Come on, I'm not THAT old....

I'm only 28... can this really be happening already??? Yesterday, while chasing Lightning down for beating up another child with a light-saber, something snapped in my back. My entire backside immediately stiffened and pain ran like a cheetah up and down my spine. I seriously lost my breath for a moment. The rest of the evening I did nothing. At all. I laid in the floor and moaned, wishing I had one of those medical alert bracelets so I could holler, "Help, I was spanking my child and I can't get up!" Bert was out doing yard work. I sent several kids out to tell him Mommy was hurt and to come quick, but he either didn't believe them, or by the time they got outside, they forgot why they were out and decided to play instead. Hopefully the latter.

So, on this beautiful Sunday, I am at home with two helpers by my side. Her Highness and Thunder got Lightning and Hail dressed for church. Bert teaches a class, so he needed to go. I am so thankful for crocks, other wise the boys would have been shoeless. I got tickled watching the older two take care of the younger ones. Hail obeyed their commands much quicker than he ever does my own. Thunder would say, "Come here, Babe. (not a name he usually uses, but under the "in charge" circumstances, I guess he found it fitting.) We need to get your hair brushed." Hail immediately came across the room, smiling. If it had been me, on a regular Sunday, that child would have run all across the house squealing, "No hair-brush! No hair-brush!" They finally got out the door.


Thunder, after Bert was gone, asked for something in a cabinet that is "up high." I explained, again, the reason he was home and I was stuck on the couch, and that he would have to wait until Daddy got back to get that. His response, "Momma, it's OKAY. You can just crawl, really- really slowly and get it. You don't even have to stand up!" All while demonstrating just how to crawl slowly without standing up. He even held one hand on his lower back. He finally gave up.

Later, Her Highness and Thunder brought me a delicious breakfast: a pack of pop-tarts and a box of Nilla Waffers. "Do you want a Capri-Sun too, Momma?" Having enough sugar in my lap, I dismissed them to go play. "I'll holler if I need anything else." While I was flipping back and forth between the local Baptist Church's Sunday televised service and Varsity Blues, Her Highness, who was still in her pajamas, came back to the living room.

"Hey, Momma. We're going to play House. Look at all our babies. We've got five! Just like you and Daddy."

Me: "Oh, that's sweet, Honey. How fun."

Her: "Yeah, and since I'm the Mommy, I need a skirt."

Me, not surprised because she refuses to wear pants and shorts most of the time, so all her play clothes are dresses or skorts: "Well, your clothes are in your dresser, Sweetie."

Her: "No, I want a Mommy skirt! Like a long skirt to be a grown-up. And do Mommy stuff in."

WHAT IN THE WORLD IS SHE TALKING ABOUT???? I live in jeans/sweats/t-shirts. What Mommy is she looking up to?? Sigh.

Me: "Sorry, I don't own any Mommy skirts, I guess. You could just play in one of your own and pretend."

Her: "That's fine. Mine are all prettier anyway."

Thanks, kiddo.

I tuned back into Varsity Blues. Why is nothing decent on the Sunday lineup? And, why in the world can cast agencies not just come to the south if they want actors with southern accents?? Does anyone really talk like that? Gag.

Hope your Sunday is more enjoyable than mine. Bert should be back soon with Lightning and Hail and a heating pad. Ahhh.

Princess Perks

Her Highness is gradually feeling better about being the only Pretty Princess to reign in our Land of Noise.

We have wonderful friends, who shall be referred to as the "Olds" (for their protection). They are such a fun bunch to be around. Recently, they invited us up to their lake house for the day. We had a blast. Bert stayed behind with Hail since some golf tournament was on that day, which was actually fine by me. Yes, three at the lake is still relaxing and a much needed break. Especially when Hail is not one of those three!

Dancing on the dock-- Boats passing by have actually stopped to watch these two "perform."

Of course, more of this never hurts when trying to feel better about a situation....

Her Highness and I were treated to a Girl's Night with "our" BFF Dixie. We had planned to have dinner, get pedicures then go for dessert. What we didn't plan was the following...

