Halloween Decorations

So over the weekend I decided that it was time to get the Halloween decorations out.

Granted, we don't have a lot. I wish I could put stuff on the outside of the house--like a scarecrow, pumpkins, things like that. But the harsh Wyoming Winds would blow them away.

I know this because I had this adorable Christmas stake outside last year. I figured if I got it into the ground enough that it would be okay.

Nope.

The wind snapped it in half and I was crushed.

"MY STAKE!" I shrieked when I saw the remnants in our yard.

"I told you not to put that outside," Tom gloated.

So all the decorations have to remain inside. Well, minus our doormat which so far has been okay from the winds.

First I decorated the table:



With Halloween napkins to boot!

And our door:



Here's the Haunted House that Tom just had to have last year. It lights up and makes noises and everything:



And our doormat:



There are some other things sprinkled around the house too.

Tommy was excited to see everything out.

"Is it Halloween tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

I explained that he still had a few weeks.

So anyhow, this morning I went to Target. No reason, really. Just because Target rocks and all.

Actually I did need something. Deoderant as I'm running dangerously low. I suppose if worse came to worse I could put Tom's Old Spice on but I'd rather not smell like a dude if it's all the same.

So off to Target Natalie and I went.

Our first stop was the Dollar Spot.

Okay fine, I admit it, I bribe my daughter. When we first enter the store she gets to pick out a $1.00 toy. I figure I can fork out a buck for my sanity. And yes, Supernanny Jo Frost would probably gasp and wag her finger at me and be all, "Am-bah! You mustn't bribe children. They are supposed to behave because they know it's the proper way to act. Shame on you."

And then I'd hang my head and mutter that I was sorry and Jo would say all importantly, "Don't say sorry to me. Say sorry to your children for bribing them."

But of course when I did apologize to them they'd be all, "Um? Why are you apologizing for GIVING US STUFF??!!"

Sorry Jo Frost. But Natalie will continue to get a Dollar Spot toy.

For my sanity.

Natalie picked out a creepy looking plush toy and deemed it her "bebe."

(Even though I tried in vain to get her to want the Jim from The Office stress ball head. Mmm Jim. Such a nice man to look at. But she was not interested. She wanted the creepy looking plush toy.)

Of course then she bit his head.

Or her? It was pink. I dunno.

Then we headed on our way. I did find a helmet for 75% off for Tommy. He always needs helmets. The boy is rough.

I also found some bathroom stuff for 75% off. I bought two tissue holders for like two bucks each. And a new shower curtain for our bathroom because ours is cheap. And vinyl. *Shudders* And this shower curtain was originally twenty something bucks (who would pay twenty something bucks for a SHOWER CURTAIN??) and I got it for six.

Love Target. Love their deals.

Of course I nearly forgot to pick up the one thing that I came into Target for.

The deoderant.

I was heading for checkout and then I remember, hello, the deoderant! Remember, you don't want to smell like a dude!

So I turned the cart around and headed for the deoderant aisle.

And was immediately confused.

There are so many different deoderants.

Look, the only thing I want is not to reek like BO.

I don't need to smell like a peach. Or a flower. Or...apple citrus? Huh? What?

I decided to go with Secret Deoderant because that's what I've been using for years.

But Secret is confusing.

They have deoderants called Scent Expressions.

With scents such as English Bloom, French Lavender, Brazilian Cherry, Artic Apple, Vanilla Chai..

Huh?

Just HUH?

I stared dumbly at all the deoderants and then decided I better get to smelling.

So I'd open one.

Sniff.

Open another.

Sniff.

After awhile my nose was beginning to grow annoyed.

Just pick out the damn deoderant! I'm tired of breathing in shit!

Oh.

Sorry.

I decided on French Lavender. Probably because I'm reading a book called The Other Queen and it spoke of lavender scented sheets. I have lavender embedded in my head. And isn't lavender supposed to be a stress releaser? So maybe if I have it under my pits I'll be less stressed...

Then I went to check out which was right in time because Natalie was starting to get impatient.

