The Ugly Underbelly of Motherhood.

Ok, I'll admit, that title might be a bit dramatic.

As much as we all love being mothers though, let's be honest, there are parts of it that really stink and I'm not just talking
about when your kiddo poops in her sling and it explodes half way down your shirt while you're in the midst of the human maze that is Costco. That type of stink can at least be tediously wiped off, in a public restroom, one insanely un-absorbent napkin at a time and that odor is able to be semi-blown away by the complimentary restroom hand dryer you're now getting to second base with while a complete saint of a stranger offers to hold your naked baby in what will be the one of the most humanitarian acts of her life according to you.

But I digress, let's now take a look at the aspects of motherhood that will not be as temporary and by everyone's calculation, probably last for the next 18 years.

So here we go- Things that totally stink about Mommyhood-

#1)Contagious Junk Drawerism. We all have those drawers in our house where on any given day we can locate a plethora of coupons, scissors, Scrabble tiles, tweezers, missing buttons, flashlights, rubber bands, outlet covers, Mardi Gras beads, nursing pads-because you never know when they may come in handy again even though you haven't breastfed in over a year (still, don't throw those puppies out!), baby shoes you've meant to get bronzed or hot glue into a scrap book or whatever, receipts, kool-aid packs where the powder is now more of a solid fruit punch block, and MIA stove knobs. Sometimes I honestly begin to wonder if my family has secretly adopted a highway somewhere and is dumping all of the contents of its shoulder into my kitchen drawers.

Either way, the thing no one tells you before you become a mother is that this crap collecting compulsion spreads. Before you know it you'll be out at a fancy event with your husband when you reach into your purse for a business card and instead end up pulling out a bouncy ball that through the magic of a half sucked on lollipop is now syrup-titiously bonded to a tampon. "You know what, how about I just find you on Linked-In? Yeah, nice meeting you too Senator!"

A mother's purse is a junk drawer in disguise, as well as any subsequent diaper bags she may have. That is why the darn things are always so ridiculously huge, so now you know.

#2) Cutting Bangs. This is the generational curse my family carries, which when considering we are Scotch/Irish, I suppose to some, chronically crooked bang cutting is worse than crippling alcoholism, but the jury's still out on that one in my household.

My grandmother had this disease, as evidenced by this picture of my mom and aunts; those poor girls. And my mother also had this disease, but thanks to extensive hair counseling she was able to make better choices when raising me and as a child I was able to go through tedious amounts of Bang Growing Out therapy, others may know it as Barrette To The Side training. I was one of the lucky ones, though, and while it may have skipped a generation, my girls have not been able to escape the wrath no matter how hard I tried to curb my cutting urge.

They tell you in therapy that the best way to overcome this a disease is to never make that first cut, but sadly three weeks ago, after nearly 18 months of Eddie undergoing a rigorous form of Pebbles Flintstone therapy I made that first crooked cut. And, in a windstorm, she has a perfectly adorable bob/bang combo today.

#3) Baby outfits people give you at your shower with words on the butt. Let me begin by saying I do not know when this fashion became acceptable but in the DeLaRosa house it's getting shut down. I am aware that a majority of the time that which lies below my daughter's velour covered and pamper laden booty is juicy, thank you very much, but the last thing I want to do is advertise such an unlovely gift from nature to everyone at the playground. They're all smart people; they can figure that one out for themselves.

So sorry, Mimi, PawPaw and Auntie Evelyn, the best you're going to get is a quick, staged pic of her in that outfit before I re-gift it next week to that poor unsuspecting preggo from MOPS. Baby pants with words on the butt are the new proverbial fruitcake.

#4) The asinine things your children force you to holler out while you are on an important phone call. Some examples are:

"That better be chocolate!"
"No! Only mommies can feed their human babies that way! Put. The. Turtle. Down. NOW!"
"Did you pee or is that just water? Either way don't sit on anything"
"No, you're not your brother's 'boyfriend.' You're his 'girlfriend.' No wait! You're his sister, and his friend, so you're his sisterfriend! Bottom line, you're too young to be anyone's boyfriend!"
"Do you see wings? Then, no, she can't fly. Get her down now!"

