Noah's Hand

I don't know if ya'll know it, but our home is constructed of 12-inch-thick adobe (mud and straw) home that has been covered in stucco and lived in for 100 years. We have beautiful wood floors, huge closets and bathroom, and large wonderful windows with deep sills to sit and admire the view. Well, it's also cold! REALLY cold, and the sun has been shining and it's been warm outside for two days and I STILL have to wear a sweatshirt inside. So today, I decide to open all the huge windows to let the warm air in. The windows, being 100 years old, are large and heavey and are pushed up and held open by weights built into the INSIDE of the window frame. Some of the rope holding these weights has frayed and broken over the years so we use a 1 x 2 to hold the windows up. Noah was looking outside at the birds flying around and grabbed the piece of wood holding up the 30 pound window and it came crashing down on his pudgy little 2-year-old hand.

The local clinic's "system" is down so they couldn't read any x-rays, and they only had stiches (no glue) so I had to drive 45 minutes to the ER in Willcox. After being ignored and trying to keep Noah occupied for 55 minutes, I told the "lady" sitting behind the counter that I was sent to have my son's thumb stitched and have x-rays taken - could I possible have his thumb stitched while I waited to get in to radiology?

15 minutes later, they bring us it, look at his hand and ask me if this is the only reason I brought him in. They look at me like I'm an over-protective mom when I tell them what happened. They laugh when the walk around the sound-proof barrier of the flimsy fabric curtain that seperates me from the man with the UTI and say "This is pathetic! Throw some glue on there and let's get to work!".

"Look", I said oh so nicely, "It's not like some little window with thin glass hit his little thumb and knuckles! A 3 FOOT by 4 FOOT window filled with antique glass and bordered by 2 x 4 chunks of wood FELL on my son's hand. I think it needs to be looked at". Somehow, the sound-proof barrier must have prevented them from hearing my rant because I got 2 drops of super-glue and a discharge paper. No x-rays, no stitches. All for the co-pay price of $100 + gas. The glue popped off while at Pizza Hut and Noah got spaghetti sauce in his gaping wound and I had to go back with a tired, hungry, now screaming child to try to get this little wound taken care of. I am told to wait in the waiting room and go through the ER system again. They put a piece of tape on his thumb. Still no x-rays. It's been a long day. 11 am to 4:30 pm. I'm going to have to sit in about 9,657,823,194 hours of sunshine to get out of this rut and I just want to go to bed.

The good news - there's always good news - Noah's hand is not broken, only possibly fractured, which might lead to an infection which could lead to him going on antibiotics and maybe a resetting of the fracture. And, naturally, another trip to the hospital. In another city of course.

A Silly Little Thing...

Sometimes the silliest things can just make me giggle. Or outright laugh. Or chuckle a little and then giggle about them every time I think of whatever it is whenever I think of it. So today, I had to make a stop accross the street to talk to our neighbor, Patty. I got Noah out of his seat and as we walked up to the front of her home, Noah said, "Yook, Momma! A wagon!"
"Yep, it sure is." I replied
"Is it Patty's wagon?" he asked
"Yes sweetheart."
"Oh"
Then a thoughtful look on his face and
"It a Patty-Wagon?"
Ha, ha!! I started laughing so hard that I had to stop walking and say to myself, "A wagon. Patty's wagon. A patty-wagon. Oh, this kid is witty, and he's only 2!!!!"
Hee, hee. Yep, I'm still giggling. I told Patty and she laughed. I'm sure she'll giggle next time she thinks about it too. A patty-wagon. Sheesh, that's funny! C'mon! Laugh! You know you want too...

More CRAZINESS From The AZ Lambsons...

Well hello again folks and thanks for visiting us here toay, as we deceptively spin yarns a-plenty and tell the truth sometimes.

Today, just for fun, we will be telling mostly the truth. Like the fact that we got another dog. Really. Here she is - her name is Shatzie. It's a German term for "endearment". Cute, huh? And she loves the kids and the kids love her, and everybody gets along. Except for the birds. The dog wants to eat them and they are having a hard time adjusting to that. But, all in all, everybody is getting along just fine.

She is a Jack Russell Terrier mix and has lots of energy. She was also at the pound, so she has lots of issues too. Like she must.be.by.my.side.at.all.times. I lovingly refer to her as my "velcro dog" or my "clingon" (but not in public). So when I take her out to go potty, I have to wait on the front porch and she will "do her business" as long as I'm within her field of vision. Sweet, isn't it.....

So this evening I take the two dogs out and they do their thing and I can totally tell that it's going to snow. The wind, the dark clouds hanging down, the smell in the air. I can't wait for it to snow. Fast foward past dinner, bath, pj's, stories, prayers, songs, bed, and you will see me out on the porch yet again. But this time, there is snow falling and on the ground. AGAIN! SNOW IN SOUTHERN ARIZONA. And this is the truth too! Honest! (picuctures to follow). It's deep enough for me to go out and run in and leave tracks behind me! Thinking back to both times it's snowed where I live, I think (just so ya know, you're entering dangerous waters here) "Gee, I bet I could make a snow angel with snow this deep!". Yep, it was about 1/4 of an inch thick, so I plop down, flap my arms and legs coupla times and voila! There is a masterpiece! The dogs are done so we run inside and I take off my hat and jacket. There, sticking to the back of my jacket is the "business" that Shatzie had done earlier. What a crappy way to end the day.....

