What's Goin' Down in J-Town...

The Tigress Stalks Her Prey...

2011-07-06T16:13:00.001-04:00

Great dinner last Friday night at one of our favorite restaurants (where we got a "Happy Birthday" card from the staff instead of a "Happy Anniversary" card). Movie plan thwarted by the fact that 1) I ate so much I could barely move, thus inducing some serious sleep in the car partially due to the fact that I stayed up until 3 am reading "The Help." When we got home, K fell asleep on the couch instead of going to get the kids (WHAT?! Who thinks, "Hey -- I'm gonna lay down for a few minutes before I go pick up the kids at the in-laws. That sounds like a great idea. I'm sure I won't slip into a sleep-induced coma."), so at 12:30 am -- which is about 5 hours after my mom's normal bedtime -- I wake up and realize that I never heard kids come in. In a panic, I wake K up, who is snoozing on his respective couch, and he tells me to call my parents.

I am still peeved about this.

If you're the one who lays down instead of going to pick up the kids (which he volunteered to do, I might add), I think you should have to suffer the consequences. I mean, when I didn't mail my mother-in-law's Mother's Day gift or my father-in-law's Father's Day gift because I kept misplacing it, I called them and told them it was my fault the gifts were so late.

So, anyway, last night at dinner, we were talking about our past anniversaries; we came to the conclusion that very few of our anniversary dates/trips have turned out according to plan, so I guess this anniversary will go in the books as another.

(For the record, I did call my parents, but I threw K under the bus while he stood there -- totally told my mom that he laid down on the couch instead of coming to get the kids and fell asleep. K is famous for his sleeping in my family, as he can 1) fall asleep faster than I can inhale a Little Debbie Christmas Tree Cake, 2) sleep through anything, and 3) sleep as long as you will let him. My mom was not surprised -- or upset, for that matter --,but I felt better.)

Anyway, on to the next installment: Stalking.

Once I started working at The Home Depot, I made it a point to talk to The Hot Guy as often as possible. It seemed to me that he came by my register a lot, but I couldn't get verification of this because the front end management wouldn't let Bess and I work together; we were always on opposite sides of the store. (This trend continued once we started teaching together... not sure why...) I started out in the tool corral but was quickly moved to either lumber or garden after an unfortunate incident involving a man was looking for a wood file.

Now, my dad had lots of tools laying around when I was growing up, and I'd always been fascinated with this thing that looked like a giant nail file with a point. When the man asked me where the wood files were, I figured he was talking about this kind of file, so I told him where they were located. He came back three different times, and I sent him to three different places. I even asked the guy in charge of the tool corral where a wood file would be. (For the record, I was right the first time.) Mr. Wood File came back yet again, and I'd had about enough.

"Sir, I've told you everything I know. The only kind of file I really know anything about is a nail file, and we don't sell those here."

That was my last day in the tool corral.

What did I learn from this? When looking for a certain tool, if YOU don't know what the tool looks like, then maybe you shouldn't be working with it.

As a cashier, you have the option of making an all-call when you need a manager's help, or you can call a manager directly. I made quick work of finding out The Hot Guy's personal number, and when he was working, I always called him first.

He always responded.

I took this as a sign.

One day, as I was slaving away at the garden register, I needed a manager to come get money from my till. I dialed The Hot Guy's phone, and he came out to pick up my money. After he left and I stopped drooling, I realized he'd left a small leather-bound black notebook by my register.

It was fate.

Of course, I opened it up and looked through it first, just in case it contained the locations of the bodies of people he'd killed or something like that; I had to make sure he was going to pass the background check that my dad would inevitably do on him if we ever went on a date.

It appeared clear -- just some work doodles -- so I dialed his number again.

Me: "Hey, you left your little black book with all of your girlfriends' numbers in it. It's out here at my register."

Hot Guy: "Thanks. While you're waiting, why don't you put your number in it. That way, it will have at least one number in it."

Ohh- he was smooth. He had game. He also now had my number because I wrote down as quickly as I could, just in case he changed his mind.

I had more game, apparently, because he didn't run away or "lose" my number.

He called me later... a date followed the next evening (March 23, 1999 -- yeah, I know -- I can't remember my own phone number. Why can I remember that date?!)... and another that weekend... and that was the beginning of us. There were certainly some obstacles... like that whole girlfriend thing (did I mention that? He had a girlfriend. Oops.)... but they worked themselves out.

That July, we went to eat Cajun food, I got a nasty case of hives (seems I'm allergic to cayenne pepper), and I met his parents the next day, covered in scary red whelps. A little over a month later, he came over to ask my dad for my hand in marriage; a concept that seemed sweet, except he kinda had a panic attack (maybe a vision of the future with three kids, two dogs, and a wife who doesn't clean house), and I basically had to talk him down from the ledge (or at least, out of the swing on my parents' carport). Another month passed before he got up the nerve to ask -- and the proposal deserves an entry all to itself.

I'll save that one for another day. :-)

The Story of Us

2011-07-01T11:47:00.002-04:00

Today, K & I are celebrating ELEVEN years of marriage.

Eleven years.

Holy cow.

First, I never thought I'd like any boy this long. Ok, sometimes, I don't like him very much, but I love, love, love the man all the time. I never thought that would happen.

Second, I never thought I would find a man who would be able to put up with all of my, um, sparkling qualities for more than a few months at a time. I'm not saying I'm difficult to deal with, but... I might've been told that once or twice... or a couple hundred times.

I've been thinking a lot about our story the past couple of days, and I have to say -- we've never been normal. I've always thought that our relationship would make a great movie, which made me think of the movie, "The Story of Us" starring Michelle Pfieffer and Bruce Willis. Back in the day, when that movie came out, I made K take me to see it in the theater.

He was not really excited.

Normally, he picks the movies, and I tag along. To say our tastes in films is different is like saying Antarctica is chilly.

Anyway, one day, if our kids want to know how we came about but don't want to ask because they're teenagers and don't want to talk to us more than neccessary, I want them to be able to find "The Story of Us: The K & A Version."

Let's start at the beginning: The First Meeting

I was a senior at Clemson, having just moved home to do my student teaching. My friend Bess -- one of my college roommates, teaching partners, and general partner in crime -- had gotten a job at The Home Depot.

Not the most obvious choice for an English major, but whatev.

B wanted to introduce me to this guy, Van. I was always on the lookout for The Perfect Man, but generally, I found The Weirdo, The Suction Cup, or The Uninterested Man... so B decided to help me out.

Around January 1999, I decided to get a job at The Home Depot, too; why, I will never fully understand because at that time, my idea of home improvement involved cleaning my room.

Anyway.

I got a part-time job there in February, and I had to go to this higher level institution called Cashier College to learn how to run a register. One evening, after my educationally enlightening experience at Cashier College, I was supposed to pick B up at work and go back to her house for the evening. The plan was for us to casually bump into Van so she could make the introduction, as he wasn't really excited about the idea of a blind date.

When I got to HD (I'm sure I was over-dressed), we started walking toward the back of the store where Van was working, unaware of the extraordinary opportunity about to befall him. As we were walking toward the plumbing department (or maybe it was millwork -- I can't remember which, but still -- either place just SCREAMS "romance," right?), we saw a cluster of people standing in front of the kitchen cabinet display.

We walk up to the group because B is the friendly sort, and there, leaning against this giant, orange, rolling metal ladder, is The Most Beautiful Man I Have Ever Seen.

*Cue the angels singing and heavenly spotlight.*

I'm pretty sure my mouth dropped open slightly, which is super-hot and shows total nonchalance.

B introduces me to him and the rest of the small group, mentioning that I will be working there when I finish Cashier College; I shake his hand, hoping I'm not drooling or breathing loudly through my partially open mouth.

I managed a smile, I guess, and he said something grown-up, like "Look forward to having you working here."

As we walked away, my head was spinning, and when I finally regained my power of speech, I interrupted Bess, who was chattering on about Van, and said:

"I'm going to marry him."

B: "Who? Van? You haven't met him yet."

A: "No. That guy we just met."

B: "You can't marry him. He has a girlfriend. And he's an assistant manager. And Van is so nice."

A: "I don't care. I'm going to marry him."

B gives me a look, as we are not typically boyfriend-stealers, and we proceed on to meet Van, who was a super-nice guy but appeared to possibly be scared of me.

Now, I had no idea if The Hot Guy had any interest in me at all, but I couldn't get him out of my head. That night, I outlined B's new mission: to find out if The Hot Guy was serious with his girlfriend, to find out his basic story, to pretty much super-secret stalk him so I could figure him out. Reluctantly, she agreed; the rest was up to me... once I finished Cashier College and was bestowed with that beautiful orange apron, of course.

Tune in later for the next installment in "The Story of Us": Stalking My Prey

I'm Almost Back...

2011-03-07T14:21:00.002-05:00

Let me tell you something, my peeps.

Whoever said having three kids is not much more work than having two kids lied.

Maybe it's just my kids (which is possible), or maybe it's just my ADD (which is also possible), but for the past 2 years, I have struggled to find time to do anything besides what is required so that I don't appear to be a total failure to the outside world.

Blogging hasn't been on the top of my list, as the outside world rarely reads my blog, BUT I have missed it... and I am campaigning to make a comeback in the next month or so...

Stay tuned...

Now I Remember...

2010-07-28T13:18:00.007-04:00

why I love blogging so much. I can do something I enjoy while being productive, which makes me feel less guilty for not doing the other things that I should be doing but don't enjoy... like dishes, laundry, and assorted other duties of someone who lives with 4 other people who don't like to do any of that stuff either.

Currently, the kids are pretending to "rest" -- except Sam, who is like his father in the fact that he relishes a 6-hour nap in the middle of the day, so I have a few moments to breathe... which I need, considering that Sam has given me heart failure twice in the span of less that 24 hours.

Both experiences are actually parenting firsts for me -- something I find unusual considering I thought I'd already covered a good bit of territory with the first two. Anyway, yesterday was the first time I've ever been at home alone when one of the kids got hurt bad enough to bleed.

I should preface this by saying that I do not normally mind blood, but if it happens to come from one of my children, it totally freaks me out. The first time Ethan busted his lip, I hyperventilated and almost passed out.

Over time, I've learned to at least semi-disguise my reactions, and I actually thought that maybe I was getting over my fear until Sam bounced his face off of the ledge of a stair yesterday.
I didn't throw up, which surprised me, but:

1- I did set him on the counter and leave him unattended while rummaging through the freezer for one of those bleepity-bleep frozen "boo-boo" compresses that are always everywhere to be found when I don't need them -- like when I'm looking for the real ice packs to insulate a cooler -- and nowhere to be found when I need them -- like when my youngest offspring is bleeding profusely from the mouth.

Thankfully, Sam was too distraught to realize that he was finally up on the counter, so he didn't try to jump off, climb to the top of the cabinet, or clear my everyday dishes off of the shelves.

2- He did, however, help himselves to some grapes, which didn't concern me until I realized that the grapes hadn't been washed and that he was probably consuming some kind of pesticide/grocery store funk that would make him sick.

This freaked me out even more... leading me to think it was a good idea to try to rinse his mouth out... which seemed to be working until I realized that I was patting the lip he had just busted on the stairs.

Oops.

At any rate, Sam hasn't tried to run up the stairs once since yesterday; I think he learned his lesson... or I scarred him for life. One or the other.

Today, Sam decided to top his bleeding escapade yesterday by drinking water from the toilet.

Just typing that makes me gag.

The toilet fascination is something I don't understand. Ethan had no use for the potty whatsoever when he was a toddler. In fact, he avoided it -- and wearing diapers -- if at all possible.

Laney was different, which I chalked up to her being Laney. She didn't drink out of the toilet, but she did like to play in it. I'm pretty sure I posted pictures to the blog when she combed her hair with water from the toilet, which also made me gag as well as become a firm believer in the importance of sanitizing one's children.

Sam, well... he just does things his own way. First, he swiped my favorite Tervis tumbler. Normally, this would have immediately resulted in me retrieving said tumbler, but I was in the middle of solving some other critical delimma.

Sidenote: I'm pretty sure Sam planned this out in advance as revenge for me making him come inside without his prior approval.

Anyway, I hear rustlings in the bathroom. I don't worry immediately because the toilet lid is down, and Sam isn't one to exert enough effort to open it.

Until today.

Also, Sam normally just throws things... like his siblings' toothbrushes (replaced. No worries.)... into the toilet. He hasn't really shown interest in the water... just in destroying things via potty exposure.

Until today.

Today, Sam marched into the half-bath downstairs, just steps away from me, opened the lid, lowered my precious Tervis tumbler into the putred, disgusting potty water (although, I will take this moment to say that the toilet was flushed, so it could have been worse...), scooped up an unknown amount, and drank it.

Vomit.

I know this because I sent Laney to see what he was doing. She waited until he finished his cup o' vileness before she wrenched the cup out of his hand and brought it to me, proclaiming, "Mommy! Can you believe Sam just drank potty water?!"

No. No, I can't.

So I run into the bathroom to find Sam -- who apparently likes potty water -- trying to scoop some into his hands to drink.

Dry heaves and spine chills.

For the love. Is one uneventful day (or twenty) too much to ask?!?

My Sabbatical is Over...

2010-07-27T14:26:00.008-04:00

So, it's summer, again... almost a year after my last post... and I'm laying down while the kids "rest" (code for shriek and run amuck behind closed doors while I pretend I don't hear them). I'm looking forward to a lovely mid-afternoon nap, nestled in the cool retreat of my sheets, where -- with a pillow over my ear -- I can't hear E & L beating the ever-living tar out of each other. I'm laying there, so happy that I could almost spit because I'm getting a nap, and I CAN'T GO TO SLEEP!!

Ridiculous.

As I lay there with my eyes closed, trying to think of something on my To Do list for today that I actually want to do, it dawns on me.

BLOG!

Yeah... so it's been a year... but that doesn't really count in cyberspace, does it? Anyway, here I am, cursing my sudden sleeplessness but kind of excited to rejoin the land of the blogging.

Let me start by saying that whoever made up that stupid adage about having three kids not being much different than having two should be kicked in the teeth. It wears me out. Ethan is 7 now, a lover of all that is rule-following and orderly. I did have to write him out of my will last night because he said that his daddy is the smartest person in the house.

I chalked it up to him being 7 and ignorant as to what "smart" means, but he certainly is not getting any of my boundless teacher wealth until he figures out which end is up.

Laney, the diva, is now 4 years old, and just as full of her princess power as ever. She lives to torment E, who in turn lives to make sure she follows every rule ever written in the history of man. She loves him, loves him, loves him, but sometimes, she just can't help herself. She has to break a rule... or seventy... and E just cannot abide the lawlessness.

She drives him absolutely nuts.

(Incidentally, I also wrote her out of the will because she said I was 3rd smartest -- Daddy, then Ethan, and then me. Absurd.)

Between the two of them, I have my hands full most days... but wait! I've got a great idea!! Let's throw in a third kid, disguised as a sweet child for the first 15 months of his life, and see how that goes.

Sweet baby Sam... oh where did you go? Sam has hit the Terrible Two stage early... by about 9 months. No one really believes me... with his cheek-pinching little grin and his frat boy curls, he pulls the women just like his older brother, but let me tell you -- he is, as of this point in his life, the devil in disguise.

Just ask the elderly lady he kicked whilst throwing a tantrum in CVS this morning.

(I had not written him out of the will up until that point because he has yet to voice a ridiculous opinion about the intelligence ranks in this household, but I'm in the process after he showed his rear this morning.)

This summer, for example, has been much like I think a summer with the circus would be. I fondly remember summers past when I was able to relax at the beach with a book or browse the local farmer's market or bookstore without much of a scene.

I should mention that those days are gone.

Recently, while on a trip to the grocery store, I ran into a friend. We stopped to chat for a few seconds, and when I turned around, Sam had emptied the entire endcap of Hot Wheels cars into the buggy.

All 47 of them -- in 4.2 seconds flat.

He, of course, smiles that sweet-Sam smile and starts his favorite chant (besides "Mommeee. Mommee. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy." -- which I'm convinced is really his way of cursing): "Mine. Mine. Mine."

This chant is vaguely reminiscient of the sea gulls in "The Little Mermaid." Drives me insane because whatever he has usually is NOT his.

And so begins the processional of the mortified mommy (that'd be me) pushing the screaming meanie (that'd be Sam) through the rest of the store (because I refuse to make another trip) while other customers curse me, scurry from my path, and murmur things like, "Bless his heart! His mommy must've hurt his feelings!"

My bad. Sorry for not buying 47 Hot Wheels for the kid when the safety warning clearly states, "Small parts. Not intended for children under 3." He's not even 2!

We, of course, had prayer meeting once we (quickly) got to the car.

Should I mention that Sam stopped crying right after we exited the store? Par for the course, people.

Through all of this, I have one recurring thought: I am pretty sure that none of this was really covered in "What to Expect When You're Expecting."

Ode to Summer's End and Day 118...

2009-08-17T08:41:00.002-04:00

Well, the mobile blog thing was short-lived because I couldn't ever remember what day I was on, and I kept deleting the sent emails without thinking, "Oh, wait! I need to know what my next blogging day is!" Snikes.

Speaking of snikes -- where the heck did my summer go?!?! One day, I'm laying by the pool, watching my kids frolic in the water. The next, I'm getting up early and wearing uncomfortable clothes and trying to remember where I saved my syllabus from last year.

*Sigh.*

I am not ready for this.

Day 118:
1. the sense of relief when I finally get everything in order in my classroom.
2. spending days and days of my summers in junior high and high school, reading TEEN magazine from cover to cover and planning my back-to-school wardrobe. I know -- so nerdish, but it fed my inner-OCD over-achiever to chart out every outfit in my closet on index cards.
3. discovering some of my old journals from high school while cleaning out my classroom and laughing at how excited I used to get about the first day of school. I might possibly have been una nerda.
4. opening new school supplies.
5. no meetings this morning. :-)

Day 116 & 117

2009-07-23T16:24:00.002-04:00

I'm telling you- this mobile blogging thing is pure genius!! Just set out on a road trip, but I'm not driving, which means I get pretty antsy. I can't really read to entertain myself because I get carsick. The kids are talking 90 mph, and I would normally be getting pretty dang annoyed right about now, BUT I can pop my earbuds in and blog the miles away while my less technologically-savvy parents drive, eat Fiddle-Faddle, and discuss the merits of upcoming rest areas.

By the way- for those of you who know my parents, I can barely contain my laughter. I am riding in the back seat... well, the middle row of seats, like I'm 12 again, but I swear- Carl is driving and Hazel is riding shotgun. (For those of you who don't know, Carl was my dad's dad; Hazel is my mom's mom.)

Carl is cruising at 60 mph down the interstate, oblivious to the fact that everybody AND their grandmothers have passed us... I'm not sure he realizes that the speed limit has indeed changed to 70 mph on most areas of the interstate.

Hazel is lamenting about leaving her blue dress at home. It has palm trees on it, so I doubt we're really missing anything, but she's downed almost an entire box of Fiddle- Faddle in mourning.

They both have on their game faces and weird sunglasses; however, they are NOT wearing matching outfits, for which I am grateful.

Day 116:
1. Ipods on road trips. Dang, they save my sanity! :-)
2. Getting my first Walkman back in the day. Thought I was some kind of hot stuff when I could listen to my Poison tape on field trips and car rides.
3. My dad is -- as I type -- wearing my Pop's Solar Shades and a sun visor. I laugh every time I look up in the front seat.
4. Driving as opposed to riding.
5. Family vacations. Without them, I'd be short some blogging material.

Day 117: Odes to Funny Vacations
1. Disney with my entire fam when I was in 8th grade. To this day, I can't see a luggage cart without momentarily seeing my Uncle Jimmy skating across the parking lot, scooter-style, with his Dwayne Wayne shades flipped up.
2. The vacations- two that I can recall- where something happened to the car and/or my dad didn't make hotel reservations, so we ended up coming home the same day.
3. The Weeks/Hunt family excursion to Toronto. I have never laughed so hard in my entire life. What happens in Toronto stays in Toronto. :-)
4. Family trip to Sapphire Valley. I never met any boys on vacation because we vacayed at retirement hot spots. On this particular trip, Mary and I went horseback riding. Pretty sure no one else has ever witnessed my mother on a horse.
5. Family trip to Maggie Valley, yet another 70+ resort area. I hit a golf ball out in the middle of a six lane highway playing miniature golf. Then Jay hit me in the head with his golf club on his backswing. Some one should've explained to us that we weren't gearing up for Hole 13 at The Masters, OR Toad shouldn't have made us watch all that golf on Sunday afternoons growing up. Had no idea that teeing off in putt-putt requires 1/50th the strength of teeing off at a regular golf course until I watched my dad turn scarlet as he watched that ball bounce across six lanes of heavy traffic.

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Day 114 & 115

2009-07-22T09:42:00.001-04:00

Day 114:
1. Getting a new cookbook.
2. Having a random peace lily grow out of a pot that I thought just had dirt in it.
3. Coordinating party ware.
4. The obsession our dog Zoe used to have with my mom. Freaking hilarious bc Mary didn't return the favor.
5. Scaring Bob, my crazy Manx cat who never really liked me.

Day 115:
1. Hootie, my well-trained Tiger Oscar that I had my sophomore year in college.
2. Great Danes.
3. The satisfaction of having a clean kitchen... which rarely happens.
4. The greater satisfaction of having a clean dining room table... which happens even more rarely.
5. Sam's big gap-tooth smile.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Day 112 & 113

2009-07-21T23:21:00.001-04:00

Really digging this mobile blogging thing. Laying on the couch, watching a movie, blogging away. Fabulous!!

Day 112:
1. My Holiday Barbie collection.
2. Finding out that there's a new Wonder Woman ornament coming out.
3. My NY Yankees ball cap.
4. My crazy striped hat and matching scarf.
5. Early morning on the beach. If only I didn't have to get up early to see it...

Day 113:
1. A good mystery.
2. When a book that I thought would be just ok turns out to be fabulous.
3. Training K to put the toilet paper roll on the right way.
4. Remembering that I have a new (and magnificent) purse stashed away in the closet.
5. A break of cooler, unseasonable weather in the midst of the freakin' hot summer.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Day 110... And maybe then some...

2009-07-21T23:07:00.000-04:00

Ok, I'm way behind. Just looked on the calendar, and I should be on Day 202. I am on Day 110.

Holy cow.

Day 110:
1. Laney's flower lamp
2. Sleeping in my childhood bed. So dang comfortable.
3. The kids' building blocks that are a modern version of the cardboard blocks I used to play with in the nursery when I was little.
4. The stage/boat that was in the nursery when I was little. On one side, it was a platform with steps on either side. Turn it over, and it became a boat. Awesome.
5. The rows and rows of nail polish in every color of the rainbow at beauty supply places.

Day 111:
1. Finding out that the hair gods have not discontinued my favorite hair product.
2. Sam falling asleep in my arms.
3. Kissing my sleeping kids on their foreheads.
4. Sleeping stretched out across the bed.
5. My plastic- excuse me, acrylic - champagne glasses. Bought after New Year's our first year married for .25 per glass. Glitter in the stems; gold stars on the glasses. Make me happy every time I see them in the cabinet. I love festiveness. :-)
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

109

2009-07-21T21:16:00.001-04:00

1. Laney doing trick riding on Ethan's 4-wheeler. Girlfriend is fearless.
2. Laying on the couch under a blanket.
3. Laney pretending to a zombie or a robot by holding her arms out in front of her and repeating "Dombie" or "Wo-bot." Very convincing.
4. Ethan's never-ending quest to get rid of Laney. Tonight, he decided that she & K could get lost in the jungle, and Laney might get eaten by an anaconda. Nice.
5. Knowing my kids miss me when I'm gone. Ethan cried and cried when we came home from the beach. A little disturbing that he thinks we're going to up and leave him, but comforting that he doesn't always think we're mean, nonetheless.
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108

2009-07-21T18:54:00.001-04:00

1. Laney & Sam playing hide-and-seek... in the pack-n-play. There's really nowhere for them to hide... so there's really no seeking going on... but they don't seem to mind...
2. Mobile blogging. Now that Ethan has discovered games on the computer, I don't get to use it very often. :-P
3. Watching the dogs get dive-bombed by our dog-birds in the backyard. The dogs don't deserve it; the birds are just territorial... but they think twice before climbing out of the pen. :-)
4. Pretty green ferns. Especially ones that don't die even though I have killed most of my other plants.
5. Sitting on Granny B's porch.
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106-107

2009-07-21T18:42:00.001-04:00

Day 106:
1. Spending time with Linda & David. Great food, great conversation, lots of laughs. They are my favorites. :-)
2. Watching Ethan & Laney make memories.
3. Ethan's theory that my dad's job is playing golf. :-)
4. Watching Sam entertain himself. He just babbles and babbles... and every now and then throws in something that sounds like "Naney" but in a really nasty tone. I'm convinced he practicing telling Laney off for when he gets bigger.
5. Realizing that, although I have no groceries, I have just the right ingredients to make the side dish recipe I just came across.

Day 107:
1. The fact that Max & Ruby (of cartoon fame) seem to live by themselves even though they are, like, 5 and 7.
2. Secretly hoping that Max one day drop-kicks Ruby in the teeth because she is one bossy bunny.
3. The song that Sid the Science Kid sings to his mom on the way to school.
4. The song that Sid the Science Kid sings with his friends when he gets to school. It involves dancing and makes me happy.
5. That PBS has finally joined the current century and made some cool cartoons.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

Holy cow!!

2009-07-21T08:18:00.001-04:00

I am a technological genius!!!
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For the love...

2009-07-21T08:15:00.001-04:00

Please let this work...
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Days 101-105

2009-07-20T23:06:00.003-04:00

Ok, I'm over the pretty little blue symbol for today, so I'm just going to get back into the Days of Grace listing and try to shush the OCD voice in my head that is whispering, "But you put the seal on the other posts. This one isn't going to match..."

Day 101:
1. good running socks
2. Sam having teeth!
3. Laney's VBS picture that, ironically, shows what a devil she is...
4. Laney and Ethan asking repeatedly since yesterday if we can start packing for the beach
5. Ethan asking for a flea collar. Apparently, he's been seeing flea collar commercials on TV and doesn't want to get them. :-) Shows what kind of faith he has in my housecleaning ability...

