Here's the kicker.  When fights erupt, he has the power, because I have given it to him.  He preys upon my fears and uses them to conquer.  Today, "he is (holds up his thumb and forefinger) this close to being done."  Yep, my biggest fear!

How should I have responded to that?  The fighter in me wants to tell him not to let the door hit him in the ass.  The lover in me wants to grab him and hold him and tell him how sorry I am and beg him to stay.  The emotional me wants to burst into tears.  The realistic me (that me doesn't dwell here often) knows he isn't going anywhere because he has nowhere to go.  The pride in me kept me from doing/saying anything. 

I wasn't even given the chance…

This outburst was interrupted by GOD himself.  While Brandon was pacing and fuming and being a jerk, a nice Mormon rang our doorbell.  For those of you that do not know much about Mormons, God talks to them, no really, and I am 100% positive that God spoke to Jimmy Johnson and told him to get over to the Benson's because their marriage was in peril.

I left the room after I let Jimmy in, because he is Brandon's friend not mine, so I have no idea what was said, but he must have talked Brandon off the cliff, because after Jimmy left, Brandon chilled his beans and didn't leave.  Currently, nine hours since those words were spoken, he is still here.  I guess, this(______) close wasn't close enough? 

I could go on and on about the fight, about the stress, about the hurt feelings, but what is the point?  I KNOW this happens in all marriages.  While I like to think that mine is more special than everyone else's, it's not.  We are two people with completely different backgrounds, totally different ideas and two different brains.  We fight. We disagree. We hurt each other. We say things we may or may not mean. We keep score, we bring up the past, and we will do it again and again a hundred more times…. Until finally one day, it won't hurt anymore.  And that's when I'll know it's time to "be done."

Until then, I am hurt.

I am building my walls.  

I have vowed to stop sharing everything.  I have vowed to stop letting stupid things upset me, and I vow to keep these promises for the next hour or so……

This post is a public THANK YOU to God for saving my marriage today.  Because Brandon was this close(______) to being done.

Having babies is detrimental to your private parts.  Just thought you should know that.  

This message was brought to you today by the letters V and J.  

And by the number 18,000.

I will give you all a more detailed, yet tasteful, report on Monday.  For now, I have far too much laundry to do to be sitting here. 

It's been a hell of a year!  You have most certainly aged me.  Here I thought that I just had to get you all to eighteen and I was home free….

Clearly, I was an idiot.  

Honestly, I am so grateful for the things that have transpired this year. While it's been hell for sure, blessings have come from it.  I have seen amazing growth and important life skills learned…..  in myself.  I think you have wised up a bit too.  

I am so proud of you and the things you are doing.  You have taken charge of your life and your future and are doing things that YOU want to do… for that I am THRILLED!  Please follow your heart.  Find your "thing" and do it!  

I am blessed to have had you around this year.  I have missed you so much.  You bring such a fun spirit to our family.  There is nothing more fun than watching Arrested Development with you and hearing your comparisons between our family and theirs.  We truly are a sitcom.  I love seeing you play with the kids and being such a good brother.  You make me happy!

Everyone that meets you tells me how fabulous you are.  Nothing makes a mom happier than hearing how NICE their kids are. I don't care if you are nineteen or two, moms like sweet children.   I remember in 2nd grade when you let little Kathryn Wiscome beat you in 'around the world'.  Mrs. Robbins sent a note home to tell me how sweet you were and I was overjoyed.  That is one of the best feelings.  I love being a mom to nice kids.  Thanks for being that kid. 

.

There are NO words to adequately describe how grateful I am for you.  You are my heart and soul.  I love you more than you will ever know. 

Have a BLAST in Asheville.  Be GOOD!  

Love, mom

PS- Here is your song.

AT 18 months-

You dance.   

You jump. 

You climb in and out of your highchair, but thankfully not your crib.

You love to swim and get better at it everyday.

You love to play with Parker.

You love music.

You love Signingtime and all music videos.

You love Charlie!  …a little too much sometimes.

You love to kiss.

You still have stranger danger and cling extra tight when there is somebody you don't know around.

You love to chase and be chased. 

You love the park.  The slide is your favorite.

You say everything Parker does.  Admittedly, he is not the best teacher.

You are a tender heart.  If you get your feelings hurt, we all know it.

