<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600</id><updated>2012-02-16T03:40:01.241-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mean Beans and Coleslaw</title><subtitle type='html'>Mostly musings about motherhood with plenty of stories about my insanely funny kids thrown in.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>41</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-4620864887843832379</id><published>2009-11-03T13:32:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-03T14:06:35.010-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I can't believe I haven't done anything with this since June!  I swear it was just yesterday that I was trying to find time to put Velcro Baby down and post.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Well, a lot has happened since my last update.  Velcro Baby will be 7 months old in a few days, The Nut is a second grader, and Frito is potty training.   And a lot has stayed the same.  Velcro Baby still demands a lot of attention, The Nut is still getting in trouble in school and Frito is still in the 'Terrible Twos."  Of course, the DEGREES of sameness are different.  VB likes to get down on the floor and explore and find things to choke on, The Nut doesn't get in trouble NEARLY as much as she used to and Frito isn't *quite* as terrible as she was a few months ago.   And we are still calling the FEMA trailer home, unfortunately.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;With VB we did find one reason for her to be so fussy and such a restless sleeper-----she was diagnosed with eczema at 5 months old.  I can't tell you how awful I feel that my *fussy* baby was most likely in a lot of pain with severe itches that she couldn't scratch.  :o(  We changed detergents, keep her slathered in Vaseline and use cortisone cream when it gets too bad but we're sort of stumbling through finding what works and what makes it worse.   She gets SO tired and wants to go to sleep so bad but the itchiness keeps her awake so I'll start rubbing her *hot spots* and her little eyes roll back in her head and she starts to settle down.  It's very sad and many nights I just keep rubbing and trying different spots and whispering, "I'm so sorry" to her as she cries and tries to sleep.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;She also isn't what I'd call an easy teether.  Her 2 bottom teeth are in and the 2 top are just starting to poke through and it's very difficult to tell if her fussiness and unease are due to the eczema, teething or both.  I hate not knowing HOW to make her feel better and I pray that she's one of the lucky ones who outgrow their eczema issues.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The Nut is growing so fast.  I told TGTBT the other day that sometimes I forget that she was that baby who was our world for almost 5 years before Frito came along.  I forget that the kid with the attitude is the same child who was such an amazing toddler who captured hearts everywhere we went.  It seems impossible that this kid who comes storming in to raid the fridge and toss her backpack on the couch is the same baby we used to kiss and cuddle and who made our life MEAN something.   I now understand the heartbreak I would hear in other mothers' voices when they'd ask, "Where did my baby go?"  It very much seems like the film just stopped and somebody put in the second reel of a completely different movie.   I've come to realize that the yearning for another baby as your children grow isn't that you want ANOTHER baby.  You want YOUR baby back.  It's an uneasy alliance with this stranger and there's a bit of resentment that they *took* your baby.  It's a very odd feeling and one that I don't care for very much.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Frito seems to have outgrown the taking off the diaper and playing with poop phase.  About a month ago she came down with what we think (in hindsight) was rotovirus and I was going through diapers like you wouldn't believe because of the diarrhea.  I said, "Next time you need to poop let me know and you can go on the potty."  Sure enough, she almost immediately started saying, "Poo poo, potty!" so we ran over there and she went!  Several times.  It was diarrhea, after all.  Since then we haven't been pushing it but have been taking her when she wants to go and she still doesn't have the timing just right as she always wants to try AFTER she's just gone in the diaper.  But it looks like once we get that worked out she'll be an easy trainer like The Nut was.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;As for the house, we've been having one issue after another that's pushed the move-in date back further and further.  Every time we think we're getting so close some other bump in the road appears and we have to stop the car, get out to evaluate the situation and devise a new route to get us back on the right path.   TGTBT is at his breaking point, I think.  He's done so well with everything but he's SO fed up with people who don't know how to run their business, do quality work or keep their word that he's really rethinking our choice to stay and rebuild.  Up to this point we've been saying that everything we went through will be worth it once we're back inside OUR house and it's just the way we want it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I think we both now feel that we don't really care.  I always thought that looking at my new kitchen cabinets built exactly the way I wanted them would make me feel pride and a sense of satisfaction.  Lately I've had this scary feeling that instead they'll just be a constant reminder of WHY we were out of the house so long and that I'll hate them for that.  Walking into our newly done bedroom may not feel like a sanctuary and a retreat just for us.  It may just signal the stark difference between that and how we've lived for the past year and add to the stress instead of melt it away.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Well, nothing to snap you out of a philosophical funk like a 2-year old in her crib crying, "Mama!  Help me!  Help me!"   I guess she has bigger problems than I do right now so let me go see what I can do to fix them.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-4620864887843832379?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/4620864887843832379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/11/wow.html#comment-form' title='37 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/4620864887843832379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/4620864887843832379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/11/wow.html' title='Wow!'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>37</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-2637269198037151195</id><published>2009-06-16T12:41:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T12:43:36.083-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Culinary Skillz</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The Nut fixed herself a sandwich.  Picture it----hamburger bun, mustard, ham, lettuce.  Not too shabby.  What did she add to put it over the top fantastic?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Grape jelly.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;She ate it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;She liked it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;She can't be my child.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-2637269198037151195?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2637269198037151195/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/06/culinary-skillz.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/2637269198037151195'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/2637269198037151195'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/06/culinary-skillz.html' title='Culinary Skillz'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-8963094428736402775</id><published>2009-06-15T01:11:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T01:37:37.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Parents Just Don't Understand!!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I thought we had a few more years before we got to that phase.  Our neighbors had a crawfish boil yesterday and TGTBT and The Nut spent some time over there.  I tried all day to get dressed to go but velcro baby was having none of it.  Later that evening The Nut walked in front of me all sullen looking.  I asked what was wrong.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"Sigh----I really wanted to keep that crawfish but Daddy wouldn't let me."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;TGTBT pipes up.  "It was dead, Peanut."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"I know!  I didn't want a live one because it would pinch me!"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"Well, you can't keep a dead crawfish because it'll start to stink."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"That's better than it pinching me!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So TGTBT and I are talking over each other giving her reasons why keeping a dead crawfish isn't a good idea and she lets out an exasperated sigh and stomps off to her room saying, "You guys just don't understand!"  And she slammed her door for good measure.  Six years old.  I told TGTBT that I can't imagine what's in store for us when PMS hits.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;TGTBT has been shuffling around and going through lots of frozen peas the past few days.  I also caught him with my broccoli florets so there goes my plans for chicken fried rice.  I ask him every half hour or so if he has any regrets yet and he always says 'no' so that's good.  It's still hard for me to fathom the idea of no more babies.  Ever.  I still don't think it's really sunk in and I doubt it will until I start getting baby fever.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I suppose I'm just not used to making decisions based on logic only.  I usually weigh things by giving about 50% to logic and 50% to emotions or gut feelings.  In this case my emotions say there's a very good possibility I/we will want more kids down the line but the logic screams that 3 is enough.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I just need to keep picturing family vacations in about 3 years with no infants.  And no more waking 3-4 times at night to nurse.  And no more buying diapers.  And no more packing the entire dresser in the diaper bag just to run to the store.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;And no more kicks in my belly.  And no more meeting someone so new yet so familiar.  And no more tiny fuzzy heads on my shoulder.  And no more losing myself in baby blue eyes while I nurse.  And no more cuddling up against a small warm body while I sleep. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;And now, no more wistful thoughts.  I'm off to go cuddle up against a small warm body and go to sleep.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-8963094428736402775?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/8963094428736402775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/06/parents-just-dont-understand.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/8963094428736402775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/8963094428736402775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/06/parents-just-dont-understand.html' title='Parents Just Don&apos;t Understand!!!!'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-2291927471605545201</id><published>2009-06-12T12:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T12:25:57.466-05:00</updated><title type='text'>TGTBT Has Gone and Done it.........</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;this morning he had the Big V.  Our childbearing years are now most definitely over.  I've been pretty ambivalent about it but now that it's done I feel relief.  We can now move on to the next stage in our life which is exciting.  He's staying at his father's house today and tonight so that he doesn't have to deal with kids running around and possibly jumping on him while he recovers.  I'm sure that by the time he gets home tomorrow I'll be totally over the thought of ever wanting any more kids.  :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yesterday my mother and sister were visiting and they wanted to see the changes we've made to the house so far.  So I finished nursing the baby and stood up and started to usher them outside.  I began tugging on the bottom of my shirt to make sure it was pulled down and my tummy wasn't showing as there are workers crawling all over the place inside the house.  About the time my sister piped up and said something I felt the breeze.  I was wearing a nursing tank under my shirt and was so concerned about making sure it was down over my belly that I left my boob hanging completely out.  Like my sister said, I've spent the better part of the past 2 years nursing babies so it seems much more natural to me to have my boobs uncovered.  TGTBT is a fan of nursing for that reason.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Anyway, I'm in sort of a 'blah' mood today and I'm having trouble thinking of funny things the kids have done lately so I'm signing out now.  This is probably the quietest and calmest it'll be over here for the next couple of days and I don't want to waste it by "working."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;One last note though before I go.  My aunt was in a bad car accident a few days ago and is in critical condition.  She has multiple injuries and some extenuating circumstances that make it difficult to treat her the way they normally would.  I'd appreciate it if you would keep her in your thoughts and prayers.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-2291927471605545201?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2291927471605545201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/06/tgtbt-has-gone-and-done-it.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/2291927471605545201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/2291927471605545201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/06/tgtbt-has-gone-and-done-it.html' title='TGTBT Has Gone and Done it.........'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-257945453989634082</id><published>2009-06-02T09:13:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-02T09:40:04.528-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yesterday was AWESOME!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Not really, no.  Night before last was pretty hectic with the baby so the kitchen didn't get cleaned and both sinks were stacked sky high with dishes.  I also didn't get to take a bath so I was already in a foul mood when I woke up.  I played with the baby for a while and then realized that she had peed out of her diaper and her pajamas smelled like old dry pee.  Which meant I now smelled like old dry pee.  On top of my self-generated filth.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So I stumbled into the kitchen and eyed the filth in there and was trying to figure out which filthiness I wanted to tackle first---kitchen or myself---when TGTBT comes in from the house and says, "FYI, the plumbers are about to turn off the water."  Niiiiiiiiiiice.  All I have to say is it's a good thing I'm a lackadaisical housekeeper and dirty dishes don't drive me up the wall AND that TGTBT has a sinus infection and can't smell anything right now.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Later that afternoon Frito added to the fun.  I was getting ready to lay the baby down for a nap and she was ALMOST asleep in my arms when Frito threw a blanket over her head and started shuffling around moaning like a ghost.  She walked over to me and lifted the blanket and said, "Boo!"  She no longer says, "Bah."  :o(  We 'boo'd' back and forth at each other a few times and then she pulled the blanket back down over her head and turned to walk away.  She stepped on the blanket and went face first into the coffee table.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;She screams and cries which scares the heck out of the baby so SHE'S screaming and crying and I'm trying to calm them both down when blood starts pouring out of Frito's mouth.  I tossed the baby (not really----I laid her gently down) onto the couch and call TGTBT's cell phone to tell him to get in here ASAP.  Frito wouldn't let me look inside her mouth to see how badly she was hurt and I'm picturing the worst and an emergency trip to the dentist.  TGTBT comes in and is pretty much useless because his hands are covered in grime from working in the house and we have no WATER to wash them.  All this time both girls are screaming their heads off.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;TGTBT finally just uses his dirty thumb to lift Frito's upper lip and he says, "Hey, look at this."  I look.  And my body temperature raises about 100 degrees and I start to feel woozy.  I actually have to lay my head in my hand and I tell TGTBT that I'm about to pass out.  Somehow, the inside of her upper lip, the area where the cleft is that's between the nose and upper lip, is STUCK between her two front teeth.  TGTBT asks me why I'm about to pass out and I start to cry, "Because my baby's LIP is stuck between her TEETH and she's BLEEDING!"  Did I mention that I'm a big ol' whimp when it comes to my kids getting hurt?  Yeah, I have.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Now Frito's not crying anymore and she's looking very confused.  She looks at me and then at TGTBT and points at me as she babbles as if to say, "What the heck's HER problem?"  I try to compose myself to not upset her and after a few minutes the blood stops and she goes back to sucking her thumb and running around playing.  I, however, have had multiple panic attacks every time I picture what happened.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I guess it's a good thing we had all girls because from what I hear, little boys pretty much have a new injury every day to deal with.  Maybe someone who knows better than I knew I couldn't handle it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-257945453989634082?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/257945453989634082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/06/yesterday-was-awesome.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/257945453989634082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/257945453989634082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/06/yesterday-was-awesome.html' title='Yesterday was AWESOME!'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-7339853983369853650</id><published>2009-05-28T15:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T15:37:30.839-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Zero Tolerance = No Common Sense</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I am so irritated right now.  I am just fed up with the public school system.  EVERYTHING has to be made an issue and there's no more "let's call the parents and let them handle it."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I got a call from the principal today telling me to come get The Nut because she was hugging and kissing a boy on the field during P.E.  He also said that she's suspended tomorrow which is the last day of school.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Ok.  These kids are six.  It's not like they were frenching each other.  If anything it was a peck or two MAYBE on the lips but most likely on the cheek.  At any rate, they're SIX.  Does it really require a suspension?   Can they not see the difference between 2 sixteen year olds kissing in an empty classroom and 2 six year olds pecking on the field during P.E.?  One scenario is serious and the other is innocent.  In fact, not too long ago adults would giggle at 2 six year olds kissing and would maybe even take pictures.  GASP.  Now it's grounds for disciplinary action.