My Honey is HOME!!!

In honor of my husband coming home tonight ...

Peace Out,
~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

The Contempt Shown to Parents of Large Families

The Contempt Shown to Parents of Large Families By Rabbi Shmuley Boteach
© 2010 WorldNetDaily.com

As we have a large (and growing) family, this post touched my heart. He expresses so well how we feel!

My favorite parts:

I don't mind that the world doesn't really love babies, just that it pretends to. It's time we got honest about our priorities. Most people get a new car every two or three years, but one or two babies through the life of their marriage is plenty ... If you walk your dog along the street, people will stop you to tell you how cute he is. If you walk down the street with a baby, you might find a woman or two who coos, but for the most part, you'll be utterly ignored.


Indeed, the contempt shown to parents of many children is the last acceptable prejudice in our society...

How strange to live in a world where loving children casts one in infamy. Having a family with many children implies a backwardness and primitivism that is deemed unbecoming in the developed countries of the West. Large families, it is thought, exist only among religious weirdoes or the teeming hovels of the Third World.


Rich countries, by contrast, prefer to increase their standard of living rather than the number of the living ... the birthrate among white Americans is so low that the United States will soon lose its white majority ...

... Contraception has become a synonym for civilization.

A Christian mother of six once wrote to me, "I find it troubling to worry about getting pregnant again ... because I don't want to face the criticism of friends and family. Why do people not see children as a blessing?" A fair question which deserves a fair response.

... Why are people impressed that Jay Leno owns 20 motorcycles, but disgusted that some religious families choose to have 10 children?

Let's not finesse the response. We all know why. A world that has lost its innocence has trouble appreciating beings who are innocent. A world that has become selfish has soured to the idea of leading a life of selflessness. A world that has become grossly materialistic is turned off to the idea of more dependents who consume resources. And a world that mistakenly believes that freedom means a lack of responsibility is opposed to the idea of needy creatures who "tie you down."

By just looking at my children, I become more innocent. By loving them, I become more noble. By spending my money on them rather than myself, I find transcendence. And by being a father and liberating all of the love in my heart, my spirit soars free. I work hard to support a large family and I give up no pleasures in doing so because my children are my foremost pleasure.

Amen and Amen!!!,
~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

We Knew There Would be Bumps ... and a deleted post ...

... and this was not the place to vent.

However, having behaved like a child myself and aired our ninth fight in 18 years, I should tell you what we learned.

Bear and I had a nice talk about 2:00 a.m. This is what we came up with, each of us examining OUR part instead of picking the other apart:

He did not hear me say I was starting dinner. And he did not get the message that I had called to say it would be ready in 30 minutes. It is MY responsibility to make sure that when I tell him something that he actually heard me. And MY responsibility to talk to him directly instead of giving a message and expecting it to be passed on. I know that when I've things on my mind, what is said to me doesn't register and I have NO CLUE that anything was said to me at all. And messages are worthless.

He has lived as a bachelor for 4 1/2 years coming and going and eating as he pleased. He has to remember that he is no longer living alone and has to think about now having other people waiting for him. And yes, he wants us to eat together.

We both lost our tempers. And we let the sun go down.

BUT at least we didn't let it come back up.

It's kinda like when you first get married and have to learn to live with each other. We're having to learn all over again. Only this time we were both able to act like grown ups (well ... after acting like donkey behinds) and look for OUR part and where WE need to change instead of pointing a finger at the other.

And we were mature enough to apologize to our children for how our behavior may have hurt them. This is progress.

The next few months are going to have more bumps in the road. I will remember that I had to tell my husband which light switch turns of which light early this morning. The kids and I have routines, but those routines and ways of doing things will have to change some now, because he is not an outsider coming in. He's the head of our family.  As we acclimate to being together again and working as a team instead of two individuals, we're both going to have to make the willful CHOICE to set ourselves aside and to think of the other first. We use to be really good at it, and we will be again.

After all, isn't that what marriage is all about? And despite our actions last night, I love him with every part of me and I know that he loves me equally as much.

And by the way, he really liked the potatoes and pork chops.




~*~*~Krystal~*~*~ Who learned a little about herself.

