Archive for May, 2007

Wednesday, May 16th, 2007

Got tagged

I got tagged by Stephieface for this meme. If you want to be tagged consider yourself so. I just did one similar to this, but I have a million random things I could tell ya about mwah. (Also, I apologize for typos because I’m sort scatter brained over the anticipation of my trip tomorrow. Oh, and I haven’t packed. And the house is a mess. And I need to wash clothes. Ughhh.)

The rules:
1. Each player starts with 8 random facts/habits about themselves.
2. People who are tagged write a blog post about their own 8 random things and post these rules.
3. At the end of your blog you need to tag 8 people and post their names.
4. Don’t forget to leave them a comment and tell them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

My 8 random facts/habits:

1. I’m super intuitive and sometimes have scared myself with this, what seems at times, like another sense. Sometimes I feel something, dread something, dream something… and 75% of the time, something happens. Could totally be a fluke, but here’s a few examples: The night before 9/11, I couldn’t sleep. I paced the floors, watched out the windows, felt uneasy and scared. Mind you, I don’t normally have problems sleeping unless I’m staying outside my home. Another example was the day I had a really bad accident 3 years ago. I went to work that morning and kept having an awful feeling something was going to happen to Jeremy at work that day. I called him from work to tell him to be super careful at work that day and even called later to tell him I loved him. I went on my lunch break at noon, grabbed myself some McDonalds, and headed down the highway to a store to rent a movie for that evening. I was coming through an intersection in front of the mall and suddenly saw a Dodge truck turning into oncoming traffic, right in front of me. I didn’t even have time to react. He crashed through me and his tires drove over my car and landed on my steering wheel. My airbag deployed and my engine broke through the firewall and slammed into my knees. I remember opening my eyes, seeing his tire right by my face, feeling blood running down the back of my neck, seeing smoke fill my car up, and being sure in my gut that I was going to pass away. The ambulance pulled me out and whisked me to the hospital. I apparently told the Paramedics to tell my husband and son that I loved them intensely. Anyhow, I was totally wrong about what was going to happen that day, but I did feel something was going to happen and was right. I had a concussion, a laceration on my head, and some neck trauma. Apparently the guy that hit me didn’t even get a scratch and even got to drive his truck away. My car was totally totalled and hardly even had a front end left. I had Angels that day! He also climbed in my car, tried to care after me, wiped my blood away, and kept apologizing until I left in the ambulance. I don’t remember him at all, but this accident is always a reminder to me how precious life is. (Boy, that was a LONG one)

2. I took German for 3 years but can hardly speak it. I understand it quite well because my German Grandmother always spoke to me in German. She would talk bad about me as a kid to all of her German friends while I was sitting right there, and I hated that because I knew what she was saying.

3. Speaking of my German Grandmother, she was literally the most neurotic person I’ve ever known (though I soooo love her)! She used to make me clean the shower and bath every time I used it. I had to not only clean it, but then had to wipe it with a towel until it was all dry so that there wouldn’t be water spots on the tiles. She would make me use a lint roller to roll up all my hair after I dried it. She would have me wash my hair outside with a hose in the summer so that my hair wouldn’t get in the drain. She still makes me put my hair in a bun or ponytail outside before I come in the house. She also picks the hairs or lint off my shirt and takes it outside to the trashcan. She nearly has a brain aneurism if I step on the vacuum lines in her white carpet. Uggh. She used to make me CRAZY with all of her cleaning and griping at me!

4. My first apartment was on the shady part of town, but because I was new to the area, I had no idea when I moved in that I was moving into the ghetto. I thought it was just the “hisorical” part of town. It took months before I realized that those women walking up and down my street were hookers. I had NO idea that my neighbors were crackheads and that I shouldn’t go out of my house after dark. Once I met Jeremy, he talked me into moving and it was the best thing I could have done. The hookers were really nice though!

5. Austin had a febrial seizure when he was 2.5 years old and it was the scariest thing! We were at the lake, 40 miles from the hospital, and having a wonderful time playing and eating and enjoying the sun. Austin was walking towards the car to grab a shirt off the hood because he said he was cold. He fell on the ground and I thought he just slipped. I waited for a moment to see if he was going to cry or just jump back up. He just laid there with his upper body held up on his locked elbows. I got up to help him get up and when I rolled him over his eyes were rolling, his tongue hanging out, and he began convulsing in my arms. I screamed out and Jeremy came running over. I put Austin in the car and began driving off before Jeremy even got in the car all the way. I drove up to the nearest store and called 911. I held Austin while crying and watching his face fade to pale and his lips turning blue. He wasn’t breathing! He finally quit convulsing and started breathing. By the time the ambulance arrived, he was just sleeping limply. They took his temp and it was 103. He never had another seizure after that, but it was sooooo scary! Everytime he fell after that, for years, I’d go running to him scared that it was happening again.

6. I’m in love with 80’s music! Even when I was a teenager, I used to pump up some crazy 80’s music in my car. I’d roll up to school with my windows down jamming “Hungry Like a Wolf” by Duran Duran! Kids thought I was such a dork!

