My Ding-a-Ling ;)

Proof I'm Insane ;)

I went to a sex toy party tonight. It's the second one I've ever been to. The first was when I was newly married, and very naive. To make this extremely naughty first-time event even more blush-worthy, my mother-in-law was there. Thankfully she was not present this evening.

Some of the lotions, rings, vibrating objects and candles you can actually burn and then pour onto your lover's body freak me the hell out... I'll be honest! I'm all about the fairy dust and feathers, but JEEZ! Who purchases a double-dong from a home-party, where at some point, the giant flexible piece of non-meat is going to have to be delivered to your door?!?! Trust me ladies, that baby ain't gonna fit in a brown paper bag. There is nothing discreet about it! Unless you are rather large, and are able to conceal larger-than-life sex toys, everyone will know you are a master of dongs.

I couldn't help myself, and had to ask the demonstrator (hahahahaha) if people order such monstrous items from her very sexy catalog. She hadn't had much experience with dong orders, which, quite honestly, made me breathe a huge sigh of relief. Marion is known for many things... popcorn, piss tests and toothless wonders... but buffoon dongs aren't one of them. YAY for non-dong-using Marionites!

There is just something about a pretty blonde chick passing around vibrators and lubes with a straight face that strikes me as a bit odd. While I didn't order the dong for two, I did manage to find some shimmeries, which I later found out was a perfect purchase, because according to Facebook (which I rely on for accurate news and my map through life), I need to be a princess for Halloween this year. Fruity fairy dust! I just purchased my Halloween costume at a fun party! Is there something wrong with this picture?!

In other news, I realized tonight how very strange I truly am. My friend Candise & I went to have our hair cut today, and I had her take a picture... of the back of my head. Then I proceeded to post it on Facebook, where I now have 400 "friends". I have often wondered what people think of me, and now I know. That Kelly... that's the chick that takes pictures of the back of her head and goes to dong parties. Yes, it's odd, and yes, it's me... So YAY for vibrating ding-dongs, YAY for ass-backward photos and YAY for wearing fairy dust and nothing else.

Now go play with your ding-a-ling...

Potty Mouth

Today was a frantic day for my family. Okay, I'm lying through my teeth right now. It was a frantic and traumatic day for me... and miss Abbi.

We started our day at 5am... sorta. I hit snooze, after waking up and realizing the baby was snuggled up against me as close as he could possibly be. He had teetered in at some point during the night, and I hadn't even noticed. What a love. I couldn't move. I just laid there. Now, whether I actually wanted to snuggle with the baby at 5am, or just use that as an excuse to sleep 5 more minutes, I can't tell. I know, but I won't tell you... :P

That brings me to the wake-up. I hopped out of bed.. literally, because at some point a giant semi (toy) also teetered into our bedroom and plopped it's big square very-hard-plastic ass onto the floor right where I step to get out of bed in the mornings.

Thankfully I had gotten my shower the night before, after my husband graciously made my roots the color they were meant to be... red... not the blonde God graced me with. I'm still a bit peeved at him for making me a natural blonde. It SO doesn't go with my skin tone. We'll have a talk once I get up there to meet him... Lord willing.

Anyway, I still felt rather clean from the shower I had taken last night, so I threw on my scrubs, added a few curls to the fro and painted my face. Not bad for 5:30am, I suppose.

I then packed myself some healthy goodies for work, filled 3 sippies, threw some diapers in the make-shift diaper bag (I finally threw away the lovely pale pink designer-knockoff bag Joel preferred :P) and tip-toed back to wake the lovies up.

Aiden was first. He popped out of bed like he had just realized his sheets were either frozen or on fire. He immediately went out to the living room. I turned on the light, and he gave me an evil little stare. "Mommy, this is WAY too early." "Join the club Aiden... this is how Mommy & Daddy feel every weekend day." Note to self: Tomorrow, wake Aiden up by screaming in his ear.

