tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51504466114815943372024-03-04T02:48:54.374-06:00Confessions of an Evil StepmotherEvil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-49671217733364119222013-01-22T11:20:00.002-06:002013-01-22T11:22:20.098-06:00My beautiful AlexandraI don't really update here very much anymore. Between work and taking care of our 3 kids, I'm stretched a little thin (not to mention sleep deprived). But I will try to post updates every once in awhile. <br />
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Our beautiful baby girl decided to come 5 weeks early, but she was perfect and healthy and everything I ever dreamed of. <br />
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She is 10 weeks old now and the absolute joy of our lives. We love her more than words can say. And because she's my very own and I don't have to get permission from anyone else, here is her picture. Isn't she gorgeous?<br />
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<img alt="" aria-busy="false" aria-describedby="fbPhotosSnowliftCaption" class="spotlight" height="960" src="https://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/549878_10151349523069339_969570805_n.jpg" style="height: 799px; width: 599px;" width="720" />Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-84769716139985161412012-07-25T19:51:00.002-05:002012-07-25T19:51:11.570-05:00It's a....GIRL!!<br />
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We are so excited!<br />
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<a href="http://s79.photobucket.com/albums/j151/christinalynn602/?action=view¤t=3a6b87a6.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j151/christinalynn602/3a6b87a6.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket Pictures, Images and Photos" /></a>Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-19523418157916035792012-05-31T08:25:00.001-05:002012-05-31T08:25:08.253-05:00Every Heartbeat Belongs to YouI've been avoiding posting for a while now. I've written and rewritten this entry in my head so many times, but actually sitting down and typing it seems a lot harder for some reason. Maybe because there is no way to put these emotions into words. Or maybe the words just don't exist.<br />
<br />
Two months ago, I saw a second pink line. A month ago, I saw a perfect beating heart. And yesterday, I saw a beautiful baby kicking its legs. <br />
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After 18 months of trying, testing, and failing over and over, we managed to catch that perfect little egg that we saw on ultrasound at the fertility appointment. It's amazing actually--the miracle of it all. <br />
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I wish I could say that I'm blissfully enjoying every minute of this pregnancy but the truth is, I'm a basketcase. There isn't a minute that goes by that I don't worry. I wake up in the middle of the night in a panic, just <em>sure</em> that something has gone wrong. I've avoided getting too attached to the little one inside of me because it hurts too much to think that things can go wrong. <br />
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I spend a lot of time living inside my own head. I've pushed away friends, family, my husband. Anyone who tells me not to worry. Because that's just not possible. It sucks, and it's beyond unfair that my first experience with pregnancy has left me so educated about the things that can go wrong. I wish I was naive again and could un-know all the things I know. But it doesn't work like that.<br />
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Today, I am 12 weeks and 4 days pregnant. I'm waiting for some huge wave of relief to come over me so that I can just believe that I will get to hold this baby in December. I think maybe I'm getting closer. <br />
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There are just some things that can never be taken for granted. <br />Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-76303169696501631452012-04-04T09:03:00.000-05:002012-04-04T09:03:24.294-05:00The Beginning of the EndOne year ago today began the downward spiral that eventually led to my miscarriage. By Thursday, April 7, my heart and my belly were empty. <br />
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This past year has been such a journey. I don't really know any other way to discribe it. The absolute heartbreak I felt when I lost my baby eventually evolved into strength I never knew I had. I found out who my true friends are, and met some more along the way. I can not say enough about the people who have helped me get to this place. A year later, I am not the same person. <br />
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I still think about all the what-ifs. I still know that I should be holding a 3 month old right now. But a big part of my heart has moved past that. The infertility took over all that space in my brain. It's more than I can even describe. An obsession really. There is an end goal, but I had no idea how to get there. I <em>thought</em> I knew, and it seemed pretty easy. Sperm + egg = baby. Apparently not sometimes. <br />
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My first consultation with the fertility specialist went pretty well. Originally, it looked like my egg was too small to survive, but it held on for a few days longer than expected and was the 'perfect' size by then. More on this subject later...<br />
