Rock on, Dad. Rock on.

Happy Thursday, one and all!

We are still deep in the throes of Birthday Bonanza Week over here, but I thought I would take a break from all that nonsense to bring you another exciting installment of:

Questions and Their Answers.

Don't pretend you aren't thrilled.

1)  Have you ever been to Mississippi?  If not, how close have you gotten?

No, I am fairly certain I have never been to Mississippi.

How close have I gotten to Mississippi?

I don't know. 

I need a map.

Yet, I am not going to get one.

So, here are the states I have been to, and you can let me know when I was the closest to the grand state of Mississippi.

Florida

Pennsylvania

Delaware

Maryland

Montana

Washington

Idaho

Oregon

California

2)  Have you ever loved another man?
 

Have I ever loved another man?

Well, let's examine this one, shall we?

Here is a picture of me and The Lumberjack on our wedding day:

When we got married, was the Lumberjack a man?

I think he was more of a man-boy.

No.

I did not love another man before the Lumberjack.

I strongly liked some boys.

But no men.

It would have been illegal.

And furthermore, I would have never ever ever called him The Lumberjack back in those days.

No.

I would have called him Mr.-Romantic-Who-Occasionally-Highlights-His-Hair-and-Would-Shop-At-The-Gap-With-Me-and-May-Have-Even-Visited-A-Tanning-Booth-Once-in-Prepartion-for-Prom.

3)  How many kids did you think you would have?

When we were first married and kids seemed far off in our future, we used to talk about having 5 boys.

I am much wiser now and I know what boys are like.

And now I thank God daily that I don't have 5 of them.

Does that sound mean?

I heart my boys.

I just don't think I am a good mom for boys.

Let's examine the facts:

*I dislike dirt

*I dislike guns

*I dislike chaos

*I make rules such as, "No Balls in the House"

*I don't know what to do with little *ahem* units

*I don't know how to properly potty train a boy.

*Boys scare me.

4)  How did you and The Lumberjack meet?

We met in high school during my junior year and his senior year.

We were both dating other people, and neither relationship was going well.

We sat next to each other in accounting class and would discuss our woes.

Right before prom, the guy I was dating broke up with me.

You may ask, "How could anyone ever break up with you, O photogenic one?"

It truly is a mystery.

Any-who, silly boy who broke up with me decided he would still take me to the prom because I had probably already bought a dress (I hadn't) so off we went.

And we sat at the same table as The Lumberjack, aka Mr.-Romantic-Who-Occasionally-Highlights-His-Hair-and-Would-Shop-At-The-Gap-With-Me-and-Even-May-Have-Visited-A-Tanning-Booth-Once-in-Prepartion-for-Prom, and his date, aka the girl he was no longer getting along with.

So there we are.

Me-I am hoping that my date will end up liking me again.

My date- He is wishing he was with someone else

LJ- He is wishing the night was over

LJ's Date-She is wishing the night was over.

We were a fun table.

No one was talking.

Finally, LJ breaks the awkward silence that has hovered over our love-cursed table.

"Hey, Taylor.  On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate this room?"

"Um . . . why?"

"Hey, Taylor.  On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate these salt and pepper shakers?"

I wanted to kill him.

"I don't know."

"Hey, Taylor.  On a scale of 1-10, how would you rate this tablecloth?"

Oh, what a dreadful night that was.

The only person talking to me was this overly tanned guy from my accounting class and all he could think of to talk to me about was rating inanimate objects on a scale of 1-10.

More reasons why that night was dreadful:

1)  The guy I was with did not speak to me the whole night.

2)  I had just had my fourth knee surgery, so I had a stupid knee brace on and I looked pretty lame (no pun intended) when I walked around.

3)  I had just had a really, really, really bad perm.

4)  The lady who gave me a really, really, really bad perm also cut my bangs way, way, way, way too short.

5)  I looked really way stupid.

6)  I didn't have a dress.  So I had to borrow one from my friend who was thinner than I.  It was not flattering.

7)  When my date dropped me off, he spoke to me for the first time.  He said, "Bye.  Thanks for ruining my senior prom."

I really hated that night.

But, lo and behold, LJ and his lady friend broke up, I got over my old beau, and the rest is history.

Fact:  Old boyfriend went on to marry a lovely lady who he is very nice to and they are expecting their 5th child. 

Fact:  There are no hard feelings towards Old boyfriend.

Fact:  If it wasn't for Old boyfriend, I would have never met my Lumberjack.

5)  Are you done having kids?

Hmmm . . .

Let me think.

Yes.

Yes Sir-ee, Bob.

Oh, yes.

Yes, yes, yes.

6)  What is the age difference of your kids?

The girls are 15 months apart.

Then there is a 3 year break.

When Handsome Dude came along, Sweet Pea was 4, Daisy Mae turned 3 the day after he was born.

Then, when Handsome Dude was 15 months old, Little Dude was born.

So we had 4 kids in 5 years.

And no, none of them were planned.

We were shocked and bewildered every time.

And yes, we get asked this a lot:

"Don't you two know how that happens?"

And I have finally came up with the perfect response!

Are you ready for it?

Are you ready for it?

"Yes!  It's so fun!  Have you tried it?"

Oh, dear.

I crossed the line again.

Dear Lord,

Please help this not to be the 1 out of 10 posts my parents read.

Amen.

7)  How do you handle more than one kid?

I don't.

hahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!

But, seriously.

It's a madhouse over here.

One of my tricks when the kids are young is to keep a pack and play in the living room as a playpen.

Because when Little Dude was born, Handsome Dude was 15 months old and he was a busy little punk.

I had to keep Handsome Dude alive.

Even though my world was spinning out of control and I had no handle on anything, I felt keeping him alive was the least I could do.

So, when I would be banished to the couch nursing Little Dude, I would sometimes stick Handsome Dude in the pack and play so he could live to see another day.

Again, it was the least I could do.

He wasn't a fan.

Fact:  Handsome Dude used to find my toilet cleaning brush, use his tiny imagination to turn it into a sword, and chase his sister's all around with it.

And there I would be.

On the couch.

Breastfeeding.

I.

Hate.

Breastfeeding.

My girls would cry out, "Help us!  Help us!"

Yes.

I would be tempted to ignore them.

But again, it is my duty as a mother to not only keep Handsome Dude alive, but to also save my girls from being repeatedly hit by a nasty toilet brush.

So, I would run around the house chasing Handsome Dude, while trying to maintain Little Dude's suction.

I.

Hate.

Breastfeeding.

So, for the sake of keeping my girls from getting stabbed with a toilet brush, keeping Handsome Dude alive, and feeding Little Dude without making him nauseous, I would put Handsome Dude in the pack and play.

Having four is definitely busy.

Thankfully, our girls are old enough to be good helpers.

Also, we aren't as worried about things anymore.

We let more things slide.

For example, I guarantee you I would have never allowed my girls to be ruffians and sit on a couch like this:

No.

That would not have been safe.

Actually, I really don't like it still.

But the Lumberjack keeps thwarting all my good parenting plans.

 

And I am tired of fighting The Lumberjack on safety issues.

Besides.

If I try and argue, he's just going to give me a wedgie.

And he has coerced Little Dude into joining his team.

The team of Not Safe.

 

Rock on, Dad!

Rock on!

 

Alright!

I'm off to plan two more birthday parties!

Wish me luck!

Happy Thursday!

 

P.S.-Guess who is having a BimBaby?