Oil rubbed bronze fun!

We've lived in this house for over three years. And the doors, door frames, and base boards have needed to be painted since then. I was holding out hope that our home is really a magical house, and that I would wake up on morning and it just all be done. No such luck. And then I swore that it wouldn't be done until I paid someone else to do it. Then I thought about it: that's $2,000 that I can spend on our new TV and entertainment center/table thingy.

And, no, I couldn't wait until the kids went back to school after Christmas holidays, oh NO, that would be too easy. So I'm attempting to paint with three wild kids running around.

And I'm trying to get all crafty (aka, dangerous). I, um, decided to spray paint the knobs on the wash closet door and the knob to the bathroom door and see how it goes and holds up. Yeh. I'm pretty sure that my husband is going to kill me. He knows I'm painting the doors and all, but not the part about the knobs. But, dude! Have you priced door knobs lately?! It's nuts! The ones in here are those horrible gold -cringe- ones. I'm spraying painting them with Oil Rubbed Bronze. Worse case, I have extra knobs for the wash closet door (because I can't count and when I bought them I thought I bought just enough for the kitchen cabinets and that closet. Um. No. I bought about 10 extra.), and I can just go buy the bronze knobs for the doors (from eBay, I've decided).

If I can find my camera, I'll take pictures. Or I'll just take some with the iPhone.

Leaving on a jet plane....

So. I'm sill in this hotel room. Eating hot pockets.

BORED OUT OF MY FLIPPING MIND.

I'm washing clothes in the guest washing machine. And I'm thinking about cleaning the room.

Someone come save me.

The airport is right around the corner. I'm thinking about jumping on a plane.

Childless and lost... I just can't win!

Joey and I have ran away to Houston. He had to come for a class for work, and I just tagged alone to watch tv all day, read, and stalk people on Facebook (admit it, you know you do it too.) I've never left the kids for more than one night and day, so I've kinda been freaking out. I left the baby sitter a 3 page letter on how to take care of the kids. Seriously. Joey thought I had lost my mind.

So I'm all childless, and I don't even know what to do with myself. The last 7 years of my life have been devoted to taking care of kids and cleaning the house and paying bills. What do childless people DO all day long all the time? Because I have a feeling that by tomorrow, Wednesday at the latest, I will be loosing my mind. And I will have gained about 15 pounds too, because all I have to do is eat. And watch tv. And Facebook stalk people.

I'm so ready to get home, we're going to have Christmas early, because Joey gets to come home for a few days after this class, and then has to leave on the 22. So Santa is coming Saturday night. And I swear, this will be the best Christmas ever.

And, since I'm a gluten for punishment, I've asked Joey's mom if she would like to have Christmas with us early, while Joey's home. We usually do Christmas with Joey's mom and dad, sister's family, and brother's family Christmas night. It's how we've done it for years, if Joey's home or not. But I want to do it while Joey's home (we're getting the kids an xbox kinect, and she's bought them some games.. family time, people! I swear we're not going to wait for the kids to go to bed and play ourselves!) This would need to happen Monday night, and I figured since everyone would have to work that day, we could have it our house and I would take care of all the food....

Wait a minute. I thought this was a good idea, WHY?

And then, my mother in law says we should invite her mom also. Ok, that's good. Then she says we should invite her dad and step mother also.

Oh. Crap.

Mrs Juanita. Joey's step grandmother. I forgot to get her anything. Joey's grandmother, got it. Step grandmother... no.

Crap. Crap. Crap.

BUT! In my defense, they've just moved back, and...

I'm not super woman, ok? When it comes to Christmas, all I care about is my kids.

And, of course there's drama, because it's not Christmas without some family drama, huh? Joey's brother isn't talking to his son, so if Joey's brother comes, our nephew won't. If our nephew comes, Joey's brother won't. Oh sweet, Jesus. I've handed this over to my mother in law. They get to decide who to invite and who to leave out. That's allllll them.

So I'm looking at around 10 people at my house. This is not a big deal, we've had 50 people over for the kids' parties.

Wanna hear my menu? Oh, this is good, you'll love this. I'm getting a sandwich plate from Subway. Oh yeh. I'm going to make some type of potato soup or something to go with it. Mrs Sue had bought some appetizers from SAMs, so I'm going to get those from her and heat them up so she doesn't have to do anything but show up with presents :)

I'm just slightly bored out of my mind with Joey in this class all day. I watched 4 movies on HBO yesterday. That's more movies than I've watched in the past year. And it's only Tuesday.

After a month of silence, I still have nothing interesting to say.

I said that I was going to post on a regular basis, but it doesn't look like that's working too well for me, does it?

But people, seriously, there are nights that I get in the bed and all of the sudden -bam- the urge to pee hits me like train, and I realize, I don't think I've peed all day.

I thought that I was strange, and I had to be the only person who does this, but one of my close friends, who also has 3 children, and I and an entire conversation just the other day about how sometimes we forget to pee.

But yet we can find the time to have whole conversations over forgetting to pee? Something is wrong here, I believe we may need to seek therapy.

So. Like I was saying, forgetting to blog and forgetting to pee are totally the same thing... ok. No it's not.