Day 102:
1. Ethan also wants to get those closet organizing hangers because (and I quote) my closet "is a big mess. We need to clean it up." Yeah, ok, kid. How about you start with your room before you start making a To Do list for me?!
2. Laney's random obsession with lines from TV shows. For two weeks, she called K and me "Mr. Noodle" -- as in Mr. Noodle from "Elmo's World." Her current obsession is "Ferb, I know what we're going to do today!" from our favorite cartoon, "Phineas and Ferb." Drives Ethan beserk.
3. Speaking of "Phineas and Ferb" -- Laney and Ethan named their skim boards "Phineas" and "Ferb." I had to write the names in silver paint pen on the skim boards so no one would call them by the wrong names.
Give you two guesses whose OCD idea that was...
4. Ethan swimming like a fish! After two weeks of swimming lesson hell last summer, I'm glad he's finally gotten over his bizarre love-hate relationship with the water...
5. people watching at the beach. I swear -- there is NOTHING like it. I think they hire people to come down and entertain me when I'm there. No way those freaks are real.

Day 103:
1. days at the beach where all I really have to do is read, eat, and make sure I remember to keep sunscreen on...
2. finally being able to go to the beach and not come back looking like a lobster...
3. the waiter's concerned face at the crab leg buffet when he realizes I've been eating crab legs for two hours straight...
4. beating my old record of 46 with an impressive score of 50 crab legs...
5. Sam's fascination with throwing things out of his pack-n-play

Day 104:
1. Sam's love of biting K. He acts like he's going in for a snuggle and then strikes like a viper. So sweet and chubby that you never expect it... :-)
2. zerberting my kids' bellies...
3. introducing my kids to new things. Took them to the fish hatchery (odd, I know), and they were just amazed. Laney did almost get mobbed by some angry fish... kept trying to feed them one pellet at a time. They don't really appreciate the frugal approach...
4. watching my mom lug her ginormous mustard-yellow purse on a hike. Not sure if she thought there would be a place to shop at the top of the trail or what...
5. Ethan and Laney wearing my tshirts to sleep in. I used to do the same with my dad's, but it just makes me laugh to see which ones they choose.

Day 105:
1. looking forward to the future...
2. witty people...
3. looking for recipes...
4. cooking with my kids. Reminds me of cooking with Hazel and Pearle when I was growing up... always makes me smile... unlike memories of cleaning house with my mom... my kids will probably never have memories of that, considering my status as a non-housecleaning kind of woman...
5. God is good. :-)

I have no idea what I'm doing....

2009-07-20T22:53:00.002-04:00

I spoke too soon in one of my last blogs, saying I had all of this time to blog, and then...

Nothing. :-P

As I logged on tonight, I saw a little cell phone on my log in page. Says I can register to mobile blog. So I click on it.

I just got a new phone, a Blackberry, that does all kinds of things that I don't understand yet, and I'm thinking -- "I could update my blog while I'm toodling around! I LOVE multi-tasking!!!"

Well.

That might be possible if I could figure it out. I don't know the difference between MMS and SMS; all I know is that SMS is like a regular text. MMS? IDK. Make Ma Swear? At this point, that's about all I can come up with.

SO -- I choose the email option. Had to set up an email address.

Enter Problem.

I set it up, didn't write it down, and now I can't remember what it is. I'm sure I can find it somewhere in my settings, but really -- I've got people to fight on Sorority Life. I don't have time to switch to Go-Go-Tech-Nerd mode (not that my limited knowledge of technology ever lets me fully get into that role...) and dig through a bazillion pages and settings.

I tried to make posting easier so I could catch up on my Days of Grace and all that, but alas, the technology spirits are against me...

Where Am I Finding All This Time to Blog?

2009-06-16T13:27:00.004-04:00

Oh -- that's right! I've totally neglected cleaning my house or doing any laundry. K will be patient with this until probably this afternoon... so less than 1 week into summer vacation, he's going to start asking me what I did today. :-) You should see his face when I smile blissfully and say, "Nothing." :-)

Day 95:
1. Laney almost always says, "Mommy, I love you, too." when she's declaring her love for me. What makes me happy about this is that usually, this is the first line of the conversation. Example: I am sitting here, playing on the computer, when she walks up out of nowhere, hugs my leg, and says, "I love you, too, Mommy." I didn't tell her first, but she always pretends I did because it is Laney's world and we just live in it.
2. The park we love has new bathrooms that don't make me fear that lurkers are going to run off with my children.
3. Going to the farm market down the road and getting the good grits.
4. Finding three maxi dresses that I love AND that fit me the right way.
5. Smelling fresh peaches always reminds me of eating frozen peaches at Hazel's growing up.

Day 96:
1. Sam loves swinging.
2. Laying down for a nap with Laney and realizing that she is not always a ferocious beast.
3. Spending an entire day in my swimsuit without fixing my hair or putting on makeup because my pool peeps don't care.
4. Laney's independent streak. It makes me laugh every time she sets somebody straight with her version of the truth.
5. Laney's ability to say the one thing that will make Ethan flip out. For example, when we got in the MV last week to go somewhere, Ethan said, "I got in first, Laney." Without batting an eye, she said, "No, I did." which sent Ethan's OCD-must-follow-the-rules-and-report-exactly-as-things-happen personality into spontaneous combustion mode. He starts flipping out because he knows she didn't get in the car first but she refuses to back down. I'm sitting in the driver's seat, laughing. This must've been what life was like for my mom.

Day 97:
1. Cherry pie.
2. Winning the sauce award at The Camerons' cookout.
3. Summer reading contests.
4. Watching summer storms from the back porch.
5. Laney's first friend sleeping over (outside of relatives, that is...)

Day 98:
1. A den with warm lamp light.
2. Our sorta-scary leopard blanket.
3. Not having to do too much cleaning before the cleaning lady comes over.
4. Snuffles from the dogs.
5. Finding "the spot" on each dog that makes the back leg thump.

Day 99:
1. laughing so hard I snort.
2. the middle part of pancakes where the butter and syrup have saturated the dough.
3. Napolean Dynamite. Freakin' hilarious.
4. Watching Keith do the laundry while I play on Facebook and concoct the blog.
5. Freshly starched clothes.

Day 100:
1. Waking up to summer light outside the window.
2. Sitting in the rocking chairs on the back porch with K.
3. Sam's I-only-love-my-mommy stage. He's going through it right now, and while it can be exhausting at times, it is also sooooo endearing. I love that kid. :-)
4. The fact that my basil plant hasn't joined its cilantro cousin in The Garden in the Sky.
5. The surprise peace lily (I think) that is growing randomly in a pot I thought was empty. If it is, indeed, a peace lily, then it is the one from my grandfather's funeral, which makes me happy x 100000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000.

2009-06-14T18:54:00.004-04:00

Day 93:

1. Kissing my babies goodnight when they smell like sunscreen.
2. Laney's obsession with her "wobber gobbles." Idk if she means "rubber goggles" or "water goggles" but either way, she reminds me of Hamburgler when she says it... which makes me laugh.
3. Sam sitting at my feet, going "anhhhhhhhhhhh" for minutes without stopping. I think he's going to grow up to be a Gregorian monk, which will delight his daddy.
4. Knowing the bookmobile comes tomorrow.
5. Anticipating introducing Laney & Ethan to the wonders of the Bookmobile.

Day 94:
1. Hoping that the bookmobile will have a position open when I retire.
2. Watching Sam's face light up when he sees Ethan.
3. Knowing I don't have to get up for school in the morning.
4. Spending the afternoon chatting with Pat and Jenn. I think we could solve the world's problems.
5. Sam beating Ethan over the head with a foam sword. And all this time, I've been worried that he wouldn't stand up for himself...

I Can Almost Smell Freedom...

2009-06-09T22:50:00.004-04:00

Well... it's that or the Michelin plant near by. Kinda smells like pork rinds in the air (which makes me want to vomit) when things are chugging along over there.

Anyway, school is officially out, but I am taking a 2-day class -- which, by the way, I am hoping counts towards my recertification since I unearthed my teaching certificate while packing away my school things, only to discover that it expires next year -- which is over tomorrow.

Then -- then I will be able to sleep a little later, stay up later, and lounge around in the sun all day.

Yeah. Whatever.

Day 91:
1. My refrigerator doors. Packed with pictures and drawings and such. Makes my heart happy.
2. Yellow and green together. Used to hate those colors together as a kid. Use them in my kitchen now. Makes me think of summer all year round.
3. That Ethan still thinks having $3 is the equivalent of being pretty dang rich.
4. Rocking chairs on the back porch.
5. Not caring that I am going to be the same shade of translucent in August that I am in May because I just don't tan...

Day 92:
1. Anticipating the Girls' Trip.
2. A low-key night out after a long day.
3. My students rockin' their EOC tests! So proud of them!
4. Laney & Ethan's obsessions with wearing my tshirts.
5. This crazy head-shake stage Sam is going through. He gets tickled, and starts shaking his head back and forth and laughing. I don't get it, but it makes me laugh, too.

La La LaLa... The Year is Almost Over

2009-05-05T09:20:00.005-04:00

*Um, I just found this that I didn't publish from earlier... I guess I was anticipating doing some reading this summer? IDK -- a lot of these were books/magazines I loved reading during the summer growing up. I have surmised that I might have been a super nerd.

In honor of my ADD, I am blowing off things of importance to blog again today... :-)

Day 86:
1. The book fair
2. Nancy Drew books
3. The Hardy Boys books
4. Sweet Valley High books
5. Sweet Vally Twins books

Day 87:
1. Little Women.
2. Mary Poppins. (The book, not the movie.)
3. The Little House on the Prarie series. (Again, books -- not TV.)
4. The Boxcar Children series.
5. No Flying in the House.

Day 88:
1. The odd but interesting biography books about people like Albert Einstein and Eleanor Roosevelt that Hazel had on her back porch.
2. Encyclopedia Brown books.
3. The Gymnasts series.
4. YM magazines.
5. Teen magazine.

Day 89:
1. A Farewell to Arms.
2. Summer of My German Soldier.
3. Jane Eyre.
4. Wuthering Heights.
5. Wayside Stories from a Sideways School (or something like that... I never could get the title right...).

Day 90:
1. Highlights magazines.
2. Having my own library card.
3. Leaving the Bookmobile with bags of books.
4. Laying under the window unit at Hazel's house, reading Bookmobile books all afternoon.
5. Filling up my reading contest brochure with book titles.

Sigh...

2009-05-04T09:19:00.003-04:00

Finally... I can breathe! All of my pressing, major commitments are over, except planning Laney's birthday party. I can get back to doing nothing, blogging, and generally just entertaining myself instead of meeting deadlines and fulfilling commitments...

Day 81:
1. knowing there is a light at the end of the tunnel, even if I can't see it...
2. speaking of lights and tunnels... that roller coaster at Dollywood...it's pitch black, set in a coal mine... seems like you're going to run head-on into a train (big freakin' headlight) only to take a dive at the last minute. One of the best rollercoasters ever. Almost wet my pants.
3. The Mindbender at Six Flags. Anybody remember that? Was always almost certain that The Mindbender was totally unsafe, but I always rode it anyway. Well, at least, until the last time when the freakin' cars stopped in the middle of the loop upside down. Almost had an aneurism. Won't ever ride it again. But I loved it/hated it while it lasted.
4. Summer Six Flags trips with my church youth group.
5. The one time I didn't go with my youth group, I went with a friend and her family in high school. Ate a cherry-topped funnel cake after riding the swings. Yakked in her mini-van on the way home. Horrible yet hilariously funny memory. Sorry, Jennifer.

Day 82:
1. calendars with the days of the year numbered. Not the days of the months -- but the day of the year. For example, Day 82 is actually March 23. I know this because my school planner calendar has the days numbered. Probably so I can count down the days until summer.
2. the idea of summer. Two weeks into it, I'm going to be wishing for school to start because I will be spending my first summer at home with three kids BUT... right now, three kids in a house seems better than getting up at 6 am...
3. picnics on the carport with my mom and Jay during the summer.
4. even better -- picnics on the carport with my mom and Jay when Mary would take us to Billy's to get a treat and a glass bottle Coke for lunch.
5. Billy McAdam's grocery. If you aren't from around Townville, you might not know it but as a child, it was heaven. Ice creams, bottled cokes, candy bars, chips, and (as a teenager) gas -- all that I could charge to my dad's tab.

Day 83:
1. days when not doing anything seems infinitely better that other options...
2. having a day after one of the aforementioned days when I don't kick myself all day for not having done anything the day before...
3. knowing I have things to do and just not caring...
4. realizing that the world will not stop if my TO DO list isn't checked off...
5. knowing it drives K crazy that these days come in the middle of periods when I really can't afford to take a day off... :-)

Day 84:
1. pink lemonade in glass pitchers with lemon slices
2. cake squares
3. those little molded mints at showers
4. the glass cups and saucers my church used to use for showers
5. finger sandwiches

Day 85:
1. Bag-A-Bargain is over. Technically, on this day, I was really just dropping my BAB stuff off... but since this is in retrospect, I am grateful that BAB is over for the year.
2. being highly motivated to clean out closets I would normally never touch so that I can meet my BAB donation requirement
3. knowing that I do not have to price label another item for at least 6 months
4. having a BAB closet now where I stash everything so it's in one place for next year -- I love it when I'm smart!
5. not being in charge of BAB. Shelby & Regan do a great job. And I'm so glad it's them and not me!

More Make-ups...

2009-04-28T21:04:00.003-04:00

Ok, I think it might make more sense if I pick up in March and work forward...

Day 70:
1. personalized notecards
2. looking forward to a trip
3. FINALLY finding a stylist who understands my crazy fro
4. 1.5-2 hours of me time
5. the day before a hair appointment

Day 71:
1. leaving the salon with hair that can go public
2. not having to wear my hair in a knot on top of my head
3. hair glaze :-)
4. chatting with Alexa because she makes me laugh
5. catching up on my magazine reading while sitting under the dryer

Day 72:
1. push-ups
2. the weird ice cream things from Billy's with a gumball in the bottom of the cone
3. ice cream sandwiches
4. Snickers ice cream bars
5. fudgesicles when I'm on a diet

Day 73:
1. walking around Charleston at night
2. finding not one but THREE pairs of boots on sale
3. having so many shopping bags I can't carry them all
4. having time to try on clothes I like
5. dessert at midnight with Jenn & Julie

Day 74:
1. more shopping
2. spending time with my family
3. ULTA
4. making the drive home seem shorter by taking a nap
5. walking back in the door, greeted by three little people who love me

Day 75:
1. dinner with old friends who know how weird I am and still like me
2. Sam's fountain o' pee at dinner. Mortifying yet hilarious. Definitely blackmail material.
3. realizing that K left the kids in their pjs all weekend and not really caring
4. scrubbing the kids down with everything short of AJAX after a weekend in their dad's care
5. catching up on gossip/what's happening/stories

Day 76:
1. finally finding storage for Laney's room
2. taking out bags of toys
3. finally not having toys overflowing everywhere
4. getting to the bottom of a toy bin on Cleaning Day
5. having some semblance of order

Day 77:
1. Mission Friends
2. having a library card
3. the smell of the library
4. taking my kids to the library
5. checking out stacks of books. Makes me feel productive.

Day 78:
1. Sam's penchant for being naked
2. Laney's crazy hair designs. 4 pigtails = HOT in her world.
3. Ethan's affection for patterns
4. sitting on the couch, surrounded by my kids, being loved
5. holding hands with Laney and Ethan (Sam's not a fan yet...)

Day 79:
1. flower gardens
2. vegetable gardens
3. not having to water flowers
4. not having to pick green beans in the heat of summer
5. working with Hazel in her garden when I was growing up

Day 80:
1. early morning VBS
2. Red Rover, Red Rover
3. dodge ball
4. painting ceramic figures in VBS crafts
5. 3 words: puffy paint tshirts. They rocked back in the 80s...

Day 112 & 111

2009-04-24T23:31:00.004-04:00

So inspired by having time to breathe today that I'm going to blog again! :-)

Day 112:
1. Sam's mohawk. Freakin' hilarious!
2. Laney's version of songs. If she doesn't know the words or can't say them, she makes them up. Makes for great rides in the car. :-)
3. Taking care of business so my plate is a little less full.
4. Post-it notes.
5. A full night's sleep in a good bed with the right kind of pillow and great sheets. :-)

Day 113:
1. A fresh pedicure.
2. My new earrings that I bought in Charleston.
3. Laney's tan lines.
4. The fact that Sam still prefers me to carry him over crawling. :-) Sad, I know, but I am sooooo not ready for him to grow up.
5. Planning vacations.

Dang.

2009-04-24T12:52:00.005-04:00

I am a little embarrassed.

I have completely fallen off the blogging wagon... as well as the Facebook wagon, the friend wagon, and pretty much every other wagon.

I mean, I don't even know where the time has gone. The past month and a half has been the single busiest period of my life. Last thing I remember, I was blogging about Lindsey's birthday. Next thing I know, it's April 24.

So.

I'm going to make up my time and my daily "Things To Be Thankful For" posts.

Just not all at once.

I'll start with yesterday and today:

Day 113:
1. It's Ethan's birthday.
2. Ethan was born on Shakespeare's birthdate. As an English teacher, this makes me ridiculously happy. No one else, apparently, thinks this is impressive, but the importance is not lost on me.
3. Birthday candles. They make everything festive.
4. Lunch with Ethan's class. I could never be an elementary school teacher because the kids have no sense of personal space, BUT his class is just precious! I'd like them for at least an entire day.
5. Dinner for breakfast. One of E's favorites.

Day 114:
1. Getting my car back after a week of driving rentals/borrowed ones.
2. Skin's dogs for lunch.
3. Really good slaw. Gah. Could eat my weight in it!
4. Being able to blog after a 6 week stress-imposed hiatus. Makes me feel like I've accomplished something.
5. Express mail. Otherwise, none of Ethan's party stuff would've gotten here in time...

Day Sixty-Whatever: An Ode to Princess Lindsey

2009-03-10T18:04:00.004-04:00

Today is Lindsey's 16th birthday! That makes me feel very old because I was 16 when she was born. Anyway, Lindsey was the first grandchild born in the next generation in my family... and I had been the youngest for 16 years... so I didn't much like that I lost my "spot" when she was born... but I loved her anyway... for which I know she is so grateful. :-)

After I got over the fact that I was no longer the baby and learned to like small kids, I decided that Lindsey was, in fact, a lot of fun because I could teach her all sorts of bad habits. She was a funny kid, and very smart, so we bonded.

All these years later, we are probably closer than we've ever been. Lindsey and I have a lot in common, like our uncommonly translucent skin and our royalty complexes, and she makes me laugh. She has turned into an amazing young woman despite the fact that I probably scarred her severely by tormenting her while she was growing up.

Because I love her so much (and she reminds me to update my blog when I forget), I am making today's blog all about her. Happy Birthday, Iz! :-)

1. The time Lindsey came to stay with us in Knoxville, and I lost my keys in Target. Zelda the Fierce and my cell were in the car; Lindsey was at my house -- which was in a strange city... which freaked her out. I know she didn't think it was funny, and it wasn't at the time... but thinking about it now makes me laugh because she called my mom -- three states away -- for help.

Like Mary could find her way to Knox-Vegas by herself.

2. Lindsey's love of reading. I'm an English nerd, and I love that we can discuss books. We don't always agree -- she hated Twilight, and I loved it -- but it's always a good time.

3. Having the best-ever baby-sitter built into my family. My kids L.O.V.E. her, and I love her, too. She's like the SuperGirl of baby-sitters.

4. Lindsey's funny quirks. I love a quirky teenager -- shows that they can think for themselves. Lindsey can definitely do that -- just ask her. She has an opinion on everything...

5. Lindsey. In general, she makes me happy, and I love her. The end.

WHAT?!?!

2009-03-09T23:16:00.002-04:00

Where'd the underline go? It was there a minute ago, I swear!!!!

Days 63 & 64 & 65 & 66 & 67 & 68

2009-03-05T12:49:00.010-05:00

Why is everything underlined while I'm typing it? Is it going to post this way? These are the kinds of things that drive my OCD alter-ego crazy. I'm not even sure I can finish the post because THERE'S NO UNDERLINE OPTION ON THE TOOLBAR SO I CAN'T TURN IT OFF.

Day 63:

1. Feeling warm beach sand between my toes.

2. Sunglasses as a hair accessory.

3. Big purses.

4. Long dresses. I don't have to shave, AND I don't have to sit gracefully.

5. Making progress.

Day 64:

1. Sam saying "DADADADADADA" -- especially in the middle of the night.

2. Good sales on Diet Coke.

3. Salt & vinegar chips.

4. Organizing my closet.

5. Knowing spring is just around the corner.

Day 65:

1. Laney's pigtails.

2. Laney's faux hawk. One of her top 10 hairstyles ever.

3. Ethan in his wrestling singlet.

4. When Ethan shows his muscles.

5. Sam's love for his bouncer thingy.

Day 66:

1. Popples.

2. My Holly Hobby sink and stove.

3. My pink Big Wheel.

4. Monchichis.

5. My Barbie Dream House with the elevator.

Day 67:

1. Getting dressed up after I've worn my hair in a bun/knot on top of my head for 574 consecutive days.

2. Grown-up nights out on the town.

3. Laughing my head off with my girls.

4. Taking over the Ta-Ta ball.

5. Killer heels that don't hurt my feet after a night of dancing.

Day 68:

1. Warm nights.

2. Bare legs and sundresses. At this point in my life, I'm past the point of caring that my skin is maybe only slightly darker than this computer screen. I hate wearing tights/leggings.

3. Turning the air on for the first time since the fall.

4. Being mistaken for a 20-something. With 3 kids and a mini-van, I take my kicks where I can get them. :-)

5. Having a To Do list that is achievable.

Days 61 & 62...

2009-03-03T19:48:00.003-05:00

Day 61:
In honor of our March 2 snow day...
1. building a snowman with my kiddies. Nevermind that I do all the work, nor that my snowman-building attention span will only allow me to make one snow "little person." The point is that my kids think it's the greatest thing ever. The building of the snowman is superseded only by the putting on of the face. Two years ago, we used Lifesavers... which -- f.y.i. -- bleed when placed in snow. This year, we used raisins, the end of a cucumber, cherry tomatoes, and some cappuccino pirouine cookies. Would've been great, but I kept having to remind Laney not to eat the face-making supplies... plus, the hair (cookies) and nose (cucumber) and part of the mouth (tomatoes) fell off approximately twenty minutes after completion.
2. making snow angels. The post-snow angel chill from snow in your pants and wet clothes plastered to your back is totally worth it.
3. exhausted post-snow adventure sleep... for the kids as well as myself.
4. wrapping my kids up in 27 layers of clothes so that they look like the kid from "A Christmas Story."
5. the way fresh snow looks... you know, before dogs/kids/vermin make tracks across it.

Day 62:
It's been one year today since my Pop died. I am not normally one to observe these kinds of anniversaries; I never understood, until now, why people dwell on the day they lost a loved one. Pop is the first person in my immediate family to die in all of my 31 years, and I'm here to tell you that while you learn to function again, it still hurts just as much today as it did when my dad called me at school last March. Some days are good, and I can talk about him without tearing up. Some days... not so much. Every day, though, I am aware of his influence on me, of the zillions of things that I loved about him, of how blessed I am that I had so much time with him... and those are the things I celebrate.
1. Pop's love for hats. Bless him, he didn't have much hair (ever) when I knew him, so he always wore hats when it was cold. My favorites were the ones that looked like those newspaper reporters wore back in the day... specifically his black & white tweedish one... but he was also known to wear a newsboy cap every now and then.
2. Pop's smile. I've probably blogged about this before, but Pop had a great smile. Lit up his face. When he walked into a room, whether it be on a visit or into a sanctuary, his smile could almost physically light up the room. It was amazing. I learned a lot about presence from him. He definitely had it, and his smile was part of his secret formula.
3. The Bible he brought me from the Holy Land. It's one of my most treasured possessions.
4. The way he loved my grandmother. Y'all, you've never seen a man sit on as many mall benches, waiting for the woman he loved to shop. I don't ever remember hearing him say one cross word to her or about her. Even when he wasn't quite aware of what was going on or who was who, he always knew and asked for my grandmother.
5. Pop's funny little habits. Until the last few years of his life, I don't ever remember seeing him wear anything other than a dress shirt and usually a tie. He walked really early in the mornings, and he carried a stick. Just in case. He always wore a bathrobe and slippers around the house. He wore the same aftershave for as long as I can remember -- some version of Old Spice. He took a nap in the recliner on Sunday afternoons. He loved to trade cars. He didn't listen to the radio. He loved sweets and nuts. He often cracked himself up, which cracked me up. He couldn't hear worth anything as he got older, and he did not like wearing his hearing aid. These are the things I love to think about, to remember, to laugh about with my family because Pop was just Pop. You got exactly what you saw, nothing more, nothing less.

Days 59 & 60

2009-03-01T22:31:00.002-05:00

For the record, I didn't publish that last post until Friday. It was originally "A Week's Worth... Plus 1 Day," but when I didn't finish it on Thursday, I had to change the title. I'm not cheating, I promise.

Day59:
1. unexpectedly running into old friends.
2. finally being able to wear that really cute dress I bought.
3. finding a purple shirt to wear with my orange & purple scarf.
4. my orange and purple scarf. Whoever designed it knew that I have a hard time finding clothes for Clemson games.
5. scarves on clearance... which means I can buy 47 scarves for the price of 1. Doesn't make me feel guilty.

Day 60:
1. SNOW DAYS!!!! I really don't like the idea of having to go a day when it's warm to make up the time... but snow days, minus that, rock!
2. huge, ginormous snow flakes.
3. making snow cream. I have no clue how to make it, really, but we used to make it with Hazel when I was little.
4. the 12'2" snowman that Aaron L. made for us (being Jay, Julie, Jenn, and me) when we were little. It was beyond huge. We have a Polaroid of it somewhere.
5. my red snowsuit. I loved that thing; begged to wear it even when it wasn't snowing. (Mary refused that request every time.) It was a one-piece snowsuit with white furry stuff around the hood. I could make snow angels all day and never get snow in my pants.

A Week's Worth... + 2 Days...

