I am finally reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I think it’s as good as the rest of the world does. The only problem: I am only 105 pages in and I have already started reading ahead. There is no chance I make it to the last 100 pages without reading the end first.

How much fun do you think I had shopping for bras with five boys? In this case, Lance counts as a BOY. As I was shopping, all I could think was “why did I want another baby”. My chest is just getting bigger and bigger and will be for a year after the birth of this child. I so hate this part. God willing, this child will NOT inherit her mom’s boobs. I can promise it completely and utterly sucks.

The Baby Hulk got in trouble the other day and told me that his animals didn’t like me anymore. I didn’t much like them or him either.

Goose is showing over and over that he will be a perfect surgeon and that is not a compliment.

Squirt leaves tomorrow to visit my in-laws. I asked if he was excited, and he said yes, but a little nervous about the flight. I have tried so hard not to instill my fear of flying in my kids, but he is old enough to know how I feel. The sad part is that I could barely come up with something to calm his nerves other than “flying is safer than driving.”

Chelsea left for school last Saturday. We are going to miss her quite a bit. The boys really liked seeing her and it was so cute that her and the boys like the same music! There is still that Alabama problem though…

Please pray for my sweet Jessica’s grandmother. She is not doing well. She has been more than a grandmother to Jessica and I am saddened by her condition. Prayers to her and her dad as well as the rest of her family.

Kobra has a new nickname: Snax. The kid is such a bully when it comes to food and it is so annoying. He also hates his crib now. Lance and I have kept our kids in cribs until they were almost four each. It’s pretty sad, but they never climbed out of the cribs so we never felt the need to move them. Snax has other ideas. He has decided he hates his crib and won’t sleep there. He has slept with Squirt, on a chair, in my bed, and has now finally settled on a pallet on the floor. When we come home from our trip, I’ll be buying another bed.

The worst thing I have done lately is allow one of my good friends to hear about my pregnancy via my blog. I had this thing that I wanted to tell everyone in person. And it worked, mostly. While I was able to tell most of my friends in person, I didn’t get to tell my family in Austin because of Goose’s eye problem and by the time I did have the chance, someone else had already told them. The one chance I had to tell this friend was at her birthday party. I didn’t want to make it about me. So instead, I never told her and she found out the worst way. I promise it wasn’t because I was mad at you, Shea. At least, I didn’t text you the news. I realize it’s different for the younger generation, ie. Chelsea, Squirt, Jessica, but you don’t text certain things: thank you’s, birthday wishes, important news like I’m pregnant. Well, you can text it, but it must be followed up if you are a grown-up, which I guess means 40.

Since I’m pregnant I can’t take Xanax on my flight Wednesday. I feel sorry for Lance who thinks he will be sleeping during the flight. Ha! I have problems with easy flights, much less bumpy ones.

Lance had the great idea to pack early for this trip. We leave Wed morning and it’s now Tuesday morning. We’ve yet to pack a thing.

Happy Birthday Whataburger. I’ll be there tonight!!!

All these guys came on our trip

Chihaga

Smile Contest

Scary child who is over taking pictures

Watching the magic show, the boys loved it!

I think I have the baby blues regarding the explosion of pink that is about to become my home. The more people get excited, the more annoyed I am getting. I can’t explain it. I am sure it has to do with me being defensive about having all boys. You have no idea how tired I get of people “feeling sorry for me for having four boys”, asking “will you just die if you have another boy”. It drives me insane. I love my boys and think they are almost perfect. Basically, I have become the person I was worried Lance would be if we had another boy. And I kind of feel bad, not much, but a little. I mean, how sweet was it today when I ran to the gym to tell the caretakers about the baby and they all asked if they could hug me and one had tears in her eyes. And then there is my doctor who everyone knows I adore, who also started crying.

The reality is that having more than the “normal” amount of children is special to begin with, but to have four children all the same gender is really special and different and I liked it. Come December, I won’t be part of that club anymore. I am sure I’ll be ready for the little girl that will join our family, but a part of me will feel bittersweet to leave this club I’ve been fortunate to be a part of for the last several years.

