Yes, on purpose. 

No, not because I have diaper rash.

You would too, if your skin looked like this: 

The picture doesn’t even do it justice because I had to take it myself with no flash.  Wondering what happened?  Well, my nurse midwife and I (I don’t want any comments about midwives and their lack of knowledge either) decided that we needed to switch my anti-depressant to wellbutrin.  So we did.  It started as a small rash on the middle of my tummy.  I thought it was a side effect until it started radiating outwards.  It has yet to reach my neck or my knees, but you can guess about all the other places that this rash is currently invading.

Not fun.

And I just want to say that my confidence in my medical professional ALWAYS SKYROCKETS when they say, "Gee, I’ve never seen that happen before."   Or "I don’t know what would be in an antidepressant that would cause an allergic reaction."  Yeah.  Not really.

It itches.  It’s bumpy.  I don’t want to wear any clothes.  

I don’t know if the Desitin is working or not. 

"Did you give the baby watermelon?  Because her bum is all wet and it smells like watermelon."
                                                                 -Charming 

Engineer had his preschool graduation a couple of nights ago.  It was fun, but I must say the child was a little less than enthusiastic.  He’s sort of a slow to warm up kid who tends to be non-participatory.  He’s not shy, necessarily, more like totally unwilling to do ANYTHING he DOESN"T WANT to do. But that’s his personality.

The day before the program, his teacher told me he didn’t have a speaking part because he didn’t want one.  

And so while all his friends went up and did the program Engineer sat on the sidelines and squawked. 

And this boy who didn’t want any attention on him, ironically, ended up being the center of attention because he was being such a booger.

See the hole in the group where Engineer is supposed to be?  See how he covered his eyes and told EVERYONE with a camera not to take his picture?

Well, halfway through the program, they watched a video of themselves and Engineer happily went to sit with friends.  And then he started to participate.  And by the end he was one happy little graduate.

..apparently.  Sugar is my little chatterbox, especially at night when she is supposed to be going to bed.  Tuesday night I came home from my Mary Kay unit meeting and crawled into bed with her and listened to her jabber away.  Because I love hearing her ramble on.  It’s one of life’s sweetest things to me right now.  And on Tuesday, she randomly started talking about getting baptized.  (Even though in our church, kids don’t get baptized until they are eight.)

So in an attempt to recreate our silly conversation I tried to prompt her on film.  But seriously, she’s much cuter at night.  Enjoy. 

As we were driving in our van the other day, there were some cyclists on the road taking up all the road and of course going well under the speed limit.  My sweet four year old boy says, "Knock ‘em over mom!"

I then told him we couldn’t do that, to which he replied, "Well then how do we get rid of them?"

Well between having strep throat and a downed internet connection, I have been unable to post.

And now I just don’t have time for a decent one… 

My Mommy’s coming to visit me tomorrow, so hopefully I’ll be back on Monday.

Have a great weekend! 

Do you ever feel like you are just a manager of "stuff"?

I do.  Our house is so full of  good ol’ c-r-a-p that I feel like I am spending a lot of time just trying to take care of it all.  When people ask me what I do for a living (not that they do) I should say that I am in management.  "Oh?" they will ask.  "What do you manage?"  Oh, you know I run a household of junk and small people.  "Really?"  they will say as they roll their eyes at me.  Yes.  It takes a lot to manage more possessions than one can handle.  Quite frankly, I don’t have time to have this conversation with you, for as we speak, the stuff is getting out of control.

Seriously. 

So I have made a decision to downsize.  My sanity demands it.  And as painful as it was I started with my own belongings.  Particularly my own personal stuffed animals.  One such friend who will be departing our family is a very loved and special one.  A sweet and fluffy little elephan that I longed to have and when I finally recieved her I affectionately named her Elly.  (Yeah, not the most creative of names, but hey, I was 10.)

And as I was putting Elly and a few other toys into a big plastic sack, Sugar had a complete come-apart.  

