Conversations with Jenna

(to me, talking about Claire)

Jenna: Awww...look at those little fingers! Look at those little pigs! And look at that cute little pinto-butt! Look, mom! Look at Clairey's little pinto-bean butt!

Conversations with Jenna

(As we drive into the subdivision)

Jenna: Wow, wow, WOW! Look at all those lights! Wow! Look at that snowman! Oh no! That snoman isn't blowed up! Oh no! What happened?! Wow! Look at those lights! They're shakin' their bodies! Woo hoo! Look! Heeeeerrrreeee'sss the Griswald's house! (a house that is overdecorated)!

Conversations with Jenna

Mommy: Jenna, look at those beautiful twinkle-lights!
Jenna: Those aren't twinkle-lights, mom.
Mommy: Yes, they are.
Jenna: No, they're not.
Mommy: So, Miss Smarty-pants, what are they?
Jenna: They're lights that are shakin' their bodies!

The birds, the bees, and the boobies

I saw squirrels humping today. I have never seen that in my life. I really wanted to sit there and check it out, but my three-year-old would have asked too many questions, which I am not about to answer.

Not much to write about, except that I LOVE MY BABIES SO FRICKIN MUCH THAT I COULD EAT THEM FOR EVERY MEAL AND SNACK ON THEM IN BETWEEN.

Oh yes, one more thing: If Claire does not start begging off the boobies, there are gonna be some hard times ahead. I REFUSE to get up 2 times a night to give her unnecessary boobies. And, right now I'm making a promise: I will NOT give in to the pitiful crying; tears; the patting of my chest with that delicious, chubby little hand, and the teeny-tiny, gravely voice saying, "b-b-b-b-booooob-b-b-bies!" I will not fall victim to the sigh of relief she makes when I finally give her the coveted boobie; nor will I get a glow around my heart when she nurses, curls her belly against mine, and puts her hand on my face. Dammit. Maybe if I put a John Kerry mask on her, I won't fall victim to her cuteness.

Luva boy

It's funny how you can just be sitting at your desk working, when a memory just pops into your head. I'm talking a total blast from the past type of memory. When I was in 3rd grade, we moved to Texas. This tall, blond, gangly kid down the street decided he was my boyfriend. Now, in 3rd grade, I was still at prime "cooties" age, so why he liked me, I'll never know. He was nice, so I hung out with him. He never tried to "put the moves" on me--whatever "moves" it is boys have in the third grade. On Valentine's Day, he gave me a big, red, heart-shaped box of Whitman's chocolates and a Holly Hobbie card. The card had some young, tender message in it, and was signed, "Love, Jay Phelan." I wonder what happened to Jay Phelan.

Coal in your stocking

Last night, like all the other 30+ nights before, Jenna has wandered into our room and tried to sneak into bed with us. Usually, she accomplishes this; she is sly like a fox: climbing over the footboard and settling between us without causing even a stir between the two of us. Well, last night, I was prepared. Her first mistake: she tried to climb over me. CAUGHT!
I said, "Jenna, you know Santa only brings presents to good girls, right?"
"Right," she answered.
"Good girls sleep in their own beds, right?"
"Right."
I say, "So, let's go back into your bed."
Sternly, "NO. I need you, mommy."
Being all smart, I say, "So, I guess you don't want Santa to bring you 'Whack-a-Mole'?"
And, being my child, she looks me right in the eye, and says, "Nope."

Does reverse psychology EVER work? Not with this child.