It's been a month, so I'll give you quick review of what's going on:

• Jonah's asthma is under control. Kinda. We've only had one episode in the past month, on our way home from a trip to go see Joey at work. 3 hours from home. On a Sunday. I'll save the details of that trip for another post.
• Blythe is still doing great in school, and we're still fighting like cats and dogs. The child is 6. I'm not looking forward to the teenage years.
• Peyton is... a hoot. He wore a raggedy felt cowboy hat for three weeks. Around the house, to school, to church, to bed, every where. People loved it. Then we lost it. I'm going to search the yard tomorrow and see if I can find it. The swing set area has been known to eat sippy cups, maybe it ate his hat.
• Toy Story 3 is Peyton's latest obsession. Blythe and Jonah never had specific things they just LOVED, Peyton is full of them. Oh, wait, Blythe went through a year and a half phase were all she would wear was dresses. Peyton started with Thomas the Train, which he still loves. The only foot wear he will wear is boots. Don't think you're putting anything else on him. Don't try to fight it, this kid will win. every. time. Then the whole hat thing, now Toy Story 3.
• I still hate Joey's job.
  

I'm sure there's much more... but... I can't... keep... my eyes... open..........

zip

I have these great blue jeans that came from some place in the mall that I may or may not have paid too much for.

On one back pocket, there is a zipper. I don't know why any woman would want to zip her back pocket, but you know. They're awesome, fit great.

Peyton learned something today. He is tall enough to reach my back pockets.

And he can zip and unzip my back pocket.

Look! Mommy is a TOY!

Washing dishes -- *ziiiiip*

Loading the dish washer -- *ziiiip*

Putting clothes in the washer -- *ziiiiip*

Cleaning the toilet -- *ziii...*

STOP IT STOP IT NOW THIS HAS TO END!!

...

*iiip*

Ugh. No one listens to me, never.

Unhappy

*Sigh*

I had a great idea. It really was. Until Joey shot it down, and the idea died (not really, because it's still on my mind, I just don't know how to change his mind.)

I want to move.

That's right. I want to pack up, leave our friends and family, the kids' school, everything. I want to move to the same state that my husband is in the majority of the time. So that he would only be an hour or two from home, instead of 4-6. If he was only an hour or two, the kids and I could pack up and go see him on the weekends that he's gone. I can't do that now, not a 4-6 hour drive with 3 kids.

I had it all figured out. We wouldn't have to send the kids to a private school, because that state actually has good public schools, which would pay for the difference in the house note (if I'm getting a new house, I want bigger and better. Or at least enough bedrooms for everyone.) It would be a huge adjustment for everyone, being in a new place, but hey! People do this ALL the time, right? Seemed like the best idea I've ever had.

And then I told Joey my wonderful plan. And he said no.

And that just made me want it even more.

How dare he tell me no, I mean, seriously.

He had a good reason, that we couldn't do that to his dad, we couldn't take his grandkids from him. But I'm so unhappy here. I don't want to live here anymore.

But I guess I have to.

no rain = shot in the bum

Right now, right this very minute, I hate Louisiana.

It has not rained in forever. Looking at the 10 day forecast has become one of the most depressing things in my life. 0% over and over again.

Oh, we got a teaser the other day. It got dark, there was lightning, there was thunder, it put on a good show. In the end, not enough rain to settle the dust.

All this freaking dust.

Does not help that we live in the middle of a bunch of farm land, and they feel the need to go work the fields, oh, everyday. All that I can taste and smell is dust. My 60 day air filters are doing good to make it to 30 days before I have to replace them (yeh, the stupid $16 ones that I buy because of Jonah's asthma. But! They're supposed to trap dust mites! And allergens! And stuff like that!!)

I have been sick for nearly two weeks now. The dark circles, the runny nose, the itchy eyes, praying from rain everyday. Then the mess decided to move into my chest. So then I was coughing... stuff... up. Two days of that, I couldn't handle any more. I went to the doctor today. One steroid shot and some prescriptions later, I'm feeling a little better. My nose is still running, but I feel like a human being again, which is awesome. I also told the doctor how I never have any energy, and have felt this way for two months. So, they sucked two tubes of blood from my arm, after the stupid vein rolled when she stuck the needle in. I've got a very pretty bruise now, and it kinda hurts (I know. I'm a wussy.)

(My butt really hurts from the shot too. But it's really my back, which doesn't make any sense, but whatever. Pain. Ugh.)

(see. wussy.

The things I say on Facebook --

Jenna Wright I bathed the bills, fed the dishwasher, balanced the kids, folded the dishes, threw out the checkbook, and remembered to put the dog in the dryer. I'm doing so good tonight!!

Jenna Wright just turned the satellite back on... you probably wont be hearing from me for a few days... ooooh... tv... shiny... food network... teen mom... HGTV... DIY crap... oooh

Jenna Wright Quick! Someone call CPS! I'm abusing the children! I'm refusing to feed them lunch until they pick up their mess in the living room! Also, when apple cider boils over on a flat top stove... it's ugly. And stinky. And messy.

Jenna Wright Kids wanted to "help" clean... don't ever give kids Pledge and rags... they've emptied the bottle... can't... breathe... *GASPING FOR AIR*

So, maybe three kids is just too many??

