| Toni 的个人资料FIGHTING INSANITY照片日志列表 |  工具  帮助 |
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5月30日 No Time! Real fast:
Company came yesterday. They're sleeping. Mia insists on making as much noise as she possibly can. Cheyenne's trying her best to keep her occupied for a few minutes so I can update. It's not easy.
The party went surprisingly well. Actually it was wonderful. No fights broke out, no one cried, no one wanted to go home. Caleb and I stayed up until 2:00 a.m waiting for them to pass out, but 2 didn't go to sleep until about 4:00. Talk about tired the next day.
The pots were a big hit with the girls and their parents. We planted some beautiful purple pansies in them the next morning. I highly recommend this birthday activity.
Cheyenne totally made out like a bandit--the girl has like $200.00. I never, in all my 26 years, have gotten that much cash on my birthday.
I feel the need to tell you all about this one girl that came to the party. I was just touched by her. She was quiet, her hair looked like it hadn't been combed in forever, she wore her day clothes to sleep in, and kept them on the next day. Her parents don't make very much money--which is fine--Cheyenne is very good friends with this girl and simply wanted her to be here, present or none.
Anyway, the point: The girl gave Cheyenne many, many things that she said were brand new--one of which was something everyone else recognized as a gift their teacher had given her 2 days earlier...she insisted it wasn't...I felt bad for her. At that age, anything your teacher gives you at the end of school is gold. To give it away 2 days later...that's a big-hearted gift if you ask me. Anyone can have their mom pick up the latest movie at Wal-mart, or stick a $20 in a card...but this girl gave Cheyenne a bag full of things that must have been extremely special to her. That's just the greatest gift of all. What a sweetheart.
I'm sorry to all you guys out there that I haven't checked on in a while. I will try to make the rounds soon, and I will try to blog a little more regularly...I've been "tagged" (Dang it!) so expect an entry about my innermost desires. Yea!
If you come here and don't see anything new, check out my sidebars full of really cool people. I just love reading their spaces. The short description I gave each one doesn't begin to describe how very interesting these folks really are.
Alright, I'm out cubscout. 5月27日 Where do I begin? Many, many, many many things going on. Will now revert to list form to explain:
If I think of anything else, I'll write it...but I'm definitely going to busy the next couple weeks. I'll try to pop in at your spaces, but if it takes me a little while, don't think I'm ignoring you. And let me just say that reading everybody's blogs, and exchanging comments--it's so fun, and it makes me so happy. So thank you guys. And have a fabulous weekend! 5月23日 VANITYI realize that people do care about weight loss/ being in shape/ healthy eating habits. So do I--I'm not bashing that. I also realize that it's just not that easy for some. I'm just commenting on how it seems so many people are going crazy with the dieting and exercise to achieve that "celebrity" level of physical perfection...it's all they think about, and when it doesn't happen for them, they feel ugly and awkward and inadequate...I'm guilty of it, too, though, but this is just me ranting and raving. Gotta do it every once in a while. ~Toni
Looking back, maybe I could've prevented it.
This whole thing.
This rant. It was probably my own fault.
Maybe my shoes were too hot pink.
Maybe if my hair wasn't so greasy, it wouldn't have shined so in the sunlight.
Maybe I caught his eye with my "I'm a hot and sweaty mamma-jamma pushing a stroller uphill in 90 degree weather--don't talk to me" attitude. Whatever possessed that nasty construction worker to yell out to me--rather enthusiastically I might add--this afternoon on my walk with Mia, I will never really know.
Normally, I'm too busy huffing and puffing and wishing I were home eating chocolate instead of participating in this form of self-torture known as exercise, but today, the utter uniqueness of this comment caught me off guard:
"I bet you could hold me upside-down if you wanted to!"
I'm still a little baffled--what the hell did that mean?
I couldn't help but laugh. What creativity!
In all actuallity, I should be upset. I am not the type of girl to get blatantly hit on, especially when I'm looking less than my best. And I'm what you would call a little short for my weight. So I'm quite sure this guy was messing with me. Unless he had really poor eyesight--in which case maybe he should hold off on buying his precious Skoal for a while and save up for a pair of glasses. Then he wouldn't have mistaken the layer of back-fat I got goin' on for rippling muscles...
