Planned Parenthood Needs Support

An abortion debate is again brewing in this country. Here in Nebraska, a bill has been introduced that would require Planned Parenthood to turn the ultrasound screen toward a woman so she could see the fetus before an abortion. Some say that a woman doesn't have to look at the screen - that's her choice. I think the whole concept of the law is insulting. When a women has an abortion she more than likely already feels guilt and remorse along with relief, but rubbing it in her face that there is something growing in her is just insulting.

Nebraska is also debating whether or not to give tax dollars to Planned Parenthood. Most say no because they preform abortions. Let's just forget about all the other valuable services they provide. Women in this country need more support not more shame. We cannot force men to be fathers. Hell, we can't really even force them to pay child support, but so many want to force women to be mothers. I don;t care what your religion tells you - at this point the issue is, for me, purely based on inequality.

I wrote a letter to the editor regarding these issues, and it was published in today's Lincoln Journal Star. I can't get the link to work, but if you'd like to see it I can e-mail it to you.

Cat Heaven

If there is a cat heaven, Tiger found it this morning playing in the huge stack of sacks from our trip to Super Target this morning. After I picked up the sacks, he had to settle for laying on the new box of diapers.

Sadly, while we were at the store this morning, Evelyn lost her little peeing Strawberry Shortcake doll. I never let her take anything into the store, but she hid it in her pocket. She did a great job carrying it through the store until shortly after we had to make a detour to change Soren's stinky diaper. She realized dolly was missing as we stood in the ice cream aisle. Immediately, panic and tears ensued. We finished our shopping and looked around for dolly to no avail. I tried to tell her that another little girl would find the doll and care for it, or maybe someone would turn it in at the service desk. I left my phone number just in case. On the way home she sat somberly in her car seat and cried, wishing that her dolly would "return" and worrying that dolly wouldn't like the new little girl taking care of her. It was enough to break my heart. Her sensible side kicked in, though, and she told me, "I'm never taking anything into the store again." At nap time she had to put four toys in bed with her so they wouldn't get lost.

Today started with me waking up at 5:30 am realizing that we had no power. I handled it well, checking the fuse box then calling the gas company. Of course, it was the electricity company I needed, but it really was just a hazy-minded mistake. You see, when we lived in Missouri Aquila was our electricity provider. Here they are the gas provider. I just had a momentary brain fart. The power was back on by 6:30 am.

How I Feel Today

The preceding photo is the quintessential "picture is worth a thousand words" photo. Sometimes it's just one of those days, you know? Every day this week Brody has said when I get him up in the morning, "I am NOT going to school." He also is "NOT" going to get a haircut, take a bath, "eat that", or play with Evelyn.

Soren didn't have a nap today, but is in decent spirits. She's talking with Dade, nursing her doll, and waiting patiently for him to make her a paper fan. I know it's the calm before the storm.

Evelyn is playing with Brody. He's playing wrestler, and she is, too, but her wrestler is apparently having a baby. Brody does not approve.

Dade is trying to do his homework, but it's hard when lil' sister is bugging you. He played outside in the snow for a long time. He said he made two toboggans full of snowballs, and then said, "I wish I had someone to have a snowball fight with." Brody will just cry. Evie will tattle. Soren will fall down. Mom will kick his ass. He just can't win.

Drum Roll Please. . . I Had a Grown Up Conversation Today!

My old friend from high school, Cody, came for a visit today. He's going to grad school in Lincoln twice a week, so he popped in for a visit between classes. We started chatting on Facebook the other night. I've really come to rely on Facebook for some adult interaction. I've gotten to chat with Cody and his wife Kim who both went to high school with Colby and me.

I went on a trip to the park with some other moms last Thursday when the weather was nice, but I had to chase Soren while they all got to chit chat. This is the first year that I haven't worked outside of the home at all. I've always worked, even just 8 hours a week, but it was something. I don't exactly know where I'd work even if I could.

I guess my point is, well, I don't really have one. I'm just excited to talk to a grown up!