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;@@   &lt;----------That's me rolling my eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I wish I could homeschool but I know my limitations.  Too bad we don't live next door to a retired teacher who loves kids and wants a little extra income.  I just don't see things getting any better over the next 11 years.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-7339853983369853650?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/7339853983369853650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/05/zero-tolerance-no-common-sense.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/7339853983369853650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/7339853983369853650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/05/zero-tolerance-no-common-sense.html' title='Zero Tolerance = No Common Sense'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-5107036403476679008</id><published>2009-05-23T13:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-23T13:07:34.678-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Technical Difficulties</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The Nut just came up to me and told me she couldn't get the apple juice machine to work.  I was confused until I went into the kitchen.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I recently bought a pitcher to put the apple juice in since we buy the giant one gallon glass containers of juice.  This was the first time she used the pitcher and didn't know she had to turn the lid so the open part was lined up with the pour spout.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Apple juice machine, LOL.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-5107036403476679008?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/5107036403476679008/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/05/technical-difficulties.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/5107036403476679008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/5107036403476679008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/05/technical-difficulties.html' title='Technical Difficulties'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-4906875383027991833</id><published>2009-05-17T10:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T10:57:06.638-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Don't Report Us For Neglect</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;My sister wanted me to post what happened recently.  For background, The Nut and Frito are both pale white with blond hair and light eyes.  My sister's husband is Mexican and their little girl, I'll call her "A," takes after him.  She and The Nut are only 4 months apart so they're very close.  The other day The Nut came out of her room with 2 sock puppets she had made and asked me if I could guess which one was "A."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/ShAy_yCJ9WI/AAAAAAAAABY/gJD8sXVapHk/s1600-h/sock+puppets.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336821629777999202" style="WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/ShAy_yCJ9WI/AAAAAAAAABY/gJD8sXVapHk/s320/sock+puppets.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I feel SO bad about not posting in so long. The problem is that I have a velcro baby and it's extremely hard to type one-handed. My email replies average about 1 sentence lately and I can't be held responsible for typos. Luckily, she stayed asleep this morning when we rolled out of bed so I'm able to update. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;She generally only sleeps soundly if I'm uncomfortable. She likes to be pressed right up against me with my boob either in her mouth or at least resting on her cheek. That means I have to be curled up around her with one arm flung over her head and I have to be STILL. That one arm starts to freeze up AND just freeze since I'd have to put a blanket over her head to cover it up. So I don't sleep well and then I hurt when I wake up. Good times.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;This morning The Nut was up first and she asked if we wanted her to get Frito out of the crib when we heard her stirring around. So they were up for some time while we dozed. Then The Nut came back in to tell us that Frito had taken off her diaper. Instead of getting up and taking care of it TGTBT asks her to please put another diaper on The Nut. So off she goes. We can hear her struggling with Frito and Frito is squealing and fighting back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Now, good parents would have gotten up then and taken over. REALLY good parents wouldn't have made their 6 year old take care of the 2 year old in the first place. Being just mediocre parents, we laid in bed and giggled at the sounds of the drama. Then we heard The Nut say, "There! She won't get that diaper off now!" And she giggled. All I could picture was Frito walking around covered in scotch tape. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Frito came and climbed into bed and I saw that The Nut, genius that she is, had put the diaper on her backwards. I looked at TGTBT and he looked at me and then shrugged and said, "Hey, if it holds everything in and stays on, who cares?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;When she got dressed she put her shirt on backwards too. She's just keeping with the theme.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-4906875383027991833?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/4906875383027991833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/05/dont-report-us-for-neglect.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/4906875383027991833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/4906875383027991833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/05/dont-report-us-for-neglect.html' title='Don&apos;t Report Us For Neglect'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/ShAy_yCJ9WI/AAAAAAAAABY/gJD8sXVapHk/s72-c/sock+puppets.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-1126413971599388358</id><published>2009-04-30T14:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T15:51:09.958-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can't Stop Sweating!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I'm sure it's some combination of hormonal changes and having a warm cuddly newborn on me at all times but I feel like I'm ALWAYS sweating.  It's disgusting.  What's even worse is that I rarely have time for a bath anyway so I stay filthy all day and get a 5-10 minute bath before bed while TGTBT keeps the baby occupied.  I couldn't wait to have the baby so that I could shave my legs and do, ahem, other maintenence, but since I barely have time to do the absolute bare minimum that's pretty much off the table.  And people wonder why new moms sometimes go through a depression and "let" themselves go to pot.  I love the men who complain about how their wives never put on makeup anymore and wear sweatsuits all the time after the baby.  We don't have a choice!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I do sometimes feel resentful that 99 times out of 100 the man's life hardly changes at all after a new baby.  They still go to work, run their errands when they want to and TELL their wife when they have something planned as opposed to the mom who literally loses herself in the new baby.  There's not a thing about my life that's the same as it was 4 weeks ago.  My time is not my time, my body is not my body and, quite literally, my life is not my life anymore.  This isn't my first go-round so you'd think I'd be used to this phase and it would be old hat but it doesn't get any easier.  In fact, with the older kids to deal with also it gets harder each time.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Now, the above paragraph isn't necessarily about TGTBT as he does everything possible to help and encourages me to take time for myself.  I do get a little bent out of shape that he doesn't seem to realize that I CAN'T.  He suggested I go to Walmart by myself last night just to get out of the house and Frito needed diapers.  The baby hadn't napped all day and had just fallen asleep on me and she needed to sleep.  I couldn't just up and disturb her and drag her out when she was so tired.  He said he'd keep her and I should go by myself.  That won't work either because I'd imagine her crying as soon as I pulled out of the driveway and I'd get anxious and all worked up trying to hurry and get back to take care of her.  In my defense she honestly doesn't stay asleep unless she's on me so the above scenario is a given.  So he tries to help, but...... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I did get out this morning with Frito and the baby to go to Walmart and it wasn't that bad.  The worst part, of course, was the sweating because I had the baby in the Mai Tei all bundled up against me and I was just dripping sweat.  But other than that it wasn't too bad at all for my first trip out with more than one kid by myself.  My mom is coming tomorrow to go grocery shopping with me because that's something there's no way I could do by myself with the baby and Frito.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Anyway!  I need to get to wash clothes.  I forgot how much more laundry a tiny baby means!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-1126413971599388358?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/1126413971599388358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-cant-stop-sweating.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/1126413971599388358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/1126413971599388358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-cant-stop-sweating.html' title='I Can&apos;t Stop Sweating!'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-308978298501618358</id><published>2009-04-23T16:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-23T16:57:35.728-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I survived!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yesterday couldn't have gone any more smoothly.  The girls slept until 11 and Frito was very well behaved and the baby did a lot of napping and let me put her down a lot more than usual.  Of course, my mother was also here from 1:30 until about 7:30 so the kids made me look like a liar by being so good.  My mother cooked us a big supper and helped wrangle Frito throughout the day and held the baby some and I got a lot of laundry done.  By done, I mean REALLY done.  Folded and put up and everything.  We've been living out of baskets for so long that it feels good to have that accomplished.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The Nut's teacher called TGTBT at work yesterday to let us know that The Nut has been really acting up these past 2 weeks.  Gee, I wonder what could be going on in her life that's making her act up.......for 2 weeks now.........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So when she got home I asked her why she thought she was getting into trouble in school and she said, "Because I'm bad."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"Ok, but WHY are you being bad?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"My mind is just out of control!"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Like my mom said, you KNOW she's heard that from a teacher before.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Today has gone pretty smoothly also and I decided to try to go it alone.  So far the only conflict has been when I was trying to nurse the baby back to sleep and Frito was crying in her crib for me.  It's so hard not being able to jump up and take care of her like I used to/want to.  She doesn't seem to be any the worse for wear though and loves on the baby every chance she gets.  Of course, she also tries to take her from me to put her in the swing so we have to watch that but it could be worse!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-308978298501618358?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/308978298501618358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-survived.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/308978298501618358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/308978298501618358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-survived.html' title='I survived!'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-5978291592683950429</id><published>2009-04-21T09:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-21T09:35:01.448-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All That Drama</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;for nothing.  TGTBT decided late last night to NOT go in to work today because he had a few more things he wanted to finish on the house and meet with the contractor again to tie up a few loose ends.  So I have one more day to deal with the anxiety and freak out.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;And I do believe I am a swaddling convert.  I used a Halo blanket last night for the first time and she seems to stay much more settled.  In fact, she's now napping in the swing all swaddled up.  She actually didn't sleep as well last night as she did the night before but I think the night before was an anomaly.  She slept 6 hours straight Sunday night.  Last night she slept in 3 hour stretches.  I'm happy with 3 hour stretches.  But she seemed to be easier to get back to sleep last night and didn't really move around and get fidgety.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I never swaddled my first two.  The Nut slept through the night at about 2 weeks and by about 3 weeks she was sleeping 8 hours straight.  Frito probably could have benefitted from being swaddled but it was just something I never really thought about trying.  But if it works, it works!  And they look so darn cute all bundled up like a burrito.  :o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-5978291592683950429?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/5978291592683950429/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/all-that-drama.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/5978291592683950429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/5978291592683950429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/all-that-drama.html' title='All That Drama'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-7401064086409461331</id><published>2009-04-20T19:41:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T20:11:33.828-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Freaking Out!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;TGTBT goes back to work tomorrow.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Enough said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The baby (still don't have a nickname----I keep saying I'm going to call her Won Ton since she looks Chinese) sleeps well at night but for some reason is HARD to get down during the day.  At night she sleeps next to me and will fall asleep nursing and that's that.  During the day she falls asleep nursing but when I lay her down she wakes up within about 5 minutes.  She'll sleep for hours in my arms or on my chest but that's about it.  Which means I wind up sitting almost all day because I know if I put her down she'll cry and then I'll have to go through the whole process of getting her to fall asleep again.  I wouldn't even mind that so much if I didn't also have an almost 24-month old to deal with.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So TGTBT has been taking care of EVERYTHING since all I'm good for lately is sitting and nursing.  The times he's been gone and I've had to put the baby down to deal with Frito have been very stressful because nothing sends me through the roof like a crying baby.  Not that it's irritating------I just have an overwhelming need for my babies to NOT cry.  It breaks my heart.  They sound so pitiful and I just want to make it STOP!  Today I had to give Frito a bath and TGTBT was tied up with FEMA people so I put the baby in her bouncer and gave Frito the fastest bath in history and then she was upset because she didn't get to play in the tub so I had to listen to BOTH of my babies wailing and I was near tears myself.  Thank goodness The Nut was in school because if she'd have joined in I'd have lost it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Speaking of The Nut, today was her first day riding the bus to and from school this year.  She was very excited.  There was just no way I could see bringing her to and from school now that the baby's here.  You have to sit in line for up to a half hour sometimes and the baby isn't overly fond of being in the carseat so this is best all around.  Hopefully Frito and the baby will sleep through me getting The Nut ready and on the bus in the mornings so that I don't have to try to handle both of them starting at 6:30 in the morning.  TGTBT doesn't get home until about 6:30 in the evening so 12 hours of a newborn and a 2 year old would do me in.  I know it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Frito has developed a taste for Desitin.  I caught her eating a tube of it a few days ago, read the warnings on seeking medical attention ASAP and was freaking out because it was just me, her and the baby.  I didn't think she'd eaten very much because it looked like she was digging out what was in the cap.  I smelled her breath and it still smelled like cinnamon from breakfast so I decided she was fine.  Then yesterday TGTBT caught her with an almost empty tube of it and it was smeared on her chin.  We had no idea how much she'd eaten and her breath smelled a little like it.  I hopped online and was reassured that it would actually be difficult to "overdose" on it so we just watched her and she was fine.  Later that afternoon TGTBT caught her eating shampoo.  We try to keep everything out of reach but she's at that age where she could probably construct a rocket to get at what she wants.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The Nut spent last weekend at her grandpa's and TGTBT and I got in her pig sty and cleaned it top to bottom.  She called and I told her what we'd done and she sighed and said, "Oh, great.  Did you clean out from under my bed too?"  "Yes we did and it was filthy under there."  ---sigh---"Oh, great.  I had things just how I wanted them under there!"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Well, I've been on edge all evening anticipating what tomorrow's going to bring.  I'm afraid to start our nighttime routine because it feels like the end.  Once I go to bed I'm going to wake up in a whole new world and I'm not sure I'm ready for it.  Part of me just wants to fast-forward through the next 3 months or so to when it'll be easier.  And people actually PLAN and WANT to have kids this close together?!  I just keep thinking of my sisters who each have had very stressful newborn periods for different reasons.  They survived it and I suppose I will too.  I just may need to have 5 minutes every day when TGTBT gets home to lock myself in the bathroom for a good cry.  I'm sure he won't mind.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-7401064086409461331?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/7401064086409461331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/im-freaking-out.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/7401064086409461331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/7401064086409461331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/im-freaking-out.html' title='I&apos;m Freaking Out!!!'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-3035136365276190524</id><published>2009-04-14T10:36:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T10:53:05.220-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Was He THINKING??!!   TWICE!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;If you tend to curse me, at least in your head, for all of my posts bragging on TGTBT, you may want to read this. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yesterday TGTBT got up to get The Nut ready for school. He leaves the bedroom door (where I'm sleeping with Baby Girl) wide open so we're hearing everything going on and Baby Girl is jumping every time The Nut coughs. Then we get treated to an argument about why The Nut can't ride the bus just yet. I have Baby Girl on my chest so I can't even yell at TGTBT to tell him to pipe down. In a moment of brilliance I grab my cell phone and send him a text----&lt;em&gt;Shut BR door please and/or turn on fan.&lt;/em&gt; In a moment of decidedly NON-brilliance, he texts me back an answer...........seriously. He leaned in to shut the door and whispered, "I texted you back, catch it" just as my phone rang and Baby Girl jumped again. -----sigh-----&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Last night was even better. The Nut was in the bath and I was nursing Baby Girl. TGTBT gets Frito into her night-night diaper and pajamas and then heads outside. I had just mentioned that I needed to wash clothes so I assumed that's what he was doing and I expected him back inside any minute. I waited and waited and no TGTBT. By now The Nut is out of the bathroom, buck naked and dripping wet and keeps trying to sit on the couch to watch tv. Frito is standing in front of the coffee table and chunking all the freshly folded clothes over her shoulders. I can't yell because of Baby Girl on me nursing and dozing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I'm doing the best I can while cursing TGTBT in my head and I can feel a nervous breakdown coming. Next thing I know I hear a zipper and in a flash Frito is pj-less. I tell The Nut to lean out the door and holler for Dad. She does and we give it a few minutes and still no TGTBT. Then Frito is diaper-less. I tell The Nut to holler louder. Nada. This time I tell her to yell as loudly as she can, "Daddy! Mommy needs you!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;In a minute the door opens and TGTBT walks in just as Frito, without a stitch on, goes streaking by in front of him laughing and squealing. The Nut is on the couch with wet hair dripping everywhere. Clean clothes are spread all over the dirty floor and I'm shooting daggers at him with my eyes. And he has the gall to look angry that we called him into the house. He defensively says, "I was in the middle of something" when I grill him on where he was and on WHAT possessed him to leave the house and start working on something right at the time we're getting the girls ready for bed. I felt bad because almost everything has been on his shoulders this past week, but come on! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So he swoops in and saves the day and by the time he came out of Frito's room he was pretty sheepish and apologetic. I just felt so helpless watching everything fall apart in front of me but knowing if I set the baby down she'd start wailing and add to the chaos so I just had to sit there and take it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;What am I going to do when he goes back to work?????&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-3035136365276190524?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/3035136365276190524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-was-he-thinking-twice.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/3035136365276190524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/3035136365276190524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/what-was-he-thinking-twice.html' title='What Was He THINKING??!!   TWICE!!'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-7620799376275539734</id><published>2009-04-13T10:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T10:25:53.153-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleep, Poop, Eat-----Rinse and Repeat.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Life with a newborn.  Ah.  Nothing quite so sweet or so time-consuming.  Whenever she's been on me non-stop for 2 hours and I'm itching to get up and take care of things around here I stop and remind myself that her fuzzy head will soon be too big to fit "just right" in the crook of my neck.  Before long her tiny body won't be able to fold into a ball on my chest while she sleeps.  She'll lose that fresh newborn scent all too soon and take on the smell of baby lotion and spit-up.  When I lift her to adjust her position she won't do that move where she stretches her arms and back with pursed lips while her legs are froggied up to her body.  And saddest of all, in no time she'll have nursing down and I won't feel those sweet soft lips pecking all over my neck and face searching for a nipple.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;We're 99% sure this is our last journey into newborn territory and I want to savor every minute.  It's kind of hard to savor a fussy baby who is awake from 3-7 AM, sore nipples where the scabs keep being sucked off, sore back and arms from having to hold myself JUST SO lest she be disturbed and want to latch on to fall back asleep, having to postpone bathroom trips until the perfect moment to set her down and run and hope she doesn't squall before you can make it back and countless other "inconveniences" you tend to forget about once they're out of this stage.  But I'm trying.  I've been through it twice before and know all too well how quickly this passes and my uterus begins to twitch at the thought of that fuzzy head nestled into my neck.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;We're going for the newborn screen today which means a heel stick.  My usual role is to hand the baby off to TGTBT to hold while I stand in the hallway crying and trying not to throw up.  I think I'm going to man up this time and try to nurse her through it.  If I can handle this it'll be more proof of a woman's strength than even going through labor and childbirth.  That's just physical pain.  Hearing your baby cry while someone jabs a needle into that silken skin rips your heart out and you die a little inside.  At least I do.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;On to better thoughts!  Little Miss (don't get attached----that surely won't stick as a permanent nickname because there are no foodstuffs involved) slept in 2.5 hour stretches last night which means I not only feel human this morning, I'm a veritable font of energy!  LOL  We went to bed at midnight and were up at 3, 6 and for the day at 9.  Compared to the last few nights it was like a week at the spa.  Last night we nursed on one side, checked for dirty diaper and then nursed on the other until she fell asleep.  Apparently her stomach holds more at this age than my other girls' because they'd nurse one boob at a time and fall asleep for hours.  Now that I know she needs something different I'm hoping this continues to work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I need to get dressed for the torture/trauma I have to endure.  I say "I" because I know it'll be way worse on me than on her.  She'll be fine as soon as it's over while I'll think about it and cry for days.  And Lord help me when it comes time to have her extra pinkies removed.  That right there is another of TGTBT's flaws, I suppose.  Not that it's his fault he carries that gene but it does mean all our babies need minor surgery.  The Nut's were removed at 3 months and Frito's at 5 months so sometime this summer you'll be able to read all about it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;For pics, click on the link to "Leesha'sPhotography" to the right.  She came yesterday and we had a photo shoot and some of the pics are on her blog.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-7620799376275539734?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/7620799376275539734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/sleep-poop-eat-rinse-and-repeat.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/7620799376275539734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/7620799376275539734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/sleep-poop-eat-rinse-and-repeat.html' title='Sleep, Poop, Eat-----Rinse and Repeat.'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-2562353091051633949</id><published>2009-04-09T10:01:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T15:19:47.143-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Countdown to Baby is Over</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yep. I wasn't pregnant forever! Precious baby girl number 3 made her grand entrance in the wee hours of the morning April 7th. We don't have an official nickname for her yet and I suppose we should stick to the food theme though that theme was unintentional initially. She fell smack dab in the middle of The Nut and Frito a far as birth stats go. 8 lbs. 13 oz. and 21.5 inches long. Her birth was only slightly longer than Frito's but was WAY calmer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So, I NEED warm water to labor in for the pain relief. We bought a baby pool to set up in the FEMA trailer but realized a few days ago that it wouldn't work because it would take forever to fill so we couldn't wait until I went into labor and we couldn't fill it and wait because there was no way to keep the water warm. So TGTBT went into "fix it" mode and starting running around trying to find something suitable. I figured we'd just make do with the tiny tub and I'd get through it somehow. My sister decided to look around on her own and hit the jackpot at Academy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.academy.com/index.php?page=content&amp;amp;target=products/outdoors/pool/pools&amp;amp;start=8&amp;amp;zoom=1&amp;amp;selectedSKU=0106-40860-0001"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;http://www.academy.com/index.php?page=content&amp;amp;target=products/outdoors/pool/pools&amp;amp;start=8&amp;amp;zoom=1&amp;amp;selectedSKU=0106-40860-0001&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So TGTBT set it up late Sunday night and he did it redneck style. He had a piece of flexible liquid tight electrical conduit duct taped to a piece of rigid electrical conduit that was attached to the kitchen sink using a small PVC elbow. That contraption rested on the back of a kitchen chair as it drained into the spa. It was his crowning moment in improvisation. He was so proud. I actually hopped in it that night and floated around and relaxed while we watched a movie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I had the date of April 7th in my head for a while for various reasons but thought it would never happen because my birth predictions never come true. We went to bed at around 11:00 and on the way I told him, "The thought of spending another night pregnant is just killing me." :o) At some point as I was falling asleep I felt a 'pop' and thought to myself that it felt similar to when I started labor with Frito. I didn't feel any wetness or anything else so I ignored it and went back to sleep. At around 12:30 I got up to pee and felt water leaking as I sat up. Yay! I waddled to the bathroom and more water poured out as I sat on the toilet. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I went back to the bedroom and tried to wake TGTBT up but he had come down with a sinus infection and felt SO bad and was exhausted so he was out. I cleaned myself up and tried harder to wake him up and it worked but I think he was hoping I was wrong so he could go back to sleep. I called the midwife who was glad she only had to walk from her RV in our driveway instead of drive 2 hours to get to us. I also called my mother and sister and we decided to not call the sister in Dallas because she was getting up early to head down here anyway and we knew she wouldn't make it in time anyway so we figured at least SOMEONE should get a good night's sleep. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I waited around for contractions and after about 15 minutes they started. I hopped into the spa and hoped the warm water would slow it down enough for everyone to get here but not draw it out too long. The contractions were very irregular and not consistent in intensity at all. I'd have a doozie that would double-peak and last for nearly 2 minutes and then a teeny one that I didn't even have to pay attention to. My mother and sister showed up about 1:30 and we were all having a good time laughing and joking. I kept asking what the time was because I was sure I'd just speed through in about an hour since Frito's birth was only about 2.5 hours. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;At some point I remember telling TGTBT that he should probably go ahead and get into the spa because once it kicked off good I wouldn't be able to handle him jostling me to get in. I also made him turn off the bubbles in the middle of one big contraction because it was affecting my concentration. It was about this point that I also told my sister to "shut up" because she was talking in the middle of a contraction. From this point on I have no concept of time and I was in laborland with my eyes closed trying not to notice anything but the contractions so I could deal with them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Up to this point I had been completely silent during contractions other than trying to keep my breathing slow and deep. All the sudden I started vocalizing. When birthing naturally there's a point where you enter transition and begin to moan involuntarily. The groans are VERY deep and although you're aware that you sound possessed there's not a dang thing you can do about it. My midwife even says there's a certain note that's so low you can't hit it unless you're just about ready to push. The contractions were extremely painful at this point and I kept telling myself that I could get through this ONE contraction if it meant I could push during the next one. That happened through about 5 contractions and then I realized I was about to push. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The midwife's assistant was just walking in the door. I told my sister to wake up The Nut but to let Frito sleep until just after the baby was born. Here comes The Nut in her pj's smiling from ear to ear to see all the excitement and know the baby was about to be here. I pushed once and felt the baby move way down and knew she was going to come flying out. I lifted myself up and did a crab walk across the spa to the midwives yelling that she was coming and I needed support or I'd tear. I was pushing the entire time and couldn't figure out why they were just sitting there watching me and not DOING anything, lol. They had no clue how fast she was coming.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So TGTBT helps hold me up and all the sudden her head is there and both midwives and TGTBT jump to help support me so I don't tear. I pushed again and she SHOT out into the water about a foot. My midwife caught her and lifted her onto my chest and that was that. In all the excitement I don't know if anyone got the exact time but our estimate is 3:45. My mother got Frito up and she was so confused about all the action. She just stared at the baby with her mouth hanging open. I think she understands that the baby was in my tummy and that I didn't just show up here one day with this stranger. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The cord took forever to quit pulsating and when it did The Nut got to cut it. She wasn't quite strong enough to make it all the way through but she said she'd do better next time. :o) After it was cut I grabbed the other end that was still attached to me and noticed a true knot. It looked like a little pretzel. I stood up to deliver the placenta and could not get it out. It was like all my muscles had been so overstretched and overworked that they were completely useless. Of course, I'm also worried about it not detatching and I'm thinking that would be my luck. Such an awesome birth and then have to go to the hospital anyway to get the placenta taken out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So we worked at it and I changed positions a few times and it finally came out. I had no tears, surprisingly, considering she came out in under a minute. All in all I feel great and it's kind of hard to keep myself from doing too much because of that. All day Tuesday the baby slept and was up pretty much all night Tuesday night. We were a little concerned with a funny hitch in her breathing so we decided to get her to the pediatrician for her newborn exam sooner rather than later so her appointment was yesterday afternoon. The pediatrician didn't find anything wrong and deemed her perfectly healthy. The baby slept much better last night (as did I) and my milk is coming in so she's enjoying that new phase. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;As long as this post is there's actually much more that I want to add but I'm getting sleepy and things are the calmest they've been around here since she was born so I'm going to take advantage of that and rest a little. Thanks for reading!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-2562353091051633949?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2562353091051633949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/countdown-to-baby-is-over.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/2562353091051633949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/2562353091051633949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/countdown-to-baby-is-over.html' title='Countdown to Baby is Over'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-7287006805050018039</id><published>2009-04-04T16:43:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T16:45:05.641-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Well!  Doesn't THAT just take the biscuit?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The Nut just asked me, "Momma, do you WANT another baby?"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Assuming she's talking about the one coming any day now........."Well, yes."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Tsk, tsk.  "That sure is going to be a lot of work for daddy."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;He got a kick out of that.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-7287006805050018039?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/7287006805050018039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/well-doesnt-that-just-take-biscuit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/7287006805050018039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/7287006805050018039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/04/well-doesnt-that-just-take-biscuit.html' title='Well!  Doesn&apos;t THAT just take the biscuit?!'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-3883630070604749666</id><published>2009-03-31T07:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T07:08:42.842-05:00</updated><title type='text'>She's Horsey.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I'm up getting The Nut ready for school and she's eating breakfast----well, she's supposed to be eating but she's really just running her mouth.  She coughed and cleared her throat and turned to me and said, "I had to do that because my voice was getting horsey."  I threw my head back and laughed and she said, "I mean, I was talking horsey."  I still laughed and she just went back to eating.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Now, when I was growing up my mother used to say we were being "horsey" if we were backtalking or had a bad attitude.  I still don't understand how that word means that but it does fit The Nut in a special way.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-3883630070604749666?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/3883630070604749666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/03/shes-horsey.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/3883630070604749666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/3883630070604749666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/03/shes-horsey.html' title='She&apos;s Horsey.'