Pizza Waffles

I am an avid Stumbler. By avid, I mean obsessed. Anyhow. I stumbled upon a recipe that blew my mind. Pizza Waffles! This is genius. As with any recipe I come across, it is subject to my interpretation. Here is what you will need for my version:
-2 cans of refrigerated crescent rolls
-small jar of pizza sauce (or leftover marinara sauce from a previous dinner)
-shredded cheese of your choice ( I used a mexican blend)
-pepperonis (or not)
-garlic powder
-some sort of oil spray
-and of course, a waffle iron

Carefully open your can of crescent rolls. Mine didn't open when I peeled the paper, so I had to jam a butter knife into the seam. Naturally, causing a near fatal explosion. Once you calm down from the recent heart condition you developed after opening the can, pull the roll apart at the perforated center. set one half aside and unroll the other half.


You should get 4 trianglish shapes. As you can see, mine were more abstract. Stupid Food Lion generic bullshit. Any how, mash up 2 triangles forming rectangle. Repeat with the other two (or three) tria.. er shapes.


Once you get something that looks like this, you will want to sprinkle one side of each rectangle with garlic powder. I must have been sensing a vampire attack so I put a shit ton on mine. I think a light sprinkle should be enough, though.


Flip one rectangle over and spread about a teaspoon of sauce not quite to the edge


Add the cheese like so. And pepperonis, if you fancy those.


Place the 2nd rectangle, garlic side up on top and smoosh the edges together


I should have said at some point before now to get your waffle iron heated up, so yeah, you might wanna do that. Whatever setting you make your waffles on is good so no need to change any settings or anything.

Spray your super awesome antique waffle iron with whatever oil spray you have. Oh your waffle iron isn't cool like mine? My bad. Best freecycle request EVER!


Gently place your waffle masterpiece in the hot iron. Without injury, try to get it as close to the back as you can. Well whaddaya know? Looks like my waffle iron was MADE for this recipe. Perfect fit!


Close your lid, but DO NOT PUSH IT DOWN! You will lose all your cheesy goodness to the side of the waffle iron. The weight of the lid alone should be just enough to do the job.


My light turns green when my waffle is done. If yours doesn't, well, I have no clue what to tell you. Just peek at it after about 2 minutes. When it looks done, it probably is. Carefully remove it and plop that bad mamma jamma on a plate


Let it cool for a minute. Slice it into fours, and serve with some pizza sauce for dipping.


Happy Customers! Except Jazz. She looks kind of horrified that she has to put food in her mouth.

Independence Day

Happy Fourth of July! This is just a short little note to thank all the men an women who have served and who still serve. Thank you for our Freedom. Without it, we wouldn't be able to sit at our computer, naked, eating leftover macaroni and cheese with bacon in it for breakfast. Which I am totally NOT doing this morning. Ok, OK! so, maybe I am. But it is because of your sacrifices I have the freedom to do this, and that is what is important.
Please be careful in your celebrations today. I know tomorrow, the news will be filled with dumb asses who have set something, or themselves on fire. Oh yes, and most importantly, do not drink and drive.
Happy celebrating today folks.
CHEERS!
~Amber

Found this in a forum I am on

Some Mothers Get Babies with Something More by Lori Borgman (author)
SOME MOTHERS GET BABIES WITH SOMETHING MORE… My friend is expecting her first child. People keep asking what she wants. She smiles demurely, shakes her head and gives the answer mothers have given throughout the ages of time. She says it doesn’t matter whether it’s a boy or a girl. She just wants it to have ten fingers and ten toes. Of course, that’s what she says. That’s what mothers have always said. Mothers lie. Truth be told, every mother wants a whole lot more. Every mother wants a perfectly healthy baby with a round head, rosebud lips, button nose, beautiful eyes and satin skin. Every mother wants a baby so gorgeous that people will pity the Gerber baby for being flat-out ugly. Every mother wants a baby that will roll over, sit up and take those first steps right on schedule. Every mother wants a baby that can see, hear, run, jump and fire neurons by the billions. She wants a kid that can smack the ball out of the park and do toe points that are the envy of the entire ballet class. Call it greed if you want, but we mothers want what we want. Some mothers get babies with something more. Some mothers get babies with conditions they can’t pronounce, a spine that didn’t fuse, a missing chromosome or a palette that didn’t close. Most of those mothers can remember the time, the place, the shoes they were wearing and the color of the walls in the small, suffocating room where the doctor uttered the words that took their breath away. It felt like recess in the fourth grade when you didn’t see the kick ball coming and it knocked the wind clean out of you. Some mothers leave the hospital with a healthy bundle, then, months, even years later, take him in for a routine visit, or schedule her for a well check, and crash head first into a brick wall as they bear the brunt of devastating news. It can’t be possible! That doesn’t run in our family. Can this really be happening in our lifetime? I am a woman who watches the Olympics for the sheer thrill of seeing finely sculpted bodies. It’s not a lust thing; it’s a wondrous thing. The athletes appear as specimens without flaw – rippling muscles with nary an ounce of flab or fat, virtual powerhouses of strength with lungs and limbs working in perfect harmony. Then the athlete walks over to a tote bag, rustles through the contents and pulls out an inhaler. As I’ve told my own kids, be it on the way to physical therapy after a third knee surgery, or on a trip home from an echo cardiogram, there’s no such thing as a perfect body. Everybody will bear something at some time or another. Maybe the affliction will be apparent to curious eyes, or maybe it will be unseen, quietly treated with trips to the doctor, medication or surgery. The health problems our children have experienced have been minimal and manageable, so I watch with keen interest and great admiration the mothers of children with serious disabilities, and wonder how they do it. Frankly, sometimes you mothers scare me. How you lift that child in and out of a wheelchair 20 times a day. How you monitor tests, track medications, regulate diet and serve as the gatekeeper to a hundred specialists yammering in your ear. I wonder how you endure the praise and the platitudes, well-intentioned souls explaining how God is at work when you’ve occasionally questioned if God is on strike. I even wonder how you endure schmaltzy pieces like this one saluting you, painting you as hero and saint, when you know you’re ordinary. You snap, you bark, you bite. You didn’t volunteer for this. You didn’t jump up and down in the motherhood line yelling, “Choose me, God! Choose me! I’ve got what it takes.” You’re a woman who doesn’t have time to step back and put things in perspective, so, please, let me do it for you. From where I sit, you’re way ahead of the pack. You’ve developed the strength of a draft horse while holding onto the delicacy of a daffodil. You have a heart that melts like chocolate in a glove box in July, carefully counter-balanced against the stubbornness of an Ozark mule. You can be warm and tender one minute, and when circumstances require intense and aggressive the next. You are the mother, advocate and protector of a child with a disability. You’re a neighbor, a friend, a stranger I pass at the mall. You’re the woman I sit next to at church, my cousin and my sister-in-law. You’re a woman who wanted ten fingers and ten toes, and got something more. You’re a wonder.

