Death and the Six-Year-Old Boy

When I sat Timmy down a couple of Saturdays ago and told him that his dzia dzia (grandfather) had died all I got out of him was an 'okay'. There were no tears and no other questions or reactions. It was just 'okay'. Now I know that death is a hard concept for a six-year-old to grasp, but I thought I'd get something out of him. I thought maybe I'd get an 'I'm sad' and while I wasn't expecting waterworks to come out of him...I thought maybe he'd get that one lone teardrop grazing down his face. But nope...it was still just 'okay'.

The day after his dzia dzia died, Timmy - out of the blue - would say every so often, 'Dzia dzia is dead.' After about the third time that he said it, I asked him if he wanted to talk about his dzia dzia. He just shook his head no and went on about playing with his legos. I thought maybe this was his way of grieving and understanding...

However, six-year-olds are pretty peculiar creatures and can be somewhat hard to read sometimes. So I began to second-guess the whole idea that he could really comprehend what was going on when...

1. During the viewing I caught Timmy trying to stick his finger in his dzia dzia's ear.
2. The boys like to get the big phonebook out and play court with my dad. Well a couple of days after Mr. Ben's death, Timmy was playing court with my dad. Timmy took the phonebook and slammed it on the coffee table. He pointed at my dad and said 'You are guilty!' (The boys always find him guilty.) My dad asked what he was guilty of and Timmy responds with , 'You are guilty of killing my dzia dzia!' Needless to say my dad's face turned bright red and that was the end of that game....

After the whole court situation that happened with my dad , I decided to have a talk with Timmy. What I was going to say to him? I wasn't exactly sure. I just wanted to talk to him. So I decided that I was going to talk with him that very night right before bedtime. While the boys were getting ready for bed I went upstairs and into their messy room. I started to pick some things up from the floor and as I was picking up the boys' sloppily thrown dirty clothes, I looked up and saw two bird trophies sitting on Timmy's dresser.

Here's a little history about the trophies. Timmy has always loved trophies. Before Timmy was ever able to earn his own trophy, Mr. Ben (his dzia dzia) gave Timmy two of his bird show trophies. Timmy displayed the trophies that his dzia dzia gave him for a while until he started to get a couple of his own. To make room for his trophies, he put the two his dzia dzia gave him in the closet. Those trophies stayed in that closet for almost a year...that is...until that very night. Timmy put aside his soccer and tball trophies and replaced them with the two bird trophies that his dzia dzia had given him.. At that very second I came to the conclusion that I didn't have to have a talk with Timmy because...well...he understood.

He understood.

It may be in the six-year-old sense of understanding, but I believe he knows that his dzia dzia is gone. And there is something else I know...

He sure is going to miss his dzia dzia.

The Weeners First Day of School

Christian's First Day of School Picture














(Note: He originally wouldn't smile...However, after I said the word 'poop' I did manage to get a laugh. Oh it would be so easy to be a comedian to 6-8 year olds. ;) )


Timmy's First Day of School Picture



<----This year














<----Last year









(Note: I never thought I would say this, but THANK YOU CAFETERIA! It was so much easier to get Timmy to go to school this year and that is mostly because he wanted to eat lunch in the cafeteria.).

Christian and Timmy (It's hard to believe that they are less than two years apart!)














(Note:I think I used the words 'poop' and 'toilet' both in the same sentence to get some smiles...)


Here is everyone waiting for the schoolbus.














(Note: You may not notice by the picture, but boy were the parents giddy that morning!)

Last - but not least. Here is Mason on his brothers' first day of school.














(Note: Mason is very happy not to have someone try to carry him like a ragdoll every five minutes.)


So....Is anyone else ready for the next summer vacation?

ARGHHHHH!!!!

Warning: This post was created in five minutes and may...um...*WILL* have typos, as well as foul language and improper use of the English language. Oh and lots of (.....).