Peanut, Peanut Butter. . . In Syrup

My husband loves peanut butter on his waffles. It's something his family does. I don't really like peanut butter, but my kids have followed in their father's footsteps and will put it on just about any bread product. To blend their love of peanut butter and syrup on their pancakes and waffles, I mix up a peanut butter syrup. It's pretty easy: just put 1/2 cup of your favorite imitation maple syrup in a small saucepan with 1/4 cup of creamy natural peanut butter. Heat on low, and stir often until the syrup is warm and gooey. The kids love it. They also like to add a little whipped cream. Who doesn't like whiped cream?

Karma

Last night as I was tucking Brody into bed, he said in a sweet voice, "I have to tell you something. When we were at the park today, I fell on something and hit my nuts and some big kids laughed at me." I said, "Well, honey, that's what big kids do." Colby pointed out later that's what anyone would do. I guess he's right. Anyone who has ever watched an episode of America's Funniest Home Videos knows that a crotch shot is always good for a laugh. Brody is like me in that he generally takes pleasure in other people's misfortune. I always laugh when people fall down or when Colby takes a shoe to the junk during a jostle with the kids. That's my nature. I'm hoping that Brody realizes that if you laugh at others' misfortunes, they're probably going to laugh at yours. That's karma.

Going Bananas or I Wanna be Sedated

This morning as Soren was peeling her banana at breakfast, I took notice of two symbols that define my week so far.

One: She's wearing a Ramones shirt today. They sing a song that says, "I wanna be sedated." Yeah. How I wish I could fall in to a Chardonnay-induced euphoria.

Two: She's peeling a banana. I feel like I'm going bananas. My kids are monkeys and they're eating me for dinner. Evelyn has become the biggest tattle tale ever. If someone looks at the dog sideways she tattles. Brody is a constant complainer. Dade has his head in the clouds, as usual. Soren? I didn't know a 15-month-old could whine all day about nothing. . . and I have 4 kids!

Colby doesn't come home until the 30th. I'm not religious, but let's all pray for my survival.

Hooray, Hooray! It's Inauguration Day!

I feel like all I want to do today is sing "America the Beautiful" over and over again. It's a great day to be an American, isn't it? My kids know how excited I was about Barack Obama's election, and they have shown a real maturity about politics. Some campaign season quotes:

Brody: "John McCain is and idiot."

While watching the inauguration this morning: "Where's John McCain?"

Evelyn: "I love the Rock Obama."

Dade: "Today is a special day for Americans, especially African Americans." He said that , really.

We all sat in the living room and watched the inauguration this morning. The kids enjoyed Aretha Franklin's hat, and Brody said, "She's a terrible singer." Nice. I asked them to be as quiet as possible while I listened to Obama's speech, and the best I got was two crying fits, three pleas for an apple, at least 4 fights, and two requests for a piece of gum.

Later, in honor of the departing Prez Bush, we went outside and picked up dog poop.

Who's That Girl?

Last summer, my Dad's sister Patty sent me some really old photos. This photo is of me, and I look to be around 3 years old or so. I think Patty found a bunch of undevloped rolls of film and wanted to see what was on them. What a surprise. . . it was the cutest kid ever! :)

The photo was taken at my Grandma's house in front of her water fountain. As kids, my cousins and I would love to hang out by the fountain. Grandma would put goldfish and turtles in there. It's really one of the more memorable things from my childhood. My grandparents still live in the same house, but I don't think the fountain sees much action anymore.

By my legs you'll notice a little white dog. That's our poodle, Cookie. She lived well into my teenage years. Grandma used to bring her bones from the steakhouse after work.

It's amazing how much one photo can stir up. I'm sad that so much of my life has passed by, but I look forward to growing old and seeing what life has in store. Some day my own daughters will look at photos of themselves with their little white dogs. How sweet. . .

The Cat Food Caper

So, I thought our kitten Tiger was a pig. It always seemed like his food bowl was empty. When we brought Tiger home, he was 2 lbs and no match for our dogs. I put his food dish up on top of our record player speakers in the den so that he could eat safely out of reach of the dogs. The dogs' food and water was also in the den, which meant that Soren was constantly playing in the water and eating the food.

In order to keep Soren from eating dog food, I moved the dogs' food and water downstairs. The cat's food remained on top of the stereo. For days now the dogs have been standing in the den waiting for their food to magically appear, even though I've shown them repeatedly that their food is now downstairs.

