A story involving blood and mucus

This is a story involving blood, mucus and shoving things up bodily orifices that should not have things shoved up them.

Hey, where did everyone go?

In other words, it’s the story of Olivia’s birth. Actually, she had already been born at this point. So it’s a story about 20 minutes after Olivia’s birth. There is also a placenta involved, but only momentarily.

So, I had just given birth to Olivia, and my placenta (that’s the placenta reference we discussed earlier. The word placenta will not be mentioned anymore this post, you may look at the screen again.) successfully also delivered (there were problems with that the first two times…later though because it would involve mentioning that word that I promised we wouldn’t mention). I’m staring at this slimy thing now attached to my breast and cooing over her when the midwife, Lauren, grabs my attention.

“We have a small problem.”

While she is telling me this, I notice that in her gloved hand is not only blood, mucus and other bodily fluids, there are four small white pills.

“That’s odd.”

I think to myself.

“Why would she put those in her hand when I have to take them? Now there’s blood, mucus and other bodily fluids all over them. That’s kind of gross. Actually, that’s really gross!”

While I’m thinking this, she continues to tell me the problem.

Lauren-“You’re bleeding, a lot. In order to stop the bleeding, I have to give you these pills…up your butt.”

Me-“Oh I can take those orally. I know they are covered in blood, mucus and other bodily fluids, but it is MY blood, mucus and bodily fluids. I don’t mind. Hey, no really, I can swallow those easy.”

Well, you can imagine, she didn’t take me up on my offer. Those suckers “Entered” where things should only “Exit”, the bleeding stopped and I didn’t die.

I also now only take medicine that doesn’t resemble small white circular pills, because seeing them brings back bad memories.


Is this thing on?

So, yeah, I noticed. It’s been a while. I didn’t write, I didn’t call. It wasn’t you, it was me. It’s been so long, I had to request a new password because I had forgotten mine.

I started another post to tell you all about what I’ve been doing (and not doing) and it was very depressing and angry, because that’s how things have been the past five months. I was going to tell you why and then decided against it. I can say that I have stayed away because it just would have been a bunch of whiney posts about how miserable I am, and that gets old. I would have written things that I would come to regret later.

So here we are, five months later. Things are not completely better.

The biggest thing right now that has me stressed out the most is that there is a baby inside of me, which, honestly, is completely uncool. Back in November I tweeted/FB’ed about contemplating a fourth. The first thought I had when the pregnancy test came back positive was “Three is a VERY good number.” I still believe that, and in 20 weeks, there will be a fourth. This thought has brought me to tears on numerous occasions the past three months. Until recently (well, after the first trimester BS), I was able to forget for a little while that I was pregnant. It is now obvious that I am pregnant to anyone out there, not to mention the pokes and prods I feel from the inside. There is no forgetting now. Everything I do I wonder how I am going to do this with four. How am I going to do this with a baby? I am completely done with dealing with a baby. I just don’t want to do it anymore. I’m tired of the diapers, the neediness, the crying because you want something and I HAVE NO CLUE just what that is! I don’t want to potty train another one. I don’t want to convince another one “You REALLY need to nap!”. If this one needs a binky (3 for 3 so far), I don’t want to have to go through taking it away. Bottles, baby food, blankets, umbilical cords I DON’T WANT TO DO IT AGAIN!

And do you know what else? This whole growing a baby inside of me, it’s not beautiful, it’s gross. There is a human inside of there. A real live person. Pregnant bellies, yeah, not attractive at all. I’ve been fortunate not to have a turkey timer belly button, and that is good, because that is really weird. It’s not cute, it’s not funny, it’s gross. Sorry, but this whole pregnancy bit is weird and gross. I. Don’t. Like. Being. Pregnant. Don’t try to convince me it’s not with your “Miracle of life” BS. There is a human inside of me fucking up my hormones, bouncing on my bladder and making it difficult to breathe. Uncool.

