Planning

My husband, ever the attorney. Not much for spontaneity these days and that's ok.

I glance over from my perch on the sofa and what do I see? He and the Menace are working on a sketch/plan of the snowman they plan to build tomorrow. Pretty stinking cute.

Poo Corner

We are dabbling a bit in the art of potty training. Of course we aren't having great success, but we aren't pushing the issue at this point. The Menace is not quite aware when he needs to tinkle. Yet, he definitely know he when he needs to poop. He will be playing then suddenly says, "I need to hide. I gotta go to poo corner." Delmar and I decided we will beat him to the punch and put his potty in poo corner. He is not so sure about our idea. Nonetheless I did my best not to laugh. I found the situation all too funny.
Yes, I had to sit there and read books. He wouldn't have anything to do with it otherwise.

Now doesn't this tale make you think of the "sweet" Kenny Loggins song: "Pooh Corner". Every time the Menace announces his location the annoying song runs through my head.

Pee Pee Store

My sister came to visit a few days ago. Let's call her "Trixy". While The Menace was showing Trixy some of his toys he paused, looked at her with a serious look, and the following conversation began:

Menace: Trixy you don't have a pee pee right?

Trixy: (trying to keep a straight face) No, your right. I'm a girl. I don't have a pee pee.

Menace: Well, you need to get one.

Trixy: Where do I get one?

Menace: (in a matter of fact tone) You get it from the pee pee box.

Trixy: Where do I find the pee pee box?

Menace: From the Pee Pee Store!

Trixy: Oh, well how would I put it on.

Menace: You just use scissors.

I sent them out to build a snowman.
Needless to say, I think I need to hide the scissors.

Trains

My little Menace loves trains. When I say loves trains I don't mean he just likes to play with "Choo-Choo's" as many toddlers might say. He knows many different types and styles of trains. He can name almost every Thomas and Friends train available. He really loves trains.

Today we decided we must do something as our trip to the Arches failed. Trip to the arches you say? I never told you about the trip? Well, that trip was just too much drama to even bother posting. Just imagine endless drama and we'll move on.

Anywho, we decide to travel north to a local train museum. We showed the Menace a few photos online and he was committed. Before leaving we decided to call Delmar's mother to join us. She grew up in a small train town and was raised by a train engineer step-grandfather. She showed up early for our departure time. This fact is important as to understand her excitement, she is not the arrive early type. This little adventure did not disappoint. Before we could even park the car the Menace had spotted the engines parked outside and was shouting for joy. We spent over 2 hours at the joint and the Menace still didn't want to leave. It was fantastic. Aside from the Menace and his joy it was nice to see the nostalgia in my mother-in-law's face. We don't spend a great deal of quality time together and this trip will be logged into our memories forever.

I believe things happen for a reason. I have no doubt our planned adventures failed in part to give us this "Traintastic" opportunity.
(Don't mock the made up word I hear it daily on a Menace train cartoon)

Witness

Oh, we have had quite the week.

I'll begin with nice news. We are finally approved and on the adoption list. Now we must wait for a birth mother to pick us. Some people say that is the worst part. For me it feels like it will be better than all the paperwork and waiting for the caseworker to get on the ball. I might change my tune after a bit. I don't think so. I have done all I can do for now and that is good for me.

Now for the interesting stuff. Delmar, The Menace and I decided to take a little 2 day jaunt to the mountainous town we live by. We loaded up and just needed to make one quick stop in the big city on the way for Delmar to drop off some legal paperwork to an opposing attorney. That quick stop turned into a nightmare. Literally.

True to his word Delmar dropped the papers off quickly and was back in the car in less than 5 minutes. As he re-entered the automobile we notice commotion just to the passenger side of our vehicle. Two guys look as if they are goofing around. But, they are not goofing. One has a knife and slashes the throat of the other. The slashed throat guy (who is a drunk street dweller) stands there screaming at the other who has run off. Blood is spraying from his mouth as he shouts while more blood is spurting from his neck with every heartbeat. Now blood doesn't usually bother me. This event however leaves me completely ready to vomit.

Delmar calls 911 and is giving details. The slashed throat guy still screaming punches another guy who tries to help and stop the bleeding. Punched guy nearly slams into my automobile. Police begin to arrive. Delmar exits the car to give 911 further details. I pull out of the parking stall to get The Menace away from the events (thankfully he fell asleep on the drive to the big city) and avoid getting trapped in by the arriving emergency vehicles.

