Rocco is watching Diego.

No. one. move.

Don't even breathe.

It could ruin this moment. This moment I have prayed would happen.

Most mothers pray their kids would enjoy activities other than t.v. watching; I, on the other hand, pray that God would see fit to bless me with a son who enjoys wasting brain cells on television. So far all that praying has been in vain. He would rather do things like play, color and swing.

What kind of kid is that?? Not the fun kind, I'll tell ya.

But here he is. Sitting beside me on the couch. Staring blankly at Diego. God bless that little Hispanic wrangler!!

So I dare not breathe.

Or move.

For fear he will want me to do something with him.

Like art. I hate art.

So just sit verrrryy st.....Oh crud. He's up.

It really was a great day; the weather could not have been better and I married a man who loves me enough to get in the pool with 20 kiddos so that I don't have to. That, is love.

With the exception of a couple of little girlies from Remi's Sunday School class, no girls from her school made it. However, every single boy from her church, her school and her family did.

Lest any other female hog the attendtion, she loooooooved that.

Of course I suppose a bunch of stinky boys are what you get when your delicate flower decides she wants an Alligator themed party. Fresh with alligator floats, alligator cake, fried alligator (aka chik-fil-a), an alligator swimsuit...

And spends the afternoon swimming with a tree frog stuck to her arm.

Wanna know why I love her? Because that was Saturday.

On Sunday she carried her pink Bible with rhinstones on it to church, wore her sparkly shoes and carried her wand. And a whole lotta attitude.

Totally LOST.

For the last couple of seasons I have abstained from posting anything about LOST because, well, in all honesty, I didn't understand a blessed thing that was going on. And sometimes I think, "why would I leave a post on parenting know-how when every day around 3:30 you can find me under my bed laying perfectly still so they can't find me" just like I think, "why would I leave a post on LOST when all I can understand is that Hurley still has not lost weight and I love how Jack parts his hair to the side" - see? Pointless.

But I have always been a fan. I've just been a fan that doesn't really understand. Oh, sure, I've had my theories just like the next on-line, chat room, message board geek, but I've been too embarrassed to share them.

Until last night.

Last night I went to a LOST series finale party. And ya know what I realized? Lots more people are as clueless as me. They just exhibit their cluelessness in really cool ways, like wearing t-shirts or saying things like "wellllll, I read...."

But we're all the same.

So last night when the show actually started you could have heard a pin drop. There we sat, a living room filled with LOST geeks. There was the couple who were only watching the show because they had "invested so much stinkin' time into it that we either have to watch it or throw something through our television set." There was the couple who was there because they've "never missed one episode and have the whole thing figured out" and there was even the one guy with NOT PENNY'S BOAT tattooed on his hand.

And as we sat there and watched the characters that we've come to know and love these past several seasons re-connect with one another in a parallel universe akin to purgatory but with bigger statues and stained glass windows (I don't know - don't ask me!) I was kind of sad. I will miss them. Yet they all seemed so happy to finally be together. Except for poor Ben who still remained outside; always on the outside looking in.

But I couldn't help but wonder what about the island?
What about who took over after Hurley?
How did Kate die?
What happened to the plane that took off?
And where was Lupidis and Miles?
And was Daniel Faraday really dead if he was playing the piano?

There is still sooooooooooooo much I don't understand and I wouldn't mind a little help from a bunch of people who are smarter than me. But I don't know where to find those people, so you all will do. (Oh, I'm kidding. Hush.) So leave me your thoughts on last nights episode and maybe - maybe - I can begin to make sense of it.

But I wouldn't bet on it. Besides, I'm waiting for tonights first episode of The Bachelorette. Now that I can keep up with.

Hush, Attorney General, not. a. word.

Oh the Money We Would Save.

I wish you understood money, Remi Hope. Then you would understand how much more of it we would have if we didn't have you.

We would be able to eat out alllllll the time. Wherever we wanted. Whenever we wanted. And we would eat things like prime rib and filet mignon and not things like chicken nuggets and sweet potato fries.

Of course we would sit in boring restaurants with stuffy people who would never color on their menus or split sushi with their momma. And the room would be dimly lit and have soft music playing, instead of being neon and loud with a teenager dressed up as a Mouse running around. And you wouldn't be there laughing hysterically or going to the bathroom every twelve minutes. So what fun would that be?

We would also go on vacations. Long, relaxing vacations. Where there were palm trees and hammocks and a young man named Armand who would continue to refill our drinks without us having to ask.

