Two left feet

I was invited out to a bachelorette party last week. It was a small group of us and we started with dinner, then off to the new casino to have a few drinks at the piano bar on the 15th floor. It was very nice. Then off we went to Pepin's for some salsa dancing. The second we walked in, the bachelorette was whisked away on the dance floor. The nice thing about this place is that people come to dance, you don't feel like a piece of meat with guys trying to hook up. Most folks just come for some great dancing. I was next to be asked and warned the guy that I was not any good. He said no problem, and off we went. I tried real hard and did my best to let him take the lead while he spun me around. I felt like I did alright and went back to my seat once the song was over. I danced a bit with the other girls and it wasn't long before my next invitation came along. Just like I had before, I warned him that I wasn't very good. Once again, he said no problem and off we went. The song was rather fast and he immediately started spinning me all over the place. I tried so hard to stay in step, but each spin was increasingly more disastrous. Within seconds, the guy realized how bad I really was. He sure didn't waste anytime. He stopped dancing and took my hand and led me back to my seat. Whoa, the song wasn't even over. Did he really just give up on me that fast? I say down and wasn't sure if I was embarrassed, angry or just plain ole hurt that I was dissed so fast. I ended up laughing about it, but I took a small hit to my ego! Oh well. I guess that is what I get for dancing with another man. Next time I will bring Mr. B with me. According to him, I am a great dancer!

Tom and Jack escape

It was only a matter of time before it happened. Tom and Jack spend a lot of time rubbing up on the fence. Since I am not a farmer girl, I can only guess that they are itching themselves. They finally rubbed enough that the fencing started stretch and create bigger holes. I sent Miss P to check on their water and she came back screaming that they were gone! I ended up finding them down the road. They had actually crossed the bridge by our house that goes to the park and were making their way to the swings. A nice couple led them to an enclosed pasture and left them there. Mr. B had to go to the store to buy a goat collar just to get them home. They really put up a fight. Mr. B fixed the fence and hopefully they stay put. I can't handle looking for goats around my neighborhood on a regular basis.

Snip Snip!

The only way to end the rabbit-like reproduction of children, Mr. B finally agreed to get snipped. It was a long battle that he fought, throwing out all kinds of ridiculous reasons. Everything from "I don't have the time to take off work" to "It will hurt". Really!! Maybe he forgot that I just had 4 children in 5 years, each one without a drop of pain medication. I ended up going on STRIKE in an attempt to speed up his urgency to get the vasectomy. Weeks turned into months and I started to panic. Shortly into month 3, he had finally had enough and agreed.

The day had finally arrived and he was very nervous as the horror stories of co-worker who so kindly shared their experience raced throughout his mind. Thankfully the medication he was given to calm him down, took effect. He went from nervous to drunk like in behavior. The next thing I know, he is doing jumping jacks and boxing with the air in an attempt to get his blood flowing so that the medication would be maximized. It was so hilarious to watch, especially since he was nude from the waist down. Once the assistant came in and prepped the area (boy was he thorough), the doctor came in and took over. I stood inches away from the area to be treated because I had to make sure it was done. Within minutes, a couple cuts, a few burns to close the ends, a couple knots, it was over. If I had known it was that simple to do, I would have done it myself a long time ago.

You would think that would be the end of it, however, this particular procedure requires a 'clearing of the pipes' to be effective. What...25-30 clearings and it needs to be completed in a month. Say what! Now all I am hearing as he chases me around the house is "Doctor's orders". I called into my fabulous cousin who happens to work at this doctor's office and I requested that she ask her doctor if I can send my husband to him for the next 25-30 times and he can handle that in his office. He can just bill my insurance. Shouldn't that be covered?

Anyhow, he recovered like a champ and went out with me that night to celebrate. He actually admitted that he would have done it a long time ago, since it wasn't that bad. Oh, Mr. B, when will you learn to just listen to me.

I am a momma again!

Thanks to FB, I am now the proud momma of two pygmy goats. A friend was giving them away and posted it on FB. As if I did not have enough to do, I immediately responded that I would take them. The only problem was that although I had the land for them, I did not have a corral or anything to enclose them into. I put a call into my niece and asked if they would foster care for until I could prepare a home for them. After almost 2 months, we finally have the 2 newest members of our family, Jack and Tom. Miss M named them and has become quite the Goat Whisperer. She spends quite a bit of time in the fenced area with them, talking and trying to teach them tricks. One of them hopped on its back two legs, and she was certain that it was because of her incredible training. They really do not do much, other than eat and drop pellet sized poop all day. Every now and again they fight each other and bump heads. I am really hoping to find them a Mrs. to keep them company. Anybody needing to get rid of a female goat? I could really use the milk. Goats milk is so expensive!