I'm not going to make it.

Does it make me a bad mom if I count down the days until the youngest child turns 18?

Oh, the screaming just stopped (thank you Jesus.) It was like a light switch.

AGGGGGH --silence--

What the heck? You just all of the sudden realized, oh, wait. This isn't doing any good. Going to sleep now.

And Blythe's new thing is listening to the radio to fall asleep. OK, seriously? I've been fighting this child with bed time for three years now, and I've tried ev-er-y-thing. BUT turning a radio on. *slaps forehead* Duh. That's what I did to fall asleep as a kid too. But now, I want complete silence to sleep.

Upside of Jonah being on steroids for his asthma? He will eat whatever you put in front of him. No questions, nothing. I swear, the kids is going to gain 10 pounds this month.

Peyton is becoming a "grazer." He just eats all day. I leave his plate on the little Toy Story table, and he comes back to it every 5-10 minutes. And when he finishes it? I'm expected to produce more food for him to graze on. Now.

I have nothing interesting to say... so I'm out.

Falling in place

Things are finally falling into place, and it's about time. For the first time in months, I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Bills are getting caught up and paid on time, and soon we will start the phase of paying things off. I've been living under a dark cloud and it has finally passed. I hate money and how it has the power of deciding my mood.

We're planning a mini-vacation, and the kids are so excited. We weren't able to go anywhere this summer, due to money, and now we can.

We're also tossing around the subject of our living situation: five people in a three bedroom house, with just a little over 1,500 square feet. Everyone is always bumping into someone else, and we need more room. We just can't decide what to do about it. We like where we are, so we could sell the house to be moved (it's built off the ground). But, most people who buy a house to move, buy fixer-uppers, and our house doesn't fall in that category, so I don't know if it would sell. The second option is to add on, which has it's pros and cons too. Third is to sell the land, and for us to move the house to our 40 acres, and add on to it there (that seems like way too much work.) Which leads us to the last option, sell this place, and build exactly what we want on the 40 acres.

The visit to the pediatrician went great, Jonah does have asthma, and we were given different medicines to try. So we'll see how this goes.

Highlight of my day: I bought another air purifier! I need a life.

Also, life changing day: I chopped my hair off. Yeh, I know doesn't seem like a big deal, but it was down to the middle of my back, and I chopped it off into a swing bob. And I love it.

Doing anything but cleaning...

So.

All the kids are gone.

Blythe and Jonah are at their extremely expensive school, where they better be learning A LOT, because Momma could be shopping with all that tuition money...

Peyton is at his Mommy's Day Out program, where he better be having LOTS of fun, because... well, see above.

I was GOING to clean house, and then take a nap. But then I got distracted. We have to remodel the bathroom, and I got caught up looking at Lowe's for stuff... and realized that if I'm going to get that nap, I'm going to have to skip cleaning...

Darn.

Asthma?

Today I woke up in the best mood, which hasn't been the case lately. I'm usually grouchy, and moody, and sleepy all day. Today has been great so far, except it is now lunch time, and I have no idea what we're going to eat. Oh well. I've cleaned, and swept, and mopped, and folded the gazillion loads of laundry that has been sitting around in clothes baskets for a while now. Hey, they were clean, what more do you want from me?! I wish I knew why I woke up in such a good mood, so it would happen every day.

Jonah went to the doctor three times last week, with his asthma. The first visit, was because he kinda had a little cough, and he kinda had a little runny nose, and I really wanted the referral for him to get more speech therapy. That was Monday.

Monday night, he started having asthma attacks, which he hasn't had any in over 9 months. I was excited, he turned five and hadn't had any asthma attacks in so long, so I thought he had out grown it.

Negative.

Two breathing treatments Monday night, and he woke up acting fine Tuesday morning, so I sent him to school. They called me around 10, saying that he was complaining of his stomach hurting, so I went and picked him up. He was fine, we cooked while we waited for his daddy to come home, watched some tv, had a good day. Until about 3:45.

He started having an attack, completely freaking out, I was trying to give him a breathing treatment, and his eyes started rolling in the back of his head and he was falling asleep. My husband is a retard, and said, "Oh, he's just sleepy." No no no, this is not normal.

I loaded him up, and when we got to the doctors office, Jonah pulse ox was 93. So I'm sure that it was worse before we got there, you know, when his eyes were rolling in the back of his head and all.

One lung x-ray later, an inhaler, an oral steroid, and a cough medicine with a steroid in it too, we were sent home.

I took him back Friday. Monday and Tuesday, we saw the nurse practitioner. Friday, we see the doctor, he's just a family doctor, this is not a pediatrician's office. He decided that Jonah doesn't have asthma. Wait. What? What do you mean he doesn't have asthma? I'm confused. For the past three years, I've been told he has asthma, have been treating him for asthma, ripped all of the carpet out of my house, because he has asthma, bought air purifiers, because he has asthma, I buy the $15 air filters for the central unit, because they're supposed to be better for people with asthma, I only clean the house while Jonah is gone, because he has asthma, I bought the allergen mattress covers and pillow covers, because he has asthma, and now you see him for three minutes and say it's not asthma? Well, what ARE these attacks of him not being able to breath, eyes rolling in the back of his head, a pulse ox of 93 after one of said attacks, what is it then? He doesn't know.

