Hey, hey, do the zombie stomp

If you know me personally and not just online, you know I have a special spot in my heart and mind for, um… zombies.

brains….

Luckily I have found in The Husband a mate who shares this love. Frankly, the couple that plans for the zombie apocalypse together stays together. And before you start thinking we’re crazy or anything, we prefer to sit and watch movies about zombies. And watch tv shows about zombies. And listen to audiobooks about zombies. And read books about zombies. And talk about zombies (seriously – if zombies are, in fact, dead, how do they digest human flesh? Aren’t all their organs dead? So why do they eat human flesh?!). And dress up our baby as a zombie.

Okay. We might be crazy.

So crazy, in fact, I’m instituting ZOMBIE FRIDAY!!!! here on momnipresent. I think it might catch on.

Last night The Husband and I couldn’t find anything we really wanted to do so we sat down and watched a zombie movie. It’s our go-to when we’re bored and/or indecisive. I recently found out that netflix has a zombie genre, so I added a couple of films I thought sounded interesting. And I landed on a gold mine. I present to you…

“AAAAH! ZOMBIES!”

This is seriously awesome. ZOMBIES WHO DON’T KNOW THEY’RE ZOMBIES!!!! Truly a game-changer.

Tune in next week to find out what’s next on…

ZOMBIE FRIDAY!!!!

How much do I know, to talk out of turn

Along with a lot of the country, I’ve been following this mess going on in Washington, D.C. concerning the government shutdown. I read about how it’s going to impact our daily lives, etc. I see on the news how we’ll still get our mail, but we won’t get our tax refunds and we can’t go visit a national park. Well let me tell you what’s going on in our house.

The Husband can’t go to work. As an employee of the 136th Airlift Wing of the Texas Air National Guard he is deemed non-essential. And if he’s not at work, he doesn’t get paid. We aren’t eligible for the promise of back-pay. And since I stay home with the boys, he’s the only person bringing money into this household. We were lucky enough to have already received our tax refund so as long as this shutdown doesn’t last too long (or happen at all), we might be okay. We don’t have a savings account. We were all set to start one a few months ago, but something else happened.

We had to file for bankruptcy. Yeah, it’s been something we’ve been keeping under wraps for a while. Mostly because we’ve been doing what we need to do to get to our future goals and we just didn’t feel the need to put our shit out there for everyone. But I’m pissed now, and the only way to explain it is to explain it all. When The Husband began to work in Fort Worth The Joey and I were still living in Hell (or Howe… whatever). We tried for a year and a half to sell the damn place and during that time the housing market tanked. At the end of that year of a half The Joey was having night terrors every night The Husband was gone, I was essentially a single parent and we were officially upside down on our home. It was a terrible time and the choice came down to either we do something to alleviate the stress on all three of us or I was going to do something about it on my own, i.e. relocating myself and my son to Houston… without The Husband. We just couldn’t take it anymore.

So we essentially let the house go into foreclosure. We knew we’d have to take a hit and there would be consequences we’d have to weather before we could buy again, and we assumed those risks. Then The Husband became a federal employee. Our home loan had been guaranteed by the USDA and a few months ago they came after us for the remainder of our home loan to the tune of $36K. And they added on another $10K for fees and fun. They were garnishing The Husband’s wages, about $500 a month. We were still paying on The Elliot’s week-long hospital stay for pneumonia, The Joey had just had pneumonia (yeah – I still don’t know how they both got it!) and had to go to the ER, but everything was manageable without The Husband’s wages being garnished. We had been saving, we had been living by an envelope budget (thanks, Steve Ramsey!) and things were pretty awesome. Not anymore.

Now with this shutdown looming over our heads I am just pissed. We play by the rules. We don’t live outside our means. We’re doing what we can to pay back our debt. We just want to move forward and create a good life for us and our children, with a house and a yard and good schools. And now not only are we giving the government our expendable income, not only does my husband serve our country every weekday and one weekend a month, now the government won’t pay him for his [albeit civil] service and we don’t have anything to fall back on because we give it all back to pay a government agency. And why? I really wanted to know and I kept seeing things on the news, reading them on Huffington Post and CNN, and hearing them on NPR.

