Circle of Life

        "Oh no! Oh no!" I heard from Julius's mouth as we were pulling up to our house after church on Sunday. I looked up expecting to see our house on fire. Three weeks prior pulling down our street after church we saw our neighbors house on fire. That day I immediately called 911 and Julius ran out back and pulled a boy out of the burning building. By that I mean he went to the back of the house, beat on the door and made him get out. So I guess you could say there was no real physical contact but it makes for a better story. The lad's family was gone and he had no idea the front of his house was burning. When I think back to that day I am embarrassed thinking about the message I must have left on his dads voicemail with adrenaline pumping through me but trying not to scare him while telling him his house was on fire but that we had his son and help was on the way. After that day I decided to go get some type of training/certification for a help and rescue first responder type job. My dream was shot down by my better half as soon as it spewed out of my mouth. Semi-long story made short but you get the gist of it. This day though we drove up to see a massive hawk eating one of our beloved chickens. It was a gory scene. My 6 year old son and I started crying immediately.
   
      A few years ago we had chickens as well. All 10 at different times were slaughtered by raccoons. The first slaughtering massacre was the most frightening to me. Julius was out of town and I went down in the morning to feed them. It looked like the work of a psychopath. It was during my dark days of PPD and I was unstable and everything was a bigger deal than it really was, but I thought it was done by a human stalker who was trying to send me a message and would soon kill me. Maybe I had consumed too many Dexter and Criminal Minds episodes. Needless to say it wasn't, it was raccoons. We set up a raccoon trap. The only thing we ever caught was our neighbors cat. May he rest in peace. I'm kidding, it didn't kill him, just scared the crap out of him. And fur.

      I didn't really care about our poultry flock back then. Now though, I love our stupid birds. And actually they are quite smart. I think I like them because we have 3 kids who love them and they really feel like part of our family, like a beloved pet. They are actually excited to see me when I step outside. They run up to me like a loyal comrade, they all have different personalities , they perch on the window sill to check up on us inside, none of my food ever goes wasted because they'll eat it,  my boys will hang out with them for hours, they help teach my kids where their food comes from, the eggs yolks are orange from eating worms and bugs and things nature intended for them,  they'll follow the car as I drive away to wish me farewell and the list could go on. My oldest son one day told me not to tell his little sister because it would hurt her feelings but that he thought the chickens were cuter than her.

A doting Father to say the least.

So things are different this time you could say. Which brings me back to the scene of the murder. The four of us stayed in the car as Julius went to investigate. Slowly we all exited the car. The next question we all wanted answered was "Who was it?". When we found out it was Julius' chicken Eagle Bones Falcon Hawk, Jet stopped crying a little relieved it was his not his "little girl" as he calls her, Lucy. Our next mission was to find the others. We went and found 3 up in their coop scared out of their minds. What we didn't find was Lucy. Did she run away? Did she get carried off by a large predator? We had questions and no answers.

Where we lock our children when they misbehave. 

Joking, that would not be punishment for them.

We went in shifts searching the grounds for our lost chicken. For a while Jet stared out the window at the remains of our dear friend trying to hold back his tears but not always being successful. He came and sat next to me and cried and told me through tears and quivering lips that he wants that Hawk, who was now circling above waiting for clearance to come back down, to land so he could take a sword and stab in through the belly. "Trust me buddy, Daddy would shoot it with a cross bow if it were not illegal." Which really means if this scene didn't have to take place in the front yard in front of a potential passerby, this might happen. As our family was all gathered together in silence, I took the opportunity to pray aloud asking God to bring Lucy back to us if she was still alive. If you ask my husband he'll tell you that's one of the only things I am good at, stopping to ask God for guidance and direction on finding something, no matter how insignificant it may seem. This though, this was my son's little girl and we needed to find her.

The day we brought Lucy home

When all hope was almost lost and preparations were being made for the funeral ceremony and burial I wanted to take a walk outside to gather my thoughts for the eulogy. I felt a tug on my heart to leave our yard and go walking into a wooded area beyond the fence of my yard. I thought this was pointless as we had already looked everywhere. I left and looked where I thought I was being led to look. I found nothing, until that is I stepped back into my yard and found Lucy right at my feet. I thought at first I was hallucinating. For once, I wasn't. Lucy was reunited with her sisters and her "dad" and a bit of the days sorrow was replaced with joy.