I am not a fan of change. Lance just got a new phone for me and after checking it out, both he and Chelsea determined I wouldn’t like it because it’s too different from my old phone. And there is nothing like a kid to bring about more change. We have four kids and come this Christmas we’ll add another to the mix!

Let’s just get the rude questions out of the way that even some of my best friends have asked. Mainly, “how did you get Lance to agree to another baby?” What I want to say is either I stopped taking the pill or I cut a hole in the condom, except pretty much everyone knows we practice NFP so that couldn’t be the case. So, yes everybody, Lance is on board with the baby. How are you going to afford five kids? Don’t worry people we’re not asking for your help. We’ve got it under control. And yes, there is enough love in our hearts and home for another baby. Will this change things, most definitely. Will I be taking a huge family vacation every year? Not unless 1560 gives us a huge raise or Lance gets the national recognition he deserves. Were you trying for a girl? No, we weren’t. To be clear, Lance wants a girl, while I am leaning towards another boy. But mainly we just want a baby. And not to be the center of everyone’s jokes about having so many kids because, really, five kids isn’t that many and this is our life and family.

Tomorrow I will be exactly 18 weeks pregnant. Today we had an ultrasound, and it appears I’m in for an even bigger change than I anticipated. We’re having a girl! God help me. One day she will read this and know I was leaning towards a boy, and she will never let me forget it. But that is fine. I’m sure this will be least of my problems with a girl. I’m excited thinking about a perfect Christmas this year with a baby girl in a smocked outfit. The kind of outfits that Lance has never let me buy before now. Lance, my love, I have saved you money on clothing until now, but all bets are off. I want smocked, Janie and Jack and boutique clothes for your little girl. You have been warned.

This morning, I gave the Baby Hulk some milk, and I heard him tell Squirt that it tasted yucky. Being the good mom I am, I poured Squirt a small glass and asked him to taste it for me. (I hate milk and never drink any except a small amount in my cereal, so I wouldn’t know good milk anyway.) Squirt confirmed the milk was indeed bad so I put it aside. It’s a gallon of milk that has an expiration date of August 1, 2010. This milk should have lasted through the weekend, but for four sons who love to drink milk.

Lance came home and saw the almost empty gallon of milk on the counter and asked why I hadn’t poured it down the drain yet. I am taking the almost empty gallon back to the store for a refund. Lance is horrified. He keeps telling me how we are almost done with the milk, but I don’t care. I had to pour out three cups this morning, plus the milk from my cereal. PLUS, this is the second time this is happened in two weeks. I won’t put up with it. I can promise that I will get my refund on this milk. And I will spend my $3.50 how I choose.

I am forty years old. I don’t remember much about my parents turning forty except my dad giving my mom a bouquet that had a black balloon in it. Little did their generation know that my generation would have none of that! No “Over the Kill” crap for us. Please, we’re still having kids in my generation. So here I am: FORTY. And mostly, I feel great. My life isn’t perfect, but it’s more than I ever dreamed it would be. I am married to an amazing man who loves me more than anyone ever could, who loves to spend time with me over any friends, who has given me four wonderful boys and is open to more, who prays with me, goes to church, and is always trying to find ways to make me smile. That alone is reason to be happy, but I have even more reasons to love my life. Especially in the four smiles I see daily. Each child freely tells me how much they love me! I have smart, opinionated, handsome boys who bring me so much happiness. I have great parents who love me dearly, and mostly, keep their opinions to themselves about my choices in life. I have a wonderful brother who always listens when I need it. And I have several really good friends. Next week we are taking a trip with our best friends to celebrate this milestone for three out of four of us. Life doesn’t get much better than this. I hope I always remember and appreciate all I have.

What do you do when someone makes your kid cry? And that someone is a teacher? The Baby Hulk earned his nickname due to his explosive temper. He isn’t as bad as he used to be, but he can still throw a fit in seconds flat, scream-cry at the top of his lungs for seemingly no reason and be an all round pain. But he is my pain and basically just like nobody can talk about my parents, nobody can talk bad about the Baby Hulk.

