Thursday, April 30, 2009

Mish Mosh Tish Tosh

Whenever I go to someone else's blog I find myself inclined to 'bounce' as they say if the person has more than two or three contests, give-aways, tags or awards in a row. I guess I am more interested in what the blogger has to say, what they think, than what I could win from them, or what 8 things they've done recently or what awards their friend bloggers have given them. And as I looked over my blog I realized I was doing exactly what repels me from a site. So, for those like me, I solemnly swear not to do more than one tag or award (contests and give-aways are still too advanced level of blogger-dumb-ness)

News on Buzzy's home front: Her first two bottom teeth are FINALLY cutting through! Halleh-friggin-lujah (or however you spell it)

Confession: I actually started this post last night but after a horrid time getting Buzzy to sleep, I was too tired to finish it.

It seems that once again, for the third day in a row Myturo is leaving us to work double shifts. I remember a time long ago when Buzzy wasn't even a sparkle in my eye and even when she was in-utero that I would covet nights where Myturo would work double to have ME Time. Now that I no longer have a firm grasp on that concept (of ME Time) anymore I covet the days when he is home with Buzzy and me. love having him here to share in everything that is our daughter, from waking with her, to feeding her, to playing with her and but of course, dealing with her tantrums. He won't be spending that kind of time with him again until Monday. He works double today, tomorrow and Sunday. Faaabulous. Note sarcasm.

Sorry, my original topic from last night got away from me. I no longer have inspiration to write about tags, awards and my pet peeves . . . especially since Buzzy is being a fusspot.

Buzzys Mama's official definition of "Fusspot": (noun) To whine, whimper, cry, and/or make "stinky face" and undesirable cranky noises repeatedly without signaling in some way as to what's wrong.

Buzzys Mama's official definition of "Stinky Face": (noun ; can be used as a verb) The facial expression in which the brow is furrowed, the eyes squinted, nose scrunched and lips puckered to portray distaste in something or someone.

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Awe-Summm Award


I've been given my first award from an awesome blogger! She is Veronica Lee. Do visit her fabulous blog and I promise you won't be disappointed.

And now for the rules:
List 7 things that make you Awe-Summ and then pass the award on to 7 bloggers you love. Make sure to tag your recipients and let them know they have won! Also link back to the Queen that tagged you.

7 reasons I am AWE-SUMMM
1. I think I'm a pretty Awe-summm mom.
2. I think I am a pretty Awe-summm writer when I truly attempt to write.
3. I created two Awe-summlmy beautiful daughters
4. I am a pretty Awe-summm friend; honest, trustworthy and an Awe-summm listening ear
5. I believe in a pretty darn Awe-summm God
6. I was raised by thee Awe-summm-est mom
7. I have a wicked Awe-summm sense of humor

7 AWE-SUMMM Bloggers I'm passing this on to:

Tag. I'm it!

Stolen from Tagged by Veronica Lee of

This is a two parter.

Keeping it Real

Here are the rules:
Take a picture of yourself right now
No primping or preening, just snap the picture
Load the picture on to your blog
Tag some people to play

**Hey, rules are rules!
I can't be held responsible for those of you who are now blinded or permanently traumatized!

Here's the second part:

8 is Enough!

8 Things I am Looking Forward To
1. Giving birth to Little Nameless
2. Watching my girls grow up
3. Summer & the sun
4. Losing weight
5. Sims3
6. Writing my novel
7. Our first family vacation
8. Buzzy walking

8 Things I Did Yesterday
1. Went to breakfast with Buzzy & Myturo
2. Went to my mom's house
3. Went to my grandparent's house
4. Took a walk
5. Ate McDonalds
6. Went to the market
7. Dashed through the rain to get Buzzy her formula
8. Posted a few posts

8 Things I Wish I Could Do
1. Drive a stick shift
2. Write my novel
3. Convince Myturo that going out while pregnant during a full moon does not deform the baby
4. Cook
5. Speak Italian
6. Travel to Greece
7. Play with Buzzy without getting achey joints
8. Make money working from home

8 Shows I Watch
1. SpongeBob Squarepants
2. Phineas & Ferb
3. Cuidado Con El Angel
4. Las Tontas No Van Al Cielo
5. Manana Es Para Siempre
6. House
7. Gilmore Girls
8. Survivor

8 People I tag:
1. Megs @
2. Marcelle @
3. Septembermom @
4. Annie @
5. Nichole @
6. Kat @
7. Betsy @
8. DeeDee @

Small Vent About Myturo

This morning, I took Buzzy to Daddy's nook and sat her down to play. The following conversation ensued. (In Spanish but I will translate so you are not completely lost)

Me (to no one in particular) : So, Buzzy, what are we going to do for your 1st birthday? ((silence))
Me (to Daddy): I was thinking cake and swimming and running crawling through the sprinklers.
Daddy: But it's going to be hot.
Me: So?
Daddy: She'll get sick.
Me: She can't get sick from going through the sprinklers.
Daddy: If its hot outside and she goes through cold water she'll get sick.
Me: Oh, Hun, you have so much to learn about how these things happen. You can't get sick from going through cold water no matter how hot it is outside.
Daddy: Stop talking like you know everything, because you don't.
Me: ((Silence))

At this point I am trying desperately hard not to come back with how ignorant and naive he is to have such ridiculous notions about how one gets sick. I am trying very hard to keep my cool and not tell him how he needs to get his shit (oops, did I say that?) facts straight and jump into the 21st century with modern science.

Then Myturo asks no one in particular what we 'want' to do today. So I state what I want to do.

Me: I want to take a shower.
Daddy: You want to take a shower?
Me: Yeah.
Daddy: Then go take a shower.
((As Buzzy grabs a plastic bag full of baby clothes that are too small for her and starts shaking it and laughing hysterically))
Me: But you need to watch her.
((Daddy rolls his eyes))
Daddy: I'm watching her!
Me: She shouldn't have plastic.
Daddy: As long as I'm watching her and she doesn't put it in her mouth she's fine! Now go take a shower!

Now imagine me, as if I were on your computer screen. The camera slowly zooms to my face as I look slowly from Myturo to you, a facade of calm in my expression as my face slowly begins to flush and turn bright red. Slowly my eyes grow wider and wider as blood vessels pop and my blood pressure sky rockets through the roof. My hair slowly begins to stand on end from the electricity my body is generating from the anger rising and rising and rising. Steam begins to shoot out my ears.