He has referred Jonah to a lung doctor, which I think in a great idea either way. Tomorrow, I'm taking Jonah to his pediatrician, and see what he says about all this. Which is what I should have done in the first place.

He seems to be doing a little better, and I sent him to school today. The meds are making him act like a crack head, I feel so sorry for his teacher.

If I had more energy, I would come up with a title, but, eh, here it is.

Um. Hi. It's been a while, huh?

Sorry, it's just been SO crazy. Joey started the new job, the kids started their new school, Peyton started going to a Mommy's day out program twice a week, Blythe has dance, and karate, and play practice, and SOMEWHERE in there, I lost my mind.

The new job. It's only been a few months, and finances are still... ugh. But, I keep telling myself, it's only been a few months, we're having to get used to a TOTALLY different pay schedule, and Joey has to use a LOT of money being gone... I hate money. Seriously.

In the, what? Two months since he started the new job? He's been home 7 days.

SEVEN.

This is harder than I thought it would be.

He's home now, and he thinks he may get to stay a little longer than a few days.

Jonah broke my heart after the last time his daddy left for work, we were sitting down to eat, and he was saying the blessing, and he says "and thank you for letting my daddy come see me." (Which, of course took me and my mother in law to translate, but once we understood, there were tears.)

He has started speech therapy at school, but I haven't seen much improvement. His speech teacher at the school even admitted that Jonah needed more than 30 minutes twice a week. She thinks an hour 4 times a week would be much better. So, I'm working on getting additional speech therapy, which is a really big head ache. Thankfully, a place has opened in town, so I won't have to drive an hour, and our new insurance will cover some of it, if I will jump through some burning hoops, sign some paper work in blood, and be willing to give up my first born child, you know, the usual insurance procedures.

I'm completely overwhelmed. Every. Day.

Like I told Joey the other night, I feel like I'm consistently waiting, but never getting anywhere.

Waiting for him to come home.

When he gets home, I'm then waiting on the call for him to leave again (not that I want him to, this is just part of the gig.)

Waiting for Jonah to start talking.

Waiting on Blythe to realize that she is SIX not SIXTEEN.

Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.

But really, on what?

No words.

Our middle child, Jonah, has a speech problem. I first realized this when he was about 18 months old. He only said a handful of words, but most of them didn't "count" (doctors and therapist don't count names when they ask how many words do they know).

Da. (daddy)

Momma.

and maybe two or three others.

He didn't babble like most kids his age, nothing like our sweet boy, Peyton. I don't know what that kid's saying most of the time, but if you nod and agree, he keeps on taking. But Jonah never did that.

So I started the adventure to "fix" my kid. I thought it would be easy, most of my family members had speech problems, and was easily fixed with speech therapy. I even had a speech problem as a child, nothing like Jonah, but still.

I finally hunted down the early intervention program for Louisiana (it's called Early Steps, if you're ever wondering.) It took a while for me to find the program, and then even more time to fill out mounds of paper work, evaluations, more paper work, and then for said paperwork to be processed. At this point, Jonah was two. Early Steps only covers children under the age of 3, because at that point they can enter the public school system I guess.

Jonah loved his speech therapist, the one day a week she came was the high light of his week. I would send Blythe off, because if she was here, she was all in the middle of it. He got to have my full attention and the speech therapists full attention.

Then he turned 3.

Early Steps sent us the school board for an evaluation. They agreed that he had a speech problem, which DUH, you would have to be deaf not to realize that.

Then the school system and I had a communication problem. The woman at the school board office told me that for Jonah to receive speech therapy through the school system, he had to be enrolled IN the school system. I don't know what it's called in other states, but PRE-pre-k (3 year olds) in Louisiana, is called Head Start. And over my dead, cold, lifeless body was I going to send my baby to Head Start.

1. It's located at the worst school in the parish (they're ALL bad)

2. They don't teach the children anything.

3. Only crack heads send their kids to Head Start, looking for a free baby sitter.

My baby was not going to school with crack babies. In CrackVille. And not learn anything. Plus, Blythe was already going to school at the church school/private school, AKA where people who love their kids that care about their educations go (That may sound harsh, but the truth hurts. We had to scrimp and save every penny for them to be able to go there, but it was for their education, it was more than worth it) . It's a great program, kids that go there 3 year old - kindergarten have a great advantage over kids that go to the public school. So we were sending him there anyway. They only thing was that they didn't offer speech therapy. They used to, and it was through the public school system, even though they're a private school, but due to budget cuts and such, the school system cut it out.

The nearest speech therapist is an hour away. We just couldn't afford it at that time. We tried all we could to help him at home, but with little luck. Jonah developed his own sign language. We were all so frustrated. I just wanted to be able to have a conversation with my child.

Last year, Joey had three different pay cuts that equaled 40% of his pay check. Times got hard. There was no way we could even THINK about sending them back to the church school/private school. So I sent my babies to Hell (this is what I referred to the public school last year.) They learned very very little. And yes, Jonah was able to have speech therapy again, but because of pay cuts, they school system is short on speech therapist, so the few they do have have to go around to all the school, so they don't have enough time. So they do group speech therapy. Which is the stupidest thing I've ever heard of. We saw very little improvement.