Later today I have to go to Tommy's yearly IEP meeting. It's always a little nervewracking to walk into a room stuffed with teachers at first. Including the principal usually. Sometimes. If she's available.

I hope Natalie behaves. I have to take her with me because even though it's Tom's day off, he has to go into the office to help a troop with paperwork.

*Le sigh*

Ahh well.

Natalie does look adorable today at least:

Parent Information Night

Just an FYI: The new show The Mentalist is really good.

I caught it last night and enjoyed it.

Anyhow I keep forgetting to write about Parent Information Night at the school last week.

I decided to go even though Tom worked. Of course. He never seems to be off on the nights that I really need him.

So we drove to the school and when we walked in both the Girl Scouts and Cub Scouts were set up recruiting new members. I held my breath as Tommy walked past.

Please don't be interested...

I mean I think Cub Scouts are a good thing but it would mean I'd have to CONVERSE with other people on a weekly basis and SELL crap. No thank you.

I have always said that if Tommy wanted to join that I'd let him.

But thankfully he's not interested.

Phew.

There was a room set up to drop off the children so the parents could sit through the assembly in peace.

I thought it was just for children three and up but when I entered two of the volunteers to watch the kids came up and held out their arms for Natalie.

"Oh," I said, startled. "I thought this was just for older kids?"

"We'll take the baby. She's so cute!" one of the women said. Her arms were still outstretched. Natalie dug her fingernails into my shoulder and looked away.

I'm not going with you, Crazy Stranger Lady!

"Well," I said in what I hoped was a polite tone. "I don't think she's going to let me leave her."

I tried to set her down but she had such a grip on my shirt that I felt if I pushed it, she'd expose my ugly nursing bra to the entire room. So I put her back on my hip.

At that moment another woman with a baby around Natalie's age walked in. She just easily set the baby down, the baby toddled over to a bunch of blocks, the woman said thank you and left.

And the baby didn't even CARE! She just continued playing with the blocks.

Maybe she was a daycare baby? I dunno.

I pointed that baby out to Natalie. SHE didn't have to know that she was a daycare baby and was used to being without her mother.

"Look Natalie? Another baby. She's playing with blocks. Do you want to play with blocks?"

Natalie actually looked mildly interested. In fact she allowed me to set her down. Though she held onto my fingers to the point where I felt like she'd cut off circulation. Then she all of a sudden got brave, ran up to the other baby, whispered HI and then ran back to me. She gripped onto my leg roughly.

"Natalie doesn't like you," Tommy told the volunteers seriously. "She's gonna cry if Mommy goes."

I shot Tommy a Look. "Tommy," I chastised. "She likes them fine. She's just not used to Mommy leaving."

"She's gonna CRY," Tommy repeated knowingly.

I tried to walk but couldn't because Natalie seemed to be permanently attached to my leg.

"Um," I said. "I think I'll just take her with me."

I started to turn and head for the door with her still holding on for dear life.

But she let me go and ran up to a teenage volunteer who was helping the adults with all the kids.

"Hi," Natalie said boldly and then went off to explore the room.

"I think you're safe," one of the adult volunteers whispered. "Go ahead. If she cries we'll come get you."

I nodded and rushed out. I waited by the door for a few seconds to make sure I didn't hear Natalie's cries.

I didn't.

However there was a Mom who tried to drop off her little boy who looked to be about three and he wasn't having it.

"I WON'T go in this room. I WON'T. AND YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!"

Sheesh.

Needless to say, that little boy went to the assembly with his mother.

I decided that I ought to head down to find a seat. I sat down by the door in case they came in with Natalie.

A few kids did have to be returned to their parents. One little boy was crying so hard that he seemed to be struggling to breathe.

"I. Want. My. Mooommm...Moooooooommmmeeeeeee!"

Basically the assembly went over what the school expected from the parents and what the parents could expect from the school.

The principal was giving the speech and she was talking about how the children needed to learn respect. She had a little slide show going nad when a picture of a toilet popped up on the screen I let out a snort of laughter.

"The children need to learn respect in the bathrooms as well. We sometimes have kids that like to peak under the stalls and that just won't be tolerated," the principal said.

