Got Kids?

I have spent the biggest part of my day cleaning up and organizing Polly Pockets. Lots and lots of Polly Pockets. I detest Polly and her Pockets. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Polly, just make Barbie and Ken collide with Honey, I Shrunk the Kids and you've got Polly Pockets. Nothing. I repeat NOTHING in Polly's wardrobe is larger than 1 inch. Total. Period. Polly herself is only three inches tall. While I was organizing all of her shoes and mittens, I found one of Ken's shoes mixed in...it looked like it belonged to a giant. You get the picture.

I would be willing to bet that the inventor of Polly Pockets didn't have children. Who, in their right mind, would make miniature Barbie dolls, complete with all the accessories. Polly has her own private jet, limo, jeep, house, spa, etc., etc. She even has her very own swimming pool. With water and everything. I even came upon hangers with which to hang the 1-inch dress or ball gown of Polly's. Youngest Child won't even hang up her real clothes, no way is she going to hang up Polly's!

So I was temporarily insane this morning and decided I was tired of Youngest Child not using her closet for that in which it was intended. You could open the door to the closet, and that was about it. Clothes were mixed with stuffed animals were mixed with Polly Pockets were mixed with books were mixed with shoes. And that was just the beginning. No wonder YC couldn't find anything...it was probably in her closet! So I put the stuffed animals together. I put the Webkins together. I put the Bitty Baby and American Girl goodies together. And I was left with Polly and all of her accessories.

It was so bad, I even tried to play Deal or No Deal with Oldest Child. She is getting wise to my ways. When I asked her if she'd like to make some money, her response was, "It's not worth $10 to clean up that mess." When I upped it to $25, she was very interested. Yes, I know I'm crazy to pay someone $25 to clean up a bunch of dolls. Have I told you lately how much I loath Polly Pockets?? We have PP storage containers sitting completely empty because it would be too logical to put the "stuff" where it's supposed to go. But Oldest Child is all about making money. And when she's in the mood, she can clean up a storm. I was hoping today was one of those days. Unfortunately for me, she decided I could keep my money because she'd rather play on the computer or the Wii instead of back in YC's room.

But alas, I did prevail. All of Polly's rooms are sitting on the bookshelf. All of her cars are in the floor. Each drawer of the plastic storage container thingy has one specific Polly item in it. All the clothes (Youngest Child's clothes, not Polly's clothes) are hung and organized, shoes in the shoe hanger. And it will stay that way for, oh, 9.4 seconds at least.

No More Oatmeal Kisses

I was talking with my sweet neighbor over at H World Adventures the other night, and it dawned on me that I'm getting old. Thanks, Aim's...Merry Christmas to you, too! We were talking about motherhood and kids and messes and on and on and on. I made a comment from one of my favorite authors of all times - Erma Bombeck. Aim's had no idea who I was talking about. So I went to my trusty little friend, the Internet, who has all the answers. I didn't realize she has been dead for 11 years! Seems like only yesterday I was reading her columns in my Good Housekeeping magazine. She was a blogger before there was a blog; she started out as a SAHM turned newspaper columnist turned author. So for those of you who are too young to remember dear, sweet Erma, I am writing one of my favorite stories from her book, Forever, Erma. For those of you who don't know who she is or have never read any of her work before, stop now, run to your local library, and check out two or three of her books and spend the week between Christmas and New Years reading and laughing.

No More Oatmeal Kisses - January 29, 1969

A young mother writes: "I know you've written before about the empty-nest syndrome, that lonely period after the children are grown and gone. Right now I'm up to my eyeballs in laundry and muddy boots. The baby is teething; they boys are fighting. My husband just called and said to eat without him, and I fell off my diet. Lay it on my again, will you?"
OK. One of these days, you'll shout "Why don't you kids grow up and act your age!" And they will. Or, "You guys get outside and find yourselves something to do...and don't slam the door!" And they won't.
You'll straighten up the boys' bedroom neat and tidy: bumper stickers discarded, bedspread tucked and smooth, toys displayed on the shelves. Hangers in the closet. Animals caged. And you'll say out loud, "Now I want it to stay this way." And it will.
You'll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasn't been picked to death and a cake with no finger traces in the icing, and you'll say: "Now, there's a meal for company." And you'll eat it alone.
You'll say: "I want complete privacy on the phone. No dancing around. No demolition crews. Silence! Do you hear?" And you'll have it.
No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghetti. No more bedspreads to protect the sofa from damp bottoms. No more gates to stumble over at the top of the basement steps. No more clothespin under the sofa. No more playpens to arrange a room around.
No more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent. No more sand on the sheets or Popeye movies in the bathroom. No more iron-on patches, rubber bands for ponytails, tight boots or wet knotted shoestrings.
Imagine. A lipstick with a point on it. No baby-sitter for New Year's Eve. Washing only once a week. Seeing a steak that isn't ground. Having your teeth cleaned without a baby on your lap.
No PTA meetings. No car pools. No blaring radios. No one washing her hair at 11 o'clock at night. Having your own roll of Scotch tape.
Think about it. No more Christmas presents out of toothpicks and library paste. No more sloppy oatmeal kisses. No more tooth fairy. No giggles in the dark. No knees to heal, no responsibility.
Only a voice crying. "Why don't you grow up?" and the silence echoing, "I did."

I'm Sorry, I'm Sorry, I'm Sorry

It never dawned on me that yesterday was December 17th. I remembered it was December 17th today when I sat down to catch up on my blog reading. The first blog I read had, hmmm, Tour of Home pictures...oopsie! So then, of course, I had to go around blog-er land and look at everybody else's pretty Christmas decorations. But you know there's a good reason I forgot why yesterday was the 17th.

I live with Oldest Child (13) and Youngest Child (10) and YC takes every advantage to get back at OC at any given moment. Well, yesterday YC stepped over the line by telling the neighbor kids a bunch of lies on OC because it made YC look good. Before I can figure out what happened, OC and YC are crying hysterically, Neighbor Kid 1 and Neighbor Kid 2 are in tears. OC is screaming at YC and slamming doors (surprise, surprise, surprise!). Mom across the street and I are trying to untangle the tangled web that was woven to figure out who said what and what is true and what was made up. All while I was supposed to be posting Tour of Homes pictures and getting ready for my Christmas Bunko party. Geez, Youngest Child, if you're going to tell a bunch of lies on your sister, could you please do it on a night I don't have any plans?!

But, alas, DH to the rescue! After the fiasco that was my evening, he insisted that I go to Bunko because I had been looking forward to it. He would handle the girls because they were now walking a straight and narrow path because they realized they had stepped over the line. Neighbor Mom had her kids settled down and yes, OC would be able to babysit again and yes, the kids would be able to play together again and no, they don't hate us...You know you are among friends when you can arrive at Bunko in your PJ's with a tear-stained face and be welcomed with hugs and a cold glass of sangria. I love bunko!

Dear Santa

I've held on to this article since the year my daughter was born. I've read it each year since, and thought about the changes of the past year. This year, it's not different...'cept for the fact that I am now sharing it with you lucky internets. I cut it out of the December '94 Family Circle (page 156 to be exact, thankyouverymuch). Enjoy (but be forewarned about reading it aloud with wee ones around...)

Dear Santa,

My 5-year-old boy scribbled out his Christmas list. It's there by the fireplace. The Coke and chocolates are from him, in case you're hungry. You know 5-year-olds these days. The Cheez-Its are from me.
Santa, if you don't mind, I thought I'd go ahead and leave my list, too. It's long, but do what you can. It's all I want for Christmas.

