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I was perusing my blogroll the other day and found a great post of Megan’s over at Velveteen Mind.

She quotes from Meet the Robinsons:

From failing you learn.  From success…not so much.

Lately, I feel as if I am failing everything (perfectionist) and everyone (people pleaser) though, and it gives me pause to wonder what it is that I(‘m supposed to be learning.

For example, this morning Kelsey and Colton were in prime form, willfully disregarding my entreaties to, “Please eat! … Please quit reading riddles and get ready for school!  … Get your socks and shoes on, now please!… Eat your breakfast! … Socks and shoes! … Leave the dogs alone and do what I’ve asked you to please! :repeated ad nauseum: ”  I quickly transformed from harried, albeit polite, mother to a harsh monster as their mouths got smarter and sassier, not to mention none of the morning necessaries had gotten done yet.  As my normal voice had gone unheeded three or more times already, I morphed into yelling.  And that didn’t work either.  So then the flood of emotion started to build, as my inner dialog focused on my inadequacies as a mother – surely I was a failure as my children wouldn’t obey me in getting ready for school, surely it was my fault that my daughter’s eyes were rolling every time my mouth opened, surely this lack of respect for authority was going to wind them both up in prison on down the road – and they sensed it.  Colton ran over to me, breakfast STILL uneaten, and tried to hug me when I leaped over the edge.


Yes, I swore at him.  Yes, I felt like my stature went from 5’5″ to miniscule in mere nano-seconds.  FAIL!

Kelsey and Colton both chimed in chorus, “You hate us,” and pouted.

I had to regain my composure instantaneously.

“No, guys, I do not hate YOU.”

“Yes you do!!!”

“No, please, let me finish. I am very sorry for swearing at you and yelling, and wish that I could take it back.  That was very wrong of me.”

Deep breath.

“Can we please just get along, follow instructions and have a relatively easy morning from here on out?”

Solemn nods.

And that’s just one example.

I feel like I’m floundering in so many ways.  And I’m left wondering, what is the lesson in this floundering?

All I can come up with is that I can’t make it all better on my own.  I can’t do all of this on my own.  And that I am NOT a perfect person.

But God is, and was, and will be.  And I just need to lean on Him more in times like these.  Forget pulling myself up by the bootstrap and ask Him to help pull me out of the slimy pit I’m in, to ask Him to put my feet on a firm rock.


It’s been a frozen tundra here in NoCo lately. 

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas indeed, as the snow we got last week has yet to melt.  In other words December has arrived.  And with it, some frigid temperatures that have kept me housebound.  I’m in need of a good long run but it’s too cold outside and I have no indoor substitute – no treadmill, no gym membership, and no indoor track that I’m aware of. 

Christopher has been teething and as a result has become extremely clingy and light in his sleeping.  Monday he got all of 30 minutes in daytime sleep.  As a result his wakeful time was quite irritable and fussy.  So, Tuesday when I got him to sleep I held him long enough to ensure he was really out, then carried him over to the swing and began to lower him down ever-so-gently when POP! went his eyes.  I quickly retreated to the couch and sat with him, where he fell back asleep and we were one flesh for 2 hours.  I was so glad that he slept that long, but was frustrated that I was rendered unable to get any of the household things done, and they need done badly as I’ve been sick and let a lot of things go while trying to recuperate from this nasty sinus bug.

My other beef with the temps  is that our dogs have been indoors for a week and are beyond squirrely.  Sometimes they wrestle to get out their energy, but that is LOUD and not exactly the safest with a baby crawling around.  Consequently, I feel like I am shouting “No!” all day long and trying to divert their attentions to other pursuits.

I’ve been wrestling with parental guilt too as Kelsey and Colton have gotten into some bad habits of late, and I find myself wondering at the end of the days what I have done to foster such whiny, selfish, and disrespectful behaviors.  I know that a lot of this is them being cooped up too – indoor recesses for a week due to the cold – as well as me being sick and thus not sticking to our routines, but….sometimes having an understanding doesn’t always help the experiencing much.

I’ve been trying to find more activities to engage them to try and curb the insolence and I’m getting mixed results.  I had the kids make salt dough ornaments with me last weekend and we painted them together when we were done, which was fun.  They’ve been helping me out more with cooking – just last night they helped me fill and roll enchiladas for our supper and they really seemed to enjoy it.  But the bickering and the obstinence over daily minutiae (what to wear, what to eat for breakfast, not following directions etc.) continues.  Kelsey’s sensory issues seem to be popping up in the nature of her fits at home, so I’m having to re-discipline myself into making sure there’s structure and interjecting little ways for her to receive input here as school has pretty much determined that she’s compensating well enough at school and thus there is no need for them to intervene – something that I agreed to at the beginning of the year as things were going really well.

