When Kids Ask Questions We Aren't Prepared to Answer

I was brushing darling daughter's hair this morning before going out to play tennis. Out of the blue, she asks me, "When was the first time you slept with Dad?"

I am rarely rendered speechless, but I have to tell you that, much like a drowning victim, all I could see for a split second was bright whiteness, and there was a buzzing in my ears. I thought I might faint.

As I blinked and stared at her dumbfounded, she asked, "Was it like a sleepover or something?" I told her that it was something like that, and it was too long ago to remember. Thank goodness she accepted that answer, and went to find a ponytail holder.

I've got to start preparing for things like this. Any words of wisdom out there for me? Similar experiences with kids?

I'm still lightheaded. I may have to go knit a few rows until I calm down.

Sorry Just Doesn't Mean What It Used To

All of this summer togetherness is starting to take its toll. My darling daughter said something snarky to her brother today. He replied by hitting her. When I got him under control, I told him to apologize to his sister for hitting her. He took a deep breath and through gritted teeth said, "I'm sorry I've got such a stupid sister!"

I knew I couldn't help smiling, so I faked a cough and sequestered myself in the bathroom until I got myself under control.

I'm at the end of my rope, but I've tied a knot, and I'm hanging on for dear life.

Say prayers for me!

Happy Blogiversary to Me!

My blog is one year old today. I must say that this last year went by really, really quickly.

I'd like to thank all of my readers for checking in on me here and reading my ramblings. Hopefully, I've made you laugh or cry or made you think at some point this last year.

I'd especially like to thank my loyal readers: Our Lady Celia of the Comments - my number one supporter. I probably kept up with the blog this long because of you. Mother Heller - I'm glad you can share in the antics of your grandchildren and have a good laugh. Mrs. DPM - my very best friend always. What would I do without you? Kayla Joy - Thanks for always telling me how much you enjoy the blog. You will always be my extreme cheerleader. And my friends Karen and Gayle who email me often to check up on me. I'm glad you keep in touch. And to my husband and kids - my greatest inspirations - thank you for all the great material to blog about.

I frequently get questions about the blog. The most popular are: 1) How come you never show any of your knitting projects when the blog is titled "Knitting and Mayhem"? Answer: My last couple of knitting projects did not turn out very well, and I don't really get much time to knit lately. Since I started reading the "Twilight" series of books by Stephenie Meyer, I don't knit much at all.

2) Do you make up some of your stories? Answer: No. My life is really that strange. I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried. Yes, I really do swear at Japanese beetles, fall off of chairs in the doctor's office, start fires in my bathroom, throw defective hair styling equipment into snowbanks, and use powdered sugar instead of flour in banana bread recipes. That's just me. I'm cool like that. And I hope someday that will all be mentioned in my obituary. My life is like one long Carol Burnett show full of ridiculously funny skits.

3) Where do you get the ideas for some of the blog posts/how do you go about writing the posts? Ideas pop into my head all the time. I can wake up in the middle of the night with an idea, or I can mull something over for a couple of days. I do keep a notebook with ideas for future blog posts. Most of the time, my thoughts just come barreling through as I'm typing.

Now, I have a request of all of my readers. I'd love to hear which of my blog posts is your favorite. Please email or comment.

Thanks again my loyal readers. This blog has helped me so much. Being a stay-at-home Mom can be very isolating - especially for someone as social as myself. I originally created this blog as a way to get through the long days. I've discovered so much about myself along the way - mostly I learned that I am in charge of my own happiness. Just like Dorothy in the "Wizard of Oz" - I learned that I had the power all along. I can't wait to see where this next year takes me. You can read about it here.

"So often times it happens that we live our lives in chains. And we never even know we have the key." Lyrics from "Already Gone" by the Eagles

But Who's Counting????

Fifty days until school starts. Only 50 more days of crabby kids, crabby Mom, arguments, kids hitting each other with tennis racquets and damaging my shrubs with tennis balls, throwing clumps of dirt into their swimming pool, catching frogs and scaring their Mom with them, leaving dirty socks and Capri Sun packets around the house, and gluing sequins on the cat.

I even told my son that I would send him away to live in a camp if he kept being crabby. I threatened to take away every one of my daughter's possessions if she lost one more thing. My life has reached a whole new level of suck.

There isn't enough alcohol on the planet to get me through the next 50 days.

Another Day, Another Trip to Urgent Care

My son cut his knee open yesterday and had to have stitches. Of course, I was right behind him when it happened. Every time that child has gotten seriously hurt, I've been right there by him.

Around 4:30 yesterday afternoon, he got out of our pool, ran up onto our deck, through our carpeted dining room and into the kitchen where he slid on the floor and into the corner of a wall by our refrigerator. I knew the minute I heard him screaming that it wasn't good.

I drove him to our clinic's urgent care because it wasn't bleeding a whole lot. They cleaned it and numbed it which took about 45 minutes. His sister and I sat there with him in the tiny waiting room. She was in her wet swimsuit with a cover-up on, and she was freezing. To pass the time, I got a pen out of my purse and let them play tic-tac-toe on the paper cover of the table in the waiting room. My daughter was on the rolling stool, and she bumped the table causing the roll of paper to come loose from under the table. I tried to replace it, and I asked her to get off of the rolling stool so that I could sit on it and try to replace the paper roll. Leaning over the table was making me dizzy.

As I tried to sit on the stool, it shot out from under me, and I fell on the floor and the roll of paper went everywhere. Just then, the nurse came in the room, and the look on her face was priceless. I started babbling about what I was doing. She seemed completely understanding. Obviously, her years of working in pediatrics with small children gave her the skills she needed to deal with me.

After an excruciating ten minutes of the doctor stitching up the cut, we were allowed to go home. Now, the fun begins. I have a very active six-year-old who can't bike or run for at least two weeks.

Please send good thoughts my way . . .