Is it really too much to ask that my husband not allow my 10 month old daughter to play with electric cables, plastic bags, tin foil and other dangerous household items?? Is it really TOO MUCH?

No, I didn't think so.

Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Flip Floppin' for Formula In the Rain

Spring is here. Shouldn't the rain be heading on out? I know, I know. April showers bring May flowers, yada yada. But does the rain really have to stick its tongue out at me on the last three days of April after several days of beautiful sunshine, singing neener neener neener, I'm not gone yet?
Tonight, Buzzy and I went to the supermarket with my grandma for some miscellaneous items she needed. Upon arriving the sky was blue, the sun was setting and there were sparse clouds strung among the sunset. Cool, crisp dry air. It was beautiful. Perfect even. My ideal Spring evening!
An hour later, upon leaving it had started to sprinkle. No biggie. We drove home. I got my flip flop clad feet a bit soggy on the jaunt inside but again, no biggie.
I changed Buzzy's diaper and went to make her evening bottle only to find my very last can of formula with only 2.5 scoops left. I knew she'd want a bottle when it was time for bed and remembered I had a full can in the trunk of my car. After putting on Buzzy's pajamas I bundled her in her daddy's fleece jacket, slipped on my flip flops and went outside only to find it raining pouring cats and dogs.

Mind you, I was no longer dressed in my clothes but also bra-less in my long night shirt and mismatched Capri pajama bottoms. What a sight!
I decided to go inside and wait to see if the rain would let up, in the mean time trying to convince Buzzy that a bottle full of water was just as satisfying as a bottle full of formula. Apparently, I wasn't very convincing because she took the bottle of water from me and chucked it to the floor.

About twenty minutes later, I decided bedtime was quickly approaching and Buzzy was becoming increasingly more cranky. It was now or never!
So again, I bundled my pajama clad Buzzy in her daddy's fleece jacket, retrieved my trusty red umbrella from behind the closet door and out we went.
All I have to say is it is not an easy task to carry not only myself and my ever growing belly, not only carry me, my belly and my 24lb 10 month old. Not only carry me, my belly, my heavy 10 month old but my heavy 10 month old, bundled in a fleece jacket. Not only all these things but also an umbrella with rain pelting us, in flip flops down one flight and up another flight of puddle ridden, badly sloped stairs (remember my story 'we three fell'?) and THEN to unlock my car, open the trunk and retrieve the can of formula which had conveniently rolled to the back of the trunk.
Did I mention I also have very short arms and legs? Yeah, let's not even go there.
But somehow, with luck or possibly just by the grace of God I was able to reach the can of formula and then, with Buzzy hanging awkwardly off my hip, the umbrella everywhere but above us and therefore not exactly doing its job, and my flip flop clad feet now soaked, I made my way back down and up those nasty stairs, threw the umbrella, still open, on my doorstep and went inside.
I'm tired now.
But now I must make Buzzy her bottle and put her to sleep and only then, THEN, I too will change my jammies, make sure my feet are dry and rest.
Goodnight world!

Train of Thought Tuesday

*Please feel free to steal my button on the left side of this blog (please link it back to me if you don't use the html code) and do your own Train of Thought Tuesdays

*My sporadic and random thoughts for one solid minute.

My bra is too tight.
I wish I had that logo to make her button.
Poor Megs.
I wonder what it is she thinks her RE should be doing that he's not.
The blinds are closed.
Why are the blinds closed?
They should be open to let the sunshine in.
Was that Buzzy cooing?
Tell me she's not awake already.
Oh well, even if she is Myturo is in there with her.
Please, don't be awake yet little one.
Mommy needs a rest.
Peepee Diapers on the floor.
Yeah, maybe those should be in the trash.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Swine Flu

As many of my readers know, Myturo is Mexican and his family lives just a few hours South of Mexico city where this Swine Flu that has come about originated. It is said that as a cause of this fly 149 Mexican citizens are dead, Schools, Cathedrals and Public Events are either canceled or postponed indefinitely. This past Sunday, Cardinals gave mass to empty churches, the popular Pumas vs. Chivas (soccer), who had been sold out, played for an empty stadium. Mexicans in the D.F. (Distrito Federal = Mexico City) are walking around with face masks, if they leave their houses at all. Doctors and hospitals are turning people with symptoms away, simply because they are overflowing.
And who was thinking of traveling to Mexico City for mother's day? No, not the Pope!
My husband. Myturo.
Thank God he possesses at least a few marbles in that nutty head of his because he has decided that going is not worth the risk. Not worth the risk to his or our health and not worth the risk of a complete border block and not being able to re-enter the U.S. indefinitely. Not to mention, if that were to occur, beside the fact we would be indefinitely without income Myturo might also lose his residency for being outside the U.S.A (if the border block were to last longer than 6 months, God forbid)
Prayers for those who are sick, for those caring for the sick, and for the virus to stop spreading globally will be flowing tonight to Heaven. God hear us, hold us, heal us!

A Bump in the Road Body

Today I am 25 Weeks fragrant pregnant.

And here is my rotund round-ness for you to ogle enjoy . . .



Sunday, April 26, 2009

Amongst the Tulips

One More Update of Photos





Update of Photos







Photos of our day at the Tulip Farm, on Saturday. Photos of Aunt J and Cousin L are purposely omitted as Aunt J doesn't like their pictures on the Internet. But rest assured, we were not alone and we had a blast!






