What I Did On My Summer Vacation (At Least Yesterday Anyway)

1. Loaded the kids into the car to go visit with Granny M.
2. Discovered that the car wouldn't start.
3. Unloaded the kids from the car, and back into the house.
4. Made of couple of phone calls, trying to not let the aggravation get the best of me.
5. Got a jump from a lovely family that I haven't kept in contact with since we moved. Shame on me, shame on me, shame on me. Must send them a Thank You gift.
6. Dropped my car off at the local Toyota dealer, explained what's been going on with the car, and left instructions for them to contact my husband with the diagnoses.
7. Got a ride back to my mom's from the lovely family, and found out that their youngest son is entering the seminary at USD this fall. Feel like a great big ass for not keeping in touch with this lovely family, not knowing their big news, and offer many congratulations.
8. Sat around all day waiting to hear about my car.
9. Come evening, finally got a call from my husband, detailing the work needed on the car and what would be done and what would not.
10. Then asked the million dollar question . . . how much is this all going to cost?
11. Still reeling from the news that for around $1,000 I will have my car back in it's usual working order sometime today. Supposedly.
12. So much for my mulitple trips for sushi while I'm here. Looks like it will be more like tuna sandwiches.

On The Edge

Oh, hi. No no, I'm not there. Over here, head west. A little farther. Keep going, keep going, just until you're about to fall off the edge. Yes! Here I am, in sunny southern California. Forgot to mention that before I left. Sorry. There were people I planned on contacting before I left, but obviously never got around to it. So calling all friends/family, if I keep in regular contact or you haven't heard from me in a offensively long time, please forgive me. I'm here and I'd love to get together. Let's make plans, o-kay?

I'm spending a bit of time back in Cali this summer. You see, my mom is leaving for Alaska for a couple of weeks tomorrow, so I thought, why not raid her house and keep my grandma company while she's gone. You see? Two birds, one stone.

Vince drove out with us last Friday, but he's going back to the Lone Star State on Saturday. The kids and I will be hanging out west until sometime in August. So far it's been a true vacation. Sunday we attended mass at our old church. The church where we both went through RCIA. The church where we were married and all our kids were baptised. It truly was "going home". I loved seeing so many familiar faces, and so many people were happy to see us. It was great. Sunday afternoon we met some friends at Old Town for some much missed Mexican food. Stuff like Chile Verde and Pollo Mole, the kind of stuff we haven't found in Tex-Mex Texas restaurants. Monday we headed to the beach, and like true tourists got too much sun. Despite the reapplying of sunscreen. Tuesday was a full day of Sea World adventure. One of my favorite places ever. I'll have to post photos when I get home since I have no way of unloading them at my mom's. I think anyway, I'm going to have to take a closer look at her laptop.

Tomorrow morning we're headed to Vegas for a couple of nights. What better way to celebrate the birth of our nation than with alcohol, gambling, and Nudes on Ice? Happy 4th of July everyone!

A Zoologist I'm Not

So I've had it with the scorpions and the mice, but at least this one wasn't inside the house.


Vince noticed these prints in our yard the other day, and now I'm becoming more and more curious to what type of animal made them. I thought raccoon, but he told me, "no, no, that looks more like a skunk to me". Well, he's the country boy, and I'm the suburb girl, so really, what do I know? Then just today, the kids were told by the builders across the street that they saw a bear, and were trying to capture photographic or video evidence of it. A bear? Here? As our friend Dave would say, "Are you shitting me?" So now I'm wondering if they were just pulling the kids legs or were they serious in their warnings to the children. Either way, there were either two of these animals, or one fairly large animal since the tracks were spaced a good foot and a half away from each other. And Vince did see a bobcat a couple weeks ago, but even I know enough to know these are not feline. And they don't look like bear tracks either. But the claws are freaking me out. For reference, the tracks are about 3 1/2 inches long, and 1 1/2 inches wide. So, anyone willing to venture a guess?

Sunscreen

Who knew it could be used as such a great styling aid?

Stupid, Stupid People

This morning I received an e-mail from a friend, with a link to a news story regarding her niece. In her e-mail, she just stated that she wanted to share some news regarding her niece, but had to rush off to jury duty, so she included this link http://www.kitv.com/news/16626792/detail.html

I hope the link still works, but just in case it doesn't, it is to a local news station in Hawaii where her sister's family lives. The news story tells about how the family went to the beach for a birthday party, where her niece stumbled into some burning coals that someone had covered over with sand, instead of disposing of them properly. Her niece is now in the hospital being treated for second and third degree burns on both her hands, arms, and one leg.

It is criminal. This angers me to no end. The story states that there are disposal receptacles specifically for coals, but for whatever reason, who ever did this, just dumped their coals onto the sand and covered them over.

Stupidity? Laziness? I don't know, but one thing I do. That is what I call a Dumb Ass!