Usually these outbursts are followed by snickering on the other end of the line, which is precisely what you what when to hear when filing a complaint with the phone company, scheduling an appointment with your gynecologist's office, or giving a live radio interview.


While all of these loathsome moments of motherhood seem relentlessly annoying now, I find respite in the fact that one day I know I will look back at the pictures of my crooked banged children who have lollipops stuck to their velour butts and laugh wildly. Then I will subsequently pay for full-page ads in their senior yearbook and submit congratulatory wishes alongside said picture. Revenge can be sticky lollipop sweet sometimes. ☺

The Greatest Thing About Eddie Kazu.......

She thinks kisses are the greatest things that ever happened to her. She anticipates them and can barely manage her jubilation when they happen. I love her joy. It overwhelms me.

High Resolutions for 2009

1. Buy more dish soap. It just so happens that we are out, and so this will be an easy one to succeed at.

2. Invest more energy into the NWF's.

3. Cook more. Get better at it.

4. Be healthy, but not just that, ACTIVELY try to not look pregnant.

5. Only correct the grammar of people I love and care about (the ones who I don't want to look stupid in front of other people), and leave everyone else alone.

6. Start eating breakfast...I keep hearing that I need to do that.

7. Stop eating little smokeys for breakfast...even though technically it is one thirty, so maybe that makes this lunch.

8. Learn some spanish.

9. Go out of my way to do something nice for my husband or kids everyday.

10. Learn how to use semi-colons; I'm pretty sure I'm a flagrant over-user.

The Humane League

There is a woman in my neighborhood who walks her dogs. And by walks, I mean she holds one puff shaped little pup under each arm and walks. They don't...just her.

She is what you call a 'dog person.' I however am not.

Upon noticing this about myself I felt oddly a kin to the likes of a serial killer. I mean, there had to be that one day when the light bulb went off and they realized, 'wow, some people actually care if they are the reason for another persons demise...hmmm....that's odd.' This is me and pets. I'm that jerk who says 'WHAT?!?!?! You paid HOW MUCH to get you dog CHEMOTHERAPY???? What ON EARTH were you thinking?!?!?' I cannot fathom that type of innate compassion for an animal. To me this is absolute insanity. Don't get me wrong, it saddens me to think of dogs being put to sleep or hit by cars, but at the same time...c'mon, it's an animal, right?!?! And honestly, how am I the jerk? You're the ones picking and choosing which ones you eat, and which ones you buy matching family sweaters for the holiday greeting card picture. At least I'm across the board....not that I would eat my dog...I'm not saying that...calm down Bob Barker....ah, I digress.

So, here's the point: I like Nico. He's a friend, perhaps not my best. But then again, I'm not a man, so it really doesn't apply now does it? All that aside, today we had Nico neutered. So now neither of us our "men" and he certainly is no friend of mine. It was sad, on the way home I tried to pet his little head in the car and he quickly jerked it away. 'Dad' was the one who drove him to the vet but for some reason I'm the one being given the cold...nose.

And what's crazy is all day long I was thinking about him. Worried. I felt as though someone I actually cared about was in the hospital undergoing surgery. (Let me pause here to say for all of you "dog people" I realize I sound a bit cavalier in my emotional description, but this is new for me...I'm usually seen as a "people person") So, oddly enough I think, perhaps, my grench sized heart took it's first ever canine loving beat today. I finally feel human(e).

I'm thinking about replacing this section on the site. Opinions?

WHAT ABOUT ABORTION IN THE CASE OF RAPE OR INCEST?

Let me begin by stating the sole purpose of this question is to make pro-lifers out to be monsters. It was designed as a catch twenty two, but if someone is actually willing to listen to our response then we must be prepared to articulate it clearly and logically for them.

If we say that we are accepting of abortion in these rare (1%) cases we have immediately lost all credibility. Ultimately we've taken the legs out from under the 'sanctity of life argument' which many of us believe so passionately in. What makes a child conceived under these horrific terms any less of a person than one conceived through a loving, caring relationship? Why is it alright for this child to be torn limb by limb but not the other? In my opinion this is the Achilles’ heel of the pro-life movement. More often than not we are divided over this question even though our core beliefs are united.

Now, if we say we oppose abortion under any circumstance, then we are heartless, and ultimately anti-woman. This is simply untrue.

