Tuesday, January 31, 2017
Friday, January 27, 2017
Thursday, January 19, 2017
Okay, so this post has absolutely nothing to do with Trump or Mexico-America relations. I try to steer clear of any online political discussions because they tend to be too much! and over the top! Instead, this post is all about childbirth x 7 and the consequential destruction of my girlie parts. That discussion is well within my margins of normal and acceptable. If you happen to be of the male gender, you might want to back-click your way right on out of this post.
For real. Click, click.
So no woman gets through pregnancy & childbirth unscathed. If you happen to be one of those
annoying unique women who did, don't tell the rest of us. I want you to have friends. So make something up. No one's gonna make you prove it, so at least say that you have wet your pants a time or two or that you have stretch marks on your boobs or something. We women are a pretty welcoming tribe, but we have our limits. Now with all that being said, I have a couple things that put me in that annoying unique bracket of moms. Even though I've grown and birthed seven babies, a few parts of me have come out on the other-side virtually in tact. Example #1: My Boobs. After a few stressful weeks with a few of my new babies, my docs and I came to the conclusion that my breasts were non-functioning in the milk department. We tried all kinds of tricks and herbs and devices, but it was a no-go. Apparently, the universe gave me boobs for decorative purposes only. Whatever. With that being the case, I never really got those awesome boobs that come along with pregnancy. They just kind of stayed regular the whole time. Not a lot of growing....and not a lot of shrinking. Therefore, I'm lucky enough that they are still pointing in basically the right direction and, for the most part, they resemble the boobs of my 20's. Woot woot. Yay me. Example #2: No Saggy Skin. Somehow, I managed to get through my 10 child-bearing years without gaining any noticeable stretch-marks or sagging skin. I attribute this to the fact that I started all of my pregnancies already round and squishy, so being pregnant really was not a great shock to my system. Things shifted a bit, but there was no outrageous body transformation. And I have been diligent in remaining round and squishy, so there's nothing to sag. I tell ya, being chubby has its perks. (I always knew it.) Now normally I would not recommend any mom confessing that she has no stretch marks and still has decent boobs after having a bunch of kids. But the fact that I'm literally falling apart in other physical areas will most certainly give me a pass, and make all the saggy boobed, stretch-marked moms glad they are not in my shoes. Because you see, I'm in the midst of a full-on vagy-vag cave-in.
Yeah, it just got weird. Sorry. (I told you men you should've clicked out.)
Everything looks ok, said the doctor upon her initial visual exam this afternoon, but let's try a few things. I felt metal and a warm light. Now bear down, she said. And it took a half a second of that for her to realize we had a little problem. OK STOP. You have a prolapse.
Well what exactly is prolapsed? I asked.
Well.........everything, she said.
Well it could be worse, she said. Nothing is actually exiting your body yet.
That's a thing, she says.
But, alas, the female body is miraculous and wondrous! Growing babies and birthing them has been such a joyful and amazing experience! But girlfriends, this Humpty-Dumpty's gotta get herself put back together again!
So I've got a hysterectomy and some organ maneuvering to look forward to. And-no offense to my bladder and rectum-but some 'wall-building' has got to happen to keep them out! And just like that....my vag is just like Trump. Who'd have thunk it?
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Wednesday, January 18, 2017
What do you do when you feel like you can't possibly spend another day washing the dishes and sweeping the kitchen floor? When you can't fathom figuring out what's for dinner yet again, and planning what kids have to be picked-up when and dropped-off where? When you think about all the things you used to be....skinny, funny, relevant, intelligent, educated, trendy, appreciated, respected, revered....and think they've all but disappeared? What do you do when you feel like the person you really are or were really meant to be is stuck in a world on a never-ending loop of scheduling practices and planning meals and checking homework and organizing the bathroom drawers?
Maybe cry for a minute, and then maybe eat one of your kids fundraiser candy bars, and then maybe write all your crap down.
I've heard that sometimes helps.
Sometimes momming is hard.
Tuesday, January 17, 2017
we are hardly ever alone,
and we have kids on our phones all the time,
so there is absolutely no way we would ever have legitimately inappropriate pictures. I have no doubt they would be accidentally texted to the softball parents group or forwarded to the math teacher, because that is just exactly how things go here. There are no such things as privacy and secrets when you have seven children in your house.
So when I refer to these pictures as inappropriate, I mostly mean funny...with just a hint of impropriety. I'm talking about pictures where you can alllllmost see his butt. Or maybe alllllmost see....his junk, as my friends and I like to call it.
It started a few weeks back when Brandon was sick in the hospital with a ridiculously severe case of mono. It was like mono on steroids, causing him to have some major spleen and liver issues, and giving him a week-long stay in the hospital. Our family and friends kicked into high gear and were the most awesome support team imaginable. They fed us, they took care of our kids, they loved us and they kept me laughing. And, for whatever disturbed reason, one of the things that kept me laughing was to send these two heathen friends of mine
|Sick Brandon, in no mood for my crap.|
As I was looking back at the pictures of him sorting laundry, I selected one. And that's when I realized just how fantastic the iPhone really is. It recognized the person and subject matter in the photo, and then chose all the other similar pictures, from the 8000 on my phone, and sorted them into one precious folder containing all of Brandon's Hits. It was a smorgasbord of hilarity and impropriety! Like a little gift from the Apple gods!
I'd be totally screwed.
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
Monday, January 9, 2017
The ones who just love their life!
The ones who wouldn't change a thing!
The ones whose kids are the sweetest,
constantly seeing their wonderful bits displayed for the world to see.
And I get it that sometimes that person is me.
Flaws and all.
Friday, January 6, 2017
Thursday, January 5, 2017
Today was a Snow Day.
And now I'm exhausted.
21 pairs of pants
7 coats and
And my house is wrecked and I look run over.
But I've certainly got some happy kids!!
And I'm also certain they will sleep really well tonight, and they will be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and
21 pairs of pants
7 coats and
I had to make our Snow Day Brownies. It's a very special recipe that I expect will be passed down from generation to generation in our family. It includes.....drumroll.....brownies made from a box, sprinkled with powdered sugar 'snow'. Snow Day Brownies. Of course the kids asked about the brownies as soon as they woke up, and of course there was not a mix to be found in the house. So I made a quick, but yummy cake instead and they didn't notice a thing. And I reminded them that they are so lucky to have an above-average mom, and they all agreed. :) But now I'm too tired to be one-more-bit productive, so it's oatmeal for dinner and then straight to bed. And the kids will quickly remember that I'm just average, and I'll be drinking wine and not caring.
And that's kind of like every single day here.