G-Tube update

Went to see the girls' GI Specialist, Dr. Freeman, today. Both girls are gaining great, a little too great. I never thought I would EVER hear that. Here is the rundown on each kid.

JAZZMIN:
59.8lbs. vitals all great. Cutting her back from 1.5 cal formula to 1.0 formula and increasing the volume by 4 ounces. Got the report from her sleep study a few weeks ago. Impression: "This study is abnormal due to the presence of: 1. prolonged sleep latency and frequent arousals, some of which may be the testing environment and noise from the feeding machine." Pretty much means that she takes a prolonged period of time to fall asleep and woke up several times during the night. The report said she woke up an average of 8 times an hour and a total of 55 arousals. That seems like an awful lot. No onder she acts like a cranky, moody, hormonal teenager! Her pump isn't loud at all really, and I do not recall it having alarmed at all during the study. Not sure how the constant light whirring of her pump would have caused her to wake up. Also said that there was a total of 6 respiratory events. 4 central apneas and 2 hypopnea. So what does this all mean? Not a freaking clue. Now we have to see a neurologist. Probably have to go back to Chapel Hill because there isn't a pediatric neurologist who specializes in sleep disorders here in Wilmington. No change in meds.

SOLARA:
38.4lbs! vitals all great. Cutting her formula in half from 24oz. to 12oz. and completing the missing 12oz volume with water. She is consistently gaining great, but keeping her on this rate will send her BMI over our ideal percentile. We noted that she has very sweaty hands and feet ALL the time and complains she feels hot when no one else does. She also had her first g-tube replacement today after multiple episodes of panic of me trying to do it at home over the last few months. She has had the same button since her surgery in December and it wasn't holding water in the balloon very well anymore. Boy was that thing gross when we got it out. She is on a compounded formula of Xifaxin and it is so super orange. It stains everything it touches. Her connector extensions are all a stained yellowy-orange and so was the button. Now she has a shiny new mic-key button. Got a prescription for the AMT Mini-one button sent to the health care supply company. Jazzmin has this one and I love how low-profile it is. Definitely a lot less noticeable.


Nothing much more to report. We did get to see our friend Lauren today. She and her little brother are tubies too and we see the same doc. Little brother, Brent, wasn't feeling well though. Hopefully we can set up a sleepover at our house with Lauren. The kids don't get to do that very often. I am sure they would have a great time. We shall see! My girls have only ever stayed with my mom and that is NOT often at all! I have a hard time with it all. Convincing a momma of a tubie to let them stay over night somewhere is not an easy task, even when its with someone who has been trained to care for them. Such is the life!



CHEERS!

What did I eat last night?

So I have the weirdest dreams. This is one from last night.

I am driving down Mt. Misery Rd. headed toward Leland. About a mile before I reach 74/76, I see a HUGE black bear on the right side of the road. It was obviously hurt and laying on its side. Her baby was sitting in front of her belly. I decided I was going to pull the car over and "help" these HUGE freaking bears. Not really sure what I could do, I pulled over just past where the bears were. The kids were in the car, and I left them in the car while I went to assess the situation. The momma had a huge gash on her right hip (she was laying on her left side) and her right leg looked broken. I called somebody, I don't know who it was but it was a man. And by the urgency I took to contact him, he had to be someone who knew how to handle a HUGE freaking bear. He arrived instantly. Like he just appeared out of nowhere. I asked if I could hold the baby bear. It was heavier than my eight year old. Soooo cute and fluffy. The "man" remind me that the bear might bite because it is wild. I didn't care. It was all cuddly like a puppy, licking my face and pawing at my right hand. Then the little shit bit my index finger, but not hard enough to draw blood. The man had the situation under control and I headed to the grocery store.

It was the Food Lion I was enslaved by for so many years, but it looked different. The kids were no longer with me. I didn't get them out of the car, they were not there. The cashiers were wearing red and white thin striped aprons. I went through produce picking up various things and putting them back down, never putting anything in my cart (much like any REAL shopping experience for me). I went through the meat section and did the same thing, picking up packs of meat from the cases in the center of the big aisle and putting them back. I went down a middle grocery aisle. It had baby food and magazines, I needed spices. As I would leave one aisle, it would shift and change, morphing into different grocery items just as I would round the corner to the next aisle. I ended up at the end of the store where the dairy section is and still had not found the spices. My cart was still empty. There was a big pallet of bottled water next to me and I noticed I had a lit cigarette in my hand. One of the stockers came out of the back room pulling another pallet of bottled water and told me the new store manager was coming and I might want to get rid of my cigarette. He took it for me and went into the broom closet. I followed him. It was much more spacious on the inside than it looked on the outside. Kind of like the Tardis, with more red carpet and brooms and lot less Dr. Who. He put the cigarette out on the red carpet, pulled a lever on the wall and the entire floor flipped over revealing a gray indoor-outdoor carpet. Moore suitable for a grocery store than the plush red carpet he had just ruined by putting out my cigarette. (For those of you who do not know, I don't even smoke)I left and pushed my empty shopping cart outside.

I strolled over to the drink machines because I saw a familiar face standing over there. It was my little brother, Chris. He was frustrated because he didn't have a ride and his phone wasn't sending text messages or something. He said he was trying to get a hold of our Dad to come get him. I let him borrow my phone. It smelled like it had just rained. The ground was wet and it was muggy. I saw a rainbow in the sky but it was faint. I wanted to take a picture of it so I asked Chris for my phone back. The rainbow kept fading in and out and Chris was taking his time giving me my phone and I was getting irritated. Once he handed it back to me I had a good clear shot and tried to open the camera app on my phone. I started yelling at Chris, accusing him of doing something to my phone but my phone wasn't working right. All the app buttons were micro small and I could not navigate my phone. He said he didn't do anything. I was pissed. No rainbow picture. I continued to try and get my phone to work when a small plane landed on the side of the store to pick us up. This did not seem unusual at all to me and Chris and I got in and we took off. We accelerated on a very steep incline, high into the clouds. There was only two seats that were connected to each other right behind the wall where the pilot was. there was room enough behind us for another seat just like ours and room enough on the other side of the plane for 2 more seats just like ours. It was all open empty space. The inside of the plane was a dulled silver metal finish. After we reached our height, we journeyed forward for only a few minutes. Then we started on a rapid decline at accelerated speeds that made me lift off of my seat. For some reason I wasn't scared that we may be crashing, just a little nervous because of the speed. Like, I had flown this way before, but was just not used to it.