Recently, I attended a protest where a woman was carrying a sign reading “(a certain political candidate) believes in making rapists fathers.” My question is this, what is the other alternative? Making a rape victim a murderer? I know that sounds a bit harsh but often times they accuse themselves of murder in the end, being able to forgive their perpetrated but not themselves.

After a woman has been assaulted, having her body violently invaded, why would we assume that the best thing for her is to have it invaded again? David Reardon complied a book of testimonies from these women who we frequently hear spoken for, but are rarely heard from. And you know what? Quite a few of them are disgusted by the fact that so many individuals use their circumstances as grounds for justifying abortion. Because this has become such an acceptable social norm in any case of unexpected pregnancy, when it comes to an instance of rape or incest, we immediately assume we are doing these women justice by forcing abortions on them. After going through the trauma of rape many women are literally broken and understandably not thinking clearly. Add to this the fact that their loved ones assume an abortion is the only thing that will take away this unspeakable memory and these women are left with little CHOICE of their own.

The fact is nothing will take away a rape. Nothing will ever erase that memory from their mind. Nothing will make it more acceptable, and nothing will make it easier to live with. In the end an abortion only exacerbates the issue, which is truly anti-woman.

The good news; with all new life there is also new possibility. The possibility for joy to come out of pain, and light to come out of darkness. How can the world steal that away from these women? It's unjust. In my opinion this should be our response.

Abstinence is enough for our children's textbooks

By KYLEEN WRIGHT

After reading the Rev. George Mason's column, "Theology of Sex," it strikes me that although we appear to be on opposite sides of this issue, we have much in common.

Like Dr. Mason, I am also teaching my children abstinence, and agree that it is not necessary to use shame, fear or incomplete information to teach our children about human sexuality.

I imagine most parents would agree that schools have no business undermining what we are teaching our teens about sex and the responsibility that accompanies it. Just as it is not the school's place to teach my sons religion, neither is it the school's place to teach human sexuality in a way that contradicts our faith, as well as the laws of this state.

Don't we all support age-appropriate and medically accurate information? The devil is in the details. Who decides what is age-appropriate information for the eighth- and ninth-graders who will take this mandatory health course?

In 1995, a bipartisan Legislature answered the question. Abstinence must be stressed, but local school boards can decide what (if any) sex education will be taught in addition to the mandatory abstinence education. Local health advisory committees, which are to be dominated by parents, are set up to assist each local school board with this decision. In addition, parents, as the ultimate decision makers, were guaranteed the right to pull their children out of any of these programs.

Including sensitive material in the textbook of a mandatory health course is a backdoor attempt to violate the spirit of the law, if not the law itself. While I am content to let liberals educate their children in the manner they see fit, why are they not always eager to extend that same right to me when it conflicts with their agenda?

The fact is that a majority of parents in Texas disagree with Dr. Mason's friends at Texas Freedom Network and Planned Parenthood, who push sex as a recreational activity to be pursued with whomever, whenever teens in their infinite wisdom decide they are ready.

Some of us have observed that even as the rate of condom use among teens has risen as much as 40 percent, the rates of sexually transmitted diseases have continued to skyrocket. Comprehensive sex ed has ruled the educational roost for three decades, buoyed by the AIDS scare in the 1980s. Instead of a reduction in pregnancy or births, Texas saw a doubling of teen pregnancy rates. We have gone from the big three STDs when I was in high school - syphilis, gonorrhea and herpes - to 35 sexually transmitted diseases known to be prevalent.

Even the National Institutes of Health state that when it comes to many STDs, they can't say how effective - if at all - condoms are. Turns out that some STDs are spread from skin-to-skin contact, and condoms don't cover everything. That is the God's honest, loving truth our kids need to know.

In the early 1990s groups such as ours began offering abstinence education in schools and churches in response to the moral, social and economic chaos our teens experienced as a result of decades of these flawed, value-neutral sex programs. Immediately the pregnancy rate began dropping, and it has come down every year since. Last year Texas was one of three states to receive a $19.9 million award from the federal government for reducing out-of-wedlock births without increasing abortions.

