby-not?<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;">So Daddy and I have attended two Natural Family Planning classes and have found them very informative. After the first one, we had a discussion about giving it a try since I have had trouble with almost every other kind of birth control.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;color:#000099;">Believe me when I say trouble: The pill gave me irregular periods, made migraines worse and was difficult to remember to take every single day; The patch made me <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">nauseous</span> at the beginning of every week, didn't like to stay put, and wasn't reliable when I was on an antibiotic; The shot made me sick for three days every time I had to take it, gave me thirty-five extra pounds and also made me panic when Aunt Flo stopped showing up for her visits. Then came the IUD which sounded like it would be the right one. I didn't have any <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">nausea</span>, didn't have to think about it except to check for the strings once a month, didn't have as many migraines (though the ones I did have were worse). But it gave me spotting nearly every single day for the last nine months! I rarely went three days without spotting, was too scared to wear my pretty panties, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">should've</span> owned stock in Carefree <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">pantyliners</span>! And then.... the strings disappeared!</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;">So Daddy and I weighed our options and compared notes. We both agreed that the best I ever felt was in the few months between stopping the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">depo</span> shots and having the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">mirena</span> put it. I wasn't in as much pain and no <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">nausea</span>. And while he was still on the fence about another baby, I was certain I wanted to give B-Boy a baby brother (or sister if that's what God has planned for us). Plus, hearing that I couldn't be absolved of my sins if I continued to use <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">artificial</span> contraceptives was a shock. I mean, seriously, I can't be <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">forgiven</span> for any of my sins if I continue to use birth control? I was a cradle Catholic, my mom was going to be a nun until she reunited with my dad - she used birth control - wouldn't she have told me that? And no, I don't blame my mom, she had other issues that required her to be extremely careful about how many and when to have her babies. Perhaps I missed something in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">CCD</span> classes growing up, but while I do remember a short paragraph in my confirmation book (which I still have 18 years later) it wasn't really emphasised as anything other than a personal choice, just sort of frowned upon. Our decision? Commit to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">NFP</span>, period. Daddy's biggest reason, my health. My biggest reason, to prepare my body for the best chance at another baby. As a couple, for our faith and our marriage. Neither of us are "bible-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">thumpers</span>" and we'll be the first to admit we have had our fair share of sinning. But somehow, this just feels right. We had the IUD removed over a month ago. Aunt Flo made her first normal visit, temperatures were taken, other things that would be considered <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">TMI</span> were observed, charts were recorded.</span><br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;">And then.... Daddy changed his mind and wants another baby! Little fireworks went off in my heart (and then the bedroom). Charting continues, but as of now, we're pretty sure there isn't a bun in the oven. I told my mom yesterday and her reply was, "When it's God's will." How true. But I cannot tell the world enough how much better I feel. I've been pretty close to pain free for a month! I'm so much happier being free to leave it in God's hands. I'm not even sure if Daddy understands just how much happier I feel but I'm sure he sees it. He has <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">definitely</span> noticed how much I'm NOT in pain. Even my doctor noticed a difference and it fits with the diagnosis of what he thinks I have. Do I feel closer to God? Yes, I do. It's weird in a way because I don't think I've felt like this since my confirmation. The day I went to my appointment to have the IUD removed, a funny thought entered my mind. What if all the problems I've always had with chemical birth control have been God's way of telling me it wasn't the way to go and I just wasn't listening? And as I was thinking over that, I was walking to my car to go to lunch and my appointment. For the first time ever, I heard the bells ring from the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">monastery</span> down the street. I leave for lunch at the same time everyday and have never heard the bells before. I took it as a sign that I was finally doing the right thing. Hearing the bells on the day I was following through on a change of heart. I thank God for that. If it is in His plan to give us another child or not, I will be happy because He has brought me four wonderful children in a way I had never planned for. </span>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-36700750781667960672010-02-09T13:25:00.000-08:002010-02-09T13:49:02.068-08:00Roller Coaster HeartacheThis is not an easy post. But then, this is not an easy life. And <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">writing</span> this is going to be hard either way because I can't really post what I am feeling or what I'm feeling it about. Partly because of who might be reading this and knows me. Mostly because I don't even have it sorted out in my head.