More Buggies

Some odd days ago, it may even be more than a week now, I was heading to my mom's house to visit her so she could see Buzzy. She had requested that I bring dinner and the fast food place she and my sister wanted was near me, not them. (I live approximately 15 miles from my mom)In any case, Buzzy and I drove into the drive-thru with the car windows all rolled down, cuz in a state where it rains 364 (ok, BIG small exaggeration) days out of the year, you don't lose the opportunity to roll your windows down.
So, as we drove up to the intercom where you order, what happens? A bug . . . a bug that looked roughly like this
(ok, BIG small exaggeration)
More like this
(Yes, it was a June bug)

flew through one of the open windows and hit the winsheild with a nasty crunch. It then proceeded to flop around my dashboard making that horrible bzzzing sound crunchy flying bugs make and each time it would crash into something it would crunch making my ears ring and my adrenaline rush. I prayed he wouldn't **bzzz crunch** onto me or Buzzy or even worse into one of our mouths or up one of our noses.
This continued on as I spewed out an order and drove to the pickup window. He then unceremoniously *bzz crunched* right into Buzzy's diaper bag where I had my money stored in my wallet. Eeew! I freaked, jumped outta my car with cars lining up behind me, rushed around to the passenger side with every intention of dumping the diaper bag completely empty into the drive-thru. But as I peered into the diaper bag, there seemed to be no movement and no *Bzzz Crunch*
With the tips of my thumb and index finger I pulled my wallet out of the diaper bag and rushed back around to the driver side of the car where I proceeded to stand, pay and receive my food, only THEN get back into my car.
I decided since there seemed to be no more man-eating June Bug in the car and we'd be going about 50mph down the main highway, to keep the windows down on the way to my mom's, and off we went.
About 15 minutes later when we arrived at my mom's, after a surprisingly non-panicked drive, I called my mom on my cellphone so she could come out and help me with Buzzy, my luggage *ahem, diaper bag and the food and who would you guess would flop his *bzz-ing crunchy* body out of the diaper bag, bzz straight to the glove compartment *crunch* and amazingly zoom straight out the open window?? You guessed it. The man-eating June Bug. Pheeew! What a relief!

Friday, April 24, 2009

You're Buuggging Me Dude! Stop it: MomDot's Small Talk Six


Those MomDotters are at it again...Small talk Six! On Saturdays.This week's topic is: The six things other people do that make you personally uncomfortable.You can answer this with a list of 6 words, 6 phrases, 6 sentences, 6 paragraphs, 6 photos, 6 videos, etc .

There are so many things in life that annoy me about people. It is hard to pick JUST six. But I suppose I can make an effort to try to pick thee most annoying things. Ho Hum, hard stuff. Here it goes:

#1: I don't like it when people chew with their mouth open and even less when they talk with their mouth full. The wet smacking sound it makes and the visual of half chewed food literally drives me up a wall. Exception: Babies and toddlers who don't know better.

#2: Parents in public places who allow their children (especially young infants) to scream and hyperventilate without so much as glance in the baby/child's direction much less a kind word or a hug.

#3: People who listen to their music far too loud. If I can hear your music while you have your ear buds in, or while both your car windows and my car windows are up, or when all doors and windows in my home are closed, then your music is indeed too loud and I am not too old, you are just disrespectful and will eventually go deaf from overexposing y0ur eardrum.

#4: People who have nothing better to do with their time than sit around and judge, critisize, insult and gossip about others, whether it be in real life about passerby or people you read about on the internet.

#5: Women who wear jeans several sizes too small with their butt crack hanging out and their muffin top spilling out over the top with a tight shirt to boot. This goes for men as well but rather that they wear their pants too loose and they hang down around their knees while their tighty whiteys or boxers are exposed. You have hips, a waist and I'm sure enough money to invest in a belt. Utilize your resources.

#6: Drivers who see you coming, look you straight in the eye and back out in front of you, cut you off and/or take the parking spot you've been waiting 15 minutes for because the old lady had shopping bags to put away and then had to stow her walker, get in and then took the extra 10 minutes backing out.

**Runners up included smokers, tobacco chewers, people who enjoy using profanity at inappropriate times, and people who brag relentlessly.

" . . . in all her elegance."


As I have said before, my sister and I haven't always gotten along. I used to get in trouble for everything she did or didn't do, everything I did or didn't do, and everything I did that she wanted to do.
But as we both grew older, we developed a great relationship. She confides in me, I share with her, we have our inside jokes and we have a lot in common when it comes to our personalities and likes and dislikes. I've gone on all her big trips with her and almost feel like a second mom to her. She's the love of my life, as I took to calling her some years back. My baby sister. I love her so, and for THIS reason what I am about to write traumatized me so, to the point of waking near hyperventilation with tears streaming down my face.

A Glimpse Into My Personal Horror

Something bad was coming and coming soon. A disease? A natural disaster? A monster? No one knew. But everyone was running. My daughters, safe in the care of my grandmother, my mom and I surveyed our house. Was it really our house? It held our things, our furniture and other belongings. Photos strewn about, collectibles on the floor. But the house was not familiar.
Strangers raced about with large suitcases and stray dogs came and disappeared trying to escape as my mom and I meandered. It felt supremely surreal. We spoke of dropping everything, packing and fleeing, for a minimum of two years.
And as we walked, she haunted me. Not my mom. No, someone else. Someone with my eyes, only darker. She was there, warning me? Pleading with me? Was she sick? Asking me to save her? All in blurred reflection images I couldn't fully grasp.
My mom and I continued. We spoke of the munchkin movers, whose name my mom said but I can't remember and how they stole her jelly bellies that she liked so much. We laughed. And we stood in the well lit basement and pondered what our future had in store. What things we would pack and take with us. I was not worried. Whatever was coming did not worry me. Just those eyes. Those dark brown eyes haunted me.
We moved on, my mom and me. We came to a sliding glass door that led to the back yard. I hesitated, scared, of what I didn't know, before I walked through it when my mom opened it. The sky was bright, the grass was vibrant and green. Airplanes roared overhead sounding emergency and people scattered like ants.
" . . . in all her elegance." I heard my mom say and gestured away from us, into the backyard.
I didn't understand. Who? Elegance? My gaze surveyed my surroundings until they found and rested upon an octagonal shape in the grass. 8 corners marked by white wild flowers, strung together with flowing silky white ribbonm enclosing a rectangle of beige marble. Marble only used for one thing. Death.
" . . . in all her elegance." my mom's words resounded as those eyes, big, helpless eyes, like mine flashed before my eyes as I crumbled.
"My baby . . ." was all I could whisper through my sobbing sorrow as I fell. My baby sister.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