I could've settled for "Hey, nice legs!" or even the generic, all-purpose whistle. Or anything less confusing than that upside-down line.
All of this went down about 10 minutes into my hour-long walk, so unfortunately, I had plenty of pondering time left before I made it back to the house. Rather than get myself worked up over the Joe-Dirt-On-Steriods (and when I say "on steriods", I mean only the mullet was longer and the teeth were fewer), I became enraged about the diet fads and workout crazes of today.
I get so tired, and literally so sick, of the words "trans" and "anti-oxidants" and "organic" and, my personal unfavorite, "bad carbs vs. good carbs". I want to be as healthy as the next person, but not to the point of where I can't enjoy a good peanut-butter and sprinkles sandwich every now and then. The way I see it, I should be able to exercise regularly and eat what I want to eat, within reason, of course, and my body will be what it is meant to be.
If I have a little underarm jiggle, well, then I have a little underarm jiggle. If my bootie doesn't fit into a size 5, I'm not going to cry. It's not like I'm a freak because I'm not a Jessica Simpson clone, and I'm not going to work like a madman to get there. I don't want to be one of those people that knows the scientific name of every muscle of the body and won't rest until each one is fully developed and perfected. I've never met a spendidly happy dieting/workout monster.
I'm not encouraging anyone to chow down on a bag of Double-stuffed Oreos every night for 3 weeks. I'm just saying that it's probably okay to have a little pasta, or eat a little yogurt--it's not going to kill you. Like my friend INKA said, "I'm so over trying to be a toothpick." Yeah, me too.
I'd love to see magazine headlines with words like "Kind" or "Thoughtful" more often, rather than "Gorgeous" and "Sexy". What are my girls going to get from that?
Must. Remember. Inner beauty.
Alright. I'm done.
This message was brought to you by the brick-laying, off-the-charts-Redneck working in my neighborhood today. Thank you, thank you.
And yes, I most likely could hold you upside-down if I wanted to. 5月22日 When Animals attack...or, more appropriately, When Birds Make Nests Birds do not understand the concept of safety. At all. Whatsoever. At least not Oklahomaian birds...freakin' uneducated country bumpkin birds...
I can only assume these are the same birds that previously resided in the lid of our big white monster of a propane tank--but then, all birds look the same to me. They've decided to build a nest on a 1/2 inch ledge near our front door, using classic materials like leaves, twigs, and hair. If they had some lumber, a few screws, and a drill, this dream home of theirs might be feasible.
I can't think of another word to say about this. I can only shake my head and sigh at the sheer stupidity of these animals--stupidity that I assumed instinct would override at some point in time. It's just not happening.
Maybe I'll take this opportunity to discuss the wildlife of this place called "the prairie"...which is, I think, a really pretty word for "the wide-open middle of nowhere"... I'm like freakin' Jeff Corwin around here.
In addition, we have fireants, falcons, rattlesnakes, and tarantulas. But had I physically seen the last two, I would not be here typing because I would've died of fright right on the spot. Either that, or I would've crapped my pants and died of embarrassment--one way or the other, it wouldn't have been good for me in the end. And so that's it, unless you count the armadillos/skunks/rabbits/turtles that you see dead on the side of the road. But you can find that sort of thing anywhere. 5月20日 Still Waiting... OOOO....
I am so mad.
For no reason.
What--what?
You got a problem, pal?
Alright. Now that we got that out of the way, I can get down to business and write about what I really came here to write about--my protegee, Britney Spears. Now, I've been watching and I've noticed that she's not yet followed my lead and chopped off her nasty, dried-out mop, but I know she'll make the right decision soon. She could use a little soccer-mommy pizzazz here lately.
Is anyone else around here a little bit worried about losing custody of their children, what with the big deal the media has been making about Britney's parenting skills? Honestly.
NOTE: I am not a hard-core fan of Britney Spears. I just read this crap on MSN and I start thinking, if she does have stooges on my tail, watching my every move, then I'm in trouble, because I've messed up WAAAAY more than she has. And, yeah, I built that LEGO house. Self taught, no lessons! 5月18日 Coffee and Cold Pizza I am in a complete and utter FUNK today--I won't go into the reasons why, and this time, I do actually know the reasons why--but I am trying to work myself out of it by walking, painting, blogging, and, my personal favorite, binging on coffee and cold pizza. Good stuff.