2009-02-26T13:01:00.009-05:00

Geez. The past week has been crazy hectic, and right this minute I have approximately 734 things/people that are demanding my attention, but I am through being responsible and pleasant. I just realized that the more I try to accomplish, the more stuff will appear on my To Do list. I'm rebelling against... I don't know what... but I'm rebelling.

Day 50:

1. biscuits and gravy.

2. bracelets. Lots of bracelets.

3. notepads.

4. new EXPO markers for my board.

5. finding the remote for my ELMO just when I think the black hole on my desk has sucked it in.

Day 51:

1. a night with nothing to do.

2. string cheese.

3. magnetic picture sleeves.

4. bow ties on little boys.

5. seersucker.

Day 52:

1. Laney's insistence on calling my grandmothers by their first names. She's so sassy!

2. people watching. It's a favorite pastime in our family. I used to feel bad about getting such a kick out of people's weird ways, but I figure I've given other people-watchers a laugh or two...

3. dancing in the car when a good song comes on. Ethan & Laney do it, too. You should see us break it down when "Womanizer" comes on.

4. crushed ice.

5. fun friends.

Day 53:

1. when Children's Church is over...

2. the public library.

3. the Bookmobile.

4. the ice cream truck.

5. "Every Rose Has Its Thorn." Great memories of middle/junior high school dances...

Day 54:

1. pictures that my kiddies draw for me.

2. our French door art gallery.

3. that our refrigerator is a magnetic tribute to our kids, families, and friends.

4. mornings when I was little when I got ready before everybody else and could watch a little TV. "Bewitched" always came on right about the time we were leaving... made me sad...

5. hiding places. As a child, 1. My closet behind my mom's long dresses, 2. the dryer. Now, 1. my closet. 2. Sam's room.

Day 55:

1. "Designing Women." At this point in my life, I want to be like Julia. When I get old, I want to be like Berneice.

2. "Three's Company." Growing up, I thought it would be sooooo cool to have a male roommate. Mary and Ken didn't see things my way.

3. "The Dukes of Hazard." I remember sliding through the rolled down windows of Toad's red Chevy... at least, until he came out and saw what I was doing. I didn't want to be Daisy; I wanted to be one of the Duke boys. Now, I'd settle for looking like Daisy did back then.

4. "Alvin & the Chipmunks" and "The Chipettes." Theodore and his chubby girlfriend were my favorites. I think my mom still has the Arby's collectible glasses in the cabinet somewhere.

5. "Simon & Simon." I had the hots for AJ. I think this fostered my love of detective shows.

Day 56:

1. a great sale on a great dress.

2. finding surprises for the kids that I know they will love.

3. grocery shopping.

4. finding a card in the card store that makes me laugh out loud.

5. nice salespeople.

Day 57:

1. when people bring Diet Coke to functions so I don't have to wonder what I'm going to drink.

2. eating a slice of cheesecake because it is calling my name LOUDLY and still losing weight.

3. watching Ethan wrestle for the first time. He TOTALLY doesn't take it seriously, but he kicks hiney at the Spider game...

4. Sam's jabbering that wakes me up at 4 AM. Can't get mad because he's just so happy to be here... and that sound -- it's like the sweetest symphony! If I have to wake up at 4 am, that's the sound I want to wake up to...

5. Ethan's version of history. They are learning about The Statue of Liberty in school right now, and he's trying to teach me. It's hilarious! So far, I know that she lives on an island -- not Ellis Island, Mommy! Just an island! -- and that she's green. What we don't know is why she's green or why she's holding fire. I think he missed those parts when his ADD kicked in...

Day 58:

1. anticipating the weekend.

2. feeling productive.

3. broccoli.

4. mushrooms.

5. asparagus.

Days 48 & 49

2009-02-18T21:44:00.003-05:00

Day 48:
I found a bunch of my coaching stuff... made me reminisce a little...
1. my coaching tshirts. K hates them, says they're atrocious. My favorite is the one the proclaims as THE QUEEN in large, cheap block letters across the back.
2. blowing a whistle. I forgot to use it half the time, but it made me feel kind of official.
3. watching my girls after a win -- and knowing how hard they worked for it.
4. bus rides to games -- except for the season that I was pregnant with Laney. Those made me sick.
5. the thrill of coaching. I miss it so much -- but I know that I'd be crazy to get back into it right now with three kids. Still... coaching volleyball gave me killer arm muscles... nothing like hitting 763 balls per practice to make you look like you trained Mr. T....

Day 49:
1. When America has sense. We may not be able to manage money worth a crap, but at least we had the sense to vote Tatiana off of American Idol. I was worried after the whole Sanjaya incident...
2. The red ju-ju hearts that come out at Valentine's. Yum! Could eat the whole bag.
3. Girl Scout cookies. Specifically Peanut Butter Patties, Caramel Delights, and Shortbreads. You can keep your Thin Mints. They make me want to throw up.
4. Sam in his "Ladies Man" tshirt. I bought it for him to wear to school for Valentine's Day, but he was home sick. It isn't specifically Valentine's wear, though, so he wore it today. He cracked himself up... which cracked me up.
5. Friends in The Know. It amazes me that I have friends who can help with just about any problem... and that are willing to share their knowledge/contacts/resources.

Day 46 & 47...

2009-02-16T14:11:00.002-05:00

Day 46:
1. hanging out with Pearle. She makes me laugh, AND she doesn't mind talking talking about my Pop, who is one of my Top 10 Favorite People of All Time.
2. being busy. Sometimes, I think I over-commit, and I'm sure some of my friends/family would say I do... but I really love the sense of accomplishing things. Besides, if I wasn't busy, I'd have no excuse for being a poor housekeeper.
3. Bingo. We had a Valentine's banquet at church yesterday, and it makes me laugh to no end at the crazy intensity that Bingo creates in people. I mean, people will cut you for less than jostling their Bingo cards. We also play Bingo at my family reunion every year, and I remember some instances when people got huffy over who was getting what prize.
4. The rare occasion when K gets up with a baby without me having to ask. He "pretends" to sleep, so I -- being the lighter sleeper -- wake up... and I think I've blogged about this before... but by the time I get him up, it TOTALLY defeats the purpose of me not having to get up... which is to be able to sleep. Anyway, last night, he got up with Sam without me asking, and it was B.E.A.U.T.I.F.U.L.
5. Catnaps that make you feel refreshed and not like you're coming to after being hit by a bus.

Day 47:
1. students who actually keep up with handouts.
2. that one student who was paying attention when I gave an assignment and has no problem 1) calling out the others by saying, "She did give us that project -- last Tuesday!" and 2) turning in magnificent work on time.
3. spring catalogs arriving in the mail.
4. the first hint of spring in the air.
5. spring fever. I've got it. Can you tell? I'm so tired of cold weather and heavy clothes and bundling up. My flip-flops are getting restless.

Day Something That I Can't Remember Because I Forgot To Look...

2009-02-14T20:52:00.003-05:00

1. Corn-on-the-cob. Preferably fresh and grilled, but I'll take it any way you make it. Butter. A little salt. Pepper. Ideally, it'd be on the same plate with some kind of grilled or boiled shrimp, sliced fresh tomatoes sprinkled with salt and pepper, and homemade cheese grits...and some sweet cantaloupe, if it's available. But, again-- I'll take it any way you make it.
2. A pretty pedicure... which reminds me... I need one. :-P
3. Teaching my kids things that my parents and grandparents taught me. Tonight, Ethan, Laney, and I made dinner. Homemade pizza and brownies. Not the most nutritious, I know, but they love helping in the kitchen... mixing up stuff, setting the table, etc. I don't know if they'll remember these kinds of things or not, but I still remember standing in a chair in our kitchen, helping my mom bake cookies... or in Hazel's kitchen, measuring out ingredients (but OH MY GOSH -- how I hated setting the table at her house! Was so glad when Lindsey got old enough to take over that duty!)... or in Pearle's kitchen, making macaroni & cheese. Provided they don't keel over from salmonella poisoning because I let them lick the brownie batter bowl, I hope they'll share the same kind of stuff with their kids...
4. Mac's cheeseburgers and milkshakes... although I've learned the hard way that Mac & his helpers don't like making milkshakes and will sometimes refuse if they don't feel like it. This frustrates me to no end, but what can you do? I just always hope I catch them in the milkshake-making mood...
5. making homemade Valentines with the older kids... even if they do fight like Tom & Jerry. Their cards are so funny and original and priceless. I can't say this will be a new tradition, as it sort of made me feel like drop-kicking them both in the teeth, but it was sooo worth it to see their pride in their creations.

Days 40, 41, 42, 43, & 44

2009-02-13T09:19:00.003-05:00

Sorry, Lindsey... that obviously didn't help. This week has been crazy. For starters, Sam & E have been sick. Sick kids always throw the schedule waaaay out of whack. And, for what it's worth, they haven't been sick-sick simultaneously. E started out the week, and Sam is finishing it up... although Sam has been kinda puny all week.

Ok, I have to admit this, too, because I am not sure whether to laugh or cry. With all of the school budget cuts, we're having to forgo subs, which means that instead of having time to plan these fabulous lessons we are supposed to teach, we have to cover other people's classes. I really don't mind doing this, except 1 -- no one will ever have to cover my classes for an entire day because I have no more sick days, 2 -- it never fails that I have to cover when I have a ton of stuff to do.

Like today.

I just called Marble Slab Creamery to see what time they open, only to find the number has been disconnected.

Normally, that wouldn't alarm me, EXCEPT I just sent Marble Slab gift cards to school with my kids for their teachers' Valentine's gifts.

So, now I am in a quandary. I have to replace those cards with something they might use -- the closest store is now about 30 minutes away. AND I had to cover a class this morning, so I had a while to stew over this mess when I normally would be working and focusing on other things.

I wonder if their teachers are going to talk about me in the Teachers' Lounge....

Day 40:
1. Jack Johnson's "Banana Pancakes."
2. "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid soundtrack.
3. Air Supply.
4. Chicago.
5. Kenny Rogers from back in tha day.

Day 41:
1. "Physical" - Olivia Newton John -- I remember working out to this song with my Get In Shape Girl! gear.
2. "Eye of the Tiger" -- and most of Survivor's other big hits.
3. "The Sweetest Thing" -- Juice Newton.
4. Prince from the 80s.
5. Kool and the Gang. Old school.

Day 42:
1. John Cougar - before he became Mellencamp -- when he was all about "Jack and Diane" and "Hurt So Good."
2. Bruce Springsteen from the 80s and maybe early 90s -- "Glory Days" and whatnot.
3. "Sherry" - Steve Perry
4. "Let's Hear It for the Boy."
5. Whitney Houston -- "Saving All My Love for You" and her other dance hits.

Day 43:
1. Madonna when she was the Material Girl -- "Papa Don't Preach" era.
2. The Bangles -- "Walk Like an Egyptian" and "Manic Monday."
3. George Michael's "Faith" album.
4. Debbie Gibson -- "Electric Youth" album.
5. Tiffany -- "I Think We're Alone Now" -- preferably the rendition by my Clemson girls this summer @ the Chick-Fil-A when we were trapped during the storm. Our children were mesmerized. Or traumatized. One or the other...

Day 44:
1. stain spray. Just realized the highlighter I keep clipped to my lanyard at school has been laying in my lap for a few minutes. Nice yellow stain on my pretty pink pants.
2. clown cones from Baskin Robbins.
3. knowing that the school day is going to end. It cannot last forever.
4. baseball fields.
5. venting to my girls about men -- knowing they understand and are laughing because they, too, have felt like selling their husbands as mail-order spouses to scary, hairy, beastly women in Yugoslavia.

Day 38 & 39

2009-02-08T20:04:00.003-05:00

Lindsey, my younger cousin who is really more like the 16-year old daughter I don't have, apparently does not like it that I miss days... so I'm going to try to do better... just because I don't like making her life difficult or disappointing her. Iz, I can't say I'll be great at it... but I'm going to try, Princess. Be patient, Priss. :-)

Day 38:
1. a room lit with lamps instead of overhead lights. Just seems so warm and inviting.
2. my Wonder Woman ring.
3. getting flowers at school... although this never happens on Valentine's because my school won't accept any deliveries on Valentine's Day.
4. Snickers ice cream bars.
5. being on-campus @ Clemson. I L.O.V.E. that place...

Day 39:
1. Ethan's tendency to make up the rules to any and every game... oddly enough, it always works out that his rules help him win...
2. finding the perfect card.
3. listening to my grandparents' stories... Granted, I've heard some of them 500 times... I heard Granny B.'s rendition of when Papa Max saw her across the churchyard twice today... but I love peeking into their history.
4. finding the caramels in a box of chocolates.
5. wandering aimlessly in a store when I have no children in tow.

Days 36 & 37 of 365

2009-02-06T21:40:00.003-05:00

The past two weeks have been uncharacteristically hectic, and nothing proves that more than the fact that I am happily sitting at home in my bathrobe -- my lovely, trusty bathrobe -- blogging away on a Friday night. I used to think Friday nights were for social, fun events, but that was before 3 kids and one alarmingly twilight-zoned husband zapped all my energy like my childhood neighbor's bug zapper used to zap all kinds of creepy itty bitty varmints.

Day 36:
1. margaritas the size of my head.
2. getting text messages when I'm bored.
3. color coordination.
4. driving a stick shift.
5. rollerskating in Pat & Jimmy's basement to "Jack & Diane."

Day 37:
1. multi-syllable words that are fun to say... like "tumultuous" and "brouhaha."
2. a warm day to end a cold spell.
3. finding a package on the front porch that I wasn't expecting.
4. going to the zoo.
5. getting chapstick for Christmas when I was little. Yeah, I ate it... but it was good, and it didn't kill me.

Day 35?

2009-02-04T21:47:00.003-05:00

Gah.

Why can't the days of one month just continue on where the last one left off... Feb. 32, Feb. 33... Numbers are not my forte, and the days of numerical title abandonment seem to be looming just over the horizon...

For today, however, I will pretend that it is Day 35, even though I am not sure that is the next post number.

1. realizing mid-run that it doesn't hurt anymore. That is why I run; after the initial pain, it is just an amazing high.
2. taking off teeth-whitening strips. I hate those suckers, but I drink 74.2 Diet Cokes per day, so I decided to start the whitening process this morning. It stinks, BUT the highlight is that eventually, I get to take them off. :-)
3. K wearing his slipper sox to the store. Jay & Nikki gave K these horrendous slipper sox for Christmas a few years back, and he wears them religiously in the cold weather. Now, I am currently sitting here, swaddled in my robe, but at least my robe is pretty. The slipper sox are my least favorite item of clothing he owns -- besides the mock turtlenecks... but those are another story by themselves. Anyway, K has no qualms about wearing his slipper sox to the store for late night runs. Once they are on, they don't come off... apparently. "This is how I roll," he says. I say, "If you roll like that, maybe you should just stay home."
4. Ethan's "Who Let the Letters Out?" song. Yes, that's right. He sings the entire alphabet as well as the sounds they make to the tune of "Who Let the Dogs Out?" Who says 5K doesn't rock?!? Laney and I have a dance party every time he breaks it down...
5. getting rid of the mountain o' mail that usually adorns our kitchen counter. It takes a certain mood and some quality time with the shredder, but it is just lovely to have open, uncluttered counters.

Days...

2009-02-03T19:49:00.002-05:00

31, 32, & 33.

Waaaayyyy behind. I know.

Day 31:
1. The satisfaction of finishing a good book.
2. The anticipation of looking for a new book.
3. Unlimited time to browse in the bookstore.
4. Sitting on the floor in the "Travel" section of the bookstore, browsing and dreaming... K & I used to do this when we were dating. Once, when he thought we might possibly be moving to Montana for his job, we were disturbed to learn that there are more wild, ferocious animals per square mile than humans in Montana. You can't imagine the sigh of relief that followed the news that we weren't going.
5. Imagining what the cover of my Great American Novel is going to look like. :-)

Day 32:
1. Days my mom makes lunch or dinner for us. I love to cook, but dang! A day off here and there is niiiiiccccceeee!
2. My mom having a Facebook page! I still can't believe it -- and I'm not 100% sure that she knows how to check it, but still! It's very impressive for a woman who isn't quite sure how to open email attachments!
3. Spending time with my brother & sister-in-law. I know they breathe a sigh of relief when we leave with our mass menagerie of kids... :-)
4. Super Bowl grub. I love a good excuse to eat!
5. Valentine's Little Debbie Cakes. I know they have 4.2 million calories per bite, but I don't care. I could eat the whole box.

Day 33:
1. Photographic trips down Memory Lane. I might poke Mark in the eye for posting those pics of me, but what a laugh!!!
2. The idea that I might've had a mullet. I'm hoping I didn't, but the idea of it just makes me laugh my head off! I hope that one is exempt from "Fashion Disaster" status while your parents are responsible for dressing you. :-)
3. Anticipating snow... even if it's just a little. Just the sight of a few flakes immediately turns me into an awe-struck five year old! I don't care about accumulation; it's just the magic of it all!
4. Getting a run in after a few weeks off.
5. Trying a new recipe and having it turn out fab-u-lous. This is a tough house to cook for, but Herb-Mustard Pork Chops were a hit!

Day 29 & 30

2009-01-30T09:05:00.004-05:00

Day 29

1. lipgloss. Really, I like just about any type of lipgloss, but I am particularly partial to the kind with the little wand with the spongy end. I'm not really sure why.

2. the skinny markers from Crayola.

3. decorating my classroom.

4. seeing the American flag blowing in the breeze. As a child, I was really partial to the one above the local Hardee's that was almost bigger than the restaurant, but I've come to respect the quiet dignity of the smaller flag as well.

5. hugging Toad. My head fits right in beneath his chins and his shoulder, and he always smells good and clean. Many a problem in my life have been solved with a hug from that man.

Day 30

1. monkeys. So cute. Always wanted one but my mom always said they were nasty and carried diseases. So do a lot of people I come in contact with on a daily basis, but we don't put them in cages... well, at least, not all of them.

2. Fridays at 3:41. It's such a rush to know the full weekend lies ahead. You'd think it'd get old, but it doesn't... not so much.

3. Any kind of covered dish dinner. At church...at school...doesn't matter. I'm all about a good grub.

4. riding 4-wheelers. We don't have one for big people (both of the kids have youth-sized ones), so I don't get to ride that often... but I do love to tear off across a field at full speed. Brings out the country/'neck girl in me.

5. finding out the story. I like for things to have meaning -- objects, names, events, whatever -- as often as possible. And I like to know what those things mean. Laney, for example, was named after my dad, whose middle name is Lane. People always ask where her name came from or if she was named after the Hawaiian name, and I always have a story to tell.

Day 28

2009-01-28T20:27:00.003-05:00

1. running on the beach early in the morning.
2. seeing things through my kids' eyes.
3. Cocoa Puffs.
4. breakfasts in "the room" off of the KHS cafeteria with my boys.
5. The Citadel's Dog Days.

Day 27

2009-01-27T12:54:00.003-05:00

1. The song "Elvira."
2. The unpredictability of my job.
3. Good leftovers.
4. A good run on a crisp morning when the air is just cold enough to make your lungs kinda pop as you take that first deep breath.
5. Being comfortable in my skin. Finally.

Day 26

2009-01-26T11:11:00.002-05:00

1. filling our flowerbeds and planters in the spring.
2. Girls Night Out.
3. riding horses. I hardly ever get to ride, but it's still a rush for me. One day, I'll have a horse. Of course, I'll also have to have a stable boy because I'm not much on cleaning out stalls...
4. getting a surprise package or card or letter. It just makes my day sooooo much better!
5. freshly sharpened pencils with really, really sharp points. The kind that you aren't supposed to throw because they could put your eye out. I especially like a bunch of them together. I'm not really sure why -- just makes me feel like I'm about to embark on some really big, important task that requires a lot of sharp pencils.

So, this Days of Grace thing... I really like blogging about it, and it does me a world of good to sit and think about the positive things in my life when I am usually so sarcastic. Apparently, though, I'm getting more out of it than warm fuzzies. I posted yesterday that finding money in my pockets is one of the things that brightens my life. This morning, I found $11 in the pocket of one of my winter coats. $11.50, to be exact. Woo-hoo! I mean, I didn't hit the lottery or anything, but that's $11.50 that I didn't have yesterday. I was sending the jacket with K to the dry-cleaners, and it might even pay for the dry-cleaning... or K's lunch... either is an option since I gave him the $10 and kept the $1.50 for myself. Generous spirit, I know. I kinda like being his Sugar Mama. :-)

Days 22, 23, 24, & 25

2009-01-25T22:04:00.003-05:00

Soooo.... I'm behind. Try to hide your shock and amazement.

Day 22

1. bookshelves overflowing with books. They're like aisles in a candy store for me. If only I had time to read them all...
2. finding THE perfect gift for someone. The excitement is almost unbearable... I've been known to call people and tell them because I can't wait. My mom, for example, doesn't mind. In fact, she used to know most things my dad bought for her because he'd tell me, and well... I wasn't so good at keeping a good secret...
3. Laney in a swimsuit. Girlfriend works that round belly and ghetto booty like nobody's business. And dares anyone to tell her any different.
4. Ethan's bat face. When he gets really tickled, he crinkles up his nose and shows his teeth when he laughs... and he looks like a baby bat. Makes me laugh.
5. pineapples. Symbolic of southern hospitality.

Day 23

1. Speaking of hospitality -- I love to entertain. Sometimes it's a little overwhelming when I'm preparing dinner for 25 or trying to plan a party, but I love nothing more than having a house full of the people I love.
2. cookbooks. I never understood how my mom could collect cookbooks until I began to truly love cooking. Now, I'm a cookbook freak. I also never thought I'd spend more time reading cookbooks than real books, but as it turns out, that happens, too.
3. matching scarves and gloves and hats. I don't get to wear them as much here because winter weather in SC can be a 60 degree day, but I love them regardless.
4. "Dirty Dancing" and its soundtrack. I remember that my friend Kelley's mom wouldn't let us watch the movie (we were in, like, 6th grade), but we watched it while she was out running errands. Ever since then, I've had a crazy affinity for Patrick Swayze's "She's Like the Wind." I know most people rank it up there as one of the worst songs ever, but it makes my heart skip a beat.
5. tiaras. I'd wear one every day if I could. I feel that maybe I was accidentally switched at birth and that my kingdom is waiting for me to return and be their ruler.

Day 24

1. new running shoes.
2. finding money in my pockets that I didn't realize was there.
3. hotels. I love hotels. Would live in one if I could.
4. long lunches with my girls from school. We once went out for breakfast and were still at the same restaurant come lunchtime. I think, given enough time and good food, we could solve the world's problems.
5. getting dressed up for dinner. I have come to appreciate what was once a frequent occurrence in my life: dinner at a good restaurant. Now that we have to find a sitter and make plans 20 months in advance, good dinners are few and far between, but I love sitting down to a meal at a table with a real tablecloth, a real place setting, and no plastic place mats adorned with Dora and Diego. Makes me feel like a grown-up.

Day 25

1. Sam falling asleep in my arms. Knowing that this is the last baby I'm going to have, I find myself marveling at the wonders of motherhood like it's my first time.
2. Laney's new haircut. I finally tired of battling the unruliness that is Laney's hair when long, and I had it cut into a bob. So cute on her, and she is so proud of her new 'do. It frames her precious little face, and I can barely keep from pinching her little cherubic cheeks.
3. Ethan's baby curls. Y'all, he was a 30-lb. monster baby at age 1, but his hair was beautiful. All kinds of soft curls around his little chubby face. Sigh.
5. My stand-mixer. It was a birthday gift from K, and I will say, it ranks right up there as one of my best gifts ever. Instead of buying it for me, he allowed me the bliss of being able to select it myself. As if I hadn't visited the stand-mixers in Williams-Sonoma at least once a week for years, I stood there for almost an hour, just admiring them in all of their shiny, lacquered glory. I mean, I already knew I was going to get the black one, but I considered the stainless (fingerprints), the red (might not go in every kitchen -- good thing since I changed kitchen decor that next year, and there's not a stitch of red anywhere in my kitchen now), the yellow (too 70s), and the white (would've blended into the wall at our old house; I wanted my stand-mixer to have presence!). After making enough of 3 types of cookies to serve 100+ people at K's work by using a hand-mixer while 7 months pregnant with Ethan, I felt that I deserved the stand-mixer, but still... pulling up to W-S's back door and letting them load it into my car was one of the most blissful moments of my life.

Day 20 & 21

2009-01-21T23:14:00.002-05:00

I know, I know. I'm slack this week... Sorry! :-)

Day 20:
1. Pleasant surprises.
2. Peyton Manning. Peyton? Payton? Whatever. He makes me laugh.
3. Waking up early and not feeling like I need to sleep another 12 hours.
4. The incredible maturity with which my students handled watching the inauguration. They make me so proud!
5. Being loved. :-)

Day 21:
1. Seeing Sam's head raise up out of his bassinett. He reminds me of a little turtle when his little head (and I mean that literally since his head is probably 1/3 the size of Ethan's and Laney's) starts bobbing around as he takes in his surroundings.
2. Target. I lllooooovvvvvveeeee Target. It is one of my happy places.
3. My new Wonder Woman READ poster. I'm a superfly English nerd, and I know it. Don't care. It will be going up in my room behind my desk where no one can touch it. If I could enshrine it in a bulletproof, airless case, I would. It should be preserved for all future generations to enjoy.
4. Old people who are still in love. My grandparents were still crazy in love after 60+ years of marriage, and it was the sweetest thing in the world to observe how my grandfather's face -- even when his dementia transported him to his own little world -- would just light up when my grandmother walked in the room.
5. K's little boy habits... like dunking his Oreos and eating Cookie Crisp and being beyond ridiculous to wake up in the mornings. I mean, most mornings, that whole ridiculousness of waking up routine makes me want to say curse words in 74 languages, but for the first minute, he really is cute.

