Guest Blog: Celebrate 90 Years

 Please welcome back Patty of Pampered Patty as she holds down the poop today.






My grandfather turned 90 today.  I think about that and it really astounds me that my Poppy is 90.  We had a party for him yesterday at the Vet's home where he now lives.  He had a great time, there were some family members that came from out of town.  Some people he had not seen in such a long time.  It was sweet to see how happy he was. 

He always called everyone " Dear".  When he was asking a question it would he " How about that eh Dear?"  So today all we heard was " Eh dear?"  It was too cute.

On the drive home with my kids I started to think about the last 90 years and what it must be like to be that age.  I know some of his younger years during the war and after were very hard.  He was a very young man in World War II.  He parachuted out of a plane and into the trenches in the dark of night.  What he saw during that night and what came after it had such an impact on him that he was afraid of the dark for the rest of his life.  I used  to ask my grandmother why he slept with the light on.  She replied " He doesn't sleep until the sun comes up sweetie, the light just helps him get through the night."

I think about everything he has seen in his life.  The year he was born was the year the very first robot was built, the birth of artificial life.  He has lived to see some of the greatest inventions like Antibiotics, Insulin, Television, Radio, Polaroid Photography.

Other inventions perhaps not so great like Nuclear Power.

He has also lived to see such atrocities as The Great Depression,  The Holocaust, WW II which he fought in, The bombing of Hiroshima, The Civil Rights Movement, The Vietnam war.  This is to name a few.

He was born at the time of silent movies...in black and white...which then moved in to talking movies or as he called it " the talkies...still in black and white.  He remembers when the movies moved into technicolor, then television as well.  A real feast for the eyes.  He remembers the very first drive-ins.

There is so much he has seen and lived and is still living.  It truly amazes me and makes me realize how much we take for granted.  We are born in a world where there are still inventions but I don't believe they will be as huge as what my grandfather has seen.  It was a time where man and technology came together and made things that changed the world.  And the world itself changed.

It is still changing and it always will except now it seems to be at a faster pace.  Today I have to say it was really nice to take a step back, to rewind a bit.  To listen to my aunts and uncles sing older songs like Old Cape Cod and more.  My children really enjoyed the time with their great grandfather.  I know I certainly did.  When I was little I remember my grandfather was always laughing, telling jokes that my grandmother rolled her eyes at.  he always seemed to have a smile, a quick sense of humor, and a funny giggle. 

Seeing him today, although he may not always remember, he still laughs and smiles.  It is so nice to know that in this changing world there are some things that stay the same.  I take great comfort in that.

Pampered Patty
 
Want to know more about Pampered Patty? Check out her feature here from Friday.

Guest Blog: On Writer's Block

Bella is back from the trenches of {If This Is} Motherhood today. Her prompt was "liberty" and here is her response:







On Writer's Block...

If you’ve ever had writer’s block then you understand just how frustrating it is.  I’ve been suffering with it big time! So when The Drama Mama asked me to guest post, I was thrilled!  I thought to myself “What a great way to get my MoJo back!”  Not.  I sat down, grabbed a cup of coffee and nothing came.

As I write this, I am 3 days late on the deadline and I’m honestly not even sure she will be able to publish this.  But I’m sure as hell going to try.

It isn’t as if I have nothing to write about.  Oh, the boys give me plenty.  There was a time not so long ago when my blog was becoming quite popular before I dropped of the face of the earth and used the cowardly excuse of being overwhelmed at home when well-meaning bloggers sent emails asking about my sudden absence.

Life with boys is never boring.  The Gremlin is an evil genius.  But his genius will likely go unnoticed in the rock star world he is determined to be a part of.  The Professor is a budding paleontologist with a fall back career of a lawyer.  They give me plenty of writing inspiration and they are the star of both my blog and my heart.  I hope that if you visit me, you’ll see just how much my personal sun rises and sets with the two people who mostly drive me nuts, but sometimes surprise even me with their wit, charm and intelligence.

I wish I could guest post something spectacular that would be shared and tweeted and liked a million times.  I wish I’d sign on tomorrow and find a screaming plethora of fans on my blog.  But the truth is, this post is me desperately trying to overcome writer’s block by doing what everyone keeps telling me to do. Writing.


I’m making a come back.  No seriously, I am.  I am going to blog more often even if I feel like there is nothing to say because blogging makes me feel good.  I love to write.  And despite the fact that I am severely handicapped with writer’s block right now, and seriously hating summer vacation because it’s just too long and we’re all bored out of our skulls at this point, I love to write and my blog matters to me.

I haven’t posted in a while, but The Drama Mama has a few of my favorites.  I hope you’ll enjoy my past writes and visit me again for more. I make a public promise here to blog more often even if I’m still struggling with this block! You all can help me out by commenting, because I do love comments!

Thanks for featuring me DM! I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with something brilliant.  I’m sure I will in the future, but I’m not at liberty to discuss that right now.