Yet ANOTHER Thing I Can't Yell At My Husband About...

I turned on the little space heater in the bathroom at 11 a.m. this morning in order to heat the room sufficiently to take a shower and shave my legs without scraping all the goosebumps off along with the hair by this evening. I entered the *grin* WARM room and turned on the water so it, too, would be *big grin* WARM so I would eventually get *full, ear-to-ear, Cheshire Cat smile goin' on here* WARM. But when I turned the handle on the faucet, I realized that someone forgot to turn off the shower head from the last visit to WARM fairy land and I was covered in a spray of icy cold darts of coldness and it was COLD darn it! Really cold. And I was mad and I almost cursed! But who is there to hear my rantings and ravings? AND, by golly, who is to blame? Only me. Poor, pathetic, cold, lonely me. Hurry Home Gila Man!!

It Actually Happened!!

It really, really happened! We are home owners!! I'm not a renter! I can check the "own" box whenever I fill out a questionare...if I ever have the time to do such mundane things ever again. Because I'm a home-owner now and am waaaaay to busy to do petty things such as fill out questionares and silly stuff like that. Oh, why am I soooo excited? Let me illuminate:

Reason #1: It will be a warm house. It will have heat. In every room. All winter long. I will not have to buy propane and switch out bottles when the wind is blowing sleet down my jacket right before I'm suppossed to have dinner on the table but I can't cook because, the propane tank? It's empty. Oh, and no more pellets to haul.

Reason #2: I will have a double sink in the kitchen. Something I don't have now. Just a single, shallow sink.

Reason #3: I think the place might be warm....

Reason #4: I will have a garbage disposal. I will not have to fish out slimy pasta, mushy vegetables, or yucky chunks of meat out of the drain. The sink will eat such nasties.

Reason #5: I will have a dishwasher. One that washes the dishes and sanitizes them and makes them all clean. Even if the dog licks it...it will be clean.

Reason#6: It's really really cute!!

Reason #7: I will walk to the wall, push the "up" arrow button, and there will be a miraculous phenomenon which will occur somewhere inside the wall (I like to refer to it as "Fairy Land" ) and WARM air will come out of vents placed in various points in the home. Like the bedroom. Even, though hard to believe, in the bathroom *gasp*. It's true! I've seen it happen. I will make it happen. And I will be happy.

It's really, really gonna happen tomorrow...

Well, after countless rewrites, fixes, and 2-hour drives to what is going to be our new home, it's actually going to happen. Tomorrow morning between 10 and 11 am, I am going to hold the keys to our new home in my hand. And I will drive there, and I will ring the doorbell for the first time and unlock the door for the first time and go inside for the first time and know with complete, um, knowledge that I will be the very first person to sit and tinkle on that toilet. Yes, I think I could even brave the unthinkable: talking on my cell phone while sitting on the potty. OH, YES! That's what I said. Not scared. Not yucky. It's going to be a great day tomorrow, I can just feel it. New day, new house...oh yeah.

It's really, really gonna happen tomorrow...

Well, after countless rewrites, fixes, and 2-hour drives to what is going to be our new home, it's actually going to happen. Tomorrow morning between 10 and 11 am, I am going to hold the keys to our new home in my hand. And I will drive there, and I will ring the doorbell for the first time and unlock the door for the first time and go inside for the first time and know with complete, um, knowledge that I will be the very first person to sit and tinkle on that toilet. Yes, I think I could even brave the unthinkable: talking on my cell phone while sitting on the potty. OH, YES! That's what I said. Not scared. Not yucky. It's going to be a great day tomorrow, I can just feel it. New day, new house...oh yeah.

A Few Things That I Can't Yell At My Husband For... Volume 1

Alright...so I can yell, but it won't do any good. I just scare the animals. And this face of his? It keeps the bears away from our camp site. Oh, and I know that it's been eons since I have blogged, and trust me, I'm working on repenting, but I have been busy here. REALLY busy. The single parent lifestyle stinks. Big time. And literaly too. Let me explain....