I giggle escaped my lips. I pictured tiny students squatting down and looking up under the stall going, "Hello? Are you making a number one or a number two.."

For some reason I found this hilarious and had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing even louder.

Yes folks, I am 26.

But apparently potty talk still amuses me.

Then the principal talked about joining the PTO.

No thank you.

Just...

No thank you.

I know some people are all, "Aww why not join?"

Uh. Because I know it can turn into a big drama fest with grown adults whining over tiny things and I don't have the patience for it. I deal with a husband and two kids at home and that's quite enough drama for me.

After the assembly was over we were told to head to our child's classroom to learn about what the teachers expected from us.

I walked past the childcare room and Natalie was in the teenager's arms staring right out while sucking her thumb.

So she saw me and immediately outstretched her arms.

So I had to get her.

I asked Tommy if he wanted to come or stay and he said he wanted to come.

So down to his classroom we went. He found his seat and showed me his pencil box with all his stuff inside.

"These are my crayons. My pencils. My eraser," he said seriously.

"They're awesome," I said, feigning like I had never seen them before in my life. (Even though it was me who purchased all of those items. But whatevs.)

The teacher started talking about homework and tests and things like that. I was somewhat distracted because Natalie did not want to sit on my lap. She kept struggling to break free so she could explore the room. I mean in all fairness, it was an appealing room for a small child. It was brightly lit with cute little decals on the wall and interesting books in the corner.

I started digging in my purse while the teacher explained that homework was due on Thursday.

"Here. Mommy's phone," I hissed at Natalie, placing the cell phone in her palm.

She opened it and pressed buttons. "A cat? A CAT?" she said loudly, pointing to my display picture.

"Shhh. Yes a cat," I said softly, hoping she'd take notice of my QUIET voice and follow suit.

Then she got bored of the phone and tried to break away.

"Here. Mommy's keys," I hissed and handed them to her.

She found the DisneyWorld keychain and stared at the castle.

"What IS that? What IS that?" she said.

"A castle," I whispered.

Then she got bored of the keys and I had to find something else.

"Here. A coupon. Fifty cents off Tide. Don't lose that. Mommy needs it," I said, passing it over.

Natalie flipped the paper around her fingers. But then grew bored of that and tried to break free. Again.

*Le sigh*

Thankfully the teacher was finished at that point so we could go. I did ask the teacher if Tommy had been doing well.

And he is!

No crying.

Phew.

When that was over we stopped in the Book Fair. The plan was to get two books. One on Transformers and one on plants.

Well that changed.

We ended up with these:



Natalie picked out that pink book. Seriously. I was looking at another book and she reached out and grabbed it and would not let go.

And then when that was over we went home.

You know that Monster Truck book? You had to put together this Monster Truck and it was a PAIN in my ASS. I nearly threw it across the room. Sometimes boy toys seriously upset me.

My Different Children

You know, it really is marveling that two children who came from uterus are completely different.

For some reason I had it in my head that Natalie would be like a carbon copy of Tommy. Which meant that she'd be an easy going baby who would sleep wherever I placed her.

Hah.

A big hah.

For starters, Natalie would not allow anyone to put her down when she was a newborn.

If you tried to put her down, even if she was in a deep sleep, her eyes would suddenly snap open and she'd scream in horror.

And what did my boy Tommy do?

Oh, he'd happily sleep in his crib right from the start. Only cried when he wanted something.

"You know your second baby won't be like that," everyone warned me.

I didn't believe them.

I remember worrying constantly over Tommy. I mean I was 19 when I had him, I didn't quite know what I was doing. And then when he turned two and he was barely saying a word I was in a sheer panic. I had assumed it was something that I had done wrong. Should I have read to him more? Talked to him more? Brought him to museums?

The speech therapist started coming to the house when he was two.

"It's best to start when they're small," I was told.

I agreed.

And the speech therapist would try in vain to get Tommy to speak. One word she was really working on?

More.

She taught him how to sign more and she kept trying to get him to say it.

"Tommy," she'd say as I sat on the floor beside her. "Say more. MOOOORREEEE." She stretched out the letters and pointed to her mouth as she said it. Then she did the sign for more. "More," she repeated, also signing it.

