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A two year old little boy drown in his family's swimming pool in the city right next to ours.

Sexual predators don't scare me. Recalled baby toys don't scare me. Swimming pools scare the ever living crap out of me.

But what I couldn't understand about this tragedy is that the news was talking to the mom. She was just standing outside of her house giving a casual interview about how she was outside with her kid, decided to walk inside and go do something "real quick" and by the time she came back out he was floating in the pool dead.

She was looking right at the camera and giving a play by play. "Ya, I just went inside real quick like and by the time I got back out, there he was floatin' at the top of the pool and I thought it was a doll or somethin' cause it didn't look like him."

She even had makeup on and looked like her hair was done.

The news was quick to point out that the pool was ungated and there were zero safety measures in place for this "family pool".

If something tragic happened to either of my children, you can be damn sure the last thing I will be doing is sitting down talking with the local news. I would be so devastated that I probably walk around in circles in an unconscious state mumbling words until they took me off to the crazy house. Not only did her son die that morning, but it was also HER fault. I'm all for letting kids have freedoms but what idiot lets a two year old toddler play alone next to a pool?

I suppose people grieve in different ways and I shouldn't judge a situation I've never (and godwilling WILL never) have gone through but...she did her hair and makeup!

A Housewife.

You've worked your butt off all day. Making phone calls, arranging different appoinments and cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. Why can you clean ALL day and your house still look like a train wreck! The kids have been taught lessons on colors, numbers, letters and animals. Yet they still call everything yellow and zebras sound like cows. Just like yesterday.

It's 6 o'clock and dinner is ready. Your husband finally walks through the door and you greet him with a smile and kiss, as well as a look that says "I thought we agreed you would start coming home at 5:30".

Husband goes off to leisurely change clothes while you corral the cats to the table for dinner. One of the kids starts to get a tad bit fussy and husband launches into an alter ego who is intolerant of any toddler-like behavior. You scoff inwardly because if he thinks their refusal to put their cup on their placemat is ridiculous, he should have seen the 20 minute meltdown because you didn't allow she-twin to walk into the pantry for the 100th time that day and point to the cheetos.

His shirts are all folded and put away, he hasn't had to worry about clean clothes or a clean toilet for almost 2 years now. He drills you on why you forgot to call the exterminator and reminds you that spring is just around the corner.

And then the questions begin. The Why's? How comes? He can't understand why you get so upset with him. All day long, this is YOUR house. You've spent hours tending to it, making it as functional as possible; you've also been the leader of the pack - instructing children where to go, what to do, what not to do. ...and then he asks you Why!?! at any little request.

Could you put placemats on top of the washer?

Why!?

Could you wait before running the dishwasher?

Why!?

Could you please put these away for me?

Now? Why?!?

Then he really screws up and when removing one of the children's diapers exclaiming 'Why it's so wet?! When's the last time you've changed them!?' And gives you a short lecture on diaper rash potential versus time in wetness.

Sometimes husbands don't realize how hard it is to the be the CEO of the house all day long, and then have that title stripped from you the minute they walk through the door. You dream of the day that you could march into their work and randomly start questioning everything about their office. Is that a new pen? How much did your lunch cost today? It would be easier if you took notes on a larger note pad. Close the curtains in here, do you know how much electricity you're wasting!

You've finally finished your nightly chores, prepared yourself for tomorrow, made your lists, and checked them twice. Your bed stares longingly at you and you yearn for it's chilly sheets and soft pillow. Just as your body starts to relax and you're about to drift off...your back gets nudged. Why does everyone need all of you all the time.

My daughter, the sociopath

When I picked my daughter up from school yesterday, her teacher pulled me aside. She asked, "Does she cry a lot at home?" I said, no, she's actually a very happy baby, mischievous but happy. The teacher said...oh. I asked why the question?

She then launched into a speech about how my daughter cries all day long while at school. She won't let any one touch her and tends to hide in the corner. I told her that she's always been like that and just doesn't like interacting with most people (sort of like her mama).

She again gave an awkward "uh huh" face and continued. I'm just worried about her because when the other children start walking towards her she sticks out her hand to block them and then starts crying, running away from them. I said...uh huh? She said, well all the other children play so nicely together but she doesn't want anything to do with them.