You know, she did get the "liberty" in there at the end. Haha. I hope you enjoyed, and leave her lots of comment love so she is inspired. 

I'm at the beach, hope you are having a great week.

Guest Blog: Little Red Annie Hood

Annie of Maximum Chaos is back today to tell you all about the red in her life. Enjoy!

When you think of the word "red", what comes to mind?  I think most folks immediately think of the color red and their thoughts flow from there.  Depending on what you do for a living, perhaps you relate "red" with blood, a shiny apple, a perfect tulip, or perhaps Clifford the Big Red Dog.  Red is thought to provoke bold or aggressive emotions. It's a color that can cause a faster heartbeat and breathing. It's supposed to be the most popular restaurant design colors since it's an appetite stimulant.  And of course, red is said to be the color of love and passion.

For me, as a RED HEAD, I've always associated the word/color "red" with my hair.  Approximately only 1-2% of the world population has red hair.  There are also common urban myths about red heads becoming "extinct", which is ridiculous if you think about how genetics word, AND I swear, MN has a really big population of red heads. They are everywhere!!!

I am unable to think of red without connecting the thoughts to my wee ones and my own childhood.

It was apparent from an early age that I was frequently noticed and singled out due to my very red -- almost garishly florescent orange -- hair.

Insert Family Folklore: As newborn babe in the hospital nursery, a daddy escorted his little boy to pick up their newborn.  The daddy asked, "Which one do you think is ours?"  My dad was watching from the wings.  The little boy promptly pointed to me and my glowing hair, which stood out noticeably bright against the blondes, brunettes, and bald little cone heads.  When the daddy gently ushered the little boy to his actual sibling (completely bald, I'm told), the little boy threw such a stinking fit that the dad had to carry the flailing boy from the nursery.  Growing up hearing that story, I was proud of my red hair color.

Fast forward to elementary school. All of the boys teased me about the flamboyant color. It was the bane of my existence. I was shy when I was younger and didn't like the extra attention my bright, flaming hair brought on.

Fast forward to junior high school and high school.  I began to LOVE my red hair.  It was now an asset that set me apart from all of the other girls. I remember being so surprised to find that there are actually some guys who really like (and dare I say, prefer) red heads.  It was a totally different story to be "the red head" the guy across the room was eyeing!  What an advantage -- or at least that is what my 16 year old mind thought.

Fast forward one last time.  I'm in my 30's, married, graying quickly (UGH!!!), and three of our four children are red heads.

What does red mean to me now?

Well, truth be told, I think the first thing that comes to mind now days are those famed RED HEADED TEMPERS and their stubbornness!  Now, I know that's a stereotype and usually I don't like to blather on about stereotypes... However, after being a red head and now having 3 of them, it's easy to wonder if there is something to be said for their hair color affecting their feisty attitudes and unrelenting pig-headedness.

From my experience as a redhead, I think redheads are noticed more, teased more, singled out, and perhaps even labeled.  If that is true, maybe they learn to act differently because of that attention (positive and negative). Do we, as redheads, tend to accept the redhead label as an excuse to act a certain way? Good question.  What do you think?

Are redheads unique, passionate, smart and creative? You bet!!!

"Out of the ash I rise

with my red hair.

And eat men like air."

~ Sylvia Plath

P.S. No photo editing on these pictures. My wee ones hair really is this bright!!!

Guest Blog: Not My Kid--CRAP!

Mommylebron's here. She's been busy as a squirrel stocking up for the winter, so she is sharing her #1 all time favorite post from Rage Against the Washing Machine with you today. Enjoy!!!

During the school year I teach preschool. I am a certified preschool teacher (You didn’t know that did you?) People have to trust me with their children. That’s a good feeling, most of the time. There are some children who are, well, challenging. I say this without malice because Lebella is also “challenging”. Please don’t tell her I said that!

There have been tons a few times that I thought, “Thank goodness and all that is shiny that you are not my child.” For example:

Once, during pick up time, a small group of 3 year olds were sitting quietly in a corner. The fact that they were so quiet should have served as a warning to myself and the other three adults in the room. An ear spitting scream brought us all rushing to the group where a little boy explained to us, between sobs, that he had stood up and taken out his ‘winky’ because “Mya never sawed one.” The little girl next to him apparently leaned over and *cough* bit it. (I knew the exact moment the director told the little girl’s mom because I heard her shriek, “My daughter had a penis in her mouth?!”) Thank goodness and all that is shiny that you are not my children!

Not that it matters, because again, I have LeBella:

One day I was headed back to my class after my not nearly long enough super refreshing lunch break. LeBella’s classroom was on my way, so of course, I stopped to sneak a peek to see what my little hellion darling was up to. I noticed right away a commotion over by the art sinks. It appeared someone had plugged both sinks causing them to overflow onto the counter tops and down to the floor. The children were all in an uproar and the teacher was flitting around in an attempt to restore order. Also, this someone was running and sliding (think ‘slip-n-slide’) across the counters! Who does that?? What kind of parent raises a child like that? Then the evil fun lovin’ child hops up and *gasp* NO!! MY CHILD! FOR THE LOVE OF THAT IS GOOD AND SHINY IT WAS MY CHILD!

