Outstanding Special Ed Teacher.....MY DAUGHTER!

Today was a very special day in the life of my daughter Kat.  On May 15th she will be graduating with her Ed.S(Education Specialist degree).  This degree is the last step before obtaining your doctorate(Most people stop here because there is no dissertation that goes with it.).  Well....Friday at AUM they had an awards ceremony and Kat was honored as the Outstanding Special Ed. student.  What an honor....I mean...I already knew she was great....but it was so great to know other people know it too...LOL!  After the ceremony we headed back to her school to begin final preparations for the Children's Center fundraiser.  They were having a spaghetti dinner/talent/follies program and I had agreed to help out....and in layman terms, for me that means perform.  Somehow during the course of the afternoon we wrote a script for transitioning the acts, did the program, did a SAM's Club run, put up some sparkling stars, practice, stirred 9 huge crockpots of spaghetti sauce, cooked a gazillion packs of noodles, decided at the prompting of her fellow staff members that Kat and I would sing Sentimental Journey together....acappella.  Kat's sweet husband stirred the sauce on 30 minute intervals....and he took his job seriously.  He also boiled a ton of noodles with one small stock pot and a sauce pan....he is a genious.  Kat was running on nervous energy.....and the big feat here...is that Kat has never sung on stage like that....so she was nervous.  I told her during practice...just to look in my eyes....and that is just what she did...and it was GREAT!  The people began arriving, food was served, the entertainment began and it was so much fun....some of the staff did Cupid Shuffle, there was a lip syncing Sonny and Cher, operatic music, interpretive dance, the son of one teacher did a Michael Jackson dance to "Billy Jean" that was phenomenal, Mrs. Agnes sang one of my favorites....Lean on Me, and scattered throughout the night...I sang....and God Bless the USA was the finale.  For the low low price of $10.00 it was a great night.  Hats off to the staff and faculty of the Children's Center....YOU GUYS ROCKED!

Those Texas Roadhouse Rolls

I love Texas Roadhouse.

I especially love their rolls.

So when we decided to dine there this week, I was excited. My mouth watered over the thought of the hot buttery rolls.

Imagine my surprise when we weren’t given any rolls after we were shown our booth.

“Where are the rolls? Are they coming? We need the rolls.” I tried not to panic as our hostess walked away. Where was she going? Was she bringing back rolls?

“Do you think the rolls are coming?” I hissed to Tom, who was calmly perusing the menu. How could he be so calm? Wasn’t he concerned about the rolls?

“Amber, the place just opened. The rolls aren’t ready yet,” Tom said patiently. He’s used to my freak outs. But he was probably right. The restaurant had just opened. We always get there at 4, right as the doors are unlocked because crowds freak Tom out. He says it’s a cop thing. He doesn’t like people behind him because he assumes they’re going to pull out a weapon. Sometimes for fun I’ll trail after him and he’ll abruptly stop and go, “Don’t do that. You know I don’t like that.”

Our waitress strolled over with a wide grin. “Hi, I’m Stacy and I’ll be your waitress today!” She chirped. Stacy had obviously been sampling the sweet tea.

“Hi Stacy, can we have some rolls?” I matched her tone and tried not to grasp the collar of her shirt while bellowing, “It was just AWFUL, Stacy. The hostess showed us to our booth and walked away WITHOUT GIVING US ANY ROLLS!”

“Of course you can get some rolls,” Stacy said. “What can I get you to drink?”

DRINK? Why wasn’t she getting the rolls first? Didn’t she see how much we needed the rolls?

I asked for a sweet tea and hoped she would return quickly with our rolls.

But then a big group settled down in Stacy’s section so she turned to greet them. Stacy, NO. Our ROLLS.

“Would you sit down?” Tom said.

Oh. I hadn’t realized I was halfway to a standing position. I plopped my butt down.

“I just....our rolls. Wait, here comes the hostess with a basket of rolls. Here they come! Here they—” But then the hostess plopped the rolls on the booth behind us for those people.

Excuse me?

What about US?

Stacy, hostess, SOMEONE!

“Calm down,” Tom said. “We’ll get some rolls.”

Stacy dropped our drinks off five minutes later. No rolls.

“What can I get for you?”

“Rolls,” I said.

Tom groaned into his palms.

Stacy’s eyes snapped open with recognition. “The rolls. I forgot. I’m so sorry.”

She took our orders and then went off to retrieve some rolls.

“Thank God. My body needs the carbs,” I said, sipping my sweet tea.

Tom made a face. “When was the last time you had some?”

“Well. Lunch. But still.”

I can’t believe there are people who don’t eat carbs. And those health nuts on the reality shows say to save calories, one should FORGO the rolls at the beginning of the meal.

FORGO the rolls?

Are they high?

The rolls are the best part.

Have these people TASTED the rolls at Texas Roadhouse? They arrive warm with cinnamon butter. I know. Cinnamon butter sounds weird. I thought so too. But then I tried it and I was in love. Now I can’t get enough cinnamon butter. I want to ask Texas Roadhouse if I can bring some home with me but Tom says that I better not ask that, and could I please stop embarrassing him?

Good news, though. Stacy came back with the rolls. Yes!

We all dove in.

Seriously. Four hands went towards the basket at once. Thankfully Texas Roadhouse gives you four rolls.

“We need more rolls,” I said, my mouth stuffed with, well, roll. I’m so glad that I’m married. I’d be an awful dater. My manners are pretty appalling.

“We’ll get some,” Tom said, shoving his roll into his mouth. His manners aren’t the greatest either. We’re a match made in filthy manners heaven.

Stacy came by a few minutes later to see if we needed anything else.

“Rolls, please,” I said.

“Wow, those went quick!” she giggled. Stacy looked as though she were the type that avoided carbs. She was rail thin. I wouldn’t mind losing a couple pounds but I think I’d be a very unhappy person indeed if I gave up my carbs.