"It looks like it's headed" toward a shutdown, Reid said on the Senate floor. "The numbers are basically there, but I am not as nearly as optimistic -- and that's an understatement -- as I was" on Wednesday night after a previous meeting with Obama and Boehner.

Reid said the differences between the two parties "are no longer on how much savings we will get on government spending." Instead, he insisted, the major obstacle at this point is Republicans' insistence on including provisions related to abortion and environmental protection.

Republicans are, among other things, pushing to strip all funding from Planned Parenthood as well as trying to prevent the Environmental Protection Agency from regulating greenhouse gas emissions.

In a statement Thursday, Planned Parenthood noted that "by law, no federal funding for Planned Parenthood goes toward abortion." Cutting its funding would harm Planned Parenthood programs that provide contraception, cancer screenings and help deal with sexually transmitted infections, the group said.

"A small group with an extreme political agenda is forcing a shutdown of the United States government over a dangerous proposal that would bar women from getting the lifesaving health care they need," said Planned Parenthood President Cecile Richards.

-From CNN

So now I’m not only pissed about our financial situation and the possibility it’ll only get worse and we’ll never catch up and move our kids to a better school district, now I’m pissed because Republicans can’t keep themselves out of my vagina and uterus. AND they want to make toxic air acceptable for my children to breathe – a big topic here in Fort Worth due to the ongoing issues and unknowns concerning natural gas drilling.

I’m kind of torn. Do I support those refusing to back down on women’s and environmental rights, two things I feel extremely strongly about, or do I support having income to feed and shelter my children? The two should never have been entwined but now that they are there just doesn’t seem to be an answer.

I promise my next post will be happier.

I wanna know, have you ever seen the rain?

So every year I begin the spring season with high hopes of beautiful flowers and herbs. I head out to Lowes or Wal-Mart or wherever and load up my cart with planters, planting soil and seeds. I get myself outside (a rare event in and of itself), I get dirty (an even rarer event) and I dig around in the dirt planting things. Sometimes I even sweat (the rarest event of all). I water my little planters of dirt every other day religiously. I watch some seedlings poke through and then I talk to it, watering it every day and relishing in its growth and maturation process.

Then summer comes.

It’s too hot. Blazing, irradiating, scalding heat. The faucet singes my hand when I try to fill my watering can. Sometimes I swear I can feel the hellfire and smell the brimstone of the hell that is Texas summer. So I’ll attempt to con The Joey into watering my plants for me because it’s summer and he wants to live outside. But, as it happens, he’s only five and is about as reliable as I am in the watering-the-plants department.

Every once in a while I go outside with him (slathered in sunscreen and praying to God I don’t start sweating) and I’ll notice the poor withering, wilted, curled-up Plants Of Death and Dying. I begin my most sincere and heart-felt apologies to the plants (yes, I talk to my plants), watering them and nursing them back to health. But the cycle begins again; I don’t water and the Plants of Death and Dying eventually just die.

Here are some pictures I just took in my backyard:

IN MEMORIAM:

These are the remains of my basil plant. I used to make awesome pasta sauce with the help of this guy. Basil, you will be missed. Trust that you will be remembered fondly and often.

Alyssum and four o’clocks. R.I.P.

Alyssum and sweet peas (the flower). Do not go gentle into that good night.

Sunflowers, I don’t know how I’ll get over you.

Out of all tragedy comes a renewed hope in life. New life brings with it a sense of completion, a fresh start. In this case:

Sunflower sprouts and clover!

I planted sunflower seeds two years ago. And I’m still getting sunflowers. It’s awesome. And I know clover is a weed, but those little yellow flowers are so pretty! Of course, I know nothing about plants and for all I know those little yellow flowers could be something else entirely. So here’s a better picture in case you can identify it:

All joking aside, I really want to try again. Yes, again. It’s spring and I’ve got planting fever. The Husband and I have been discussing transforming our driveway from this:

to a wonderful patio oasis. We recently bought a sandbox for The Monsters, we’re looking at and pricing out patio furniture, and our plan is to create a barrier around our driveway space with large planters (I’m still on the hunt, if you have any suggestions. I’m going to Garden Ridge this weekend.). Yes, planters! You know what that means, don’t you?!

I GET TO PLANT FLOWERS!