And because I felt awkward just sitting there, I also signed the word more and said the word.

Tommy stared at us as though we were complete idiots.

She'd bring out books and would try to get him to identify what was in it.

"Look Tommy. A cat. CAAAATTTT," the speech therpist would go.

And Tommy, well, he'd grow bored and run off to his toys.

"Maybe there is something else going on with him," the speech therapist finally said during one session when Tommy darted off and staring running laps around us while flapping his hands.

Something else?

I had stared her her dumbly.

I mean I just thought he was speech delayed. I didn't think it was SOMETHING ELSE.

Of course I typed in speech delays in the search engines.

And was horrified with what popped up.

Verbal apraxia.

Autism.

Mental Retardation.

I joined various online groups for people who had children with speech delays.

I felt better knowing I wasn't alone.

But a lot of those children got better. They started speaking normally at the age of three or four while my son struggled to put words together.

I had him tested for autism.

He doesn't have it, the doctor said. He's too social.

I was at a loss. He was able to start preschool at three.

I received a lot of phone calls.

Tommy won't sit still during circle time. His speech is below average. Really below.

Mrs. M****? Tommy still won't sit during circle time. In fact today he started dancing on a chair...

Fast forward to Kindergarten. Still speech delayed. But better. I stupidly thought that the worst was behind me.

Nope.

Then the phone calls began again.

Mrs. M****? Is something happening at home? Because Tommy won't stop crying..

And meeting after meeting.

Because of his crying he would go to the principal's office if he got worked up.

A five year old already in the principal's office.

Then they suggested that he only go to school for a half day.

"Perhaps all day is too much for him," the teachers said gently.

Then they said he could try a full day but he'd go in the resource room most of the time.

It's a smaller environment. I think it's too much for him to handle being in a room with 21 other students...

But good news popped in through the cracks.

Tommy is actually understanding how to handle time better than my first graders. He sits in while I teach first graders sometimes and he's getting it...

Tommy is my favorite little boy ever. He loves to learn.

Of course more not so good news sprinkled in.

I tested Tommy for autism and it shows that he's most likely to have it. Obviously this isn't an official diagnosis but from everything I've gathered it looks to be like he has it...he shows a lot of mannerisms..

Mercifully he passed Kindergarten. To be honest I wasn't expecting it. I cringed when I saw his report card in his backpack. I pulled it out, taking deep breaths.

Don't cry if it shows that he hasn't moved on to first grade..

I pulled the papers from the envelope and flipped through the back. Where it showed the grade that he'd attend next year.

First Grade it said in bold dark letters.

He passed.

I looked through the other pages. He was average in almost everything except for speech obviously. And following directions. And managing feelings.

So far, Tommy is doing well in first grade. Though he tells me that it's hard and sometimes he can't get his brain to work right.

I ask him sometimes what it was like when he was little and he couldn't talk.

And Tommy told me, "Remember when I needed to say more? MOOOREEEE!!," Tommy said, stretching his mouth out like the speech therapist had done years before.

I remember when he finally had said the word.

I think it was a few months after the speech therapist started coming?

He just all of a sudden came over to me and signed more.

"MORE!" I shrieked. "MORE! You DID it!" And I gathered him in my arms while he laughed and muttered, "Moreeeee.."

Tommy is still behind in his speech. But he's getting there. He'll probably always be awkward and it worries me because children are cruel. He struggles to catch a ball--just the other day some kids were outside playing basketball and allowed him to join. But when someone tossed him the ball he dropped it and it went thunking down the street.

"I can't DO it!" I heard him shriek.

So I tell him every day that he CAN do anything that he wants. That he just has to try.

And what about Natalie?

Well, she started saying the word more when she turned a year old.

It made me smile because I remember how hard we tried to get Tommy to say the word.

And here was this one-year-old who said it effortlessly while pointing to the chocolate I was eating.

"MOREEE! MORE!" she said firmly.

Do I think Natalie will have a speech delay? She could.

But right now she seems to be right on schedule.