*Woke up early this morning - big day today!! I'm on the ball! We get to do the walk-thru and home inspection on what is going to be our NEW HOME!!! Yipeee! I walked in the kitchen and, "What the freak?" something stunk. The combination of stinky diapers, old brown banana peels and yucky leftovers was oozing out from under the lid of the seemingly innocent white trash can lid. (switch to internal dialogue) Oh...I guess that's my job now too...(at least Helaman could have set up 4 or 5 trash cans so I wouldn't have to take the trash out every week...man...what a bum...can't really expect Noah to do it...at least not for another week or two. Sheesh, it smells. Does it always smell like this? Where do I put the bag of trash? Where are the new trash bags? Oh, I forgot I put the pizza boxes behind there...Ewwwwwwwwwwww! Is that what week-old pizza looks like?!? Wow....cool color....hmmmm... (end internal dialogue...it could get very scary very quickly). In the end, I had nobody to blame for leaving all that crap all over and around the trash can area. I did the adult thing - don't get me wrong, I can totally step up to the plate and run this household and keep it clean and all that jazz. Sheesh, people, give me some credit! I'm an adult...I did what most adults in my situation would do: I took the trash can, pizza boxes, plastic bags, and other misc. mumbo out on the back porch, so I wouldn't have to smell it. What? Don't worry! I closed both screen doors so no critters could get to it. I told ya...I'm on the ball!

*After coming home from a completely exhausting day of driving forever to our new home with a 3 year old (Mikey not Noah), going over the home inspection, doing the walk though, sitting in an office to see if we can sign, finding out we cannot (oh, yes...I was angry), going from business to business to get various utilities set up and paying out the Wazoo for it, cursing myself for wearing very cute but very uncomfortable shoes while walking in Home Depot to look for paint...blah blah blah.....cut to getting home after 8 p.m. and getting Mr. "I'm Not Tired, I'm Awake! See My Eyes Momma?" to bed. Finally kicking of aforementioned cur-sed shoes and sitting down to tinkle on the potty. Just sitting was nice. And then I saw it. The empty roll. You know, the one with 2 little transparent sheets simply setting there on that cardboard "OH!!!!" I yelled, "THIS IS IT! HOW CAN THIS DAY GET WORSE?!?!???". And then I realized...there's nobody here to blame. Noboby here to care. Nobody except the two year old who heard my voice and loudly proclaimed, "I AWAKE, MOMMA! SEE MY EYES?". Normally, I murmer about the man who is always leaving the roll with one sheet on it. Yet, how can one murmer about someone who has not occupied this space for 5 freakin' weeks? Sheesh, you'd think I'd be used to it now. But getting used to having nobody to blame for stuff that doesn't get done around here? That's a hard thing to do.

Holiday Eating Tips

Holiday Eating Tips

Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrots on a
Holiday buffet table knows nothing of the Christmas spirit.
In fact, if you see carrots, leave immediately. Go next
door, where they're serving rum balls.

Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. Like a
fine single-malt scotch, it's rare. In fact, it's even
rarer than single-malt scotch. You can't find it any othert
ime of year but now. So drink up! Who cares that it has
10,000 calories in every sip? It's not as if you're going
to turn into an eggnog-alcoholic or something. It's a treat.
enjoy it. Have one for me. Have two. It's later than you
think. It's Christmas!

If something comes with gravy, use it. That's the
whole point of gravy. Gravy does not stand alone.

make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with
gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat.

As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made
with skim milk or whole milk. If it's skim, pass. Why
bother? It's like buying a sports car with an automatic
transmission.

Do not have a snack before going to a party in an
effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a
Christmas party is to eat other people's food for free. Lots
of it. Hello?

Under no circumstances should you exercise between
now and New Year's. You can do that in January when you have
nothing else to do. This is the time for long naps, which
you'll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a
10-pound plate of food and that vat of eggnog.

If you come across something really good at a
buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape
and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don't
budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of
attention. They're like a beautiful pair of shoes. If you
leave them behind, you're never going to see them again.

Same for pies. Apple. Pumpkin. Mincemeat. Have a
slice of each. Or if you don't like mincemeat, have two
apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you
get to have more than one dessert? Labor Day?

Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it's loaded
with the mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all
costs. I mean, have some standards.

One final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you
leave the party or get up from the table, you haven't been
paying attention. Re-read tips; start over, but hurry,
January is just around the corner.

Remember this motto to live by:

"Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the
Intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well
Preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in
One hand, martini in the other, body thoroughly used up,
Totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"

I don't know where this came from, but I thought it was tooooo funny not to share!!

Cool Things About December In Arizona...

Well, howdy ya'll!!! I know it seemed as though I'd never get back on here and let 'cha know that I was still kickin' out here in Southern AZ, but here I am, bein' sassy and tryin' to keep the household runnin' as a Single Mom. Let me tell ya...it ain't no fun. I think if every room had heat, I would be to deal with all that goes on with running a household, but as it is, I have heat in 2 rooms, so it's hard to function in those other 6 rooms. Yes, it's cold here. How cold, you ask? Well, it freezes here at night, and the highs are somewhere in the 60's. Sure, you're thinking that it's much colder than that wherever you are, but do you have 12 inch thick adobe walls? The kind of walls that the cold penetrates and you have to fight to keep the cold out once it permeates those walls? Ha! I didn't think so. But really, this isn't a super whining fest for me. Although it's fun 'cuz I can whine and I don't see your reaction and you can't give me any smart-alecky retorts.

