The worlds worst mother...

... is apparently ME!! I hate school. Who invented this crap??

Elizabeth's school has some screwy way of doing lunch. I am sure that it is to minimize allergies, but still, it sucks. There is a specific section of the cafeteria that is designated strictly for lunchbox kids. There is a shelf next to that section where the lunchbox kids put their sack lunches in the morning, and someone checks them to make sure that no contraband has made it's way into the school via Barbie softsides lunch tote, or in my daughter's case, a Hello Kitty metal lunchbox. By contraband I mean "cokes" or "candy"... complete no-no.

Anyway, of all the children in her school, Elizabeth had to make friends with Supermom's daughter. I met her (the mom) on the day that their class went to the fair. We walked around with our little redheaded daughters and chitchatted. She was SUPER DUPER nice. I really liked her a LOT. She is a stay at home mom to 4 kids... a 13 year-old, an 8 year old, a 5 year old and a 1 year old. All redheaded precious babies. She informed me that she gets up every morning at FOUR AM to get all her childrens lunches COOKED and packed, and their backpacks straightened up, and their clothes ironed. I flushed with shame as I recall EVERY morning at my house - Me, still in bed, hitting the snooze on the radio alarm because I am dreaming that I am a singer, or in a bar with Ty Pennington, or some such fun, until I finally open my eyes and realize that it is 30 minutes before we are supposed to leave. The rest of the morning is me running around, waking everyone up, telling Elizabeth to "hurry up!! we are going to be late!! Let me smell your breath... It's fine, just brush them twice tonight, we have got to GOOOOO!!!"

Boy, I can really get off the subject at hand... ANYWAY!! Haley's mother packs her a cooked lunch every day. Therefore, Haley eats at the lunchbox table with all the "cool" kids with good mothers. In my thinking, the school makes a healthy lunch, and it's a $1.25. And it is one less thing I have to do in the mornings. But how mean am I that I force my child to eat school lunches, and all her friends get to hang out together at the cool table. So we compromised. I told her that each Sunday, I would read her the menu, and she could decide which two days she wanted to take her lunch. Seems fair to me. (By the way, the two of you that read this, give me some input... what do you think? Am I being unfair? Is my daughter going to hate me because I made her eat the schools baked ham and green beans instead of lovingly making her a PB&J every morning????)

Well, so this week, I made her a sandwich, and I also packed a banana, some pretzels, and a container of yogurt. I hated to send a metal spoon that she would have to keep up with, so i dug out some of the plastic gerber tossaway baby spoons that I bought months ago for Colby and hated. This one was pink. TOO cute right?? What a nice mom to pack a cool pink spoon for her little girl. And when she is done, if she loses the spoon, no biggie. We still have a yellow one, a blue one, and a green one.

Wrong. On so many levels.

She came home and threw her lunchbox on the table. "Hey sis!! Did you have a good day?"

"NO!! Everyone made fun of me at lunch today!!"

"Why on earth would everyone make fun of you??"

Apparently when she opened her yogurt and started eating, one of the mean little shits in her class started laughing and said something to the effect of "Everybody look at the little BABY ELIZABETH eating her BABY FOOD with her little PINK BABY SPOON!! Does widdle Ewizabef need a bib??" and they all laughed (according to her the whole cafeteria) and pointed (Even the teachers, I am sure) and she was so embarressed that she wanted to cry, but then she knew they would really tease her for being a CRYBABY. And then her best friend Haley told them all to shut up or she was going to TELL. Good Old Haley. Bless her heart.

So now, I am not allowed to pack yogurt in her lunch unless its a GoGurt, and no spoons.

I feel sorry for my mom now. All those times when I would think, "Can she be so DUMB!!?? Doesn't she know what she is doing to me????" when she would buy me ugly clothes, or make me take advantage of the free lunches, even though it meant that i had to hang around the line until I could mix in with a free lunch group, because at OUR school, you had to pay by the day, so either you were cool and handed the cashier a dollar bill, or you were a free lunch reject like me and said, "Lastname, Natalie" and waited for 17 minutes while the little old lady searched for your name on the list, holding up the whole line... ugggg. Now I see, that my mother really didn't know what she was doing. And it makes me feel bad.

How do we keep up??? I thought I had all my bases covered!! What is the next thing that I will screw up for her???