This year I’m getting ambitious and I’m going to plant herbs, too. I love to cook and I miss Basil. But I don’t have planters yet, and we’re still in the planning stages of The Great Transformation (aka The Driveway Project). So on a trip to Target this week (danger, checkbook, danger!) I impulse-bought a greenhouse. Here is a collage of what I planted today:

In this picture (and in my greenhouse) are Texas bluebonnets, parsley, sweet peas, basil, cilantro, oregano, rosemary and four o’clocks. The herbs are pretty self-explanatory. I chose bluebonnets because I love bluebonnets and I kinda miss being out in Hell and seeing a ton of them everywhere. I call The Joey “Sweet Pea” and I’ve tried to grow them every spring for three years now. Finally, I chose the four o’clocks because when The Elliot decided to make his entrance and my water broke, I looked at the clock and it was 4:05am. I really hope they come in! After that, I really hope I keep them alive!

The last time I tried to use one of the greenhouses everything just molded and I got really sick. Because I’m allergic to mold. But I thought I’d give it another go and added plant food to the dirt mixture all in the hope that I see some sprouts in the coming weeks. For now I’ll have to settle for this:

All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to be free...

So I know I said I was all about picking this whole typing my thoughts into the computer for the world (or just some friends) to read, but then came the wrist brace. Yup, the wrist brace. And while I could tell a truly rad story about how I was walking into the bank with Elliot on my hip and took out a robber thus injuring my poor wrist, I'll go ahead and tell the truth.

It was a sewing injury.

Apparently all you people having babies or babies' birthdays led me into a hand-sewing frenzy and I got a little carpal tunnel. So I had to stop the sewing (sorry, Hollis - Stella's gift is coming, I promise!) and start wearing the brace. But I'm doing much better now. Thanks for asking.

Anyway, I made a big old batch of crawfish for Fat Tuesday this year. I tend to get homesick around Fat Tuesday every year. Not really because we used to do any Mardis Gras festivities, but because Fat Tuesday makes me think of crawfish and crawfish makes me think of home. All you Houston people know what I mean - during the season you can't go two blocks without seeing huge signs: "WE HAVE CRAWFISH!" "CRAWFISH SPECIALS!" "CRAWFISH BY THE BARREL LOAD!" Okay, maybe I made that one up, but I bet you get the idea. You're all smart people. I remember going to Fiesta with my dad, where he taught me how to pick the best crawfish. I remember helping him purge them in the kitchen sink, opening the doors because the spices made our kitchen into an experiment in tear gas. And of course, I remember the awesome yumminess that was the end result to an all-day affair.

When I was pregnant with The Joey I had this dream. It was one of those super-vivid sensory pregnant lady crazy dreams. I was back in my family's old house on Lost Oak (shout out, Cypressdale!) and I was walking down the hall. And I could smell something ridiculously delicious. So I walk into the living room and see through a cutout in the wall (I'm not a student of architecture so I don't know the correct term) that my dad was at the stove with his back turned to me, stirring something in the huge stockpot reserved for crawfish. As I walked into the kitchen I said, "Dad...?" because it was just so real. And just as he was about to turn around - I could even see the grin forming at the corner of his mouth - I woke up.

Now during this time I was pregnant with The Joey I felt very alone. I was hundreds of miles from my parents, all my friends had graduated college and moved away and here I was, knocked up and getting to know my husband who I had been dating for all of under a year before we got married. Don't worry - we know each other now, and we like each other. I've always been close to my dad, but unfortunately my mother and I had a HUGE falling out over the aforementioned situation of being knocked up and married and as a result my dad and I didn't really talk much, either. What I'm trying to emote here is that I had a very real reaction when I awoke from this incredible dream.

I was hungry.

Not just "I could eat" hungry. I was drooling on myself, "nothing is going to satisfy this hunger other than crawfish, and oh by the way I mean NOW" pregnancy craving on crack kind of hungry.

Oh yeah, and I was crying, too.

The Husband, Godlovehim, found a place in the middle of nowhere near Lake Texoma that served crawfish.

So whenever I want or make crawfish I find myself pretending that I'm in that kitchen on Lost Oak with my dad, going through the motions we've been going through for years and years.