Soooo, being a Single Momma isn't fun. I always had respect for single Moms, (or I would shake my head sadly at them when they told me of their single parenting woes but secretely said, "HA! Shoulda tried a little harder to prevent this situation", which is narrow minded and cruel now that I look back on it), but now I think they are amazing. Most of them have to work, I don't. And I still have a hard time keeping the dishes washed.

While you may think that this is pointless and going nowhere (and you're probably right) I do have a point. And it is: As a new Single Mom (SM - like Super Mom), I have found myself asking for help when I never thought I would. And asking for help much sooner than I thought. Like this weekend. And Hele's only been gone 2 weeks. Sheesh, I miss that guy. He called and said "Do you miss me?", "Of course!" I replied. "I have to take out the trash! It stinks!". Ha, ha. I was just being funny.

So my parents decided to take Mr. B shopping with them this weekend. I thought that was a really neat idea and decided to go shopping as well. I observed many interesting things while visiting the big city. I felt like the country mouse visiting the hugest city in the world, it was amazing.

First Observation: No matter who you are, how much you weigh, or what the weather is outside, you can wear whatever you want inside the mall. There was this really skinny guy wearing the most skin tight jeans and henley I've ever seen. He looked like a very tall, white walking stick.
Then (of course) there was a very, VERY large hispanic woman wearing a black skirt that came halfway up her thighs - when she was standing up. And she only stood up once the whole time she was in the food court, and that was to order her food.

Second Observation: You can sell anything in the mall this time of year. That is, you can sell anything in the mall in ARIZONA this time of year. Like the booth that sold Snow Makers. Yep. No, really!! They had the small one that would make enough snow for 2 snowballs for $19.95 on up to the big one that could make enough snow to make a snowman for $59.99. And they were giving demos, and they had a bigger line than Santa Claus. It was hilarious.

Third Observation: Well, um...this kind of falls into the second observation, but I like this store so it earned it's owned observation. I went into a flip flop store that was called "The Flip Flop Store"!!! It was sooo cool! They had every kind of brand of flip flop! I must have spent 45 minutes in there looking at the beautiful array of my ultimate favorite foot covering. The manager finally came over and gave me a 20% off coupon to get me to make up my mind. The lady behind me in line said, "Only in AZ will you find a store completely devoted to selling flip-flops". I replied, "What's really funny is that it's open on December 9th and business is booming!!".

That was part of my trip to the big city on Saturday. It was fun to shop without my son and escape for awhile, but it was nice to wake up to a little warm body snuggling up to me this morning to tell me that he got to see "Nanta Clausth" in W@lm@rt yesterday. So, I'm back in the action with my blog, and I think I went through "Blogger Withdrawl" because, HOLY HECK! I just can't stop typing! I promise I will be more diligent in writing so ya'll can check out what's going (or not going) on with us out here.

Wow, I'm Feelin OLD!

But I'm not, right? Old that is. But I have a friend who is the Costco Vanna. You know....Sam's Club, Price Club, whatever it is you call a HUGE warehouse full of oversized packages of stuff that fits nicely in your bathroom if you only plan to squeeze in , do your bidness and squeeze out kind of place. Oh, they hand out yummy free samples too. Ummm....my point being...Oh yeah! My friend buys everything at Costco and if we don't , she points out all the reasons we should have bought our whatever it was there and we can take it back like 3 years later as long as you have the receipt and you can get twelve of them and you won't have to ever worry about buying one ever again and neither will your children. Will schmill. My kids are gettin toilet paper when I die. And again...my point being...

Yes, of course....*thinking quickly back to what the heck am I doing here anyways? How did I get here....oh yeah....* I was online looking for the 2nd generation BLUE iPod because I am obsessed with it and I must have it (or the red one, it's wicked pretty too). Silver just doesn't do it for me, it must be blue (or asforementioned red) or the music doesn't sound as good and it's too heavy and not as bright and doesn't have the long battery life and it just looks cool, alright Gila Man! I mean Gosh! It's the same price already.

Gee...I was just, ya know...killin' a little time ('cuz I have so much of it) and just cruisin' the Costco website, checkin things (like the iPods) out and seein' if there's any shift in the color situation (no shift, if you're wonderin') and I remember that Noah really liked these flash card type things that Costco Vanna had at her house that he LOVED. They were cute and helped children develop their language skills and Noah just liked the pictures so I thought it would make a cute Christmas gift. So I click on "search" and enter "flash cards" thinking that the flash cards would be addition, subtraction, mulitplication, colors and things of that nature. And up pops a page on digital memory flash cards. For holding pictures and info. Not flash cards. No addition. Nothing like what I was expecting. I feel like a big dork and I just thought I'd share that with you so that if you were having a bad day and feeling like a dork as well, to bad!!! I win. I must sleep now...obviously.....

On Having Kids.....

I read a quote today that said, "The sweetest time I think of you is at the end, when the day is through" - Emily Dickenson. Now, from what I've read, Ms. Dickenson never had any children. Therefore I have come to the conclusion that she MUST have had some neices or nephews or some annoying neighbor kids running around the place messin' with her poems, shufflin' papers, and just giving her a hard time. Because how could someone without kids think up something that explains EXACTLY what us parents are sometimes thinkin' at the end of the day?

