You will be fine. I myself waited to have the kid before running. Now I realize I should have run sooner and faster. Because you can do it on your own. I am sure your family and friends will be there for you and that it all that matters at this point.

My son's father started beating the crap out of him at a very young age. He finally told his daycare teacher at age three and hasn't seen him since. I knew something was going on when he started having "night terrors" at age 2, and freaked out at the store when I tried to buy a belt for him. But according to my lawyer I couldn't do anything till he talked to someone and we got more proof. still doesn't talk about it, to me at least. But has no interest in his dad or his dad's family. They are all crazy! Most kids love their grandma's. He used to call her that mean old fat lady at my dad's house. Goes to show you should get to know someone before getting knocked up! Learned my lesson!

ask me how I got so fat. that is usually the end result of my cooking. not to mention the fire tonight!

ok so I am learning to cook. I have maybe a handful of things my son will actually eat. does anyone have any simple recipes I could try.

I got some good ones.

Yo mama so fat when she rides in a hot air balloon, it looks like she's wearin tights!

Yo mama so fat her neck looks like a pair of hot dogs

Yo mama so stupid it took her 2 hours to watch 60 minutes

Yo mama so poor when she goes to KFC, she has to lick other people's fingers

Yo mama so hairy you almost died of rugburn at birth

right! I would gladly give some away if I could.

HA!

I don't think spanking is the problem. It is when people take things too far. I have spanked my son. He is six and now we take things away that are important to him. I have seen what spanking can lead to, but to normal people it usually doesn't go any further. I am not sure where social services draws the line, but when you call and report someone who has punched their own daughter in the face so hard and knocked her out cold. You would think something would be done. But alas not till she is brain dead will they ever do anything. That is what is wrong with the world. Most can not get away with any discipline while the ones who are actually hurting their children are ignored.

OMG! I don't think i've even spent $50 on an article of clothing. Better things to spend money on.that's crazy! maybe I am just cheap but I always look for sales, never buy anything that is not on sale.

My night began as any other normal weeknight. Come home, fix dinner, play with the kids. I then had the thought that would ring painfully in my mind for the next few hours: "Maybe should pull the waxing kit out of the medicine cabinet."

So I headed to the site of my demise: the bathroom. It was one of those "cold wax" kits. No melting a clump of hot wax, you just rub the strips together in your hand, they get warm and you peel them apart and press them to your leg (or wherever else) and you pull the hair right off.

No muss, no fuss. How hard can it be? I mean, I'm not a genius, but I am mechanically inclined enough to figure this out. (YA THINK!?!)

So I pull one of the thin strips out. Its two strips facing each other stuck together. Instead of rubbing them together, my genius kicks in so I get out the hair dryer and heat it to 1000 degrees. ("Cold wax,"yeah...right!) I lay the strip across my thigh. Hold the skin around it tight and pull. It works!

OK, so it wasn't the best feeling, but it wasn't too bad. I can do this!

Hair removal no longer eludes me! I am She-rah, fighter of all wayward body hair and maker of smooth skin extraordinaire.

With my next wax strip I move north. After checking on the kids, I sneak back into the bathroom, for the ultimate hair fighting championship. I drop my panties and place one foot on the toilet. Using the same procedure, I apply the wax strip across the right side of my bikini line, covering the right half of my hoo-ha and stretching down to the inside of my butt cheek (it was a long strip) I inhale deeply and brace myself....RRRRIIIPPP!!!!

I'm blind!!! Blinded from pain!!!!....OH MY GAWD!!!!!!!!!

Vision returning, I notice that I've only managed to pull off half the strip. CRAP! Another deep breath and RIPP! Everything is spinning and spotted. I think I may pass out...must stay conscious...must stay conscious.

Do I hear crashing drums??? Breathe, breathe...OK, back to normal.

I want to see my trophy - a wax covered strip, the one that has caused me so much pain, with my hairy pelt sticking to it. I want to revel in the glory that is my triumph over body hair. I hold up the strip!

There's no hair on it.

Where is the hair??? WHERE IS THE WAX???

Slowly I ease my head down, foot still perched on the toilet. I see the hair. The hair that should be on the strip...it's not! I touch. I am touching wax. I run my fingers over the most sensitive part of my body, which is now covered in cold wax and matted hair. Then I make the next BIG mistake...remember my foot is still propped upon the toilet? I know I need to do something. So I put my foot down.

Sealed shut! My butt is sealed shut. Sealed shut!

I penguin walk around the bathroom trying to figure out what to do and think to myself "Please don't let me get the urge to poop. My head may pop off!"

What can I do to melt the wax?

Hot water!! Hot water melts wax!! I'll run the hottest water I can stand into the bathtub, get in, immerse the wax-covered bits and the wax should melt and I can gently wipe it off, right???

*WRONG!!!!!!!*

I get in the tub - the water is slightly hotter than that used to torture prisoners of war or sterilize surgical equipment - I sit.