All about her

Jenna: (grabbing mommy's face, under the chin, and looking at her with wide, expressive eyes) Have you seen that new, talking vacuum?!
Mommy: No, I haven't.
Jenna: Mommy, it is SO cool!
Mommy: Wherever would I find such a thing?
Jenna: (letting go of mommy's face and raising her hands in a confused act) I don't know!~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Mommy: Claire, do you have pee-pee panties?
Claire: (slowly but emphatically shaking head up and down to say yes)
Mommy: Do you have poo-poo?
Claire: (slowly but emphatically shaking head side to side)
Mommy: Okay, let's go get new panties!Claire: (goes to her room, gets diaper and wipes, then lies on the floor)
~*~*~*~*~*~
Jenna: Mommy, I need 'hack-a-moe'
Mommy: I know, honey, I know.
Jenna: Mommy, I need 'elefun'
Mommy: Yes, honey, I know.
Jenna: Stephanie, I love you.
Mommy: What's my name?
Jenna: Mommy.Mommy: Then quit calling me Stephanie.
Jenna: Okay, Stephanie. I love you mommy.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Mommy: I love you boo magoo.
Claire: ah loo yoo, mommeee.
Mommy: (sitting in a melted lump of love and kisses, trying to figure out how to move before she eats the child standing before her)

Pink hearts, yellow moons, blue diamonds...

Much like "Lucky Charms," my children are "magically delicious." I sometimes must push my children away from me because my mouth has a mind of its own, and wants nothing more than to stuff itself full of baby cheeks. And the feet...what is it about baby toes? They are like hor d'oerves of the Gods. And just the right snackin' size, too. The lips. Oh. The. Lips. Can I just die? I just want to bite 'em off and chew 'em up. Bubblegum delicious. I may need to start taking an antipsychotic. News headline: Mother Eats Children, States, "They were SO delicious!"

Handbasket to hell

I have a performance to do at school tonight--a duet scene. Act 7 from "After Easter." I get to drop the F-bomb. I get to say it loud. Tee hee hee. There's a nun in my class--this should be really fun. Will I go to hell for this? I'm enjoying it thoroughly, so probably. In our scene, we're also hitting off a flask and being blasphemous. SO FUN. I feel like I have a license to kill.

If it weren't for those meddling kids...

As I uncrossed and crossed my legs at work yesterday, there was a slight pulling on my left thigh. If felt as if a small area had been waxed by some invisible troll hiding under my skirt. I reached my hand up my skirt to rub that area on my thigh, and felt something...I pulled it off, and looked. It was a Scooby-Doo sticker. A Scooby-Doo sticker. That reminds me: At school on Tuesday night, I reached into my school bag to get one of my books. Instead of pulling out a book, I pulled out Tinkerbell Barbie. That's what happens when you're a mom.

10 things I miss about my pre-mommy life

Not that I don't simply adore my "mommy" life, but there are certain things I miss. Not in any particular order:
1. Sleep. Obviously. The 5-6 hours of completely interrupted sleep is just not working well for me.
2. Sitting down with dh and watching a movie that does not involve a Mexican, pint-sized explorer with a talking primate.
3. Options. I can no longer even consider joining the Peace Corps, teaching English in Japan, or just packing up and moving to Mexico. Having loud, noisy sex in the kitchen is pretty much out, too.
4. My boobs. I can't even remember having boobs that do not make milk.
5. Going out and only carrying my license and some lip gloss. For a 5-minute trip to the grocery store, it looks like we're packing for an expedition to Alaska.
6. Reading books. Grown-up books.
7. Quiet. I used to have so much quiet time, I'd get bored. Now, I get, roughly 5 minutes. And that's only if their naps overlap.
8. Real food. Back when chicken nuggets & macaroni and cheese weren't part of my home menu. 9. Selfishness. My kids look great, I look like ass. What's "me" time?
10. Not worrying about every child in the universe. I barely remember a time when I blamed everything on the parent. Now, my heart breaks everytime I hear of a child missing or hurt.