Day 19 of 365

2009-01-19T22:21:00.002-05:00

1. daffodils blooming at the first sign of spring weather
2. finding a great bag -- and then finding that it's on sale! :-)
3. flip-flops. Specifically my brown leather Reefs as well as my black Reefs. Both are worn out, but try as I may to replace them with other pairs/brands... none can compare. I will probably wear these until they wear out...
4. sundresses
5. downtown Clemson... especially on a fall Saturday night after a big win

Day 18

2009-01-18T23:44:00.003-05:00

1. Lazy days with the fam.
2. The funny things that my kids ask. Ethan just asked me if I was going to carry K to bed like I carry him to bed when he falls asleep on the couch. Heck no, kid. I'm not asking for a hernia.
3. Chicken gnocchi soup from Olive Garden. Sigh. Contentment in a bowl.
4. The feeling of relief knowing that I don't have school tomorrow.
5. A warm drink on a cold night.

Day... Something

2009-01-17T19:06:00.002-05:00

I forgot to follow my fool-proof protocol, so I don't know what day it is... although I know that it's the same as whatever day in January it is... although I don't know that, either, because I didn't have school today and write it at the top of my board. Boo.

1. Snufflupagas. We went to see Sesame Street Live today, and it was actually rather enjoyable. I was sorely disappointed that Snuffie wasn't there, but I was pleasantly surprised to find out that both Cookie Monster and Elmo can dance -- for real. Like, I'd go clubbing with them.
2. fitting back into pre-pregnancy skinny jeans. Now, it wasn't like they just slid on, and I'm sure they don't look exactly as good as they did when I wore them and wasn't 3 months post-partum... but you know what? I don't care. All I care about is that these jeans are on my body 9 months ahead of when I got them on last time.
3. a milk chocolate Symphony bars. We're supposedly starting our big shape-up on Monday, so I bought 2 to enjoy this weekend. I fully intend to ingest every bit of both bars... 900 calories apiece. I just looked. I probably shouldn't eat anything else.... but I will... and I'll enjoy it all. Every last calorie.
4. Laney's "sneaking." On her tiptoes, hands extended above her head with her thumbs sticking out, she attempts -- at least once per evening -- to sneak up on us. She isn't quiet, so she is never successful... in fact, she looks like a ballerina skittering along on toe shoes... and she sounds like a small water buffalo. I'm guessing she'll never make a good ninja or spy, but that's ok because she makes me laugh.
5. learning new things. Today, I learned how to select and peel an avocado. I also learned that I do indeed like cotton candy, although the smell of it often makes my gag reflex kick in (long story -- cotton candy overdose at the circus when I was 5). I learned that there is a Hispanic monster on Sesame Street, that Ethan wants to be a police officer like his Uncle Jay, and that The Beacon's sweet tea is offensive to my taste buds but I am too scared of the people who work there (because they are serious about their business) to ask if I can get something else.

Day 16 of 365

2009-01-16T11:22:00.004-05:00

1. Darius Rucker's voice. I love a man with a nice voice, and I could listen to his all day. Plus, he's hot.
2. Tom Jones' voice. Ok, so he's not hot... but he is sexy. His voice rocks.
3. The lead singer from Nickelback's voice. Wow. Not into the long-haired, alternative rocker look, but dang... his voice is incredible. I almost added the lead singer from Hinder's voice as #4, but I can't stand watching him sing because he reminds me of a bad Steven Tyler impersonator... so even though I love his voice, I have to think about other things while he sings. :-(
4. My dad singing. He has a lovely voice, but it's below bass. Cracks me up.
5. The Statler Brothers. Specifically, the little guy with the high voice and the big guy who looks kinda like a Saint Bernard with the really deep voice. Favorite songs: "Flowers on the Wall" and "Elizabeth." Tried to get somebody to go with me to see them in concert a few years ago, but I couldn't find any takers. Don't understand it. :-(

Day 15 of 365

2009-01-15T14:46:00.003-05:00

Let me just say that today was an early release day for my students, so I've been slaving away over grades and whatnot for most of the day. I finally got my grades exported and started chipping away at my school TO DO list. I've got my iTunes pumping, and I felt like I was sort of being productive because I cleared off the surfaces on my computer desk.

As of this moment, though, I am being attacked by some atrocious fumes from the janitor's cleaning products. Our school is impressively clean, and I am super grateful for the awesome team that cleans our school, but this woman (not my regular janitor) is seriously about to run me out of my own room. Now, it's spotless in here, but I may pass out from hazardous chemical inhalation.

Anyway.

I just wanted to post that, along with my list for today, in case I don't make it home. If there's no post tomorrow, please send someone to look for me.

I'll be the unconscious body on the floor in "my" corner of my classroom, foaming at the mouth and convulsing from overdose of cleaning chemical fumes.

Gah.

Now on to happy thoughts...

1. Friday Night Lights. I'm really not much of a TV watcher (seriously -- even though I keep posting about shows I watch. Grey's. FNL. American Idol. That's all. Well, except Heroes on occasion.), but once a show catches my attention, I am faithful. I love football. I love high school. I love The South. It makes sense that a show about a southern high school football team would be a favorite, but I seriously am semi-obsessed with the show in a way I am not about most. I watch it religiously. I talk about it with my fellow super-crazy-fans (well, at least with Teri. She's the only one.). I actually check the website for info and updates. I know. I'm a little embarrassed, but y'all. Coach Taylor is hot. And I want to be hot like Tammy when I'm older. And I love a hot football coach. Have I mentioned that I love Coach Taylor?
2. Unexpected free time with no kids. Yes, I could probably be productive but I'd rather wander aimlessly through Target.
3. The quote "Well-behaved women rarely make history." I don't know off the top of my head who said it -- I think I'm doing great to remember the quote, given my typical mental jumble. I don't know that I'll make history, but I like to think that I will... and I think this quote justifies me acting afool.
4. 3-ring binders. I've mentioned my affinity for organization... and this includes my school stuff. Seriously -- going into an office supply store makes my heart beat faster. I ask for school supplies as gifts on a regular basis, but I rarely get them because people think I'm kidding. I asked K for an electric pencil sharpener for Christmas, but he didn't get me one because he thought I was just trying to be practical. Negative. Just want a new electric pencil sharpener to replace the one my sub broke while I was out on maternity leave, and I never think to buy one. Anyway, 3-ring binders with the plastic sleeves on the outside covers -- they are third only to Flair pens and index cards in my book. I love them.
5. Billy Graham. He is one of my heroes -- probably #1 on my list of people I want to meet before I die. I'm probably one of the few people my age who have actually been to a Billy Graham crusade. It was amazing, by the way -- music by George Beverly Shea, a little preaching from Billy, a guest appearance by Franklin Graham. Rev. Graham's voice, his message delivery, his example as a man of God -- I am just amazed by all of it. I've actually considered driving to his home in NC, but you know, I don't want to scare the man. Maybe I'll take Hazel. People have a hard time turning her down.

Day 14 of 365

2009-01-14T12:14:00.003-05:00

This new strategy is working like a charm. :-)

A couple of side notes:

1 -- Ethan is hilarious. He often just kind of calls people whatever he wants their names to be... but this morning, I was looking through the faculty list at his school, searching for an email contact. I happened to notice that there are two PE coaches. This surprised me because I've only heard him talk about one -- Coach Rissom (or Rizzom or something like that). He LOVES Coach Rissom, and every Monday and Thursday, he reminds me RELIGIOUSLY that he has to wear tennis shoes because they have gym that day, and if he doesn't wear tennis shoes, he can't play, and he doesn't want to disappoint Coach Rissom. I mean, I get that entire speech every Monday and Thursday. So. Anyway. I'm looking through the list, and I notice the two PE teachers. Then I notice that neither of them is named Coach Rissom.

I'm shocked.

And then, I'm concerned. Who is this person Ethan talks about non-stop?

And then I notice that one of them is named Coach Whittam... which I could see how, if Ethan thought that the name was too hard to say, he might just transform it into something a little easier... like Rissom.

I laughed out loud. I imagine that this man has given up trying to get Ethan to say his name correctly, but I also imagine that he is keenly aware that Ethan calls him by the wrong name because Ethan is 1) slightly obsessed with Coach Rissom, which means he probably talks the poor man's ear off and 2) Ethan (like me) is a name caller... as in, he calls people by their names all the time during conversation.

Personally, I prefer to call people by their first and last names... as in Bob Jones or Sally Singleton. I don't know why, but I just do. It makes me feel better.

Anyway, tonight's mission is going to be to teach Ethan how to say Coach Whittam/Rissom's name correctly.

2 -- Laney is just about too big for her britches. She totally called me out the other day for making a mess.
Laney: "Oooooooooh. Mommmy. Come 'ere." (She, for some reason, always says this in a very monotone voice with a very serious face. This is ALWAYS her preface for showing me something that is going to get someone in trouble.)
Me: "What is it, honey?"
Laney: "Oooooooooh. Mommy. Wook at dis..." (Part 2 of her "I'm about to get somebody in trouble" speech. Also said in monotone with straight face.)
Me: "What is it?!"
Laney: "Wook at dis mess!" (Pointing at a pile of stuff on the floor that I had just put down.)
Me: "What mess?"
Laney: "Dis mess!"
Me: "That's not a mess. I'm putting that stuff away."
Laney: "Mommy. You better cwean up dis mess! Wight now, missy!"

I won't continue the conversation, but let me just tell you -- there commenced to being a whole lot of finger-wagging and head-bobbing in my house at that point. I learn something new every day, and on that day, I learned that I do not take directions well from a two-year old.

Now, onto happier thoughts...

1. American Idol! It is my guilty pleasure, but I so love it and will tell anyone who will listen. I secretly have a little crush on Simon, although I think it's because he has a British accent and a lovely smile more so than his looks.
2. Pearls. Now, don't get me wrong... I haven't met many gemstones that I don't like... but I am especially fond of pearls. Maybe because I have a grandmother named Pearle. Maybe because my mom always wore pearls when I was little. I don't know. I just like them.
3. Loading new music to my i-pod. Love it when I'm running and a new song shuffles into my running playlist. On Saturday morning, I was running along when "Poison" by BelBivDevoe popped into my earbuds. All of a sudden, mile 2 was a little more fun...
4. Talking to Sam. He laughs at all my jokes and comments in all the right places, even though I can't understand his baby gibberish. I'm trying to teach him to say "I love you" because I think that his first tries will sound like "Wy wuff rou" -- like that dog on the old Little Caesar's commercials -- but so far, we haven't had much luck. I kind of think he's like the babies on "Baby Geniuses," so I imagine that he has great conversation with his nursery buddies about his crazy mama. "You shoulda seen her yesterday! She's still trying to get me to say 'I love you!'" I half expect him to just bust out with "I love you" in a Barry White voice to freak me out.
5. Word Girl. ETV has come a long way since I was a kid watching funky independent cartoons. Not only does Word Girl rock, but she also has a pet monkey, fights vocabulary ignorance, and gets to wear a relatively cute superhero costume. Not bad for a day's work...

Day 13 of 365

2009-01-13T11:59:00.002-05:00

I think I've figured out the snafu. Before I put the date, I usually go about finding the "365 Days of Grace" seal... and therein lies the problem. Since it takes practically nothing to distract me, I forget what day it is before I get back to my blog to post the seal and day. SO. I'm going to get the seal first, and THEN open the new post window.

Anyway...

1. realizing that people do read my blog. I wondered if, when I started this 365 thing, people would be like, "Omg. We already have one Oprah! There isn't enough room for two!" but I've had several people let me know that they are still reading and like it. (Thanks, Lindsey & Laura!) And that makes me happy.
2. my children when they sleep. Not for the obvious reason that they are significantly less noisy when unconscious BUT instead because they are so peaceful and beautiful. It amazes me on a daily basis that those ginormous beings were once growing inside my belly. I don't really know how to explain it, but when I watch them sleeping so peacefully... when I can study the details of their little faces... it almost takes my breath away. For a woman who swore up and down for the first 24 years of her life that she didn't really want kids, it is beyond my realm of understanding how it is possible to love three creatures so much, so equally, so completely... but I do. They make me a better person every day that I share with them.
3. planning and organization. I L.O.V.E. a good plan. Why do I volunteer to do so much? Because I am addicted to planning. And listmaking. And organizing. It feeds the OCD monster in me.
4. a clean desk. Doesn't happen often, but when it does... man! It is beautiful! Sometimes, when it's clean, I just sit back at my computer and admire the beauty of my clean desk. *Sigh* I will add that it is not clean now, but I am anticipating cleanness shortly... like by the end of the week... and I can barely contain my excitement!
5. running pants. Specifically, my gray and black running pants that K bought me for Christmas last year. I would wear them every day, all day, if I could. With my robe. They are the most comfortable pieces of clothing I own, besides my robe(s) and my hand-dandy orange Clemson tshirts. PLUS -- they actually make my rear look like it exists instead of being just an extension of my back. :-)

Day... 12?

2009-01-12T21:31:00.003-05:00

I think that, eventually (like, this week), I am going to blow the count on the days... bear with me.

1. Law & Order marathons. Lucky for me, they come on practically every other day.
2. James Bond movie marathons. I always notice something new... like last night. There were two belly-dancing women who got into a catfight. I must've fallen asleep during that part of the movie every time.
3. my white robe. Heck, any of my robes, really. I have two heavier ones -- the white one being my favorite -- and a summer weight robe. K was really glad when I started back to school because he didn't have to look at me wearing them all. the. time.
4. my stiletto collection. I L.O.V.E. shoes, specifically eye-catching shoes with eye-catching heel heights. Yes, I sometimes wobble and toddle like I just learned how to walk... and more than once, I've caught a heel in a crack or a hole and busted my face in public, but dang... not much makes me happier than finding a beautiful pair of shoes in my size that perfectly complements my wardrobe... or one item in my wardrobe... or one item I might one day buy for my wardrobe.
5. holding hands... with K or the kids or my grandma or whoever. While I have serious personal space issues (as in, don't invade it or I will freak), I do so love holding hands. It's almost therapeutic.

Day 11

2009-01-11T21:41:00.002-05:00

1. "I Will Survive," "Grease Medley," and other songs that immediately make my college girlfriends and I break out into our nicely choreographed dances (hey -- don't laugh! We cleared many a dance floor with our impressive moves) while simultaneously making all of our husbands break for the door. I'm still not sure why it embarrasses them so to be married to such masterful dancers...
2. monograms. On anything.
3. Wonder Woman.
4. cow field campouts with my Ville friends in the old days. There's nothing like a bonfire and sleeping bags to draw a bovine crowd. I'm still not sure why any of our parents let us have co-ed slumber parties in the middle of a cow field -- or even in their houses -- but holy cow! (no pun intended) -- what incredible memories we made! The houses we rolled... the neighbors we annoyed... the things we did that weren't bad but that I won't mention because my parents still might ground me for them...
5. the awesome feeling of slight rebelliousness I felt after getting tattoos/my belly button pierced/cartilage piercings... which is addictive for someone who was always a very good girl... HOWEVER (as a disclaimer), it too quickly dissolved into a feeling of "I am so going to get ripped apart when my parents figure out what I've done." That feeling lasted much longer... :-)

Curses!!!

2009-01-10T12:40:00.004-05:00

I knew I'd flub it up.

*Sigh.*

I'm please that I posted 8 days in a row, but by the time I remembered last night, it was after midnight... which technically counts as a Saturday post. Pbbbbllllllllttttttt.

I'm not giving up, though, because I am determined to make it through all year... so I'll just post two separate lists of 5 today.

Friday's List:
1. Laney's Flying Monkey hat
2. Ethan in his old man pajamas
3. Sam's crazy hair mohawk
4. Jennifer's imitation of my dog Zelda. This probably isn't funny to anyone else, but if you could just see her do it.. So funny! Make me laugh until I cry every time!
5. Boudreaux the Miracle Gift dog. Came to us house-broken and kid-friendly. Has terrible gas and a really gross tendency to vomit foam because he eats too much too fast... but he is such a gentle, sweet beast. Even though he smells.

Saturday's List:
1. my students. Sometimes, they make me want to say bad words, but y'all... I love them. A lot. I hate getting up early, and I hate grading papers, and I hate when they are surly and nasty and mean... but I love them like nobody's business. I'd love to stay home with my flesh-and-blood kids, but I just can't seem to give up my school kids.
2. early dismissal days. I mean, I do love my students, but I also love a little free time...
3. my ELMO. After 74 years of using a prehistoric overhead, my ELMO is amazing. Plus, I love how everybody feels the irresistible need to stick his/her hand under the light to see if it really will show up looking like their hand on the screen. Makes me laugh every time.
4. making a dent in my mountain o' papers to grade.
5. getting my grades exported on time. :-)

Day 8

2009-01-08T19:54:00.002-05:00

1. Chocolate-dipped strawberries from Godiva. I'd kill for one right now, by the way.
2. Diet Coke floats when the Diet Coke is cold and makes the ice cream kinda ice-y
3. Homemade banana pudding
4. Almost any kind of ice cream on a sugar cone*
5. My friend Lindsay's red velvet cupcakes that make me want to hide in a locked closet until I am able to eat them all myself.

*Disclaimer on the ice cream -- nothing with nuts (except Praline Pecan), marshmallows (no Rocky Road, no thank you), coconut, mint or chocolate chips (mint chocolate chip is of the devil and makes me want to vomit. I don't like Butter Pecan or any kind of fruit ice cream with chunks, like strawberry or peach, although I do like strawberries as well as peaches in their natural states. I love sherbets, too, specifically orange and raspberry and mango... but not so much lime. Overall, I prefer smooth ice cream with no major chunks (unless you're talking Sweet Cream from Marble Slab mixed with Heath Bar Chunks) in a sugar cone. It REALLY makes me happy.

Day 7?

2009-01-07T22:20:00.003-05:00

1. Tiger Rag
2. Watching my Tigers run down the hill... gives me chills thinking about it :-)
3. Saturday afternoons in Death Valley with Toad
4. C-L-E-M in Cadence Count!
5. The old scoreboard where the tiger tail moved when points were scored...

Day 6 of 365

2009-01-06T11:00:00.003-05:00

1. making lists
2. the way Sam often stops crying immediately when I pick him up so that he can nuzzle into my neck
3. the way my Uncle Jimmy cracks himself up
4. Page-A-Day calendars
5. Flair pens in bright, happy colors

Day 5

2009-01-05T06:48:00.004-05:00

I have terrible number memory, so unless I start remembering to look before I start typing these, I'm afraid this "DayX" thing is going to go by the wayside pretty quickly. I think it's Day 5... but I'm not really sure.

1. little blue boxes from Tiffany
2. NYC at night with all the lights and the buzz
3. taking the cheesy red bus just to hear all the cool, fascinating facts that the tour guides know
4. seeing my college roommate running on the streets of New York -- random but TOTALLY made my trip
5. getting to go inside a NYPD station... nevermind that someone lifted my driver's license and there are probably 50 of me running around the streets of NYC, committing crimes... it was awesome to go in and see that Law & Order isn't really made up...

Laney the Ladybug Killer

2009-01-04T10:43:00.007-05:00

An odd recent occurrence in our house:

Ethan comes flying down the stairs, screeching like a hoot owl being chased by a coyote. I hear Laney's evil laugh (yes, she has an evil laugh... very deep and scary compared to her normal loud belly-laugh) following behind... and then the tha-thump-tha-thump-tha-thump of her sliding down the stairs.

*I've got to figure out how to post a video to this thing so that I can show you what I mean. Laney comes down the stairs at break-neck speed on her rump... and I'm pretty sure she's set a new world record. It's absolutely hilarious!

Anyway, they are running from room to room, with Ethan screaming like a girl and Laney laughing like a mad scientist. I figure they're just being silly, playing some game until FINALLY Ethan screeches, "MOMMY! MAKE HER STOP!"

I put my arm out and hook Laney, who is still laughing like a maniac and looks like Charles Manson with her stringy hair all in her face.

I ask what the problem is, and Ethan (trying to milk the situation for sympathy and get his sister in trouble) says in his best pitiful voice, "Laney's chasing me!"

Really. Hadn't noticed.

Me: "Why is she chasing you?"

Ethan: "Because she has the ladybug."

Me: "The ladybug?"

Ethan: "Yes. The one she squooshed."

About this time, Laney/Charles sticks her chubby little arm out, and I notice something pinched between her fingers.

Can you see that?

Yep. It's a ladybug.

I'm not sure which is more disturbing... that my oldest son was screaming like a girl because he was being chased with a tee-niny ladybug... or that my sweet, precious daughter is a notorious ladybug killer.

I may need to revisit my parenting philosophies...

Day 4...

2009-01-04T10:19:00.003-05:00

1. getting into a nicely made-up bed
2. waking up and looking out over the beach
3. tomatoes
4. Christmas breakfast at my aunt's
5. laughing until my sides hurt and my eyes water

Day 3...

2009-01-03T12:40:00.004-05:00

1. The first warm day of spring.
2. Fresh flowers.
3. Curling up with a good book and a blanket and plenty of uninterrupted time to read.
4. New stationery.
5. Driving into Charleston.

The Brighter Side of Motherhood...

2009-01-02T22:55:00.004-05:00

Ok, so while I'm waxing poetic about what I love about my kids, let me give you a brief run-down of one of the not-so-beautiful moments of motherhood.

We've been sick at our house for, like, the past 12.4 years, ok? That means Mommy & Daddy, and we haven't felt like doing much other than the basics. Now, we're starting to recover, so today we decided to have a little family time tonight.

It starts with pizza for dinner -- the nightly request of the older 2 kids (since Sam doesn't have any teeth and has yet to discover the incredible delight called Chocolate Chip Pizza).

That, of course, is a hit. They'd eat pizza every day if I'd let them and didn't insist on them trying and eating new things.

*Side note: I do think I might be up for Mom-O'-The-Year because I got every teeth-carrying member of my family to eat collard greens yesterday. Granted, I made grits-stuffed greens instead of traditional collards, but hey -- collard greens are collard greens, regardless of whether they're stewed in broth or wrapped around cheese grits.

Anyway, next on the docket: Movie Night.

Like their father, our kids are movie freaks, and we haven't watched all of the new movies they got for Christmas. K picks "Ironman."

Now, I could've told him that maybe an adult version of a comic book hero might not be the best choice for a 5-year old and a 2-year old, but my subtle attempt at bringing that up was dismissed with a "It's 'Ironman.' He'll love it!"

Yeah.

Five minutes into it, Ethan and Laney are running around, shrieking and demanding drinks and doing their best to tear up the place while K bellows at them to be quiet so he can hear the movie.

Hm.

Maybe Movie Night wasn't really about family time as much as about getting to watch a movie that I'd probably never agree to watch on free time.

Anyway, back to it.

So... Movie Night's a bust, but we decide to play CandyLand. Works for me because I still love CandyLand. K isn't quite as enthusiastic, but he gets down on the floor with us, and we complete the game in record time with optimal results (meaning Ethan won fair-and-square so we wouldn't have to witness the phenomenal meltdown that occurs when he loses).

Bedtime!

The kids, of course, start coming up with 72 fool-proof plans to NOT go to bed, but we send them upstairs, regardless. Ethan asks me to read a bedtime story, and being a bad mom, I tell him I'll read to him in the morning because my eyes are tired.

Seriously, they really are. I read an entire book -- 447 pages -- between 3 pm & 9 pm, with breaks for dinner, CandyLand, and various feedings/changings/tendings to kids. Lots of reading in a little time = tired eyes.

Anyway, after I send them upstairs, I start to feel bad because I sort of decided early on in motherhood that I want my kids to be literacy freaks... and part of that decision means not turning down an opportunity to read with them unless absolutely, positively necessary.

BUT -- my eyes are tired.

So... I decide to compromise. I go upstairs and snuggle Laney and Ethan up in Ethan's bed and announce that I am going to tell them a bedtime story.

Now, Ethan loves my stories. He used to beg me every night to tell him about how he kept the pumas from attacking our family. (He went through a crazy animal stage when he was obsessed with Diego.) Laney doesn't have much patience for any kind of story, but she loves to be a part of things... so I figured she'd bite.

I start crafting this master tale of a prince named Ethan and a princess named Laney, weaving in threads of our everyday life so that they would identify with their namesake characters. I draw them in by bringing in their superhero capes and masks, which give the prince and princess superhero powers.

I even let each choose his/her own superhero power.

Right as I'm getting ready to describe in vivid, breathtaking detail the first battle against the evil villain, Ethan pipes in.

"Um, Mommy. Can you stop there and unblock the TV? "The PowerPuff Girls" are about to come on and I don't want to miss them."

Shocked silence.

"Mommy?"

My reaction is a little less than mature. "Wait. I'm telling you this awesome story, and you want me to shut it so you can watch 'PowerPuff Girls'?!?!"

I am incredulous.

This is a dang good story I'm whipping out here!

"Yeah. You can tell me the story later, but 'PowerPuff Girls' won't be on all night."

I contemplate a biting retort like, "I'll remember that next time you want me to answer 54 questions while my favorite song is on the radio!" but I realize that 1 -- I am the Mommy, 2 -- it is in my job description to be the bigger person, and 3 -- he totally won't care and/or remember.

Sighing, I slide off the bed to enter the code to unblock the TV... just about the time that Laney pipes in:

"Mommy? Can I get off of Efan's bed now? I weally don't wike being up he-ah."

You know... I love my kids more than my own life. I really do. I never thought I could love anything -- let alone three things -- the way I love my children... but I think Sam just moved to the top of the list in my will...

Day 2...

2009-01-02T12:00:00.006-05:00

1. 30 years with my granddad. I miss him so much, but I am so thankful that I had him for so long... that he was able to marry us (sort of -- that's another hilarious story in itself)... see two of my children born... let me tell him every chance I got that I loved him... and always said it back... you know... that kind of stuff.

2. My grandma Pearle's sassiness which I inherited and sometimes gets me in trouble... her zest for life that spills over into everything she does and lights up our family... her generous spirit that always let me have the last choc-o-gel (or 6, if I wanted) and taught me so much a giving with a cheerful heart.

3. My grandma Hazel's willingness to spend hours in the kitchen, teaching me to cook even though I made huge messes... her fostering of my love to read with trips to the bookmobile and lazy afternoons reading... her love of gardening that caused me much misery as a child (I hated watering those dang plants!) but now I wish I had inherited her green thumb (and patience).

4. Afternoon naps with the windows open in the spring.

5. The funny little bodies that kids have. I love Laney's round tummy and Ethan's long giraffe legs and Sam's little round bean head. *Sigh*

Happy New Year!

2009-01-01T22:15:00.003-05:00

I can't believe it's already 2009! I mean, it seems like just yesterday that it was The Millenium, and everyone was freaking out about Y2K...