I said, well, maybe she feels they are beneath her, she can be sort of an elitist (I was joking but my humor went straight over her head). She kept going, does she have trouble at home? Does she have any brothers or sisters or people at home who harm her? This is where my smile disappeared and my mommy claws started creeping from their sheath. I said, well I don't know what you are implying but we are a perfectly normal happy family and I guess she just doesn't like it here.

The teacher said, well she's quite attached to me and often clings to me because she acts afraid of everyone else. Through my gritted teeth I smiled and said, well thank you for looking after her.

At that time, my daughter comes running up to me, tears in her eyes, screaming my name. The teacher (dumb) reached down to grab her instead of letting her run into me. My daughter cold cocked her across the face with her sippy cup and screamed NO!!!!!!! I was instantly mortified as the teacher passed her quickly along to me to which she grabbed my shirt and buried her face in my shoulder.

I had no idea what to say. As a rule, I normally don't apologize for my kids reactions or emotions because they aren't mine to apologize for. The teacher looked at me and said, well, see you next week, goodbye. And walked off. Rarely am I at a loss for words (which gets me in trouble) but I stood there dumb founded. I pulled my wet faced, snotty daughter off my shoulder and said, "Honey, you may NOT hit other people." She looked me right in the eye, smiled out of one corner of her mouth and said, "no tush" (no touch).

The girl likes her space...

I was wrong.

Dear You,

I was wrong. I hope you can accept this letter as an apology for my wrongness. When my friends were saying nasty things about you, I defended you. When they described you with such intensity, I criticized them for not being fair and hurtful. I'm here now to say, I'm sorry, they were right and I was wrong.

Your invitation was not specifically addressed. No where on it did it say "adults only" to your late afternoon wedding. I incorrectly assumed it would be ok to bring my children, who have names and are not "little ones", to your church service.

I would never bring my children to a reception, who wants knocked over centerpieces and food on the floor? But bringing them into the house of God to witness a union of two people, I never saw the harm. My kids are well behaved in public and any bad behavior is met with quick removal from the situation.

Your email was a shock to me this morning. 'Who are the other two you are bringing to the church and I hope it's not your children...' Who else would it be? That is why I marked 4 for church and 2 for reception. I thought I was being considerate letting you know they were coming and not taking them to your reception. Apparently not. Apparently, allowing my children to step foot in a church in Richmond Texas is not in Jesus's plan for your perfect marriage.

Children were present at the wedding in Cana, where Jesus preformed his miracle. There were also sheep and donkey's too. I suppose I shouldn't bring them either. Wooly and Ass will be horribly disappointed. God's union between his people and the church is our example of marriage, but in this case, I guess children aren't people.

Sorry that my children could have potentially ruined your precious day where all eyes are on you and you run the show. Please forgive me, I was wrong about you.

Thanks,

ME

Well no wonder

My kids barely nap at Mother's Day Out. My son does pretty decent, napping an hour, but he'll sleep anywhere anytime (to make up for all of his infancy). My daughter however, will sleep about 20-30 minutes if anything.

This lack of napping is one of the "cons" of putting both of them in Mother's Day Out. It makes the rest of the day difficult and bedtime is pretty nasty. But, in the end, it is worth it to have 5 hours of time to myself to go to the grocery store and run crazy errands super fast.

Today I figured out why they nap so poorly. I bought them super soft sleeping bags. We've practiced sleeping on them many times, they love them. I just always assumed it was the fact they were on the floor and not in a crib.

The real reason is that the teacher has lullaby music blasting at hair dryer volume in the room. The window shades are open so it's bright as day in there and...they don't change diapers post lunch OR take their shoes off!

I snuck in a little early today to grab the kids, because even in those short 5 hours to myself I can't wait to get my hands back on their cute little cheeks. I crept up to their room and was slammed in the face with a rock concert of sleepy music. Then I saw how bright it was in there. My daughter saw me instantly and jumped off the floor and ran to me. I was like HI BABY! How are yo....why are your shoes on???? Then her crying made my son wake up and he jumped up with his shoes on and a nasty dirty diaper.

I ushered the kids out of the room so I didn't wake up the other kids but what in the world! I didn't have time to talk to the room mom but I think this warrants a little "mom-a-tude". I mean, I know I can easily take naps with my radio blaring, with the windows open and my shoes on, in shitty britches....

