This time of year, more than any other, the pressure is intense to get everything just right.  Pressure to be ready, pressure to go above and beyond, pressure to stop focusing on the wrong details, pressure to enjoy the season.

So many mixed messages.  "Are you ready?  Not much time left.  Hurry up!  Slow down.  More, bigger, better!  Simplify.  Shop till you drop.  Cherish family.  Enjoy the season!  Remember the meaning of it all."  All of the voices whispering.  "You're doing it wrong.  Get it together.  This is of utmost importance and you are blowing it."


Last week sickness hit the family.  Sickness.  Now.  Like I have time for this.  As if I don't have enough going on.  Sickness.

And when it finally passed, and I took a look around, I saw major setback.  I was already behind in my preparations.  My house wasn't quite clean enough to start getting out all the decorations.  I hadn't even pulled out the Advent stuff.  I was so behind.  Then add another week of just dragging ourselves through.  And do you know what happens to the house while I am waiting on two sick littles?  It gets wrecked.  Dishes piled up high and so much laundry.

I haven't even had time to address all the Christmas cards.  And I have already received two.  Two moms that have it more together than I do.

On St. Nicholas Day I forgot to put out their gifts until half way through the day.  I had to do the whole, sneak it out and try to pretend they have been there the whole time and no one noticed.

And here we are half way through Advent and we haven't even gotten out the Advent calendar.  Or the Jesse tree.  We haven't started making homemade ornaments for the Jesse tree like I promise every year we will do "next year."  Another year goes by and I still don't even own an Advent wreath.

And all the Pinterest moms are doing it so much better.

I remember my own childhood.  I remember doing the Jesse tree every year and lighting the candles on the Advent wreath.  I remember excitedly opening the doors on our Advent calendar.

I want my children to have those same memories.  To understand what Christmas is really about.

Mom had it together.  At least that's the way I remember it.  Funny thing is, I don't know for sure.  Did we always have all those things every year?  Did we ever get half way through Advent before we managed to dig it all out.  Maybe mom felt the same way I do and we were just too young to notice.  Maybe what really mattered was what we did and not what we didn't do.

Maybe other mothers have it less together than I think they do.  My friend, who sent the first card of the season.  Confided in me that half her cards went out without stamps.  Now she has to readdress and resend all those cards.  I'm ashamed to have felt a little relieved when she told me that.

I watch my kids get excited about their little pipe cleaner Advent wreaths.  And argue about who will get to put today's part of "The Story of Christmas" on the little tree.  And add a little bit of straw yarn to their wrapping paper tube manger to get it ready for the clothespin baby Jesus on Christmas.  In the back of my mind I see that box in the closet with all the other Advent items I haven't gotten out.  I don't even have the Nativity up!  Flashes of the Pinterest board, with all the other amazing ideas to take things above and beyond, fill my head.


Then I hear the Princess telling her brother, "Christmas is not about the presents.  It's about baby Jesus's birthday!"  I saw her eyes fill up with tears on the Sunday she was too sick to go to church because she didn't want to miss the second purple candle being lit.

I hear them make the connections.  Remembering a bible story, thinking to pray for someone, caring for each other and for "Mr. Cool."

Maybe I am doing something right?  Or maybe they are learning despite my shortcomings.

I think maybe there is a reason that now more than any other time of year we find ourselves falling short.

It's a pretty good reminder of what it's really all about.  Isn't it?

Because if we did have it all together.  If we were Pinterest perfect people.  We wouldn't even need Christmas.

Christ didn't come for the people who had their acts together.  He came for the struggling, for the weak, for the searching.

Even for the moms who are weeks behind on their blog, have a sink full of dishes, half a stack of Christmas cards to address, mount laundry ready to erupt, no Advent wreath, an undisplayed Nativity, and a mess in the corner where the Christmas tree is supposed to go.

Especially for those kinds of moms!



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Usually we host Thanksgiving dinner at our house.  Since we bought this house we have hosted every year with the exception of the year Matthew died.

This year the plan was the same.  We would host as we normally did.  Then things started to get complicated.  We struggled to work out all the details and nothing felt right.

And honestly, I was exhausted.  Mentally exhausted.

As an introvert, there are times when I just feel a strong sense of mental fatigue.  All I want to do is cave myself in a dark hole somewhere and rest.  Burrow into my blankets and snuggle up with my thoughts.  And the calm.

