Just breathe, Melody. Just. Breathe.

That moment at 1-ish in the morning, you can’t sleep and are folding and hanging the mounds of Jasper laundry that have been sitting there for weeks it seems.
That moment at 1-ish in the morning, you’re in mid fold when you notice that this pair of pajamas has gotten too small and you have been meaning to donate them. You throw them into the donate box that you have been working on.
That moment at 1-ish in the morning, the next thing you pick up is his favorite blanket; his “Wubbie”. A blanket that is so soft that even the six month old little man in the Target cart wouldn’t let it go. You don’t have the $17 for a baby blanket but, he’s rubbing it on his face and smiling. You put back the pack of new razor cartridges from the cart and it’s his.
That moment at 1-ish in the morning, you grab a hanger and a tshirt. This shirt is a 2T. You tell yourself to breathe. You exhale slowly and put the shirt on the hanger.
That moment at 1-ish in the morning, when you realize that the newborn, 3 mo, 6-9mo, 12 mo clothes that he wore for so long actually didn’t fit for that long at all. It was so easy to part with those items. But, now?
That moment at 1-ish in the morning, you look around at the clothes that say, “2t”, “3t” and it hits you. He’ll never be in a size that ends in “months” again. And those final pieces of 18 and 24 month clothes are wound around your hands and you find yourself bringing them to your face just to remember what the smell is like.
That moment, that you drop to the ground and cry. That eight pound, almost Christmas baby boy will never remember these clothes. But, you will.
And at that very moment, at 1:37am, those 8 feet to his room and the mere seconds it would take to get to him and to grab him and hold onto him for dear life seems like 8 miles and you can’t breathe.
And that moment, you just crawl into bed.  You catch yourself saying out loud, “Just breathe, Melody.  Just.  Breathe.”Image


A Tale of Two Tampons…

Let me start this off by saying… I truly hope that I didn’t forever scar my two oldest spawn for any future mates that they may have.  But, if I did and their future mates should choose to procreate and wind up with nosey ass boys…This too shall be your life.

A couple of weeks ago I was in the downstairs bathroom.  I don’t even remember what I was doing but, it probably involved bleach and Lysol wipes.  Somehow, I ended up reaching for something in the under the sink cabinet.  What I found was, for the second time, tampons that had been unwrapped, removed from the applicator and were WET.  Then, it hit me. A month or so before, we found that all the towels under there were damp and worried that there may be a slow leak in the pipes somewhere.  We now had our answer.

The first time that the men-children decided to see what tampons did, I don’t really even know what made them think to put them in water.  But, whatever.  I gave them the stern, “These are MINE.  They cost money.” and after being asked what they were, the standard, “We’ll discuss that when you are older.”   It was obviously stated at some point that they were not to touch them again.

Fast forward…  Now, I’m just pissed.  If you are not a female that uses or have used tampons, these fucking things are NOT cheap.  They are not cheap because Tampax and Playtex know that we will pay whatever the price to avoid those unnecessary um, accidents.  But, I digress.  I grab them both, make them sit on the floor in the entryway from the living room to the kitchen.  I take the unwrapped and wet tampons and throw one in each of their laps.  (The looks on their faces was priceless at this point but, *giggles* it gets better.)

“Do you know what these are for?”


“Who did this?”

“Me.” (Evans)

“Okay.  But, I’ll just cover this for both of you so I hopefully don’t have to repeat it again.”

I then began to explain, in GREAT and COLORFUL details about WHAT tampons are, WHAT they are used for, the DEFINITION of menstruation and to make sure that my one last point was made… HOW they were inserted and into WHERE.  

I could go on but, their faces said it all and I thought that they were going to vomit as they both sat there.  With tampons in their laps.  Arms extended as to avoid touching them at any cost.  And, with my friend Mark standing right there as I was taking the point home.