You love the car and don't make a peep while we drive.

You love bananas and eggs.

You love Charlie!  A LOT! (It's worth repeating)

You love Sailor.  You are a sweetheart with her.  

You love to read.  Books are a new favorite.  You like books with kids and babies in them.  

You love our morning walks. 

You wear size four diapers, size 12-18  clothes and size four shoes.  You are a tiny little thing.

You HATE having your hair touched, combed, washed, conditioned, greased, looked at, or breathed on.  

You don't like……

I honestly can't think of one thing you don't like.  You are so easy going and chill and happy.  What a breath of fresh air after your older brother.  

I love you Miss Ellie.  You make my heart pitter pat!  

Happy one and a half!

I couldn't be more proud.  She applied to nine colleges and received nine acceptance letters. Many with HUGE scholarships.

Redlands- CA

Goucher- MD

Guilford- NC

Warren Wilson- NC

Greensboro- NC

Agnes Scott- GA (All Girls)

Hollins- VA (All Girls)

Berry- GA

Salem- NC (All Girls)

Now comes the hard part…. choosing which one she wants to attend.  

I am flying to Chattanooga next week to pick her up and do a five day college tour road trip. WOOT WOOT!   Shaylee will return home with me for her spring break and we can drive to Redlands when she is here.  If I had my way, we wouldn't see anything but REDLANDS, because how freakin' fun to have Shaylee so close to home?  BUT, I am keeping my nose out of her business and letting her follow her heart, because I believe, without a doubt, that she will know where she is supposed to be. I am only along for the ride.  

I love watching these people grow up.  

YAY SHAYLEE NICOLE!!!  

YOU ROCK!!

-I am finally ready to get the new boobs I have had my eyes on for a few years now.

-I want to get my butt lifted back up to where it belongs.

-I want my crotch cinched up a bit so you can't tell where Shaylee grabbed the inside of my vagina and hung on while she entered the world. 

-a tummy tuck would be fabulous.

-I am also looking at the brazilian butt augmentation in the process.  They will suck the fat out of the rolls on my belly and stick the fat in my fanny.   …two birds with one stone in my opinion.  No more fat rolls and little junk in the trunk making my entire body more pleasing to the eye.  

Sounds good right?

Here are my issues-

I am a wuss when it comes to surgery.  I hate going under the knife, I am always sure I will never wake up, I always puke my guts out when I do, and finally, the guilt of having to be taken care of…. SUCKS!  

Pain pills and Sandi DO NOT MIX!  For as long as I can remember I have had "ALLERGIC TO DEMEROL" stamped on top of all my medical charts. When I was a young one, I had major surgery to correct an inward rotation of my legs.  (pigeon toed, but the entire leg.) When I was in the hospital, they were pumping me so full of demerol that I took a MAJOR TRIP and still have VIVID memories of that week.  

There was a camel in my hospital room.  

My brothers were in the glass IV bottle.  They would knock and wave and float around in the saline on air mattresses. They were having much more fun than I.  

I was 100% positive I was Mary, from the nursery rhyme "Mary Had A Little Lamb."  I didn't have a lamb in the room, I had a camel, but I was laying on a lambskin pad to prevent bedsores.   That could make sense.    

Flash forward to 2005 when I got breast implants.  The pain pills I was popping had the exact same effect as the demerol.  My ironing board came to life.  It was like something you would see in Beauty and the Beast.  My closet door had to be shut the entire day or the ironing board would walk out and talk to me.   I had a pet goldfish. (her name happened to be Dorothy. She was visiting from Elmo's World.)   I saw spiders, most of them talked.  I couldn't remember my kids' names.  I thought Shaylee was my sister. I thought I owned a beauty supply store….  I was a head case.  My older children loved every minute of it and would come in to sit with me in hopes of hearing or seeing something off the wall.  Sadly, they were rarely disappointed, and to this day, they love to talk about the time that mom got new boobs….

Side note to this post- Hunter has the exact same problem and without spilling all his private stuff on the internet, he was hallucinating like a crazy person after one Tylenol Codine.  FRIGHTENING!  

If I can toughen up and stop being such a pansy, there are indeed some pros to this cosmetic surgery.