Upon our rapid decline, I noticed two flying white unicorns out of the right side window. They were side by side and my phone was still acting up so I took Chris'. I videoed them flying by. They were moving way faster than we were. As I handed Chris his phone back I saw another one. As I got my phone to record I only got from the torso back, it was just a blur. Chris could care less. He was at the window on our side of the plane, listening to his headphones while looking out the window. I felt so excited about seeing these creatures. I couldn't wait to show everyone to footage of them flying at super speeds. We landed back at Food Lion on the side of the building we were standing at before we left in the plane. Chris kept on his headphones and I returned to my empty shopping cart and we waited. My dad pulled into the parking lot in the old brown conversion van he used to have 13 years ago. It was the van he used for his painting company. He pulled up to us and Chris got in. I asked if he could give me a ride and noticed the rainbow was still there. He said sure, hop in. I took a picture of the rainbow and got in the van.

~THE END~

Quick update

Things have been hectic. Last two weeks of school and I have been running around like a chicken with my head cut off. I feel like I have been going non-stop for weeks. Just to get you up to speed:
- Jazz had an over night sleep study in Chapel Hill 2 weeks ago. The tech who did the study, although very nice, reminded me of the principal from the Adam Sandler movie, Billy Madison. Weird. No results as of yet. I have lots of video I haven't uploaded yet.
- Saw GI and small changes to their feedings. Jazz has increased volume by 4 ounces and Solara switched to a fiber formula. Both strongly encouraged to increase their water intake.
-Family portraits done by Kathryn Falconer Photography downtown last week. I cannot wait to get those. Had a sneak peek to 4 pics and its killing me!
-I have sunburn on my upper thighs, and no where else. My legs are on fire. I seriously contemplated making today a no pants day, but I had shit to do in public and realized there was a hole in my underwear.
- Introduced the fiancée to the magical wonders of Margaritas
- Did an interview with a local radio station sharing the story of my girls and the care they receive at the hospital here. They are using it for their Radio-Thon in September to raise funds for the children's hospital. I did not sound like an asshole like I thought I would and I didn't even cry, I am so proud of myself. Got to take a tour of the studio and met some DJ's I listen to on a daily basis. pretty freaking awesome. Well except for that Susanne DJ. She pisses me off.
-My soon to be sister-in-law compared me to the Southpark version of Dog the Bounty Hunter's wife. follow that link...I was not amused.
- Had some sales in my Etsy shop this week and working on custom stuff. WOOT!
- The baby shit in the bathtub today. that was a glorious experience.
- Aforementioned baby turned 3 this past week. And by 3, I totally mean 30. She is such a demanding, screechy little human.
- In a fit of road rage, blew my horn at a jack ass driver, gave him the finger and called him an asshole. My 3 year old very excitedly told me "Mommy, that was AWESOME!!!" Another proud mommy moment. I laughed pretty hard about all that.
-Ate a cheeseburger with a krispy kreme donut as a bun. Most delicious thing on the planet, I might add.

I know I am forgetting a ton of shit right now but, whatever. There you go. CHEERS!

Its like this was written from my own mind

Found this on the interwebs today. I was inspired. i can read picture on VisualizeUs

Solara, for President of the United Sates of America

Wrapping up a wonderful Mother's Day dinner with some lemon meringue pie early yesterday evening and 6 year old Solara sparks an interesting conversation out of the blue. "I want to be the President when I grow up." Well, now. That is entirely possible, thinking to myself. She promptly adds her 3 rules and laws during her presidency. In her exact words....

#1. You will be allowed to jump on the bed.

#2. You can make a mess and you don't have to clean it up. You can just step over it in the little spaces on the floor.

and last, but not least.....

#3. You can make anything [to eat] you want, even if its disgusting and even if you don't know how to bake.


Little does she know how her rules convey to the world, my excellent parenting skills.

#1. (You will be allowed to jump on the bed.) This says I am protective of my children and care about their safety and well being. Jumping on the bed is extremely dangerous and will 99% of the time result in injury that may or may not include impalement of a small toy.

#2. (You can make a mess and you don't have to clean it up. You can just step over it in the little spaces on the floor.) This says not only do I value the safety of my children, but their over-all hygiene as well. Tidy rooms prevent spaces for critters to hide, injuries from tripping, and impalements from jumping on the bed.

#3. (You can make anything [to eat] you want, even if its disgusting and even if you don't know how to bake.) This says that as a parent, I may be cautious and over protective of my children, being a little adventurous is beneficial. You may think you cannot do things, but try it anyhow. You just may find that you like it or you may realize you have a talent for something you never knew you were capable of.


I didn't receive a bunch of expensive store bought gifts for Mother's day this year. (or any year.)I actually cooked and cleaned and did laundry, just like any other day. What I did get was the help and love of a good man, some beautiful handmade gifts from the kids, and an excellent perspective and recognition of my mothering. I hope all you Mommies out there felt the love of your children yesterday. That is truly what the Mother's Day is about.

CHEERS!

FYI: Its NOT Wednesday

This would have been useful to me in the middle of the freak out I had this morning when thinking of all the shit I had to do today, thinking it was, in fact, Wednesday. I was overwhelmed to say the least. Took the girls to school (kicking and screaming practically). Solara must have asked me 4 times to check her forehead to make sure she was not running a fever. She was as cool as a cucumber but about as annoying as a fire ant bite between your toes. I dropped them off and headed to meet my gal for breakfast at Empire Bagel. Go there. Eat an Everything bagel, toasted, with ham, egg and cheese. Its so awesome, you'll wanna slap yo momma and thank me later. Quick trip to the dollar store for some bubble envelopes. Gotta mail something later.

Went home to get the stuff I needed to mail and prepare for the rest of what I thought was going to be a ridiculously busy afternoon. I soaked up as much time on Facebook as I could before my 2 year old could take over the computer. I thought that I would leave around 1ish. The girls had back to back dentist appointments at 3 so I had to get them from school by 2. But on the way I had to stop for gas, drop package at the post office and go by Tammy's to pick something up. After the dentist (still thinking its wednesday)The girls had back to back soccer practices. I will have to squeeze food and homework in here somewhere. Them home for showers and night time bed/g-tube feeding routines. And then I look at my calendar. Dentist is on Tuesday. Look at the computer and notice the date was the 3rd and it was Tuesday!!! YAY!! Now I can at least eliminate the soccer practices which is about 2 hours of crying children coupled with being eaten alive by gnats. I get to save that wonderfulness for tomorrow!!