Nebulizers R Us

I have bronchitis. I worked from home today and I actually WORKED. When I work from home, I usually "work" from home--you know...I really don't "work" in the sense of "working." I'm taking augmentin. Those pills are the size of a small goat. Ugh. I put one in my mouth and my mouth just doesn't really know what to do with it. My brain is saying, "Swallow! Swallow the damned thing!" Yet my mouth is setting off an alarm that's saying, "Chew! Chew! Oh. My. God. Chew!" The whole thing ultimately ends up in my choking on the pill until my throat gives in and pushes the thing down. I have the things for 10 days, 2x a day, so my life isn't going to improve much in the coming days. Tonight's Scott's poker night. Me and the chicks were supposed to go to Angel's and just spend the night, but I'd rather not get lung tissue on her floor. I called her and apologized. As much as I'd love to go over there, let the kids play, and treat myself to a drink, the combination of chest congestion and antibiotics just doesn't mix well with liquor. You know...I could make a Hot Toddy and call it therapuetic.

A mess of globbity-goo

November?! What a wonderful, wonderful weekend! I SO love the time I get to spend with my babies. Jenna was pretty good at gymnastics on Saturday. I still had to sit by the wall, but she at least participated. We left with her telling me how much she loves gymnastics. She's becoming attached to one of the instructors, and i think that helps a lot. She doesn't do well with change, so as long as Traci is her teacher, she does okay. ~**~~*~*~*~*~*Over the monitor, I heard Claire crying--just waking from her nap. I was about to go get her, then I hear Jenna: "Hi, Boo-boo. Hi my boo-boo magoo! Did you have a nice sleepy? Did you?" I spent the next few minutes cleaning my melted heart off the floor.

Ticket, please!

Saturday, gymnastics was horrible. I should have known. Ten minutes before class even started, Jenna pitched in with, "I want to go home." She kept telling me this. UGH. Finally, once the class started, I threw her over the wall and told her to go sit on her dot. It was then, that the gates of hell opened. She screamed, and ran back to me. I went back out there with her. More screaming. Now parents are looking at me. Miss Becky took her over to the free-play area. Jenna climbed up and was going down the slides and such. I went to go sit down. Jenna screamed and came after me. Again, we return to the floor--Jenna sat on my lap, emitting evil looks from under her long lashes. --sigh-- We tried to get her to cooperate. More screaming. The teacher suggested we try the "Mommy and Me" class. We go over there, they welcome us into their group. Jenna's having fun, she participates. We go to another "station"--the teacher tells her what to do. She screams. She runs away. The teacher goes after her. About to beat her within an inch of her life, I pack up the stuff and we leave. As i'm absoutely FUMING, I buckle her into her seat and am just cussing non-stop in my head. Jenna then leans over, and says in her whispery voice, "Mommy, I love you so much." Damn it! We get home, and she has, without a doubt, the WILDEST day ever. Non-stop, riotous, full-charged, running around like a maniac, energetic, and a bunch more adjectives. I have NEVER seen her like this. It's like someone spiked the milk. It's insane. She finally just passes out at 6:45. YES, that would be six-forty-five P-M. Thank God mom was there. I spent the next hour just saying, "What am I doing wrong with her?" Sunday morning, Scott went out to get the mail--because in Jenna's super-charged whirlwind, I didn't have a moment to go and get it--and what would be inside, but a package from Heather! I opened it, and there it is...the book about the spirited child. I read the first page and almost cried--it's written about Jenna. While Scott fed the girls breakfast, I read. While the girls played in the playroom, I read. While Jenna watched "Dumbo," I read. Let me say, I have a totally different understanding of my spirited child! I used some of the techniques offered in the book, and Sunday was, without a doubt, the best day we've had in MONTHS! Jenna was so well-behaved, so NOT out-of-control! It was awesome! She went to bed, without a fight, at 730 last night, and was asleep by 8. I almost finished the book last night. I'm going to try to finish it tonight, then reread it just to make sure I got everything from it. What I have learned so far, is that Jenna's not "bad." She's energetic! I just have to learn how to parent that type of child!

Make a note of this

As Jenna was sleeping last night, she yelled out, "No! TWO is my favorite number!" What a fight to have.

Rant. And rant some more.

The demon was unleashed at gymnastics this Saturday. Well, kinda, but not really. It would be more proper to say "attention-deficit" kid was unleashed. Yes, that's much more accurate.

