Rock on my Butt and flowers on my head…

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The other day Jenna and I were driving past a cemetery. She got really excited, in her eyes they were big rocks with flower trophies on top. She wanted to climb them and bring all the flowers home. “Can we PLEASE go there? I really need to go in there, PLEEEEEEASE!!!” Damn it. 

I should have just told her not today but that would insinuate that it was acceptable to play in cemeteries. There was never going to be a day we could play there. So instead I told her we couldn’t play in there BECAUSE it’s a cemetery. She asked, “what’s a cemetery? Can we go there and play? I will be good at the cemetery, I promise.” Damn it.

I explained when you get older, things can happen and people pass away. Their body stays here but their spirit goes to Heaven. We bury their body in the ground and we put the big rock on top with their name on it so we have somewhere to go and talk to the person. A lot of people bring them flowers and leave them by the big rocks. It’s not a place to play.

She was content with that explaination and didn’t ask any follow-up questions; which lead me to believe we’d never speak of it again. Hallelujah! 

A couple of days pass by and we drive past the same cemetery again but Jaelyn’s with us now. Jenna says, “Jaelyn when mommy gets old and dies, we’re gonna bury her body in there and put a rock on her butt and flowers on her head. It’s ok though because we can talk to her whenever. Mommy I will bring you flowers and talk to you everyday before nap time.” Damn it. 

Jaelyn looked horrified. “What’s she talking about mommy? Are you dying? Mommy I’ll miss you when you’re dead.” Daaamn it.

I know that despite Jenna being half Jaelyn’s age she comprehends things better than he does. This may have been a car conversation for Jenna but it shouldn’t have been for Jaelyn. He needs to be sat down where he could ask all his questions and have my undivided attention. I tried so hard to avoid the conversation in the car but he wouldn’t drop it. He was forcing me to answer. Damn it. 

There are so many reasons my kids might end up on a shrinks couch that I have to answer these kind of questions vaguely but truthfully. It worked enough to stop the conversation but from the look on Jaelyn’s face, I knew this wasnt the last time we’d discuss death. It was just a matter of time. Damn it.

A week or so passes by and Brandon comes home from work. It’s late and the kids are already in bed. Brandon goes upstairs to take a shower. Jaelyn comes to the top of the stairs and in a loud whisper says, “mommy I’m gonna miss you when you’re dead.” DAMN IT! 

First off, I totally spaced telling Brandon about the whole cemetery conversation with Jenna and it had been over a week. Secondly, I never told him about the car conversation with Jaelyn either. Brandon works long, hard hours. When he gets home he’s not just physically tired but he’s mentally tired too. I always give him run downs of that day’s happenings but for some reason it never came up. But it did that night. Damn it. 

When he walked into the hallway Jaelyn called him in his room and gave him the sob story on how much he’s gonna miss me. Brandon comes downstairs and says with an exasperated look, “So, Jaelyn’s crying because he’s gonna miss you when you’re dead.” Damn it.

With the look on Brandon’s face combined with the week I had just had all I could do was laugh. This was the first week of the summer and Brandon was working extremely long days. I explained it all to him. His reactions were the same as mine. We both knew that conversation should have never happened like that but it couldn’t be avoided. After Brandon had talked with him that night I thought it was finally over. Hallelujah!

At 3 am the next morning  Jaelyn came in our room crying about my death. I was as understanding as I can be at 3 am, “dude, I’m not dying, now get your butt back in bed.” I’m not lucky enough to die anytime soon, DAMN IT!

Why am I the one whose death we have to keep talking about? Can we pick someone elses, ANYONE elses, death? What about Brandon? Yeah let’s talk about him dying. Let’s throw him under the bus damn it! It was 3 am and I had been hearing about my death for weeks now. I was willing to throw anyone under the death bus.

We haven’t had any more death talks and it’s been a couple of months now. I know the war isn’t over but I feel like this battle has been fought and won. With any luck it will never be spoke of again, until I actually do die. Then Brandon can have this talk with them because I’m done talking about my own death. By the way, I’ve already called dibs on dying first…

HALLELUJAH!!!!

Family Fun Day

Every couple of months Brandon and I try to set aside a full day of family fun.

We decided to spend the morning hours at the park and after nap we would go to this little carnival that popped up in a parking lot nearby.

We never learn our lesson, we shouldn’t tell the kids until we’re all loaded up in the car. Their minds run wild with questions while mine throbs from repeating everything 20 gazillion times.

Jaelyn thought going to the park meant no carnival that afternoon and Jenna couldn’t understand why we weren’t just putting our shoes on leaving, nappy haired and braless. Usually I don’t care about my attire but I try to dress nice on family fun days. I was even going to wear Spanx, but I couldn’t find them. They must be hiding from me; they can’t take all this sexiness at once. I understand, it’s a lot of pressure. 

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Bearded J’s at the park.

 

We bribed the kids with Dairy Queen in order to leave the park without a scene. It was a mutual win, Brandon and I enjoy Dairy Queen just as much as the kids.

We got the kids their food and after the longest battle with Jenna over a vanilla milkshake or a cherry arctic rush, it was nap time.

After nap time it was carnival time. In essence it all sounded like so much fun. In reality it felt like hell it was so damn hot outside and all the carnies were screaming to get our money. Maybe not hell, maybe a strip club?

We had to wait until a

 certain time for wristbands so we decided to go ahead and grab some food. The kids were upset; they can’t eat at a time like this, there’s rides to be rode and games to be played.

