Ask Humble Anything: Questions about Humble 1.0

It is that time again! Kids are back in school which means I have time to devote to Ask Humble Anything... AHA is a weekly feature that I had originally  started on my Facebook page, where people could ask me any sort of question (relationship/shit advice, general life questions, parenting advice, more info about myself, and basically giving my opinion on anything) and I would answer it in an honest fashion, to the best of my abilities, and invite others to comment and so forth. Since my page is bigger now, and Facebook is Facebook and won't let my posts be as visible as I would like, I am changing it up and answering questions here on my blog. You are still invited to comment with your opinions (which I moderate because I am wary of asshole trolls) and as always, everything is confidential.
Also please recognize that these are my opinions and I am not an expert on anything, but if I googilize and find answers elsewhere I will let you know where I got the info from. Other than that, I cannot be held responsible for damaging your self esteem, relationships, children or crotches. Be smart and think for yourself, and take every opinion you see with a grain of salt because frankly, "Bitch, I don't know yo life!"

Questions about Humble

The first few questions I received were about me. People always want to know more, which I understand because people may not be all up on Facebook every single day and may miss minor details so how fucking happy am I to have these questions answered once and for all on my blog?
Yea right.
Someone will ask me these things again which I am now a-ok with because I have this here post to direct them to.

Dear Humble,
You have 5 kids and you are 27... is there twins somewhere in the family?
Are you Mormon or Catholic? Why do you not use birth control? Are you planning on having more?

Sincerely, Nosy Ass but Very Nice Humblers

Dear Nosy Ass Humblers,
My kids are mentioned on my page and my blog frequently, I do not use their real names because I don't even use my real name. I am not a character writer by any means, but I wanted to keep some things private.
Anywho... Eldest (girl) is 11 almost 12, Sprite (girl) is 9 almost 10, Han (boy) is 7, Moo (girl) is 5, and Jedi (boy) is 1. So in saying that, nope, no twins. I really did have them all one at a time. I am not Mormon, Catholic, Christian, or anything. I do use birth control. And I am also pro choice. Which means I had my kids not just because I happened to get pregnant. But because I wanted them in my life, I am of sound mind, am generally healthy, and also enjoy the challenge of being a parent to many. I gave birth to them with the intention of being the best parent I could possibly be for them, and am super fucking happy the choice to have them, was mine.
I also am not planning on having more. All my pregnancies were very easy, the baby having part went as planned every single time, and I generally enjoyed being pregnant. Except for the last one, Jedi was born at 25 weeks with a multitude of problems leading up to having him and we both almost died. This is not a gamble I would ever take again, and even though I wish I was able to have and care for more kids, my uterus is a bitch and there is nothing I can do about it.

Love, Humble

Dear Humble,
How the fuck you have time to post so much shit?
Sincerely, Da Fuq? Humbler

Dear Da Fuq,
I have no idea actually. I just get on my phone whenever I know what I am going to say and text it out and hit "post" and get on with my day. It usually takes me 3 or 4 minutes to post something. Also when I do write a blog, like this, I have to tell everyone to just not bother me for 20 minutes. I often have to go back to my work and finish it later. One thing I really can't stay on top of, is everyones cool shit that they are doing. So many blog friends and not enough time to read them! Moderating comments on my page is a bit of a headache at times, but lately I have been trusting that everyone is cool and if anything assholish pops up, someone will alert me.
But in a nutshell, I post from my phone as quickly as possible because I got shit to do.
Love, Humble

Dear Humble,
I recently found out I am pregnant and I am so happy. I have children from a previous relationship and this will be mine and my husbands second child together. All of my kids are cared for, they are all wonderful, and I love being a mom. But the remarks I get already about our large family, really bring me down. I am having panic attacks from having to tell people soon, that I am having another baby. Do you get rude remarks too? I have a pretty thick skin, but sometimes it really gets to me. How do you deal with it?
Sincerely,
Loving Mama of Many Humbler

