This Happens Often... NOT!

I dashed up the highway to make drops at each daughters residence. Things they MUST have now. I'm a good sport. To my surprise, they were free at the same time. More like they were hungry for some decent food and mom was in town for an hour. Time for some "bonding"! An hour of bliss for all three of us. Their tummies are full and so is my heart. (boy is this pic not so good)

Nice to know my girls love me and want to spend time with their mama. Glad their manners have remained intact while becoming the independent women that they are now.

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Butterflies and Tears

I was up very early this morning to travel and see Drama Queen graduate from the inpatient recovery center. It's an hour drive to the center and the entire time I had knots in my stomach. I nearly turned back twice. But I didn't. I pressed on. When I followed the map to the address, I realized this was a neighborhood I had chased her down before seven years earlier. I nearly cried right there. I tried to ignore my surroundings and get myself in the door as soon as possible.

The moment I walked in the door, DQ was there waiting for me. She looks fabulous! An addict's body detiorates with use very quickly, the acne is horrendous, body becoming more like a shell with bones protruding. They look sick. DQ was radiant. Her hair was shining and healthy. I cannot remember her face looking so smooth and beautiful in years. Her body is perfect. She is not overweight from eating too much starch (happens in some rehabs) and it is not thin (from not eating enough). And then there's that tummy. No doubt she is pregnant. My heart sank when I actually saw this.

She took me to the room where all the women residents and counselors had gathered for her graduation and closing ceremony. There is a coin with the name of the center on it. DQ is not allowed to touch it yet. One at a time, each girl held that coin and spoke. They expressed to my daughter what she meant to them. They expressed what they wish to take from her. Then expressed what they wish to give to her. What was expressed over and over is DQ's strength, her knowledge of the 12 step program, and her love of people. Of course, I know all these things. It was nice to hear about twenty other women say the same things about my girl. Then the coin was handed to her. There were many, many tears among these women. They have grown close in a short time.

DQ loves butterflies. While she was in this center, she would have a Monarch butterfly floating around her whenever she was outside. She took this as a sign that it was Reece staying close to her. Whenever the other girls were outside and a butterfly would flutter around, they come in and let DQ know that Reece was outside. DQ beamed as she told me this. She blames herself for Reece's death. She is doing much better, but has a long road ahead still.

I then drove her to the next residence she will stay for three to six months. This is what is different this time around. Usually, you finish the inpatient program and they open the door with a good luck and don't let the door hit you on the way out! This place is supervised, but not a lock down inpatient facility. It is a re-integration facility. There are counselors to help her on site. The clinic and doctor is a couple of blocks down the road. She will hopefully be looking for a job soon. She will work on finishing her GED. She only has the Math portion left to pass. Damn Math. She missed passing it the last time by two lousy points.

I'm still not convinced anything has changed with her. She claims she has 'gotten over' Reece's father, yet he was thinking of attending her graduation until he heard I would be there. Wise choice to not come. He is the father of the present bun in the oven. I guess time will tell. The good thing is she is not in our metro area. She is very close to Blondie, but she doesn't know where Blondie lives now. We are going to keep it that way for now. Both of my girls are now in Jayhawk Country.

I pray she makes it this time, but I already feel we are heading down the old familiar road. God help me.

My Apologies

I'm sorry I can't visit today. My mind is busy. I have decided to go to Drama Queen's 'graduation' in the morning. I am still not quite sure how I feel about this, but as her mom, I feel I need to give her some sort of support to keep her going. I'm frightened and I'm scared... for me. I just want my daughter back.

I'll be back tomorrow night, hopefully.

10 Things That Represent My Life

I have been tagged by Tammi and now must come up with the ten things that represent my life. Sounds simple at first, but this is booger of a list to come up with. This meme actually took some real thought! So, here goes...

1. My Family: This has to be first because my two daughters and my husband have been the center of my life for the past 26 years. They are my 'job'. My life revolves around these three people. Hubby is a physician. That should be enough said, but he works in the E.R. which means we don't know what his schedule is from month to month. His shifts change from day to day. Shifts range from day, mid-day, evening, and the dreaded night shift. These shifts don't come in groups together, they are scattered all over the place. No such thing as a 'regular' bedtime around here. DQ obviously has kept me on my toes for past ten years. Running around trying to find her, keep her court dates, visiting her in hospitals, getting her to appointments, and dealing with couples who want to adopt her 'next' baby. OYE! Blondie. She kept me busy running her around to all her athletic and dance activities. Some normalcy in my life! These three are more than a full time job. I don't know how you moms who work outside the home do it. I'm pooped.