• Santa, let my little boy grow up still believing that he has the funniest dad in the neighborhood.
• Give him many close friends, both boys and girls. May they fill his days with adventure, security and dirty fingernails.
• Leave his mom and me some magic dust that will keep him just the size he is now. We'd just as soon he stayed 5 years old and 3 feet 4 inches.
• If he must grow up, Santa, make sure he still wants to sit on my lap at bedtime and read The Frog and The Toad Together.
• If you can help it, Santa, never let him be sent into war. His mother and I love our country, but we love our 5-year-old boy more.
• While you're at it, give our world leaders a copy of The Killer Angels, Michael Shaara's retelling of the Battle of Gettysburg. May it remind them that too many moms and dads have wept at Christmas for soldiers who died in battles that needn't have been fought.
• Let our house always be filled wth slamming doors and toilet seats, which are the official sounds of little boys.
• Break it to him gently, Santa, that his dad won't always be able to carry him to bed at night or brush his teeth for him. Teach him courage in the face of such change.
• Let him understand that no matter how nice you are to everyone, the world will sometimes break your heart. As you know, Santa, a child's feelings are as fragile as moth wings.
• Let him become a piano player, a soccer star or a clergyman. Or all three. Anything but a politician.
• Give him a hunger for books, music, and georgraphy. May he be the first kid in kindergarten to be able to find Madagascar on a map.
• The kid's a born artist, Santa, so send more crayons. May our kitchen window and refrigerator doors be ever plastered with his sketches of surreal rainbows and horses with big cars.
• Steer him oh so carefully to that little girl who is destined to be his bride. Let his mother and me still be around when he walks her down the aisle. If there is a just God, let her daddy be obscenely rich.
• Grant him a heart that will cherish what his parents did right, and forgive us for the mistakes we surely will have made over a lifetime of raising him.
• Let him not hold it against us that he was born with my chin and his mother's ears. Time will teach him that these are God's ways of girding him for life's adversities.
• Hold him steady on the day that he learns the truth about you and the Easter Bunny. May he take the news better than I did.
• While you're flying around the heavens, Santa, make sure God has heard or prayer for this child: Lead our little boy not into temptation; deliver him from evil.

Be careful out there, Santa. And close the flue on your way up.

David V. Chartrand

It's Beginning to Sound A Lot Like Christmas

I had a meeting tonight after school and was childless; Oldest Child had a dance that DH was chaperoning and Youngest Child chose to stay home for a quiet evening. So after the meeting, I ran to Wal Mart because both of my printers were out of ink...just my luck. Some important papers are being faxed to me and neither printer has ink...wonder where it went? Oldest Child, do you have an answer for that one??

But I digress.Now being in metro Atlanta, you can drive 15 minutes and be at almost any store you want. Only I didn't want to pass my house on the way to WM, so I decided to go to the WM in the neighboring town, thus making a big circle, thus utilizing my time more efficiently. I go, get the ink for BOTH printers, and stand waiting patiently in the checkout lane.

Suddenly, there is a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, this nice young lady said, "Do you know you have something white on the back of your pants?" No, I replied and thanked her for kindly telling me. Thankfully I was headed home, and only my fellow Wal Mart shoppers were going to see the white whatever smeared all over my black pants. Guess Nice Young Lady didn't think she'd made her point because then she uttered, "Yeah, the whole $ % & of your pants is covered in sometin white; looks like it might be sheetrock dust."

I love the sounds of the holidays!

Dogs vs. Cats

There are many, many posts rattling around in my feeble little brain. But with all the other "needs" on my list right now, I'm having to prioritize my blogging in order to get everything else done...like dinner and dishes, laundry and feeding various and sundry animals. So I decided that this post was the most important one at this point in time right now. It is entitled "The Cat Years" and was written by Adair Lara at the San Francisco Chronicle. It came to me via my friend of a friend Marney Bet. If you have babies or toddlers, hold on to this post, as it will be useful in your near future. If you have older children, you now have a name for what you experienced when they were teenagers. Come back soon to read the post entitled: Adolescence, A No-Brain er (Literally). Until then, enjoy.

I just realized that while children are dogs - loyal and affectionate - teenagers are cats. It's so easy to be a dog owner. You feed it, train it, boss it around. It puts its head on your knee and gazes at you as if you were a Rembrandt painting. It bounds indoors with enthusiasm when you call it.

Then, around age 13, your adoring little puppy turns into a big old cat. When you tell it to come inside, it looks amazed, as if wondering who died and made you emperor. Instead of dogging at footsteps,it disappears. You won't see it again until it gets hungry - then it pauses on its sprint through the kitchen long enough to turn its nose up at whatever you're serving. When you reach out to ruffle its head, in that old affectionate gesture, it twists away from you, then gives you a blank stare, as if trying to remember where it has seen you before.

You, not realizing that the dog is now a cat, think something must be desperately wrong with it. It seems so antisocial, so distant, sort of depressed. It won't go on family outings.

Since you're the one who raised it, taught it to fetch and stay and sit on command, you assume that you did something wrong. Flooded with guilt and fear, you redouble your efforts to make your pet behave.

Only now you're dealing with a cat, so everything that worked before now produces the opposite of the desired result. Call it; and it runs away. Tell it to sit, and it jumps on the counter. The more you go toward it, wringing your hands, the more it moves away.

Instead of continuing to act like a dog owner, you can learn to behave like a cat owner. Put a dish of food near the door, and let it come to you. But remember that a cat needs your help and your affection too. Sit still, and it will come, seeking that warm, comforting lap it has not entirely forgotten. Be there to open the door for it.

One day, your grown-up child will walk into the kitchen, give you a big kiss and say, "You've been on your feet all day. Let me get those dishes for you." Then you'll realize your cat is a dog again.

Sante Fe' Soup

I posted this recipe for BooMama's Soup-Tacular. Check out other recipes over there.

2 lb. ground chuck (or ground turkey)
1 large onion
2 - 1 oz package Hidden Valley dressing mix
1 - 1.25 oz package taco seasoning mix
2 - 11 oz cans shoepeg white corn - drained
2 cups water
1 16oz can black beans (don't drain)
1 16 oz an kidney beans (don't drain)
1 16 oz can pinto beans (don't drain)
3 4.5 oz can stewed tomatoes (don't drain)
3 10 oz cans Rotel tomatoes (don't drain)

Cook beefand onions together. Add rest of ingredients. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 2 hours. Enjoy!

A New Blogger!

My friend across the street has a blog! Welcome to blog world, Amy! Can't wait for you to share her joys as she finishes nursing school, raises BB the local spelling bee champion and DQ who is muttering through fourth grade...just happens to be my specialty...hmmmmm. So jump on over to Hworldadventures and tell her hello. Stop back often and check in! Welcome aboard, Amy!

I've Been Tricked

6:00 a.m. My house. I should have known from the beginning it was only a trick. Oldest Child woke up on my first trip to her room. She actually woke up without grunting or yelling or telling me to leave; she didn't even kick the dog off of her bed. She got up and started getting dressed. That should have been my first clue I was being set up. I'm still working on my first cup of coffee when I meet her in the hall.

"Mom, if I get dressed really quick and I brush my teeth and do everything I need to do, can we please, please, please go to WalMart". I immediately start racking my brain trying to figure out what she's told me she needs for school that I've forgotten and she's going to fail a major project and it will be all my fault because she needed a major ingredient at the store and I forgot and now she can't complete her project (remember, the last sentence of the first paragraph talks about the first cup of coffee...)

"Pirates of the Carribean 3 comes out today and I really, really need to buy it before they sell out". I wanted to go back and crawl under the electric blanket.

Dear Santa:

I have finally figured out what I want for Christmas. No, not my two front teeth. No, not a shiny new car parked in the driveway with a big, red bow on top. No, nothing that costs a lot of money. The thing that will be on the top of my Christmas list this year? One day without drama. Just 24 hours, from midnight to midnight, with everyone coexisting in the same house, with no tears, yelling, screaming, slamming doors, and everyone talking the entire 24 hours in a normal tone of voice. Too much to ask, you say? You could probably just go ahead and go shopping, 'cause this one wish even you can't grant. Why such an odd request, you ask? Walk with me back through the past 72 hours of my life...

Thursday was the Christmas parade in our neighboring town. We've never been to that one, because we always go to the parade in our town. But Oldest Child's dance team was dancing in the parade, and being the supportive mother that I am, I had to go watch her. So off we go, only to discover that the only route I know has the roads already blocked. Uh, oh. Don't know a plan B. Oh, wait...somehow we've found the back of the building where she needs to be. Of course, that wasn't good enough. That wasn't where she wanted to be dropped off. I should have known that was my warning of what was to come. By the time the parade got to where we were standing, all of the girls looked angry. And noone was, hmmm, dancing. Should have been clue #2. So when the parade was over, we waited for OC to come find us. And waited. And waited. And waited. Finally, we decide to go walk and try to find her. At long last, we meet up. The scrowl on her face should have been clue #3. I knew better than to ask her how it went. Every ounce of my being told me not to ask her how the parade was. Unfortunately, I didn't listen. You got it...I asked. And she proceeded to tell me how horrible, awful, rotten their performance was. The drama that ensued on the trip home is not even blog-able. Use your imagination.