I got tagged!!

(still no pics... *sigh*)
How fun!! I just read about tagging for the first time today on Tess's blog, and the next thing I know, my friends Kiki AND Angel both tagged ME!! Hooray!! I am cool! I am a real blogger!!

Three Random Facts About My Closet:
1. It was built well after the rest of this shitty house. We think someone built this house out of scraps of other peoples houses, and they made MANY mistakes. We joke that they got it completely built and they got completely moved in and then said "Ahhh, here we are!! Home sweet home!! I am hungry! Lets make some... oh fuck. We forgot to build a kitchen!!" (such a long story is the one about my World's Shittiest Kitchen... and it is not for today. Today is Closet day!!) I think the same goes for the closet. It is built out of leftover panelling, and it is about an inch too narrow for the plastic hangers, so everything hangs at an angle... and this is only random fact ONE... I bet you are all on pins and needles waiting for two and three!!!
2. It has crappy sliding panelling doors, so no cute over the door shoe rack for me.
3. Marty has one just like it, on the other side of the room.

Three Items I've Never Worn But Still Haven't Tossed:
1. I have a gorgeous black sparkley turtleneck sweater that I bought on clearance before i got preggo with Colby. I keep thinking every winter that I will get small enough to wear it to an office Christmas party... and don't.
2. My friend bought me a Raggedy Ann sweatshirt in a 2XL.... need i say more?
3. Some cute cute cute black linen wide leg pants with chocolate stripes that are a wee bit too long, and that I can't find anything to quite match. But I put them on all the time because I LOVE THEM.

Three Items I'll Never Get Rid Of, No Matter How Ugly They Get:
1. My high school class tshirt and boxer shorts (the boxers say "kiss our rear, we are outta here" and they are thin white boxers... and we wore them to school)
2. A pair of size 6 jeans from high school that I like to pull out and try to fit an ankle into just to make myself feel like a big fat loser. It's great fun!!
3. A shirt that my mom and elizabeth made for me when E was a year old. They spongepainted and wrote on it, and it is hideously beautiful.

Three Items People Wouldn't Expect To Find In My Closet:
1. Literally, ALL of my skeletons are in my closet!! LOL!! That is where i keep 9 years of journals, and all my photo albums.
2. Battery powered items... *ahem*
3. Balls. (those cedar mothball things, get your mind out of the gutter!!)

Three items that made me go, "Oh Lord, what was I thinking?":
1. A lowcut sundress... really lowcut.
2. A shirt that i bought in a 2x that is suede and beautiful... and is simply too big. I thought i could wear it like a jacket, but I can't pull it off. Looks like i borrowed something from a very stylish lumberjack.
3. those really really really tall clog-ey sandals

Three things that I have a surprising number of:
1. Jody Evans tshirts... LMAO!! (last count was 9... i am such a loser)
2. flipflops
3. buttonup shirts (I love to layer!)

Three dominate colors in my wardrobe:
1. Black
2. green
3. Is denim a color??

Three items that never fail to put me in a good mood whenever I wear them:
1. My favorite jeans. They are so cute that I like to pretend that they are RL or CK's... but they are really just awesome cute Faded Glory's. They also have developed a tiny tear in the rear... so sadly, their days are numbered... sob, sob!!
2. A black flow-ey shirt with black beading that I bought a few months ago... I really feel cute when i wear it because it fits just right everywhere.
3. My black sequin flip flops

Three people I will tag:
1. My cool friend Kellee
2. My cool friend Kylee
3. My cool Real Life friend Misty

Thanks for taggin' me, LT and Keeks!!!! *cybersmoochies to both of you!*

why am i so cranky??

*Comic courtesy of www.nataliedee.com

Are all women as mean and cranky as me? I spend half my time wanting to choke the life out of people that have no sense, and the other half wanting to choke the life out of the people who have sense, but have pissed me off. I have more or less infinite patience with my babies, but that is about it.

I was going to somewhat summarize this and tell you a few things that are going on, but it dawned on me that someones feelings would be hurt by every last thing I would name, because so many people have my blog address.

Generally?