Abbi was next. She was a little slower than Aiden, but she knew what she had to look forward to (and fear) for the day, so she hobbled out to the living room, too. She had a mini-tantrum over her dress (too many buttons... wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh), but she recovered quite nicely. So I went to wake up the baby.

I shook him a little... not in a baby-shaking syndrome way... in a loving, get-the-hell-up kinda way. He turned over onto his belly, snoring happily. I jiggled his cute little baby leg. He sat up pissed. He started whining and I had to giggle. This was payback.

The getting-out-the-door process went rather smoothly, and we were on the road by 6:15am... off to Papa's house. The drop-off was drama free. The kids love Papa. They even got to see Mama for a quick minute before she left for work.

I got to work and fretted all morning... stomach ache, nausea... I thought I could seriously vomit. But I didn't. At 8:35am on the nose, I left work and met the kids & Papa at the church. First day of VBS. First day I've ever dropped my babies off ANYWHERE and left them. Sure, the grandparents watch them and we have a couple of very trust-worthy friends who have babysit, but this was entirely different.

As soon as we got to the church Abbi was in full-blown OCD mode. I wanted to cry. We registered. She asked me where the bathroom is. We got name tags. She asked me where the bathroom is. We met the teacher's helper. She asked me where the bathroom is. We showed her to her mat. She asked me where the bathroom is.

You see, Abbi did not have to pee. She has a major issue with potties. She must know where they are, how the door closes, who will take her, if she is strong enough to open the door & if it is just 'kinda loud' or 'really loud' when the potty flushes. Preschool starts in a few weeks, and this has been her main concern. The potty.

The teacher (who will also be her preschool teacher) helped to calm Abbi down. This whole time Aiden was being a champ. He was excited.

The teacher's helper showed us to the restroom. Abbi was satisfied after the teacher's helper promised her that if she had to pee, she would show her to the bathroom. Mission #1 accomplished.

Mission #2? Will Abbi be picked up. Mind you, we have never left our kids. We would never leave our kids and the fear Abbi has about us leaving her is extremely real and a bit odd to me. I assured her over and over and over and over again that Papa would be there to pick she & Aiden up at noon. I imagine she asked her teacher the same question 50,000,000 times throughout the day.

I told the teacher on the way out I was going to go cry. Abbi stared at me but didn't start throwing a fit or sobbing. I would cry enough for the both of us...

So I got back to work and had to auto-pilot myself through the morning. My stomach was REALLY aching at this point. I was shaky. I was a MESS waiting for noon to come. I couldn't wait. I couldn't wait to call Papa and find out if the kids had done okay. I had lots of faith in Mr. Aiden. I prayed I wouldn't get a phone call about Abbi. I didn't.

Noon came and went. I waited til 12:30 to call, so I could talk to the kids too. Joel called me at one point and I panicked. I just knew something was wrong. Nothing was.

The kids were SOOOOO excited when I talked to them! They had a fabulous time! I'm pretty sure they didn't even miss me, which makes me want to shout from the rooftops and cry profusely all at once. Day one done, 4 more to go.

VBS was the topic of the night... all we heard about. Logan is a bit too young to go, so he stayed with his Papa all day. He probably loved the attention. Trying to fight for attention when you don't say much, and have twin crazy children as your siblings, must suck.

Tonight we drove into town. One of the kids' favorite things to do is to go through the car wash. We save this for special occasions (I almost said rainy days, but that wouldn't be appropriate) and cabin-fever days. The van gets washed about once every couple of months. (Seriously, it was eight freakin' dollars and it didn't even BLOW DRY the damn van! RIP I tell ya!)

We're driving through (it was nearly dark and it WAS dark inside the car wash) and the baby just started WAILING. Big old sick-cow wails... seriously, he sounded like a wounded animal. From his perspective, I could see why he was so outrageously scared. Tiny Logan (alright he's not all that tiny, but compared to me he's an ant) versus the big car wash machines. I felt for him.