I’m sorry for all of those who are pissed at my “ungrateful” attitude. I know there are women out there who spend thousands of dollars in order to hear the pitter patter of little feet and here I am, finding myself pregnant after breathing the same air as my husband and, quite frankly, there are very few things I want less right now. All I can do is offer you hope that you will one day become pregnant, but don’t hate me because I am and don’t want to be.

Don’t tell me how lucky I should feel that I conceive so easily and how women would kill for that. YOU CAN HAVE IT!

Don’t tell me babies are a blessing. I will not suddenly realize how wonderful this “gift” is after hearing that. In fact, it’s possible it will be the last thing you say and then I’ll have to raise my “blessings” through prison bars. You wouldn’t want that now would you?

DO NOT tell me that I don’t really feel this way BECAUSE I DO! I’m not proud of it, but do not try to tell me how I feel. I AM ANGRY!

Last but not least, don’t bring God into it. Just don’t.

So that’s the bad news. The good news? It’s a boy. There’s that at least.

I promise not to be angry next post. Which may mean I won’t be posting again until William Patrick is potty trained.

phillipe and jacques take you on a tour

phillipe: ‘allo! i am phillipe and thees ‘ere eezzz jacques, and oui are dust bunnies! oui wanted to jump on zee computer to tell all of our dust bunny friends ‘ow much fun oui are having at madmoiselle ereen’s home.

jacques: that eezzz so right phillipe! thees place eezzz a dust bunnies dream come true. a “dust bunny playground” if you will.

phillipe: hahaha! oh jacques that eezzz so true. come, come let us take you on a tour. when you first walk in zee door, you will find zee meet and greet area. usually very crowded due to zee open bar.

jacques: oui! zee open bar!

phillipe: a very popular place. if you continue onward into zee living area, you will find zee small forest. popular with zee young lovers. the 5×7 area is soft and very well protected from the elements. if you find yourself lost, feel free to climb onto any one of zee many small rawhide mountains to get a look at where you are. if you see zee dog, stay calm, and zank her for leaving the small rawhide mountains for us to use.

jacques: if you find yourself without a bunny to snuggle with in the forest, please, join the fun under zee couch! it eezzz a party 24/7. plenty of fellow bunnies to dance with and also various interesting objects to gaze upon. there are typically several soft sock pillows to lounge upon, large balls to roll around with your friends, interesting reading material and fun places to climb.

phillipe: speaking of climbing! do not forget to visit zee top of zee couch and take on zee clean laundry mountain! be sure to attempt to climb to zee top, but don’t miss out on zee many small caves! a great place for spelunkers. this is only one of many clean laundry mountain’s throughout zee entire house. beware, however, of zee dirty laundry mountains.

jacques: ah, oui. they look very similar to zee clean laundry mountains, but get too close, and you will find that they are very, very different. while also very fun to explore, make sure you don a gas mask.

phillipe: if you find yourself getting hungry, do not fret, just head on over to zee kitchen. you will always find a veritable buffet. oreo cookies, pretzels, cherry yogurt, coffee, why this morning, i found a cheezy puff.

jacques: no!

phillipe: oui!

jacques: after oui finish here my friend, you must take me!

phillipe: can do, can do my friend.

jacques: if you find yourself feeling crafty, under the miniature table you will be sure to find enough art supplies to fill your needs. from crayons, to glue sticks, to construction paper, to bits of ribbon and more! phillipe, do you hear something?

phillipe: no jacques, i do not.

jacques: ok, i must be imagining it. anyway, here at ereen’s home, you will find everything for every dust bunny…i hear it again, it sounds closer now.

phillipe: i hear something now too. oh, zee wind is picking up. did you hear anything about a storm today jacques?

jacques: no phillipe, i did not. i hear screaming from our fellow dust bunnies! what could be happening?


not me #2!

started by mckmama, “not me monday” spread like wildfire. blogger’s from around the world confess the things they DID NOT do the previous week, and then link it back to mckmama’s blog for the world to gaze upon, gasp and then judge. here is my contribution. i hope you will contribute as well.

this week:

  1. i DID NOT ask angelo to purchase more disposable diapers. we only use cloth diapers here. and had i asked him to purchase more disposables (which I DIDN’T) i WOULD NOT have requested the large box of them.
  2. i DID NOT put a cloth diaper cover over a disposable diaper in order to get this shot.
  3. i DID NOT just lose all the pictures on my laptop!
  4. i DID NOT spend all day at my mom’s house playing “diner dash”.
  5. i DID NOT forget to meet the bus to retrieve the neighbor boy because i was (NOT) playing “diner dash”.
  6. i DID  NOT delegate pick-up-the-kids duty to angelo because i was (NOT) playing “diner dash”.
  7. i DID NOT wake up, go to church, come home, go to sleep, wake up, see “spring awakening” and then have dinner with my mom, come home, go to sleep. in the few hours i was home, i was productive and helpful…
  8. i DID NOT temporarily forget where i was and to whom i was talking to when i said the term “butt rape” in front of my religious education class full of high school freshmen (that would be 14 year olds y’all).
  9. i DID NOT fail to have my meds refilled and skip two days of it only to have a complete meltdown thinking everyone had abandoned me.
  10. i DID NOT fail to fold laundry (again).
  11. i DO NOT currently have six-ish (seven-ish? eight-ish? more-ish?) loads of laundry that need to be folded.
  12. i DID NOT in a fit of rage use “f***in!” several times at the top of my voice.
  13. i DID NOT then hear five year old moira use the same word (in context) moments later.

so, yeah.

*this is over the course of several weeks.



red legos

red red red

i like the color red

there is red everywhere

red red red

there is red on ladybugs

red red red

by: moira, age 5

i don’t have a title for this post as i don’t really have something to post about but figured that i really needed to post more often so here we are. expect randomness to abound

first and foremost, i would like to say how saddened i am about the fort hood shooting. it boggles my mind as to why people do this. it is said that he was upset about the news of being sent to iraq…fine, shoot off your foot but DON’T take your displeasure out on innocent men and women. how dare you. my prayers are with the families of the deceased and wounded. i pray for the wounded to fully recover and i pray for the shooter’s family. i also pray for the shooter. i’m not sure what, but i think he is also in need of prayers as there is obviously something wrong with him.


on a much less serious note (although a VERY serious subject)…”your” and “you’re”.

“you’re” is a contraction meaning “you are” as in “you are driving me crazy by not using the correct words!” would be “you’re driving me crazy by not using the correct words!” NOT “your driving me crazy by not using the correct words!”.

“your” implies ownership. “your incorrect use of these two words is driving me crazy!”. you are the one incorrectly using these two words so you own the incorrect usage.


since president obama has decided that he wants to shorten the summer break because american’s are so far behind other countries in education (most who, btw, currently spend over 1,000 hours LESS in school than americans), i believe these extra hours should be spent pounding these two words and their differences into students’ heads. anyone who currently cannot tell the difference and consistantly use these two terms incorrectly should be forced to return to school to learn the difference. so basically, if you are checking everyone’s twitter updates and notice someone incorrectly using these words, you are obligated to contact your (or their) local law enforcement and report them so they can be sent to class. failure to do so will result in fines no less than $5,000 and/or 6 years in a maximum security prison.


p.s. on this subject, yes melanie, it was your incorrect usage of this word that brought this to mind but i know that it was a one time, late night, bleary eyed, deep in the throes of some ailment, and not ignorance that caused you to commit this heinous crime. fear not, had it not been you, someone else would have done it and we’d still be discussing it.