Let them GO

At the park today I saw a large group of kids prowling about the grounds. It seemed to be lead by two big boys and then lots of little minions. They looked like they were having a great time. Hiding from each other, dashing in and out of the picnic bench area and almost all of them were carrying stick in their hands.

I love seeing kids at play. It makes my heart warm.

Today, my best friend from childhood was with me. We recalled days when we used to get on our bikes and GO. When I say go, I mean GO. For hours we would be gone riding all over the north Texas country side. We also talked about how we would walk a few miles to go to Braum's and play on the tennis court of the local high school.

But alas, just as most kid-type things these days it was spoiled. Not by bugs, not by weather, not by dinner time...their fun was spoiled by a mom who didn't like the mischief.

I guess kids can't be trusted these days and the small sign of independence these children were exuding was too much for her. She marched over to their pack and disbanded the union. Disappointed kids turned in opposite directions and they all dissipated back to an area of the park where their parents could stand over them every single second.

Where did I go.

Google, who has always been flawless in my eyes, messed up and the blog went for a joyride in cyberspace. It's back now, thank you google.

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This weekend I went on a girls trip for a friend's bachelorette party. I had a good 4.5 hour trip back home to sit all by myself, think and reflect. Sometimes this is not such a good thing for me because my head tends to go off into a million different directions at once.

My largest reflection was life. Not in a 18 year old entering college for a first time type of "life" revelation, but how my children have changed mine.

Besides the obvious, the largest impact they've had is PERSPECTIVE.

I see life through their eyes now. I see joy in everything. I see cause and effect. I see that people are good. People have different opinions. People. are. good.

Much to my un-liking there was some of what I call "trash talk" at this event. It didn't consume it but there was a good bit of it. Sitting around ranting about People. Talking shit about People. Bringing up other People's business. Name calling. Claw tearing. People bashing.

Years ago I would have been smack dab in the middle of it, listening, egging on, laughing. I now have zero use for it. There are so many things to talk about in life, why find joy in hurting others.

My days are centered around teaching my kids how to love, see love and be loved. I try to teach them that the world does not revolve around them and their opinions, but rather they should learn how to fit peacefully into the world. The lessons I teach them are rubbing off onto me.

People do things their own way, have their own personalities, have their own thoughts and private struggles. My children have changed me and for that I am forever grateful.

Great minds discuss ideas

Average minds discuss events

Small minds discuss people

Everytime I think I'm a grown up, I just wait a few years and it's shoved in my face how I still have so much further to go.

Hand on your hip and naked pictures

Have you noticed in almost all of the pictures taken of girls that are 10 years younger than us, their hands are on their hips? They even cock their hip bone out a little like a runway model. What is this? Where did this come from? I rate this obnoxiousness up there with bending down and putting your hands on your knees in a picture, when this cheerleader group pile ducking is unnecessary.

I decided yesterday that I could not run for a public office. Back when I was a senior in college (ie stupid and drunk) my friend needed to practice her photography skills. Who better to test them on than me! I'll get naked for anybody. Well, I used to get naked comfortably for anyone because back in the day I had fantastic boobs. Unfortunately now they are sad empty drooping sacks but we all know that comes along with the mom territory.

Anyway. Yes she took naked pictures, anything south of the equator was tastefully (oxymoron?) covered up with leg crossing or cropping. BUT that's not the stupid part. The stupid part was I was seeing this guy while Jason and I were being stubborn. Ya, he took one. At first I thought, oh wow, this guy likes me so much he wanted a naked picture of me. I'm so special. [Facepalm]. So it's out there. If I ever ran for public office it would surely end up on some social networking site and the controversy would cause me to back down from my seat.

C'est la vie...

I heart my friends.

Another fellow blogger friend (and real life friend) wrote a post on depression vs friendship. I'm so glad she wrote this post because while I didn't struggle with post-partum depression, I sure struggled with post-partum funk.

It's hard to be a mom, it's hard to be a new mom, it's really freaking hard to be a new mom with twins, it's really freaking super duper hard to be a new mom with twins that packs up and moves away to a crazy city where she knows no one and has no support system.

I struggled daily to get out of bed. Not necessarily out of unhappiness but out of utter exhaustion. Multiple times I fell asleep in the middle of the playroom floor with the kids propped up in bouncers wondering what the heck was going on with mom.

I don't think anyone but a new mom understands what it feels like to be trapped. I was trapped in my house and trapped by my exhaustion. Going to the grocery store at night when the kids were finally asleep was enough to make me dizzy by the time I got home.