Dr. Luther King Martin

So I was laying in bed with my oldest daughter and she begins to tell me a story about Dr. Luther King Martin (that is what she called him). She starts telling me that she learned that he helped the black people sit where ever they wanted to on the bus and that he helped the white people be nice to the black people. I realized that this would be a good moment to discuss how we are all different and that no matter what we look like, that we are all the same. I was also curious as to how she saw herself, since growing up I was always confused where I fit in with the whole "white" and "black" thing. She said that she was black and that her dad was also black. I asked her what I was, and she said, "white". That really threw me off since our skin color is the same. I asked her why she thought that, in which she replied in a very matter of fact tone, "well, the white people were always telling the black people what to do, and you are always telling me and dad what to do, so we are black and you are white". Say what? I was speechless.

To V or not to V...that is the question.

During my pregnancy with Baby R, I told Mr. B that he needed to get fixed. I feel as though my body has been through enough with 4 kids and that it is now his turn. At first he was dead set against it, but now that we are full speed with 4 kids he has realized that the time has come to stop the madness. I have been on strike for the last few months because the idea of having another child just blows my mind right now. Now don't get me wrong, I always imagined myself with a lot of kids, but the reality of it is incredibly incredible. If it was not for the enormous amount of help Senora X provides, I would have already lost it. Well, I still do lose it, especially with my 2 year old who has become beyond defiant and has no fear of my spatula. Mr. B is becoming more and more willing to discuss the idea and next week we have a consultation for the big V. He said he will go, but he still hasn't commit ed to the actual procedure. Hmmm, what can I do to persuade him?

The breast feeding shuffle

I feel like I have been nursing for almost 6 years straight...oh wait, I have been. My Baby R is a nursing machine and at almost 10 months, I see no end in sight. Now that I am back to work full time, my life has been a strategic game of timing. Everything revolves around Baby R and his need for "chita". I spend a lot of time driving back and forth from work to home, and making sure that my appointments with my clients allow enough break in between to have a date with my little guy. He still gets up 2 to 3 times a night to eat, and with the madness of the day to day (not to mention the interrupted sleep), I am struggling on what to do. Knowing that he is most likely my last child, I do not want the experience of nursing to end. Is there anything wrong with a nursing 5 year old? On the other hand I could really use a long nap, escape for the weekend with Benny, and drink myself silly....all which are impossible at this point. We have good days and bad days with nursing. The good days are jam packed with intense love while he is eating and the bad days involve biting that brings tears to my eyes. Oh, I don't know. What I do know is that if it were up to my boobs, they would holler.....enough already!

Returning to Reality...YUCK!

Our final days in the D.R. were spent packing and gulping down as much Presidente (the local beer) as possible. On the final day, we were picked up real early by the family that we spent our first few nights with. We wanted to make sure that we left plenty of time so that we did not have to rush. So 4 hours before our flight they drove us to the airport. From the moment we walked into the airport we were met with problems. 2 of the 5 bags were over the weight limit. It was going to be several hundred dollars to send them. We were directed to a store to purchase 2 new bags. While my 3 girls ran wild in the airport, Senora X and I transferred items around to balance them all out. It took quite some time as each time we had to wait in line to weigh it again to see if we had it right. After over an hour burned on just fixing our bags we were finally able to check in. On we went to security, our next problem. Trying to get all 4 kids through security is pretty difficult as shoes come off and we try to keep everyone together in the long line. Right after security you have to pay a "departure" fee. What?? No one told me you had to pay to leave the country. That would have been all fine and dandy, except that as we were driving off from our condo, I gave the rest of my pesos to the maintenance folks who helped us so much during our stay. I gave every last peso away and now I needed over 4,000 pesos to get my family out. By this point Senora X is fading fast after staying up late the night before, not eating breakfast (she's diabetic) and all the stress of trying to get our luggage right and listening to crying kids. As I am having her translate to the lady at the counter that I do not have any money, I notice her start shaking and looking like she is going to pass out. I tell her we need to sit down and regroup and figure out what to do. Thankfully, the lady was very nice and allowed us to sit in her little area. She fetched some juice for Senora X. Once Senora X stopped shaking, the lady escorted me to an ATM machine to withdrawl the cash. I left everyone else at the pay station to avoid ALL of us having to go through security again. She walked me to the other side of the airport and I attempted to get cash, except there was one really big problem. The card that I took out of my wallet was telling me "NSF", I tried another one....same thing. OMG, how am I supposed to get out of this country if I have no money? I remembered that I had one more card in one of my carry on bags. The poor lady had to walk me back through security to her station to get the other card, then all the way back to the ATM. Finally I was able to get what I needed and we could move on. Although the shaking had stopped for Senora X, she was still very sick and was not able to help me the way she usually does which left me alone to manage the kids and the carry ons. By the time we made it to our gate, we had less than 10 minutes to board. Really? We got there 4 hours early and we only had 10 minutes to board? We did not even have time to eat, which lead to the melt down once we boarded the plane. To make a very long story about our plane ride home short, I will just say it was just about one of the worst experiences of my life. The kids struggled with the long trip, Senora X was out of commission on the verge of vomiting just about the entire time, 2 of the 4 had bowel movements that needed to be addressed and we were all tired. When the plane landed, I cried very hard that the nightmare was over. It will be a very, very long time for the memories of that trip home to fade and an even longer time before I attempt to travel with my kiddos by air. Mr. B was there to pick us up and get us home. There is nothing greater than being home!