On our way home I couldn't help but think about the scary things in life. If we fear things as adults, can you imagine how small children feel? The world is HUGE to us, which makes it GIGANOURMAMUNDUS to them. We stopped for a train, and I realized how scary a train could be. I just prayed that if it derailed, it would derail off the other side of the track. Trains = Scary.

We got home and Abbi pointed at a giant bug on the wall. She called me over, and it was a GIGANOURMAMUNDUS mosquito. GIGANOURMAMUNDUS mosquito = Terrifying.

See what I'm getting at? Life is full of fear. We spend hours a day avoiding them, making people feel better about them, facing them & beating them. I just pray the train doesn't derail, the mosquito doesn't suck our blood and the toilet doesn't suck our asses down with it.

Life is damn scary. We'll never get out of it alive.

It's not worth worrying about. That's just how it is.

The end = Petrifying.

Piss Sticks & Baby Blues

Abbigail Diane

Aiden Richard

Logan Michael

When I started to blog, I had no idea how I would ever choose a topic and stick to it. Thankfully I've realized that flouncing from topic to topic is just peachy. That way, there is a little something for everyone.

For instance, if you didn't have a big huge puddle of love in your heart for yesterday's poop post, I've decided to get off the poop track... get it? Poop track... hehehehe....

Moving on... to THINGS that poop... my children :)

Back before babies, I didn't know what kind of Mother I would be. In the back of my mind, I knew I wanted kidlets. Joel & I waited a few years to try. Don't get me wrong, we were practicing to try.. we were just taking precautions.

Once we finally did decide we were ready for babies, I couldn't get pregnant. We tried, and tried and tried... and after a while, taking my temperature, holding my ass up in the air and hoping that the little squirmies would get to the proper place got old. Sex was monotonous. If my temperature spiked, I would get so excited! I even charted online, and soon became very aware of what was going on with my crazy non-baby-making body...

The truth is, after a while I started to feel like my body was broken. I was in pretty good shape, I ate right, exercised and played by the rules. Getting pregnant can easily become an obsession when the stars just aren't aligning.

I no longer cared if I'd be a good parent... I just wanted a baby. We bought so many pregnancy tests, we could've easily paid for a cheap college tuition. And time after time, I either got no line where there should be a line, a negative sign where there should be a positive, or the incredibly evil "not pregnant" on the digital piss stick. My emotions were like a roller coaster. This went on for months & months...

One day I woke up and feeling a little queasy, which I had finally realized was me WANTING to feel pregnant and not a real sign of a growth, I stopped at Kroger on my way to work. I bought a cheap pregnancy test. I was too poor at this point to buy an expensive one, or even a two-pack of value piss sticks, due to my obsession with my own pee.

Rather than waiting until I got to work (I worked in Columbus at the time), I just went right to the Kroger bathroom. I had held myself off from peeing all morning, so I REALLY had to go! I had always heard that first morning urine was the best! And I wanted the BEST pee possible, especially with my icky queasies.

The test was positive.

There were 2 lines. This was a miracle. I got really excited, and started jumping up and down... in the bathroom, and out of the bathroom... right up to the brand new Starbucks, which had just been added to our Kroger. The barista must have thought I was a lunatic. I know I had craziness written all over my face.

At that point, I held the stick up in her face, and said, "does this mean I'm pregnant? Is this real?... She started giggling, looked incredibly amused, and told me she had seen a few of those sticks in her lifetime, and yes indeed, I was pregnant.

Joel had just started the police academy the day before. We didn't have cell phones at the time (how in the world did we function without them?) so I drove right over to see hm at work. He worked at Ashely Furniture at this time, his go-between job after plumbing and before the cop gig.

Joel didn't seem overly excited. I was crushed. He just stared at me, hugged me and smiled... but not an overly excited smile. Just a smile. I was ecstatic! We had been waiting for SO LONG! How could he not be shouting it from the rooftop? I wanted to beat him.

I later found out that Joel was just overwhelmed. He had started his new job not long ago, had started the police academy yesterday & now, after so many false hopes & negative tests, I was pregnant. Little did he know that just two weeks later we would find out there were two growths in my belly... little baby beans... Abbigail & Aiden.

