Brilliant.

    Barry was given a free pair of headphones… really nice Smith and Wesson brand, the kind you wear when you go shooting. For fun, Barry decided to give them to Grayson, and my son was thoroughly excited as Daddy explained what they are for.



    Just before bedtime, Jaye managed to cut her chin and the screaming was Oh. So. Pleasant. Grayson ran away. A few seconds later he came walking out of his room wearing the giant blue headphones, smiling. He was staring at Jaye, and said, “Huh. These really are great!”

I think he is on to something,  I should market these for parents.

WARNING: A very whiney complaining Krystle

     I. Am. In. Pain.

      I’ve had a sore pelvic area for pretty much most of this pregnancy, but these last few days have become unbearable. On a scale from one to ten, ten being- take me to the emergency room, I’m about a 7. It hurts to walk, it hurts to stand, it hurts to roll over while sleeping… Last night I even found myself wimpering in pain each time I had to roll over or get out of bed to go to the bathroom. Yesterday, at Walmart, I had to do some shopping, and slowly and miserably I waddled through the store. After purchasing my groceries, I went to the service desk up front to pick up something I had ordered online. The woman looked at my receipt and told me I had to pick it up at the photo lab at the back of the store. I started crying. The thought of walking that far was overwhelming. My mom wants me to go to the doctor, but since it’s Sunday, I looked up my issue online.



And guess what? Supposedly, this is “normal” and I just have to deal with it. I couldn’t even find any suggestions on how to ease the pain. There better be a darned cute baby coming from all this, because I seriously feel like I can’t do this for 19 more days.


There. That is the end of my complaining.

Out of the mouth of babes...

     Grayson had a fellow youngster over to our house for a play date. It happened to be laundry day… a RARE day at our house. Amongst the toys and various other floor "decoration", I had piles of dirty laundry in the hallway and clean folded piles in our living room. The little girl walked around in horror and asked, “Why is your house so dirty?!” Later on, she went to the bathroom, looked in the toilet, and said, “the inside of your toilet is really dirty. I don’t want to use it.”

Apparently… I seriously need to clean my house.

Ax Murderer music begin...

    The kids were in bed. It was dark out, and Barry and I were just snuggling into bed to watch a movie. All of the sudden I heard an eerie noise creeping toward our house. I asked Barry if he heard it, and, of course, he didn’t. A few seconds later, I could still hear the noise so I asked Barry to listen and finally he heard it. An ice cream truck was coming down our street… at NINE p.m.!!! You have no idea how chilling it is to hear that little kid music blasting through the darkness! The music passed our house and Barry and I were joking about how unsettling it was, when all of the sudden, the truck flipped a U right past our house, and started down the street… AGAIN!!!



    It sounds ridiculous, but this was totally one of those scenes in a horror movie! Or an action flick where the bad guys pop out and start shooting up the neighborhood. What kind of ice cream truck keeps going when it has been dark for over an hour? And what kind of sick parent would let their kid run out to get ice cream from a stranger in the darkness?! Barry said if the truck came back he was going to call the cops.


I couldn’t help but burst out laughing… Can you imagine that as an emergency call?


“Yes, would you please send an armed officer … there’s an ice cream truck outside of our house… and it’s creepy. “

Dear World, What's wrong with you?!?!

    I fell upon this blog called, “Mocha Dad”. Don’t ask me how I found it, I’m not even sure why I started reading it. But this blogger’s mission is to break the stereotypes for African American fathers and show how involved he is in the lives of his children- his words, not mine. This dad read an article about how, statistically, married couples who DON’T have kids are happier than those who DO have kids. Mocha Dad didn’t agree with the article, although he did admit that parenting isn’t always a happy route, but opened his blog up to discussion. I was pretty horrified with the comments, although I should be used to the views of the world by now. Here is one such comment:



     “All you "I wouldn't change a thing" parents are missing the point. What's important here is that a growing body of research shows that you are not as happy as you think you are. It's hard for you to see this because you lack perspective; you made the irreversible choice and now you have to tell yourself it's good. It's like having a bad tattoo. Those of us without kids experience higher levels of happiness for a more sustained period of time... our whole lives. If you don't tell yourself that "it was all worth it" you will be depressed. It's an illusion that you must maintain to justify the years of hard work it took to raise your kids.