When Stacy returned she didn’t have rolls. She just had our food. Which is a good thing, don’t get me wrong, but I was still craving rolls. There was no way I’d be able to enjoy my steak without getting a few more rolls in my system. No way in heck.

“Anything else I can get you?” Stacy wondered.

“Rolls, please.” She probably thought that was the only thing I knew how to say.

“Rolls.” Stacy snapped her fingers. “Right. You sure you want rolls since you have your dinner now?”

Um. Stacy? YES.

“Yes, please,” I said, moving Natalie’s hand away from my rice. That’s MY seasoned rice. But…crap, I’m teaching her how to share so I gave her some.

“I don’t YIKE this hot dog,” Natalie said, pushing her meal away. “I want dis rice.” And she tried to take all of my rice.

“Um, well you’re going to eat your hot dog because that’s what you said you wanted,” I said firmly, sticking her food back in front of her.

“No, hot dog is yucky. I want da rice and da potato,” she said, pointing to my baked potato.

I don’t think so.

“More rolls!” Stacy said, handing them over.

Four hands went into the basket.

Mmmm.

“Stop hogging the butter!” I said to Tom.

“I’m not,” he argued, his cheeks puffed out from the bread.

“You are. Share!” I reached over to grab it. He lifted his arm up so I couldn’t reach.

“Stop being mean. Share!”

He eventually handed it over. I was about to rub some on my bread but Natalie tried to take my potato again so I got distracted. I set the butter down in the basket and grabbed my potato back. Look, I’m all for sharing but Natalie had a perfectly good meal in front of her. As I was busy trying to get her to eat the hot dog, Stacy came by and PICKED UP THE BASKET WHICH CONTAINED MY CINNAMON BUTTER.

“Stacy!” I called out, but she didn’t hear me.

Crap.

“My cinnamon butter!”

“Jesus, just eat your steak,” Tom said.

But it just felt incomplete to not have the cinnamon butter. So when Stacy came back, I asked for more rolls.

Her eyes bugged out of her head. “More rolls?”

“We’re a carb loving family,” I explained. And plus, you took my cinnamon butter from me.

Stacy did bring us more rolls. So I got my cinnamon butter, two extra rolls, and like five extra pounds.

But still. Yum.

(And now I’m craving the rolls again.)

Goodbye to Silver Drummond!

Today was a very sad day for me: It was my intern's last day. She did  an amazing job with my Spanish classes.....even the ones who did not want to learn. When I think back to the first day she came (which seems like only yesterday to me)...until today, I realize how I learned from her.  You know as an educator you never stop learning...and learn I did.  She was so creative and such a beautiful spirit.  I think professionally she will be a great success.  Who ever gets her as a teacher next year will definitely benefit from a wonderful person. Silver....(is that not the coolest name?.... was a delight to get to know, and it feels really good to know that I was a part of her process on the road to becoming a teacher.  I thank Dr. Sue Barry at Auburn for placing that kind of confidence and trust in me.  Silver had an interesting start. My first block class was composed of a large number of baseball playing boys...who were friends and a handful.  She never broke stride...she did what she came here to do...she taught.  My other two classes were a piece of cake after first block....and if she handled them....she can handle anything.  I actually went back to work on April 19th and believe you me...I have been exhausted. I took several pictures of her and the students and am making her a collage which I will mail to her later....in Tampa....so I would not cry.  Silver graduates on May 14th and between now and then she will be in Tampa with her parents interviewing for a job, and finishing up those final graduating details that have to be taken care of.....you know, like packing.  I must say again that any  school system would be crazy not to hire her...I am telling you.   I wish we could have hired her.  I think she would be fun to have around all the time....but alas...it is proration here....and non-tenures are going to be pinked before the last working day of school.....so she is better off trying somewhere else.  Besides, her family is in Tampa...and her boyfriend, Nick is also going to be back home in Tampa....I guess I don't blame her...but I am sure gonna to miss her.  Good luck Silver and may God bless you as you embark on your new career and calling.  You rocked!

Julie Andrews I Am Not

Do you see this thing?



It’s a generator.

And it’s LOUD.

It makes this annoying rumbling sound. It’s especially fun to listen to at night.

We got a note slipped in our door last week talking about the generator. Along with the irritating noise, we have to deal with power outages every day at 530 this week because the base is conducting an Energy Security Test.

I forgot about it the first time. I was in the middle of an e-mail—not a serious e-mail at least—and everything just went dead in the house.

Some choice words escaped my lips.

Then I remembered about the power outages.

Thankfully they are quick power outages but still. Annoying.

And then there’s the rumbling sound from the generator. As I was getting the kids to bed Tommy was all, “It’s a monster growling.”

“A MONSTA!” Natalie’s eyes grew big.

Oh, great. I just wanted the kids to go to bed so I could stretch out and watch Parenthood. I did not want to have to go through a freak out.

“No monster,” I promised and shot Tommy a Look.

“It could be,” Tommy said matter-of-factly.

I wanted to stick some duct tape over his mouth.

“It’s not a monster. It’s a generator,” I explained.

“MONSTA!! I don’t YIKE monstas!” Natalie told me seriously.

“There is no monster!” I insisted. But Natalie was already convinced. She ran into Tommy’s closet and refused to come out.

Great.

“Tommy,” I groaned.

“What? It sounds like a monster.” He shrugged. Then he leaned forward. “What if it is?” Now he was starting to look freaked out.

Crap. I didn’t have TIME for this. I just wanted to relax. I wanted to make myself a steaming cup of hot chocolate (with whipped cream) and curl up on the couch. I didn’t want to deal with monsters. Why couldn’t they have had a monster freak out on Monday when nothing is on?

“Look. Let’s....um....let’s all sit on the bed,” I said, tapping Tommy’s mattress.

Natalie peeked out from the closet.

“I’m going to cheer you guys up,” I said firmly. I mean, Julie Andrews always makes it look easy. On The Sound of Music she just sang a song about favorite things and wa-lah, happy children!