The flower painting I had originally started for my sister now informs me that it will be hanging on my bedroom wall, if I would hurry up and finish him. I gave him the option of parading himself around at a friend's house, and he's thinking about it, so we'll see where he winds up. He's got a little brother on the way, and that bad boy is for sure headed to my sister, A.S.A.P. I refer to these paintings in people form because they are like my babies--whether they turn out good or bad, they will always be beautiful and special to me.
After spending $1000 plus at the vet's office the past couple weeks, we've finally managed to get ALL 3 DOGS to stop scratching, at least for the most part. Stupid mutts and their stupid allergies which causes their stupid infections...
I'm getting Cheyenne's kick-ass birthday party all planned out--yesterday I bought these wicked awesome invitations at Hobby Lobby--you know, the kind you print out yourself on a home computer? I'm extremely proud of them and am a little upset that I won't be getting one in the mail like all the other little 10 year old girls we invited to the (slumber) party. I set the limit to 4, and Cheyenne immediately pushed it to 5...so I'll have a group of giggly, rowdy girls running around the house next Saturday night. Mia ought to get a kick out of that.
Cheyenne had the idea of letting everyone paint ceramic pots and planting these sweet mini-hibiscus-looking plants in them for their party treats. My kid can come up with some damn cool ideas. She asked me if I would personalize the girls' pots with my fabulous handwriting...I am so honored. Now I just have to fit in shopping for this blessed event sometime in the few days.
Well, that's the rundown of my life this week. Gonna get back to the painting--so I can put him on the wall and shut him up for good...I don't treat my real babies like that. 5月16日 Dance, Monkey, Dance! Oh, the joys of having company, and the emotional upset that comes with their departure.
This past weekend INKA and her boyfriend Mike came to our house to feed us, clean up after us, watch our children, listen to our idiodic ramblings, and generally provide us with loads of entertainment. It was a great visit.
They arrived late Friday night after a long day at the office and an even longer day on a plane. We forced them to stay up and eat and tell jokes with us until almost midnight. Then we sent them off to bed in Cheyenne's sweet hawaiian-themed room.
Saturday morning I felt it to be in their best interest to wake up fairly early, so Mia and I made as much noise as possible, banging around in the kitchen, burning pancakes and yelling at the dogs. Before the day was over, we dragged them through the woods in the heat of the day for a leisurely stroll, WOW-ED them with stimulating conversations about poo-poo, both human and canine, and fed them sandwiches which they prepared themselves with ingredients they had purchased. Perhaps we need a little hosting-practice...
That night, as soon as we had the kids to bed and the wine flowing, I pounded them with questions that had been floating around in my head all week, questions such as, "The rest of the world--what's it like?" and "So. What do you do?" and "What does that mean?" and "I still don't understand. Forget I asked. What's the worst thing you've ever done? And I mean, EVER?"
I realized even while asking these things that I was probably coming off as a bit eager, desperate, maybe slightly crazy, but hey, my page isn't called "Fighting Insanity" for nothing. I finally allowed our poor guests to retire for the night around 2:00 a.m.--but only after I had made a complete chatterbox out of myself and they knew my life story in its entireity.
Sunday, I lazed off a wee bit of a hangover while Inka and Cheyenne made a fabulous breakfast of french toast, eggs, and bacon. After that, we all overdosed on coffee and trip-tropped off to the Oklahoma City Zoo, where mothers from all over the nation, it seemed, came to "GET IN FREE". It was like FREAKIN' DISNEY WORLD. Inka got in on the action by posing as Cheyenne's mommy for the day, and 5 hours later we left, tired, sore, and smellin' pretty funky--but it was a good time had by all...at least I think it was. I just love the zoo.
We dined on more fantastic sandwiches that night and the next day. Mia and Cheyenne "Nemo-ed" Inka for the first time (she had never seen that movie--can you imagine!), and sent them off to the airport Monday afternoon. I hated to see them leave. I still had more questions to ask.