* The Jody Picnic (julie, you know why.... grrrr!! Will you help me choke her??)
* The May Mom's Conference (sorry if that makes anyone mad, but it is pissing me off...)
* The Pillsbury Dough Boy and that godforsaken microwave. His stupid roaring and beeping have gotten me almost caught about 57 times today
* Scrapbooks and the people who invented them
* BEING CHUBBY (i can admit that here)
* Walking 5 miles a day, and pulling 70#'s of children in a wagon for 3 of those 5 miles, and still being FAT
* Being poor and fat
* The woman at the office that keeps telling me that colby is never going to walk if i don't force him to... what do you want me to do, tape nails to his knees????? Put him in a walker and tie him to the bumper of the car???
* My friend Tasha is coming to spend the night tonight with her kids, (YAY!) and I asked my marty to please clean up a little... I have called him twice today, and woke his lazy ass up both times. Somehow, i don't think things will be clean.
* HOW HARD IS IT TO LEARN A 3-LINE PHONE SYSTEM?????????????????? Our new receptionist has been here 9 weeks and still has not figured it out. She makes me want to choke her on a regular hourly basis. Plus she is CONSTANTLY barging in my office. I want to scream at her, "A CLOSED DOOR IS GENERALLY CLOSED FOR A REASON!!" If I were brave, I would get buttass naked and sit in my chair with a corkscrew, a picture of Sally Field, and a package of frozen spinach and just wait gleefully for her to barge in and teach her a damn lesson about knocking, but I am not brave. Nor do I wish for anyone in my office to see me naked.

Speaking of office nakedness, I have been walking (as i mentioned) every day. I walk 2 miles before work in the morning, and three in the evening with the kiddos. I obviously do not wear my dress and heels to walk the trail before work, so I have to change clothes once i get here. That is a really weird feeling, being naked at the office. Just thought I would share.

Seriously, am i really the only cranky bitch in the world?? How do you girls do it, focus on the rainbows and sunshine and flowers and puppies?? Or are you just better at hiding it??

widdlebiddycolbywolby

I miss my bub today. He woke up in the best mood this morning, laughing and being a goof. The whole way to drop E at school, he babbled loudly in his germanesque language, and E pretended to converse with him.

"Gawwlo garkel bgobbo pluguolig mawgog! HEY!"

"Really Colby?? That is so funny!!"

"mowgow gogggog mogog!" laugh, laugh, laugh.

"Oh, I will miss you too, but when we get home, we can play polly pockets!"

"ggerrgger mockobog sallogog moocko"

"You are so silly, Colby."

Then when she got out of the car and headed up the stairs, he shouted after her, "HEY! HEY!!Gallowgog mogok HEY!" I like to think he was telling her to be careful on the playground, and to have fun. And not to forget his popcorn. Fridays are popcorn days at her school, and she always brings Colby some popcorn leftovers. I swear he can smell the bag when she gets off the bus.

Then I had to take him to the fire station and drop him with Marty, who went off duty at 7:30. Colby talked the whole way there, and then squealed with delight when I got him out of the car. He does this thing now where he lays his cheek on my lips repeatedly to receive kisses... but he does not give them. (He is practicing to be royalty.) So we did that for about 5 minutes, and then I handed him to his dad. He gave me the "i can't believe you are going to leave me, i have been so good this morning! don't you love me??" look, and burst into tears. He reached for me over Marty's shoulder, crying his little heart out. And I was already late for work, so there was nothing I could do but get back in the car and drive away, his little sobs ringing in my ears.

And now I have sat at my desk for over an hour, doing nothing, but wishing I were at home with my bubbaroo.

Crapbooking

(subtitled, "A really crappy blog please forgive me but i am trying to get back into the swing of things, and its not been my week much, and I may need a therapist.")

We are having a big picnic for my friend Jody this weekend, and are expecting about 75 people. Great. Right as the hurricane rain and wind hits Arkansas. And our picnic is outside. We paid $50 for the pavilion.

And not only that, we had the bright idea of making Jody a scrapbook. Each of us does a page for each family member (and i am doing a few extras with some old yearbook photos) and we put it all into a binder when we get to the picnic and present it to Jody. Or in this case, since he is not going to be able to make it after all, to Jody's mother.