“Raindrops on roses, and whiskers on kittens,” I began, off-key. I can’t sing but oh well.

Tommy looked startled. “What are you doing?”

“Singing. Cheering you up. Ahem. Where was I? Raindrops on roses, and whiskers on kittens. Bright coppered kettles and warm woolen mittens.”

“What is this?” Tommy still didn’t get it.

“Favorite things,” I said, a little impatiently. None of the VonTrapp children interrupted Julie Andrews when she was singing. Where was my respect?

“None of those things are my favorite things,” Tommy said primly.

“Me either,” Natalie chimed in, climbing up on the bed.

Rude, ungrateful children. But still, Natalie was out of the closet. That was something, right?

“Brown paper packages tied up with strings. These are a few of my favorite things,” I continued.

“That’s not my favorite thing either. ” Tommy looked downright annoyed.

“Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels. Doorbells and sleighbells and schnitzel with noodles…”

“What’s a strudel?” Tommy cut in.

“PONY!” Natalie chanted, clapping her hands. “I want a pony.”

For the love of—why wouldn’t they just SIT BACK and listen to the DAMN song?

“When the dog BITES, when the bee STINGS, when I’m feeling sad. I simply remember my favorite things and then I don’t feeelllll....sooooo....bad!” I wrapped up the song early and stretched my arms out. I clocked Natalie in the head when I did it. Oops.

“You hurted me, Mommy,” Natalie said, scowling.

“So,” I said, a fake smile on my face. “How do you guys feel? Better? Did you like my song?”

Tommy picked his nail. “I didn’t get it.”

“There’s nothing TO get. It’s a happy song to make you feel better.” I mean, duh.

“It didn’t,” Tommy said bluntly.

Hmph. Kids in the 60s seemed much calmer. They sat and listened to music and APPRECIATED it. And they seemed to magically know the words to the song and would even join in. My kids just stared at me as though a lacy bra had morphed from the top of my head.

Oh well.

All the monster talk ceased so I guess my song was a success.

Although Natalie kept asking for a pony and when I handed over her fake ponies she threw them down and went, “Not DIS one. I wanna REAL pony.”

She went to sleep rather ticked off.

But not talking about monsters. So yay.

Natalie's Revenge

So.

Natalie did this. You might not be able to see it well, but it's basically a large pencil drawing. On my wall.



She was quite proud of herself, I must say.

When I cleaned off her masterpiece with the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser she screeched and called me mean.

I was looking forward to eating a donut as a delicious snack. But guess what happened while I was cleaning Natalie’s artwork?

Yes.

Natalie grabbed MY donut and destroyed it. She scraped off a lot of the best part: the sprinkles.



I’m convinced she did it on purpose because she thought I didn’t appreciate her picture. And I would have, had she done it on PAPER.

PS. Is it wrong that I ate the donut anyhow?

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. I think I’m going to do this every Tuesday now. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your diary. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either.

Hey, It's Okay....


To not know what’s going on with Lost even when there are only four episodes left.


To have cheered a little bit when Kate was FINALLY voted off Dancing with the Stars.


To know you will NEVER use one of those neti-pot things.


To have mocked the latest trailer for Eclipse a little bit. Fine. A lot. But only because Edward always looks incredibly sick to me so I just want to hand him some Nyquil.


To not let the kids sleep in your bed because you have enough trouble sharing it with your husband.


To curse word verification on blogs, especially when you have to type the letters in several times because you can’t quite tell what that squiggly one is.


TO LOVE PIE <--- in caps because pie rocks.


To want to say, “Bitch, please,” when another mother rambles on about how perfect her kid is.


To be a little bitter that the KARDASHIAN’S are getting a book published.


To think organic sheets are just plain ridiculous. My non-organic sheets are just fine, thanks.


To debate wearing a modest swimsuit seeing as you can’t stop eating junk food and don’t want to scare people off with your thunder thighs.

Now How Random is That?

It is time for the weekly dose of Random Dozen.  I have to be honest and say I really look forward to Linda, over at 2nd Cup of Coffee's post every Tuesday.  Then I love to sit back and see what my other bloggie buddies are going to post.  The questions are always thought provoking in a funny kind of way.  Todays are kind of deep...but you can make of them what you wish.

1. Have you ever been so lost that you were really afraid?  Nope!  I don't get lost.  I go exploring and have since I was a child.  I must admit I have ended up in some rather quirky places though...while (clears throat) exploring.  :-)

2. Have you ever been to an island?  Yes - all the islands of Lake Martin, two of the Hawaiian islands, the Bahamas, Jamaica, Grand Cayman, the Keys...and a few unnamed.

