.::still blinking::.

The guys that I work with at tradeshows for Control4 know that I get post-partum depression. They know that I love my little boy, but when they ask if I miss him and I say things like, “No.” They say things back like I guess that the post-partum never really left your system.

The thing is, Gentry is not supposed to be at tradeshows with me. If he were I would probably miss him. However, if I were home alone for seven days, I am sure that I would go crazy with worry and not know what to do with myself. I also know that he is being taken care of. I know that jj’s parents love him and I do not worry about him while he is with them. I worry more about leaving him with a 15-year old who may not follow the directions and put him in bed at 10 rather then 8, which is bedtime. Then the next day I will have to deal with Prince Angry Pants, and he will let me know he is the king and I am the lowly stable maid.

And then there is this from Finslippy. It is amazing how you can love a little person so much, but it is like you are tied together and wish for a few moments for yourself. I need the moments to myself to reflect and think about my parenting. While in the thick of being beaten in the thigh with a thick wooden spoon, it is hard to be a smart, clear thinking adult. I need the moments away from him to breath. To remember I do not love Buzz Lightyear and that Pepperidge Farm Fish are not my favorite food. I need the moments away to remind me that there is a me.

The other day after dinner I was holding Gentry. I was wearing a shirt that had a semi-plunging neckline. As we were both standing there talking to jj, he dove his hand down between my bosoms. I stood there for a second recalling a time as a child I had done the same to my Grandma Katherine, and she had kind of freaked out and I still remember the shame that I had felt. I was small enough at the time to still be held, so I was pretty young, not a pre-teen pervert. I decided not to react that way.

Instead I said, “Whatcha looking for?”

He fiddled around for a second longer and then said, “Mangoes.”

Interesting, I thought, fat chance of finding anything down there.

What is that law of physics? For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.

Yesterday, I kept thinking. This ebay thing is not that big of a deal. I have taken care of it and done all that I can. It is not like these people are going to drive here from Kentucky to beat me up, so why the heck am I still crying over this?

Also, yesterday, a huge helping of chocolate, a nap and some PMS pills made me feel about hundred times better. I took the PMS pills because they have helped me feel better before, not because I was suspecting PMS.

This morning I woke up with cramps. Male readers, if there are any of you besides jj, I am sorry. Tonight, I finally realized my reaction way over compensated for the problem, and it must be because of my monthly friend.

When I go to tradeshows with jj, there is one guy that is so funny. He tells me about his wife and how there are times where she turns into another woman, he is referring to once a month and during and after pregnancy. I can relate. He tells me how she reacts to things. I think to myself, “That is not a weird reaction, why are you cracking up?” He talks about calling home when he is away from home and the other woman will answer the phone, swear at him for a few minutes and then hang up on him. I guess it does not help your nerves when your six year old is in the other room giving you the finger.

I wish that I could recognize my emotions while I am going through them. I guess throwing popcorn at jj and slamming the bedroom door should have been a good hint to all involved. I think that jj just ducked and covered, a smart defensive move on his part, he could have been in danger of losing his head. I really should keep better track of these things, but I get finished and it feels like three days later I start again. Jeez, at least we know I am not pregnant.

I can just imagine it now. I mean no insult to all those who are pregnant, but lets face it, we all get a double chin when there is a bun in the oven. So, I would be the fat, pregnant woman, holding a bowl of chicken curry, throwing spoons or forks or anything I can get my hands on yelling at you for coming to my house to sweep the floor the wrong way, because obviously you are going to do it wrong. The audacity! My way is the only way! Obviously!

And you better watch out. My reaction is not always equal to the action. Sometimes my action far outweighs what you could even come close to imagining.

Chocolate and sleep sure make a girl happy.

It is nice to know there are people around who like me. When Gentry was sick, so many of you called and emailed to ask how he was doing. I appreciate knowing such kind people.

He is doing a lot better. He is back to taking short naps and he is eating sugar cookies for lunch. I know, I am such a great mom. It has all the major food groups: flour, milk, trans fats. I like to take care of my family.

He is also such a sweet boy. Today I was upset because of a situation I am dealing with with ebay. I don’t really want to bore you with it, except if you sell stuff, don’t accept money orders. I was crying at the top of the stairs and he came up and said, “Hold you mama.” And he hugged me and lied his head on my shoulder. He then then looked up and wiped away my tears with his little chubby hands and brushed my face with his hands like someone does when they are trying to comfort you. So lovingly. “Mama sad?” He asked, “Yeah, mama sad.” And he hugged me again.

I then sucked it up and went to check the blogs that I check, including mine. Sarah had left a comment about Thai food. It was nothing inspiring, except that someone knows me and cared enough to share a little thought. It has helped and it reminded me that I am surrounded by people who love and care about me and my family.

Thank you.

I don’t think that you could possibly understand the insane craving I am having for curry. I have been frightened of curry for years. I once bought one of those boxed, just add chicken and a vegetable dinner that was curry based. It dyed the spoon I used to stir it bright yellow and tasted awful. Last year at the trade show I was talking to one of jjs coworkers and he told me I needed to try curry. I was frightened, but I have had a coconut curry tofu recipe in my recipe box forever, mostly for the coconut milk. It is so good. I then found a recipe for samosas, that I love. They are in one of these pictures.

