Motherhood Is Not For Pussies

This morning.

Me (standing at the side of Robbie's bed): Robbie...get up and finish getting ready for school. It's getting late.

Robbie: Mom, my stomach hurts. I'm staying home.

Me: Do you want some medicine?

Robbie: No. I just want to lay here for a few minutes.

Me: *SIGH*

note - to be fair, I really am concerned when my kids don't feel well, but see, this is a very common complaint from Robbie

Shelby: Robbie, get up and get ready for school. I have some medicine here that will make your stomach feel much better.

Robbie: Okay. *swallows pill*


15 minutes later Robbie and Shelby head out the door to school. Later, Shelby tells me that Robbie told her on the drive to school that his stomach was feeling so much better after that pill. Then she smirked at me. I looked at her like, "what??" "That miracle stomach pill I gave Robbie...was a Vitamin D tablet."


We then share a hearty "ha ha we pulled one over on the teen-ager" laughs.

Loving this...

So, awhile back the hanger fell off the back of a frame that holds a print of my favorite painting, Georgia O'Keeffe's "grey line with black, blue and yellow" - you know, the one that looks like a vagina. The frame itself was rather expensive so I really didn't want to replace it. What's a girl to do? Well, you head over to Home Depot, that's what you do. After perusing the possible solutions I stumbled on this fabulous little french cleat hanger by OOK/Hangman Products


This product ROCKS! Completely easy to use - it even has a removable bubble-level so you don't have to nail 700 holes into the wall just to get the picture to hang straight. The cost was about $8. They come in a variety of sizes depending on the weight of the item you are trying to hang.

Well worth the $8 price tag.

Random Thoughts

Is it really necessary to put instructions on a package of maxi-pads?

Motherhood Is Not For Pussies

Me (at work): This is Lauren.

Robbie (17): Mom?

Me: Yes?

Robbie: How old do you have to be to get a tattoo?

Me: Excuse me?

Robbie: A tattoo? How old do you have to be?

Me: You're not getting a tattoo so, I guess, ummm, 37.

Robbie: But mom, some of my friends have them.

Me (resisting the urge to say "well, if all your friends were to jump off a bridge...yada yada): No.

Robbie: Even if it is a meaningful tattoo?

Me: Define "meaningful".

Robbie: Mommmm...pleeeeeease! I wanna a tattoo!

Me: No.

*dramatic pause*

Robbie: Fine. Can I get my tongue pierced?

Me: No. Goodbye Robbie.

Robbie: But Mom! Wait!!

*CLICK*

I can do it! I can do it! Uh...no I can't.

Cooper - good dog, bad leaper.

Eggs....over easy

So, I'm ovulating. As I speak (or type as it were). Each month, when I feel the familiar twinges I can't help but think to myself, well that's one more egg down the drain. A couple of years ago Shelby and I attempted to get pregnant via AI. We did medicated IUI's but, after 6 attempts, we gave up. I regret that. It should have worked. My eggs were good. My fsh levels were great. My uterine lining was perfect each time they looked at it. My tubes were open. I had two sucessful pregnancies in the past. All of these things add up to a perfectly fertile woman. But it didn't work. I terribly want to experience pregnancy one more time. I just feel like I'm not done. Shelby is done - she does not want to go through the AI again. She hates the heartbreak that goes along with each failed attempt. I get it. I do. I just wish I could get her to change her mind. Maybe...one day.

But, right now, I am ovulating. In two weeks my period will start. And I will be that much closer to the time when it will all stop. Then it will be too late. All over. That makes me sad.

Jesse, Jesse, Jesse....

Cut his nuts off?? For real? That's just...well...odd, actually.