Of course we would never experience a car ride with a three year old, listen to Snow White fifty three times in a row and listen to you beg us to stop at every Cracker Barrel you see just so you can eat gravy. And we would never have to spray Spf 50 on little backs and necks or watch you stare in amazement at the beach. And though we wouldn't have to pack like we were joining the circus on a 50 city tour - we also wouldn't watch you play in the sand with your brother like he was your very best friend. So what fun would that be?

Sure we might live in a bigger house, or drive a nicer car.

But then we would never know the joys of being able to hear you whisper to your brother each night, "I love you, brudder" or each morning, "Get up! They can't hear us!" And who wants to drive a luxury car when you could drive a four door sedan with fries in the cushions and bloody napkins stuffed in car seats? Where's the fun in that?

And so today as I get ready to celebrate you turning four years old I think about all the ways my life might be different were you not in it. And it seems no fun at all. So someday when you read this I want you to know - you are a lot of fun.

You are also a lot of trouble...

a lot of anxiety...

and a lot of stress.

But a whole lot of fun.

Someone once told me that every age was their favorite. They couldn't decide which age they liked best. I wanted to ball up my fist and hit them in the nose because three? Yeah, I hated three. Hated it. Loathed it. Wouldn't have offered it up to my worst enemy.

But I love you. And that's what matters I suppose. That, and the fact that there aren't enough filet mignons, Volvo's or Armando's to fill up my heart the way you do. And though some days I would like to test that theory for sure, I know it isn't true.

I love you, Remi Hope. Happy Birthday. And may your fourth year on earth be lots more behaved than this last one. Mmmmmkay?

Sweet mercy, what have I done?




I think Rocco responded with the disdain and disgust that most young boys do, so his daddy is happy about that.

But her? She's glued. GLUED. And I am now reaping the years I sowed into The New Kids on the Block.

I blame you, Donny Wahlberg, I blame you.

Breathe In. Breathe Out.

Today is Monday. And I almost didn't live to see it.

I know I tend to be dramatic at times and so you often have to take what I'm saying with a grain of salt, but with my hand in the air I tell you, I almost didn't live to see today.

Last night at 5:30 my family almost became a horrible statistic.

It had been a wonderful afternoon; after-church napping followed by some pool time and cold watermelon. Aaahhh. The best part of it was I was able to sit comfortably in my chair reading my People magazine while The AG and Poppie did all the necessary cheering for kids who slid down the slide, jumped off the side and actually made it out of the pool in time to use the bathroom. It had been a good time.

As we were just about to head in I removed Rocco's swim diaper, wrapped him up in a towel (which he promptly tossed aside) and turned to answer my dad's question, "Are these towels yours or mine?" "Their mine. Just leave them there."

That was all I said.

That was all it took.

My head had been turned for four, maybe five seconds, and there he was. Rocco. At the bottom of the pool.

We never heard a splash. We never heard a sound. It was as if he was right there on the sidewalk walking to the house. And then he wasn't. It happened just like that. Four seconds, maybe five. Instantly.

When I looked up all I saw was some floating blond hair and little fingers reaching up out of the water. I remember leaping up from my chair, running to the water and then stopping. Not moving. I couldn't move. My legs were lead. I can swim. What was I doing? Jump in, idiot! But I couldn't. I was frozen. All I did was scream and scream. I just screamed, "Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!"

My dad jumped in the water and instantly Rocco was out. There was no coughing or gasping, no crying or spitting up water. Just Rocco taking a few deep breaths and resting his head on my shoulder. My heaving, crying, sobbing shoulder.

"Mama's got you. Mama's got you. Mama's got you."

I couldn't say it enough. I still can't. Mama's got you. Mama's got you.

He looked at me and he knew, Momma is just as scared as I was. But he never showed it. I did.

Later that night we gave him a bath and he never flinched at the water. Never screamed, "No! No!" Never acted traumatized or shocked. Just Rocco.

After it happened - "the incident" as we call it - I told everyone I needed a moment. I went to my room and locked my door. I remember last summer how little he was when we took him to his ISR (Infant Swimming Resource) classes. I remember watching them put him under water in all of his clothes and shoes and how he had to learn to hold his breath and float on his back. I remember thinking that I hoped the day never came when he had to put those lessons into play. And as I lay across my bed last night sobbing at the thought of losing him, of looking away, of running to the side and freezing, I remember that when he came up out of the water there was no gasping, no spitting water or throwing up water - none of it.