3. Are you more of a thinker or feeler?  I am a feeler.  My emotional side rules my life.  When my dad was so sick and I was going to have to tell him it was ok to let go....my HEAD knew what to do...but my HEART was not having any of it.
4. Do you tend to see issues or situations in life as black and white or shades of gray?  Gray is one of my favorite shades....although...sepia is becoming one of my new favs.  I can see issues in black and white if it is cut and dry...but I also realize that everything in life is not always black and white...sometimes the edges run and things become gray.
5. If you were stuck on an island, what book would you hope to have with you (Let's pretend the Bible is already there, so you can't say that.) It would have to be a Beth Moore.  With that and the Bible I would be set.
6. What are you most afraid of?  Falling...and not like down....falling from a great height.  I tried to overcome it one year by doing a hang gliding (suicidal) drop.  It did not work.  I told God on the way down if he would allow me to live to touch the ground...I would never try this again. I have lived up to my promise.
7. Would you rather lose all of your old memories or never be able to make new ones? Wow....this is where my mom is right now.  This is Altzheimers Disease....or you are watching 50 First Dates with Drew Barrymore and Adam Sandler.  I would love to always keep my old memories....for therein lies who I am....but the thought of not making new ones is sad....therein lies who I will become.  I DON'T WANT TO LOSE ANY OF THEM!
8. Pretend I'm looking at a scrapbook page about you. There are three spaces for you to drop in individual pictures. What are those pictures of, and why did you select them?  One of me as a child (what will I be?  This would show a beginning place), High School graduation (Oh happy day - the day I set out in the world), and then one of me now(see what I have become)
9. If you were re-doing your wedding, what would you do differently? (If you're single, tell me one thing you would do if you were planning a wedding OR huge party.)  Most people would think I would say....not have a first weddding....but I won't...cause without my first one....I would not have my absolutely awesome daughter.  I am fortunate in a way though.  I had a chance to do re-do.  Wedding one...husband one...sweet day in a small country United Methodist church...it snowed...we were broke....went to Franklin,GA for our honeymoon and stayed at the Chattahootchee Motel...the only thing I would re-do...is that blasted green sherbet punch.  I hate that frothy stuff.  Wedding two - huband two...was perfect.  We married at the end of our Praise and Worship Service....we invited a few special people...but for the most part...the congregation was just unsuspecting attenders of the service.  When the time came for people to join the church....we met in the front and got married.  I had sung on stage...and Frank had run the sound the whole service from upstairs.  My friends put together a wonderful reception....and it was just perfect.  I would not change a thing!
10. Tell me one thing you know/believe about forgiveness.  I believe that I am a forgiven Child of God....and because I am....I need to practice forgiveness with others.  I struggle with forgiveness...I find it hard to forgive myself sometimes...even after God has forgiven me.
11. You're waiting in a doctor's office. What is your favorite way to pass that time?  I keep a pad in my purse and I write....I write about the people waiting....I write about whatever goes through my mind, I also read and sometimes...talk to people around me....but only if they invite me into their lives.
12. If there were a clone of you in a parallel universe what is one way you hope she/he would be the same as you and one way you hope she/he would be better? I would hope she is a good friend...always there for hers....better...I would hope her self-esteem is higher.
Happy Tuesday to all!  I am off to be interviewed by the SACS (Southern Accredidation of Colleges and Schools) team.  I am a nervous wreck...glad I had Random Dozen today.

Takin' Life to the Limits

It was July 12th, a glorious day, and I was packing for my newest adventure. Today I was going white water rafting on the Deschutes River(Rivière des Chutes, or "River of the Falls) in Oregon. It was just going to be a little overnighter, yet the apprehension I felt was almost nauseating. The songs of the musical, The Man of La Mancha, would not leave my head as I continued to fill my L.L. Bean backpack with a change of clothes, some sweats, and other essentials I felt I would need. My camera and my journal topped the pack and I walked out of the apartment. I was ready for anything...or was I?  The trip was about four hours and when we arrived at the river bank, I was amused at myself for the earlier queasiness. This river looked harmless enough. I had rafted the Ocoee in North Carolina as a teenager , and it was definitely worse than this. We readied ourselves for the first leg of the adventure. We would load up and raft about ten miles, pull out, and camp for the night. The first leg offered nothing to write home about. The group in the raft had a great deal of fun bonding and challenging other rafts we met as we drifted lazily down the river. Evening came quickly and soon it was time to set up a campsite before the best ones were taken. The place we chose had a heady smell of sage. I stood and felt the remnants of the sun burn it’s image on my chapped face and inhaled the fragrance. We set up our tents and began supper preparation. there would be no campfire tonight...just a Coleman stove and lantern. This was a high risk fire area. the supper detail fixed burritos, avocado dip, and tostidos for our meal. We all were ravenous and ate as if this were to be our last supper. Little did we know that it could possibly be. After supper the clean up detail went to the river’s edge and washed the dishes and packed them away for the next day. We then gathered around the stove, pulled out our guitars, and began to sing. We sang everything from the Eagles to old girl scout songs and finally our guide told us that if we were going to get an early start we needed to call it a night. I was glad. The calluses on my fingers from playing were beginning to throb. We all went to our assigned tents. I lay down and felt the old feelings of claustrophobia close in as we lay there safe within the confines of the tent. I had to get out. It was a beautiful night. I would sleep under the stars. So I quickly and quietly withdrew into the aromatic outdoors. I lay there under the stars, smelled the sage, and sang softly to myself. Diane and Cecilia joined me shortly. The star show was so awesome, and I felt the weight of tiredness tugging at my eyes. I fell into a sound sleep. but sleep would not last long. We were pelted into awakeness by the feel of razor sharp rain drops. A storm had moved into the canyon. We all headed for the van. The three of us slept in the van for the remainder of the night and when the morning light finally reared her head I felt like hell! The pinks and grays of dawn came peeping, July 13th was going to be another beautiful day. You could see no traces of the night storm. Look our Deschutes here I come!!! After a quiet breakfast of hot tea and granola, we closed out camp and headed for the rafts. Our bright yellow raft sat on the shoreline ready and waiting on us. It seemed to be laughing at us, begging us to come out and play again. We named her the Yellow Submarine. Looking back now I can see where that would be a poor choice of words. The crew was an ageless one. all of us had long since seen thirty something. Steve, Diane, Ruth, Cecilia, Clark (the guide), Tia Maria, and I made up this motley crew. The start was fun. We were all natural competitors so we left ahead of the rest. We straddled the yellow raft and away we went. Our first little class two rapid was met with Tia Maria being tossed into the drink. the guide scooped her up, and she was back in the boat safe and sound before any of us knew she had gone. The Box-Car rapids were a class three and the challenge was loads of fun. We all managed to stay dry here. the morning part of the trip had been delightful. We stopped for a lunch of fruit and more granola and continued on. On to the quest ...our goal. Our motto had become, All for one and one for all. Let’s Take it over the edge. Let’s Take it to the limit. The wind was up, and we lost control of our tiny craft. We were catapulted from the raft, and the experience into the bowels of hell began. The last thing I remember was seeing Steve fly through the air and then everything went black for me. I struggled to the surface only to find myself trapped under the raft as it was being sucked down into a maelstrom. Something was holding me down! I emerged in an air pocket of the raft to find a rope around my throat choking the life out of me. I fought with it and finally broke free right before I was sucked down into the maelstrom again. My life as I knew it was passing before my eyes and I felt myself crying...but I didn’t know if I was really crying or just imagining it. I was somewhere between here and unconsciousness. I was filled with sadness at never having the chance to see Kat, my daughter, grown. I was terrified and gagging when suddenly I felt a rock under my feet. I pushed hard against it, and propelled myself against the raft, broke the suction of the maelstrom, and left my would-be grave. I was literally thrown through the air. The people on he bank said if it hadn’t been so frightening it would have been amusing. I looked like a bronco buster that had just been thrown off of a wild horse. I landed in he middle of the raging Deschutes on a slick rock. I dug my fingers in and held on for dear life. I tasted blood but didn’t know where it was coming from. My head hurt, and my left eye was blurred. A kayaker floated out to me and told em to let go and float to him. I thought to myself, IS HE CRAZY?: I wasn’t letting go of Nothing! did he not know where I had just come from? He realized that I was in shock...so he kept talking gently to me until I let go and he caught me. Putting the wet remnant of a person in he kayak he took me to shore where the rest of the frightened group waited. I was dizzy and nauseated. I couldn’t stand and as soon as I was helped from the kayak...passed out. Patty came over, revived me, and checked me out. I was pretty banged up, had a concussion, and was in shock. I had to be gotten out and fast. the guides radioed for a rescue unit and waited with me. Everyone wrapped their arms around me to ward off the shock. I remember nothing except that I was cold. The helicopter arrived and I was air lifted to the Dalles and treated for a concussion, cuts, bruises, and shock. the rest of the team finished the course and picked me up at the emergency room. We headed back to Walla Walla. The group had been instructed not to let me see a mirror...just yet. It was a good thing. When I finally did see a mirror I would terrify myself and little children! Quasi Moto and the Gargoyles had nothing on me. I bathed in a warm tub...wearily put on my jammies...and settled down for sleep. The sedative I had been given earlier kicked in and I floated to sleep. Minutes after I closed my eyes the water came back and I was drowning again. I awoke with a loud scream. the rest of the night everytime I closed my eyes the scream would be repeated. My suitemates took turns sitting with me all night. I would have these nightmares for years to come. The next day I could hardly move. I was black and blue all over. I had been fortunate. I lost a tooth, a pair of Ray-Bans, and a good deal of blood, but was still alive. It took about three weeks for me to return to my active self. It took a long time to get over the nightmare and my fear of rapids...if I ever do. Someday I want to return to the Deschutes and this time...this time I will be the victor.

