My Halls Aren't Decked, But Apparently the Bathroom Is Covered

Precious words from my 4 year old:


"Daddy! I made a candy-cane in the toilet!"

Gingerbread Playdough

Per request of Sebi's teacher last week, I have made 3 batches of the stuff. Ya'll, it makes itself. Really. Try it.

• 1 cup flour
• 1/2 cup salt
• 2 tsp. cream of tartar
• 1 cup water
• 1 tsp. vegetable oil
• cinnamon, allspice, ginger, nutmeg, whatever (this gives it a brown color and makes it smell good)

Directions:

Mix the dry ingredients. Play with the spices until you get the scent you want and the color. (I used about 1 tsp of each). Mix the water and oil together first, then add them to the dry ingredients and stir. In a pot, cook the mixture for two or three minutes, stirring frequently. The dough will start to pull away from the sides of the pan and clump together. Take the dough out of the pan and knead it until it becomes soft and smooth. Allow the playdough to cool and store in an air tight container.

Thank you to Mrs. Sham, a kindergarten teacher in Kissimmee, Florida for sharing her recipe.

O.k., now let me just say where I made my pitfalls.

• You gotta mix the wet and dry ingredients BEFORE you start adding the heat. Just make sure they are very well blending before cranking on the stove.
• I cooked over low/medium-low heat so it took longer than 2-3 minutes.
• If it looks wet, it ain't ready. But if you remove it from the pot and find it to be very sticky, that may also be another indicator.
• It really should end up looking just like dough.
• If you take it out prematurely and find it to be sticky, just put it back in and cook it some more- it isn't ready for the trash.
• Read the directions before you start, because as I was typing the directions just now, I high-tailed it to the kitchen because I didn't let it cool before storing it. I have no idea what effect that will have on the playdough. I'll let you know.
• OH, last thing. Don't try it. Again, read the directions. It's got 1/2 cup of salt. And it tastes really bad. Smells good, though.

Play Date: Parent Included

Last night, Sebi was snuggling up with me in bed. I had just reached that mid-wake/mid-sleep phase where you're about off to dreamland when somehow I got snookered into promising him that he could stay home from school and we would go to ChuckECheese the next day.

I also had promised to work that day from 7a-3p. When I called in for my shift assignment at 5:00am, I was told, "Surprisingly, we don't have a shift for you today" Praise God. Needless to say, I went straight back to bed. By morning, I had lists of things running through my head that I needed to get done today.

And then I turned over and looked at Sebi. He was smiling this big goofy smile and staring at me bright-eyed in anticipation. That kid doesn't skip a beat. He remembered. So we discussed going to school and then visiting ChuckECheese as promised right after school. I was aiming for a win-win where I could get some things done and he could get his mouse fix.

No deal.

We took Homer and Gabriel to school all the while I kept reminding Sebi that we could go to ChuckECheese AFTER school, and then he wouldn't miss out on seeing all his friends.

No deal.

Back home to "snuggle some with Mommy in bed". It was cold outside and I don't do cold.

No deal.

He was ready for ChuckECheese. I had to explain that we needed to wait until lunchtime, and he took it with mild reservations- probably because I got too extensive in the circadian rhythms of mice and how they don't start their days until lunchtime. When in a rut, throw a lot of information at them. It stuns them into acceptance.

Finally, by 10:00 he had lost all patience and was almost at the breaking point which I like to call the grand mal toddler fit. So, I convinced him to make a trip to WalMart to pick up my contacts (shout out to the vision center for getting my contacts in so quick), and then we would go to ChuckECheese.

We made it there by 11:00 and thank goodness they were open. In fact, I was surprised that they actually open at 9:00. So much for my theory on the circadian rhythm of mice...

We spent two hours there! We had a blast. The place was practically empty and it was not the experience I have had at ChuckECheese in the past with mass quantities of energy balls bouncing off of one another. It was AWESOME. Sebi and I were a team. He picked every game that was a two seater so that I could play with him. We tore up some giant spiders let me tell you. I don't know who had more fun with that game. We shot baskets. Sebi blew me away. We air hockey'd. Sebi told me to quit putting my blocky-thingy in front of the goal because he needed to win. Is he still young enough for me to let him win and then talk trash? Because He mentioned to Sebastian that he scored a lot and mommy didn't AT ALL!

He's going down next time.

Oh, and we were accumulating some tickets all the while. And then I saw it. In the back corner tucked away- I saw the only pinball machine in the joint. I made a beeline. Not that I was fighting off any competition or like the 7 and under crowd could take me if I needed to.

I like pinball.

I was playing and Sebi was getting frustrated and here is where I went down the- this was about me and not about my 4 year old having fun, avenue. BUT. When I finished my game, out sput a ticket that said I had just earned 150 Free Tickets! My first thought was that I needed to keep hitting up this pinball machine. We were going home with the BIG prize today. And then I remembered that this wasn't about me playing pinball and Sebi standing around too short to see what was going on. I know, I was weak. How was I to know that I was going to rock the pinball world?

We moved on. He was especially happy when I told him how many tickets I had just won us. Only he didn't believe me because he was all, "where are they?" And I was all, "this ticket says so" and he was all, "but I want to see them".

And that's when he convinced me to buy 40 more tokens. I am weak.

It was a really good day. I imagine that things are going to get easier when the babies get older because today was just so effortless. That, or we're going to be going to ChuckECheese on three separate occasions for individual treats for the boys. Either way, I had a GREAT day. And I 'm pretty certain that Sebi did too.

Sweet As Molasses, Yet Rotten To The Core

I had big plans to spend my day trying to return to "normalcy" and realized quite quickly that I was already there. Obviously, I spent my 1st hour of the day looking for my keys. uggghhh. When will I learn?

stop with your suggestions of the convenient key hook by the door. I have one. At BOTH doors. The problem lays in why I choose not to use them. I have psych next semester. I'll be especially tuned in to myself ;0

But back to my attempt to return to normalcy. Crazy, busy is my normalcy. My poor Gabriel inherited my inability-to-stop gene. Seriously. It exists.

So, I spent some time in the doldrums of the minivan (a.k.a. the back that I don't like to venture to).



give me a moment.



because it was bad.



Who knew that they had gotten a container of syrup from burger king, opened it and layed it smack on the floor??? who knew? And mark my words, I am hot on the trail towards finding out which one of my three, precious, cleptos STOLE a blue stuffed animal and from WHERE!??

**holla if you're missing a blue stuffed animal. I'd post a pic, but again. USB issues.**

**oh, and p.s. it has syrup all over it. Sorry.**

I took my final exam today. I passed. That needs to be said- simply due to the fact that I spent the WHOLE second half of the semester telling my friends that I was freaking out and I didn't think I was going to pass. Seriously. Every test. Same story.



"ya'll. I'm FREAKING out. I don't think I'm going to pass."



"Becky, you're going to be fine."



No. Because, I'm FREAKING out!."



take exam. 83. Next exam. 83. Next exam 83. I was riding a streak. Oh, but just so you know, on the final exam I busted out with an 88. Because, I'm hardcore like that.



Which leads me to reflect on my first semester in nursing school. I can't begin to tell you how much the benefits outweighed the stress. The friendships I have developed will stay with me for my lifetime. And they are what helped me get through each and every day.



That, and we coined all sorts of phrases this semester- just like Grey's Anatomy. Only we weren't all "seriously".



No. We were "hardcore" and "freaking out" and when we were really certain about something, we were, "fo' sho". I'm enjoying reminiscing the semester with all of our catch phrases. And I especially smile in remembrance of the times that we discussed losing weight over lunch that we ordered.



"we're gonna be skinny." "ya, we are."



"Do ya'll want to get a pizza while we study?"



"fo' sho"



O.k., so it didn't go down like that. But it was good times. We gave great business to Tex-presso. It's a nice little coffee shop off of Anderson Lane. We are even considered "regulars" there. It's our Cheers- only caffeinated and non-alcoholic. They know us.



And really, if they continue to put up with us, (I've done the math) they'll make out like bandits off of our time in nursing school. Only, after I did the math, I no longer order the ever-so-popular Texpresso. I settle for the $2.00 cup of coffee. I was also known to sneak in a Starbucks one time. I had to walk very slowly and evenly so it wouldn't spill in my backpack. Luckily, my friends know me too well and asked if I had started jogging again because of my odd and awkward gait. They thought I was sore.



I should have asked if I looked skinny.



On to other news...

The kids are getting huge. And they are eating me out of the house. I would post pictures, but I'm having USB issues and I don't have the patience to take my camera somewhere, get the photos on a CD and load it on the computer. I know, I'm all drama. But, if it can't be resolved, I will do the aforementioned only because they are so darn cute and deserve to be looked at.

