Everyone has some sound that drives them insane. Mine used to be a knife scraping a plate (like fingernails on a chalkboard). But over the past two weeks I have found what might quite possibly be the most annoying sound in the world!

We live on a fairly busy street. It’s two lanes (well it’s marked as a 2 lane road but some dumb asses drive like it’s 4 lanes when they feel like passing) and a few blocks down is a hospital. So we get quite a bit of traffic. Our house, like the others on this street, sits about 60 feet from the road. Despite the traffic we love the older neighborhood and location.

Two weeks ago that all changed. At first I kept thinking some blind driver must be cutting the corner short and running over the curb when turning down the block. I would hear this noise and then it began to develop a rhythm.

Keplunk. House shakes. Silence. Keplunk. House shakes. Silence. Keplunk. House shakes. Silence. (The silence is when no one is making the road 4 lanes and the traffic actually can avoid the pothole.)

After a sleepless night of hearing this and wondering what could possibly be making that noise we finally figured it out. A pothole. More like crater that could swallow a small kid was right in front of our house.

For the next week we tried to block out the consistent keplunking. It wasn’t working very well.

Then on the news this week I saw our city was having a “pothole blitz”! The answer to my prayers! So I called down to our courteous and efficiently run city office and told them I had a pothole that needed to be filled. The lovely lady with the oh-so pleasant attitude who answered the phone said, “So.”

Uh?!? So? So fill the dang thing is what I wanted to say. But I’ve dealt with the city offices before. Now, I’m not being critical here, just making an observation. Most of them are ladies. Few of them are under 60. Many of them are slobs. All of them need Zoloft more than I do. I’ve learned to kill them with kindness.

So I blab a little with her about how I’m sure she’s been getting a lot of calls and that I can’t imagine it’s easy to keep track of all that, etc…After some small talk with my fellow sister, I ask when she thinks they may get out to fill it.

“Let’s see. You are #417 on the list. Chances are…..um not likely.”

WHAT?!? Is this lady a magic 8 ball? How is that possible? If our city has #417 potholes then they need to do a better job building these roads to begin with! The blitz should have started last year. There are so many issues with this.

For now it’s still keplunk.

It happens to every mom around the world. Sometimes on a daily basis. To me it seems to happen a lot. Whether it be intentional or accidental, it doesn’t curb the appetite of the gnawing feeling deep inside your stomach, quiet the voices in your head or patch the cracks in your heart.

I’m fairly certain it starts to develop even before your child is born, because you are a mother from the instant they are conceived. I’ve read posts of women hurting from miscarriage, describing the guilt they feel for being unable to protect their unborn child. Almost always it is a circumstance beyond their control, but that doesn’t make them feel less responsible. When I was pregnant I worried and fretted over things like taking Tylenol or having even a sip of caffeine. (I do admit feeling no guilt whatsoever when I asked for my epidural.)

After we brought our son home from the hospital I worried with each cry that if I was not comforting him he would feel abandoned. I’ve known mothers who felt anguish when they didn’t have that instant bonding connection with their baby. Returning to work left me with such distress over who would be there when I couldn’t.

With every scraped knee and bump of their head, it is hard not to feel the same pain as your child. As they reach that age where you must set limits and rules you constantly battle with yourself if you are indeed doing the right thing. There are no books that give us all the answers, so much of how we parent comes from within.

I find fault and blame in others who do not treat my child as I think they should, no matter how irrational it is. I fret over making decisions, because you never know which one may shape his future. When my cousin Stephanie (our son’s godmother) passed away within weeks of my grandmother, I felt an extreme sadness that Ethan would not have the opportunity to know these great women in my life.

It doesn’t take much to bring on the guilt. This afternoon when I picked Ethan up from school I accidentally pinched his finger in the door handle. While he was jumping up and down screaming that I did it on purpose, I should have been more concerned about his bleeding finger, but instead my mind was rattling thoughts back-and-forth about how I could possibly convey to him that I would never do anything to hurt him. Then guilt sets in yet again. Not just for inflicting pain, but now for thinking of something else.