Much like this year for New Year's, I was sick for that one, too. Can't wait to tell that story later...

"What was I doing when the turn of the century came about, kids? Well, let me tell you. I had a nasty case of the flu. Your father and I weren't married, so I was still living at home with Nana and Papa. I spent the afternoon curled up in my mother's lap in the urgent care clinic (no lie -- I was 22. People stared.), and your dad came over that night. We rang in the New Year in style -- laid out in my bed amongst boxes of Kleenex and magazines, watching the Dick Clark Rockin' New Year's Eve special on Toad's -7-inch television that I only got to put in my room on special occasions like being sick on New Year's, with the door cracked because my parents didn't want me to contaminate their party but were completely opposed to having visitors of the opposite sex secluded in a room alone with me, even if I was on my death bed."

They'll be so excited and grossed out, all at once. :-)

Anyway, I haven't made any resolutions, but as I was logging in tonight, I noticed an update from one of my favorite blogs, http://www.whoorl.com, and I was intrigued, so I had to read it. Apparently, this person (not Whoorl, but another person's blog she reads) is launching this gratitude journal, of sorts, on her blog. I like the idea, so I think I'm going to do it, too.

The point is to post 5 things for which I am grateful every day for a year.

Now, we all know that daily postings aren't my forte. I'm a little scatterbrained at times... Let me give you a recent example.

I ordered a book from Overstock.com for myself for Christmas because 1) I hadn't read it, 2) it was written by Dorothea Benton Frank, one of my favorite authors, and 3) it was on sale, cheap. I was sooo excited when it arrived... and soooo anticipating a good holiday read-fest.

Until I opened it up, two days after Christmas. As I started reading it, I started having a serious sense of deja-vu... it all seemed so familiar... oh wait!

I already read it.

Merry Christmas to me.

Anyway, I think I'm going to try this 365 Days of Grace in Small Things. I might miss a day here or there due to the craziness that is my life, but I'm really going to try. I think it's so easy to get wrapped up in what isn't going right or the latest drama, but I am constantly thinking -- especially with my kids -- how blessed I am.

I also love lists... like, obsessively. I am one of probably 100 listmakers who actually buy and read books like "1,000 Things To Be Happy About" or "500 Questions" (K's personal favorite... he keeps hiding it so I'll stop asking him questions...).

So... here it goes:
1- Laney's great love of jumping out from behind furniture or walls and yelling, "Thu-pwize!" or (my personal favorite) "Happy Birt-day!" when there is no thupwize or birtday to be had...
2- My funny friends. Reading their comments and/or emails make me laugh out loud, which makes me happy...
3- A cold Diet Coke first thing in the morning...
4- Sam's lopsided smile...
5- Ethan's obsessions... like locking the car doors immediately and trying to be sneaky like a ninja...

Here's to all the possibilities of a new year, including me blogging daily... :-)

If you're interested in reading more about this movement, check out http://www.schmutzie.com/2008/11/grace-in-small-things.html. Never mind the odd ad on the sidebar about the suicide note -- it's just an ad... but I wasn't sure what was going on, at first. Just wanted to warn you ahead of time.

Whew...

2008-12-29T13:29:00.018-05:00

Holy cow, kids... Christmas is over!

Now, I love Christmas. It is, along with my birthday, one of my favorite holidays. This year, however, I felt like I was a little behind all season long... and I hate that feeling. I wasn't through with my shopping until late; my Christmas cards went out late.

Let's not even talk about Sam's birth announcements that are sitting, addressed, on the table.

We did have a lovely Christmas, though, in spite of my belatedness.

The pictures are of the kids in their superhero capes & masks (http://www.etsy.com/ -- seller name: superflykidz). Ethan and Laney love theirs... Sam, maybe not so much now... but he'll grow into it. If Santa had brought them nothing else this year, I am so glad he brought these because I laugh every time I see their little round bodies running through the house, capes flying, crashing into things because neither of the mobile ones know how to put the masks on without somehow impeding their eyesight. (Check out the pictures closely, and you'll see what I mean.)

Anyway, we coasted through a gaggle of family get-togethers and moved on to having my in-laws come for the weekend.

We also had an unexpected visitor.

The Virus.

I don't know what kind of creation this thing is, but it has hit all three of my kids -- Sam and Laney twice! --, Keith, and his mom. And let me tell you -- it's not pretty.

On Monday, I got a bit of advice from my girlfriend Azure to boil some Pine Sol on the stove to disinfect the air.

Now, if you read my little "About Me" section, you will notice that one of the first things that I am not is a good housekeeper. And I will readily admit that math and science are not my strengths either... but based on my limited knowledge of these areas, this suggestion immediately brought a couple of thoughts to the forefront of my brain:

1 -- Pine Sol cleans everything. This has to be a good idea.

2 -- Cleaning chemicals + extreme heat = blown-up house.

Now, I trust Azure, but I had to ask her, to be safe. She assured me that there was nothing to worry about... she had done the same at her house, and they were all still in one piece.

So I broke out my trusty bottle of Pine Sol, only to realize that I was almost out. I've been cleaning bathrooms and wiping down surfaces like a mad woman since we've been out of school, so I guess I used it all.

Hmph. Well, that's a first.

Anyway, I asked K to bring home a bottle on his lunch break, and being the well-mannered husband that he is, he did so... but not without asking me a bunch of questions first. Our texts went something like this:

Me: Can u pick up a bottle of Pine Sol on your lunch & bring it home?

K: Sure. Why? (Translation: Is this really something I have to do at lunch? Can't it wait until I'm coming home for the day?)

Me: I need it to disinfect the house. Azure says to boil it on the stove.

K: That doesnt sound like a good idea. (Translation: H-no! You've got to be kidding.)

Me: I know. I asked her tho & she said its fine. No worries.

K: I dont know. Kind of like our house as it is. (Translation: Whatever, crazy woman. I'm not going to do it.)

Me: Bring me the Pine Sol. (Translation: I'm about to go medieval on your tail. Would you rather me blow up the house or suffer my wrath?)

K: Ok. But I still dont think this is a good idea. (Translation: Ok. I'll do it... but you're going to blow up the house, and I'm going to say "I told you so" every day for the rest of our lives.)

So, a couple of hours and one massive low-country boil pot later, I get the stuff on the stove. It seems to be going well, until K looks in the pot and said, "What's this stuff growing on top?"

Hold up there, Tonto. What stuff?!?!
Sure enough, there's this foamy mass growing on top of the Pine Sol... kind of like mutated pond scum.

About this time, we also notice that the pleasant scent wafting through the air has gone from "essence de pine" to "pine forest in the house."

Oh my gosh - it was ridiculous. I have visions of the kids losing consciousness and me having to explain to the doctor that they are unconscious due to overexposure to Pine Sol.

I don't imagine that would go over well, so we start opening doors.

I text Azure, and she reminds me to turn it down to simmer after it reaches a boil.

Oh. I must've missed that part. Reason #776 that I should never have to use cleaning products.

So, I turn it down, and the smell abates a little... with the help of a pleasant breeze and 4 open doors.

By the end of the afternoon, I am so pleased with myself because I have disinfected the house AND the air that I voluntarily let K talk me in to beginning this crazy-A workout program that he did last year (with great results) in hopes of getting this body back into some sort of shape post-baby.

After the workout, we go to bed because I am pooped (cleaning and working out are not normally in my schedule these days).

I wake up yesterday morning, and guess what!

I'm sick.

I don't have The Virus, but I feel like crap, nonetheless.

I must've let something in while I was letting the Pine Sol out.

*Sigh.*
Such is the story of my life...

Early Morning Ramblings...

2008-12-11T05:20:00.004-05:00

So, here I sit, at 5:21 a.m.

I think I may have posted that Sam often wakes up almost an hour or so -- to the minute -- before my alarm goes off, which totally starts my day with the unpleasant feeling of being gypped of an hour's sleep.

I dislike the feeling so much that I actually started setting my clock 30 minutes faster so I could maybe throw his evil baby mastermind off.

Guess what.

Sam now wakes up at 4 am instead of 4:30.

Sneaky kid.

Anyway, it's now 5:23 a.m., and I am awake because I just finished feeding Sam and my alarm will be going off for real in about 7 minutes.

While I'm trying to pass time until I feel like it's an appropriate time to get in the shower, let me tell you what happened to me last night.

I thought I was about to die.

K put Sam down kind of early, and by the time 11 pm rolled around, I was worn slap out. I briefly considered waking Sam up and feeding him, but that seemed like a much less appealing idea than actually just going to sleep myself.

So I did.

And Sam woke up around 1:30.... right about the time I hit a fat pocket of good sleep.

Nice.

I dragged myself out of bed, finally, and made a bottle for the screaming meanie. Seriously, it was one of the worst nights of babyhood I've ever experienced. Sam wasn't bad, of course, because he is the perfect child, but I was so exhausted that I could not stay awake, even though I was sitting up.

If we had a hidden camera in our den, the YouTube post would be hysterical because I was trying so hard to stay awake but kept failing miserably with some of those pretty impressive neck-snapping, bottle-propelling body jerks that happen when you fall asleep so suddenly that you lose all control of your limbs.

Sidenote: Watching people fall asleep TOTALLY cracks me up because usually, it's kind of a gradual thing where the person starts kind of slumping over until he/she reaches a point where the body might fall over, and that's when the jerk occurs, waking him/her back up temporarily. This was not the case with me last night. I was falling into deep sleep in about 1/10 of a second, so my torso kept pitching forward, simultaneously giving me whiplash and sending Sam's bottle flying across the room.

Anyway, Sam finally finished his bottle, and I put him down in the bassinet in the den. Seriously, I was so tired that I couldn't even make it back to the bedroom.

I had to lay down right. then.

Just about the time I rolled into Dream Land in my new Sleep 5.0, it happened.

The French doors leading from the breakfast area to the screened in porch blew open with a forceful gust -- only the deadbolt was latched, so they just really arched open into the house while sounding like the entire back wall of the kitchen was ripping apart.

Wind was whistling, the doors were blowing in and out, and I thought Armageddon had come and Jesus couldn't get the deadbolt unlatched.

I'm not kidding.

Ever been woken up from a dead sleep to what sounds like Attila the Hun attacking through your back door?

It's beyond terrifying.

In the split second that followed the stopping of my heart, I bolted up right, thinking 1,574,692 things all at once.

Can I get to Sam before whoever that is?

Why is my gun in the bedroom?

Holy cow! What do I do?

What if this person is bigger than me and I can't take him?

I think I'm going to pee on myself.

Can I get to my gun?

Is my gun loaded?

What if I shoot myself by accident?

How do I get Keith up?

Who am I kidding? Keith is going to sleep right through my slaughter.

I hope he remembers I don't want a funeral -- only a quick graveside and one mean party afterward...

"So," you're wondering, "what did you do?!?!"

I screamed, "OHMYGOSH!" and remained frozen in my just-woke-up-to-something-really-scary pose on the couch.

Good thing I'm not a superhero. My reflexes leave much to be desired.

After a few seconds, I finally -- like a moron -- ran to the doors. Now, if Roberto the Robber had really been trying to steal my impressive collection of laundry by the back door, me running to the doors probably wouldn't have been a good idea.

What was I going to do? Welcome him with open arms and remind him to wipe his feet before he came in?

Like I said... good thing I'm not a superhero.

Anyway, about this time, I realized that a small-scale hurricane was ripping through my backyard, and that Roberto the Robber was actually just Hurricane Roberto, blowing my doors in with one heck of a gust.

Apparently, we forgot to bolt the French doors back into place when we brought the Christmas tree in.

Sweet.

The thing is, you have to understand that someone breaking in is one of my irrational fears. We have an alarm system, and I have a gun, but my worst fear is just what happened -- that I will be so stupid with sleep that I won't be able to react.

I mean, you are reading the blog of a girl who used to lay in her bed when she was little and talk really loudly about going to rob other houses so that the (imagined) robbers lurking outside her open window would think that some really hard-core criminal -- much scarier than they ever had time to think about being -- was inside and that they should find another place to carry out their evil plans.

Thanks, Mom & Dad, for making me leave my windows open so that air could circulate for the attic fan. I'm sure that hearing a 6 year old girl's voice talking tough about knocking off the neighbors houses was probably a pretty-darn-effective burglary prevention system to scare off those ferocious criminals crouched outside our house.

Anyway, like I thought, K did not wake up, despite my rousing "OHMYGOSH!", and I had to resort to my really-angry-wife voice to rouse him from his sleep to get him to come lock the doors into place while I held them shut.

Meanwhile, my heart is beating, like, 42 million times per minute, and he comes stumbling out of the hallway, rubbing his eyes, mumbling stuff like, "Whasthebigdeal?" and "Whyyougotthedooropen?"

Um. Well. I thought that we were all about to perish at the hands of Bob the Burglar, thanks. Glad you're sleeping through the back of our house being bashed in.

We finally battened down the hatches and went back to bed.

As I crawled under the covers, I'm just chattering away about how my heart is racing and how I think my heart really may have stopped for like a full minute and do you think that could cause brain damage? and what if that had really been a burglar? would we have been able to tag team him?

K lay in bed silently until my chattering died down and said, "I don't know why you're so worked up. It was just the wind."

I seriously contemplated karate-chopping him in the throat.

Wow

2008-11-30T08:17:00.011-05:00

Pardon the past two months of blog format craziness. I chose this morning to finally, actually, closely read the directions, and VOILA! Miraculously, my blog isn't hard to read any more.

My bad.

It's been a busy month around the Jennings house. I went back to work. Keith left for two weeks on a business trip, leaving me with three small children for the two weeks before we were to host Thanksgiving dinner.

I'll pause while you fill in the blanks with the mean things I thought but, of course, didn't say... :-)
Seriously, it wasn't too bad. I mean, other than spending two weeks sleeping upstairs in E's double bed sandwiched in between him and Laney -- as opposed to sleeping downstairs in my king-sized bed, still sandwiched in between them--, there really wasn't much difference... other than, obviously, K being gone.

I spent the weekend after his return in Charleston with my girl Melissa. Let me give you a little background on my friend M.

M and I met @ Clemson back in the day when we were both recruiting hostesses for our beloved Tigers.

Side note -- before you smirk and think that we were those kind of girls -- we became recruiting hostesses because of our love for football, not because of our love for big muscular men in tight pants. Seriously. I mean, those of you who know my dad know I wasn't allowed to date until I turned 30.

Nevermind the husband of almost 9 years and the three kids.

Anyway, I gave her a ride back to the football office (from where, I don't recall), and we struck up a conversation about one of our favorite topics -- Clemson football. (Shocking, I know.) During the course of the conversation, we discovered that we both *L.O.V.E.* Danny Ford.

It's almost like an obsession, but not quite.

And thus, our friendship was born -- kindred hearts bound by a slight obsession with a good ol' boy football coach who led our sweet Tigers to win the National Championship.

It's really a fairy tale-kind of start, I think.

Fast-forward more years than I care to admit have passed, and here we are today. M lives in Charleston, which is probably my favorite place on the planet. I look for any excuse to visit her... such as a much needed break after two straight weeks with the kids.

A few weeks ago, she messaged me about this upcoming party for a friend of hers... 30th birthday... fun people... like I'd need any kind of arm-twisting to get me on board for a weekend of fun times in my favorite city with one of my favorite friends.

The more I found out about the party, though, the more I knew I had to go. Turned out there was a theme involved... and wigs.

I love a good costume party.

I especially love a good funny costume party... like a redneck trailer trash 30th birthday party. Which, as it turned out, this one was.

My friend Lindsay loaned me her Amy Winehouse wig from Halloween, and I started putting together my costume.

Add one cut-up Tony Stewart racing shirt, one black tank top, one orange bra, one hot pair of jean shorts (otherwise known as jorts), one pair of tan pantyhose, one pair of black high heeled boots, a white leather patchwork purse, and one really hot, pink, flaming heart tattoo.

Throw on some blue eyeshadow, metallic blue liquid eyeliner, hot pink lipgloss, hoop earrings the size of a softball, and one big puffy white jacket, and you have the recipe for pictures that are going to embarrass my kids and husband for years to come.

Like these:

I know that, at some point, my kids are going to see these pictures and say, "Mom! What were you thinking?!?!"... at which time I will venture to explain that just because I am their mommy does not mean that I am not also a person with interests and friends and a life... which means that I have turned into my mother.

Now, I'm pretty sure Mary has never dressed up in any sort of racing shirt... or jean shorts... or sported a fake tat... but she did have black knee boots when I was growing up... (I know this because they were THE staple item in my Wonder Woman costume when I was little... that, a set of Wonder Woman underoos, and some tin foil...)

I find this disturbing.

I will say -- to her credit -- that she has pretty much let me talk her out of wearing any sort of seasonal sweater... but still...

Anyway, despite the fact that I am posting these pictures here and on my Facebook page, Melissa and I took great care to avoid any public appearances while in costume. Obviously, it wasn't quite so awkward once we arrived; the costumes were hysterical! (Think Hannah Montana wig cut into a mullet.)

The party was fabulous and absolutely hilarious (minus getting called out about driving a mini-van -- nothing says "Not a regular party goer" like pulling up to the bash in the MV), but on the way home, we were faced with a major delimma.

I was hungry.

After much debate, we decided to hit the drive through @ Taco Bell.

In line, we caused a little bit of a stir... Two hot redneck women belted into an even hotter mini-van, complete with a school magnet on the back... but this is truly what I found alarming.

The lady at the drive through window didn't bat an eye when we came through.

She didn't even give us a second glance, despite the fact that my wig was seriously almost as tall as I am.

Apparently, hotties like us are par for the course on the islands around Charleston...

Hi-ho, Hi-ho... It's Back to Work I Go....

2008-11-08T12:32:00.004-05:00

which means blog postings will take for-flippin'-ever to finish. :-)

First, I am sooooo glad that this was a short week because I am soooo tired. My kids -- my school children, not my biological ones -- were so excited to see me, which makes what I do worthwhile... but still... a day full of very active teenagers followed by an evening of very active children makes me one tired and cranky SuperMom.

Speaking of Super Moms, I just got the capes and masks I ordered for the kids for Christmas, and they are freakin' hilarious. Can't wait to let them loose in the yard wearing nothing but their capes, masks, and under-roos... the neighbors will be totally alarmed...

Anyway... there are some adjustments to be made. First, I have to get up at the first hint of the butt crack of dawn (pardon the strong imagery there, but really -- it is earlier than I ever imagined I would voluntarily get up unless I was going somewhere fabulous...). I mean, the option has always been there for me to get up that early, but there just didn't seem to be a point in it when I could get another hour's sleep... until now.

Sam, who already pretty much sleeps through the night (from around 11 pm to 6 am... yes, thank you, he is the perfect child...), decided after my first day back on Wednesday that he'd start waking up at crazy hours of the night and keeping me up until literally minutes before my alarm was set to go off.

There's not really any feeling in the world like finally getting your child to sleep after a fun-filled two hours of nursing and baby talk only to realize that it is 5:29 AM... and you get up at 5:30 AM.

Moments like those are the reasons curse words were invented.

Second, I am trying to figure out this nursing thing. Gentlemen readers, please excuse, but this really is a conundrum. (I love that word, by the way.)

Ethan and Laney were both born in the spring, so I didn't go back to school until the following year... and by then, they were both on formula. I nursed Ethan for 6 weeks before getting sick with a vicious case of poison oak that required really strong steroids. Laney just wasn't having any of that nursing business, period. The Princess was much too impatient to wait for her meals to be delivered naturally; she preferred the bottle from the get-go.

Sam, of course, being the perfect child, is all about his mom, and so we're giving this nursing thing another shot.

So far, he has done incredibly well, but I've never had to actually pump at school... which I have to do now... which totally freaks me out, as the idea of that probably does most of you all.

The thing is, my room is practically a palace, so I don't have to go hide in the faculty bathroom or lock myself in the janitor's closet, like a lot of my friends have had to do... but still... there's something quite disconcerting about hooking yourself up to a machine in the middle of your classroom.

There are so many various and embarrassing options as to how this could turn out.
1 - Someone, like a co-worker, could let himself/herself in to get something out of my room. Now, I lock my door and cover all the windows (a little paranoid), but if you need a stapler, and you know I have a stapler, you're probably going to try to come in and get it. It's not like I want to post a big ol' sign that says "PUMPING!!! ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!" I mean, I do teach teenagers... No sense in asking for trouble.
2 - Someone, like one of my students, could try to get the door unlocked... I am a nazi about not letting people leaving things in my room, but on occasion, I have a soft moment and will let a kid leave books or a bag in my room. It would totally be my luck that one of those kids would have a desperate emergency that required retrieving possessions from my room while I'm exposed.
3 - The construction workers outside could somehow be able to see through the closed blinds and be getting a daily peep show. We have major construction going on at our school, and my room is right at the front corner of the building... which is right where one of the major building sites begins. Nothing says "Thanks for building our new addition!" like a full frontal flash...

A dozen other possibilities run through my brain on a daily basis as I sit there, trying to think about anything but whether or not there are hidden cameras in my room broadcasting this to the far corners of the earth....

Another adjustment is the sheer amount of stuff I have to do/have/plan in order to get through the day and still have any shred of sanity left.

I have to make sure lunches are made and coffee is set... clothes are laid out and bags are packed... cell is charged and plan is set for the next day....

There's a lot to think about...

and I am ADD...

meaning I foul things up on a daily basis.

So far, I've sent Ethan to school with a lunch that did not have an ice-pack in it... which sent him over his uptight, OCD edge... forgotten to set the coffee for K... and left my pump stuff @ home on the counter... which makes adjustment #2 very hard to take care of.

I'm sure that, at some point, this will get easier, like if I had a full-time maid, nanny, and personal assistant...

Boo. Hiss.

2008-11-04T15:42:00.002-05:00

I have to go back to work tomorrow, and I am protesting.

2008-10-23T08:12:00.007-04:00

You know, three kids really hasn't been so bad so far.

Now, there have been moments... like the week after we came home from the hospital and went to pick up Ethan at school... I had a horrible migraine-like headache, so my MIL (that'd be mother-in-law) was driving. About five minutes from school, Sam started crying... which made my head start ripping apart at the seams... and then Laney started crying... which made the skin peel off my face... and then Laney threw up because she got so upset -- about nothing serious, may I point out, because she just didn't want to put her drink in her cupholder... WHAT?!?! -- which made my gag reflex kick into super-turbo-overdrive.

On top of all of that, we still had to sit in line for 20 minutes with two screaming kids (one which reeked of barely digested Chick-Fil-A).

That was possibly one of the worst moments of my life.

Anyway, so far it has been relatively peaceful. Sam is growing so fast -- I can hardly believe he'll be five weeks old tomorrow!

Thankfully, he hasn't lost his sweet, laid back temperament yet... unlike his sister, who is, at this moment, flipping out -- full-on screaming and crying -- because it's not time for Dora yet.

Like I can help that.

Anyway, Laney and Ethan have been in rare form lately, and I'm beginning to wonder if, somehow, their bizarre behavior is not because we're their parents.

Now, some behavior, I will not take responsibility for. This morning, for example, at 7:45 a.m., Laney and I were driving back from dropping E off at school, and Laney starts chanting like Rainman that she wants to moo.

This is all my dad.

It seems that when my dad took Ethan to school, they would drive by the big cow fields (like there aren't fifty of those around our house). Toad would roll down the windows, so Ethan could hang his head out and yell, "MOOOOO!!!" at the cows.

When we'd pass the big fields on our way to or from anywhere, E would clamor about wanting to moo, and so finally, I caved... and it was hilarious!

Cows make me laugh anyway because they're kind of wall-eyed and bumbly... but their reaction to this big-headed kid hanging out the window of my MV yelling "MMMOOOOO!!!!" at the top of his lungs was so funny. They definitely didn't know what to think and were extremely concerned.

I imagine those cows on the California cheese commercials talking...

Since then, the kids -- both Ethan and Laney -- are obsessed with mooing... so much so that every time we get in the car, one of them mentions going to moo.

Now, we've probably single-handedly reduced the milk production around here by 50% -- the cows look absolutely disturbed and probably don't give any milk.

Anyway, here we are @ 7:45 a.m., and Laney is hanging out the window like a happy dog, hair unbrushed and wearing only a summer pajama shirt and pull-up because she changed her clothes in the middle of the night, yelling "MOOOOOO! MMMOOOOO!!!" at the top of her lungs.

I take no responsibility for teaching them that.

On the other hand, some things are my fault, like their incredible silliness, which I encourage because it makes me laugh.

Take a gander at these pictures:

These are Ethan & Laney's sketch-o Halloween costumes. This year, they are going as Velma and Freddy of Scooby Doo fame while Emma and Reece, their beloved cousins are dressing up as Daphne and Scooby. Sam, because no one makes Scrappy Doo or Shaggy costumes for babies, is going as the proverbial monster that must be apprehended.

Now, I knew it would be funny, but I had no idea how funny. Laney (aside from the dirty face) actually kind of looks like Velma, and while Ethan doesn't look anything like Freddy, the wig in itself is enough to crack me up for days.

I can't wait to see the whole gang together!

(And yes -- the MV is going to be the Mystery Machine... well, at least a modern version without the crazy paint job BUT including a nice ding on the side from the mailbox that I hit this summer. :-))

When I dress them up like this and laugh, I can't help but think they may be the way they are because of my distorted sense of humor...

The First Step...

2008-10-22T15:31:00.004-04:00

I hear, is admitting that you have a problem.

My name is Amy, and I am a Facebooker.

Holy cow. I don't think I've ever been so addicted to anything besides that chocolate cake that my girl Kelley brought last week.

I didn't even have a FB account until this summer. After a dinner with my peeps Tanya (who lives in one of those states with lots of tornadoes) and Laura (who lives here with me -- well, not in my house, but in the area) and I decided that we were going to do a better job of keeping in touch.

They both had FB pages at the time, while I did not.

I tried to get in on the MySpace thing, but I never really got it up and going... too much work for me.

Sidenote to panic attack: The last time I got on my MySpace page, my cousin Lindsey (who is the apple of my eye) tried to help me find a background to suit. Since I l.o.v.e. shoes, I thought I'd find one with cute shoes.... and I did -- a leg/foot in a red stiletto on a black & white background -- very chic....