Do cats fart?

I wonder about those kind of things.

GOOD NEWS!!!!

My husband came home for good!!

My eldest is now officially a Senior!!

My other son graduated 8th grade and is now a high schooler!!

I am an official homeschooler again!!

It's been a good week.  :)



Peace Out,
~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

Push-Ups at 36 Weeks

We had Mother/Son date night at the kids' school tonight. I did 35 wonderfully executed push ups before the contraction got to me. My back was nice and straight. It was embarrassing to see that 1/3-1/2 of the other women had dropped out before me. The women still doing their "push ups" had their butts up in the air.

SERIOUSLY?!

Anyway, they were allowed to go with their butts up in the air until they finally gave out. But all I know is that THIS pregnant woman did 35 push ups at 36 weeks withOUT having to stick her arse in the air to do them!

Peace Out,
~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

38 Handmade Thank-you Notes FINISHED!

It took quite several days, but I have finally completed making all of my thank-you notes, filling them all in with personal notes, and am mailing a few off today and passing the rest out at church tonight and Sunday.

I'm exhausted!

Doctor says baby looks good. I'm measuring 36 weeks even though I'm 35. I am loosing my plug. Baby is in position. If I go into labor, he's not stopping it.

I'm going to have a baby pretty soon. QUICK! Someone pinch me!

Peace Out,
~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

Tomorrow is the first day of May...

and even though I'm due in June, given my history of early deliveries, I'll be able to say, "I'm probably going to have a baby this month..."
Peace Out,~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

Gestational Diabetes

A few random thoughts as my mind spins...

* They say I have gestational diabetes. I've been checking my blood sugar for 24 hours now and haven't had a high reading once. And I'm still sneaking M&M's here and there.

* I have run out of places to put all of the gifts I received at my shower Sunday. I took over an hour to open them all. It's making my crazy.

* My son doesn't have a crib.

* I need to make some soap. I've been using store bought for too long PLUS I promised Jen some nearly a year ago. Sorry, Jen, I suck. I've not forgotten, I just suck.

* We have a 7 passenger vehicle and a 7 member family. In about 5-6 weeks, we will be an 8 member family with a 7 passenger vehicle. Anyone have a fourth row seat for a 2003 Ford Econoline van complete with bolts and seat belts just laying around somewhere collecting dust? I could really use it!

Beginning to get anxious and high strung,

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

The Weekend is OVER!

Had a long weekend! See, it wasn't just Easter weekend, but also Tater Day weekend. It's a country county celebration that's been going on for well over a hundred years without missing a single year.

So, Saturday was walk around the square and then some to see all of the booths, purchase funnel cakes, ribeye sandwiches, shake-ups, fried Oreos, and $3 bottles of water. It meant live chicks, air soft guns, stuffed animals won playing games, the myriad yard sales, and Rebel flags all over. My favorite was the one with the spleaf in the middle of it.

Long live the South.

She shall rise again.

It's the ultimate in Redneck and Good Ol' Boy fun. I like Rednecks and Good Ol' Boys. They'll happily help you hide the body.

I also had a funeral at noon, for which I had to take the long route around town to get to due to Tater Day.

Sunday morning the kids had fun looking for what all the Easter Bunny had left. Yes, we still do the Easter bunny and while the older ones laugh it off, truth be known, they make sure they're included every year.

Church was a joint service. Can't figure out WHY they continue to do this. I haven't attempted attending one for 2 1/2 years because there is no room. Look, early service fills 75% of the sanctuary. Late service fills about 30%+. That's 105% capacity. And Easter and Christmas there are always extra people because of grandparents, uncles, friends, and C&E only people. We're talking chairs in the walk ways. Way to break fire code.

They initially were going to have my family sit in three different places. You see, it's IMPORTANT for the CHURCH family to worship together ... not so much for INDIVIDUAL families to worship together. I pitched a fit (yeah, I pitched a fit, I get to worship with my husband TEN TIMES A YEAR and I wasn't feeling well). We ended up in two places (well two children sat in front of us and my husband, one of our children, and I shared two chairs), my mother and daughter sat about eight pews up.