For example-

I had this awful vein in my leg for 14 years.  Last July, I finally felt brave enough to get it fixed.  EVERYDAY I wonder why in the hell I waited so long to fix that ugly thing.  I dealt with YEARS of self consciousness at the beach.  I never wore cute skirts or shorts because who wants to look at purple bulging vein?  I hated that thing!   I wish I had been brave enough to do something about it years ago because at thirty eight, do I have any business wearing cute mini skirts?  Yeah, I didn't think so.

You have heard me say similar things about my teeth.  I love my smile now, I don't cringe at every picture I see of myself anymore.  I am happy to give a cheesy grin whenever you want me to.  I should have fixed my teeth at 25. 

The other thing I have always hated and been so self conscious about is my skin.  If I could have asked for anything, it would have been a clear complexion. I tried everything under the sun, both prescription and over the counter, my entire life and NOTHING WORKED.  I used to fantasize about a skin transplant.  I figured in the end if you are blessed with a "skinny gene" and a high metabolism, God has to curse you with something else, and for me, it was ZITS and the LOVE to pick them.   I think my skin may have looked tons better if I could have just left it the hell alone, but picking was a part of my day. I'd wash my face and plant my butt in front of a 5X magnifiying mirror and proceed to pick anything and everything I could see until I would bleed.  That was my routine.  But not anymore!!

For thirteen weeks I have been taking Accutane.  This is much like the vein in my leg…. WHY IN THE HELL DIDN'T I DO THIS 20 YEARS AGO???  WHY?  My skin is now lovely.  I haven't had a ZIT to pick for 10 weeks.  I wash my face and go to bed.  I don't have to touch up every picture that is on the camera.  I don't have to cover up with makeup.  I don't even have to wear makeup if I don't want to.  A little sunscreen is all.   I am over the moon with the results!  Why did I waste so many years of my life looking like a monster when I could have done this years ago and been happy with my skin?  

I think that is where I am right now. Wondering why I didn't do this stuff sooner and since I still have things that I am not happy about, I want to fix them. The things that I have fixed in the past have turned out better than I expected. So I want to fix everything.  My initial list is long and extravagant and expensive and if it didn't require multiple BIG SCARY SCARS, and wasn't soooo invasive, and came for free, I might consider doing everything.  

The butt stuff, I think I can accomplish with a little exercise.   That same exercise might diminish the fat rolls hanging over my waist band.  Wish me luck.  You all know how good I am at working out.

BUT my privates, all of them, do need help.  And no amount of squeezing, tightening, running, or relaxing can do a damn thing about any of them.

Tomorrow I am visiting this office for a crotch consult. The very second I have disposable income, I am going to have my girly bits returned back to a pre-vaginal-delivery state.  The moment I heel from that little procedure, I am going to move up to my chest because I HAVE to get rid of these bags of water under my skin.  I am thanking the good Lord above for the invention of silicone. I can't wait to have squishy boobs instead of crinkly ones.

I will keep you all posted as I try and age gracefully.  

PS- I just had Brandon read through this post and asked, "will people flip their lids at this?"  

To which he replied, "Oh yeah."

According to Brandon, my critics are going to flip for one of the following reasons. 1) I am setting a bad example for my children. 2) They will be jealous. 3) any person that doesn't agree with cosmetic surgery will have a problem with this entire post. and finally 4) I attract my share of crazy readers that always look at the most negative side of anything I write and jump my shit whenever they can.  

I am geared up and ready.

I'm sure one of you may even decide that I am doing this entirely for the hallucinogenics…  I'll be honest, after the last few weeks, I won't argue too harshly with you.  I am ready for a trip….  and how nice will it be to wake up with a brand new vagina?   YAY ME!  

You've been one of us for five months.  It seems like so much longer than that.  We wouldn't be complete without you.

At 5 months-

You eat eight ounces every four hours. 

You sleep ALL NIGHT LONG!

You take two good naps per day.

You love the car and walks in the stroller.

You don't roll yet.

You don't sit yet.

You SMILE with your entire body.

You love peek-a boo and patty cake. 

You love snuggling with blankets and cloth diapers.  

Your fat rolls are to die for.

You look just like Ellie at this age. 

You love the kids and get so excited when they walk in the room.

You are a mommy's girl and I LOVE it.

You like your daddy a little too!