So today was the Christmas parade in our town. Again, the dance team was scheduled to perform. After the fiasco that was Thursday's parade, the dance team decided to ride on a trailer and throw candy. Personally, I've dubbed it "the dance team that doesn't". They didn't dance, but they were speaking at the end; does that mean we call this a win?

Then fast forward to our house after the parade. Youngest Child casually asks, "Why is the cat dish outside?" Then starts bawling. Nevermind the cat bowl has been in the same exact place on the deck for the past week. Nevermind that Youngest Child hasn't asked about the cat since at least Sunday (how do I know, you ask...because that's when Dear Hubby put the cat outside). But for some strange reason, she chose today to inquire about the cat. We have been debating this drastic relocation of the cat for some time. We have tried everything we know how to try; we have used every remedy our vet suggested. But the cat still insists on marking his territory in my house but outside of his litter box. I kept trying to side with the cat because he really is a sweet cat. And Dear Hubby and I have seen the cat everyday this week, so we know he's still here. But when we came home from Thanksgiving and every bedpost in the house had been marked, that was the last straw. I, being the supportive mother I am, made DH do the dirty deed. I merely set the bowl outside; he did the rest. But today, for some strange reason, YC decided to inquire about Reggie. She has been in tears since. She missed a Sunday school Christmas party because she couldn't bear to leave looking for the cat. She only looks forelornley out the back window...and cries.

So you see, Santa, a day with no drama is all that's on my wish list this year. And if you could find that in your bag as you land on my rooftop on Christmas Eve, I will be forever indebted to you.

Sincerely, your BFF,
Fabthemayor

The Irony of it All

Kudos go out to my neighbor, B, who won his school's spelling bee today. When I heard he won, my first thought was, "I need to go to Bruster's and get him an ice cream cake to celebrate". My first thought for almost anything that needs celebrated is, "I need to go to Bruster's and get an ice cream cake". So after school, I ran a couple errands, and stopped by to pick up the cake. Yes, they had Oreo cookie cake already made up...life's looking pretty good right now. So the nice high school girl asked me what color I wanted the writing in. Decisions, decisions, decisions. Now having only girls to buy for, the colors pink and purple immediately came to mind. But being a boy, B may not appreciate said colors. Then I thought blue...blue is a boy color; too generic. Oh, wait...I know...his school color is green. So I decided on green, and all I needed to say was "congratulations". Simple, right?

WRONG! It is my hope that tonight was Miss High School Girl's first day on the job. After she found the green icing, she was trying to figure out how to make it write on the cake. Uh, oh. I think we're in trouble. That thought was confirmed when Miss High School Girl asked the "manager" who was a couple years older, how to spell congratulations. Oh, my...and my students wonder why I get so upset when they can't spell correctly.

So after they discuss the correct spelling of the word congratulations, she starts writing it on the cake. I notice there is much discussion occuring around the cake; I also notice how wobbly her hand is as she is writing. I really didn't think stopping by picking up an ice cream cake would be this difficult. I wait, and I wait, and. I. wait...

"Wait", I say. "How 'bout we just keep it simple and make it say, "Congrats". I really didn't mean to stress the poor girl out; I was simply trying to do a good deed. "No", came the reply. "she's almost got it". Oh, my goodness. Perhaps spelling should be added to the employment application for Bruster's. She was so proud of herself; she brought the cake over (we won't even go into the trouble she had trying to figure out how to unfold the box and fold the lid flap over...you can only imagine). I looked at the cake, paid for it, took it from the counter, and walked away shaking my head. After all that, I presented my neighbor with a cake that proudly said, "CONGRATULATION".

You can bet your bottom dollar my students will be focusing more on spelling in the coming weeks; you never know, they may work at Bruster's one day. Congatulation, B, we're proud of you!

P.S. Remember you have until December 3rd to vote for Susan so she can take her son to the Barth Syndrome conference this summer.

We've Almost Done It!

OK, let's face it. I've accomplished absolutely not a whole lot tonight. I wanted to show a clip from YouTube to my classroom tomorrow, so I went to my "technical support" and played with the triplets while she worked her magic...except her magic failed me this evening. Only I was ready to give up the ghost long before she actually gave it up. I should be logging on to the online gradebook checking Oldest Child's grades to see if, in fact, she has turned in everything like she says she has (gee, wonder why I have to follow up on that one!?!?). But instead, I have been totally productive and I just checked the voting for free air miles (see previous post) and Susan is running neck-and-neck with the first place person...she is within 1% of taking her family to the Barth Syndrome conference this summer! Come on, internets, you can make this happen for her. If my Sunday school class can raise enough money to send one family to the conference for a week, you can log on to vote and send Susan and her family to Florida for this invaluable experience. Remember you have until December 3rd to send her to the conference!

Susan Needs Our Help!

...and time is of the essence. If you don't know what it is, please go read about Barth Syndrome. We have very close friends who have a son, William, with Barth Syndrome. With the season of thankfulness in the air, they are thankful that he is one of the healthiest boys in the world with this genetic disorder.William is in an elite group. There are only around 100 boys in the world who have been diagnosed with this disorder. One of the other elite members in this group needs your help.Susan Hone's son also has Barth Syndrome. The Hone family lives in Canada and they are trying to win airline miles to be able to attend the Barth Syndrome conference this summer in Florida. This conference is very important as many physicians across the world attend. The boys are seen by the top docs in this field.Please take 2-3 minutes and read about their family and vote for them to be able to go to the conference. Voting ends December 3rd! And say a little prayer for all of these boys.

I found out tonight through my Sunday school prayer chain that one of the boys, Aldo, received a heart transplant on Thanksgiving day; talk about a family being thankful. I have been monitoring the rankings since Juju sent me her e-mail, and Susan is catching up. It would mean so much for her family to be able to attend this conference. So right now, I need for both of you who read my blog to go to the link and vote for Susan. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Christmas is in the Air

I'm really trying to get in the Christmas spirit. Really. I look at the calendar and see how many (or how few) shopping days there are 'till Christmas. I have the place picked out for the Christmas tree...once we get it out of the attic. I sit here waiting for the Christmas tree fairy to come decorate my house and I'll be all ready for the holidays. In the meantime, I found this wonderful new Christmas CD to listen to. Perhaps the Christmas tree fairy will hear it and come running!

Hey, I Know You!

I was doing my favorite thing in the whole world today...grocery shopping. Me and many, many, many of my best friends we shopping for Thanksgiving dinner today. After making my list and checking it twice, everything was loaded in the truck, chocolate and fountain Coke within arm's reach; ready to head home...to do my second favorite thing in the whole world. Unload the aforementioned groceries.

I am trying to adopt BooMama's philosophy of listening to Christian music in the car for two reasons. (1) It is difficult to bless other drivers out when you are singing along with 104.7 The Fish...sorta sacreligious dontchathink. (2) It is difficult to yell at Oldest Child and Youngest Child when singing along with 104.7 The Fish. And coming from someone who drives approximately, hmmmm, 7 minutes to work, I don't do traffic. Imagine my surprise when I turned my truck on and The 21st Time from Monk & Neagle was PLAYING. ON THE RADIO. NOT ON MY FREE CD THEY SENT ME (see my sidebar). I sang and sang and sang...right along with the radio. I'm telling you you will not be sorry if you go buy this CD; every song on it is absolutely fabulous. Then when you hear The 21st Time come on the radio, you, too, will be able to sing along.

Among the Living

Yes, I am still among the living, reading various blogs on a daily basis. Been keeping up with BooMama, Big Mama, and Rocks' wild weekend in Birmingham. Already logged in with Lynne at And Babies Makes Six so she can get some Ebates thanks to me. But that's about all I can muster.

I could tell you about going back to school after being off a week for Fall break and how I enjoyed my week off tremendously. And how Oldest Child went to Kentucky with Lynne and the babies.

I could tell you about trick-or-treating with my Sunday School class and what fun we had. It was even a great outreach ministry because of another occasion that was going on at our church during that time. Got to meet people I wouldn't have otherwise gotten to meet.