And now I'm about to cry again. But not in a bad way - in a soul-stirring appreciative kind of way. Because no matter what happens for the rest of eternity I had that time with my dad, and the memories are enough to keep him so close that I can bring him from Houston to Fort Worth just by reliving them in my mind.

Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here....

Hey all!

I was reading Life in the Land of Douglas and the thought occurred to me that I haven't been here lately. So I logged on and lo! and behold, it's been over a year. That posting was about my evil frustrations about breastfeeding and the meltdown I had one night when I refused to feed him. Well... I wound up continuing a couple hours after that meltdown after some rest and I had gotten out all those evil feelings in a really good cry. The Elliot stayed on the breast until he was almost 9 months old, and I made all his baby food until he was graduated to super-chunky food. We attempted jarred baby food, but it made him very upset so we began him on table food a bit early but "The Tank", as we call him, has never looked back. That kid is ridiculous!

So what else? We're just still truckin' along, enjoying our life with our two boys. It's kind of crazy when I stop and think about it: I have two boys. And boy are they boys! Last week they tripped me at least three times as I stupidly attempted to walk across the living room while they were wrestling. They eat enough that I now buy bigger packages of food (meat, especially) and we're eventually getting an additional freezer from The Awesome In-Laws. But we've pretty much gotten the hang of everything, as much as we're ever going to be able to.

The Joey is getting bigger every time I turn around. He's tall and lanky and so Joey. We're continuing to battle with some behavior issues and him "using his brain" both at school and at home. We've wondered if he may have some kind of hyperactivity or attention deficit, but all my research notes that doctors don't like to diagnose until seven. So we'll be fighting the good fight for another year and a half and hopefully we'll get to the bottom of it eventually. The Elliot is walking more and more, which is just amazing. He's 14 months (tomorrow!) and has figured out how to remove the "child-proofing" electrical socket covers. The best I can deduce The Elliot watched me take them out to plug in the vacuum (yes, I clean... sometimes) or my sewing machine (which I use sooooo much more than my vacuum) or whatever; he can do it because he watched me do it! When he watches us do things he really watches. You can see the gears in his big head turning and when he puts them into practice and does something/anything you can see the joy of satisfaction on his face. It's freaking adorable.

I guess that's about it for catching up. I'll attempt to do better. But I have boys.

With a rebel yell

I can graciously accept the fact that I am this close to buttoning my jeans. I know in a few weeks I'll be able to button them, and in a few weeks more I'll be in the gym getting ready for The Elder's wedding and those jeans will be bigger on me.

I can calmly deal with a traffic accident. The Husband lost control in his car yesterday morning and was T-boned on the passenger side. He is totally and completely fine save a scrape and a bruise on his leg. The car, however, is dead. We had to pay the second wrecker to arrive to the accident $140 bucks (nearly cleaning out our bank account) to pry apart the two vehicles. But since he spent the day at home he received an email on his personal account notifying him that his recent job application was denied on the due date and he was able to fix it and verify the application was received and approved for review. I can totally see the good side in that.

But I try throwing a boob and a baby together - arguably the most "natural" thing in the world - and my entire universe becomes unglued. Case in point, this afternoon. I'm alone in the house and trying to feed The Elliot (birth story/pictures/oohing and aahing post to follow when I'm a little less insane) with apparently the flattest nipple to ever exist and he's screaming. I suddenly decide it's not fair that he gets to be the only one to voice some frustration over the situation and I let out this primal, evil, possibly throat-damaging yell and hold it until I'm concerned I'll pop some blood vessels in my eyes. Funny - it worked. He stopped screaming long enough to latch on and finally eat.

But this is not an isolated incident or frustration. I totally want to give in. I'm tired of this - the bad days definitely outweigh the good and I just want my kid to eat well. And don't give me any of the horseshit about pumping; I tried it to relieve engorgement and it's totally not the same thing. I want to do this and am stubborn about getting it right and not giving in to formula. But some days it really feels like all roads lead to Similac.