And just this morning she told me, "Ball? Ball? Come.." because she wanted me to follow her and get her ball which she had tossed in the catbox.

(Eww. Thank goodness I had just cleaned it.)

In a way I'm glad that Tommy struggled. As silly as it sounds. Because it helped me appreciate things more.

If Tommy had talked on schedule then I doubt I'd have marveled over the fact that Natalie said more so easily.

Or I don't think I'd have teared up when Natalie instructs me to do things.

So I'm grateful that I have two very different children.

I have a boy who can follow instructions on how to build a Lego car. While I still can't comprehend how to do it:



And I have a girl, who isn't afraid to tell me what she wants:



----

I do have the Puppy Chow recipe. I've no idea why it's called Puppy Chow. Jennifer introduced me to it and called it Puppy Chow so that's what I call it.

INGREDIENTS
1/2 cup butter
1 cup creamy peanut butter
2 cups milk chocolate chips
1 (17.5 ounce) package crispy corn or rice cereal
1 pound powdered sugar

DIRECTIONS

1. Melt peanut butter with butter and chocolate chips over stovetop. Lay out cereal on cookie sheet. Pour chocolate mixture over cereal and mix. (You will get dirty.)

2. Place coated cereal in a large plastic bag and add the powdered sugar. Close bag and then shake to coat.

Delicious! But warning, it's addicting.

Puppy Chow Goodness

My weekend was incredibly boring. I flipped through the television channels and thought the same thing:

Just how many times is E! going to air Ever After?

And

How many times is MTV going to show America's Next Top Model?

I also thought,

Holy crap these children have a lot of clothes. I think I need to go on a clothing break for awhile.

So I'm going to not buy clothes until Gymbuck Redemption.

And okay, Gymbuck Redemption is next week but still. Can I do it? Even though Gap has some ultra cute clothes? And oh oh, look at that precious dress on the Gymboree website! Natalie would look PRECIOUS in it.

No.

No Amber.

So I removed my entire eBay watch list. Four pages full. Of course I don't WIN all of those. No, most of the time I delete if the price goes too high. Or if someone outbids me at the last minute and then I shoot the winning bidder the finger in front of the monitor and may or may not mutter, "Well f*ck YOU last second bidder!"

I told Tom that I was on a break.

(Which totally reminded me of Friends and I pictured Ross screaming, "WE WERE ON A BREAAAAAAAKKK!!!" Tee hee.)

"From what?" he asked, eyes glued to the television screen.

Of course he was watching another WW2 program. They make a lot of those. In black and white. In color. In black and white AND color. The narrator drones on about P-32s and B-17s and Hitler and an hour program can feel like three hours.

"From buying the kids clothes," I replied.

I thought he'd be impressed. I mean wasn't he the one whose jaw dropped open slightly when he peeked into Natalie's closet and asked how many little girls I thought we HAD since surely Natalie wouldn't get to all those things before outgrowing them...

Instead he just gave a non-commital, "Mmmm" sound.

Remind me to make that same sound when he asks for sex. See how HE likes it.

"I'm serious," I told Tom firmly, moving in front of the television screen. He gave a small sigh and raised his eyes up to the Heavens. "No clothes shopping for Amber. I'm done. Well, until next week."

Tom snorted. "Wow. Go Amber," he said sarcastically.

"Hey," I retorted. "That's probably a RECORD for me, Tom."

"Okay," Tom said with a shrug. He craned his neck around me which signaled that the conversation was through.

Rude.

But I can do it.

Today I need to drop off an ad for Natalie's exersaucer. I'm selling it even though it will be difficult. I grow attached to things, you see. There's already one toy that I realized that I cannot sell. That Leap Frog Activity Table? It was Tommy's as a baby. Now Natalie plays with it. And I just can't see myself selling it when she outgrows it. I've no idea why.

Tom was all, "Amber, it's just a hunk of plastic that makes annoying sounds!"

No it's not. It's a toy my little boy played with. And now Natalie. Well, she really just likes climbing on it and standing up and saying, "Hi" Then she'll start to whimper as one of the toys on top digs into her feet and will begin to freak out and make it seem like it was YOUR FAULT that she got hurt in the first place even though you've told her A BILLION TIMES not to climb on top.

