Archive for the ‘The Bedmate’ Category

Devon is starting baseball…t-ball rather, on Monday, and at the insistence of both Mr. Wench and Wench-in-Law, she is getting cleats tomorrow, despite the coach saying she does not need them, as it is merely t-ball, not all-out baseball.

I mentioned that there was a study that cleats on children can contribute to ankle injuries. Mr. Wench rolled his eyes, and Wench in Law laughed. I went out to the car so I wouldn’t cry, and when Mr. Wench came out, she was still laughing. (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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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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Where I come from, the men do NOT act like this. The men where I grew up are, for the most part, not this chauvinistic.

It’s 11:30 on Saturday and I am relaxing, writing on my novel…you know, the one I always swear I’m going to finish one of these days…and this little gem of a conversation happens:
Him: What are you typing?
Me: Just a story…
Him: About what?
Me: You’d just laugh if I told you…
Him: What?
Me: It’s just a little story about a fairy…
Him: What about everything you said you wanted to do this weekend? (more…)

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Okay, so Harry Potter had a Cloak of Invisibility.

I want a cloak of visibility.

Mr. Wench and I have been having some issues since the passing of his step-dad. And understandably so.  They say that when a couple goes through any upheaval or major change, good or bad, there is bound to be some friction and adjustment issues. It’s very common for couples who are grieving together to lash out at each other. And no, I don’t know who *they* are. But I read that they say it a lot and that it’s perfectly normal. But lately I’ve been feeling invisible. (more…)

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