"Don’t put those in the GARBAGE!!!!"

It was just too much for her little 2-year old mind to take.  She was screaming and tossing everything out of the bag. She was a little ball of fury and tears and I wasn’t much better off!  I am trying to make my life easier here!  I realized my idea to do this while children were present, was a very bad choice indeed.  One very long tantrum and a timeout later Sugar and I sat at the computer while I googled images of Poor African Children.  

Me: See those kids?
Sugar: uh-huh
Me: Do they look sad?
Sugar: (Sniffling) uh-huh.
Me: Do you think they have any toys?
Sugar: (nodding and smiling) Uh-huh.
Me: Um, no.  NO they don’t have any toys.  Isn’t that sad?
Sugar: (frowning) Yeah.
Me: So should we give them some of our toys?
Sugar: Yeah. 

So that was that.  I don’t know if that was a good parenting moment or just an act of desperation.  I sure do hope that when I take Elly to the DI that she gets sent to a poor child with no toys instead of sitting on the shelf of the thrift store.  I’m still a little broken up about giving my friend away.  Writing this post has made me begun to queston my decision. Since I haven’t taken the stuff yet, maybe it’s not too late… 

 Have you heard of Poetry Thursday?  I read some of Beth’s and decided to try it out for myself.

My random word was "soil."

 This is what I came up with.  I am no poet, it’s been a while since I have attempted.

 Soil

The earth, the ground, the dirt
I plant a seed and it grows
Becoming flower or vegetable
Something incredible

The seeds of myself are not so literal
I am not forced to grow only in one place

And yet I am planted
Am planting
And am growing

My soil is my faith
And my roots sink deep in it
I am fertilized by my trials
Nourished by my God
And strengthened by His Word

What will keep my from being uprooted?
Like a weed…
My beauty? My thorns?
Only my roots…

Planted in fertile soil
And nurtured and pruned
Becoming the vegetation
That the Gardener wants.

So, we have caller id now, in fact we even have call waiting caller id.  I love having these things, but I must admit, I also have some mixed feelings.  Caller id, it seems, can be both a help and a hindrance.

For one thing, I love being able to see who’s beeping in on the other line and determine whether or not I should take the call.  If Charming is beeping in, I know I can just call him back, because he is easy to get a hold of.  If a customer or someone else who isn’t apt to return phone calls beeps in, then I can take it.  It’s fantastic.  (I otherwise don’t care for call waiting, kind of rude if you ask me.)  I also like knowing who called even if they didn’t leave a message.

But sometimes I don’t answer the phone because I know who it is (or think I do).  This isn’t always good.  I might not hear about and emergency if I don’t feel like picking up for a family member, and sometimes a blocked call is a customer or a friend, or an important person for Charming to speak with.  I am probably offending people.  I might be missing out.  Or I might just be saving me some time.

So it’s good and bad.

But something exciting happened today.

New York called. 

Yes, that’s right, the actual city (or maybe the state, not real sure) of New York called me on the phone. Well, okay, he asked for Charming (yes New York is a he), but the caller id had the number and the name was NEW YORK. I told New York that Charming  wasn’t available and New York wanted to talk to my husband so bad he asked for an alternate number.  I gave it to him, (he was New York, after all) and that was the end of our conversation.

I mean, I figured if he wasn’t New York he would have said so, right?  He didn’t tell me any other name, so hey, my caller id wouldn’t lie to me, right?  And in case you ladies were wondering, New York has a very pleasant voice.   

P.S. I know you can see New York’s number on the image, but please, please refrain from calling him up.  Based on the fact that he seemed too busy to introduce himself on the phone properly, I think he’s got a lot going on right now. 

I was making this noise for Spider last night, and she just kept laughing.  I guess she was a little bit punchy, and as with all things, the thrill wears off just when you get the camera out.  Notice how she tries to get at the camera.