<br />It's no one's fault perhaps except my own for being so naive in believing I was being told the truth. Also because I expected a promise from years ago to be <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">fulfilled</span> when I was ready. And yes, granted it could still come to pass - so am I wrong for feeling betrayed when there is still time for what was promised to happen? But can I hold out hope that he will change his mind? Is it even worth the fight if it destroys what he has planned for our future? And his plans wouldn't be destroyed, just <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">postponed</span> for about as long as he has <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">postponed</span> what I (and originally "we) wanted. <br />But I love him. More than I thought was possible. But is what he wants me to do asking just too much? It's so similar to what my ex-husband demanded. I know he's nothing like Jason, but why ask this of me? Does he not trust me? If he did, he wouldn't ask me to do this. And yet, I know he trusts me because I can do the things I like and be away from our home and he doesn't question. I've not given him any reason to worry. But for this one person, he cannot let go. <br />I don't know what to do. I've got no one to talk to. My best friend is my husband and I cannot talk things through about my husband with my husband. So I hand this over to the blog-o-sphere and just ask for prayers because I can't ask for advice on something I can't talk about.Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-80686699513845613892010-02-03T14:51:00.000-08:002010-02-03T15:07:51.845-08:00What is with this freaky weather!?!<strong><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;">It's cold. Then it's warm. Freezing, then nice. And all the freaky snow!!! There is a saying her in New Mexico, "Don't like the weather, just wait fifteen minutes." That couldn't be more true this winter. We have had more snow than I have ever seen. And I've lived here on and off for over twenty years! We've even been sent home early or on delays and had one full snow day here.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;">I know what our northern friends are thinking, that they still go to work in several feet of snow. But let me tell ya, New Mexico roads are not built for cold weather. It isn't so much the inches of snow (or in some places - 2 feet), it's that it's usually so warm here right before a snowfall that the snow melts right away or starts as rain. Then all that water gets to below freezing and becomes an inch or two of ice beneath the four inches of snow.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:lucida grande;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;">I have a lovely little device on my car called "traction control" and I never thought I would ever use it except if I hit some "New Mexico Black Ice," which is really just the film of oil that floats on top of the thin sheets of water when it does rain. It can be dangerous stuff but it doesn't happen often. I even laughed when I discovered the button for it. "Oh, I'll never use this. We're in New Mexico." I AM NOT LAUGHING NOW. This winter, though, my traction control has automatically activated itself all but two of the days it has snowed. I've noticed that most of my companions on the road don't even bother to try to stop at a four way stop. They just slow down enough to let you go on your turn.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;">Yesterday was nice, not too cold and the sun was out.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;">Today has been cold, rainy, then sleet, then snow, and now nothing but cold again.</span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;">Where's my fifteen minutes of sunshine?</span></strong>Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-45209635347981446602010-01-25T15:45:00.000-08:002010-01-25T15:51:42.300-08:00Just needing to blow some smoke...Appropriate phrasing for the title there.<br />I just discovered, quite <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">unexpectedly</span>, that Daddy has been smoking again for nearly three months! <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Argh</span></span>! I only noticed because I smelled his hair and he smelled of fake strawberries and cigarette smoke. And no, I have no idea where the strawberry smell is from. He admitted to smoking for the last three months in secret. I'm clearly not happy as this to me is lying. I've been blissfully going along praising my husband for quiting smoking in August and handling it so well when in reality.... he's been hiding it behind my back. I'm very disappointed and while I understand that it is an <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">addiction</span> that is very hard to overcome, that does not <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">permit</span> lying to me about it. Ugh!Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8911288617876196222.post-31706241785281881702010-01-20T15:35:00.000-08:002010-01-20T15:58:03.479-08:00Another Opening, Another Show....Only a few more weeks till opening night. 16 days to be exact. We're getting down to the wire and I've still got to choose two outfits. I've got my gown and my pajamas, but my regular clothes still need to be sorted out. The stage looks great, we've really got it looking like a rustic lakeside cabin. There's even some taxidermy animals and fish! Am I nervous? Not yet, and I think I'm going to be fine. At my age, I don't think there's really any reason to get nervous anymore, I'm pretty sure anything I screw up on I'll be able to laugh at. There's even a part where I'm dressed to the nines in my glittery red gown and I let out a loud burp! How UN-ladylike! My "stage" husband has been a real trouper through all this. I have to push him several times up stairs and through doors. If I were really that type of wife, I'm sure I wouldn't be a wife for long. This character has been <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">alot</span> of fun, and exhausting. She's a real stretch from my last character nine years ago. Not sweet and innocent, but cunning and insincere. <br />My real life husband has also been my knight in tarnished armor throughout this whole experience. He's taken <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">command</span> of picking up B-Boy from daycare and getting the girls to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">CCD</span> on Wednesdays. He's even been cooking dinner on more than just two nights a week! And pretty good dinners at that! Without him, I wouldn't be able to do this. He is so much more understanding than my last husband was about "stage husbands/boyfriends" or "theatre kisses." I'll have to do something extra special for him to thank him when this is all done. Any suggestions?<br />By the way...<br />Daddy had his birthday this past Saturday and I surprised him with a Slave 1 birthday cake. For those of you who are not Star Wars geeks, that would be <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Bubba</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Fett's</span> spaceship. All the guys were totally <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">geeking</span> out on the cake! I'm so proud of myself and Daddy was ecstatic! I'll get pics on here as soon as I can.Christibearhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04457564718071138622noreply@blogger.com0