I'm not an artsy-fartsy person, but I can surely relate to the artist who painted/scribbled this picture. If I'm not mistaken, I think it's called "The Scream". However, I think they should have called it "I Got So Much Sh@t On My Plate That I Don't Even Have Time To Put My Make-up On". I mean...do you actually think this picture took a whole lot of time to actually create?

*sigh* Between those first days of school (With neither one of the boys wanting to go back. Oh and the gazillion amounts of paperwork we as parents have to fill out...and finding myself wondering if my boys would mind if I forgot to sign the papers that say they CAN play on the playground....)...
The pile of work on my desk here at the office (and that's not including the two emails my boss sent me in the past thirty minutes)....
Christian's football practice (three days a week...not counting gameday...What the hell was I thinking?..)
Timmy's soccer (One day a week...not including gameday...but it sucks when the coach lets their practice go on fifteen minutes longer than it's supposed to...)...
Mason's ability to get into EVERYTHING (Yup...even had to breakdown and buy a gate...)...
Daisy's ability to have to go to the bathroom the minute I close my eyes (I guess I should be thankful that her bladder still works...)...
Rich's brilliant decision to paint the garage (in Raiders' colors no less)....
The piles of wrinkly laundry that is just waiting to be put sloppily away...
The same goes for the clean dishes that are sitting in the dishwasher... (Are they ever going to make a dishwasher (and I'm not talking about people) that puts the dishes away for you?)
My mustache that I've been meaning to wax for the past three nights...(I don't even want to talk about my hairy legs...)...

There's just too much crap to list and I'm just giving myself a headache thinking about it all. What's worse is that I don't have any aspirin at home and I just don't have the time to stop at the store and buy any...so...

You know what? I take what I said at the beginning of my post back. Whoever the artist is of the picture had to have *some* time...I mean...afterall they did have to find the paper and the paints?/pencils?/ blood?/whatever is was they used...to create the picture.

Well, I wish I could stay, however, it seems I have to go 'cause I'm busy and all...

In Memory of Mr. Ben....

On Saturday - August 19th - my father-in-law...the father of my loving husband and the dzia-dzia of my three boys...passed away. He was such a quiet, soft-spoken man. He was born in Poland in the early 1935. He lived in a German camp as a boy and was once almost shot point blank by a German soldier. When he was a young man he moved to the United States, became a citizen and joined the army where he became an army cook.

Mr. Ben loved raising animals. He had many rabbits as a child and when he was older he raised/bred/showed canaries. He loved those birds so very much and would listen to their songs for hours at a time. When he started to get pretty sick with his heart - about eight years ago - he sold the canaries. He missed those carnaries...

You may not know this, but the marriage between my in-laws started out as a marriage of convenience. My mother-on-law (who is also from Poland) wanted to stay in the U.S. and so for her to stay in the country my father-in-law offered to marry her. In time, they grew to love each other and had two sons. Don't get me wrong...they were no Ozzie and Harriet...Have you ever seen the show 'Everybody Loves Raymond'? Well, my in-laws not only resembled Ray's parents, but their relationship was almost exactly like the one of Ray's parents. Just add Amaretto and Polish accents. :)

I hate to say this, but sometimes I'd try to avoid Mr. Ben because he would tell the same stories over and over and over again. Like the one where he'd say that if he knew he could've eaten crabs as a boy he would've feasted for months back in Poland. Or how he got both of his sons to walk at the age of eight months. (And how it was so nice that he could just sit them on their 'dupa' (butt) when he wanted them to stop walking..because they didn't know how to get back up...) However, now I am so glad to have heard those stories (and others) so many times because whenever I eat steamed crabs or when (if?) Mason decides to start walking...I will alway think of Mr. Ben.

We will miss him.

Bóg Błogosławi (czcić) Was. Lecą z bidrogami.

Ummm...Maybe I'm Just (literally) Old School...


Look closely at the ad I got in my email today. Maybe it's just me, but do you find one of the items pictures strange to put in an ad for back to school?



*sigh* I can just picture that family in Happyplace, USA sitting at the dinner table right about now...
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Dad: *ha ha ha* Oh and Mr. Cooperpot says my $100,000 raise will be in effect next pay...Say honey-dumpling. Did you finish up the kids school shopping today? By the way sugar-schmuples...your pot roast is extra delicious today.