Things are changing at our house. My husband just took a job that tripled his salary. First thing I did was go and enroll Blythe and Jonah in The Christian School. (This is not the same as the church/private school. That one only goes to kindergarten, and Blythe is going into the 1st. This is also a private school.) It's the best thing in the parish. The kids there score two grades higher than what they're in when they take the state tests. And now we can afford it, thank you dear, sweet, Jesus.

Then I found the name of a speech therapist. Thought I was going to "fix" my baby.

Our current insurance (still from the old job) doesn't cover speech therapy. That just burst my bubble. But it's ok. I picked my self up off the floor where I was having a pity party, and realized it'll be ok. Either the new insurance will cover speech therapy or it won't. And if it doesn't, well, that's ok too. I'll be able to pay for it out of pocket now.

I feel like we're getting some where now.

________________________

Jonah has melt downs. Serious melt downs. Here lately they're worse. And then I get angry because DAMN what's your problem, kid?!

Tonight, while Jonah was having a melt down, I almost said to him, "Son, use your words!"

But then I realized.

He has no words.

6 years

Today was our 6th anniversary. (Ok, actually, yesterday was, seeing how it's now 1 AM July 11, but just go with it, k? Lets all pretend that it's July 10. Thanks.)

I know, that doesn't sound like that big of a deal, right? I mean it's not 10, 15... 50. But to me it is.

I have I mentioned that my husband is 26? Yeh?

I'm 23.

I'll give you a second to do that math. You got it? Is your mouth hanging open yet? Yeh, I thought so, that's what I usually get.

Yes, I was 17. I'm happy that we're getting this all in the open here. We had Blythe Anne 2 weeks before I turned 17 (January 5, 2004). The following July we got hitched. Mostly just to make his mom shut the hell up. But you're living in siiiiiin living together and not being married. Yeh yeh yeh, we have a baby too, is that what really bothers you? It wasn't that I didn't love him, I just never wanted anyone to say that the kids were the only reason we were married. Never. I wanted to prove that there was more to it. I now know that people are going to think whatever they want to no matter what. So I guess I should have just gone on and married him as soon as I peed on that pregnancy test.

6 years.

The first 3, he was only home for 9 months because of his job. We nearly fell apart before we even got started good. We both went into this with the belief that divorce was not an option. I felt like I didn't even know this person that would come home (visit?) for two weeks after being gone a month. I finally broke down and begged him to quit his job. Find something else. This isn't working and I can't do this.

And he did. Because he is awesome. He quit his supper easy job, to go work in the oil field. Now that's love right there. He didn't do it because the pay was better, or because he just LOVES to be coverd in oil and grease and pipe dope and mud day after day (yeh right), , he did it to save our marriage.

At first it was hard, holy crap, you're only gone for 7 days and then you come home for 7 days? And there have been plenty of other hard times in the past three years since he started in the oil field, but the good out weighs the bad.

6 years.

They called them crazy when they started out
Said, "Seventeen's too young to know what loves about"
They've been together six years now
...Bought a little 3 bedroom house in the country
Where she blessed him with three more mouths to feed
Be a best friend, tell the truth
And overuse "I love you"
Go to work, do your best
Don't outsmart your common sense
Never let your prayin' knees get lazy
And love like crazy

(My edited version of Lee Brice's song "Love Like Crazy")

He's perfect

He was 18 when we met. He wasn't tall, but dark and handsome he was. Broad shoulders and chest, strong arms, and muscular from working in hay fields with his Daddy. He tried to be a bad boy, but I always saw through it. Not very far into our relationship, he started whispering in my ear, "I'm going to marry you one day." I would laugh and call him crazy. Before he really knew he loved me, it drove him nuts when I would prop my feet on the dash of his old beat up Chevrolet. Once he stopped complaining is when I knew he really loved me. Still, while we're riding around, I'll prop my feet up on the dash of the Ford, and I look at him and grin. He has no idea what I'm grinning about, he just thinks I'm crazy.

He works hard for everything we have, and I hate how he has to bust his ass just to keep up a float. I hate that he's about to take a job that's going to take him away from me most of the time. I will never know when he has to leave again, or when he's coming back to me. I don't know if I can take it. And it's not that I'm worried about taking care of the kids by myself, I can do that.

But I need him.

I need him here.

I need to be able to see him, to touch him.

I don't think I can do this.

And I can't say anything to him about my fears with this job, I don't want to make it any harder on him.

***

A few weeks ago, I went and saw him on the rig. I love these little "get aways". I find someone to keep the kids, I load my stuff up, and I drive 4 hours to spend one night with him. I hate the drive, the drive kills me. I have to drive through a city that I hate and I nearly have a break down every time. But as soon as I pull up on that rig location and I see him walking towards me, it's worth it.

These little trips to the rig are our only times completely alone together. No kids, we're not at our house, we get a hotel room and everything is perfect.

But during this last trip, we went and ate at a Mexican place. While sitting across from my husband, actually being able to talk to him and pay 100% attention to him, without these three children running around, I noticed something that surprised me.

