Broken or Out of Order

It seems like things are breaking left and right around here. In just the last two weeks.

First the windshield on the van. Fixed.

The refrigerator was recalled as a fire hazard, broken in my book. Fixed.

Then the baking element on the oven, second fire hazard in a week. Fixed. The good news, we all know where the fire extinguishers live.

The kitchen faucet. Fixed.

The airport, so I can have internet and hence email, blogging and facebook. Fixed.

The coat closet door is rubbing on the floor. Still not fixed, no time to pop the door off the hinges and sand it down a smidge.

The fan on Ducky's laptop. Not fixed, but still functional.

Blue paint spills on carpet by very cute boy. Not fixed, but will most likely be replaced later this summer.

My head. Still not fixed, still mostly functional, still working on finding a fix.

I think we are good for broken stuff. It can stop now.

Stealing Electricity

It is Earth Day. My sweetE is running around upstairs when I hear him yell, "Mommy, we are stealing electricity!" I turn the corner to see him turning off the light switches.

We were wasting electricity. I am teaching him well.

Buddha Fish

This morning I was feeding the boys fishies. SweetE's fish always seems hungry, I think it goes with being a gold fish. That and his bowl is always dirty. SweetE was hanging out with me and he asked me about his fish.

"Is my fish a golden fish?"

"Yes"

"Is sweetP's fish a Buddha fish?"

"No, it's a Betta fish."

"Oh."

A few minutes later.

"I want a Buddha fish too."

I know he can say Betta, but he insisted on calling it a Buddha fish. As long as he doesn't try to rub its belly for luck we should be okay.

The Migraine Saga Continues

So I went to my two month follow up visit with the neurologist today. So two months would have been back in November, but life happened and thus it didn't happen until April. He called me on it. He obviously does not, nor has he ever had small children and a life.

I also have an inability to remember to take medication in the morning. No morning routine and constant interruptions from those small children. He called me on that too. Refer back to my thoughts on him and small children or children in general.

We reached these conclusions. The medicine I am currently taking to prevent migraines is not working. Obviously. Even though it has dropped my pulse by 14 beats per minute. I think that is a significant amount, he did not.

So, we decided on a new medicine. One that requires three visits to a lab to share my blood. Ugh. The medicine has plusses and minuses attached to it.

Minus: Previously mentioned blood draws, potential to increase chance of kidney stones, potential for cognitive issues (not permanent), possible tingly toes or fingers

Plus: May significantly reduce migraine (duh), may cause weight loss (yeah), may cause me to sleep better (always yeah)

So, I will be discussing the whole kidney stone issue in a few weeks when I am checked for any new stone formations, aka time bombs of pain.

I am well on my way to the land of the geriatric with the number of specialists I am collecting. Which would work out well since my primary switched to geriatrics and I loved her.

Where is My Dog?

Laying on the floor next to me is a dog that looks remarkably like Velcro. But, this dog is naughty. He did things that my Velcro has never done.

This dog ate two of the Easter eggs that were hidden by the Easter bunny for the boys. At least they were real eggs and not chocolate, so no vet visit was required. He did eat shells and all, ugh. Velcro would never eat the eggs even if they were on the floor. In the last 7 years Velcro has not eaten the eggs on the floor. So where is Velcro? Was he abducted by aliens? Or is this the new Velcro that feels like old age should have some privileges?

He is a spoiled dog, with his personal carpets up the stairs, automatic pet feeder, daily walks by sweetP and biscuits every day. So I hope this naughty behavior comes to a screeching halt. It is strange not knowing what to expect from him.

Update: This morning it appears that he may have peed on the floor. He has never once done that since we got him 11.5 years ago. I am going to assume that he just threw up water instead, that is less unnerving.

Because I Have Nothing Else to Do

I finally broke down and joined facebook. Because I don't waste enough time blogging, I thought I would challenge myself to more computer time challenges. But, I was feeling out of the loop and here we are. I managed to get married to Ducky again and confirmed my relationship.

Should be a hoot! See you in one cyber form or another. :)

Girl Envy/Grief

I have a serious case of girl envy.

Disclaimer: I adore my boys. I do not in any way wish they had been girls. They are who they are and I love them. I would not trade them for girls.

But everyone I know in the last two years who has had or will be having a baby is having a girl. Sure, friend of friends are having boys, but in my circle, all girls. And that is hard to take. Take a trip back in time with me.

Long ago, as a teenager, surviving a less than my ideal childhood I swore off ever having children. Until, I met an adorable little angel child who changed my mind. She was three or four, strawberry blond and the sweetest child I had ever known. She was easy and loving and never once did anything wrong. I am completely serious. I adored her and got to spend several afternoons a week taking care of her. I decided maybe children were in my future after all.

So I began to plan my children. I would have a daughter and she would be like my little angel child. Sweet and quiet and helpful. I got my grandmother's china tea set with matching little hutch. I would be ready for tea parties and dress up and crafts. I saved my practice wedding dress (sewn out of sheets before I made the real thing) to be a costume when she got older.

I knew my first would be a girl. By sheer wishful thinking, that baby would be a girl. I needed a girl. I needed a wonderful mother/daughter relationship to make up for the one that is still lacking. The ultrasound tech said boy. I didn't believe her, they make mistakes all the time. Nonetheless, I cried on the way home. After two more ultrasounds, both with a proclamation of "boy," before I gave in and accepted I was having a boy.

The day came and my precious sweetP was born and I was in love. I had a boy and that was okay because the next baby would be a girl. We knew there would be at least two babies. I adored my baby boy and decided boys weren't so bad. To this day, I sometimes get teary-eyed when I see him asleep all peaceful and quiet with hints of the little boy that he is quickly outgrowing.

So the time came when we decided it was time to have another baby. This pregnancy was different. Morning sickness. Carrying the baby lower. Deep longing for a girl. All sure signs that this would be my baby girl. The ultrasound tech said she, but then pronounced we were having a boy. This time even I saw that it was a boy. No second guessing. We would have boys. We talked about all the ways that it would be easier. I sobbed the entire way home. This time, there was no guaranteed next time. We were discussing being done at two. There would most likely never be a girl.

The next day after working the entire morning to pull myself together. I thought I was better. But on the way to school, I saw two little girls with pigtails skipping down the side walk in cute flowery dresses. While simultaneously, a song about little girls came on the radio and I lost it again.

I felt guilty. Here I had another healthy baby on the way and a coworker had tried unsuccessfully for years to get pregnant. But every time someone asked about what I was having, the tears flowed. Much, much later, when I was no longer a hormonal mess, I realized that I was not sad I was having a boy. I was grieving the death of a dream. Ever since the moment I first decided to have children, I had envisioned a little girl with pig-tails and dresses. A mommy's girl.

I had that second baby boy. I loved him upon sight, once I finally got my hands on him. They gave him to Ducky first and he barely let me get a glimpse. My sweetE is still my cuddly boy. He will let me just hug on him as much as I want. I couldn't ask for more. He is darling and sweet and wonderful (and all little boy) and I love him to pieces.

But part of me still feels like something is missing. Every time another little baby girl makes an appearance, I am just a little bit sad that there was no little baby girl for me.

Just One Question

Why is it that a child can have a napkin or Kleenex right in front of them and still use their clothes, or worse, your clothes as a napkin/ Kleenex?

I don't remember a clause in the parent contract that says, "You will become a walking Kleenex." I would be a wealthy woman if I was paid for every time I have said, "I am not your napkin/Kleenex."