Mom: Why thank you diddy-daddy! I used that recipe from Good Housekeeping magazine that I was telling you about. As a matter of fact, I did finish school shopping!

Dad: So you got their backpacks?

Mom: Yes dear.

Dad: And all of their notebooks?

Mom: Yes my hunka-hunka-burning love. I got that and the 50 folders, the scissors, the safe glue...you know...the kind they can't get high on if the sniff it....And I got the 75 pencils, two marking pens, five highlighters, the 3x5 index cards, the 4x6 index cards, the post-its, the protractor, the compass, the wide markers for Jeffy, the narrow markers for Sally, crayons, the 8 1/2 x 11 wide binder paper, the 10-pack of ziplock baggies, the 6-pack of tissue papers, *sigh* and one sock...

Dad: And clothes...

Mom: Yeppers, all monogramed with their names too. It's all ironed and ready to go...

Dad: What about...

Mom: Shoes? Yep Saddle shoes too...

Dad: No maple-puss, I was going to ask if you got their pocket knives. You know, for their protection.

Mom: O'Hell yeah! I ain't gonna let no low-down dirty crapbag try to take my babies stuff without my babies putting up a fight and shedding some blood!
-----------------------------------------------------------------

And here I thought I was done school shopping!

From the Desk of Weenermom...

Note to self.

If - in the matter of five minutes - the boys ask where they can find a piece of yarn, a battery and my potting shovel, please don't forget to ask what they are going to do with the items. You may be surprised to find them in the backyard digging in your flower garden. When you ask what the heck they are doing, they proceed to tell you that they are trying to dig up the hamster that we buried over a year ago. Because they wanted to...like...ya know...'Bring the hamster back to life'.

I'm still not quite sure where the yarn plays into it all...

Jack-Of-All-Fridges

See this picture to the left? Yeah, yeah...I know...It's just a picture of a refrigerator...The holder of food - and sometimes adult beverages. It's what helps growing boys grow and 'helps' their moms - who don't want to grow - grow too but the other way. I'm serious. Take a good look. Can you see? Besides the pictures on the right hand side of the fridge, the outside of it looks pretty empty (and pretty clean too thank you very much!). Now just imagine in less than two weeks not only is this refrigerator going to be the 'holder of our food', it will also be the 'school lunch menu display'. It will be the ' gallery of crayon drawings, construction paper montages and maybe even some pasta art' (gee I just love those macaroni noodle necklaces). It will be the 'book log holder'. It will contain the school agenda for the month and all of the parent reminders that - of course - will probably just get lost underneath a picture of me burning dinner that one of the boys made in art class -- amongst the other things it will get lost under. It will hold the (hopefully) many highly graded assignments/tests that the boys will bring home. It will have the neighborhood parent contact list...you know...just in case one of the parents forget to...um...pick up their child at the bus stop. It will have the many PTA notices that are sent home (and boy do they send a lot of them home!). Really just think of my refridgerator as one - overly populated - clipboard. You see, not only is this a fridge. This is the keeper of our lives for the next...oh...10 months.

Oops! I almost forgot! It usually holds my shopping list too. Which reminds me, I have to add something to my list:

...buy more magnets for the fridge...

Or wait - better yet..

...buy a bigger refridgerator...

More Potty (Training) Humor! (Pardon the pun)

It's all in Japanese, but I think you'll get the idea...



And I thought seeing a puppet on the toilet was funny.

I guess I missed out on all of this stuff when I was potty training the older two boys. However, it looks like Mason and I are going to be highly amused - or at least I will be - when it's time for him to potty train...

Five Months of Weener

So I've been a blogger for almost five months now. I was going back and reading my past posts and I began to wonder what in tarnation people - who don't know me but come across my blog - think of me. I have come to these conclusions of what everyone thinks...

1.) Not only am I a mess mentally, but - thanks to my posts about my sofa and car - everything else around me is one big mess too!