Quiet Time

Possibly my favorite time of day. Right up there with Bed Time, oh and of course Dinner Time. Nothing makes me happier than when 2pm arrives. Sometimes 1pm, depending on the kids behavior that day, but usually 2pm. That means the babies go down for a nap, and Harrison and Sophia have to be doing something quiet. Hence, Quiet Time. Now I will admit that just because the babies are down for a nap doesn't necessarily mean they will go do sleep, but I do not care. They are in their beds for two hours, they can sleep, or they can play, or they can fuss. It is their choice, I'll see them when 4pm rolls around. Quiet Time for me means a chance to get dinner prepped, laundry folded, make some phone calls, or time to just waste on the Internet. But today I have much more relaxing plans. I just finished my delicious lunch of carnitas soft tacos and will be grabbing my current reading selection and heading outside to do a little reading. There is a nice deck chair waiting for me. Granted the deck chair is sitting in the drive way, just outside the garage. Since we don't have a patio, and our yard consists of dirt, the drive way will have to do. But I'm not complaining, the surroundings are still peaceful and relaxing.

Facing East

Facing South

Facing West

So far, I'm really liking the boonies.

The Frozen Meat Mystery

I have always been one to plan our meals, shop the food ads to stock up on sale items, and read cooking magazines just for the pure enjoyment of it. I am a foodie. That is no surprise to anyone, I am sure.

In my latest issue from Cook's Illustrated (the best cooking magazine in my opinion), there was a recipe for Carnitas. I love carnitas, but they can be time consuming and involved to make at home. They are usually something I would just order in a Mexican restaurant. But since I currently live in the boonies, miles and miles away from Southern California, and most Texas Mexican restaurants serve "Tex-Mex", carnitas aren't really even a restaurant option anymore. Hence my being thrilled with a easy to follow, not a huge amount of work involved recipe for carnitas. Thank you Cook's Illustrated.

So lately I've been thinking about carnitas and decided to make them this week since I already had the pork in the freezer, and we bought a butt load of avocados at Costco on Saturday. What could be better than carnitas with homemade guacamole and salsa? Throw in a cold beer or margarita, and it's a reason for celebration.

Last night I pulled out a three pound package of pork shoulder, well wrapped in foil, to defrost. Vince was very pleased to hear that that "big package of frozen meat", was going to be used to make Carnitas. To say I've been looking forward to dinner tonight would be an understatement. I even ran out to the grocery store, with four kids in tow, to be sure we had fresh corn tortillas, and tomatoes, cilantro, and serranos for a fresh batch of salsa.

Imagine my surprise this afternoon when I opened that, "big package of frozen meat", to find out that it wasn't pork shoulder after all, but ground beef. Now, I usually wrap my meat in foil, then seal that package in a freezer bag, label and date it. But this package was so big, it wouldn't even fit in a gallon size freezer bag. I now remember thinking, "Oh, I won't forget what that it, it's too big". Yea, right.

So as I stood there, staring at all three pounds of now defrosted ground beef with my mouth hanging slack, realizing that all my pork shoulder was frozen solid, my taste buds thoroughly disappointed, it occurred to me. Tonight, we are having meatloaf. Nothing better than Old-Fashioned Meatloaf with Mashed Potatoes and Carrots & Peas, right? Throw in a good bottle of red wine, and it's a reason for celebration.

And We Couldn't Be More Proud

Annamaria's language skills have really taken off. I'm not sure if it's because she's turned three, and that is just when children really start speaking well, or maybe if it's because we don't let her walk around with her pacifier in her mouth all the time anymore, so we can actually understand the words that are coming out of her mouth. For whatever reason, it's not just her speaking more clearly, she's speaking in complete sentences, and using new words all the time.

Her newest favorite word it "dumb ass", compliments of her father I'm sure. And while I know I should be horrified and embarrassed, a part of me just wants to giggle when I hear her use that word in her cute little voice, and the other part is proud that she uses it correctly.

The first time I heard her use that word, Harrison was being reprimanded for something, to which she added her two cents by calling him a "dumb ass". She was quickly corrected and told that that isn't nice, and we don't call people names. Regardless of the fact that she was right in assessing the situation, but I didn't tell her that part.

The second time I heard her use this word, she was playing with something that was frustrating her, and she accidentally dropped it. She immediately kicked the object and said, "dumb ass!". Once again I told her to not use that word, but it was so cute I had to stifle my laugh.

Then again, just this morning, Harrison (yes, of course it was Harrison), did something that made her mad. So she called him a. . . wait for it . . . yes, a "dumb ass". Harrison came to me, telling on his little sister for her vile language. I think she knew he was going to tell on her, because she followed him, and immediately after he told on her, she responded by telling him, "Harrison you were mean to me, and I didn't like it, you were acting like a "dumb ass". How could he argue with that? And how could I not be proud of my teeny-tiny for standing up for herself? And so eloquently too.