So, I did what any dedicated mother would do. I kept walking to my classroom.

My mom tip for the week? If your kid is doing something so unbelievably embarrassing in public, pretend not to notice. Better yet, pretend it’s not your kid!

Guest Blog: Simon Says

Kelley's Family Jewels is back after her Friday feature to guest post today. It's all yours, Kelley!!

Do you watch American Idol?  I did watch the first couple seasons; but really lost interest after that. What I did love, were the bloopers; the bad singers.

What is it about people that draw them to making a fool of them elves on National TV?  

I wonder how bad singers get to the public? I mean most people don’t tend to willfully make fools of themselves on National TV. For each of those bad singers, Simon told them in no uncertain terms how horrible they were and they were genuinely stupefied.

I kept waiting for one of them to say that “yah, I know I stink; but I’m on Idol baby!”

Shoot up the rock and roll sign and say “Elvis has left the building.”

I used to sing in the church choir when I was little, I thought I rocked.  Oh, yes; I

was a superstar at Christmas.  My mom said I was great.  The choir instructor said I was great. That must make it true.

So,   the million dollar question is how did I not end up being one of those stupefied singers bum rushed from AI?

Now that I look back on it, while telling me I was great, my mom also encouraged me to “always try new things.”  Since I know I can’t carry a tune in a bucket (with two hands and six friends).  I am sure I was a super baddie back then and everyone was just being polite.  (It was church for goodness sake; who going to tell a little kid in a cute white robe with gold stitching, she stinks?)

No one, that’s who.

Never did I put the two and two together.  I kept singing in the choir, thinking I was a rock star and tried new things. Eventually, I realized singing was not my strong point, the choir was very ‘sad’ to see me go and I left under the illusion of a retiring Diva. I’m thinking that was a much better way to go than hearing it from Simon.

Guest Blog: All She Wants to Do Is Dance

Please welcome the very funny Sum Sum from Disco Lemonade back today with her take on "dance".








"Dancing is the loftiest, the most moving, the most beautiful of the arts, because it is not mere translation or abstraction from life; it is life itself."  ~H.E.

The sun goes down and a nervous anticipation of what the evening shall bring takes hold of her.  She is uncertain of the exact destination but she knows the surroundings will be dark and dangerous.  The voyage to nowhere begins with illicit, carefree abandon and is shared with friends and freaks alike.  Her heart pounds from her chest as beats are heard in the distance, at that moment she feels the first wave of happiness.  She breaks through the crowd and enters a place that in the daylight would give no evidence that every night beauty blossoms from this exact location.  She can’t restrain her smile.  What she is believed to be has been left at the doorstep and tonight she will lose herself in the lights, fog and turntables.  Surrounded by strangers; the smell is a mixture of floral perfumes, eucalyptus, musk and sweat and the dance created is one of friendship on a level not experienced in the waking light.  The beats drive her senses and move her body as if she is a marionette reenacting life’s greatest tragedy, the loss of sensation.  Her entire night is a choreographed death of what she knows and believes in the sun.  As day breaks, the dance of freedom concludes and reality returns with a sigh.  Once again she finds herself imprisoned by perception, until she can dance again.  

Guest Blog: Redemption=Atonement

Jenn from The Mommy Mambo is back with her take on "redemption." Enjoy!!

Redemption=Atonement

If only, right ladies?

Sorry for the quality of the photos, everyone.  These photos are from a stone age camera, but never-the-less are capable of showing what all us mommas have secretly wished upon our husbands. 

We are both wearing the same shirt (I had to resort to his closet at the end of my pregnancy) but, my Buddha belly was squirming with 4 arms and 4 legs; 8 limbs flailing and jabbing at my organs and ribs.  He got to wear a sandbag under his shirt for a 30 second photo-op at his very own baby shower that I wasn't even invited to!  Poor guy got fed yummy snacks and was oogled by an array of women from the nursing and administrative staff while I sat at home trying to breathe.

Still, the photo of him round and plump with an inverted belly button leads to some pretty good daydreaming when he irritates me.  It's like a voo-doo photo where I imagine him racing to the toilet to pee every 10 minutes, losing complete site of his nether regions, his nose widening to the width of the continental US, his breasts exploding in painful red streaks and leaking, and his toes resembling little smokey sausages.

But is was only a sandbag.  And look what he still got out of the deal?!

Nope.  No real redemption story here.

Well, that is...until all his hair fell out a few months later!

Sweet!

While Jenn is holding down the fort here at The Scoop, I'm over at Rage Against the {Washing} Machine with my Mom's IEP interview. You don't want to miss this! ;)

Guest Post: Potty Training 102

Today's guest is the legendary MommaKiss. She shares with us a fabulous post from her archives about her hilarious adventures in potty training her oldest son...