2.) That not only do my pets escape to get away from my crazy family, but we have a hard time catching them as well! (Oh and they usually have more than one name!)

3.) That I'm a hillbilly!

4.) I sometimes look like I wet myself...

5.) I'm not crazy about the ice cream man.

6.) I get excited if you take me athletic cup shopping, but I don't get excited if you give you name your penis, Ed.

7.) I like to make up my own song lyrics - which is usually done pretty badly - to well known songs.

8.) I talk through my nose.

9.) That I'm not the only crazy person who was born on July 17th...

10.) That my newly tattooed husband will walk past the same toothpaste cap for days and NEVER pick it up!

11.) That I suck at photo editing.

12.) That I have a BEAUTIFUL mother-in-law...

13.) That I don't have the best grammar and my spelling is...eh...

There were a couple more too, but I think you all get the picture. Anyway, I just want to say thanks to everyone who reads my blog! It's nice to know that there are actual people who read my blog and not just anonymous solicitors linking spam!

SPF Writes A Letter To The Editor

Dear Esquire Magazine,

You recently named me the Worst Dressed Man in the World for the year. You may have not realized this, but...umm... I AM A FRIGGIN' BABY! I haven't even been around for a year! I do not have the capability of putting an outfit on myself let alone pick out what I am going to wear for the day. Hell, I recently just started seeing colors other than black and white (even though I still don't know what the word color means...). Sure some of the other names behind me on the list belong there and have some of my same issues...THEY ARE ACTUAL MEN!

Who am I to argue? You are entitled to think my outfits stink - and literally they usually do due to my lack of controlling my bowels... Speaking of which, I have to go now.

Don't hate the player ---Hate his parents!


Yours Truly,

Sean P. Federline

P.S. If you are looking for the Worst Haircut of the year...I hear that Shiloh chick has a wicked baldspot on the back of her head.

The movie Snakes on a Plane isn't out yet, so here is something that might amuse you until then...

Me in a Bikini!

(Warning: REALLY bad photo editing involved!)

Okay so maybe I am cheating a little...

I was bored and playing around on the internet today trying to find something that would spark my interest. The news sites are just too depressing (Hope nobody has to catch a plane today or buy gas for that matter.). The celebrity gossip sites pretty much say the same things (Paris Hilton crotch shots and Britney Spears sporting redneck maternity wear....Yawn..). So what's a bored, has too much time on her hands, girl to do?

Just when I was about to give up on the World Wide Web, I came across a site where you can make your own virtual model. It sparked my interest so I went ahead and made my own model. I gave it a name, put in my height and my REAL *cringe* weight. I also was able to give it a hairstyle that was most like my own. So I clicked to create and BOOM there was the 'supposed' virtual mirror of myself. I began browsing through selected websites with my virtual me. I tried on some nice business suits and spring dresses. It was pretty neat. I then saw a link to bathing suits and thought "What the hell!".

At first I was just trying on one piece suits, which all generally looked the same. Needless to say, I got pretty bored with it fast. So with my same 'What the hell!' attitude I decided to 'try' on some bikini's. Just a note...the 'real' me hasn't worn a bikini since the summer of 1992, but that's 14 years and about 45 pounds ago...

*drumroll please*

And now ...for your viewing pleasure...here 'I' am in a bikini!Not too bad I guess, but wait something just doesn't look right. Maybe it ne]eeds some scenery...Not too bad...However, it's not very realistic. Let's get back to the scenery later. Oh, I definitely have to add this....Stretchmarks! Yeah...Okay...The stretchmarks are definitely more me...But I can't forget the...
Saggy boobs! Okay, I'm being too geneous on the droopishness of them, but it'll due. However, since I added the boobs I can't forget the...Batwings under my arms that I've acquired over the years...After playing with a ball, this is Mason's most favorite thing to play with! Okay, so I am really getting somewhere now...but how can I forget....The moles on my chest and the huge one on my belly (All been checked by a doctor and none of them cancerous...)...OMGoodness...It can't be complete without...The numerous spiderveins that have been taking over my legs for the past year.

