BOOBs

People didn't believe me. They suggested tactics and books. I got funny looks and snide remarks. But I swore up and back down that my son was OBSESSED with boobs from the day he was born. I swore that if I weaned him he might jump off the ledge of his crib. So he kept nursing until I could reason with him and he was old enough to cave to major bribes. That translates to 2.75 years old. He does not try to nurse anymore. The begging and pleading and tears have stopped. I don't know if he remembers those years. But what I do know, is that he's still obsessed. He must get that from his Dad. They both think boobs have mystical powers. Multiple times a day, Avery tries to stick his hand down my shirt. He's getting pretty smart to figure out a way I'll let him cop a feel. "Mom, I just want to jump over it to touch your belly." "Mom, I just need to see if it has a boo-boo." "Mom, my hands are cold." He even tries to stick his FEET down my shirt on occasion after I reject his hand groping. Last night (since we've been sharing a bed at my parents' house), I woke up to him frantically feeling all over my back for my missing boobs.

He doesn't want to just feel them. He also wants to talk about them. "Mom, dinosaurs don't have boobs." "Grandma, are those your boobs? Does Sophie (the dog) have boobs? Belts don't have boobs." To a friend's Mom, Avery said, "Are those your boobs? I have little boobs." The list goes on and on and on.

His wife can thank me someday for his constant pestering. I hope he doesn't hit on his kindergarten teacher someday.

In case you're wondering, I do try to thwart his efforts and teach him proper etiquette. I talked to him about "private parts." Guess where that got me? He drops his drawers and grabs his junk and says, "Grandma, these are my private parts." Oh, what's a mom to do? Laugh, behind his back. That's what I do.

Totally Famous!

BTW, before I forget, I should post that before I flew to FL I was hanging in SLC at the Gateway and we walked past a women with a mike and a cameraman. They stopped me to ask political questions. Probably because I was radiating genius or something. One of the questions was about the personal attack ads. So they put the most brilliant quote from me on the news. It's amazing. "It seems a little underhanded." That's my line. I made it up myself. I watch it everyday and I've hired a personal assistant to field all my calls, mail, ect. But I still feel like I'm pretty down to earth and I've really found out who my TRUE friends are, being famous and all. Its cool.

Freak update!

I feel the need to post an update on my current state with the "suicide disease." I'm sure you're all up at night with worry. I guess its been a couple months now and its quite significantly improved. I got a blessing from Michael and he said I'd get better and I needed to be patient. Awesome. Patience. But I'm sooooo grateful I'm not going to be permanently screwed. So I went from taking major drugs including Lortab, Tylenol 3 with codeine, prescription Ibuprofen, some epilepsy medicine, sudafed, and naproxen ON A REGULAR BASIS to now taking regular ibuprofen and occasional Tylenol 3. So much much improvement. The last traumatic event I had with it was at the dentist to replace the temp crown. I went in on EVERY drug I could take and made sure to get a ride b/c I was loooo-oopy. I was hoping to avoid the novacaine shot that I theorized triggered the problem in the first place. Well I made it through, but let's just say I cried. And I'd rather have a baby. Au natural. (MAYBE a slight exag.) Anyway, since then, I'm now fully functional, just a wee bit drugged and pleased as punch to be alive. I may not like it, but I suppose its good to suffer every now and then. Reminds you to be grateful!

Sharing a Bed with Avery

While in Florida, Avery and I are sharing a bed. The other night I woke up to Avery on his knees staring at me. In his adorable toddler voice, he said "MOM! There's a dinosaur in your hair!!!!" I tried to get him to lay down and he refused. He blinked and said "Oh! It's GONE!" Then he blinked again and exclaimed, "OH! There's another one!!!" I told him there was no dinosaur in my hair, it was alright, and we should go back to sleep. He was firm in his resolve: "It's tiny. It's yellow. It's mine." I explained he was having a dream and he sounded so intrigued. "OOOOHHH! Its a dream!" I could not stop laughing despite the dastardly hour.

HOT DANG! We LOVE Halloween!

Life's a Garden! Dig it! Halloween '04! Can't wait to see what this year brings! (Insert spooky white trash Halloween laugh!)

And I get to do it again soon!