“hubby” and “hubs” need to be stricken from everyone’s vocabulary. someone needs to create an internet script that morphs “hubby” and “hubs” into “husband” when typed into any program.


my sister’s name is “amanda lynn”. say it out loud. kind of combine the two names…”amandalynn”. think of a musical instrument…do you have it yet. no? think on it. answer at the bottom.*

p.s. amanda, i love you!


the bigs are doing fantabulous in school. aidan has come a long way since the beginning of the year and we are so proud of him. he is starting to enjoy reading but i believe math is his best subject.  moira is doing great as well. she is no longer going to marry tony when she is 8, but is now going to marry a classmate, will. yesterday i met will’s older sister who is also infatuated with moira (in the she’s-so-cute-i-want-to-put-her-in-my- pocket kind of infatuation not in the i-want-to-marry-her-too type of infatuation). as for actual education news for moira, she is doing great in everything. when at the library, she always picks up informational (educational) type book like “all about fish” and “growing up: the barn owl”. this child is a sponge.


olivia is quite the character. she is like moira, but even more so. of aidan and moira, moira was (is) the more adventerous one. she never had any fear of just walking away from us. olivia takes that to a whole new level. even when we go to leave, she just doesn’t care. “there is cool stuff out here somewhere, and i’m going to find it with or without you. check ya’ later”. her favorite word is “mamamamamama”, but she can also say “down”, “go”, “dada”, “shoes”, “hi”, “bye”, “binky”, “blanket”, “no”, “moira”, “aidan” and more that i can’t remember. she also signs “milk”, “more”, “please”, “help” (when i remind her to sign it when she needs it) and “rock”. she loves shoes, brushing her teeth, the great outdoors, running, walking and climbing.


i am having spaghetti noodles with butter and parm cheese for lunch today.


so a woman a i went to high school with is married to a man taller than she is (wait for it). she is like 6’10”, i wonder how tall he is?


if we aren’t friends on facebook, we should be, because i posted a series of uber cute pics of olivia (i’m in them too but i’m not uber cute) on my profile. i posted one of them on my twitter too.


peanut m&m’s while delicious, do not make a very filling breakfast. how sad.


i have the best husband in the world. no really, i do.


ok, that’s it for this episode of completely unrelated thoughts.

thank you jerry for help with this blog posting

thank you amanda for allowing me to poke fun at your name.

*a mandolin.



a “skanky bitch” stole my phone

so, halloween was not all that nice to me. i burned the crap out of my neck with the curling iron, the dog ate half of the cupcakes for the kids’ school fall fest and my phone was stolen.

well to be fair, i left it at h.e.b and someone found it, but failed to turn it in to customer service. yeah, they totally stole it.

i kept calling it from angelo’s phone hoping that it was still sitting somewhere in h.e.b and someone would hear it, answer it, we’d chat, we’d meet up so they could return it to me, we’d become BFF’s, have each other’s names tattooed on our ankles, change our children’s names to be the same as our new BFF and then we’d ride off into the sunset. but alas, the closest i came to that beautiful scenario was a “skanky bitch” finding my phone and using it as her own.

changing any of my kids’ names to “skanky bitch” was out of the question.

i had other’s calling my phone as well. texts were sent to “me” but “I” never answered the phone or returned any texts (because that’s how “skanky bitches” roll). amanda even sent an “emergency text” (it’s in quotes because it wasn’t a real emergency but a genius plan to have “skanky bitch” make some contact with someone) relaying how ethan was not breathing and was being rushed to the e/r. “skanky bitch” doesn’t have a heart.

later on the next day (after many more failed attempts at contact) we checked the records to see what kind of activity my phone was being used for. “skanky bitch” made numerous texts to two different numbers and received numerous texts from those same two numbers. she checked the internet a couple of times and sent multimedia texts (pictures. i fear what of.). angelo called one of the numbers and questioned the guy but he said he had no clue. i called the other number and was able to get that guy to contact the “skanky bitch” (he was the one that called her that btw) to find out what she was doing with my phone and if she could please call me. apparently it was her phone and she wasn’t calling anyone.

i really feel bad now knowing that the phone i bought back february and the service we bought almost two years ago were actually hers and i was using it selfishly all this time. how devastated she must have been for almost two years to have a phone number but no phone to use it with. when she finally happened upon it randomly in an h.e.b in a town not her own, the joy she must have felt! how rude of me to constantly call and text the phone after i inadvertently returned it to its owner. even more rude of me to involve others in my attempt to retrieve the phone i mistakenly believed to be mine.

how even more rude we were when we disconnected the number.