 So I can't help but bring up some Scripture here. Luke 15:4-6 says "Which one of you, if he has a hundred sheep and loses one of them, would not leave the ninety nine in the open pasture and go look for the one that is lost until he finds it? Then when he has found it, he places it on his shoulders rejoicing. Returning home, he calls his friends and neighbors, telling them, 'Rejoice with me, because I have found my sheep that was lost'. I think maybe that's why I wrote this post. Not only because I had too much caffeine this morning and I had to put my excess energy to use, but also because I can't help but rejoice in our prodigal son/lost sheep  green egg laying Ameraucana chicken returning. It's a reminder to me of the celebration in heaven over one sinner who repents, keep reading in Luke 15.


We gathered round for the procession and laid that bird in the ground thanking her for the nourishment from her eggs, entertainment, company and sacrifice, that she died so that the other hens could have an escape route and live. She was named after a character on a horribly obnoxious children's show but how fitting that her name included "hawk", for one day that is what would take her out. I sang "Danny Boy" but changed the lyrics a bit to fit the scenario as the boys filled the hole she was laid in with dirt. It was a sweet time for our family and a chance to share with our kids that even though we may have sorrow, God in the end will always give us joy and hope. Lucy's return was the hope those kiddos needed that day and the wink I could feel from above. Also to let them know that death is real and that if they keep running around the house with marbles in their mouth they also may experience it soon.

       

Would this be a good time to promote our free range organic eggs for sale? Maybe not? You can at least sing the 'Circle of Life' lyrics as you are on your way, from your favorite 1994 animated movie as you scroll for a few last pics.

Eagle bones falcon hawk as a wee one

Welcoming the girls to their new home

                              

How the hen Benny is holding in the 2 above pics from hatch until now never got brain damage is beyond me. She has become the alpha and the most friendliest. She has chosen not to be a product of her circumstances

Chicken watching would help me could cook in peace

Hottie McHottie doing his thing

The night the hens moved into their permanent residence

The day their outside home addition was finished and they could finally live outdoors. 

The last documentation of our sacrificial hen, front row left. I've had to stop the boys many a time from lassoing them while free ranging

Jet holding Madea next to our metal rooster MacGyver

And now the aftermath of the event. Until the sting is over we are keeping them from roaming free for awhile. They are dying to roam the open land

Disclaimer: I haven't written in almost 2 years but for someone who doesn't like animals my last 2 posts have been about my pets. Forgive me. Now go in peace and may the force be with you now and always.

   

The Cats in the Cradle

I fondly dislike animals. Ok fine, I don't dislike them, I hate them. Ok kidding. I just don’t want to be responsible for them. And besides, there are way too many people who put animals before the sanctity of human life so I try and rage against the machine every now and again and act like I care nothing for them. However, whenever I would have a random cat in my yard, I'd gather up the children, make some popcorn and we'd watch it from the window like it was something we'd never seen before. So, with a pit in my stomach, I got myself a cat so I could put it outside and watch it in awe from the window.

My father informed me a few days before Christmas that there was a free cat in the lobby of his pet's vet. I took a drive, saw this gray 12 month old cat, felt no attachment and said I’d be back on Christmas Eve to pick it up. I thought the one good thing he had going for him was that he was an amputee. Someone had dropped him off at the vet with a damaged tail. Nothing that a little snippy snip of the tail couldn’t fix. He was tailless from henceforth. I thought at least he stood a better chance at my house with an almost 2 and 4 year old boy for there would be nothing for them to step on or pull.