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-8708168193452309089</id><published>2009-03-29T04:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T04:46:12.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah........Pregnancy Insomnia</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;For the record, the only reason I'm even posting is because it's 4:30 AM and I can't sleep.  I went to bed at around 11, woke up at 2 and have been on the internet since then.  I'll probably get exhausted and need to crash right before the kids wake up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;We had family/maternity pics done today by my cousin's wife Alicia.  Thank goodness she's family too because Frito was a turd.  She is most definitely coming into the Terrible Twos and she was NOT having it today.  The Nut went the opposite direction and wanted to be in every single picture.  She was even acting as set director and throwing out ideas for poses and where people should stand.  Alicia took it all in stride though and we got some great shots in spite of Frito's scowls and The Nut's camera hogging.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Now that the pictures are done this little one is free to come anytime.  Except for Monday because my mom and sister will be out of town and my sister says she can't come Friday either because she has movie plans.  LOL  April 7th is sticking out in my mind although I'm not putting much, if any, stock in it because so far I've had 2 births and NONE of my predictions about them came true either time.  It's still fun to speculate though.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I've been told that I'm much more mellow this time around and that people aren't scared to call me so that's nice.  However, things didn't get really bad until I hit 40 weeks with Frito so things could change.   I think her birth though is what's different about my outlook this time.   It happened so fast I went from thinking that I had NO signs of labor and it wasn't ever going to happen to holding a baby in less than 3 hours.  It's sort of proof that it really CAN happen even if you feel like you'll be pregnant forever and not to stress over it.  The past few days I've been having the tiniest signs that things are settling down where they should be and that I will, indeed, be giving birth soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;We somehow had lost a video camera AND some of our tapes with Frito's birth and other stuff on them.   We searched through the trailer, the house, the rent house we'd been in, my FIL's house where we had stayed and we called relatives to ask if we'd somehow left it at their house, etc.  Nada.  My FIL actually found it today hanging on his coat rack underneath a jacket.  Not only does that mean that we had passed it dozens of times but it's kind of scary because this is the same man who cannot keep up with a checkbook.  He lost his checkbook 3 times in 6 months.  The last time he called me to say he was heading to the bank to close his account before the stolen checks could be cashed.  He called back 5 minutes later to say he had found it------in his OTHER pocket.  No kidding.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So I stuck Frito's birth video in and TGTBT walked in to see what I was doing and I started crying.  He asked what was wrong and I said, "I can't believe I'm about to do this all over again."  He sort of got a soft look on his face and rubbed my back and I realized that he was thinking that I was getting sentimental about having a newborn and all that jazz.  I set him straight.  "That was the single most excrutiating experience of my life and I'm doing it again!"  LOL  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;It is a little scary to think of the pain because watching that video brought it back pretty clearly but the excitement of labor and seeing that baby for the very first time dulls it somewhat.  And I've actually gone from swearing I NEVER want a fast labor again because it's so intense and out of control to hoping this one is even shorter.  I figure if I have to hurt I may as well hurt for the least amount of time possible even if it would hurt a little less if labor lasted longer.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;As you can see, I'm preoccupied with the birth and nothing but the birth so this may be my last post until the baby is here.  Unless I keep up with this insomnia.........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-8708168193452309089?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/8708168193452309089/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/03/ahpregnancy-insomnia.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/8708168193452309089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/8708168193452309089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/03/ahpregnancy-insomnia.html' title='Ah........Pregnancy Insomnia'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-4497313131619993315</id><published>2009-03-17T21:41:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T22:15:37.065-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Has it Been This Long??!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Sorry, guys!  I'm at the point in pregnancy I always get to where it pisses me off to do anything but go into labor so I haven't been keeping up.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I'm 38 weeks tomorrow and although I've gone over 40 weeks both previous pregnancies I still dream of it happening "any minute."  Realistically I know it could easily be another FIVE WEEKS and that doesn't settle well with me so I sort of fixate on the "any minute" thing.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;My midwife doesn't have any births scheduled when I'm due so she's going to park an RV in our driveway and live there until the birth.  It feels weird to me for her to do that but my labor with Frito was under 3 hours and she lives 2 hours away.  She was in the house 26 seconds before Frito was born and it really stressed her out so she'll feel more comfortable this way.  And it'll be nice to not have to second-guess if it's time to call her because I won't be worried about bothering her for nothing.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The Nut had open house at school tonight and we got to see all of her Texas history work.  She had a pecan tree with Honey Smacks glued on as the pecans, a mockingbird with her handprints as wings and this lovely little story she wrote (I'm replacing their real names just as I do in the blog but for those who know us, she used an "i" instead of an "o" for Frito's real name):&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cowgirl Frito&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My name is Frito.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am rideing a cow.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My sisters name is The Nut.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have black heer.                    &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(Actually, Frito has blonde hair)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I have a red hat.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The rope is brown.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am saying yee hall.                &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(That cracks me up)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am wering boots.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I am having fun.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We are smiling.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Flows very nicely, doesn't it?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The other day we were all coming home from going out to eat and TGTBT and I were TRYING to have a conversation and she was in the back saying, "What?"  "Huh?"  "He did what?"  every few seconds and I finally said, "That's enough!  This conversation does not involve you and it's taking 10 times as long as it should because you keep interrupting us!"  She was quiet for a minute and then said, "I need to get me some hearing aids."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I was looking at my belly button yesterday wondering if it was actually going to protrude this pregnancy as it never quite made it out the other 2 times.  I remembered being pregnant with Frito and The Nut and I were in the bath together and I was telling her that my belly button was probably going to pop out at some point.  Her eyes got huge and she said, "That's ok.  I'll catch it.  And put it in my mouth to keep it safe."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-4497313131619993315?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/4497313131619993315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/03/has-it-been-this-long.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/4497313131619993315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/4497313131619993315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/03/has-it-been-this-long.html' title='Has it Been This Long??!!'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-1742799704148600341</id><published>2009-03-05T09:13:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T09:20:55.905-06:00</updated><title type='text'>This is funny.....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;although probably only if you know me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I've been VERY uncomfortable lately and it's getting harder to get around and TGTBT, staying true to his nickname, has just been wonderful.  He's been telling me to just rest during the day and he'd take care of laundry and stuff when he gets home from work (and he works 12-hour days).  Of course, I ignore him and try to do what I can anyway although it's admittedly not as much as NEEDS to be done.  He also is picking up a dishwasher today for the FEMA trailer to make kitchen cleanup easier AND he suggested hiring a cleaning lady.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Calm down, ladies, he's taken.  Did I mention he's also extremely romantic, handsome, has dimples and is G.R.E.A.T. in bed?  I'll stop there because I don't want to risk being run off the road in an "accident."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So anyway, last night he was washing dishes after supper and I stared at him for a minute and said, "You're such a good husband."  He grinned, showing those dimples, and rolled his eyes at me.  He said, "Well, you're a good wife." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I popped out laughing and put myself in a world of hurt from the strain.  When I caught my breath he said, "I knew that no matter how sincerely I said it that I'd get that reaction."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-1742799704148600341?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/1742799704148600341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-is-funny.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/1742799704148600341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/1742799704148600341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-is-funny.html' title='This is funny.....'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-2382118496662264191</id><published>2009-03-02T21:34:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T21:53:56.314-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What a day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Title makes it looks exciting, doesn't it? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I noticed that my low tire pressure doo-hickey was flashing at me this morning.  Nothing new as 3 tires will read 32 PSI and the 4th is flashing at 30 PSI.  It's more irritating than anything.  I also knew TGTBT had just filled a low tire last week.  Except that today the left rear tire is 14.  After a round-trip dropping The Nut off at school it's only on 16.  So, me being a helpless female when it comes to things like this, I called TGTBT at work to ask what I should do as we had an appointment later that morning that I'd have to drive to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;His first idea was to tell me how to put air in the tire.  Yeeeeeaaaaaahhhhh.  Not going to happen.  I don't care how idiot-proof it seems or how much he swears there's nothing to it.  I will find a way to make the situation even worse.  It's a guarantee.  I just decide that I'm going to get dressed and take it to the tire place 5 minutes down the road.  TGTBT has me convinced that I'll do permanent damage to the car and/or have a horrific wreck on that 5 minute drive.  I'm willing to risk it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Frito and I get dressed and leave and 30 minutes later I've got a patched tire and no more flashing doo-hickey.  And it was only $14.95.  The day's starting to look up.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I head to Walmart and wander around for 30 minutes picking up odds and ends but not the 1 thing I went there for.  I did score a button-up maternity shirt in a very flattering color that I hope will work for my maternity photo shoot in a few weeks.  It's really very hard to find a maternity shirt that buttons but I prefer them for the photos since I can expose my belly and nothing else.  So that's done and I wait for TGTBT to meet me so we can go to our appointment.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Make the appointment on time and we get good news and I have lunch plans with my mother and sister as soon as I drop TGTBT back off at his truck.  I'm really enjoying my day out.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Until.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I've touched briefly on TGTBT's bathroom habits and how it's his one downfall.  He decided to be considerate and pass gas outside of the car right before he got in.  Unfortunately for me, it apparently was on a delayed time-switch because as I started the car it hit me.  I rolled down the windows and began to gag (odors are 1 thing that I cannot handle---especially if I know what they are).  At 36 weeks pregnant you really shouldn't gag if you're not already on a toilet.  So I sat there in the driver's seat and peed all over myself.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I not only had to drive all the way back sitting in pee clothes but there was no way I had time to go all the way back home before my lunch date.   I DID have a gigantic pair of maternity pants that were in the car because I was supposed to be returning them to Walmart anyway so I had to climb in the back of the minivan and take off my pee pants and put the gigantic ones on.  As I'm changing Frito is saying, "Pew pew.  Hiney."  Thanks, honey.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I then get to go back into Walmart to buy some new panties and a better-fitting pair of maternity pants, go into the bathroom to clean up and hope I don't get hassled for shoplifting because the sign right there says "NO MERCHANDISE IN THE RESTROOMS."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;To his credit, TGTBT only laughed a little, felt bad about it and only told 1 person he works with.  And I made my lunch date on time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;At lunch my sister said something that reminded me of something The Nut did a few weeks ago.  I had bought a package of vanilla sandwich cookies and gave her 2 of them for dessert.  She ate them in her room.  But she brought one back out and gave it to TGTBT saying she didn't want it because she was full.  So he popped it into his mouth and was almost finished chewing when he got a strange look on his face and asked, "Did you LICK the cream out of the middle?"  The Nut said, "Yeah.  I just didn't want the cookie."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;He was able to swallow it down but was not a happy camper and she couldn't understand why he wasn't happy that she gave him her cookie.  There was an email sent around some time back where a little girl made her daddy a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and halfway through he remembered that they were out of peanut butter and he asked the girl where the peanut butter came from and she said, "Well, we had peanuts so I just chewed them up and put them on the sandwich."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I say TGTBT got off easy.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-2382118496662264191?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2382118496662264191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/2382118496662264191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/2382118496662264191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-day.html' title='What a day!'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-6411531764006527526</id><published>2009-02-26T21:25:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T21:49:17.093-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hiatus</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I can't figure out how to embed pics anywhere but at the beginning so the post will be somewhat disjointed.  I know, what else is new?  Shut up. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Here is the new back of our house partially completed.  I love the new roof-line and can't wait to see the finished product!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/Sadf4a3-CcI/AAAAAAAAABQ/Y45wSFtj4Ko/s1600-h/back.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307316108770806210" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/Sadf4a3-CcI/AAAAAAAAABQ/Y45wSFtj4Ko/s400/back.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Here is the before pic with justthe new slab poured:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SadfZBgGHqI/AAAAAAAAABI/J3ZFwy92Unw/s1600-h/back+before.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307315569383841442" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SadfZBgGHqI/AAAAAAAAABI/J3ZFwy92Unw/s400/back+before.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Well, I admitted in the beginning that I was worried about the pressures of keeping up with this thing! It's amazing how quickly a week can go by while you put things off for "just one more day."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Let's see........I guess the biggest news is that we attended the Heart Walk for my nephew last weekend. It was a 3K walk and since I barely made it to the park from the parking lot I sat it out. I figured it would be my luck to send myself into preterm labor. I felt so useless sitting there like a big lump while everyone else did their thang. But it was a lovely day and we had a good time and the best news is that my sister met and surpassed her fundraising goal! Yay! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;This morning on the way to The Nut's school, Frito let loose with a 45-second long speech that was nothing but babbling and "her" special language. When she was done I said, "Oh, really?" The Nut said, "Do you know what she said?" When I told her that I didn't she said, "She said you're hideous." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;It's a good thing I was at a red light because I could not stop laughing. I called my mom immediately and she was appalled and I said, "Oh, she doesn't know what it means. The Nut, do you know what "hideous" means?" She said, "It means disgusting." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Oops! I guess she DOES know! I don't think she was mad at me so I can only guess that somewhere in Frito's speech was something that sounded like "hideous." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;She's been having issues with counting money at school. She sometimes mixes up which coins are which and such. She was saying something about a hundred dollar bill and she turned her head to the left and said, "You know, the one with the girl who looks this way." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I was able to go grocery shopping all by my lonesome today because my mom came and sat with Frito.  It's just getting VERY hard to even exert that much energy without dealing with hauling a 22-month old around so it was a big help.  I thought I'd speed right through since there wouldn't be any distractions but just the opposite happened.  I took 2.5 hours because I was ABLE to take my time.  Such an odd experience.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;With the birth just about a month away I'm getting anxious.  I'm very curious to see how this one will go.  The Nut's birth was almost 18 hours and a marathon.  Frito's was less than 3 and a freight train.  I don't know if I want something in the middle for this one or if I should wish for another short one to get it over with.  I figure if I survived being steamrolled for Frito's birth I can do it again, right?  Right?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I need to find a kiddie pool that will work as a birth pool because our bathtub here barely fits the kids and I'm not spending hundreds of dollars on a real birth pool.  And TGTBT has been in there with me for the other 2 births so it has to be big enough for him to fit comfortably too.  That's funny that I'm thinking of his comfort, lol.  During The Nut's birth I was leaning back on him while pushing and at one point his leg got twisted underneath him and all of his weight AND my weight was on one of his ankles.  I had no clue until I watched the video.  His face contorted and he opened his mouth in a silent scream and you could see the midwives laughing and my mom actually had to step out of the room.  When I watched the video and noticed that I told him, "You're a very smart man.  If you had so much as whispered 'ouch' I'd have ripped something off of you."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I'm hungry.  Again.  I'll try not to let so much time pass by between posts anymore.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-6411531764006527526?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/6411531764006527526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/hiatus.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/6411531764006527526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/6411531764006527526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/hiatus.html' title='Hiatus'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/Sadf4a3-CcI/AAAAAAAAABQ/Y45wSFtj4Ko/s72-c/back.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-4403485738012312415</id><published>2009-02-16T16:54:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T17:12:53.273-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah.........I Feel Bad</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So, being 33 weeks pregnant is no walk in the park itself but having sinus issues when you're 33 weeks pregnant is like being dragged around the park behind one of those horse-drawn carriages and hitting every steaming pile of horse poo on the way.  Here's where I need to give credit where credit is due and say that TGTBT fixed me an amaretto sour and gave me a back rub to help me sleep Saturday night while not saying a word that our tentative plans for lovin' were definitely NOT going to happen.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Speaking of, earlier that day before I felt so bad, he asked if we were going to have a special night that night.  I told him that if I got a backrub I might give him "a little sumpin' sumpin'."  The Nut pipes up and says, "If I give you a backrub can I have a little sumpin' sumpin'?"  TGTBT fell over laughing.  I asked her what she wanted and she said a dollar.  So she rubbed my shoulders and the rest of the weekend kept asking if she could get a little sumpin' sumpin' for doing chores and stuff.  We're choosing to ignore it and hoping that particular phrase leaves her vocabulary shortly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;She also came home Friday with a backpack full of candy and Valentines and kept going on and on about the Fun Dip she got from Justin.  The whole afternoon it was Justin this and Fun Dip that.  At supper she told TGTBT, "Daddy, don't tell him, because you don't know what he looks like, but I love Justin."  So that explains it.  She seems to have moved on from the boy she kissed behind the tires on the playground at the beginning of the school year.  I met that kid and I can say I'm glad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I don't know if we've established the differences in my and TGTBT's parenting skills yet.  If not, let's just say that he's a much better mother than I am and would probably breastfeed if he had the proper equipment.  Our roles are sort of reversed.  I'm the one who throws the pillows on the floor and lets them jump on the couch while he pitches a fit about potential broken bones and how they'll surely go to someone else's house and think it's ok to jump on their furniture.  For the record, no broken bones yet and while I have seen them jump on someone else's furniture it's because they were following the lead of that person's kid(s).  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So, Frito has been climbing onto the chair and then onto the kitchen table.  I get her off the table but don't mind her in the chair.  Sometime she just stands on the chair to reach a pencil or something off the table and gets back down.  Saturday she was in the chair reaching for something and TGTBT yelled, "Frito!  Get down!"  She turned to look at him and came tumbling down and hit the floor HARD.  He runs and gets her and is rocking and kissing her and I'm berating him the whole time.  "That was YOUR fault, you know.  You distracted her.  She would have been fine if you wouldn't have made her turn and look at you.  She gets up there all the time and hasn't fallen yet but you get involved and look what happens."  And so on and so forth.  It was all in good fun and I still got my backrub that night so it's all good.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The local newspaper ran the story of my nephew and my sister's fundraising today.  The article turned out much better than we anticipated as the reporter was very rushed and didn't really do an actual interview.  So hopefully it will raise awareness of CHDs and possibly some money so the goal for his team is met.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The contractor is coming tomorrow to start the work (YAY) and I think he'll be moving the staircase first which is so terribly exciting to me.   I need to get in there this evening and take pictures to document all the changes.  Hopefully they get their work done before this weekend so that we can make the Heart Walk on Saturday.  Surely I'll feel better by then and the fresh air will do me good.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-4403485738012312415?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/4403485738012312415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/yeahi-feel-bad.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/4403485738012312415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/4403485738012312415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/yeahi-feel-bad.html' title='Yeah.........I Feel Bad'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-1414126869476693212</id><published>2009-02-12T20:11:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T20:45:14.820-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Kill Me Now</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Does anyone know why they're teaching kids in Kindergarten and first grade to count money? Weren't we all on 2+2=4 back then? Do you know how frustrating it is to get the concept of monetary value across to a child who has spent the last 2 years learning to count individual items? The Nut has been able to count by 5s and 10s in her head forever but CANNOT apply that to money. You throw some coins down and tell her to add them and she's lost. I'm trying not to be angry with her because I really think these kids are too young for this but she's SO smart and it's very hard to watch her struggle and not get something that you feel she should grasp easily. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;What's worse is that they seem to be flying through it in school whether or not the kids have a good grasp of it or not. I'm worried that she'll get to second grade and they'll build on it thinking the kids got a good foundation in 1st grade and she'll get left behind. I know from experience because I was out for about 2 weeks in 3rd grade when they covered fractions and I STILL have problems with measurements and stuff. Once you get behind it's nearly impossible to catch up because they have to shove so many subjects into the school year so the kids can pass the tests so the school looks good. Never mind that it's the reason we have college students who can barely spell their own name. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Frito is now firmly into the terrible twos. Never mind that she's not actually two yet. But she WILL be...........right before the baby is born. So that'll be good times. And I think she's really ready to potty train because she seems to hate her diapers but I don't know that it's a good idea to get into it now with the baby coming so soon. Because if she doesn't have it down pat within a few weeks it'll have to get put on hold until the baby is at least a few months old and I think interruptions are worse for them than getting a later start. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The Nut was a DREAM to potty train. As soon as she turned 30 months I took a Thursday and Friday off work, put her in panties, gave her a potty chair and made a chart where she could stick colored foil stars every time she went on the potty. She had NO accidents the first day. She went all over the place Friday and I was so confused as I cleaned up after her all day. That Saturday she had no accidents and that was that. The next weekend I remember taking her to the mall with my sister and niece and then to the park afterwards. We'd been at the park for a while when I realized it had been over 5 hours and we hadn't even thought of the bathroom. She hadn't asked and had no accidents either. It was amazing. She night trained just as quickly too.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So either Frito will be just as easy or it'll be a battle of epic proportions. I don't think the odds are good that I'll get 2 kids in a row that easy. Although I said the same thing when The Nut turned out to be such a great sleeper and although the first 6 months were pretty rocky with Frito she turned into a world class sleeper like her sister.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I managed to make a lot of enemies today on Babycenter. Some idiot came up with the idea of having "secret admirers" in honor of Valentine's Day and if you sign up you get to change your screenname to hide who you are and you're assigned someone else who signed up and you follow them around the various boards leaving "love" notes and sappy messages for them. Ugh. Someone started a thread asking opinions and I should have left it alone but I couldn't help it. My first post stated that I would probably kill myself if I had to go back to middle school and it was beyond me how grown women with kids would find the secret admirer thing appealing past middle school and voluntarily involve themselves in it. I was informed that I must be a miserable person who didn't know how to have fun. I then said that the only sort of person I could imagine who would find that game fun probably had a glittery pink Princess keychain and hit the bars every Friday night so I was fine not being grouped in with them. That went over well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The local news is going to my sister's house tomorrow to do the story on my nephew and it should run in Saturday's paper so if you're local, be sure and check that out. She's about halfway to raising her goal so yay! We have plans to join the walkathon on the 21st but they're really up in the air with me being so close to term and with the work starting on our house any day now. But it would be nice to combine that with a last hurrah trip before the baby comes so I hope everything works out. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I need some ice cream to put out this heartburn from supper. :oP Yes, I know it'll make it worse but that's a risk I'm willing to take.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-1414126869476693212?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/1414126869476693212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/kill-me-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/1414126869476693212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/1414126869476693212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/kill-me-now.html' title='Kill Me Now'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-4894277671832026231</id><published>2009-02-11T07:52:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T08:16:33.372-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Blech</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;We had strong winds here last night and on the way to The Nut's school this morning I saw a port 'o potty tumped (yes, that's a word----MY word) over in the road.   I'm just glad I'm not responsible for the cleanup on that.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;My sister has been calling around to area businesses to see if they'll donate for CHD research and awareness and our local paper wants to do a story on my nephew!  That's awesome.  I think it's going to run this weekend.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Yesterday The Nut asked me what something was and I told her I didn't know.  She said, "How do you NOT know that?  You're very smart."  I said, "Even the smartest people in the world don't know everything."  She said, "You're not THAT smart..........well, you're pretty smart."  I could tell she was going to leave it at "You're not THAT smart" but realized it wasn't very nice so she amended it.  I like it when I see signs of her thinking things like that through and making the right choice.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Frito was a TERROR yesterday.  She only napped for an hour (usual nap is around 3 hours) and I tried the rest of the afternoon to get her to go back to sleep and she wasn't having it.  So she was cranky and wired at the same time and TORE the house up.  She's really gotten into throwing things and likes to see how far she can chunk them.  When I got her out of the bath we were walking to her bedroom for a diaper and clothes and she stopped and squatted and peed on the floor.  I actually appreciated the squatting because I didn't have to clean up pee all down her legs.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;My midwife and I think I'm becoming anemic.  I was borderline when I had my bloodwork done back in November but the signs are there now.  So I went to get liquid chlorophyll yesterday from the health food store because it does a really good job of boosting your red blood cells.  But it tastes like turds.  I used it during both previous pregnancies and the bottle I had back in 2002 for The Nut tasted like grass and dirt.  When I used it in 2007 for Frito someone had the idea that adding mint flavor would make it more palatable.  They were wrong.  So I grudgingly went yesterday and was thrilled to find it in pill form!  Yay!  Still smells awful but I can do a pill no matter how stinky it is.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;This is nasty but I'm posting anyway because we got a huge kick out of it.  If TGTBT has a flaw, it's what happens in the bathroom when he's in there.  He likes to think it's a sign of an efficient digestive system but I wonder who he offended in a past life to be saddled with that curse.  He spent some time in there after supper last night and, unfortunately for The Nut, she chose a sticky piece of Airhead candy for dessert and had to wash her hands off before bed.  I hollered at her to hold her breath as she headed off to the bathroom.  Next thing we knew we heard gagging over the sound of the water running.  We were both laughing as quietly as we could but lost it when we heard a garbled, "Oh God........" followed by another gag.  I swear I thought I was going to send myself into labor.  She came out a minute later all red-faced and watery-eyed and I said, "I told you to hold your breath!"  She said, "I tried but it was SO bad!  Don't ever do that again, Daddy."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I felt like a horrible parent for laughing because I've been married to the man for over 12 years and I KNOW how bad it is but some things are just funny no matter how much you care for the person affected.  Case in point: at my sister's college graduation my oldest sister was dressed in a solid white pantsuit.  She also has a bit of a reputation for not being the most graceful person you've ever seen.  Someone had dropped their piece of cake on the floor and she stepped on it and BLAM!  Hit the floor so hard it shook.  Cake was all down the back of her pantsuit.  My mom nearly had a heart attack thinking she had permanently injured herself while I was doubled over laughing with tears in my eyes and trying not to wet my pants.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I'm usually a pretty empathetic person but I can't help but laugh when I see things like that.  I guess that's MY one flaw.  ;o)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-4894277671832026231?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/4894277671832026231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/blech.