I stopped to get gas first because it was first on my way. I was almost empty and have a field trip to go on to Myrtle Beach tomorrow, I gotta fill 'er up. To avoid the probable panic attack of watching the gas price roll over, I decided to dispose of some trash collecting in the van while the pump did its thing. During my hunt for garbage, I found a petrified waffle, 4 corn pops and some unidentified crumbs between the booster seats. $63 later, I am on my way to the post office.

SIKE! (yes, I did just say sike) I drove right by the damn post office! Screw it. I do not have time to turn around. I made it to Tammy's and I can talk to this woman forever. I almost did. I looked at the clock and had 3 minutes to make it to the school by 2 and I was still 10 minutes away. Still made it to the dentist on time though.

The dentist was a complete nightmare. 3 unruly children who would not listen to a damn word I said, in a 12x12 waiting room of about 10 chairs, with a woman who insisted on repeatedly telling my children to behave because the tooth fairy was watching them. I called Steven and told him to come get the baby on his way home because this was all to much for me to handle in such a small space. I really wanted to knock that woman's teeth out. I knew this trip was not gonna be awesome. Solara & Jazz go back. The last time we went to a dentist, the jerk was not kid friendly and scared my kid so bad she pissed herself and I left in the middle of the exam. So it has been some time trying to get them into a dentist. They are definitely traumatized. Solara flipped the hell out. She sounded like a fire truck from the waiting room. She sounded off for a good 20 minutes and then it was quiet. I figured she either passed out from screaming, or they knocked her out with some sort of blunt object. 10 minutes later, she came out bouncing and happy with her bag of goodies and zero cavities. Never did get her x-rays done though. Jazzmin's turn! apparently she was more hesitant than Solara was. Hard to believe because I didn't hear a peep outta her. Her mouth is very small and they couldn't get x-rays done. She fought them about getting in the chair. She has 8 cavities and is being sent to a pediatric sedation dentist because she is just not gonna have anything to do with this dentist business.

Got home and fought with the children for over an hour about doing homework, ate pizza and got our nightly routine started. After the kids were all in bed, I had to get out of the house. I needed a donut. Ok, so I needed a whole bunch of donuts. Whatever. After wondering around Walmart for an hour, I had acquired a cart full of randomness.9 Krispy Kreme donuts (they only had boxes of 9, not 12 WTF is that bullshit?!), a wonderful new flavor of oreo's (creamsicle limited edition!!) 4 light switch covers, spray paint, spray adhesive, sauerkraut, black acrylic paint, pork chops, tomato paste and laundry soap. You know, the normal essentials. At the check out I realize my credit card is in the fucking van from when I stopped to get gas. I guess I was distracted by all the science projects I discovered in my backseat and forgot to put it back in my wallet. This cashier is like "I guess you better run". I am fat. I do not run. If a dog or a tiger is chasing me, I am not running. I am just gonna lie on the ground and hope he doesn't gnaw on me too bad. Feeling the pressure of the sighing customers (aka soon to be angry mob if I don't hurry my fat ass up cause there is only 2 lines open)I jogged and jiggled to the van and made it back just as she was putting my bags in my cart. Breathing was burning my lungs. I made it to the car without passing out. On the way home, I fist pumped wildly with my left arm out the window as I listened to Ke$ha (Blow) and Brittany Spears (Till the World Ends) as loud as my little speakers would go.

I was torn between the oreos and the donuts when I got home. I went for the donuts because they were my reason for going to the store anyhow. I needed some donuts. But thanks to the douchebag cashier who made me run to my car, I was nauseous and did not enjoy my donuts. Bitch.

Theres always tomorrow.

New Post (by popular demand)

So not so many words with this one, but here are some photos of the ideal look for the wedding. Enjoy!

And the "Douchebag Of The Year" award goes to....

No drum roll please. My ex-husband is THE douchey-est of all the douchebags. Here's a few facts about this so-called "man"
1. He is 31.
2. Balding.
3. Slightly overweight (in the form of beer gut fashion)
4. Probably unemployed (again)
5. In various Metal Bands, convinced he will someday be a rockstar.
6. Is in debt of over $7,000 in child support, it will be $8,119 after May 1st.

I could go on and on about him, seriously. I think my fingers might fall off from all the hate typing.

I call him the "Holiday Dad". He ONLY ever calls or sees the kids on a holiday.

Lets back up to our last telephone conversation. February 24, 2011 approximately 1 o'clock ish in the morning. He calls to check on our youngest (my youngest is not his, but the older 2 share his stupid fucking DNA). She had to stay up all night that night for a sleep deprived EEG test in the morning. Mind you, keeping a 6 year old awake for 24 hours was an adventure. The only reason he was even calling was because I felt obligated to call him and let him know that she was having seizure-type symptoms and needed this test and I thought he should be aware of it since the last time he called was her birthday (3 weeks before). Anyhoo, back to the conversation at 1 am. We were in the middle of a game called Headbands when he called. He asked to speak to her. He talked to her for like maybe a minute and then asked to speak to me. Remember now, Its like almost 1:30 in the morning. He said it sounded like we were having fun and asked to come and hang out. Um, noooo. WTF?! I politely said that Steven and I were ok, we were doing fine keeping her awake. He got so irritated when I said no. Kept telling me it was fucked up. She was his daughter and I wasn't allowing him to come see her. I said this was my and Steven's home and I didn't feel comfortable with him just hanging out. I surely didn't want to make Steven uncomfy. Why is it so important now to come see her at 1 in the morning but not so much as call for weeks at a time?! We have been divorced for almost 5 years now. We are less than friendly to each other because he is such a fucking douchebag, as I mentioned before. He went in to this maniacal rage telling me I was an unfit mother, he could prove it. His family didn't understand why he hasn't taken them from me. Steven is not their dad. Blah blah blah, the next time I hear from him it will be from his lawyer. I laughed and said oh really, so you can afford to pay for a lawyer, but you cannot pay your child support? Which by the way, court is in 2 weeks. He replied that he had yet to be served and he doesn't have to go as long as they don't serve him with papers. I hung up on him. Court date came and went, he was not served. Big shocker there.