All In a Day

Today has been interesting. Buzzy and I woke up this morning after another night of (almost) uninterrupted sleep and had some cereal and yogurt. The beginnings to any normal day in this house. Then Daddy woke up and we decided to go out for our breakfast as we normally do on his days off. We always go to IHOP because the prices are low and the food is good. (good being a relative term that means edible, digestible and won't give you stomach pains or keep you in the bathroom, moaning for all eternity) So we drove the 10-15 miles (whatever it is) to IHOP and parked. I got Buzzy out of her car seat and was standing next to the car while Myturo got her high chair cover (yes, I use one of those. Not because I'm anal but because I can. LOL)
High Chair Cover (in case you don't know what one is - they're fabulous and work in grocery carts also)

and diaper bag together. As I stood and waited with Buzzy goo-ing and gaa-ing over the trees and trying to pinch off the freckles (that aren't even raised) from my chest I watched as a very large 4x4 Ford truck began to back out of the space directly in front of us. Something in me cringed. I don't believe in fortune telling and I definitely don't believe in psychic powers but a 6th sense of some sort told me what was coming was not good. The truck backed straight out very slowly, stopped, backed out some more, stopped and NEVER turned it's wheels. He just kept coming out straight and before I could say anything or yell for Myturo to honk the horn, **CRUNCH** the trailer hitch of the truck crashed into the grill of my little Nissan. UGH!
Myturo, still sitting in the car and a little delayed in his reaction, pressed the horn ineffectively which made it 'chirp' instead of 'honk'.

Yeah, that's the way to tell 'em hun!

The man in the truck got out of his car and asked,
"Did I hit you?"
My sarcastic side thought snidely.

No, dear, if you had hit me I probably wouldn't be standing here but rather laying, kneeling or sitting on the ground with some kind of crushed appendages, doncha think?

But all I could bring myself to say was,
"Yep. You got my grill pretty good."
"Gee, I'm sorry." Gotta love that 'ignorant is me' Washintonian-ness.
In all actuality he really didn't damage my car. He just popped the grill plate out of place and both he and Myturo popped it back in easily. I did however, ask him for his name and insurance information regardless. When my car was inspected further and I was satisfied that there really was no damage and the man offered to pay for our breakfast, I agreed. I generally don't take advantage of people unless they are just plain rude or obnoxiously obstinate. And as Myturo pointed out, if we had taken advantage of this poor man, it would have eventually come back to bite us. I don't believe in Karma or whatever else that sounds like either but I do believe we reap what we sew and so we let the truck guy off the hook.
After breakfast, which ended up costing us a whopping $7.09 with the $25.00 gift certificate Mr. Truck Guy had bought we went to Target as Buzzy who is now 10.5 months old has officially grown out of her 9,12,and some of her 18 month old clothes. So we went, bought her her first bathing suit. Some summer dresses, some shorts and tank tops and some 24 month onesies.
On the way through Target though, I found something very ironic. As I looked around at the other customers, I saw several 'chunky' women, several large women, and a few VERY large women, myself included somewhere in that bunch. I saw only a couple women who looked like they were at their perfect weight and then of course the few twiggies. And as I over viewed the selection of clothing available I almost had to laugh. The twiggies and the perfect weight ladies must have been in their glory because the clothing available looked like nothing more than size 5. There were tank tops, and skirts, skorts, capris, leggings, bikinis and bathing suits and sun dresses and all of them looked like they belonged on a 120lb girl with no hips and no boobies.
Tsk Tsk Target. When the average woman in the state's population weighs about 200lbs you should be selling clothing accordingly. And no, I don't mean gigantic moomoo's or however you spell it, with the even more gigantic floral print. Thank God I'm pregnant and I can find decent non-floral print non-moomoo-ish clothing to cover my ever expanding girth. Otherwise I may have had to write Target a little note.
And on that note (of a note) Prayer for my Mama would be greatly appreciated. She just has the flu but her throat is swollen and her lungs are rattling and there isn't anything they can do for her because its a virus. So please keep her in your prayers that she gets better quickly. I don't like to see my Mama sick.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009


Clothes (See E's response at

2nd Prompt

Use a particular and fairly vivid piece of clothing to tell a story. What does clothing say about us? How does it select us, as opposed to being selected by us? What do clothes hide? What do they reveal?
(from prompt #21 in The 3 AM Epiphany)


I'm white. Well, I was. Colorless. Well except for those stains. The stains that seem to grow and pile upon each other 4-7 days out of the month, every month. When I was new, I was stark white. Beautifully colorless with white lace around my openings. That was a long time ago, when I spent my days hanging out on mesh wire among others of my kind, in different sizes and colors.
The day she bought me, I didn't know what to expect. I had never been on anything but mesh wire before and when she pulled me out of her shopping bag, and stepped into me for the first time I felt uncomfortable. The mesh wire had only clung to my top two edges. Now I was being yanked and fitted up two long structures and around a thick trunk. The lace at my openings became stretched and my stark white color took on a kind of transparency.
Over time she used me occasionally, as I said, for about 4-7 days out of the month, washing me every other day or so. At times she would use bleach, possibly to try to recapture my previous clean white colorlessness. But she was never able to obtain that again. I was marred. Tainted. When she wasn't wearing me, she wore others who looked similar to me in structure but sported more curves, more lace and more color. She never wore those for 4-7 days in a row and they were always washed on delicate after only one day.
Then one month, I expected her to come for me. It was about that time that she normally would have and I hadn't been used in a while. When the time came and passed I started to get nervous. Would I sit in this drawer forever? Had she decided that I was no longer useful because my fabric had been stretched out of proportion, my lace now sported holes and strings and the elastic just wasn't as bouncy as it had once been? I spent a long time just sitting there in that folded position she had last left me, wondering, pondering, worrying. It felt like an eternity.
Out of nowhere, one day, she opened the drawer and laid another garment, just like me, only bigger with an extended upper portion, next to me. Had I been replaced? She didn't take me out again after that day. She used the other, new garments, with the extended upper portions instead. They remained white, with no stains and didn't seem to stretch or tear or become misproportioned over time. She seemed to love them more than she had ever loved me. She wore them day in and day out, washed them, folded them, wore them and washed them again.
It was nearly nine months later, when I found myself stacked underneath piles and piles of other garments, of all colors and sizes that she came looking for me once again. I didn't think it was me, who she seeked so fervently but when her eyes came upon me she picked me up, held me to the light pressed me to her trunk while looking at herself in the mirror. She then pulled me up over those two old familiar long structures and around her thicker trunk which I clung to just a bit tighter, and when she took me off that next evening to wash me, I had a brand new stain.