Plant Killer

“Look!” Tommy shouted as he burst through the front door Friday afternoon. In his hand he carried a plant. “Look what we got from school!”



“It’s a very....nice plant,” I said. What else could I say other than, “Please don’t drip dirt on my clean floors.” I am not a plant person. I’ve tried, I really have, but plants hate me. They tend to shrink away when they see me approaching.

“You can’t touch it because you killed my other plant,” Tommy told me, hugging his plant to his chest.

Okay....yes, that’s true. Tommy had a plant. When my Mom, his Nonna was here they bought a plant that apparently is hard to kill.

“You’ll be fine with this one,” my Mom assured me. My Mom, it should be pointed out, is fabulous with plants. She has a bunch of them in her yard and actually enjoys “pruning” them. What kind of word is that anyhow? Pruning? Plants LOVE my Mom.

I sort of forgot to water Tommy’s plant. And so did Tommy, by the way. If it was HIS plant, he should have kept on top of it. So there. It started to wilt and Tommy was all, “My plant!” and watered it. But it was too late. The thing had croaked.

“Look what you did!” Tommy whined as I tossed it out.

“Hey, you could have watered it too,” I reminded him.

“I DID and it was already dead,” he said accusingly. “You are NOT good with plants, Mommy.”

So yeah, he definitely didn’t want me to touch his latest one.

But then he just set it down on the kitchen counter. The one that I had just cleaned.

“Er,” I said, lifting it up.

“Don’t touch, you’ll kill it!” Tommy stomped over.

“You can’t just set it here. I’m no expert but I do know you can’t just leave a plant in a bag,” I explained.

“Where should I put it then?”

Well, crap. We were having a storm outside complete with snow. The plant would not be safe out there.

Then I remembered the pot that I had found at Target for 75% off. When I had brought it home Tom had frowned and said, “What do you need that for? You kill plants.”

This family is so totally mean to me.

You kill one plant, you’re branded as a plant killer for life.

Oh fine, it’s been more like over ten plants that I’ve killed. But still. I TRY to keep them alive. I don’t viciously let them die. I just...well, they don’t have mouths. If they screamed, “I’m STARVING!” like my kids, I’d remember.

“We need to put your plant in a pot,” I said to Tommy.

Tommy still looked wary. “But you’ll kill it.”

Oh for—

“I won’t! At least I’ll try not to. Just....let’s put it in the pot, okay?”

Tommy reluctantly handed it over. “If you kill this plant, I’ll never trust you with another plant ever again.”

Woah. Thems fighting words, son.



Here is Tommy’s plant. It still seems to be thriving.

Heaven help me if I kill the thing.