I chose the name Abbigail, because I loved it. I decided to spell it with the 2 B's, because when I 'shortened' her name, I didn't want to have to add a B to the traditional Abigail. Why bother shortening if you have to add a letter later? :)

Joel chose Aiden. I liked the name, because Carrie on Sex & the City had a boyfriend named Aiden... John Corbett. Not only did I think John (aka Aiden) was hot... I also loved his name. So Abbi & Aiden it was.

I'm not going to get into the nitty-gritties of the pregnancy. More power to the woman who love being pregnant... I HATED IT! For such a long-time wish, I sure hated the process. But the outcome was so incredibly worth it.

Logan was a huge surprise... a true gift, although I didn't realize that at first, as I was beating my head against walls, cursing the doctor for telling me I would never get pregnant 'without help' and crying profusely, because unlike last time, I wouldn't be a 'skinny pregnant person'...

Yes, it took the idea of Logan a while to grow on me. I wanted to name him Gavin. Joel didn't care for that name. After much deliberation, and realizing that if I didn't come up with a name quick, Joel was going to name our child after an EverQuest character, we decided on Logan. I love the name Logan. I think it sounds nice with Abbigail & Aiden, too. My little cutie-bugs.

In the beginning, I was a fabulous Mom. I was extremely patient, and didn't let much get to me. After a week, I was a crazy woman. I had a bout with post-partum depression, which I'm not ashamed to admit, and it took me quite a while to find my place at home again. I felt like babies had invaded my home. Their toys, clothes, bottles, blankets, diapers, Baby Einstein.. everything... was just everywhere!

After finding my place as a Mom, I became a rather good, albeit flabbergasted parent. I'm still that way today.

Just tonight the kids were throwing toys into the crock pot full of water in the sink. Earlier today, they all decided to shake juice onto their heads, making them look like dirty mop heads when I got home. As I've explained in previous posts, they like to make food concoctions in the play room, and flush hotdogs down the toilet. Aiden called "Joel" instead of Daddy or Dad. Abbi once said damn-it and I couldn't help but laugh hysterically. Tonight I told Aiden to drain his lizard, something most Moms would never say to their kids.

We are definitely not your run of the mill, traditional-type parents. I enjoy being crazy, and have been accused of being random and "not right". I like that. I want my kids to learn that life can be fun... and they don't have to 'fit in' to be awesome people!

I'm glad I thought I would suck as a Mom. I'm glad we couldn't get pregnant right away. I'm glad I thought I was broken, and I would never see a positive piss stick in my lifetime. All of these things have made me a better parent... and a better person.

And I'm proud of that.

Happily Foul Mouthed

Well, I just found out my blog is rated NC-17.

That means no children under 17 should be reading it. It made me feel a little guilty at first, because I have been known to say piss and ass right here on my apparently very adult page. I decided to let go of the guilt though... the book I'm writing also has a couple of swear words... okay, a handful...

I guess I just enjoy ruffling some feathers, and throwing in a 'bad' word every once in a while... one of the reasons older people do not watch TV anymore or read blogs or magazines... just too much swearing! Bad, bad people! I suppose I should be blocked on the computers of children 17 and under... although I do know that 17-year olds these days are more like 30-year olds. Not much is sacred anymore... I suppose I'm just following in the path of the other joyfully foul-mouthed people out there. I don't like to be a follower, but in this case, throw the book at me... I'm guilty!

The good news is that I'm not rated X, or even R (although I believe NC-17 is considered to be worse than R... hmmm). I think the Xiest thing I've ever written about is hot, steamy sex with Dr. Christian Troy, but dreams don't count... especially with extremely good-looking famous people!

I just figure my blog is to put my thoughts and feelings out there, and if I ever really get back to it, to promote my book... or the 5 chapters I have written at least. Sometimes I curse in my head, so it just comes out. I'm sorry if that offends anyone... okay, I'm not THAT sorry.

Later... :0)