Good thing they got my husband and I together as I passed out during service. I really should have had my husband take me down to the lady's sitting room, but we were so packed in that it would have created a large commotion. So I sat there with my head on DH's shoulder.

Safety is always number one, eh? LOL!

After a lasagna dinner (I put them together the night before so I'd only have to pop them in the oven), my husband and children went to enjoy the rides at the fair. I slept for over 2 hours. Evidently Baby Girl has become quite the dare devil and rode all the scary rides. We're talking the ferris wheel with the cages that flip upside down! I LOVE that child of mine!!!

Today was the parade. One of the horses at the end started to freak out and I made my daughter get up as I was getting ready to bolt myself. But he got the horse under control. AMEN!!

Mother came. Mother was good. I actually enjoyed her company. You just never know with her if/when the shoe is gonna drop. She found someone to watch her dog and she kept her mouth shut about it.

Funny, no little dog of hers ... no pee on my carpets. Then again, there was no new little dog for my evil chiuaua to frame.

I just wish she didn't have to curse and swear. An occasional "hell" or "damn" in the privacy of my home I can deal with. I just see no use for "sh*t" on a regular basis, especially around my children or loudly out in public in my small town while we're sitting on the grass in front of my church with church members and children all around waiting for the parade to start is all.

DH and the children are off to get more air soft guns and ammo since today is the last day of Tater Day. I have quiet and alone time for the first time since Friday.

It feels good!

Peace Out,

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

The Newest Up and Coming Annie Oakley

My baby girl, age 8, fired a gun today for the first time. I taught her. My husband taught our 10-year-old son to fire a gun today as well. I'm so proud!!! Our 14-year-old was also given his first gun, a pump action .22 rifle. It's a red letter day at our house!

Peace Out,

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

Big Girl Panties

You should let Dad talk to her because she doesn't listen to you. You show us more respect than she shows you. They all agreed.

That was the consensus of my children in reference to how my mother speaks to me and respects my wishes in regards to my children, my animals, my home. So I thought about this and decided that it wasn't cool. I'm an adult. She will have to start showing me respect or she won't be in my home. I don't have to explain anything. It's my house. And even in hers, she's not talking to me like that anymore.

So yes, I discussed my mother's dog with my mother. You see, we allowed my mother to bring her NON-HOUSEBROKEN dog to our house over Christmas with the following rules:

* No pee pads on the floor (she ALMOST always makes on the pad).
* No defecating on my floor (she just goes where she wants and my mother cleans it up).
* Playpen or crate when she is not being held or played with (to avoid the two previous problems).

My mother followed none well. Although I will say that she took her dog out more than she normally would have (fear she might run off or that my big dogs would frighten her ... no, she was not allowed to HIT MY DOGS WITH THE CANE SHE BROUGHT WITH HER ... you know, just in case they got too close and frightened her dog).

Soooooooooo ... her dog urinated in three spots in my daughter's room, one spot outside my daughter's room, and six spots in one of the boys' room. While I knew she had wet in two of the rooms, I was under the impression that it was one small spot in each. It wasn't until two days ago I knew the amount in my daughter's room and hallway and yesterday that I knew about my son's room (yeah, I've been a bit TIRED and all and just finally got up there to clean my carpets, if I had known...). As a result I spent FOUR HOURS scrubbing up the carpets.

Now SHE says it was MY dogs.

Okay, well, there were no spot in the carpet before she showed up. I know this because the carpets were cleaned before she came. There were no new spots after she left. And the spots would show up in the morning.

Somehow I doubt that my evil chiuaua and toy poodle, which sleep in my room at night, figured out how to open the bedroom door, ran up stairs, wizzed all over the carpets, ran back down stairs, and then shut the bedroom door ...

ALL FOR THE SAKE OF FRAMING HER DOG!

Although it is a funny thought.

So the rules now are:

* The dog does NOT sleep in bed with her. My daughter doesn't want the dog in her bed and it IS her bed. Plus she jumps down and pees everywhere.
* The dog's feet do NOT step foot on my carpet upstairs. At least I'm still ALLOWING her upstairs as my dogs are not. She will be carried up and put in the playpen, and then carried down.
* NO PEE PADS! The dog WILL be crated or in the playpen when she isn't being held or played with.

