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Happy Halloween

EbonyMommy ©2006

Brother for Sale

EbonyMommy ©2006

In 1 short hour my little whirlwind of an EBaby managed to do the following:

  • Climb up the back of the couch- laughing and then falling on his head
  • Spit an entire glass of water out onto my feet
  • Steal 3 rescue heros and their accompanying vehicles from his brother- choosing ONLY what EBoy was playing with rather than the 1000 other rescue heros and vehicles we have laying around
  • Dump his jello onto the kitchen floor and gently use his hands to buff the tiles
  • Wash hands and get his hair full of soap and water
  • Get onto EDad’s desk, pull down a brand new spindle and use the cds as frisbees
  • Climb up the back of the couch AGAIN and fall off the back AGAIN

I’ve been fairly exhausted here lately with the season change and all of the household changes/uncertainties we have going on so I’m at a loss when it comes to how to deal with my baby Taz. I’ve tried talking gently but firmly (he laughs and finds my repimands hilarious), redirecting him (yells and shakes his fist in my face until he’s able to return to whatever terror he was invoking) and time outs (much gnashing of teeth but again not deterred from going right back to the same trouble).

Looking at him now has been made even more difficult by the fact that he was the sweetest most gentle baby I’ve ever seen. He was the sort of infant that made my ovaries ache - wanting 10 more just like him.

But after his reign of terror and destruction his brother ran in to tell me something with the brightest smile he’d had all day. “Mommy! My brother SHARED with me! He’s my friend!”

That one moment of brotherly love shining from EBoy’s face made the day of chasing Destructobaby all worth it. I know this is a phase that someday he’ll outgrow (if your child has not outgrown this, don’t tell me- I have to have my dreams just to make it through!)

Now excuse me while I try to figure out where EBaby hid my shoes so that we can go to the store. I have to buy two new toothbrushes to replace the ones the boys used to scrub the toilet.

When a Wrong Makes a Right

There’s something you should know about me that most people never get to find out. I have a major phobia. No not heights or bugs (ok, maybe one bug does bother me) but one of conflict. Being faced with personal conflict, particularly in relationships with those that I care about results in an instant onslaught of crippling fear. Panic and anxiety set in as I mentally run worse case scenarios through my head (the person will never talk to me again or care about me) and try to figure out a way to explain away or smooth things over as quickly as possible.

Trying to pinpoint this severe fear of conflict helped me to also see that I truely hate to be seen as being wrong. Not about trivia or what happened when (I can admit to wrong in this situations with no problem) but I care so deeply and intesely for my family and friends I can’t stand the idea that they would think I would purposely hurt or damage them. Being wrong is hard enough but to be thought of being seen as wrong even though you did nothing wrong is absolutely maddening.

Of course all of this points right back to my childhood. In all of my years growing up in my parents’ home I can not think of one single solitary time where either of my parents ever apologized to me. Whether I did the wrong I was accused of or was found to have not done anything. This led me to a future of avoiding conflict of all sorts because my only basis for conflict is the memory of the difficult (and usually very painful) consequences. Being right wasn’t just a matter of self esteem it became the liferaft I desperately clung to in order to survive in an emotionally neglectful and abusive existence.

Today I had to face a conflict in a way I never thought possible. I apologized and admitted wrong in a situation where in reality I’d done nothing of the sort. I apologized to the spouse of someone I care deeply about, primarily to try to repair our relationship. The apologizing has not been nearly as difficult as worrying that the person I apologized on behalf of thinks badly of me.

Talking to my Dad about this lead me to quite a bit of wisdom. He shared with me that as a Pastor he spends a lot of time admitting wrongs to people who so desperately need to be right- encouraging them in love is more important than his own need to be right. He shared this little exercise with me, I think I need to print this out as a daily reminder of the love I need to share. I Corinthians 13:1-13 talks about love and applying verses 4-8 to yourself is how you can truely look at just how much it takes to truely love. Take the love and put your own name in there- loving is a lot to live up to, but the people in my life that I care about are truely worth the struggle:

Yolanda is patient,
Yolanda is kind.
Yolanda does not envy,
Yolanda does not boast,
Yolanda is not proud.

Yolanda is not rude,
Yolanda is not self-seeking,
Yolanda is not easily angered,
Yolanda keeps no record of wrongs.

Yolanda does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
Yolanda always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails.


No, I don’t think I honestly look anything like her but this truely made my day! :)

What celebrities do you look like?


Pull Play Phone
When buying loud, obnoxious lightup toys for your toddler remember that the toy will go completely untouched until the moment you are sitting down trying to watch a movie. As soon as you get into the movie and are really enjoying it expect to be sereneded by your electronic drum machine bongo playing genius of a toddler. Now, if I just would have reminded myself of this two weeks ago when I bought this psychedelic talking telephone.

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