Pastors, your Mother's Day stuff is nice and all buuut....

I have friends who skip church for Mother's Day because of you.
After being told she's less of a woman by people who were supposed to be on her side, your decision to have mothers stand and be honored or prayed over by the congregation has driven her decision. Even 50 some-odd years later, my father still grieves the loss of a child, and then the other loss 30ish years ago. My FATHER, a man, who is supposed to apparently be stoic and push aside *his* grief. My own husband is having a difficult time of it himself. My best friend's grandmother had a loss in the 60s, and the doctor was anything but compassionate toward her. She told him to never say that crap again and he was not to return to her room. He returned the next day with more of the same junk, and she threw a bar of soap at his head. She is 50+ years out from that loss, it still burns with an indescribable ache, and she was one of the ones who suffered in silence all these years. Women like her are why I have my big mouth and why I refuse to keep it shut.

So, pastors, get creative. Get compassionate. Get your congregation involved. Get them talking. Get them to understand the pain. Get them to show love to the women with empty arms, even if they also have full ones.

I will keep it simple and share these links with you, because they say it so much better than I could or would. 

http://www.messymiddle.com/an-open-letter-to-pastors-a-non-mom-speaks-about-mothers-day/
http://www.messymiddle.com/Beyond-the-surface-of-mothering

I am NOT saying skip the celebrating of mothers. I am saying shift a couple gears and rework it. I'm saying that while you're celebrating mothers in May and fathers in June, that you plan for October to honor the reason parents grieve too. I'm saying you've got noble intentions, and there is room to make it better. Believe me, word will get out that you do something awesome for the moms-of-a-different-sort, and you will build your community and have a group of women who are going to wrap their arms around newly-grieving families so that they do not suffer in silence like my friend's grandmother and countless other women, or like my father and husband.

I'm getting old, and I don't wanna

This week has already been a roller coaster, and it's only Tuesday.
A few around me are brokenhearted after the loss of loved ones. And then I had an amazing Monday that got punctuated by my sister needing to go to the ER and be admitted to the hospital for a couple days. She will be fine, but she knows how to scare people.

And then... today, is another round of mixed emotions.

This goofy kid......

..... is the future of the Marine Corps

Easter - come and gone

I went to Mass as usual. I hope you're in a chair. Oldest voluntarily came with us. No lightening struck him as he entered either. Lots of my friends were genuinely surprised and happy to see him. As usual the baby got passed back and forth. My friend MS usually ends up holding the baby. Today Mini-Human was also with Oldest and his friend that accompanied us. The lady behind them asked if it was their baby. She was obviously a visitor or she attends a different Mass time. It seems that almost everyone knows who my baby is. Anyway, MS takes Mini-Human up to Communion with her, and today ended up walking all the way back around after Communion because the other end of our pew was full of people who didn't go up to receive Communion. Beast is an usher, and was last in line. He nabbed Mini-Human from MS, and finished his "route", with his baby sister tucked into the crook of his arm. I could hear "aww" in whispered waves as he walked past the pews. Then he took her with him to the back of the church and the other female ushers were gushing over the baby.

We then went to the store for a few things and I came home and started the side dishes. The ham was in the crockpot. I <3 my crockpot, and I don't use it enough - even though I have 3 of differing sizes.
I decided that instead of making the Dr Pepper ham recipe I got from an old board buddy a few years ago, I would try this one instead. I was lacking the brown sugar, but it was good nonetheless. It would definitely be better with the brown sugar. Devildog requested black eye peas, cornbread and pan roasted potatoes. Nah, he's not a starch-lovin' kind of guy at all.
As a last minute addition while I was in the store today, I decided to get a couple cucumbers and tomatoes. My friend BL made this cucumber-tomato salad last week for her dinner the day she "borrowed" the Mini-Human. I got the recipe from her and there might be half a cup of it left in my fridge now. I'm sure Oldest will finish it in the next 18 hours.
We dyed eggs using food coloring, and I much prefer that method to the tablet kits. I already have the very handy & versatile food coloring, and I only need about 5 or 6 colors. It appears that my crew prefers blue and green with a little pink and orange for variety. Clone broke out her white crayon for drawing pictures on the eggs. Just a tip...if you want to over-dye something, wait for the blue to dry first before you dunk it in the yellow. The yellow doesn't recover from being assaulted by the blue.
The kids' Easter baskets were not what I would have liked, but they were better than they could have been. Mini-Human's had a book and a bath duck. The older 3 got the bunny, some jelly beans, gum, Reese's, Twizzlers, trail mix and lollipops. The boys got travel hygiene kits and the Clone got a set of headbands. She wasn't happy with that. I told her not to be ungrateful. She thinks she's a big kid, and expects that when the boys get grown-up things, she should too. Mom & Dad's basket had new coffee cups with intact handles and free of chips on the rim. She would have been happy with a new coffee cup too I think.