Just wait it gets better. Delmar is detained by the authorities because as slashed throat guy is transported he is believed to be near death by paramedics. Delmar must now give a second report to homicide detectives as they believe it will now be a murder. I am stuck driving around town and trying to keep The Menace from screaming for over 2 hours. Delmar is not allowed to leave the watchful eye of the officers even to pick up his wallet from me so he might ride public transportation home as our vacation is beginning to look dismal. Some adventure huh?

We were finally able to retrieve Delmar from the authorities after 10 p.m. We made it to our vacation and into our hotel beds by 12:30 a.m. Our 2 day getaway was quickly dwindled to 1. We did our best to make the most of that one. I think that we now need/deserve another vacation??

Last we heard slashed throat guy was on the mend and will be back on the street in no time. Not sure though. Here is the news report in case you don't believe me.
http://www.ksl.com/index.php?nid=148&sid=11381957

Jingle Bells

The Menace loves the song "Jingle Bells". When I say loves I mean loves. He always wants to sing it. Around the end of March I'd had my fill with "Jingle Bells". I told him he couldn't sing it until we had a lot of snow again and it was Christmas time. This morning he looks out the window and notices the 2 inches on the lawn (note: it is May 24th). He shouts out "SOWN". yes he puts the n in the wrong spot. Before I know it he is singing: "Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle All Way. Oh Good fun it is to ride in a horse sleigh, Hey!" What do you do? He followed my directions and waited until it was snowing again, he has no clue when Christmas time is. I am beginning to doubt if I do either.

Apology

To everyone who has noticed a deleted comment right before a comment from me on their blog. I am truly sorry. I should know better than to think that I can manage multiple blogs at once. I keep leaving myself signed in to a blog that is not The Winder. So I then must delete it and recreate it as Winder. Please forgive me in my idiotic state.

Seriously

I seriously need to get back in shape. Yesterday I spent an hour teaching a teenage girl some track drills. No big deal, I have done these same drills for years. Well, tell that to my back. I went to pick The Menace up this morning and spent the next 15 min. on the floor freaking him out. I was hollering and moaning. I really wish I had a recording of the noises, they were fantastic couldn't recreate them if I tried. Thankfully Delmar was late leaving for work and was able to reduce the spasm. I felt like such a loser. Now that it isn't quite as sore I can reflect on the situation with a clear mind. I know I am an out of shape loser, but it was really funny.

Ugghhhhh....

Note: The lable on this post is TMI. Don't read if you don't want to know!

This is how I feel today. I am finally having my visit from Aunt Flow. It has been 60 days and I have known for 30 that I wasn't pregnant. Thus the story of my infertile life. You might say how lucky you are to go so long without a visit. Ummm NO! I bloat for weeks and retain all kinds of water. This go around all of my bowel movements have been a lovely shade of green (could be unrelated). I just want to lie around and moan. Can't happen, I have a two year old and 7 loads of laundry waiting. Off I go, just needed to vent.

OVERJOYED

I met Sparks yesterday!

Yes Rabid the exclamation point is necessary. I was so excited I could hardly contain myself. Though I tried to play it cool, I was with Rabid and didn't want to look like a complete nerd (I am always a bit of a nerd). Just as luck would have it Rabid went to the restroom as Sparks entered the restaurant. I gasped, out loud. Then did a Winder fashioned double arm wave. I was sure she thought, "who is the goonberry waving at me?" The Winder of course. The three of us ate and chatted. Also in Winder fashion, I chatted the most and think I ate the most.

Sparks is adorable and even more petite than I had imagined. Between her and Rabid I felt like Stay Puff the Marshmallow Man. Well not that big, but they are both tiny. She is polite, witty, and a great listener. How can you not be when I am excited, you really have no choice.

The food was not too shabby either. I find that I am still craving the Butternut Squash Soup. Or maybe I am just craving the fantastic company. Either way I hope to have a meeting with that fabulous gal again.

PANIC

We must have copies of our driver's license and Social Security card in order to get our FBI background check complete. All in order to complete our adoption paperwork. Wouldn't you know Delmar says:
"I don't think I have a SS card."
"What!" I say.
"Who doesn't have a SS card?"

We then proceed to comb through every possible location. No SS card. I begin to panic. Delmar starts to reminisce. He managed to locate a wallet containing all of his student I.D. cards, rec. center memberships, swimming pool season passes, and a ticket to every concert he has ever attended. He has all of the aforementioned items and no SS card.