2. My Sisters: My sisters are my best friends. I spend most time with them when I am not with my family. I couldn't get through my life without my sisters. Sure they piss me off, but there are so many of them, that there is always at least one or two I'm happy with at any given time. The beauty of a large family. (watch the comments girls)

3. Music: I love music. I love most music. It used to be just rock, but I have learned to appreciate just about anything I listen to at any given time. We have albums, a gajillion CD's, and of course my iPod. That poor little thing is packed with everything from country to rock to blues to classical to rap. And of course you know I have my own personal musician in residence who sings on command. Sometimes I have to tell him to shut-up cause it's driving me batty and I can't hear the news on T.V. Music is huge in our life and home.

4. Laptop: This probably wouldn't have made the list if my power had not been going off and on sporadically for hours on end recently. Dweeb and I first thought no big deal. It will get a bit warm, but we can live with it until the power comes back on. WRONG! I headed to my laptop and he headed to the desktop. My laptop is on battery, but it does not good if you have no electricity to hook up to the internet!! We were at a loss without our computers. I spend HOURS on this contraption a day. Searches, talking with Blondie or friends, blogwalking, downloading more music... you get the idea. Most of you are probably the same way. I realized I cannot live without my laptop.

5. Books: Books have a been a big part of my life since I was a child. I was a reader from an early age. I have shelves and shelves of books. I am getting close to having the complete collection of Pope John Paul II's writings. That will always be kept on my shelf. Others I really need to give away. You can read my mind by looking at what I'm reading at any given time. For instance, I just finished Nora Ephron's new book "I Feel Bad About My Neck". (She is my hero) Sitting on the little table next to the couch where I park my tush is "The Purpose Driven Life". I want to see what the fuss is about this book. I'll keep you posted on that. Sitting on coffee table staring at me begging to be opened is Thomas Friedman's "The World Is Flat". That book scares me just looking at it. Such committment it is going to require! The content and the number of pages! Also on the bookshelf to never be removed is Sylvia Plath and Augusten Burroughs, Carrie Fisher (she is hilarious!) and John Irving. I also have many books regarding my faith. Have a question about why Catholics do that? I probably have the answer on my bookshelf! I just love books.

6. My Home: This must be on the list because I spend so much time here. I have lived here longer than I have lived anywhere at anytime. We have lived here for 15 1/2 years. That's a freakin' lifetime! My home is a mess. It's not a 'show home' like most in our area. Most of the homes in our area you'd be afraid to touch anything if you went inside. Not here. You not only can pick it up, you can throw it if you want! And we have! We just have lots of STUFF after so many years. Dweeb began with one room downstairs for his music and it has now invaded nearly every single room in the house. My books, scrapbooking crap, camera and accessories also take space in many rooms. And the stacks! This is inherited. I swear. I have stacks. Stacks of papers here. Stacks of papers there. I have tried to organize and file and get them out of the way. It works for awhile, but I invariably find I'm back to stacks. It is organized chaos though. If that's any consolation. It's not too bad really. I just look at everyday and it's getting my last nerve again. I do love my home. Very open. One room flows into another. No doors or small doorways except on bathrooms or bedrooms. I look out my huge back windows (and there is shit load of them, fourteen to be exact) and I see a beautiful lake with a landscaped area that comes to the edge of our property. We completely lucked out by being one of the first six people to move into this area. There are now over 700 homes. We have the best lot in the area. NICE!

7. My Car: Our home is a bit out in the sticks. Civilization is growing our way, but just to get to any shopping it is ten miles one way. I can spend a lot of time in the car. It takes me to 1 - 1 1/2 hours to make a 'quick' run to the grocery store. If I have several errands to run, I map it out so I go in a circle and end up back home without having to backtrack. Backtracking can cost you another 15 minutes to half hour depending on traffic. My car hold any necessities I may need in a pinch. Kleenex, hand lotion, blanket, water, camera, and any items that need to be delivered 'just in case' I end up near the place or see the person it belongs to. I have the iPod car gadget so I can listen to it. On the radio is the sports station so I can keep up do date on the Jayhawks (of course). My car is my second home.