Just Me and My Thoughts

Last Tuesday I had an MRI done to see what is going on with my back. I'm still waiting for the doctor to call me with the results, so I still don't know what going on, but hopefully will soon enough.

When the imaging center called to schedule my appointment, the woman on the phone asked me if I was claustrophobic. Now I wouldn't define myself as classically claustrophobic, but I do not like the idea of being crammed into tight spaces, especially with something very close to my face. I'm really not even very comfortable in the very back of a minivan, but with the window cracked, I do alright. So the woman offered to set me up with the open MRI, which helped put me a bit at ease about the whole thing. Unfortunately, once I was standing there in my scrubs, bra-less and all, I noticed that the contraption I was about to be loaded into was very much indeed sided. Just a great big metal box with a narrow, very narrow, tubal opening. And it was cold, very cold. But did I say anything? Of course I didn't. I never do. Well, I shouldn't say "never". I have a knack for speaking up when I should keep my mouth shut, but not standing up for myself when I should. What can I say? It's a curse. Then just when I'm being inserted into the narrow, narrow tube, the tech guy says, "If you need to get out, just start yelling and kicking your legs. Oh, and this should take about 20 to 25 minutes". Huh? What happened to the 12 to 15 minutes the woman over the phone told me? Was anything she said to me the truth?

I tried keeping my eyes shut, reciting Hail Marys in my head to pass the time. Freezing, with a thin sheet pulled over me, with poorly placed ear plugs in my ears to help keep out the banging, whooping, grinding noises that contraption made. Finally unable to keep my eyes shut any longer, I had to peek. Just how close was my face to the top? Uh, pretty close. But not so close that I'd loose my cool. But I had to keep peeking, just to make sure it wasn't closing in on me or anything. And the time passed, but I had no idea how much time had passed. Then my brain started wondering what would happen if they just forgot me in there. Would I be able to squiggle out? Would I get stuck? What do they do with large people, because honestly I don't think a lot of Americans would fit in there. I wondered if anyone ever sneezed in there. And how did they clean in there? Then my left hand fell asleep. Oh great. But I was told to keep as still as possible, so I didn't want to move my hand to try to get the feeling back, so I just lied there wondering how much longer could this take. What was going to happen if I didn't get to move my hand soon? Would I be able to not move my hand until this was over, because the desire to move it was starting to overcome my will to stay still. And who ever first came up with the idea of using a magnetic field to take internal images? I was going to have to look that up when I get home. And blah, blah, and some more blah blah blah.

Then it occurred to me, that I would not be a good candidate for one of those sensory deprivation tanks that are supposed to help you relax. All the crap my brain kept coming up with was not relaxing, it was stressing me out.

Oh, and Vince killed another scorpion yesterday. This one was in the garage though, no more in the house since the first. But I have warned the children to shake out their shoes before putting them on though, just in case.

Welcome to the House of Mouse

And spiders, and ants, and scorpions. But I'm not complaining, our builders warned us that when building the house, we drove nature away, and nature would attack back and try to move back in. So it seems they were correct.

As of Monday, May 19Th at 4:10 pm, the house has been officially ours. We were in the rental house, moving out the last of our stuff when we got the news. We decided to stay in the hotel one last night since all our belongings were crammed into the garage since Saturday, and we were hot, sweaty, sore and tired. So Tuesday night was our first night in our new home.

Wednesday morning, Vince woke me up before leaving for work, to let me know he had just killed a mouse in the pantry, so would I please bleach down the shelves. As well as cleaning in the pantry, I also decided to reorganize what I had just moved in, and put only canned and bottled goods on the bottom shelves. Boxed and bagged items would go on top. Thursday morning I awoke to find the label nibbled off a can of beans. Our little dead mouse had friends.

So Vince brought home traps. Friday morning he awoke to find another mouse in one of the traps. Friday night, while lying in bed, we both heard one of the traps go off. Vince got up, disposed of another victim, and reset the trap. There was another body Saturday morning, waiting for it's unceremonious disposal. So far, no more bodies found, but I'm sure they're still in the garage, though the trap in there has remained empty. Maybe they've lost their appetite for peanut butter.

I've seen the odd ant here and there, but yesterday while doing laundry I was collecting clothes for a load of whites, and our whites basket was crawling with ants. I took the bag out to the garage, shook it out, then just left it for the ants to scatter. Then last night when getting into bed I found an ant crawling on my pillow. Vince promised to spray for bugs this weekend.

This morning when I called Vince to say "good morning", which is our usual routine since he gets up at an ungodly hour in the morning in which I refuse to be conscious, he asked me to be sure to keep shoes on every one's feet today. He killed a scorpion in the kitchen this morning. Ugh.

So we're under attack, but we're fighting back. This is our new beautiful home, and we won't be driven out so easily. Who knew, it's not only the old manky houses that have bugs? Welcome home.