     And another thing... most people that choose not to have kids are not fearful of their parenting abilities nor do they come from single-parent homes, at least not any more than those of you that do have kids. They simply know a path to lifelong happiness when they see one and don't crumble to long-standing generational pressures to continue lineage. So get off your high horses, moms and dads of the world. You're no great martyrs. You are empiracally less happy than those without kids, but you'll never understand why because your lives have been narrowed by the demands of child rearing.”


     Really?!? Is the decision to have kids really based on such selfish reasons? I don’t feel very happy about 60% of the day with my kids. I’m cleaning up messes, wiping bums, kissing boo-boos, refereeing fights… it’s messy business. But I am also learning humility,strength, compassion, charity, patience, sympathy, and most of all, love. I feel like in the end, I will be a much greater person than a childless version of myself could ever become. So the article may be right, I might not be as happy (at times) than those who chose not to “continue their lineage”, but in the end I believe I will find more satisfaction with myself than the childless could ever dream.

(For the record, my thoughts only apply to those married couples CHOOSING not to ever have kids. I understand that some couples can’t have kids and I believe those trials will make you just as strong as raising children.)

Do people think before they speak?

    It seems like now that I’m really starting to show, people are starting to notice my family more and more. Like the guy who saw me struggling to get both of my kids out of the car and told me we looked like a clown car, because the kids just kept on coming. Or the random comments at Walmart to me and Barry as our kids beg us for pennies for the donation vortex thing… “Wow, you really have your hands full!”



Or today…


     I was trying to kill some time so I took the kids to the “Family Dollar” store. Of course, the toy display is the first thing you see when you walk in, and immediately Grayson got the “I wanna’s!” He usually isn’t so whiney, but we kept him up LATE for the Fourth of July, so today was especially bad. Trying to evade an argument, I told him maybe we could get whatever he was showing me at the moment, for his upcoming birthday.


That didn’t work.


     He started pouting, and dragging his feet, and trying to hide in the clothes rack, or just yell, “PLEASE MOMMY! I WANT IT!” Jaye is also trying to exercise her independence by walking, so she was fighting to stand up in the cart. I would make her sit down and she would start whining and stand up in defiance- over and over and over. One of the workers came up to me after studying my kids, then asked (in a very judgmental tone), “When’s the next one coming?” I politely answered: August 12.


And the woman started laughing at me. It was one of those cackles where you can just hear her brain saying, “Good luck, lady!”


     I was kind of embarrassed. I got in the car in a bit of a huff and was giving myself the pep talk- I know three kids will be hard, but I can do it! I felt like the Little Engine that Could. Then I got home to the pile of dishes, and the mountains of laundry, and the mess of a house… and I got a little worried.


    But today, the kids had combed hair, matching clothes, shoes on the right feet (without socks, though) and I even managed to feed and bath them... so maybe there’s hope for me after all.

Doc Appt.

     Today at my Doctor’s appointment, the nurse told me she was concerned because there was sugar in my urine. She asked if I had anything sugary for breakfast, and I just started laughing. Last night I hosted a baby shower… with a dessert bar… and boy howdy, did I have at those desserts! I explained that to her, and she started laughing. Then she asked my permission to write that on my chart because she thought the doctor would get a kick out of it: “Excessive desserts last night.” For some reason, that sounds so rebellious: excessive desserts.



    Also, my Doctor asked me when we had scheduled my C-section and I told him August 9th. Then his smile faded and he said, “Oh no…” Something you NEVER want to hear come out of a doctor’s mouth. He told me that he was going to Columbia at that time and wouldn’t be able to do the surgery.


“OH NO!” indeed!


     This is the doctor who delivered both of my other babies! And his replacement doctor is the only one I reeeeally DON’T like! “Or,” he finally added as I was sinking into stressful despair... I could wait until the 12th when he will be back … a whole three days after our original date.


I can handle that.