He had held his breath the whole time.

He had been holding his breath.

And suddenly I said the only word that had been so present on my lips: "Jesus. Jesus. Jesus."
And then after a moment. After I pulled myself together. After a good long cry. I also said: "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

And then I stood up and took a looooong, deep breath.

Because as a momma you know: life is simply holding your breath until the next time you need His protection.

My son, let not them depart from thine eyes:

keep sound wisdom and discretion:

So shall they be life unto thy soul, and grace to thy neck.

Then shalt thou walk in thy way safely, and thy foot shall not stumble.

Proverbs 3:21-23

The Last Time I Talked To My Mother...

This is based on a true story. A very, very true story.

~~~~~~~~~

Mom: Melissa, what does that mean?

Me: What?

Mom: What you just said.

Me: What did I just say?

Mom: "That's what she is wanting to know."

Me: Who's wanting to know?

Mom: Don't ask me - you said it.

Me: I never said that.

Mom: Yes, you did. Michelle said "That's the biggest arm I've ever seen" and then you said "that's what she's talking about."

Me: Okay, first of all, that is not what Michelle said. And secondly, that is not what I said.

Mom: But you know what I'm saying. What is it you're saying?

Me: "That's what she said?"

Mom: Who?

Me: No, me. "That's what she said" is what I said.

Mom: Right. You said something like, "That what she was thinking about."

Me: No, I'm pretty sure I said "that's what she said."

Mom: I know, Melissa. Quit being a smartalic. Now what does it mean?

Me: It is just something stupid you say after someone makes a comment. Its supposed to be a dirty joke, but I don't like to talk like that so I just say it after anything really.

Michelle: Yeah, right.

Melissa: I don't!

Mom: Well, here's what I don't like about it, we are talking about this girl and she can't even defend herself. We don't even know for sure if she said that.

Me: Huh?

Mom: SHE! Whoever she is. Who are we talking about? Who is this girl?

THE END.

(That's what she said.)

While I've Been Away...

Hello, my name is Melissa. I used to have a blog.

Ya know how I'm feeling? I'm feeling like that kid in the 4th grade class who missed three weeks of school due to Scarlet Fever, he comes back to school having lost 30 pounds and the teacher says, "Wow, Tommy - you have had perfect attendance this year."

I've been gone, people! Hasn't anyone missed me?

I mean I know I'm not Bryan Williams reporting the top news stories of the day, and I know the most important things I post are what my children are up to and horror stories from the bathroom - but for pete's sake, a girl likes to know she's missed.

You can thank DELL for my absence. I don't know, maybe you can thank me, maybe I downloaded a virus, but I don't think so. I think it's them. I always think it's them. Passing blame is kinda "my thang."

So I've been without a computer for over a week and find the only times I can post anything to my blog is when I go to my mother's. But then I have to contend with her filling my ear with things like, "Did I tell you your aunt Ruth went missing for three weeks? They found her in the lingerie department at Weiners, sobbing." Or my all time favorite, "You need to take better care of yourself and try to shed some of that water weight. I'm afraid we're going to lose you in the pool."

You can see why I've chosen to just NOT post.

But I'm here today because I have sooooo many things to say. Okay, that's a lie. In all honesty, I got nothing. I would tell you about my Mother's Day but it was NOT filled with me, alone, in a spa, or on a beach, 12 hours away from my children...so it wasn't all it could have been. But it was nice nonetheless. I got a cookbook on how to make "comfort foods" in under 350 calories. Think my family is trying to tell me something?

Oh, there was the parent / teacher conference I had with Remi's 3K teacher this past week. I cried the whole way through it. And she's only in 3K. And I love her teacher, mind you. Love. Her. But her and I decided we'd like to give that Dr. Dobson a piece of our mind by saying "Hey, you, meet Remi Hope and THEN re-write The Strong Willed Child. We dare you." We're not sure he's man enough.

Or there's the story I could tell you about how the women in my family had an intervention with me the other day about my need to buy a new bra. One of them actually told me her brand new car didn't have headlights as big as mine. I hate them. And yet I keep inviting them over. It's a sickness, really.