Vertical Hurts

Tuesday afternoon I was putting the babies down for their naps, in the hopes of getting much packing done during nap time. Now I call Francesca my "chunk of ham", and it seems she lives up to this pet name. As I was leaning over Francesca's crib to lie her down, my back, well I don't know what my back did. If it was a snap, a crack, or what, but suddenly I was reduced to a hunch back and was unable to stand upright. That pretty much ended my day. The rest was spent with me lying in bed, unable to move. It is now Friday evening, and while I'm no longer crawling on my hands and knees to get to the bathroom, I'm still pretty useless around here.

Good thing Vince planned on taking Wednesday and Thursday off so we could pack everything up, because he needed all the time he could get since he had to do it all on his own. Yes, I feel very very bad about this. I don't know how many times I've thought, especially when the kids are running me ragged, that I'd love to just lie on the couch and do nothing. Well, lying on the couch and doing nothing isn't all it's cracked up to be, especially when there is so much to do.

Tuesday I got a doctor's appointment, and made it to the car and into the office on my own. I was prescribed muscle relaxers, told to take ibuprofen, use heat pads, and lift nothing heavier than eight pounds. That means I can't even pour my kids a cup of milk, since a gallon of milk weighs eight pounds.

So the Father Of The Year award goes to my husband, for not only packing up the entire house, my himself, but also taking care of four children at the same time. Anyone have any stellar Father's Day gift ideas?

As for me, I'm off to take another Skelaxin move into a horizontal position, my back is seizing again.

Oh, and as of tomorrow we will be heading out to the boonies, so I'll be without the freedom of the World Wide Web until the connection in the new house is established sometime late next week. So you all take care now, ya'hear.

One Week!

No, no, I'm not one week pregnant. Let's just not go there, alright?

One week from today, we should be living in our new house. One week from today, we will be signing the papers, waiting for the bank to transfer the funds, and resting our heads on our pillows in our new house. It is finally becoming real to me. Yes I know, I'm a little slow.

In the meantime it's time to pack, pack, pack and eat, eat, eat. I want my freezer cleared out by Friday. Also, the plan was to pack a room a day, but I've tried that plan previously, and failed horribly. So Vince is planning on taking a couple of days off this week so we can just pound it out together.

Everything won't be finalized until Monday, but the builders are letting us move our belongings into the house this weekend, since that is when our friends will be able to help us (us meaning Vince). So for Saturday and Sunday we have reservations at The Worthington in downtown Fort Worth. I love staying in hotels so I'm excited. And a bonus is that Vince's sister works for Marriott, so we got a killer rate. She's saving us like 75%. She will be receiving a "Thank You" gift for sure.

Saturday we went by the house for Vince to drop off some hardwood flooring he purchased, and it was a hot day. It was Texas hot. My car thermometer read 98 F., and that was in the shade. The builder came by to let us in the house since they keep it locked up once the appliances are in, and I was shocked by how cool the house was. We didn't get there until two in the afternoon, and didn't leave until five, and the house was at least twenty degrees cooler inside. Why I find this so amazing is that the house we're renting, even though I close all the windows and shut the blinds early in the morning, once 11:00 a.m. hits the house starts to heat up. And this isn't even on particularly hot days. But the new house stayed cool. Cool with everyone opening and closing the doors to come in and out. Cool even though there is an open plug in the front door where the dead bolt will be installed. Cool without any window coverings at all. Cool even though the house faces East/West. Oh, and the AC unit isn't even on the property yet. Not that it would keep the house cool just sitting there unhooked up anyway, but still, I'm just so impressed. I'm looking forward to much savings in the AC department this summer, because a $600 AC bill is not uncommon here for one months worth of cool comfort.

So this week the house will be a happening place. The propane tank is being installed and the blinds are going in today, the driveway is being poured on Tuesday. Wednesday the mailbox is being build, the AC unit is going in, and the rest of the baseboards are being installed. Thursday the painter is coming back to finish up the painting/staining. Friday the carpet is being installed and the cleaning crew is coming in. I'm sure there is more going on, but I can't remember what. I know the yard is being leveled and topsoil is being brought it, but when I don't know.

So some last photos before the house is cluttered with all our crap. I don't know if I'll get a chance to get any photos after the cleaning, but before the move in.

Entryway with coach lights installed

Coach light close up

Dining room light

Entryway light

Kitchen backsplash

She's Three!

Because of my crappiness as a mom, it is now six days past Annamaria's birthday, and I'm just now getting around to her birthday post. At least it's not as bad as the fact that I also haven't gotten around to getting Francesca's pictures taken in her baptism dress, and she was baptized in November. Of 2006. Um, yea. Hope the dress still fits.

Anyway, this is also going to have to be a quick post, I'm thinking mostly photos, because we have a showing at 12:30, so I have to get this placed cleaned up and get out butts out of here in about an hour. So here goes.