I also need to stop eating the Puppy Chow that I made last night to distract me from the new line that was popping up on Gymboree.com.

Puppy Chow is a delicious blend of Chex cereal, milk chocolate chips, peanut butter, regular butter and a bunch of powdered sugar.

I made a huge bag and half of it is gone. You don't realize how fast it goes when the bag is sitting on your lap and you're just mindlessly inhaling the delicious treats while watching the latest episode of Army Wives.

Which, oh my gosh, is getting really good.

But this no clothes buying thing is going to make me FAT if I don't cut it out.

But I'm the only one who likes Puppy Chow.

Tom said it looked WEIRD and he won't even try it. He watched me make it and wrinkled his nose and went, "No thanks," when I offered him a try.

Tommy took a small bite and deemed it to "taste weird."

Natalie just breaks it apart in her palm and then throws the crumbs around which means that I have to lug out our Dyson vacuum for the 3rd time of the day so she doesn't get it into the carpet.

Someone needs to hide the Puppy Chow from me.

Seriously.

(She types as she munches on more Puppy Chow.)

Cinderella? I Don't Think So.

I went to a women's conference last weekend and one of the speakers, Angela Thomas, asked the question....in the book Cinderella....what character are you? Wow what a powerful question. I sat there for a long bit and thought about my answer....I chuckled softly to myself....I know I would not be Cinderella....I am not beautiful enough. I don't think I would be the wicked step-mother....I am not that mean.....and certainly not the wicked step-sisters....cause I am not that ugly....my feet aren't that big either.....it never occured to me to be the fairy god-mother.....and I knew I wasn't the mice, the coachman, the pumpkin (although that was a thought)....so who would I be? Then it came to me. All my life I have suffered from poor/low self-esteem....I am talking...to an almost paralyzing state. I would have been the other girls at the ball...you know...the ones who stood at the wall....wishing the prince would ask them to dance.....and when it did not happen....going home with my girlfriends....talking about all the other people at the dance. Yep, that would be me....the no-name characters.....the ones you never see....or know. Let me tell you....in reality....that was my life. The only people who thought I was pretty....were my parents and God.....and my parents had to love me....and I thought God needed glasses. I can remember asking God....why can't I be beautiful God? Why can't I have a cool name God? Why? Why? Why? Then one day it dawned on me....in God's eyes....the one who created me....I am just exactly like he wants me.....and I am beautiful. The problem is....I don't look in a God mirror everyday....and I don't see a beautiful person....I see every single flaw. I remember a particularly hurtful time in high school....when the captain of the football team....asked me to a party. ME! He asked ME! His name was Mike...and I was hopelessly in love with him. I remember sighing every single time he passed my locker on his way to class. How silly we are as teenagers....anyway...I am digressing. Mike asked me to this party. I, of course, said yes.....the only thing I did not know....was that it was a joke...his friends had dared him to ask me. I was the brunt of a joke....fortunately....God intervened....Mike picked me up for the party, we went out to dinner first, then took a drive....(we were supposed to arrive last)....somewhere during the drive....God took control of the wheel and Mike....we never made it to the party....and we dated for several months....it turned out...Mike thought I was funny.....and loved to hear me sing....which...if a radio was on.....I did. He took me to Phipps Park....and we swang.....and danced under the moonlight. It was probably one of the most romantic evenings I ever experienced. It was not until after I graduated from high school that Mike owned up to the lowness of the behavior. Kids can be so cruel. Anyways....here I am....many years later....learning to be pretty....still struggling with it....like an anorexic struggles with eating. The coolest thing I have discovered....as an adult....is the word GUIDANCE. Guidance is my special time with someone who thinks I am precious.....it is that time when God is in the room....and we dance. It is that special moment when He puts His arms around me....and tells everyone else...."Hey, this is my baby girl....." Wow! It is at that exact moment that He invites me to dance the dance of my life with Him. He does not make me be a Wall Flower....He makes me a strobe light......Guidance....God U and I Dance....and oh what a dance it is. I may never be Heather Whitestone in my eyes....but it is ok....because in God's eyes....I am His....and that is all that matters.