Gabriel is still go, go, go. Only now he punches and kicks and throws things. It's like lightning speed coming at you. You need cover.

Homer is STILL obsessed with mama. He needs to be touching mama. All.the.time. All the time. It's heartwarming some days. And others, it drives me nuts. I walk in the door and he lifts his hands to me to be picked up. I know I should cherish these moments, but agggghhhh. I've had babies attached to my hip for 4 years now! I love you, Pudge.

Sebi is my pride and joy. He has made leaps and bounds in school. He was having issues with writing his name. But really, In my motherly defense. Isn't it a little more intimidating to have to learn to write, S-e-b-a-s-t-i-a-n versus John? I'm only saying...

All-in-all, things are good. We had a bout of Gianatti Crosti Syndrome with Homer, followed by pneumonia with Gabriel, followed by the flu with me. But we are all alive and kicking.

Gabi kicks more.

Thanks to all who have kept me in their prayers. I don't see that I could have done any of this without our higher power. I miss you all. I promise, I will be reading blogs religiously now. Once I finish the Twilight series. I started them just before my last exam. Big mistake?

NO WAY!

Today, We Killed Our Patient.

Notice how I am not taking full responsibility for this one. I said WE. Me and a team of 9 other monkeys. Although, some of us may shoulder more of the blame. (That one, I said US).

Don't worry guys. It was a mannequin. But we "killed" it none the less.

I won't go into details of how we crushed a timed released morphine sulfate and gave the dose via a nasogastric tube and then the patient's heart rate dropped and dropped and dropped. Because we learned something today.

I WILL NEVER, EVER, EVER CRUSH MS CONTIN. E-V-E-R. And I will ALWAYS (and forever amen) check the list of drugs that cannot be crushed.

that's all.

Michelle

Oh, y'all don't know who Michelle is.

I didn't know who Michelle was at this time last year. I met her in my nursing skills class in the spring of 08. She seemed to know what she was doing and she always had a huge stack of papers that freaked me out. HUGE STACK.

So, I thought, "this girl knows what she's doing". Big understatement. She knows what she's doing and she's thorough. She thinks she's in med school. Seriously. I'll send her the memo right before we graduate. Just so she knows to take the NCLEX and not the MCAT.

I'm just saying.

But all kidding aside. I developed a really great friendship with her. Infact, I don't think that I can make it through nursing school without her. I have someone to lean on. I have someone to honestly say, "I don't know what the heck I'm doing" to. And I have someone that makes me smile, laugh, and look forward to spending my time with. She's a wonderful, wonderful friend.

But, her stacks of paper still freak me out. She is a disorganized mess.

I said it. ;)

It's No-Mo-Blo-Po-Mo Again

I am not making any promises. But in the spirit of remembrance for fun times had in the past, I might just hop on the bandwagon.

might. There are no capitals or punctuation marks following that word. N.O.N.E. I'm just saying.

And I'm already cheating because this isn't really a real post. I am going to go and snuggle my dog and read a book. The dog has a stomach bug (apparently) as evidenced by three piles of throw up found on my bedroom floor. One of which I stepped in.

Yes. It went up, through, and between the toes. Sad to say, bad to read, but really y'all. Who was the victim here?

And The Windows Of Heaven Will Open Up And Pour Down Some Dog Food.

Whew.

Today I had my 3rd exam. Friday I have my final.

Yes. I just said that on Friday, I have my final exam. They split up the classes into 8 week sessions- and this just happens to be week 8. Or hell week. as I would have called it if 2nd year students had made me run naked on a slip-and-slide doused in olive oil.

not that that ever happened.

My computer hates me. HATES me. The flitting in and out of conscientiousness has progressed to periods of heels in the sand where it just wants to sleep. or die. I'm lucky to get it up and running, and then I swear the tower gives this big *sigh* and then shuts itself down. My computer is a drama-queen. Go figure, but that's too many cooks in my kitchen.

Besides that, I really can't complain about life. When there is a need, it's met. Seriously. Let me give a really fine example that took place this weekend. My parents were in town visiting (conveniently the weekend before a test *cough* ;) and they took me shopping.

I retract the last statement.

While we were out, I mentioned that I needed to buy some dog food for Oso because we hadn't fed him in a few days.

All you animal activists settle on down and change your underpants. We fed him. Just scraps and what-not, but I'm sure that Purina has a lot more knowledge of a dog's nutritional needs than I do. And they market well. And charge accordingly, if I may add...

Anyhoo, we were in Ross shopping and I mentioned (more for my sake than Oso's) that I was going to run next door to the Petco and get him some food. But I got distracted by a phone call to a friend where I hid in the back, left hand corner of Ross behind some wicker furniture to pass the time. If you don't know me, I don't do clothing shopping. If you've ever seen me dress myself, there is your confirmation. I hate shopping. I said it.

Back to the story.

So, I forgot to get the food. Next stop was Sam's club. (I like shopping there. Especially with my parents.) My mom asks where the dog food is that I went to go get (when I was absent for a period of time getting said dog food), and I told her I forgot. * insert mean glance from Grandma who happens to have a soft spot for Oso*

We get out of the car and head up to the Sam's storefront. Guess what is spilled in a huge pile in the Sam's parking lot? Dog food.

Yes. I. Did.

We went on into Sam's. Did our shopping. conveniently took a small box along with us, and scooped up the food in the parking lot.

Yes. I. Did.

The best part was that my mom called it Manna From Heaven.

For The Glory Of Love, and Paying It Forward

Y'all will never guess what I received in the mail today.

THIS!

As if all that wasn't cool enough, apparently I'll be receiving a nursing magazine in the mail sometime soon! Emily, this was such a creative way to Pay It Forward, and I am amazed at the thoughtfulness that went into it! Thank you!



I don't know that she planned for me to receive the package on a Monday or not (though I am highly suspicious), but it was a wonderful way to start off my week.

So obviously, I drove in morning traffic to some rockin 80's tunes. And Air Supply. I also realized that I didn't know the right words to a whole lot of songs back in the day. My bad. I would also appreciate a little clarification on how "loving would be easy if your colours were like my dream. Red, gold, and green. " - Boy George


What?

I spent way too much time pondering that one, so I continued on with the play list and let Peter Cetera make all things right. I wanted to stop the car, get out and wax on. wax off. But I was on I35, and I had an appointment with my professor to do a check-off on administering parenteral drugs. Priorities people.



I will stand like a crane on my rockery later, thank you very much. And possibly build a dojo.

No Shoes, No Shirt, No Service

(I have been documenting some of my finer points in nursing school and just haven't published yet. Here is one I'd love to share that was originally written on 9/10/08. Enjoy.)

Today was the first morning that the boys had Julie come to pick them up and drop them off at daycare for me. I have to be at clinical at 6:45, the daycare doesn't open until 7:00, and Sebastian leaves between 6:15-6:30 in the morning- so you see my dilemma.

Julie is my solution to that (more on her later)


It was a rough transition, because the boys were leaving with someone other than their mother before the sun was up, and then they got to watch me drive away. I would have felt more pangs of guilt tug at my heart, but my heart was already racing and probably couldn't take much more - because I was running late to get to clinical.



I drove up, parked, and raced my way to the hospital entrance. And then I looked down. And saw that I was wearing sandals.

Sandals! To work in a hospital.


I did that pivot back and forth thing that you do when you don't know if you should continue on, or track back. I continued on and explained to my professor that I was there. And that my shoes weren't.



She was very understanding and it wasn't that big of a deal. Except for the fact that some of the girls were teasing me about how some day in semester 4 someone would bring up how Becky showed up to 1st clinical in sandals. Ha.Ha.



Lucky for me, my best friend lives in the neighborhood just behind the hospital (and is actually a nurse there). I made the emergency phone call to her. I explained that I had shown up to clinical in sandals.



Y'all want to know what the first words out of my BEST FRIEND'S mouth were???



Girl, are you wearing your Chanel's???



I love her.

(per request, the sandals worn will be posted. when I find time to charge the camera)

And in other news

I am suspicious that a fellow blogging friend is pregnant. PREGNANT y'all.

Ain't nothing going to bring someone out of the woodwork more quickly than finding out when someone special to you is pregnant. And she is special. I peek at her life almost daily. I love this blogging world that introduces you to people you never would have met, but somehow can't imagine your life without.