Christmas Eve I drove to the vet. My kids were eating tortellini in brodo when I returned. For my non Italians, this is tortellini in broth. My recommendation for when you make this is to throw in a splash of red wine right before you top it with the parmesan cheese. You will be in peasant food heaven. So I brought the cat inside in a crate, covered it with some wrapping paper and had my offspring unwrap it. This is one time we didn’t need to be videotaping. They weren’t in tears full of gratefulness thanking us for this kind act. They were all, “Ok, that's pretty tricked out Mom, I’m gonna go finish eating now.” “But my dear boys, what shall we name him?” I lovingly questioned. My oldest responded with “Tortellini.” And while I was never uber fond of that, I suppose that's his name. 

The cat hid behind the washer and dryer almost the entire day. When he did come out, he had the worst gas you have ever inhaled. I mean the worst staunch I’ve ever experienced.  When he did make an appearance, you wished he was still hiding behind the washer and dryer. Anywhosies, every Christmas Eve night we go to my in-laws. When we got home that night we put the boys to bed and were about to cozy up to a classic when this cat had major diarrhea with the same staunch as the toots, all over my bedroom carpet and bed. As I was dry heaving and beyond pissed to clean it all up, the stench would not remove itself. Needless to say, we hated the cat and decided to return it to the vet the day after Christmas and were forced to sleep in the office that night.

Well the day after Christmas came and went. He never was returned to the vet. I'd like to say I was showing the cat grace but really both little boys had birthdays that week and our house was crazy full of out of town family and friends. We had 4 parties that week and that cat walked around acting like he had been living at our house for years. He wasn't pulling the skittish cat act that hides when strangers come around. My anger against the cat and its disgustingness started to diminish as I was starting to admire his confidence.

Weeks went by and my oldest who was now 4 was learning responsibility from this feline. He'd wake up every morning and feed the cat and against my wishes would clean the litter box with much gust. The 2 year old was constantly entertained by him and soon this stupid cat became a part of the family.

And you guessed right. My dream has come true. I started letting the cat outside. I can watch him from every window of the house being the crackest cat on the block. When you step outside he follows you wherever you go, sits by your side when you garden, accompanies you to the mailbox, runs laps with you around the yard. He fetches a ball, climbs trees, catches mice and is friends with the other hood animals. Strangers know him by name; other cats fear him, love him and equally respect him. Sometimes he jumps in the car when I am off to pick someone up at preschool just for the ride and to keep me company.

Don't get me wrong, this cat still annoys the living crap out of me. He is like another child except I can verbally abuse him. I realized I needed to tone down my harsh talking whenever the cat would start to muster out a meow and my 2 year old would cut him off and say “Shup cat”. My 4 year old would say “Get out of my face” to the cat who would be sitting minding his own business. I suppose they thought this what you say to the family pet for merely existing. While Tortellini is his name, he still hasn’t been called anything but “Cat.”

                                          

               Bad Cat

There was an episode of MacGyver where he took some kids camping in the wilderness. One escaped from the group and found himself face to face with a mountain lion. When Mac found the teen his advice was to not make eye contact with this wild cat or it would attack. I have tried this with my cat, no matter how much eye contact I make, it still won’t attack.

One afternoon I couldn’t find Jet, so I started calling out his name. I then heard him shouting from the bathroom, “I’m in here giving the cat a haircut.” I busted open the door expecting to find a pile of fur. What I found instead was an empty unused tampon applicator filled with cat food that he was trying to stuff in the cat’s mouth and feed him through like a syringe.

Anyway, at the end of every day, I am shocked that the cat returns home. Daily he gets laid on, French kissed, what tail he has gets pulled, trapped in upside down laundry baskets, dressed up, thrown in the creek, sprayed with the hose, and all done out of love from the wee ones. He usually is purring during the torment. The thing I don't get is that he doesn’t run when he sees them but actually approaches them. He will get in bed with them like he has no recollection of how terribly horrible they were that day. When I lay on the couch at night or sit at my desk I can rest assured that he will be on my lap and that I will lose feeling in my lower extremities. Julius has suggested making him a prosthetic tale. Who knows, maybe a movie will be made after him. I hope not, that would be terribly awful. Even more awful than me taking time to write about my pet cat.

 

 

 

 

Give thanks with a grateful heart

Yes, you are right again. The previous title was, "Give thanks with a grateful fart". My husband's look after sharing that with him had me changing it to something a little more mature, for fear of a roundhouse kick to the face.