Scary Alien Shows

Whew.

I have more time to write now.

Which means there will be PRONOUNS in my entry. Hooray for pronouns!

The bad news is I'm totally PMSing and I feel like I'm going to eat all the food in the house. I feel like I'm on the Michael Phelps diet or something and have to remind myself that hello, you're not a swimmer so put that second eclair down!

So anyhow, the other night Tom had to go to a going away party for one of his co-workers.

What did I do?

I started watching this program about UFOs and aliens.

Big mistake.

I don't know why I haven't learned by now that I am not to watch programs like that alone.

I remember watching Unsolved Mysteries in my dorm room when no one else was there and freaking myself out.

The show was interesting though. I believe in aliens.

Of course I started to believe that an alien was going to walk into the house and abduct me.

Tom returned home in the middle of the show and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh good. I was freaking myself out," I told Tom.

He started to watch the show. He doesn't believe in aliens.

"A man on the show says that we're being egotistical if we think we're the only beings out there," I said with a sharp nod.

Tom made a face as he pulled off his shoes. "Then I guess I'm egotistical because I don't believe in aliens."

Then I started to watch as retired military members started talking about the UFOs they had seen and my eyes flicked suspiciously over to Tom.

"Tom," I said. "When you joined the Air Force were you briefed about UFOs? Did they tell you they exist but that you're not allowed to tell? I promise I won't tell anyone. Just, I don't know, WINK at me if you were briefed okay? That way you didn't technically tell me. Okay? So here we go Tom: do UFOs exist? Were you briefed?"

I stared at his eye expectantly.

But it did nothing. Tom just stared at me as though I were completely insane and went, "Amber. Even if I WAS briefed I couldn't tell you a thing. You know that."

Well hmph.

I'm ONLY his wife.

The woman who birthed TWO of his children.

The woman who gave him an HEIR.

I even said that last bit and he shook his head. "You really need to stop reading those King Henry books," he said.

"I just feel like I'm privy to the information," I fumed.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "PRIVY? The heck?"

He's always amused on some of the words that I use. When we first started dating he nearly keeled over with laughter when I informed him seriously that I was "parched."

He thought I made up the word.

"It's a word, Tom," I said. "It means to be thirsty."

I had to show it to him in a dictionary before he believed me.

And now it's a part of his vocabulary. Just the other day he went, "I'm parched!"

Of course I was still all freaked out about aliens when I went to bed. I kept thinking of those aliens in Signs and swore one was going to morph in front of me. Morph because, well, they're aliens and they have that technology.

I eventually drifted off to sleep but vowed never to watch a show like that alone again.

But just watch. I probably will. Because I'll talk myself into it and be all, "Oh well it'll be okay. You're older now. This sort of thing isn't scary anymore.."

But it IS. It always will be. Get that through your thick skull, Amber.

I have some pictures to share.

The Simple Entry

Am finally getting on.

Tom hogged computer most of the day. I asked him to get off and he was all, "I hung up pictures in bedroom!" as though that made it okay to hog computer.

Want to know what all I did in the house?

Changed diapers
Did dishes
Mopped floor
Made school lunch
Used Mr.Clean Magic eraser to get off weird residue on wall
Did MORE dishes
Did cat box
Fed cat who behaved as though he were starving even though had just been fed a few hours before
Fed baby
Changed more diapers (one of which nearly brought the house down with its scent)

So if anyone deserves to be online, it's me.

Then Tom went, "Want to decorate house for Halloween. Let's go to Wal-Mart and get decorations!"

Which makes no sense.

Reminded Tom that he just made a fuss over hanging a few PICTURES in our bedroom and now he wants to decorate house for Halloween??

"Didn't want to hang up pictures in bedroom," Tom explained. "But WANT to decorate house for Halloween. See the difference?"

Men make no sense. They say that women are nuts but it's men who are the baffling creatures.

So we headed to Wal-Mart.

Was confused when frosted sugar cookies wound up in cart. How did they get there? Am trying to watch what I eat.