Or at least, I thought it was... until I posted it to my page and realized it was more Hooker-in-Red-Stilettos than I-Love-My-Red-Stilettos. When it posted, the little bitty thumbnail picture turned out to be a large picture of a lady's leg encased in fishnet stockings, standing in what appeared to be a very sassy pose in front of a man's pants legs.

About the time that I recovered from my shock and tried to delete it, the connection was lost, and I didn't get to take it down.

When I started this post, I remembered that, so I tried to log on. My school kids use MySpace all the time, and the last thing I need is for them to think their English teacher is some kind of dominatrix.

The problem started when I pulled up my page -- and the background was gone.

Now, that means one of two things:
1 -- I took the background off.
2 -- I have two MySpace pages, and I can only remember the log in to one.

I'm thinking it may be the latter because I am prone to forgetting log in info and then creating another account.

This makes me panic because you hear horror stories about companies and employers searching MySpace for their employees. Now, there's nothing on my page, but still... it's not like I want my students or co-workers or -- Heaven forbid -- my principal or superintendent to pull up my page and see that.

ANYWAY -- back to Facebook.

So, Laura and Tanya tell me I need to get a FB page, and I oblige. At first, because I didn't know how it worked, I wasn't too obsessed.

I checked it pretty much every day and doodled around here and there with games, but it all exploded when I got home from the hospital on maternity leave.

I think it's because I have had very little contact with adults other than K or my parents -- but I'm not really sure.

I also don't think it helped that we moved the computer downstairs... so now, while K watches 74 hours straight of TV, I can Facebook for 74 straight hours as well... and again when he goes to work... and again when the kids are napping... and again while dinner is cooking....

K, for the record, is annoyed. He has lodged minor complaints like, "Do you think you can get off Facebook long enough to help me load the dishwasher?"

No. Probably not. I might miss a chat.

To be fair, my contribution to household chores has significantly decreased since my obsession with Facebook began... not that my contribution was great, anyway.

I hate housework.

With a passion.

But still -- I don't see much difference between my obsession with Facebook and his obsession with TV... and movies he's already seen 97 times... or sleep.

I think we may have to sell our worldly possessions and become Amish in order to settle this fairly.

So, as it stands, I am addicted to just about everything. Gaming. Chatting. Messaging. So much so that I'm starting to recruit people to join FB just so I can talk to them.

Sigh.

I think it might be time for me to go back to school.

Excuses & Embarrassment

2008-10-16T08:16:00.004-04:00

Well, I was going for a bigger record than 5 days, but then things started getting crazy...

On Monday, Clemson fired our head coach, Tommy Bowden, right about the time I started working on my blog. Needless to say, I totally got sidetracked and didn't make it past logging in.

On Tuesday, I went shopping with Mary, Laney, and Sam. By the time we got back and picked up Ethan from school, it was time to get ready for soccer. By the time that was over and the kids were in bed, I wasn't very coherent.

On Wednesday, Mary and I took Sam and Laney shopping again in order to finish picking up what I didn't get on Tuesday. Shopping with Mom & 2 kids sometimes takes longer than anticipated.

So here it is. Thursday. Let me tell you how my morning has started.

First, my house looks like one of those you see on "Clean House" or another of those intervention-type shows. After two days of shopping -- which involved carrying Sam in one of those baby-backpack type things and managing Laney the Diva--, I didn't feel like doing much... so I didn't. Last night, I decided that today would be cleaning day.

I intended for it to start early, but I fell asleep on the couch last night around 9:30. K apparently fell asleep shortly thereafter because at 3:30 this morning, Sam woke both of us up... and we were still on the couches.

K went to bed. I, having gotten 6 hours of sleep, was wide awake.

For the record, there's not much going on here at that time of night/morning.

So...I research nursery bedding (as we still haven't done anything to Sam's nursery) until my eyes cross and finally fall asleep somewhere around 5 am... only to have the cursed alarm clock go off at 5:30.

Have I mentioned that the alarm clock is on my side of the bed? That means I have to turn it off because nothing wakes up Narcalepto, my insanely sleep-talented husband.

About that time, Laney starts bellowing from the top of the stairs. She -- after a year of climbing up and down the stairs just fine -- picks this morning to develop a crippling fear of coming downstairs by herself.

BUT -- she fully intends to have someone come get her and bring her downstairs to get in our bed.

Any guesses who that someone might be?

I'll give you a hint: It was not Narcalepto.

Once we finally get settled, she snuggles up next to me and falls asleep (which totally makes me forget that she is a voracious beast because she is so precious when she sleeps)...right about the time I realize my arm is pinned underneath her.

I have no other choice but to try to fall asleep before my arm does because I know better than to risk awakening the sleeping goblin unless I want to wake the rest of the house as well.

I drift off to sleep, my sweet girl in my arms, only to wake up approximately 2.5 seconds later to the sound of the alarm, signaling time to begin the morning mission of ejecting Narcalepto from the bed.

I am only semi-conscious at this point, so I don't know if I said the nasty things running through my head or just thought them.

To make a long story a little shorter, I realize moments later that I had done nothing to get ready for today... so I had to squeeze last night's prep into this morning's lack of time and patience. After getting Ethan up, I proceed to break out my Super-Mom cape and find suitable clothes, make breakfast & lunch & coffee, sign papers, accomplish homework tasks, pack bags, brush hair & teeth, corral younger siblings, and get into the car.

Proud of myself, I glance at the clock as I pull out of the driveway to take E to school... and realize we may be late.

Unless I engage the turbo-boosters.

So I floor it.

The MV roars off into the sunrise as I try to dodge squirrels and morning walkers, and I think we may have made it as we careen into the school parking lot on two wheels, barely missing the crossing guard.

When we pull up to the drop-off area, other kids are getting out of their cars and going in... but the doors are closed and there are no adults there to greet them.

Ethan, the ever-eager beaver, hops out of the car and takes off for the door right about the time my inner-honor student kicks in, and I start to panic.

Should I walk him in? Is he going to get in trouble? Oh my gosh -- is he late or not?!?!

Still, other kids are skipping in with no parents, but Ethan is little. He's in kindergarten. What if he gets lost? Should I go in, just to make sure he's ok?

I cruise slowly by the front door, craning my neck to see if he's crying in the office or something while simultaneously holding up traffic. Finally, my inner-honor student wins, and I pull into a parking space to go check on him. I know he's already gone to class, but I just have to make sure I don't need to sign him in or something.

It is at this moment that I realize being late is only the beginning of my problems.

1-- I let Laney pick out her own clothes because we weren't going to be getting out of the car -- or so I thought. I can't, of course, leave her in the car while I run into the school. Not because I am responsible but because she follows directions about as well as the tree in our backyard, and I have no doubt that she would wait until I got in the school to let herself out of the van and go play in traffic.

I say all of that to say that Laney is wearing a long-sleeved, multi-colored, striped, velour shirt embellished with a butterfly. The top itself is cute, but when paired with plaid shorts that are too small so her belly hangs out over the top and scuffed white tennis shoes with no socks -- not to mention her CRAZY morning hair-- the look is not flattering.

2 -- Sam's blanket does not match his outfit. (While not a big deal to most, please remember that I am a little OCD about things matching or at least complementing... and the outfit/blanket faux pas is bad -- navy on the outfit while there's black on the blanket -- huge problem for me. I am president of the Black and Navy Do Not Go Together club.)

3 -- I have not brushed my teeth.

4 -- I have a ball cap jammed on top of my unbrushed hair...which I wore curly yesterday... which translates to a rat's nest today.

5 -- (This is by far the worst.)
I am wearing a Tiger Town Tavern tshirt.
Leftover from my 21st birthday.
Which was 10 years ago.

Now, I love this tshirt. It is one of the most comfortable items of clothing that I own. It is not, however, something I wear out in public. First, it is ragged. Second, it has holes. Third, the back is decorated with a large tiger lounging in an even bigger beer mug framed by the words "21st BIRTHDAY! I'M LEGAL!!!"

This is not the way I want to present myself to the office staff at my son's school.

I have no choice, however, because I am paranoid that he won't be admitted to school because we were late.

I take a deep (unbrushed teeth) breath and get out of the van. After I unbuckle Sam, who is unable to defend himself in light of the outfit/blanket fashion disaster, I get Laney the Ultimate Fashion Victim out of the car and start across the parking lot.

I'm pretty sure the other parents were staring, pointing, and taking pictures with their cell phones to forward to their friends.

I am mortified.

While I have relaxed my personal appearance standards since becoming a mom, I am not a sloth, and I do not make public appearances while inappropriately groomed. I brush my teeth. I at least pull my hair up in a casual-yet-somewhat-chic bun or ponytail. I don't put on full make-up, but I at least throw on some clear gloss and powder.

And I don't wear shirts with big beer mugs on them to any sort of school function.

Not only that, but my children look like I just picked them up from the homeless shelter... which is where I probably left them while I went out trolling bars and picking up ratty tshirts.

The walk across the parking lot is bad enough. I hope that I can just duck in and duck out without garnering any more attention, but of course, that would be too easy.

And, so, it gets worse.

The first set of doors of the school lead into a small foyer, where there are a second set of doors and a door to the office. The second set of doors stays locked during the school hours, so all visitors really have to go to the front office.... meaning there are about 10 people in the front office at this point.

We walk in, and all of them -- including the kids -- turn around and stare.

I'm not kidding.

After waiting in line for what seems like hours, it is my turn to talk to the staff.

I can almost see the fright on their faces.

I start explaining why I am there and, in typical Amy fashion, become totally flustered because a) I realize I sound crazy and b) I know that I -- as well as my kids -- look crazy... and the women behind the counter are looking at me like they are ready to call the police while using the tones of voice that crisis negotiators use to keep crazy hostage-takers from going over the edge.

I try to explain that I dropped Ethan off in the drop-off zone right around 7:50 and watched him walk into the school, only to realize I might need to sign him in... but I don't see him, so I'm assuming that he's made it into school...

And I realize that I sound like I pushed him out of the car while driving by but came back to make sure he actually went into school instead of playing hooky to burn down a local barn or something.

The secretary gives the school nurse a look, and they both start looking through their sign-in sheets and pass booklets, saying they don't think they signed him in.

I know they didn't sign him in because he went on into the school; I just want to know if I need to sign him in anyway.

So I start trying to re-explain, which only makes matters worse, and Laney is standing there, making loud sucking noises on her pacifier (which I didn't take away from her before we left because she'd just gotten up), looking like the poster child for a charity case next to her me, her mother, who looks like an illustration out of the Bad Mom manual that DSS gives out... and finally I just stop talking.

I realize that people in the office are looking at Laney and Sam and thinking, "It's not their fault, bless them. Look at their mama!" (In my head, I hear them saying this in Mary's voice because Mary has much sympathy and compassion for disadvantaged children and much disdain for lazy, good-for-nothing parents... and I'm pretty sure these people think we fall into these categories.)

I want to say, "Look. I wasn't planning on getting out of the car. I dressed in ratty clothes because I'm going home to clean house. My kids are not homeless or disadvantaged. I am a clothes-nazi, and they've never made public appearances before today in mismatched clothes or with unbrushed hair. I don't drink excessively in college bars while my kids sit outside in the car. I am a teacher, with a college education, on maternity leave because I just had my third child in 5 years because I am Fertile Myrtle, and I've been up all hours of the night because I couldn't sleep, and I am not irresponsible or a bad parent or a social derelict! I'm just having a bad morning!"

Right before I open my mouth to begin my tirade, I realize that saying all of this will only make me look more guilty... and so finally, with the school nurse looking at me with concern from behind the counter, I just mumble my thanks, back out of the office (so as not to give anyone behind the counter a full view of the Tiger in a Beer Mug graphic), and practically run to the car, Sam and Laney tow, cheeks aflame.

I'm not sure, but I'm thinking I won't be asked to be a class mom this year...

Things I Am Not Prepared to Deal With...

2008-10-12T14:09:00.003-04:00

There are some things for which one can find little-to-no guidance in the parenting books.

Ethan, being the astute age of 5, is starting to notice and/or comment on sometimes funny, sometimes awkward things that catch us off guard.

I started noticing this around the time that Pop died.

I wasn't sure what, if anything, Ethan would understand or remember. As it turns out, he remembers a lot, and in the months that followed, he would ask questions or make comments about memories of Pop, the wake, or the funeral.

As it happens, I don't have great in-the-moment reflexes, so I'd start crying (because 1) that seems to be the one emotional reaction I really cannot control and 2) I really miss my Pop), and then K would have to explain all kinds of fun stuff about why Mommy acts like a moron.

I hoped he would outgrow this stage -- and he has stopped asking about Pop -- but now it manifests in different ways... like last night at bath time:

"Daddy, I think there's a hole in my hiney. I'm pretty sure that's where poop comes from."

Correct -- Yes.
Awkward -- Um hmm.

Thank goodness he addressed this one to K.

Sometimes, though, I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing... like this morning.

Ethan and Laney got up around 6:30 (see yesterday's post for important background). Sam woke up around the same time... which meant that I got up, too, while K slept.

Impressive talent, I know. I think he's part sloth because he's able to sleep for 47 straight hours.

Finally, after much breakfasting, cartooning, and talking, K joined us in the den.

Ethan: "Daddy, why don't you get up with the rest of us?"

K: (Momentary pause.)

E: (Staring at Daddy expectantly, waiting for an answer.)

K: (Finally) Because I'm lazy.

I, meanwhile, tried not to laugh out loud but wasn't terribly successful. I ended up having to fake a coughing fit.

The thing is, I need warning. I have what I call "Inappropriate Response Syndrome," meaning I usually react in the exact opposite way that I should... like when K practically dislocated his knee-cap on the foot board of the bed last week.

He doubled over in pain while I, again, tried to disguise my laughter as a coughing fit.

Didn't work.

I should mention that it absolutely infuriates K when my IRS shows up when he hurts himself. Two of the maybe three times I saw K lose his temper before we got married involved me laughing at the wrong time... once when he whacked his head on a nail at a public picnic shelter and once when he spilled an entire bowl of salsa in his lap at a restaurant.

I should also mention that the more angry he gets, the harder I laugh.

I really do try to stop, but it's like laughing in church or at a funeral. I just cannot control it.

This got me in a heap of trouble growing up... especially in church or when I got in trouble. Something -- usually absurd, like Fanny J. Crosby's name in the hymnal or the way my dad's eyebrow hair sometimes grows over his glasses-- would strike me as hysterical, and the laughter would just have to come out.

I thought maybe I would grow out of it, but it really seems to be getting worse and extending to other areas, such as saying things that I shouldn't... like telling Ethan to "clobber that kid next time he grabs your jersey."

I, uh, don't like for people to pick on Ethan. It makes me angry.

You wouldn't like me when I'm angry.

(Sorry. I couldn't resist. I loved The Incredible Hulk when I was growing.)

Anyway, I'm really not that scary when I'm angry, but I do have a little trouble controlling what I say -- or sometimes even coming up with something to say -- if I'm caught off guard. I think Laney may have inherited this from me because she, too, doesn't respond appropriately when angry or upset or startled.

Me: "Laney, would you rather eat your dinner or go to bed?"

Laney: "Go to bed."

Who chooses that option?

Me: "Laney, if you don't put these clothes on right now, I'm going to pop your hiney!"

Laney: "Pop me."

Hello?!?!? No one is supposed to ask for that!

Sigh. It's going to be a long rest of my life...

FIVE WHOLE DAYS!!

2008-10-11T16:01:00.002-04:00

Well, now.

How proud am I of myself?!?!

Five posts. Five days. AND a new look.

I'm not sure if I'm crazy about it yet.... I love the background, but it's hard to find a text color that shows up across the page.

Hmm.

Anyway, here it is -- Saturday @ the Jennings' house.

Pretty dang eventful, if I do say so myself.

It started this morning around 7 a.m. when Ethan came downstairs and got in bed... where I was sleeping, sitting up, holding Sam because he refused to sleep in his bassinet for more than, like, 4.2 minutes at a time.

Next came Laney, just a few minutes later...Yes, that's right. 5 people in our bed. Not ideal conditions for sleeping, unless you are K, who just rolled over and continued his peaceful slumber while Laney and Ethan fussed and argued and wrestled for "sleeping" positions.

I say "sleeping" because neither of them slept.

Obviously, I didn't get to sleep either.

Ethan whispered to himself. Laney sang. I tried to pretend I was asleep until Ethan pressed his nose to mine, at which point my claustrophobic tendencies came out and I had to move away so I could breathe. That disrupted Sam's sleep, so he started snorting loudly and sort of crying.

Finally, I just said, "To heck with it!" and got up. (I didn't say it out loud, however, because it would be something Ethan would pick up and start repeating... like he did with "Dadgummit!"... in Sunday School... except it came out "Damgummit!" instead...)

K at least waited until we were all out of the bed before he sprawled out across the sheet, still sleeping.

So, I made breakfast for the big kids... fed and changed the little kid... watched some cartoons with all three kids and Lindsey, my favorite little cousin/au pair... and still, Keith slept.

I showered, got dressed, got Ethan dressed, refereed a couple of fights, had meaningful conversation with Laney... and still, K slept.

FINALLY, right before I took Ethan to the birthday party, K got up and moved to the couch... where he's been for most of the day, watching football, while I dropped Ethan off, came back, fed & changed Sam, left with Laney and Sam and Lindsey to go pick up Ethan, ran some errands, took Lindsey home, visited with my parents, came home, fed Sam, checked on Ethan, took Laney to the potty, and Facebooked in between.

K is not asleep at this moment, but he is laying on the couch.

Still.

And, since LSU doesn't play until 8 pm tonight, the couch is where he'll stay until late tonight.

I thought we might actually accomplish something last week because both Clemson and LSU had Saturday off... but he developed a short-term infatuation with the other 12 teams that were playing that day...

Don't get me wrong -- I love some college football, and I do enjoy spending the day watching games... IF I could actually watch the games in peace.

Have I mentioned that we have three kids and that peace is not really something we have a lot of around our house?

In addition to some rare form of narcolepsy, I also think K has incredibly impressive selective hearing... as in he only hears what's coming out of the TV.

I love him, but sometimes, I think I may have actually married Bernie... as in the dead guy from "Weekend at...".

I don't see how anyone can block out that much noise and mayhem unless he/she is actually lacking a pulse.

As a result, though, I have developed my own sort of malady which doesn't have a technical name yet, but I believe it is equally annoying to K.

I call it the I-Don't-Cook,-Clean,-Or-Do-Anything-Productive-While-He's-Watching-Football disease.

It's crippling, really.

I can't seem to find the energy (or will) to do anything remotely related to housework... which means that around 6 pm tonight, K will rouse from his stupor to ask, "What's for dinner?" to which I will respond with " " accompanied by a blank look.

This will annoy him beyond words... although not quite as much as the imprint of his body on our sofa annoys me.

Yeah... he's asleep again... rough life, camped out on the couch, eating pop-tarts and holding Sam (who sleeps 20 out of 24 hours in a day...)... has to require sleeping in and taking 47 naps in one day...

I may have to resort to fifth-grade slumber party techniques, like dipping his hand in water and freezing his bra....

Four days; Four posts!

2008-10-10T08:58:00.004-04:00

I really do think four days might be a record of in-a-row posts, and I'm so excited that I decided to celebrate by having cookies for breakfast. Yum!

Now, these are not your average cookies.

(For the record, I feel that I should've taken a picture of cookies -- plural -- since I'm writing about cookies -- plural -- but... I've already eaten all but this one. Sorry.)

Anyway, these cookies are honestly the best cookies I have ever put into my mouth... and this girl has had her share of chocolate chip cookies.

My friend Lindsay made these as part of a dinner that she brought for us in honor of Swimmer's arrival.

Now, Lindsay is known amongst our friends as the cook, which is something because we have quite a few chefs among us.

No one ever misses Bunco at Lindsay's house unless it's absolutely neccessary because Lindsay always makes the best food (and she's a fabulous hostess).

When we have events that require us to bring food, everyone always asks what Lindsay brought, and whatever the dish, it always disappears pretty quickly.

Anyway, when Lindsay brought these (packaged in a stack wrapped in clear cellophane and tied with a blue bow -- typical Lindsay presentation that looks like it came straight out of a magazine), I knew I'd have a hard time keeping K out of them.

I do love a good cookie, but K is, like, Cookie Monster compared to me. The man loves his cookies and milk more than any preschooler I've ever met...

Anyway, he got into them within minutes of getting home, and he said, "Wow! These are great!" but I kind of took that with a grain of salt because 1) Lindsay made them, so I didn't expect any less, and 2) K loves cookies but I don't trust his taste buds' discernment. He also loves Oreos, which make me want to vomit.

Anyway, I held off until yesterday. I noticed that K had broken a cookie in half for Ethan for a snack before dinner the night before (yes, I know -- Parents of the Year material for feeding our kid a cookie before dinner...), and I thought, "Hm. I think I'll finish that off."

Let me insert here that I fully intended to save the other cookies for dessert for dinner tonight.

Now, let's go back to the top of the entry where I stated that I'd eaten all but the one lone cookie pictured.

Obviously, I finished off more than just that half.

Once I took a bite, those cookies became a sort of obsession. I kept thinking about them yesterday until finally, I ate another... and then another last night... and then finished them off for breakfast.

Sidenote: This is the second food obsession I've had this week. Earlier, my cousin Paige and her mom brought a delicious dinner complete with cupcakes decorated with monogrammed flags inserted into each cake. Now, I love monogrammed things, and I love cupcakes, so you can imagine my sheer ecstasy at having monogrammed cupcakes!!!! So excited that I ate, um, most of them.

So, here I am, at 9:43 am on Friday morning, having polished off the rest of these incredibly fabulous cookies and a Diet Coke for breakfast, and now I have a dilemma:

What am I going to tell Keith?

I mean, honestly, the man won't be surprised. He's been married to me for almost 9 years; it's not like my appetite is really a secret. It's just that he says I always finish off the good stuff... chocolate chip pizza, pizza, good leftovers... before he has a chance.

He's not going to be pleased about the cookies.

In my defense, I tell him that if he wants something, he needs to let it be known. If you don't put your claim on something in the fridge, I feel like it's up for grabs... and I'll probably grab it.

Maybe I can get Lindsay to send me the recipe, and I can make some before he gets home....

Three Days in a Row

2008-10-09T12:39:00.003-04:00

I'm pret-ty proud of myself. I'm going for a bigger goal, but I won't say what... don't want to jinx myself.

Anyway, you might've noticed that I've added some stuff to the layout... like a "Followers" section (feel free to jump on the bandwagon) and a "Blogs" section. FYI, Clemson Girls -- Whoorl is pretty much back to her normal self.

At any rate, I'm sure I had something in mind to write about when I started, but this football game on tv is doing a number on my concentration abilities.

I may, at any moment, go into cardiac arrest if somebody doesn't do something soon!!!

Will write more tomorrow when I can focus...

Ahhh Yeah....

2008-10-08T14:57:00.004-04:00

Two days in a row! I'm going for a record....

First, I have to laugh because I snapped this picture of Laney this morning:

I fell asleep last night after dinner, and I didn't see what she picked out to wear to bed. (Have I mentioned that she's a little headstrong and that we go rounds over what she wears in public? I have relinquished the bedtime battle as long as she's not spending the night away.)

Anyway, sometime during the night, she came and climbed in bed with K & me, but it was dark. This morning, sometime way before I wanted to get up, the alarm went off, and I began my daily routine of trying to oust K from the bed.

(It goes something like this:

The alarm goes off at 5:30-ish.... Keep in mind, I just went to sleep after feeding Swimmer. -- (Me): Keith, get up.

(Keith): *muffled snarffle*

I hit the snooze.

This repeats every five minutes until around 6:30, when I finally lose patience.

"Keith! Get up right now! It's 6:30, and you're going to be late for work!"

I won't type what I really want to say... and I've tried all the alternatives... Putting the alarm clock on the floor across the room... putting the alarm on his side of the bed... not waking him up... setting the alarm later since he never gets up the first 564 times I try... none of it works... I've decided this is my curse in life.)

After I FINALLY got him to get out of bed, I got up and started getting Ethan ready. Sometime between 6:30 and 7:15, Laney decides to wake up. I was fixing Ethan's hair in the bathroom, when I hear this really annoyed little voice demanding, "Whah's mah pink banket?!?!"

(Translation: "What did you peons do with my pink blanket, and why isn't it waiting on me when I get up?! Off with your heads!")

The princess has arisen. Let the bowing down begin.

I turn and see her standing on our bed, hands on hips, in a white tank top and a pull-up, hair all askew, pacifier in mouth.

"Uh, is she wearing a wife beater?" I ask.

"I don't know." K answers. He's obviously a morning person.

"Laney. What do you have on?" I ask.

"Shaht, Mommy. Wid pig." (That'd be "A shirt, Mommy. With a pig on it.")

Oh. Um. Ok. Now, she's worn this before, but it has a cute little matching bottom that goes with it -- as in a matching set of pjs. In that context, it is not wife-beaterish, at all.

When paired with a pull-up... it's a little scary... like she's going to be the cover of Gretchen Wilson's next single, "Redneck Princess."

So, knowing my semi-conscious state of shock at her wearing a wife beater, you can imagine how much more shocked I was to come into the den to find her wrapped up in our cheetah print blanket.

Now, I love this blanket, and -- until the kids got a hold of it -- it was a lovely accent piece. Like the cute pig tank, when used in this fashion, it looks a little park-ish.

And I don't mean the kind of park where we go to play.

I'm thinking Laney could be a regular on "My Name is Earl."

It's Me, Again, Margaret...

2008-10-07T13:33:00.007-04:00

Did anyone else listen to Ray Stevens growing up? Ah, those were the days... riding to school with my mom and brother, listening to our favorite Ray Stevens' tape... My favorite song was "Clyde the Camel."

Little makes me laugh harder than Ray Stevens making camel sounds.

Anyway, I'm way behind, I know with the whole posting thing, but now... now I'm on maternity leave.

Let the posting begin!

Obviously, a lot has happened since that last post way back in August.

First and foremost, Swimmer has arrived!!! Samuel ("Sam") Keith is here, and Ethan in 2-0 for baby predictions! We're going to pimp his talents on ebay to finance college for our growing brood of children.