Dear Loving Mama,
First of all, CONGRATULATIONS. A baby, whether it be your first, or your 10th, is a whole new exciting venture in your life, and it is hands down THE most romantic shit EVER. Why? Because 2 people loving each other and that love turning into a human being is fucking magical. That's why. I am really glad you asked this. Yes, I do get rude comments. Also, I get the comments where people are thinking of themselves and figure since they can't handle their one child, that you must be the same way and are deluding yourself into thinking there is more than one way to live. I have had people tell me "you need another kid like you need a bullet in your head" to which I just ignore, because I have shit to do and people to please and they aren't one of them. When I got pregnant with Jedi, I knew I could possibly hear the worst responses ever. After you have 4 kids, you pretty much open the gates of fury from the most previously "nice" people ever. And so I just expected it. People gonna run their mouths regardless, BUT I don't want to hear it or see it. I mean, talk shit about my slutty ways and my disregard for your opinions on my life, behind my back like a normal asshole. Don't get all up in my face with it, or I will tell YOU something you don't want to hear, like how apparently the  reverse cowgirl is THE position to try if you want to grow a baby with a penis. (I just made that up...but you get the point) Anywho. My advice is when you tell people, be fucking excited about it. Decent people won't shoot down your excitement with facts about how your family is killing polar bears on account of your larger than average toilet paper use. All these little thoughts about your big ass family and how great it is and how happy your kids are? Don't keep them to yourself. Mean people feed on weakness and lack of confidence. I will be the first person to tell someone how much I love having all my kids sitting in a row on the couch, taking turns reading to each other. How when I set up for breakfast, there are no empty chairs. And how much I love that every night. EVERY SINGLE NIGHT. I kiss 5 faces. FIVE. And tell them each how much I love them, and that I want to be the first to kiss them in the morning, and they tell me how much they love me, and how they will think of me when they are sleeping and all this other cute shit. Sometimes I honestly can't believe how fucking cool my life is. How lucky am I?! How lucky are you!? SO FUCKING LUCKY.
And frankly, if people can't accept your happiness, they aren't nice people, and you have too many kids to be dealing with that bullshit.

Congratulations!!
Love, Humble

What Humble Did: Episode 2

 Since Facebook is being Facebook and I am like the Nell of technology and can't figure out what the hell the problem is and why my posts keep disappearing, I am going to just write this big ass post.

Why haven't I been as attentive on Facebook?
Life, people. LIFE. Real life things are happening.
And frankly there aren't enough Mr. Rogers cardigans in the world that can weather these situations. (FYI: I wear cardigans like how people wear work uniforms, you know, to put them in the mood for selling shit and being the boss of people)
So what big bad real life shit is happening? Let us do a breakdown.

Monday:
Sprite started 4th grade, Han started 2nd. Everything went as planned, including the fact that I woke up at 6:30. OMG.
I thought I was in the clear with not getting back to school supplies, since what I had seen before was just a mediocre "Donation Wish List" Which to me, means, "Shit you can get later, when you feel like it." But NO. Sprite's class has this asinine list of shit to get, and being the good mother that I am, not wanting her to look like she has a bad mother or anything, I thought, "Oh I can just pick up this crap on the way home"

On the way home, turned into 3 different stores and me pulling my hair out for not being able to find a 3 pack of Avery glue sticks. Does the teacher own stock in Avery? Because everything was Avery versus, you know just a list of "3 glue sticks" "binder 1 1/2 inches" "thin tip dry erase markers"
No, that would be too fucking easy.
The child got sent to school with a 4 pack of Elmer's glue sticks, because this is America and we use Elmer's, so suck it.
Also on Monday, I got sucked into signing up Moo for KINDERGARTEN. The real kind. It is private, and somewhat affordable since her dad and I are going halfsies, and I can sell my ovaries to the highest bidder. I hear that it would send me into Menopause, but hot flashes and whiskers are a cool trade for having Moo go do stuff that doesn't require neighing like a horse every day for 4 hours.

Tuesday:
Oh this day was bunk.
Had a doctor appt for Jedi and it turns out his insurance didn't actually switch his doctor and the insurance card they gave us was totally bogus because someone decided to not do their job and like not send us a card with that doctor's info until they actually switched the freaking doctor.

Also Moo had 4 shots, I told you this Kindergarten shit was real.

Wednesday:

Stayed home in my pajamas, and basically drank coffee for 12 hours.
Waking up at 6:30 is kicking my ass.