So, please. Please, please Lydia. Spill the beans. You have surfaced a post from me when I have an exam on Monday.

and F.Y.I., y'all. I got an A on the first one. I'm just saying. (bragging)

Show Must Go On

I know I've been gone for oh, so long. Oh. So. Long. But I have made it through my 1st two weeks in nursing school and I'm still kicking. Here's what's been going on around here...

• I convinced my two GREAT friends in the nursing program to choose to have their clinicals at Round Rock Medical Center because,

1. it's close to my home.

2. my best friend works there

3. I don't think I need more reason than those already supplied.

they were persuaded by my adamant statements that they "wouldn't regret it". let's just all cross our fingers on this one...and hope they don't read this post.

• my computer flat-lined. It didn't die, because the monitor had power and the tower had power. They just didn't seem to connect. The first thing I thought of in my computer savvy little brain was to check the cable because

a. a cable is less expensive than a computer or a monitor

b. that's really all I had to go on since I don't fix computers for a living. My troubleshooting skills are quite elementary.

It wasn't the cable.

So after much soul searching (and a coincidental previous experience in this department) I thought, video card. But, the thought of shelling out 60-70 dollars for that just upset me. So I let my computer sit for weeks (it seemed like) without being able to use it.

Tonight, I heard that lovely little windows jingle song play. For some reason, my computer is back.

It could be prayer, because make no mistake- there were two or more gathered doing just that when I realized that my FIRST semester of nursing school that I happened to be taking ON LINE was being BOTCHED by the timely death of my computer.

All I know is that I am appreciating the return of internet access. and blogging.

• I have my first exam tomorrow morning. Do you see that I should be freaking out about that and not blogging? Of course you do. Is there any sense in my typing right this instant? Probably. unless you consider a little "fix" on my computer withdrawal a bad thing. I'm just saying.
• Now, I'm beginning to start the freak out process that anyone who knows me and my study habits is all too familiar with. So, I should probably go.

not to study, mind you. to freak out. ;-)

• I ALMOST forgot! The boys love the instructional child care. L-O-V-E. I haven't had any problems. The first week, Homer and Gabriel would cry when I left them. that would stop by the time I walked the three feet to Sebi's room to drop him off (just right across the hall). The next week, it was just Gabriel. And by the 3rd week, Gabriel is the one waving and blowing me kisses when I leave :o didn't expect this to be so easy.
• and they weaned Gabriel off of the pacifier on day 2. I haven't had an issue with it since. my eyebrows are raised and I'm left wondering when potty training will be hit hard...

This Is MY Life. Only It's Not In MY Hands.

Y'all.

I feel like I can fly. I seriously feel like I can fly. Everyone that has phone contact with me, please put down your phones. I am not going to attempt to fly in the general use of the term. But I am soaring. My mood is soaring. My LIFE is soaring. There could not be any more things pointing me in the direction that I should be going lest God himself decided to drop down neon signs saying, "Walk this way, Becky" . And I'm not even kidding.

I wish I could ooh, and ahh, and dazzle everyone of the pressed down, shaken together, running over, not even room to fill, blessings that I have been given in the past 2 months, but I'll spare you all.

I'll spare you because it wasn't the past 2 months. It was a life in the making. Thank you, Lord. I humbly accept your blessings.

And on to the family and such....

Oh my WORD! The boys are growing way too fast for me. The Instructional Child Care that I have them enrolled in begins on the 18th and it has a convenient web page to access the child's teacher, class assignments for the week, progress reports, and all sorts of stuff I didn't see. I didn't see all the other sorts of stuff because I noticed that my three boys had three DIFFERENT teachers.

please allow me to get past the lump in my throat.......

When I was pregnant with Homer & Gabriel and joined the Moms of Multiples group, I heard much talk of how the schools were very adamant on separating multiples.

I did not know that I was going to come across it..... NOW. I looked at my computer screen, got up, grabbed my keys, and told Sebastian that I had to go to the school.

"They are trying to split up my babies!"

I believe I said that as I sprinted out the door. I'm sure he thought it was "my time" of the month.

I don't drive fast. In fact, I drive very cautiously. I am all about the 10 and 2 position on the wheel, and I don't get road rage. I don't care if you are tailing me and giving me the finger or what not. It really doesn't bothe me, because I'm safe. I have three kids to come home to. I will be the other driver that isn't just responsible for myself, but takes notice of everyone else on the road.

And I'll have a class on underwater basket weaving next week and we'll review our knitting project next....

Anyhoo. I sped there. I believe the speed limit was 45 and I went 52.

Yes. I. did.

And then I got there and had no idea what to say.

Lady at front desk is on the phone and I'm trying to look all sorts of nonchalant as my heart is racing.

Lady is off the phone now.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes. You could tell me why in the heck YOU have decided that my boys should not be in the same classroom together. And while YOU are at it, you could kindly relay to ME why I wasn't informed that YOU would tear my family apart!"

that's just the scenario that went through my mind before either one of us spoke. Bless her uniformed heart.

I won't walk you through the actual conversation, because I pretty much left with my tail between my legs.

I was nice y'all, don't worry. I was concerned, but nice.

But if my instincts are to allow me to reason in the best way that I know of, I should listen to the advice of those that are more experienced. It is common practice to separate multiples. There is evidence that they can develop more independently, and I've always been all about that. And so, I think that my Homer and my Gabriel will be what I always wished for them to be. Separate. Individuals. They will always have a connection that I can neither strengthen nor weaken. It is my responsibility, however, to encourage that they be who they were created to be.

And it reminded me of when I was young. My sister and I are 15 months apart. I excelled in school from an early start, and they wanted to push me forward a grade. My mother said no because she did not want there to be competition between the two of us. I get that now. I called my mom from the parking lot after talking to the school with tears in my eyes. She lovingly told me that they would be o.k. And I needed to hear that. They would be o.k. They will be o.k.

Now me, I'm gonna take some working on...

And So I Sanitize

We've all heard that denial is not just a river in Egypt, but really? Did it have to come in the form of cockroaches invading my bathroom drawer EVERY night? And you know how I know they are there? Because I get up earlier now (I'm in training for "real" life) and when I walk in the bathroom and open my bathroom drawer to take out my toothbrush to do the very first thing that I do every morning, I get greeted by the very last thing I want to see every morning.

Cockroach.

And I swear it's the same little fella. I know there is probably a whole slew of them that party it up in my bathroom all night long, but he seems to stick around for last call and then passes out in my bathroom drawer only to be wakened by the bathroom light flicking on and his "bed" being moved open.

And can I just ask if anyone else has seen Wall-E? You know how he's got that little side-kick roach friend THAT. NEVER. DIES. He gets A-bombed by Eve, and he still never dies.

Lord, help me.

And send my friend to rehab, or find him a darn robot to follow around. Because I have bought way too many replacement toothbrushes in the last two weeks and I would start hiding them under my mattress if I wasn't convinced that I was a princess that might feel the discomfort.

I'm considering buying alcohol, filling up a glass and setting my toothbrush in that all night long. I just don't know that I would like a hair of a dog that never bit me starting off my day.

That, and I might see 6 kids instead of 3 when they wake up...

I'm A Beautiful Flower

This morning, I went out to check on my Calla Lillies and I had a little glimpse of the amazing love that God has for me.

The very next day after I planted my bulbs, I went and stared at that spot in the ground. I stared and stared. I did this for weeks. I would squat down and examine the soil. I watered it daily. I made a routine out of heading out first thing in the morning to go and check on my flowers . Noone passing by could have known what that barren spot would someday house. I was so excited for the beauty that I knew would some day bloom.

The day that my first stem broke ground, I will never forget. That tiny stem would have gone unnoticed had I not known that area of soil so well. Certainly as it grew, it would have been seen, but I saw it as a tiny speck just surfacing the soil. I jumped and screamed with joy. I had to point it out to Sebi and Sebastian. It was so small and hardly noticeable, but I saw it. I can't explain the gratification I had in seeing it surface followed by two, three and four more.

Now they are a good 12 inches above ground and I have about 6 new stems just surfacing. This morning when I went to go do my daily check, I noticed that one of my grown leaves was at a 90 degree angle and flat on the ground. My heart sank. A cat ran into it? A ball thrown by a young child from the neighborhood? What could have possibly happened to my precious plant?

It was broken. That's all I could think, and I cried. I cried because when I thought of my plant being broken, I thought of the times when I myself have been broken. I thought of my love for that plant and how much I wanted it to be strong and steady. I thought of how I wanted to see the beauty that I knew it had coming in a bloom. I wiped the tears from my eyes and I gathered some fresh soil to support the base of the stem until I had it upright again.

