The Talk

I never pictured myself having “the talk” with my kids in the middle of a crowded restaurant on a random Friday night.  Moreover, I didn’t expect to be having “the talk” with them when they were 7 & 8 years old.  But there I was… 

Our food had arrived and we had just finished a separate, but almost as delightful, conversation about one of my tattoos.  I have two.  One is small and fairly discreetly placed on my inner foot.  The location of the other is a topic of debate among my kids on this particular evening.  Katelyn says it’s a tattoo on my butt that I will have to live with when I’m old.  Hunter – always one to defend his momma – corrects her and tells her it’s actually right above my butt.  Either way, it’s a ‘tramp stamp’ and one day soon I’ll have to explain to them that (I swear) they weren’t yet called that when I got it.  *sigh*

The table is quiet for a few moments while we all eat a few bites and then Hunter – never one to allow there to be a dull moment in life – announces “Hey mommy, one time I saw _____’s parent’s doing it.”    I’m not going to use names in order to protect the guilty parties.  J   I was stunned for a second, as I often am by my son, and I finally asked “doing what?”.  “Doing IT.  You know.  IT.”  Katelyn chimes in, “Yeah.  How babies are made.”   I know I should have left well enough alone but I called their bluff and said I didn’t know what they were talking about.  Hunter continues.  “Well, they didn’t have clothes on and…”  I cut him off.  I feel sure my face is bright red.  I don’t need to know anymore.  Paul can’t control himself or his inappropriate laughter.  Katelyn takes over and, complete with sound effects, says “hehe, yeah… babies are made when moms and dads don’t have clothes on and they make the bed go like this…” as she slaps her hand against the table.  Ahhhhhhhh!  What???  (okay, I admit that the sound effects made me laugh just a little and it was brief).  I nonchalantly ask how they know so much about “it” to which they both reply “the bus”.  The bus is a wonderful, magical place.  My kids learn so much there.  Previously, Hunter had also explained to me that he knows babies start out as “seeds” carried around by the dad – although he put it in less uncertain terms. 

I manage to close my mouth (which, by this point, is hanging open), clear my throat and tell the kids to eat their dinner so we can go to the store.  I quickly send a text to my ex-husband explaining to him that our kids need to be home schooled and then I reach to pick up my fork.  Silly me, I thought the worst was over.  A mischievous smile crosses Katelyn’s face and she says “I know Averi didn’t come out of your belly button, either.”  But faster than I could even make my vocal cords react enough to stop her, Hunter had asked her to explain and she had leaned over… whispered into his ear… giggled… and then he actually, literally gagged on his food…   

It’s a laugh a minute, folks.  Every. Single. Day.

Day One.

Well...  I decided to rejoin the blog world.  It's been a while.  I think the last time I blogged was early 2010.  If you're interested in reading my older, funny anecdotes about my oldest children you can still find that blog here:  http://imnotyourfriendanymore.blogspot.com  but...  you should know that SO much has changed about my life since then, I felt like I needed a brand new blog.  I feel sure that everyone who will be reading this - at least at first - already knows me but just in case, I guess I'll make this first entry an introduction of sorts for those who may not know me (and a whole plethora of useless information for those who do or are just being nosy.)  :)

I'm Amanda.  I'm almost, but not quite, 30 and I'm a mother of three.  If you're curious about the "Babies and Bedpans" URL, it is a nod to the fact that I am #1, a mom and #2, a long term care nurse and those things define me.  Having just had my youngest child a little over 5 weeks ago, I consider myself to be a new mom all over again. She's almost like a foreign creature to me but I'm getting back into the swing of things.  My oldest child is 8 years old and she's a little firecracker.  Boy crazy and sharp tongued, very intelligent and confident...  she reminds me of me when I was about 15.  My middle child is 7 and he's amazing.  He's hilarious.  Many of the stories you will find in my old blog and, I'm sure, many of the ones you will find on here will be about him and the clever things he comes up with.  He's one of those kids you can't be mad at because you just have to laugh. 

Another thing some may notice if you read my old blog is that I was married then and lived in Louisville.  Since I posted my last entry there, I am divorced and I live back in my hometown.  My ex-husband and I get along better now (well, most of the time) than we did when we were together and my boyfriend and I live about 5 miles from he and his girlfriend.  It has all worked out well.  On October 10th, my boyfriend and I welcomed a daughter.  She's...  a baby.  I can't really tell much about her personality, yet.  I'm sure she'll be just as colorful and entertaining as my other two, though.  I have a feeling she will provide me with many new, humorous toddler adventures to write about.

So that's my family.  Myself...  I am a temperamental redhead.  I come from a long line of them.  My chosen career is being a nurse working with the elderly population.  I love it.  I think Alzheimer's disease is among the saddest that occurs with age, but almost nothing can light up my whole day like one of my residents.  The meaner they are, the more I love them.  It's what I was put on Earth to do.  I really enjoy a good margarita.  I love to go school supply shopping every summer with my kids.  There's nothing like filling a backpack with fresh ink pens/pencils and highlighters.  I pretend to be a scrapbooker.  I have tons of supplies.  I have good intentions.  I've scrapbooked my way from my oldest child's birth to her fourth birthday and then ran out of steam.  I'll probably catch up by the time they're all 20.  I have a bad mouth.  I know it's not classy and I'm not proud, but sometimes nothing gets your point across like a "bad" word.  I'm not religious.  I don't claim to be a perfect mother but I know I'm a damn good one, despite my flaws.   There's a decent chance I might offend you at some point in my posts, so I'm sorry in advance if I do. 

I think that'll do for now.  The main thing is that I love the man I'm engaged to (and I'm mean as hell to him, but he loves me) and I adore my babies!  Everything I post will be about them in some way and I'll make it as humorous and entertaining as I can.  Promise.  :)