All over the country, abstinence is making a comeback. Rolling Stone magazine even called it the "new revolution." Abstinence is the reason teen pregnancy and birth rates are coming down. Abstinence is the loving truth that will protect our kids.

Kyleen Wright is president of the Texans for Life Coalition. Her e-mail is kwright@texlife.org.

Scraps

and excerpts...that weren't used, but that I'm still moderately satisfied with. (haha, that was a re-write of 'but I'm still proud of')

Pro-Life Feminists: Think Twice Before You Call Us Oxymorons!

There has been a lot of controversy in the news lately over the idea of Pro-Life Feminism. To many people, this is a non sequitur. Not based in logic or reason, rather on societal stereotypes. Who’s ever known a feminist who’s not Pro-Choice?

Allow me to shed some light on the logic behind this growing movement and also let you in on a little secret: Women, have been utterly deceived by society’s version of women’s liberation and by our “right” to abortion. It’s a crock and here’s why...
As a mother, I can tell you the most courageous decision I ever made in my life was bringing my son into this world when I was only 17 years old. I was single, terrified, and oddly enough, up for the challenge. Through this profound blessing I was able to discover a strength inside of myself that I never knew I even possessed. Choosing abortion to me would have meant running away from a fact. I WAS A MOTHER NOW. Nothing was going to change that, abortion or otherwise. In my opinion it would have been cowardly to terminate my pregnancy and meant I was running away from it; the very opposite, I thought, of what a strong, capable woman would do in this situation. Through my experience, I became super woman; resilient, powerful, and able to take on anything the world handed me.

The suffrage movement (note that I did not say the 'feminist movement') began as a way to acquire equal rights for women, rights which we desperately needed to be an active, contributing part of society. Rights which we deserved; the right to vote; the right to fair wages. Years later the feminist movement came along, still following the same basic concept of gaining equality, but with a few new; very deceiving, very detrimental twist. One which replaced striving for equality with settling for equality. No women deserves abortions rights. This is not an prize, rather a punishment. What intelligent woman would honestly fight for her ‘right’ to perpetuate a violent crime against her God given super power? The one thing which makes her unique...and in my opinion, superior.

Women began to think that if they were chained down with the burden of motherhood then we would never be able to compete in this man's world. So, what is the solution you fiery, old school feminists? Simple. Eliminate the problem. All very logical.
Very masculinely formulated. Unfortunately, also incredibly short sided. After we've 'eliminated the problem(s),' however many might rear their ugly pink plus signs over our 40+ year careers, then what? We get a corporate job, a commemorative gold watch and tear filled retirement party? We'll sure...that's comparable....or not. Now, will this gold watch be able to eliminate the years of guilt and anguish that MANY women feel following the violence of abortion? Will it compensate for a lifetime lost to inexplicable anger rooted in these women's psyche from going against nature and aborting their unborn child(ren)? Will it unshackle those same chains of bondage that we were fighting so hard to escape from in the first place? I propose this, why settle for equality when we are designed to do something no man will ever be able to do?

Who’s the oxymoron now?

4 years ago.....

I was opening wedding shower gifts and assembling them while my family (at that time just Aiden and Abrahm) were fast asleep.

At 2am when I got the phone call about my brother I came rushing over, to the house that I know live in, to tell my dad. It's weird, I stood outside knocking and ringing the doorbell for what felt like 10 minutes. I kept calling their phone and no one would answer. Maybe it was just that night, but I remember it being eerily dark, and not wanting to stand out on the front porch a moment longer than I had to....

4 years later, things have really changed. My family is still fast asleep but now with two new additions, and one less.

Screw Equality.

Pro-Life Feminism.

I know many people hear this and think it's a blatant oxymoron. Perhaps; but humor me for a moment and allow me a chance to present my case on the subject.

The suffrage movement (note that I did not say 'feminist movement') began as a way to acquire equal rights for women; the right to vote; the right to fair wages. Now years later the feminist movement has come along, still following the same basic concept of gaining equality, but with a few new twist. A few very deceiving and detrimental twists, because this is where abortion rights come into play.

Women began to think that if they were chained down with the burden of motherhood they would never be able to compete in this man's world. In all fairness, men don't have to deal with 9 months of pregnancy, hormones, mood swings, morning sickness. Further more they don't have to take a leave of absents after delivery while they breast feed, nurture and rear the child. Obviously, this is 'THE Man's' way of maternally shackling us to the stove, right?

