They're growing up.

(warning: sex and drugs as a child mentioned.)

All children grow up. All people grow. It's just harder when it's your children and you weren't the best behaved teen on the block.And neither was your spouse.

So many people think of 11, 12, 13, 14 year olds as very young. Hell, even I think it's young. But is it really so young that it's shocking that kids at these ages think about sex? That kids these ages, think about drinking and getting high? That kids these ages, are actually doing things that would give their parents heart attacks?

I look at my children, especially my daughter and recount my pre-teen and early teen years. I think about how I will kill them or lock them away somewhere far away from the outside world if they even mentioned thinking about the things their father and I were doing at those ages.. But, is that the smart way to think about it? And if talking to my children is the right way to go about this, when is the right time to start? When they are too young to even understand? Or when the thought are already in their heads, and they're already acting on them?

Between 12-14 years old, I had started by giving head to high school boys, running away from home to be with high school boys and 18-25 year old men, shoplifting, drinking, smoking pot, popping pills, having sex, getting pregnant, being locked up in juvenile detention, skipping class, skipping school, getting kicked out of my parents house, and dating a man 7.5 years older than me. The hubs, was still drinking, smoking pot, and went on to snort coke, smoke crack, shooting up heroin, selling firearms to big shit drug dealers, moving from institution to institution.

How do I prevent my children from doing the shit I did? While, yes, my parents are what exposed me to drugs and alcohol, but they didn't introduce me to sex. In fact, when I did ask my mother at 6 years old, "how does a mommy get a baby in her belly?" I was told to go to my room. When I did ask my mother what sex was, I was grounded for a week. Maybe that's what did it to me? Maybe their fear of teaching me about sex, and honoring my body, and acting like it was a sin, was why I became so interested? Maybe, my parents addiction is why I started drinking and smoking weed so young? But how does that explain the hubs? His parents never did any drugs, yet he ended up strung out on dope by 14? How does that happen?

How do I get right and wrong through these kids' heads? How do I make it clear to them, that they can talk to me about anything? How do I get it through to them, that I will not judge or belittle them? That I won't make them feel stupid, or disgusting for asking? And then, how do I teach them to make the right decisions? Especially when both the hubs and I have made such awful ones?

Everyone always has the same answer, just keep talking to them. But how young is too young? When do I start? When I was Thomas' age I was hanging out with boys kissing behind houses. How do I talk to him, when he is still so little?

About a month ago, Thomas came into my room in the middle of the night wanting a drink or something. As like most nights, I was curled up with the hubs, with my head on his chest and my body wrapped around him. When my 5 year old came in, he asked if we were "doing sex". So is now the right time to talk to him about this? The parent in me says it's way too young to even think about starting to talk about these things. Then the still a child part of me, tells me to start talking, while I have my chance.
Back when I was pregnant with Bailey and Thomas asked how she got in my tummy, I explained to him that a man plants a seed inside a women. And that seed grows into a baby. Not a lie, exactly, but still not disturbing details. It was a good enough answer for him. But now the sex thing? When he asked, it was around 2 in the morning. I brought him into the living room, and asked him if he remembered how a baby got into a mommy's belly, which he did. So, I told him that sex was the way a man got the seed into the women, and that married couples have sex for two reasons, to make a baby and to share their love with each other. I don't know if it was the right answer. I don't know if it was too "mature" for him, or too "childish" for him. He seemed pleased with the answer, grabbed some water and went back to bed.

Now, I realize that his asking was just the tip of the iceberg. I have three children who are going to grow. And it is my responsibility to make sure they grow into good, honest, smart, self-confident people. It is my responsibility to teach them right from wrong. It is my responsibility to be the one to answer the embarrassing questions, not to shove them away to learn on their own.

But how, and when do I do this?

This, That, and the other blog?

Things have been a bit hectic lately around here with holidays, illnesses, money, a new blog....ya know, the usual parenting crap..

Holidays
We have not even begun to make a dent in our Christmas Shopping this year. I think we only have one small gift per child so far. Strangely, this does not bother me. We will get them a bit more of course but we are putting all the focus on family this year. My children will be getting more than enough from grandparents and my aunt. They will be taken care of. As the past 3 Christmas's I am a bit depressed this holiday season. It means it's the third Christmas with out Nana with us. And it also means the 3rd anniversary of her death is fast approaching. I still have trouble believing she is not with us. I miss her so much still. But, I will put on a brave face and cherish my children who are here with me.