Anywhosies, leading up to Thanksgiving Julius had to travel for 5 weeks in a row. This to say I was ready for a relaxing Thanksgiving of him not leaving  me and the kids, and as little chaos as possible. So I got my way and the 4 of us headed away to Blowing Rock for a cozy mountain getaway to a quaint mountain cabin tucked away from civilization.

We left Wednesday morning and our first stop as we arrived was Mast General for some nostalgia and candy.

  Side Note: We are anti sugar for the most part(It  helps grow the cancer. Folks i beg you do the research and save your life).Henceforth we limit what we give our children, but there are a thousand factors which make it  next to impossible for them to never have any.  Factor #934 Their biological parents take them to a candy store.Their Halloween candy was soon forgotten after trick-or-treating because it's hidden and the tyrant that i am makes them drink a glass of green juice before candy. "Carey that sounds like abuse to me!" Please settle down. My kids love and chug it. So really Halloween is a time of promoting health. I will put  the leftover candy in their stockings. When that is hidden and forgotten I'll put it in their Easter baskets. And so the vicious cycle continues. Now how is that for taking the fun out of things and saving a couple bucks?

If you are in the market, I use a Breville Juice Fountain and have been very pleased.

 

We then ate lunch at Macados where Jet was sobbing the whole time in desperate need of a nap. For dinner we went to Woodlands for some BBQ and live music. Something came over me and I needed the whiskey sour drink special. I had to chug it because my kids were reaching and fighting for the cherry in the bottom. I then felt strangely calm and happy. Then Jet grabbed the Tabasco with no lid. He playfully began swinging it all over the place. My shirt and  the bottom part of my hair was soaked with red sauce. I didn't let that kill my buzz. What killed my buzz was when I heard the little girl at the table behind me say, "Mommy you have something red all over your purse." My heart sunk as I half turned and noticed her Coach purse covered in Tabasco as well. I could have died. I started reaching for my purse to get out my check book while I made Julius initiate conversation with them. I then immediately turned around and started my apologies only to see that it had also gotten on her fur coat. But my, what grace they did display. I didn't get chewed out as I had braced myself for and I never did end up cutting her a check. The daughter said, " At least our shirts aren't completely covered like yours" so I said "Oh but child, my shirt cost about 1/19th of your mothers purse". Why I can't have the finer things in life Reason #426: In case open bottles with red liquid inside are in reach of a little boys hands.

 While driving to and fro our cabin, several times as soon as I would start to be frightened by the windy and steep mountain roads that I thought my husband should have been going a few miles slower on, I would almost start to pray aloud as Jet from the back seat having the same thoughts would intercede with "God, please make daddy not drive off the road."

We made a Thanksgiving meal. Twas joyous to have made the pumpkin pie and green beans from some of our preserved summer crops. Jet was ripping them left and right at dinner.

Whilst I dislike the hot stank mosquito infested humid summers, I  totally dig the harvest.

Earlier Thanksgiving day I was joking with Julius about how we should knock on the other houses around our mountain just to say "Happy Thanksgiving" then break out in Christmas carols to make things uncomfortable.(Side not again: When I was 12, a couple girls and I went Christmas caroling spur of the moment. I came home with a wad of cash. If you are short on cash this month and have kids, send them out singing. If you don't have kids, borrow someones). So we finished dinner with only a few bumps and bruises. I got a bite on the shoulder and a head butt in the gut. Spankings and time outs were served. Consequences must prevail. As I was putting dishes in the sink I look out the window above the sink into the dark night and see Christmas carolers right in front of my face. I screamed bloody murder and ran and hid behind Julius. I thought because we are in the middle of nowhere that these people are going to stop mid song and take out machine guns and shoot us. Julius went to check out the scene and said, "It's Emily and Todd". They are my cousins and live in the next town but they didn't know we were in town nor did a single one of our family members know our exact location . My first thought was, "They are going to freak out when they realize we are in town and happen to be staying here since they are randomly out caroling." Not so. Todd works for the Property Management company who we were renting our house from and saw Julius' name on the rental agreement and was all, "That's my cousin". So they came to surprise us and grace us with their presence and bear us a gift basket. They have a CD out that we all love and Jet knows all the words so we got our very own concert. At one point amidst the music you could faintly hear in the background a child screaming, "CAN SOMEBODY WIPE MY BUTT!". At least his toots were not done in vain at the dinner table.