In all seriousness (okay, maybe not ALL seriousness--this is me), I really enjoyed our company's...company. I was glad to get the opportunity to learn more about INKA--who became more and more fascinating to me as the weekend went by--I found out that she moved to the U.S. when she was 14, and started 8th grade here without speaking a word of English. I was dying to ask her to say something in Finnish or German but thought perhaps that would be too much. She struck me as extremely smart, and very, very thoughtful, and just straight-up NICE. Her boyfriend was just all-around awesome--easy-going, friendly, adorable--and the man could tell one hell of a story. He gets 2 thumbs-up. I'm so happy to have gotten to know them both a little better. Thanks for a great weekend, guys. 5月14日 HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY! IN HONOR OF THIS MOST FABULOUS DAY OF THE YEAR, I AM RE-POSTING AN ENTRY I MADE ABOUT MY OWN MOTHER. HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL THE MOMMIES OUT THERE--AND HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO YOU MOM!
5月12日 Get Me A Drink Back, by...well, boredom on my part...the continuing saga of Toni and Caleb...
Okay, so where were we? Ah yes. The first real date--you know, when 2 people, in advance, arrange to meet at a certain location on the premise of getting to know one another better. My first 2 encounters with Golden-boy Caleb both took place at a popular bar/night club back home in Pensacola. I thought perhaps I was portraying myself as a bit of a barfly and decided to make him work for his next make-out session with me by way of dinner and a movie.
I've never been one to sweat a first date--but for some reason, on this night, I was nervous wreck. My girlfriend, who had graduated high school with Caleb and had introduced us the week before, had built him up so much that I was left wondering "What could I possibly have to offer this person? Why am I even going on this date?"
The plan was to meet at his house (which was right down the road from mine) and drive off into the night together. I remember getting out of school that evening, and, being in a hurry to make it to his place on time, brutally murdering a poor squirrel. Well, really, that's inaccurate. I believe the squirrel was suicidal--after all, he's the one that dared come within 100 feet of my car--and I didn't...totally...kill it. I KNOW! How awful am I? I knew he was pretty much done for--I had seen his furry little body fly through the air in my rear-view mirror--but I pulled over, got out of the car, and knelt down beside the poor thing to survey the damage...HUGE MISTAKE. I bet I'm the only person that's ever heard a rodent cry, and this rodent was seriously crying--maybe even screaming. Just knowing that he was "on his way out" made me a basket case. There was nothing I could do, save backing up and finishing him off for good, but that wasn't about to happen, so I got back in my car and continued on my way.
The date started out miserably.
I don't know what happened. The tanned, muscular, genuine, charming man that I had mingled with before had turned into an obnoxious, conceited a-hole in a mere 3 days. We were not hitting it off like we did the past weekend, and there were a few times that I thought I'd have to cut the date short. Caleb has told me that on that particular night he thought I was acting like a complete and utter bitch--so I guess maybe we were on the same page after all.
We pulled up to the movie theater parking lot, and Caleb just sat there for a moment.
"This date sucks," he said.
"You're right it does," I replied.
"How 'bout we grab a drink somewhere and just hang out for awhile?" he asked.
I realized that this question was actually guyspeak for "Wanna get drunk and make-out?", but I was more than okay with that, mainly because I couldn't handle another sober minute with him.
And it was at that moment the evening took a turn for the much better.
We drove to a cozy little bar downtown, ordered a couple beers and talked--and I really do mean "talked", as in "had a long, intellectual conversation"--for a few solid hours. It was during this time I chose to tell him about Cheyenne. To my surprise and delight, not only did he NOT make a sour face, he asked to see a picture--and he really looked at it before handing it back to me.
I didn't know what to think. Up until that night, anyone I had dated was never slightly interested in even asking about my daughter--which would explain why there was nobody that I was the least bit serious about in the year after my divorce. But Caleb was a champ. He wanted to know her middle name. He wanted to know if she liked dogs. He wanted to know if she played any sports. He wanted to know what it was like raising a kid at such a young age. And he wanted to know about my baby daddy--a question that I wasn't completely willing to answer in depth, not just yet. Conversation ended.
The rest of the night went well. We kissed more than a little, laughed more than a lot, drank a few more beers, and did, in fact, get to know each other better.