So…pity party for me, lol.  It’s been a hard few weeks, and I sometimes forget that “This too shall pass.”

I just want to be understood.

This lifelong desire stems from so many different experiences I’ve had in life.

As a child, I was often told that my feelings were wrong. Unfortunately, as a child I didn’t realize that feelings are not like facts and thus not so easily relegated into the right or wrong categories.

Then, there were all those times when I couldn’t skillfully articulate just what was on my heart and used a word or two that completely changed the message I was trying to convey. I’m grateful that God gives us the Holy Spirit to correct this in our prayers to Him and that He knows EXACTLY what it is that I’m trying to spit out, but it doesn’t always work that way when conversing with other humans.

I hate being perceived as something so contrary to that which I wish to be about. For example, I recently was told that someone close to me felt like I looked down on them because they didn’t hold a degree, that this person thought I treated them as dumb and ignorant. It hurt me deeply to hear this – partly because that is so disparate from my values system, which is that we ALL have something to bring to the table of life regardless of our socioeconomic status, education (or lack thereof), religion, race, etc., but mostly because in this misunderstanding, another person was caused pain. I’m a lover not a fighter, and to cause others pain, however unintentionally, always grieves my soul.

Sometimes, this desire to be understood, and thus accepted by others and loved, manifests in a tendency to overshare. Sometimes I don’t understand myself and share for the purpose of having another person weigh in. Related to my childhood admonitions that my feelings were so far off base, sometimes I share as a means of checking my reality.

But a sense of cautiousness has grown over the years. As I’ve tried to make sense of things on my blog these past few years my sharing has hurt those who are close to me. Unfortunately, as much as I’ve claimed it’s about me and not them it hasn’t helped.

So, I have been in a quandary lately about what to share, what not to share, and everything in between. The things that are big in my life right now, and likely to be written about, are probably not best to be shared on a blog as they concern my close relationships – and I’m trying to deal with that privately and avoid dishonoring someone I love by oversharing.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Oh my….

Friday Fragments?

So I have a post in my drafts folder , one of many right now, that I’m working on. It’s titled Super Bawl Sunday (watch for it soon) as it is about how God totally met me where I was a couple of weeks ago, and it is crystal clear that He arranged a couple of “coincidences,” for this little meeting to occur. Said meeting of me and my God caused a bit of a breakdown in an “I can’t do this [on my own]” fashion. Said breakdown inspired other people in my life to share their struggles….and now I’m heading up the organization of a ladies prayer/mentoring group at my church right now. Amazing how God uses people to facilitate events that have a greater purpose than originally imagined.

My good friend Jen/Huckdoll recently re-entered SAHMhood also and has a post up that pretty much describes my blogging state too.

On Monday, I saw my lady doc to get some “hardware installed.” Apparently so did Amanda at The Mom Job….her rendition suffices for now, LOL.

I got a new haircut – rather, it’s not a new style for me but it’s been awhile since I’ve sported this particular cut, almost a year – on Wednesday. My hairdresser said when it was done, “I like you so much better with short hair. I concur, even if Charlie Brown called me “butch.” Oh, yeah….he did.

Been running/walking everyday for a week now. 50 minutes of activity minimum. Feeling increasingly good with this.

Hoping that all of the above might rekindle some of the fire between Charlie Brown and I. Things are a little quiet on that front right now and I am getting cranky about it.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

So, all the cool kids do it….I figured I probably would too…if I can promise to get on regularly enough to participate in Mrs. 4444’s Friday Fragments.

Friday Fragments?

So…. let’s go.

**** Li’l Guy started rolling over last Saturday, at 3 1/2 mos. Since he’s begun to roll, he now fancies a life of mobility and has been spotted getting on all fours and pushing with his legs – and has started making headway. He has yet to coordinate his arms, however, and I’m hoping full-fledged crawling will be at least another month away. Can you imagine?!?