I tried my best to keep in touch with friends, my close ones I succeeded but the not so close ones disappeared into the background. In a way, I'm glad for it because I became a better friend to those who knew how much work is involved in real friendships.

They were the ones who loved me and supported me through all trials of motherhood, sisterhood and my new neighborhood. I owe them tons. Just knowing they were able to be understanding and put themselves in my shoes means so much to me.

I'm so glad to be back in Texas where I feel physically closer to them and I know I can call and meet them for lunch (at least the two that live here in Dallas with me!).

Mucho hugs to all.

It's up to them.

"...For step one, you pull out a piece of paper and write on it, "How I Want My Children to Turn Out." Boyack points out that few people actually make parenting plans, which is silly considering all that we plan out in life...."

A fellow blogger friend of mine had a recent post about making parenting plans. At first glance I thought, hmmm, this may be a good idea. But the more I started to think about it, the more I didn't like it.

If you make a list of how you want your children to turn out, you would probably start with the obvious. Not a mass murderer, child pornographer or someone who listens to Creed. But, although you may have some biggies on top, you're are inevitably going to start putting more specifics. Play an instrument, volunteer regularly, grow their own vegetables etc. etc.

In my opinion, how our children turn out in the specifics is not your business. Planning on molding a child to your likings is not right or fair. What happens if they don't turn out like something on your list? Did you fail? Did your child fail you? Are you disappointed?

I have no desire to sit down and write a list out on "How I want my children to turn out". My children may even turn out hating me and living in a closed off apartment in SoHo, if that is what makes them happy, go for it.

Modern parenting has one major pitfall. In our quest to be the most perfect of parents we are way too involved in our child's upbringing. Helicopter parenting is responsible for creating the emerging society of "not my fault-ers" and "can't someone else do this for me-ers".

I hope my kids take off for Europe without me. I hope they have a secret boyfriend or girlfriend that I know nothing about, and even maybe have a diary or journal that no one ever sees.

It's more important to me that my kids know that I will love them no matter what. No Matter What. They're going to mess up, maybe even really bad but it's their life, not an extension of my own.

This is fucked up.

My great aunt hasn't been doing so well the past few months. She's diabetic and has lots of back problems. Additionally, her husband is fighting his way through end stage metastatic cancer. The last time I talked to my aunt she said she was going to hire a home health care nurse to come in and help them out because it was getting too tough on them

During the move from Miami back to Texas, I became quite self-involved. Moving is stressful, moving with kids is uber-stressful. I honestly had not noticed that I hadn't talked to my great aunt, to whom I talk to each week, in over 3 months.

A few days ago my mom called me and said that my grandmother has gone down to help take care of her sister because she is really really bad. Completely loopy, they think she's had a stroke, she's not even making sense when she talks. Apparently, my grandmother arrived to a disgustingly dirty house and two very very sick people.

My great uncle hadn't gotten off the couch in days and was in his own filth, the floor of their house was not even visible from clothes and trash, and my great aunt was sleeping for hours upon hours during the day barely getting up and in pain.

That night, my grandmother called 911 because my aunt was in trouble. They rushed her to the ER and had to pump her stomach. They thought she overdosed on her pain medication. After pumping her stomach and restarting her heart twice, they did an analysis of the contents. What was inside???

Ecstasy and rohypnol (the date rape drug). You may be asking yourself, where did your great aunt score such great drugs? Well, turns out that the home health care nurse has been STEALING THEIR PAIN MEDICATION AND FEEDING THEM CHEAP STREET DRUGS!!!! WTF PEOPLE!!!! So while my great aunt and uncle have been in pain and looped up on X, this bitch has been coming into their house each day, poisoning them with drugs and keeping them in a sedated state and quiet.

Being selfish, I first thought, oh my God...I've been so wrapped up in my life that maybe a few phone calls to my great aunt would have alerted me that something was wrong. How could I have been so careless to let that slip. After smacking myself upside the head, I'm pass that now and focusing on trying to find out how I can help.

I'm so scared for my grandmother right now because she is down there helping out on her own. What if this crazy drug lady comes in the middle of the night to get rid of the evidence? The police have already been notified and I wish I knew more about what is going on.

Interestingly, this nurse has been in jail on a felony count of drug possession and distribution. How the HELL did she get this kind of job?