Illnesses
Thomas is currently sick as a dog. On Friday morning, in the wee hours of the morning Thomas fell coming down his ladder and hit his head. Through out the day he complained of a head ache and we thought he had a concussion after puking in the car. It ended up being some wicked virus. He had a fever ranging from 102-104 all Friday night, Saturday, Sunday, & Monday. Tuesday I sent him to school as his fever was gone, but when he came home he looked like complete crap. Stuffy nose, teary eyes, sore throat. So he stayed home again today. Last night he slept 5-12 and 2:30-8:30, 13 hours. He is sleeping right now, been out for a couple hours, though has not had a fever all day.

Money
Tom is working. *Hears the cheers* We finally paid October and November's rent, December will be paid Thursday. (Tomorrow) Our landlord let us sign a 6 month lease, so we won't have to worry about trying to move in December which is always lay off season it seems. Also, he asked us to keep an eye out for 3 bedroom condo's and town houses that are up for sale or foreclosed. He is always looking to buy new property and would be willing to let us break our lease, rent to us, with option to buy. I don't think anything will come of it, but it still felt great to receive the offer. Damn me and my glass is half empty attitude.

New Blog?
With 2011 starting, I am going to try to do a 365 project. I've been wanting to do this for a couple of years now and keep forgetting. Oops. My buddy Trish is planning on doing it, so I got the reminder this year loud and clear. You can go on over to "The Unexpected 365 Project". Make sure you book mark it, or you can grab the button and link up as well!

http://theunexpected365.blogspot.com/

Chuck E. Cheese, Dope Sick, and Photography.

It's that time of the week again! Head over to The Un Mom and get Random!

Well, I still haven't posted about Bailey's 1st Birthday. I had a very busy weekend filled with celebrating her birthday on Saturday, then going to Hell Chuck E Cheese on Sunday to celebrate a very special 6 year old's birthday. The kids had an absolute blast! Even if mommy did leave with the world's worst migraine that a Ibuprofen 800mg couldn't even touch. I cannot believe 20 tokens for each boy lasted for 3 hours! Thanks to Collin playing a machine that had no tickets, and mommy speaking up, we got an extra 550 tickets! One employee filled the machine for us and told us the tickets coming out were ours for the take! All 550 tickets! The boys ended up with 808 total, so this was an awesome surprise! Bailey loves the little pink stuffed ball she left with. Bailey had a blast crawling all around, playing in the toddler zone, riding with Chuck E and a couple other "rides". My Aunt Alice was there, she has basically become the surrogate Nana of the family. She spend the whole time playing with the kids trying to get a picture with each great niece and nephew there. All Nana's great grand children at the party. Totally melted my heart! Best part of the whole day! I was asked to photograph the party and am devastated with the results! I don't know if it was the lighting, my switching from Manual to Aperture Priority or what, but I hated most of the pictures. Fortunately the parents are happy with the results. That's all that matters.. Right?! 

(Click to enlarge)

After a weekend of total chaos, I've been feeling pretty cruddy.. Not like getting sick cruddy, but actually feeling dope sick. Not a feeling I'd wish on my biggest enemy! (That is if I had one..) Just overly sore, feeling super lazy and tired, with no desire to get anything done, though the house is trashed after such a weekend. I'm freezing like you wouldn't believe and cannot stop sweating. I hate feeling like this, all I can think is if I just got a hold of one bag all this pain and misery would go away as soon as the plunger is pressed. Stupid thoughts. Go away. 

Last Tuesday I mentioned a Craigslist ad for someone to photograph a birthday party. Well I never gotten a reply. Whatever. I didn't think I would get the gig anyway. I'm just upset the lady didn't at least write me back saying the spot has been filled, or I wasn't what she was looking for. Anything would have been better than no reply at all.. 

Another cousin wants me to photograph her daughter when the foliage peaks, then her family when we get a good snow. I am dreading the snow pictures! If anyone has any tips on getting good family portraits in the snow and how to avoid big poofy jackets.. Let me know! Heck any tips on photographing someone other than my own children would be nice! 

How's that for random? Trust me I got more but I won't bore you any more. 

And the wheel turns- to the bottom now.

Edited on September 10th, 2010.