I could tell you about celebrating The Dude's 23rd birthday with him on Friday and how it is his first actual birth date since he was four that his dad has gotten to spend with him and how we took him and his favorite cousin out to eat Mexican. I could tell you that I originally set it up to meet at 6:30 for dinner. That would have worked perfectly except for one, small, tiny, minute detail. The resturant was 30 minutes away from the house and The Dude doesn't even get off work until 7:00. Guess he'd actually like to be there for his own party, huh?!

I could tell you how excited I am to be working out the final details of my aunt and uncle from WV coming to visit next Monday for dinner. Oh, by the way, it is an aunt and uncle I haven't had any contact with in the past, oh, say, twenty years...give or take a few years...That could lead into a whole 'nother discussion of the relationships that have rekindled in the past month since my father passed away.

These are the things I could tell you if, indeed, I had the energy to do so. But the truth is, I'm exhausted. I'm enoying reading the blogs and laughing with you. But between work, and homework, and housework, and life in general, I'm too exhausted to be witty right now. But alas, I wil prevail and I will return. The dance team is working on a new dance and you know you wouldn't wanna miss all the drama that entails. I think I hear a bubble bath with my name on it.

Recalculating

“Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” (Galatians 6:2) What an appropriate verse for today. Haven't been blogging about the WVU/MSU football game; haven't posted pictures of us at the GT game; haven't caught you up on the latest middle school dance team drama; haven't writting a blog in awhile. I received a call on Tuesday evening that my dad was in critical condition in the hospital in VA. Everything else takes backseat when you receive a phone call like that.

Unfortunately, my dad didn't make it through this illness; he passed away Wednesday afternoon after a long illness. So instead of all the plans I had for the weekend, everything in my world was recalculated, we traveled to WV for the memorial service, and now we're home. When I read this Bible verse, I thought about all the phone calls and e-mails I've received in the past week.

Everyone wants to do something to help. It took me so long to be able to say, "yes". It took me a long time to be able to accept the help that others are offering. It is not a sign of weakness; it is not a sign of need. It is a sign that if the tables were turned, I'd be the one who wanted to help. So when a neighbor called and said she wanted to bring dinner tonight, instead of telling her I was fine and she didn't need to do that, I simply said, "thank you" and "that's nice". She and her husband even joined us for dinner and we had a great time.

I'm sure there will be many examples of that in the days ahead; so I will receive when it is my turn to receive. By doing that, I will be ready to give back when the time comes.

Football in the South

On this, I must disagree with BooMama. I have enjoyed her fashion expertise; I've even stopped by my local Target to check out some items she's previewed for me. I'm still trying to find the Wal Mart yoga pants from last season that, once I find them, will be the most comfortable pants in my closet. I love her recipes; in fact, I picked up all necessary ingredients to try her delicious granola recipe. I love her blog and check in faithfully each day to see what Howard is up to. And I thought the blog of BooMama was as close to the real thing as Coke.

That is, until I was reading the hometown newspaper for my hometown (my original hometown in West Virginia, not the hometown I live in now). I always check to see if they're playing on TV in the south because once a Mountaineer, always a Mountaineer. I realized West Virginia University had its homecoming game next Saturday. Guess who they're playing?! BooMama's Mississippi State Bulldogs. I've even found myself cheering for the Bulldogs this season because I knew BooMama would be proud. That is, of course, because they weren't playing West Virginia.

But come Saturday, all bets are off. Unfortunately, I'm gonna have to drop BooMama a note and have her cheer for both teams because I have been invited by Lynn and Clif to the Georgia Tech homecoming game. With FRONT. ROW. SEATS. ON. THE. 10. YARD. LINE!! And as if that's not enough, we're taking all the babies (decked out in their GT spiritwear, of course) so the chances of being on the (1) jumbotron and (2) TV are very high!

However am I going to concentrate on the duties-at-hand this week with all the excitement in the air this weekend??

I Do Love Me a Good Football Ballgame

...Subtitled "God Don't Like Bad".If you're a return visitor blog, you know that Oldest Child is on the dance team at her middle school. What you may not know is that her middle school team is undefeated, which makes for an exciting game because every team you play wants to knock you off. Last week we played a team who played "dirty ball". They tackled around the neck and tripped you if that didn't work. I can tell you anything and everything you ever wanted to know about Nascar, but my knowledge of football rules leaves a little to be desired. When I can tell there is something wrong, there is something definitely wrong. When I can see the penalty, there was definitely a penalty. But we won the game in the last minute by two points.

This week, the playoffs started. Guess who we played this week in the opening round of the playoffs?! You got it...the Bad Team...again...two weeks in a row. This time Bad Team brought more supporters with them. Our fans were there dressed in the green with their shakers ready to root, root, root for the home team (oh, wait...that's baseball). On our first offensive possession, the kid carrying the ball got tripped. The ref called it! A couple plays later, the Bad Team got called for a face mask...in the same possession they got called for whatever you call it when you tackle them around the neck! It was priceless...just priceless I tell you. We scored on that possession; we scored on the next possession, we got a safety on THEIR possession. All those yellow flags took the wind right out of their sails; hate it when that happens! They couldn't play fair, so they couldn't play at all.

Final score: 31-0...should have taken a picture and posted it for you to see! Moral of the story, play fair. God don't like bad. Some people can't play by the rules. And coming from Oh She Who Is a Rule Follower, I shook my shaker with all my might because every time they broke the rules, the refs called it!

Stay tuned next Wednesday (or Thursday...) for a recap of the regional championship game!

P.S. The dancers couldn't perform tonight because the PA system wasn't working, so there is no Oldest Child drama to report. Chances are it will be up and running next week, so the drama can continue; I know you wouldn't wanna miss that!

I Did Not...

...feed them more than one piece of cake - I promise!


Let me explain these pictures. Several of you read my dear, sweet friend Lynne's blog over at And Babies Make Six and you know all about her triplets and older brother Austin. And you can imagine how much alone time she and her husband get; you can picture how often they get to go on an actual date. Well, Friday was Clif's birthday, my calendar was free on Friday evening, so I went to stay with the kiddos and Lynne got to take Clif out for sushi for his birthday.

Rewind to earlier in the day. Friday is a school day for all four kids; Lynne kept Youngest Child for me because it was a teacher workday. When they picked up the kids, they headed off for Stone Mountain to ride the train and play putt putt. DURING THE BABIES NAP TIME! So there was no nap on Friday. So there was no way the babies would be awake when Mom and Dad got home from their date, let alone be in a mood to eat birthday cake. So we sang and blew out candles before they left; the babies ate cake while they were gone (yes, we saved some for the birthday boy!). Fortunately, there were four people in the house ten and older, which meant there was one big person for every little person. Tyler is going to be the party animal of the group; he ate this birthday cake like there was no tomorrow. That baby enjoys birthdays...his, mine, dad's, or anybody's...he doesn't care - it's a birthday and that means cake. John is usually the neat one of the bunch...notice I say usually because that baby got icing places I didn't know icing could go. He would look at Tyler, rub chocolate through his hair, and laugh. They enjoyed the evening, we enjoyed the evening, Mom and the birthday boy enjoyed the evening. What's a little chocolate among friends?!

Clif took one look at the pictures and couldn't believe they got this messy from one, little, small piece of birthday cake. Well, rest assured, dear internets, that yes, I only fed them each one small piece of cake, and judging from the amount of icing on them, I'm fairly confident that not that much icing went in them.

They were all bathed, squeaky clean, and sound alseep by the time Mom and Dad returned from their nice quiet evening of eating sushi.

Overheard at My House Today

Keep in mind, these conversations took place throughout the course of the day. Each line break indicates a different time span.

Mom: "Oldest Child, it's time to get up"
Oldest Child: "I don't want to get up"
(well, I didn't either, but I really need to keep my job for a few more years, so I decided that it was in my best interest to do so).

M: "OC, I need you to pick up your school bags"
OC: "I don't want to, I'm watching TV and reading a book"
(yeah, well, don't think I asked if you WANTED to pick them up)

OC: "OMG, where's the pizza?? I only had TWO PIECES OF CHEESE PIZZA and everybody ate the REST and now I DON'T HAVE ANYMORE"
M: "Well, you chose to go to your room instead of eat"
OC: "WHY DID YOU EAT ALL THE PIZZA??"
Dad: "Look in the refrigerator, it's been put away"
OC: "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME THAT??"