My husband is aging. He's not that 18 year old boy any more. He's still dark and handsome, and I can still get lost in those brown eyes, and he's still muscular, physical labor will do that to you, but I'm starting to notice some wrinkles around his eyes. When did that happen? Where was I? Too busy raising our children to even notice that my husband's job is turning him into an old man at the age of 26?

***

We're not sure when the new job starts. I hope that I can keep it together.

Dear Naptime -- I miss you.

Nap time has become a complete nightmare in our household. I absolutely dread nap time. Oh God, it's 12:30, I need to lay Pey down...

Nap time was not a problem while Blythe and Jonah were at school. School has been out for a while now, and we still haven't worked out a schedule. The older two just cannot sit down and shut their traps for a merely hour or hour and a half. They would explode.

And let me tell you, mommy would like a nap too. But that's so not going to happen either, not even after finally get everyone settled down and Pey asleep. Because with all four of us here pretty much 24/7, his nap time and after they all go to bed in my only real time to get anything done. But I'm so tired and completely run down. No energy what-so-ever, I could fall asleep sitting here now... zzzzz...

Oh, sorry, like I was saying. I tired. The kids are driving me up the wall. The house looks like a bomb went off. I just cannot keep up. Looks, it's either I feed and bathe the children, or clean the house. They can't both be perfect (oh who am I kidding, Blythe's hair looks like a rat nest, Jonah's shirt doesn't match his shorts, and peyton.... well, he doesn't have any clothes on at all. Which is dangerous considering that he now takes his dirty diapers off and puts them in the trash. At least he puts them in the trash!!) I'm failing at the housewife gig a little more everyday.

And to top it all off, Joey starts a new job in a few weeks. Which requires him to be gone. A lot. And when he's home, he's pretty much on call, so we'll never know when he's leaving again. The new company told him that the first three months, they'll keep him away from home as much as they can, to make sure he can take it. That's just lovely.

I was telling a friend of mine about this whole he'll be gone for three months, and she asked, "So, when do the kids go back to school?"..... About three months. So, after I picked myself up off the floor from my fit I was throwing, I started searching for a babysitter. Just someone to keep the kids once a week so I can go pay bills, buy groceries.....

... oh who am I kidding, I'm going to come back home and take a nap.

Anissa

Wow.

I'm reading over here, and I'm amazed. I've been reading this blog for the past two days. It just seems like too much for one family to deal with. A two year old with cancer, beating it, and then the wife and mother has a stroke. I want to cry as I'm reading the words that her husband has wrote while trying to keep everything together. But! It's a story with a happy ending. And that's the best thing ever.

And I've decided that I really need to work on my organization skills. Anissa's husband said in one post "Saturday was bill day, because having the power turned off now would really kinda suck. I think I figured out her filing system and found some paperwork." Joey would never be able to figure out my "filing system" (HA HA HA HA), so he and the children would probably be sitting in the dark without running water. I worry about these things all the time. Seriously, what would he do without me? How would the bills get paid? He doesn't know how to run a household, to plan menus, grocery shopping, exactly how each kids likes their sandwich. I worry about it all the time.

I really need to work on my don't-worry-so-much skills too. *deep breath*

I'm meeeelting...

Remember when I told you about how Joey caught the kitchen on fire once?

Well, it ruined the blinds in the kitchen and dining room, so we tossed them out, you know, going to get new ones. That was a year and a half ago. And still no blinds.

It is some kind of hot in the great south, let me tell you. The rest of the house is OK during the day. With the blinds shut. And the curtains closed. And the ceiling fan on high. But the kitchen is a killer, without trying to cook. It's seriously 80 degrees in my kitchen RIGHT NOW. The rest of the house is around 75. It's just too hot for the central unit to keep up.

Anyway, the kitchen and the no blinds problem. There are four windows and two doors that are mostly windows. The windows have curtains, but they're doing no good, what so ever. It's a green house in here. So this weekend, I'm going to The City (an hour away, the nearest place with a mall and a Lowe's and a Target and and IHOP, all of my favorite things in the world) and I'm going to fix this green house kitchen.

It's either blinds, or I'm pulling out the tin foil.

(I'm joking! I promise!)

It doesn't take much to make this girl happy

I'm already slacking at this blogging business. Geez.

Today was the best day ever, I swear.

Joey has a honey-do list that has been ignored. He mows the yard, what more do I want from him?! (I don't know, put your dirty clothes, IN the dirty clothes closet? Put the dishes NEAR the sink? Take the trash out when you notice it's over flowing? I love the man, I really do. Hey, he DOES put the toilet seat down.) The crown molding to go in Blythe's room has been laying on her bedroom floor for almost a year now. A YEAR. He started to put it up once, got the tools out, looked up some info on his iPhone, made one cut, and then I guess he saw something shiny and the project was dropped. So the crown molding laid there for a year. At one point I asked a contractor what he would charge to come out and put up molding in ONE room ($200. It's a small room. We're talking 13x13 I think) So it continued to lay there.