One problem: I have never scrapbooked. I have the paper, and I have some stickers that I bought last night, (nothing like being prepared!!) but I have not printed any pictures, and my printer is out of commission, and my office printer does not print color. Things are really not going my way. Maybe I should just write a letter and stick stickers all over the page like I am back in third grade again. Either way, I was bitching to my friend Jen, who has also not started her page, and she said the scrapbooking is turning into crapbooking, and that totally cracked me up.

Elizabeth's page is going to be really cute. She drew a picture of herself playing the piano, and Jody playing the guitar, and I am printing off a picture of her and Jody, and I am also printing off this letter that she posted on the Jody board:

dear jody
i think your songs are real great. i like hey diary what does she think about me the best.
i love you
tell ericajo hi
i hope you like all your letters
i love you
love
elizabeth adair
i am 5 years old.

How cute is that??? She even typed it herself. I have always let her play on the computer, and she can even send emails now. However, I let Colby bang around on here and he deleted all my desktop icons, and sent every last picture in my album to the recycle bin.

Boys are so destructive.

In other news, I got new hair last night. I have not decided if I like it or not, but I did have 4 people ask me today when i got the new green contacts. HAHA!! The new hair is D A R K....

What is it about hair?? I feel like I completely change personalities with my hair color. I feel young and hip with my blond highlights... i feel a little old and frumpy with this darker hair. I swear I have wrinkles now that i didn't have last night.

And Colby got a supershort haircut. I don't want to talk about that though. I still want to cry when i look at him. My dad said, "Why don't we get rid of this mess on top? It's too long!" and I thought he was joking.

Don't ever joke with a man that is cutting your baby's hair.

you are getting verrrrrryyyyy sleepy.....

*cartoon courtesy of www.toothpastefordinner.com. Check them out, hilarious!!

One of the girls mentioned something the other day about needing people to like her when she was younger, and finally overcoming it... and I thought, "We are supposed to overcome that?" I have a very hard time with people not liking me. It's ok if you aren't nuts about me, or don't know me that well, but to actively DISLIKE me makes me nuts. If you are going to do it, that is fine, just don't let me find out about it.

When I find out that someone does not like me, (and more and more are coming to light) I first have the initial... "WHAT?? WHY??? WHAT DID I DO???" few days, and then I get mad, and it's, "THAT'S FINE!! I never liked her either!!" and then it turns to, "Wonder what I could do to make them like me..." and before you know it, I am your own personal stalker.

How do other people get to NOT be this way?? I seriously can't understand people that refer to a group of people with "Oh, they hate me. Whatever!! LALALALA!!" and go about their business. That goes hand in hand with people who say, "Oh jeez! My head hurts. What? It's wednesday! NO WONDER... I forgot to eat!!" SHUT UP!! I am already planning dinner while eating lunch.

I think I need a therapist.

remembering allie...

Hard to believe it has been a year since Allie left us. Hard to believe that a tiny baby girl that most of us never met had such an impact on so many of us. I remember the hardest thing for me was after we got notice that she had passed, there was a link posted to the news story of her death. I was in my office at work, and clicked on it and heard the news reporter announce that she had died, and then they switched to a clip from a few months back of Allie in the hospital. After watching the clip, I burst into tears just sitting at my desk. All these many months of following the story, and seeing the pictures did not prepare me for her video. She was just a baby. Just a little baby, not walking, not talking. I was not prepared for her baby-ness. I wish she could have been one to make it. I wish they all could make it.

Links:
Scotthousehold.com
Heroes for Children

MD Anderson Cancer Center
MD Andersons Childrens Art Project - LOVE LOVE LOVE their stuff!!
St. Judes

Pageant photos

I tried to just add these as a link, but I am linkaddchallenged apparently, so here are some photos from the pageant!!

My little dark horse

A few weeks ago, my 5 year old daughter came to me after school and said, "Mom, I want to be in a pageant." I used my standard response: "away, I wish you could honey, but they don't have pageants in Arkansas." Yes, it's a huge lie. Right up there with,"People in Texas don't wear cowboy hats." So what? We lie about Santa, too. This was not any different. "Well, Hayley Z. said that the fair pageant is in three weeks and you said the fair was coming, so I want to be in the fair pageant."

Damn schools. Pageant Peer Pressure. Who knew it would start this soon?

So, I did the old, "We'll see." and waited until she went to bed and then talked to everyone I knew about it.