OC: "Can I please go to Girlfriend's house on Saturday and spend the night with her because word, word, word, word, lots of other words, and Youngest Child has spent the night at two houses in the last two weeks PLUS had 4 other playdates and you always tell me no and word, words, words, and that's why it's only fair that I get to spend the night at Girlfriend's house"
M: "Go ask you dad"
So she goes through the whole spill again.
Dad: "Yes, as long it's OK with your mom"
(OK, you caught us, we love Younger Child more than we love you so we let her do more stuff)

OC: "Mom, you didn't go to The Sporting Good store and buy me a pair of gym shorts"
M: "I haven't been to the store this week"
OC: "Yes you have because you went to The Sporting Good store and bought you that new shirt you have on because it's a new one because I haven't seen you wear that one before you and when you bought that shirt you FORGOT to buy me a pair of gym shorts"
M: "I bought this shirt in the spring on clearance and it's been in my closet since then"
(I'm sorry; WHY am I justifying my spending patterns to a 13-year old again??)

OC: (low growl)"Why do they have to make this stuff so hard??? (as she sits doing square root homework) I hate this stuff, I'm just gonna drop out of school!!"
(well, not so much. not an option)

OC: (at 7:30 pm) "Dad, you needed to pick Mr. Neighbor up at...uh oh...6:30"
M: "OC, what time did he call?"
OC: "It doesn't matter, Dad was supposed to pick him up but you already talked to him"
M: "Yes, we've already talked to him, but you didn't know that and you answered the phone and didn't deliver the message and Mr. Neighbor could have been sitting over there waiting on Dad to pick him up"
OC: "Yeah, but Dad already talked to him so it doesn't matter"
M: "Yes, we did already talk to him, but you didn't know that. If you're not going to deliver the message, don't pick up the phone."
OC: "Yeah, but it's Other Neighbor's fault because one time I didn't answer the phone because I thought it was Mr. Neighbor and I was gonna let the machine get it and it was really Other Neighbor because his mom wasn't home and he needed me to babysit and I thought maybe it was Other Neighbor calling from Mr. Neighbor's house because he needed me to babysit him and I could make some money because I'm broke and, like, I have no money and so if Other Neighbor needed me to babysit then I could make some money and I wrote the message from Mr. Neighbor on my hand so I would remember, I just forgot to tell you to call him."
(all's well that ends well???)


OC: "OMG, why do you always tell everybody everything"
(as Mom is rudely interrupted while talking to a girlfriend on the phone)
OC: "You just think you have homework; just wait till you get to 8th grade!"
Youngest Child: "Shut up!"
OC: "Make me"

And I will spare you the drama associated with bedtime at my house. Just start sending up prayers now.

EDITED TO ADD: OK, I thought I was going to spare you the drama of bedtime...wrong! Everyone is settled, in bed, all is quiet and everyone is falling asleep. It is, after all, 9:15. When all of the sudden, from Oldest Child's room, came a blood curdling scream. A scream like no other; a scream the definitely says something's wrong...a scream that wouldn't stop. DH and I both jumped up and ran, all the while asking what's wrong, what's wrong?? Wouldn't you know it - she was stung by a scorpion in her bed. OUCH! So I went into doctor mode and DH went in to Alligator Hunting mode. Alas, rest assured, dear internets, the offending scorpion has been rescued and is now safely in a jar. Getting Oldest Child to ever sleep in her room again, however, will not be as easy. Good thing we have a comfy couch!

You, Too, Can Be Like Me

Yes, I know you've wanted to be like me all along...now it's possible! For awhile now, I've been listening to (rockin out to) the new Monk & Neagle CD their producers sent me to preview. Guess what...yesterday it went on sale. Stop what you're doing right now, click on the link, decide that yes, you really do love their music, and run right out to your nearest Christian bookstore and you, too, can be the proud owner of this fabulous CD.

Thank you, Monk & Neagle, for making me one of the first in my town to be the proud owners of this powerful music!

People Watching

We just got home from our county fair. Actually, it's in the next county, but until we moved to the country, it was our county, too. It is an annual tradition that we load up the kids (on a school night, no less) and go have fun at the fair. While we were there, Oldest Child and Youngest Child each got to bring a friend. Being the mother that I am, I decided that it would be easier for each to have a friend than for (1) me to have to get on the rides and (2) listen to the precious cherubs bicker, fight, and argue the whole time we were waiting in line.

I did a lot of that tonight...waiting...I don't ride rides (another post for another day; but suffice it to say Dear Hubby now believes me when I tell him I get sick on rides...) and the longer we were there, the longer the lines became - imagine that. So the longer I waited. Which gave me lots of time to people watch...and people watch I did. I now realize why they call Atlanta the melting pot of the south...and I thought about how glad I am I never gave into the temptation of getting some permanent body art put somewhere on my body...and I counted all they years that have gone by since DH and I "dated" at the fair, Oldest Child was a mere babe her first year at the fair...all the years we spent in the "kiddy only" secion...until this year when she informed me she WAS 13 and had a cell phone and was capable of walking around the fair on her own (another blog for another day...) and I thought about how everyone out there tonight was having a good time.

We all want the same things for our kids. When it boils down to it, as parents we want our kids to be happy. And we will do anything in our power to ensure that this happens. Whether we were born and raised in Georgia, another state or another country, we want to make our kids happy. I saw one little Hispanic girl with beautiful long dark hair and georgous dark eyes. The precious little thing was eating a roasted corn-on-the-cob that was as big as she was...and she was smiling the whole time she was eating it!

And I thought about this post from This Ain't New York where she found a little girl in a store all alone. I constantly had my guard up tonight. It's enough pressure to be responsible for my own kids; now I was responsible or two other kids, too! And of course they didn't want to ride the same rides at the same time. My head was spinning the whole time. All these people, everywhere. What if someone were to try to take one? Mine or someone elses? I noticed myself eyeing wee ones to make sure there was an adult close by. Whether it's the mother in me or the teacher in me or the human being in me, I needed to make sure everyone was matched up. And I thought about all we've taught our girls about how not to go anywhere with strangers, and we spend 13 years teaching her...but is it enough? When do we take a step back and see if what we've been teaching has sunk in.

But tonight was a night to watch people and think about the song we learned in Bible School - red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight...Jesus loves the little children of the world.

I Told You So

Steve is on the left, Ed in the blue shirt and Clif in the yellow.

All smiles. They actually admitted to enjoying it.

Of all the titles I could have come up with for this post, this one seemed most appropriate. Early on in my child-rearing years, I discovered the joys of pedicures. Every now and then, I'll even splurge and get a manicure to go with it, but pedicures are figured into the budget every month. Every now and then, I'll invite DH to go with me because I know once he steps into the salon, he'll be hooked. But he always comes up with excuses and has, for the better part of 13 years, won.

That all changed last weekend when we went on a couples night out. You have heard me write about my friend Julie (who has twins and a 5 year old) and Lynne (and babies make six). When Julie and I took Lynne out for her birthday, we started talking about how we all liked pedicures (that's what we got Lynne for her birthday, by the way) and how our husbands would enjoy them if we could only get them in the chair. Well, that was all it took. We planned the salon, the date, the way we were going to get them out of the house, even lined up a few babysitters. The hardest part for me: keeping it a secret until the big day.

I haven't been blogging during the Christmas season, so I guess you'll have to come back...but I absolutely, beyond the shadow of a doubt, hate surprises. In fact, I loathe surprises. I even go buy all of my own Christmas presents, wrap them up, and put them under the tree because I can't stand to be surprised...yes, I'm a control freak. So in order not to tell Dear Husband, I had to totally block it all out of my mind. Then, I stayed busy all day Saturday so I wouldn't spoil it. We arrived right on time to pick up Lynne and Clif...who had decided he'd rather eat at a different resturant for dinner. Nope, notta, sorry...gotta go to Sydney's (it is, after all, strategically placed right next to the nail salon). Finally, it was time to reveal our secret (yes, the one I actually kept for a WHOLE. ENTIRE. MONTH thankyouverymuch!

The funny party was watching their faces and them realizing that yes, we were serious, and yes, they really did have reservations in seats right beside each other, and no, we weren't having our nails done, we were only watching. If one would have walked away, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum would have followed. But noone wanted to be the first to walk...so in they go. The rest is history.