The day before her birthday we were in Costco, and they had these cute little dresses, so I picked one up for her, thinking it could be her birthday dress. Well, she insisted Francesca get one too. O-kay fine, we're running low on nice/church clothes around here anyway. Then when getting dressed birthday morning, I dressed Annamaria, then she picked up the other dress, brought it to Francesca and handed it to her and said, "Happy Birthday Francesca". We call them the twins, but we're only joking. Maybe she doesn't realize that.

Annamaria's birthday started with Mass because our friend's daughter was taking her First Holy Communion, and what a better way to start the day. We then went to said friends house to celebrate with them and hang out with a very nice crowd. Annamaria thought all those people were gathered together to celebrate her birthday and had a great time. The only difficult part was when it was gift time, and we have to explain to her that she had gift waiting for her at home. She was very good about it, and everyone had a great time.

Once home we got out the Pretty Flower Strawberry Cupcakes. Annamaria wanted a strawberry flavored "pretty flower cake", but since we all know how much I'm lacking in the cake making department, she agreed to cupcakes. Yellow cake with strawberry buttercream. For the buttercream I just made regular vanilla, then tossed in some strawberries while the mixing was whipping, and vio-laa, strawberry buttercream. It turned out very good, kind of tasted like strawberry ice cream.

Then is was time for gifts. She loved her Tinkerbell "bla-bloons" that she requested. Big, big hit.

She got a bubble machine from her siblings. Something everyone could enjoy.

Princess tippy cups from Mommy. And a Leapster writing pad from Daddy. He's the big spender. For some reason I don't have a picture of that. Sorry Daddy.

Grandma DeeDee sent her the cutest pink flowered fu-fu outfit, that Annamaria insisted on sleeping in that night. And a sparkly black flapper style dress.

The Angle and the Devil outfits. Annamaria thought the black dress was a shirt for me, so I had to tell her that my spaghetti strapped sparkly top days are over.

Granny M sent her a savings bonds, thank you for thinking of her future, and the cutest counted cross stitch of a Precious Moments kid all dressed up like Annamaria likes to do.

Looks just like her.

Look at those faces, obviously everyone had a great time.

As Promised, New House Photos

Please excuse all the construction crap in the pics . . .

Brick and stone work done. We will eventually have landscaping. Eventually.

Part of the kitchen cabinets after stained, but before the walls were painted. Also before the countertops were put in.

Kitchen island with dusty, dusty granite.

Master bath cabinetry. Again, post staining, pre-painting.

Formal dining with molding up. See slight different between the color on the walls and the white paint on the moulding? Yea, me neither.

Great Big Weepy Psychotic Hormonal Mess

Correction: It has been brought to my attention that in my discombobulated state I got some of the facts wrong on my last post. First of all, Vince did not ask me to wait when I called him from the bathroom for some clean underwear. Wouldn't want anyone to think that cleaning the mattress was more important to him than I am. He states that he brought them to me immediately and that was when we heard the awful rasping/gasping sound. When he pulled me forward to help me gain consciousness is when I stopped breathing. But the part about scaring the sh*t out of him, that part I got correct. Just so you know.

Our day started like any other Sunday. Up at a reasonable time, get the kids and self ready, head off to 10am Mass. We knew we had a showing at 4pm, but got a call for another showing at 1pm on our way back home from Mass. Did I mention our rental house is on the market? Oh, that will have to be a whole other post. I had prepped the ingredients for blueberry scones the night before and thought I'd throw a batch in the oven, get the house quickly picked up for the showing, and we'd be out the door after Mass to head over to Azle to see the new house.

Everything was going as planned, the scones were baked, the kids were munching along happily. I chose a scone for myself, then put it down to head upstairs to make sure everything was nice and cleaned up for the showing. It all went down hill from there. I came back down stairs to find my scone gone. Someone else had eaten it. I'd only gotten maybe four bites, then someone took it for themselves. I'm not naming any names, I'm not even sure who it was, but it didn't matter. It also didn't matter that there were four other untouched, warm, fresh-from-the-oven scones that I could have easily taken to finish. You would have thought by my reaction that someone had just stolen or vandelized one of my most prized possessions. I got hot, a knot in my stomach, a rage in my chest. I actually flashed back to my teenage years, when I remember something so trivial getting me to such a state of rage, and knowing that I was being ridiculous, but not being able to stop myself anyway. This was not an uncommon thing during my teens. Be afraid, be very afraid. So after angering my husband and scaring my children, my anger turned to sadness. A sadness that I couldn't explain. A sadness that stayed with me for the remainder of the day.

We got to Azle and the builders were there on a Sunday, trying to keep on schedule for us as best they could. The cabinets were in, stained and beautiful. That didn't help. The granite was in, and it didn't look too dark like I thought it would. That didn't help either. Most of the lighting fixtures were up. Eh, who cares. Vince commented on the paint, and I didn't even notice that the house had been painted. I choose too light a color for the interior. Anger at myself and big weepy tears. The kitchen sick wasn't the dimensions I asked for, it was too small. Anger at the builders, and more tears. I didn't like the way they changed the laundry room into a laundry area and half bath. More anger, more tears.