While we were in Vegas we went with jjs coworkers to an Indian restaraunt. Oh my gosh, it was so good. I have not had Indian food, except for what I have made. We had curries and mango shakes and tandori chicken. Yum. I think that every meal next week is going to be a curry, Indian inspired dream. I will let you in on all the wonders that I am going to be creating. I am so excited.

Check this out. It is morbid and fun. It is also in french, so the few words that you recognize let you know you are killing a little monster.

Do you know the unbearable heartbreak of having a sick baby in another state and there is nothing you can do to help?

jj and I have been in Las Vegas for a week working with his company at the Consumer Electronics Show. Gentry was at jj’s parents house, that is where he always goes, he likes it up there. I called periodically, the last time on Tuesday. On Thursday night we called them to see how things were going. “Bad” was the reply and they had not called because they did not want us to worry. Just after I called on Tuesday, Gentry started throwing up. This continued for a day and then came the diarrhea and fever. By Thursday night when we called he had not wet in his diaper all day. They talked to jj and said that they wanted to take him to the emergency room to have him checked for dehydration.

The headache that starts at the base of your neck and wraps itself into the sockets of your eyes immediately started, and I could not keep the tears away. I could not get home fast enough. We took off from Vegas and landed in Salt Lake and called again to check his status.

He had blood work done and was getting an i.v. to help with the dehydration. He was watching the Fox and the Hound and eating a popsicle. They said as soon as he got some liquids into him he started acting a lot better and talking to them. jj’s mom told me today that he slept all day yesterday, but that he had to be laying on her. He would wake up occasionally and look up at her and say, “Hi Tutu.” And then go back to sleep.

We did not drive up there from the airport last night. There really was nothing that we could have done to help, they were doing what we would have done. They brought him back home today and he is asleep now, taking a long nap. Almost three hours now.

I hate it when he is sick. There really is nothing that you can do for them except hold them and hope that is goes away soon. It tears my heart out to see those around me suffering and not being able to help. He is home now, and there is nothing for me to worry about any longer. I just hope that he gets better soon.

I realized this morning that I am in an abusive relationship…

with my toddler. Or as we have been calling him lately “The Gestapo”.

I don’t know which one of you taught him to smile like this, but when I find out, you are going to pay. I loved the candid photos I used to take and now every time I pull out the camera he pulls this goofy grin out of his pocket and applies it to his face.

Anyway, he does not like me to talk to anyone. He does not like that I talk to other gentlemen, in particular the one that I am married to. He HAS to know who I was just on the phone with. He tells me if he likes them or not. He likes baby josh, but I don’t talk to him a whole lot. He also likes Ross who throws dogs (stuffed ones) into the air and catches them.

He needs to know what I am doing at all times. “Mom, what doing?” Um, showering, like I said 30 seconds ago. “Mom, what doing?” Driving. “Mom, I drive.” No, not for another 14 years son. “Mom, what doing?” Making dinner. “I do it.” Ok, here is some flour and oatmeal in a bowl, go to town Emeril.

He hits me when I don’t do things the way he likes them. Like when I am taking him to his bed for a nap, I usually get a smack, for obvious reasons. What kind of heathen mother would put her angry son down for his afternoon nap? Probably the one that needs a break from the constant head butting in her pelvis. For I while I would give him a time out, but I figured he was hitting me to get more time out of bed. So now he just goes straight to bed.

He throws his food and drinks on the floor if it is not what he wants. I mean, how awful of me to feed him chips and salsa and chocolate milk for lunch, these are usually his favorite foods. What was I thinking? Obviously I wasn’t, and now I must pay, and go get him some Care Bear fruit snacks out of the pantry or he will hit me with the spoon he is planning to make dinner with.

As you can see I have a mini-Gestapo calling the shots around here. He says “Jump!” I say, “Master, would you like fries with that?”

I am going to Las Vegas on Saturday for CES, the Consumer Electronics Show. In my pre-tradeshow beauty rush I have lots of things to wax, pluck, and polish.

Yesterday I put on a Biore strip on my nose to remove my black heads. This morning when I woke up I had a bruise across the bridge of my nose. I guess when I pulled it off I pulled to hard and fast and broke some blood vessels. Isn’t that attractive? I am hoping that my glasses will cover it up so that people will not notice; well that and the entire bottle of base I am going to use to try and cover it up. If anyone asks I will tell them that the tall gangly red head at the front desk hit me when I didn’t bring him a beer and the paper.

Also, during the day occasionally I have to go to the bathroom. You know, like most normal people do. I usually get up early and take care of my business, but today I got busy to fast and did not get around to it until I had an audience of one. He wanted me to go play with his trains and I was busy, obviously. So he started pulling little pieces of toilet paper off the roll wiping my legs and trying to poke them into the toilet. He would then tell me that I was done and lets go play now. After a few minutes of this I talked him into getting me the remote. This remote is from my husbands company and can work about a block and a half away from the house, and it controls everything. So he went and got the control, from the toilet in my master bathroom I turned on “space man” for him, which being translated is “Toy Story 2.” This bought me some time, which I was thankful for. It is always hard to perform for an audience, especially one that heckles.