They are called 'Battle Victorious' and if you want crack for your ears, check them out on itunes. They are ah-mah-zing. 

 If I had to end with one word of advice... it would be if you are Christmas caroling stay away from my house. I may run and grab a gun out of fear. But seriously, I am so undeserving of every good thing in my life. I am shown grace more than I can handle at times. For that I am grateful, so as always, a song from my childhood.                                                                                                          

GIVE THANKS
WITH A GRATEFUL HEART
GIVE THANKS
TO THE HOLY ONE
GIVE THANKS
FOR HE'S GIVEN
JESUS CHRIST, HIS SON
AND NOW LET THE WEAK SAY
I AM STRONG
LET THE POOR SAY
I AM RICH
BECAUSE OF WHAT
THE LORD HAS DONE
FOR US

 

This post was brought to you today from the NRA and the film Fat, Sick and nearly dead. God bless.

Life is Like a Box of Chocolates...

You never know what the beep your son will say.

That son is Jet. I know people love their own children. I know people rant and rave about their children(gag). Oh I'm sorry did I say that out loud? But because I blog a total of never, I am going to write a couple of things from the past couple of weeks that Jet has said, in hopes of not gagging anyone in the process. Because really I do love my children, and they do crack me up.

Some nights it is a long process for 3 yr. old Jet to go to bed. He'll come out of his room several times after we have discussed the day, prayed, read books, sang songs and so forth. "I'm hungry." "I'm thirsty." "I need to pee." "So mom, I want to see if you're doin good" "I want to give you 5 hugs but don't count." These are all amongst the usual excuses of why he is out. Before you think I am a lax parent, rest assured that there are consequences for this naughty behavior. However, some things are too funny to get mad at. For instance our most recent fact we learned from him when he should have been in bed, "Hey dad, poop smells bad but dead squirrel smells worse." Thank you son, I will remember that for when I'm a contestant on Jeopardy next month.
- "Scents for $500 Alex"
-"This smells worse than poop."
 "What is dead squirrel?."
-"You are correct and now take control of the board."

Some days I wake up in the morning to Jet standing on the side of my bed staring at me. He waits for me to open my eyes and immediately tells me something interesting like, "Mitt Romney" and then will walk away. Last week it was "Denise is your friend." This is funny because the end of September he saw this picture below and wasn't familiar with Denise so he made it a point to remember her name that day. Multiple times that day he wanted to look at the picture and tell me her name. He hadn't spoken of her since that day but I guess wanted to remind me that morning what otherwise I would have forgotten.

"Yes Jet. She is my friend. Now go make me an espresso and some focaccia"

While I was cooking i felt a presence staring at me so I turned around. It was Jet. He said, "Obamaphone" and then left the kitchen.

Jet has been reciting Deuteronomy 6:5 for probably a year now. But recently, every time he hears Mitt Romney he says, "Mitt Romney 6:5" and I have been thinking to myself, "Ok, maybe he has learned some facts about our presidential nominee and maybe Mitney has a stature of 6ft 5in. He said it again last night in the car but Julius was there this time. He busted out laughing. I said, "What did you teach him Mitts height or something?" He said, "No, he thinks he is saying a verse." So I said, "Jet say the whole thing." And he is like "Mitt Romney 6:5- You shall love the Lord your God, with all your heart with all your soul and with all your strength. Mitt Romney 6:5". Such confidence for being so wrong.

Eating dinner Jet threw his arm around his daddy and said, "Dad we're best buds. Mom take our picture." So after I demanded some manners, I did.

Monday my dad and I both needed to go to Costco so we decided to go together. As soon as he walked in Jet said, "Nonno, only the doctor can touch your penis. If it hurts, the doctor can make it better." This kid is a slew of information.

Forever grateful for Costco's large carts and samples.

