The Fuzzball Chronicles: the Life and Times of Curly Mommy

The telephone is the lifeline of stay-at-home moms. It is the singlemost important tool that we use to fight loneliness, frustration, and depression. It helps us stay connected to the adult world. The telephone can also be a trap, a gossip trap. I am ashamed to say that I have fallen into this trap on countless occasions. I am now clawing my way out and I don't want to fall back in. No more gossip. I must stop. Friends, I am telling you in hopes that you will help keep me accountable. Psalm 19:14 May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer. I wanted to find a couple of verses about gossip, but my search yielded 49 verses . Wow. It looks like God has a lot to say about gossip.

This evening Tater again said that Little Man was being "a little p****." This time we realized that she was saying "prissy" and and not the other P word. Now, usually parents aren't too thrilled to hear their little boy described as being prissy, but in this case it is a relief. Tater isn't a potty mouth. She just can't say her R's.

I called our pediatrician to get Little Man's lab results. First of all, it took me about 20 minutes of non-stop calling to finally get a person. When I finally got the receptionist, she put me on hold for the nurse. I have been on hold for an hour now! In that time I have read Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel aloud, helped Tater do a writing worksheet, a reading worksheet, and write her name three times. I also responded to an email, took a third grade geography test and read two blogs. Oh man, I am still on hold. Do I hang up and lose my spot in line? Did they forget me? I have a kink in my neck from holding the phone with my shoulder. Answer, please!

It seems that I draw hurting people to me. That doesn't bother me. Maybe that is why I became a nurse. I enjoy helping people. I like influence them in a good way and to see them get better. Internalizing their problems is not fine, and that is what I do. I take their problems on and make them my own. I really want to fix them. It just kills me not to be able to make it all better. I think about them constantly. No, maybe obsess is a better word. I obsess about my friends' pain. Then their problems invade my sleep. I wake up frequently in the night and instantly think of them. I even dream about their problems. Boy do I get up tired after a night like that. Sometimes I even need to take a sleeping pill to get a good night's sleep. When I internalize others' issues it is hard to keep the black cloud of depression and anxiety away. The obsessive thoughts, restless nights, anxiety and depression have now been joined by stomach pain. That is a miserable cycle. I think about...

Today Tater and Little Man were playing in a huge pile of clean laundry. They were laughing and having fun. Then I heard it. What did she say? No, surely not. Yep. She was calling her little brother "P****." "Come here P****." "You're a little P****" I composed myself and calmly asked, "Tater, what did you call your brother?" "P****." "What does that mean?" "I don't know, I just made it up." "I see, but don't call him that anymore. It doesn't sound very nice." "Okay Mommy." I wonder if she heard that word on the playground this morning. Maybe she really did make it up. I am hoping the word doesn't pop up again at some inopportune time, like Sunday School.

Everybody knows about me. I really don't have many secrets. For the most part, I am an open book. I guess that is why It infuriates me to learn that some truth has been kept from me. I feel betrayed. I feel that I have a right to know. I feel lied to. Then I lose control and my words hurt the ones I love. "Why didn't you tell me?" "It hurts me that you kept this from me." "If you kept this from me, what else are you hiding?" "I don't know you." "Who are you?" Ugh! That's stupid! They finally confide in me and I put a guilt trip on them. Maybe I need to just expect secrets. Everybody has something to hide. Right? People keep secrets to protect themselves and the ones they love. I have to learn not to take it personally. It isn't about me. It is about keeping hurt, guilt, shame, and anger at bay. If any of you have shared a secret with me and I reacted badly, I am truly sorry. If any of you want to confide in me in the...

Some of you are going to freak out! Are you ready? Here it is. Tuesday was Tater's last day at preschool. We have decided to homeschool! The most common reaction to this news is the open mouth stare/gasp. So, I am assuming that you readers will have the same reaction. Resume breathing and close your mouth. This has not been a quick or easy decision to make. We have been praying about homeschooling for some time now. Last weekend I finally got peace about it, so we did it. Our city is a huge homeschooling community. We will have plenty of support. We are going to join a local support group and possibly a local co-op. I am looking to them for advise on curriculums, field trips... Ah, yes. What about socialization? Tater will still attend Sunday School, Kid's Church, ballet lessons, MOPS meetings, La Leche League meetings, birthday parties, and playdates. I am thinking about some sort of music class. I need to discuss that with yardboy $$$. This week has been fun. We worked on let...

It has always been difficult for me to talk about my relationship with God. I tend to get very self-conscious. I wonder if I am offending the listener. What if they don't believe? What if I embarass myself? I have to get over this, so here it is. I have been on my journey with Jesus since I asked him to be my savior at six years old. Sometimes the road was as smooth as silk. Other times it was it was very rough. I've had times when I sought God with all of my heart, and times when I all but denounced Him. I found that I was a miserable woman when I wasn't living for God. I know things may not always be great, but I also know that God can get me through anything life (or death) throws at me. I have to be a believer. I don't have a choice. Without God I am a pitiful excuse for a woman. Friday and Saturday I went to a women's conference at a local church. The praise and worship was amazing. The speakers delivered inspired messages. God did amazing things in me. Extrava...