Anatomy of a fit. By: Noob

Good morning, people of the world. I'm guest-blogging for my mommy today. I thought I'd take some time today and show everyone the proper way to pitch a fit. Far too many people of my size are doing it all wrong, and the problem needs to be rectified post haste. Observe.

First, you lie down in the floor and get flat on your back.



Next, roll around and writhe as if in some sort of pain.



Now is the time when you turn onto your side and begin actually crying, or at least make the strong effort to make them think you're crying.



This is the point where you want to show your face and make sure your parent knows you're in the utmost distress. It also helps to begin saying "MOMMY!!!" over and over and over again. If you're going for broke, make sure to sound like you've been possessed by many demons.



Next, roll onto your tummy and assume the "Woe is me" aka "Nobody loves me AT ALL!" posture.



Finally, make sure to get a few good floor kicks in before your mommy speaks sharp to you and tells you to dry it up and go find something to do.



I hope this has been an informative tutorial for any attempts to get your way with your own mommy and daddy. I'll return with more helpful hints in the future. Until then, I remain faithful to the cause of getting your own way.

Sippy Cup Toters, UNITE!

Noob : )

Rescue me!

I went to church yesterday and got something out of both the sunday school lesson and the sermon. A Sunday like that is a rarity for me and I walked out with a fresh feeling within my heart and soul. The end of the sermon was what got my wheels turning about this blog post. The preacher told a story about a little rescued greyhound somewhere across the pond in England. The little dog's name was Jasmine. Jasmine was found in a shed and was malnourished and had suffered abuse at the hands of a human being. She was mistreated and left for dead by someone not of her own species. She was likely taunted and made to feel horrible, both physically and mentally. A police officer found her and turned her over to a rescue society. The society aids in rehabilitating many animals, not just dogs. Jasmine was eventually rehabilitated and, very slowly, learned to trust human beings again. The society began searching for a home for Jasmine, but eventually they realized that Jasmine could do more good for them if she stayed there at the shelter. Jasmine "reached out" to other ailing animals and was sort of their ambassador. Below are some pictures of Jasmine. Most of the pictures feature species that naturally have no business being in close proximity to one another.


A rabbit and a greyhound?! Usually, a greyhound is chasing a fake rabbit around an oval track.



Foxes and hounds? *trumpet blast* Tally-HO! Not here. Jasmine helped bring the fox back to health.

There are a few other pictures featuring Jasmine with a fawn and then a "group shot" of Jasmine, two other mixed breed dogs, an owl, the fawn and the rabbit. By all laws of normalcy, this should have been a frenzy. Each breed has natural enemy tendencies towards the others. Jasmine was rescued and rehabilitated and shared the love and mercy she'd been shown with others.

Now, think about this.

I call myself a Christian. I was once locked in a shed (metaphorically speaking, of course). Satan had me locked away and was doing all sorts of horrible things to me, with me and through me. Then, one day, a one-man rescue society showed up and liberated me. He took one look at me and had pity and wanted nothing more than to make my situation better. He plucked me from that shed and took me in, cleaned me up and rehabilitated me. What's more, he offered to go into the shed and take my place.

The man who was the one-man rescue society is Jesus Christ. He will pull you out of the woodshed and give you a better life, much like the policeman and rescue society did for Jasmine. It's now my job to show that love that Christ showed me. Just like Jasmine did for all those other animals. They didn't look like her, walk like her, "talk" like her or have much in common with them at all. She still showed them love. As a Christian, we (I) should show the love of Christ to those who don't look like us, walk like us, talk like us, live like us, live where we live, etc. God loves all of us and wants to see each and every one of us "rehabilitated".

If you're a Christian, are you living in such a way that will help someone else to get rehabilitated? I challenge you to think about it, pray about it, and see how God would have you respond.

Show the love, brothers and sisters in Christ!

Car seats: they're not optional!!!

It's taken me a while to calm down enough where I could write sensibly about this topic. I'm not going to apologize for the subject matter, either, because I feel so strongly about this subject.