8. My Faith: I am a Catholic. I am an Irish Catholic. I am very proud of that. I LOVE my faith. Some would say I have every reason to hate the Church and are surprised I still love the Church, but I do. The Church didn't do anything, but show me the way. My faith has gotten me through times I thought I would not live through. I believe my religion has the answers, if you know where to look for them. I just know in my heart this is where I'm supposed to be. Adoration is where I am able to speak more directly to God and to cry out loud.... He always answers me. I realize many of you will not understand what Adoration is and I'm sorry for not explaining that now. Confession! How wonderful is that! No, we don't confess so we can go right back out and do it again, etc, etc. If you have the right confessor, you can get all that crap off your chest, be forgiven, and receive spirtual guidance. All in one swoop! When you're finished, you feel fifty pounds lighter! Okay, better move on to the next one. Getting a bit carried away here. My apologies.

9. My Birks: KM will be horrified to read this. Turn your head now sweetie or you may scream. I love my birks. That is all I wear. I have different colors and styles, but that's about it. Don't get me wrong. I love shoes. Shoes don't love me. Birkenstocks are THE most comfortable shoes I have ever worn! I can walk for miles in those puppies. My feet never hurt when wearing them. Now, when winter hits and it's freezing outside, I have a new love when I leave home. UGGS. I know! But they are SO comfy! You need to understand, my wardrobe in the winter is jeans and hoodie sweatshirt and UGGS (if outside) or Birks (if inside). Can't help it. I'm a dork.

10. My glasses: I hate them. I hate them with a passion. But I have to have them or I can't see! I had 20/20 vision until I was 41 years old. Then... yep, downhill. I became blind as a bat. Glasses SUCK! Not only that, I went from 20/20 vision to BIFOCALS! Welcome to the 'other side'. My eye problem doesn't have a 'fix'. No laser treatment. No contact lens have been perfected for bifocals yet. (besides I probably wouldn't be able to get them in my eyes) I'm stuck with these things cluttering up my face, hurting my nose and ears. They are smeary much of the time and constantly being grabbed and tugged on by the triplets (previously it was Jaden). These glasses have been through hell. If frames style change, you SOL. You keep wearing what you have until they come back in style again. But, they are a part of me. I have to have them or I wouldn't be able to visit any of you.

I guess that's it. Not very interesting. I'm pretty dull actually. So, what 10 things represent you? I'm tagging anyone who reads this. This means you! I see you and I know who you are.

Drama Queen Update

For those that do not know already, Drama Queen is my eldest daughter. She has been a drug addict for over ten years. Her 3 month old son, Reece, passed away May 20th and she had a terrible relapse. Drugs of choice: Crack and heroin. We were forced to make her leave our home the first of July. She has now been in a women's treatment facility for a month in a city about an hour away. I had not spoken to her since we told her to leave. Now... the update:

She has been writing me letters. Blah, blah, blah is what I read. I replied with a letter to explain why I could not speak or communicate with her. I have to try to take back my life after all these years. It had gotten to the point we did nothing but enable her when trying to help her. No more. She had to do this on her own or suffer the consequences of her decisions. I was not sure how she would react to this letter. Would she accept my explanation and continue her recovery or would she bolt from the facility? It was a toss up. She did need a copy of her birth certificate, but I was not going to send it if she was not there anymore. I made a phone call to her counselor for the first time to see if she was still at the facility. Of course, I had to leave a message. No human can ever talk to you. When the phone rang I thought it would be the counselor, but instead it was DQ. She was still there. She was calm. She said she accepted my letter. She is graduating from the recovery center next week and asked if I would consider coming for that celebration. My response was that I was not going to fall back into the same traps with her and I would have to think about it, but that I was proud of her and glad she was still there. The same day she 'graduates', she will be transported to another place for about six months where she will get a job and begin to learn to live life on her own. This is where she fails repeatedly. This is when I will have to stick to my guns and refuse to help her. She must do it on her own.

Oh yeah, one more 'little' thing. She's pregnant again. I had gotten wind of this news a few weeks ago and went ballistic then. That is FIVE children now. She cannot even take care of herself! She has not decided what she is going to do yet. Adoption is still an option. She knew I was not happy about this, so that part of the conversation was very short.

Hubby and I discussed all of this and I believe I may go to her 'graduation'. Show a little support, but I'm not convinced she's changed. She always does well in controlled environments. The test will be when she is released into the wild.

And with regards to her getting pregnant over and over. With her addiction, she does not use birth control properly (obviously) and probably never will. When she had Reece, she spoke to the doctor about having her tubes tied, but because she had no children living with her, the state refused to do that. Okay, our government at work again! I'd like get my hands on them, but she is at their mercy with no health insurance. If she places this child for adoption, it will be the same answer with regards to permanent birth control. They won't do it no matter how many children she has had. Their reasoning is that she has no children living with her now. IDIOTS! I could rant about that all day, but won't.