Well it happened. At 3 pm today the job he is on will be complete and there isn't another waiting in line. Living in our town means he will be one of the first group of guys to start the next project, but who knows when that will be. He still does not want me to work nights. If I were to work days, I'd need to quit the second he gets called back to work. And I wouldn't be able to work if he finds side work. An ad is going up on Craigslist momentarily. Hopefully that will bring in some work. 

If not... I guess we will be selling baby items I am not ready to sell, canceling my only daughter, most likely last child's 1st birthday party. And going back on state assistance. Our rent was due 4 days ago, our van payment is due every Friday.

Things will get better. The wheel will turn again. Things were just problem free for a bit too long for us. I just hope this time it isn't an almost two year layoff again. And of course it doesn't help I am married to the most pig-headed man on the planet and he will not work for anything less than he'd bring home in unemployment-which he needs to claim for 4-6 weeks before he can receive a check.

How the hell did we survive while using, with him being laid off?

How the hell did we support our over $135/day habit for 5 months?

How will we do this now?

Originally posted on August 3rd, 2010:

With a wheel, each little spoke of it has its time on the bottom, then climbs to the top and drops again. And the cycle continues.

Things have been increasingly getting much better around here over the past few months. My little spoke on this wheel of life turned a bit last month, but quickly rose back to the top. Things have been going very well. And now it is time to start that rotation to the bottom again.

Sometime in September Tom will be getting laid off again. I hate construction in such a craptastic economy. This means I will have to go back on foods stamps, WIC, etc. Fight tooth and nail again for any help I can get, and this time, he will not have unemployment until 4-6 weeks AFTER his lay off date and I am not working. He doesn't want me going back to work for a while. He claims we will be fine and he will find side work.

Growing up with my father in the same line of work, I know you cannot rely on side work. I remember many weeks where we only had peanut butter, milk, and eggs. I remember the school not giving us free lunch because my father's yearly income was so high but my mom not being able to afford for us to eat. I remember being the loser in the cafe w a peanut butter sandwich, no jelly. Jelly was a luxury some weeks. No that didn't happen too often, but it was often enough that I know I don't want my kids to deal with it.

Time to take a deep breath and hope the wheel speeds up and we are headed up again.

The Weekly Grind-Methadone Style.

Every night before bed I call an "888" number. Every morning as soon as I wake, I take my methadone.
Every Wednesday, I wake up before the sun and go to the clinic.
I wait in line amongst other "addicts" and listen to their stories.
I listen to all the "Well I have's" and the "I did's". I listen to all the "war stories" as one of them put it this morning.
I listen to all the gossip, and trash talking. I listen to all the complaining.
As the line moves I make my way up to the desk. I swipe my card. A card with a photo.
(This photo is bad. I never knew how much of a junkie I looked like until that photo was taken.)
I show my six empty bottles and wait to see if I have to give a urine that day.
Then comes the other line.
More Waiting. More "war stories." More gossip. More complaining about lines, staff, and policies.
The line moves so slowly.
I wait (im)patiently for my turn to one of the two offices.
(This clinic is better than the one I was on just 5 months ago. Everyone has bottles, not many people are still using. People here are actually wanting to be on the program and not use.)
People love to be behind me, as I only have 6 bottles. Most on Wednesday's have 13.
I make my way in and swipe again.
"Good morning, Nicole. How was your week?"
I hand over my six empty bottles so labels can be checked.
The nurse gives me my Methadone for the day, flavored with Tang, and makes small talk.
(blech, that stuff is horrible on it's own, try adding Methadone to it. Gross.)
As she fills my six new bottles, I cross out my name on the six old bottles with a sharpie marker and throw them into the trash.
"See you next week, Nicole," the nurse says as I zip up my container I store my Methadone in.
And off I go.

Every. Single. Wednesday morning I do this. I am only gone for an hour-ish always back home by 6:30 at the latest.
Every. Single. Night. I make that call to that 1-888 number, hoping my client I.D. isn't on the recall list.
If it is, I get to go back another day. I get to wait in line again, have my bottles inspected, which takes all of two seconds, and off I would go.