Thursday:

3 kids dentist appointments. 2 of which had to be sedated. NO EATING AFTER 8 A.M.
Which meant I picked them up from school before lunch, confiscated a sandwich, a waffle, and a bowl of ice cream before I just gave up and said get in the car. On the way there, we got a flat tire. It was scary as fuck, with 5 kids in the car and being the adult that I am, I screamed. Eldest said my triple chinned face that was created by said screams should be on the back of milk cartons if kidnappers ever steal me.

We missed the appointment and everyone ate Taco Bell at my moms house while my dad worked his dad magic and put on a new tire.
I took a coma nap and woke up thinking we were late to school.
Friday:

By now I would be drinking Mike's Hard Lemonade for breakfast, but since on account of me drinking them all during the week, I am shit out of luck and take shots of coffee. I briefly consider snorting some pixie stix to give me more oomph, but change my mind when I remember that I am my children's model of what an adult is supposed to be, and should one of them go to jail and be released and turn into a rapper, their mom snorting candy off her kitchen counter would definitely make it to the lyrics, and I just can't be Eminem's mom. Fuck.

I went to 2 places to get more shit for Moo's Kindergarten registration, and also took the kids to their school's Ice Cream Social, where I got to bitch with other parent's about how insanely tired we all were until Moo pissed her pants, and I decided it was time to drop them off at their dad's.

The End.

Here is what you need to know that is happening.

This is one of those things I tried to post but since Facebook was being Facebook, I am sharing it again.
Read more at Mary Tyler Mom
You will find the link to Donna's Cancer Story there, and also get to know and behold the wonderful Sheila, who is Donna's Superhero mama.

Self Worth Action Project
This is a project by my friend at Craughing
It is an awesome idea. What are you putting in your "self worth" bank? How important to you are you? (sounds like something from Dr. Seuss therefore you know it's good)

Also this week,


This happened.
Ezra's first meme.

Humble and Hopeful: Hope 2012: A Blog Relay

This past week my son was in the hospital and although it was a scary as shit situation (asthma attacking lead to my panic attacking) I got a heavy dose of humble along the way.
In fact, when Klonnie at The Klonopin Chronicles asked me if I could write a little somethin somethin about hope, I already knew exactly what to write about because the experience I had this past week was so transformative and powerful that it begs to be shared. I actually wasn't sure how I would go about sharing this on my blog, but now I know. In her words this is definitely a hand to God moment.


On the morning of Jedi's release I went outside to relax and drink some coffee while he was asleep, if you have ever had the misfortune of having a child in the hospital, you know these little breaks are what is keeping you from losing your shit, and before I sat on the only bench that had a decent amount of shade, I saw a man already sitting there, talking on the phone. I was hesitant to sit down, because I didn't want him to feel like I was eavesdropping but before I could even turn around he put his hand over the speaker and said, "Hello and good morning! Please sit here..." and switched to the sunnier side of the bench, allowing me to sit in the shade.

When he got off the phone, he immediately asked how I was doing, talked about the heat, where he lives, and general small talk. He seemed so upbeat, he listened intently as I responded, and I got the feeling that he just really loved talking to people. I assumed because of his age (I guessed 60's) that he was here visiting a grandchild. He asked me if I had a child here, and I told him a little about my son, his asthma attack and how I might even be going home that day. There was a silence, so I asked him if he had been here long, and he said his daughter had just been admitted last night. He explained that she had cystic fibrosis, she is 15, and she looks nothing like him because they are not actually related. He joked, "Can you imagine me, a 75 year old Asian man raising a 15 year old blonde hair, blue eyed girl? Oh the stares we get!"


My heart jumped in my chest.
This 75 year old man is raising a child....and she is sick?! Am I in that show Touched by an Angel? Are cameras going to come out and people start asking me to sign papers to release this footage? Not that there would be much footage...from then on in the conversation I was stunned silent and continued to listen to his story...

Her parents were drug addicts and couldn't take care of her. No foster parents would handle the hard work that comes with taking care of a baby with Cystic Fibrosis, and he heard about her from his daughter, who worked in social services and had been heartbroken about not being able to find a home for the baby before she was released from the hospital. He said he would take her. He took parenting classes, went through many background checks, and when she was about 6 months old, she became his daughter.