**** I have yet to write up Li’l Guy’s birth story and he is as mentioned above, pushing 4 months old. For shame.

**** I have been in a weird funk of late. It could be that I’m looking down the barrel of post-partum depression. Or dealing with a form of post-traumatic stress disorder on the heels of nearly dying. Or, switching to a different tense of conditions, it could be pre-menstrual syndrome. Good ole PMS. Wait, Heather, aren’t you exclusively breastfeeding? I mean what with the whole ‘I nursed Li’l Guy come hell or highwater’ attitude while you were in the hospital – you are still nursing right? Ahh, yes, I am. And yet, I had not one, but two periods in July, 21 days apart. My OB/GYN had the nerve to call me “one of those lucky women,” and I had the nerve not to slap her across the face. So, going off my mental state, I am right on schedule for another dousing of estrogen and such. Add to it just some general senses of failures as a Christian mother, and well… you know, a lot on my plate right now.

**** The older kids start school on Wednesday. I am both elated and yet oddly enough, given my complaints about the stresses of dealing with 2 school-aged siblings over the summer, saddened by this. On the one hand, ROUTINE!! On the other, well, uh, ROUTINE!!

**** In effort to do just one thing that we’d originally planned to do this summer, before I got sick, we went camping this weekend. ‘Cept that we only ended up staying for just over 24 hours due to weather. Tent camping with 3 kiddos, one of whom is under 4 months, kind of requires perfect weather. And we got torrential rains with gusty winds last night/this morning. Our gear kept us warm and dry; however, being forced into the tent at 7:45 last night kind of pre-empted LMNOB’s nighttime pee before bed. And despite her gear keeping her warm and dry, she herself did not. Yeeeeeah. She was a good sport about it, as were we – I mean, it was completely cruel of nature to expect her super teensy bladder to make it 10 hours without release – but her warm nighttime clothes were not re-wearable despite the fact that her bag (actually MY mummy bag) was virtually un-touched by her leakage. So, yeah, we packed up and we are now home sweet home.

**** As mentioned in the title, we are still reeling from sticker shock of my medical bills. Much tighter budget than we are used to, sometimes to the point of blind faith – thankfully God has always provided an AFLAC check, a love offering from church, or a side job for Charlie Brown at just the right times. God is so good to us, and yet I struggle with worrying still. I am learning, slowly, that Jesus meant what He said in Matthew 6:25-34. I should know this inside and out after the big crisis this summer, but unfortunately I am very much like the Israelites, who after seeing and walking through a parted Red Sea, who were fed DAILY with manna and quail (BTW…could you GET any more organic than sustenance from HEAVEN and an un-chemical-ed earth? How many of us would LOVE that now?!?!) and basically had every need met still worried and grumbled about the hard things they were going through. So….still learning. Still growing. Still a work in progress.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

I just opened yet another stack of medical bills and my spirits are struggling to stay up, to have faith in God’s providence.

I KNOW that He has done so much for us already, but it’s almost as if our health care system is gambling with God right now. Oh yeah, well I see your $5,500 raised by your churches and I’ll raise you $8,800 plus the unknown of the pulmonology bill that has yet to come. Or something like that, as I’m not a gambler.

And let’s not forget that the state of Colorado wrote off a great portion of our hospital debt – like $65k worth of a $68k bill – through the Colorado Indigent Care Program. Thanks be to God, because without that we’d be in financial ruin right now. But here’s the rub, and one that especially grates at my husband’s ego as well as those of many others who qualify for CICP: we are not “indigent” by definition of the word:

in⋅di⋅gent [in-di-juhnt]
1.lacking food, clothing, and other necessities of life because of poverty; needy; poor; impoverished.
a.deficient in what is requisite.
b.destitute (usually fol. by of).

Rather, my husband happens to be a hard-working man who works 50+ hours/week at a physically demanding job making pretty good money for our area. His employers offer health insurance, and we had it after I quit my job with the city for Lil Guy’s prenatal care through his birth. However, the premium was scheduled to go up, again, s of May 1, 2009. To $880/month for our family, with a $5,000/person deductible, and then 60%/40% co-insurance after the deductible. Max out of pocket expenses in a year was $20k. Now, I don’t know about you, but to pay virtually another mortgage payment every month so that I was assured that I wouldn’t have to pay more than the $20k that I don’t have sitting around for medical expenses didn’t quite fly with me. We’d already downsized our income to have me be at home with the kids, and couldn’t really afford this blow either.

But, rather than be irresponsible and have NO insurance at all, we knew that we needed to look for a plan B. So we found an independent broker and got our own health plan, then terminated Charlie Brown’s before it renewed on those awful terms.