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/4894277671832026231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/4894277671832026231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/blech.html' title='Blech'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-4366753825043380763</id><published>2009-02-08T15:42:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T17:01:44.074-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And Now My First Serious Post</title><content type='html'>This week is Congenital Heart Defect Awareness Week. CHDs entered my life about 6 years ago when a good friend's daughter was born a micro-preemie with an assortment of heart defects that made up Tetralogy of Fallot. She had a long road ahead of her and overcame numerous health issues and surgeries. Unfortunately, with CHDs you're never really "cured" and nobody really knows what the future holds for her and how many more trials she'll have to face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHDs hit even closer to home for me Dec. 21st 2007. My nephew was born at home on Dec. 6th and he seemed a healthy baby, albeit a very sleepy baby who had trouble nursing and would only sleep in 45 minute stretches round the clock. His first pediatrician appointment at 2 weeks old turned our lives upside down. The doctor heard a heart murmur and was concerned enough to send them directly to the hospital for an ultrasound. That evening, after a specialist reviewed the scans my sister received a phone call urging her to pack for 2 weeks and head straight to Texas Children's Hospital 2 hours away. The preliminary diagnosis was transposition of the great arteries and pulmonary atresia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowing very little about the conditions I hopped online to learn what I could. The TGA seemed fairly easy to deal with, all things considered, but the information I read on PA wasn't comforting at all. My nephew was a sensation at the hospital as it was unheard of for PA babies to make it to 2 weeks without intervention and doctors and nurses kept dropping into the room to look him over. More thorough tests were run and his diagnosis was changed, thankfully, to tricuspid atresia, transposition of the great arteries, pulmonary stenosis, ventricular septal defect and atrial septal defect. It sounds silly to say "thankfully" the diagnosis was changed and then post a laundry list of defects but I have my reasons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it was decided that he was "balanced," meaning a good ratio of oxygenated to unoxygenated blood was being pumped through his body and he could bypass the first of 3 surgeries that is standard procedure for correcting his particular defects. That surgery is usually done at birth. After a week in the hospital he was able to come home with special equipment to monitor his oxygen levels and his family settled into their new routine of dealing with a special needs baby. Gone were the days of packing up and going shopping or out to eat or even having guests over as he could not afford to get even a little cold. My sister had to quit her job as he could never go into daycare. She also had to begin pumping breastmilk as nursing from the breast was too taxing for him and he would get sweaty and exhausted from the effort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we knew it the time for his first surgery had come. They generally wait as long as possible as the bigger and stronger the babies are the better the odds are of a good outcome. His condition began to deteriorate sooner than we had hoped and a week before he turned 5 months old he had his first open heart surgery. It's called the Hemi-Fontan and re-routes the blood flow from the upper body directly to the lungs which reduces the amount of work the right ventricle has to do. So now blood goes into the lungs to be oxygenated, back into the heart and then pumped to the rest of the body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The surgery went extremely well and as hard as it was to prepare for this and to see the aftermath I can't imagine how we would have made it through if there had been complications. He spent a week in the hospital afterwards and another week at The Ronald McDonald House nearby. After 2 weeks he was home again and began his new life. Of course, we still had to be cautious and life certainly didn't go back to "normal" but he was a whole new baby. He began to eat better, sleep better, catch up on his milestones that were delayed because he had been simply trying to survive. We were all astounded at how much better his color was and horrified that we didn't notice how bad it was until we saw what he was supposed to look like. His older sister could finally start to really play with him as he began to have longer periods where he was awake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is now 14 months old and is the handsomest, happiest, best natured baby. He is still carefully monitored and his body will let us know when his next and, hopefully final, surgery will need to be performed. They like to get to 4 years old, ideally, for this one although if it becomes necessary before then, that's what will have to be. It's called the Fontan and will re-route the blood from his lower body directly to the lungs to further reduce the burden on his heart. From that point on his heart will only be responsible for pumping blood to the body and not to the lungs. I am dreading the surgery because it's surgery, and open heart at that, but I'm also excited in a way to see what this means for him. He changed SO much after being halfway "repaired" that it seems like the sky's the limit for him after he's fully "repaired."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There isn't much data on there about long-term prognosis for babies with his defect(s) as the procedure used to correct the defects is new. New as in only a few decades old. So there aren't many older kids and adults out there who had these defects and this repair to let us know what's in store for him. However, my sister has become acquainted with a wonderful girl named Lauren who is 21, has TA and has never had a transplant. She's still living with her heart that was repaired using the Hemi-Fontan and Fontan and gives my sister a lot of hope that her son will have just as positive an outcome as Lauren has. We're also supremely thankful to live so near to Texas Children's Hospital where there are so many world-renowned specialists who are on the cutting edge of research and technology and innovation. We know he's in the best hands he could be in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lauren created &lt;a href="http://www.onetruemedia.com/shared?p=51ce70593fcfb0f59cbc55&amp;amp;skin_id=801&amp;amp;utm_source=otm&amp;amp;utm_medium=text_url"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; video to raise awareness of CHDs and the impact they have on our lives. My nephew is featured briefly at 1:53 and at 3:22. You can also go &lt;a href="http://www.carepages.com/carepages/ConnerLemus/updates/1969712?client_code=tch&amp;amp;ipc=mur"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; and view my nephew's CarePage. My sister is also raising money for CHD awareness this month and if you would like to donate the information as to how to do that is also in his latest CarePage entry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-4366753825043380763?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/4366753825043380763/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/and-now-my-first-serious-post.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/4366753825043380763'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/4366753825043380763'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/and-now-my-first-serious-post.html' title='And Now My First Serious Post'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-9083821230664553811</id><published>2009-02-07T14:15:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T14:41:21.485-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Snotty Kisses and Dead Bodies</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So, what do you do when your absolutely precious 21-month old climbs in your lap to give you mouth kisses over and over?  Usually I'd be bursting with joy and relishing every sweet baby kiss.  However, an inch-long line of thick, yellow snot coming out of each of Frito's nostrils, spreading over her lips and covering her chin has a tendency to temper my enthusiasm.  I've settled on being upbeat and cheery about it and teasing her with "yuckies" and "ew, grosses" as I smile and turn my head.  It works in that it keeps her from actually kissing me but it kind of backfires in that she now thinks it's a game and her goal is to work at it as long as necessary to land one.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;She got one on my cheek earlier and she even pointed at the smear and said, "Ewwww."  That didn't seem to clue her in though that mayhaps I don't actually WANT her snot on my face because she kept going.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The Nut was just partially released from exile in her room due to atrocious behavior on a school field trip on Thursday.  Any new experience sends her into a tailspin and puts her energy (and mouth) on overdrive so I was anticipating troubles.  And she didn't disappoint.  The outing was to a garden/nature preserve in our area.  I'll leave out all the details of her behavior except for one........they took a boat ride and were getting a lecture on all the various flora and fauna and wildlife and the guide asked if the kids could guess what all sorts of things were in the water.  One of the kids said 'alligators' and one said 'fish.'  Apparently The Nut thought it would be appropriate to mention that there were probably dead bodies down there too.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;In case you hadn't noticed, she tends to be very "matter-of-fact" about things and probably had no idea people would find that disturbing.  And she's right........there probably ARE bodies down there.  We tried to explain why it's best to not say that sort of thing, especially with other kids around, but I have a feeling it went right over her head.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;She's like me in that respect.  I've never understood not talking about factual things just because they may be unpleasant.  I don't find it disturbing.  What I find disturbing are the things people make up that are unpleasant.  Acknowledging things that are real, no matter how bad they may be, is just part of life.  Inventing things that are disgusting, for whatever reason, is the sign of a disturbed mind.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I don't believe she got in trouble for the actual comment, which I'm glad about, but I understand the teacher feeling the need to mention it.  We just really need to work on her "filter."  Which is going to be nearly impossible for me since I lack one myself.   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-9083821230664553811?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/9083821230664553811/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/snotty-kisses-and-dead-bodies.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/9083821230664553811'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/9083821230664553811'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/snotty-kisses-and-dead-bodies.html' title='Snotty Kisses and Dead Bodies'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-2869055998475217609</id><published>2009-02-04T08:21:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-04T08:41:11.141-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Should I Glue the Diapers On?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I don't know what Frito's deal is but she cannot stand to have a diaper on anymore.  Yesterday I was on the phone with my mom while Frito was napping.  The Nut was home from school because she swore she was awake all night and was too tired to go.  She also had a stuffy nose and a bit of a cough so it was somewhat justified.  Frito woke up and The Nut went to go get her.  The Nut came back into my room and announced that Frito was naked.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So I go to see the damage and on the way The Nut says, "Don't touch her hiney.......it's wrinkled."  Poor Frito.  She inherited TGTBT's muscular thighs and they got wrapped in a layer of my cellulite.  When she was younger I used to take her diaper off and show anybody who cared to see how it looked like someone took a meat tenderizer to her backside.  You have never seen a more dimpled baby butt in your life and it was absolutely adorable.  She's slowly outgrowing it and I'm happy for her sake but it's bittersweet.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;At any rate, I walk in and she's standing in her crib, in a pile of pee, buck naked with her baby in one arm.  She's just sucking her thumb and looking at me as if there's not a thing wrong with what she's done.  I clean her up and remind her, again, that we don't take off our diaper.  I'm sure she got the message and it won't happen again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Later I decide the girls can take a bath together so I get the bath ready, take off Frito's diaper and set her in the tub.  I go to fold the diaper up and throw it away and I see poop in there.  Great.  I stand her up and see poop on her hiney and now there's flotsam and jetsam murking up the bathwater.  The Nut is freaking out at this point and Frito again doesn't seem to see what the big deal is.  I get her cleaned up, get the tub cleaned up and try again.  Success.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;That evening Frito disappears into The Nut's room while we're in the living room watching tv.   I heard her playing and the door was open so I let her be.  After a while we notice it's quiet.  I call to her a few times and listen carefully.  She's still quiet so I'm just about to haul myself up off the couch and go check when I see her naked butt come sliding off the bed.  DANG IT!  I check carefully and there's no pee anywhere, thank goodness.  I've even started to make sure she's clothed thinking that will be a deterrant but no dice so far.  She even managed to take off a long-sleeved footed sleeper that zips all the way up the front AND has a snap over that.  I'm thinking industrial strength adhesive might do the trick so I'll have to check on that next time I'm at Home Depot.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;My belly gets really hot lately (my guess is all the cellular activity it contains at the moment) so I tied my t-shirt up between my boobs yesterday and went about my business.  At one point The Nut and Frito were on the couch and I walked past and sat down beside them.  The Nut said, "Mom, I don't want to tell you this in front of Frito so let me whisper in your ear."   I said that wasn't necessary and she could just tell me.  She looks at Frito and shrugs and says, "Okaaaaay.  You have a big fat belly."  Like that's some big top-secret piece of information.  That didn't bother me because I have a baby in there.  I'll survive.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;However, as I was getting out of the bath she smacked my butt and said, "I like doing that because I like to watch your hiney wiggle."  That one stung.  The smack AND the honesty.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-2869055998475217609?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2869055998475217609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/should-i-glue-diapers-on.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/2869055998475217609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/2869055998475217609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/should-i-glue-diapers-on.html' title='Should I Glue the Diapers On?'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-3770417621601892291</id><published>2009-02-02T19:38:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T20:13:18.441-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Nut Tries to Teach a Lesson</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lately it's been a constant battle with Frito to keep her from jumping on the couch. I mean C.O.N.S.T.A.N.T. So I was preparing supper and she was going at it and The Nut kept getting onto her and pulling her down and Frito would squeal and cry and, since I like quiet, I told The Nut to leave her alone. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Just let her fall. Maybe she'll learn her lesson."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Nut got up and grabbed the coffee table and said, "Do you want me to move the table?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I was chopping potatoes and thinking to myself, "That's a very mature and empathetic thing to think of. I'm so proud." &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I told her that it would be nice if she would.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;She said, "So she'll learn her lesson even better."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;..........&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I guess my pride will have to be because she thinks outside the box.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-3770417621601892291?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/3770417621601892291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/nut-tries-to-teach-lesson.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/3770417621601892291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/3770417621601892291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/nut-tries-to-teach-lesson.html' title='The Nut Tries to Teach a Lesson'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-5403835731971549549</id><published>2009-02-01T21:59:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T22:00:54.313-06:00</updated><title type='text'>This is a Neat Test to Take</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.chemistry.com/whyhimwhyher/index.aspx"&gt;http://www.chemistry.com/whyhimwhyher/index.aspx&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;And here are my results.  Pretty accurate, in my opinion.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.chemistry.com/whyhimwhyher/LoveMapResults.aspx"&gt;http://www.chemistry.com/whyhimwhyher/LoveMapResults.aspx&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-5403835731971549549?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/5403835731971549549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/this-is-neat-test-to-take.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/5403835731971549549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/5403835731971549549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/this-is-neat-test-to-take.html' title='This is a Neat Test to Take'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-1377181237695780350</id><published>2009-02-01T16:08:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-02-01T16:27:30.488-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's Try This Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;It certainly won't be a repeat of the one that Frito erased but..........&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;This morning TGTBT asked, "Do you know what a llama looks like?"  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Um.....yeah."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Do you know what an elk looks like?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Yes........."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Would you ever mistake a llama for an elk?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Anyway, apparently some hunter shot a "feral" llama thinking it was an elk.  I said, "There are feral llamas in the US?"  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TGTBT said, "Well, yeah.  They belong to someone but escape and become feral."  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I said, "In that case, the cow that was in Joe's yard was feral, huh?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He rolled his eyes and I realized that we had never told The Nut about it.  So I said, "The Nut, did you know there was a cow wandering around here the other day?"  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;She nodded and then said, "Wait......in our yard?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"No, in Joe's backyard."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Oh yeah.  I knew because I saw the cow poop." &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;She said it very matter-of-factly and went about her business like it was an everyday occurrence to see cow poop in the yard.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Speaking of poop.....I got a double dose of it yesterday.  Frito woke up and I smelled it as soon as I walked in her room.  I barely stuck my finger in the back of her diaper to pull it out and check and it was so far up the back it went all under my fingernail.  Went and scrubbed my hands and went back and got her out of the crib and began changing her.  She likes to flail all about now and try to grab whatever's there so I then got it all over the back of my hand.  I was thoroughly grossed out by this point AND had been in the middle of making breakfast----sausage/egg biscuits that need to be eaten by HAND.  I barely made it through, let me tell you.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;We also found out yesterday that The Nut has been going into the neighbor's house uninvited and has walked in on them in their underwear AFTER they'd already gotten onto her once about knocking and such.  What's ironic is that before we found that out I had JUST been thinking how nice it was that she was getting older and didn't have to be supervised 24/7 and how I bet she was enjoying her newfound freedom as much as we were.  So much for that.  New rule is that she's not allowed to go see if the boys can play anymore until she proves to us that she's showing maturity and responsibility in other ways.  