I went inside hopeful that my little plant would heal, and I thought of the care I had taken to nurture it back to good health. I thought of how I had provided it all that I could so that it would become what I had intended it to be.

I thought of all of the things that I am provided and blessed with. I thought of how I have been fed and nurtured spiritually and given a strong foundation of faith. I thought of planting myself in good soil and surrounding myself with support from my church family.

I thought of God looking down at me daily, so excited to see the woman he created. And it made me want to bloom.

It's All Relative. Except That They Are The Same Age.

I know I've mentioned that I don't use the term twins hardly ever. But it came to my realization the other day that maybe I should educate Sebi as to just what exactly twins are, being that he will be in a school which will probably mention to him on more than one occasion that he is the big brother of twins.

Gabriel uses a pacifier. He is my only child that ever has. Homer sucks his thumb. He is my only child that ever has. And there you have it, I have three unique, completely different boys that have their own God-made plans that I can neither change nor wish anything other for them.

Yesterday, Homer was being a little ham like he tends to be often, and he found one of Gabriel's pacifiers and put it in his mouth. I kid you not, he knew not how to suck it, he just held it there between his teeth showing everyone as if to say, "do you see that this is not normal for me? isn't this funny?" And it was.

But then, Sebi said,

"Homer! That's Gabriel's mah-moy! (our word for his paci) That's silly. Don't worry, Homer. Some day you'll grow up and you'll be able to use a mah-moy just like Gabriel!"



Let's all remember for Sebi's sake that Gabriel is in the 95th percentile for height, while Homer barely makes the 50th.



But, I really should explain how they have the same birthday some time soon.

Now Tell Me That Ain't Cute

I've always loved my Pudgy's bottom. And yes, that skin is as soft as it looks. I'm holding on to all the baby I have left...*sigh*

Cordial Inappropriateness

Sebi: "Mommy? Will you please pause this Max and Ruby- otherwise I'm going to go poop all over myself."

When Does THIS Stop?

Or is this just the beginning?

The Twins

It's not a phrase that frequents my vocabulary. In fact, I made it a point to not recognize them as "the twins". I wanted them to be their own individuals- not one incomplete without the other. I often refer to them as "the babies".
I don't know how that would be different from "the twins", but roll with me..


I was just thinking tonight,



twins. I have twins. I am one of very few fortunate to have twins. Two healthy boys. Two boys who made it. Didn't want to come out in fact. My doctor had to recommend inducing, because after 37 1/2 weeks with twins, it's just risky.



I've never told this story, but I want to before I forget.



Having twins was indescribable. The hospital stay was madness. Not only did I have the nurse coming in every hour or so to check vital signs or what not, but I also had to (attempt) to breastfeed two babies. I didn't know which baby was which for the greater part of my stay in the hospital. They were together in that little station they plant the babies in with a note card just behind their heads that said baby A or baby B. And before I picked one up, I had to check which one it was that I had.



On June 21st, we officially gave birth to Homer and Sergio. What? you are asking. Let me explain...

I wanted to name one of the twins after my father, Homero Olivo Aguilar. Sebastian wanted the other to be named Gabriel.

When I was about 3 months pregnant we moved from South Austin to Round Rock and we didn't know (at that time) that I was pregnant with twins. One of our neighbors was also pregnant and had intended to name her baby Gabriel if it was a boy.

She was due for an ultrasound to determine the baby's gender the day I gave birth. Gabriel was originally named Sergio Juan Aguilar-Vega. Sebastian went home to tend to the dog and Sebi and found out that our neighbor was having a girl and came back to the hospital requesting a name change.



So, Sergio became Gabriel. And I can't imagine another name for him.



My mom stayed with me for 10 days after I gave birth. I was exhausted. I had little to no sleep, and I was mad at her for always wanting to hold one of the babies- because I knew when she left I wouldn't be able to do that, and I was afraid of how they would take things. I'm sorry mom.



The day my dad came to pick up my mom, I cried as she left and I told her I didn't know how I was going to make it on my own. but, I did.



It was hard. Very hard. I hardly slept, if I did at all. I would nod off in the middle of the day just sitting and breastfeeding. And that is all I did for about 4 months. It was a rotation of breastfeeding one and then the other and then holding Sebi. Sebastian was student teaching and volunteer coaching- so he would leave early in the morning and get home just as I was bathing the twins and getting them to bed.



I wasn't producing enough milk. The babies were starving. I tried every remedy out there to increase my milk production and it just wasn't working. Not only were they not getting nutrition from me, but I was losing weight like crazy from feeding them round the clock. I remember being hungry- all. the. time. My stomach growled like I hadn't ate IN DAYS. I had to eat every hour to keep up with the demands of feeding two babies, and I was sooo skinny. I look back at pictures of myself when I was breastfeeding, and I can't believe how little I was. They really drained me. I had to eat frequently; I needed to. My stomach would ache for food. It was something I had never expected. I had to package small snacks/meals in the refrigerator to have throughout the night. Because if I wasn't breastfeeding, I had to get up to eat. It was a constant feeling of extreme hunger that I will never forget.



I finally gave in to formula because I was exhausted and couldn't place day from night or night from day or left from right or Homer from Gabriel. And I had Sebi to remember also. I needed help, and Sebastian couldn't breastfeed and I was exhausted. Completely exhausted. I had all this guilt that the babies were taking up so much of my time, so when they WERE sleeping, I would take Sebi out to play. I was running on fumes. Literally.

My Gabriel became my sweet, sweet Gabriel. My Homer was my handsome prince (and later became our Pudge). I had spent so much time worrying about how I would distinguish and love them both equally, and somehow separately, and it just happened. they are two completely different boys. completely.

I was asked by an old high school friend (who is a new father) how I could possibly love all of them so much. He expressed how he loved his new baby girl so much and couldn't understand how that could happen three times over.

I remember thinking that my heart grew. It grew and grew and grew, until there was enough love (and even a little extra) for all three.

(Drennons et al. A Fish Tale, 2006)

Hello Friends

I don't know that anyone will read this, because I have been absent for so long now.

But, y'all.

You have no idea the things that have been going on in my little world. No. idea.

for starters,

• I have been throwing my husband into the fire. The fire of a world I like to call....SURVIVAL. I have held off on cooking dinner once or twice a week. When he finally gets hungry enough, he has been cooking. Granted, it has been burgers. Previously shaped and individually packaged burgers. But it's progress. Unbeknownst to him, I'm trying to prpare him for the nights when I may not have time to cook for him or the kids- because I may be up to my neck in homework, or involved with a study group, or who knows what. I like to prepare. I'm a preparer. SpaceBalls would tell me to just go. But I can't hit ludicrous speed without preparing.
• oh, the job hunt. It is a long, harsh road. Applications. Resumes. I hadn't done a resume since 1999. cover letter-schmother letter. That's all I've got to say about that. How about, I'm awesome. You need me. I need you. Let's talk.
• Long story short. I need a CNA position. You have to take a course to become a CNA. The course costs 500 dollars. Somehow, the people that run Nurse Aide Training of Austin have offered to sponsor me, and I get to take the course for free. I start next Monday.
• Remember the program that I have been trying to get into that pays for school and books and uniforms and stethoscopes and child care and so much more if/and/when/ needed? They have decided to enroll me for the fall. The director sat down with me and told me that they were not funding Williamson County (where I live in Round Rock), only Travis County (in Austin).....But,

they were making an exception for me. I was told that if I talked with other people in my area to make it very clear that they did not have funding for Williamson County. they were making an exception for me.

May I just say, God is good.

All the time.

It's Happening. Tonight.

Once in a blue moon, Sebastian & I go to the movies. He loves going to the movies. Me, not so much. I can't talk or excuse myself to the ladies room with the convenience of a pause button, and I have to pay RIDICULOUS amounts of money in order to lose those privileges.

Sometimes, I fall asleep. In hindsight, I have payed to sleep. Nice.

Anyhoo, Sunday is Sebastian's 30th birthday and he asked his parents to come by after we got the kids to bed so we could go to a movie. Did I mention that he L-O-V-E-S to go to the movies? He's all set. I found some site up on the computer called Fandango, where he has apparently already purchased the tickets. What the heck is a Fandango anyway? Wait. Let me be intuitive and answer that one myself. It must be a site where you can buy movie tickets.

.....

We are going to see The Happening. I have read some reviews and the future doesn't look so bright- for neither the movie nor me. But Sebastian is a fan of M. Night Shyamalan. He also loves to ask me "who is the guy that made The Sixth Sense?", because I always respond,

"Homminuh Shomminuh"


I would love to stay home and watch my calla lillies grow. because they are literally growing right before my eyes!...two of them, anyway. But, I'm gonna look on the bright side and consider that I may have a nap penciled in around 9:45 tonight.