So that's how its been going for me. What about you all? I've missed you. And no, I haven't had Scarlet Fever and no I haven't lost 30 pounds - don't get your hopes up.

He Should Be Thankful They Hadn't Lit Candles.

When I moved back to my hometown there were a few things I had to "get right" in my mind.

1. There would be no more Marshall's.

This would not be easy as my entire house is furnished by Marshall's, some of the AG and I's biggest fights came after my overspending at Marshall's and let us not forget that some of my best bathroom regularity come from, you guessed it, Marshall's.

2. I would no longer hear the phrase "meat-n-three."

I remember the first time I used this Tennessee phrase with my parents. They looked at me like I had three heads. But a meat-n-three (which refers to, hold on this gets confusing, a meat and three sides) in Tennessee is very common. Not so in Texas. In Texas it is either "fried or not-fried", "sweet or not sweet," "covered or ..." well there really is just covered. And no one refers to the fact that you get meat and three sides. You just read the menu and don't ask no questions, thankyouverymuch.

3. And lastly, no Costco.

A moment of silence. Please.

But one thing I did not prepare myself for was the news. News in the 75904 is not quite like the news in Nashvegas. Mainly in Nashvegas its things like "Music City Killer Strikes Again" or "Little Jimmy Dickens Found To Be Taller Than Recently Reported." Stuff like that. Not so here in the 75904, take yesterday's newsworthy posting:

Police: Hudson woman stabs common-law husband for bed behavior

By JESSICA COOLEY/The Lufkin Daily News

A Hudson woman was arrested early Tuesday, accused of stabbing her common-law husband because she was unhappy with his performance in the bedroom, an arrest report stated. Hudson Police officers were called around 1 a.m. Tuesday to the Ted Trout Drive home Michelle Thomas, 26, shared with the man.

The man told police Thomas became angry with him when she was not satisfied by a sexual encounter the two shared just before the incident, the report stated. He said she grabbed a pair of scissors and began slashing at him, according to the report. Officers noted the man had minor cuts to his chest, left thumb and left knee.

Thomas told officers the man was drunk and had grabbed her by the wrists, threw her on the bed and began choking her, according to the report. Officers saw no visible injuries on Thomas. The man said the only time he put his hands on her was during the sexual encounter, the report stated.

Thomas was arrested and charged with aggravated assault with a deadly weapon, although the man told officers he didn’t want to press charges.

Thomas faces a second-degree felony charge, carrying a sentence up to 20 years in prison and up to a $10,000 fine.

Thomas was being held in the Angelina County Jail as of Tuesday morning, pending a bond hearing.

Yep, that's right, folks. Here in the 75904 bedroom battles make for front page fodder.

Can you imagine how thankful I was that I didn't make headlines, considering just last week I tried slashing at the Attorney General after he told me "maybe if you lie down on the bed they'll actually zip!" (Idiot. Like I hadn't tried that.)

But this just goes to show you that here in my hometown you never know what is going on with your neighbors behind their closed doors.

Unless they try to stab someone...

While in the throws of passion...

And it makes the paper.

Then you totally know.

And I'm not gonna lie, for a nosey girl like me, I'm kinda glad about that.

Though my digestive system could still use a good Mashall's every now and then.

Reasons I Want To Runaway...But Never Will.

Recently I have taken to posting some "controversial" topics that have made headlines here on my blog, because I have noticed you all come out like gangbusters when I ask for your opinion.

Which goes to prove this blog is read primarily by women since we have this chip in our DNA that emotes some sort of high pitched squeal when anyone, anywhere wants to know our opinion. (Some of us have a chip in our DNA that goes off regularly, whether anyone asks or not - I have one of those) And so today I am writing about poor, poor, pitiful Tiffany. Our 2010 newsworthy Runaway Mom as she has become known. Remember her story?