*Sigh*As you can see, I've had a rough day. When we went to town last Thursday, both of the boys came home with runny noses. So today (Monday - which is always the worstest day of the week anyways), I had to deal with two little boys who had low-grade fevers, mild coughs, and NASTY ever running noses. I probably washed my hands 600 times today. Fun, huh?

So tonight when I checked on my son (who had a super long bath and lots of decongestant) and saw that he was sleeping soundly and peacefully, I thought to myself, "Awwwwww, isn't he just sweet?". And all the junk from the day slipped from my mind and I remember wicked cute way he said "I love you more" to my "I love you" (thanks, Candace). I think of the way he repeated me when I said "Michael Ryan, eat your cereal" and he just said it in the same tone of voice and everything. It was cute. I also loved how he shared his little piece of homemade jerky with me and said, "Here Momma, this for you. Chew up pease! Mouf tlosed pease!". Oh, it makes my heart melt that I have this little guy in my life. He makes it all complete. I guess that good 'ol Emily Dickenson did know what she was talking about after all.

Dressing Up My Two-Year-Old (Watch out people...this thing is about a lame subject and has dorky random comments galore)

Well, I'm trying to get back in the swing of the bloggin' scene. I have been out of the building for awhile, and nobody has noticed, so now I feel confident that I can write whatever I want about anybody I want. Nice.....

This is probably an one of the most boring blogs I have ever written and I don't know why I suddenly decided to type it out....Ooooohhhhh, I know! It's because it's been rollin' around in my noggin for a coupla days and I'm ready to throw it all out on the table and wash my hands of it. I will now stop obsessing about a completely ridiculous topic and get on with something really important....um....I'll think of something important later.

I came accross an interesting question the other day during a yahoo answers session. "Do you dress up your kid and how and why"? Why did I find it interesting? It wasn't the question so much as the aswers provided by weenie-whiners and non-parents. This is a pic of Noah when he was about 14 months old...and this was all I could find for him to wear to church. He looks fine, has the nice khaki color going on, but how many people even get their kid this dressed up for any occation?

Argument #1: "Oh, my kid will get dirty and RUIN these clothes!"

Answer: Um, HELLLLOOOO?!?!?!?!? Have we not put a man on the moon? Has one single woman not given birth to 8 live babies? Can we not converse with another complete and total stranger on the other side of the world already?!? Um, it's not rocket science, it's called "Spray 'N Wash". Buy it. Spray it. Wash clothes. Dry clothes. Clean clothes. The End...Next Excuse Please.

Argument #2: "I don't want to make my children wear clothes like that. I want them to feel free to express themselves by choosing what they want to wear and how they wear it. My child doesn't have to fit in the same box as your (in a condesending tone) child."

Answer: Oh.My.Holy.Tar. Then put your kid in a DIFFERENT colored tie with a DIFFERENT colored shirt. I'm not sayin' that all children should look like little missionaries in white shirts and blue ties with dark blue slacks and black shoes! You buy it and let them choose from what they have in their closet. And that whole "let them express themselves with their clothes" statement is gonna get you in trouble...I envision bright pink hair with a clashing puce see through itty-bitty tank-top (w/no bra) topping a pair of very low-riding daisy dukes with yellow socks and polka-dotted tennis. Or can I just use one word...can we say "Goth"? Good luck with that.

Argument #3: The only time we get dressed up is for the holidays. It's all I can afford and what other day is as important?

Answer: Well, if you are shopping at Dillards or Ambercrombie, I can totally understand the whole price issue. But buy clothes when they're cheap and on clearance and don't worry about buying a size too big - because one thing that has been proven to happen to every child - they GROW. Weird, huh?

And so ends another happy, peppy, post from yours truly. Um, I think that's me. I am finally back in the swing of things and have figured out how to get blogging again....I wait for my Gila-Monster to fall asleep!!!

Whoooooooo-Hooooooooo! Happy Day!!!

Oh my gooooodness. My husband has FINALLY started talking to me again - I found our digital camera!! Yippeeeee! This is just the greatest news in our family right now. Silly though you might think it, it has been a source of major upheavel since we returned from our little family vacation. What? You wanna know were I found it? ARE YOU KIDDING? Whenever anyone has been searching extensively for something of importance, it is most usually found in some embarrassing place that you have either already searched or thought it unimportant enough to look through. Fortunately enough for me, Gila Man is the one who happened to search this place first, so when I found it, he wasn't all, "Well, I TOLD you to look there!!". Fine, fine....

While looking through the diaper bag to get a tissue for Mr. B's allergy induced runny nose, I reached into the inner-most pocket of the bag and underneath a pile of crumpled, empty kleenex packages was a strap. When I grabbed it and pulled it out of the bag, I nearly cried!!! There was the "Precious" that Gila Man was obsessing about! I was at the indoor playground at the mall, so everyone was staring at me cuz I FA-REAKED out. I got a huge hug and the dishes were done for me after dinner when I showed the camera to my hubby and him about how I searched and took the house apart and spent so much time trying to locate it because he was so upset about losing it. I'm the worst wife. Ever. Oh, well. He's happy and we have our camera. We'll post pics of Mr. B in his glasses as soon as I take a couple. That's all for tonight.