Baby Booger Hides Again

Today I had a follow up growth scan. One of the many I have already had and have yet to have. I am 24 weeks 2 days today and Little Nameless (who might I add HAS A NAME NOW!) is measuring right on target with all ten fingers, all ten toes, a big ol' belly and her daddy's nose. Oh and a hole in her head. Ok, not funny but honestly, one of the photos the tech took looks supremely disturbing. You will see below. My placenta is no longer in the way making a VBAC fully plausible, with my cervix measuring 6 blocks (per the perinatologist's words). Actually it was measuring 4+ cm which is good. Be low are the photos of Little Nameless in all her hiding glory. I may add, Little Nameless seems to be structurally smaller than Buzzy ever was and there doesn't seem to be a hair in sight. Unlike with Buzzy who's hair was like a mermaid's in the amniotic fluid from very early on. So with no further adieu, Buzzy's sister, Little Nameless (as I will continue to call her until she has an appropriate nickname)

She definitely has Daddy's nose


Attempting to keep hidden


Stop bothering me!!

The scary skull-less photo


Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Train of Thought Tuesday

*Please feel free to steal my button on the left side of this blog (please link it back to me if you don't use the html code) and do your own Train of Thought Tuesdays

*My sporadic and random thoughts for one solid minute.

I hope Buzzy feels better soon.
The sun is out, the sun is out.
I hate those waspy things with the dangly legs.
Is my laundry done?
What's my mom doing?
I wish I weren't so tired.
I'm so excited about my ultrasound tomorrow.
Wow, Buzzy snores loudly when she's sick.
I don't want to pick up all the toys or do the dishes or clean or finish the laundry.
I wonder what my family is doing for dinner tonight.
I wonder how Stellan is doing after his surgery.
I wish pool season would start now.
Watermelon sounds good.
So do cool ranch doritos.
Darn dryer has to be so friggin' loud!
Need to replace that light bulb.
Wish Buzzy knew how to blow her nose.
Texting is addictive.
My YI isn't bothering me today.
I'm hungry.
The sun!
I wanna go to the river and bbq.

Monday, April 20, 2009

Shocked, Appalled, Disgusted!

I was surfing the web yesterday and came across a website called I was investigating what it was all about when the name Mckmamma caught my eye. Being the great admirer of this woman that I am, I thought maybe she was a part of this site as well and clicked to investigate. But the moment I clicked on the link, ( I realized this was not by Mckmamma but about her and, as I read, nothing I wanted to be a part of. I have included links because I truly could not believe what I was reading. However, I continued to read, becoming more and more appalled by the word! The name calling, the accusations, the gossip and the naked hatred these people are spewing is more than I can comprehend.

One person wrote (and I 100% agree):
WOW! I'm shocked to read some of these post about another women's outward appearences. It's rather sad that people have nothing better to do then pick apart someones looks, clothes and how much or what they are eating. Guess daughter was in the NICU for 2 weeks and it wasn't anywhere near as severe as Stellan's problem. I'm an emotional eater and gained 10 lbs in 2 weeks. Whether you agree with her or like who she is, you can't deny that having your 5mo son in the NICU with heart problems would be stressful! WHY do you care so much if she finishes a bag of trail mix?! She could eat the entire mix AND the bag itself if that's what she wants to do! Why should any of that be of your concern?

And this one as well:
If you "CANNOT stand this woman" to the point that you "want to vomit" why then are you following her on Twitter? It doesn't even make sense that you would continue to read thing that cause such turmoil within your own life! The fact that you know she has literally updated Twitter 9 times in an hour, shows quite an obession on your end. Really! You're counting how many times she has twittered, then bitching about it!! QUIT FOLLOWING HER! There, that's the simple, in the very least, should cure your nausea! Good luck! (also isn't the point of twitter to give quick updates? Like, leaving for Target!, didn't find what I wanted, so I'm going to Walmart!...see how that works?!)

If you have read even a portion of what I linked to this post I would hope you are at least half as upset about this as me. I mean, despite the fact that the entire 'chat' is completely pointless and succeeds in doing nothing productive it also brings so many questions to my mind.

Who are these people?
Why do they have such a profound dislike from someone they don't even know?Who are they to say what is real and true and why do they even care?
Supposedly these are all adults. Do they not have better things to do with their time then sit and read blogs and the publicly bash and insult the writer?
Don't they have better things to do with their time then sit and pick apart someone's words until they are twisted and ugly?
And why do they care about the generosity of millions of people lending a hand, or a dollar or a bag of trail mix to a family who while may not be monetarily in need but are currently passing through a very trying time in their life?
Again, who are these people? Better yet, who do THEY THINK they are?

Ok, I'm done with my vent. This just really made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end! UGH! Regardless, so many people love you MckMamma & Stellan and I am praying for you to be HEALED ONCE AGAIN!

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Dreams, Convictions & A Confessional


Last night my sleep was riddled by periods of being awake, as most pregnant moms with a sick 1o month old would be. But in addition, my sleep was riddled with disturbing, very vivid dreams that I found so ironic and so bizarre that I felt I needed to attempt to share them. Now, as anyone knows, dreamland has no logic and to eloquently describe a dream as the dreamer experienced it is darn near impossible, yet still, I will try.

In my first dream, the one I remember the least, and therefore will struggle with most to describe, I don't know where I was. A house? At a party? The house was big, dark (inside and out, though I don't recall actually seeing the outside) The inside seemed to be lit only by candles (that candle lit glow) and yet I don't recall seeing any candles. There were people there that in my dream *I knew* I knew. But their faces were not familiar. Ok, now for the strange part. I was undoubtedly me. BuzzysMama (minus Buzzy) and I was definitely female, but I wasn't. I felt an intense not love, not passion, not lust, but an intense 'something' for a girl who was there with me who happens to be my friend M. She looked a bit different in my dream. Much longer dark hair and much more angled, intense features and yet she had freckles, which she does not in real life. In the dream I also remember knowing I had this seriously catastrophic secret to keep from her and yet I was at peace because she already knew? There was no real beginning or culmination to the dream. Like I said, I don't remember it well but the ambience of the dream was nostalgic, warm and had underlying tones of lies, deceit and a farce on my part. What could this mean?