I thought Heroine was controlling my life. And it was. I have yet to get back the control I once had before the addiction. I mean, yes, I have more control than I did then. I mean, I don't have to rely on 2-4 calls a day. I don't have to rely on someone answering a phone that many times. I don't have to beg, borrow, and steal anymore to get gas money, heroine, and hope I have enough cash left over for diapers. I no longer have to worry about not being able to cop, which turns into not getting out of bed or off the couch all day.
I do have most of my life back. All I need is this tedious medication out of my life and it will be mine again.

Now, to convince these people I can lower my dose again.

Nice Things? Not me!

You know that one person who doesn't own anything nice? Or that person one person who breaks every thing?

That is me. I am just not meant to have anything nice. Ever.

As a child, I went through 6 different Walkmans.
Every year I was given a porcelain doll for Christmas. I shattered a few of them.
My now deceased paternal grandmother hand made a ceramic lamp for me. It fell off my dresser and shattered.
I had a beautiful gold necklace given to me for my 1st Holy Communion, it was stolen. Along with every other piece of real jewelery and everything else with value.
I have lost 4 disc-mans, 2 pagers, and my first cell phone.
All by my 14th birthday.

The 1st year Tom and I were dating he gave me a four leaf clover charm. I wore it around my neck faithfully. I woke up one morning with it gone.

He gave my a gold dragon necklace with a real emerald in it. Broke the chain, then lost the dragon.

The very 1st ring he gave me on August 14th, 2001. It had light blue and clear stones all the way around. All but 4 stones are gone.

I lost my favorite "Nightmare before Christmas" purse, filled with my wallet (all my information, $$$, unused gift cards), keys, and other crap, all by leaving it on the roof of the car and driving off. --I was fortunate to get it back over a year later! With everything still in it but the cash and gift cards. Even very stale cigarettes were still in there.

There are 3 other chains I had snapped all from Tom.

Right before Christmas '08 I told him not to get me any jewelery as I break it all. I told him the colors of Thomas', Collin's and the baby we miscarried's birthstones. I asked him to just go to a craft store or Wal*Mart and just string me a bracelet with cheap "crystal" beads. It was all I wanted. That way if it had, indeed broke, it wouldn't be money down the drain and would be easy to replace.

He didn't listen. He came home with this; it was beautiful. I cried. It had each of our names and our boys names with our birthdays, and the baby we miscarried on it with the date.

It broke within a month. It was an easy fix, but it kept falling apart. After how much he spent on it in the 1st place I felt horrible. I warned him. It broke for good back in March of this year. I need a piece to fix it.

Then on Tom's birth curseday I went to McDonald's for breakfast. I was in the drive-thru when I  looked at my hand on the steering wheel only to notice the diamond from my engagement ring was missing. Yep. Gone.

Both my lenses for my Nikon are broken, from falling off things, which is way when I used that camera I have to manually focus in each shot.


Anyway, that is just some of the things I have lost or broken. Yes, I totally do suck.. I was doing very well for a few months.

That is, until today...

Mommy Why?-A Way Back Whensday Post.

10 years ago I was pregnant. Yes, 10 years ago I wasn't even old enough to be in high school, yet I was carrying a child. Scary thought right?

I will never forget sitting with my father and him actually saying he loved me, whatever decision I made was fine with him and he'd support me. Mostly, I remember him saying something along the lines of, "Next time use two condoms." What sticks out about that is, at such a young age I knew 2 condoms were less safe than 1.

I remember my mother telling me to keep the baby, she'd raise her until I finished school. We'd make it work. I remember her telling me I should have asked to be put on birth control. How would I know it would be okay to ask for birth control at such a young age, when my parents have never spoken to me about the birds and the bees? Hell, I remember being punished for asking where babies come from.

Even with the huge amount of support from my parents, I chose abortion. I mean really what was the big deal? It's not like it was a baby yet..

August 4th, 2000; I walked in to the clinic. Passed the protesters. Passed the signs of dead babies. Passed the people screaming at me that I was selfish and about to kill an innocent life. Honestly, it didn't even phase me. I was going in and no one was stopping me.

As I laid on the examination table, ready for *my* child to be scraped and suctioned from my womb, the nurse and I joked about my hair which was a complete rainbow of colors at the time. After the procedure, all I cared about was getting some food into me and going home.

The thought of what I had done didn't really affect me for a while. Until a fight between me and the would-have-been father, when he said I killed his baby. Even then, not so much.

Then suddenly like a sack of bricks, I had a breakdown. I *did* kill our baby. I still felt as if I made the right decision for us at the time, but now I yearned for my child.