The Power of a Pencil

My sweet Frank outdid himself today with his sermon.  I tell him often that whatever sermon he just preached I believe was his best...but today he broke all records.  Todays was truly the best ever....it was simple and to the point.  The message was on the Power of the Pencil.  I love to hear him preach.  I don't think I will ever tire of it.  I guess it is a good thing I am a preacher's wife huh? The Pencil Maker took the pencil aside, just before putting him into the box. There are 5 things you need to know, he told the pencil, before I send you out into the world. Always remember them and never forget, and you will become the best pencil you can be.
1 ... You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in someone’s hand.
Just like a pencil, in the hand of the right person, can do some amazing things, you can do amazing things if you allow yourself to be held in God’s hand.  A pencil can make beautiful drawings in the hand of an artist.  A pencil can craft amazing stories in the hand of a writer.
A pencil can solve the most complex algebraic equations in the hand of a mathematician.  A pencil can sketch the most perfect blueprint in the hand of an architect.  A pencil can write the most touching note in the hands of a loved one. But in the wrong hands, a pencil can become useless or worse, used for the wrong things.
In the hand of a two-year old, a pencil becomes a dangerous toy. The child stares at the pencil adoringly before placing it in his mouth where it can do a lot of harm. In the hand of an enraged fiancé, a pencil becomes a dangerous weapon.  Have you ever been stabbed by one...let me tell you...it hurts!....and if lead breaks off in the wound...you can get lead poisoning...which is deadly.
2 ... You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, but you’ll need it to become a better pencil.
Just like a pencil has to be sharpened to become better, you can be sharpened by going through various problems and trials, but it will indeed make you a stronger person.
3 ... You will be able to correct mistakes you will make.
Just like a pencil has an eraser to be able to correct mistakes, you, through the grace of God, can correct mistakes and grow through them.
4 ... The most important part of you will always be what’s inside.
Just like a pencil’s most important part is the lead that’s inside, it’s what’s on the inside of you that’s important. The part of you that makes you who you are is what’s on the inside. It’s not about what’s on the outside. It’s not about the clothes you wear, or how you style your hair. It’s not about your weight or your height. It’s not about your face or your teeth. It’s not about your eyes or your nose. It’s not about how much money you have. It’s not about how popular you are. It’s about what’s on the inside....that is where your heart is...and your heart is who you really are.
5 ... On every surface you are used on, you must leave your mark. No matter what the condition, you must continue to write.
Just like a pencil’s purpose is to leave its mark, you are to leave your mark wherever you go. No matter what the situation, you must continue to serve God in everything. No matter where you go, you can make a difference. You can leave behind a legacy. You can influence people and do it by just being yourself. You don’t have to fit into the in crowd. You don’t have to give in to the peer pressure. You don’t have to follow everyone else.
The pencil understood and promised to remember, and went into the box with purpose in its heart. Now, my question for you on this glorious Sunday morning is do you understand?  I know after today...that everytime I look at a pencil...I will remember the power it carries and know that I too have the ability to carry that same power.  Happy Sunday to you all...may yours be blessed.

Happy Caturday With a Twist

My students are all the time showing me something they think is of value from You Tube.  I love some of the stuff.  I have watched cats look like they are talking, groups sing, I first saw the Idol singing sensation from the UK on You Tube...because I don't watch American Idol.  I love it.  This week my intern shared one with me called Cat-Man-Do...it is about Simons Cat and I laughed until I hurt.  This has got to be the funniest thing ever....so since my good friend Jeannie always does a Happy Caturday I thought I would follow her lead today and do a Happy Caturday With a Twist.  If you want to see some absolutely priceless cats with quotes then you need to check her out....but...if not....I hope you enjoy the video I chose for you.  It is the Cat-Man-Do one I saw first.  I personally think it is the best...the Fly would have to be my second choice.  Have a great weekend!

Chuck E Cheese Virgin

I’m a Chuck E Cheese virgin.

At least I was until we finally went this past weekend.

I had no idea what to expect. I mean, I guess I sort of did because of the commercials. Some cartoon rat would bounce around the screen in front of games that lit up and a cacophony of children would sing, “Chuck E Cheese’s! Where a kid can be a kid!”

Tommy had been begging me to take him.

So we finally relented and said we’d go. He was ecstatic. Even Tom seemed to be a little excited. He had gone several times as a kid and bragged about how good he was at certain games.

When we first walked into Chuck E Cheese I was confused as to why this woman was stamping our hands with numbers.

“Why is she branding us?” I hissed to Tom.

“Our number matches our kids. That way someone can’t walk off with them. Because you just let your kids run and play in here,” Tom explained knowingly.

Um. Unattended children? That didn’t seem safe. But wait. The stamp number thing. I guess it made sense.

“Does that mean that random kids will be bugging us?” I wondered. And to prove my point, the second my hand was stamped a little boy ran up, stuck his tongue out, and scurried away.

“An unattended child just made a face at me!” I said to Tom indignantly. “Children should not be left unattended even with numbers. Kidnappers could probably manage to take a kid. They could—oh my God, Tom. What is that?” With a shaky finger, I pointed to a giant Chuck E. Cheese walking around. I do not like giant characters when you can’t see the face of the human that inhabits them. It’s probably why Yo Gabba Gabba terrifies me so much. “What kind of place is this?” I demanded.

Tom sighed beside me. “It’s just Chuck E. He won’t hurt you, I swear.”

But you never know what’s going on underneath the costume. That’s why I don’t like it when I can’t see the face. They could be LEERING at you or something.

“I don’t want to go near it,” I said, huddling up beside Tom. Another unattended child raced past.

“Look, we won’t go near it.” Tom rolled his eyes. “I’ll get a table, you get the pizza.”

I kept my eye on the giant rat. He was across the room, thank goodness. “Okay,” I said, and joined the line for our food. I had a coupon that I printed out and thank goodness I did because we would have paid nearly $15 more for a pizza and drinks. Plus my coupon included 40 tokens. I wasn’t sure what they were when the lady pushed the cup towards me.

“Gold?” I frowned.

“First time?” she asked. Her expression was all, “Holy crap, lady.”

I nodded.

“Those are the tokens to play the games,” she offered politely.

“Oh. Thanks.” I grabbed the tokens along with the plates and number for our pizza. Several unattended children nearly collided into me. I wanted to yell, “Where are your parents?” But then I remembered. It’s Chuck E Cheese. Kids aren’t attended here. I surveyed the room and found parents sitting at booths having adult conversations. Oh, how nice. I was beginning to understand this place. Too bad Natalie was too young to be left alone.