Trying to contain myself I ask:
"Is there anywhere you might have it?
Anywhere?"
He then states, "My mom might have it filed somewhere". Great, Just Great. Now I know we are in a mess.
To my surprise within 5 min. of his phone call Delmar's mom calls back and has the card.

Miracles do happen everyday.

Update

Thought I would update everyone on the Adoption Saga. It's been three months and I have almost finished the paperwork. This weekend Delmar and I get to spend Friday evening and all day Saturday at an adoption training. I know, I know you are all jealous.

Next we get to have our caseworker inspect our home and finances. Then we get to write a profile about ourselves and come up with an amazing photo to try and get a potential birth mother to notice us. Can't I just post "Pick Me! Pick Me!" Would be much easier.

Unlikely Friend

I am related, our husbands are brothers so not blood related, to a fantastic lady. Oohh, Lady makes her sound old. She is definitely not old. For the sake of her privacy we shall call her "Missy, the Coal Miner's Daughter". Missy and I have recently developed a deep friendship. What is the big deal about a good relationship with a sister-in-law. Let me tell you. On paper we are the most unlikely friends imaginable. Here is why:

Missy is a former cheerleader--I have always disliked cheerleaders
Missy is a pageant queen--I am what you might call a jock
Missy has a beautiful voice--I was cut from the 5th/6th grade choir
Missy always has perfect hair--My hair is never perfect, it is usually clean
Missy loves Celine Dion--I absolutely don't
The list can go on and on.

When we married the brothers, two months apart, I was worried. I knew Delmar and Von loved doing stuff together and I "knew" Missy and I never could. So much for what I "knew". Missy is sweet, loving and totally fun to be with. She is the type of person who will go the extra mile when helping you. She is smart, funny and completely loyal. Missy is a great listener and I love our "therapy sessions". When the family drama hits (and it hits often) I would be lost without her. So the old adage is true, you can't judge a book by it's cover.

Love you Missy.

Rabid is still correct, you can judge a person by the books they read.

Entitlement

I have had it with the "Something for Nothing" type personality. Why is it that there are so many people who think that the world owes them? I swear I am surrounded by people who are "entitled" to every good thing possible. How about working for something. Or just plain working. Better yet when you are given a gift show some gratitude. If you are given something small don't expect that in return you deserve something bigger. Be grateful you got anything at all.

I DON'T BELIEVE IT

I almost fainted last night. Something I never thought could happen, happened. Delmar took out the trash. He took it out without me asking, hinting, nagging, begging, pleading, tantrum-ing etc. I don't know what caused this sudden initiative on his part. I really should have rewarded him somehow. He probably was trying to get "The Sex" and I was just too shell shocked to take action. Or maybe he felt really bad for me after this Vomitphobe caught puke with her bare hands just to save the recently cleaned carpet. Either way I shall make it up to him tonight.

Mr. Mailman

Hey Mr. Mailman---Bring me my mail
Don't drive by my house--taking it somewhere else,
I have a mailbox right by the road
Sometimes my red flag is up--Oh Mailman!

Yes, this song is dedicated to pathetic mail delivery.
Our normal mail person is fantastic. She never mixes up my mail.
I don't know why, but at least once a week we have a substitute.
I often watch as the mail truck turns the corner and drives right past my house. I know we have large bushes in the breezeway, yet there is still a house there. It is really funny when they occasionally realize they missed the house and try to back up around the circle and fix it. Seriously though, is it that hard?

It Happened

If you follow this blog you know that I am vomit-phobic. I fear vomit more than anything. When teaching I told my class,"If you feel sick do not come and tell me. I give you permission this once to run in the hall to the bathroom".

Now I have a child of my own who doesn't understand "run to the bathroom", he is still 1 for a few more days. Last night he wasn't sleeping, kept crying, and was very restless. I tried to soothe him nothing worked. Finally at about 4 a.m. he drifted to sleep. At 5:30 a.m. Delmar heard him coughing the he started to cry. I went to soothe him again and reached into the crib to tickle his back. I felt moisture, who knows why, I sniffed my hand. VOMIT! I nearly panicked and called for Delmar. The poor little guy puked every 20 min. for the next couple of hours. Every time it happened he would give us this "what is going on" look. He cried and cried. I felt bad. Not bad enough to cuddle him. I was getting nauseous myself. I made Delmar late for work so he could help with the mess. Not a good day.

Facts are Facts

Some people don't like some people. Just how it works.