I have always been one of those car seat people. I have always used a size and age-appropriate seat for all three of my children. Imagine my horror when I witnessed a child just over one year of age riding in her mother's lap as she departed church a couple of weeks ago.

I was leaving church and happened to be parked next to someone I only causally know. We say "Hi!" when we pass in the hallways and that's pretty much the extent of it. I've never even been introduced to her husband. She walked up to the passenger side of her car with her child on her hip. I smiled and nodded through my closed window because I was on the phone with King Waffle. I watched her open the front passenger door and sit down with the child on her lap in the front seat. I cut my eyes to the back seat and didn't even see a car seat in the vehicle. I stared in utter disbelief as her husband backed out of the parking spot and proceeded to drive away. All I could do was begin yelling at King Waffle, "Oh my word, they're driving away!!! They have their baby IN THE FRONT SEAT!!!" I had a short, fleeting thought that maybe they drove separately that day and that he was driving her around to her vehicle. The next thing I saw just floored me. They got out into four-lane traffic and still had the baby in the front seat. I can't even say for sure that I saw mom buckle her own seatbelt. I started towards home, completely stunned. Then, my conscience got the best of me and I made a u-turn. We attend a fairly large church and it requires that law enforcement direct traffic after church lets out. I pulled into the turn lane and motioned for the officer to come over to my car. He stepped over and I began to tell him what I'd just witnessed. He seemed concerned as well. I gave him their last name and a description of their car and the direction they'd headed. I later found out that the couple lives less than a quarter mile away from the church and that they were most likely already home by the time I reported them. However, that doesn't excuse the fact that the child was unsecured. The child is young enough that she needs to be in a rear-facing convertible car seat. I don't care how far you're traveling, a child needs to be in a car seat. They're made for a reason. They're made and designed to keep your child safe while traveling. It's likely that the car they were traveling in never exceeded 20 MPH that day. But, what if someone had rear-ended them? What if he'd had a momentary lapse in attention and he rear-ended someone else? In the first situation, it could cause the baby to hit the dash. It might not hurt an adult, but it could really hurt a baby. In the latter situation, it could cause the airbag to deploy and really cause some serious damage. I really want to confront this girl, but I want to do it in a loving way. I want her to never, ever, EVER have her child unsecured while riding in any vehicle. I don't want to be sitting in the service one Sunday morning and hear the preacher say, "We need to remember the ________ family. They were in a crash this week and their baby is in ICU with extensive injuries because she wasn't in a car seat."

Car seats are there for a reason. There are car seat laws for a reason. Both are to keep children safe. I still don't know how to approach her. I don't like confrontation and don't want to make things awkward for any future encounters. The bottom line is that I want her to keep her child safe. I don't want her to suffer the heartache of having to bury her precious daughter.

If I knew then what I know now, I would still have Noob in a rear-facing position even though she's three years old and 30 pounds. I would have rear-faced all of them until they were 35 pounds. Noob will stay in a five-point harness until she will not fit into one anymore. Poodle and Slick are in boosters; Slick still uses the high-back booster to help the seatbelt fit him as it should to offer him maximum protection.

If you're unsure about your state's laws, I urge you to check them out. You can find your state's laws at http://www.seatcheck.org/. If your child will fit in a child safety seat, PLEASE use one. Find a local agency who can install the seat for you where it will offer the most crash protection. There are people who are certified car seat technicians at most police and fire stations. If none are there, they will be able to direct you to a place that will help you find the correct seat and make sure it's safely and securely installed in your vehicle.

I hope the cops found their house that day and gave them some sort of warning or a ticket for not having that sweet baby in her car seat. I hope I'll never see it again.