Easter!!! Guess who is ringing the phone, interrupting my lovely dinner with my soon to be in-laws? Oh no, it is NOT the douchebag's lawyer, it is the douchebag himself!! I sent the call to the voicemail. He called again, again I sent it to voicemail. Sorry Holiday Dad!! He does not leave a message. He didn't call back until we were in the car on the way home and I answered. He asked what I was doing and I told him I was driving home. Then he asks if there is any way he can speak to the girls and tell them happy easter. I wanted to say no, but I am just not that person. I try to be, but my heart breaks for my children and I never want to ever be the reason they were not able to have a relationship with their father. He talks to them and tells them how much he misses and loves them and promises of a visit sometime soon. I wonder if allowing him to do this is harming them in the long run.

Our oldest cries and asks me why her daddy doesn't come to see her. I never bad mouth him around them. I feel like they can make their own assumptions and conclusions of his level of douchebagginess all on there own, when they are older. I tell her that he loves her. I am sure that he misses her. I also tell her that sometimes being a daddy is hard for some people and they really try, but its just not what they are best at. What the fuck else am I supposed to tell her?!?!?! Is that wrong? Our youngest (my middle child) was not even 2 when he left us. She does not have the emotional impact of his absence that my oldest does. At least, I cannot tell if she does.

More history...he cannot keep a job to save his life. Not a joke. There were 2 years where I counted a total of over 40 some jobs he had. 40!!! Those were the ones I could remember. Its never his fault when he loses a job. Most popular excuse :I got laid off. Next, is my boss was a dick. and every other excuse had something to the effect of missing to much time because he was sick. Yeah. He was sick alright. He would sleep all day and not get up and go to work. He stays up all night drinking, at band practice, looking at internet porn or whatever until his hand hurts or he passes out drunk or from exhaustion as the sun rises. I just recently found out he used our kids as an excuse not to go to work. A mutual friend's fiancée got him a sweet job with excellent benefits and pay. First day of work he does not show and calls around 1pm (when he woke up)and tells these people I dropped the kids off to him this weekend and never came back to get them. Get the fuck outta here!!!! I cannot believe the amount of assholery that comes flying out of his mouth sometimes. There are so many things wrong with what he said, I don't know where to start but here goes:
1. Since our divorce in 2006, the girls have stayed a total of 4 nights with him. Only one has been since the oldest has had her feeding tube (10/09) and none since the youngest has had her feeding tube (12/10)(all less than 24hr visits each time)
2. One of these nights was when I was in the hospital having my 3rd child via c-section. I got a call at 4 am from my ex (who was drunk!)and his other baby momma, drunk, screaming in the background. He said I needed to come get the kids. I was in the hospital! I just gave birth for Christ's sake!! The kids told me the screaming woke them up and didn't want to go back over there anymore.
3. My children do NOT stay anywhere but in MY care. I would never drop them off with him, and the unsavory characters hew chooses to surround himself with for days at a time. I have made the decision a year ago that he will never visit with them unattended by me, or outside of my home.

For the record, he would not even know what to do with them. They both have feeding tubes with strict schedules, take gobs of meds and I wouldn't trust him with a sack of fucking rotten potatoes. And, he has never given either of them a bath, not even as infants, since the day they were born. Yeah, and he is gonna take them from me. What a douchebag.

So, we have another court date scheduled for next month. I do not care if he shows or if he ever pays another dime. I am kinda hoping he wont. NC law states if he has gone 12 months without supporting, he has legally abandoned them. I would seriously tell a judge right now, to forgive the 7 grand he owes if he would agree to terminate his parental rights. He offered to do it a few years ago just to get out of having to pay, but I didn't want to just let him off the hook. We do not have a custody agreement legally. There was really no question of who would care for them. When he left he said he couldn't take care of himself so he couldn't take care of a family either, and that I should find someone else to do that for me. Capital DOUCHE to the bag.

So far we are on 5mos. (6mos come May 1st) with no support. I wish I had the money to hire an attorney. Wish in one hand, shit in the other. Who the hell came up with that saying? Disgusting. Like I am gonna really take a dump in my hand to find out.

OK, that is my ranting for the evening. Goodnight!!

Why am I not in bed???

Because I have a spry little 2 year old who has decided it Thomas The Tank Engine Marathon night at my house. I am hoping she gives up soon because I am gonna need all the rest I can get for tomorrow.

Take the kids to school. This is an adventure in itself. I have to get 3 children up at 6, fed, dressed, lunched, backpacked and presentable for school and out the door by 7am. Sounds simple enough, right? WRONG! I am not getting up earlier than 6. I refuse. I will not be able to function properly the rest of the day. Jazzmin is only 8 and she is already sleeping her life away like the moody teenager she already has become. I spend at LEAST 20 minutes just telling her to get out of bed. Not to mention the 7,355,462 times I tell her to hurry up once we have gotten the beast to rise from her coma. All while I am trying to wake a 2 year old up and get her moving and fully awake so she doesn't puke mid commute to the school house. Then there is flushing of the connector tubes for the older two kids. Passing out meds to everyone. Helping Solara put her socks on and get her to quit crying because her socks don't "feel good" and trying to find her shoes. Once everyone is dressed we make sure we have lunches in the backpacks. Then we have to have a diaper bag packed with the essentials: sippy cup, diapers, wipes, change of clothes (in case of barfing episode), BOTH blankies and her favorite train, Lady. Lets hope I can find my keys and don't forget my cellphone. Out the door we go and into the minivan for our first of 2, hour and a half round trips. Lucky fiancée has charted off to work before we even get up. I am left to fend and referee alone.

Come home and probably eat something along the lines of a hostess cupcake and a glass of milk for breakfast. That what I did today, why fuck up a good thing. Then I am gonna make a mad dash to straighten up my house. I am just too pooped from the days activities to do it tonight. The med supply company is making a delivery tomorrow and there is never an estimated time of delivery. They just tell me what day they will be in the area and ask what they need to bring a week in advance. You would think that because I have had a week to prepare for someone coming to my house that I would have the place clean by now. HA! I always run out of time. But seriously, nothing gets my house clean quite like company coming over. Then I will have to rotate supplies and get things put up. Ahh who am I kidding. It will probably sit where he drops it till Thursday.