Like this Easter, having come and gone, so move my children too.

Milestones

Clone is just a tad more than a month away from receiving First Communion. This special occasion calls for a white dress, white shoes, and white veil. A couple friends offered to loan me their daughters' dresses. I would have done that if I couldn't swing the money for it. Thankfully I was thinking ahead and started looking early. We have the requisite white dress. It's a lightweight, slightly adorned number with a layered skirt. She needs a veil too, and I decided that I can make one a lot cheaper than buying one. It could just as easily get more expensive though too. However the least expensive I've seen is $10 for just the veil - no means to affix it to her head. The clips, headbands, combs & crowns add up. For some reason the price triples because it's "bridal" supplies. She wants 2 layers (so she can pull one layer over her face - she watches too much "Say Yes to the Dress"), a tiara, and a decorative edging. We scoped out some trim today. We found one trim that is adorned with something similar to what's on the dress. I will also look in a couple other places to see if there is anything else that strikes our fancy. I'm not overly fond of the tiara idea, but I did see a hair comb with a small tiara somewhere recently. She's a bit of a peanut and I don't want to go overboard with the whole princess getup either, so the smaller the tiara the better. I happened across the dress in a second-hand store while still waddling pregnant with the Mini-Human. I found the shoes (heels - the Clone swooned!) in another second hand store. I told her the ONLY reason she was getting them was because she needs white shoes for this, they're dressy, and she is ONLY going to be permitted to wear them to church. I don't let her wear heels for a number of reasons. First of all I don't believe little kids have any business wearing heels outside of very special occasions, and I'd bet I have a thousand podiatrists ready to back me up on that one. Second, she has my feet. I won't even explain my feet here. Neither of us have time for that right now. So, heels are special occasion shoes only. This special occasion, all the girls dress up like little princess brides. My tomboy diva princess wants a tiara on her veil. I'm just glad I lack the skills to knit lace, because I was briefly (and I do mean BRIEFLY) tempted to knit a veil for Clone. Perusing Ravelry's projects pages of veils revealed that I can not spend 6 hours each day for the next month knitting a veil. It might have worked if I started it last year or even the year before. But some tulle, a decorative hair comb, some lace trim, needle, thread, possibly beading wire and/or hot glue - that I can do. And I can squeeze it in while Mini-Human takes naps.

Mini-Human is getting so big and I'm like "WAIT, SLOW DOWN!" She'll be 6 months old this weekend, and she's crawling, pulling up on things, trying to walk (she REALLY REALLY wants to GO and she just hasn't developed the physical skills fully yet, but the desire is there), and trying to sit up on her own. Tonight I left her in the den on her tummy, went to another room, and immediately came back to find her sitting up all by herself. Beast was 4 feet away watching tv, so he totally missed it. She was very proud of herself as she played with the office supply mini catalog that fell on the floor. There was no repeat performance so I could send a picture message to a certain list of people. A watched pot never boils, and a watched baby never performs on demand either.

While these milestones are awesome to watch and make me smile....I am so not ready for them.

And the adventure begins....

After my last post, I went to bed, woke up a few hours later and called the hospital to make sure they were available for the induction and some freak force hadn't sent 30 other women to the hospital in the throes of labor. All systems were go, and I was on my way to evict a baby. I am just going to post a "reader's digest" version for now, other details may appear later as time permits.
I got to the hospital, was put into a room, with one of those *lovely* gowns that are too big for me, even that pregnant. Can we raid pediatrics for a gown more my size?
The doctor broke my water at 8, pitocin was started at 9 after several attempts to get the darn IV to not pinch me. I finally asked that it be redone because there was no "unpinching" of the first.
By 11 I was not having a party by any means.
By 12 I was a sniveling baby.
By 12:30 I was fighting the contractions and whining about an epidural.
At 12:50 I asked for the epidural.
The nurse called the anesthesiologist, stepped into the hallway for the epidural cart and brought it in, turned around to do something w/ the monitor and
At 12:51 I had to push - no time for epidural now because the baby exit was completely ready for the baby to leave the nest.
At 12:56 the baby was out - yelling that she was cold and did not appreciate having landed on the end of the bed. She only landed there because things moved so fast the bed didn't get broken down, and the doctor had to pause to unwrap the cord from the baby's neck.
The doctor almost didn't get to the room in time, barely got her hands into gloves and had to change clothes when she was done. It was a war zone for a few minutes. We were the talk of the maternity unit, and the OB's office.

My hips are still bothering me, and I think I broke my tailbone again. I need to go see a chiropractor for a realignment. It's been a busy week, and looking busier as time goes forward.

Her name means "peace-maker", she has a lot of hair, very functional lungs and a huge appetite.
For the sake of the blog...I might keep her name as Thumper, or change it to something like Torpedo. Heck, I might even go with Nascar for her - she goes from zero to sixty in no time flat.