Months later Caleb confessed that the moment I showed up crying about a screaming squirrel was the moment I endeared myself to him forever...good stuff. And, there's more where that came from... 5月11日 Totally Krossed Out So. Good news. I found all my old cassette tapes buried in the depths of my closet--you know, the ones that you bought back in the 6th, 7th, 8th, and in my case, 9th and 10th grades? Mia and I have been jammin' out to the musical stylings of Kris Kros, Salt 'n' Pepa, TLC, Hi-5, After 7, The Spin Doctors, and...(drum roll please)...the various artists on the soundtrack to "Adams Family Values".
Hoo boy.
Turns out, Mia loves old school rap and hip-hop. And I never realized this, but she showed me that you can totally ska dance to all the music mentioned above. The girl knows how to groove--wonder where she got that from?
Ha! Not me. Don't get me wrong--I'm a good dancer. It looks so bad, but it feels so good, right? After watching me shake my rump to "Jimmy Olsen's Blues" and "Jump Jump", a person would more than agree with that statement.
Aside from the dancing, I've taken the liberty of dusting, vacuuming, and just generally straightening my home in preparation for our weekend visitors--although by the time they arrive tomorrow night, that endeavor will have been shot to hell and the house will look like crap again.
Cheyenne warned me today that she'd enjoy a good size sleepover party for her birthday towards the end of the month. OH, HAPPY DAY. I think as far as sleepovers go, 10 year old girls are the worst...and I say this only because I remember my own 10th birthday sleep-over, as well as both of my sisters' parties. I set the limit to 4 girls, knowing full good and well I probably can't even handle that, and she seemed satisfied.
Mia ought to have a blast at any rate--these girls treat her like a fairy princess. You'd think they'd never seen a baby before. It's actually quite adorable to see them all rush over and try to get a smile, or a hug, or a laugh from her. Oh, to be a cute one-year old and have the world at your fingertips.
I'd better get busy making sure the dogs aren't trashing the place. I'm probably too late.
Tomorrow I will try and put up Part 2--or is it Part 3?--of the story of Caleb and me, and that'll be IT for the weekend--I will have actual grown-ups to talk to and look at, so I'll be otherwise occupied! Ya'll have a great Friday! 5月10日 Words To Live By ARG! I'm bloated and my face is erupting like Mt. Vesuvius--perhaps in response to the stress of getting ready for company this weekend (Yea! The Finnish blonde bombshell real-live INKA, along with boyfriend we haven't met yet, will be here to entertain us for 2 glorious, fun-filled days!)
Oh, who am I kidding. The bloating and breaking out is without a doubt from the gallons of coffee and coke I've been consuming this past week. Oh, well. I figure it's a good time to remind myself to focus on inner beauty.
Stop me if you've heard this one...no, don't stop me, really. I just love this poem. I wish somehow to drill it into the heads of my little girls, and I guess my own. Contrary to popular belief, Audrey Hepburn did not write it--this is by a man named Sam Levenson.
For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.
For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.
For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.
For beautiful hair, let a child run his or her fingers through it once a day.
For poise, walk with the knowledge you'll never walk alone.
People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; Never throw out anybody.
Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you'll find one at the end of your arm.
As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.
The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides.
The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, but true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows. 5月9日 Groundhog Day A few months back I made a rather long entry detailing every moment of the oh-so-magical night I met my Caleb. While that evening will always be special, it was our second "date" that will always stand out the most in my mind. And so now, I will delight you with a few enchanting clips from what I like to refer to as "My Own Personal Groundhog Day--The Only Groundhog Day That Will Ever Mean Anything At All To Me Ever."
February 2, 2002: I started the morning out with a slight hangover and a rousing lecture from my dad, but that didn't slow me down. Immediately after getting off work at a hellhole the modern world knows as Dillard's, I made fabulous plans for a girls' night out at the very same club I had been whooping it up with Caleb at just less than 12 hours earlier.
To my surprise, he called me a few minutes before I headed out, and...I sort of invited him to meet me there, knowing full good and well that I was breaking the traditional laws of Girls' Night. Hey, a chick's gotta have someone good-looking enough to dance with!