So I know it starts early, but when does it end?

Last weekend we had our usual Friday night pizza with my parents. That’s what happens when you get married and have a kid - all normal socializing turns into family time. During dinner my mom informed us she had a million dollar idea! Great, we’re all ears. She subs in elementary schools and has encountered numerous problems with cheaply made pencils that won’t sharpen. And…? Her idea was if we could come up a cheap environmentally friendly material to make pencils out of that didn’t get eaten up by school manual pencil sharpeners we would make millions.

I think she went on for about 15 minutes about this idea. My husband chuckled as he suggested the school use electric pencil sharpeners. My brother smiled as he mentioned that they make these things call pens now, some come with erasers. As for me, I didn’t think this was a “new” problem in schools. I remember grinding the wood off pencils in search of that perfect lead point in school. Most of the time I’d break the tip of my pencil off on purpose. It was a great excuse to need to get up and walk around the class. I also remember these stupid pencils where the lead was in a white tip and you would take one off as it got dull and shove it back through the end of the plastic pencil. Then the next tip would come out. How odd? I’m sure teachers really loved the inventor of those. If you lost one of the white lead tips, you were screwed because the pencil wouldn’t work.

Hey mom, that pencil you’re looking for is called a “mechanical pencil.” Plastic is cheap and they are refillable. Somebody already had that million dollar idea.

Celebrate Woo-Woo tagged me for a history research project. Using Wikipedia you search your birthday (month and date, not year). List 3 events, 2 birthdays, 1 death, 1 holiday (or observance) & tag other bloggers. Below is what I found out about my birthday ~ August 24th.

*3 EVENTS:
-1853 Potato chips are first prepared (See I knew there had to be a reason I liked them!)
-1989 Pete Rose is banned from baseball for gambling (It’s OK for players to use steroids, just don’t bet on it.)
-2006 Pluto is no longer considered a planet (I learned that in school for no reason.)

*2 BIRTHDAYS:
-Reggie Miller (NBA Basketball player)
-Cal Ripkin Jr. (Baseball Player)

*1 DEATH:
-Malcom Kirk (some wrestler dude??)

*1 HOLIDAY:
-Liberia Flag Day (celebrate fun times!)

That was an interesting history lesson. I had never been on Wikipedia before, but did you know you can edit it yourself? I actually added my name under the birthday section. Now I’m famous. I’m not going to “tag” any one in particular, but feel free to go search and add your own birthday.

For those of you who have boys, you may feel my pain in regard to this. I have sent Ethan to school twice this week in jeans that had no holes. Twice this week he has returned home with a new hole in the knee! How is that possible? He must spend all day crawling around on his knees. (Why did we bother teaching him to walk?) That is the only reasonable explanation. Either that or some kid is slicing them with a knife out on the playground at recess. Ethan attends a Catholic school and when I asked him today what happened to his jeans he replied, “I don’t know Mom. God must have done it.” Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? His jeans are holy (in more than one way).

This has been happening all winter, so it’s not like it all of a sudden started this week. He’s a growing boy and it can be hard to keep him in clothes that fit. I’ve bought some on Ebay for really cheap and a few pairs from Wal-Mart & Target. They all seem the same. The jeans from second hand stores (that are used) hold up as well as pairs from The Children’s Place. Quality doesn’t seem to matter. I’m a clearance sale, outlet store, buy a season ahead on sale with a coupon kind of shopper. So sometimes he wears Polo and sometimes he wears Faded Glory. It all depends on what’s on sale. Bet you didn’t know that Ebay and Wal-Mart sell holy jeans? We could be starting a whole new fashion fad. Like in middle school when I used to peg roll my jeans. You know so they would look cool and remind me that a flood could very well happen at anytime.