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But for now, I am spending this week mourning what could have been. And being sad for the person I was back on April 4, 2011. I wish I knew then what I know now. I wish I knew how strong I would become and how awesome it would be to be surrounded by people who care and genuinely understand.<br />
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There are things in life you think you would never be able to survive. But you never know what you're capable of pushing though until you have no choice. Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-61956813016965799772012-03-08T20:25:00.000-06:002012-03-08T20:25:30.452-06:00Kindergarten GQQuiz had school pictures today. I picked out his clothes last night like I usually do. He's never really cared what he wears, so I picked out a nice polo shirt and some jeans. <br />
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Well, he saw the outfit and said, "But I need to look nicer!"<br />
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He wanted to wear a tie. But alas, he doesn't actually own a tie. So I suggested a button-down dress shirt with jeans. "Well, ok. but I'll need a vest." <br />
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Okie dokie, he needed a vest. He has one vest, and it is technically a size too small. But hey, the kid wanted to be fancy, so who am I to stand in his way?<br />
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This morning he asked V for hair gel and cologne. I saw the finished product before he left this morning, and holy cow. The cuteness is indescribable. <br />
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I can't wait to see the pictures. GQ's got nothin on this kid.Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-27823341269586417162012-03-06T19:12:00.000-06:002012-03-06T19:12:05.860-06:00IdiotMy mom used to say, "You are the dumbest smart kid I know." Yep. That's me in a nutshell. I'm no genius, but I consider myself fairly intelligent. Then something like this happens.<br />
<br />
I had a perfectly nice lunch break planned today. My boss asked me to run to Office Max on my way back. I did a little happy dance in my head when I realized I'd have time to drive through Starbucks and get a latte. There are few things in this world I love more than an afternoon latte. There are also few things in this world that work out the way I planned.<br />
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Let me preface this by telling you that my car is little more than a gerbil-powered roller skate. Seriously. Calling it a car is pretty generous. <br />
<br />
Whatever you want to call it, the dumb thing died right in the middle of the street as I was backing out of the driveway at work. I had to call V and have him come push me out of the way since I was blocking a pre-school parking lot--"Heeyy! Don't mind me. I just like to hang out in my awesome car in the middle of the street. Jealous?"<br />
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It took three of us--one very nice preschool parent included--to get my car back into the driveway so I was out of the way. The whole time I was thinking, "Please <i>please</i> don't let this cost a lot to fix. We don't have extra money lying around right now."<br />
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Well, it only cost about $3.54 to fix. That's the going rate for a gallon of gas in Iowa these days...<br />
<br />
Idiot.Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-59381104826478714172012-03-05T19:23:00.000-06:002012-03-05T19:23:48.494-06:00Baby StepsDeep breath. I have a Dr. appointment next Tuesday. I finally decided after 18 failed cycles that something must be wrong. I know. Duh, right? Well, I prefer to take the What About Bob approach to healthcare-- baby steps to the elevator. That's all I can handle. <br />
<br />
So I made an appointment for a consultation. And that's all I'm committing to at this point. I know she will suggest bloodwork, but I can't deal with that right now. I have a huge needle phobia. Not a fear, a full-fledged phobia. I'd explain it to you, but you wouldn't believe me. <br />
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I knew going into this that I would have to face my fear to have a baby. And I just assumed I would be willing to do anything once there was another human being hanging out in my uterus depending on me. Maybe not, but that's what I planned on happening--that motherhood would overrule everything else in my brain. I never considered that I'd have to face my fear before getting pregnant. So, I'm not thinking about that right now. <br />
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Right now, I have an appointment next Tuesday afternoon, just to talk. Baby steps.Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-64706760679335226682012-02-16T19:06:00.000-06:002012-02-16T19:06:18.103-06:00ElevenFor about six months now, Minnie and I have been at war. I'm talking door-slamming, screaming, crying fights. It's gotten pretty bad.<br />