She said that she wished she had known this sooner because she would have mailed my children's their Easter things (my husband DID speak to her over a week ago about the no pee pad thing and the dog wizzing on the carpet). But yes, she would choose to not visit instead of following the rules for her dog.

And if she doesn't follow these rules, she will be told to leave. My husband doesn't even want the dog in his house at all. Neither do I, in all honesty. However, we are trying to work through this for her and are compromising. I would never even THINK about smoking in her home (I don't smoke anymore, but even if I did, I wouldn't do it). Yet she has no problem with her dog pottying in my home. Her home, her rules (how many times did I hear this one growing up).

Well guess what, this is OUR home ... OUR rules.

That includes her dog too.

Heaven help us,

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

Just Pass Me the Cheese

I'm going to whine now.

Be forewarned.

It's 2:43 in the morning and I've finally give up on sleeping. Let's see, my feet were so swollen that it hurt to walk on them yesterday after church and dinner. I don't eat salt. I don't drink soda or anything with caffeine. I do drink plenty of water, but not too much. I have never had this before. I no longer have thin delicate ankles. I have cankles! My left one was even swollen into my arch. At this time of the morning, having had my feet up for so long, sleeping on my left side, having done stretching exercises to promote circulation, they are still swollen.

I also had to get after my eldest boy tonight. I hate doing that because he is such a good kid. I mean, he doesn't run with a bad crowd or drink or get us any burden that way, but he's not doing his school work, not doing makeup work. He was told a week and a half ago that I wasn't going to treat him like a baby, he would have to reap what he sowed.

I checked his online grades ... not a single change in his habits. A test he was suppose to make up LAST Monday? Still not done. Quiz in history? Got a 60% (he didn't feel like studying... ).

This is not how we raised him!

So I had to tell him, after I picked him up from a youth function where he had a great time, that if he doesn't take the test today, he gets to start catching the bus at 6:45 in the morning instead of getting a ride from me at 7:30. Miss the bus? No problem! School doesn't start until 8:15 ... plenty of time to walk.

Taking away the video game system, the cell phone, all extra curricular activities. Told him if I didn't start seeing a minimum grade of 80% for all assignments, he'd REALLY be treated like a baby. You know, bed time at 8:00, including Friday nights. And then on Saturdays I can get him up bright and early at 6:00 a.m. to start doing all the laundry, vacuuming, mopping, scrubbing, gathering downed branches from all over the side yard. You know, so he can get use to the only type of job he's going to be able to get if he doesn't get his act together.

He wasn't like this until we sent him to public school. When he homeschooed he actually WORKED on his studies. Then he went off to public school where he was over a year ahead and never had to do work or study. He just coasted along.

Now he's still doing it even though his grades are rapidly falling three years later.

And my husband just left back off to work. He was only able to be in for THREE DAYS and won't be back until April.

I'm beat.
I'm whiney.
I'm over it all.


Peace Out,

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

How it Feels to Have a Special Needs Child in Your Life

My second child has asperger's, along with a few other issues. He is very high functioning and should be able to "live on his own" with supervision (we're going to build him a place of his own on our property). While he is nowhere near as "disabled" as this man's grand-daughter, I relate to this song in so many ways. People don't understand that our son is special blessing and gift from God.

I mean that from my heart. I am always proud to say about MY son ... He's With Me ...




Peace Out,

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

Passion That Doesn't Play Out!!!

In honor of my and my Bear's 18th Wedding Anniversary ...

Well, sorta ... we got married on Leap Day!

Passion That Doesn't Play Out? Science Tells Us It's Real

Scientists have long comforted those of us plodding through the tedium that long-term relationships can become by telling us that passion doesn't last for anyone. Within three months to three years, it has done its job of encouraging us to procreate. Perhaps it has kept us together long enough for a child or two to be born. Then, task accomplished, it fades.

People then break up or they don't, and passion changes into something calmer. Researchers call it attachment. It's deep, persistent, comforting. It doesn't keep you up at night.