 

And forever grateful for my children. They truly are a precious gift. Jet is a non- stop singer like his mother so it only fits that I end with the song that has been on his lips all day today. We had a praise session in our kitchen this morning while listening to this song. Him standing on the counter with his hands raised high and me crying over the sink overwhelmed with God's love and grace and abundant blessings. "Mommy are you crying cus you are happy or sad?"

So happy sweet child of mine. So happy.

 

"10,000 Reasons (Bless The Lord)"

Bless the Lord, O my soul
O my soul
Worship His holy name
Sing like never before
O my soul
I'll worship Your holy name

The sun comes up, it's a new day dawning
It's time to sing Your song again
Whatever may pass, and whatever lies before me
Let me be singing when the evening comes


Bless the Lord, O my soul
O my soul
Worship His holy name
Sing like never before
O my soul
I'll worship Your holy name

You're rich in love, and You're slow to anger
Your name is great, and Your heart is kind
For all Your goodness I will keep on singing
Ten thousand reasons for my heart to find


Bless the Lord, O my soul
O my soul
Worship His holy name
Sing like never before
O my soul
I'll worship Your holy name

And on that day when my strength is failing
The end draws near and my time has come
Still my soul will sing Your praise unending
Ten thousand years and then forevermore


Bless the Lord, O my soul
O my soul
Worship His holy name
Sing like never before
O my soul
I'll worship Your holy name

Jesus, I'll worship Your holy name
Lord, I'll worship Your holy name

Sing like never before
O my soul
I'll worship Your holy name
Jesus, I'll worship Your holy name
I'll worship Your holy name

Hungry Ronnie

(I just found this post I had written back in January. I think i didn't publish it because I got on my self's nerves while reading it)

Nine years ago I spent 3 months in Costa Rica. Nine years ago while in Costa Rica I started dating Julius who would become my husband and baby daddy. More importantly, nine years ago in Costa Rica while dating Julius, I met someone who will have forever changed my life. His name was Ronnie, Hungry Ronnie. His occurrences were like something from an obnoxious sitcom. Before his story unfolds, a picture of us during this chapter in our lives.

My 20th birthday, February 14, 2003 and the night I started having a crush on this young boy.

Superbowl Sunday 2003 was spent at News Cafe' in San Jose, CR. There were five of us, 19 and 20 stupid yr. olds who would take advantage of the drinking age being only 18. We threw many a  Rock Ice and Imperial's back, didn't watch a second of the game and got asked to leave for loud, annoying behavior. Stupid Americans. While stumbling out of there, we heard five words that would ring in my ears and be on my tongue everyday for the next 9 years. "Hey, you guys speak English?"asked in a high pitch friendly male voice. Alas, another English speaker. In our tipsy stupor we attacked this man with conversation and affection. We talked to him on the streets for what seemed like hours, exchanging stories of the days of old and hearing of his life and how and needed money for food and was wondering if we could spot him some Colones. Some? How about we give you enough to pay your food and rent for a month? While hugging and kissing him good-bye, the only thing he could have been thinking was "Stupid Americans at their finest" as he walked away with a huge wad of Colones.

For the next few days, Hungry Ronnie came up in conversation a good amount. Mainly because we couldn't believe how much money we gave him, but also because yeah, we liked the the guy. About 4 days later we saw him on the streets up ahead leaving a restaurant accompanied by an American. By the looks of it, this American had just bought him a bag of food . We were so excited, "Hey Ronnie!" we screamed, waving frantically to get his attention so we could talk to him and catch up and shoot the breeze. He gave us a strange look and then picked up the pace and dissed us. "Freaking ouch dude" we said, "did our new friend just shun us?".

A few days later at night, Julius was walking my friend Sarah and I to our bus stop so we could go back to where we were staying in Cariari. While walking down an alleyway we heard from afar in a male friendly high pitch voice, "Hey! You guys speak English?" We quickly turned around. "Ronnie!", the three of us exclaimed. He said, "You guys know me?" and was gone in a flash. Quite astonishing how quickly he disappeared. And then it finally clicked. We were the stupid Americans yet again. His strange look from a few days before was that of  an "oh shoot i figured you guys were just tourists  and I would never see you again so I would scam you for all you got. I then was shocked to see you again while I was in the process of conning another".

