Let The Countdown Begin!!!

One of my favorite things to say- especially when I encounter a situation that should have been taught in school but wasn’t- is, “I’m not adult enough to handle that.” That phrase is my overwhelmed phrase. I use it regularly. That phrase has also morphed into something else, said sarcastically, “I don’t know what kind of adult you think I am, but I assure you, I am not.” I use the second mostly for when someone points out something stupidly obvious that any normal human adult would figure out.

My best friend uses it when she needs a list and schedule. And that’s where I come in. I’m her secretary, her librarian, and a few other things. I’m currently in possession of her tentative schedule, her packing list, and trip itinerary. Her schedule when she finally gets back is a little up in the air, but pretty well hammered out. There are a few more things that need to be done, but those can be fitted in and around the other things.

The lists need to be finalized. All the information is in there and updated, but they’re not quite functional, yet. Luvey’s not so good with lists, so I’ll be turning the To Do List into a calendar.I’ll spend tomorrow organizing everything and making it pretty. I’m obsessive like that. Then I’ll email it off to my Luvey.


12 days until she leaves. 15 days until I can see her. And, yes, we have a countdown going.


New Pediatrician and a New Baby

I’ve been waiting since April 22nd to get Abby into a new pediatrician’s office. It was one problem after another. Finally, though, I was able to take her to the doctor I wanted. I do believe we will be keeping this one.

She spent at least thirty minutes talking to be about everything from why I left the other doctor’s office to Abby’s allergies to her eczema treatment to her behavior. Abby through one of her fits when it came time to do the exam. I blame myself for that. I rushed her instead of explaining what the doctor wanted.

The doctor wanted to try doing a hearing test if Abby would cooperate with it. I explained in great detail what the test was and what would happen. She understood, but couldn’t quite get that there would be multiple beeps. The pediatrician thinks that Abby’s slight speech impediment make be caused by her hearing. The test didn’t actually work out.

Other than that and a couple of bug bites that are getting infected, Abby is the picture of health. If she gets sick, I only have to drive 45 minutes away for her to see a doctor.



On an unrelated note: One of my cousins had her baby today! A healthy baby boy born early this morning!

The Mashed Potato Incident Of 2016

Last night was brutal. I came home to find myself in a very intense highly dangerous situation. I was cooking supper (with the assistance of mom and dad). My job? Mashed potatoes.

I reached over the stove to turn the burner down, and BOOM! Volcanic potatoes. I wiped the hot mush off my arm, grumbling because, well, hot potatoes are hot. All of a sudden my arm got hot, hot, HOT!!! I ran over to the sink and ran my arm under the cold water.  Sweet relief.

Until the water stopped… In the fridge is a bottle of aloe. I wrestle with the top. Really? Child-proof? Abby could open it with her eyes closed and both arms behind back and both feet on the floor. It finally opens and my younger brother says, “It’s got the green in it!” I’m fairly certain James is missing a few marbles. He then says, “The dye.”

Dagnabbit!!! I’m allergic to the green dye in aloe… Stupid brother saving my skin from allergic reaction. I guess I owe him something now. Probably ice cream or something (which was rectified tonight, actually). So I put ice on it instead. Last night, there was a nice sized area of arm that was red and upset looking. Today it’s just a small blister that looks roughly like a mustache. It’s quite irritating though.


It’s officially official! My Luvey and Baby Joseph are coming home! I’m so ecstatic. We’ve been busy planning for the last two days, and the planning will continue for the next few days. Then it’s a matter of waiting and executing the plan.

Luvey has given me free reign and total creative control over the plans needed to get her home. I’m going to make the documents beautimous! I’m also going to spend way more time on them than anyone should. I only obsess a little bit!

The trip home will hopefully only take two days, and then I’ll have two wonderful weeks with my baby and my Luvey. There are a few things on the list to be done like our infamous game night. We’re going to try and plan it on a weekend when Abby is with her grandmother. Things can get quite loud and verbally brutal.

She’s made a list* of all the people she HAS to see when she comes home, so we’re going to do a roughish schedule of that. It was supposed to happen tonight, but there was a traumatic mashed potato incident.

I’m just going to impatiently wait for my Luvey to bring me my baby. I’m way over due for some cuddles!



*The list was an adorable attempt. I gave her a B+.