So, everyday we feed the cat. Everyday the bowl is emptied - usually twice. I finally figured out why. As I walked by the den this evening, I see Jefferson standing on top of the stereo speakers eating the cat's food. I can't decide if Jefferson is a total idiot or a genius. I'm gonna go with idiot.

The Band

Dade had a band concert last night. After hearing him practice since October, I was skeptical as to what kind of a "concert" this would be. Dean, Connie, Carrie, and her latest beau came down to cheer Dade on, which was about the nicest thing they could've done. We braved the frigid air and took our seats in the front row ready to hear some "music".

I was pleasantly surprised that all the squawking and blurping I'd been listening to the past few months actually sounded pretty good when 20 other kids did it together. Dade was so concerned about how he was dressed and was particularly careful to make sure his hair was perfect. He sat in the row with the other trumpet players; one kid dressed nicely in a two-sizes-too-big button up shirt and track pants. I wondered if the shirt was his dad's. Then I wondered if he was taking fashion advice from Brody, notorious for choosing his blue plaid button up shirt with maroon track pants.

I thought back to my band days, how nervous and excited I was at concerts. Dade looked great playing his trumpet, and he sounded great, too. Brody and Soren hung out with Aunt Carrie. I think Brody was playing a game on Carrie's ipod because I kept hearing him say stuff like, "How could I die just from that?" Soren ended up with a high fever before the concert was over, and she's still got it today.

After the concert we all came back to our house for cookies and milk. Leave it to Grandpa and Grandma to bring junk food along with them.

Happy Birthday Brody!

Brody turned six years old on Wednesday, the day Colby flew back to Ohio. We always let the kids pick the place to go out to eat for their birthdays, and Brody pickedRunza. Colby tried to talk him into something else, but talking Brody into anything he doesn't want to do is like trying to convince the sun not to shine. So, off to Runza we went with Brody's friend Kobe in tow. The kids had fun playing in the indoor play land, and Brody got a book and some wrestling guys. He's having a big party at the end of the month, if he behaves long enough to earn it.

It's hard to believe that my big-headed bundle of joy is six. He's one of the most interesting people I know, honestly. He's stubborn, creative, loving, argumentative, smart-mouthed, sweet, and a true boy. He looks like his dad and acts like his mom. I'm glad he's my son, and I hope that I can still say that 20 years from now. :)

Family Game Night

In a previous blog I spilled the beans about my inability to play board games because of my poor sportsmanship. Colby loves to play board games with the kids, even though someone usually ends up in tears. He played a few rounds of Candyland with Evelyn and Brody. Colby never wins at Candyland, and this weekend was no exception. He then played a game of Sorry! with Dade. While he was off changing a dirty diaper, the game was forgotten and mayhem ensued. As is common around here, the boys decided to play Wrestlemania at the table. The game eventually ended, and no one cried. I'm not sure who won, though.

Then, as a special request for his upcoming birthday, Brody wanted Shirley Temples for snack time. Supersaver had to open the liquor section of the market that morning (Sunday) just to get the grenadine so we could make them. I dusted off the whiskey glasses and filled them with maraschino cherries, soda, and grenadine. The kids were pleased.

Chicken Pot Pie

Colby just told me that my loving firstborn son said this about the upcoming, homemade meal: "I hope the chicken potpie doesn't turn out so we can go out to eat." This is what I get for preparing a time consuming meal, ordered especially by my husband, and prepared with my own two hands.

So, we ate the potpie. Brody cried the whole time. He said that if potpie was his wife he'd kill it. Nice. We've started a collection for bail money. Everyone else ate potpie and even liked it.

Sledding and Pizza, Oh What a Day!!

We had a bit of soft, lovely snow last night. It was beautiful. What isn't so great is that, with Colby gone, all the scooping is in my hands (along with everything else, but I digress. . .).

I got Evelyn and Soren all ready to go out in the snow, the boys got all dressed up, and we headed out to scoop the driveway. Dade took the initiative to get the toboggan out, and soon all the kids were sledding down the little hill in our side yard. It's just the right size for some safe, yet fun, sledding. Sadly, I have no photos because I was scooping snow and putting down salt. Soren looked like a happy little marshmallow as she Frankenstein-walked around in her snowsuit.