In middle of Wal-Mart get a phone call from school.

Figure Tommy is crying.

Nope.

Tommy peed his pants.

"Doesn't he know to use the bathroom by now?" Tom grumbled when I said we had to go to the school to bring him a change of clothes.

Feel embarrassed to have six-year-old who wet his pants.

We rush through Halloween section. Tom didn't find anything right.

"Have to go to Micheal's," he insists. "Micheal's has more of a selection to decorate."

"Will go to Micheal's this weekend. Must get to Tommy. Is sitting in his own filth!" I shouted.

So we rush home.

I grab new clothes.

Rush back to school.

The school secretary knows me well. Was around for all of Tommy's antics last year. Smiles as though we're old friends and kindly tells me that Tommy is waiting in nurses office.

Find Tommy happily sitting there eating his lunch as it's lunch time.

"I brought clean clothes," I tell him, waving bag in the air.

"I'm okay," he said simply as though it were normal to sit in urine.

"No. You need a change," I insisted.

I thanked the nurse who said we could use the bathroom attached to room.

We walk in room. I ask Tommy why he wet his pants.

"I wanted quiet," he said simply.

Makes a little sense. Lunch room is filled with all sorts of noises. Grades Kindergarten through sixth grade all in there and it can get very very loud. For a kid with sensory processing disorder I imagine it's too much.

Feel strange thinking Tommy is a rather smart boy for pissing his pants in order to get quiet. He must've thought, "I need quiet, I'll go pee in my undies and WA-LAH quiet!"

But cannot have him make a habit out of it.

Explain that if he needs to go, to let teacher know.

He promises that he will.

Hope so. Does not want Tommy to be mocked for wetting his pants in the first grade.

(But try to feel a little better. At least it's pee and not poop.)

Nurse says that I can bring Tommy to cafeteria to join his class.

I do that.

When Tommy takes a seat one of his girl classmates told me seriously, "Tommy wet his pants. And smelled. Bad."

Explain that it was an accident and accidents happen.

"Not to ME," she told me primly.

Little witch.

Say goodbye to Tommy. He just waved and pretended as though nothing has happened.

When I got back in truck Tom was all, "Am hungry. Am going to Sonic!"

Remind Tom of food at home.

"Don't want that. Want cherry coke and a chicken wrap."

Of course I have no willpower and find myself with a diet cherry coke and a coney dog.

Then after Natalie went down for nap I went to grocery store. Bought a lot of stuff.

Was shocked when total was $160!

Nearly pissed my OWN pants.

But bought a lot of stuff because am going to try and cook more at home. We eat out too much.

Informed Tom of this when he saw all the bags in the trunk.

"Did you buy the entire store?" he asked.

"Am going to cook more. We eat out too much," I said firmly.

Tom just rolled his eyes. He's heard it before. I will try to cook and then get fed up and be all, "Am tired of this. Let's go to McDonalds." Life too short to spend it in kitchen.

Also bought Hershey Bliss candies. Am PMSing and either want sweet stuff. Or salty stuff.

(Also bought potato chips to take care of salty cravings.)

For dinner tonight am just having leftover pizza.

Tomorrow is Parent Information Night at school and figure I'll go. Afterwards is a Book Fair and I love books. Even if they aren't for me. Told Tommy he can pick out one.

"Want book on Transformers and plants," he said.

Maybe will allow two then.

Tommy likes to inform me that plants need sunlight. Wants to grow his own flowers. Wants to know why we don't have flowers in house.

"Mommy would kill flowers on accident," I said.

Mommy has a black thumb. Not a green thumb. Sorry.

"Mommy," Tommy said all exasperated. "You just need to water flower and put it in sunlight!"

Makes it sound so easy. But always forget to water flowers.

Would probably forget to feed own children if they didn't have a healthy set of lungs.

Need to go finish putting groceries away. Was hoping Tom would do it as I did the grocery shopping. He spotted some Crunch N Munch and happily retrieved that from bag and calmly stepped over all the other bags and went to go eat snack on couch.

Sometimes wonder if he's blind.