Gotta pick up the kids early because they both have an appointment with their GI Specialist, Dr. Freeman. Thank GOD she flies down once a month from Chapel Hill because monthly trips to UNC would make me lose my mind. I don't have much left to lose. This ought to be an interesting visit because Solara has to have her g-tube replaced (routinely changed every 3-4 months) for the first time and she is terrified. I didn't do it last time because 1. I forgot the damn replacement and B. we had been there for like 3 hours and I was just so ready to get home. Our appointments usually last about 3ish hours. 2 hours is just waiting time. Have I mentioned I am not very patient? All while keeping an 8, 6, & 2 year old entertained. Not easy. Keeping them quiet once the doc has come in is probably the hardest part. They have been caged in this 12x12 room for 2 hours and are on the brink of sibling homicide by the time she gets in. Its really not as fun as it sounds. Dr. Freeman usually calls for reinforcements from Nurses Deborah, Brenda, Cindy, Kim or whomever is handy to bring the children snacks to stuff in their mouths and keep them quiet.

Then somewhere between an estimated 3 hour visit that starts at 2:30 and soccer practices (45 minutes away) at 5:15 & 6 I will need to feed these by now unruly children. They aren't very patient people either. Hopefully by this time, my prince charming will have rode in on his white horse (ie his white ford mustang.... OK, ok, so its just a taurus. Sheesh!) and saved the day.

I am a supermom and I will make it happen.

Pray for my sanity tomorrow. Its going to be a loooooong day.

The Death of Heirloom Television

I don't remember too many specific things from my childhood. I do remember VHS tapes piled on top the VCR, labeled "Soaps" in my mothers not so attractive handwriting. My mother was always a fan of daytime soap operas. Everyday she watched All My Children, One Life To Live and wrapped her drama filled afternoons up with General Hospital. When she couldn't be home to watch them, she recorded them on the VCR. It was awesome because she could fast forward through all the commercials. Ahh, the luxury. There were always 2 rules that pertained to my mother's belongings, that I can remember. Rule #1. Do NOT drink the last Pepsi in the fridge. It was my mom's and you were in big trouble if you did. (my mother to this day only drinks Pepsi & coffee). Rule #2. Do NOT record over her soaps.

I never realized how much I actually paid attention to my mom's soaps until I was an adult. They every so often do fashbacks on these shows and I will instantly remember an episode or a portion of a plot line from 20 years ago, and suddenly, this weeks plot line made complete sense. Its crazy.

These shows have been on for over 40 years and have brought laughter, tears, and heartache to women on a Monday through Friday basis, for generations. My mother has watched them all her life, not knowing how much she had paid attention to them as a child while her mother watched them. She grew up and continued to watch them. These Soaps have been handed down, like a piece of heirloom furniture, through 3 generations in my family. It was sure to be passed to a fourth generation. Brie would turn her head toward the television, as an infant, whenever the opening theme song to OLTL came on. Yesterday, my right to pass on this heirloom, this time honored female family tradition, was ripped right out from under me. There were no warnings. There were no online polls. Just a matter of fact statement issued by the network, informing that MY soaps were being cancelled at the end of this year.

I don't know how many of you watch soaps. Some of you reading this probably think I am completely bonkers and need to get out of the house more often. But, unless you have watched soaps as long as I have, you will never know the heartache that I have right now. I have been watching for so long, that its like I know the characters. How will life go on for these people? With characters like Erica Kane, Vicky, Dorian, Bo & Nora, characters that have been on these shows since the beginning of time, they are just out of a job now? And another thing, why not General Hospital? Go ahead and wipe out the entire line up. Go ahead! Don't be picky.

I am never gonna get to see Cole get out of prison in 10 years and him, Star and Hope re-unite. Never gonna get to see Hope be a terrible teenager. Is Jess ever going to be truly integrated? Will Clint ever accept Rex as his son? Will Dorian and David stand the test of time? Will John find out that Liam really IS his and not Brody's? Will Jack ever make it up to Shane? There is just sooo much that needs to be resolved before January and I am not sure I will be satisfied. I don't have a clue how this is all going to end, but its happening way to fast and way to soon. I want my girls to call me every week when they are grown so we can talk about whats going on in Llandview, just like I do with my mom now. Its like a good book that you cant put down that never ends! Well, that is what it should be. Hell. Even Steven has become interested it whats going on in Llandview. He is guessing how the plot is going to twist and turn in the coming weeks and is right half the damn time!

According to ABC, "The Chew" ("will focus on food from EVERY angle -- as a source of joy, health, family ritual, friendship, breaking news, dating, fitness, weight loss, travel adventures and life's moments") and "The Revolution" ("a daily show about health and lifestyle transformations.") will be replacing my soaps. I plan to boycott ABC as a whole. Fuck them and their healthy television. I hope their ratings get stomped to the ground like the flaming bag of poo that they are. Why can't they just move the shows from network TV, to SoapNet???!!! My "sources" tell me Soapnet is being canned too. DOUBLE-YOU-TEE-EFF! I am gonna die.

So that's it. The prophecy is being fulfilled. The world is coming to an end in 2012. Well at least for the citizens of Llanview and Pine Valley, that is.

I WANT my cheesy drama. I WANT to be able to watch 15 episodes back to back on DVR. I WANT my murdering, baby switching, cheating, comatose, back from the dead but had re-constructive surgery on my face so you cant recognize me because they switched actors, sneaky, multiple personality, over acted, waste of time I could be spending cleaning my house, married the same guy 4 times, soap operas DAMMIT!!!

OVERLOAD!

Can I just say I am in wedding OVERLOAD?!?!?! I have been mercifully drawn to the computer designing a wedding I have not even set the date for. I have not put on a bra, brushed my teeth (or my hair). I let the children play in the rain and eat whatever they wanted since I rolled out of bed today. Planning dinner? Yeah, well, I told Steven to bring home a frozen lasagna.

I am a bit of an oddball when it comes to my taste in things. I have an eccentric imagination and tend to sway toward things that are far beyond my budget. Not because I necessarily like expensive, it just ends up being that.

I have been dreaming of my second wedding forever. Since before my first wedding. I always wanted to have a costume ball and a Halloween wedding. Even going so far as to requiring all of my invited guests to be in costume. Well, being that this is my second wedding and Steven's first, my dreams will remain dreams. Steven wants a traditional church wedding. Such a boring way to go, really. But, I guess I cannot expect much more from a southern Baptist-raised Momma's boy. And with that, I will allow his "church" wedding, sans zombies.

My taste in dresses has always been the same though. I LOVE Victorian/Burlesque style dresses. Corsets and bustles and lace, OH MY!I have decided the wedding will be very steampunk sexy. I love mustaches. They will have an avid part in the wedding design. Don't judge me.

