Texts to my husband...

Throughout the day when things go awry, I often think of my husband sitting in his comfy chair, in his quiet office as he jokes with a colleague.

I feel jealous some days as he walks leisurely out the door to his car while I am running around with my butt on fire making lunches, picking up friends to play, dropping off over-due library books and standing on my head entertaining 3 booooored kids.

I am often envious of his freedom to have lunch with someone who doesn't throw food or spit milk out his nose.

So, to help him feel involved in my day, I have started texting him. You know, I am sure he is wishing he was home to take in all the pleasures that I deal with each and every day. Maybe he is sitting at his desk wishing he was unshowered and wrestling a preschooler onto the potty seat. Maybe. Or maybe my texts are simply subliminal messages from which he better translate, "If you are one FRIPPIN' minute late getting home someone will be bouncing off the walls and it just may not be ME!"

I choose to keep him informed throughout the day with texts...it helps me vent let him know how much I appreciate his hard work and it keeps him up to speed on how many dozen roses to bring home. It also keeps my fingers busy so I still don a headful of hair!

As we have all seen on the news...kids have their own texting shorthand, well feel free to grab what you need from this list!

hubbyTEXTING!

ILU! - I love you!

T4aUdo! - Thanks for all you do!

TaWo.WUWH! - Taking a walk. WISH YOU WERE HERE!

HsfPfLwB! - Had smiley face pancakes for lunch with kids!

WaUCH? - When are you coming home?

G?WitP! - Guess what's in the potty!

SC! - School CALLED!

KHWiurC! - Kids homework - in your car!

SCA! - School CALLED AGAIN!

KLMiurC! - Kids lunch money in your car!

SFCA! - SCHOOL FRIPPIN' CALLED AGAIN!

TBPAIURC! - Their BACKPACKS are in YOUR CAR!

AUtaMCbaBHoT! - And you talk about MY car being a black hole of trash!

UG! TaSOurK! - Ugh! They are SOOOO your kids!!!

911!PBotFS! - HELP! Peanut butter on the flatscreen!

TBitT! - Toothbrush in the toilet!

IAA2LI! - I am about to lose it!

911!DHRA! - HELP! Diarrhea!

911!DHRA!LD! - HELP! Diarrhea! LAST DIAPER!

CHN! - Come Home NOW!

BW! - Bring WINE!

ItInRx! - I think I need MEDICATION!

IhstTWCH! - I have started to TWITCH!

WAUAMTXT?! - Why aren't you answering my texts?!

IIcmtlabIW! CHN! - If I could make these letters any bigger I WOULD! COME HOME NOW!

K,LS!911!KAH!NG!NG!BPZWaDOE! - OK, LAST STRAW! HELP! KIDS ALL HOME! NO GROCERIES! BRING PIZZA, WINE AND DIAPERS, OR ELSE!

Ct10! TiurLC! IudwttdwaDZr,aBPoDaMoWaaFPuwN( )A! - Counting to 10! This is your LAST CHANCE! If you don't walk through that door with a DOZEN roses, a bulk pack of diapers, a magnum of WINE and a FAT PIZZA you will NEVER (fill in blank) AGAIN!

"Honey, I'm home!"

Now, that's more like it!

How many moms does it take to...

ONE!

The answer is ONE!

The question?

Who cares! It only takes one mom to do anything!

Do you know how I know?

Because I have been THAT mom for a week now.

If you need a recap...read about my day last Thursday!

Well, the next day my husband came down with the flu...the real thing, not just the generic sick feeling that can self-diagnose as something like the flu. I mean the real, honest-to-goodness FLU with handfuls of pills to be popped every morning and every night! Ick!

I have to say that I was not very sympathetic. I posted this.

I complained to my mom about the ridiculous state of health in my house and my obvious annoyance at my husband came out in that rant. She asked why exactly I was MAD at him for getting sick. And I blurted, "Because when I feel myself getting sick, I fight it. I just decide I am NOT getting sick and I don't!"

She returned with, "Well, Shel, not all of us have your super powers."

Hmpfh!

Point taken. My mood softened. I stopped being annoyed at the man who almost NEVER takes a sick day. I'm sorry, sweetlips! I'm glad you're feeling better.

Well, the only person better is my pre-schooler who had the (not-ringworm) ear infection! My husband is going into work for 1/2 days and my poor daughter is STILL on the couch. Strep knocked the wind out of her this time.

When did God get my attention and soften my heart? (He has a habit of doing this when I least expect it!)

Last night, everyone went to bed on time and I was starting to feel like things might be back to normal soon. That's when my oldest son came running into the living room sobbing!

"Mooooom! I think Punk's dead!"