So there you all have it...Me in a bikini. Take a long look because this is the only time/way you will ever see me in one again. (You're welcome!)

Oh wait! Before you go...I forgot to add the scenery. Should I add some palm trees and water again? No...no...I want this as real as possible so here you go!Nothing like being in a bikini with two feuding boys and a overly-tired baby while playing in the kiddie pool that's located in your own backyard! Yep, nothing like some stick figure kids to make it all look real. ;)

Two Things That Should Not Go Together...

Fish + Tacos = Come on, can that really taste good?

My Kids + Sugar = Hyper-city for the kids and a bunch of Tylenol for Mom

A Bear Puppet + Toilet = Ummm...I didn't know puppets had bowels...

So here is the story...

I stopped over my sister's house yesterday to pick up the older boys. When I came into the house I noticed that my 2-year-old niece was sitting on the couch starring at the tv with a glazed look on her face. My sister comes into the room and says 'Oh we are trying to get Bella to potty train so I bought this video.' She handed me a dvd and I looked at the cover. It was a Bear in the Big Blue House video called, 'Potty Time With Bear'.

I then turned to look at the tv and I had to get a double-take. On the screen - right before my eyes - was a bear puppet sitting on the toilet. Oh that did not look right to me. I know that the video is harmless (READ: I will not be picketing in front of the Disney Studio's with a picket sign saying: 'Everybody poops -- except puppets!'). I have no problems with the concept, however, it just seems so weird seeing a puppet sitting on a toilet. I always thought that when puppets ate that all the 'food' just crumbled out of their mouths ala Cookie Monster... ;)

Needless to say I hope the video works for my niece, otherwise I see an outbreak of Care Bears being plunged from my sister's toilet in the near future.

Not Scratching This Itch

Last week I was at a red light by a car dealership. Normally I wouldn't look over at the dealership, but something made me turn my head and look that day. So I gazed over and there it was...A brand spankin' new silver Lexus RX. It was sweeeet. At that very moment I came to the realization that I never got the 'four year itch' with my van I'm driving now like I did with my other vehicles. My history with cars is like this: I'd have a car for four years and then I'd get tired of it so I'd start looking at the vehicles I was driving at the time and find any little thing I could that was wrong with the car until I'd eventually trade the vehicle for a new one.

I've been driving the van I'm in now for almost five years. Five years --- That's a record for me! So what has been keeping me from trading the van I'm in now for something newer? I decided to make a list of things on why I shouldn't trade the van in and here's my list:
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Weenermom's Top Ten Reasons Why I Should Keep My Van

1.) My van is paid off. Why would I want to make a car payment if I really don't need to?

2.) My carpet upholstery is already customized to the weener's satisfaction. I mean, why buy a whole new car with nice clean carpet when it will eventually look like this...
3.) Playing "What's That Mystery Stain?" won't be as enjoyable in a nice clean car.4.) The smell. Sure that new car smell is nice, but come on! You really can't bottle the smell that comes from almost five years of weeners!

5.) Where would our collection of half drunken cans go? 6.) Most people make little marks on their walls to see how there children have grown through the years...We use the finger smudges on the window of the van...
7.) I'll miss that dent in the van where a guy on a bicycle and I sorta/kinda ran into each other as I was leaving the parking garage at work.
8.) I don't get all stressed if the outside of the vehicle has some dirt - or what not - on it.

9.) I'd really miss my old dented front license plate...
and the main reason why it's best to keep my van?

10.) I CAN'T AFFORD A NEW VEHICLE!

Anatomy Of A 'Good'...strike that... 'Decent' Picture

Okay boys let's line you all up and take a picture!

Good...good...okay I'm getting ready to take the picture.

One...Two...Three! Say 'Cheese'!

*snap*

What is with that face Christian?

Yes, I changed Mason's diaper.

What?

Okay , let's try this again.

Look at the camera.

Smile.

Don't smile like that Timmy.

Mason...Mason...look at Mommy! Mason!