You see, I have to admit something here.

I am anti-pageant. I am also anti-cheerleading, and anti-homecoming, and pretty much any other thing overtly girly. I am pageant prejudiced. Until I birthed Tiny Miss America out of my womb, I was the woman making snide comments when the paper came out announcing the pageant contestants / winners. I, along with friends of mine, (you know who you are!!) would poke fun at them when they rode in the parade, waving from the back of a rusty pickup truck, body glitter expertly applied, teeth vasilened up, crown hot glued to their hair... see, I am doing it again!

So, I asked around. Everyone that knows Elizabeth personally just insisted that this was something she HAD to do. (We actually talked about this last year, and one of Marty's friends has a little girl that does pageants, and I called her to talk about what all pageants entail and she told me not to bother because if Elizabeth was not starting out until she was 4 years old, it would just be a waste of everyone's time. Uh... bite me!) I was still unsure, until I had two different businesses step forward to sponsor her... shit, I was stuck then!

So we went a couple of weeks ago to try on dresses. I was edgy, cranky. Girls like me do not go into pageant shops. When I went shopping for my prom dress 40 years ago, a saleslady in one of the dress shops was so rude to me that I left in tears. I never again stepped into a dress shop. Until two weeks ago.

There was so much pink and ruffles and Austrian crystals that I thought I might throw up. Cutesy overload. Fluffamopicalgia, in medical terms. I was afraid to touch anything. I stood there, in the threshold, trying to decide how I ended up in this hell, when a tiny voice beside me said breathlessly, "Momma, what size do I need?" I looked down at Elizabeth, and she is flushed with joy. Her eyes are shining, and she is grinning from ear to ear. And it hits me all at once. This is a homecoming for her. All these years with a mom that rarely wears makeup, a dad that only cares about fishing and boats, and a brother that likes to wipe his foot on her head, and she finally found the place where she belongs. We fight every single morning because she wants to wear a dress every single day. I can't understand why she can't wear the jeans and sweaters and combat boots that I buy her... and she can't understand why I don't want to wear a dress and heels every day. But in that dress shop, she has found her niche.

So we start looking for dresses. We grabbed a handful of size 6's, but after we try on a few, we realize that the great size coverup really does exist in the pageant and bridal world. The 6's are falling off of her. We had to get 4's, which she has not worn in almost 2 years. We try on at least 30 dresses, and she has squealed with delight over each one. The saleslady is EXTREMELY helpful and kind to us. We finally narrowed it down to two dresses: a beautiful melon colored dress and an equally beautiful black one. The melon one is twice the price of the black, but since someone else was paying, it really was not an issue. But we just could not make a decision.

Until the saleslady said, "Maybe we could look at some shoes..." and brings out two pair. A gold pair for the melon dress, and a black pair. But oh! these are not just simple black shoes!! They have heels, and in the heels are water and floating around happily in the water are FISH! I wanted a pair in my size! And like that, the decision was made. The saleslady wrapped up the black dress and sent us on our way.

The pageant was yesterday. I finally see why people say pageants are hard work. Rehearsals were at noon and lasted until 1:30. Then we had to head to my aunts house to have hair, makeup and nails done... and that took three hours. And in the meantime, I was hauling around a 30+ pound cranky toddler, who was not one bit amused with the pageant process.

We get to the auditorium and head backstage to sit with the other girls. All the years of making fun of pageant moms and their little princesses make me feel like I have stepped through the looking glass. I expected to see girls begging to just put on their shorts and tank tops and go out and play baseball. It is what I would have wanted at their age. I expected to see mothers spanking their daughters with hair brushes and coathangers and screeching at them through clenched teeth to "get out there and smile like your life flipping depends on it!!!"

But instead, there were 12 little girls admiring each others dresses and talking about school while prancing around and making their curls bounce. Their exhausted mothers sat around and talked about work, and about their husbands, and about their other kids. What??? Where is the pageant drama?? Where is the mother secretly pouring bleach all over the competitions dress? Where are the cat fights? Where are the tears? The cross words? Threats? Gossip?? Oh wait, there was gossip. It just was not about the pageant. I am stunned. Seriously. S T U N N E D.