Check out these links:

http://babyproducts.about.com/b/2009/04/02/aap-to-change-rear-facing-car-seat-recommendations.htm

http://www.healthychildren.org/English/safety-prevention/on-the-go/pages/Car-Safety-Seats-Information-for-Families-2010.aspx?nfstatus=401&nftoken=00000000-0000-0000-0000-000000000000&nfstatusdescription=ERROR%3A+No+local+token

Thirty-six months

For the third time in my life, I am charged with the care and feeding of a three-year-old. Miss Noob turned three years old at 8:03 CST this morning. She's been positively delightful on most days. She's always had pretty much everyone she meets wrapped around her tiny little pinky finger. I think Paw Paw has had the worst time with it; after all, we named Noob after Paw Paw's mama. And after King Waffle's mama, too. At any rate, it's like she has some sort of magic coming off her most of the time. It's like in a cartoon where you see little glowing twinkles around a character and it just encompasses their aura and their being. This is what it's like when you're around Noob. There's just something about her.

The day she was born was not supposed to be the day she was born. She wasn't "due" until March 15th. But, due to a prior c-section with Slick, all the physicians I encountered throughout my pregnancy felt that another c-section would be the safest course of action. I begged and pleaded with anyone who would give me the time of day to please, please, PLEASE not make me have another c-section. I had some post-partum complications and wound up getting a pretty bad infection in my incision. Not to mention that it just HURTS. However, no one would hear of such nonsense and I was scheduled to be sliced and diced on Monday, March 5th, 2007.

On February 24th, I knew that I only had a little over a week before she would be here. I set out that day with a list of things I needed to replenish my baby gear, the most important of which was a car seat for her to ride home in. I'd given my old one away and now needed a new one. I went to the mall and walked and walked and walked and then walked some more to acquire everything I needed. Then I hit Babies R Us and did more walking and shopping and lifting. Then I hit Target and did still more walking and shopping. I went home and crashed because I was so exhausted. I was 36 weeks, 5 days at this point. I woke up Sunday and had that hurty, crampy feeling. I truly just credited it to the previous day's shopping expedition. I went all through Sunday and did okay. Later that night, we were scheduled to take the hospital tour because I'd never delivered at this particular hospital. We show up and take the tour and all the while I had a nagging pain that just wouldn't quit. Nothing major but it was just enough to make you remember it was there. I asked one of the nurses if she could check me out before we left and she informed me that I'd have to be admitted to be checked. I told her that I thought I'd be fine and we headed home.

We got home and tucked Poodle and Slick into bed. We turned in for the night and I woke up on Monday, February 26th at about 5 AM with what had to be contractions. They were coming about every five minutes. I was sitting in the recliner, timing them, and King Waffle came out to check on me. I said I thought I'd be okay and he went to lay back down. Just a few minutes later, I walked into the bedroom and said something I said when we were getting ready for Poodle's birth: "Let's just go. The worst they can do to us is send us back home."

At this point, I have to mention the fact that it was Monday morning. In metro Atlanta, Georgia. Monday morning + rush hour + Georgia Hwy 400 = horrible traffic nightmare. I told King Waffle "let's just go" at 6:45 AM.

We got loaded up and started our 23 mile journey to the hospital. Around mile 15, the traffic gets THICK because some pretty heavily congested streets are all trying to get into that traffic nightmare as well. We had been stop and go pretty much the whole way there. When we got to this point it was more stop and less go and by this time my contractions were about two minutes apart. It took us a solid hour to travel 23 miles.

We finally arrived at the hospital and I was told to "sit in those chairs and wait" while KW got me all registered and admitted. Well, "sit in those chairs and wait" turned into "get her a wheelchair NOW!" after about three minutes of me sitting there groaning. I was put into a little prep room while the nurse took some history. I felt more relaxed to be laying down and could actually converse fairly normally. While KW waited in the hallway with Poodle and Slick, she helped me get changed and quizzed me to make sure I wasn't being beaten at home or anything like that. When she was all done she had me lie back down and started trying to get my IV going. She invited KW and the kids back into the room. The doctor on call poked his head in the room and says, "Hey there! We're gonna get you all taken care of around 10:30. I've got three other sections I gotta do before you and then we're gonna squeeze you in." He was gone as quickly as he came and I just looked at KW and said, "I ain't gonna make it to 10:30." No sooner had I said that, a BIG, HARD contraction happened. Up until this point, I'd been relatively calm and just groaned through the pain. This one made me really yell, so much so that I scared the kids and they were ready to exit in a hurry. Nice nurse stops trying to get my IV going and starts doing a check to see how far along I am. She yells to the other nurse, "She's a nine and her bag of waters is bulging!!!" No sooner than KW got them out the door did another one come and I knew before it happened what it would bring: *sploosh* my water broke.