We came home and Vince placed a call to the builders to see what could be changed and what I would just have to learn to live with. He was very patient and concerned during my meltdowns. I realize I'm pretty bitchy anyway, but normally nothing like this. I'm sure my hormones are just getting the better of me and I'm going to have to ride them out until I get back to normal.

The highlight of my day was a last minute trip to Target to get some cucumbers and pasta for dinner tonight while Vince put the kids to bed. Before I headed back home I sat in the car in the parking lot and shoved 100 Grand bars and Crunchy Reese Peanut Butter bars down my throat. Not a good day.

After my last post, Vince told me that if there ever was a need for some cuteness, it was that post. So here you go. Updated photos of the house to come soon.

A Compromising Position

Warning: This post is not for the feint of heart or the easily queasy. If you are one of those people, consider yourself warned. If you decide to keep reading, do so at your own risk. I do not want to receive any complaints about how gross you thought my post was, you are an adult, take responsibility for your actions.

My body finally kicked in. Unfortunately it decided to take charge of the situation in the wee wee hours of Wednesday morning. I woke up at 4am in a puddle of my own blood. I'm not exaggerating or I would have written "pool". But it was a big enough puddle, soaked through my PJ's, the sheets, the mattress pad, and even down into the mattress. Ugh. I stumbled off to the bathroom, while Vince woke up and found the mess I left behind. He quickly stripped the bed, got everything into the washing machine, then started tackling the mattress.

Once in the bathroom I couldn't believe the mess. I've given birth four times now, and I've never remembered loosing that much blood. Then the wooziness hit. I felt like I was going to pass out, but being stuck on the potty I couldn't really do much about it. I put my head between my knees as best I could and slowly the buzzing in my ears, and the shaking stopped. I clumsily got as cleaned up as I could then realized I ran out of toilet paper and needed clean underwear and PJ's. I called Vince and asked him to bring me some clean underwear, I'd worry about clean PJ's once out of the bathroom. Vince asked me to wait just a minute, he was working on the mattress, so I just decided to hang out. Honestly, what else could I do, I was stuck.

At this point I'm going by what I was told, Vince said he heard a thump, so he called to ask if I was alright. When I didn't respond he asked again. No response. Now, obviously I'm alive, since I'm sitting here writing this, Vince says he walked to the bathroom door and heard this awful rasping/gasping sound, then nothing at all. I feel I must explain at this point that we don't have an open-door pee policy in our house. If you're using the bathroom, shut the door. Some things are just better left to the imagination, if you feel the need to imagine those things anyway. Vince decided to hell with the closed-door pee policy, opened the door and found me passed out on the potty. Passed out, a bloody mess, and not breathing. He pulled me forward, got my head as low as he could, and I don't think very long passed before I came to. But I came to confused, sobbing, and broken out in an awful sweat.

Now this is why my husband is my hero. First of all, he handled the situation beautifully. He was strong, didn't loose his head, was sympathetic, gentle, patient and loving. After he told me I scared the sh*t out of him of course. And told me not to die on him. Kind of sweet actually. He took the day off work, took care of me and the kids all day, and did it all without one complaint. Honestly, I was useless all of Wednesday. Horizontal and useless. Even now, he checks on me constantly, my state of mind and how I'm doing physically, without the slightest hint of being grossed out, even though he must be, I know I am. Finally, he got the mattress perfectly clean. Can't even tell there was ever anything on it to begin with. He is the Stain Master.

So at this point I have no shame. My husband has witnessed me giving birth to four children, and pooping on the doctor during the third, but he still finds me attractive, amazingly enough. I should be counting my lucky stars. But to be found passed out on the potty? I have achieved a new low, but he still loves me anyway.

Moving On

Thank you for your kind comments, e-mails and phone calls. It's good to know we have friends who are so supportive. My mom even sent a beautiful bouquet of orchids. I'd like to apologize if you called and I didn't pick up the phone. I find that the more I talk about it, the more I cry, but every one's concern is greatly appreciated. Some days are better than others, and I'm still surprised by my reaction to all of this. My body is still doing nothing, which is very frustrating, but I do have a doctors appointment tomorrow. One of the most dreaded doctors appointments I can recall ever having.