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I realize that this is about 90% my fault considering I'm 30, and she's 11. But wow. She has the ability to bring me down to her level in about 3.5 seconds. All the sudden I'm in junior high again and yelling things like, nu UH! <br />
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Two nights ago, she threw a raging fit because I let Quiz watch a show on the "big" tv in the living room while V and I went to a church meeting. This was meant to keep him out of her room and minimize the bickering potential of them being left alone for an hour. So anyway, Minnie starts whining about how she never gets to watch the big tv. All while sitting in her room, in front of her own computer, holding her cell phone, and watching her OWN tv. Yeah. That was about enough to send me over the edge. Seriously, kid. <br />
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What usually ends up happening is that V gets in the middle and tries to shut us up. And then Minnie starts crying to him about how much I hate her and how she's never coming over here again. <br />
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I'm at my wits end and have decided that I'm just not mature enough yet to have an 11 year old. Most parents have 11 years to prepare for this age. To perfect their patience levels and selective hearing. I've had 4 1/2. It's just not enough time to prepare for World War III. I need advanced training. Boot camp perhaps. <br />
<br />
So, I've been feeling pretty inadequate for the past 6 months, wondering how I let it get this bad. Then at church last night, there were 4 of us standing around--all women with 11 or 12 year old daughters. And one mentioned how often she's been fighting with her daughter lately, and the other 2 chimed in with similar horror stories. I was so RELIEVED. It's not just me! It's not just a step parenting problem! <br />
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It's an epidemic, I tell ya. 11 and 12 year old girls need to be quarantined.Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-8999984111035780382012-02-09T20:20:00.001-06:002012-02-09T20:23:24.540-06:00JobI got a job! It pretty much fell out of the sky and landed in my lap just like I wanted it to. It's at a university, which has been my goal since graduating college almost 9 years ago (woah! 9 years? How did that happen?). Anyway, I really like it so far, even though it's only been 4 days. I think I can picture myself there long term, and they've got some great benefits for me and my family. So fingers crossed!<br />
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I'm still adjusting to being away from home all day. I haven't quite figured out the routine of work, kids, laundry,etc. I think it's going to take some getting used to. And my poor dog just doesn't know what to do with herself. She's never had to be home alone so much. <br />
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But it's a good thing. I know we'll find our routine soon enough, and I'm so happy to be employed and not selling anything!Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-24637632734513473602012-01-23T21:41:00.000-06:002012-01-23T21:41:33.719-06:0017It's been a while since I've written about my journey towards pregnancy. Rest assured, we're still trying. In fact, we're trying for the 17th time this cycle. 17. That number just doesn't even seem real. Like most women, I never thought I'd be here. When we made the choice to have more kids, I thought it was that simple. I was as surprised as anyone when it didn't happen the first month. Or the fourth. But then it did happen on the fifth try. And I was relieved, excited, and scared at the same time. <br />
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Obviously, that didn't end the way I wanted it to, and here I am. 12 cycles since the miscarriage and 17 total. I contemplate giving up on a daily basis. I ride the roller coster of planning, trying, hoping, testing, and grief every 24 days. And then it starts all over. <br />
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We've come to the point of some major and scary decisions. Whether or not we decide to pursue medical testing and/or intervention remains to be seen. It's hard to take that next step when I keep thinking next month is it.<br />
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There's been a lot of "next months" though, and the hope is starting to fade little by little.<br />
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And the next person who tells me to "relax and it will happen" might end up getting kicked in a place that results in some fertility problems of their own. :)Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-31764589639198300992012-01-20T21:25:00.003-06:002012-01-20T21:50:32.552-06:00AmbitionIn short, I have none. Not when it comes to a career anyway. I just want a job that doesn't make me watch the clock all day and has decent people to talk to. That's it. And I want this job to fall from the sky and land in my lap and say, "Hey Christie, I am a good job for you. I won't suck. Promise!" <br />
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I used to think grades and degrees were important. I went after A's like they were the keys to eternal life. And now? Who cares? Want to know my college GPA? Didn't think so. Want to read that essay I had published in a journal? No? Me neither. I'm bored just thinking about it. <br />
