Molly ♥

I don't blog alot about Molly...and that would be because most of my ranting and raving consists of the craziness at my house. Molly is the only normal one here. But today I want to share a little bit about my Molly.

Molly is the oldest [and it kills her that her brother is bigger, taller, and older looking than her] and by far the most normal of the Shorties [that includes myself and Craig included]. Molly has shaped our lives, for the better, in so many ways. She has been with Craig and I through a lot [I know - it is a shocker that she has turned out as normal as she has considering the two bafoons that have raised her - miracles do happen]. Without divulging too much information, [yeah, right] Molly came into our lives before we were married. [With that being said, I told my dad after my FIRST date with Craig that I would marry him so no, we didn't just get married because we had Molly] There were times, early on, when we were not sure we could take care of her financially - diapers, formula, food, gas, rent - it adds up when the income coming in ain't much. She sometimes went to class with me at UNCC and my sweet Granny Towery kept her for us. Molly didn't have cute little dresses and fancy clothes that every mom dreams about dressing her baby girl in - we could barely afford to eat. If it hadn't been for family, she might have been naked and homeless. And I can remember back to the times when she would sing and dance for us and it makes me smile. She kept us going when we didn't think we would ever make it. God always has a plan doesn't He?

Now I look at all of the things she is and stands for and I can't help but smile and be proud. [No, I don't give myself credit] She is amazing. Her brothers and sister never have to worry because she always takes care of them. She babysits, she bathes them, [Not Cooper because that would be bizarre and super uncomfortable] she feeds them, she loves them, she comforts them, and she protects them. She's always been a pleaser so giving 200% when only 100% is required is nothing unusual. She is grounded in her values [which I would like to think her dad and I had a little say in] and totally committed to her faith.

She's also a little goofy and quirky [Goofy = Mom and Quirky = Dad]. She has this particular routine in the mornings and if you mess with her it throws her off. [For example, Craig moved her mousse and put it in a different spot - she had a fit...little quirky....llike her daddy...] She only has one speed - S L O W. She loves to dance but she doesn't want anyone to know that she is a good dancer because that might mean she's a little more girlie than she wants to let on. [Tomboy = Mom] She is a night owl - you practically have to beg her to go to bed. And she loves mushrooms, fried baloney [or bologna for those of you who think I can't spell] , and cookie dough.

I am proud to be her mom....I ♥ you Molly :) I often tell her that I want to be just like her when I grow up...and I do.

Why?

There have been many why moments in my life this week. Some of them are funny like these:

• Why did my three year old son pull his pants down and moon all of his three and four year old friends? [I should not have to explain this to anyone who knows his father should I?]
• Why does Cooper talk incessantly about random and bizarre things? [I mean really? We only drive about 1/2 a mile to get to work and he drives me nuts!!!]
• Why does Emma turn into Regan, the possessed chick from the Exorcist, every morning at 6:45am?

And others are not so funny:

• Why would a parent hurt their own child?
• Why is there so much apathy in the world? [I betcha didn't know I knew big words did ya?]
• Why is becoming more and more acceptable to pass the buck...to blame someone else....to shirk responsibilities?

I am honestly trying to look past some things that have happened this week but sometimes I really wonder why? Then I am reminded of a favorite song of mine....

And I say, "Jesus bring the rain....

Crack to the Head

Long time no blog my peeps...the Shorties have kept me ultra busy [but that just gives me more blog fodder]. Can you believe that it's already October? Where did August and September go? [Is it June yet?]

The laatest saga [could be trauma at some people's houses but at my house it was par for the course] happened on Monday. We were having a lovely day, at home, finally unpacking some little boxes [which were simply junk traps - we could have thrown them out without opening them since we threw them away after opening them] and hanging out. I had just cleaned the living room [yes, I do clean up...sometimes] and I was working on getting Emma's room in order [OMG....could she have anymore junk?] when I heard Gabe cry. He ran in there and told me that his sister pushed him and that he hit his head. Now his cry was not a I-just-impaled-my-head-on-the-kicking-tee-laying-in-the-living-room cry but more like an I-am-really-mad kind of cry. I asked if he was OK, he answered yes, and we both went about our business. Fastforward about 30 minutes....I was in the shower and Craig yelled, "Did you know Gabe has hit his head?", to which I answer, "YES!", to which he answers "Did you know he's bleeding?" [Well let's think about that for a moment...Yes, Craig, I did know he was bleeding but I decided to run a bubble bath, eat bon bons, and have a glass of wine...] "NO! I didn't know he was bleeding!!! Oh my gosh!! Is it bad? Does he need stitches? Is he ok?", to which Craig answers [with one answer to all of my questions] "I don't know." [You don't know if he's ok? Is he breathing? Is he alert? Is blood squirting from his head? I mean really...it isn't rocket science brother. You've scared me half to death the least you can do is give me a quick assessment of the injury while I'm getting the soap out of my eyes!] Next thing I know, Gabe was in the shower with me. Remember me telling you about Cooper's bloody nose and how I had to leave the room? I don't do blood...at all...for any reason. Now Craig was wanting me to wash the wound out and decide if he needed stiches - WHICH REQUIRED LOOKING AT THE BLOOD! Literally, with one eye, I made an executive decision: He needed stiches. [And I could have needed them too since I shaved my legs in about two seconds - sorry for you visual learners.]

We weighed our options:
A. We could go to the doctor's office but they were not sure they could do it without Gabe getting agitated.
B. We could go to the ER @ KMRMC.
C. We could go to the ER @ CRMC.
D. We could grab the duct tape and crazy glue. [It was a thought...]

Once we ruled out option A and C we were left to decide between B and D. [And thinking that I was going to have to pay the ER - AGAIN - made me want to decide on a B&E at a bank but then I thought better....]. I could not find the duct tape or the crazy glue so we were left with option B - the ER at the hospital in KM. [And I never imagined that at 2pm on a Monday afternoon that we would have to wait soooooo long to see a doctor] I am fairly certain the man in the set of chairs near us had tuberculosis or some other hideous and highly contagious funk. I'm also quite certain that Craig and I sat as far away as we could from everyone in there.

So almost 4 hours later Gabe ended up with two little staples nestled neatly under his curls. He has refused all week to allow us to look at the boo boo on his head. I am just hoping that the staples are not corroded or that the wound has not opened up at some point. All of this to say that this crack to the head [as he most eloquently told a woman at church] has not slowed him down at all. He has continued to climb, jump, run, play, and yes, drive me absolutely crazy :) Love that kid.

Things have been as crazy as ever at the Short house this week. Thankful for those four smiling faces [and yes, Craig too]...they so make it all worth it!

Life is good...Thanks be to God :)