At this point I'm evil. Yesterday morning after 40 minutes of trying to get him to eat I simply put him back in the bassinet and went downstairs. I cried and refused to feed him for probably another 45 minutes, during which time The Husband thought he was helping by trying to get me talk (to him and really just in general because I was just sitting there crying and looking at the tv that was off) but really just led me to express my dire hatred for him. Luckily he knew I wasn't in my right mind. Last night The Elliot wanted to eat every hour for a period of about 5-6 hours from 8 pm to 1 or 2 in the morning and I was having trouble sleeping anyway due to pure exhaustion and the fact that The Husband was snoring. So I had finally gotten to sleep and The Elliot started. The Husband started snoring louder. And I exploded inside. I don't even remember the things I said, but he left to sleep downstairs. And I was glad. The Elliot finished eating and finally went to sleep and so did I, only to be awoken at 5:30 to take The Husband to work. And the thing is, I wasn't upset about taking him to work that early, waking up the kids to do so. But I bet that if I had already been up and attempting to feed or feeding The Elliot when The Husband needed to go, one of us would have lost a testicle.

Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, but I think I'll miss this one this year

The other night at dinner The Joey asked me "Mommy, why are you a Grinch?" This, because I said what I wanted to watch during dinnertime is "How The Grinch Stole Christmas", but only if we could stop it before Grinchy saved Christmas. It's just a much better ending! So when The Joey asked me why I'm a Grinch I looked over at The Husband and he was looking at me like "I knew someday this was going to catch up to you and you'd have to explain your dislike of the holidays to our children". The best way I knew how to talk to Joey is to tell him how much I love making Christmas special for him, making him cookies and making cookies with him, wrapping presents for him and seeing him open them, making pretty things for the people we love, going to church and saying Happy Birthday to Jesus, spending time with our family and friends, etc. And I made sure to tell him that what I didn't like was all the commercials and stuff the stores try and make you buy, how busy the roads are because people think they need to go out and buy a bunch of stuff, etc.

I don't know if he got it, but he was quiet after that.

It's 2 and a half weeks before The Elliot is supposed to get here! And I have a reason to want to keep him in my belly until the 11th. The Older Sister got engaged last month(whoo-hoo!) and since the entire clan will be in one place for Elliot's birth she and I schemed up a little surprise for our mom. We have an appointment to go look at wedding dresses the day before I'm scheduled to go into the hospital. So if you know Mom and tell her before she gets here I may just have to hunt you down. She's all "this trip is all about A. and The Elliot" and usually I LOVE things to be all about me but after giving birth all I feel is gross and I just want to be alone with The Husband and the new being I spent most of a year making, not handing it over to everyone under the sun. Like my friend once said, "I made it - I get to play with it first!" But I'm so grateful that everyone is coming so I'm going to do what I can to keep myself in check. I think you must have had to have been at The Joey's birth to understand....

A long long time ago (or four and a half years) I was at the hospital bright and early to give birth to The Joey. The Husband, my bestie, my mom, his parents and brother and grandfather were there, but waiting in the waiting room (except The Husband, of course). After The Joey was freed I spent time in Recovery and then was wheeled back to my room. Thank goodness for drugs, because for the next two days there was a steady stream of visitors that I really would have preferred ask us if they could come visit. They didn't come all at once - they staggered their visits so that I had no chance to shower, put makeup on, fix my hair or rest for those two days. I don't in any way doubt the sincerity, generosity (they all brought gifts!) and excitement of their intentions but it is more polite to wait until the new parents go home. I wound up pushing myself really hard to be able to go home and get some peace and quiet.

So we were really happy to be having The Elliot far far away in the land of Fort Worth, where hopefully we could control who would and would not be allowed. My bestie, my parents and brother and sisters, The Husband and The Joey (of course!), and his parents are allowed. Everyone else will just have to wait. And The Husband has promised that he will herd people out when I need to rest or just need to be alone for a few minutes. Thank you Superman!

Speaking of Superman, I totally had a breakdown last night. It suddenly hit me that nothing is ready for The Elliot to get home - we haven't even bought the carseat yet! Our registries at Target and Babies 'R Us are still full of stuff we've yet to get. I kept telling myself that we just needed to finish up Christmas before we could finish buying stuff for the nursery but I only did the math last night that proved how close the dates of Christmas and The Elliot's birthday really are. So while I came unglued The Husband quickly became Superman and we've made some semblance of a plan to finish the nursery in time, carseat and all.

Have no fear Little Elliot, we'll be ready for you yet. Mom promise.