So this is about potty training. #2. You've been warned.

I originally wrote this in December of 2008. My oldest kid was 3 and a half at the time. And stubborn as HELL. NO idea where he gets it from ;)
Last night we spent 20 glorious minutes with Big Kiss, screaming his head off, naked tushy on the potty.

He hated me, wanted daddy and did not "want to poop on the potty" (thru clenched teeth).

He got off, sweaty and snotty and said he didn't have to go.

Until the "poop's comin out" and he starts dancing and whining again.

I caved - and tried a gimmick I read about. I had some dipes that I'd cut the ass out of. He put that on, sat on the pot and immediately pushed.

KERPLOP!

When he heard the turd hit the water, his saucer eyes said "did you hear that?" I said I did and asked if he was done.

We took off the dipe and when I held it up, he said "My poop broke the diaper!"

Uh, "no kid - Momma cut a hole in there, you don't need a diaper, your poop went right in the water!"

Kid: "Momma, did you trick me?"

He's 3 and a half. Trick me. Damn. I can't get nothin past him.

So now we're doing holey ass diapers. I hope this isn't just another monster that I've created, but a step in the right (diaper free) direction. We shall see.

in the end, it took a week of holes. They eventually became bigger and bigger until it was just the dipe straps around his waist and the diaper was cut clean thru on the bottom. 

Guest Post: Begin to Dream

If you haven't met The Crayon Wrangler, you are missing out. I am very honored to have her hanging out. Today is my 2nd wedding anniversary too. See y'all soon!!

Begin to Dream
Heart pounding.
Mouth Dry.
Hands Shaking.

It’s only been three seconds.

Don’t look.
Breathe.
Not yet.
Breathe.
Don’t dare to dream or fear.
Not Yet.

It’s only been ten seconds.

What will we do?
Don’t fear.
What will they say?
Don’t fear.
You’ve done this before.
Don’t dream.
You know what will come of it.
Don’t dream.

It’s only been one minute.

It’s been long enough, go ahead and look.
Don’t fear.
It’s starting to change.
Don’t dream.
Give it a little bit longer.
Don’t fear.
Make sure it is real.
Don’t dream.

It’s only been two minutes.

Look again.
Begin to dream.
Imagine the swollen belly.
Begin to dream.
Remember the fluttering kicks.
Begin to dream.
See the tiny hands and feet.
Begin to dream.

Heartbeat slows.
Hands Steady.
Fear removed.
Dreams begin.

Guest Blog: Life Without Prompts

On Friday, I interviewed Allison from Life in a Pink Fibro as the Best Scoop of the Week. Today she returns to guest post. Please stop by her place and leave her some comment love, and take a minute to stop by and check out her guest post on The Red Dress Club today, as well. She's on fire!

I was waiting for my prompt. A couple of words to set me on my way. But no. The Drama Mama is trying something different. “No prompt for you,” she decreed.

At first, it was scary. Like trying the trapeze without a safety net. I felt befuddled, bewildered, directionless. It reminded me of those first few days of motherhood, when I would have sold my entire supply of tiny singlets for a prompt. A couple of words to help me navigate my path with assurance.

But life’s not like that, is it? Often we have to find our own way. Work out our own set of instructions. Find our own voice.

We take our prompts from the actions, reactions and, sometimes, inaction of others. Sometimes I wish I could ignore prompts. The wistful look in the eyes of the school’s cake stall/raffle/school magazine organizer as she laments the lack of volunteers on the committee always prompts me to say ‘Oh well, if you’re really short, let me know.’ Of course, they’re always really short. Of course, I find myself front and centre for every fundraising occasion.

Other times, acting on a prompt has been the best thing I’ve ever done. When I was 18 and working as a secretary for a magazing publishing company, a friend and I were chatting at the photocopier (as you do). Another girl, who was working as a cadet journalist at the time, ran up to us in great excitement. “I’ve just been accepted into catering college,” she trilled. “I’m leaving Friday.” She skipped off, leaving us staring in her wake. We got back to the photocopying.

“You know,” said my friend. “If she’s leaving, they’ll be looking for a new cadet. You should go and talk to the boss right now.”

Excitement rose within me – and quickly died. Why would they give it to me? “Me? Do you think so?”

She picked up her pages and gave me a long look. “What have you got to lose?” she asked.

So maybe it wasn’t so much a prompt as a challenge. Either way, I followed it. I marched into the Managing Editor’s office, introduced myself and suggested that he might like to employ me as a journalist.

It was the best move I ever made. Would I have made it without her? I really don’t know.

I’d probably still be there. Standing at the photocopier. Waiting for a prompt.

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Looking for the contest I hinted about? Well, here you go... 

This idea is brought to me by the fabulous Kelly of The Miller Mix. It fits right along with my blog title, plus, it will be fun. It will run from TODAY, October 25, 2010, until midnight, November 1, 2010.