~~~~~~~~~
To him, she was an angel. To her, he was a way out.

Tiffany Tehan and Tre Hutcherson explain why they ran off together.But runaway mom Tiffany Tehanand Tre Hutcherson are now back in Ohio dealing with the fallout from their week on the run that triggered a nationwide search.

Tehan, 31, admitted on "Good Morning America" today that she has visited with her daughter Lexie, who is 13-months-old, only once she returned from south Florida last week.

Hutcherson, 42, said he had notified his wife by text message that he was leaving her. His wife has since filed for divorce.

Their sprint from their marriages included pictures of the couple from their time in Florida flashing wide grins while on the beach.

But Hutcherson said he knew they would runaway romance was coming to an end.

Hutcherson said he had been monitoring news of the search from his laptop, keeping the details from Tehan at her request. Then he read that the FBI had joined the manhunt.

"At that point I knew we were on a short time frame before we were going to be found," he told "Good Morning America" the couple's exclusive morning show interview.

"I really didn't think anyone would look that hard for me," Tehan said. "Maybe a little bit, but not nearly what it turned into."

Tehan said she cracked under the pressure "to be perfect."

"In a nutshell I was feeling pretty overwhelmed with life, just the pressures of work and raising a 1-year-old daughter," she said. "I wish that I had handled things completely differently."

Hutcherson said the decision to flee to southern Florida was a "spur of the moment" decision sparked by an off-the-cuff comment."I said, 'Sometimes I think about getting on [Interstate] 75 and driving down to Florida and getting away for it all,'" Hutcherson said. "And she said flippantly, 'Don't forget to take me along.'"

The discovery of Tehan's SUV abandoned with a flat tire and they keys still inside panicked her family, but Hutcherson said the purposely left the keys inside as a courtesy to her husband so he'd still be able to use it.

Tehan disappeared while she was supposedly shopping on Saturday, April 17. Tehan and Hutcherson will not face criminal charges, but will pay thousands in restitution to help cover the cost of the search, an attorney for the couple told ABC News last week.

Tehan said she assumed her husband and daughter would be fine without her.

"I would have never ever have left her if I thought she wasn't well cared for," she said. "The only reason I didn't take her is because I didn't want to trigger an Amber Alert."

For his part, her husband David Tehan, has seemed immediately forgiving.

"She may have made some mistakes, but everyone does," he said recently.

~~~~~~~~~

I suppose in some, distorted way, I sympathize with Tiff. If we were honest with ourselves - we probably all do. I'm sure at some time or another we have all felt the pressure to be perfect. I'm sure at some point a one year old made us want to flee for the border. And I would wager a bet that every one of us have, at some time, looked at our spouse and thought, "if you don't pluck that nose hair I am going to come at you in your sleep."

But did we run? I haven't. I've wanted to. But I haven't. And here's why. Just in case you wanted my opinion. Though you probably didn't. So get your own blog.

Reason I Want to Run:

Because sometimes I don't want to get up with small children at 6am. I don't want to do the same thing I did yesterday and the day before that and the day before that. I don't want to make chocolate milk in the same Cinderella cup that I make it in every day. And I don't want to wash the same pair of Old Navy shorts out night after night so that he can wear his favorite pair. Sometimes I just want Monday to look different than Tuesday; but it rarely ever does.

Reason I Won't:

Because I used to wake up on Mondays and wonder what I was going to do with myself. I wondered who I was. What I was here for. I was 15. I was 24. I was 28. And I never really knew. And then you came along and you gave me purpose. You reminded me of what I was put on earth to do for this season. Be here for you. And sometimes when I am washing out your blanket that has grass stains and boogers, I look at it and think "for such a times as this." And I thank God for every season under heaven. A season like this, when you need me. And a season to come later, when you won't.

Reason I Want to Run:

Because you call me at home from work and ask me to do something for you (pick up your cleaning, make your doctor appt., schedule the bug guy, pay the light bill) and God forbid I forget to do it.

Reason I Won't:

I was sitting in the doctors office the other day and I got a text from you, "Can you run by the pharmacy and pick up my prescription?" I wanted to scream because it was just another thing I had to cram into an already packed day, but as I looked across the room I saw the cutest little brunette sitting there. She was about my age. Except she looked thinner and not nearly as tired. And I thought to myself, "What if it was her he was texting? What if it was her who had his attention?" And then just as quickly as I had become agitated I became thankful. Because it was me. It was me who had you. And you who had me. And then I sorta wanted to go pull her hair out but she wouldn't have understood why.

Reason I Want to Run:

Because there is a really good possibility that I am doing all of this wrong. The kids. Maybe I'm screwing them up. And the AG? What if I drive him to an early grave (which he declares every day). What if God is running His fingers through his hair and saying, "Who put her in charge? Seriously, who?"

Reason I Won't:

Because there is a really good possibility I'm not. Maybe I'm not perfect - but maybe I'm perfect for them. Maybe I'm perfect for him. And maybe God, in His infinite wisdom, is sitting back going "I can't believe we put her in charge but at least she's not running. And there's gotta be some reward in there for her just for that."

So whether they like it or not, mama ain't goin' anywhere anytime soon. And I'm hoping this is my reward...

"And her children rose up and called her blessed; her husband and he praised her..." Psalm 31:28

Though if not, a spa works nicely.