Baby gear sure has changed...

I am not a first-time mother, but apparently in the five years it has been since I have had a newborn, lots of things have changed. 

Umm…am I the only one who thinks it is nasty to syphon boogers out of a child’s nose?  I love my child--soon to be children--but whatever happened to good old fashioned kleenex, or one of the little aspirators you just employ your hand to work?  These didn't exist when I had Caroline, nor would I have thought any different about them then as I do now.  The more shocking news (well, to me) is that it is not called the "booger sucker 2000" or something along those lines. 

And to top it off (no pun intended) I bet these little bastards sell like hotcakes.

More breeders...wait, Whitney passed away

So, I felt myself getting a little fired up last week hearing that TLC was introducing another show about a family with 19+ children.  Please note that I am not trying to bash those with high levels of fertility- as one who has struggled with it, I don't want to mess with karma like that- but I really have an issue with glamorizing this topic.  I used to like TLC...really, I did.  But now, they are a network that focuses on obsessive couponing -yep, congrats on getting that pasta for $.05 a box, but what the @#(* are you going to do with 200 boxes of it??? - and little girls dressed like barbie dolls thanks to Toddlers and Tiaras.  They throw in a show glamorizing those with mental issues who hoard all of their belongings and then they highlight those who apparently hoard children.  I have issue with this...when is enough, enough?  And right as I was about to blow out this breeder-blog, it happened...the death of a celebrity took over all of the news in the world.  So, here I go...


First and foremost I want to state that I am not trying to come across as heartless.  I am fully aware that a child has lost her mother and that is very sad. It is sad that someone has lost their life due to poor decisions made and probably very non-intentional actions that night.  With that said, I do have issue with this taking over headline news.  Whitney Houston's death is as "tragic" to me as was Michael Jackson's-- and that is not very. There are more important issues going on in the world--does anyone take the time to remember all of our servicemen (and women) who are fighting for our country, or the police officers and teachers getting paid next to nothing for jobs most people just bitch about and are not ballsy enough to take on themselves???  These were two individuals who were blessed beyond words with a talent that provided them, and their families, with access to anything they could have ever wanted.  And in the end, they were addicts and continued on the path of self-destruction.  Trust me, before anyone tells me that I am being close-minded, please note that I am fully aware of the disease and have had drug addiction affect my family and loved ones...so I am not talking about turf I had never had to play on.  The problem I have is why is this news so "shocking" and "tragic" to the public?   It was not tragic--it was freaking stupid.  It was not shocking--it was coming.  When someone abuses their bodies for so long with non-natural substances like drugs, how can others be so damned surprised they "went too soon?"  Again, not being a bitch, just being a realist.  I remember a woman at work who was distraught over the death of Michael Jackson---really, are you kidding me that the news of his death affected your ability to work?  Did you know him?  Did you exchange Christmas cards every year? Did he eat Sunday suppers with you?  No---you listened to his music, watched his transformation to a white man and excessive plastic surgeries, his glamorized trials of scandal and such, and for this...you are grieving?    I guess I am turning bitter- strike that, have been bitter- but I just cannot sympathize with others on this one.  Did anyone who is mouring the loss of Ms. Houston, mourn the loss of a drug addict in their city who didn't make the news?  Probably not, because, well that just doesn't make the news.  Making the news versus not making the news is the only different though--they were still addicts.  While anyone reading this may think "dang, she is a cold-hearted bitch" please note that I just might be when it comes to this topic.  I know people struggle and I know there are illnesses out there that contribute, but I also know that you are only given one life and one body and YOU are responsible for that and need to be strong to overcome the crap in your life.  I have made stupid mistakes in the past, but I also have a famliy and loved ones that I want to live for.  I do not have millions in the bank to support my f-ups so there are choices in life I have to take.  I am sorry these people couldn't overcome their demons, but to glamorize it in the news makes me nauseous.  I am sorry however for the loved ones she left as they have to deal with her leaving this planet the way she did.  I cannot help but think they have anger in them as well, but it is not fair for me to judge...although, lets be honest I am judging.  Sorry to those whose lives are affected by this and who are so distraught, but do not come cry on my shoulder.  I will hand you a tissue, but you will not want me to open my mouth.  While someone is probably thinking "well, if that was her loved one, she wouldn't see it that way.."  You know--I so freaking would.  Of course I would be sad, but I would also be so pissed off that the someone I cared for was dumb enough to throw away so much for a stupid ass choice.  And yes, even with the disease of addiction, there is still a choice.  I wish those would be strong enough to fight it as opposed to gambling everyday with all that they have, but I cannot mourn this.