Now, the only thing worse than having your nether regions glued together, is having them glued together and then glued to the bottom of the tub...in scalding hot water.

Which, by the way, doesn't melt cold wax.

So, now I'm stuck to the bottom of the tub as though I had cemented myself to the porcelain!! God bless the man who had convinced me a few months ago to have a phone put in the bathroom!!!!!

I call my friend, thinking surely she has waxed before and has some secret of how to get me undone. It's a very good conversation starter "So, my butt and hoo-ha are glued together to the bottom of the tub!"

There is a slight pause. She doesn't know any secret tricks for removal it she does try to hide her laughter from me. She wants to know exactly where the wax is located, "Are we talking cheeks or hole or hoo-ha?"

She's laughing out loud by now...I can hear her. I give her the rundown and she suggests I call the number on the side of the box.

YEAH!!!!! Right!! I should be the joke of someone else's night. While we go through various solutions.

I resort to trying to scrape the wax off with a razor. Nothing feels better than to have your girlie goodies covered in hot wax, glued shut, stuck to the tub in super hot water and then dry-shaving the sticky wax off!!

By now the brain is not working, dignity has taken a major hike and I'm pretty sure I'm going to need Post-Traumatic Stress counseling for this event.

My friend is still talking with me when I finally see my saving grace....the lotion they give you to remove the excess wax. What do I really have to lose at this point? I rub some on and OH MY GOD!!!!!!!

The scream probably woke the kids and scared the **** out of my friend.

Its sooo painful, but I really don't care. "IT WORKS!! It works !!" I get a hearty congratulation from my friend and she hangs up.

I successfully remove the remainder of the wax and then notice to my grief and despair....THE HAIR IS STILL THERE.......ALL OF IT!

So I recklessly shave it off. Heck, I'm numb by now. Nothing hurts. I could have amputated my own leg at this point.

Next week I'm going to try hair color......

.. Ahhhhh ... The joys of having girls ...
My mother taught me to read when I was four years old (her first mistake).
One day, I was in the bathroom and noticed one of the cabinet doors was ajar. I read the box in the cabinet. I then asked my mother why she was keeping ''napkins' in the bathroom. Didn't they belong in the kitchen?

Not wanting to burden me with unnecessary facts, she told me that those were for 'special occasions' (her second mistake).

Now fast forward a few months....It's Thanksgiving Day, and my folks are leaving to pick up my uncle and his wife for dinner. Mom had assignments for all of us while they were gone. Mine was to set the table.

When they returned, my uncle came in first and immediately burst into laughter. Next came his wife who gasped, then began giggling. Next came my father, who roared with laughter. Then came Mom, who almost died of embarrassment when she saw each place setting on the table wit h a 'special occasion' Kotex napkin at each plate, with the fork carefully arranged on top. I had even tucked the little tail in so they didn't hang off the edge!!

My mother asked me why I used these and, of course, my response sent the other adults into further fits of laughter.

'But, Mom, you said they were for special occasions!!!'

Pass this on to your girlfriends who need a good laugh or anyone who has a daughter!

Life is too short for drama & petty things, so kiss slowly, laugh insanely, love truly and forgive quickly....and for heavens sake, use the good napkins whenever you can!

first I would put most away for I am addicted to shopping. buy a nice lake house and move up north. it would give me a chance to work when and where I want. Maybe open a specialty store up there. ahh to be set for the rest of my life..what an idea.

I have to say that the last 3 years of my son's schooling has been hell. A nightmare for him and myself. I am fortunate to have a doctor who has tried along with me, everything and anything to not put my son on medication. Then this year it became clear that he would not move on to 2nd grade unless something was done. so now he has been on medication for 4 months. he is reading better can sit and listen to his teacher, and do his school work. OH, and guess what he is still my little boy. he hasn't changed, and he is not a ZOMBIE.

I am with you. It is hard. I had a neighbor call the police on me because I yelled at my kid and he screamed. They had to come into my house and check my son's body over to make sure I wasn't beating him. A smack on the butt, come on. Everyone tells us to controll our kids, but we can't disipline in any way with out social services getting involved. What about people who are actually beating on their kids. I know someone who has actually knocked her kid out cold. Yeah I called as soon as she bragged about it. was anyhting done? NO! WTF!

I tend to get depressed when I find I can't afford to give my son what he has asked santa for. It is a joy christmas morning when he is just excited to have presents from santa.

OMG! my bail is $665 lol guess I am not a good girl

The worst day for me was when I got a phone calll at work to inform me that my son confided in his teacher that his dad was hitting him hard. He had just turned 3 and to this day I still can't understand what a child of that age can do to deserve that.

you hit the nail on the head with that one. After working a 6 day week and running around to all my sons practices and competitions, I don't need a wasted night with another looser, just get the girls together and actually have fun. we don't get out much so make the most of it!