So, what is the solution you fiery feminists, we ask. Simple. Eliminate the problem.

All very logical. Very masculinely formulated. Unfortunately, also short sided.

After we've 'eliminated the problem(s),' however many might rear their ugly pink plus signs over our 40+ year career, then what?

We get a commemorative gold watch and tear filled 'you done good' retirement party? We'll sure...that's comparable....I suppose.

Now, will said gold watch be able to eliminate the years of guilt and anguish that MANY women feel following the act of abortion? Will it compensate for the lifetime lost to inexplicable anger rooted in these women's psyche from going against nature and terminating their unborn child(ren)? Will it unshackle those same chains of bondage that we were fighting so hard to escape from in the first place? Or are we just simple making the "choice" to pick which prison we'll spend our lives in bondage to?

I propose this, why settle for equality when we are designed to do something no man will ever be able to do? I say we stop worrying about glass ceilings, and demand they put us up on pedestals where we belong. Without our wombs not only will corporate America cease to exist but I'm pretty sure life on earth will as well.

It's time we stop striving for equality and start embracing our supremacy.

Doesn't anyone else find it a little odd that the feminist movement has us suppressing the one ability we have which makes us preeminent? Not very progressive.

Think of how we, as women, can change the world by create phenomenal beings, instilling in them amazing dreams and promises and then giving them their own chance to go out and change the world, all while creating more phenomenal beings, and so on and so on...it's a constantly growing ripple with endless potential and power...much more impressive than any watch, no matter how expensive.

I have a daughter...

Another daughter. Not that it makes a difference; but it does.

Now, if I say "Oh, my husband's at home with our daughter," I have to add to that sentence...'our youngest daughter...or oldest...or both', which ever will apply. I'm now the mother of a differential pair of daughters. This is substantial. Before I heard people say 'past two kid and it's all the same.' Simply untrue. Not that it is so much harder, but the fact is I want credit for the amount of flesh mass I've created on this earth; the square feet of carbon foot print that my labor and toil has granted this planet! Sure it may not be "green," but I should certainly get acknowledge for originating so much "tan." I mean, I've gestated a lot of tan...well... Eddie's more 'olive' but that's neither here nor there.

Either way, I made one heck of a good look'en baby.

Jesus Is Coming To Town

I was 9 years old when my grandmother told me that Jesus was going to be coming back on Christmas Eve.

My grandmother always seemed to have insider evangelical information, mainly stuff discovered from years of theological studies, but from time to time, bits of prophesy was acquired from late night infomercials as well.

Either way, I recall thinking 'who in their right minds proceeds to tell a nine year old something of this nature?' As if I would be elated, having already lived a good long life, sowed my wild oats, and come to the conclusion that I wanted the Lord to hurry up and take me out of this God forsaken place already...not so much. My days consisted mostly of tea parties and amusement parks, so the last thing I was looking forward to was being "raptured."

It was a few days before Christmas Eve and in the way misery loves company, also does shear panic and anxiety, so I decided to break the news to my 7 year old brother. Needless to say our holiday vacation didn't have that carefree air about it that it used to. When Christmas Eve finally arrived I remember my brother and I were on our best behavior, not wanting to bicker or fight, or use the restroom much for that matter...I mean who wants to be taken up mid-tinkle? The day proceeded to go by as usual and still no second coming. By this point the anticipation had consumed our every thought and we saw little purpose in leaving cookies & milk out for Santa or wasting time dreaming of sugarplums or the gifts that would never be opened.

My mother had decided to put us to bed at a cruel hour that night, around 8 o'clock, so that "Santa" could get an early jump on things. To her curiosity I passed up a night in my own cozy bed and instead chose to roll out my sleeping bag on my brother's floor. I figured this way when it happened I would know immediately, rather than risk being left behind, and not discovering this chilling fact until the next morning when I would wake up in a tinsle decorated ghost town.

