The Three Very Cute Reasons I Might Never Reproduce

Let me start off by saying that Myles, Brandon, and Dillan are the sweetest little boys on the planet. I love them dearly. But they are extremely loud. However, Dillan is the most quiet. In fact, he almost never makes noise. He sleeps a lot. Sleep. Poop. Cry. A never ending cycle. But for the most part, he sleeps. I want a kid that does stuff... My fish all died because they weren't interesting enough for me to take care of. My sister still refers to me as the 'FK'. FK stands for 'Fish Killer. Wouldn't want my kid to suffer the same fate! This is a picture of Dillan sleeping in his carseat on the way to the mall:

Brandon, who recently turned two, is my favorite little Tanksley. He's such a sweetheart. Don't get me wrong, he's loud and rambunctious, but just when you're about to explode, Brandon always does the cutest thing. It's sad really. I think he know's that he's cute and uses it to his advantage. He has the funniest little smile and the most mischievious little eyes. He also has the sweetest spirit. He's gonna be the heartbreaker!

And then there's Myles. Myles is five. Myles is loud. Myles is rude. Myles is sassy. He is also a cutie. However, he gets away with a helluva lot less than Brandon does. I feel bad for the poor kid but after a certain age certain stuff just isn't cute/funny anymore. It's actually quite annoying. Provoking even. But I try to keep in mind that all he wants is attention. If I was an only child for three years and then all of a sudden two other attention suckers came along, I'd be pretty obnoxcious too. Poor Myles.

Today was crazy. I didn't go to church this morning simply because I didn't feel like getting out of bed. But then my sister called me and asked if I wanted to go to the mall with Kim, Miss DIana, her and the boys and I decided that it would be better than staying home to count the hours until I saw my sweatheart again. So I got out of bed, took a shower, and got dressed. The half-hour long car ride to the mall wasn't too bad. Dillan and Brandon were sleeping and so Myles was pretty much content. Most of the attention was on him.

By the time we got to the mall, all three boys were awake but Dillan and Brandon were still in that half-sleeping state and were, therefor, extremely quiet. We made our way to the food court and then the noise began. But it was cute noise. Brandon was sorta yelling as he offered me his spitty fries. Gross, but nice gesture so I ate one and refused the rest. Then I went back to eating my tasty dog meat (Taco Bell).

After that, the yelling got louder and louder. I got a headache. Brandon hit his mouth on the steering wheel of a play car. I got blood on my shirt. Brandon ate peace of my biscotti. I got spitty mushy biscotti on my shirt. Dillan drools. I got drool on my shirt. Myles was being his normal self. It drove me crazy.

And that brings us to one of the biggest reasons I'm afraid to have children. After spending a whole day with crazy kids, the last thing I'm in the mood for is hugging or kissing or touching or petting. I couldn't even handle Myles putting his elbow on me during the car ride home. It annoys me. After a day of that, I need space. So if I ever had kids of my own, would my husband and I be the type of couple that has scheduled sex? Like how strange would that be? It would always be like 'Baby, I'm too tired' or 'Sweetie, you're the reason I have these little gremlins in the first place! Back the hell up!' And that, my dears, would seriously suck ass.

Oh and tonight was supposed to be 'special'. My day with the boys kinda ruined that. I had fun, but because of them, I couldn't get a ride to church which basically means I have no way to see my boyfriend until Wednesday. Thanks a lot, boys. I love them dearly, though. I just don't know if I'll ever be able to make those daily sacrafises. I feel sorry for my boyfriend. I'm gonna be with the boys all summer! Good luck, sweetie!

And Friday was my school's banquet/prom thingie... So here are a couple pictures of me... Your royal hotness

Sexting

Sexting is an extremely uncomfortable subject. That's why I'm writing about it. At the end of last summer/the beggining of fall I had a huge crush on this guy. Let's just call him E. I know some people think that race does matter when it comes to the whole 'I like you, you like me' thing. I'm all for interracial relationships (I'm in one now), but not all of them are the same. Needless to say, I'm black and E was white. It all started one day in church when I got this mysterious message from a very mysterious sender. When I found out that the sender was E, I was like what the freaking hell?! Mind you, I'd been in a class with this guy for 2 years. Between all the racial remarks he made and the way he always seemed to find something to tease me about, I thought I was just about the last person he'd ever be interested. I was somewhat right.

E texted me almost religiously. At first I was excited. I'd always thought that he was cute. But little by little I started seeing things that just didn't add up. He would text me 24/7 and even call me on a good day, but he NEVER talked to me in public... At least not around his friends. He'd sneak me these really suggestive looks when people weren't looking but other than that, he would completely ignore me. Naturally I chalked it up to the fact that we traveled in vastly different circles. I don't remember exactly when it first started, but one day he asked me for a picture of myself. The first few times he asked for pictures of me with my bra and panties on but after a while he wanted more and more skin. I was naive and I thought he was the most amazing guy in the world. I always complied.

Sending E those pictures always gave me a sense of power... Until a couple minutes after I sent them. Most nights I cried myself to sleep. I felt worthless and dirty. Mostly worthless because no matter what I did, no matter how much I winked at him, no matter how sexy the picture was, E still refused to talk to me in front of his friends. I think I always knew that E was just using me. I just didn;t want to believe it. And when I finally came to terms with the fact that he didn't want a relationship, I figured, 'Well at least he thinks I'm hot!' I could never, however, escape the feeling of paranoia that came over me whenever a guy at school or church looked at me. I'd immediately start worrying. I never knew for sure if E actually did keep those pictures to himself.

Now I see it as a learning experience. It's definitely something that has made me stronger. I no longer swoon at every guy that smiles at me. And if it ever happened again, I would probably kick E, or any jerk for thatmatter, in the balls and pray to God that the bastard would die! That's why I value my boyfriend so much. He's not at all pushy. He understands that no means no. Hell! He doesn't even bother to ask stupid things!

My Heart

We have to recite a poem in english class on Friday. We had two options: write your own poem, or recite one from another author. I decided to try my hand at what I call extreme alliteration. I hope someone likes it! :P


My heart harkens to the hard harmony
Of his harsh words
Willing me to weep
I willow and wither, writhing
In pain--piercing precious
Will
To love life and liberty:
The liberty to love like a leech:
Extracting emotion and ever extracting
Till time turns to timed ticks on a timer
Repeatedly reminding me of
The lack of love I have for life
When it lacks his love. And the last
Bit
Of will to stay away is wished away
And my heart aches
When he mutters the melody
That makes me melt
And wills me to weep.
I willow and wither, writhing
In sweet torment, sweetly tormenting.
And the will
To love life and liberty
Returns. For the Royalty that resides
In my heart
Reminds me with resounding reassurance
That surely the sun someday will shine
Because
In my heart stays a Savior.