The house is coming along quickly. We had more decisions to make this past weekend. The final decisions I'm happy to say. We had to pick the granite for the counter tops and the stain for the cabinetry. The granite picking wasn't too bad. Either we liked it or we didn't, either it was in our budget or it wasn't. Those two criteria narrowed our choices down to just two or three, so not too bad. The cabinetry stain was another matter all together. We were given a stain brochure that had little 1"x1" square photos of oak shown in the various stains. First problem, Vince likes a light or no stain at all, I like a deep rich stain. Polar opposites. Second problem, it's hard to tell anything with a 1"x1" square photo. Third, we don't have oak cabinets, we have alder cabinets. Fourth problem, not all woods stain the same. So after much debate, and a bit of emotional outbursts on my side which were most definitely coming out sideways, Vince asked for some sample pieces of alder stained in four of the colors we were considering. And boy howdy was I glad he did! The darkest stain turned out as light as the lightest stain, I thought they had labeled the samples wrong. But no, just proof that different woods take stain differently. So after being appalled that we were asked to pick our stain from a tiny brochure picture with examples of a completely different species of wood, we finally came to a decision. And I am happy to say that should be the end of our decision making for the time being.

So on to some photos . . .

We have walls! All textured and waiting for paint.

I went by the house yesterday, but forgot the camera, so there has been even more progress made, but these photos are from last weekend. As of yesterday we also have baseboards, interior doors, cabinetry, and the fireplace is bricked/stoned.

And some much needed cuteness . . .

Francesca found the infant sunglasses I had bought when Annamaria was a baby. They're way too small, even for her tiny pea head, but she thinks they make her look cool anyway.

Don't Know What You've Got Until It's Gone

Thursday afternoon I had an appointment at the OB's office for my routine monthly checkup at 10 weeks 3 days. My doctor had to do a sonogram to find the baby's heartbeat since it was still kind of early to pick it up on the Doppler. I knew something was wrong during the sonogram because it took way to long, and neither the doctor or the nurse said a thing. Again, I knew something was wrong, but didn't want to say anything in case I was just being over reactive. My doctor turned off the machine, the nurse gave me a quick smile then turned on her heels and left the room. Then my doctor looked up at me and said he was sorry, but there wasn't any heartbeat. What was I supposed to say to this? I told him I thought something was wrong since he was taking so long and no one was saying anything, he responded that he liked to be sure in a cases like this. He said there wasn't any heartbeat, the baby was only measuring at nine weeks, and it looked like the sac was starting to pull away from the uterine wall. I had no spotting, no cramping, and after four textbook easy, complication free pregnancies this was really the last thing I was expecting. I was able to keep it pretty much together in the office and didn't totally loose it until I was in the car on the way back home.

I knew Vince would be upset. He was the one who was so happy and excited about this baby. I was never able to move past uncomfortable and trepidation, so my emotional reaction to all this has surprised me. My brain knows that these things are quite common, and that there isn't anything I did wrong. But a part of me feels like God knew I was nervous about a fifth baby at this point, and maybe he said, "What you don't want him/her? Fine, I'll take him/her back". Again, my brain knows this isn't right, but it's a hard feeling to shake. I'm also surprised at how strongly I can mourn over the loss of a baby that I never got to hold, never got to see, and never realized how much I already loved. Vince says he wonders how he can miss someone so much that he never even knew.

Since the baby is still hanging in there, and my body hasn't kicked in yet, I have another OB appointment next week. The doctor said he could prescribe something that would cause my uterus to contract and possibly move things along or he could do a D&C. I'm not comfortable with either option, so we're in the wait and see period. I asked how long we could wait before taking more aggressive action if my body never does kick in, and he said they could wait up to four weeks. So the physical part of this may be all over with quickly, or it could be pretty drawn out. The emotional part of this? Who knows.

I'm sure there is a lesson in all this, and all things happen for a reason, but at this point I failing to see what that is.

We Have Brick!

And a picture of somebody's butt! How exciting. I'm headed over to Azle tomorrow to get Sophia started on her orthodontic work, and the office is about five minutes from the new house, so I'm sure we'll be driving by to see how the progress is going. We were hoping to be at this point last weekend but the window delivery was delayed. And you can't brick until the windows are in, hence the delay in the brick and stone work. Also, apparently you can't dry wall until the windows are in, so last Saturday when we went by the dry wall was stacked all about the house.

Now the windows were in at this point (see above pic), but the owner of the dry wall company took his son to Vegas for his 21st birthday, so all his workers decided to take advantage of his absence and decided not to show for work on Saturday either. I can't really blame them, it was a very nice day.

Decisions Decisions

Now I'm not complaining, even though it may sound like it, because it's really very exciting to even have all these options. But I'm not a good decision maker, I think I'd rather just put off making the decision versus making the wrong decision. I question myself constantly. I knew we were going to have a lot of decisions to make regarding the house, but it seems they're mostly getting dumped on us at once, and it's a bit overwhelming. And remember, being pregnant, I probably shouldn't be making any major decisions anyway what with all the hormones running amok. Luckily I have Vince to keep me grounded, and not get too crazy. And also luckily, we either pretty much agree on things, or about certain things he just doesn't care enough to argue.