Needless to say, these were the longest 4 hours of our entire lives. My brother and I were both glued to the clock, watching as final minute, after final minute ticked by. At this point I'll note that yes, it was a given that Christ worked according to Central Standard Time. We were small children and didn't realize he had other options. And then, finally, the moment had come. The clock read 11:59. It was J.C.'s last chance, and man, had he really drug this whole debacle out...but really, who can blame him, you only get to orchestrate a second coming once, right?

I don't think either of us took in one ounce of oxygen for that entire minute. And when the clock finally struck 12, and the blue started to leave our little faces I remember wondering how my grandmother must be feeling right at that same moment. Was she embarrassed by her miscalculation; was she up, feverishly writing Robert Tilton hate mail; had she perhaps simply shrugged it off and headed back to bed thinking 'oh well, maybe next year.' Did she even realize that she complete robbed her two precious little grandchildren of the joy of Christmas this year?

All I know is that we never told our mother, in fear that she wouldn't let us go over to grandma's house anymore, so obviously her positives must've outweighed her negatives.

By the way, that Christmas she gave me a bike and $200 dollars, which goes to show she had somewhat thought ahead and couldn't have been all that invested in this whole rapture on Christmas Eve idea. And years later when I asked about this landmark moment in my childhood, she laughed and told me she had just gone to sleep that night, same as any other, just as I suspected.

Cease and Desist

Anyone who knows my husband knows that he has many "adorable quirks" we'll call them. One of my favorites in particular I have lovingly coined his 'cease and desist maneuver.'

I was warned about it even before we were married by my sister-in-law. She was telling this story about a time when they were in Chicago on a subway together and suddenly she became incredibly ill. And before she knew what hit her she was actually vomiting all over the floor. In a dazed stupor she looked around, expecting to see her valiant, older brother rushing to her side, but he was no where to be found. As it turns out, the second she became sick, Abrahm took off, and was more than likely three cars down by the time she needed her hair held back.

It was not until years later that I was able to witness this seemingly involuntarily reaction first hand. We were enjoying a nice, sunny day at Herman Memorial park in Houston when we decided to stop and get some snow cones with our son. While in line I notice quite a few bees that were swarming the syrup bottles, and subsequently any guests who were taking away syrup soaked cones. Being the planner I am, I decided to stock up on a ridiculous amount of napkins before leaving the cart. I know, not very 'green' of me. Either way as we're walking along enjoying our snack I noticed a man in front of us pushing a baby stroller. He was fairly tall, wearing dark sunglasses, a black shirt and black athletic shorts. Suddenly he turns around and says "hey, let me have a napkin." I thought, 'wow, that's a bit forward, but ok, I know I did take more than my fair share,' and just as I went to extent my arm and offer him a portion of my stack I see his wife doing the same thing out of the corner of my eye. Immediately I realize what a public fool I've made of myself, obviously he was not talking to me, and as I turn to share my burden of embarrassment with Abrahm I notice he had grabbed our son's hand and they must've been a good 15 yards away already! Had he seen this man's wife, known precisely who he was talking to, and watched the whole train wreck take place without warning me?!?!? Needless to say I have my own involuntarily physical reactions to embarrassingly, hilarious moments like this one, and literally had to collapse on the ground in a seated position not to give way to my incontinence.

After a few more uneventful years past, I thought to myself perhaps he's been cured, perhaps those were just a few isolated incidents. Surely he would not ever do something like that again to his beloved wife and now the mother of three of his children by this point. But no, the truth was quickly revealed as we took our daughter to her very first outing at the movies.

We were sitting in packed row as Abrahm passed me a ridiculously large barrel of popcorn. I took a handful I passed it back but it was intercepted by our 2 year old daughter. After a few seconds of humoring her and allowing her to feel like a 'big girl' he mouthed to me that letting her hold the bucket, which was as big as she was, probably wasn't the best idea. I agreed and went to retrieve it. And just as I began to lower the bucket into my lap for some strange reason I thought I should uncross my legs at precisely the same moment. I swear, just like you see it happen on T.V. this barrel of popcorn went hurling into the air, making two to three full rotations before landing upside down on the woman's head in front of me.

Now as someone who makes an ass out of myself quite regularly, I have learned to appreciate certain moments in my life more than fear them. I immediately knew of ten people who I could relay this story to while they were drinking a beverage and liquid would literally spray out of their nose. Which any story teller knows is the pentacle of success when telling a funny story.