Anyway, Sam was the smallest of our three at birth -- 8 lbs. 3 oz. -- but he's gaining weight at an oddly rapid rate, so we're sure he belongs to us. He likes to eat like the rest of the family.

Laney and Ethan are adjusting well to his arrival, as are we. He is a great baby -- sleeps anywhere from 3-5 hours at a time, eats, and then goes back to sleep... loves to snuggle... doesn't cry unless he's hungry or wet. Now if we could only get him to teach the other two those behaviors...

The hardest thing thus far is explaining certain things. Even with the other two, there are certain things I just haven't been prepared for... like Ethan wanting to feed Sam... from his own chest.

That's a moment they don't cover in the Mommy books.

Fortunately, the vague "Only mommies can feed babies" explanation seems to have worked. I didn't want to scar the kid for life.

Laney, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be too concerned about present technicalities but is more confused by the fact that Swimmer is no longer in my belly.

She keeps trying to communicate with him via my belly button (which she learned from Ethan, who swears that's how babies hear when they're in the belly), and I'm like, "Hello?!?! He's in the bassinet, not in the belly." She gives me this quizzical look -- "Are you serious?" and then we repeat this at least once a day, every day. I hope she'll give it up before she goes away to college.

Other than minor issues as such, things are going well. On occasion, K & I look at each other and wonder what we've gotten ourselves into... like on Saturday mornings when all twelve kids come bounding in at once and climb in the bed with us... or when we try to go somewhere in public (like Wil's football game last night) because it seemed like a good idea at the time..., but for every "WHOA!" moment, we have many more "Sweet!" moments... like when Laney bumbles over to Sam, kisses him, and proclaims in her best Princess voice, "I wub Sam so!"... or when Ethan tells people that he's going to teach Sam to read and play football and soccer.

All kidding aside, we really are blessed with an incredible family as well as amazing friends and relatives who have gone out of their ways to make Sam's arrival unbelievably special. We thank God every day for our blessings. Since most of the blog readers are also our peeps, that includes you guys. Thanks so much for all of the love, meals, gifts, and well-wishes you all have sent our way. We love you!

Summer

2008-08-12T17:22:00.001-04:00

is almost officially over for me.

Boo.

Winds of Change...

2008-08-08T08:01:00.003-04:00

I cannot believe I have to go back to school in less than a week.

This is totally stressing me out.

There's actually a lot changing around here, and really, all I want to do is pile up on the couch, go to sleep, and pretend everything is normal.

I'm not against change; I actually like it, most of the time. It's just that there's so much going on. I need to be able to process, and apparently I don't process quit this fast.

For example, Laney is pretty much potty trained, with the exception of an occasional accident... which usually happens in public. I can now say I've been peed on by one of my kids.

For the record, I didn't like it.

I always have a change of clothes for Laney; I don't usually, however, carry one for myself.... little reminds you more that you are grown up and a mommy than walking around the grocery store with a pee stain the size of a beach ball on your shirt.

On the other hand, she is growing very, very, very, very independent.

I should really add a few more "very"s to that.

Her favorite phrase is "I do it myseeefffff!"

This drives me crazy on at least one occasion (usually more like 573 occasions) per day... like when she insists on buckling her own seat belt... at her own pace... which is 754 light years behind my schedule... OR when I try to dress her... Or put her shoes on... OR even pick out her shoes...

You get the idea.

I love that she is independent. It's just that she must realize that I am The Queen, and I make the rules.

Also, Ethan starts 5K in less than 2 weeks.

I had my first good cry over this last night.

I do believe K thinks that I am crazy and/or severely hormonal...

But in fairness to me, I am always this way when it comes to Ethan. I worry about him because he wears his heart on his sleeve, and his little feelings get hurt so easily... unlike his sister, who would just as soon punch you in the eye if you don't agree with her....

Anyway, it's just hard to believe that this time five years ago, he was just 3 1/2 months old... and now he thinks he's pretty much grown...

Sigh.

I know, I know. Moving on.

Of course, there's also the impending arrival of Swimmer... which will be on my birthday.

First, I'm still not sure about how I feel about the whole birthday bit. I, uh, am a bit of a birthday freak... as in, I l.o.v.e. my birthday. Love it. Love it. Love it. Neither being unconscious nor the idea of undergoing major surgery on my birthday ranks high on my list of "Favorite Ways to Celebrate."

Cake, presents, unlimited birthday attention -- YES!
Major incision where they take all of your guts out and make origami out of your insides -- Not so much.

On the other hand, I do think it will be totally cool to share birthdays with Swimmer for the rest of our lives. My dad, the ever-round and cuddly Toad, and my Pop share the same birthday, and I always thought that was really neat.

*For the record, I am very glad this kid isn't sharing K's birthday...which falls on or near Thanksgiving... because I'd never get rid of the whole "Thanksgiving feast @ our house" celebration.

Anyway, I am also so ready to have this pumpkin that I'd agree to any day, as long as it gets here soon. And, of course, it's not every day that you get a kid on your birthday. What an incredible present!

Kind of makes all other gifts pale in comparison....

(Remind me of that when he/she is 3 weeks old, not sleeping through the night, and colicky.)

AND on top of all of this, I go back to school next week, which means no more mid-day naps... no fun trips with the kids... no snuggling on the couch early in the morning...

I should probably be very pleasant next week.

Consider yourself warned. :-)

I'm A Little Disappointed...

2008-07-24T14:35:00.022-04:00

that no one else seems to be amused by the mullet picture. :-( I still laugh every time I see it.

Anyway, life is just chugging along here in P-town.

I went to the doctor earlier this week, and all is well in Swimmer's world. He/she is -- as the doctor so politely noted -- "a chubby little thing," weighing in at 4.5 lbs. so far.

That didn't trigger any alarms until I got home and found out via internet that a typical baby at this point weighs about 3 lbs.

Shocking. Our other two kids were 9 lbs. and 8.5 lbs. respectively. I wasn't really expecting this one to be any different, but it's still slightly alarming to hear that your child is already in the 93rd percentile for size before he/she "really starts gaining weight."

On another note, we are trying to potty-train Laney. She has totally immersed herself in the idea.

We have yet to be able to convince her that she does not have to be one with the potty in order to successfully potty train.

This has resulted in a lot of gagging on my part and a lot of baths for her. (Yes, I threw away the comb as well as washed the dress and Laney in hot water with lots of soap. Our toilets are clean, but that doesn't mean we're going to bathe in them.)

Ethan has also chosen this summer to assert his individuality, which he often chooses to express through his choices in clothing.

We haven't been able to convince him, either, that items of the same color should not always be worn together, such as brown socks and brown Chuck Taylor's.

He usually responds to my gentle fashion guidance by saying, "Mommy, it will be fine.Don'tworry."

But I do worry... mostly that people are laughing at my precious little child.

Have I mentioned that two weeks ago he wore his bike helmet to the skating rink? "For protection," he said.

Yes; people did laugh. I was one of them.

Never a dull day...

I am impressed...

2008-07-15T08:35:00.005-04:00

by me.

It's been a banner day in J-Town today, and it's only 8:36 a.m.

By the end of the day, I may have figured out the key to world peace.

This morning, bright and early, I saved a bird. It somehow mishapped into our screened-in backporch; by the time I realized it was there, the bird was seriously freaking out.

I am not scared of birds, but I don't really like sudden movements from wild animals that could poke my eyes out... so I've never really tried too hard to do more than appreciate them from afar.

(Random sidenote: we spent hours as children snuggled up in Granny B.'s back den, watching the birds at the bird feeder. We were probably the only people under 50 who could distinguish a goldfinch from a titmouse. Still -- we only looked at them from the window. No interaction.)

Anyway, when K. left for work, he wasn't too concerned. "It'll find it's way out," he said in his wise-sage voice... but it worried me that the bird couldn't seem to figure out that there was a big open space for escape (otherwise known as a door).

So, when he left, I took matters into my own hands.

Literally.

I tried, at first, to talk it out of its frenzy.

Much like my children as well as my students, it didn't listen... and my presence seemed to upset it more.

I tried opening the other door so it would have TWO avenues of escape, but that didn't seem to help, either.

Finally, I took a deep breath and channeled my inner-nature-girl.

At first, I contemplated pulling a Crocodile Hunter-like move: gently scooping it up into my bare hands and carrying it to freedom.

That vision was interrupted by a second vision of the bird tearing the flesh from my bones, so I scrapped that idea.

Finally, I settled on a compromise.

I cornered the bird into one screen pane with the mop, and then I used the dog food scoop to gently trap the frenzied beast while holding onto its tailfeathers (all the while thinking, "I am going to have to wash my hands in scalding water! Birds have all kinds of germs on their feathers!" Please remember I was raised by Mayree who harbors much disdain for all germs everywhere.).

In one swift, cat-like movement, I shoveled the bird from the screen to the open door and set it free!

(Cheers all around!)

At this point, I realized that I was stalking around my backporch in a large tshirt and my undies, so I decided to take the party inside before my neighbors called the police.

Once inside, after scalding the skin off of my arms up to my elbows to remove bird germs and celebrating my second calling as an animal rescuer, I decided to tackle another daunting task: figuring out how to connect my camcorder/digital camera to the computer.

I've been working on this one for a while, but seeing as how I misplaced some important stuff... like the instruction book, driver software, and USB cable... this has been difficult.

As of last night, I'd finally managed to gather what I thought was the right USB cable and the instruction manual.

This morning, fresh off of my bird victory, I marched upstairs to tackle the technological beast.

And I won.

Sort of.

I can at least upload pictures to my computer...

Like this one, which I snapped this weekend while on vacation @ Folly with the fam. Nothing says, "South Carolina beach" like a mullet blowing in the wind.

Now, I just have to figure out how to upload the videos. (The computer keeps saying some program doesn't recognize the video file. Pttthhhttt.)

Still, I feel like today has been a success.

Maybe not so much of a success that I'll clean out the bonus room, but still... a success overall.

Tah-Dahhh!!!!

2008-07-02T17:51:00.005-04:00

Yesterday, we loaded up the fam -- both kids and my parents -- into the MV and went to a place called Vision of Life and proceeded to thoroughly invade Swimmer's privacy.

Now, I feel like this is the 50th ultrasound I've had, but really, it's only the 4th. I've already had on 3D-4D, but it's a little different having one done in a sterile doctor's office (although the tech and the doctor were both very nice and gave us pretty pictures). This time, we were able to sit back and relax and just check out Swimmer's behavior in his (or her -- we still don't know) natural habitat.

At first, he/she wouldn't move his/her hands, so it was difficult to get a good shot. (For the record, referring to the baby as a he/she makes me a little uncomfortable, but I guess that's my own fault, eh?)

And here he is, in all of his/her smiling glory. If the weirdness of this photo freaks you out, do not fret. It totally freaks me out, but I like it because he/she is mine.

That crazy stuff around his/her head is the placenta, in which he/she totally likes to burrow his/her head. That thing that could be mistaken for something gender-specific is actually the umbilical cord, which he/she also digs.

Both of these fascinations concern me a little, considering the placenta and cord deliver vital stuff to the kid, but I've been reassured that it's alright. Apparently, God figured the kids might play with that stuff and made both pretty durable.

I will say that Swimmer is currently pretty much folded in half, which was the case with Ethan... so I'm expecting him/her to be of decent size.

I will also say that K and I were kind of taken aback to see how much Swimmer resembles Ethan at birth. We have a picture of E, taken a few weeks after his birth, that we call the "Mad Monkey" picture.

(E spent a good bit of his first months looking like an angry gorilla. Fortunately, he outgrew this.)

Anyway, at one point, Swimmer ducked out from behind his placental hiding place, and my mouth dropped open.

He looks so much like E in the Mad Monkey picture... minus the scowl.

We did confirm that it looks like Baby Swimmer may look more like me (and the other two kids)... as the ultrasound man said, "The baby has a nice broad nose."

Thanks. Like I need any encouragement to be a little insecure about my appearance at this point.

Anyway, he/she has Toad's nose and what appears to be my lips. Since both of the other bambinos are blessed with K's beautiful eyes, I think Swimmer may be, too.

K was not surprised to find this out, although we were both secretly hoping this one would look like him. Not that having three miniature Toads is bad, but I wanted people to say, "Wow! He/she looks so much like K!" instead of "Wow! Your kids look so much like you!" or "That has to be Ken's grandchild! He/She looks just like him!" (Ken is Toad's real name.)

Of course, years down the road, this could be a curse, especially if the kids go to school here. Since most of the teachers that had me are still teaching, the kids may automatically get preferential seating to prevent them from talking....

A Veritable Smorgasboard....

2008-06-25T22:57:00.003-04:00

Well.

How many of you are shocked that I haven't blogged in over a month?

Anyway, much excitement since the last entry... pictures will follow as soon as I figure out how to upload them from my new camera.

First and foremost, I am out of school for the summer.

Praise God! Hallelujah!

After much contemplation over the last days of school, I decided that high school students are crazy, as well as that I am insane for thinking that I like them. I am glad that it is summer; otherwise, I might not have been able to withhold the barrage of smart aleck comments that teeter on the tip of my tongue in response to their silly utterances.

Likewise, the district might not be able to withhold the immediate termination of my job were that barrage of comments to escape... thus, it is a fabulous thing that summer vacation came when it did.

Second, Swimmer is getting huge, and I am pretty dang cranky. More on that later.

Third, it is vacation time, which -- for the J-Town inhabitants -- means craziness. K and I took a trip to NYC to see my Yankees play in their final season at historic Yankee Stadium. Despite the drunk people sitting next to us (who weren't even Yank fans!), the game was *sigh* incredible.... as was seeing the city with my fabulous hubby (his first time!) AND not having multiple children in tow (besides Swimmer, who goes everywhere with us at this time...).

The kids and I just got back from the beach with my Clemson girls (as well as our 9! kids), which was -- as always -- lots o' fun. I do think I have heartburn, and I also hope that Laney has 12 kids just like herself when she grows up because I did consider selling her to the highest bidder on a couple of occasions. One of the highlights of this year's trip was NOT having car trouble.

(Feel free to browse blogs from last summer if you missed the short novella on all of the transportation issues we had on last year's trip...)

We have a couple of other trips planned -- including a brief outing with my family, which always promises good stories.... like my dad threatening to go home last year after I dared get bent out of shape that they (as in the rest of the family) were late, causing us to miss our reservation to the famed Lady & Sons restaurant after I had gotten up at the crack of dawn (because no one else wanted to do so) to secure the reservation.

Now anyone who knows me knows that Toad, my cute little round father, is the apple of my eye. As cute and cuddly as he is, Toad is not a man that I talk back to, nor is he a man that I would normally cross, because 1) he is my father, 2) he has a rather vicious temper (I might add that I inherited this from him), and 3) he is just crazy enough that he might do the things he says (like send me to a boarding school for troubled kids -- which was enough, as a teenager, to keep me somewhat in line... even though I wasn't troubled, and I don't think he really would have sent me... but he didn't seem to be kidding...).

When the family finally arrived AFTER our required check-in time, bumping us to the END of the long, long reservation list, I was livid... to say the least. If I could've poked every single person there in the eye, I would have.

And I would've enjoyed it.

(For the record, I didn't care one bit about going to this place, although I am a Paula Deen recipe fan... My mom, sweet Mayree, had been talking about going for months... it was really all that she truly wanted to do on the trip.)

So... after I got up earlier than I even get up for school.... after I traipsed through pre-dawn Savannah by myself while the rest of my family snoozed... after I had to wait in a long, long, long line (which I don't do -- ever -- unless it's for something REALLY good... like a 75% off sale)... I was more than a little irate that the rest of the family (being chauffered by K) didn't get there in time...meaning my entire morning had been a waste.

Now -- had my dad gotten up for this task, things would have been different. First, we wouldn't have been eating there because my dad does not wait in line. Period. Sale or no sale. Second, if the rest of us hadn't shown up at the right time, he would've turned red and ballooned up like a blowfish and possibly gone postal on the entire city of Savannah.

I felt that my seething rage -- which was pretty well contained -- was justified.

The rest of my family didn't seem to understand... which multiplied the rage like water multiplied the Gremlins.

They actually kept asking me what was wrong. My dad kept trying to get me to cheer up.(Valuable sidenote: it is not wise to continue to provoke an obviously angry person.)

Finally, I spouted off some furious blurb from between clenched teeth about how none of them (have I mentioned that?) wanted to listen to me (who had been to the restaurant and experienced the reservation process before) when I told them we all needed to go into Savannah early... and that I hoped they all enjoyed sleeping in because I certainly enjoyed standing in line alone like a beggar at a soup kitchen... and that next time we needed reservations to go somewhere, they could get up and get their own if they couldn't be anymore considerate.

I'm not exactly sure what I said... but it was something like that.

As soon as I said it, I thought, "Oh my gosh. My life, as I know it, is over because my dad is going to rip me apart, limb by limb, for talking to him like that."

It seemed like time froze... and it was on.

He started turning an odd shade of beet red... which morphed into an unhealthy purplish hue... while I waited, in horror, for him to snatch me up in the middle of Savannah in front of my children.

You can imagine my surprise when he just spat, "Fine. I'll pack my things and go home."

I was so surprised, in fact, that my tongue again began to speak without my permission.

"Fine, " I retorted. "Do what you gotta do."

I don't know who was more surprised -- him or me. I've always been much more vocal than my brother, so I don't think he was surprised that I had something to say... it's just that even on my worst day, during our worst disagreement, I've never been brave (or stupid) enough to say something that brazen.

Thankfully, he seems to have mellowed in his, um, older age, and he just stalked off a little ways down the street. I returned to glowering by a street lamp, and the possibilities of atomic hazard dissipated.

Mayree, as usual, was amazed that Toad didn't launch me into the river or at the least yell...

K, on the other hand, made a good point: my dad taught hand-to-hand combat in the Army, for Pete's sake. Why would I intentionally provoke him?!?!? (This might be a good time to add that K has a healthy respect/fear of Toad... or at least what he thinks Toad might do...)

Needless to say, after that, the mood was pretty much shot... compounded by the fact that the air wasn't working in the restaurant... and then that the power went out while we were eating... and then that it was 879 degrees in the shade that day.

Toad and I haven't spoken of that little exchange since, which is kind of our way... neither of us is big on apologies... especially when we don't think we're totally in the wrong... but you can totally see why you should wait with bated breath for stories from our upcoming vacation... right? :-)

Take me out to the ballgame...

2008-05-13T14:20:00.012-04:00

One of my favorite activities of spring is going to ballgames.

Don't really care whose game or where it is.

Growing up, we used to traipse to my dad's softball games. As a little kid, going to the playground was the best part. Nothing like 574 turns on a rickety old merry-go-round to make you lose your concession stand dinner.

As I got older, I remember trolling the ballfields with my cousin Jennifer, looking for hot men. We learned quickly that rec ballfields are not the place to look for hot men... well, at least not hot men we could take home to meet Ken and Jimmy (our dads).

I've always had a fascination with baseball players, I guess. My first major teenage crush (sigh) was a guy named Matt. He was a pitcher, and he was H.O.T.

Too bad he was so H.O.T. that he was seeing, like, 6 other girls that summer.

Once I got to college, I didn't date any baseball players at Clemson -- although I did have a one-time disastrous formal date with a rookie second baseman who fell asleep on my couch and refused to leave.

In addition to being a squatter, he was also a mouth breather. Had to let him go.

Instead of dating sketchy ball players, I spent my spring afternoons stretched out on the metal bleachers at Tiger Field next to Toad, my all-time favorite date, watching ballgames, eating ice cream, and getting sunburned.

I did, however, meet an extremely H.O.T. guy post-college (well, my senior year), and as it turns out, he played baseball in college.

When we started dating, he was playing in a rec softball league. I was excited to find, upon attending my first game, that he was pretty good AND that he looked really good in his uniform. (Always a plus!)

Turns out, I wasn't the only one that noticed. A 40+ year-old woman (one of his co-workers) also had the hots for him and was ready to duke it out with me in the parking lot if I didn't give up my seat on the bleachers.

Fortunately for me, her friends (also his co-workers) were able to convince her that she wasn't really his girlfriend (since he'd not even shown the slightest interest in her), and I didn't have to show her my fabulous ninja skills.

After sitting on the bleachers for a season of games, rooting him on, he finally asked me to marry him.

I, of course, said yes.

It's not every day a man who looks that good in baseball pants proposes... :-)

Anyway, K. has continued to play ball here and there, and now Ethan is following in his steps with t-ball. Granted, E resembles my dad (a little short and squatty) more than my hubby, but still, he's pretty good on the field.

Spring for us now includes rec softball for K. and t-ball for E.

We spend a lot of family time at the ball field. From the above pictures, you can tell that a lot of our friends and their families spend quality time at the ball fields, too.

The top picture is of Laney and Reece. Don't mind that scary belly in teal behind them. That's just me and Swimmer.

In Picture #2, Laney and Reece are partaking of one of the variety of snacks in my ballfield cooler. Reece, being a good boy, only had two suckers (unbeknownst to his mother... Sorry, Jenn.). Laney had 4. You'll be seeing her as a candidate for what not to eat on the pedia-dentist's waiting room wall.

The bottom pictures shows the brood of Townville kids; E is the 1/2 kid in a navy shirt on the right side of the picture.

Now, this is what's fun. All of those kids in that bottom picture are on (or related to) someone on E's tball team, and I grew up with all of their parents. I know it probably sounds a little like in-breeding, but it's not... It's just a part of living in a small town.

Now, I'm not saying we aren't a little 'neck.... we yell at the referees -- even in church league, they have to be fair!... we bring our own lawn chairs... our kids eat from the concession stand and/or our never-ending bags o' stuff... but these are the things I loved, loved, loved when I was a kid, and I'm so grateful that my kids have an opportunity to grow up with that same small town atmosphere.

There's nothing like a good ballgame (with a pit stop at Dairy Queen afterward) to announce the arrival of spring...

American Idol

2008-05-01T08:55:00.004-04:00

I've never really understood the whole fascination with reality TV.

Now, I did love the first season of MTV's "Real World" back in the day... I wanted to be Julie, the Southern belle dancer who went to New York looking for a dance career but sort of found Eric Nies (hot guy turned MTV veejay). I wanted to be a dancer, and I would have been ecstatic to find someone as hot as Eric Nies when I was in college.

The whole idea of reality TV had just taken off and I thought I might be a good candidate because -- for whatever reason -- the whole "girl from the South" thing seemed to fascinate Hollywood, but like many risque things I've considered, I stopped short of auditioning for the show out of fear of what my dad would say or do.

Those of you who know my dad know that I am not kidding. He wouldn't think twice of showing up on the set and dragging me off into the sunset, spouting off words of wisdom like, "This is assanine, Amy!" No one would dare challenge him because he turns all red and looks a little scary when he gets miffed -- like a poisonous frog ready to shoot venom at anyone who gets in his path.

Anyway, I met K, my hot hunk-o-husband, and I didn't need Eric Nies anymore.... and I stopped dancing, so I didn't want to move to New York anymore (although I am considering auditioning for "So You Think You Can Dance" as incentive for losing the baby weight...).

I really just lost interest in reality TV after that... "Survivor" didn't strike a chord, nor did "The Bachelor." K and I did get kind of hooked into "Joe Millionaire," but we totally blame that on the fact that I was pregnant (with Ethan), sick at night, and didn't want to do much other than lay on the couch.

HOWEVER....

I am sort of an Idol junkie.

Not to the point of checking the website or voting or anything like that (yet)... but I am a faithful watcher, and this year -- for the first time -- I started getting a little antsy waiting for the next season.

It all started in the spring of 2005. K was living/working in A-town with my parents while Ethan and I finished up the school year in Knox-Vegas before making the big move that summer. My friend Amy N. and I started ordering Italian delivery from this little place in West Knoxville and watching the scary audition shows. It was all fun and games (and good food) until I saw one of my kids on there!

I don't know why, but I got so excited -- and I was hooked.

A lot of people say they hate watching those first shows, but really, it's kind of like my train wreck. I'm don't break my neck to look at wrecks and whatnot, but I will camp out on the couch to laugh at the freaks who audition for Idol.

K and I don't like the same kinds of music, so we have a great time intelligently debating the merits of those who make each rounds of cuts...

Me: "She looks like a terodactyl, so I don't think she's going very far."

K: "What does that have to do with her talent?!?"

Me: "Nothing. But how many terodactyls have you ever seen with successful singing careers? There's my point."

All of this brings me to my next revelation.

This season, I have been a big fan of Brooke, but I knew her time was coming to an end. What I don't understand is the fascination with David Archuleta. He's precious and whatnot, but I am not enamored with him or his talent.

Now, David Cook -- he rocks! He's talented, both vocally and instrumentally. I think he deserves to be in the top 4.

David Archuleta, while talented, isn't in the same league... and he looks like Max off of PBS's "Dragon Tales."

Disturbing resemblance, isn't it?

If Brooke and the other Austrailian rocker guy have to go, cute little David needs to go, too. I have a hard time taking him seriously because I keep expecting him to flit off to Dragon Land to visit Weezie and the other dragons.

Drum Roll....

2008-04-29T13:27:00.005-04:00

I think my brain is mush.

It's been almost two months since my last post... but I swear, my brain is not functioning in a blogging/writing sort of way.... and on top of that, I can't remember anything. I don't remember being this defunct with the other two, but then again, I probably won't remember this either.

Things -- like writing ideas, thoughts, etc. -- only show up in my mind in snippets... so I do a lot of drifting off in mid-sentence/mid-thought/etc.

Drives K. absolutely crazy.

"Finish your thought!" he'll bellow. I don't think the blank stare I give him in return helps. For someone who is laid back to the point of sometimes being comatose, he gets really agitated when I don't finish what I'm saying.

I've tried to point out that bellowing does not help me find my train of thought. It actually startles me, making the thoughts all jumble together... meaning I'll never remember what I was trying to say. Totally defeats the point of the bellowing to begin with.

Anyway, big news. I just returned from my big ultrasound.... and....

It's a surprise.

We decided early on that we didn't want to find out, and pleasantly enough, the kid cooperated. Wouldn't open his/her legs for anything. He/she has a perfect little profile and round belly... prefers to sleep on his/her belly as well. At this point, he/she is normal size... around the 67th percentile... so no massive bambino, as of yet. As the ultrasound lady was quick to point out, however, babies don't put on the majority of their weight until the third trimester, so there's hope still.