Things I should NOT hear the coach say:
1. "Jenna, we're over here, sweetie."
2. "Jenna, we're over here."
3. "Jenna, we're over here!"
4. "Jenna, over here!"
5. "Jenna? Jenna? Over here!"
6. "Jenna, get out of the foam pit."
7. "Jenna, get off the rings."
8. "Jenna, get off the beam."
9. "Jenna...Oh my gosh! No, Jenna! Do NOT do flips off the beam."

Don't get me wrong, it is very well-controlled--it's just that my child is not. She's not BAD, per se, but chooses not to hang with the group. The whole area of parents was laughing at her. Jenna, with the coach chasing after her, would leap over to me and say, "I need kisses, mom!" She has so much energy, it's insane. I actually had parents saying, "Man, how do you keep up with her?" Yes, I know that's a nice way of saying, "Your kid is horrid, what have you done wrong? Have you no parenting skills?!" Kiss my ass, people. My kid challenges authority. (Which often leads to an ass-whippin at home, but hey...)And continuing with the rant...the "non-compliance" of my child, if you will, leads me to the following question: Should we or should we not pull her out of Dot's and put her in full-time preschool? She definitely needs social structure, and she doesn't get it at Dot's. However, last night, she tells me, "Mom, I love Miss Dot so much." Ugh...hard decision. I don't know what to do.

Pale rider

The first day of October?! Jeesh. Today is my first checkup at the oncologist's, where I'm not going in after a biopsy. This is my first real, "Hey, we're just going to look at you," checkup. I'm a little nervous about it. I don't know why--i mean, I've been clear for a couple of months now. I just have this bad feeling that there's more. I wonder if I'll always have this feeling? I've done so well this summer--no sun. I got a little pink when we were in Coz this summer, but it was so little sun, that it was gone the next day. For the first year ever, I have no tan lines. NONE. I am so pale. I really look like a redhead now! My hair is more red than it's ever been, simply because the sun never had a chance to bleach it out. ~*~*~*~*~*~We took Jenna to Chuck E. Cheese last night, then to Baskin Robbins (I still want to call it "31 Flavors" or "31's"--must be the yankee in me coming out). I got her a kids scoop with whipped cream and colored jimmies. She's a nut--she loved it. I still can't believe she's three. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Horrible dream last night. I dreamt that Claire and I were in the auditorium of my high school, eating brownies. I had to wash her hands, so her, Jenna, and 2 other kids went out into the hallway to go to the bathroom. I followed, but when I got out there, Claire was missing. I ran all over, trying to find her, but I couldn't. I asked Jenna where she was, and Jenna ran to the front of the building and pointed to the outside. Weird thing, she was "pointing" using the ASL for "I love you." Anyways, I got this horrible feeling, thinking someone had kidnapped Claire. Then Jenna said, no, that she was at the stairs. I ran over there, and looked down a huge marble, spiral staircase, and I saw her little body about 5 flights down. I screamed in my dream, and I woke myself up. My heart still aches from that dream. I hate that. I wonder if it's my meds.

Snowbaby of death

Every day when I pick up the girls, Clairey HAS to give one of Dot's "Snowbabies" collectibles a kiss--don't know why. So on Wednesday, Dot walks Claire over to the snowbaby, Claire picks it up, and kisses it. Then, Claire wanted ME to kiss it. I walk over to Claire, and lean forward. Claire then proceeds to whack me in the mouth with said snowbaby. My lip busts, and MY FRONT RIGHT TOOTH IS CHIPPED!! Evil, evil little snowbaby!! I went home and filed the tooth, but damn, there's still a chip!!

And the Oscar goes to...

Clairey, Clairey, Clairey. I have never, in all my 30 years, seen such a momma's girl. It's insane. Every waking moment of your little life, you chant a mantra in your head: Must. Have. My. Mommy. As if lending you my boobs for the past 13 months haven't been fulfilling enough, you must have my entire being. Is it really necessary? It it really wise for you to spend all waking hours of your day riding on my once-slender-but-now-wide hips? If I refuse to pick you up, you throw yourself on the ground and wail--it's so very tragic. I should film you in black and white and create our very own film noir. Your face would definitely be half-lit. My little devil.