Today, I still yearn for that child.

Today, when people ask for my opinion on abortion, it is simply. It's your body, your choice; but know, that choice can haunt you for a lifetime.

I am fat.

Other than my parents and brother, I haven't had any one come right out and insult me with fat jokes or insults. Or just plain call me fat. That is until now.

This morning, I went to the methadone program as I do every Wednesday when most of North America is still sleeping, or at least home. Everything is business as usual until I get in my car. It takes me a minute to fall into such a low car with an even lower driver's seat. So my door was open for a minute. Not open all the way, as the car next to me was able to back out without a problem as I was climbing in. Next thing I know I am being screamed at. Yes, I should have closed my door faster knowing that my fellow junkies can be a tad "rush-y" this early in their day.

"Close your door you fat bitch"
I was in such shock at the comment, and am already an extremely sensitive (cries at the drop of a hat) person.
The tears welled up before I could even think to reach for the door.

"Ya stupid fuckin' cow! Close your door"
As he shouted this comment I was closing my door. I yelled back to him that I was sorry. If he had just honked or yelled close the door, it would have been closed faster. Again, saying I was sorry.

He just went on and on and on, wasting the time he claimed I was taking from him. "You are just trying to make me late." Yea, my whole goal in life is to make everyone else as miserable as I am most days. Really, my life revolves around people I happen to walk by once a week.




This whole incident lasted 2-3 minutes TOPS. Yet, it really got to me. As I drove off all I could think to myself was, "I am fat..."
My mother used to tell me all the time how I looked like a whale. My dad would ask me why my sister looks like this, and I look like that. Why my thighs were so large, why I have a muffin top... My brother always knew how to get to me: call me a slut or something along those lines or call me fat.

So this morning, him dropping this F-bomb, really stung. I have always had low self-esteem. I have always thought of myself as the ugly sibling. Our family has a joke that the only reason I had kids is for the attention.

I absolutely hate my body.
I haven't felt comfortable in shorts since elementary school.
I hadn't worn a bathing suit for years until last year when I actually felt good about my(pregnant)self.
It took me becoming a heroin addict to finally feel comfortable in my skin. And then the few months of new sobriety before pregnancy, I felt amazing.
It was short lived.
I weigh now at least 15 lbs more than I did on the day I delivered Bailey.

I know some of my weight is my problem. I eat reese's daily, I get iced lattes or frappes daily. I don't get to the gym as often as I should.

I am the person who needs results. I will spend a week or two really eating right and hitting the gym, and see NO results whatsoever, or even gain a lb or two.
Why stick with it?



As always with my blogging this is leading to a rambling mess. I am just so sick of being labeled as fat.
No wonder I have really taken to the new ABC Family drama, Huge....

Good moms v Bad Moms

Quite a few women I know on JM have been having pregnancy and infant losses. These women have proven time and time again what wonderful mothers they are. They have the strength, maturity, and assets for their unborn child. Yet their child is taken away from them. Some fight for years to have one child, and time and time again their dreams are shattered. Some aren't even trying to conceive but when they do, they are happy and plan on providing nothing but the best for their unborn. Some after suffering such a loss can't get pregnant again either from the physical or mental stresses and fight so hard to adopt. These women just wait for their child to finally be in their arms.

Then you have these other women. Women who have nothing that belongs to them, women who everything they have is owned or was given to them by their parents or others. Women who choose sex, drugs, and alcohol over their own children time and time again. Women who rely on and make their parents raise their children. Women who will have their older child care for and do everything for the younger. Women who shouldn't every have a child but do and instead of giving this precious life to another who will and can love and support them, these women keep these poor children and let them suffer.

At one point, though it was only for 6 or so months, I was that other woman. I did spend a bit a time choosing heroin over my boys. I did rely on my parents to shelter, feed, and provide my children. But even as a heroin addict I made sure to show my children how much I loved them, not as much as I do when clean, but still I hugged and kissed and said I love you numerous times a day. I still sat on the floor playing games and reading books. The mothers I am referring to are the ones who choose going out to a bar or a movie or just a friends house over staying at home with their children, not just one night here and there, but night after night after night. The mothers I am referring to are the ones who only change a diaper or feed their child when their parents are at work and are not home.

I hope to never be that mother again, even just a little bit.