About a month ago we had to pick the brick and stone for the exterior for the house. That was really hard. It's not like a paint color that I could simply paint over if I decided I didn't like it. We're talking about a major permanent decision. Or very costly to change anyway. But we got past that one, and honestly it wasn't too painful. After looking and looking and looking at houses in our development, houses in our rental development, random houses as we drove by going to or from whatever it was we were going to or from and not really finding anything we were crazy about, we pulled into our builders spec house to meet with them, looked at the brick they had on that house and both decided we wanted ours to be just like that. All that agonizing for nothing. Vince liked the stone they had chosen too, but I thought it was too yellow and wanted Austin stone, a creamy white stone. He went along with my preference, maybe just to keep the peace or maybe just so we could get on with life, I don't know, but we were finally able check off that decision.

Then, a couple of weekends ago we picked the carpet for the bedrooms, and the hard flooring for the rest of the house. Vince hates carpet, and since we're only having it put in the bedrooms, I pretty much had free reign on that choice. We're having the builders put vinyl flooring through the rest of the living space, and Vince will be putting in hardwood flooring as time and costs allow on his own once we're moved in. That decision saved us $12K, so I can live with vinyl for now. That was one more decision made.

Last Monday we drove into Fort Worth under threats of severe thunderstorms to pick the appliances for the kitchen. Of course I went over budget, we all knew that I would. But we were happy to find out that we were able to get Jen Air appliances for less than the Kitchen Aid appliances that I had back in California. Double convection wall ovens - check. Six burner professional cook top - check. Stainless ceiling hood - check. So that was pretty much a no brainer. Except for the dishwasher. Go with the Jen Air dishwasher so the handle would match the ovens, or save $250 and go with a GE dishwasher with all the same applications, but the handle didn't match. They're all made by Whirlpool anyway. At first I went with the GE, feeling guilty about going over the budget. Vince wasn't too sure of my decision, but it's my kitchen so he wasn't going to argue. No surprise to him when I changed my mind four days later and told him I wanted to go with the Jen Air dishwasher. He made the call, and changed the order. We already have a refrigerator and microwave, so some of the appliances will match, and others won't. But why spend the money on a refrigerator and microwave when you already have one? Maybe for the rich, but not for us.

After leaving the appliance store we headed to Arlington to go pick lighting fixtures for the house. I had no idea how many lighting fixtures we would have to decide on. So many, that we had to go back on Saturday and finish up because we ran out of time. Luckily the thunderstorm really hit while we were in the store, and by time we left it had moved on. So, how many lights did we want in our garage? What about the carriage lights? Two by the garage and two by the front door. What about the light that hangs in the exterior entryway by the front door? And the interior entryway light? The formal dining light? The dining lights in the kitchen? The living room, ceiling fan or just a light? The stairway sconces? The master hall sconces? The bedrooms lights? Again, ceiling fans or just lights. The bedroom hallway lights? The fixtures for the bathrooms, the powder room, and the tiny little room that the master toilet is in? What about the master closet? What about the doorbell? The doorbell! I thought she was kidding, but no, we got to pick what our doorbell looked like and what the chime box looked like. No, we did not pick the Texas star doorbell. By the way, we just picked the simple "I don't even want to see it" chime box. But did you know you can spend upwards of $100 on the box for your doorbell chimes? Ridiculous. My head was reeling. The styles, the sizes, the finishes. Thankfully they had a little area set up for the kids with a TV/VCR, videos, coloring books and crayons. The kids were amazingly well behaved. I'm supposed to get a call today to see how we did on our lighting budget. After we made our choices on Monday we were up to $1,400, half of our lighting budget. I don't think we had $1,400 left worth on choices for Saturday, so I'm anxious to see how we did. I'm hoping we came in pretty well under budget to help make up for my kitchen over expenditures.

Tuesday we had to drive to Weatherford to the cabinet makers. Again, style choices, wood choices. Vince likes really rustic knotty wood like hickory. I like smooth sleek low grain wood like cherry. But I was determined to keep within our budget, so we went with a knotty alder in a fairly simple style with a rope detail on the corners. We don't pick a stain color until we meet with the painter and choose the interior house color as well. The cabinet maker said the amount of knotting in the wood varies, and would use wood with a low amount of knots for me. So some character, but not too much. I'm just not a rustic kind of gal but since I will be living out in the boonies I figured a little was alright.

So I think all we have left to choose is the cabinet stain, the interior paint color, and the granite for the counter tops. I don't think I'll be able to choose the cabinet stain or the granite until I know what the other will look like. I hope everyone involved is patient, because my brain hurts.

And just to throw in one more gut wrenching decision, Vince wants to know what we're going to call this baby if it's a girl. We've had a boy's name picked since we had Annamaria, and for some reason he's very anxious to get a name out of me, but I just don't work that way. I like to have it narrowed down, then wait until I meet the baby. How do you name someone you've never met before? Vince picks the boy's names, so I can just go with that, but after three girls it's becoming harder and harder to find a name that I feel good about.

Again, not complaining, I'm just saying.