They barely ate their food so Brandon and his mom took the older 2 around to play some more games and buy us time.

I stayed on the bench feeding Jace and enjoying the whole reason I go to carnivals, the food. I love their pork tenderloins and lemon shake ups.

The kids couldn’t wait any longer so we ended up buying tickets for them to ride the carnival rides. We bought Brandon tickets because the kids wouldn’t ride alone and there was no way my big ass was getting on any of the rides, look who assembled them. Fuck around and break a carnival ride? That’s a whole new level of fatness that I am not willing to hit.

The look I got from Brandon everytime he realized he would have to ride along with the kids was hilarious. Especially the dragon roller coaster, that look was a personal favorite. I will not lie; watching him struggle to get into that tiny spot made me feel good. I have leverage now! I’ll never have to sit in another booth again!

With every ride Jenna’s excitement grew; she was having the time of her life. With every ride Jaelyn’s anxiety grew; his smiles were beyond forced. Jenna was grinning ear to ear while Jaelyn was practicing his lamaze breathing.

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Bearded J’s at the carnival.

 

When we left, it was late and the kids were grimy from sweat and dirt. I’m not proud of this but the only one who got a bath was Jaelyn. It was only because he had school the next day and I refuse to let him be the stinky kid in class.

When I laid in bed that night I realized family fun day should happen more often. I love my family and cherish every moment spent with them.


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Baby Jace

 

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When I first found out I was pregnant with Jace, I knew having another baby would change my life but I never knew how much. He was by far the hardest pregnancy of all three. My last month was spent on bed-rest with false labor so bad it would register on a NST test and strong enough to alarm my OBGYN. Just climbing the stairs was enough exercise to onset false labor. It was crappy and amazing all at once. I wanted to (but not really) do stuff but doctor’s orders said I couldn’t. I was kind of winning.

 

I felt so bad; here I was at home every day and I couldn’t do anything for myself let alone care for my family. Brandon was awesome, he stepped up his game and did almost every chore there was. He mopped floors, cleaned bathrooms and even did laundry. Brandon just wouldn’t cook. But that’s only because he’s not a cooker, he’s more of a lets just order a pizza kinda guy. Which lead me to gain more weight in the last month of my pregnancy than I did prior.

Jaces delivery was everything I expected. By this time I was a C-section professional. The nurses had a good time with me, I was easy to care for.

Back in the delivery room, my nurse told me in the middle of the night they had to do an emergency c-section on a first time mother. The mom was a hot mess. Took almost an hour just to do her spinal tap because she was nervous and shaking. Screw that. 

I’ve been waiting 9 months to not feel anything from my boobies down. With 2 kids at home this was going to be a mini vacation for me. A vacation where I get my new baby and our main goal is to poop within 48 hours of delivery. I was going to have the time of my life! 

Our first night in the hospital was rough. Seemed like every pregnant lady in the city was in labor and no one wanted an epidural. Ladies, take the damn epidural! I assure you, other than a fist bump here and there no one cares if you gave natural birth or not. 

I

 was released from the hospital a day early. Under normal circumstances, I would have been pretty upset but they have this new no nursery policy now. Babies stay in your room 24/7. A heads up on the policy change may have influenced me to use my birth control more effectively.

B

etween the natural births with a bunch of tree hugging hussies and this keep your own baby bullshit policy, screw that hospital.

Honestly though had I known what the first 48 hours with 3 kids at home would be like, I would have never pushed that poop out a day early, never.

Postpartum with Jace was also the hardest for me.

My body wouldn’t heal properly. Brandon had to push gauze into my incision and flush it out daily with an antibiotic cleanser. How freaking humiliating. I don’t even fart in front of him and now I had to hold my fat roll up so he could clean me and shove me full of gauze. I’m lucky he’s awesome and thinks me being the mother of his children is sexy.

Jace has been a handful since birth. From the get go he suffered from baby of the family syndrome. I was only able to take one shower at the hospital because as soon as I would turn the water on he would cry. Damn that keep your own baby policy!

 

When the nurses would take him for vitals or tests, he would start crying the minute they’d push him out of my room and he wouldn’t stop until he was back in my arms. It made me feel good that he only wanted me but I really wanted to wash my lady parts. I wasn’t really a want, I needed to wash my lady parts!

Jaces behavior hasn’t changed much over the past year. The only things he did way before his time was crawl and walk. The boy needs to keep up with his older siblings. All other milestones he refused to meet.

I took Jace to his doctor for a routine checkup. I asked a lot of questions thinking something maybe wrong. His doctor diagnosed him with baby of the family syndrome. There was nothing to make them believe there was anything physically or mentally wrong with Jace. He just loved being the baby. Jace wouldn’t hold his own bottle at 9 months old because he was constantly on the go. To him that 15 minute bottle break was a euphoric utopia and there was no way he was holding his own bottle during such a blissful time. 

Jaelyn and Jenna dote on him like he’s a real Prince.  They always introduce him as their “baby brother Jace.” There’s no way you can’t dote on him. With that smile he can get away with anything. He’s not all sweet and happy though, if you make him angry its like playing with the devil.

I wish I had more stories to fill this with but Jace is only a year old. He’s already a shit-digger; such a handful, he gets into everything. I really can’t wait to watch him grow up. Jace has such determination and a good deposition that the world is truly at his fingertips. He’s going to do ginormous things and there’s no holding him back. That kid is going to shine brighter than any star you’ve ever seen.

Jace is my happy ending; no more babies! Hallelujah!


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