The Little Mermaid had done too much flipping in the pool and created a major dread-lock in the back of her hair. There was no way to get it out, except to cut it. Fortunately, she loved it! Afterwards, the three of us completed our much needed dinner/pedi/dessert run. Gotta love some Snow Biz! (Yes my face is already starting to swell. It will only get worse in the next 20 weeks, thanks for asking.)

Her Highness had one more item on her royal list of things to do...



She now has pierced ears!

This Pretty Princess is finally able to speak of her new brother without tears filling her eyes. She enjoys thinking up names for him. And, when we see newborns she gets excited and says, "Will our new brother be that small, really?"

A couple of days ago she said, "Momma, it's just not fair. Now I'll have to wait until I'm SEVEN before I get a baby sister." I spewed my coffee all over the couch.

Bert's response: "What's one more when you already have five? People already think we're crazy."

--Yes, and you five are the reason.

"Happy Fadda's Day! Not Mudda's Day Momma, just Fadda's Day."

Lightning has reminded me several times. He and Thunder quickly realized "father" sounds a lot like "fart-er" and have enjoyed singing "Happy Fart-ers Day to You" much of the afternoon. Boys.

So, on this "Fadda's" Day, I would like to dedicate the following to the man I love the most....

Yes, he is the one and only who makes my heart go pitter-pat. The one who knows exactly how I take my coffee. The one who gave me these nutty characters, my babies' Daddy:

The one I love more than anything in the whole world. And, since he doesn't care much for mushy love notes, I would like to simply say:

Babe, I love you. You are my rock.... And your sons are my hard place. But, there is not another place on the planet where I would rather be stuck.

Love, Holly

The BIG REVEAL...

We've been counting down the days until our "Big Reveal." We were super pumped when we learned our ultra-sound appointment was moved up to the 16th instead of the 24th.

Take a look at these and just guess what the card said....

Her Highness may need therapy for the next few months/years. She'll eventually adjust. We're just happy that HE is a healthy baby.

There were more "after" shots that I just don't have the heart to post. She sobbed, uncontrollably for quite a while. I thought having a big crowd around, along with an inflatable water slide and tons of cake and ice cream would help cushion the news.... Boy, was I wrong! (pun intended.)

We are so blessed to have another healthy child. I do ask that you start praying for me now. Another member to the Hudson Storm can only mean one thing... more times like these. We'll have to wait and see his personality before giving him a nick-name. We love our boys and we couldn't imagine life without them. I keep trying to remind Her Highness of that. Right now she doesn't want to be reminded. She just keeps poking her lip out and crying. She'll come around in time.... We hope.

We have an awful lot of fun around here. I guess GOD knew that Her Highness was all the princess we could handle! Again, we're just so thankful that he's healthy.

PS. Just FYI to my Mother & Allison: If you click on the stuff highlighted in blue, another post will pop up. Don't even act like you knew that either--- No you did not, so quit talking to the screen and saying "I already knew that." Love you two. Even if you are compooter dysfunctional.

Oh, and PPS. For those of you who are really behind on my blog posts, click here.

Dear Hudson Storm Guardian Angel

Please do not retire. I know my boys have already met their quota on times they could be rescued before the age of 18. I apologize for how many times you have used your super flight mode and swooped down out of the sky just in time to grab our Thunder as he was about to fall from the very top of all the trees he so loves to climb, and Lightning as he was just about to make it over the privacy fence and escape into the open neighborhood.

Thank-you for being there the time Lightning did actually escape, through the front door as we were completely unaware of his new dead-bolt unlocking skills at age 19 months, and had our retired neighbor just happen to walk by his window to see that precious 1 1/2 year old alone in the street. How embarrassing it was to have Mr. Stan ring our door bell and ask, "Are you missing one?" But how very relieved I was to have my baby back in my arms. Alive.

We are grateful for the times you forced Hail to spit out the plethora of strange objects that have gone into his mouth, just before choking to death. For the times you caused him to vomit after too much liquid dish detergent was ingested while I had my back turned, putting the groceries away. And for the time Hail ate the whole book of matches, we are appreciative that you nudged him to crawl in front of me, his chin bright red with flammable drool.