But I won because Steve (and Ed and Clif) admitted that yes, he did enjoy it and yes, his feet feel much better and yes, he will be back. For someone who routinely works 60-80 hours a week, personally I don't see how he's lasted this long without one. I do, after all, only look out for his best intersts : )

You Might Be a Redneck if...

you owe the dump $2.25. Jeff Foxworthy would be proud to tell this story. Unfortunately, it's mine and it's true. Yesterday was a hectic day in my house. Oldest Child had to be at a "fall festival" (in 100 degree heat...yeah, right!) to dance, then work till 3:00, then DH and I were going on a couples night out with our two couples friends (another post for another night...have to wait for the pictures...) and Youngest Child was spending the night across the street...whew!. So while I'm walking around the fall festival with Youngest Child, DH calls to ask if I'll go with The Dude to take the trailer, filled with various and asundry junk to the dump. Of course I can fit that into my schedule today...afterall, it's only been sitting loaded on the trailer for, oh, over a MONTH now...of course I'll ride with The Dude to the dump. TODAY.

Let me just say here and now if I ever get purse snatched, the robber will get away with about $1.22 because I don't carry cash. During the week, we never go anywhere; on the weekend, I've got the ATM card to take care of everything, so who needs cash?? So as we are about to set out for the dump, I go to what's left of the cash from the carnival...$3. I go raid DH's wallet...gee... another $3...wow!...I'm up to a whoppin' $6. Still not sure that's enough to cover the cost of what we're dropping off, I ask The Dude who is single and has no cares in the world if he has any cash I can borrow until I can go uptown to the bank...you guessed it...$3. Now seein' as how I'm fitting this trip into my already crammed calendar, our bank is not in the same direction as the dump, so I really don't want to take the time to go all the way to the bank, come all the way back by the house, and then head to the dump. So all together, I'm heading to the dump with a grand total of $9.00.

As we set out, I'm trying my best to remember exactly where said dump is...I remember going there awhile back; I was driving and my neighbor was telling me "turn here", "turn there" until we were there. All I remember about the drive is that we turn right by a funeral home and that road dead-ends into the dump. OK...we're in business now. So we finally see the funeral home, we turn and low and behold, we dead end right into the dump. Turns out, the dump is about 1/2 block from where The Dude is now gainfully employed. We drive onto the scale, the Nice Lady hands us our blue card that looks kinda like the card you put in your windshield when you're picking up from carpool lanes...we go drop off our precious materials ('scuse me, I mean junk)...and we drive back around to Nice Lady so she can weigh our truck once it's empty and we can pay for the privledge of using the dump. So we get to the window and give her our carpool card, and she says, in her very southern accent, "That'll be $11.25." I look at The Dude; The Dude looks at me. I look down in the dark crevices of my purse, he digs through his pockets...I recount our nine one dollar bills (and again, come up with NINE)...The Dude asks Nice Lady if they take credit or debit cards. Of course not, that would be too simple...who goes to the dump and whips out the Gold American Express?? Still smiling, Nice Lady says, "How much ya'll have?" The Dude says "nine". Nice Lady says, "Oh, just give me that, that'll do...just remember to next time you're here to add it onto your bill". But of course, Nice Lady, absolutely, anything you say...thank you so much for giving us credit at the dump. And you can bet your bottom dollar, being the honest, down-home person I am...next time I take a load of valuables to the dump, I'll be armed with cash and will remember to tell Nice Lady to add $2.25 to my bill.

The Times, They Are A-Changin'

Oh, yes, they are...but not enough for me to have another baby. It seems like only yesterday we were bringing Oldest Child and Youngest Child home from the hospital and buying all the new, handy gadgets that came along with newborn/toddler/small children. Because far be it from me to short-change my children in any way. But in the big scheme of life, TEN years is a lot of baby inventions. I've only been over here for less than twenty-four hours, and I've already noticed so much that my kids didn't have...not because they were deprived, but because it didn't exist, or it was too new and too expensive to buy.

Case in point, these babies have a video monitor in their room that I can use for my private detective agency when I retire. It swivels, it rotates, it moves all around...all with the touch of a button...and the babies don't even notice it's there. Yes, they had video monitors way back when, but they were gianormous and had a price tag to prove it.

Also, the sippy-cups are so new and improved that they have more than one piece to the lid and this slides into that and this locks here and you slide it there, and PRESTO, you have a leak-proof sippy-cup. Only problem is, you have to know what slides where and what locks to what in order to make it leak-proof. Probably a good thing Lynne still has some time left on her carpet cleaning warranty.

And the goodies that come in "bite size, easy to pick up pieces"...if all of this had been around way back when, my girls would be healthy eaters, not junk-food junkies. Bite size this, and finger size that, and steam-while-in-the-bag veggies...who'd-a-thunk??

Where on earth was On Demand when my girls were little and all I could amuse them with after hours was Sesame Street videos. Now, all you have to do is push a couple of buttons (have to ask Oldest Child because I'm still technogically challenged...) and you can have 24-hour Tom and Jerry cartoons. Your child addicted to Dora, click the button and you can finally get a 5-minute reprive...ANYTIME OF THE DAY you want it. Dora not scheduled to come on, click the button and there she is. It's amazing, I tell you. Not, however, amazing enough to make me want to go back and start over at square one, but amazing, nonetheless.

And I thought the diaper Genie and heated wipes were up and coming. I'll stick to my memories, come over here for a sippy-cup lesson, and stay on the count down until the Empty Nesting begins, thank you very much !

DON'T LEAVE ME WITH THE BABIES!!

If you go over to Lynne's blog (and babies make six) will probably find some happy, cheery, jumping for joy mom singing Leaving on a Jet Plane, because she is off to Las Vegas for a much-needed weekend of rest and relaxation.

I, on the otherhand, will be greeted by this when I arrive at her house for the weekend.



Missing from the picture is their three-year-old "big" brother, Austin. Stay tuned this weekend for updates, SOS messages, or pictures of Austin taking care of the triple threat because I couldn't handle it...just kidding, Lynne...go, enjoy your trip, sleep till your heart's content, order room service just because you can, request dinner seating AWAY from all parents will children under 18 because this is your weekend to do whatever you want, whenever you want. Enjoy!

Never Ask, "How Bad Can It Be?"...

...because you may just find out the answer to that question. I haven't mentioned before that Oldest Child is on her middle school dance team. Except in the Alumni News meme of the last post. Perhaps I haven't mentioned that fact because I was hoping if I kept my head buried in the sand or put on my rose-colored glasses then it would just go away. If you have read the meme, then you know that Oldest Child can accomplish anything she sets her mind to. This will serve her well once she is out of the house and on her own. While she is living under our roof, however, it causes much strife and many conflicts. This spring, she decided she wanted to try out for the dance team. She has always been a swimmer; swimming since she was in first grade with quite a few first place ribbons to show for her efforts. But the older she got, the more she wanted to spread her wings and try other "sports". First of all, when I said, "If it's OK with Dad, then it's OK with me," never dreaming in a million years her dad would say yes. Silly, silly me.

So, OK, now I have to hope against all hope that there are, oh, 3 or 4 or 15 girls trying out who are better than Oldest Child. My obligation was fulfilled, I said she could try out, she didn't make the team, keep on swimming, sweetie, keep on swimming. Well, after I watched her after ONE practice and seeing the routine ONCE, I knew that this wouldn't work either. Especially when I found out she only had to beat out HALF of those trying out, because there were only 30 vieing or 15 positions. It was then that I realized swimming would be put on hold for awhile because we were trying dance team. I could hardly contain my excitement when she found out she won.

Now that school is in full swing and she has dance practice on Tuesday and Thursday, and when you're 13 and you're choosing captains for the dance team on the first practice, you can only hope to imagine all the drama when THE FIRST PRACTICE OF THE SEASON, THE ONE WHERE THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO CHOOSE CAPTAINS WAS CANCELLED!!!!!!!! (The dear, sweet sponsors, who just happen to be teachers at the middle school had a meeting...go figure!) So the choosing of the captains had to be postponed until Thursday; hate it when that happens. So we come home on Thursday and she tells me who the captain of the majorettes (who also practice with the dancers) was and she told me the name of a captain of the dance team. I was just getting ready to give her my, "You did you best, you will still be a good dancer" spill, when she told me that there were co-captains for the dance team and she was the other captain!!
And joy shown round about the earth.