My second dream takes place in a hospital. One particular room. It was all white and I was the patient. At first I don't know why I was there except to get a catheter? And I remember being fearful of how much it would hurt without enesthetic. Someone, a doctor? a nurse? a stranger?, told me I wouldn't feel a thing. And then suddenly I was in the operating room, only if you can imagine, I was watching my surgery through a very narrow zoomed-in camera lense. They were reconstructing my boobies. And as they did so, they explained to me (the me that was watching, not the me having the surgery) that they were placing the nipples in a better location for nursing. They told me that 'while they were in there' (because this reconstruction was not the real purpose of the surgery) that they thought this would help. And in my mind, me having surgery, I knew they were giving me a cerclage (a cervical stitch) to keep my new baby inside longer. And yet later in my dream, they had actually removed the baby, placed her in a tiny metal pod looking device and told me they were going to dilate me and 'put her back'. (but in much more crude terms that I cannot remember, but I knew they shocked me) There was more to this dream but it was irrelevant and not at all related to the part I just described.

So, if any psychologist, dream interpreter or just someone wants to attempt to help me out with the meaning of the dreams (and I don't mean fortune telling, or future predictions of money, love or the like), PLEASE, feel free.


I have been feeling great conviction lately (which is also why a confessional follows) My greatest conviction is that which includes me spending (or not spending) enough time with Buzzy. Don't get me wrong. I spend every waking moment with her but in large my mind is elsewhere which ultimately makes me feel like a really cruddy mom.
Her one year immunizations are coming up and I am dreading them. I hate to see her cry, especially when a stranger is 'hurting her' and she doesn't understand why. The selfish part of me wants to leave the room, to not have to watch, to not share in the emotional pain a mommy must endure when seeing her child/ren in pain. And yet the mommy in me feels convicted, to stay, to watch, to be-a-part, to make it less traumatic and less lonely for Buzzy.
Also, after reading a particular blog I feel especially convicted to be more selfless, less ornery and more understanding and compassionate of my husband's feelings, needs, and wants. I feel the need to be a better wife, a better homemaker, a better person for him. God willing and only by His grace of course because He knows this is not my nature.


So, here it is. I'm going to lay it out on the table. I am a jealous person. I find myself envying and coveting what others have. Only recently, however, has it come to my attention (by reading someone else's blog) how detrimental this behavior can be, and truly is.
I have always been a vain person. Even while my body proportion has always been on the larger side I have always been physically vain. I know I have (had) beautiful hair, I covet no one else's face. My skin is perfect, my features large and often complimented. But despite being vain, I have always been desperately insecure. Physically insecure, emotionally insecure and many other kinds of insecure I can't even think of and this is where my jealousy comes in. I see what is wrong (or what I believe is wrong) with me, find someone who posesses that of which I believe I lack and obsess about it. I often have found myself inexplicably looking for confirmation, reassurance and acceptance in the strangest places.
Hence, this blog. I didn't fully realize this until last night (when again, I was reading someone else's blog) but I not only use this blog as an outlet. I find myself expecting from it. Expecting people to read, be interested, leave comments, even 'follow' me.
And who am I?
No one, that is who.
Why do I allow myself to obsess about who from where and when is following me? Why do I check my blog counter and analytics several times a day to see how many 'unique viewers' I've had? Why do I see other blogs with 100's, 1000's, even millions of followers and I feel envy. Why do I care? Who do I think I am? Why do I feel the need for that which others have? What would I even gain if I were to obtain that which others have? Nothing. Momentary self worth? Why do I need that?
The answer is, I don't need that. When I think about it, I don't even want it. I just wanna be BuzzysMama and so, for those who do follow, please forgive me if I don't post every day. I will continue to post when I feel the need to vent or share but I am no longer going to attempt to 'get my blog out there'. I have a beautiful 10 month old asleep in my arms who will soon grow up and time will be lost. The computer and my blog will always be here.

Friday, April 17, 2009

Pieces of Me

I thought, for those who don't know me or who don't know me well, I would write a post explaining a bit about me. While some of you know my name, it isn't important really in the scheme of things. I am most importantly known as Mama, or Mommy.
Before I became a mommy I believe I was defined by my laziness. I worked only as much as was required of me. I spent hours upon hours on superficial ridiculousness. I watched TV, I played on the computer, once in a while I would venture out with my husband or to visit my family but I was basically a hermit, enclosed in my world of fiction and cyber reality.
In addition to being lazy I was also known for being anti-nature. No one ever invited me anywhere that involved the outdoors because they knew my answer would be no. I hated bugs, I hated any weather that wasn't cold and rainy (allowing me to stay indoors with a solid excuse) and I hated any sort of exercise that didn't include a time limit.
Now a days my life is significantly different. I no longer am defined by my lazy, anti-social, hermit ways. My daughter opened up a door in my life that has truly opened my eyes to a new perspective.
Now, when given the opportunity to go somewhere (whether it be indoors or outdoors) I generally jump at the opportunity. I am no longer a super wimp (a big wimp still, though) when it comes to bugs. They don't stop me from venturing outside. One of Buzzy's favorite things is the cold outside air. And she thrives in the sunlight on warm days. There is nothing I personally enjoy more than seeing my baby girl enjoying herself in the natural sunlight with the breeze in her face. And because I enjoy her happiness, I too am happy.
Today, I am (Most Importantly) a Mommy of two beautiful girls. Today I define myself as a creative, mildly stubborn, easily irritable but patient, crazy, beautiful, humorous, adventurous, timid yet loud, bilingual, enjoy-er of life.

40th Post

I would have liked to have had more happy things to post about on my 40th post. Unfortunately my night was full of crying, headaches, vomit, and not full at all of sleep. Buzzy came down with a cold the day before yesterday. The Pheneminimus, as my family calls it. She has a wicked congested cough, and last night it escalated into vomiting and fever. Needless to say, I spent more time walking around the house with a sometimes whining, sometimes screaming, and sometimes sleeping 10 month old than I did in bed. I spent more time in the bathroom, cleaning vomit off of Buzzy and myself and at 7:00AM when I did finally fall asleep I was so tired that three hours later at 10:00 I didn't wake up when Buzzy started crying. Instead, I dreamt about her crying. Thank God for Myturo though. As much as I complain sometimes, and as much as I bad-talk him sometimes, I must say that all I had to do was ask him to stay home from work and he was on the phone calling someone to cover his shift. Thank God for these answered prayers.