March 17 of this year I started repainting the living room. I did really well, thought I was going to get it done in a reasonable amount of time. HA HA HA HA. It went great until I ran out of paint. At this time, our WalMart was remodeling also. For a while the paint section was gone all together while they moved things around. Then when it finally came back, there were always so many people there and, Hey, I'm a busy person, I don't have time to sit around!! Or, I couldn't find anyone to mix the paint because they were all busy helping move stuff around. And then the paint machine broke one time... yes, I'm full of excuses, I know. Why didn't I just go to the next town over? I don't know, that thought never even crossed my mind. SO. That's why three walls were the great awesome **NEW** color, and one wall still looked like crap.

This week I got more paint, and I guess since I was busy making the house beautiful and doing projects, Joey felt like he needed to also. The crown molding it up, people! He also fixed the threshold from the kitchen to the hall, which has also been on the to do list for about a year now. After I finished painting, he put my curtains back up and my pictures and all. It looks awesome, I've got to take pictures to share. And, we got all of this done in one day.

So, just to recap:
Joey's projects, from start to finish -- One year.
Jenna's projects from start to finish -- three months.

I win.

1:30 AM

*poke poke*
Joey- baby. baby. did you hear that too?
me- OH GOD WHAT IS IT ARE WE GOING TO DIE IS SOMEONE BREAKING INTO THE HOUSE?! WE'RE GONNA DIIIIIIE.
Joey- I think I heard a puppy.

The man wakes me up to ask if I heard a puppy. Seriously.

T-ball season 2010

T-ball is a very stressful sport. I know, right? It's freaking t-ball. But when you have two playing, a boy and a girl, and the boy's field is on one side of town, and the girl's park is on the other... whew. Which this year wasn't too bad. Blythe played Mondays and Thursdays, and Jonah played Tuesday and Friday. So we were at the ball park 4 days a week.

And then, some REALLY smart person said, "Hey! How about we start the last game of the night at 7:50!" I nearly died. Our kids go to bed at 8! How are we going to survive?! Well, we made it through the season. Blythe's last game was yesterday, and was supposed to have closing ceremony that night, but the closing ceremony was called off because the bottom fell out of a huge rain cloud. So that's been moved to Monday night. Jonah still has two more make up games, and after the last game there will be closing ceremonies.

The girls t-ball is totally different from the boys. The girls keep score, and if you get out, well, you're out, go back to the dug out, but everyone gets to bat. The boys do not keep score, if you get out, you still get to run the bases. Which Jonah refuses to do. He's been to Blythe's game and he understands that when you're out, you're out. That and he totally hates ball. With a passion. We have to fight him to stay on the field, to stand up while he's on the field, so go after the ball... ugh. It's just been a fight 100% of the time.

We quit karate when ball started, because I couldn't handle both playing ball, Blythe with dance recital coming up, and him in karate. He's now begging to go back to karate, please, when can I go back?! The funny thing is, when he was going to karate, he hated it, had to fight him to stay on the mat, fight him to get dressed... are you seeing the pattern here? But I guess we'll give karate another chance, maybe he now knows what he was missing.

I just hope that he doesn't notice that all the other little boys in his group has moved up a belt color and he missed out. You just can't win at this parenting stuff, I swear.

I going to have a shirt made. "I survived t-ball season 2010"

"The House That Built Me," Part Two - The House

We lived in the death trap, er, I mean The Trailer, for almost four years. A year and a half after we brought Blythe Anne home to The Trailer, we brought our first baby boy, Jonah home to it too.

I lovingly call it the death trap, because DUH, it was a death trap waiting to happen. I had an electrician on speed dial. I just knew that we were all going to die in the death trap, not that I'm all over dramatic or anything. Half of the trailer was on one breaker, and if you're not aware, THAT'S NOT GOOD. Had some wires BURN UP IN THE WALL. Of course, while Joey was at work, because that's the only way for these things to work. This is when I started to ask to buy a house. But all my dear husband could say is, but this place is PAID for! Ugh. Then, there was some kind of malfunction, and my drier caught on fire. But it wasn't really the drier, the wiring of the house did it. Asked again, please, lets buy a house, and still all I heard was, but this place is paid for! And the drier still works, so no harm! Except for every time this stupid crap happens, I have a mini heart attack, and it's taking years off of my life expectancy!

Then we flooded.

I know, right?! What's next people? Can it get any worse than having to move in with in laws while we fix the death trap?

Yes. Yes it can.

We fixed the flood damage, we moved back in. I come home one day, and my husband has taken a wall down. Because wires were popping in the wall. Oh my God, I quit! I told him I was buying a house, and if he would like to, he could move too or stay in the death trap.

And then I found The House. It was perfect, three bed rooms, two baths, 3 acres, and lots of trees (The Trailer had no trees.) We bought it, painted every room in the house just the way I wanted it (have you ever wondered how long it would take to paint a 1500 sq ft house by your self while going to school full time? Almost four weeks.) We ripped out all the carpet because Jonah has asthma. It was perfect.

Two months later we found out that we were going to have another baby. After squalling in the doctors office because, "I can't have another baby, I don't have rooooom for another one!" we were very excited about this new little person.

We found room for the little guy, and now Jonah and Peyton are roomies. They love it for now.