Nice Nurse grabbed a sheet and threw it over my legs, barked at Other Nurse to help NOW!, and we busted through the door like we were on fire. We went tearing down the hall like we were on a bobsled team! They got me to a room and parked the bed next to a delivery bed. The next words I heard were a little unbelievable and almost made me laugh: "We need you to scoot from this bed onto that bed." *scoff* Yeah right. However, something in me summoned the strength and courage to scoot over and I did. No sooner than I slid into place did I get that urge to push. I pushed once...*bloop* head out! I pushed again...*bloop* It's a girl!!!

My next words were, "Can someone please go get my husband?" A few moments later, Nice Nurse showed up with KW and my other two children. There we were, one big happy family.

I am still grateful to this very day for being able to give birth naturally and in the precise manner I wanted to do so. I don't know if I'll ever have another child, but I'll fight just as hard to have that next one the same way I had this one. Don't be afraid of letting your body do what it was designed to do. Don't be afraid to be in just a little bit of pain for a very short while. It's more like pressure than pain, really. Experiencing natural childbirth is a blessing and a gift and I truly believe everyone should make the effort to at least attempt to give birth as God intended. Without drugs (which can slow labor down), without epidurals (which, if given incorrectly, could paralyze you), without anything to hinder the body's natural processes of delivering a little piece of Heaven right into your waiting arms.

I love my sweet Noob. I hope she lives to be 103. Happy Birthday, my darling!

Here she is then, just moments old:



And here she is now:

Again?!

It's snowing. Again. Granted, it's not the snow that "sticks" but it is nonetheless snow. It's fluffy, white precipitation falling from the sky. It's gotten to the point of annoying and barely pretty anymore. I think it's safe to say that I've seen more snow this winter than I have in any other in my entire 35 years of existence. Just this morning I put the following as my Facebook status:

"Dear God, I think I speak for the majority when I say we are tired of the snow and the cold weather. Please send Spring and warmth, minus Tornado Season, soon. Love, Jfer"

Within an hour, I had four "likes" and three comments that agreed with my sentiments.

However, I have to step back and re-evaluate now.

God knows what we need, and the length of time we will need it. I'm sick of seeing the snow and feeling the cold temperatures chill my skin. I bet the Israelites were sick of having manna fall to the earth every night for all those years too. But, God knew that's what they needed for that season of their life. I imagine some 35 year old woman waking up thousands of years ago, rolling her eyes and sighing, "Again?! Really?!" Much like I did just an hour ago. God knows we need the winter to appreciate the heat and warmth and green and new life that is soon to come.

I'm sure that when we get way down in July and it's 100º F outside and there's just no release from the heat's grip, that I'll wish it were snowing. Just to have that relief for a bit. However, I'm learning a lesson this morning about patience and time and everything happening precisely when it should. In a month, snow will likely be a distant memory and we may have even had a few days where shorts and flip-flops would be entirely justified. I'll try to remind myself of God's perfect timing for every season, in every season.

I give up!

Today is the second day of the Lenten season.