I am so positive I can pull it off, except for my dress. I know it is going to be the most pricey element of the wedding. I am more worried about finding the dress. I have found a ton, but my figure does not fit in "normal" sizes. Ordering something online is out of the question. Unless I find someone who specializes in a Dolly Parton size.
I would love to find a super seamstress with tons of experience locally, to help create the buxom dress of my dreams.

Is it sad that I do not want any bridesmaids? I did this once, and I don't know, it just isn't for me. I only want my three little ladies beside me. I am not really sure who Steven wants on his side. He doesn't really have any "friends" he hangs out with. He is kind of a loner in that aspect. Except for me, but I will already be beside him, holding his hand.

I am also resisting the urge to chop all my hair off. I envision long curly tendrils, bouncing my neckline and either a fancy mini top hat of sorts or some feathery little fascinator pinning the curls up behind my right ear.

Fancy lace fingerless gloves is a must. And they have to go to my elbow. Still not sure about the cake, but it will be a spectacular creation. Bottles of poison on the tables and black flowers. Lace and clocks everywhere.

I hate it when my mind get fixated on something creative like this. I feel like I am always about to explode. Its always on my mind, which is going a bajillion miles a minute. Complete thoughts become a jumbled fragmented mess. I have a hard time expressing them verbally. I wish I could draw. I have the same problem with dreams. I can see them in my mind and remember, but to try and verbally reconstitute details is impossible. Freaky. I don't understand me sometimes.

I am thinking a mid-late September evening wedding..and I think it is gonna be epic.

Its about time!

So he finally did it! I am engaged and I could not be happier!

I knew it was coming. Hell, I knew it was coming at least a dozen times before and it never happened. If I was wrong again this time I had a hunch, I was ready to throw in the towel.

A few weeks ago I noticed a chunk of money missing out of the bank. Naturally I was pissed because I just knew he went and bought something stupid without discussing it with me. You know men. Well at least in my experience. They are more impulsive than me at the grocery check out when damn reese's are on sale BOGO. Anyhoo, I ask about the money. He says "I can't tell you right now." and smiles. Well great. Now I start getting suspicious, but trying to keep my mind from making that assumption. There have been several occasions he has built up something and been vague about things and I have totally made that assumption......and made a quiet ass out of myself for assuming this was it. I never let him know my disappointment. Every Birthday, Christmas and Valentine's. This past Valentines I knew it wasn't going to happen because we were in a financial bind. But, he said he was going to make it up to me. I waited. And I waited some more. Finally, February was over, no ring.

Last week, a package comes in the mail. It was addressed to him. I wanted to open it and really thought about doing it but couldn't figure out how to get the box open without noticeable damage. Alas, the box sat there. Brie was convinced it was Gordon. The Number 4 blue engine. She thinks trains come in the mailbox whenever she decides she wants one. And this has nothing to do with Mommy buying her trains from Ebay. Nope, sure doesn't. So not only was I struggling not to open it for myself, I was struggling not to open it to prove to a 2 year old there was NO DAMN GORDON IN THAT BOX! He came home and I handed him the box and he took off in the other room. He come back out and tells me he found my driver's licence and the 2 credit cards I lost (and had all three replaced), but nothing else. "What was in the box?" "Nothing. (shit eating grin). Naturally. "Well where did you find my cards?" "In that thing by your Jewelry box on your tall dresser." What a jerk. Its actually my lingerie bureau and its tall and narrow. So tall, that I cannot reach my jewelry box on top, which is where he just hid this fucking mystery box contents. He so did it on purpose. I mean, I could go get a chair or something and have a look see, but I really am just too lazy to drag a chair all the way to my room. Being short is a bitch when people take advantage it. So, the day goes on, no ring.

Family trip to the Cape Fear museum!!! maybe today is the day!!! Its beautiful outside. We are having some much needed family time. Its his first weekend off in FOREVER. Today is the day! The museum was pretty cool. Way cooler than I anticipated. We finish the first floor and go upstairs. The first exhibit we check out up there is the photography exhibit. It was cool. Tons of old cameras and stuff. The kids were looking at one thing, I was looking at another and Steven had wandered to another display. I strolled over to where he was to check out what he was looking at. As a sign of affection, I reached over to him to tuck my hand in his pocket. I do this all the time. He knew I was standing there. I sure as hell wasn't digging to find anything. He freaked out! Shoved my hand away so quickly and stuttered to ask me what I was doing as he protected his pocket. It scared the crap out of me! I asked was something going to bite me in there and he kept stuttering trying to play me off like he did not know I was standing there. He thought it was someone else coming to grope his thigh from inside his front pocket? Come on!!!! He swears that there is nothing there. WHATEVER. Museum is done, time to go home for lunch. He is chewing his nails all the way home, still no ring. He suggest we go out for dinner to Applebee's. Here we go. I am thinking, if he proposed to me at Applebee's, I am gonna die. I am terrified and silently, reluctantly, go to Applebee's. I am seriously trying to think of a way to make an Applebee's proposal sound romantic when I tell the story to friends, relatives and future grandchildren. Its just not happening. Dinner was super yummy. No ring.

I am done. I cannot believe I have convinced myself AGAIN that this was it and I was wrong AGAIN. My boyfriend is just a weirdo and I need to just come to terms with this. I will forever be in wait of some magical moment that I have built up in my amazing little imagination that will never happen. I will just be a "girlfriend", even when I am 60. That is just the dumbest thing ever. Here is my little white flag guys. I freaking give up.

And then yesterday happened. I woke up and laid in bed with him. We listened to the 2 younger kids up and playing in their room. We talked, what about I don't quite remember. I do remember him asking how much I loved him. "Bigger than the sky. Infinity times two, plus one" He laughed and said "now without using the kids' words" I told him that I loved him with all my heart. We kinda just laid there smiling for a few moments and he got up. I figured he was just getting up. He came over to my side of the bed and knelt down in my side of the bed and in just a pair of boxer briefs, he began. He was not stuttering, or shaking, or being weird in any sort of way. He says to me "I love you so much. You ARE my heart and my world and I wan't to spend the rest of my life with you." He pulls a small blue velvet box from around his back and opens it, revealing this beautifully perfect ring. He paused for what seemed like an eternity. Then he asked me "Will you marry me?" I was already a mess by then and I blubbered through the tears "Of course I will marry you!" We hugged and I sobbed for like ten minutes. He asked me was I gonna smile. I very lovingly smacked him in the shoulder and told him "See, I told you you were being weird!" Once I got myself together I called the girls into the room to share the news. Once they all piled on my bed, I showed them my ring and waited to see what they would say. Jazzmin said "wow, that's pretty Mommy" Brie was mad because Jazzmin wasn't talking very much to her because she just woke up. Solara said "Its not a toy? I only care if its a toy for me if you wanna show me something" HAHAHAHA she is so funny. I asked them if they knew what the ring meant and they all said no. I explained that Steven had asked me to marry him and I said yes. Jazzmin was really excited. So excited she put Brie in a party dress and had her carry a basket up and down the hall, teaching her how to throw flower petals like a flower girl in preparation for our wedding.