“Now what?” I asked Tom, dropping off the stuff.

“We play!” Tom grinned. He grabbed some tokens. “Come on, Tommy.” They started to walk off.

“Excuse me!” I called out. “What do I do?” I gestured to Natalie, who kept trying to walk away towards the blinking lights of some car game.

“Whatever you want,” Tom said unhelpfully.

Okay. I took Natalie’s hand. “What do you want to do?”

“Horsie!” Natalie said, pointing to a giant horse that looked as though it had seen better days.

But okay. Horsie it was. We got in line. It was our turn but then an unattended child cut in front of us and climbed up on the horse.

“Um,” I said. “It’s our turn.”

The kid looked to be around six, so he knew better.

“Sorry,” he said but didn’t sound it at all. And he didn’t remove his ass from the horse. I was about to remove him myself but then the GIANT CHUCK E CHEESE came up behind me.

“EEEEE!” I went, shielding myself with Natalie.

Giant Chuck E seemed amused. Or really, how would I know because I COULDN’T SEE HIS FACE. For all I knew, a chick could be under there.

Natalie liked him. “Hi!” she said and even gave the creature a hug. *Shudders*

Then Giant Chuck E held out his hand. What did he want from me? Was he trying to swipe my purse? Was he coming on to me? WHAT DID HE WANT?

Oh.

A high five.

Natalie happily gave him one. Then Giant Chuck E stuck his hand out towards my face. What, he expected ME to touch him? I gave him a half hearted high five and prayed that he’d go away.

He did. A group of unattended children surrounded him, saving me.

“I go der!” Natalie said, pointing to some plastic tunnels attached to the ceiling. It looked dangerous but what do I know? She easily climbed up and I watched as she crawled through the tunnels.

Then she refused to come down.

Tom and Tommy joined me. “Where’s Natalie?” Tom asked.

I pointed up. “She won’t come down.” I was beginning to panic. What if she refused? Would I have to climb up there? What if I got STUCK and the fire department was called to get me UNSTUCK? Oh, the humiliation. I knew I shouldn’t have eaten all those Ding Dongs.

“Mommy? I scared!” Natalie called out.

“Then go down the slide. Do you see the slide? GO DOWN THE SLIDE!” I yelled dramatically.

Tom gave me a Look. “Calm down.”

But I couldn’t down. My child was SCARED and I was just STANDING THERE.

“Mommy will come get you if you need help. Did you hear me? MOMMY WILL COME GET YOU!”

A few other parents stared at me as though I had a neon pink bra wrapped around my head.

And then the giant rat started coming closer again.

“Tell it to go,” I said to Tom as I struggled to find Natalie in the colorful tubes.

“Um, you can’t tell it to go. This is technically his place,” Tom reminded me.

“I don’t care, I want it to go, it freaks me out. NATALIE! Can you hear Mommy? Can you—” Then I realized Natalie was climbing back down. Phew. She hurried over, I scooped her up and got as far away from the rat as I could.

Our pizza arrived soon after that. It was pretty good. Though in the middle of eating, an unattended kid came and stared at us with his mouth wide open for a few minutes.

I was about to tell it to shoo but he abruptly turned and went to gape at another family.

“This place is strange, Tom,” I said, sipping some Diet Coke.

“Nah. It’s great. Look.” Tom dug in his pocket and produced a long trail of tickets.

“How did you win that?” I was impressed. It looked like a lot of tickets and at Chuck E Cheese I knew the tickets helped the kids win a prize.

“Oh. I have skills.” Tom blew off his fingers like he had just accomplished a major feat.

After we ate it was time for more games. Or in my case, avoiding the giant rat. Why wouldn’t he leave? Didn’t he get a break? Then as Natalie hopped on another ride, a bunch of giant puppets started to sing on a stage.

“What the hell?” I said, shrinking away. It looked like there was a giant chicken up there strumming on a guitar. What was it doing? Why was it singing?

“What’s wrong?” Tom asked, coming up beside me.

I jumped. “A giant chicken is SINGING!”

Tom chuckled. “That’s what happens. Like every half hour. For the children’s amusement,” he added. I think he believed that I thought they were singing to terrify me.

A frightening place indeed.

We finally used all our tokens. I rocked at Skee Ball. I won a total of five tickets. But still. I was impressed. This kid totally tried to take one of my balls and I was all, “HEY! MINE!” I think I scared him. But unattended children need to learn some manners.

In the end we had 97 tickets and the Chuck E Cheese worker kindly let me round it up to 100. So Tommy picked out a foam rocket and all Natalie wanted was a Chuck E Cheese balloon.

“Are you sure?” I didn’t really want that smiling rat in my home.

“BALLOON!” Natalie insisted. She stomped her foot down for emphasis.

So fine. We got her a balloon.

Before we left the numbers that had been stamped on our hand were checked. I almost forgot this and when the woman tried to take a peek at my hand I thought she was coming onto me and was about to swear off Chuck E Cheese forever. I mean first the giant rat, then the unattended children and now some stranger was pushing back the cuff of my sleeve?!

Then I realized what she was doing.

And then we went home with Tommy gripping his prized foam rocket, Natalie with her balloon, Tom feeling a high because he had performed well in games, and myself, who was slightly worried that the giant rat was going to follow us home.

He didn’t, thank goodness.

Well. In a way he did because look:



Help.

My Friday's Fave 5

I was reading posts this morning and my dear friend Mary was doing a great neme called Fave 5.  I love Friday so I thought I would check it out and decided to play too.  The original post came from Living to Tell the Story.  It is a great blog so you need to check it out.  Thanks Mary for introducing me to it.  So just what are my five favorite things for today? 