When Pey was 6 months old, Joey managed to catch the kitchen on fire while I left him unattended and unsupervised (another time we had to move in with the in laws while a house was being fixed). But out of the mess I got new counter tops, a new stove, a new over the stove microwave, a new pretty white sink, a whole new wall of cabinets and replaced all the cabinet knobs. I'll have to post pictures some time, they're great. Joey is no longer allowed to cook in the house any more. Or out side when I'm not home. Because ANOTHER time, he melted the siding on the house with the grill. Because he was unsupervised. Geez.

Mama cut out pictures of houses for years.
From 'Better Homes and Garden' magazines.
Plans were drawn, concrete poured,
and nail by nail and board by board
Daddy gave life to mama's dream.

Joey might not have built this house nail by nail, but he still gave life to my dream. I love our little house, and I want to stay here forever, with rocking chairs on the front porch when we're old and grey. I want this to be the safe place for my children to come home to. When I was a kid, we lived in so many different places, that when I think of my childhood home, I come up with nothing. There's no one place that was just Home. I want this to be Home.

"The House That Built Me," Part One - The Trailer

Our first home was a year older than my husband. That's not a big deal when you're talking about a house. But when you're talking about a mobile home, yes, a trailer, that's just ridiculous.

My husband was born in 1984. The trailer was built in 1983. We bought it October 2003. My husband was 19, The Trailer was 20, and I was a mere 16. And I was about 5 months pregnant with Blythe Anne. After (finally) telling his mom that we were expecting a baby (when I was 5 months along), a lot happened.

First, she demanded that we get married, ASAP. I refused, I loved Joey, and I knew that one day we would get married, but I never wanted anyone to be able to say that the only reason we got married was because I was pregnant. Sure, they could still say we only got married because we had a child together, but I took away one lie that people could say about us. Joey's mom realized that arguing with a pregnant teen was useless, and moved on to other, more productive things. She helped Joey get a new truck, to go along with the new job that she pulled strings for him to get to support his new family. She also found The Trailer.

For $3,500, we had a home.

With a lot of bleach, some paint on the walls, and after ripping out the funky carpet, we settled in. The job that Joey had then, which lasted for 3 years, he was gone for a month, and only home for two weeks. Most of the time when Joey was gone, I stayed at my mom's. I wasn't used to staying by my self and every little noise freaked me out.

On December 22, 2003, my washer broke. It was one of the few times that I decided to stay at our house by my self while Joey was at work. I loaded the wet towels in the truck, and went to my mom's, because obviously, I had no business staying by my self.

On Decemer 23, 2003, my water broke.

When my mom called Joey's mom to tell her, Mrs Sue started telling my mom to go turn the water off to The Trailer, that Joey's dad, Mr Vernon, would be there shortly to fix it.

I was 7 months pregnant, she never imagined that my mom meant that MY water broke, not The Trailer's water.

After laying flat on a hospital bed for two weeks, we had Blythe Anne at 34 weeks. She had to go the NICU because she was 6 weeks early, but she didn't need to. There were never any set backs, no breathing problems, nothing. She stayed for a week, just to make sure and gain a little weight.

And we brought her home to The Trailer.

I will survive...

The kids have been out of school for exactly one week, today.

We may not see week two at this rate. Seven days, people, and I'm already loosing my mind. My husband just left for work Tuesday, so I still have five more days of being a single parent. I'm out numbered, there are THREE of them, and ONE of me. The baby is an escape artist, running out the front door everything time I forget to lock it (98% of the time its locked, but when it's not, *Swoosh* he's gone), the other two are just tearing the house apart for fun.

For fun. Ugh.

And I had forgotten just how much fun the terrible twos are. Last summer was easy, we had fun, we enjoyed each other. But that's when "The Baby" was, well, a baby. Now he's like a real little person, getting into things, running away from home. It was so much easy when you could sit him down, give him a toy, and he would just sit there and play with it for an hour. Oh no, not any more. The kid has an attention span of a goldfish. Or that dog on "Up." SQUIRREL!!! How did I survive this twice before?! But, that's my proof that I can, and will survive this third go round with the terrible twos.

Today I'm down to only two (yay!) kiddos. Jonah is hanging out with his PawPaw today, and I have 6 hours before I have to go pick him up for t-ball pictures and then a game. In those six hours, I plan on cleaning up the breakfast mess, trying to clean up some of the mess in the rest of the house (as far as the kids rooms go, I'm just shutting the door), there's a sticky residue on the living room floor, that of course "no one" did, feed these two lunch, clean up lunch, and then lay Peyton down for a nap. I may lay down too.

Last night was nuts. A kid ran over a horse down the road at 11, so there was all kinds of traffic up and down the road, cops, family, nosy neighbors that heard it happen (I heard it, sounded like a gun shot and then tires squalling.) I think the wrecker truck got lost and was turning around in my drive way at 1 (beep beep beep -- you know, the back up beep beeps?) And then Peyton woke up at 7. I cannot function on 6 hours of sleep, I just can't. That's why I will be taking a nap.

UPDATE: No nap. Oh well, there's always tomorrow... wait, no, my mother in law made plans for me for tomorrow. I guess I'll sleep when these kids move out... How much longer?