How many times can you say poop in a comment, that still makes sense? Plus, see over -----> in my sidebar? I have this handy little "Top Commenter" widget I call "Top Potty Mouths". Whoever has the most poop-filled comments (AKA a Top Potty Mouth) wins a $25 Starbucks Gift Card to be used soley for Pumpkin Spice Lattes for whatever you want. So, come on, what are you waiting for? Shoot the Poop with me, all week, and win a $25 Starbucks Gift Card. How easy is that?

Need more incentive? Okay, look over -----> on my sidebar again. See at the very top where I have the "Best Scoop of the Week" featured? You also win the honored top slot there for ONE week, Guest posting and interview optional. And? I'll even make you a Top Potty Mouth button to proudly display on your blog.

So? What are you waiting for? Bring out that inner middle school child and let the poop fly!!

Guest Blog: Someday My Prince Will Come

You met her yesterday as the Best Scoop of the Week, and today she is back. Please welcome Everyday Mommy.

Love and Fixation

When Stephanie asked me to Guest blog over here at the Scoop on Poop, I enthusiastically agreed. I had never gust blogged before but what the heck. Then I decided to take a look at what some of her prior guest bloggers had to say and I thought oh my WHAT have I gotten myself into? There have been some really incredible guest bloggers over here! How the heck can I ever toss my hat in with them?

Additionally, I am a "wing and a prayer" type of gal. As a child, I never did homework ahead of time and in my 300+posts of blogging history I have written maybe three of them ahead of time. I write nearly daily, now in two blogs, but I don't plan things out, much. What I do do is decide, as I am writing the days post what the "Next Post" logically might be and write that down. Tomorrow I use that as my prompt to get started. Wait a second, my entire process begins with a prompt and that is exactly what The Drama Mama has given me! Ha! I might actually have a chance here... I may not be everyone's cup of tea but I do have a few followers so if I just do what I always do I'm bound to come up with something!

So now, without further disclaimers and carrying on here is my guest post, on Stephanie's prompts "Love" and "Fixation"

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The first thing that came to mind when I saw the word "Fixation" was of course "Oral Fixation" but since my very shy hubby would be mortified if I discussed our sex life and/or I really don't have the heart to catalog all the odd and foreign objects my preschooler shoves in her mouth this first definition is out the window. Instead I will lean more toward the obsession sort of meaning of Fixation. And contrasting Fixation with Love brings me squarely to the story of me and my sweet Hubby.

You see prior to meeting my Sweetie I would classify my Love relationships as pretty fixated in one way or another. In my twenties my fixation was on "finding the one" and I would serial date dozens of men and examine them all in terms of some perfect check list I had concocted. Perfectly nice men were ditched for being too poor, too rich, too skinny, too fat, too something. Bottom line, no one was ever going to be right because I wasn't really ready to be in a relationship.

By the time I was in my thirties I was convinced I had figured it all out so now I fixated on making things work and ended up in a couple of seriously out of balance relationships because I could "make it work." Really the only problem with this can do attitude is that it really only works when both of you are playing the same game. I spent five years trying to make a long term committed relationship lead to marriage with a guy who never, and still hasn't as of this writing, had any interest in being married. He enjoyed our relationship well enough but he was NEVER going to take it to the next level because it wasn't what he wanted. All my "work" just made me more frustrated and our entire relationship a lot less fun. In the end it was my fixation that kept us together not any long term dreams or compatibility. If I had been honest about this from the start we both could have been free to pursue our true desires a lot sooner.

Following my disheartening experience "trying to make things work" I decided I didn't know a damn thing about love or relationships and became a serial dater once more. On line dating, blind dates, bar dates, fix up dates, you name it I dated it! Mostly, I was fixated on having fun. That was until I met the man who became known as the "Rat Bastard" to all my friends. Unbelievably enough this guy actually made a pass at my sister while joining me at my brother's Thanksgiving dinner and I still continued to date him! Let's all say dysfunctional FIXATION together! I don't know what it was about him. Nothing he ever did or said ever added up to him being the kind of guy I would want to spend my life with but chance after chance I gave him. I finally moved 3000 miles away but even this did not stop the insanity. After a two year moratorium on the relationship I answered his call and then spent another on and off again year until I FINALLY felt my heart harden enough to say my final goodbye.

At this point in time, I am living in San Francisco and I feel my heart open to the idea of Love. Not a crazy madness sort of fixation but a true, nurturing, happy and reciprocal kind of love. I also have the remarkable feeling that I will know it when I see it and until it happens I can be truly happy and content on my own. I dated a lot during this period of time but for the first time in my life it was fixation free. I could meet the men who called or wrote me with an open heart. There was no forcing or changing myself to fit their or my fixation. We were all able to have fun and fun I definitely had.  Finally as I began to tire of my popcorn style of dating I began to consider what I wanted. What would my lifetime of love might look like? It came down to one sentence:

I want to be wooed and wowed for the rest of my life!