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Point is, I used to have ambition. I used to want to be <i>somebody</i>. I wanted people to be impressed. But my job experience since college mostly qualifies me to be someone's assistant. Not exactly the most exciting career path. Especially considering how much I hate being told what to do. Occupational hazard, I suppose. <br />
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So maybe that's why I'm not really motivated to keep searching out positions where I am one of 400 applicants bragging about my excellent computer skills and office experience. <br />
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I think I'll just keep watching the sky for that perfectly gift-wrapped job.<br />
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Hey, I can dream.Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-14220673063095126852011-12-24T22:33:00.004-06:002012-01-08T18:51:16.198-06:00Mrs. H, Part II<a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ed-housewright/can-i-please-have-my-name_b_1159311.html?icid=maing-grid7%7Cipad%7Cdl6%7Csec1_lnk3%26pLid%3D122912">http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ed-housewright/can-i-please-have-my-name_b_1159311.html?icid=maing-grid7%7Cipad%7Cdl6%7Csec1_lnk3%26pLid%3D122912</a><br />
<br />
I find this article very interesting because I've often wondered the same thing about First Wife. Why does she want to keep V's last name? Sure the kids have that name, but she has a third child with a different name. AND they were only married for 20 months before they separated. A whole 2 and a half years if you're talking in the legal sense. <br />
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So I don't get it. Why does she want to keep "our" last name? <br />
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Oh well. Guess I'll always be Mrs. H the Second. Or maybe the Third if you count my mother-in-law. <br />
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Originality is overrated.Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-50227265107690933872011-12-23T20:32:00.001-06:002011-12-23T20:33:35.681-06:00Four ChristmasesSanta is coming tonight. Luckily, he's adapted with the times and understands custody arrangements. <br />
<br />
So tomorrow, we are cramming all of Christmas into one day. As usual, we are being pulled In a thousand directions as everyone wants to see the kids for Christmas. It is somehow my fault that we haven't figured out a way to clone the kids so they can be in four places at once. So, we are going to give everyone as much time as possible and probably stress ourselves out in the process. Between the hours of 9:30 am and 9 pm, we will be in the car a total of five hours. We will see V's mom, his aunt, and my grandma (with the rest of my family), then have the kids back to their mom by 9pm. Everyone will just need to be happy with what they get, which will probably go something like this: Hi! Hurry, let's open presents! No, you can't actually play with anything. Ok, pack it up. Bye!<br />
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<br />
I will accept no crabbiness or complaints. This is the only Christmas I get. Come Sunday, V and I will be home alone all day with no kids and no family to see.<br />
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So, suck it up buttercup! It's Christmas so deal with it! :)Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-82051697202635381752011-12-07T20:26:00.000-06:002011-12-07T20:26:11.308-06:00Big SisterMinnie was <i>born</i> to be a big sister. Here she is with her two little brothers, Quiz and E who is 2. <br />
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<a href="http://s79.photobucket.com/albums/j151/christinalynn602/?action=view¤t=694482f5.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j151/christinalynn602/694482f5.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket Pictures, Images and Photos" /></a><br />
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I went with First Wife to their doctor appointment because I needed to get the kids to church right after. It's a coordinated effort everyday to get these kids where they need to be. <br />
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I really like watching Minnie with her littlest brother. I don't see the two of them interact much, but they are really cute together. He lights up when he sees his sister and says, "Hi, Bubba!" Since Minnie calls him Bubba, that's what he calls her too. :)<br />
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I hope I can give her more siblings someday. And I'm pretty sure a sister would be greatly appreciated.Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-34868111564710777432011-12-01T19:58:00.000-06:002011-12-01T19:58:22.209-06:00EavesdroppingHere is a word for word account of a text conversation I had with First Wife last night. Prepare to be utterly horrified on my behalf.<br />
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First Wife: "U butt dialed me earlier. Lol. Sounded like you were talking to a baby."<br />