The only problem was that we had a 2 week gap.

And I happened to get deathly ill in that 2 week gap. Just 4 more days and we would have made it.

I’m grateful that CICP exists, don’t get me wrong. But it’s not enough. Thankfully God has supplemented us with the contributions from our church.

And I’m angry that people removed from these kinds of struggles are pitching a fit about health care reform – because this kind of thing happens EVERY DAY in America. I’m angry that people who work hard every day are being bankrupted because of medical expenses. I’m angry when I hear health care workers complaining that they have to do more with less – because really, what industry ISN’T being told that right now? Health care costs are TOO high. Particularly the insurance part.

I don’t know that government insurance is the answer necessarily, because I haven’t read up enough on the policy specifics to know what the bottom line is for taxpayers. And because quite honestly, where would the money for it come from? We are already tapped out fiscally as a country and if we just continue to spend our dollars will soon become as worthless as the German Marks did during the Great Depression.

But those naysayers who don’t even want to have the conversations about doing something, anything, bother me. That’s all I’m saying. I think.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Recently I read a book called “The Shack.” The story centers on a man named Mack and a weekend he spends with God, manifest as the Trinity. Without giving the plotline away, or even endorsing the book for that matter, [another post, coming up] I wanted to share a part of the book that touched me in light of my recent health struggles. Mack is talking with Jesus about the church, to which Jesus has just referred as “the woman I’m in love with.”

Mack paused, searching for the right words. “You’re talking about the church as this woman you’re in love with; I’m pretty sure I haven’t met her.” He turned away slightly. “She’s not the place I go to on Sundays,” Mack said more to himself, unsure if that was safe to say out loud.

Mack, not unlike a lot of people – churched or unchurched – hasn’t seen love in action that is in keeping with the Scriptures’ examples of what the church should be. So widespread is this problem that Christian band Casting Crowns even has a song called “If We Are the Body,” begging the questions:

But if we are the Body
Why aren’t His arms reaching
Why aren’t His hands healing
Why aren’t His words teaching
And if we are the Body Why aren’t His feet going
Why is His love not showing them there is a way
There is a way

But I have no question in my mind whether God’s Spirit is moving at our church. Over the years, we have seen prayer vigils for the gravely ill, outreach to families who’ve lost children, and so much more. And yet, while we see these things and know that our family is one ruled by Love – that is, Christ himself – it doesn’t seem to make as deep of an impact until one experiences it personally.

From the very beginning of our ordeal I called out to my church family, knowing I could count on our congregation. Thinking my pain was related to nerves, I asked for a ride to and from my chiropractor. And within a short time I received “feet,” or wheels rather, that were willing to go with me.

Later, after being rushed to the hospital via ambulance, our church secretary worked tirelessly as our mouth and ears, communicating our needs to the body on a regular basis. In response to these reports, we had an amazing fleet of prayer warriors calling to the throne for us, as well as countless “angels” who voluntarily cared for Lil Guy at hours during which most of us prefer to sleep. Many of said “angels” volunteered on multiple nights, too. These actions didn’t just minister to us, but to so many working at the hospital as well.

But it didn’t stop there. Many of our congregation prepared meals for us upon my release from the hospital. Others helped around the house while I was incapacitated. Still others transported me to and from doctor visits. A few took the older kids on playdates, which provided a break from their stress and was so invaluable for them!

Financially – I can’t even begin to write about this without tearing up – despite massive write-offs from a hospital program, we still wound up with several sizeable bills, not to mention the loss of Charlie Brown’s wages as he took time off. The generous donations from the people of our church to help offset these shortfalls have totaled in the thousands! Added to it was an unexpected, rather significant contribution from the church of Christ in Craig. God’s love and provision have been proven to us over and over throughout this trial, and mostly through the actions of His people.

In an e-mail I sent to our church in June, I wrote the following:

Throughout this whole ordeal I kept reflecting on Philippians 4:13, and I now have a new take on this special verse. You all were [are] the body of Christ – his hands to prepare meals and his feet to run errands, his ears to listen, his shoulders to lean upon and find comfort, and so much more. Now when I read, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me,” I think of Christ in totality, not just the Savior who died for me but the people who make up his body here on earth today as well.

When Charlie Brown and I think about the church’s role during this entire experience, the love and support is overwhelming. We are forever grateful. For ALL of it. Words cannot express the depth of our thanks for the help we have received.