On another note. I am tired of my stomach sitting on my thighs. I have been pregnant with no time to recuperate a non-pregnant body for going on 2 years and thus my stomach is stretched (especially considering I'm 6 month along) and mishapen and just, not pretty. Slowly but surely the end of July, beginning of August is approaching and Little Nameless will be here. I cannot wait to see her and see how she and Buzzy look alike and how they differ. I cannot wait to have her in my arms, and not in my womb and cradle my two beautiful girls together. I cannot wait to have my body back.

And on that note, my eyes are sleepy. Buzzy is napping with Daddy so Mama is going to close her eyes also.
God Bless

Thursday, April 16, 2009

One of THOSE Days

Buzzy's sick.
I hate when Buzzy's sick.
I hate the coughing.
I hate the sneezing.
I hate the runny nose.
I hate the whining.
I hate the fact that she's uncomfortable.
But I hate most, the fact that Daddy thinks she's sick because I gave her ice water.
Yeah, ice water causes colds. ((insert eye roll here))
Mommy's irritated and cranky.
If you couldn't tell.
I have wicked heartburn.
I have aches and cramps.
I have the beginnings of a headache.
And Daddy's oblivious.
Daddy is oblivious to a lot.
But I do have to give him props.
He made breakfast.
He cleaned the kitchen.
And he was desperately concerned when Buzzy threw up her breakfast all over me.
The sun is shining.
It's been shining since yesterday.
I love the sun.
That's what happens when you are born in and live in California for 20 years of your life.
But we're inside.
What the heck?
I'll ask again,
What the heck?

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Sleepy Eyes and Chinese Food

So, the title of this post is basically how I feel and what I'm smelling at the moment. I am exhausted, even though Buzzy and I got a decent nights sleep. Little Nameless is just kicking my butt! She is sooo active and never seems to rest. I pray that this is not a foreshadowing of what is to come once she is outside the womb. I swear I will be zombie mommy if it is. On the other hand, I won't be pregnant anymore and maybe my non-pregnant self will be less lethargic and more energized to meet my little girls' energy with greater enthusiasm than I can now? One can hope and pray and plead!
Last night we had Chinese food and I wasn't feeling too hungry so my covered plate is still sitting on our kitchen table, reeking up my home. Nothing quite like the smell of kung pao chicken and fried shrimp in the morning, let me tell ya. Its enough to make me want to vomit.
Oh wait, I did that already! Yet another gift from my youngest child. She insists that mommy not only continue to be blessed with nausea and dry heaves, but lately anything that isn't cooked perfectly well or looks even mildly 'off' comes right back up. Thanks sweety, you're such a doll.

Photos of the Dwelling Place of My Little Nameless
AKA My Belly at 23 Weeks


On a completely different note, my dearest most wonderful friend Meghan is going through with her first IUI (intra-uterine insemination) tomorrow. For those of you that don't know this is a more invasive technique used to impregnate someone when natural methods have failed them so far but not quite as complex (or expensive) as IVF (invitro-fertilization). I am so excited for her. Her husband and she have been waiting 3 loong years for their first child and I am praying it is in God's will that this be the time it happens!! Prayers from anyone who feels inclined to do so are greatly appreciated by me and of course by the (hopefully) soon-to-be parents.
And on THAT note, I am happy to announce that another very dear friend, Annie, who in previous posts I wrote has confirmed a successful IVF transfer, just had her first confirmation ultrasound yesterday and there is reason to be doubly grateful because she is pregnant with twins!! Halleluja and Hooray for the Tweedles!!


I came across E's blog, Epiphanizing, and it inspired me to write. In her blog she has prompts that she uses for her excerpts and I was given permission to use them. So in the future, on any given day you may find a post from me, not in my normal context, but instead you will glance into my imagination and view just a glimpse of the fictional world I one day dream of creating. So enjoy, and if you aren't interested in fiction please scroll to the previous or next post for the 'real life happenings' in my home.

My first prompt:

The Closet
Write a story in which the character is snooping around an ex-boyfriend’s (or girlfriend’s) apartment because he or she still has a key. The whole story takes place in a closet in the bedroom that the narrator retreats to when the ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend comes home with the narrator’s best friend. The narrator must endure, inside the closet, maybe the sounds of this couple making love for the first time or perhaps simply a loving conversation unlike any the narrator has ever had with this former paramour. Describe only what the narrator can see and smell inside the c?loset and what she can hear and guess is going on outside the will show us your narrator’s deep sadness or anger or a combination of the two, without having to describe it.

This exercise forces you to blindfold your observer. Every image presented in a piece of prose is like the image this narrator will perceive—imagined, reconstructed, simplified.
(from prompt #23 in The 3 AM Epiphany)

The Closet

He is there. That is why I am here, in this closet. I didn't expect anyone to be home. I can't see him. He must still be in the front of the apartment. My heart is thudding in my chest. Adrenaline? Fear? Excitement? The smell of him permeates my nose and no doubt when I get out of here, if I ever get out of here, my clothes will smell of his detergent. Why did he have to come home?
Wait. Footsteps. More than one pair. The bedroom door squeaks open but the light is left off. There are whispers. He's with someone. The clickity clack of heels indicates he's with a woman. Her breathy giggles float through the closet door and into my ears. I know that laugh. It is the laugh of the woman who I have known since we were in elementary school. The woman who, when we were girls, I shared my favorite clothes with. The woman who rode the bus with me, as teenagers, to summer camp. The woman who I confided my deepest secrets to. And she is here with him. He brought her here. To his apartment.
Questions reel through my mind. When did they start seeing each other? Why didn't I know? How long has this been going on? Why her?
There is a rustle of material. I can see nothing through the slats of the closet except for a very dim shadow cast on the far wall by the sliver of the moon shining in the window. The thudding of my heart quickens. I don't want to witness this. I close my eyes, inhale. Him. That is all I smell.
Wait. No, I smell her too. That familiar perfume. The one we shared. The one I have given her as a gift every year on her birthday since she was seventeen. My throat closes. I open my eyes. I don't want to see, but I must see what can be seen. The creak of the bedframe as weight is set upon it startles me. Can they hear me breathing? How can I make this stop? There is silence, more material rustling, the bedframe creaks again and there is soft whispering. No movement. No more creaking.
From the dim shadow on the wall it looks as though one or both of them are lying on the bed. But what are they doing? I still hear faint whispers but I see no movement. My heart still thuds a steady, almost painful beat in my chest. I close my eyes, brace myself on the wall of the closet. This isn't happening. And then, there is only the sound of deep inhales, staggered by the other's exhales. No other noise accompanies the breathing. They're asleep. Together. Lying on his bed, where we used to lay. Together. And I am stuck here in his closet, accompanied only by his smell. Alone.