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This is the part where I panicked and frantically checked my phone. Sure enough, I had called her during V's birthday dinner, but the worst part was that the call had lasted for one minute. <i>A whole minute</i>. Do you know how much embarrassing and/or incriminating stuff I can say in one minute?!<br />
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Me: "Haha that's funny! But there was no baby. That's how I talk to V."<br />
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What? If you're going to be embarrassed you might as well do it right.<br />
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But after about 10 minutes of no response, I decided to put her out of the misery of wondering if I was serious and added, "Just kidding! I was holding my friend's 7 month old at dinner."<br />
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Still no response after that clarification. I guess not everyone appreciates my sense of humor.<br />
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:)Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-44278793847520738062011-11-23T15:11:00.000-06:002011-11-23T15:11:27.726-06:00This Little Light of MineI was supposed to hold you tomorrow. But instead I'm still empty and missing you. <br />
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I lit a candle for you at church. A tiny light for a tiny life that mostly went unnoticed. <br />
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I will never forget.Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-20811343597615836612011-11-18T12:52:00.000-06:002011-11-18T12:52:39.069-06:00SixTo my sweet Quiz who is six on Sunday,<br />
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I have known you for 54 of your 72 months. And even though I missed those first 18 months of your life, you are mine. And always will be. <br />
<br />
Here are six things I know about you:<br />
<br />
1. You are so sweet to animals. Gracie loves to snuggle with you in the mornings, and she doesn't snuggle with just anyone. And Lily gets so excited when she sees you get off the bus everyday. You let her lick your face and always give her a hug when you're going to bed. <br />
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2. You like to know exactly what is coming next. You can't relax unless you have a step by step plan.<br />
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3. You have so much energy. I really don't know where you get it, and I wish you could share it with me. You're always on the move and just love to play.<br />
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4. You LOVE your dad. He's your favorite person in the whole entire world. You look up to him so much and want to do everything he does. <br />
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5. You're a good eater, but you don't like potaoes, rice or pasta. And you say batatoes.<br />
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6. This mixed up family is all you know. You don't see anything different. You don't know that most kids don't switch houses every other night. Your family is your family, and that's it. I don't have a fancy title. I don't even think you know what stepmom means. So I'm just Christie, but you don't remember a time when I wasn't here. I'm yours, and you're mine. That's just the way it is. <br />
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Happy happy birthday, buddy! I love you!Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-64913901213817653472011-11-15T19:29:00.000-06:002011-11-15T19:29:34.607-06:00And Then the Chicken Kiev RevoltedI've been cooking and baking a lot lately. Mostly because I joined a food co-op, so every month I have 5-10 meals ready in my freezer. It's very convenient and is allowing me to cook things I normally wouldn't attempt. And since all the ingredients are included, it's pretty easy. I go once a month and prepare a meal for about 3 hours. Then we go around and collect the meals we ordered from others. It's been great, and everything has been really good so far. <br />
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That being said, the meals are a little more complicated than I'm used to. Left to my own devices, I usually stick with things like tacos, spaghetti, or chili. Meals where the most complicated step is browning some hamburger meat or boiling water. The co-op meals usually involve multiple steps and about an hour to put everything together. This is perfectly ok with me for two reasons. First, my family is probably tired of the variations of Ground Beef Surprise I normally serve them. And I have some extra time on my hands now.<br />
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So far, I've made parmesean breaded chicken tenders, turkey sausage stir fry and cheesy Italian meatloaf. I save the more kid-friendly choices for the nights we have the kids (imaginary kids can be picky like that). <br />
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Tonight was just the two of us, so I decided to attempt the baked chicken kiev. There was melted butter, breading and tying with string involved, but I managed to get it done and in the oven. <br />
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About 15 minutes later, I wanted to flip them so they would brown on both sides. But some of the butter and cheese filling had leaked out and was boiling and popping all over my oven. Being as inexperienced as I am with this whole cooking adventure, I reached in and tried to pull the cookie sheet out. The butter spattered onto my arm, and the kitchen filled with smoke. <br />