Anyway, she seems to be doing okay, but I'm still upset with her and will keep communication at a bare minimum. She must do all of this on her own. Otherwise, my child will die.

On a lighter note, I have to get going now. My nephew (3 years old and big bro to the triplets) went an ENTIRE day without going in 'time out' or picking on the triplets, so I have to take him bowling. That was the agreement made a month ago. It took him a month to make it a day with no 'time outs', so he deserves a bowling night!

I've Got An Itch... I Need Your Help

If you have not visited my MSN Space, please do NOW

This regards a subject I find important at this time. If you feel the same way, you can make a difference.

The Victims of 9/11 need a face to their names. Go to http://rock-chalk.spaces.live.com now and find out how you can make a little difference. I know how busy everyone is right now with school beginning and all the activities going on, but this will take just a little of your time.

If I have already peaked your interest, take just a single moment and check out this blog to find out just how simple this is and how important it is. This a project being done by bloggers everywhere.

Thanks.

State of Mind? Are you kidding me?

I have been negligent on this little space. It will never grow and I will never make the transistion if I don't get a move on, so here I am.

As many know, this has been an incredibly bumpy summer for yours truly. I am coming to terms with the death of my grandson Reece. Really. I'm not just saying that. I visit his grave every week if even for a minute to remind him to take care of his mom, Drama Queen. Speaking of which, I spoke to her today and she is doing fairly well. This is the first time I've spoken to her since she relapsed and we kicked her out of the house the first of July. She graduates from recovery program on Tuesday. More on that maybe tomorrow. I am beginning to take my life back after more than ten years of dealing with her and her addiction. My baby girl turned 21 as everyone on earth knows. This is difficult. My baby is an adult. What does that make me? Sure I'm still a mom, but not in the same way. She is spreading her wings even wider right now and this is the most challenging of all. I have no other younger children to focus my attention.

My birthday was in June. When I turned 30, no problem. Sure it was the end of an 'era', but I wasn't devastated. Before I knew it the big 4-0 hit. Still, nothing to be upset about. I never looked my age. I always looked younger and felt younger. My focus was my girls. Turning 40 was no big deal at all to me. It was a celebration!

Let's fast forward to June, 2006. Turning 49. My eldest is turning 26 this year. My baby is turning 21. I am a grandmother to five grandchildren. Yeah, the big news I received. She's pregnant AGAIN! I'll rant about that later! Anyway... Inside I don't feel 49. Inside I don't want to be 49. Inside I don't think 49. Inside I forget I'm 49. Oh... that's a good thing? I hear you out there saying that. Liars! It's not a good thing.

I've read Oprah. I've seen the articles and books about how you are only as old as you feel. I have truly struggled with this all summer. It's all bullshit. You can think that all you want, but you are lying to yourself. At some point you have to look in that mirror! Mirrors do not lie! Forty-nine is staring me in the face. I have aged ten years in the last four years. It's not right. It's not fair. I have thought about this the past three months and now I must go on the offensive. It's time to go into the maintenence phase of my life.

Do any of you truly understand this? If you are under 45 you do not. Right now I wish I had schmoozed more with the plastic surgeon that married a childhood friend of mine. Maybe he would give me a discount. I wish my Godfather, the dentist, was a decent man and would whiten my teeth as a gift.

It's now time to start with more lotions, pedicures, possible facials, doing something about the horrible varicosities that keep recurring in the legs. It's time to begin taking more baths with bath oils to try to save this skin that was burnt to a crisp over and over growing up before sunscreen and being fair skinned and freckled. OYE! I do not like baths. I'm weird like that.

And yesterday, picking up the triplets as I've done a million times in the past year and a half I strain my back. Another reminder. Don't forget how OLD you are becoming. Time to call the family doctor and get that physical you haven't had since... well, let's just say I can't remember the last time I had real physical.

I was thinking about all this and getting more pissed off as I stopped off at the bookstore to pick up something the other day when I came across a new release. Nora Ephron's new book "I Feel Bad About My Neck". An excerpt from this little gem:

"Every so often I read a book about age, and whoever's writing it says it's great to be old. It's great to be wise and sage and mellow; it's great to be at the point where you understand just what matters in life. I can't stand people who say things like this. What can they be thinking? Don't they have necks?"

This from the woman who wrote "When Harry Met Sally", "Sleepless in Seattle", and "You've Got Mail". I love this woman. She is my hero! I now know I am not alone in my thinking.