7. This was my first car. I thought I was crazy cool!

8. I plan to one day have my old Fiero again, maybe as a midlife crisis present to myself. This car was my midtwenties crisis car:

Mine is powder blue and absolutely cherry on the exterior! It’s been in the garage for 3 years because the transmission died and we can’t find anyone who wants to work on it. I miss it, but it really was a gas guzzler, even more so than my SUV! It’s so sassy, isn’t it?

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This may be my last post until I get back on Tuesday! I’ll probably have mad blog withdrawls and have to find a coffee shop with wireless connection so that I can get my “fix”. I’m super excited! I’m also going to be meeting Meghan on Monday and we’re going to have a little birthday celebration. Her birthday is on Tuesday and she lives really close to where I’m visiting! Anyhow, if I don’t talk to you before then, have a beautiful weekend!


Saturday, May 12th, 2007

A wee bit of my day…

Today was a GREAT Mother’s Day Eve! We went to the park first thing this morning because it was so warm, even at 9 am. We went for a walk along the river, found racoon prints in the mud, and took pictures.

 

 

We then headed back home for a huge late breakfast of eggs, grits, toast, grits, and french toast. We were so full afterwards that all we could do is nap. Life is wonderful.

When we woke, we headed to town to run some errands and decided to visit another park. Twas wonderful hanging out in the sun, shade, whatever Mr. Sky gave us. Which ended up being quite a bit of wind which finally chased us back to our car in a hurry, but not a moment before we took tons of fun pictures and soaked up the delicious fresh air.

“Come on Noah, kiss me.”

“Noah, it’s almost Mother’s Day. You have to kiss me!”

“He won’t kiss me. Hmph.”

 

And, I wanted to share some belly pics because my last post probably had you wondering about this pooch I’ve got. Now I don’t think I look pregnant, but my stretch marks and pooch really make me feel, well, like wearing granny panties and a one piece bathing suit (No, Silly! Not at the same time!). Hide it! I guess it’s just awkward growing older, watching my body change, not seeing what I did just 3 years ago. Sometimes I think that the beautiful thing about growing older, though, is that you learn to love yourself for more important and lasting reasons than youth and beauty. Because I have welcomed you all into my head, here is the source of my biggest insecurity…

The lovely stretch marks…

The funny tummy…

But just to finish this off in a happy, self loving way, I want to share a few things I love about this here Stepherz. I love my blue eyes. I love my legs. I love my hair. I love my freckles. I even love my super long toes because they make pinching baby fluff super fun and fun-ny!  

And because you are beautiful and I feel lucky to know you– Happy Mother’s Day to you! If you aren’t a Mommy, you are someone special and lovely and I wish you a happy day too! :-)


Thursday, May 10th, 2007

The Pooch.

I’m mad. I’m so mad. I’m so mad I could beat up a 6 year old. No, I’m kidding. But check this out (speed read, this is a long one):

Tuesday. I went and got my hair done. Yeah, baby. Usually getting my roots fixed makes me feel pretty dang good about myself. I’m not just a mommy, I become a pretty mommy. I feel like a young woman again after doing my hair. And I should feel GREAT for $140 ($112 hair and $28 tip)! I have to touch my roots every two months and it’s the ONLY thing I do for myself beside a Calgon bath here and there. I don’t see some kind of color artist, my hairdresser is mediocre. I used to get the same hair color for $45 in NC. NOTHING in Colorado is cheap. And living in a Aspen like town means you have to pay big bucks for beauty stuff. It sucks, but, like I said, it’s the only thing I do for myself. Anyways, do you know what my hairdresser said to me!? Here’s our dialogue:

40 year old Mediocre Hairdresser who is a size 2: “I need to start working out.”

Me: “Well I think you look fantastic! You have a great figure.”

Her: “Yeah, but, I have a belly pooch. I know you have one too, but you’ve had 2 kids and I don’t have that excuse.”

What exactly am I tipping you $28 for!? First of all, if you don’t even know after 2 years of doing my hair that I have THREE children, you aren’t paying enough attention and I’m tipping you too fargin’ much! And lastly, I don’t pay that much money to have you point out that I have a POOCH! I can see it, thank you very much! You don’t need to use me as an example for why YOU need to exercise. Kiss my GRITS!

So today I was at the park with the babies playing and having a beautiful time. A little girl, about 6, walks up to us and starts to play with Bella. Our dialogue is:

Little girl: “Are these your babies?”

Me: “Yes, they sure are. I have 3 babies, but one is a big boy and he just turned 12.”

Little girl: “You’re going to have 4 babies soon, huh?”

Me: “What?”

Little girl: “You’re having another baby?”

Me: “No, I’m not pregnant.”

Little girl: “Oh, I think your tummy looks pregnant.”