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You'll be relieved to know that our smoke detectors are in working order.<br />
<br />
The chicken actually turned out really well after all that. I was pretty proud of my culinary accomplishment-- even though the majority of it was prepared at co-op, I still risked my life for that chicken.<br />
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And I'm sure my arm hair will grow back. Eventually.Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-36017175314180030172011-11-14T10:26:00.000-06:002011-11-14T10:26:50.324-06:00Figments of my ImaginationLast week at church, a woman said to me, "You'll understand when you have <i>real</i> kids." <br />
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Hmmm. I guess Minnie and Quiz are figments of my imagination, which got me thinking. Perhaps I should check myself into one of those straight jacket hospitals. Because I've been talking to imaginary people for 4 and a half <i>years</i>! <br />
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And it doesn't end there. I do about five loads of imaginary laundry each week. And I have fully decorated rooms in my house dedicated to my pretend children. I even cook for them! And this week I'm baking 4 separate birthday treats for Quiz's birthday. I mean, what must those people think at church, hockey, kindergarten, and the skate rink when I volunteer to bring treats for an imaginary child? And about that skate rink. I booked an entire party and sent out invitations for a kid that only exists in my head.<br />
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Man, this problem goes <i>deep</i>. The fact that I even gave these "kids" birthdays says a lot. I will probably be locked up for quite some time to sort this out. Don't get worried if you don't hear from me for awhile. I'm just busy trying to get to the bottom of my delusions. <br />
<br />
:)Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-20222243558795997532011-11-08T21:27:00.001-06:002011-11-08T21:27:52.273-06:00Sorry I've Been AwayEver since upgrading my iPad to ios5, the program I use to write my blog has crashed. I'm open to ap suggestions from any Apple people out there! <br />
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So, sorry I haven't written much but I'll be back. And I have a LOT to say. <br />
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Thanks for sticking around in the meantime. I still read every comment! :) <br />
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Be back soon, promise!Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-38823982679820242462011-10-10T12:59:00.001-05:002011-10-10T12:59:47.894-05:00The Honeymoon PhaseWell, the honeymoon is officially over. V and I celebrated our first anniversary last week. Of course, we've been together 4 1/2 years, so it was only <i>officially</i> the honeymoon phase.<br /><br />It's been kind of a tough year though, so I'm not sure we got to enjoy our first year of marriage as much as we should have. Sure, there were plenty of good times too. But the miscarriage and unemployment overshadowed a lot of it. <br /><br />I'm hoping our second year is just a little easier on us. We're kicking it off with a vacation that we probably can't afford but is desperately needed. We need to get away from ovulation and pregnancy tests, from the uncertainty of my career path, from the stresses of co parenting with his ex. <br /><br />Our life has never been easy, but it's not a bad life. In fact, it's mostly a great life. We usually have to struggle a bit before things work out, and I think that's what ultimately defines us as a couple.<br /><br />So here's to year two. A year that has the potential to be both wonderful and life- changing. <br /><br />Happy Anniversary, V. You're the best husband and father anyone could ever ask for.<br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/10/10/2276.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/10/10/s_2276.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='210' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-50075047495556610092011-09-21T12:17:00.001-05:002011-09-21T12:17:31.301-05:0010 Things You Never Wanted to Know About Me1. I don't eat anything that swims. This includes sea food. Don't tell me that shrimp doesn't taste like fish. I won't eat it.<br /><br />2. I will always switch lanes if I'm behind a vehicle with loose items in the back. I do not wish to be impaled through my windshield at 55 mph.<br /><br />3. I love reality shows on MTV. Real World? Yes. True Life? You bet. Teen Mom? Double yes. I don't care that I am now twice the age of their target audience.<br /><br />4. I am addicted to Facebook. I'm a total creep. And if you leave your profile public, you better believe I am keeping track of you.<br /><br />5. I have never seen a Star Wars, Harry Potter, or Twilight movie. Don't try to convince me that I will like them. I won't. Sue me. <br /><br />6. I brush my teeth with scalding hot water because I think I'm killing more germs that way. I'm probably not.<br /><br />7. I have an English degree so people assume I can spell. Wrong. That's what spellcheck is for.