Karma. She's A Bitch, Ya Know

I am a firm believer in the "do unto others" rule.  I spent my early marriage days drilling that into my husband's head, who was brought up believing "do whatever gets you what you want". 

I find comfort in knowing that both Bob (that's what we call Junior these days...long story) and I have lived most of our married life this way.  We treat the people we love with respect.  We do things for them, without expecting anything in return.  That was how I was raised.  This is how we are raising our kids.  Good deeds don't come with a price tag, or expectations of anything in return.

So, as you live your life, remember that if you treat the people around you like crap, in the end, you end up all alone, with only your dirty diapers keeping you company. 

And that just might be exactly what you deserve.

Sometimes

Sometimes, the things you think you buried have a way of rising up again. 

Sometimes, the things you thought you protected yourself from can come up and bite you on the ass while you're not even looking.

Sometimes, an innocent question from a friend can change your world in an instant.

Sometimes, even I don't know how to offer the comfort needed.

Sometimes, choosing to be alone is not the right answer.

Sometimes, it's better to let it all go, and move on.

Sometimes, I wish I could magically take away all the pain, and give my husband the childhood he deserved, instead of the one he had to live through.

And then there are days, like today, where I am proud to be married to such a strong, wonderful man, who can overcome all the hate and abuse, and be the better person.

Tomorrow....

...is Ryan's 15th birthday.  I seriously can not believe it has been so many years since they place my sweet boy in my arms and I became a mother.  That's all I ever really wanted to be, and I am so glad that God no only blessed me with him, but with his sisters as well.  I remember when I found out I was pregnant with him...I so hoped that he would be a girl.  I never imagined I'd have a son.  Whenever I thought of having kids when I was younger, I just assumed I would have daughters.  I am so glad that God knew better than me and He gave me Ryan.

I can not describe my love for him...it's different than my love for my girls, if that makes any sense.  I love that he teases me...and that I now have to look up to look him in the eyes.  Seriously, he's a good five inches taller than me now.  When did THAT happen?  I love that he wants to do everything with his dad, and learn everything his dad knows.  They are seriously stuck together like glue, and I love that.  I know a lot of 15 year old boys who want nothing to do with their parents.  I love that he talks to me about everything, even the stuff I don't want to know about.  He knows I'm his friend, but he also respects me as his mother.  And I think that is important. 

I was in labor with him for 36 hours before they finally cut him out of me.  He was also 12 days late.  I guess if he had his way, he'd still be in there, because he sure as heck didn't want to come out.  I was so tired when they finally did the section (he was born at 8:21 pm) that I don't remember holding him until the next morning.  They say I did hold him, and that I asked for him to be taken away because I was afraid I would drop him.  I don't remember any of that.  I do remember, though, that next morning when they finally brought him to me, that he was the most beautiful baby in the world.  He weighed 8lbs 13oz at birth, and the nurses all called him monkey.  I never knew I could love someone as much as I loved that baby at that moment.  Sure, I love my husband, but I think a mother's love is more protective and primal, if that makes any sense.

Anyway, tomorrow, my baby is one year closer to being a man.  If the past 15 years are any indication, he's going to be a wonderful man.  Any girl will be lucky to have him.

That is, if they can get to him through me.  After all, I am his mother.

So, I

So, I just walked into the kitchen to refill my drink, and I heard something in the drawer under my stove.  I knew it was a mouse.  There wasn't a doubt in my mind.

So, I woke up Junior, and he walks over and opens the drawer.  Sure enough, there was a mouse, and that sucker ran!  I am not sure where it is now, but I am in no way going to bed any time soon.  I'm too creeped out.  I am not necessarily afraid of mice...I just don't want them in my house, crawling on me while I'm sleeping.

So, yeah, I screamed like the little girl I am when that sucker showed it's face.  This is why I love cats.  This is the first place we have lived where we can't have cats, so we have mice.  I am also rethinking the no kill traps.  I think that little guy needs to die.

So, I am sitting here eating Halloween candy.  I know I shouldn't be, but the kids went out Saturday night and Sunday night, and there is a crap load of candy in my house right now.  And I have no willpower.

So I eat.

I went online yesterday trying to find a exercise video game for the wii.  Every single game I found needs the balance board, which I do not have.  I don't have the money to buy it right now, either.  And my sister tagged me in a photo on FB from my niece's birthday party, and I look fat.  Really fat.  And I hate it.  My face is so fat.  At least when I take a picture of myself, I know how to tilt my head to make my chin look like there is only one.  In candid shots, I always have a very fat face.  Check it out:

That's my brother and another of my nieces in the picture.  I look like a whale, and I hate it.  Yet, here I sit eating laffy taffy...only the banana.  Like that makes a difference.

So, I think I'm going to go play some games on FB...I really need to relax a little if I plan on sleeping tonight.