They kick us all out about 20 minutes to show time. I head out into the auditorium to find the rest of my family. They are sitting on the left side, near the middle. I am kind of annoyed that they didn't try to get closer, because now I am going to have to jump all around trying to get pictures.

The lights come down, and the former Miss Arkansas, Jessie Ward steps out. She is our emcee, and seems really nice. She gives her little speech and it all gets underway.

Elizabeth was #11, and floored me with her grace, her eagerness. She shows no fear, keeps smiling and stands straight, even though I have not trained her at all... hell, I wouldn't know how! She comes out for her turn in the "introduction" segment and struts right up to the microphone and clearly announces, "HI! I am Elizabeth!" stops, poses, and heads backstage. During her interview, Miss Ward asks her "Elizabeth, what do you want to be when you grow up?" all the other girls have said "teacher" or "doctor" or in one precious instance, "a dog helper"... my little baby says, "I would like to be an artist, because I love to draw!" Excuse me, I need to go hug her.

Now, all along I have said, "This is all just for fun. There is no way she is going to even come close to winning, especially considering this is her first pageant." But now, as the girls line up one final time, I realize that she DOES have a chance. She really did good! And believe it or not, Miss Ward announced, "And our second runner up is.... ELIZABETH ADAIR!!" And the crowd goes wild! She stood up there clutching that trophy like someone was going to rip it from her teeny hands. She was so proud of herself. And we are all so proud of her.

I hope you fancy my blog

I want to be English. Like from England. I don't necessarily want to LIVE in England, I love America and all it stands for and I can't hear the Star Spangled Banner without tearing up, but I just want the English dialect.

I was watching some show with Marty (that I will never admit to watching) yesterday, and there were a ton of English children, (and what is the difference in English and British? Is there one? I am HORRID at geography.) and they were all talking and laughing and joking in their little English schoolchildren outfits and Marty looks over and said "Don't say it." I started laughing and said "Don't say what?" and He said "Don't say you bloody wish you were a bloody Englishwoman."

I also found this site of London Slang today, and I have laughed my butt off. I intend on using some of the more "G Rated" phrases in my day-to-day speech. BE FOREWARNED, this site is not for the faint of eye. Some of it is pretty darn nasty. But, I have a wicked sense of humor.

(Just in case anyone is interested, not that anyone would be, Panty Hamster is actually slang in London for the vagina...hmm)

And while we are on the subject of dialect and such, I have a complaint. WHY do people, in typing, abbreviate words that do not need to be abbreviated?? I HATE the cutesy spelling that people use. DO NOT use cutesy spelling after you turn 12 years old. It is no longer cute.

For instance, I hit a post today where the woman (a mother for heavens sake) said that she "...has had a few bad dayz. Some dayz are better than other dayz, but..." (I am actually paraphrasing... or... well lying I guess. I don't know what she said because her cutesy dayz made me have a ministroke.

IS it THAT much harder to type it correctly? In fact, to me, it seems HARDER to add that "Z" at the end than it would be to just type the damn "S"... The "S" is a homerow key. Your finger is already resting on it. TYPE THE "S"... You can do it....

My dear husband is one of the worst typers in the world. I accept his bad typing ability, but wish he would try harder to improve it. He has never in his life, ever, typed "the"... it is always and forever "Teh". He also belongs to a bulletin board based out of Louisiana. (No disrespect to Louisianaians) and they all talk "cajun" on that board. This makes me insane. He will email me and try to talk cajun in his emails and I refuse to reply. I generally send him a message that says "If my husband Marty - from Arkansas, not from Louisiana, and who does not eat gumbo, nor has ever seen an alligator outside of the zoo, much less wrestled one - has a question, please have him email me."

He will type "Dayum" instead of "Damn". WHY??? DAMN is shorter!! And "Shore" instead of "Sure". AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!! That makes me crazy!!

O Well. Tlk 2 u l8r. Got 2 rn.

Weighty issues... again.

I am at my wits end here. I am literally without the tools to deal with the problem at hand.

If you had asked me 7 years ago what child related issue I was worried about the LEAST, I would have said weight prejudice. I have always been chubby, and Marty has always been too skinny. We have now met in the middle - I am still a bit chubby, and he is a bit thin. But when we got married, (ten years ago) I was 5'3 and weighed 180, and he was 6'4 and weighed 155. I am not kidding. We were Mr. and Mrs. Jack Sprat. Times are better now. He weighs quite a bit more than me. LOL!

