Professional Baby Sitter.

We've been dog sitting the last couple days for this sweet little cupcake. Meet Houdini. He is a Great Dane/Mastiff mix, 8 weeks old, and we are IN LOVE. We're helping a neighbor out, which has been completely delightful.

House work, laundry, spring cleaning, home work, yard work, blogging, gardening.... I'm behind on it all.

That's what tomorrow is for. The house is tidy enough to "pass", and I plan on playing with my kids, and this pup, all day long.

This one's for the boy.

Here's to the other man in my life, my sweet little Ian. He turned SIX years old today. The party was a hit, and I am exhausted, but I could NOT resist posting at least a few pictures of the day.

Happy Birthday little one. You are more then any mother could ever want in a charming little boy. It's a treasure to have you as my son.

Pass with flying colors?

Yo Ladies.

My sweet little boy wanted a Ninga Turtle cake. This is the best that I could muster, my most valiant effort. Is it good enough? I'm counting on honest answers, and I need 'em fast. If this cake stinks, I still have time to buy one.

Bounce Back.

I love this kid. Ian drew me this picture months ago. He was going for "Mom", but his m's are upside down. Cute isn't it? I've got a busy rest-of-the-week ahead of me. It's Ian's birthday Friday. Today I have to pick the house up, work on the wash, shop for birthday gifts, and clean the car. Tomorrow I have to mow the lawn, pick up the yard, make Ian's Ninga Turtle cake, and take cup-cakes into Ian's afternoon Kindergarten class. Friday we get our tax rebate. Aside from putting money into savings, I get a tidy sum to shop around with as an extra Mother's Day gift. Ian's party is in the evening. We have a couple friends coming with their baby boy, one of Andrew's sister's family coming, complete with 7 (yes, you read that right) kids, and one grandpa should attend. We're having a slip-n-slide party, complete with a cook out! It should be a blast. I love throwing parties. More then any thing I love to spend the celebrating my little ones. Ian is one of my greatest treasures.

Here's the nursery. I'm not quite done Spring Cleaning in there, but it was clean enough to take pictures, so I did. Spring Cleaning is going to resume next week, I've got too much to do the next few days, so it's on the up-coming plans list. In this room we have a set of bunk beds and we're keeping the crib up. Olivia still sleeps in her crib, and as she grows more she'll move into the bunk. We're hoping for success in the conception-department with in the next few months, as it's nearly time to take my fertility drugs again, and we hope to fill that crib with a newborn next year.


Happy Wednesday-ing. I better get back to work.

Interesting, isn't it?

Project "fade out" is still in full force. Project fade out, as in the last chapter I'm allowing my "parents" to have in my life. It's the last chapter, actually, the one where they don't exist. I decided this was the year that I would finally decide "no more", and Mother's Day was a mile stone for me. I did nothing for Paula. She doesn't even deserve to be in the same sentence as the word "Mother". I hope it stung her a little. Stung her a little like her fist did my body. Stung her a little like her utter coldness stung my heart. I hope it hurt. I hope she feels a sad. Maybe lonely. Like I did all those years, when I wanted to die. Death was better then their imprisonment. I dreamed of being free, yet freedom continued, for years, to escape me.

I thought about my biological mother. Some one asked me the other day about her, if I felt sad for her. And I exclaimed "Why should I feel sad for her, I feel sad for MYSELF!". I don't feel badly for her that she misses my brother, sister, and I. I don't feel badly that she made this horrible bed for herself. Let her lay in it. It's NOT my problem. I feel "BAD" for myself. For real. I feel bad I never had a real mother. I didn't even know what a BED was. I didn't have enough to eat. I was frightened, scared, horrified. I feel BAD for myself.

Paula's mother has made a couple attempts to be in touch with me. And I found myself second guessing myself. Second guessing my decision about also removing ALL my "adoptive family" from my life, as well as my "adoptive parents". I found myself yearning for that taste of a "little more family". I want it. I always have. I've had this email from Paula's mother in my inbox for a week now. I deleted it this morning. The thought came to me recently, while I was toying with this idea, that while my adoptive grandmother has done me no wrong, I know she doesn't believe me. She doesn't, and neither do the others, believe that her daughter was a monster. She. Doesn't. Believe.Me. She wouldn't back me up, listen to me, hear me out. I don't need another person in my life, although she's a nice woman, to try to silence me. I am not about to walk down THAT road again.

Seriously, don't you think? Why bother.

Immeasurable.

It's hard for me to write with out tears. It's quiet in my home, it's late at night, and there's time to let my mind wander. Wander over the years that I have had the immeasurable blessing of becoming and growing into a mother. Words cannot express the depth that I love my children, how much I have treasured their lives - mine and theirs together. I cannot describe the miracle that takes place with in my body and soul when I have a child growing in my womb. I cannot explain how I love my children's voices when they tell me how much they love me. I cannot describe how motherhood has pushed me to the edge, exhausted me, broken me, fixed me. I cannot explain how I live for my children, that I have become every thing through them. I cannot explain the joy and yearning I feel to add on to our growing family, to experience the miracle of birth again. To my journey as a mother: the jagged one, the faltering one, the joyous one, the triumphant one, the loving one, the exhausting one.... To this journey, I want, with all my heart, to continue walking, running, leaping, crawling, each and every day of my life, with all that I am, and with all of the love I have to offer, I will and want to continue on as MOTHER.

Happy Mothers Day.

Love, Misty

Break it UP.

I'm having a love affair with these storage bins..... well... maybe not exactly, but they are taking up A LOT of my time. I worked yesterday morning on the laundry. I folded 4 loads initially. Then washed, folded, and put away two more.

I made an Ikea run yesterday with a girlfriend, hauling our children right a long with us... and let me tell you this: What a GREAT day for a break. Getting out of the house was just what I needed. I woke up feeling off, and I've am now a firm believer that all work and no play makes Misty a dull girl......er.... a raunchy, irritable, fussy, cranky-pants girl. Initially we canceled our trip, and on a whim decided to go any way. It was a blast. I'm glad we went. For sure.

We ordered pizza in last night. Tired-ness got the best of me. The children played in and outside last night, and I finished sorting the out-grown clothes into bins, and I'm proud to announce that I am almost done.

I never got to the Spring Cleaning for the nursery, so I "plan" (so maybe, maybe not) to get to that this morning. I've got to shower and pick up around the house, and then I've got an old friend coming to visit with her 4 children to play for the afternoon.

I guess I'll scoot and get started, and look forward to taking the weekend off from my much- needed-Spring-Cleaning. This is exactly why I've been putting off all these chores for 2 months. I guess I didn't really do myself any favors.