What made this whole scene even better was the woman had insanely curly hair and every time she thought she had retrieved all of the kernels, I had to hold back bursts of laughter and tell her there was still more debris left behind. I'm quite sure that she thought I either had a mental illness or I had done this on purpose, because certainly a decent human being would feel far too guilty to laugh at a time like this. But honestly, the root of all my joy came from the fact that I knew Abrahm was hopelessly, and completely trapped. Our row was filled to capacity and there was no swift escape in sight this time baby. The desisting had ceased...at least for now.

I'm sure before I give this speech again at our 50th wedding anniversary I will have had plenty more opportunities to scare off my wonderful husband and shame him endlessly into the sunset.

Funny story...

Have you ever been tipped over in a canoe?

After the first few moments of twisting and twirling in complete disbelief you come to the realization that you must now figure out which way is up.

What would you say if I told you I have discovered a figure of speech that evokes precisely this same emotion, minus the water?

Recently, while on an underground exploration of the Onondaga Caverns, our tour guild was asked why there was an outbound telephone, seemingly misplaced on one of the trails, to which she boisterously replied, "Funny story...last year a man actually had a heart attack down here and died..." Now eventually, yes, she did get to a small tid-bit of humor a few minutes into her story (nothing to write home about) but because of how she inappropriately began recounting the event I was practically bursting with laughter the whole entire time.

These two little words took a mildly amusing story from mediocre to full blown jocularity!

Now I've decided that I must start implementing this completely mind baffling phrase into my everyday announcements on a regular basis. Listen to how they spice things up:

"Funny story, I took a pregnancy test earlier today and you are not going to believe this..." or how about "Funny story, you know that rash that I thought was poison ivy..." or even, "Funny story, you know how I told you your dog ran away when you were 8 years old..." At this point, it helps if you also add some sort of whimsical knee slap or breathy laughter to make the amusement of said bad news more believable.

While you may simply be disguising something negative with a vail of optimism, perhaps by the time the devastating disclosure you've delivered sinks in our old pal "funny story" will just be a memory...or, at the very least, blacked out by trauma.

And while not all of our conversational companions may actually reach the top of the water, as not every "funny story" will have a punch line, we can at least hope that it will make the struggle for air a bit more entertaining.

Vacational Work

If you still want to see more of our vacation highlights, excluding this dream boat who stole my heart...



go to this address for a slideshow:
http://s29.photobucket.com/albums/c290/RAINYDAZE777/?action=view¤t=985d3396.pbw

Vacation, all I ever wanted, vacation, needed to get away

So...this is the best I could do as far as size format goes. Anyway, as you can see we're smiling in all of them, so needless to say, it was a great time to be had by all!

I <3 Having A Backyard

Altered Boy & Buck Toothed Betsy

Track Marks

Isn't it odd how one simple song can transport you back in time as if you were literally reliving a particular moment all over again.

Sometimes it's a happy moment, sometimes sad. Sometimes it marks a season and shows you how far you've progressed.

Sometimes it's a melodic land mind which reveals that you are not nearly as far from that moment as you thought were.

At the same time there's a certain comfort in knowing that those emotions are just one track away.

Here's my latest rekindled ruin:



What's yours? What moment? What song?

Welcome To My Life

there's no turning back...

and I'm quite ok with that. (:

My Post Secrets

Sometimes my anxiety feels like it's bigger than my God. I'm sorry Jesus.

My children make my life worth living. That's a lot to put on them. I really hope it doesn't screw them up one day.

Every time you try to comfort me by saying 'I would never have an affair, I'm not that type of person.' It reminds me that I am.

Sometimes it feels like my purpose in life has ruined my life.

Since when did it become ok to replace the phrase 'Congratulations on your pregnancy!' with 'So, is he going to get a vasectomy after this one?' Frankly, that is none of your business but thank you for letting me know how offensive my blatant reproduction is to you, A-hole.

I never want to have a supernatural experience. ever.

and finally...

When I was 14 a boy from my school, that I didn't know, died. I wanted to fit in with all of the other kids who were crying so I went to the bathroom and put red lip liner on under my eyes. It worked.