We believed those researchers. Experience confirmed what they told us. Usually. I have a friend whose fiery passion for her man was the kind that didn't need much foreplay. A bed, a couch, a table, a floor, a wall, a closet, a kitchen. Anyplace. Anytime. They were burning it up. The passion lasted eight years.

"Eight years," I squealed. "Who gets eight years?"

"Then it ended," she said, like I should feel sorry for her. I didn't.

And now it turns out that I have a lot more people not to feel sorry for. The scientists now say they got it wrong. Passion never plays out for a lucky 30 percent of couples.

Researchers discovered this when they put some young people who were recently and madly in love on brain scanners. The kids' brains lit up the screens with feel-good dopamine. Their brains looked like those of people on cocaine.

Then researchers did the same tests with couples who'd been married 20 years and claimed to be still passionately in love. These older couples' brains looked like they were on cocaine too, proving that they weren't just braggarts and liars, as everyone probably assumed. They really were passionately in love, just like the kids.

Where did they find these lucky couples? I certainly don't know any of them. If I do, they've had the grace to keep their mouths shut about it. Twenty years? I don't believe it. I think they were all on cocaine.

Well, I am NOT on cocaine!!! And I am PASSIONATELY in love with my husband!!! We've been together since December 13, 1989 (20 years, 2 months, 2 weeks, and 1 day) and I can honestly and truly say, "A bed, a couch, a table, a floor, a wall, a closet, a kitchen. Anyplace. Anytime." sounds good to me! In fact, I could add a few of my own. :P

Now, if we weren't separated by 1,200 miles on our anniversary we might could handle them all ...

Happy Smooching!

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

Just to Clear a Few Things Up

When a woman gets annoyed because she opened her plastic ware cabinet to put up left overs (from the dinner she made) only to have it all spill out onto the floor because the last couple people to unload the dishwasher just threw everything in there however it landed has NOTHING ... I repeat NOTHING to do with hormones. Mkay?! And no, I should not just be grateful is was put away ... because it wasn't PUT away, it was thrown into a cabinet and the door shut quickly. There's a difference. Just imagine someone doing that to your tools in the shed or your toys in your room, shall we?

Maybe I should try washing all of the lights and whites with a brand new red shirt. I mean after all, at least the clothes were washed, right? But wait, I don't wash the kids' clothes anymore.

Let's explore that one.

You see, after weeks and months and a couple years of getting up at 2:00 a.m. to get all the laundry washed, dried, folded, hung up, etc only to have to ask twenty times over a three day period to have the kids put them up got a bit, shall we say, freaking obnoxious! The best though is on the following laundry day (night?). It's when I'm sorting laundry only to find clean clothes STILL FOLDED thrown into the dirties because it was easier than putting them up. I mean seriously, I'd appreciate it if you'd at least unfold the clothes so it was less of a clear slap in the face.

People, not every time a woman is upset about something is it hormones, or the now popular "chemical imbalance". Too many damned women are on mood altering drugs as it is. We are not all insane.

We are under appreciated.

So let's make this clear. The tupperware cabinet has been arranged the same way for three damned years now. Each type is neatly sorted and stacked with the lids on so they can found easily. There really isn't that much of it. You have to be:
(a) blind
(b) stupid
(c) plain lazy
(d) all of the above
to not be able to figure out where things go.

That also applies to the cooking utensil drawers. There are three of them. The top was has been knives for FOURS YEARS. The second one has been plastics for FOUR YEARS. The third has been metals for FOUR YEARS.

It never ceases to amaze me how all of the items in the kitchen can be found when someone wants them, but no one seems to remember where they go when it's time to put them away. It's a lot like the trash can. We walk by it several times a day. Any of you can tell me when it smells. But when it comes to putting your trash in it or tieing up the bag, for some reason you need to be reminded of its existence.

Let me clue you all in. It's been in the same place for three years. I don't move it around the house to confound and confuse you. It isn't a magic trash can that makes itself invisible at will. It sits by door to the basement, and let me repeat, where it's been for three years.

You see, it isn't that I, or any other woman, has a hormone issue. It isn't that we need drugs to straighten out the chemicals in our brains. What we need is for everyone else to get their acts together and try doing things THE RIGHT WAY and THE FIRST TIME THEY'RE ASKED.