Rockin' The Night Away

Saturday was the Dweeb's 'gig'. He is pretty much a one man band at this point. It is difficult belonging to a full band with his schedule. He had a surgeon from work play bass Saturday. Dweeb played acoustic and electric guitar, electronic drum kit, drum machine, keyboards, and flute. The only instrument missing was the cymbals placed between his knees.

The party was hosted by one of the nurses from where he works. It was in a town called Peculiar. It was quite a drive to get there and I went later because I knew how long it would be to set up all of his equipment. As I pulled off the highway at the Peculiar exit, the billboard read "Peculiar... Where the 'odds' are with you". Hmm... do I really want to pull off here or should I make a quick u-turn and head back where I came from? That sounds a bit scary to me. Of course, I put on my brave face and proceeded into the place where the 'odds' would be with me.

The home of the nurse was very nice. Huge lot (acres) with a pond and a pool. The night was absolutely gorgeous for August. Dweeb was in full swing by the time I pulled down the long gravel drive. Dweeb is known throughout his place of business for his musical abilities and everyone loves it, which is a good thing. He would play whether they liked it or not. He played beautifully all night with only a couple of songs that went a bit haywire. Happens. No biggie. The big hit seemed to be when he was supposed to be taking a break. He picked up his stratocaster, supposedly to tune or check it out, but ended up playing Hendrix riffs. This brought the crowd to the forefront begging for more. Who doesn't like that? How can he refuse his fans? He can't. For the next ten minutes he just stood there, not worrying if everything was plugged in correctly or if his sheets of information were correctly placed in front of him. He just played. And it was grand.

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World Trade Center - the movie

Dweeb, Blondie, and I decided last evening at the last minute to see the movie "World Trade Center" that was released yesterday. I wasn't sure if I wanted to see it. Not because of the subject matter, but because it was being made by Oliver Stone. He seems to take liberties with his movies I'm not fond of. Anyway, we are giving Oliver the benefit of the doubt considering what it is about and head to the theater.

The movie was very good in my view. I don't believe he took any liberties with the subject matter. You can nick pick at little stuff, but take it as a whole and he has a very touching and moving movie. A story many people have not really heard before. And it's subject matter we need to be reminded of from time to time. I would recommend it.

I've mentioned several times over the past months my yearning to get back to NYC. This movie just made my itch worse. I'm not a 'big city' girl. Born and raised in the Midwest and that is where I'm comfortable, but there is something about that particular city that is mesmerizing. With the news this morning regarding more terroist plots thwarted, well, I think I can wait to scratch my itch.

When we go to New York City, it is only for about four days at a time. There is one particular hotel we stay in which is a couple of blocks from Times Square. No renting cars here. Everything is on foot, taxi, or subway. There are certain things we always do on each trip.

• At least one Broadway show. If we can get tickets, we go to two. This is non negotiable.
• We walk to the Village to see what's happening
• Stroll through parts of Central Park and visit Strawberry Fields
• Walk from Times Square, across the Brooklyn Bridge, over to Brooklyn Heights where Dweeb lived as an intern. At the end of his street is the Promenade that looks out over the river to Manhattan and the World Trade Center.
• Little Italy for lunch at least once!
• Find a new little neighborhood to explore (last visit was Soho which isn't little really)
• People watch (keeping my eye out for Naked Cowboy again).
  

Before 9/11, the World Trade Center was on the above list as a must. In the center plaza of the buildings were benches where we would lay, looking up at the incredible structures. A trip to the World Trade Center also included a trip to the very top for Dippin' Dots. That was the lure. Dippin' Dots. Now it is a hole in the ground. A very big hole. All the hustle, bustle. NYC is NEVER quiet. Until 9/11. Now in lower Manhattan as you get closer to Battery Park and WTC it becomes very quiet. It used to be very silent, but activity has resurged a bit there. The church across the street from WTC holds memorabilia and has become a mini museum of information. It's quite beautiful.

I miss sitting on the Promenade in Brooklyn Heights, strolling through Battery Park or Central Park, the bustle of Times Square, the food in Little Italy, the Broadway shows, the people watching, smelling the smells, chatting with the cops on the corners...

There is no place like New York City.