I should have thought back to all Oldest Child has accomplished in her mere 13 years: took the training wheels off of her bicycle when she was four because her little boyfriend didn't have training wheels so she didn't need training wheels either. One of the youngest members of the swim team. The unicycle incident. I don't even watch her on the trampoline because I would hate to have a heart attack at my young age...but if the cheerleaders can do it, so can she. She was voted President of her youth group at church because she decided she wanted to, so that's what she did. If the trend continues, I'm thinking that perhaps a lawyer or doctor could come into the family and she could be rich and buy her mama a beach house because her mama was the one who carried her to and fro all the practices for all the teams she is on.

At this rate, I can hardly wait for high school : (

Alumni News (You Choose)

I have been challenged by BooMama with an Alumni Newsletter meme...and far be it from me to back down from a challenge. If you have yet to read BooMama's newsletter, stop right now and go here. If you've never read BooMama, shame on you. When you go visit, stay for awhile and visit. I promise you will be rolling in the floor before you leave. My good friend at And Babies Make Six and I have been known to call each other (1) to discuss the latest BooMama blog or (2) to make sure the other takes time to read it today because you really do need a good laugh and BooMama has provided it for us...but I digress. The challenge is to write an alumni newsletter article about yourself in the perky, show-off-y tone that always gets published and leaves you walking away shaking your head because you know in your heart of hearts that noone's life can be that perfect. The second "article" is much, much closer to the truth. So here goes. Consider yourself tagged (yes, especially you, Lynne), drop me a note so I can go check it out.

Article 1: Fabthemayor and Dear Husband recently celebrated fifteen years of marital bliss this past April. In those fifteen years, they have raised two amazing children. Oldest Child is 13, in the 8th grade at the local middle school where she is a member of the dance team. She loves to show off her school spirit and the dance team is such a creative way to do so. Youngest Child is 10 and in the fifth grade. She enjoys the outdoors, reading, and spending time with family. The girls are the highlight of her day and she enjoys each of them for her own unique qualities.

F has lived in the Atlanta area since relocating to Georgia upon completion of her Bachelor's degree. She had the priviledge of staying home with her daughters during the formative years. She has since re-entered the workforce as a teacher in an area public school. She enjoys the daily challenges this career brings as well as the rewards of each of her students.

Together, the family enjoys camping, NASCAR races, vacations at the beach and weekend get-aways to the mountains. If you ever find yourself in the Atlanta area, stop by, have some sweet tea, and chat awhile.

Article 2: Fabthemayor and DH just celebrated fifteen of marriage; she must have married when she was but a mere babe. While some days she would like to think she brought someone else's daughter home from the hospital that fateful day in 1994, Oldest Child is too much like her mama to be a case of "switched at birth". From her sassy manurisms to her whiny voice, to her rolly eyes and huffy breaths, Oldest Child is, to a "T", Fabthemayor's child. At this point in her life, F is actively seeking a circus that needs a good unicycle rider, because Oldest Child can accomplish anything she sets her mind to (including, but not limited to, learning how to ride a unicycle even though we don't have a stitch of pavement anywhere on our property). Determination will take Oldest Child far in life...if, in fact, she makes it past...oh, 13.

Youngest Child is much quieter and shy-er than Oldest Child. She is sitting in the background learning from her sister's mistakes. (OC often refers to YC as the suck-up). Youngest Child would be content to stay home. in her pajamas. all day. every day. period, end of discussion. Youngest Child keeps Fabthemayor hopping because she is the absolute opposite of her sister. On the occasion that Youngest Child chooses to go outside, give her a sandbox or a pile of dirt, water her occasionaly, and feed her three times a day, and she is 100% satisfied. Youngest Child will be a vetrinarian when she grown up because she wants to rescue every stray animal that comes onto our property and thought DH was cruel because he drew the line with the newest cat that arrived. He was all for us keeping the cat, feeding the cat, etc. He only had two ground rules...the new cat lives OUTSIDE and we cannot, at all, period, under any circumstances, take New Cat to the vet...four animals at once is more than plenty.

Fabthemayor has heard others referring to "Empty Nest" syndrome, and can hardly wait to experience this. Her plans for the future include every possible Bike Week across the country as well as being the camp ground host for various camp grounds across the United States. If you are ever in the Atlanta area, call or come by...I'll leave the girls with DH and we'll go get something to eat and talk about everyone else (I mean catch up).

Free is Good

DH and I have opposite views of "free stuff". His motto, "If it's free, take very little". My motto, "Free is good". Case in point, if you haven't heard the new Monk and Neagle CD, stop reading this post right now and go click on their button. I was one of the lucky ones who submitted my information in time to get a free copy sent to me...no strings attached. Listen and enjoy and tell others about it. How simple is that?? Only the CD came a few weeks ago and got put in a "pile" in my kitchen. I was cleaning off the counter today and found it, put it in my CD player in the kitchen, and haven't stopped listening to it since. I have two favorite songs on it - the title song is amazing. But being the mother of a soldier, The Soldier Song spoke to my heart.

So listen from the button while you're blogging, and next time you visit your local Christian bookstore, treat yourself to this wonderful CD. Thanks to BooMama for hooking me up, and thanks to Brian at Monk and Neagle for proving that yes, once again, free is good : )

Kids are so Literal

subtitled, "I Saved a Frog Today". I know you are waiting with baited breath to see where I'm going with this one. But I didn't quite realize until this afternoon, outside on the playground, with a new group of students who have only been fourth graders for...oh...three days now. Before that, they were mere third graders, just how literal kids can be. Being in the classroom, I always have to be on my toes; it's never the same, the teacher beside me today had to administer the Heimlich maneuver because a student was choked (yes, turning blue, eyes rolling in the back of his head choking). I merely saved a frog.

Remember when we were little and we were fascinated when we found a live animal on the playground?? And it was the best thing in the whole world?? A little girl found a frog today. A frog who was no bigger around than a quarter....who I'm sure was petrified by his new-found friend. Of course, she had to show her new pet off to her friends. She even let a couple of the friends hold her new treasure. But once I noticed what the commotion was about, I went over and decided that our new little friend would be off if we set him free to enjoy his life as he knew it before his instant stardom. So very calmly, I told her to put the frog down and set him free...thinking she would put him back where she found him, or up near the school building in the grass, or over in the shade under a tree. Silly, silly teacher.

She dropped him...right there. in the middle of the playground. in the woodchips, with five or 3,245 fourth graders standing around ready to pick up the frog and show off their new treasure. Whatever was I thinking?? Luckily I think pretty quickly on my feet. Our future veterinarian picked up her friend from the woodchips and together we carried him off of the playground, over to some big rocks, behind the gym, in the shade...where he actually stands a chance against the fourth graders.