Yesterday, I read this post and it reminded me of a specific trip I took to the grocery store when the Peanut was a little guy.  I don't remember exactly how old he was but my daughter wasn't born yet so he would have been younger than two.

About half way through my grocery shopping he started throwing a huge fit.  And let me tell you.  He was the master of the fits.  The blood curdling shriek kind of fits.


Once he got started, there was just no stopping him.  That put a quick end to my shopping trip.

And I think only a parent can really understand the frustration of having to leave a grocery store without all the groceries.

Anyone with kids knows what an ordeal grocery shopping can become when you have to take little kids along.  There is never a quick trip for essentials.  Just getting to the store is a colossal effort.  You have to get the timing just right.  Not nap time, not food time, not grouchy time, not poopy time.  You have to find the time when your baby is the most likely to let you get through the store without incident.  That time doesn't actually exist but you make your best effort.  Then you have to get yourself and the baby dressed, pack up all the necessary gear, diapers, wipes, entertainment, food items, pacis, anything that will keep that baby happy.

Load it all up in the car and get yourselves out the door.  Which is right when the baby will need a diaper change.  Back in, change, back out.  At this point, you are running much later than you thought you would be and it is encroaching dangerously in on nap, feeding, grouchy time or worst of all poopy time.  There is nothing worse than a poop explosion at the grocery store.  Don't ask me how I know that.

By the time you have done all the work of getting to the store, you better bet you aren't just going to grab that one thing and get out of there.  Because that would mean having to go through all the preparation AGAIN, another day, for the rest of the groceries.  Nope.  Not even gonna happen.  Once you manage to get there you better get everything.  As in anything and everything you will need for the next month, year, however long you can make it before items would start to actually spoil.

There is no greater tragedy than getting home and realizing you forgot that one essential item.  Because there is no going back.

How many times have you heard or even thought, "If my child ever threw a fit like that we would just leave the cart and walk right out of the store."

Most people say phrases like this all the time.  Until they actually have kids.  I'm guilty of it myself.  I promised myself I would "never be that parent."

Ever find yourself asking that question?

You look at another mom and she seems to have it all together.  She manages to do all the things and balances everything flawlessly.  She is perfect in every way.  So calm, cool, collected.

She is the perfect wife and mother.

She is the person who actually does the things she pins to Pinterest.  Heck, she is the one creating the things everyone else is pinning.

She is the mom who works full time from home while homeschooling her ten child prodigies.  Her genius children are also great athletes, always well behaved, polite, helpful and very popular.

She is the mom who sets the fashion trends and always looks fabulous in clothing she designed and sewed herself.  Some of the rest of us are still in pajamas and can't even find time to take a shower.  

Her impeccable house has been featured in magazines.  

She organizes events, does charity work, is in perfect shape and cooks her own delicious gourmet recipes using healthy ingredients she harvests straight from her own garden.

To top it all off she is even pretty too.  And you just can't dislike her because she is such a kind giving person.  All this and more.  She does it all effortlessly and is perfect in every way.

Don't we all feel like we know that mom?  We find ourselves asking, "how does she do it all?"

Ever been asked that question?

How do you do it all?

Believe it or not, I have.

I love color.

Bright, happy, color.

The brighter the better.

Which is why I choose bright colors for the walls in my house.

When we moved in all the walls were white except for the living room.  That was dark fake wood paneling.  That was the first to get painted.  I refused to even move in until it was painted.  I had always wanted a green living room and a blue dining room but my husband wasn't really excited about the idea of green.  So, we compromised with blue.

Later I painted the dining room green.  WINNING!

The kitchen will be yellow someday.  And for some odd reason I decided to paint the downstairs bathroom a beige color.  I don't really know what came over me but for now I actually like it.  The red shower curtain helps.

The kids room is Periwinkle and someday my room will be teal with red accents.

We have a small entry way space which I decided to paint a taupe color since it was right in the middle of everything.

Which left the hallway.  The hallway leading to the kids room, bathroom and master bedroom.

What color to paint it?

There is one special spot where I can stand in my dining room and see the dining room, living room, entry way, hallway and kids room all lined up.  I love to see the green, blue, and Periwinkle together and wanted to add another happy color to the mix.

The sweet spot.

But what color?

It keeps escaping me somehow.  Just out of reach.  I feel like I should have it, like I have almost grasped it.  Then suddenly I am reminded that it is just an illusion.  And I get so frustrated.

Angry with myself.