So I took both kids on a red-eye flight to Grandma and Grandpa's in Florida. OH MY GOSH! Let's just say that the ONLY way I got through THAT was with butt-loads of help (what is a butt load?). So we're going to talk about the people that made our endless night possible. Person(s) #1: We'll call these people "The Jumpstart". Jake and Mandy let me hang at their house all weekend in SLC and then at 10pm Monday, Jake gave me a ride in 'his' Porsche to the airport. He then unloaded my bags and helped me wheel EVERYTHING in. Let me define 'everything'. 2 kids in PJ's, 1 double stroller, 2 50 lb suitcases, 1 loaded purse, 1 child's backpack, 1 enormous diaper bag, 2 carseats, and a dvd player. Obviously we will be labeling "the Jumpstart" folk: Good. On to "The Checker". So this lady sees me struggle bringing everything up to the desk and she cooly refers me to the auto-check machine. So I load the kids up and go there. It, of course, does not have my ticket listed since we changed the dates. She grudgingly walks over to help. I have to then load everything back to her counter. She finds my ticket (could have done that in the first place) and makes me lift the bags for weigh in. She watches impatiently while I switch the luggage lbs and chase very excited running children. Gives me my ticket with NO directions to speak of and sends me off. She's getting a Bad label. I had no idea where to go, but being a smart girl, I figure it out. Then we meet "Gate Checker." Not only does she pull me aside to help out, she offers to find us a row to ourselves even though Quincy was a lap infant with no assigned seat. Definitely Good. Then there's "Angel Attendant." As I struggle before the plane door to collapse the double stroller and placate my children, a gem of a lady comes to hold Quincy and help me carry my truckload. She brought me my carseat when Quincy fell asleep. She ignored the seatbelt rules when Avery was sleeping on my lap. She did not make me set on the outside despite regulation. She tried to get me a cart after the flight AND she carried half my stuff through the airport as far as she could. Very Very Good. As I left the plane with the AA, she asked if we could page a golf-carty thing for me. The "Dumb Gate Attendant" said not at this time in the morning. But not two minutes later I see a couple from my flight cruising by on one. She's Bad. As I struggled through the HUGE Atlanta airport, I of course got lost and an older black man, "Janitor Dave", helped my find my way AND helped me carry my stuff. Then as I sat waiting at my gate for the hour and a half before the next flight with my two sleeping children on my chest, he revisited me with blankets and said he likes to do one good deed a day. He's very Good too. I sat there paralyzed by my children, desperate to adjust when a sweet older "Lonely Lady" came by to chat. She had been stuck at the airport for 12 hours and had 12 to go! Poor thing missed her flight because she thought she had to recheck her bags during the layover. But she helped me put Quincy in her car seat so I could move and we chatted away some of her long wait. She's a "Good" lil' lady. But soon enough I had to pee. As I looked at Avery sleeping on the chair and Quincy in her seat next to the stroller, as well as the other car seat, stroller, and bags, I had no idea how to pull this off. So I went to the gate desk and met "Pompous B". I don't need to interpret. She didn't look up until it was obvious I wasn't going away. Then she said she couldn't help me for 5 minutes. Definitely Bad. So I waited and went back. Here's where we meet our first Undecided. I go back to the desk and "Big Black Bear" asks what I need. I ask him if I can leave my things (and kids) in someone's care to use the restroom. He says it's not allowed. I ask what I'm to do. He repeats that its not allowed. I repeat my side. He snaps, "Well don't tell ME anything." Later as I'm boarding he looks at my load and knowing I'd have to carry it down stairs and outside to the puddle jumper, he halfheartedly suggests getting me an elevator or something. See? Undecided. Back to bathroom situation, I ask "Nice Old Couple" if they can keep an eye on the kids, and they agree. No big. They're Good. Then another Dave, "White Dave" helps me carry my stuff onto the plane, down some stairs, outside, and in the rain. He also helped me after the flight all the way to baggage claim. Another Good Dave. The hopper plane was so small that the seating was 2 by 2. Quincy was sleeping in her carseat, so I put her opposite of me. Avery was in my arms in and out of sleep. "Conflicted Attendant" comes along. "Face her carseat the other direction." "Is that seat approved?" "She can't sit by herself. You'll have to leave your son there buckled and sit by the baby." There would be no take off until I complied so I left a sobbing Avery buckled in a row all by himself while I sat next to an oblivious Quincy. In a moment of reconsideration, she asked the pilot for an exception and allowed Avery to sit on my lap next to Quincy. She later said, "if I could" put Avery in his seat for landing that would be good. I didn't. We have met our second "Undecided." Then comes the last life savers of the day. We'll call them "Mom and Dad." Dad picks me up and lets me promptly go to sleep while he skips work and watches the kids. He didn't bother me until I woke up. Then Mom came home and let me sleep some more! I couldn't have asked for anything better! Hallelujah for all those "Goods!" I think I dealt with more Goods than Bad or Un's. So that's a little boost for humanity. Like the Titanic (except not), my day became a test of characters and the Goods pulled through! Although the trip was LONG and ROUGH, it was doable only because of the little helpers. A fabulous reminder for me to be a "Good". But the moral is to avoid suicidal situatioins in the future. Or double the birth control efforts.