We didn't stay around San Jose but traveled around the country and then went to live at the beach in Jaco. Over the next couple months, Ronnie became a legend, a legend we were happy to mock. On a daily basis i would preform Hungry Ronnie in my high pitch friendly male voice "Dya guys speak English? The name's Ronnie, Hungry Ronnie, haven't eaten in days" We did not expect to see Ronnie again.

At the end of three months when it was time to go back to the US of A, we went back to San Jose for the 2 last days. While walking down a crowded street through the city , I felt a presence. An all too familiar presence. Before I knew it, I heard something in my ear "This may be a long shot, but do you guys speak English?". As we turned around we said "Ronnie? Really?" and he then walked in the opposite direction. That made my absolute day. I could not have asked for anything more, Oh wait, I could. That day we saw Ronnie scamming a lot of Americans throughout the city. He changed shirts several times. It was like he knew we were leaving and wanted to give us his performance of a lifetime. Julius was able to grab his video camera and catch him in the act. He went up to Ronnie and said, "Hey Ronnie, yes we still speak English". His response was, "Hey get that camera out of my face man, that's scandolous". Knowing that if I ever want to see this historical figure, all I have to do it watch the video, my life is complete. I leave you with one question, and one question only. Have you seen Ronnie?

Disclaimer: My wish for Ronnie in 2012 is that he is full. I hope by now he is working a real job, has a wife, 2 kids and a big house. I do not wish any man hungry.

My favorite song from the 8th grade.
A little Chris Cornell and Pearly Jammy Jam.
I will always think of Ronald when I hear it.

       HUNGER STRIKE

...But I'm going hungry, yeah...
I'm goin' hungry, yeah...
But I'm I'm goin' hungry.

Yeah, I don't mind stealin' bread...ooooooo......
I don't mind...
I don't mind stealin' bread...yeah.....
I'm goin' hungry, yeah....

Bathroom Talk

Benjamin is a force to reckon with. We used to call him "The Perfect One". Now we just call him "Benny, Noooooooooooooo!!!"  We often ask ourselves how he is still alive. I know kids put things in their mouths, but really,  he finds everything lethal and microscopic even after I vacuum and sweep. I am constantly pulling coins, cap gun bullets, old food from gosh knows when, and nails and screws out of his mouth. I have also had to pull several glass shards out and was able to accomplish without drawing blood. The brightly colored objects found in his diapers are also fascinating to me. "Where was I when he swallowed that? And how the heck did he not choke?", are reoccurring thoughts. Inside our home this kid follows me around and doesn't give me a second to myself. So in case you were thinking, "Maybe he ate something when you were going to the bathroom", the answer is false, because when I am sitting on the pot, he is either sticking objects in the toilet in the space between the back of the seat and my glutes, or he is on the other side of the bathroom door, face planted and screaming hysterically at the top of his lungs like he is never going to see me again. Heaven forbid I shut the door on him. When I come out he immediately stops. I say "Let's go outside" and he books it to the door, and as long as he is outdoors, could care less if he ever saw me again.

He had an obsession with playing in the toilet a few months ago. We tried to always keep the lids down but then his chubby arms and fingers learned to lift it.  So maybe this is TMI but in the middle of the night when we get up to pee we don't flush the toilet for many a reason. One morning I was in my room getting dressed and I saw Benj hobble his fat butt into my bathroom. I thought I'd have a second to put on my shirt when I heard Jet screaming for me. Benj had grabbed a handful of toilet paper out of the toilet completely saturated with a night's worth of urination and was going to town sucking out the liquid like he does the water in his washcloth during his baths. I started screaming and swearing. I'd be lying if I told you that was the only time that happened. Fortunately no negative results occurred. Just a stronger immune system I suppose.