We have a busy day today. Colby comes home! Carrie and Mandi are coming foe a visit and taking the kids to Cici's Pizza. For those of you who haven't been to Cici's, it's a barf fest, all you can eat, mediocre pizza joint. The kids think it's heaven, especially Dade who claims that he once ate 13 pieces of pizza there. Then, of course, there was a discussion as to how many pieces of pizza each wrestler could eat, but again I digress. . .

Head Trauma

Let me preface this blog post with this: Please don't call child services. Now that that is out of the way, we'll continue.

Soren is having a bad week as far as gravity goes. While we were at Target on Monday, she took a header onto the concrete floor. Big goose egg, big bruise.

Today, she slid down the steps. She also somehow "accidentally" fell into the coffee table while Brody and Evelyn were "pulling on her." Honesty is the best policy around here. Their little pulling incident lead to a head bump in the exact same place Monday's bump occurred. The results are pictured above.

I remember Dade walking around with a permanent goose egg from about 10 months old to about 18 months. Maybe this is just Soren's "my head is large and gravity is wicked" phase. One thing is for sure, she's a risk taker. She climbs up everything. She runs as fast as she can with no concern that her head may get ahead of her and make her fall. She isn't afraid of heights, even though she has fallen off of pretty much every surface in the house (tables, toy shopping cart, bed, chairs, toilet, etc.). I've never had a child so intent on getting a broken head. You could blame me for some of this, I guess. I could keep a closer eye on her. I do after all know that she is brazen and could take better precautionary measures. In my defense, she really is a handful!

I hope that her risky behavior goes a more constructive direction, like a fearless drive to succeed or something. In the meantime, where's the nurf and bubble wrap????? By the way, as I was typing this, Soren drew on her face with a pen. Call the academy because we've got a parent of the year nominee here!

Reading Rainbow

Since we got cable a few months ago, my book reading has gone bye-bye. Damn Law and Order reruns and Food Network. However, I've made a commitment to read more. Since I am really a sociologist and social scientist at heart, I love to read non fiction.

I'm in the middle of a startling book called So Sexy, So Soon about how television and popular culture are sexualizing our children (especially girls). So far, I've found out that the problem isn't really that kids are learning about sex (that's natural), but that consumerism has changed what messages are sent to kids about sex. Narrow gender stereotypes are inundating our children, thanks greatly to corporate America. It's much more complicated and fascinating than that, so I recommend that you check out the book from your local library.

Next on my list? Another book about ADHD and a collection of essays. The last book I read was Middlesex. I saw the author on t.v. Ironic. Anyway, it's a great fiction read. Don't avoid it just because it's on Oprah's book club list.

I took the girls to storytime this morning at the library. They had a great time. It's the only time Soren ever ventures away from my side (okay, she runs away in Target). Some kid had on shoes with squeakers in them that squeaked with every step he took. Not a great choice for the library, mom.

The Morning Rush

School day mornings can be a bit hectic around here. This morning, however, went off without a hitch. After the kids had eaten, brushed teeth, and finished their morning chores, they had about 20 minutes to play. Dade got out his How to Draw Fish book and penciled some lovely fish. Brody got out his Seek and Find book and started, well, seeking and finding with some help from Evie.

When it was time to leave for school, we were all ready except Brody. He just had, "one more thing to find, Mom!" Fine, but make it quick. Evelyn said, "You'd better hurry up, Brody, because I can't babysit you." Her reason?? Not the fact that she's only three. Not the fact that it would be a crime for me to leave them home alone together. No, her reason was simple: "I can't babysit you because I can't wipe people's butts." True, Brody cannot yet be trusted to wipe himself, but I found it so interesting and grown up that this was the reason she couldn't babysit. It makes perfect sense.

Later, as we loaded into the minivan, Brody says to Soren, "Soren, if you were a booger, I'd pick you." Feel the love.

Worst Christmas Gift

It has been a slow news day here at the Vesely house. So, I would like to take this opportunity to give out the award for the worst Christmas present given to me this year. I'm sorry to say this, but my lovely husband Colby is the winner of this year's award. He so thoughtfully gave me two bear figurines: one is a devil with a boner, and the other is a scantily clad school girl/dominatrix. He had me open these in front of his family on Christmas Eve. Thanks, honey. I have a great sense of humor, don't get me wrong. There isn't too much, no matter how crass or inappropriate, that I won't laugh at. People falling down - love it. Guys getting kicked in the crotch - classic. Cat burning his whiskers on a lit candle - hilarious. Sexually oriented bear figurines unwrapped in front of Grandpa and Grandma - not funny.