<br /><br />8. I am still paying for said degree and have yet to actually use it for anything other than blogging. For free. Using incomplete sentences, ALL CAPS, and poor grammar none the less.<br /><br />9. I am an excellent cook. Provided there is a box containing all necessary ingredients and directions.<br /><br />10. Caffeine makes me talk really fast. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-48540591303412536152011-09-09T22:49:00.001-05:002011-09-09T22:53:19.206-05:00Quiz-ismsQuiz speaks his own language, one in which my husband and I are fluent. But others often require translations. We're thinking of making our own version of Rosetta Stone or perhaps a Quiz to English dictionary. <br /><br />Here's a short list of our favorite Quiz-isms.<br /><br />Wado = water<br />Fwoot Ninja = Fruit Ninja<br />Neat Thins = Wheat Thins<br />Socko = soccer<br />Bajamas = pajamas<br />Cwistie= Christie (I was City until he was 4, so he's making progress)<br />Fasto= Faster<br />Twansfomas = Transformers<br /><br />First Wife texted me last night and said she was worried about his speech impediment since she assumed it would clear up by now. They were practicing counting, and she had a hard time understanding a lot of what he was saying.<br /><br />The L's and Th's are still hard for him, but he can say them if he really concentrates and slows down. The R's on the other hand, just aren't happening. He's not able to say that sound at all and only gets frustrated (fwustwaited) when he tries. <br /><br />I seem to remember a conversation with his preschool teacher who said not to worry until he's 8. So, until some professional tells me otherwise, I just enjoy the cuteness.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-18862176766283653812011-09-07T20:29:00.001-05:002011-09-07T20:29:37.392-05:00Wife SwapI often feel like I'm on an episode of Wife Swap. You know, when some rich woman from the suburbs swaps lives with a woman on a farm who lets chickens roam around freely in her house? Yeah that's my life. Except i was never rich, and livestock isn't involved. But essentially, I was thrown into the middle of someone else's family and forced to follow their rules. <br /><br />And just like on the show, when it's time to try things my way, everyone drags their feet and insists their real mom does it better.<br /><br />In the end, everyone gets together and agrees a middle ground is the best way. Or they scream at each other, and everyone walks away unchanged and even more solid in their beliefs. It can go either way.<br /><br />Most people say that parenting is nothing like they imagined it would be. That goes double for me, I think. There are so many things I'd do differently if I could. But my hands are tied, and in this case there is no swapping back. <br /><br />So, I just have to learn to live with the figurative free-range chickens.<br /><br /><br /><br /><center><a href='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=11/09/07/3963.jpg'><img src='http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/11/09/07/s_3963.jpg' border='0' width='281' height='187' style='margin:5px'></a></center><br /><br />Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5150446611481594337.post-76483726460370308112011-08-27T21:30:00.001-05:002011-08-27T21:35:49.066-05:00What I'm Supposed to SayI'm supposed to say that even though this is month 10, I'm ok. 10 months isn't that bad. Some people wait years for babies. Some people don't have any kids at all, and I've got 2. I'm supposed to say that I'll just keep trying and that someday everything will work out. I'm supposed to say that God knows best, and He'll give me a baby when the time is right. <br /><br />But I'm tired of saying what I'm supposed to say. What I <i>want</i> to say is this SUCKS. I'm tired of it all. I'm tired of trying and patience and hoping. I'm tired of the schedules and tests and tears. So many tears. None that anyone sees because I just say what I'm supposed to say. <br /><br />But I honestly can't do this anymore. It's killing me. Piece by piece, month by month, test by test, I feel like I'm falling apart. <br /><br />And all the while, in the back of my head I remember my baby. I remember the pure joy. I remember the grief. And I thought I could forget it all if I could just get pregnant again. I thought I could forget how far along I would be. I thought I could just sail right through my due date without a thought. Everything would be ok if only there was another baby to focus on. <br /><br />But there isn't. So I relive all of these emotions with each negative result. <br /><br />And I'm supposed to say that I'm past all that. That I was only 7 weeks along so at least it was still early. That I know it was probably for the best. There was a reason.<br /><br />Supposed to, supposed to, supposed to. <br /><br />It's hard to remember all the things I'm supposed to say when I'm staring at a test, praying for another line. When I'm holding it up to the light to see if I missed something. When I'm standing in the bathroom by myself trying to hold it together. <br /><br />It's so hard to keep saying the things I'm supposed to say. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Evil Stepmotherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11525436680625532471noreply@blogger.com5