Pinto beans and pigs

Oh, the wonderful world of gymnastics! Jenna's first gymnastics class was on Saturday the 2nd. I have to admit, I was a tad worried. I mean, I doubt Cypress Academy has ever had the gates of hell opened during preschool tumbling. However, she shocked me and behaved rather well. Watching her was just wonderful. Her teeny-tinyness in that sparkly leotard. Her butt is so small--like two little pinto beans in a leotard. Stinking adorable. I wanted to jump right out of the parents' area, and bite that little pinto-bean butt. However, I was unable to accomplish that feat because Her Royal Highness, Princess Clairey was too busy trying to walk around the gym. Every time I picked her up, she'd shriek like a teradactyl and people would cover their heads and duck--afraid of the impending attack of a prehistoric bird. As soon as I'd set her down, she'd make a sprint for the floor beam then look back at me and flash a huge grin. I could see in her eyes, she was thinking, "Ha ha! Look at me mom, I'm breaking all the rules and laws of the gym! I'm drooling on a beam, I'm on the floor and I'm not supposed to be, and the worst of all: I'm wearing my street shoes on the spring floor! Bwahahaha!" Oh yes, she's a lawbreaker--she's got her mommy's nature. Speaking of my Boo-boo Magoo, she's such a charmer. She has this thing with shoes (ah yes, definitely my child), where they all must be in her mouth. "Shoes! Yes! To my mouth they must go!" Either that, or she has one on her right hand and crawls around with it. If anyone is missing a shoe, all we have to do is go to Clairey's room--it will be there. She also loves her toes. She likes to bite mine, but she likes to suck on hers. We're always saying, "Claire! Quit eating your pigs at the table!" or "Who has stinky pigs? Clairey does!" Cutie pie pig-eater.

How to melt me

Tell me, "Mommy, I love you so much!" as you wrap your arms around my neck and kiss me right on the lips with that precious little pucker of yours. You better move quickly, kid--I adore you so much, that I may just bite off those lucious little lips if you're not quick enough.

Defining moments

This is my baby. My beautiful girl, my sassy-pants princess, my pooh bear, my reflection...



Three years ago, today, I was scared to death. I was about to be a mother. I didn't know how, I didn't know what to do. I was freaking out over the pain I was going through, and I wanted nothing but my epidural. And suddenly, there she was, and at that single, defining moment, my life changed.Motherhood hasn't been easy. It's been difficult, trying, and emotional. It's left me crippled with this disease that I've struggled with all my life, but because of motherhood, has been able to take advantage of the situation and ravaged me. It has changed my relationships with everyone I know, including myself. It makes me worry incessantly, feel lost and out of control, and makes me cry tears that I didn't know I had. However, in that one, single, defining moment--12:59pm, Sept. 30th, 2001--I changed for the better. As I looked at those perfect, tiny fingernails; at each glowing wrinkle in her skin, I felt an accomplishment like never before. Look what I made! Look what we created out of our love! Look! Looking at this lovely little girl now, three years later, I realize how much joy and happiness and elation she has brought into my life. Happiness that was never there before, and a happiness that I would have never known if it weren't for her. She teaches me new things every day. It was her that made me go get help, her that encourages me to be the best mother, her that showed me how to love without fear. Because of her, I'm learning how to be the best mother I can be, both for her, and her sister. There's no way to write how much I love her. No way to put in words, the feeling I get in my heart when she tells me she loves me. There's no way to describe that fiercely protective rush I feel when I hug her--when I hold her in my arms and know that she is part of me. There are no words to describe the heaven I see each night, as I lie next to her in her bed, as she whispers the events of her day and falls asleep with her breath on my cheek and her hand in my hair.She's amazing. An amazing child. Happy birthday to my angel, my blessing, my joy, my Jenna.