I should be able to do this.

After all, this is the way it was before.  I had two kids to care for.  I cleaned the house.  Cooked the meals.  Taught the lessons.  Laughed and played.  Kissed the owies away.

It should be normal.  It should just be the way it was.

But of course it isn't.  Because he is not with us.

And he should be with us.

No, really.  You should stop reading now.

You can't go back and unread once you have read.

Seriously?  Why are you still here?

I warned you.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Last chance...

Ok, then.  If this is how you want it.

Here we go.

Once, I was a new mom.

Are you sure you still want to be here?

Ok...

I was a new mom with a tiny little Peanut.

A sweet squirmy little guy.

Who NEVER STOPPED CRYING!

He had colic.

And

Here is where it get's gross.

Had the worst diaper explosions known to man.

All the time.

Little did I know that my son had a milk allergy.  And if I had only known I might have been able to eliminate dairy from my diet and save us both a lot of grief.  But I had no clue the colic and the explosions were not normal.

Not gross enough for you.

Just wait.

Or don't, cause it's really super gross.

On one of these occasions, he was about a year old at the time, I took off his diaper and ran him straight to the bathtub.

Got him all cleaned up and dressed.

Put him down for a nap.

Came back to clean up the mess on the changing table.

No diaper.

Where could the diaper possibly have gone?!

Oh, there it was.  In the next room.  In pieces.  Scattered all over the floor.

Only, it wasn't ALL there.

That's right.  The dog ate it.

Told you it was gross.  But it gets worse.

The dog ate the diaper.  The king of the disgusting diaper explosions.  Eaten by the dog.

Then he proceeded to...

Once upon a time I was pregnant.  We had our 20 week ultrasound.  We found out that our little one had Trisomy 13.  We were told he was not expected to live very long.

And then as if all that wasn't enough to deal with, my brother AND a dear friend of mine both started fundraisers for us.

FUNDRAISERS!

On top of that, my brother went and started spreading the word all over everywhere that we needed help.

The nerve!

Our initial reaction wasn't the best.

People started donating their hard earned money to us.  People who were probably living paycheck to paycheck just like us.  Friends, Family, total strangers, someone named anonymous just kept giving and giving.

To us.

Like we ever did anything to deserve that.  I mean there are people out there in the world who are starving to death but someone is donating us money.  We have a house, a car, food on the table, clothes, and more toys than my kids know what to do with but people are donating to us?

Once we calmed down a bit and accepted the fact that people were going to help us whether we wanted it or not, we began to recognize how much we did need it.

Those donations gave us one less thing to stress about as the medical bills started piling up.  We were able to focus on choosing the best possible care for Matthew rather than worrying we wouldn't be able to afford it.  One of my friends mentioned at the time, whenever you add an additional title to a doctor's name you add an additional dollar sign.  And we were seeing some long titles.

When the time came those donations paid for Matthew's funeral.  We had lots of help with the funeral costs. Family donated a plot to us in the cemetery where Matthew is buried surrounded by family.  The funeral home also waived any commission.

While I was in the hospital, my brother and dad took one look at our car, marched in and demanded our keys, and took it to get four new tires.  One of the tires had been patched the year before and we had bought a small air compressor that plugged into the cigarette lighter.  We were filling up that tire every day with air until we finally burned out the air compressor.  Then we went back to quarters at the gas station on the corner.  All the tires were bald, one had a nail in it and the one we were filling up every day, had a gash that looked like it came from a box cutter.  (It had been there when the tire was new but as it wore down it seemed to crack deeper.)  Getting new tires, or at least replacing the leaking one, was on our to do list in the month we thought we still had before Matthew's birth.  Then he came early.

On top of the financial help, we had so many people praying for us.  I believe in the power of prayer, but I can honestly say I never experienced it before in such a powerful way.

I realize I have not been the best at keeping up with the blog lately (or really ever.)  I blame my slow computer.  Five days now it has been trying to update Facebook (which is why all my Facebook followers have been missing out on all my witty banter and such) and it took almost two weeks to get this page open to write a new blog post then another two days to add links and a picture.  Yes, it's a bit slow at times.  It has also begun to make a strange noise from time to time...

So, last time I told you about my doctor's appointment of awesomeness.  It was so incredibly awesome that I felt a great weight lifted.

Which is why you might have been very surprised to see me the following morning, driving back home after dropping my husband off for work, having a bit of a mental breakdown.