After all, sleep is priceless.

Randomness

I haven't seen y'all in awhile. Not by choice, mind you. Our mouse to the computer is hanging on it's last leg and it only works if you twist the cord (my remedy), or blow on it (Sebastian's). There is obviously no rhyme or reason to our logic.

Also it's very frustrating to read a message from Microsoft that pops up saying,

"USB device not recognized. One of the USB devices attached to this computer has malfunctioned, and Windows does not recognize it. For assistance in solving this problem, click this message."

I can't click on this message, because the particular USB device which you are referencing happens to be the mouse.

Nice, huh?

So here's what's been going on in our neck of the woods:

• Tomorrow morning, we are visiting one of the prospective daycares I have found. I am predicting that I will cry at some point.
• Remember the Calla Lillies that I planted??? I check that area of soil daily. Several times. As soon as I get up in the morning. Throughout the day, and before I go to bed. Early this evening, I was doing my inspection and I SAW SOMETHING. not just anything, mind you. I have growth. thank you very much. I am quite pleased. I'll be taking pictures and will post them when it's all grown and off to college, or in someone's wedding.
• Gabriel is an interactive child. He sings all the songs to the shows that he watches and he loves to announce "A clue! A clue!" during Blue's Clues. I think it is adorable.
• Homer has a sweet tooth. He asks for an opsicle many times a day and throws a fit if you don't give him one. He also loves chocolate. and pretty much anything sweet. That apple didn't fall far. It may very well still be attached to this tree...
• Sebi is in robot world and loves to build robots with his Lego's. Lego's are by far his favorite toy. EVERY night, we build something. Usually a robot. But tonight, we built a space station. He had a special area where I could fly my ship in and fill up my tank with gas. His prices were competitive but he's mine, so I gave him my business.

only half a tank. We're on a budget ;-)

Becky Wonka & Her Chocolate Factory

Just on a side note- every time I write/type chocolate, I have to say it in Spanish in my head to get the spelling right. It's one of those weird little quirks I have. Along with being obsessed with getting as many popcorn kernels to pop as I possibly can without burning the popcorn. Or trying to stab a crouton with my fork and not break it....anyone have some of those?

but back to where I started.

You know that scene in Charlie and The Chocolate Factory -and I am NOT talking about the version that Johnny Depp did (although I will say it was an interesting take on the original, but it's like holding a fake boob vs. a real one. you just know it's not quite the same. not that I have ever held a fake boob. or a real one. only checked for lumps.) I really am just straying here...

back to where I started. the scene in Charlie and The Chocolate (did it again) Factory where they are about to get on that boat in the chocolate (again) river and then everything goes all crazy and he starts talking faster and faster with the "is it raining? is it pouring? is the hurricane a blowing?" but it all happens so fast that you're left thinking,

"what madness. quick and over and done with madness."

I feel like that's where I am right now. I'm in this spiraling boat that I don't have control of, but I am very conscience of. and I know it's happening so quickly, and will be over- but it's happening.

I am looking for childcare. I am filling out application after application after application for assistance. I am googling, researching, calling, wait-listing, interviewing, FREAKING OUT, and looking for childcare. I have been looking for a job. And I am also applying for scholarship after scholarship after scholarship, and after many, many weeks of all of this......I want the boat to stop.

I want to return to normalcy. Did I ever have that? I want to return to the place with no panic. The place where I don't have this heavy tug on my heart because I have to let go of the kids. The place where I can not feel guilty for putting on a show because I have a phone call to make, or an e-mail to send, or a resume to update. I want my boat to stop after all the crazy.

And I want to get off and get to lick the snauzberry on the wall. And drink the fiz drink that makes me so happy and giddy and lets me fly. And get my everlasting gobstopper. and then ride in an elevator that crashes out of a building's roof.

maybe I'll save that last one for a dream...

I just want my boat to stop.

So You Had A Bad Day?

y'all.

Today I had to go back to the student support office to drop off the rest of the paperwork from yesterday. I gathered all the things I needed and placed them in a big, huge manila folder. I wanted to head out early and get this over and done with. I didn't even feed the kids.

I'm not Satan. I had a plan. I gave them milk when they woke up, but since yesterday taught me that they hate the support center, I needed a distraction. Food works nicely. Especially if they're hungry. Like haven't eaten since last night hungry. ;-) So we picked up some food and headed on our merry way.

We got there, made the treck up the hill, Sebi said he had to pee- so we found a restroom and took care of that business. Then off to deliver my smartly packaged folder. Oops. I left it in the van. Of course. So we treck back to the van, open the door. Guess what? I forgot the folder at home. uggggghhhhhh.

I still hadn't fed the kids because I was waiting for when we got into the office that they hate and has scarred them forever and ever, amen. I had no choice but to bust out the food, pack up the kids and the stroller and head on back home.

unpack the kids, grab the folder, repack the kids and back to the school.

We get in the office that has scarred them forever and ever, amen and start snowballing. Homer remembers this guy and his office. He's pissed. I broke out a candy bar. It was backup. It lasted about 2 minutes. Nice back up. Next time I'm bringing everlasting gobstoppers. So amidst the wails and cries and tantrums between Homer and Gabriel and Sebi finding EVERYTHING that he could possibly get into- we talked about my options.

Then he wants to get me registered for a speech class this summer. I have a hold on my account because of $11.00 dollars that I owe for tuition that my grants didn't cover this semester because I'm "out of district" a.k.a. "we get to screw you and make you pay more than double".

So he sends me off to go and take care of that and tells me to come right back. Off we go. me and the banshees.

payed the11 bucks, back to the office that has scarred them forever and ever, amen (but a quick trip to the restroom because Sebi has to pee again). This was our shining moment. Our encore, if you will. Sebi has discovered a lamp in his office with a motorcycle base. if you touch a specific button, not only does it light up, but it also makes a sound akin to the Harley Davidson: Reunion of Every Member Festival. Homer and Gabriel are doing their thing that they do in the office that has scarred them forever and ever, amen.

meanwhile, the counselor and I are trying to get me into this class. He can't register me because I need to be granted a petition. He makes a phone call. I hear him say, "I'm sorry I've got screaming babies in my office", so I politely excuse myself and the little darlings and step outside of his office. Sebi is running semi-circles around the stroller and jumping and jumping and jumping. This may have had something to do with him frequenting the candy bowl the receptionist had on her desk. maybe. Homer and Gabriel are at their all time worst. ALL TIME.

A nice lady with a pleasant look on her face *ahemm* comes into the office where we are and tells the receptionist that she is going to close the door *glances at me and my sideshow*, and states that they are doing testing next door.

Wonderful.

The office that has scarred them forever and ever, amen is right next to the testing center. And I just bought a bunch of college kids who were hungover and didn't get around to studying a free ticket for a re-test.

You are welcome, young Jedis. I remember those days...

So while all pandemonium has broke loose on my end, the counselor has managed to get me into the honors program. Because it's an honors class that he was trying to register me for and that's why I needed to be granted a petition. So now I have to fill out an application for the Honor's Program and fax it in so that they can send me a congratulatory e-mail and he can get me into this class. Is it just me, or does it seem like this man is hell-bent on getting me into that dang class. I mean really. I think there are others out there.

so now, I've got the kids. you know, the 3 of them. and I'm expected to take an honor's speech class in 5 weeks, online, with two class meetings on the campus that has NO PARKING. NO. PARKING. It is known as the campus that has no parking. I don't even know what that campus' real name is. It's just always been the campus that has no parking.

and this guy can maybe get me some childcare in the spring. maybe.

I'll talk about my afternoon later. I'm waiting for 5 o' clock...

Kids Screaming. Phone Ringing.

Today was a busy, busy day. And it's only 1:00. I got the kids up and fed them an elegant breakfast (maple and brown sugar oatmeal). After that was all over the kitchen table, chairs, the dog, my blinds, and their bibs, I reconsidered taking the "easy" way out of cooking again tomorrow morning.

Then we headed out the door to load up in the van. Only they weren't loading up in the van, they were running and playing and then they saw Rodger and his dog, Moe......

25 minutes later we were in the van ready to head to the financial aid office, because they want to deny me financial aid *and I wanted to get up on my horse and say the hell if they weren't going to give me financial aid* but I thought it would be best to pay them a friendly visit and fill out an appeal form and make something happen, quick, in regards to the paying of my schooling. And I don't own a horse.