We hope that we are able to return the favor several times over to our brothers in sisters in the future. Moreover, we plan on sharing our story with the Macks in our lives so they may see that God’s Love is working right here in under our very noses.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

The transition from pregnancy to having a new family member has never been an easy one for me and Charlie Brown.

With LMNOB we were so terribly young in both chronological age and our spiritual maturity. Charlie Brown had a habitual sin in his life that had plagued him from early adolescence into his adulthood, making our already formidable passage from newlyweds to Surprise! You’re-New-Parents that much more difficult. Add a dash of my depressive tendencies and a shake of financial woes and we were doomed from the get go, right?

Apparently not, because things got better, slowly, and not too long after LMNOB we felt like we could face this transition again, albeit on a more planned basis. I didn’t have nearly the depression issues with Punkinhead that I’d had with LMNOB, but the demands of parenting a pre-term newborn with an often trying toddler (now we know that her “difficult” and “stubborn” behaviors were mostly attributable to her sensory integration problems, but at the time, not so much) made his babyhood a hard time for me, as well as for Charlie Brown because again his sin came into the light. Sparing a lot of details, suffice to say that this go round was especially tough for me and went on for years. We went to counseling, did Dynamic Marriage, I had another depressive episode and finally, the struggle culminated [for me] when I ended up having an equally sinful emotional affair with another man. Fortunately, as I got further and further into my fantasy land with this man who made me feel so good, God humbled me to the point of repentance when it became clear that my “affair” was all in my mind and quite unrequited. This prompted a lot of soul searching for me over the course of 2006 and 2007 (leading to the creation of this blog) and late 2007 and early 2008 was a monumental healing period for us.

So much so that a year ago we began a huge journey of faith together and decided to try for another baby. When we began talking about it I expressly mentioned my fear of the post-partum transition, noting that while we’d both grown and matured since the last time, that while the habitual sin seemed finally conquered, PRAISE GOD!, and discussable [as opposed to something that was unmentionable even when only tempted and not actually something in which he was indulging], I knew that Satan likes to sneak in through any cracks of the armor so to speak, and I was scared of that. I was scared of this period more than I was scared of the financial repercussions of me quitting my job to stay at home with the kids. I was scared of this transition more than I was of sacrificing my independence and sense of self-identity. Charlie Brown assured me that things would be different, that they already WERE different this time.

And I trusted that. I trusted him, but more importantly, I trusted Him. I believed that God would see us through and victory would be had for His glory.

I still believe that. However, I’m realizing that it’s taking work to keep out of that danger zone. That in order to bring God glory in this situation, we are still accountable to making the right choices. That going through the motions each day is not the same thing as living with purpose and connection. And just this morning, a situation arose that triggered some of these old feelings for me, indicating that Charlie Brown and I need a good, honest check-in with each other. I can’t let this become an elephant in the room and dance around it on tiptoes. We are called to be like iron sharpening iron and that is necessary for us right now.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Well friends, I am officially HEALTHY. Had my last follow-up appointment with the Infectious Disease doc yesterday (sounds so insidious, as if I could be living my own personal Outbreak, right?) and all is well in my body. Which I pretty much had figured, seeing as the pulmonologist was pleased with my progress the week before, AND (perhaps most significant to me) I was able to do a Billy Blanks DVD on Sunday. All the way through. And I’m alive to tell about it.

Switching gears…..

So, this SAHM thing is not so new anymore, as we’ve hit the 6 month mark this month; however, until 2 months ago, LMNOB and Punkinhead were still in school and Lil Guy was yet to be born. Now we don’t have school and Lil Guy is here with his need to feed and interact and all that other time consuming stuff that newborns require. And truth is, I’m finding it all a bit overwhelming. Not PPD overwhelming, but more like it’s-4 o’clock-in-the-afternoon-and-I’m-as-yet-unshowered-in-a-uniform-of-yoga-pants-and-a-nursing-cami-accessorized-with-spit-up-and-crumbs-from-today’s-lunch-dinner-needs-cooked-the-house-is-a-pit-and-your-father-is-going-to-be-home-soon-kids-overwhelming, can you hear me gasping for air?

I’d like to think that this is normal, that due to my sickness we lost a month of the transitioning period and really we are dealing with the first month stuff. I’d like to think that a few more weeks and we’ll get this gig down pat. But nagging somewhere in the back of my mind is a voice that plants the seeds of doubt: What if this is it? What if you changed your life so dramatically, gave up your self for this chaos?