We ran up and I took a deep breath as I looked into the cage of his 6 month old hamster...ummm...yep, no doubt about it, the little Punk had expired and by the looks of it, I think he committed suicide. (Stop laughing, I'm kinda serious) He was sprawled out on his bedding with blood coming out of his nose. The little freak was one of those rodents that thinks he's a circus act. You know, the ones that end up on America's Funniest Videos. He would run up the wrong side of his wheel and dive head first to the bottom of the cage on a daily basis. But I think this was his last dive.

It took quite some time for me to console my poor big kid. We talked about how in Heaven Punk wouldn't have to be in a cage because there are no predators where Jesus lives. We joked about the fact that Punk's new best friend could very well be a snake or a zebra. We giggled at the thought of him hoping on his striped BFFs back and taking off through the clouds and we cried because we missed him. My son even said he thought he could use this to write his first kids book! Ahhh, now there ya go, buddy, write your heart into a book! He's MY KID!

So, the sickness is s-l-o-w-l-y making its exit. Punk will probably be buried today. My sick hubby is taking a 1/2 day. And THIS MOM is headed to the SALON. I think I might get one of everything they offer just so I can HAVE to stay there until Tuesday.

All-in-all, as much stress as I have endured this past week, I wouldn't change it for the world. My kids and my husband are my life and I am so thankful for every situation that we get ourselves into because that's what makes a family. The good, the bad and the ugly.

So, how many moms does it take to love a family? Just ONE. This one! And it's more love than any of them could ever imagine! Sometimes we play the "I love you more" game.

I love you more than the grains of sand on the earth.

I love you more than the ounces of water in all of the oceans.

I love you more than all the snowflakes that have ever fallen.

I know my son could FEEL that love last night as we laid in his bed and snuggled.

(Oh, and my husband just might get lucky tonight)

One mom. This mom!

Tell me your tender moments!

WIRED...

That's my profile - wires and all. I had a HOLTER MONITOR to check on some heart palpitations...kinda strange for someone that rarely even wears a band-aid. Kinda hard to pee with a big wad of wires in your pocket and the other ends attached to your ....ummm.... hoo-has! My doctor thinks it is just stress. So, I am supposed to take it easy. Stay even-keeled. My parents offered to watch the kids so Ken and I could schedule a long-awaited DATE NIGHT!! My hubby and I don't get out that often so when we do - it is a BIG deal! Lastnight was DATE NIGHT! We went to a great restaurant we had never gone to before....BONEFISH....it was awesome. Very yummy food, very relaxed and GREAT company! He's pretty cute! After dinner we headed to my favorite place to relax in the world...BARNES & NOBLE! But, now do you remember WHAT THE HECK happened the LAST time I thought B&N was a good idea? Well, if you are new or you just don't remember, remind yourself here. This time, Ken and I grabbed some books and magazines and sat at a little cafe table to read and flirt with each other. (yes, 15 years later, we are still goofy-giddy-newlyweds!) But, veg-time is completely dependent on WHO you sit next to...HOLY CRIPES! Next time I will pick the seat b/c Ken pulled up a chair right next to ...let's call her Margaret. I don't know her name but I know every creepy thing about her life. This woman should be in therapy. And then her therapist should seek therapy! Margaret was chatting with her friend...it all started with this question, "So, how do the Quaker's feel about violence, like defending yourself?" For those of you who are not aware, the Quakers are alive and well in PA...William Penn - "Penn"sylvania - Quakers - it's all part of the deal. They are "religious witnesses for peace since 1660." Well, Margaret went into her Buddhist rant. How the Buddhists feel about evil and protecting yourself from it, etc. Whatever. To each his own. I don't care. I go back to my reading. Then she mentions that she never leaves the house without her Sig Sauer. I looked at Ken with my eyebrow raised...I have NO idea what she is saying. Sig what? Ken makes his best GUN with his hand (on the down-low of course) and I gasp. Quietly. Back to my book. "My stalker!" Those words got my attention. Apparently, she has had a lot to deal with in her life as a VA nurse. Holy heck...is her therapist on speed dial?

Something is said about a gun safe accident. My ears perk up as I have a personal aversion to guns. But then she spouted. She frothed. She talked of her life-long dream of owning a gun shop. I almost turn my head and watch her like a TV. But then she whines that her dream was shattered when a 400 lb. gun safe fell on her wife. Yes, I said "wife" - Ken caught the spout of hot macchiato I threw from my lips!