Let's back up a couple of days.  The day before my amazing doctor's appointment of all amazing amazingness, two things happened.

First I was doing dishes.  (I know, I should really learn my lesson!)  And I made a huge watery mess on the floor.  My husband stepped in the puddle and commented on it.  I waved him off and told him I always made a mess doing dishes and it's just water so it will dry.  He brought in a towel and dried it up.  Then I stepped in the puddle that was leaking out of the towel.

Wait, what?

Yes, a giant puddle over and above the water that had now saturated a full size bath towel.  There is no way I made that much of a mess!  We pulled out the contents of under the sink cabinet.  They are currently still scattered across my kitchen counters and floor.  After some investigation we discovered that the garbage disposal is leaking.  Well you probably know by now how much we enjoy plumbing problems around here.  So we decided simply not to use that side of the sink.

During all this craziness the Princess came running in crying.  She was holding her mouth.  Correction, she was holding her tooth.

No one saw her injure herself and the best she can tell me is that it was the rocking chair.  What do you want to bet she wasn't just sitting properly in it?

Ya'll know how I love a good mouth injury!  (Yes, I spell it ya"ll and spell checker has no problem with it so it must be correct.)  So, I calmed her down and hubby washed her mouth out and got the bleeding to stop.  Yes, there is always blood isn't there?  We checked her tooth to see if the gum looked swollen or red and it looked ok.  But I was rather worried about it.  She has caps on her teeth (chalk teeth) and so we have to watch carefully because if she injures the tooth we might not be able to tell under the cap.  Yup, queen of mouth injuries and we have to take her into the dentist any time she injures a tooth.  This is amazingly only the second time in the year since she got the caps put on.  The first time was one week after she had the caps put on.

So, all that craziness happened and then the next day we pretty much put it all out of our minds because we had the doctor's appointment and at first we were all nervous and then we were all relieved and it was all emotional and stuff so I honestly didn't think about any of the other stuff all that day.

Then that night I remembered her tooth and took a look at it to see if there was any redness or swelling.  I didn't see any redness and maybe a tiny bit of swelling but it was hard to tell.  Still, it didn't look quite right...

It took me a minute and suddenly I realized one tooth looked lower than the other.  Now this might not be that big a deal except that I knew for a fact that the caps had been perfectly even.  I reached out and touched her tooth.

"A miracle is something that seems impossible but happens anyway." MIB3

Weeks ago, when we were freshly reeling from the difficult news we had received about our baby, we sat in Mass and listened to the Gospel.  It was about miracles.  We listened to stories about how Jesus had healed a woman and brought a little girl back to life.  I'll be honest.  At that moment it kind of felt like a bit of a slap in the face.

I am sure I felt a bit like some of the people in the crowd might have felt.  Pressing around Jesus.  Looking for miracles. Then one woman who touches the hem of His garment is healed.  Her faith healed her.  It makes me wonder if any of the people in the crowd asked the question.  "What about my miracle?  Why her?  I have faith too.  I wouldn't be here if I didn't believe.  Why not me too?"

It was a question I found myself asking.  "Where is my miracle?"

Because in that moment all I wanted was a miracle.  Not just any miracle of course.  My very own custom made to order miracle.  I wanted to be able to ask God for exactly what I wanted exactly the way I wanted it.

My vision is very short sighted.  I can't see the whole picture and because of that it is sometimes easy to forget that there is something beyond my field of vision.

It's all too easy to call out that challenge to God.  God you are all powerful.  I know you can do this.  So why don't you?

Sound familiar?

It's pretty much the same challenge the first thief called out to Jesus on the cross.  "Are you not the Christ?  Save yourself and us!" Luke 23:39

Of course the second thief had one simple request.  "Jesus remember me when you come in your kingly power." Luke 23:42  And we all know what Jesus responded to him.  He said, "get down off the cross.  Your faith has healed you."  Right?

No?

Now, before I embark on my little pity party I just want to express a few things.

First is that it is really hard for me to share at times like these.  Don't get me wrong.  I can complain with the best of them.  About all the little annoyances and inconveniences.  I don't like to clean.  I can't cook.  My kids keep making messes.  Wah!  But when something major happens?  I fold inward.  I cave.  Just hide away from the world until it all goes away.  I have a really hard time sharing the difficult times.  I feel bad calling out for everyone to feel sorry for poor little me.  Then I feel totally overwhelmed when everyone steps forward with offers of help or support.  How will I ever begin to repay them?