I am the type of person that doesn't/can't hide how I feel. My face shows it all. I am trying to deal with annoying people better than I did in my youth. I am trying to handle difficult people without blowing my cool. In my younger years this was a problem. That being said, if I avoid you or won't engage in conversation with you leave me be. I don't want to talk to you. Don't try to say I'm being mean to you. Being mean would be saying all the things that cross my mind when you lie, make false accusations, act like an idiot, etc., etc., etc. Being mean would be doing to you the spiteful things you do others. No, I don't want to hang out with you. It is what it is. I am who I am. I am not perfect. I would rather be not perfect than phony.

Sorry G.G.

Background info: G.G. is what The Menace calls my mother.

Tonight we were saying our family prayer. The Menace decided he wanted to help. Delmar was helping him say things like: thank thee for home, bless Dadda to get job, and bless Momma to have a baby. The Menace then blurts out, "and bless G.G. have baby too". It was all I could do to hold in my cackle laugh. I don't know what miracles could come of this, being that G.G. has removed the inner baby workings and all. You never know. Watch out G.G.!

Rose Colored Glasses

Today I have decided to take a new outlook on life. I have been feeling a bit sorry for myself lately and things need to change. Here is a sample of the new views I am going to take:

Old - I am bummed that I am still live this tiny house. Due to Delmar being self-employed we will need 1 more good tax return to get a loan.
New - I have a house with a working heater/air conditioner and a non-leaking roof. I don't need to use a baby monitor to hear The Menace. I can clean the entire house in 2 hours. Small house but great yard.

Old - Delmar works long hours and often on Saturdays. I need to see him more.
New - I have a great husband. Delmar has work and an income. He comes home every night and misses us as much as we miss him. My husband is hardworking and doesn't sit around waiting for miracles to happen.

Old - The fertility meds and lack of exercise have made me chubby.
New - I must have it good if I have enough food to eat that I am getting chubby. I am lucky to have the funds to spend on expensive fertility drugs.

Old - The Menace is consuming. I can't get away to workout let alone have some time for me.
New - I have a beautiful, healthy, happy son. My son loves being with me and is learning so many new things. This might not be true if I were making sure I had enough "me" time.

Old - I need new clothes. Everything is wearing out and becoming out of date.
New - There is an entire wardrobe waiting for you to return to that pre-pregnancy weight. Most of the items are classic staples and won't look dated. Besides I am not internationally known for my trend setting fashion
Ok, so this view isn't that positive. Sometimes the truth is the truth and you just have to deal. As for the rest--I feel better already.

I'M LOSING IT!

Lately I have had some serious brain flatulence. Here is a small list of my flub-ups:

I purchased a super size pack of paper towels. I only buy the "Select-A-Size" variety. The other variety produces a lot of waste. I bought a super size pack of the normal type. duh

Old navy jeans are on sale. I need jeans. Most of my denim have holes in the crotch. I really need to mix up my jean look. I wear the only two pairs without holes everywhere. I purchased two pairs. I bought two almost identical pairs. duh

Delmar is out of shampoo. I used a coupon at Costco to buy an extra large container. I placed it in the shower for immediate use. I bought conditioner. duh, duh, duh

Delmar asked what is wrong with me. I couldn't figure it out. I determined I have lost my mind. Then it dawned on me. I take The Menace (yes I am changing his pseudonym again, long story) with me everywhere. I spend my time singing, pointing out letters/numbers, keeping him from climbing out of the cart, etc., etc., etc. When Delmar purchases anything he is alone and can take time to think. I would love to see what he comes home with if he had to shop with The Menace. Then again maybe I don't.

Too Quiet

Often times you will hear people say that when their kid is too quiet they must be getting into trouble. Not the case with The Maniac. When he is too quiet it usually means he is pooping or has just finished the deed. He then plays by himself and doesn't bother a thing. It is tempting to leave him in the messy diaper. If there weren't things like diaper rash and child neglect he might end up in that poop for hours.

If You're Wondering...

If any of you are wondering why my blogging is so sporadic, here is why: I spread myself too thin. I sometimes think I am superwoman. I am currently managing 3 blogs--none very well mind you, raising a 22 month old, and trying to complete all the adoption paperwork. Don't ask why I do these things particularly the multiple blogs . It is too detailed and I don't want to get into it. I will do my best to produce quality posts as I obviously don't produce quantity.

Mt. Saint Helen

Note to Reader: If you are the squeamish type don't read this post. Look at the label TMI Just lettin' ya know.