So we make the treck from the parking lot to the side of the building that has handicap access for the stroller and continue our 3 mile hike to where we need to be. The financial aid office. Which is where everyone else at Austin Community College needed to be also.... apparently. As the natives got restless I cruised around the hallway and noticed the student services office. what do you know? I was just on the computer this morning looking up this office to submit a request to help with childcare and here I am standing in front of the office. Of course I went in, (even though I had already put my name on the list at the financial aid office), but I figured they were on a pretty good wait and this place was pretty much deserted.


I spoke with the gentleman, the babies kept throwing their bottles, he got my info, Sebi started fussing about being thirsty, I was given some paperwork to fill out, Gabi threw off his shoe, a nice lady picked it up along with their bottles and handed them to me, the nice gentleman asked if there was a time I could come back without the children, I finished the paperwork, and then we headed back to the financial aid office. All while the babies are screaming their heads off. **before I go on, can I just point out the irony in the fact that in the office that is suposed to help me get childcare, the man asked if I could come back without the kids? no. I can't. because I need childcare. duh.**

Guess which office cleared out while all that was going on? The financial aid office. It was now deserted- so I went in to get myself on the list(again) and hey, hey, hey! I was the first on the list. I go back to the hallway and wait for my name to be called. The babies are still crying, Sebi is telling me that "it's time to go home and he wants to go home, and can we please go home now??" and then someone set off the fire alarm. It was not one of my kids. Thank you very much.


So we wait. and wait, and wait, and other people start showing up and putting their names on the list and FINALLY after 17 minutes they call my name. Hallelujah. We shuttle in through the itty bitty door which is just wide enough for a double stroller and park ourselves at a desk. After much computer searching from the young lady helping me, she tells me that I need to fill out an appeal form. thank you, genius. But I also get this extra tid-bit of information: "you need to go to the nursing department and have them fill out a degree plan"


"Can't I just print one from online?"


"no. they need to fill it out. you have to go to the nursing department and have them fill it out and then bring it back here to us." Oh, yes. And all the kids are crying now.


It is slowly becoming obvious that getting the information they are requesting and submitting it quickly is now quite possible........in Fantasy land.


So we leave with my paperwork and all our tears and the dread that I now have to drive way south into east Austin to go to the nursing department. The ride down south wasn't bad. Homer jibber-jabbered and screamed and Sebi asked if we could get chicken nuggets and french fries and a sprite, and I said yes so he was happy. Gabriel is always an angel in the car. We got to the Wendy's, picked up some food, and headed to the Eastview campus. On a side note, I believe that campus is called eastview because you get a glimpse of east Austin on your way there. Most people would care not to see it.

We parked illegally in a faculty/staff parking space because I couldn't find parking anywhere closer than a mile down a hill and I was not about to treck up that big hill with the kids. I know. Some poor professor was probably late to teach their class because of me. Lord have mercy on me.

We made it inside and to the "elegators" and rode up to the third floor. I signed in at the nursing office and the receptionist asked me what I needed. I explained and she asked if I had the paperwork they had given me at the financial aid office. Of course I had the paperwork. I just came from there. Only, I left it in the car.

Back down the "elegator", back to the car (glad I parked illegally now), back to the building and up to the 3rd floor.

Receptionist: "you need to turn this in on the 2nd floor in room 8227".

thank you. I enjoy the fact that my 3 year old delights in the pushing of the buttons of the elegators, but could you have spared me a trip and given me that info the 1st time we met? or did you not notice that I'm tugging half a basketball team along with me?

Thank goodness the babies and Sebi were on their best behavior at this campus- since they were munching on fries and nuggets and drinking sprite.

The paperwork got turned in, we went for one last ride in the elegator and headed to the campus bookstore -because I had a plan for the ride home which I like to call candy.

It wasn't for me. I wanted them to be entertained for the long ride back home. I just didn't foresee the sugar rush that I was to have to deal with once we got back. I tried to pull the old, "hey, y'all want to watch a show?" card.

they weren't having it. They wanted to play outside. And the neighbor had her pool out and full of water. Many splashes later, we headed inside. And now they are watching a show. and I can not wait until nap time.

I have to reserve a park for their birthday party and switch electric companies and then fill out some more paperwork from the nice man from the student services so that I can just drop it off tomorrow and spare him exposure to my life.

just another day in paradise.

Field Day

A couple weeks back, Sebastian's school had Field Day for the kids. They had bubble blowers, bounce houses, and all sorts of fun stations for the kids to enjoy. When I told Sebi that we would be going to Daddy's work, he ran to his room to get ready.

Notice the red whistle he has around his neck? He knows that daddy takes a whistle to work, and I guess he thought he better bring his along.

It's What's For Dinner.

Today we went to Walmart so I could buy some caladiums to plant *kill* because I am relentless and they like shade and I have shade. We also picked up some golf clubs for Sebi and a huge pink ball because I'm a sucker *the kids were making a scene* .

Then we headed off to Sam's Club to get lots.of.meat. and a few other essentials for the holiday weekend *like beer*. I love taking the kids to Sam's because they have that double seater grocery cart, so only one of the kids (99% of the time is Homer by the way) has to sit in the cart. After shopping we headed to the car, and since I was the only adult present I got stuck pushing my 3 boys and all the groceries up a hill in the snow barefoot. Wait. In the heat. 90+ degree heat. It was so hot I considered cleaning the driveway and just cooking the steaks there tonight. Who am I kidding- I wouldn't do that. It would just give the neighbors reason to phone for the funny bus to come and pick me up. Although, I am now questioning whether or not I could scramble an egg out there....

back to where I started. So, I'm pushing the kids up the hill in the heat and I say in a rhetorical fashion and mostly to myself, "you boys are no joke. what have I been feeding y'all?!"

Sebi: "Sphagetti! And macaroni!"

The child will have protein tonight. Because apparently, he's all good on the carbs.

Neighborhood Watch

I wanted to share this because I think it is one of the sweetest expressions of love that I have ever seen. I am privileged to see this gentleman just about every day driving (who I am assuming is his wife) in this little buggy that I can only imagine he must have custom built for her.

Every day, he rides by and we smile and wave hello. He takes her to the mailbox where they collect their mail and then she reads through it on her ride back home.

I don't believe this couple knows how happy it makes me to see them riding by every day. It makes me appreciate where my family is right now, because I wouldn't have wanted to miss out on the most heartfelt acts of serving I have ever seen.

Rock beats Flower

I have always had a love for the gardening. I have this ON again/off again relationship with it. It is really a wonderful hobby to have and a wonderful stress relief. Unfortunately, I was not hit by the Martha Stewart stick- and most of my projects don't come out as expected.

That being said. I hate to be a big downer with all my hype about my "garden" and all....but. I hit a little snaffoo which I would like to call the death of my flowers. I do have a fabulous rock garden, though. FABulous. I found one of those shiny sparkly rocks that looks like its got flecks of gold embedded in it. So I searched *demolished* some of the back yard digging up several others.
They look amazing in the sun and I've been known to go outside and just stare at them. My neighbor, Roger, teases me and says "They haven't grown any, Becky!" every time he catches me out there admiring my rocks. And I have good reason.

They don't need to be fed. They really don't need water unless they need an occasional cleaning. And they don't seem to talk as much as my petunias. Quite frankly, the biggest dilemna they have given me is how I should arrange them. The real beauty here is that I can move them over and over again and they will NEVER die. NEVER.

And I may as well admit that I have planted about 10 calla lilly bulbs. Before you ooohh and aaahhh- just know that I planted them in full sun. *Meaning there was full sunlight when I planted them.* I grazed outside today to stare at my beautiful rocks (again) and realized that by 3:00 in the afternoon they were in full shade. DOH!

I wish I had the photo skills of someone more experienced, because this picture does not due my rocks justice. Trust me. They sparkle like gold. And they are all slightly different shades of red, pink, gold, or green.That sad wimpy leaf on the right lower corner is a canna that I transplanted from a neighbors garden. Obviously, it misses home. And the cleared section of mulch is where the callas will hopefully make an appearance.....some day. The vincas off in the front are my next victims.

I've Been In The "Garden"

And I had a post- but I need a picture (or two) to go along, AND I needed sunlight, and the sun had shifted and I had shade and you'll understand when I post the post and the accompanying pics... so just you wait until that sun comes up, y'all.

just you wait. or not.

Fajitas

Everyone needs to realize that you must purchase skirt steak. I am not insulting anyone's intelligence. But marketing has something out there (at least H.E.B. does, anyway) that they conveniently set right next to the skirt steak which they label "beef for fajitas". Look away. That is not skirt steak. It's the hot dog of skirt steak, or the 'can you guess what I am' version.