Christian stop squeezing Timmy.

Okay are you all ready?

One...two...

Christian I said stop!

Mason!

THREE! Say 'Cheese'!

*snap*

Who gave Mason that lightsaber?

Well, don't give him anything else.

Give it to Mommy Mason.

Thank you.

Let's try this again.

All you have to do is LOOK at the camera and smile...Is that so hard?

One...two...

Timmy, LOOK at the camera!

Christian leave your brother alone!

Look ad da funny fas on Mmmmeee Mson!

One..two...three... Say 'Cheese'!

*snap*

Guys...I said STOP it!

No I don't want a picture of you two pretending you are on a bobsled.

Come here Mason.

Please...can you all just cooperate with me for one second!

Ha...ha..very funny Christian. When I say one second you know I mean more than ONE
SECOND!

One...Two...Three....Say 'Cheese'!

*snap*

ALL I WANT IS ONE NICE PICTURE! THAT IS ALL I'M ASKING! NEXT TIME IF YOU DON'T SMILE AND LOOK AT THE CAMERA I'M GOING TO START TAKING THINGS AWAY! DO YOU HEAR ME? JUST ONE PICTURE! ONE?!

Ummm...okay...let's do this one last time.

One...two...three... Say 'Grounded'!

*snap*


Well, I guess this one is okay...

See guys...That wasn't so hard was it now?

Yes, I'm all done.

Yes, I'll put your pool up.

Let me take some Tylenol first. I have a headache for some reason...

I Got Inspired by Mason and Daniel Pewter...

Bad Hair Day
by Me

Where is the gel that you needed the most
You pick up the brush and in the static it's lost
They tell me your hair just stays that way
They tell me your follicles have gone astray
And I'm tired of combin' on

You comb it in line but it just won't stay low
Your fakin' a smile and with the hairspray you go
You tell me your hairs been way off line
It has food pieces in it just sometimes
And I'm tired of combin' on

You had a bad hair day
It just won't go down
You fake up a smile when your brushin' around
You just don't know
Why it won't lie
You'll put on a hat and then maybe it'll hide
You had a bad hair day
The camera don't lie
It's coming back down and maybe then you won't mind
You had a bad hair day
You had a bad hair day

Where Can I Get One That Sucks?

Well, I did it and I have to say that I am disappointed in myself. I vowed 6+ years ago that I would never...EVER go out and buy one of them again. And what do I do today? I buy one. In the past I went through a lot of them and they all sucked - or in those particular cases they all didn't suck (and boy did it make a mess!). So today I'm out at Target and I see one of them just sitting there waiting for me to pick it up and purchase the darn thing. 'Try me! Try me!' It was calling. 'I can withstand anything. I have great suction!' Yeah, okay I heard that one before. I was about to leave the aisle too, but something made me turn around and look it over again. I thought that maybe there was a chance that it has improved in the past six or so years. Oh and it was on sale. That had to be a sign, right? I put it in my cart and went on my merry way.

So I tried it with Mason today....

At first it stay in place...just like the others in the past.

Still there. Hey maybe this one has promise!

Or maybe not...

I have come to the conclusion that they just don't make good suction toddler plates or if - by chance - they do, my kids are the only one who can withstand the suction. No more plates for Mason for a while because he just makes a bigger mess than normal. And if you don't believe me...just ask Daisy.

My Fat...so UPDATE

So it's almost been a month since I posted that I needed to get serious again about my weightloss and for the most part I've kept my promise. I found that I couldn't really do the phase one of South Beach again (I do need some kind of carbs/fruit!). However, I did manage to cut back on a lot...and I mean A LOT...of bad carbs like sweets and starchy foods. I've been exercising for a total of 45 minutes/1 hour (so if I can't get my whole 45 minutes/hour into one workout I just break it down and do some exercise in the morning and some in the evening). I do mostly cardio, but I'm trying to do some weights as well.