Immediately upon feeling these things, is the guilt. The reminder that I chose this, planned for this, and that I knew going into it that there would be sacrifices and days like these. And, of course, I’m wondering this and writing this on the heels of a few bad days where the kids’ listening abilities have been highly selective and bordering on downright oppositional.

Yesterday, after multiple tantrums from my spawn children and yelling for the umpteenth time which yielded still unsatisfactory results, I had a little mama meltdown fantasy, totally in my mind, whilst externally putting on a sympathetic and compassionate face as I had a heart to heart with LMNOB, the lead instigator in the week’s events.

But what do you do when your child tells you she wishes things are the way they used to be before the newest sibling came along; including your physical appearance? Yes, apparently I am raising a shallow little mean girl as she so kindly pointed out that it “looked like I had two stomachs,” and she wished that I looked like I did before Lil Guy. Yes, I watched yesterday’s Oprah where we are told as parents not to defend, fix or deflect our children’s feelings but to just hear them. I get the whole validation thing, but what are we to do when our children want change? And change that we are unwilling/unable to accommodate?

In dealing with all of this I’ve come to face my old temptations. Those of eating….remember my post about eating a whole pan of brownies? Wasn’t just a one-time occurrence, and sadly I don’t think I can justify a daily caloric intake rivaling that of Michael Phelps’ due to me being a breastfeeding mother. Hyperbole, there in that comparison? Perhaps a smidge, but the fact remains that I need to get a grip on my eating of late. Moreover, I need to be more conscious about the reasons why I am eating, because I don’t think it is all hunger.

The other temptation? To zone. To waste time and not be present with my kids or in tending to my household. To surf the web and to just escape.

My solution to these temptations is to return to structured days with the kids. Structured, scheduled bed and wake times, structured activities each day, and goals to achieve for myself, the kids, and the house chores. Should be interesting given that we have a newborn who can often throw a wrench into things, particularly sleep, but if the kids get more structure again some of the behavioral stuff will wane (hopefully) which will (again, hopefully) decrease some of the overwhelm I am feeling.

Wish me luck~

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Recently my friend Angela began blogging, and as often happens when one begins to read someone new, introductions to other, new-to-you bloggers are made. Angela reads MckMama, who has this fabulous blog carnival/meme called:

MckMama explains:

Embarrassed that your child urinated in their pants at your mother in law’s house?Ashamed about the cupcakes you ate for dinner? Would you like to hide the fact that you put your child to bed in their dirty clothes from the day instead of in clean pajamas? We’ll don’t be! Not Me! Monday was born out of my desire to admit some of my imperfections and reveal a few moments I’d rather forget. You may find it therapeutic to join in and do the same thing!

So without further ado, here’s my attempt at my first Not Me! Monday

I definitely did not, in effort to boost my protein intake as recommended by a home health nurse, take out my [realtively] new Food Network blender (read: not cheap), throw some protein powder, milk, peanut butter and a banana in and proceed to blend without first remembering that the seal was not in place, but had been thrown in the blender by Someone (Not Me!) last time it was washed. I definitely did not put 2 and 2 together when the smoothie oozed all over out the bottom, and, because this didn’t happen to me, I did not later fish out the shredded bands that were once the seal to my beloved blender with a saddened heart. That would be completely boneheaded!

I surely didn’t place a towel on the sheet and sleep on it the other night when Lil Guy decided to wet my bed, and also proceeded to spit up like Mt. Vesuvius, during a midnight diaper change. Further, I didn’t continue to sleep like this for a few more days before changing the sheets – that would be disgusting!

Finally, I definitely have NOT been eating family size servings of the desserts that have come with the meals people have been bringing over. For example, an entire pan of brownies (that the family never even got to taste) disappeared over the course of 2 days, and I definitely did NOT eat them ALL.

Or maybe I did and that is why the pregnancy weight is no longer falling off me 😉

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

I'm a 30-something with a bend toward the spunky and unconventional. I like to accent big words and academics with slang and pop culture - makes me a little more well-rounded. My husband and I follow Christ and am training up my 3 precious kiddos to do the same. This means that I'm human and I fail - a LOT, but there is beauty in sharing that with others. Last, but not least, in case you haven't noticed, I'm prone to rambling. It may seem unrelated to you but the little "tangents" I go on are all interconnected in my mind!

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