My point is that "fat" and "skinny" aren't words we use around our house. I say "fuck" more than I say "fat". We both grew up with the teasing, but from different angles. We eat healthy foods most of the time. Marty has a sweet tooth and hides junk all over the house, but I do not go looking for it. Elizabeth has inherited the tooth. But we are active. We are healthy. And I really am pretty happy with the way I look most of the time. And when I am not, I don't voice it. I never look in the mirror and groan.

My precious little almost-6-year-old child. She is going through a spell where we cannot get her to eat. She is underweight for her height, and we are concerned. Unfortunately we deal with that in different ways. Marty's way is to yell at her to eat or she is not going to get to [blank]. Tonight it was "go for a walk with Mom and Colby" I now walk instead of smoking. My way is to say "What is the best tasting thing on your plate? Can you eat more of that?" (This leads to negotiations - "How many more bites? 5?") Which is probably not any better. But we don't know what to do. The mantra "She will eat when she gets hungry" means nothing in our family. I have seen her go days on half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and 5 goldfish crackers.

Right before her bedtime tonight, I said, "Do you want to help me make some brownies to take to Meme's tomorrow?" and she said "Nope."

"NOPE?!?!! You don't want to help me make brownies? Are you sick?" I tickled her and pretended to check her temperature.

"Nope, I am just not eating chocolate anymore."

(Is that the sky falling?)

"YOU aren't eating chocolate anymore? Why?"

"Because chocolate makes you fat. You don't need to eat it anymore either, because you need to get skinny like me so you can wear a bikini."

(Yep, thats the sky. Someone help me, I have ozone in my eye)

I try to say the right thing. TRY.

"I like chocolate! I think I am pretty just the way I am, and I can wear a bikini if I want to! Now, I am going to go make those brownies! Come help me!"

"MOM! You don't need to eat brownies! Dad will like you better if you were skinny." She is pleading with me. Pleading.

WWWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAATTTTTTTTTTTT?????

Are they teaching this shit in kindergarten or what?? I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!!!

Am I going to be that mother with the anorexic daughter, saying "I just thought she was food conscious!" Am I going to be the movie of the week????

I don't know how to change this. I don't know where we went wrong.

I guess she is embarrassed of me. I can handle that. I think we are all embarressed of our moms in one way or another. I can't handle her becoming the next Tracey Gold.

I am helpless. How can a five year old child make me feel so helpless?

I am late on my blogging for relief. I was home with two sick babies yesterday. And what a luxury it was!

I sat in my nice cool house, watching Blue's Clue's and The Fairly Oddparents.We cuddled up on the couch with blankets, hot little faces all smooshed together. We had three different lunches to appease three different tastes. Something I don't normally do, but I felt like being extra sweet to these fever ridden babies. I can't seem to do anything to help the world.

How horrid to be stuck in New Orleans right now. To have sick children and no way to help them. No bed to put them in. No soft blankey to tuck around their little trembly chins. No tylenol liquid for the baby, no tylenol soft chews for the little girl that is too big for "baby medicine". No water. No food. No roof. Overwhelming fear of being shot or raped or having your children shot or raped. And we are in America. How can this be????

During 9/11, we had somewhere to put our anger. This time, where does it go?

I love Matt Lauer. I really do. But this morning in talking about Katrina, he said something to the effect of that the hurricane has really opened people's eyes that there are so many people living in squalor and poverty in this country.

Well, no fricking shit. If people couldn't see that, then this all really is a big shock to them. That is why so many people in America are angry. We are paying to rebuild Iraq, a country that we helped tear apart, and there are people starving and dying right here in America. Not just a few people, not just homeless drug addicts. People like you and me. And daily, people are losing their homes, their jobs, their lives. I won't say that people don't care until something like this happens, but it is much easier for the general public to ignore.

We are all gripped with the feeling of helplessness. These images we are seeing cannot be from America. It is absolutely horrific what is happening only a few miles from my air conditioned, cozy home.

I have chosen the Red Cross - Mississippi Gulf Coast Chapter as my charity. Please donate. If not to them, then to someone else on this list.

Additional Links:
hurricane katrina
flood aid
Glen's Roundup Post