They have to come get her.  I hope she learns her lesson.  I was highly embarrassed about the whole thing.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friday on the way to school "Love Story" by Taylor Swift was on the radio and The Nut asked, "Is Juliet a place or a thing?"  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So I gave her a watered down version of Romeo and Juliet-----minus the double suicide at the end.  She then wanted to hear, AGAIN, all about how TGTBT and I met and fell in love.  She asked how old we were and I told her that I was almost 17 and TGTBT was almost 21.  She got very quiet.  Then, "I'm going to cry."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Why are you going to cry?"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Because Daddy's so much OLDER than you and he's going to DIE first!"  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He got a kick out of that.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And lastly, Frito has a new consistent word.  I went to get her up and she was staring at my pajama pants and I thought it was odd.  Then she said, "Bum ba."   I looked down and realized I had Spongebob all over my pants.  She's said it all day long.  So cute.  &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-1377181237695780350?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/1377181237695780350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/lets-try-this-again.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/1377181237695780350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/1377181237695780350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/02/lets-try-this-again.html' title='Let&apos;s Try This Again'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-3190762846061880585</id><published>2009-01-30T09:01:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-30T09:19:31.709-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Frito is Evil</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;As if I needed more proof.  I just had an entire post typed out, had it highlighted to change the font color and with super-sonic speed she reached out and deleted EVERYTHING.   I'm thoroughly disgusted and going to take a nap.  To be continued..........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-3190762846061880585?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/3190762846061880585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/frito-is-evil.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/3190762846061880585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/3190762846061880585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/frito-is-evil.html' title='Frito is Evil'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-399020535618172986</id><published>2009-01-27T22:04:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T07:11:20.219-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Prenatal Tomorrow</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;My midwife is coming tomorrow for a prenatal. We missed last month's because she had chickenpox running through her house. I really wanted to go ahead and expose the girls but decided it probably would be best to do it when I wasn't pregnant. This makes TWO opportunities in the past year where my girls could have gotten it naturally and didn't. Dang it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I also have a doula-in-training coming to meet with us. I've never had a doula and don't really feel the need for one since this isn't my first rodeo but she's an acquaintance and needs one more birth to get her DONA certification so I'm game! Since we'll still be in the FEMA trailer when the baby comes it will mean all 3 of my kids will have been born in a different house. The Nut was born in our first house and Frito was born in the house we have now but it won't be anywhere near ready before this one's born. I always imagined part of the appeal of homebirth is that you always have those memories come to the surface when you see the room your child was born in. That doesn't even count for Frito anymore because the room she was born in isn't technically there anymore :o( and will look completely different when it's finished. So NONE of my birth memories will be attached to the actual rooms. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;We had a cow wandering the neighborhood yesterday. Yep. Made me late to an appointment too. I was getting ready to leave and saw TGTBT walk across the street and then go talk to a policeman who was in his car in a neighbor's driveway. He came back and said, "There's a cow in Joe's backyard. I walked around the corner and he looked at me like, 'Oh snap! The jig is up!'" LOL So right as I was leaving the owners drove up and roped him and led him off. I thought the whole thing was hilarious. We also had a bobcat or something run through our backyard not long after moving here so The Nut wasn't allowed to play outside by herself for quite a while. I wouldn't necessarily consider where we live to be "country" but those 2 things make me wonder.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;My sister is convinced that Frito is going to be a stripper. She has certain poses and gestures that DO sometimes look like it may be inevitable. I mean, a few days ago she WAS walking around in nothing but a diaper and boots. I think the deal was sealed this evening because she crawled up on the coffee table and danced. She was literally shimmying and shaking her hips and at one point was on all fours twisting her shoulders. I was cracking up and making comments to TGTBT about it and he found nothing amusing at all. He takes these things too seriously.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Eh. The Nut was a terror today so I didn't find anything she did to be funny so I'll post an oldie but goodie. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Last summer Emily was talking about dinosaurs and she mentioned the caradaptol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said, "The what?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The caradaptol. You know, the one that has wings."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-399020535618172986?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/399020535618172986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/prenatal-tomorrow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/399020535618172986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/399020535618172986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/prenatal-tomorrow.html' title='Prenatal Tomorrow'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-5652174696641724187</id><published>2009-01-25T21:10:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T21:41:57.586-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Had a Family Day Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;We were supposed to get out yesterday and do something fun.  However, TGTBT and I both woke up before 6 and couldn't go back to sleep.  He did a lot of work outside the house and I did a lot of work inside the house and by the time we were ready to go anywhere I was SO exhausted and in pain that I backed out.  So to appease The Nut who had convinced herself that she was going to Chuck E. Cheese, TGTBT rented a movie for her and we all watched it together.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;He rented The City of Ember which is about some sort of apocolypse that happens in the future and a group of scientists and architects and other learned folks built a city underground and sent a group of people to live so that mankind would survive.  For their safety they made it impossible to leave except by following instructions left in a box that was set to open in 200 years.  The box gets misplaced, over 200 years go by and things are getting desperate down below as the food supply and generator were only meant to last 200 years.  Still with me?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Anyway, the point behind all that explanation is that creatures can make their way down to the city and I'm assuming the apocolypse was nuclear in nature because the animals are all huge (moth the size of a dog, etc.) and thus a threat.  At one point there was a giant man-eating mole.  This was a PG kids movie, I swear, and it sounds worse than it really was.  It wasn't scary at all.  Or so we thought.  The Nut starts griping at TGTBT about the movie because she thinks she's going to have bad dreams now.  She didn't, by the way.  She said she was going to have nightmares about the monsters.  TGTBT said, "There aren't any monsters."  She said, "What about that giant thing that ate that man?"  He said, "That wasn't a monster, that was a mole."  She got huffy and crossed her arms and glared and said, "Monster....mole....what's the difference?"  We cracked up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So today we took the girls bowling.  Well, Frito didn't actually bowl but she had a blast pointing out all the balls to me.  And even with TGTBT and I both using the bumpers we had for The Nut, SHE was the only one who had multiple strikes and some of those were without the ball EVER touching the bumpers.  She shamed us.  We then had to deal with a meltdown because she didn't win anything in the crane game and lost her last quarter trying to get a toy out of a machine that TGTBT told her not to use because it was broken.  She thinks she should get a souvenir everywhere she goes.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;On the way home she was told we didn't want to hear a word out of her mouth until we pulled into the driveway.   Sounds harsh if you don't know her and perfectly reasonable if you do.  See, The Nut has no filter.  Literally, every thought that passes through her head also passes through her lips.  Which is fantastic if you're only around her for a few minutes at a time and/or if you're writing a blog.  :o)  Not so great the rest of the time.  We had reached our limits when we were about 20 minutes from home and so we laid down the law.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So, it was very quiet in the car.  Out of the blue, from the direction of Frito's carseat we hear, "Cookieeeeeee."  The problem was that it was said in the most evil, sinister, chill-inducing way it could possibly be said.  TGTBT and I looked at each other and questioned whether we heard what we thought we heard and then I broke into the Friday the 13th, "Ch ch ch ah ah ah ah."  Then FRITO started doing that too!  That was actually funny but the "cookieeeeee" thing was not.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-5652174696641724187?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/5652174696641724187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/had-family-day-today.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/5652174696641724187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/5652174696641724187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/had-family-day-today.html' title='Had a Family Day Today'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-8668075650365596291</id><published>2009-01-23T08:40:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-23T08:57:22.687-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Found The Nut's Wish List</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Apparently they wrote notes to "Santa" as a class assignment because I just found a paper cut out in the shape of Santa with a wish list written on it shoved down in her backpack. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Here it is unedited and unabridged but my notes are in parentheses:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Can I have a poppy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(don't think she's into opium so I'm assuming she meant 'puppy')&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Can I have loche uve kissis &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(lots of kisses?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Can I have a bicke&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; (she does have a bike but it doesn't have a 'c' in it so I guess she&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;wants to upgrade)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Can I have a kiss &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(she seems to have a thing for tubby older men---although who would&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;be a better sugar daddy than Santa?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Can I have a shtrips &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(have no clue what that is)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Can I have a dog&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Can I have a fish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Can I have fun &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(that ones strikes me as a little sad) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Can I have a hot bog &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(just makes me smile)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Can I have a sled &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(because it would get so much use where we live)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Can I have a corn bog &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(she's either obsessed with food or is just throwing in any kind of "dog"&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;she can think of in the hopes of getting at least one)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Can I have a cap &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(she has 2 or 3 hats already so maybe she's going gangsta' now)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I know most kids wish for ponies and going to Disneyland so I want to be clear that her modest list does NOT mean she's neglected. She gets hot bogs and corn bogs on a regular basis. She has had a fish in the past and he lived longer than anyone expected in spite of her putting popcorn and entire strips of chewing gum in his tank for him to eat. I admit that she can never have too many kisses so I'll have to work on giving her as many as I can. She does have fun but never as much as she'd like and that's something else I can work on. She's just flat out of luck on the sled issue though. Maybe we can take a trip this winter and at least let her ride one.........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Oh yeah. She learned how to tie her shoes on her own yesterday. If you see her out somewhere, expect to be shown over and over again. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-8668075650365596291?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/8668075650365596291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/just-found-nuts-wish-list.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/8668075650365596291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/8668075650365596291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/just-found-nuts-wish-list.html' title='Just Found The Nut&apos;s Wish List'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-6460910578842830435</id><published>2009-01-21T19:57:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T20:21:32.242-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Today Sucked Too</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;But for different reasons than yesterday.  Frito managed to work her fingers into the inner workings of her carseat and get them stuck between two pieces of metal.  I didn't know her hand was stuck and pulled her arm out of the strap and her hand POPPED out and she screamed and 3 fingers were red and swollen and 1 was cut.  :o(  I felt awful because she had been crying off and on the entire way home and I didn't know why.  So that solidifies my loss of the mother of the year award.  There's always next year.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;And....we're having issues with The Nut's teacher.  The Nut has been coming home with work in her backpack with no instructions on how it's to be done or when or even IF it's supposed to be turned back in.  There had been papers sent home at the beginning of the year that explained how the routine went such as spelling and vocabulary being sent home Monday to be worked on all week for a test on Friday.  Home readers sent home Monday to be signed and turned in on Thursday.  Lately The Nut has been telling us some different things and we argue with her and it ends in a fight and us forcing her to do it our way because that's what we've been told by the teacher.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Well, I sent a note today asking about it and got a call back where she essentially said that the second half of the school year she expects the students to be responsible for their own homework and she tells them multiple times throughout the day about their assignment and The Nut just needs to learn to pay attention.  These are 1st graders we're talking about.  I told her I disagreed with that and she said she's been teaching for 6 years and knows what 6-year olds are capable of.  How do you argue with that?  There was nothing sent home to let parents know that she would be changing the routine in the middle of the year and nothing to let us know what we're supposed to be enforcing.   How many parents are going to believe their 6-year old when that child starts saying they're supposed to be doing things differently?  Not many I would guess. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;At any rate, I've been irritated all day about it.  To add insult to injury The Nut came home today with a paper for me to sign that said the students should be reading 60 words per minute by the end of the school year and they were tested today.  This is the story they read that they were supposed to be able to read fluently:   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt; One day, Tess Tiger went to visit Vic Hippo.  Vic packed a big basket for a picnic at the pond.  "You bring the lunch," said Tess.  "I'll bring these very important things."  Vic just nodded.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;     They started up the path.  It was a very hot day.  All of a sudden, Vic felt sick.  "Sit under my umbrella," said Tess.  "I'll fan you, too."  "Thanks," said Vic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;     When Vic felt better they went off to the pond.  All of a sudden, Vic stopped and cried, "Oh no!  I forgot the basket!"   "I'll go back and get it," said Tess.  "You go on."  Tess dropped some pebbles as she walked.   She found the picnic basket and started back.    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Anyway.  I'm just frustrated because it seems they expect so much at such a young age nowadays.  I wish I had it in me to homeschool but I just keep holding out hope that each year will be an improvement and things will be better.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I wish I had something funny to report but I'm not if a funny mood today.  Hopefully tomorrow will be better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-6460910578842830435?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/6460910578842830435/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/today-sucked-too.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/6460910578842830435'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/6460910578842830435'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/today-sucked-too.html' title='Today Sucked Too'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-2527737910417534506</id><published>2009-01-19T20:42:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T21:14:26.228-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Worst Afternoon Ever</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Ok, not really.  