He also got me some perfume that I like and a handmade soup bowl. But, alas, this Christmas may be the one remembered for the inappropriate bear figurines. Keep that in mind for next year, Dear.

I'd be interested to hear anyone else's worst Christmas gift stories. Birthday presents, too. My Dad and Step mom gave me an alarm clock for my 18th birthday. Just what I always wanted.

They say it's the thought that counts with gift giving. Sometimes, it's the lack of thought that really makes a gift memorable.

Number Two

Last night during supper, I noticed that Soren had a stinky diaper. After changing a rather messy diaper, I decided that a bath was necessary. Both girls stripped down and waited for the tub to fill. I carried their clothes to the clothes basket, and upon my return noticed that Soren had left a steaming pile of poo on the bathroom floor. Great. My dogs were nice enough to clean it up for me (ewww), and I wiped the floor with antibacterial cloths. In the meantime, I decided that maybe Soren should sit on the potty while I cleaned, just in case more fun was in the works, so to speak. Sure enough, she pooped in the potty. After a few good jobs and way to go girls, bathtime ensued.


Out of the bathtub, Soren headed directly for the potty to resume her place on the throne. She wouldn't get off the toilet. She sat on the pot for about 20 minutes. I guess I found her a new form of entertainment. I'm sure she'll love that I took these photos when she's older.

By the way, the dark spot on her stomach is a tattoo; and, yes, she is enjoying her girl parts. I used to think this was strictly a little boy thing, but after having two girls, I realize they all do it. Boys just do it whether they're naked or not. And they don't care who sees. And they don't grow out of it.

The Tradition Continues

Colby's parents stopped by today to bring us some of the items we couldn't fit in our van at Christmas. Upon their arrival, Dade asked if Dean would teach him to play rummy. I couldn't believe it, considering that Dade hates to lose at anything. So, Connie and Dade were a team against Dean in Dade's very first game of rummy. Dean kicked their butts, but there was no yelling, teeth clenching, or crying involved. They also played Battleship.

You see, cards are serious business on Colby's side of the family. His grandparents keep a running total throughout the year of how many games of cards each has won or lost, usually a total of more than 300, I think. Card games are a part of every family gathering. It's a great tradition, one that can be easily passed down to any willing participants.

I don't play cards. I really don't like to play board games, either. I hate to lose; I really, really hate to lose. I am, in fact, a sore loser. I throw things. I whine. I don't cry like Dade does, but that's only because I'm too embarrassed. The only game I ever like to play: Trivial Pursuit. The only time anyone can beat me is if I am suffering from pregnancy-induced mush brain.

I try to tell the kids that losing is just part of playing a game, when in fact losing is the reason I don't play the game. Another great Nichole parenting skills lesson.

Happy New Year!

My husband spent New Year's Eve at the movie theatre in Findlay - alone. Dade, Brody, and Evelyn were in Seward eating junk food and missing out on sleep. Soren and I were in Lincoln, but we had visitors. My friends Sara and Travis came to visit with their kids. They took us out for supper (Cracker Barrel), we watched a movie (The Happening), and we made it till midnight to hear fireworks blasting from downtown. It was really nice of them to keep me company! Soren and Reese were like two little peas in a pod. I only wish they were closer so our girls could be together more often. Travis was the odd man out. He spent the evening listening to Sara and I girl talk and such. I'm sure it wasn't his idea of a great New Year's Eve, but husbands must sacrifice for their wives. I'm pretty sure that's in the vows.

Today, we went to Seward to watch football and hang out. The dogs escaped the yard again, but were returned to us by a former co-worker of Colby's who lives about a block away. The neighbors were shooting off firecrackers, scaring the crap out of the dogs, and thus inspiring their little escape. They still refuse to go outside.

This year is again beginning with Colby far from home, but at least no one is pregnant. :) I have no witty quips or funny stories for today - just wishes for a happy and healthy year for all who are reading this.