Secondly, I like to have a phone handy. And a beer. So this should be done after 5 o'clock. My dad and I have this deal where we call one another if we're making fajitas. We drink a beer together over the wire and pretty much say the same thing every time.

"hey. whatcha doin? I'm making some B.A.F.'s" - that's bad-ass fajitas. Learn the lingo.

You should also have a spiked mallet(metal works best), unless you choose to get the tenderized version where they do the work for you- just know they don't always trim all of the fat, so it's on your conscience. But you'll be missing out on letting out the weeks frustrations on all the meat. And though your forearms may thank you, I suggest you go through the whole process at least once. It's sordof a right of passage with this recipe.

Lastly, the fajita seasoning is gonna make or break you. I use Fiesta brand. The label reads, extra fancy mesquite flavored Fajita seasoning. If you use another brand, it's gonna change the flavor. I have experimented. or had an emergency trip to Wal-Mart because I was out- and Wal-Mart doesn't carry Fiesta brand spices. If you can't find it, you're basically S.O.L. Basically.

Enough with the details. Here's what you'll need.

* skirt steak
* mallet (for tenderizing)
* fajita seasoning (Fiesta brand- extra fancy mesquite flavored)
* very sharp knife
* brown sugar
* cayenne pepper
* adolph's meat tenderizer
* secret ingredient
*zip-lock bags
* beer. ice cold (or this could work)



get comfortable. If you are going to trim the fajitas yourself, just know that it's not an easy job. Unless you have awesome cutlery, which I do not, so everyone out there just humor me and convince yourself that you're gonna be at this for awhile. Hence, the beer.

Once that's all done, bust out the mallet. Be warned that raw carnage will probably fly in various directions, the kids should steer clear of the area, and there will be intense sanitizing just after. I told y'all this is work. Also, you shouldn't have children who are napping because it is a very loud process. I'm just saying. I like to pound the living daylight out of the meat starting from the center and working my way out. It's the mexican version of pounding out a chicken breast for chicken parmigiana. And I do both sides. Does it make a difference? Heck if I know. But, that's how I do it and noone likes chewy fajitas, so you make the call..

Next you're going to massage the meat with the fajita seasoning and meat tenderizer. No need for zen music or incense. Usually a sporting event playing in the background from the t.v. will suffice. But you do want to do BOTH sides. sprinkle evenly over the meat and then just rub it in.

Now you will sparingly sprinkle both the brown sugar and cayenne over the meat. Sparingly, not miserly. You can adjust the cayenne and brown sugar to your taste level the next time. Or omit it. Whatever, it's your bbq. but these should also be massaged in. Again, both sides. cover the meat and let it sit in the fridge for at least a couple of hours to let the fajita seasoning work it's magic.


Then comes the secret ingredient. Barbecue sauce. Yes. I like to choose a thick and spicy or a sweet and spicy like a spicy brown sugar. Just put the meat in huge zip bags, cover with sauce, swoosh it around so every bit is covered and refrigerate overnight and the majority of the next day.

Once it's grilling time, just remove from the bags and you can leave as much or as little sauce as you choose.

While the meat is cooking, head inside to start on your homemade tortillas.



o.k., I don't make homemade tortillas. I just drink a beer and talk about how I'm going to... some day.


**update** I almost forgot. You can always add a little beer along with the sauce to keep things happy. And you can get creative with which sauce you choose too. My father used a sweet vidalia onion dressing a few times that was pretty decent.

Oh Fine Already.

You begged, you pleaded, you went sleepless nights. So,

Coming Soon: My infamous fajita recipe. Hope everyone's in the mood for grilling this weekend.

Yes, Jesus Loves Me.

Every other week I volunteer in the preschool Sunday class. I teach the 3 year olds. This was my week. And I had Bailey in my class.

I love when Bailey is in my class. She is the most precious thing. She recites the bible verse and always remembers it. She tells me about when she went to Sea World and how there was this lady that stood on one foot "like this" (she demonstrates) and is just one of the joys I get out of serving.

She started preschool and was terrified to be left there. I still remember the very 1st day I had her in class. She cried and cried when her mother left her. I picked her up and held her for a good part of the class. That week we were learning about the King of Babylon and Shadrak, Meshak, and Abendnego.

I always like to give a little modern twist to the stories to make them more interesting to the kids. While I was reading the story that explained that they were expected to bow down and worship an idol, I told the kids, you know what I think they said? I think they said, "Not gonna do it! Ain't gonna happen! I. DON'T. THINK. SO!"


And little Bailey (who had been shy and crying and in my arms the whole time) wiggled herself free and put her little hand up and repeated, "Not gonna do it! Ain't gonna happen! I. DON'T. THINK. SO!"

Obviously, the child spoke diva and I reached her. It is a moment that I will never, ever forget.

And today, she gave me another little moment that I will treasure. The kids started filing in this morning one by one. Each and every one of them came with what I will kindly call a burst of energy. Which I think was inspired by the dads who decided to make breakfast for Mother's Day- which consisted of sugar slathered in syrup and sprinkles. I'm convinced.

Miss Becky laid down a proposition for them. Because I'm crazy enough to think that I can reason with a class, roomful of hopped up 3 year olds. I offered up some free playtime for "this much time" (I used my hands as a measure) and then we would do our bible verse and our bible story. but When Miss Becky said it was time to clean up, everyone would listen. Right?



Bailey: Um. Teacher?


Miss Becky: Yes, Bailey?


Bailey: Sometimes, I have an attitude.


Miss Becky: laughing. (I couldn't help it.)


Bailey: (very serious face) It's not funny!


Miss Becky: stops laughing. puts on serious face


Bailey: Sometimes, I have an attitude. And it's not funny because I get in trouble and my mommy spanks me and I cry A-LOT!


Miss Becky: That's alright, Bailey. It's who you are.

I thought to myself, "you know, Bailey. Sometimes, Miss Becky has an attitude too."

Quite Contrary

Some time last year when it was too hot to plant anything (but just the right temperature to grow lots and lots of weeds), I decided to pull up the weeds (and dead shrubs), lay down some tarp, and cover it with mulch.

I patiently waited for springtime to come so I could plant something. I planted the petunias my husband got me.

Y'all. they are the most dramatic little plants EVER. (please read with a whiny voice) "We need sun. We need water. We need to be talked to. You should have planted us over there. Look how her garden is growing."

I swear they are like a bunch of needy teenagers that are pissed off because I'm not making enough food for them or giving them appropriate living quarters. They are sulking as we speak. Literally sulking. Look at those pouts...

If I May Get A Chip Off My Shoulder...

Today I spent a lot of time in the car due to several errands I had to run. While I was driving, a song came on that changed my perspective a bit. The lyrics sang,

you're gonna miss this
you're gonna want this back
you're gonna wish this time
hadn't gone by so fast

these are some good times
so take a good look around
you may not see it now-
But, you're gonna miss this

I've spent so much time planning, wondering, and getting excited about next year or the year after that, and sometimes (I am ashamed to admit), five years from now.

I don't want to miss this time. I don't want to look back and not remember my past because I was so caught up in getting to my future.

We Got New Neighbors

New neighbors with 5 (yes, I said f-i-v-e) chihuahuas. They are kept outside. Which happens to be right by my bedroom windows. Carma does a mean little circle. If you knew my dog, you'd get where I'm coming from...

I'm In

Yes. I'm in. I got an e-mail today saying that I was accepted into the nursing program. yup.

WOOO-HOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It's My Blogoversary

What?

I haven't been blogging or looking at anyone elses blog because I have been crazy busy with the kids and all sorts of other little projects I decided to start...(and probably not finish)

So I casually open my blog and read at the very top that it's my blogoversary. um. happy, woop-dee-doo. Cause I got nothing. (Maybe I'll post some balloons later. Maybe.) So, I sign in and read some message saying that my adsense account needs verification. I have no idea what the heck that is, Google. But thank-you.

How have you guys been?

My Sister ROCKS

I don't know if I've ever mentioned that almost 4 years into the kid thing, we haven't really ever bought any clothes for any of the kids. Why? Because my sister rocks. And is also (conveniently)a shop-a-holic.

I'm blessed. My parents came up for my birthday with two suitcases stuffed with clothes & shoes for Sebi..

This was just ONE suitcase..

And this was his closet after. ALL of these shirts she sent. I'm not even showing the overflowing drawers full of pants, shorts, swimming trunks, pajamas, and shoes..

And this is one of my many, many hampers full of clothes...