I was willing to offer the same in return but bottom line, after decades of dating, this is what I wanted. On a lark I posted an ad in Craig's list saying that very thing. Happily, oddly, magically my Sweetie answered this ad. Within a week we were dating exclusively and the Wooing and Wowing was underway... Once he surprised me for the long 4th of July weekend by saying "Meet me at the Airport with a bathing suit and a dress." and took me to Maui!! On a weekly basis he would surprise me with a love note, flowers or just an unexpected visit.  By the time he met my friends and family we were all ready engaged.  (You can read 101 reasons why I love this fabulous man in this Everyday Bliss Post)

We returned to Maui and eloped!

We started talking about starting a family but since we were already in our 40's I really had little hope. I had never been pregnant and given the multitude of risky encounters during my 20+ years of dating history it seemed likely that I may not be able. I had in fact, often said I would be damn upset if given all my scary close calls, if I were to find out I wasn't even able to get pregnant... you know all that worry for nothing! Surprise, surprise on our first try we were lucky enough to conceive!

Today it is a little more then four years ago when I posted that craig's list ad and I am here to tell you that LOVE dreams do come true! My Sweetie continues to woo and wow me on a daily basis and because of his insistence on trying to get pregnant... even against the odds... I have the profound privilege of being my daughter's mommy.  Perhaps it took me longer then most but when I finally gave up fixation for true love EVERYTHING became possible!

~~~~~~~~~~

Stephanie, Thank you so much for allowing my little jaunt down memory lane!! I hope I've honored the spirit of your request and all narcissism aside, hope your readers enjoy my little tale. Go for LOVE! FIXATION is only a sham!!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Thanks for guest posting today, Kathy!! Stop by her blogs, Everyday Mommy and Everyday Bliss, and leave her some love. Have a great weekend, my friends!

Guest Blog: Diving Into Prader-Willi Syndrome

On Friday, you met Ali from Diving Into the Waves. She told you a little about how parenting to Dean has changed her life. She began to tell you about a disorder that has no cure called Prader-Willi Syndrome, or PWS for short. Today she is back to guest post and tell you more about her wonderful Dean and PWS. I'm keeping this short because this really is an important cause to me, and I feel that there isn't enough information about it out there. I didn't even know this disorder existed until Ali had Dean. And, I can totally relate to everything she says in her post today. I think you will too.

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I'm a little obsessed with the TLC channel on TV. I think often about their motto, "Life Unscripted." It's not just a cute tag line, or really anything unique to them and the people on their shows. My own script for life in the end would probably look quite boring compared to what we have actually experienced. 

About six years ago, I was watching the Dr. Phil Show (I know...) and there was an episode about childhood obesity. I watched as I judged the parents who let their kids eat crap and in whatever quantity and then didn't understand why their children were unhealthy. Yup, I judged. And then there was a woman with a daughter with a rare genetic disorder called Prader-Willi syndrome. Dr. Phil explained that in PWS, the hypothalamus - an actual organ in the brain - does not function properly and they are hard-wired to be hungry all the time. ALL the time. As in, eat a full meal, and they're still physiologically hungry. Coupled with a naturally low metabolism, these children battle obesity and other health problems for the duration of their lives. Left to their own control, they would eat themselves literally to death. I specifically remember being horrified by the description of this and thought, that would be horrible to have a child with that syndrome. That would be horrible to be a person with that syndrome. 

Fast forward five years and I'm 35 weeks pregnant. I go in for a non-stress test because I had a lot of amniotic fluid and my suddenly "normal" pregnancy goes awry. I fail the test because my baby - a boy we would name Dean - was not moving much. They measure my amniotic fluid again and it's off the charts. The doctors walk into my room where I was told to wait, and I knew. "We're having a baby today, aren't we...". "Yes," my OB replied. I had a few hours to process this and the fears I'd had throughout my pregnancy that something was just a bit *off* suddenly were coming true. At 2:33pm, my sweet Dean Thomas was born... barely crying. He sounded like a little lamb bleating in confusion. He could barely move his limbs. His body temperature was all over the place. He wouldn't eat. His blood sugars were low. He was dangerously anemic. He slept 23.5 hours a day. Over the next few weeks as countless specialists swarmed around Dean's bay in the NICU and one amazing geneticist among them said the words, "Prader-Willi syndrome" once again, I was transported back to that episode on the Dr. Phil Show. Talk about life unscripted. 

Dean turned one on April 28 and he is doing so well. We had no clue what to expect for him a year ago and honestly, in many ways we still don't. Rather than let PWS script his life, we want *him* to write his own script. We have been through a lot in the last year: a month in the NICU, three surgeries, nine months on a feeding tube, two sleep studies, daily growth hormone injections (which he'll have for life), countless specialist visits and weight checks, weekly speech therapy for feeding, physical therapy 1-2 times a week, even flying yearly to Florida to meet with a PWS specialist (since, being a rare disorder, many doctors just aren't familiar with correct treatment). And this is all for a little boy with PWS who for the most part, is doing very well. His development is quite delayed, but he is happy and healthy and so cute it should be illegal. :) 