This time I am pushing myself out.  I know hiding away won't change anything.  I would have to say something eventually.  Unless I just quit blogging all together and I'm not really ready to do that.  It will only get harder the longer I wait.  And if I really am going to be open and honest then I need to be able to share the lows as well as the highs.

So I will start by sharing some of the highs.  That way you will know that there is some brightness in our world right now.  When I talk about my busy schedule, it's not all doctors appointments.

It's also...

Right now I feel like I am sitting at the top of a roller coaster just waiting for the bottom to drop out from under me.  I don't know exactly when it will happen but I know it will and all I can do is hang on for dear life.  I never liked roller coasters.

I am normally not a very organized person.  I know, don't be too shocked.  When it comes to schedules and appointments I am a mess.  Usually I rely on things like the Evite email or the phone call from the doctor's office to remind me I am supposed to be going somewhere tomorrow.  I have a calendar in the kitchen and have been steadily working on improving myself by remembering to make little appointment notes in it over the last year or so.  Still, I usually have between one and maybe four things written down on that calendar for an entire month.
The other day I looked at my calendar for this month and next and felt the panic start to seep in.  My schedule is so busy.  Usually I feel busy when I have those four thing months.  Now I have something at least every other day.  Every week I have a doctor appointment scheduled with a different specialist.  Tomorrow we have our first meeting with a fetal cardiologist.  Sprinkle in all the added summer activities like Vacation Bible School and play dates with friends and add a few other appointments like a dentist visit.  We decided against putting the Peanut in swim lessons this year because we just couldn't find the time to fit them in.

Now, let me tell you what is making me feel so overwhelmed.

Today I wait.  I wait for the results of a test.  I wait to hear the results that, to be honest, won't change anything.

The fact is that if the results come back positive we will have a name for what we face.  If the results are negative it doesn't really change anything.  It doesn't make the problems go away.

What I know now is that we are going to be challenged.  Our baby will have needs I can't even begin to imagine.

20 Weeks

When we went in for our 20 week ultrasound, I had a bad feeling.  It was June 13th.  I won't lie.  The date made me uneasy.  June.   My unlucky month .  The 13th.  That just couldn't be good.  

Waiting room before the ultrasound

The ultrasound technician was pretty quiet the whole time.  A few times she mentioned that the baby was moving around and making it hard to see things.

When we finished she told me, "the doctor will follow up with you with the results."

Those words kept playing over and over in my mind.  The doctor will follow up with me?  Why does the doctor need to follow up with me?

I tried to dismiss my fears.  Maybe she just always says that.  Maybe it didn't mean anything.  Maybe.

The next morning I got the call.

What I heard the doctor say was that the baby had a cracked rib and that the technician couldn't find a stomach.

What she had actually said was that the baby had a cleft lip and the technician couldn't find a stomach.

In tears, I ran frantically up the stairs to tell my husband I had to go in to a specialist right away for a more detailed ultrasound.  Thankfully he was working from home and we dropped off the kids with my sister-in-law and went straight to the doctor's office.

Then we sat and waited.  My husband spent our time looking things up on his phone.  At one point I picked mine up.  I couldn't take it anymore and I had to know.  He practically snapped at me.  "What are you doing?"  "What do you think?"  "Don't."  My stomach churned.  All I could think about was that cracked rib.  How could that happen?  Was there no stomach and the ribs were imploding?!

Finally we were called back for the ultrasound.

This technician was more vocal.  She described everything she was looking at.  All I could do was look for a stomach.  She kept focusing on the heart.  I figured she was really looking for the stomach but didn't want to freak us out so she was pretending to look at the heart.  Still, she kept measuring the heart.  I wanted to shout out, "THE STOMACH!  FIND THE STOMACH!!"  Finally she moved down a bit and I saw a little black spot.  Could that be it?  Casually she mentioned it as she continued on.  "There's the stomach and those are the kidneys."  We breathed a sigh of relief.  "Thank you God!  Everything's ok."

Then the doctor came in.

"You guys are here about a cleft lip."

"Cleft lip?"

He stopped and looked at us.  "What do you know?"

"Nothing really.  Something about a missing stomach."

"The stomach is fine."

Then he delivered the news that turned our world upside down.

The baby has a bilateral cleft lip.  It extends all the way up on both sides to the nose.  It's possible that there may be also a cleft palate but we can't see inside the mouth.