Soothing My Soul.....

Well, I've been having some trouble lately trying to...um...locate our digital camera, and since Gila Man continues to remind me of how much the dang thing cost, I'm starting to get a little nervous. Why am I sharing this? Because if you start seeing pictures on my blogs that you've sworn to have seen before, you'll understand why - I'm trying to fill up space and make my page seem fun.

The past couple of days have been rough for me as I've been feeling down and have been sooooo busy and stressed out. I tried to drink more Dr. Pepper (which always seemed to do the trick before), but to no avail. Then I tried excersing, no good. So I tried singing more, getting more music (for my mp3 player), praying more, goofing off with the kids more, gardening, and scrapbooking, but I was stuck in a funk. I even went shopping. And it was fun, of course. I spend $41.52 and saved $72.51. Saving money always jolts me out of a rut! But not this time.
I just felt blue. Like a pale, hovering hue that is neither touching the sky nor the ground and seems to be clinging like a soft spider web. Just a sad, blue hue feeling that couldn't be chased away.

My Mom called this morning and said she picked an amazing amount of peaches off her tree in the back yard and was freezing them. She asked if I wanted any and I said I would be there this afternoon to learn how to freeze peaches so they wouldn't get all brown and icky and gross when they thawed. So we sat and peeled peaches. Then we sliced them, added some magic powder, stirred them, let them sit, stirred again, marked the bags, bagged them, and had tons of fresh, organic peaches to last the whole winter through (that's a lot of peach cobbler).

So when you have to sit and peel peaches, you talk. It's really nice. So I talked and my mom listened.
Then she talked and I listened.
Then I talked.
Then she talked.

It was nice. We shared a lot. I learned how I could best deal with a sticky situation that I had been losing sleep over. She helped me let go of the things that were clinging to me. Like the pale blue hue. Where did it go? I don't know. But as I left her home, I turned the radio up and listened to my music and I felt the hue lag further and further behind. I think my mom kept it. I hope I helped her too.

I am one dang lucky woman. My mom is here, and close, and I like her and she likes me. She even likes my husband. Well, everyone likes my husband, but it's nice that my mom can call him his pet name and he doesn't even blink about it. My dad is here to. What I would do without them makes my stomach clench and my heart hurt. But they are here now and I love them and they love me and they help me even though I'm 28 and think I don't need help or I can handle it my own way...there they are...soothing my soul.

Here's A Little Murmmering..... (by the way...this paticuar blog is wicked long)

Ahh, one of the last pictures of summer. Now that the rains have hit (And we are soooooo grateful for, of course! Even if they should prevent us from enjoying the sweet, cool, waters that still beckon to us, frigid though they are), it's too cold to get the kids in the water.

So, here I go again. With the complaining, and the trash talking, and the mummuring. I just looked over what I've written and it looks freaking long. It shouldn't be that bad to read - it might even be a little bit funny. Try it...

I love a lot of things in life, and since I've been working on what it is to "be" me, things have been going a WHOLE lot better. But once in awhile, there just seems to be something that happens - not always directly, mind you - but something that just happens and I'm like, "Geeeeez, that was awful!" or, "Wow, that just made me want to knock her big, ugly, poofy, dumb, frizzy block off!".

Obviously, one of those things happened today. I had to run to SV to get new frames for Mr. B since he ran the old ones over with his tricycle. Yep. He only had them for one week. Serious. Anyways...went to SV, got the new frames, went to Ross, then to Arby's, then to the park before the afternoon storm hit.

And Mr. B and Mikey are all, "Come play with us! Climb up here! You can't catch me! I slide first!". And I'm all, "I am so gonna catch you and tickle the snot outa you and ya'll are gonna LOSE!" Well, I didn't actually say it, but I was totally thinking it, c'mon. What I said was more like, "Oh, I don't know! You might be tooooo fast for me! I don't think I can catch you!".

There were a couple of kids there when we got there and the moms were sitting on a bench in the shade, gossiping about the moms they both knew and discussing the inferior parenting styles of those said women. I could tell that it was a deep and emotional conversation as they continued to "pick a little, talk a little" in comfort.

I, on the otherhand, was running up and down teeny stairs, sliding down slides as long as my legs, and grasping onto burning hot fireman poles while chasing after little monkeys. After one little boy threw sand on my son for the third time, his mom looked over and sweetly said, "Bradley, honey, don't do that! The sand is dirty." and quickly resumed her conversation.
When the other womans little girl shoved Mikey down the slide, her mom said, "Sweetheart, play nice!" By that time, I was starting to get a little aggrivated with these street urchins and their perfect mommies who are sitting in the shade, because they are totally missing the first 12 times that the kids do something wrong, and then they yell accross the playground for them to stop!! Sheeeeesh!! How effective is that? How about NOT AT ALL!!!!!!!!!