So, shall we talk about the 19+ kids now, or what?

Puppy love and the three stooges

Bedtime is not as "routine" as it should be in our house.  We have every intention, and actually do fall within the same time frame at night, but sometimes it just doesn't go according to plan. The other night was no exception.  It started with Caroline and I coming home to a tree on fire- for the record, said tree was a neighbors and it was from them burning their property.  It just happened to be right on the roadway for all to see---especially 5-year olds with fabulous imaginations.  It is that time of year and since we live "out" in the country we have been enjoying smoky-day every day this week.  Any who, Caroline was very intrigued by this tree and very concerned to boot.  I did my best to explain why some people burn their land, and she did very well to try to understand and not call 911.  We checked on the tree every 10-20 minutes before bedtime and I told her that if it didn't go out before too long, I bet the nice firemen would come put it out for safety.  She told me that we would listen for the sirens and asked if I heard them after she went to sleep, to please wake her so she could see the truck.  I agreed, she seemed fine and crawled into bed. Trying to get her to not obsess about said fire, I turned her focus on to the dogs.  They were in her room and Genga (our large GSD) was very intent on snuggling with Caroline.  So, two gallant attempts and the "puppy" was on the bed, between me and Caroline, getting hugs and giving kisses.  Caroline adores Genga and laughed that Genga was laying like we were with her head on her pillow.  The more Caroline laughed, the more Genga seemed to want to "play" and thuse our quiet bedtime attempt started to fade.  I got the girls calmed down to only have Caroline sit up real fast, startle Genga and they headbutted each other.  Caroline grabbed her forehead and dropped back on her pillow.  Not knowing if she was hurt or not, I started to sit up (cannot do it fast as trying to get from horizontal to vertical at 8.5 months pregnant isn't too easy) and was met with Genga taking her giant bear-paw to my eye which sent me back down holding my face as well.  As I am trying to make sure that my eyeball is actually still in my socket and try to get to Caroline, I hear her trying to catch her breath from laughing so hard.  She wasn't hurt at all, but thought the headbutt was hysterical and the fact that I got puppy-punched in the face to be even funnier.  So, Caroline and I are laying there, hands on some part of our faces and Genga sits us and starts kissing both of us.  More laughs and dog slobber passed and I had to end this accident-prone sleep time.  I told Caroline that if Genga stayed in the bed they could sleep together and I walked on out.  To my surprise (ok, not really) Genga actually stayed in the bed with Caroline for a while.  As I am cleaning up and attempting to get the house in order, what drives in front of the house--yep, the firetruck.  The whole time we were in her room with the three stooges moves in place, the Thomas Co. FD was across the street putting out the fire. 


So, we missed the big event of the night, but honestly with the punch to the eye I probably would not have seen much.  I think it was more important to Caroline to have her puppy snuggle than to see the big red truck in action. 

1 year difference

I just "found" this and realize that I didn't publish it like I had wanted to.  I was supposed to publish it on December 22,2011 So, without future adieu...

There is no doubt that we have had our fair share of family-addition related struggles.  At one point I was not even sure we would be blessed with Caroline let alone be able to give her a sibling.  As I noted before in an earlier post, last year we were so excited to learn that after years of trying we found out we were expecting...finally.  On this day last year, I found myself getting the worst news any expecting woman could hear "Mrs. Knight, I am so sorry but your fetus no longer has a heartbeat..."  I went from shock, to numb to not having time to process, to waking up in the surgical center hours later recovering from an emergency D&C.  I remember seeing the face of a mutual friend who was a nurse, and the look in her eye is what hit me the most--that was it...I knew it was final and I had to accept what had just taken place.  Luckily we had the holidays to keep me busy and occupied and a fiesty soon-to-be 4yr old that didn't allow for me to be sad.   