The worst part yet is the endless hunger that will set in at some point, we don't know when. Typically this is between two and eight years of age. Until then, we plug away and just try to give him and Cole, our older son, the best lives we can. THERE IS NO CURE FOR PRADER-WILLI SYNDROME. Dean and the other angels with PWS need your help to fight this awful disorder. It is a chromosomal disorder that randomly strikes about 1 in 15,000 people across gender and racial lines. Many people are walking around with PWS and don't even know it. PWS is not routinely screened for and most healthcare professionals know little to nothing about it. I know there are a gazillion other causes that are probably dear to your heart - I know that is the case for me! But PWS has affected our family in a way that obviously we cannot deny, and we want a cure. Please visit FPWR.org, the website of the Foundation for Prader-Willi Research, where you can learn more about PWS, how you can get involved, and how you can donate. If nothing else, we just want you to *know* about this. God bless you guys!!!

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 And, just in case you forgot, Ali really is an amazing mom, woman and friend. Seriously. She even makes a line of gorgeous jewelry she calls "You're Beautiful".

 Leave us some love, and if you are interested in knowing more about PWS, feel free to ask Ali on her blog. You can also check out the link to the PWS website I included above (or just click here if you missed it there).

What causes are dear to your heart?

P.S. Don't forget to enter my super fantastic giveaway !!

Guest Blogger: three pugs & a baby on Life Lived Through Roller Coasters

I am taking a break. It's been a busy month and it's only just started. Please give a warm Drama Mama welcome to my guest blogger today. You first met her on Friday (well, some of you) and loved what she had to say. Today you are entertained and once again enthralled by Jenn at three pugs & a baby as she talks about..well, you'll see. Enjoy!

I am delighted to be able to join you again this Tuesday!

The Drama Mama asked me to whip up a little something on "life" and "roller coasters," and I'm going to be honest with you. It's been a tough topic. I got about 3/4 of the way through a post this morning and scrapped the whole thing. 

It's a bad writing habit of mine.

Let's see if this is better. 

I could give you the old party line, comparing the two, and telling you to roll with the ups and downs and enjoy the ride, but where's the fun in that?

Instead, I'll try a different direction. Where I'll talk about how convenience and efficiency doesn't always improve quality of life.

Complete with a vintage photo.

You can consider me a roller coaster junkie of the old-school variety. Give me a towering metal or wooden behemoth with straight plummets, loops and barrel rolls, and I am a happy, happy girl. 

One of my earliest memories is riding the now-closed Big Bad Wolf with my aunt in Busch Gardens. One hundred thirteen feet high, with a 99 foot drop and reaching speeds of 48-50 mph, it was the ultimate in speed and thrill at the time (mid-1980s). It was also one of the first suspended coasters, dangling from the track, instead of riding on it like a train car.

Scary stuff.


My mom and my aunt, both bona fide "ride haters" probably drew straws behind a souvenir tent to see who would accompany me. I'm guessing it came down to who was least likely to get carted off in an ambulance. My aunt "won."

I think she still harbors resentment. (And yes, that is an authentic picture of the top of my head from the 80s, probably taken with a disc camera).


But I loved every second of it, and couldn't wait til the next time I could get strapped in with an over-the-head harness (or not, if you happen to be on the Seaside boardwalk) for a thrill ride.

My current favorite is a tie between Everest at Animal Kingdom and The Hulk at Islands of Adventure. Probably leaning towards The Hulk because I am pee-in-my-pants terrified of animatronics and ride Everest with my eyes closed so I don't have to "encounter the Yeti."

However, it seems theme parks are pulling away from roller coasters, in favor of simulated rides. You know, the ones where you essentially watch a pretty realistic movie, while your seat bounces all around, but at the end of the day, you don't really go anywhere. 


I don't get it.


On the one hand, I'm claustrophobic, so being trapped in a soundproof room that invariably smells of gym socks is not super exciting to me. Secondly, I get incredible motion sickness (Ah, the irony. Don't worry, it's not lost on me.), especially when I'm feeling particularly contained. For me, the challenge of a simulated ride is to see how quickly I can sprint for the bathrooms when the seatbelts unlock. 

I give myself points for hurdling over small children.


But the worst part? It's all fake. 


Sure, you might get to take a space flight to Mars (Mission: SPACE), or embark on a Star Wars adventure (Star Tours), but none of it's real. It's nothing but a glorified bus ride, where you stow your belongings in the under-the-seat cargo net and watch a kind of dizzying movie.


But theme parks see things differently than me. It's clearly less of a liability to keep guests contained in an air conditioned theater with a few hydraulic effects, than to send them out on a narrow track to do battle with acceleration and gravity. They can also load more guests into a collection of theaters, which keeps turnover at a high rate.