So I was giving the boys a bath the other night and I got Benjamin out first. Well, he got himself out first, like he always does. Once again, I am surprised that all his teeth are still in tact. I got him all ready for bed and then set him free and went to get Jet's pj's. Now before you gasp and cast judgement thinking I'm an irresponsible mother and left my 3 year old in the bath by himself, I always make him sing a song so I can hear him if I need to leave the room for a second. I ran down the hall and quickly came back to find  Benjamin back in the bathtub.

He can't be confined or sit still. He has not watched more than 2 minutes of TV in his life, which is a good thing I guess, but gives me no break during his waking hours. I guess there is too much out there that needs to be destroyed or eaten. He can maneuver out of most high chairs and shopping carts. I was at Target in the parking lot and Benny was strapped into the shopping cart. I turned around to grab something out of the back seat of my car, in 2 seconds he was standing balancing onto the small seat about to plummet to his death on the asphalt.

Every few days when Julius is near me and I've been on the phone, when I hang up I say to him, "That was the Sheriff's department again, they have Benny in custody. Whose turn is it to pick him up from the station?". We joke now because he is 16 months. When he is 16, we will not be joking. Maybe he will get in fights because he has anger issues because the kids at school make fun of him for drinking pee when he was younger. Whatever, he is a fighter and a beast. A beast I wouldn't mess with.

Lord willing, I will have a couple more children. If more turn out like Benjamin, then bring it on. Jet has been asking me for a baby sister. He wants to name her Nanabelle. Also he has been talking about his girlfriend from church for a couple months now but never remembers her name when we ask him. Leaving the church parking lot today he said, "I saw my girlfriend at church today and her name is Hazel." I almost cried because I thought that was so sweet. I pictured a cute little vintage dressed 3 year old girl who captured my son's affections. Then I asked him was she looked like. He said, "Poop". Thank you Jet. That made my Mother's Day, a Happy Mother's Day.

                                         "Benny, Benny, Benny can't you see?
                                          Sometimes your words just hypnotize me
                                          And I just love your flashy ways
                                          I guess that's why they broke and your so paid"

He is Alive.

He is Alive indeed. Go in Peace.

Just had  a phone convo with one of my besties Jennifer,  or (read in Forrest Gump's voice) Jenny, as I call her. I had mentioned how I almost stabbed my husband on Easter when we got in a big fight in the kitchen while I was trying to whip together a marinade, and she was all, "Uh I know, I was looking on FB at all these pictures with people and kids who were put together with smiles in their Easter clothes, and we were fighting with each other with a puking kid on the side." And I said, " Gurrrrrl, thank you, we are reality" We are the Real Housewives of Charlotte. Please Tune in Wednesday nights at 9pm. Only by Bravo. You won't be jealous.

Jenny in the middle

But really talking of the fruit of the spirit, Self Control, I never thought I would need it so much in my marriage. Especially when stopping myself from throwing jabs. Maybe because I have an older brother I grew up with who I would physically fight with when I got angry or annoyed at, that that reaction is rooted down in my system. When I get mad at my husband many a time I start to scream "Giovanni!", my brother's name. My next reaction is to cock back my fist and jack him in the kisser (I have never used that word, but i think i like it). I stop myself after he flinches because that would be so disrespectful and a total disaster if I followed through, so I usually just count, pray, slam things, swear until I calm down. I am usually called "Crazy" which gets a similar response to, "You think that's crazy? Puh-lease! I will show you crazy!" Having said this jargon, I am just claiming that nothing is ever as it should be and we need constant sanctification is every aspect of our lives. Fortunately our fights our nothing too serious these days. Easter's fight was over if he was going to eat the organic oatmeal or the gluten free oatmeal and he couldn't find either of them though they were clearly, and I mean clearly in plain sight.

OK I should just go with this nonsense. I am doing more harm than good. So next fight maybe I will just walk to get out some steam. 500 miles perhaps. Real quick though, that can't always be good. Our first year of marriage we got in a big fight in the Y parking lot and Julius walked the journey home at night and twisted his ankle in a ditch. And now the Proclaimers...

 But I would walk 500 miles
And I would walk 500 more
Just to be that man who walk a thousand miles to fall down at your door

(And yes, he fell down when he got to the door because the ankle couldn't take any more pressure)