So, to make a long story short - because this was a story WAY-too-long for our short supposed-break-from-the-chaos-we-call-life! Margaret was a ... gun-toting lesbian formerly stalked Buddhist nurse! Any one (or even TWO) of these things would never have caught my attention. But, five? ALL FIVE?! And now her pacifist Quaker friend was discussing hand-gun options with her. She was climbling aboard the GUN-TRAIN! Seriously, I am such an open-minded, non-judgemental person. I have friends in almost every category of human you can think of - I really do... but this poor woman's life made me sad...AND KEPT MY FROM THE BOOK THAT WAS GOING TO UNCOVER ALL THE PUBLISHING SECRETS I AM CURRENTLY SEEKING! So, that was date night! Ooooo La La! Maybe my stress is directly related to WHERE I sit at Barnes & Noble! Give it up? What are my options? I am an addict. But, do people actually pop a Valium before ordering their Macchiato? Let me be the first!

How do I love thee? Let me scoop the poop...

As we waited to be licensed foster parents, I could not dull my need to nest, the mothering ache was killing me so I forced convinced my husband that a dog would be a great addition to our family as our children were old enough to start learning how to not kill care for another living thing.

Memorial Day weekend of 2005, we added Morgan Rose to our family.

Little did I know that the foster baby would be an easier feat. This dog drives me nuts! Whose idea was this?

We took her to puppy boot camp right away. You are laughing aren't you? I am serious. The Perfect Pooch is bar none the coolest place around. You drop them off holy terrors and Dave gives them back 10 days later and VOILA, your very own perfect pooch. She was an ace and to this day is a fantastic dog - for my husband. It's that whole Alpha Male thing.

Quite honestly, the last three years it has been crazy as she is just a big black 80 pound toddler! When the baby came - I could have more easily dealt with twins, I think. She has disciplinary issues and I think should get Occupational Therapy during my son's sessions. She's a mess.

Anyway, almost 2 years ago, I demanded suggested we get one of those buried fences. I was tired of carrying the baby out in the elements 1400 times a day and walking around waiting for Morgan to "go." Really? As a mom, do you have time to do this? I was so ready to just buy a big fat CORK and tell her she had to wait until "Daddy" got home. It would be the dead of winter and snow would be blowing, I would get the baby situated on a play mat after getting the older two kids on the bus, I would sit down with a hot cup of tea and Morgan would come bounding in, knock over my cup into my lap and start whining - she had to pee. I would have to put the baby in his Siberian excursion outerwear and take him out to stand and wait...and walk...and sniff... I WANTED TO SCREAM!

So, the $200 was well-spent for the buried fence as I deemed it a necessity!

Are you doing the math? We got her in 2005, bought the fence in 2006 and it is 2008. Ask me how I am enjoying that fence...go ahead, ask me.

Thanks for asking but this is a real sore subject as that $200 box is still sitting on a shelf in our garage. (go ahead, ladies, re-read it, I know it is hard to believe) STILL SITTING ON THE SHELF. The dog has been trained to the collar that was in the box- but still no fence!

Please keep in mind, I am a very gentle person - we don't even spank in our house - so this shock-thing bothered me for a long time; hence the whole year of freezing my fanny off taking her out myself. I even made suggested my husband try it on himself before putting it on the dog. I said it was inhumane to give her a shock without knowing how bad it was. He tried it (on his hand, not his neck), I watched and he assured me it was "like sticking your tongue on a 9 volt battery." OK. Who does this? Maybe it is a guy-thing, but I have never had the urge to lick an Energizer! I don't get it!

Anyway, after a couple months and no fence, I boycotted scooping her poop. My excuse? I said, I was not about to brave the elements with a baby on my hip AND be expected to also use a bag to fondle her feces, too. Not happening! I just wanted to be able to open the door and let her out.

My poor children get dragged into this during lawn-maintenance season because my husband will call from the lawnmower, "Got grab some bags and scoop the poop!" My mom-ears can hear that request even with the windows closed and the mower running and I run to their aid. They both have that intense gag reflex that causes them to heave at the slightest disgust. Asking them to feel warm poo through a thin WalMart bag is just not right! Not to mention, my husband should feel for them as he puked IN HIS MOUTH numerous times while changing diapers. They all share the gag-thing!

He says now that he is waiting for me to decide to start picking up the poop before he puts in the fence b/c otherwise the WHOLE yard (instead of just the curb) will be crap-laden. Ugh. My plan has back-fired!

Why do I talk about poop today? Because this morning I found myself moved to scoop ALL of this winter's poop out of our curb grass while my little one played in the driveway with sidewalk chalk. It was starting to look like we had decided to use Doggy-Doo Mulch to cover our grass on the curb, I was a wee but embarrassed as many runners take their early morning jaunt right passed our house - that has to be gross! They have to notice it.

No, I don't deserve an award, I think I miss my man. He is headed back from a snowmobiling adventure out West with his dad and I miss him; did I say that? So, my boycott has ended, I guess, for now. I still want the fence put in but in the whole scheme of things, it's really not that big of a deal.

See Ken, I will even scoop the poo for you! Smooches!

And the dog? Yeah, she's still a big dork.

Yes, that IS a pumpkin!