At this point in time, Caleb had no inkling that I had a daughter (who my parents were so sweet to babysit for the 2nd night in a row), nor did he realize that we lived only 2 seconds away from each other and had attended the same high school. I guess I failed to mention said facts during the hours upon hours we spent talking (and dancing and drinking and making-out) the night before. And I didn't feel the need to disclose this information with him. After all, it was only Day 2--he certainly wasn't the first guy to drool over me in a bar, walk me to my car, kiss me or get my phone number--and I fully expected he wouldn't be the last.
We spent another late night doing much of the same thing--he brought along his friend...um...Barty* (Name has been changed), who was lookin' for love, and found it--that night, with a beautiful lady who happened to be the same age as me, had just recently gotten a divorce, was going to school, and had a 5 year old kiddo. Hmmmm...sound familiar?
My girlfriends ditched me at about 12:00 to head for home, and I wound up stuck in a truck with Barty and Caleb about 3 hours later, listening to Barty go on and on about "his dream girl". Here's where it got good for me:
Barty: "I don't know man. She's hot and all but she's 21, she's divorced, AND she's GOT A KID! I can't handle a kid, dude."
Caleb: "Don't rule her out completely--you might miss out on getting to know a really great girl just because she's got a kid--kids aren't a deal-breaker. They're a bonus."
Barty: "Yeah, I guess you're right. You guys wanna stop at Whataburger?"
Ah, Whataburger. I don't think I've ever been there between the hours of 8:00 a.m and midnight. Anyway, I digress.
If I was smitten the night before, I was head-over-heals in love after listening to that elusively-intelligent-man-dialouge. They dropped me off at my house, and Caleb and I made plans for an official "first date" in the following week.
I found out months later what really went down after I had exited the truck. Apparently, Barty had recognized me, or at least my house--I imagine the conversation to have gone something like this:
Barty: "Dude--I think THAT girl has a kid, too! I think she went to school with my sister!"
Caleb: "F*CK! Now I'll HAVE to date her."
Needless to say, the sister was called, and the jig was up--though Caleb never let on that he knew; I volunteered the information 3 days later. He screwed himself on that one! But look where he is now...and Barty is happily married to the dream girl.
To be continued... 5月8日 The Britney Conspiracy I had to stop and really put some thought into it, but according to my calculations, the month of May is about one-third of the way over with, making the year 2006 also about one-third of the way over with.
I don't know about anybody else, but my mind is still stuck back in 2003. Where is the time going?
After 3 WHOLE DAYS of not blogging (gasp!), I am back with a new and improved look. My fabulous husband was kind enough to allow me a few hours away this past weekend for a much needed trip to the hair salon. This small taste of freedom went straight to my head, and when I got to the joint, I told the haircutter to HACK IT ALL OFF. Yeah, that's right. 10 solid inches of dead, nasty, split-ended, fried-out hair--one minute it's a beloved part of me, the next it's being swept up by a dirty old broom and thrown away like it never meant anything.
I had no idea that my (eh hem, natural) hair color was this dark! Geez! I have now officially turned into THE MOM-- with my new, reliable-brown, chin-length, sensible hair.
I feel so free! So alive! So EXPOSED! I mean, really. Not that I was attached to my long and not-so-lovely locks (Ha! Actually I was!), but in a way, that ratty mop...shielded me.
I had every intention of making that list a lot longer than it wound up being, but the truth is I couldn't think of another good point about being a busy mommy and having hair that is so hard to take care of. The question remains "Will Britney Spears copy me again?" Seriously, everytime I cut or color my hair, no more than one month later the girl will have the same thing done to hers. I kid you not. She's got stooges out there tailing me, watching my every move, I just know it. That whole short brownish thing she had goin' on a while back? My idea. Switching back to long and stripper-blonde? Also, my idea. Watch her. You'll see. So, as soon as I figure out where I put the camera, I will take a picture and put it up, and you will see for your own eyes the transformation--if I didn't look soccer-mommery before, I certainly do now.