Having lost lots of weight before, I learned that I need to not only watch what I eat, but I NEED to exercise. Not only does the exercise help me physically, but I find that it helps me mentally as well. After I exercise I feel so good about myself and it really keeps me - for the most part - in a happy/feel good mood. I find that if I don't exercise for a couple of days I start to get down in the dumps. For me it turns out that exercise is **my** prozac!

I've also learned that I can't beat myself up if I do cave in and have a cookie or a taste of ice cream - or whatever - once in a while. These delicious but oh so bad on the buttocks things will always be around me. I shouldn't have to live to avoid them. I should be able to live with them. It's okay if I have them on occasion (READ: Not EVERY day). However, when I do eat them my servings are not as big as they used to be.

And the result? I've lost this much fat...(Looks lovely doesn't it? ;) )


That's 14 pounds of fat (and maybe some water mixed in there)! My hard work - and my ability to just say NO! to most of those fantastic yummy sweets and starchy foods - is paying off!

I still have a ways to go with my weightloss and I may never get totally there, but ya know what? I WILL BE...heck...I AM healthier and I'm not giving up. Nope - I'm not giving in. It is, afterall, my way of life...

I Guess It Really Is Hotter Than Balls Outside...

I was just curious (Read: Bored) and looked up the origin of the phrase "Hotter Than Balls".

balls: It's an old wives' tale that testicles can be used to measure hot temperatures to within a few degrees. Hot as balls is around 100 degrees Fahrenheit; hotter than balls is anything hotter. (See witch's tit.)
Example: This summer has been hotter than balls.

Man I feel sorry for whoever's testicles were used during THAT experiment!

I Have Three...Ya Got A Problem With That?

I admit it . I was one of THOSE people. I'm not proud of it, but I surely couldn't help myself. A family would enter a room and I would automatically start the count. 'One....two...three.....how many kids do these people actually have...geez?' I would think to myself. Then one day something happened to make me stop 'counting' - I had three kids.

It's pretty funny how some people react to someone who has more than two kids. As soon as I had Mason I would get remarks such as, "I see you're trying to start your own fill-in-the blank-with-any-type-of-sport team. The first time someone told me that I laughed. I even laughed the second,third, fourth,twenty-fifth, one hundredth time I heard it. Now, however, if someone says it I just hold my breath and smirk. (Oh and to get off of the topic a little...the "My Three Sons" comments...yeah...not so funny anymore... )


Where am I going with this? Let me tell you about what happened this past weekend...

The weeners and I went to a neighborhood boy's birthday party this past weekend. It was nice. We got to catch up on lots of neighbors who have been away on vacation. There were also other people there - of course - that were friends/family of the birthday boy and his family.

So there I was trying to chase after Mason - who was infatuated with anything that he could take down/pull apart/throw - when all of the sudden Timmy comes up to me and asks me for something. As I'm helping Timmy and holding on to a thrashing Mason who wants me to put him DOWN, Christian comes limping in with a playground injury. Just when I'm putting a bandaid on Christian's wound - with Mason who is still thrashing away and Timmy who is starting to get impatient waiting for me - I hear a female voice in the background say in a quiet but not so quiet way, "How many kids does she have?" By 'she' I knew she was talking about me. I glimpsed over to see who was inquiring about what I do with my own ovaries. There were two non-neighborhood friends of the family who was throwing the party just sitting all hovered into a corner.

Normally it wouldn't have offended it me the way it did. However, it was the way she said it. It was so snotty and oh so bitchy. I wanted to tell her it was none of her business. I wanted to ask how many kids she had, but it was quite obvious that she only had one child due to the fact that her kid didn't have an iota of dirt on him and his gelled/hairsprayed hair on his head did not move one inch.

So after I put the bandaid on Christian and helped Timmy with his problem, I told them in quite a loud voice to go get their brothers Larry, Tom and Little Ed because everyone was going to sing Happy Birthday soon. Christian and Timmy looked a bit confused and before they could make a remark I just shooed them off and said "Go now...Hurry up!" I then turned to the woman who made the comment, shrugged and said "Kids...and to think I want more...."

I walked away with my thrashing boy and smiled.