Fast forward exactly one year - to the day- and I am pleased to report I have just entered my third trimester with a healthy baby girl.  She is active and getting big and well...did I say active?  I heard that sweet heartbeat just the other day with my fabulous doctor congratulating me on this joyous occasion.  It is amazing how life can change in just 365 days.  It is amazing to think how long that time can be, yet it really isn't.  I cannot believe the irony of the "exact day...one year apart" timing of it all.  And while I was scared to death that the anniversary would be sad, I had a calming reassurance hit me (at 4am this morning) that I need not dwell and all is well-- yep, my God is a poet and a sick rhyme master. :)


I am all for "signs" and believe in them so strongly.  I know everything happens for a reason--whether we like it or not- and I am glad I just turned it over and realized I am not in control of things.  I take this "anniversary" as another sign...a welcomed sign...one that I am ever so grateful for.

Toodles!

Not my name...

What does one do when they are given a nickname that they do not want?  It is not bad, it is just annoying and I am trying not to go Italian-pregnant-chick crazy, but it needs to stop. There is someone --to remain PC and non-incriminating, I will just say that I am not related to said person-- who calls me by not-my-name and it drives me crazy.  First of all, we are not close enough for this person to "give" me their approved nickname and secondly, I am pretty sure they can see the look of disgust on my face when they use it. So, do I reply with an absurd name in response?  This way maybe the clueless one will say "what?" and I can reply with "well, my name is not _ _either, but you call me it...so I thought jackhole was something you wouldn't mind that I give you."

And so it begins...

My sweet hubby ordered us our own batch of egg cartons so we no longer have to collect empty ones from friends and family.  They came in last night and I am super excited to take it up a notch with this little egg-production factory we seem to have going on.  The cartons already had some pre-made print listed on them, but there is room for us to "customize" with our own labels if we choose...and yes, I will be making labels for them. In fact (with everything else going through my mind) I have been thinking of designs and such since they arrived and am starting to obsess over them. I will post a photo as soon as we come up with something to show everyone what they look like.  I have several names/designs picked out but my consult the chicken man but I think I already know which one he will prefer...

Gotta love poultry jokes!

Did I tell you I threw my dog a party?

I love my family more than life itself, but I have also been an animal lover since I was young.  I have always had pets, and will always continue to do so.  Seriously...horses, dogs, chickens, and a few new additions coming in 2012 should indicate my love of animals (for the record, I do not love the chickens, but I sure do like having them on the farm).   I absolutely love what I do for a living, but if I were ever to win the lottery, my dream would be to open an animal rescue/sanctuary. 
So, there is no denying that I love the furry critters I currently own.  Genga is only the second dog (next to Bailey the BEST lab ever!) who I have known their actual date of birth.  My sweet Bailey was born on Valentine's Day 1996, and Wonder Dog Genga came with papers so I have her birth certificate.  With that said, Wonder Dog recently turned 2 and Caroline and I decided we needed to celebrate her big day.  I would always buy Bailey a "meal" on his birthday- generally this "meal" consisted of hamburgers and/or steak- and he got an ice cream too.  Now, Bailey was fabulous in all senses and had an iron gut...sweet thing LOVED to eat anything and never got sick.  I still laugh when I remember him hijacking my lunch that summer we lived WAY OUT in the country and far from any place to get a replacement meal. Lord, I miss that dog.  Anyway, Wonder Dog has a sensitive stomach although I think it is starting to change--apparently a smoked pork chop does not make her sick like a small piece of cheese would do months ago- so we stay cautious with what she eats. For her birthday, though, Caroline and I opted to "celebrate" in Bailey fashion and get her some ice cream.  We went the dog-ice cream route and purchased Frosty Paws, got her a new bone, and  got her some treats.  Caroline decided it wasn't a "real" party without hats and candles so we got those as well- she wanted to "invite" all of her dog friends, but we agreed that might be too much for daddy to handle. Speaking of daddy, we decided to celebrate this event prior to him getting home from work.  I know I push his buttons with these dogs, but I didn't want him to have to witness what we were doing---although Face Book has a way to "share" items with everyone. :)

So, I think the photos will speak for themselves, but take a look at Genga's party...

Of course we couldn't leave out sweet Pam, but for such a chunky little dog, she sure did not want to finish her treat...crazy.