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Archive for February, 2011

I cannot do this. I cannot wake up at 7 am every morning feeling like I’m about to puke my guts up, wrangle my children into clothing, wrestle their hair into ponytails and other cute girly styles, get myself all together and shiz, drop Devon off for the bus, drop Nadine off at her Nana’s, and go to work fighting that horrid *urp*-like feeling I get in the back of my throat. I cannot sit at a desk and be a good little corporate whore when I just want to barf on anyone who looks at me funny. (more…)

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They say that every time a life ends, a new one is begun…

Can't argue with three positives.

Yes, Mr. Wench and I are expecting our third child. Pray for a safe, healthy pregnancy, a smooth labor and delivery, and a perfect, beautiful baby. With a penis. I want a boy.

As long as he/she is healthy, it’s not that important. I won’t be mad if I have another girl, but gosh and golly I really want a boy to even things out.

Our beautiful little blessing’s first evidence of existence…he/she is just what we need to bring us out of the dying season…A little beacon of hope and love.

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So my last post did have some humor in it, but this post, probably not so much, as it deals with a very sensitive topic: death.

One of my Achilles’ heels as a mother is shielding my children from hurt. When they are hurt physically, my heart aches, but I can usually Dr. Mom them all better with a band-aid and a kiss. But when they are hurting emotionally, I can’t take that away. There is nothing I can do to ease the pain except love them and hold them while they cry.

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I am many things in this life, but first and foremost, I am a mother. I love my children with all my heart and would gladly take a bullet for them. That being said, I am also a very light-hearted mom. I take most things in stride, and I will crack a good joke about motherhood.

Case in point: Nadine is in a very repetitious stage. Everything is repeated ad nauseum, to the point that I begin to think that I’d prefer to listen to a broken record. One night she was going on and on about this fricking Barbie that she wants. And I posted this little gem on Facebook: “I wish I had a mute button for my 2 1/2 year old chatterbox”. (more…)

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As I have been cleaning, the children have been right behind me un-cleaning.

Mr. Wench has been no help at all. And after a long day of cleaning, I did not feel like cooking. I was more than content to throw a pizza in the oven and have done with it, but noooo. Mr. Wench wants a home cooked meal. I attempt to start making spaghetti sauce for spaghetti, and he says he’s tired of spaghetti, that I make it all the time….except, I don’t. Why? (more…)

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So today was is a big cleaning day for me. I have been wiping down the walls, the baseboards, I moved the couch to vaccum, vaccumed out the vents and removed the vent covers and washed them.

I asked Mr. Wench for one thing…one thing, the only thing I have asked him to do today…keep Devon and Nadine out of my hair. What is Mr. Wench doing? Sitting on the computer watching videos and looking at guitars. What are the children doing? Exactly the opposite of what I asked them to do. I asked them to pick up their toys and play in their rooms, and to stay out of my filthy whore of a kitchen. They are currently sitting at the kitchen table, coloring and playing games. My floor is yucky. I want to clean it. This involves chemicals. God knows all the dust I’ve already stirred up is wrecking havoc on my allergies…I wanted my children to not have to deal with that. (more…)

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Mr. Wench and I came home tonight to find a holly cutting had mysteriously appeared on our doorstep. It had to have been placed there, as the wind direction and the layout of our home and carport would not have allowed for the holly to just randomly ramble on in.

My inner Wiccan, long dormant but always on the lookout, squeed in delight. Holly is a sacred tree, and denotes, among other things, protection, material gain, luck, strength, and symbolizes good will and everlasting life. It is bad luck to cut down a rooted holly bush/tree. (more…)

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