I am just so heartbroken right now. I have it so easy when it comes to pregnancy. Yes I have had a loss and yes it still hurts, but I get pregnant so easily and have had (almost) all perfect pregnancies. I would love to carry a child for a woman like this, or donate an egg or two, to do something. 

I truly hope all these women will have their child in their arms soon. And these other women grow up and take responsibility for their own children.

No where to turn.

This totally stinks right now. I need to vent. I know me. If I keep shit bottled in too long, the person I become is not so nice. I become angry, depressed, sulky, and bitchy. My children do not need that version of mommy.

They need the mommy who gets down on the floor and plays action figures or blocks. They need the mommy who cuddles up on the couch to watch movies, cartoons, or read a few ton of books. The mommy who sits at the kitchen table for hours on end, coloring, painting, working on words and ABC's. The mommy who kisses boo boo's and fights off scary birds in the middle of the night that aren't even there.

Yet, now I have no where to vent. My usual three are not available right now. My BFF is away for the weekend, and while I could call her cell, I don't want to be a burden. My husband and I aren't really on good terms at the moment. Then my trusty blog, facebook, and JM. Don't want to even bother bitching and moaning about that other than the fact things I have said, to those who were supposed to be a "(former) support team" ... don't know how to label is as they weren't really "friends", have been turned against me.

So now I am stuck. Stuck with all these thoughts from this evening in my head. No where to speak them. No way to get them off my chest and out of my mind.

Tonight I will suffer. But tomorrow, I speak.

My babies.

I have had my two never-born children in my mind a lot lately. One would be 9 this year, the other 3. They would be blonde with blue eyes like my other three. If I go by my three living children's pregnancies, the 9 year old would probably have been a girl. Causing tons of mischief by now, with a typical almost pre-teen attitude. Though I terminated that pregnancy at 11 weeks, I was far enough a long to craves sweets, and have almost all day morning sickness. Just like my daughter Bailey. Again, going by my three children's pregnancies, my 3 year old would be a boy with the same name as my 2 year old, Collin Paul. That pregnancy, which I miscarried at 11 weeks and 3 days, was going exactly as my boys. No morning sickness, no fatigue, no nothing. Would he be potty trained by now? He would be starting preschool in the fall. I wonder if he and Thomas would get a long better than the living Collin and Thomas, since they'd be closer in age and he'd be talking up a storm by now.

I miss my children I never met and never got to know. Both of them will always have a special spot in my heart. Both my husband and I will always love them.

As much as I miss them and love them, I do not regret what happened. If I didn't miscarry with CBM in '06 I would not have my Collin. CBM was due April 15th, 2007. I conceived Collin about a week and a half after that. Based on when Collin was conceived, part of me believes CBM's spirit is within Collin.

Now let's go back to the year 2000. If I had kept my 1st child, I would not be with Tom. I would not have any of my three living children. I probably would have a few children by all different men. Terrible thing to say, but when my 1st baby was conceived I was on a downward spiral, becoming a tramp. I will admit it, I was a skank back then. My parents would have mostly raised her, so I wouldn't be come a middle school drop out. Tom would probably still be in prison right now. My parents, though furious about my 'mistake' were starting to get excited about becoming grandparents. My mother loves babies and was becoming thrilled with the idea of little baby clothes, diapers, middle of the night feedings, all of it. My mother, was more than willing and happy to help her child raise a child. My father, was getting into the idea as well, as long as Tom had nothing to do with the kid and as long as he paid his debt to society. But I couldn't live with sending the love of my life to prison and I ended the pregnancy. It didn't really phase me when I made the decision. It didn't phase me after it was done. I didn't think about it again for months. That was until Tom blamed me for killing his child. Which I had done. I killed our baby.

But I still love her, and CBM, as much as I love Thomas, Collin & Bailey. I will always wish I had gotten to know them, to love on them, to raise them. I will never regret either happenings though.

Everything happens for a reason. With out the abortion or miscarriage I would not have the three most important people in my life.

DD#1 & CMB, You both will always be with me, watching over your brothers and sister. We will be with you again someday.

New Vehicle.

We are currently in desperate need of a new minivan. Ours is only working when it wants to and its not very often it wants to. The battery, which is brand new, will not stay charged and the alternator is apparently fine according the auto store.