But nothing seemed to go my way today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I picked up The Nut from school and she was all polite and being sweet after taking an HOUR to get ready this morning and being 10 minutes late to school.  On the way home I was coming up on traffic at a red light and she starts screaming, "Whoa!  Whoa!  You're gonna' wreck!  Slow down, slow down, slow down, STOP!!!"  For the record, I wasn't anywhere close to hitting them.  She then says, "I'm glad you didn't hit that car because then you'd go to jail and I don't want you to go to jail because you'd be DEAD by the time you got out!"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Then, after we get home she says, "Mama are you proud of me?  I'm being all nice and sweet.  That's called relative.  I'm being relative."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I have no idea where that came from but I'll take what I can get.  And in case you're wondering, she stopped "being relative" shortly thereafter.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Once when I was picking her up from Kindergarten the teacher she was standing with burst out laughing right as I pulled up and I could see her getting the other teachers' attention and telling them something.  She opened the car door and I asked what was so funny and she said that The Nut looked at her and said, out of the blue, "Sometimes my daddy calls me a turd."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;That's more like it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I got us a little more settled in today but this just isn't going to be easy.  My number 1 complaint is that the sink is at the very end of the counter with the stove right next to it.  Tell me a man didn't design that layout because there's NOWHERE to put a dish drainer.  So I've been laying dishes out on towels to dry all day long.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I actually had many, many things go wrong for me today.   I won't get into them all but I'll tell you about one because it is just typical me, all the way around.  I was on the phone with TGTBT as I was coming back in from bringing The Nut to school and I saw water all over the floor in front of the fridge and spreading all over the kitchen.  I said, "Uh oh.  The fridge is leaking."  He said, "Oh, I bet the valve on the water dispenser isn't turned sideways."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Sure enough.  Since we don't have a built in water dispenser in this fridge he bought a 2 gallon container that he filled and it has the valve off the front of it that you flip one direction for the water to flow and flip back to shut it off.  He had it turned sideways and the first thing I did this morning was to turn it forward which meant the refrigerator door pressed on it when it was closed.  So almost 2 gallons of water was all over the floor.  Nice.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;There was also an incident this afternoon involving burning rice and a smoke-filled trailer but I won't bore you with the details.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Public Service Announcement:  When you're cooking on a brand new stove, don't just glance at the controls before you work them.  Make sure you know what you're looking at.  PSA over.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The Nut is obsessed about fires and fire safety and often talks about escape plans at random moments.  Today's incident happened in about 5 minutes as I was rushing to take a bath.  I smelled the smoke and came out covered in soap and shampoo to see The Nut on the computer without a CLUE that the trailer was filled with smoke.  I was rushing around turning on vents and opening windows and praying that the 15 smoke alarms wouldn't go off.  (No exaggeration.  There are 3 just within my sight right now in one room.  My guess is whoever FEMA contracted to build the trailers charged $5000 per alarm so they jammed as many in as they could.)  The entire time she's just sitting there on the computer and not even looking at me but saying, "I didn't notice.  I don't know how I didn't notice but I didn't notice.  Good thing the trailer didn't catch on fire, huh?"  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-2527737910417534506?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2527737910417534506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/worst-afternoon-ever.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/2527737910417534506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/2527737910417534506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/worst-afternoon-ever.html' title='Worst Afternoon Ever'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-641789857270254378</id><published>2009-01-17T20:56:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T21:17:45.780-06:00</updated><title type='text'>We are Officially Homeless</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;At least, real-house homeless.  This will be our first night in our FEMA trailer.  And guess what?  The air conditioner is broken.  And I'm hot.  We have the fan going and the windows open so it's not too bad.  But I think TGTBT jumped the gun a bit because this city's water is AWFUL, like you can see sediment in it awful, and we have no water filter nor did we think to bring bottled water.  And I'm thirsty.  So he's off to the Walmartz to get a Pur water filter and some ice trays because we also have no ice.  And he's usually such a good planner.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;The Nut is spending her second night at her grandpa's and Frito is in bed in her new teeny tiny bedroom so it's quiet.   No new stories about The Nut but Frito gave me a good one today.  TGTBT and my brother-in-law and HIS brother moved all the big furniture today so I went through and emptied the dressers and stuff and tried to keep Frito out of their way.  She REALLY wanted to be all up in their business so I stuck her in The Nut's room with Spongebob on the tv (no Mom of the Year award for me........and I was SO close........) and I realized after a few minutes that she was really quiet.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I went in there half expecting to see her asleep on the bed.  Instead, the tv was turned off, all the clothes I had emptied from the dresser were back IN the dresser and Frito was nowhere to be found.  Actually, she was in the closet with the door 3/4 shut and she was pooping.  I've heard LOTS of stories about kids going into closets and pooping but they're usually out of diapers so there's one thing to be thankful for.  Could have been a LOT worse.  And bless her heart, she's the antithesis of her mom.  She loves picking up and organizing things and I think it's adorable even when it means twice the work for me.   I just re-emptied the dresser and made sure the moving men took that one next.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;As far as the house goes, I got to see our almost finished laundry room today.  The walls are textured and painted and all we need is flooring and the trimming stuff and we'll have one room finished!  We're making quite a few changes in the general layout of the house so it's very exciting.  Timing could be better because there's no way we'll be in before the baby comes and I have no idea how the logistics will work with a kid, a toddler and a newborn all in one 3 bedroom trailer but we'll make the best of it!  It could be SO much worse and fully realize how lucky we are that we've had a nice place to stay all these months and never had to live out of a tent like so many have.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Gotta' give a shout out to my mom too for coming 2 days in a row to help pack up and move things and keep Frito entertained.  Thanks, Mom!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-641789857270254378?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/641789857270254378/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/we-are-officially-homeless.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/641789857270254378'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/641789857270254378'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/we-are-officially-homeless.html' title='We are Officially Homeless'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-2545631907722779822</id><published>2009-01-16T12:59:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T20:42:49.325-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Blair Frito</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Remember the end of The Blair Witch Project when the camera pans to the guy standing in the corner? That was the scariest part of the entire movie, IMO. Lately Frito has been trying to scare me. Every time I go to the bathroom (which, at almost 30 weeks pregnant is pretty dang often) she follows me and I see her pass in front of the doorway eyeing me suspiciously. When I'm done I walk out to find her standing about a foot from the edge of the doorway, about 6 inches from the wall and she's stock still just staring at the wall with her head tilted down. She's trying to scare me by hiding and saying 'boo'----or actually, 'bah'----but she doesn't have her timing down yet so I always get the jump on her. What she doesn't know is that me seeing her standing there like that is WAY scarier than having her jump out at me and say, 'bah.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Didn't get a thing packed yesterday, surprise surprise. And TGTBT called me today to let me know he was coming home for lunch so I had to hurry and act like I was cleaning something. :o) But I'm determined to make some headway this afternoon. I'll be taking pictures of the inside of our house (which is all concrete and wall studs at this point) and I'll be documenting the progress as we go along.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Quick story about The Nut before I go. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Hurricane Edouard was heading our way and I was telling Emily about it and she said, "You know what the most powerful thing on earth is? A volcano." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I said, "Well, actually hurricanes are the most powerful force on earth but the one coming now isn't going to be bad."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;She looked at me and her eyes got huge and she said, "You know what another word for 'deadly' is? Doooooormant!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;She's got it down now though. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-2545631907722779822?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/2545631907722779822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/blair-frito.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/2545631907722779822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/2545631907722779822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/blair-frito.html' title='Blair Frito'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-8861251952376985631</id><published>2009-01-15T10:04:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T10:25:40.188-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Didn't you see a penis?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW9itVAcSoI/AAAAAAAAAA4/wlCd3raHIG8/s1600-h/FEMA.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291556618056256130" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW9itVAcSoI/AAAAAAAAAA4/wlCd3raHIG8/s400/FEMA.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW9iceJJsLI/AAAAAAAAAAw/jFresH36zXY/s1600-h/FEMA.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I'm watching Frito walk around in nothing but a diaper and her black boots. Last night it was a diaper and her brown boots. I worry about what her future holds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;So, this is one of the latest bizarre things to come out of The Nut's mouth: Last Sunday my father-in-law was over for supper and he asked if we had decided on a baby name yet. He always wanted a little girl named Shannon so he's pushed that one for all 3 of our girls. No way is she going to be a Shannon. So I told him that right now Audrey was the front-runner but I still wasn't 100% sold on it. The Nut said that she LOVED Audrey and that was the name she wanted for the baby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;I told her that there were still other names that I liked such as Delilah. She said, "Forget Audrey! We have to name her Delilah!" So I told her that I also liked Chloe. All the sudden Chloe was the PERFECT name for the baby. So TGTBT and I were discussing all the choices and The Nut piped up with, "Didn't you see a penis?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;............&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"Um. What?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"Didn't you see a penis?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;At this point FIL was about to pass out and TGTBT and I were confused.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"What do you mean see a penis? On the baby?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"Yes! Didn't you see a penis on the baby?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"No. That's why we're discussing GIRL names. If we had seen a penis we would be discussing BOY names."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"Oh. Well, I like the last one. Showy."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;Short post today because TGTBT really wants to try to move into our FEMA trailer this weekend. We've been living in a rent house (generously donated by my parents) since October and we're ready to be closer to home. And how much closer can we be than in a trailer parked in the front yard? We'll also be able to get Wally back (generously kept by FIL since October) and I'm looking forward to that. Off to start packing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW9itVAcSoI/AAAAAAAAAA4/wlCd3raHIG8/s1600-h/FEMA.bmp"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-8861251952376985631?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/8861251952376985631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/didnt-you-see-penis.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/8861251952376985631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/8861251952376985631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/didnt-you-see-penis.html' title='Didn&apos;t you see a penis?'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW9itVAcSoI/AAAAAAAAAA4/wlCd3raHIG8/s72-c/FEMA.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3203429847228312600.post-333279713573825573</id><published>2009-01-14T12:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T13:20:09.454-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Introduction</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Well!  My sister convinced me to start blogging since I have the time (thanks to a husband who doesn't say much if the laundry isn't done), have plenty of material (thanks to kids who are "quirky") and have strong opinions on many subjects (thanks to--preblog era--having plenty of time to sit around and think about things.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;So!  The basics:  My name is Tiffany.  I'm 31 and have been married to (we'll call him TGTBT, short for Too Good To Be True, because he just is) since November of 1996.  We currently have 2 children, The Nut, who was born in 2002, and Frito, who was born in 2007.  They are both beautiful and "quirky" girls.  I am also 7 months pregnant with another girl who, although has no nickname or definitive real name as of yet, is sure to be just as beautiful and "quirky" as her sisters.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;I became a stay-at-home mom July of 2006 and in the past 2.5 years have had more joy, tears, stress, hugs, slobbery kisses and laugh-out-loud funny moments than I have any right to have.  Staying home surrounded 24/7 by little people isn't easy.  When I decided to stay home I only had one child and I had visions of us in white sundresses holding hands and dancing in fields of daisies.  I would see us laughing and playing in slow motion.  I would see her sitting in my lap as we snuggled and I read "See How Much I Love You" to her.  In short, it would be heaven.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Well, the best laid plans and all that.........you know how it goes.  Reality didn't take long to set it.  I was going to take the first month home to rest and relax and get her adjusted to no more daycare and THEN I would begin to implement my fool-proof plan for mother-daughter bonding.  In August I got pregnant.  By September I was dealing with all-day "morning" sickness and The Nut was pretty much on her own.  Oh, she had fun in between the bouts of neglect and boredom.  Since she was basically responsible for her own sustenance she took it and ran with it.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;I woke one morning and stumbled into the kitchen to find a chair pulled up to the fridge and the freezer door wide open.  I went into The Nut's room and there she was, with the chocolate ice cream that I can only assume she needed to eat to wash down the powdered donuts she started off with.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;She also quickly realized that even if she was doing something that wasn't allowed, there wasn't much I could do to stop her as pretty much every time I sat up and moved I would end up in the bathroom for 5 minutes hunched over the toilet.  So she used that to her advantage too and she had a heck of a good time digging up the flowerbed, pouring her bottle of bubbles onto Wally (our English Bulldog) and harrassing the neighbor's lawn people.  Do you have any idea how powerless you feel when you yell at your 4-year old to get back inside the house and she leans in long enough to tell you she's almost done burying the dog toys and then shuts the door while you have to decide between the ramifcations of letting her disobey or the knowledge that if you move you may very well set off a chain reaction that would leave you even MORE down for the count for the rest of the day?  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;I think this is long enough for an introduction and kind of demoralizing because I wanted to keep this thing succinct and on topic.  If this is an indication of how the rest of this blog is going to be, and come on, let's be honest, we all know it is, then I offer a preemptive apology.  If you knew me in real life this wouldn't be a surprise.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#3333ff;"&gt;Lastly, as for the blog title-----when The Nut was a toddler 'mean beans' was her name for 'green beans.'  Not for any particular reason.  They just were.  And 'Coleslaw' was actually the name she gave to a stuffed bear when she was 3.  The two have absolutely nothing to do with each other save for being food items, and vegetables at that, but I like how it represents (in my mind at least) part of The Nut and she's a big reason for this blog.  And I tend to find obscure references that don't have obvious meaning to be amusing.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3203429847228312600-333279713573825573?l=meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/feeds/333279713573825573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/introduction.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/333279713573825573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3203429847228312600/posts/default/333279713573825573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://meanbeansandcoleslaw.blogspot.com/2009/01/introduction.html' title='Introduction'/><author><name>Tiffany</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16335050594287574029</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_NBAuEVDQ-Mg/SW47w4m4uBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/nYe15UhijaM/S220/sony_010_640+(3).jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