I'm hoping for a 10-pounder. Since I'll have a c-section, I'm not too concerned about how big he/she is.

Anyway, as odd as this is,I love my OB and look forward to my visits. He's really unique... very much his own person. He's from Cali... as in California.... and a little quirky. He is, seriously, one of the nicest people I've ever met in my entire life, and he is genuinely concerned about his patients. I had some blood issues when I had Laney, for example, and he actually came by to check on me while his wife was in surgery upstairs.

Keith and I joked a lot during my pregnancy with Laney that we kept expecting Doc to say things like, "Way cool!" or "Hang 10!".... as in "The little bambina is totally hangin' 10 in there!"

He didn't... but we kept hoping... :-) (I did find out that his brother is indeed a surfer, so at least we were close!)

He didn't totally disappoint us, though. In the delivery room, he gave an impromptu rendition of something from American Idol... until one of the nurses told him to stop. I don't remember what he sang because I was about 3 sheets in the wind... but I remember it being really funny.... and I remember wanting to laugh during most of the delivery because of his constant odd flow of conversation but not being able to... mostly because my brain and my body were totally not communicating under the influence of fabulous hospital drugs.

In fact, one of the few things (aside from the singing escapade) that I remember about the delivery room is that Doc laughed. A lot. At this point, I hope that he wasn't laughing at me... but I wasn't concerned then because he laughs all the time. If he'd been serious, I probably would've been freaked out. (He was very serious when he came to talk to me about the blood issues. Totally gave me the heebeejeebies.)

Back to today. After the ultrasound, K and I meet Doc in his office. He starts talking about my bloodwork, and while he's very serious, he describes issues with my blood by saying things like, "That's what tells the blood vessels to squeesh and stop bleeding."

It's hard to be very serious when your doctor is saying things like "squeesh"... but I figure words like that aren't easy to work into conversation about things that are really serious. On the other hand, neither K nor I know how to explain anything Doc said without using those words... He probably laughs every day, knowing his patients are going around explaining complicated medical things using words like "squoosh" and making funny sound effects.

At any rate, he rocks because he explains things in terms that I can understand and because he makes me laugh... unlike one of my other OBs from Knox-Vegas.

We called him The Big Tall Greek Doctor because, of course, he was huge. He was also the ninny that told me 4 weeks before delivery that my baby was going to be, at best, 6 1/2 lbs.

Whatever.

Ethan was 9 lbs. and ginormous.

Anyway,Big Tall Greek Doctor was nice enough, but I chose the other doctor, Dr. T., for my delivery because he was relatively amusing. It was a close call because Dr. T., despite his funniness, also looked alarmingly like a good friend's dad... and that kind of freaked me out. In the end, however, his humor was much more appealing. Plus, he didn't have freakishly large hands like Big Tall Greek Doctor. And thus the decision was made.

Dr. T. did a fabulous job -- minus the comment about me laying off the biscuits and gravy during my next pregnancy -- and managed to entertain me during the entire delivery (unscheduled c-section) by telling me, minutes before beginning, that I could do anything with my hands (which were laid out on this big cross-bar) except grab his butt.

I'm not kidding.

What did I do for the entire delivery? Try to will my hands to turn toward his butt. I didn't really want to grab it, but because it was my first experience with serious drugs, I was amazed by the fact that I could think things but not make my body or mouth obey. So, my train of thought for the entire delivery was, "Can I grab his butt? Hand, move. Move. Try to squeeze. Why aren't my fingers squeezing. How far away is his butt?"

You get the idea.

Post delivery, Big Tall Greek Doctor came in to check on me. Apparently, he was not pleased that I had not chosen him to deliver the baby/receive my next year's salary... and he was not pleasant. He pushed on my stomach -- hello, moron, I just had a c-section; that hurt! When I moved, he told me in a nasty voice that I'd have to lay still or he couldn't examine me.

I was still heavily medicated at that point, but I believe that was when I took a drunken swing at him.

He didn't seem to notice; apparently he either is used to people trying to hit him or he couldn't tell what I was doing as I had little-to-no control over my arm... but boy, if he could've been inside my head! I'd never been in a fight, but I was ready for my first one!

I didn't have to see him again, for which I was grateful... partly because I didn't like him and partly because I tried to deck him, albeit unsuccessfully.

Anywho, I'm sure this delivery will come with its own set of stories, especially since we don't know what he/she really is. I think we're going to have a 4-D ultrasound done, so hopefully I'll get some pictures to post (even though they are a little creepy). Baby 3 will be the first Jennings' kid to be recorded from announcement to birth into posterity via blog... something for which I'm sure he/she will be forever grateful... Sort of my revenge for all of those embarrassing stories Toad has told about me over the years...

Pictures

2008-03-14T10:46:00.005-04:00

Will

Will & Jimmy

Notice the fear on Ethan's face -- Daddy almost capsized the canoe.

Pearle and Laney (with the 14th lollipop of the day...)

Jim, Jay, and Keith (who doesn't fish)

Mary & Laney bonding over lollipops

Emma & Robby doing a little father-daughter bonding...

Pat, Reece, and Pearle

"Maxine" & "Bobby Cox"

Robby's Dinghy & Jim's Pond Boat

Ethan "Opie" Jennings

Ok, these are the pictures I wanted to display on Flickr, but I still haven't gotten that to work.

Why Three Kids Is A Bad Idea

2008-03-13T10:06:00.003-04:00

During 1st period, I looked down and realized that the tag of my dress was sticking out.... of the FRONT of my dress.

Apparently, in my hurry to get dressed this morning, I put my dress on backwards... and I actually like it this way. It's pretty comfy. I'm not changing it. Too much effort.

My point is this: If I can't dress myself with 2 kids, I don't think it's going to get any better with three. From this point on, please excuse me if I start wearing seasonal sweaters, get a sensible haircut, or start wearing socks to match my outfits. I never understood bad fashion before I had kids, but today has been a learning experience. Sometimes, it's apparently more what you can get on before a kid smears you with slime than what looks best?

I hope no one submits me to "What Not To Wear"...

I'm getting a little miffed...

2008-03-12T15:10:00.002-04:00

I've been playing with Flickr -- an online picture service -- all day, and I can't get the cursed thing to work!

Last week, we buried my Pop, who is one of my all-time Hall of Fame heroes. I've never lost anyone that close to me, and it was truly devastating. To make a long story short, after the funeral the entire family, including my two grandmothers, decided to go fishing at my uncle's pond.

A bit odd, I know, but this is why my family totally rocks.

It was a completely perfect afternoon, and I wanted to share pictures on my blog because some of you know my family and because I think it's a perfect tribute to my Pop... He loved few things more than having us all together.

Plus, there's one picture of my Grandma Pearle where she looks like Maxine (of Hallmark fame) AND she's talking to my Grandma Hazel, who happens to be wearing an Atlanta Braves visor -- which makes me laugh. Not to mention there's a hilarious picture of Ethan with his fishing pole over his shoulder, looking a little Opie Taylor-ish, and another of his fear-stricken face when my dad took him out in the canoe after almost capsizing them.

The pictures -- compliments of my fab cuz-o Julie -- are priceless....

But I can't get the flipping things to upload! Anyone know how to use this thing?

Random Things That Concern Me

2008-03-03T13:39:00.005-05:00

I am a terrible housekeeper. Anyone who knows me can probably attest to this. It's not that I don't have good intentions... it's just that I am easily distracted from cleaning.

For example, I was out last week for three days with sick kids. I had one good, focused day of task accomplishing. The other two were pretty well wasted. I had a plan for each of the three days but was seriously derailed on two out of three.

On Day One, I got sucked in a party-planning catalog that I came across while straightening up... and that was the end of my productivity. I realized that I hadn't planned squat for the kids' birthdays... and normally, by now, I'm pretty much through with the planning.

That sent me into panic mode.... As of today, I still haven't figured out where to have Ethan's party nor what kind of theme to use, and I can't find any cute decorations to coordinate with Laney's. This may not seem like a major catastrophe for most, but knowing that birthday party venues are few and far between here (shocking, I know), I'm a little freaked out.

This presents a problem.

Day Two was the productive day. I didn't discover any sort of major undertaking about which I had forgotten.

Day Three was equally unproductive because, in the midst of cleaning out Laney's closet, I found the kids' Easter baskets.

I love their Easter baskets. When Ethan was a wee little tot, I found a store in Knox-Vegas that made hand-painted Easter baskets -- totally cute. I designed one for him -- blue and green with frogs -- totally precious.

When Laney came, I had a friend of mine go back to the store and order one for Laney. Hers is just as precious -- pink and white with ladybugs and polka dots.

There was one problem, though: Laney's is bigger than Ethan's.

Anyone with multiple kids knows how that is going to work out in the long run... "Why is her basket bigger than mine?" "My basket is bigger so Mommy and Daddy love me more."

You get the idea.

When I called the store to order another one for Ethan, they told me they were *gasp* going out of business.

You can imagine where that leaves me for Baby #3.

So.... instead of finishing Laney's closet, I've been looking online for 2 baskets with wooden slats (not woven!) and handles... to no avail.

Anyone with information on how I can solve these crises? I'd appreciate it so I can move on to other more relevant tasks...like the dishes in my sink....

Hope Y'all Are Sitting Down...

2008-02-20T10:28:00.005-05:00

First, I do realize that it has been almost two months since I posted anything, and I am so sorry. Y'all know I'm slack, but this time, I sort of have a reason.

I am pregnant.

Might I add that this news is very unexpected to all -- especially me and K. We are thrilled -- but we really, really, really were done with the whole birthing babies process after Laney. I mean, she's a handful... and the thought of having two of her makes me want to relocate in the witness protection program.

Plus, when I named our/my blog address jennings4, I wasn't expecting to change it.

Anyway -- back to not writing...

For the first couple of weeks of the new year, I was trying to get things back together with school, so I was a little preoccupied. Then, we found out about the baby -- which has already garnered a slew of nicknames....

Swimmer and Pitcher -- Ethan says there are two boy babies... which freaks me out, since he was dead-on about Laney. Now, the doctor only saw one.. but the ultrasound picture is a blob, so I don't know. Ethan, on the other hand, explains this whole "one baby" phenomenon this way: "Pitcher was hiding." Great.

Bunco -- or Baby Bunco -- courtesy of my bunco pals... I found out I was pregnant sort of by accident while at bunco last month. Most of the crew had left, and I was just standing around, yapping with my Bridge Run girls (minus Donelle). The conversation turned to kids, and I said (famous last words), "Oh, we're done. No more." Thought pops into my head -- and out of my mouth, "Well, I mean, I'm a week late, but..." Conversation stops. Lindsay, the hostess, offered to let me take a test that she had, so I did --- TOTALLY not thinking it would ever come out positive. I mean, I've been on the pill for almost two years... no recent antibiotics or anything.... so you can imagine my surprise when the second line shows up immediately on the test. The girls were fabulous, though... I could tell they were waiting to see if I was going to freak out... but really, at that point, what good would that do? I just had to let it sink in. They wrapped the test up in a beautiful package for me to take home to K... who promptly asked if I kept the receipt. :-)

Ambrosia Surprise -- My English teacher friends here at school nicknamed Laney "Tallulah" because I love the name but K. wouldn't hear of naming his daughter that. When I told them that I was expecting again, they promptly set about creating an original name for this baby, too... after they had a good laugh about me not heeding their advice to NOT give away all of my baby stuff because I'd turn up pregnant. (I just cleared out the last of the baby stuff in December.) If it's a boy, however, they decided to stay with A.S. as initials but figured that "Ambrosia" (which came from who knows where) would be too feminine... and that's how Anderson Swimmer came about... which incorporates the birth place with Ethan's name. You know we English teachers are all about giving names with meanings...

At any rate, the baby has been nicknamed, and we are preparing for his/her/their arrival. The whole thing has been a bit distracting, and so I figure I'm sort of justified in having not written. I mean, I'm making body parts here. Give me a little bit of a break... ;-)

I'm sure y'all are going to be sitting on the edge of your seats to hear all about how this third pregnancy is going. I will say that I am glad that I have already made the move to the MV because I do believe that a third child, combined with a third time of having lost weight only to get pregnant, plus a mini-van could possibly send me right into an identity crisis.

DISCLAIMER: My normally razor-sharp grammatical skills have gone all to pot in the past few weeks... I'm hoping it's a side effect of the pregnancy. Please excuse any glaring grammatical errors. I don't feel like fixing them.

I Am So Slack

2008-01-29T13:40:00.002-05:00

Ok, it's Jan. 29... and I'm just posting the first blog of the year. I am such a slacker!!

Anyway, things are going along just swimmingly here in J-Town. We are trying to muddle through the yuckiest part of the year. I am so ready for spring to be here! I try really hard to be fashionable and reasonably well put-together, but it is a struggle at this point in the year.

I REALLY want to be wearing comfy pants, a tshirt, a hoodie -- even if K. swears that all of my coaching hoodies look like 1970 throwbacks, and tennis shoes.

Obviously, I am not wearing that, as I'm pretty sure I'd be escorted immediately from the building. I have, however, found that leggings and billowy dresses -- paired with flat shoes -- are pretty equivalent. Every now and then -- such as today -- I will throw in something a little different, just to spice things up. Today, for example, I am wearing leggings, a gray tiered dress, and black boots.

One of my co-workers has dubbed me "Jack Sparrow." I'm not terribly sure that's meant as a compliment.

Anyway, I'm not the only one having dressing difficulties in the house. Both of the kids are quite adament about their clothing, and it's really starting to annoy me.

Fashion Rule #1: I am the Mommy. I pick out the clothes and match them. No 4-year old or 20-month old has any sort of fashion sense.

Laney prefers to pick out her shoes. I let her -- as long as they match. She obviously has no concept of what matching means. Yesterday, she wanted to wear white sandals. Hello -- it's cold AND white shoes are out of season.

A huge brouhaha ensued, involving much screaming and gnashing of teeth.

She did not wear the white sandals.

Fashion Rule #2: I am the mommy. I am a bit particular about how you look. You should be, too.

I do concede on some things, like Ethan's hair. His hair is much cuter when spiked a little in front, but he H.A.T.E.S. for his hair to stand up. I have thus far refrained from holding his superheroes hostage until he lets me fix his hair the right way; he currently sports a slightly modern version of my dad's part-and-comb-over style.

I will not, however, allow him to leave the house to go anywhere in clothes that don't match or aren't complimentary. My parents, however, delight in dressing him in odd combinations that make me cringe.

It's a conspiracy, I believe.

Last week, my dad dressed Ethan -- for DINNER OUT, mind you -- in his black Halloween shirt (which reads "Little Devil" or something hokey like that in red sparkly letters), odd colored khakis, and navy blue Crocs.

I almost had a seizure when I saw him, precious little pumpkin, standing in the waiting area of a local restaurant.

My dad was smirking.

I was not amused.

Now I remember why my mom meticulously laid out our clothes, even when she wasn't going to be home to dress us.

Mental note: Must remember to pack clothes for kids when Toad is in charge.

Second mental note: Must remember to pack clothes for kids when Toad and/or Mary are in charge. Mary has been known to send Ethan to school in his pajamas.

Third mental note: Must remember to lay out clothes for Laney when K is in charge. He digs through closet to find clothes she has not worn in months. Usually too small/ out of season/ stained/ mismatched.

K says I'm a bit, a-hem, OCD about the kids' clothes and that no one cares, but I have to beg to differ. It's one thing for Laney to be running around in a diaper and tshirt at the house. It's quite another for her to be running around in public in pants that are too short or a dress with a popsicle stain on the front.

We have to have standards here.

My Own...

2007-12-28T22:27:00.000-05:00

Personal Version of Hell is this:

12 hours in the car with the kids.

If, for some unforeseen reason, I end up in the Eternal HotSpot instead of at the Pearly Gates, I have to imagine that I will be sentenced to ride in the car with an 19-month old vicious beast and her overly-grown-up, tattle-tale brother for eternity.

We took off the day after Christmas to visit the fam in Baton Rouge. Now, I am not a good car person, so I dread almost any trip longer than a couple of hours. K, it seems, dreads them more than me... also because I'm not a good car person.

The first trip that K and I took to Baton Rouge was probably the most fun... for me, at least. After eight hours of playing The Question Game, K began to resemble Jack Nicholson's character in "The Shining"... so I stopped talking. That seemed to do the trick.

Needless to say, we don't play The Question Game any more....

Which means that I sleep... a lot. Once Ethan came into the picture, I thought things might change, but he is The Ultimate Child Traveler as long as he has his movies, sufficient snacks, and an occasional potty break.

I didn't think twice about traveling once Princess Laney arrived, but apparently, I should have. She is not a traveler... like her mother. She has a short attention span... like her mother. She likes to eat a lot and stop a lot... like her mother. Unlike her mother, though, she has not learned to suppress these urges in fear of launching her normally-almost-comatose father into a fit of road rage (which, apparently, 8 hours of The Question Game will do).

So, she whines. And cries. And makes a lot of noise.

While I am trying to read. Or sleep. Or tune out life as I know it in the car.

We finally made it, after 12 long hours... the last 2 1/2 of which consisted of:

1) Ethan announcing every five minutes, "I can't wait so long!" For what, we don't know, but dang it, he can't wait so long. We found that out.

2) Laney whining in that ear-splitting screech (that I now realize also sparks that involuntary muscle spasm up the back of my neck) until I would look at her. I also discovered this trip that looking back at her for any extended period of time makes me carsick.

3) Me trying to read while listening to my i-pod (a Valentine's gift from K that I didn't really know what to do with at first but now consider a God-sent blessing for trips because I can turn it up loud enough to drown out the sounds of two kids, two movies, the radio, and a grouchy husband who wants to know why I'm not listening to the 742 demands being made by the kids. Why am I not listening? Because I can't hear them or you. My i-pod is too loud. Sorry.)

4) K trying to deal with the kids (with occasional help from me because I feel guilty that I've left him in the world of the hearing... although I do now understand why my grandparents tried to rebel against getting hearing aids for so long... sometimes, it's wonderful to just not have to listen to the noise pollution) while becoming increasingly irate with me (also easy to ignore by closing my eyes and pretending to sleep... at least until Laney let lose with an ear-piercing shriek that triggers that involuntary spasm, making me jump and thus blowing my "sleeping" cover..)

By the time we got to BR, none of us were in any shape to visit anyone... Ethan was wired like he had been sipping liquid crack. Laney was in Primo Ultimate Diva Mode. K looked like he'd just come off of a 5-day drunk, and I was pretty much mute and unable to conduct any kind of intelligible conversation... always a great first impression with the in-laws...

In the days since, the kids have completely recovered, being resilient and young. K and I are on our way, although we were almost catapulted back to Square 1 after a trip to New Orleans today (the 50 minute trip took over 2 hours... anyone have a plastic spoon??? I'd rather gouge out my eyeballs than do that again...).

I do hold hope that the trip back will be pleasant and uneventful... but that doesn't seem to be the norm for us. (Out of the last three trips, we've managed to rack up two catastrophes, including a really expensive automotive breakdown and a nasty cracked windshield... both occurring in almost the same spot on two different trips... I would like to caution you against traveling anywhere close to Meridian, Mississippi, as I'm pretty sure that The Devil has taken over that town as his earthly headquarters...)

Who knew parenting could be this much fun?!?!?!

I think...

2007-12-14T08:33:00.000-05:00

I have writer's block.
I cannot think of anything to write about. I mean, most of the time, the subject pops up, I start writing, and VOILA! a lovely blog appears on my screen.
Not so much right now.
I think it's because I'm distracted by the holidays. It is December 17 as I write this, and we still don't have all of our decorations up.... including those essential ones that go on the tree...
Yes, I know. We have failed mankind in the most serious of ways because we didn't have our tree up and decorated the day after Thanksgiving.
My bad.
On top of it all, I had to go find more decorations (because I can't find all of mine), when apparently everything lovely and attractive was snatched up by those out shopping the day after Thanksgiving...by all of those people who have been able to enjoy their fully decorated trees for several weeks now.
All of this -- my lost decorations, my sluggish start to the holidays -- requires me to go out into the "hustle and bustle" -- which is really more like a preschool free-for-all. Every ridiculous and annoying person on the planet is out, being excessively ridiculous and annoying, while I am just trying to get from Point A to Point B without cursing or killing someone.
Really? That 4th of July lawn decoration was on a 120% off Clearance rack but is ringing up .50 instead of .49, like it should? I will give you the bleepin' penny and wrap it for you to give to your great aunt Hilda if you will just get out of my way and stop holding up the line!
I think the hustle and bustle is zapping my creativity, so... I have -- after this year -- relinquished all Christmas duties to Keith.
I feel it only fair to publish this on a public domain so that you are all aware that you may never receive another picture of the kids, Christmas card, or normal Christmas gift... and our house may be decorated in a Charlie Brown Christmas Tree kind of fashion...
Now this sounds good in theory, but there are a few minor problems here...
1) I don't think that he thinks I'm serious.
2) I am a little bit of a control freak, and I may worry so much about how things are not getting done the way I would do them that it may ruin the whole rest-and-relaxation angle.
3) I don't want the kids' recollections of their early Christmases to be, "We never had decorations when we were little."
4) I wonder what he would send to the kids' Christmas parties for gifts... golf balls? Chips and salsa? Whatever spare change we have laying around the house? And would he wrap it up in brown paper lunch sacks? Would the kids be the laughing stock of preschool and kindergarten or would they think that Ethan and Laney's dad is the coolest?
5) Would he use big bulb lights, and if he did, could I still enjoy Christmas, or would I feel compelled to recite lines from "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation" throughout the holidays? ("Say the blessing!")
Ok, well that stresses me out just thinking about it. We'll re-evaluate after this season... Maybe I'll let him start off with something small like Valentine's Day or picking out Easter outfits...

Things I Don't Understand (The Hilarity of It All)

2007-11-07T15:03:00.000-05:00

So, I had to run a quick errand during my plan the other day. I relish any opportunity to get out of my concrete cubicle, so I skipped out to the MV, breathing in fresh air, sunshine, and the elixir of life-during-the-day-when-you-are-normally-couped-up-with-germy-kids. It was wonderful.

On the way back from my errand, I pull up behind what appears to be a normal car. I look away... something else caught my eye (shocking, I know, that my attention span is so minimal). I look back, and I think, "Something is odd about that car...." It seems really low to the ground.

About that time, I catch the eye of the odd-looking person in the driver's seat and he gives me the man-nod.

And then the car moves.

I don't mean moves forward. I mean moves up at an odd angle.

For a moment, I know I must've looked much like the RCA dog, head cocked at an unnatural angle.

I know I saw the car move, but it's not moving now..... and still, something isn't right.

Wait -- the front is much higher than the back. It wasn't like that before.... was it? Is my old age causing me to lose my memory?

At this point, I'm staring with my hand over my mouth, thankful I'm wearing sunglasses so it isn't exceptionally obvious that I'm staring while I sit in my non-mobile MV.

And the car moves again. This time, I see it, plain as day, and I realize that I am encountering hydrolics.

My first-ever, real-life experience with hydrolics that don't cause the car to bounce.

And then the show begins.

Just before the light changes, the car begins moving up and then down... rear bumper up... front bumper up... rear bumper down... front bumper down.

It is the craziest thing I have ever seen. The driver apparently sees my mouth gaping open and gives me the manly nod, then drives off as his car finally levels almost to the ground and then raises up to a semi-safe level so the belly of his car won't scrape up any roadkill...

Amazing.

I wonder if my MV can be tricked out like that....

I Take It Back.

2007-10-21T14:39:00.000-04:00

My neighbors have issues, but I think their issues are much more complicated than not liking our harmless dogs. I take back the not-so-nice tone in which I wrote and ask that you say a prayer for them. Also, if anyone knows how to create an invisible force field around our house, I'm looking for estimates....

I am also...

2007-10-17T10:49:00.000-04:00

A time waster.

I've had a morning of no classes.... and what have I done?

Email. All morning.

I haven't graded one paper. I haven't been the least bit productive.

Do I feel bad?

No.

What is wrong with me?

My parents raised me to be responsible and hard-working, and here I sit, loafing. So sad... so sad...

Does anyone else suffer from this disorder? I know I have a grading deadline next week, but still, here I sit. This is also a problem when it comes to housework... but that's an entirely different story.

Is there a treatment? A solution? Can I hire someone to grade for me?!?!

Any volunteers???

Sigh. I'm going.

Blog Overload

2007-10-16T13:29:00.000-04:00

I almost had a serious crisis.

I went to log on to my blog, and the school had blocked the website.

Panic, wheezing included, ensued.

Obviously, they've rethought their stance on blocking my blog because here I am, in all of my wonderous glory, blogging away while my students take a writing test.

I should probably be grading other stuff, but what the heck! I like to live dangerously.

Anyway, once the panic lessened enough for me to breathe, it reminded me of the cell phone blowup of earlier in the year.

I'll make it short, since I can't remember if I blogged about this and am too lazy to look...

My first phone, a lovely Chocolate number of which I was very fond, was apparently highly sensitive to water/condensation... and apparently early morning telephone calls before the first volleyball tournament of the year out in the middle of a grass field next to the school (being the only place I could get reception) don't really agree with highly sensitive technological equipment.

MY solution: make a better phone or get your signal fixed.

VERIZON'S solution: laugh at the peon.

To make a long story short, the phone died, taking with it my contact list. I ordered a new phone, which I was told I qualified to recieve for free.... only I didn't recieve it (or any contact as to why not). When I finally was able to reach someone who could tell me what the problem was, it seemed my phone would not be free. I paid for the phone and then waited another week and a half to receive the phone, during which time I experienced an automotive crisis and had to depend on total strangers to ensure the well-being of my two kids and myself.

After all of that... I got the new phone -- a much lovelier orange thing -- for free.

And was named CEO of Verizon after theirs mysteriously lost his head to a very foul-tempered woman from some small town in the middle of nowhere.

Ok, I'm not CEO, but I did get the phone and some other bonuses for free.

The whole point is that I was completely lost without my cell, and I was about freak out about being out of touch with the outside world via the internet.

Alas, the problem is solved, and my heart beat has returned to normal. I've checked all of my normal blog sites, and they are all working. You, too, can relax and know that, for today at least, the blog is still up and running.

This gives you great peace, I know.