So my solutions could be one of 4 things:

I could go up to the little boy and tell him that if he gets near my son again with any sand, I will pry open his little mouth and fill it with the dirty grit.

I could tell my boys to shove or throw sand back.

I could ask the moms to take a more active role in their kids playtime (what I was really thinking was; ask the moms to get offa their sour, bulging, gossiping booties and take care of these rotton, ratty, monsters! ahem...I meant children...obviously not an option).

I could have some group playtime - you know, an organized game.

I decide that we are going to play a game. I like games, and I want the boys to learn to play with others (the other two needed a lesson also). "How about playing tag?" I ask the kids. "Yeah!!" they say. (You know, hindsight being what it is, I probably should have chosen another game. Hemmm, I'll jot this one down as a "Shining Mommy Moment"...or not) So we get a little more organized and we start playing tag. This works well, but we still have a little directing to do with Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum (real names: Bradley and Bailey). "Oh, let's not be tooooo rough with the little ones." I calmly ask Dee. "Um, you don't need to tag him that hard, Dum." and "Hey! One a time on the slide." or "Do not touch his glasses again!" then "I think I heard your mommy calling you" and finally "Is that your ball rolling into the street?". By this time, the moms are getting aggrivated that someone else is dictating to their children and begrudgingly leave the comfort of the shade and start walking over to the playground.

"Stay away from those boys, Dee and Dum!" mom #1 shouts. "Don't play with them, they look like they are playing their own game" says mom #2. "Come here Dee!" says #1, "Come here right now! No! We are leaving, you can't stay any more. Don't go under that - I said DON'T! Get over here right now young lady. No, you cannot go down the slide one more time. I said - stop tha - don't go - can you hear me? Ok, 1......2....if you don't get over here by the count of three, you're gonna be in BIG trouble! 1.......2......2 1/2.......2 3/4.....I'm almost to 3! Stop that! It's time to go! Do you want something to eat? Are you hungry? Let go get some ice cream! 1.......2....... 2 1/2......Bailey Nicole, get over here right now. Am I going to have to come over there and get you? I really don't want to do that! I'll get sand in my sandles. GET OVER HERE! 1.........2.......2 1/2.......Ok, here I come and I'm not happy!! I mean it! Get your butt over here!" Mom #1 then proceeds to precariously pick her way throught the nasty field of sand to try to get Dee. Then, seeing that the sand is much "ickier" than she anticipates, she turns back and starts yelling from the sidelines again.

Mom of Dum, on the other hand, yells and says, "Get you butt over here right now or I'm gonna spank you!" to which Dum yells back, "No!!! I'm still playing!". Dum is rather angry so I should have known better than to think that mom could take care of everything, but right then, Mr. B came toddling by on the bridge. "I'm a troll and you can't pass!" (well, at least he got the troll part right), and Mr. B, not yet instructed in the ways of the 4 year old temper tantrum, innocently says, "No, thank you." and trys to push his way (rather roughly, I will admit) between the troll and the bridge. The troll leans back, pulls his hand back, and gets ready to whollip my almost 2 year old son.

This is it...the last straw. I take two steps and am on the kid in a minute. I grab his wrists (firmly but not hurting him) and tell him that he cannot hit little babies, it's not nice. Dum screams like mad when I catch him in the act "I didn't hit him! Let me go! I'm telling! He pushed me first! He started it! Owwwwwww!"

Dee is watching this scene and must have realized that nobody was watching her, so she tried, once again, to push little Mikey down the slide. In his attempt to not go down the slide sideways, he grasped empty air until he felt something solid and he held onto it. Except that solid thing happens to be the little girl's skirt. And he pulls it down. And she falls down the slide along with Mikey. Oh, brother....it looks bad for us.

Seeing the small scene of chaos before them, the mothers finally concede and quickly make their way through the "icky" sand towards the screaming children.

They are mad at me and ask me how I could let my children cause so much trouble.

I ask them how they enjoyed their chat in the shade.

They glare at me.

I let the screaming troll go. I get down and pick Mikey up out of the sand. They say, "She can't be their mother, look at her playing around, look at her hair. Look! She's dirty!" As if I wasn't there to hear them. Making sure the boys are ok, I look at these mothers and say, "As a Mom, I would rather get dirty, sweaty, and grimy while playing with my kids than get dirty, sweaty, and grimy while yelling at my kids and picking their spoiled bodies up outa the sand."

As they walked away muttering the words, "Irresponsible! Do you want ice cream? Disrespectful! I'm gonna count to three! Rude! Do you want something to cry about? Immature! Because I said so!" over the wailing of their kids they were dragging, I smiled as I climbed back up the steps to catch two little monkeys. I am one of the luckiest women alive to know what I know and to enjoy what I do. But I still wanted to knock #1's big, ugly, poofy, dumb, frizzy block off.

Here He Is!!!

Wow! Just when I was about to go searching for some other place to host our little family blog site, blogger gets back on track and everything seems right in the world again. We also recently returned from driving around and visiting family for a week, so I was able to calm down a little about this silly situation.