...which explains my laundry challenge that I am forever battling. My sister sends me so many clothes that I can literally go weeks and weeks without doing laundry. Seriously. When Sebi was born, I think he could have worn a different outfit for an entire year- if he would have stayed the same size. She has continually sent me clothes over the years, and I am so appreciative. And she's got good taste ;-)

Love you, Von. (SHOUT OUT!!!)

p.s. (I -also- always score too. She sent me all these fancy, expensive pants. LOVE IT)...and that was only from suitcase #1...

Pork Fat Rules

O.k. Nobody freak out.


Tonight when deciding what we would have for dinner, Sebastian suggested hamburgers. I needed to go to the grocery store to pick up some produce for my infamous beef stew that I'm making tomorrow and I said, "Hey, do you want me to get some bacon? And we can make bacon & cheese burgers?"


Yes. I. did.


After Sebastian recovered from the shock, he promised me the moon and the stars (if I was serious) and if we could have bacon on our burgers. It was out there. I couldn't take it back. Just like when Harry told Sally that. Only my Harry didn't need to tell this Sally that- because When Harry Met Sally happens to be my all time favorite movie and I've seen it like a ga-zillion times...


Anyhoo. I bought bacon. And what do ya know, there is a certain finesse to the cooking of bacon that I was not aware of. Apparently, Neptune's third moon and Uranus need to be aligned... or you should not have the pan scorching hot.. and there seems to be a need for carefully watching it so that it doesn't burn.


When I finished, I had this. (see over there -------------->)


uh. Where did my money go? (see that. how I exchanged from the phrase "bring home the bacon" the money thing. I know.) But, where did my money go? because that is not what I put into the pan. It shrank. Considerably. And then the Foodnetwork folder in the filing cabinet in my brain clicked itself open and dictated it's contents.


I heard, "pork fat rules" (Lagasse et al. 1992)


So my little dilemma of what to do with all of this pork fat solved itself by serving as my oil to caramelize some onion and jalapeno that I intended to lie under the bacon. Yes, I did.

Yes. I did.


And then I needed to toast the buns. I won't degrade you by asking you to bother guessing what I brushed the buns with before putting them in the oven (pork fat).

It was good. REAL good. And though Sebastian and I may be having the Brackston hicks version of a myocardial infarction tonight, just know that we've got each other's back. We'll be tossing a bottle of tums back and forth to each other tonight-and we recognize that we may be doomed to eat oatmeal every morning for the rest of our married lives. But,

Experiment confirmed. Yes, Emeril. Pork fat does rule.

He had the beef burger, I had the chicken. NO laughing that we both also had a pile of spinach with all of our pork fat.

The Elves Are Back...

and they are driving me crazy! Y'all know who I'm talking about. Those elves that you found out about when your family was taking a vacation National Lampoon's style. The ones your dad told you were running just in front of the car to keep the white lines lit up and you bought it. So while you sat searched and swore that you think you saw one, he was smiling and happy that someone was staying awake with him. Or is my dad the only genius out there...

Anyway, these mystic creatures have decided to pay me a little revisit. And they are leaving "presents" for me. It must be the elves, because I have no other explanation for why in the heck after I just swept the floor, I still manage to walk all over crumbs. Lots of crumbs. They magically surface every time I step in my kitchen. I think the elves are messing with me.

Or it could be these guys.

I don't know if you can see that the table has like 2 frosted mini wheats on it. They each had their own pile, but one of them decided it would be fun to chuck them all over the kitchen. The other followed suit. I have no idea who started the madness. All I know is that every time I stepped in the kitchen that day, I heard 'crunch'. And then you would hear me say, "dang it!".

Birthday and Dinner and Friends, Oh MY!

Me on my 32'nd Birthday

So, I've been a little busy lately. I may have previously mentioned that I love my birthday. It's the one day that is all about me. I may actually still be celebrating, technically. More on that later.


My morning started with wonderful intentions from my husband. Poor man...


He barged into our bedroom at 7:00am and loudly said, "Happy Birthday! I made you breakfast in bed!" I went to bed after 3:00am the night before. I rolled over and looked at my alarm clock and said, "Why in the world would you wake me up at 7:00am!??" Poor man.


I rolled right back over and sulked until I had to get up because I had lost my sleep wave (if you will). I was not a happy camper. And that's how I started my day. So around mid-morning, (could have been early afternoon) I decided that I wasn't going to lose my joy. I changed my paradigm, reclaimed my victory, and then felt pangs of guilt tugging at my heart for being so moody with my husband that morning. And then I moved on. It was my birthday.


Then I was on the telephone, (because the only thing that makes cleaning house go by is talking to one of the girls on the telephone) I seem to recall mentioning that I guess my husband was going to go to the gym today, "even though it was my birthday and it would be really nice if he had come home instead" or something like that. Well, up walks my husband with a whole bunch of petunias and a big bag from bath and body works. I don't think he realized that I needed to plant the petunias and that they weren't actually flowers like roses that you just put in a vase. Or that I only wear one fragrance and have since like 1991 and probably always will. But his sentiment soared over the little glitches and I was happy for the thought put into it. Except that he forgot that the last time I planted petunias and verbenas and something else that never made it, he happened to mention that my thumb may have burned...


Well, then he had to go to Walgreen's for candles.


o.k.


He came back with the best gift ever. He finally gets me. He brought my dear friend Angela, her husband and two adorable sons to celebrate. I'm a people person. The gifts, I could go either way on. What I really love is spending time with the people important to me. It was THE PERFECT gift. And then I was a little upset that he didn't let me know so that I could tidy up the house. Just a little. (wink)

We went to P.F. Chang's for dinner. It was sooooo good. I want to go back. Now. I hadn't been there in YEARS. And the manager happened to notice me (because I happened to work for him at Chili's years ago). Long story short, he bought us a round of drinks and a HUGE chocolate cake. It pays to have had like 27 different jobs.


The next night was Girl's Night Out, so that went well. Only- don't ever take two Sex with An Alligator shots in the same night. I'm just saying. And my parents are coming up this Thursday to celebrate my birthday! So I'm just rolling a two week celebration....it looks like :)

Here I am with the delicious tres leches cake (my favorite) that Angela got for me. That is also my infamous empire waist/I'm pregnant blouse. Which I wouldn't have been wearing if I had known that company was coming over. But it does have a flattering neckline.

And Here I am getting ready for the Girl's Night Out. 32 year old me. gulp.

They Say It's My Birthday

My church is having a service with guest Pastor Paul Endrei and his wife Patti who have authored a book on marriage enititled, Glue, Sticking Power for Lifelong Marriages. And I am looking forward to being there and then just coming home to some spaghetti (or steak *cough*) and a glass of wine.

Y'all have a good day. It is a very, very special one (wink).

The Payback Chronicles

I am starting a new series of posts which will be entitled the Payback Chronicles: all the tantrums, kicking and screaming, and everything inbetween. This way, when my dear, sweet boys are grown and married and suddenly expecting one of their own- I'm busting out the chronicles.



Oh, yes I am...



more on this later.

What I'm Planning To Wear

The conference was A-W-E-S-O-M-E, and so in line with what I needed spiritually. And no surprise, because only our God is capable of that! I am a precious child of God and am loved to an extent that I could never wrap my mind around- and I was chosen and designed by Him! We all were!

So how in the heck did I get so down and out??? I roll my eyes at myself, ladies. I do. I mean, really. Chosen?!?. Designed?!!. Every hair on my head!!. EveryTHING about me is who I was designed to be!. And my faults (we all have them) can be......wait for it.....used to glorify Him! I will praise Him in my storms (thank you Casting Crowns. no, really. free concert tickets would be too much-unless you insist).


Oh, and what I'm planning to wear is the fruit of the spirit. Please try this wonderful exercise that we were instructed to do at the conference.

Close your eyes and imagine yourself at a time when you looked absolutely fabulous. Picture what you were wearing, what your hair looked like, where you were. When you've got the image read on.
















Now, close your eyes and picture two people that are extremely important to you. Once you get the image, open your eyes and then read on.













What were they wearing? If your results were like mine, you probably didn't visualize that. Just THEM. I just want to be ME. And my exterior should be what I am projecting, (hopefully)me being a good steward of the gifts and talents that I have been bestowed by my Creator. I want people to look at me and see fruits of the spirit. I want people to see love and patience. Kindness and goodness. Self-control. Gentleness and faithfulness. Peace. And joy. And when the people that are most important to me set back and think of me, they won't visualize 10 pounds that need to be lost or an argueably fashion-challenged friend. They will see who I am. And I know that I am a precious, precious child of God. We all are.

**thanks, Toni for the wonderfully needed, spiritually uplifting gift. It was PRICELESS.**