"But, when I met her," he said, "I already knew she was mine"

Cue every single natural wonder I have never even seen with my own eyes.
The Aurora Borealis looks like some crappy special effects compared to the magnitude of what I was being told.

He said he didn't care that she would always be sick, and that he would do whatever it took, to give her a life well lived. I told him the only English I could remember at this point, that she was so incredibly blessed to have him in her life.

He immediately started laughing, and said "Yep, some people say that, and I laugh, little do they know, she saved me. And you want to know a secret?....I don't mind doing all this for her, you know...the expensive birthday parties, the constant hospital trips, being a parent when I am already an old man....but her days are numbered.. I only hope that she knows how much I love her. And then you know...it will be okay for us both to leave this world"


This is not what I expected when I came and sat on this bench. In fact, my plan was to sit and maybe feel sorry for myself for a bit.

And then he did, what a man in his position could only do if he were indeed the most loving and kind human on the planet, he comforted me. He said he was very sorry my baby had been suffering, and that he hoped I was finding the strength I needed to deal with the situation. It was very hard for me to choke back some tears and tell him that yes, I indeed had found my strength.


Now, according to the sweet lady at Abandoning Pretense, I'm supposed to tag other blogs to challenge them to write a blog post about hope and then tag other bloggers to do the same. I'm reluctant to do this because most of the bloggers I know are already challenged enough. Here are the instructions, which I hate, because I love instructions, but no one else ever follows them and it pisses me off.

Step 1: Write a blog post about hope & publish it on your blog.
Step 2: Invite one (or more!) bloggers to do the same. Step 3: Link to the person who recruited you (me, in this case) at the top of the post, and the people you're recruiting at the bottom of the post.

Melanie Crutchfield will be holding "Closing Ceremonies" around August 10 and will gather up little snippets from people that wrote about hope, so make sure you link back to her as the originator of the relay

Now I call on:What I Had REALLY Meant to Say

The Mother Freakin' Princess

andRunning From Hell With El



Happy Birthday to The Moo

Today is my daughter's birthday.
She is the 4th child, the 3rd daughter, and it is her 5th birthday.
It is so hard for me to say that. Why? Because I pretty much have ignored all her birthdays and told myself it didn't matter how old she was, she was still the baby. She is a big sister now, and she can make herself a (disgusting) sandwich (mayo, pickles, peanut butter, cheese, anyone?) and I guess I have deluded myself for long enough. She is really 5. Shit is getting real as I type.


My pregnancy with her was pretty easy, other than getting fat and miserable ,the hitch was I had a previous c section so my major point of stress was if I would have a normal enough pregnancy that I could have her the Ina May Gaskin way.

Since everything was fine, I had no problem getting the birth that I wanted.. except for the part where I labored for a week, went from a 6 to a 10cm over the course of 3 days, and stayed at a 10 for 3 hours before I suggested putting some pancakes near my cooter and maybe the promise of food would lure her out. Much like they do with salt and tapeworms.

Eventually, she "got born" and soon after I realized she was different than the babies I had previously materialized. For one thing, I had to actually swaddle. I had done this once or twice with the other kids, but never really had to. She was crying enough that the nurses came in and asked if it was my first child. Then the nurse wrapped her like a burrito, and gave me a "duh you dumbshit" look and handed her back to me. I figured maybe she had birth trauma or something and would eventually grow accustomed to my constant love and attention and would not have need or desire to voice such crazy demands as if I were ignoring her or something.Months after her birth I realized that the whole birth trauma excuse was bullshit and she is just how she is (see also:demanding, mood swings, bossy as fuck, and gloriously wonderful) and even now, 5 years later, we are quite aware of her presence, her wants, her needs, her opinions, her dreams, her capabilities and every song she has ever liked because she sings things repeatedly.
She is just one of those people that knows what they want, and everyone else has to either know also what she wants, or stand the hell out of the way. I have no idea where she gets it from. (wink wink)

Happy 5th Birthday to Mina Naomi (a.k.a Moo)

Then...

Now...