Ok.  Not the best news but that's fixable.  Certainly not as bad as the missing stomach we had been fearing.

But.

The baby also has some other "abnormalities."

I am terrible at planning things.  Truly terrible.

My husband is a planner.  He always needs to know what the plan is.  Whenever his sister and I take a trip to the mall to hang out and browse, he asks us our plan.  We always answer the same way.  We "plan" to hang out and browse.  It drives him crazy!

I should clarify something.  I am terrible at making active plans.  When I do plan something I usually leave some really important part out or go way overboard on tiny unimportant details.  It all falls apart.  Which is of course why I don't like to plan anything.  And I am lazy.

I am really good at making passive plans.  By that I mean that I simply expect things to go a certain way without any direction or interference from me.  It should just happen.  You know?

Drives my husband crazy!

Perfect example.

Tomorrow I will have my 20 week ultrasound.  Long before I even got pregnant, I came across the idea for a "gender reveal party" on Pinterest.  Complete with a cake revealing the gender when cut.  Genius!  It seemed so perfect.

The Peanut.
He is the king of fit pitchers.  When he really gets going he will screech louder than any horror movie victim.  He can go for hours and never tire.  When he was still a tiny lil guy he would sometimes fight bedtime so hard that he would still be screaming 4 hours after he was put in bed.  I would think, surely he will pass out from sheer exhaustion at any moment.  No.  Never.  It was enough to drive me over the edge.  I would literally have to force myself to stay away from him because I was seeing red and there was no telling what I might do.  Somehow we both lived to tell the tale.  He has outgrown his fits for the most part.  Sometimes we still see glimpses of the little Hulk but they are pretty rare now.  And they never last longer than about twenty minutes or so!

The Princess.
She tries to throw little tantrums sometimes.  Something upsets her and she drops down to the floor crying.  She always does the little, peer out to see if anyone is watching her, maneuver.  Unfortunately for her, her older brother ruined me.  When she lets out her tiny squeals, that normally last for all of two and a half minutes, I can't help myself.  I laugh.  I try not to let her see it.  But it's so darn funny.  Like that little display is going to budge me!  I have lived through WAY worse.  When I send her to her room to cry it out she is usually done before she makes it to the room.

All this has me wondering.

Me.
When I pitch my fits, does God see red?  Does He throw His hands up in exasperation that I never learn?  Or does He laugh at me?

I like to think he laughs at me.  After all, He is infinitely more patient that I could ever be.  And I sure do need that patience.

Hopefully, as I have gotten older and wiser, my fits are less like my son's and more like my daughter's.  Because, in all honesty, I know better.

When something doesn't go according to MY plans, I know that I should put my trust in Him.  He knows what's going on.  He has a better plan than mine ever could be.  Like I said, I KNOW all that.  I'm just not always happy about it.

Recently, when things didn't go according to my plans, I managed not to throw a monster fit.  I refrained from shaking my fists at the heavens.  I even admitted that God probably knew what he was doing.  Didn't mean I liked it.  Oh, I pouted.  I whined.  "This better be good!"  I sulkily warned Him.

My husband and I have been catching up on episodes of The Walking Dead.  We are frequent watchers of Zombie movies and other horror movies.  In fact, I swear the moment we fell in love was when we found out we both loved Evil Dead.

I never have nightmares after watching scary movies.  Well, with the one exception when I was 5.  But now for two nights in a row I have found myself having nightmares.

Not really about Zombies.  No, my nightmares have been about lost and/or injured children.  Because I'm a mom and if anything is going to scare the crud out of me, it's the thought of something hurting my children.

I have one "rule" when it comes to horror movies/shows/books.  Do whatever you want to everyone else but leave the pregnant women, babies and children alone.  In fact my husband has felt my wrath several times after convincing me to watch a movie (that he had previously viewed) in which my rule wasn't followed.  (I'm also not a fan of "revenge" movies.)

In fact, he convinced me to read the first Walking Dead comic book and I was pretty mad at him after I finished it.  I refused to read any more.

Despite myself, I have been sucked into the show.

Let's just say they keep toying with my emotions and keeping me on the edge of my seat.

Last night was the first night I didn't have the nightmares.  Probably because I was up half the night wrestling with an ethical dilemma.

Would it be right/ok to "kill" a Zombie?


Are Zombies people too?

Are Zombies already dead anyway so it doesn't matter if you shoot them?

I lost it today.