My Very First Meme E-V-I-R

Seein as how I'm new to bloggin and I'm really supposed to be organizing registration papers and other fun stuff like that, I found a neat meme over at Big Mama's and decided that since ya'll don't know a lot about me, what better meme to start with than one about my high school days. Sit back, relax, enjoy...don't tell me how hard you laugh, though...
1. Who was your best friend? Had to be Debbie, Anne, and Leslie. Leslie, Debbie and I all worked at the local Dairy Queen together, so we knew each other pretty well. Anne was in most of my business classes and we eventually went to college together. Still am very good friends with Debbie and Anne.
2. Did you play any sports? No. Seein' as how I'm not sure who in my home state reads this blog (or who will read it in the future), I'll just leave it at no; no explanation other than to say that my girls will be able to participate in whatever sports, after-school activities, etc., that they want to, and I will take them to and pick them up from said activities because it will never in a million years be too far for me to drive.
3. What kind of car did you drive? The good ol' trusty family Ford LTD.
4. It's Friday night. Where were you? Working at the Dairy Queen. My boss thought it was because I was trustworthy; little did he know it was because I didn't have a life.
5. Were you a party animal? No, actually I never went to any parties when I was in high school (yes, that's the honest truth...and I never tasted alcohol until after I graduated...)
6. Were you considered a flirt? Absolutely not. I was the one who went around and fixed everyone else's relationships. I was always the one people confided in.
7. Were you in the band, orchestra or choir? No; refer to answer #2.
8. Were you a nerd? No, but I sure was friends with enough of them.
9. Were you ever suspended or expelled? No, I was one of the good ones.
10. Can you sing the fight song? Absolutely. I may not have been at any of the football or basketball games, but I was working my little fingers to the bone at the DQ, listening to the games on the radio, singing along as the band played.
11. Who was your favorite teacher? I have two. Mr. Boone who taught English Lit. He instilled my love of reading, poetry, and old movies. I cannot watch Audrey Hepburn without thinking of him. And Miss McClung who was my homeroom teacher. She showed me her love and understanding not only as her student, but also her friend.
12. Who was your school mascot? The Cavalier. And not that you asked, but we were blue and gold.
13. Did you go to the prom? Yes, my senior year. Went with Steve because he was one of the few guys on the "approved" list I was allowed to choose from.
14. If you could go back, would you? Not just no, but *%*&^*&^% NO!
15. What do you remember most about graduation? We were standing outside the gym getting ready to march in. A girl named Charlotte was standing behind me and she had tears in her eyes as she said, "Do you realize this is the last time we will ever be together like this?" Then I lost it.
16. Where were you on Senior Skip Day? I was allowed to "skip", but had to stay home and watch TV.
17. Did you have a job your senior year? Yes; I had been working at the DQ since I was a sophmore.
18. Where did you go most often for lunch? Nowhere; we weren't allowed to leave campus.
19. Have you gained weight since high school? I plead the fifth on this one.
20. What did you do after graduation? Went to Concord College with a group of so-called "friends". Turns out Anne from #1 was the only friend in the whole group.
21. What year did you graduate? 1984
22. Who was your Senior Prom Date? Steve
23. Are you going/did you go to your 10-year-reunion? Went to my 10 year and oh, the stories I could tell...like the girl who spent more time with her high school sweetheart than her current husband, went home to TX and filed for divorce, moved back to WV and married her sweetheart...didn't go to the 20 year...Anne from #1 got married two weeks before the reunion and I decided I'd have more fun at her wedding.

So there you have it...from then to now. So much more fun now, though...kids and all.

Which One?

Today was the first day of school in my county...yes, I know we started the day after Labor Day and had three recesses a day and still learned. But today was the first day students came back to class, and all day I was reminded of the sermon I heard at church on Sunday. A lay person who went on one of our mission trips delivered the sermon and it was all about how we are all put here to touch certain people, and will we or will we not know the people we are meant to come into contact with.

Now this is not my first year in the classroom; my first students are juniors in high school now and I don't know why this hasn't dawned me before. But when I stop and think about my job, the pressure is monmental. What if I never know the particular one I was meant to touch. What if I have a negative affect as opposed to a positive affect. I pray daily for guidance. I've always said I don't teach reading, writing and arithmatic; I teach children who need love, care and nurture...if they happen to learn reading, writing and arithmatic, good for them.

So here's to a great year; here's to love and learning; here's to love of learning. Check back in 179 days for a recap.

A Girl's Gotta Do...

...what a girl's gotta do. That's why when I realized it was almost my friend Lynne's birthday, we decided a girl's night was definitely in order. We, meaning our little group of three friends (of which I am the oldest, but you can keep that between us, 'kay??) Between the three of us, we have 10 kids...one set of twins, one set of triplets. Not only am I the oldest of the group, I am also closer to being an empty nester than my two dear friends...oh, wait...is it bad to be thinking about the empty nest syndrome when my kids are 13 and 10??

Keep in mind...it is now the end of July. My birthday came and went; we were going to get together over dinner to celebrate. J's birthday came and went; since we didn't get together for dinner for my birthday, we definitely have to do it for J's birthday. Yeah, right! Read above paragraph about the number of kids we share between us (especially the triplet one!). So when we looked on the calendar and realized that Lynne's birthday was quickly approaching, a girl's night out was definitely in order.

So off we went to a nice, quiet resturaunt. We must've had that look in our eyes, because the hostess sat us in the back of the resturaunt. We could have cared less what we ordered; we had noone to answer to but ourselves. noone to feed but ourselves. noone to take to the little girl's room but ourselves. So we were able to sit, relax and enjoy each other's company.

In the course of our evening, being the multi-tasking mothers that we are, we crossed some of the "to-do's" off of our list. We planned J's DH's 40th birthday party (not until March, but it's never too early to start) and we planned Lynne's next, ahem, ahem, birthday party. Not gonna tell you which one it is, but it requires a party with lots of advance planning. Plus we planned next month's Supper Club, which will include our DH's (and pictures). So we not only got to enjoy each other's company (I can't begin to tell you how many times the waiter came by and asked if we were sure we didn't want a refill on our drinks...tea and Coke...), but we also turned into party planners, we laughed, loved, and if the resturaunt hadn't been ready to shut down, I'm sure we could have a good handle on world peace.

So Happy Birthday, Lynne...remember, I get my pick of seats on the Party Bus next year. Happy belated birthday J - yes, you are still much younger than I. Thank you both for your love, your support, and your friendship.

Murphy's Law, part 2

Alas, I am back from the big shopping spectacular and extravaganza. Let me first say that I was a very good girl and stayed well within my budget. Also let me say that, as usual, the girls ended up with more than I did. Partly because I have gained weight and refuse to buy the size clothes that actually look attractive on me and partly because the stores where we live were already having their back to school sales.

But my mission was accomplished; I came home with a very cute and comfortable pair of linen slacks and jacket for open house plus a cute top for another pair of slacks I already had but didn't like the shirt I bought to go with it.

Why Murphy's Law?? Because I was all set to spend, spend, spend until my heart's content...and pay cash for the purchases because that's what I do now. No more credit cards for me, no-sir-eee bob. I found lots and lots of cute pants/capris/walking shorts but nothing fit. If I would lose the weight I need to, I could fit back into the pants already in my closet and wouldn't need to go shopping in the first place. So the lesson I learned today...exercise, exercise, exercise. That way, I'll have a whole new plethora of clothes from which to chose, all at no additional cost to DH : )

P.S. I went walking after dinner tonight.

A-Shoppin' I Will Go

OK, OK, I confess - I have been looking forward to this day for a very long. long. long time! Only now that it's here, it is even better than I imagined. Being a teacher has certain perks, one being that while I'm back-to-school shopping for the girls, I also get to BTS shop for me. Guess where I'm going today! I think I have mentioned before that DH and I are (trying to) committed to Dave Ramsey and his Financial Peace University, which means that yours truly can't go out anytime she deems necessary and buy stuff...like a new outfit or 10. I am the world's worst shopper because I can justify anything...and I do mean anything. Want a new car? Come talk to me and I'll have you talked into it in no time flat. Want to go on vacation, come see me and pick out your destination. All justified, because I am very good.

But anyway, I have been dreaming of going BTS shopping for three weeks now, which in my timeframe, is a LIFETIME! Before my commitment to FPU, it was not uncommon or DH to call me during the day to check in, "Whatcha doin?" "I HAD to go shopping"..."For what, you weren't going shopping when I talked to you earlier today". "I know, I got bored and remembered we needed ( ) (fill in the blank) so I went to get it, and while I was there, I remembered we needed ( ) so I picked it up, too, so I saved a trip to the mall, and the girls needed ( ), so now I don't have to come back and pick that up, either...and it was all.on.sale!". At which time DH sighs deeply and mumbles something about having to go watch grass grow or something.

So I have been looking forward to my little shopping extravaganza for quite some time, and it is finally here. Only the little added bonus I mentioned, Oldest Child is gone with my girlfriend so she's unavailable for the trip, and Youngest Child hates to shop. So I get to go all by myself! I have it planned in my head exactly what I need to buy, exactly how much it should cost, and I will put the blinders on and not look in any other stores that are not on my list. And as if going by myself were not reward enough...DH is on his way as we speak to get his 4-wheeler out of the shop from a major service overhaul. Which, in my calculation, means I get even more money to spend than originally thought because, afterall, he did get to spend money on him...and his 4-wheeler is a pleasure item, and my BTS trip, is business. Who wants to have their kids sit in a classroom with a teacher who looks like a slob?? Reread the above paragraph about my being able to justify anything.

Now, it is time to set off on my adventures. Of course I'll post later to let you know how it turns out!