But something gets lost in that translation. It's all smoke and mirrors, and no substance. It's the easy way out, the convenient thing to do. And that's not how I want to live my life.


I want to have to tuck my flip flops under my butt and leave my sunglasses with a friend on the ground so they don't go flying off my body, never to be seen again. 

I want my photo taken by a stealth camera, just as the coaster cars start slipping over the the peak of the tallest precipice, my expression one of nerves and excitement, mixed with a dash of fear and anticipation.


I want my stomach to lurch and my heart to pound for 90 thrilling seconds, and I want to spend the next few minutes breathless and weak-kneed, flying high on adrenaline.


Most days, I like to live simply and smoothly, but sometimes, it takes those risks and bumps in the roads (or 90 ft plummets, as the case may be) to really appreciate the little everyday things.

And I'm always going to be up for the ride.


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This post comes to you from 3 pugs & a baby. We'd love for you to pay us a visit anytime!

So, let's hear it. How do you like your roller coasters? Do you prefer the safety of the simulated rides or the thrill of the track, always leaving you breathless and anxious for more?

 

Not Your Average Steak

If you are ever passing through Fredericksburg, Va. make sure you are hungry. You absolutely must stop and dine at a little place called Sully's Seafood and Steak.

Jellybean was at a sleepover party so GC and I took Scooby out to eat. GC suggested this restaurant as he has heard glowing reviews. We enter the restaurant and the hostess greets us immediately. The decor is tasteful and inviting. The restaurant is not overly crowded so we are seated right away. The waitress comes immediately to help us settle in our seats, asks if we need a high chair, and takes our drink order. She dutifully returns with our drinks and chats with us for a minute or two then places our appetizer order immediately (we ordered onion straws. I did think that as an appetizer, the portion was a bit small). GC decided that Scooby's food should come first, so she ran off to put his order in as well (are you seeing a pattern here?). I am not a seafood eater, and I always get chicken. But, this is a seafood and steak house. I'm expecting some good steak. I order the 12 oz ribeye upon the suggestion of 3 staff members.

Have you ever heard that a good steak needs no sauce? Yep. Uhm hmmm. It was THAT good. It was so tender, it melted in my mouth. I felt like I was eating in slow motion just so I could savor each and every juicy, delicate bite.

The meals came with a choice of 2 sides. GC chose a vegetable blend and cole slaw. He made a fatal mistake. Scooby had himself a taste of the cole slaw, and that was all she wrote. Now, in order to understand, you need to know that Scooby loves to share food. He will share his as much as he will share yours. I mean it's almost like his motto. But this coleslaw? It was like trying to steal a binky from a baby. He grabbed the little bowl and held it close. He cradled it. He sang to it. He puckered his lips and tried to kiss it eat straight from the bowl so he wouldn't have to put it down. He was having NO part of the bowl being set on the table, nor was he sharing. It was, and I quote, "Mine!!". He demolished that coleslaw like he was a wrecking ball on a mission. Only once the bowl was empty did he finally give it up. I thought I was going to have to start tucking it in at night alongside his Tigger and blanket!

We finish eating, and receive the bill. It was a pleasant surprise that it was lower then we thought it would be, costing us about the same as it would had we gone someplace like Olive Garden or TGI Friday's instead. We leave with filled bellies, satisfied palates, and smiles on our faces. This will find itself at permanent residency on our Top 3 list. You really must treat yourself next time you are passing through.

Sometimes I think life is like that steak. I go on about my day... ordinary, simple, expected. But every once in awhile, when I least expect it, and need it the most, things change up a little bit. Things actually go the way they are supposed to, and you get to savor the deliciousness. You slow down, let the wind blow through your hair and lift your face to the breeze. Your heart sings. Your spirit soars, and you embrace the moment. When it is gone, you can still distinctly remember the taste on your tongue. And it is good.

Are you drooling yet? I haven't stopped drooling since Friday, when three pugs & a baby stopped in as the featured blog and left us with a little somethin-somethin for the weekend. She is returning tomorrow as a guest blogger. I have a feeling my mental palate will be as satisfied as my eating palate was on Saturday night. Stop in to see what she has to say.

Do you ever have "steak" days? Leave me a comment and tell me about them.

Coming Soon!!! Featured Blogs and Guest Blogging

The Drama Mama will be featuring blogs every Friday, starting this Friday. This means if I feature you, you get a chance to guest blog, AND since I participate in Friday Follow, it could mean a bunch of new followers for you!!! Yeah, that's right, and who DOESN'T want followers?

How do you get your blog featured?
1. Shoot me an email: thedramamamaanswers@gmail.com
2. Link me up to 2 or 3 (or more) of your favorite or most popular blog posts.
3. Give me topics of interest that you would like to write about as a guest blogger.
4. Tell me which blog post on the Scoop on Poop is your favorite.
5. Become a follower, if you'd like. It's not a requirement, but I will be featuring blogs of followers in appreciation of their support. And, I follow in return.

In the coming weeks, you can also look forward to guest blogging. Woot! Is it getting crazy around here or is it just me??

Party on, folks.