And in other news....

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAST! Sorry, I didn't get you much for your birthday but I did get you a little sister ;) Yea, I know...I suck at this mom thing apparently.

Happy Birthday US Marine Corps

You look good for your age ;) This post should have been posted sooner but it didn't happen. Call me distracted by real life and watching Food Network with my kids after dinner while they pined for the remote. I was in a bit of a coma, from making something salisbury steak like (The Devildog ate it, so it must have been safe) and having wine with my dinner. Shhhhh don't tell Devildog that I actually catnapped on the futon while watching Food Network. This after catnapping in the bed while snuggling with the Devildog before I made dinner. I had hamburger meat thawed, so I gave him the option of the meal. The rule in our house is the Birthday Person gets to choose, within reason and family budget. Salisbury Steak, Mashed Potatoes and Green beans is what he wanted. Southern? Why, yes, what gave you that idea about him? He's caused me a loss of some yankee tendencies over the years, including being stationed at Camp Lejune, NC, where everyone thought I was from New York. Except that those truly FROM New York knew better. I was too Southern to be a Yankee. But to the Southerners, I was too Yankee to be Southern. I will forgive him and the Corps for that move, because ultimately I did a lot of learning at that duty station, and even had ample amounts of stupidity. At Navy Marine Corps Relief Society, I learned much needed basic office skills, and how to crochet from the ladies in the layette room. It just took another 7 years for me to really get the hang of hook and yarn. I learned to cook some of Devildog's favorite recipes, like Catalina Chicken and Pork Chops & Sour Cream, immense thanks to Jessica Torrence from Tennesee. Hilda Muguerza, mother of Laura Torres, of Round Rock, Texas gave me the recipe for her Enchiladas and her Migas. I still have them tucked into the old Good Housekeeping cookbook longtime family friend Janie gave me when I turned 18. I got Peach Cobbler, Hamburger Casserole, Banana Bread, and the value of vinegar in the laundry when dealing with smelly PT gear, potty training children or forgotten loads of wash from Jana Anderson of Salt Lake City, UT. As much as Devildog didn't care for Ladera (last name and hometown withheld), I learned valuable lessons from her experiences as the daughter of a Marine Major and an elevated Federal staffer. I learned how to act confident, even if I wasn't, and I learned what resources to make use of and ask for myself. In the military, the general unwritten rule is "if you didn't ask for it, you didn't rate it", despite what the manual states. I borrowed books from the other Patricia from Indiana in our little corner, and I found Pam & Peggy in a book that sort of understood me, and years later I found another of their students that I follow.
I didn't intend for this post to wax nostalgic about the handful of years at Camp Lejune and while my husband was in the Marines. However, it's part of the sum of my experiences with the Marine Corps. It helped shape who I am now, much of it out of necessity. I was 500 miles from my family with two children and a lot to learn. I didn't learn it all, but I did learn. So, while I did not enter the gates of Parris Island a poolie recruit and leave a Marine, I did benefit from what the Marines as a whole taught me. I became better, stronger, and more confident for having married a Marine and joining the brotherhood as a Marine's Wife.
Semper Fi

another year, another ... something

We've managed to not kill each other another year. We're almost halfway to my parents' record of 33-ish years. We've made more compromises than we'd care to admit, because a bloody mess would have been difficult to explain. Plus we figured that someone should teach the valuable life skill to our children in the form of a living example of a working model. OK, so it's merely a work in progress and we are not anywhere near what we envisioned 14 years ago, on a Friday afternoon at the county courthouse. Of course we were drunk with something...me postpartum everything, post-bootcamp-reunion hormones, and him bootcamp-reunion plus just hormones. We did it backwards, but we did it. Courthouse, followed by a brief reception from the Wendy's Drive Thru, then on to pick up his Step-mom from work, since we had her car. Later that night we went to a movie, and then stopped at my parents' house to inform them of the goings-on that day. It was much less contention than trying to get the splintered sides of our families together for a momentous event. Corralling cats would have been easier and less stressful.
Tonight I was struck with the urge to bake my peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, and went with it. I actually had just enough ingredients to make it happen. So while he was off bleeding orange again, I baked. The temperatures are vastly cooler than last week's eighty degrees, so baking was not going to overheat the house. I planned on getting some cookies prepped in advance for the winter holiday baking frenzy I want to enjoy but never do. I scooped some of the batter out, and baked some cookies. The kids helped. As I tucked the clone into bed the timer buzzed and I told her I had to leave or the cookies would be burned. She said she likes them that way, which was met with "if I burn them you can have them after school tomorrow." The Beast likes burnt food too. I have weird kids and I'll be the first to tell you that.
I made one big cookie for the husband....and when I showed it to him he said "that's a big'un.
"It's yours"
"and it's not even burnt"



Welcome to the dark side. We have cookies.