Until then, I'll be like everyone else. I'll do what I want to when I darned well feel like doing it. And if anyone in the household doesn't like it, they can kiss my fat white ever growing ass!

Peace Out,

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~
P.S. But if you REALLY insist that it's drugs I need, lobby the feds to legalize it for heaven's sake and I'll be MORE than happy to oblige.

Quotable Quotes

"Wow, Mom, the baby is making you big here too." - Princess as she patted my right thigh.

Peace Out,

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

Christmas Traditions

Mrs4444 from Half-Past Kissin' Time asked about holiday traditions. I wasn't exactly sure what I was going to post. I have my usually Ma'am-Ma Tinsel and Daddy's Picture story. But this year I just felt that there was something I was missing.

I found it last night when we went to get our tree.

Our first Christmas here, 2006, we were sent by a friend quite a distance for a tree. He said it was a special place with good people and that was where we were to go. We drove 30 minutes, passing other tree lots, to a small family nursery. There was no one there when we got there. But there was this sign:

It says, "If you need a Christmas tree, just help yourself. Pay if you'd like. Put the money in the jar outside the front door. Thanks, Bob Williams"

Here's the jar with some money in it.

Needless to say, having come from a large city, this overwhelming trust was just what we'd moved for.

But the best part was when we met Bob and his son Corey. Corey owns a barbershop but helped with the trees every Christmas. Anyway, inside of Bob's Nursery there is this wall. This very special wall. What made this wall so incredible is that every family that came to get their tree had their children measured there and the child them self wrote their name and dated it.

They'd been doing it since 1977. This was their third wall (paneling) and the first two walls were kept as history. There were people who brought their children there because they were measure there themselves as children.

Here's Bob measuring our daughter in 2006.

We bought our 2006 and 2007 Christmas trees there. He remembered us the second year we came. In 2008 Bear arrived and it was pouring rain and we had to use a fake tree for the first time in our marriage. We were all saddened to have not had one of Bob's trees.

Last night we headed out for our tree at Bob's Nursery. There was a sign with a number to call if we needed help with a tree. I got a hold of Corey who was just closing his barbershop and was heading over. The kids got all excited about being measured on the wall and eagerly looked for where they had been measured before so they could be marked down this year. I asked Corey where Bob was.

Corey just looked at me and shook his head. His Dad had passed away November 30th of this year. I blinked back tears.

We had picked out our tree before we called him and Corey simply loaded it into the back of the van. He had said earlier that his brother may be taking over the nursery, but even if his brother didn't and the nursery closed, that HE would be selling Christmas Trees somewhere. Bear tried to pay him, but he simply said, "Merry Christmas" and sent us on our way.

I cried silently most of the way home. The kids said that they had some tears of their own. And I believe Bear's eyes were a bit moist as well. It's hard to believe how someone you hardly know can touch your heart so deeply, and how loosing them can affect us so much.

So this year I share two traditions, one 32-year old tradition that our family has been part of for just a few short years, and new tradition we start this year. It's a mason jar under the tree with a single word written on the top of the jar, Bob.


Merry Christmas. And may you touch someone's heart this year the way Bob touched ours.

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

Having One of Those Days

I'm having one of those days that totally makes me understand why some animals choose to eat their young.


Blame it on hormones and you die.

Peace Out,

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

"Do you know what causes that?!"

Let's see ...

I believe it involves a penis, a sperm, a vagina, an egg, and on the day this particular child was conceived, it involved an orgasm the size of freaking Texas!

Now shut up, go away, and leave me alone. I'm not feeling particularly pleasant today ...


Peace Out,

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~

A Little Explaining...

I realize that my blog hasn't been too exciting recently. In all honesty, there's only so much I can say about vomiting and morning sickness and too much politics just makes the agita worse. I don't want to become whiny because it's annoying ... (but I inherited a bad economy) ... and it generally isn't me. So please bare with me for the next several weeks. I'm hoping to soon be back to the sharp tongued snarky Krystal that you all know.

Until then, I'll continue spinning with YouTube the songs of yesteryear and my youth ...


Peace Out,

~*~*~Krystal~*~*~