He has been taking swim lessons since mid-September and in my opinion is pretty decent. The swim teacher disagrees. He is on his ass like BH is training for the three year old Olympics. We had a bad week at the beginning of the summer, but seemed to really improve after that one week. This week he has been bending his knees way too much when he kicks, a new habit, and the teacher is trying to make him stop. Here is the problem: you tell BH to do something, you literally have to ask him three to four times before he responds. Do I like it? Not one bit. It usually results in raised voices, times outs and sometimes crying on his part. Clearly swim coach wasn’t in the mood for that this week so Baby Hulk wasn’t allowed to go on the slide and tower at the end of class on Thursday. Then he started wailing. There had already been some questionable moves at his Wednesday class so I was livid to see my baby crying.

I threw the other kids in the car so I could rescue the BH from his teacher, then proceeded to let him know how pissed I was. I didn’t yell or anything, but I did stop him from starting his next class on time and lecture him on my child. He thinks the BH can do the work and isn’t trying. I was ready to move him to another class or stop lessons for a bit, but BH doesn’t want to change teachers. And this kid will tell you the truth. He has no problems telling us which babysitters he likes and doesn’t like.

I talked to Lance who reminded me how long it takes for us to get BH to clean up or look for his toys. He wasn’t mad about BH not getting to go down the slide. He doesn’t want someone badgering our kid, but he doesn’t mind a reasonable consequence. And quite frankly, BH cries quite a bit so how was this any different besides someone else making him cry.

I was so upset that I didn’t realize what had made me so mad about the entire incident. It was the singling out in front of others. They used to do that shit to Squirt in elementary school during lunch. He has ADHD and wasn’t able to control some of his behavior so he was always in trouble. Plus, he had a teacher I hated who always had him sitting at a table by himself. Once my mom went for grandparents day, and they had to sit alone to eat lunch. BUT that still didn’t count for his lunch detention.

I hate the kind of shit that only serves to make a kid feel like a loser in front of other kids. Some parents don’t care about that stuff and some kids aren’t affected by it. I do. I have no problem (mostly) with anyone giving a reasonable consequence to my kids, but this I won’t allow. My kids may drive me batty at times, and I am so very far from being the mother they deserve, BUT, I can promise that I will never allow someone to eff with them. EVER.

What is more annoying me: me asking how much my foot massage costs at a resort or Kobra crying at least a third of the day? Kobra wins. Especially since I have spent the majority of the time here with him. He has a day and a half left to straighten up his act. Otherwise, when we go to Lost Pines in September, he will be staying with Mimi.

This bitch flower had better bloom before we leave tomorrow. It’s been over a week since Lois the Corpse Flower at Houston’s Museum of Natural Science was set to bloom. They say there is a definite stench in the air and that the flower should bloom within twenty-four hours. It needs to be much faster than that. I have no problem hitting the museum in the middle of the night or super early tomorrow morning, but I want it to be worth my time. How about a birthday present Lois? Get blooming already!

I started celebrating my birthday today,and it was perfect. First, I went to lunch with Marivi. We never go to lunch without our children so today was a huge treat for us. I love having the kids around, but it was so nice to be able to sit and talk without interruption. Marivi gave me a beautiful memory book highlighting our friendship over the past twenty years. I always thought my hair got frizzy after having kids. After looking at some of the pictures, it appears I’ve always had this problem. I also got some awesome Snoopy stuff, which makes me smile every time I look at it. And then there is the cake. She made a perfect birthday cake for me. I can’t say there is much left of it!

Chelsea came over this afternoon bearing sunflowers for me! The family went to Sushi, where the boys mostly behaved. It was fun visiting and discussing her current dating situation. It’s pretty cute watching the boys with her and Kobra actually told her he loved her and gave her a hug.

And lastly, my mother’s day painting from Lance arrived in the mail today. It is a beautiful piece of art with tons of symbolism. I love it and am amazed that my husband had someone create a piece of art just for me. The artist took the time to get to know who I am and then created this piece. Thank you, baby for my gift. You are the best, Lance.