In the Spirit of Halloween

Things I was scared of as a child:

1. The song "woa-oa here she comes. Watch out boys she'll chew you up... She's a man-eater."

2. The song "I just died in your arms tonite."

3. Burglars downstairs as I ran across the hall to the parent's room after jumping off my bed to avoid the snakes under it.

4. A witch that would certainly pop out of the toilet if I didn't wash hands and get out before the toilet noises stopped.

5. The movie "Watcher in the Woods".

6. Needles.

7. Snakes... or a stick that looked like a snake following me home on my bike.

8. Never marrying.

9. The thought of dying and going into nothingness.

10. The thought of dying and then living FOREVER. And EVER. And EVER.

11. Graduating to Young Women's from Primary in church.

12. "Unsolved Mysteries"... and walking outside at night and hearing its theme in my head.

Things I'm afraid of now:

1. Heights without restraints.

2. Death of my parents, husband, or children.

3. The end of the world (and the crap leading up to it).

4. Being fat and getting fatter.

5. Snakes.

6. My kids living lifestyles that I don't approve of.

7. Ghosts, spirits, demons, whatever you want to call them.

Really?

I'm visiting Grandma and Grandpa in Florida with the kids and having a good time relaxing and bonding. Definitely enjoying the weather, esp. the warm rain, while winter (including snow) has bombed my husband in Logan. But, my kids have been CRAZY! Within the first few days, they broke a potted plant, spilled red juice on a fancy rug, and broke the bathroom soap dish. Each kid got poop on the floor. Quincy peed once on Grandma and once on the floor. They dumped chips all over the floor. Avery LOADED the washer with dry detergent (a whole massive box). They have scared the dog into living under the bed. Poor Quincy fell off the bed twice and she had a ladder fall on her head. They also found the permanent markers and Quincy did some body art. Avery put toy golf clubs in the fridge and later dumped coke down my shirt! Plus they are whiny with some awful cough/cold thing! Sheesh! However, Quincy has gotten super cute with all her talking and she's giving the sweetest kisses. And Avery telling Grandma and Grandpa he loves them and telling Daddy he misses him. They're either SUPER naughty or MEGA sweet these days. Polar.

The Sweet Life!

To blog or not to blog. Always a question for me. Remember just last year when blogging was a new and trendy thing. Definitely not a mom in sweats thing. It even seemed a bit risque. And now I have joined the world of blogging like most others of my generation to chronicle my life and maybe catch a small audience of friends on the way. I'm still learning to navigate this world. I just figured out how to change the font color! But, in my opinion, blogging absolutely knocks the socks of old-school scrapbooking! I refused to join that club.
And while we're remembering life before fire, let's look back to the pre-Tivo days. Once you go Tivo, or DVR, or whatever your pleasure, you'll NEVER go back. For a trivial monthly fee, you are FREE! FREEDOM from the chains of cable. You can watch as you please and only what you please. Forget the commercials or the scenes you need to censor. No more a slave to choosing between your child's cry or the season finale show ending. You can record, pause, rewind, fast-forward ANYTHING, not just what you've decided to record. And its all without the clutter of video tapes. But it does cause a bit of remorse when you catch something too late on the radio or in class and realize you can't rewind.
And then there's the cell phone thing. Tweens even are endowed with them! I'll admit that while it does give a feeling of safety and convenience in certain pickles, mostly I like the lack of boredom while driving or shopping. Someday, I'll probably be appalled that I used to drive and chat just like we shrink at the thought of our mother's driving sans carseats!
I am afraid that I will be coming upon a new bit of technology that I may become addicted to. It almost makes me want to put off getting one, because in some ways, ignorance is bliss. I'm referring to the Apple I-Phone, of course. We certainly will get one soon, due to my Sugarbritches insatiable desire, but until then we will be content not realizing what we don't have. It includes an mp3 player (another invention I quite enjoy), a phone of course, full internet access, and some crazy applications (games, lights, GPS, music identifier thingies, etc...............). The world is competing to make to-die-for apps and I'm certain some of them will join my world on a daily basis. Competition breeds genius!
Makes me hope this end of the world thing doesn't come anytime soon, because there prob will be no blogging or cell phones or Tivo or I-phones. Maybe not even land lines and cable and email and microwaves and grocery stores and cars and planes and disposable diapers and (gasp)straighteners! It SHOULD (but doesn't) occur to me daily just how spoiled I am!