So, here he is. Mr. Bentley with his cute little coke bottle, ahem, I mean glasses, on. I will be updating more soon, but here's a quick shot of him eating dinner (which is now a MUCH less of a messy affair than it had been before.

Two days after he got them, he scratched them and we only get one new pair a year (for a two year old!!! give me a break!), so he is just dealing with it for now. Then, while riding his little trike around in the kitchen, yes - it's that big, and he took the glasses off and promtly ran them over. I panicked! After all, these are corrective, they have to stay on so the next pair won't be as strong. Oh, and did I mention that this happened on the Thursday before we were suppossed to leave on our trip to see the family? Yep...I called the eye doc and the girl says, "Oh, come in right now. We don't have any appointments. Tomorrow we are completely booked all day and we aren't open on Saturday". I roll my eyes and tell her that if I leave right now, I still won't be there for another hour and a half. But we are leaving on Sunday and we can't just let him not wear his glasses for 9 days. Sheesh, the things ya do for your kids. So we all hop in the car and leave for SV immediately to get the things bent back into shape. He still has to get new frames.

It's really hard to get him to wear them after about 4 in the afternoon. He is so polite when I say, "Hey, sweetie! Come put your glasses back on please!". He relpies with, "No, thank you, Momma". And this is only the first few weeks....This one is going to be a loooooooooooong row to hoe.....

Here's The Picture...

I don't know what's up with blogger right now, but I can't post any pics and it's aggrivating because I like to post w/pics. It just doesn't seem fun w/out them. Sheeesh....they'll be hearing from me shortly....

News From The Lambsons...

This isn't the greatest picture, but it's all we have right now. We will have more later. Or not!! Blogger STINKS!!! It won't let me download any pictures right now, so you'll just have to read this w/out one. How fun is that? Sorry. Will post ASAP!!!

Here I am again, with another stressful week behind me. Not only did Gila Man cut his wrist really badly at work, but Mr. B is cutting 4 new teeth and has been up every 2 hours at night for the last 4 days. Then the front door latch broke while we were outside and we were locked out for an hour until we remembered we had left one of the windows open. The cooler pump went out, the handles and hinges fell off my doors in the kitchen... sheesh! Things have just been a little off this week. BTW...I'm still happy to have a glass, I just need to vent a little.

The biggest news for our little family right now is that Mr. B (who will be 2 on October 25th) had his eyes checked and is extremely farsighted. Because of this, his eyes have to work very hard to see things up close and by the end of the day, his eye muscles just give up and his right eye rolls in toward his nose. I feel bad saying this, but I was heartbroken!! Oh, sure...things could have been worse, MUCH worse. If we had waited to see if he would "grow out of the problem" as was suggested to me by some friends, he would most certainly had to have had surgery. I don't know how parents deal with major illnesses in their children. I mean, the whole way home I kept thinking, "What did I do wrong? Could I have done something differently? Like eat more carrots while I was pregnant? Or chicken? Or fish? Or feed my kid more vegtables?". I just felt so guilty.

And face it...Nobody wants their child to have any handicaps in life. No matter how small. I don't want anything bad to happen to my little boy in his life...EVER!! No pee-wee football for this little man! He will be the newest "bubble boy"! Oh, help the first girl who breaks his sweet little heart.

Ok, so I'm going a little overboard and ya'll are thinking that I'm fanatical or something. Some would say you're right (I think that would include my husband, but don't listen to him. He has a biased opinion), but I do think that he looks cute. Like the little boy from Jerry McGuire and Stuart Little. And they stared in movies with big, famous, people...right? But if I had things my way, my sweet boy would learn all the lessons in life with out feeling even a little bit of pain or having hard times. But then, I guess he really wouldn't learn much that way. It's just a Momma's dream for her baby.

My Glass

Here is a picture of Mr. B with all his grandparents. I have one of these of me when I was his age, and I love it.

"I don't care if my glass is half-full or half-empty. I'm just happy to have a glass"


I don't know who wrote that but I think it's awesome. That's how I'm feeling right now - so darn lucky to have what I have and be who I am (though sometimes I am a little to kooky even by my standards, and that's A LOT). I HATE (not a word I use lightly) my hair and my new haircut, but at least I have hair. My head aches from watching other people's children all day, but I was able to spend this whole day with my son. I have heartburn from eating a boatload (really, like, a smallish cruise ship) of spaghetti for dinner, but at least I had dinner and got full from it. I just had to put more gas in my vehicle so I can drive tomorrow, but I have a REALLY nice vehicle and I am thankful that it's so dependable (AND I had the money for the gas, double points!). My house is a disaster right now! There are toys in every corner of the living room, wet footprints and towels in the foyer from our water fight this afternoon, crumbs on the counter from lunch, crayons and paper on the table, and I am just to tired to pick it all up. But I can look at that stuff and think about what I was doing with those kids today, and I immediatly smile.

I am one darn lucky woman. I am happy to have a glass.