And again today, Dearest Guardian Angel, I thanked GOD for assigning you to our family. Your quick response to our children at the park while enjoying the beautiful weather and the company of our Friday Playgroup, could never be re-payed. Thunder had the bright idea to go into a storage shed in the batting cages, along with his trusty side-kick, Lightning, and their two best friends, and close the door behind them. The handle was broken off the door, and somehow it automatically locked all four children in the dark, extremely hot storage shed. How we heard their muffled cries for help was, I'm sure, your doing. The mothers I love so much were making me laugh very hard, as they always do with funny stories and jokes about our husbands, so for us to have heard their tiny voices, locked inside the building, was only part of your favor. Thank-you so much for keeping whatever bugs, spiders and bees that normally find this shed a humble abode, away from our wild children. Thank-you for getting Bert and a good friend who works for the City there very quickly to set our near heat stroked babies free. And then, for keeping their little faces less than one inch away from the metal door as it was busted down. I will never forget how their red-heads looked, drenched with sweat, and oh so happy to see their Momma. Then, not so happy to see their Daddy as he took them "behind the shed" to serve as a reminder of the danger in the bad decision they made.

And, we thank-you for the countless times we are unaware when you have stepped in and saved them, before harm came to them.

Dear GOD, thank-you for assigning such a fast acting and caring Guardian Angel to our family. Please give him a bonus this year. He probably never sleeps or gets to finish a meal without being paged about an incident concerning the Hudson Storm. Thank-you for protecting us and blessing us as You do.

Wan's Wisdom

Her Highness and I love getting pedicures. We only frequent the nail salon during the spring and summer months, so I don't feel too bratty about it all.

Recently, one of the male Vietnamese manicurist was working on my feet. It had rained for several days straight, and while Wan was scrubbing away the stress of cabin fever with the Hudson Storm, the sun suddenly appeared.

Me: "Ahhh! The SUN! Finally."

Wan: "What? You no like da rain?"

Me: "Well, I have three boys, behind her (motioning to Her Highness in the chair next to me) so being stuck inside with wild little guys is NO FUN. They're the type of boys who have to go outside everyday and run."

Wan: "Why dey can't goes even if it rains?"

Me: "Well, they can if it's just raining. But, lately it's been storming too much."

Wan: "So! What dat matta?"

Me: "They could get struck by lightning! And killed!"

Wan: "In Vietnam, it so hot dat even if it stormin' de kids all still go outdoors. No matta what. We no have dis air conditioning and tvs and stuff for entertainment of de kids. Besides, lightning only strike you if yous by a big building or big tree. Right?"

Me: "No, lightning can still strike, even if you're not by a big building." I say laughing.

Wan: "Okay, so if yous go outside and play, you might can get hit by dat lightning. If you stay insides, your Mama gonna kill yous for sure. So, I take my chances. I play in de storms no matta what. I still here. I fine. You send your boys outsides."

Wan earned a big tip that day for making me laugh so hard.

Dear Home-Birthing Kinda Moms

Please keep your strongly opinionated comments to yourself. No, not all doctors are money-hungry. You are wrong if you think hospitals are seen strictly as cash cows to all M.D.s. You are incorrect in your flaunting of the greedy attitude of every doctor on the planet and their selfish reasons for obtaining a medical degree. Contrary to what you may think, many doctors went to medical school because they felt a calling in this area. And it's the fact that they spent nearly 12 years post graduate that leads me to believe they just might know a little more than I do when it comes to health care and delivering babies. Yes, women have been delivering babies in their homes for hundreds and thousands of years before hospitals were created. However, the infant mortality rate, as well as the death rate of delivering mothers was also much higher than today.

Look, if you want to go on having babies in your bathtub, where you have to clean up all the carnage and goo from a delivery yourself, that's fine with me. However, what's not okay with me is how you feel the need the remind us constantly that the evil doctors are the reason we suffer during childbirth. No, darling, Eve is the reason we suffer during childbirth. The fact that Dr. Smith was busy closing up a c-section when Hail decided to make his grand entrance in a time that was Guinness World Record's worthy, does not upset me. The wonderful crew of nurses who delivered him did a great job, and Hail is now a healthy and vibrant 20 month old. How was Dr. Smith to know that when he checked my cervix at 2:00 and I was only at 5cm, that Hail would be born by 3:08?? Dr. Smith did what he needed to do, which was tend to another Mom whose baby was in distress. I'm thankful for that, and I'm sure the other mother is too.