I have Mt. Saint Helen developing on my chin. You would think that since I am entering my mid 30's this would stop. Oh no! It probably has to do with all the fertility hormone raging through my body. Nevertheless I have a mountain on my chin.
This mountain isn't like your typical blemish. It is huge, deep, and painful. I get these from time to time. You can't just leave it alone, let it come to a head, and drain. It must be hot packed, poked, and have massive pressure applied. If I am lucky the top(or side) will blow with a giant splat onto the mirror. Yes, I call this lucky the pain and pressure will finally be relieved. If I am not lucky there will be a dozen small pin pricks and a bright red tumor on the face. I have a feeling I'll be unlucky this time. Of course. I am hosting a baby shower for my sister Saturday. Won't it be great for dozens of people to see it? Fun stuff.

Adoption Saga

And so it begins.

Many of you know I have fertility issues. For those who weren't aware, never fear. It is not a particularly touchy issue for me(unless coming from the in-laws). It is what it is and I consider it to be one of my big trials in life. I am not completely barren. After 6 1/2 years of grief I was blessed with The Maniac. He is truly the biggest blessing in my life, aside from Delmar of course. The Maniac is almost 2 now and I have been trying for much of that time to produce a sibling. We do not want an only child, we were planning on at least 5 when we married. No luck.

As I am getting along in child bearing years we determined it was time. We started our preliminary adoption paperwork in November. Yesterday we met with our assigned case worker in what is called an "Intake Interview". 1 1/2 hours later we exited the building. We took with us a giant stack of paperwork, a 300 page book, and minus $1,015. There are additional forms we need to complete online. We must give them certified copies of birth certificates, marriage license, fingerprints, FBI background checks. We will need to attend a weekend adoption class, which is only offered once every 3 months and not again until April. There is more. I am getting tired listing it all, not to mention the list is most likely very boring for you.

The kicker is if I get pregnant(could happen I have been once) before being selected by a birth mother our file will be put on "hold". Once I give birth the file can not be reactivated until our baby is 1. At which time we will have exceeded the inactive time limit and will need to start the process again.

I know there is a reason for all of this. It is just a little overwhelming right now. As the process continues I will update. I will also do my best to find humor in all of this. Could be interesting.

SKI BUM

I am married to a pathological Ski Bum. What is that? You say there is no such thing. Come to my house and you will see it is true. Delmar has spent his entire life skiing and/or finding a way to pay for skiing. He learned to ski at such a young age he doesn't remember learning to ski. His skiing has been considerably hampered by his recent attendance of law school and opening his own law firm. Has this squelched the desire to ski? Absolutely not. Despite the depth this inner need to ski burns within, Delmar is pretty good about spending time with the Maniac and myself.

I recently discovered that I would be required to attend two baby showers over the next three weeks. I told Delmar "Why don't you plan to go skiing on the days I have baby showers, and spend the other Saturday with us?" He thought this was a great plan. Then it hit. Snow. The mountains are starting to gather the white stuff. You can see the drool dripping from his chin as he watches the local weather report. It looks as if this will be a great weekend to ski. The only problem is this isn't a Saturday I have a baby shower to attend. I feel bad that I don't want him to go. He skis dramatically less than when we were first married. Yet, I want to spend time with him. (No I can't go with him--our skills are well, let's say drastically different. I must wait until he relieves some pent up adrenalin.) What is a girl to do?

NOT FUNNY

Recently I had one of those days. When Delmar returned from work I handed over the Maniac and told him I needed a couple hours. Delmar so lovingly took over. Delmar gave the Maniac a bath as I was pleasantly reading blogs etc. on my computer. While thinking to myself that I had a wonderful husband I hear a terrifying thump in the tub, followed with a scream of panic for me. I jumped up nearly dropping the laptop in my haste. As I opened the bathroom door there sits my baby with blood covering the side of his forehead and the bathwater quickly turning pink. His face had this bewildered look as I screamed "What did you do!" at Delmar. In that instant I was sure he had a concussion which would explain why he wasn't crying. Suddenly, Delmar began to laugh and everything made sense. The Maniac was playing with his Crayola bathtub crayons. Which just so happen to turn the water colors. The aforementioned crayons also have the ability to leave marks on the skin which in turn wash away. Delmar had made the thump after the Maniac had marked up the side of his head looking like blood. All I could say as I turned for the door was "Not Funny". So much for a relaxing evening, it took all night to calm down.

Note: Delmar apologized profusely.