The Peanut was working on his school work.

The same school work he does every day.

But today.

Today.

He suddenly forgot how to write his letters.

All of them.

He just started making random shapes slightly resembling letters.

The x's are his.

Normally, this would be my cue to say, "let's take a break."  Because we both needed one.

Instead, I pushed on.

Because he was so close to finishing the book.

Just a few more pages and we could finish today!

So, we continued.

I continued to instruct.  "Stop at the dotted line and go down."  He went up.

And I snapped.

Usually I try to stay away from controversial topics.  Both in my blog and in my "real life" conversations.  I don't like to upset people.  I tend to be overly sensitive so I try not to say anything that might hurt someone else's feelings.  Until I feel really strongly about something.  Then I get on my soapbox.  I still try not to hurt any feelings but I just can't seem to swallow my disagreement.

Last year I avoided this topic because I know it will put me in the unpopular crowd.  This is a topic that seems to send people into a fury and I am vastly outnumbered.  I have been avoiding my blog because this has been weighing heavily on my mind and I know I can't write about anything else.

Finally here today I will break my silence.

First, though, a spoiler warning.  If you have any young children you might want to stop reading this out loud.  Turn your monitor.  Protect them from the horror I am about to reveal.

Are they gone yet?

Ok, consider yourself warned.

Here it goes.

I should be doing the dishes.  They have piled up again.  Instead I stare at the massive crusty pile and wish them away. But they stubbornly refuse to clean themselves.

I should be cleaning the living room.  It has been overrun with all the things that belong somewhere else but somehow creep back in when I'm not looking.  Then I turn around and am greeted with a scene from a horror movie.  I should be putting all the things back where they belong.  I should be scolding my children and making them put the things back where they belong.  But I lack the energy to follow them around pointing out each item and explaining in detail how and where it should be.  Instead I watch and listen to my children blissfully playing. Totally unaware of the chaos that surrounds them.

I should be writing a blog post.  Something insightful, or eventful, or charming, or witty.  Instead I stare at a blank screen as the words refuse to form themselves.  My head swirls with tiny snippets of thought that flee like butterflies from my net.

Hello everyone!!  I have missed you!

Have ya'll been wondering if a black hole spontaneously formed over my computer and sucked me away into oblivion?  Worry not.  I have returned.

Now, truly there is only one thing that could keep me off the internet/Facebook/Twitter/Google/Pinterest for two plus weeks.

That's right.

Time Warner Cable.

Oh, yes Time Warner.  I am giving you the stink eye.  You, meanie head, you.

Grrr.

Even as I type this I still have no house phone.

Grrrr.

Two weeks without internet, without phone, WITHOUT NETFLIX!!!

Then of course Time Warner got right on it and promised to send someone out last Wednesday morning.  Thursday afternoon when the guy showed up he scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders and promised to send someone else out on Saturday.  Yesterday when my husband called they said, "um it should work."  Yesterday when I called they said, "oh we fixed it but had to change the frequency so you have to reset your router."  When I asked how I do that they said, "oh you can't.  We do it."  Then they pressed their magic button and reset.  Now don't ask the obvious question.  If they knew they had changed the frequency and that would require a reset and they are the only ones who can reset and it only requires half a second and a magic button press . . . WHY DIDN'T THEY RESET IT ALREADY????!!!!  Why didn't they press their magic button when my husband called????

So, internet works.  Phone doesn't.  They scratched their heads and said "well, it should be working.  It tests and says it's working.  Must be a bad cord on your phone.  Oh, and on the other phone you tested.  And on that one too . . . all three must have gone bad at the exact same moment that the phone and internet went down.   Um, we will send someone out on Wednesday.  Make sure you answer the phone or we will cancel the appointment."

Then they threw a couple of credits at us.   Here's the thing though.  If I wanted credits and no phone . . . I WOULDN'T HAVE SIGNED UP FOR YOUR SERVICE!!!!!!!

Ok, sorry about the rant.  It feels good to get that off my chest!  I have been really refraining from going off on some poor phone rep, who really has no control, and just gets to be on the receiving end of my frustration.  I know.  I have done that job and it truly sucks.  Especially when you agree with the screaming customer but still have to recite the company policy.  Yeah.

Other fun things.  I have something exciting to show you but you will have to stay tuned.  It's exciting for me anyway.  ;)

Also, during my internet outage I was featured on the Mom Pledge.  Check it out!!!