Yesterday I made a quick trip back to the cemetery to visit Reece (my grandson). I had found the cutest brightly painted wooden bug. The wings on the bug spun around with the wind. I planned to hang it on the mini banner post I had put there the week before. When I arrived, I noticed the in-ground vase was empty. I had carefully selectd and arranged a bouquet of bright yellow and orange artifical flowers last week and placed them in the vase. Now they were gone! I was shocked because this cemetery is not one that gets much vandalism. Also, the fact that the banners, statues, pinwheels, and toys are still there. Why would someone take the flowers? At first I was furious! So angry I began to cry. This emotional upset caused my heart palpitations, so I had to calm myself down for fear of my heart rate getting stuck at 180 beats/minutes. I scan Babyland (where all the children are buried) and I don't see his flowers anywhere. I then go the Maintenence Building thinking they fell out and are sitting down there waiting to be re-claimed. No luck there. I spoke to one of the workers and he said they have had a bit of trouble with people taking things off the graves. Okay. In my mind (beware here), I'm thinking they take Reece's artificial flowers, but leave the full, unopened bottle of wine that is laying at my dad's grave (don't ask, long story). Anyway, I'm at a loss.

Today I go back with a fresh bouquet of artificial flowers for Reece. I'm through being mad or upset about it. I'm thinking maybe it was someone who couldn't afford flowers for their loved one's grave. They may have seen all the beautiful things I've put at Reece's little place and thought I wouldn't miss the flowers. If that is the case, it's not right and it's downright creepy, but I'm okay with that. Every grave should have flowers or something adorning it. Rememberence. I hope that is what they were used for. I'd hate to think someone just took them home. Nope, not going to go there. I'm sure it was someone who just wanted something for their loved one's little place out there.

See how I stay sane? Not sure it works. I'll keep you posted.

Today I've spent the afternoon investigating my new home here further. Once again, MSN spaces is completely unavailable, so I unable to blog walk over there.

It is a tad frustrating for me as this is learning a foreign language for me. I have stumbled and fallen with some pretty big boo-boos. Band-Aids are great... right? It's getting there. I'm trying.

It's Dweeb's day off, but he has a 'gig' on Saturday night so he is busy filling the homestead with all the songs he and 'the surgeon' are going to play. Practice. Practice. Practice. He sounds really good. Be prepared for pictures of the Dweeb in action. The good thing about LOTS of band practice is he doesn't give me "the look" when he sees my head buried in this contraption for hours. It all works out in the end. Right?

I best get back to my own practicing here. If you come here and see some major screw ups, just laugh at me, make a comment insulting me for a good laugh (I'll be laughing right along with you), and I'm sure I'll figure out what I did wrong and fix it. If nothing else, this has given me a good chuckle at what I've created on a few attempts.

WWF in My Own Backyard

Baby sis phoned with that sound in her voice. That plea of help. In the background, I could hear THEM. The screeching, crying, yelling was a migraine in action. I don't want Baby Sis jumping out her second story window, so I jumped in the car and ran over there.

Boy... she was not exaggerating. Combination of heat, age, and irritability has lead this home to the edge. There are not many places you can go with 17 month old triplets and a 3 year old in tow. The destruction is severe and it's just plain exhausting trying to corral them. They are stuck at home a big part of the time with us adults trying to get creative as to where we can take this brood without causing havoc. Today it was indoors at home. The triplets were raging. The 3 year old is just plain sick of them. I don't blame him. They get into his things, they always require attention, and he just plain doesn't like that much.

I was only there for two hours today and I must say I was ready for a long nap when I got home. At one point, Baby Sis has 3 year old in the bathroom (potty training) and I was prying the two girls apart. The Artiste has gained much ground on the Dictator as of late. She can grab, bite, pinch, pull hair, and push as well as the Dictator now. So the girls were at it over the rocking chair. They both wanted to sit in it. They are clawing at each other and pulling each other out of the chair and I'm trying to get them both out of the chair and away from it. They are both very close to 'time out' when I look behind me. Lo and Behold Bubba decided he needed a bit of cleaning up. He is sitting on the end table with lamp knocked over. He had pulled every baby wipe out of the warmer and was washing up as he sat there precariously near the edge. So now what do you do? Keep the girls from scarring each others faces or save Bubba from falling from the table.

The entire two hours went on like this non stop. Poor Baby Sis. Word on the street is Supernanny is in our town this week and she filled out the application to get her to her home. I laughed when she told me this. I think she is doing everything fine. She just needs to remember instead of one kid at 17 months, there are three. So she just needs to accept the fact she will be in hell for a couple of more years.

1 comment:

I wonder if Blogger is better than where I am at now. I hope it's not too difficult, but I'm going to mess with this a bit and see if do it!