Monday, April 13, 2009


No, I am not talking about the burn you feel when you exercise, although at this point I almost wish I were talking about that kind.
No, I'm not talking about the burn when you touch something extremely hot.
No, I'm not talking about a sun burn, a rash, an irritation or anything like it.
I am talking about the eye popping, nose wrinkling, stomach turning, toe curling sensation of heartburn. Also known as acid reflux, GERD, or in my case just THE BURN.
No one except a woman who has this before she becomes pregnant and then becomes pregnant and it worsens knows exactly what I am talking about. I am not talking about an uncomfortable burning sensation in your chest. I'm not even talking about a mild burning in the esophagus and mouth. No, I am talking about a sensation that feels like a slow erupting volcano. It can be provoked by spicy food, lying down, drinking soda, not eating for too long or absolutely nothing at all and I never know when it is going to sneak up on me.
It starts as a slow aching rumble in my chest where my esophagus ends and my stomach begins. It escalates into a bubbling, gurgling burping sensation in my throat, until I burp, or swallow and the fiery mess of God Only knows what kind of acid I have in my stomach wells up in my throat and enters my mouth burning everything in its path. Clearing my sinuses, making my eyes water and choking me with the bitter super burn.
What helps you ask? Not much. Whole milk seems to coat my esohpagus temporarily. The same with Tums. Sometimes eating a yogurt will help calm the edge but in general, nothing helps THE BURN long term. NOTHING.
Oh wait, yes there is. Its called BIRTH! And unfortunately I have to wait at least, LEAST, 13 more weeks for this but more likely around 16-17 weeks. Pure torture if you ask me. Pure torture.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

Mommy No-Like-uh-Duh Buggies

So to wind down from the festivities of Easter my gramma came over to my house to help me tidy up and relax and visit for a bit. The time we spent was fabulous. She is a wonderful woman! And of course, Buzzy loves her great-gramma to death.
In any case, eventually our time visiting came to an end and it was time for her to pack up and drive home. We said our goodbyes, hugged and just as she was walking out the door one of those mondo-massive-icky-yucky-bzzzzing-mosquito looking bugs with the ugly dangling legs flew right in.
"Did I just let in a bug?" My gramma asked.
Ok, so it is at this point I must emphasize, Mama don't do bugs! Aracnids sure. (the non-flying, non-jumping kind)Flies, gnats and even your small to average sized mosquito once in a while but the rest of the buggies in this universe need not enter my house!
Needless to say, I freaked. As this mosquito on sterroids flew around my kitchen, makings its Bzzzing noise and smacking its ugly body against the hot kitchen light making sizzling sounds I completely freaked. My gramma, who is still quite young and spry (whoever said 60 was old?) came back into the house put down her purse and picked up a dish towel. By now though the oversized mosquito had gone missing though and I was already hyperventilating as I imagined Buzzy and I sleeping and it landing in my or her open mouth, or even just on our faces. I cringed and had a very visible chill crawl up my spine as I imagined dreaming about the bzzzzing noises and waking to find it somewhere on me or near me or on or near Buzzy. Bleck!!
Eventually my gramma discovered the thing's hiding place in the corner above my kitchen cupboards and sent it flying/crashing to the floor with one very well aimed and obviously experienced wack of the dish towel. MY HERO!! Buzzy and I were saved from the nasty evil mosquito monster who would surely choke us in our sleep.
And now that her good deed (ok, so she helped me clean my house and had done a million other fabulously selfless and beautiful things today for many people, but this was super necessary) was done she said a quick goodbye and fled through the front door, so as not to let anymore buggies in.
It wasn't 15 minutes later as I was pulling some Easter leftovers out of the refrigerator to share with Buzzy that I saw something on the floor moving in my peripheral vision. I looked over and saw a ginormous pincher (pincer?) bug meandering aimlessly across my kitchen floor, directly toward my bare feet. I freaked, once again which alarmed Buzzy who began to whine.
But this time gramma was not there to be my hero and save me. And Buzzy certainly wasn't going to be any help so I had to suck it up, gather my bearings, clear my mind and . . . I couldn't do it. I did, I'm sure, what looked like the PP dance along the edge of my kitchen where the carpet meets the tile, looking for something to kill the monstrous pinchy bug with. No more dish towel. (Gramma had thrown that in the trash with the mosquito guy's corpse) She had also seemed to toss every magazine and thick 'msshing' object I owned. I couldn't bare the thought of squishing this very crunchy looking bug with just some papertowels. I threw the paper towels over it and tried smashing it with my chopping board. Yes, I actually tried to smush this bug that truly was no bigger than my pinky fingernail with a 15x20 inch chopping board. However, he survived. And crawled right out from under the board, continuing on his mission across my kitchen floor.
After great debate (now that I think of it, I suppose I could have just used a shoe... duh) finally I decided on . . . a DIAPER!! Yay! I threw the diaper over the bug, held my breath, tried not to think about it. Tried to clear my mind but kept thinking (that has always been one of my problems) and eventually stepped on it, hard. Maybe ot was more like I jumped on it, with every ounce of my 6 month pregnant self? And Cruuuuunchhhh! There was that ever so visible chill that shivered its way up my back again. Bleckkk! I debated on not checking under the diaper. Decided I needed to know if my diaper massacre had been a success. Unsuccessfully trie to flip the diaper over with a spatula and finally, when no live bug had emerged I hesitantly lifted the diaper up with two tips of my acrylic nails to make sure the bug was dead. Yes, there was no way this bug had survived my aggressive stomp as its yellowish guts were everywhere. I breathed a great sigh of relief.
Yay! Mommy was Buzzy's hero! I saved my baby from the big ol pincher bug. (ssshhh, no one has to know she was a good 3-4 feet off the ground already in her high chair. Jeesh, give a girl some credit)
The End

Easter Photos

As promised, photos of Buzzy's first Easter!







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