Straight from the mouths of babes. That’s ok. You know what? I’m discouraged by my pooch and I don’t really need others to confirm it. I have done crunches until I’m blue in the face. I’m so aware aware of my belly that 2 weeks ago I went to see a plastic surgeon to entertain getting a tummy tuck. I know what you’re thinking. I must be soooo vain. But, honestly, I’m not. I might be a bit insecure, but not vain. The surgery scares me because it is a very intense procedure. I’m a woos. But I have worked so hard to get fit this last 4 months and my stomach wasn’t improving at all. The doctor confirmed what I already knew: it isn’t going to get better. The stomach muscles not only seperate down the middle, but the ligaments that hold those muscles together can NEVER spring back. No matter how many diets or crunches I do. Besides the obvious cosmetic reasons I want the surgery, I also have a horrible umbilical hernia that bothers me all the time, but especially if I hold Bella for too long. I have to lie on my back and push my guts back in behind the muscles. That’s what happens when you have a 10.5 pound baby and go and get preggers again right away. So, yeah. Surgery. And it’s going to hurt.

I sometimes wish I was more like the women that post here. They are at peace with what pregnancy did to their bodies because, seriously, what a miracle! We held this amazing growing child within us and our bodies nourished, and loved, and nurtured. It truly is a beautiful gift– to be able to carry a child and to give birth. After 5 miscarriages, I well know how blessed I am and I LOVE that my body nurtured these 3 beautiful gifts. But, as thankful and blessed as I feel, I also want to feel good about myself and I’m so tired of sucking in my belly everywhere I go. I’m not afraid to cheat!

But I am afraid to get my belly pierced again! Did you know that you lose your real belly button with a tummy tuck!? Yes, the stretch your skin so tight that you actually lose your old belly button and they just make you a new one. Blech! My doctor’s nurse had abdominoplasty and chose not to get a new belly button. She showed me her perfectly flat stomach with NO BELLY BUTTON! So spooky!

I can laugh at myself and I like to be down to earth and not put too much importance in the physical. And I laugh at my belly, and embrace it. Bella likes to poke it and blow zerberts into it, and it makes me smile because we have such fun with my squishy softness. But. You know. Being a woman is hard. How is it that I’m going to teach Bella to be comfortable in her own skin, to feel beautiful despite the media, to have confidence? I always meant to never say things that might encourage her to treat her body as unforgivingly/unlovingly as I have my own body. (Examples: I’m feeling fat. I have crows feet. I don’t feel pretty.) But what will my tummy tuck scar say to her louder than any words? That is my hurdle. This is the only thing holding me back from the knife. I have a responsibility to teach self-love through my actions. Through example.

On the lighter side: I blame this all on Barbie. She started this. It’s all her fault.


Wednesday, May 9th, 2007

8 days and counting

I am starting to get anxious about my trip. No, I’m totally lying to you. I’ve been very anxious, but increasingly so. I’m not feeling a bad anxious though, if that makes any sense. I talked to my dad today and he, again, was very warm and heartfelt. I guess I am lost in this rather sudden attempt to reconcile. I want it to be genuine, but it’s just my nature to try and figure out the psychology behind things and sometimes I’m skeptical of people’s “motives”. It’s like, ya know, where the heck were you when I needed you? At the same time, it’s not like I have parents lined up at my door waiting to be genuine and heartfelt. I have one parent left. So it’s not like I have room to be choosy. And? Better late than never…

He offered to buy me a dress for the wedding when I mentioned that the shopping is lacking here (unless you like Wranglers and Cowboy boots) and I didn’t have anything to wear. He told me he missed me and wished so many years hadn’t gone by without us talking. He told me he loved me. He called me “Sweetie” like he did when I was little, and like I call my babies. It seemed like old times and like there were no hurt feeling or 13 years between us. He asked me questions about my life, and I his. It was nice.

I sometimes think that most of my Aunts and Uncles, and certainly my dad, didn’t have much confidence in my turning out alright despite my rough childhood. I mean, I started my adulthood living in my car and getting pregnant (by a “colored man”, no less– very taboo) out of wedlock. My family is very southern. I can’t imagine what they think 13 years has done to/for me. But I’m eager to show them, even for just one evening of catching up, that I’m alright. I’m healthy and happy and loved. I’m sometimes smart, on occassion witty, and always funloving. I paid my own way through college because, sometimes, people with rough beginnings are determined and ambitious too. And as far as interracial families go, we live just like everyone else does. Obviously, mixing the races a bit is a good thing too. Here’s proof in the pudding:

I can’t wait to see my one of my two favorite cousins get married. She’s going to be so lovely! I hadn’t seen her since she was a little thing until last year. It’s amazing to see her as a woman now. I also get to celebrate what would have been mom’s 51st birthday with my grandma and sister. I’ll be able to put flowers on mom’s grave in person, and that means alot to me. I get to spend some time with my favoritest cousin and her little boys which I’m also so excited about. 

It’s going to be an awesome trip, y’all! I just know it.

Now if I could just convince Jeremy that holding down the Fort, changing the poopies, feeding 3 picky eaters, washing 2 loads of laundry each day, keeping the house clean, grocery shopping with 3 kids, and maintaining some sanity isn’t going to be so hard… I might come home to a very grateful and appreciative man when this is all over!