P.S.--After searching for an hour, I finally found the camera in the freakin' fridge. Really couldn't tell you how it got there. Snapped a picture of my ugly mug, posted it smack dab in the middle of my page, took a closer look, and realized I look all cock-eyed and high. Please ignore this. See past the tremendous face and discover the hair behind it. 5月5日 WARNING--Deep Thoughts from the Twisted Mind of Me Today I read a blog from Barnyardmomma that really got me thinking about me and my kids, and kids in general, and me in general...I know, that is, indeed, more than my poor brain is used to processing...all at once anyway. ANYHOW, because of that ponderment, I feel inspired to write about "The Story of my Life". Ha! That would take too long. How 'bout I just write about my kids? It's kind of the same thing.
I hear a lot of women say they just can't imagine what it's like to be a mom, to have kids...I simply can't imagine what it's like to NOT have them. I know I complain...a lot...but, if I had never had children, or, we'll just start with if I had never had Cheyenne--where would I be?
The more I thought, the more...scared and disgusted I got with myself. Immediately, the answers came to my mind--"Who cares where you'd live, Toni? You'd be childless--and really, how boring is that? You'd have a job. Big woo. You'd be making money. So? What the heck would you do with it? Shop? You'd probably be dating an asshole simply because it would affect no one but yourself. You'd be a completely different person, most likely the type of person that you don't like."
"But, Toni, you could go anywhere in the world! You could DO ANYTHING! Anything you wanted! You could've gone out at night and just stayed out. When you met Caleb, he would've had NO REASON WHATSOEVER to take it slow with you! He could've spent the night a billion times! For that matter, ANYONE could've spent the night whenever you felt like it! And you'd have a career! A CAREER, TONI! You could've bought new furniture and a new car and a new house! Just think of all the things you could've had, and everything you could have to offer someone! Not to mention your body--WOW! Can you imagine! Perfect boobs, firm tummy, tight bootie--and if you didn't like something, you could've afforded plastic surgery! Are you sure you wouldn't change anything?"
I hope I don't offend all the non-moms out there as I write these things, but the truth is, I just wouldn't be who I am today had I not made the choices I've made--however good or bad they were at the time...and I like who I am. I even like how I got here. I wouldn't change anything even if I could.
If I had just STAYED HOME from that date when I was 15, if I had just KEPT MY FREAKIN' LEGS SHUT...then Cheyenne wouldn't exist. My quiet, thoughtful, intellegent, loving little Cheyenne...What a huge impact that tiny person has had on my life.
Yeah, I guess to a certain degree, things would have been easier...but where's the fun in easy? Here's a list of a few fabulous things having children has given me:
5月3日 THE RUNDOWN
That's really all there is to my world right now. Still trying hard not to murder the dogs in cold blood. Now there's a battle. 5月1日 MURDERER My poor husband is torn up inside, and it is because he has practically murdered, oh, about 5 of God's beautiful creatures.
Caleb found a HUMONGOUS bird's nest filled with tiny eggs this past weekend in the lid of our unsightly bright-white propane tank. Unfortunately, we are scheduled to fill that puppy up here in the next week or so, and we knew that poor nest had to go. Caleb spent I-don't-even-know-how-much money at Lowe's on supplies to build a birdhouse. He was so excited.
This afternoon, he built the thing, spent forever getting it to be just the right height, pounded it into the ground about 3 feet away from the original nesting site, and carefully transplanted the precious nest to its new spot...and we waited. And waited. Momma and Papa Bird flew in and out of the propane tank lid, confused...if birds could have expressions, these poor birds' faces would read "What the hell?..."
Birds are not the brightest animals on the face of this great Earth. They have flown around the tank about a million times, never once darting to their right, where their posh new birdhouse is sturdily standing, housing their 5 little babies...after all this thought we put into it.
And yet, we feel so terrible, Caleb especially. He watched through Mia's window for at least an hour, willing those things to fly just 3 feet over to discover their new home.
Me, I've got a hunch that those damn birds will not miraculously "discover" their ever-so-carefully built birdhouse, but will go back to building a brand-new nest in the old location, complete with a brand-new set of babies...so sad. Don't know what in the heck we'll do with these 5 unborn orphans now.
On another note, I may still have the mumps. My lump is back with a fierceness, and Caleb looked at my hideous face and called me "Quasimodo"...excuse me, according to my dear, sweet, loving husband, he only called me "Quasi". Which is so much nicer. Thanks, babe. |
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