We went to a dealership last night. They showed us a Durango. We can only be financed for something under $10k. Tom has been eyeballing Durango's for weeks. We start looking at it. I explain why it is no good for us. To get to the 3rd row, you need to tilt the middle row's seats. Both sides will have a car seat in the middle row. Can't tilt the seat if there is a car seat there. He starting to get my point, that not only would Thomas not have a way to the back, but I wouldn't be able to buckle him in either. Just as he sees my point, we realize this Durango doesn't have the 3rd row seating we were told it had, instead of being tucked away into the floor, there was just two storage compartments in the floor. They had nothing under $17k with 3rd row seating.

Needless to say, we have been arguing tons. He wants a SUV with 3rd row seating, or not. We only need to fit our three kids and us. I need a minivan. I need to separate my boys, I need to be able to have someone sit in the 3rd row with out moving the middle rows seats. And I need to have the option of taking other people with us. Without the 3rd row we cannot fit anyone else in the car. At all. With out the 3rd row. I cannot fit two car seats and a booster.

Why can't anyone grasp this concept? With a family of 3 or more, two row seating is no longer an option.

After days of fighting about cars I see this:


Toyota Sienna - Swagger Wagon - Watch more Funny Videos

Think I can talk him into another van now?

I have a dream

..to in the near future have my own home. A home with enough space to raise my family and be content in our space. A home with a fenced in yard large enough for my children to play & to entertain cook outs and birthday parties. A home in a neighborhood where I can take my children for walks and not have to overly stress about them being hit by a car. A home in a family friendly neighborhood. A home close to shopping, dining, & playgrounds. A home in a good school district. A home no more than 20 minutes from the beach. A home with a 2nd apartment for my parents so I can help my mother out when needed.

I saw my home today. I know we won't get it, but a girl can dream right?



The downstairs is a kitchen, full bath, W/D hook-up, living and bedroom, also has a mud room. Perfect for my parents.

Huge fenced in backyard. Perfect for my children. Large enough for Thomas' birthday parties which usually have 60-75 people in attendance.
Landscaping is beautiful.

Now the main part of the house. There is a bedroom w/ handicapped bathroom, which would be my brothers, if we were to ever get this, and my mom would come up to use it if she would come up to use it, if she was having leg trouble.

Open floor plan with kitchen, living room, dining room and dinette area. We would use the dinette area for the kitchen table and use the dining room as a den/playroom. The living room has built in shelving around the fireplace. With a cable hook-up and electrical outlet above the mantle.

Beautiful, brand new stacking W/D.

Three bedrooms upstairs, but not upstairs. There are literally 6 steps to the upstairs. Two bedrooms are connected by a bi-fold door. Perfect for a nursery connected to mommy and daddy's room. Each bedroom has a decent sized closet. Plus a linen and storage closet in between the bedrooms and bathroom.

The bathroom is perfect. Room for a little box, hamper, and toy chest for all the bath toys.



If we were to get this home, my parents, my brother, and my husband & and I would all have our own entrances. And the best part is we would be living with my parents providing my mother the care she needs, yet not living together as we would have our own living space.


Now it's time to stop dreaming. My father is calling the realtor on Tuesday on his morning break. Yet, I know this is not going to happen. Things like this don't happen to me. The two times I have lived in a perfect home to raise a family I literally got fucked out of the home.

But a wife and mommy can dream! Right?

ETA: Here is the house: http://www.zillow.com/homedetails/75-Fallon-Dr-North-Haven-CT-06473/58939610_zpid/

Babywearing

I have always loved the idea of baby wearing, from the time I had Thomas, but just couldn't get into it. I think I wore him a handful of times in his snugli front carrier

With Collin, I wore him every time we went grocery shopping until he could sit up in the cart himself, and when going for family walks. So until he was 11 months old. Again in the snugli front carrier.

Now this time, it is much harder. Three kids are impossible in the grocery store, especially since Collin needs the seat in the cart. So I am wearing Bailey. I started with the snugli but she doesn't hold her head well enough for it. We went to the sling. I hate it. It looks sooo uncomfortable. I was then given a Moby Wrap from a good friend on Justmommies. I love it so much! Not only can I get things done while wearing her, but I can nurse her at the same time! Who knew how convenient it would be to feed hands free? I can get laundry folded unload/load the dishwasher, do anything! (Accept bend down and get up with ease, but I hear it gets better.)

I love wearing my baby girl and keeping her close <3