Just do me this favor, HBM (Home-Birthing Mom) , when there are a group of us sitting around discussing our OBGYNs, pediatricians and family docs, please keep quiet. Or, if you feel you just must show us the "correct birthing position" vs a "doctor friendly birthing position" please at least ask do any of us care to see you turn backwards on the chair with your head down and your rear pointed towards us all. I do realize you have delivered 10 and now waiting for #11 to deliver naturally. Which, I guess to some, does give you a right to explain how to squirt a baby out quickly. But, being a mother who has delivered three naturally (with HUGE heads I might add) and planning to deliver my fourth with no drugs as well, I would like to say that each time I have used the "doctor friendly position" that you speak of so negatively. While you seem to toot your horn on being a "strong woman and not using drugs," I say, you are not a hero any more than those who use the drugs.

Side note here: Her Highness was delivered while I was enjoying the effects of an epidural. However, moments after her birth, I had a horrible reaction to the drugs and vomited for HOURS. I don't do well on meds, never have. The nurses would hand me our new, sweet baby girl, and as soon as I would get her in my arms, BOOM! Bert would grab the trash can and I would pass Her Highness back off before even getting comfortable with her. Hours later, as the drugs finally started to come out of my system, I quit throwing up and finally was able to see our first miracle. The nurse later explained that was a reaction to the epidural and I would probably always experience such side effects. Since I have quick labors, (average 6 hours) it has been my choice to stay away from it. But, for those who can tolerate the drugs, I say go for it!!! If it weren't for my reaction, I would have every single time. Back to my point...

You are not a super-hero Mom because you stay drug free. You also don't get brownie points for keeping the umbilical cord attached for a while longer to your new baby, saving the placenta to plant a tree in the yard, not getting your children vaccinated, and eating only organic. I will say, I don't know how in the world you are able to run a house with so many children and homeschool. I don't know how... or why. But it's here that I would like to make my point. You see, none of us "hospital-birthing moms" try and put you in your place during such conversations. We all smile, nod and go "Oh, okay." Because we are being polite and honestly don't care if you choose to go that route. Just quit trying to make us feel bad, cause here's the thing: WE DON'T CARE. The fact that you preach as though you think we are the insane ones makes your information even harder to accept. Try taking a more laid-back approach to such topics.

Much Obliged,
Holly Hudson -H.D.A.;B.F.M.D.;M.F.A.F.H.H.C.W.

(In case you're unaware of the degrees I specialize in, those stand for: Hospital-Delivery Advocate; Best Friend of an M.D.; Mother of Four Almost Five Healthy Happy Children Who Come into Contact with all types of Doctors for all types of reasons.)

PS. If you are a HBM and you don't reflect this attitude onto innocent bystanders, obviously this letter is not intended for you, so don't reply with hate mail. Thanks so much.

Funny or Sad?

-We keep a box of baby wipes on the counter next to the toilet-- well, for obvious reasons. Every time Her Highness needs to go, she first grabs a wipe out of the box and then wipes the entire seat. She does this even when the seat appears clean. Funny or sad that living with four males has taught a five year old girl this lesson already?

-Several times a day, Lightning will walk to me with a sippy cup and say in his husky little voice, "Momma, dis is ode (old) or fresh?" He's not yet three years old and knows he should probably ask before taking a drink. Funny? Ridiculously sad? Both?

-A couple of times a week I will have to wash the same load of clothes twice because I forget to put it in the dryer before going to bed. I hate the smell of musty clothes. Earlier this week, I washed the same load THREE times before remembering to put it in the dryer. I don't even have to ask... this is just plain SAD.

-Thunder has several imaginary best friends that are a major part of our family. We hear all kinds of fun and crazy stories about these characters. Funny or sad that many of the stories are about their Moms dying tragic deaths? We also hear about their Moms going to jail for various reasons... I'm getting a little worried.

-Funny or sad that these two are the reason I spend most nights on the couch?

Last one, funny or sad... The back of my van is always filled with totally random items: Her Highness' dance costumes/t-ball gear/groceries/toys/old french fries/lawn chairs/leashes for the boys/coloring books/melted crayons....