Over the past weekend, and up until (Fat) Tuesday, I contemplated what I might give up or commit to do for the next forty days. Things like, "I could give up Starbucks," or "I could commit to exercising four days a week without fail," or "I could [fill in the blank]" ran through my head in a never-ending stream of nonsense. While I was waiting in the car rider line Tuesday morning, some of Alabama's finest licensed drivers showed up and were in the car rider line with me. At the same time, a lady was on the radio talking about her own Lenten decision. She talked about how one year she gave up sweet tea for Lent and how, at the time, she thought it was a big sacrifice. She then went on to say how stupid and selfish she felt several years later because Christ had given His very life for her and all she could give up was her tea. This statement made my wheels start turning.

At that point, I realized something I could do that would be beneficial to myself as well as help me be more Christ-like. I decided I will quit using words that are not nice words (read: ugly words). They do nothing extra to convey my point within a sentence. They do not make me sound lady-like. Most of all, they do not sound like words that Christ himself would use.

As I mentioned earlier, I was in the car-rider line when I had my epiphany. Just moments prior, I'd been cut off by a lady in a blue Camry. My immediate reaction was not what it should have been. I think I yelled something to the effect of, "What are you doing, you freakin' moron?! I was totally in front of you! Idiot!"

I'm able to convey my words, thoughts, emotions, etc. through this medium without using those colorful adjectives and four-letter flourishes. So, why can't I transfer that to my real life? The one my family sees. The one my kids see. The one my friends at church see. Who knows, they might see me in traffic and, in an instant, change their entire opinion. God may be grooming and nurturing a relationship and I could ruin it by my own impatience.

So far, I've done well. I'm looking at this as a small step on the way to being a better Christian and just a better human-being. Everyone deserves a kind word, whether they can hear it or not.

What can you do to better yourself over the next forty days? I challenge you to not just think about it, but to pray about it and ask God to show you what HE would have you do.

Frivolity

It's been one of those weeks. My inner snob has re-surfaced and I saw something I just adored.

Last Wednesday, on my birthday, I went out riding around and window shopping with Fancy and The Boy. We stopped in the Apple store because The Boy and myself are Mac nerds. We poked around the store and I happened across the cutest little protective case you've ever seen. My inner snob got a little rush of energy when I saw it had the name Kate Spade emblazoned across the front of the box. *drool* Do want.

I picked it off the peg immediately and began fondling the package. I've been wanting/needing a new cover for my iPhone for a couple of months now and this one totally meets and even exceeds my expectations. I turned the package over to check out the price and was pleasantly surprised. It didn't cost any more than some of the other, very basic, very Plain Jane cases I'd previously had my eye on. Then, upon closer inspection, I saw that it was only for the iTouch. I found the nearest Mac Geek and asked him if this case would fit my phone. I was sad when he told me that it would not fit because the phones are just a little thicker than the iTouch. I left. *sigh*

When I got home, I saw where you could get them online. However, I'm an "I want it in my hands now" kind of girl. I don't do much shopping online because I relish the feeling of a fresh "kill" when I shop. I figured if they were available in the Mac store online, then it'd just be a matter of time before they would be available in the retail stores.

Saturday, I was having issues with making my phone sync up with our laptop. I just couldn't figure out what I needed to do to make things right again. I scheduled an appointment at the Genius Bar for Wednesday. When I got to the store on Wednesday, I saw the accessory area had been rearranged and noticed they'd added my soon-to-be case to the line-up. Happy happy joy joy for Jfer! However, I couldn't get it then because I needed to wait for payday. : (

Most of you who know me well will know that I've been slowly but steadily losing weight since July 2009. I've set small goals and rewarded myself with non-food items upon reaching them. Yesterday, Thursday, I reached the 40-pound mark. I was ecstatic and figured that cute little Kate Spade case was the perfect reward for my efforts.

I drove through heavy snow to the Apple store today. (Mainly because I didn't know if I'd be able to get there tomorrow due to the accumulation.) I marched my happy, forty-pounds-lighter butt to the store and bought a little slice of happy for myself. To reward myself and to beat the inner snob down for a while longer. Did I need a Kate Spade case for my phone? No. But I worked my butt off for one and it's what I wanted. : )

It's super cute. I adore it. And if my kids ruin this one, it's coming out of their birthday money.