So that is it, we are engaged. I think I will just enjoy the engagement for now. I have waited so long for it. I don't want to dim the glow I have by stressing over my soon-to-be in-laws having a conniption because I want to have a costume ball and wear Chuck Taylors instead of a traditional wedding. The engagement has renewed me in a way. I know it has only been a day, but when you wait for what seems like an eternity for something, finally getting it is an amazing high. I am honestly and truly happy and in love <3

BARF

Lord have mercy. I have dealt with more barf in the last 3 days than I ever care to deal with again any time soon. Day before yesterday, Jazzmin woke up puking. After a night of routine intense g-tube feeds, you can only imagine the volume. She seemed fine for a bit, just complaining about cramping. I had errands to run in Wilmington and figured she would be ok. Its not uncommon for one of my kids to have an isolated barfing incident. Well, that is why I am not paid to think. She got sick in the parking lot of our first destination. We decide to just go home. Nothing is ever that simple. We don't "just do" anything. There is always a bajillion other things that chime in to make events more interesting.

Approaching the Cape Fear River bridge, I notice traffic isn't moving from about 5th street. Being the cyber media junkie that I am, I tell Steven to check the NHC911 Twitter feed. Low and behold, a disabled motorist on the bridge, delaying already heavy rainy Saturday traffic. I look for a break and scoot on over to head to the only other way to Brunswick County, the Isabella (insert 20 minute pause for barf clean up) Holmes Bridge and kiss my ass, its up waiting for the hugest fucking ship to pass through. I can see in the distance the traffic I had avoided on the CFR Bridge moving just fine.Before we can make it across the Bridge once traffic starts moving, Jazz pukes in the back seat. Then once more before we get home. Jazz continues to throw up the rest of the evening (about 6 more times)..(insert another 10 minute mini-barf clean up)

I ran gatorade through her g-tube that night at about 1/4 of her normal feeds rate, so as not to upset her tummy anymore but at least keep her somewhat hydrated. She does ok through the night and I kept her home from school Monday, just to be sure. No one wants to be that kid. You know, the one who puked all over the classroom or on that other kid on the playground. No puking all day Monday. I though we were good. There I go with the thinking again. Today she says she still feels gross, so I kept her home again. You can tell when your kid really is sick. She just didn't look good. Did I mention she has yet to run a fever? Yeah, no fever. We pick Solara up from school this afternoon and head to walgreens to pick up Solara's antibiotics (bacterial overgrowth/intestinal GI stuff) and we pull out of tha parking lot and have to immediately pull into Auto Zone. Jazz got sick AGAIN! This is nuts. We get home and by the time I get her ped to call me back, she has barfed 2 more times. We have an appointment at 8:20am tomorrow. Doc says pedialyte at half rate via g-tube for 6 hours, then if shes tolerating, 1/2 pedialyte 1/2 formula for the next 4 and Zofran every 8 hrs to help with nausea. She throws up another 3 times. The Zofran kicked in and she is sleeping comfortably.

Now for Solara. She starts whining about 9:30. Steven went to check on her, thinking maybe she had a bad dream or something, but she doesn't know why she is crying. I go in several minutes later when she starts crying again and she says her tummy feels icky. I asked her if she felt like she needed to be sick and she said kind of but I am not gonna. I gave her a bowl just in case. Well 10 minutes later, she filled up that bowl. Gave her some Zofran and she is now sleeping comfortably. I call my mom to tell her the wonderful news that I now had 2 barfing kids that I would be taking to the doc tomorrow. Now jump back up to paragraph two. That 20 minute barf episode was not Jazzmin. It was not Solara. It was Brieanna. OMFG. She puked on everything. her blankies, her star pillow, her bed sheets, herself. All those things are washing as we speak. I called my mom again to inform her that she would not be watching Brie in the morning. I am taking her on this wonderful barf encrusted circus ride to Wilmington tomorrow. The mini barf in paragraph 2 was also Brie. On the couch, but I had already guarded it with towels. Easy clean up.

Can I take a breath now? *big sigh* I have a feeling tonight is gonna be a long night. Wish me luck. The doc only gave me 4 doses of Zofran. I have 2 left and the older children will be having it for breakfast.

Let's begin at the beginning

Well, I suppose I should start with telling a bit about myself. I am a 30 year old, divorced, mother of three little girls. I spent more than half of my life in the suburbs of our nation's capital. Adjusting to a rural way of life, still, after 13 years. I have a feeling this blog will be all over the place. I am compelled to spill out my entire life's story right at this moment, but do not worry. I will spare you that overload of info in this first post. Plus, there is laundry in the corner of the wash room and I can hear it mocking me.

I call myself a Domestic Engineer. Better known as the stay-at-home mom. Domestic Engineer actually makes people think I have a fancy shmancy job where I make a shit ton of money. At least, that's what I would assume. Stay-at-home mom's, in my opinion, don't get the respect they deserve. We work 24/7/365 and then some. No holidays, no sick days. Moms are not allowed to get sick, didn't you know? I have always dreamed of being able to have this title. I have always dreamed of being a mother. A wife. I hope to again be a wife. Someday. In the future. The very near future.

I am currently living with my boyfriend of over four years. My state is one of seven that considers this a punishable crime. Yet another reason I can bring to the table of why he should get off his procrastinating ass and marry me. Anyhoo.... he is a wonderful man. Referring to him as my boyfriend just seems juvenile to me. But that is another post worthy subject. We share a child together and he has accepted my other two as his own. He is supportive and sensitive. Hardworking and smart. And he is the sexiest dork I have ever laid eyes upon.

I have three amazing little ladies. One 8, one 6 and one 2.5 going on 35. They are pretty damn awesome kids. They break my heart and break my stuff, but I couldn't love anyone anymore than I could love them. They are the reason I smile, the reason I cry, and the reason I have so much passion for life itself.

Everyday of my life is an adventure. These are the Blueprints to the future I am building.