Why I Let My Toddler Give Me Time Out

After work and daycare, we went shopping. This is not unusual. It happens at about once a week. We have a routine, and at the end of the trip, if Abby has been good, she gets to pick out something. She usually chooses candy. Today, she was not good.

She wanted to push the cart. I was fine with it. I hold on to the side so I “don’t run off.” Abby refused to push the cart if I was touching it. It was too busy for me to let her loose with it, which occasionally happens if she’s listening and there are very few people around. Abby is easily distracted. I’m easily distracted.

I gave Abby three chances to push the cart explaining that if she didn’t push the cart, I would put her back inside. She didn’t push the cart. I put her back into it. That’s when the fit started. She started screaming. When we got to the front of the store, I asked her, calmly, to take a Deep Breath. Deep Breath is our code for breathing deeply and trying to calm down.

Abby made it abundantly clear she had no interest in calming down. I refused to walk through the checkout with a screaming toddler. We stood by the doors while we waited on Pappy to pay. It took both of us to get tantrum Abby into her car seat. She proceeded to scream the entire twenty minutes from the store to home. She proceeded to scream and thrash while I carried her into the house. Then the throwing started.

I’m ashamed that I lost my cool, but I’m not ashamed to admit it. I’m only human, right? With the screaming and the throwing, I looked at my out of control three-year-old, and I screamed. She was quite shocked. I was quite shocked. I hadn’t exactly expected that when I opened my mouth. I walked out of the room, announced that I was going outside, and somebody needed to watch Abby. I went out and walked until I cooled off. I was gone maybe five minutes. Abby acted out a couple more times when I came back in, but I was calmer. She calmed down and asked me to read her a story.

We curled up on my bed. I read the book. Abby and I had a long talk after that. I explained to her that it was okay to be upset. It was okay to throw fits, even though I don’t like them, but that it wasn’t okay to throw and hit. I asked her to apologize for throwing things at me. She did. We hugged. I told her she still needed a punishment. She agreed that she wouldn’t play with any phone or tablet until tomorrow.

Then it was my turn. I apologized for losing my temper. I explained to her that sometimes Mommy gets frustrated and angry. I explained to her that it wasn’t okay for me to scare her. I explained to her that me screaming was inappropriate. I apologized. She beamed at me, gave me a big hug, and told me it was okay. I said, “I still need a punishment. What do you think it should be?” She said I needed a Time Out. I agreed, and I told her to let me know when I could come out. She came back a few minutes later and let me out. Then she apologized to Pappy for the way she acted at the store.

Everything is good now. There was only one small fit when I wouldn’t hand her the phone, but she playing with her GG now.

A Rough Good-Bye

My heart broke a little last night. When Abby started at this daycare, she instantly became all about three kids, and then quickly added a fourth after he started. As I don’t have permission from the parent’s, I’m just going to use initials. One of those kids, D, is starting pre-school. Yesterday was his last full day at daycare.

The daycare is really good at explaining to the children when and why people are leaving way in advance so it’s not a shock for them. I wasn’t too concerned about it. However, last night as we were going to bed, Abby started crying. She was sobbing that she missed D, and she wanted to see him again.

It was heart breaking. I held her. I rocked her. I tried soothing her. She will see him again. He’ll be there for school breaks, and we’ll see him in a few weeks at a birthday party, but it’s just so hard for her to understand. I so wish I could make her know that he’s not completely gone.

There’s A Bump On My Head!!!

Abby named today’s post based on events that happened last night. Last night, Abby tripped and fell. When it happpened, all I heard was the thunk of her hitting something. She ran over to me, and I picked her up. There was a nasty knott popping up on her forehead just above her right eye, and it was already starting to bruise. My poor baby!

I rocked her for a minute while she cried, and then I asked if she wanted an ice pack. She did, so we had to pull ALL of the ice packs out of the freezer until she found the exact right one. Then we had to pick out the perfect washcloth to wrap around the ice pack.

After all that, she was fine. I, on the otherhand, spent half the night rousing her just in case of concussion. My brain is huddled in a corner crying from exhaustion. We woke up late this morning. When I checked her bump, the swelling was almost completely gone.

The bruise, on the other hand, had grown. When I picked her up from daycare, it had grown even bigger. She has a very lovely black eye. Sadly, it’s not her first or second black eye. Abby is fearless, after all. Tonight, you wouldn’t even know anything had happened.