1.  The fact that it is Friday.(and unofficially senior skip day).  When you are this close to the end of the year, senioritis has set in on the students, believe me teachers take cheer in whatever they can. 
2.  Did I mention the fact that it is Friday?  Oh yes, that was number one.  Number two would have to be this wonderful weather.  The only thing wrong with it is that I have been cooped up inside...and the nice weather is outside...and tomorrow...when I am off...it is going to rain!  Still...I have enjoyed sitting on my porch this week after work...and just chilling and soaking in the warmth.
3.  Good friends - My birthday was on the 15th and I have gotten presents all week.  It has been better than Christmas.  Trina gave me a neat wind chime that is made out of wine bottles, I got a gift certificate from Silver to a neat Indian restaurant, I got a beatiful picture (spells out Korb) from my daughter (and it is going to be a blog post next week), I got a lovely silver bracelet from my friend Mary, a spa day from Amanda...I get to go to the Main Event...whooo hooo...., sun catchers from Kayla and Patsy....butterflies...a bracelet/scarf from Maelynn, wind chimes from Deb and Laurie...a Vera Bradley clutch from Cindy and Rita, a cross from Rhonda...and my favorite quote picture from Rita R.  Good friends Rock!
4.  Setting up the altar at the Arbor.  I love to design and set up the altar for the Arbor service.  It is so peaceful and most of the time I don't even cut the overhead lights on.  I just stand there with a little light streaming out from the closet area....it is my time with God.
5.  The azaleas in bloom.  Nothing is prettier....unless it is the hydrangeas when it is their turn.  That is the one thing I am going to miss about this house when we move.  The azaleas are fabulous here.  I am so glad all the flowers in the world don't bloom at the same time.  Life would be so bland.  Happy Friday!

Granddaddy's Guitar

Granddaddy's Guitar

Round back bent and broken

From years of nightly use.

Inlays missing, dusty,

rusty from  neglect and abuse.

Strings that are still and silent,

out of tune, played no more.

Once a master stroked you,

coerced the sound to soar.

The songs that lie encased,

inside your wooden heart,

These songs were my beginning,

where I got my start.

My grandfather once held you,

just like he once held me.

And when he touched our heart string,

set both our sprits free.

When I hold you now I know,

that I am free to know,

where eagles fly, where mill wheels turn,

where'er I want to go.

Thank you grandpa for this gift,

your favorite guitar.

I'll use it-while I'm here,

and then pass it on again!

Stillmagnolias, the group I sing with wrote a song about my grandfather.  If you would like to hear our music then check out our MySpace page StillMagnoliaslive and hear my group sing.  You might want to check out Flight 307 too.  My ex-husband has given us a plethera of ideas for music.  Happy Thursday!

Redbook to the Rescue?

It was not a good day.

I told Tom this when he woke up. He works the night shift so he sleeps until the afternoon. He seemed a little taken aback when he came down the stairs and saw me sitting in the middle of the living room with a bunch of Natalie’s toys surrounding me. Not to mention a spray of crumbs.

“Would you believe,” I said to Tom in a shaky voice, “that I had this room cleaned ten minutes ago? But just look. Look what you daughter did to it.”

Tom blinked. He wasn’t sure how to respond so he just scratched the side of his head and went, “Er.”

Very insightful man, that Tom.

“This has not been a good day,” I continued, standing up. I brushed crumbs off my knees. Natalie had been munching on some crackers and had decided to turn them into confetti. She had crumbled them into her palms and had tossed the bits into the air. “Weeee!” she had gone. “Weeee!” I had been in the kitchen doing the dishes and hadn’t known what she was doing.

“Why hasn’t it been a good day?” Tom asked, but his tone indicated that he really wasn’t interested. He probably just wanted to sit in front of the computer but he knew if he did that then I’d probably lash out and call him names. He says that I have rage issues and that I can be mean. This isn’t true. I mean, okay, maybe it’s a little true. I did call him numbnuts the other day but that was because he was just STANDING there as I was cleaning up. Who just STANDS there and watches another person clean? I mean honestly. I did apologize for the name calling, by the way.

“No one will listen to me,” I began. “This morning as I got Tommy off to school, he kept shouting even though I explained that Mommy wasn’t a morning person and that if he valued keeping his tongue, that he ought to keep it down. Then Natalie was up and she didn’t want to listen and kept bringing out every single toy she owns to the living room. I tried to get a tiny break in and read a few pages of my book but then she wanted to play tea. I said I didn’t want to play tea but she insisted, slapped her tea hat on me and forced a plastic cup in my hand. After tea time I went upstairs to clean and realized that your son had PISSED in the plastic tote that holds his cars. Who does that? Is he some kind of animal?”

Tom made a face. “Er,” he offered.

“Then your daughter won’t stop shitting. I cleaned three shits today and I think it’s because she ate an entire tray of veggies yesterday. Then I had to do the catbox and let me tell you Tom, I’m so tired of dealing with other people’s bowel movements. I’m just so tired and I just want to sit and BE for a bit but I can’t because I live with a bunch of animals!” I concluded.

“Go upstairs and rest then,” Tom suggested. Thank goodness he actually said something. If he had gone “er” I might have called him numbnuts again.

I did go upstairs. I started to go through my pile of papers that I’ve been meaning to sort through. I stumbled upon several magazine articles that I had torn out—if an article interests me, I tear it out so I can re-read it.

I found one that made me smile.



It was from Redbook and it was about 5 ways to de-stress in 20 minutes or less.

Sweet!

I definitely needed to de-stress. So I surveyed the article and decided to do the different ideas that it suggested.

Number one was to tidy up a little.

Um.

I had been tidying up all day. Didn’t the article realize I had been dealing with people’s excrements? According to the article, stress-reducing endorphins sometimes get released while cleaning.

This doesn’t happen o me.

Stress-CAUSING endorphins get released when I clean. Because I start to think, “Why am I picking up a GROWN MAN’S socks? Why is there PISS in this plastic bin? How many turds is this child going to produce?”

So yeah. I moved onto the next suggestion.

That one said that I ought to stare out the window because nature scenes can help a person de-stress.

Okay. I could give it a try.

I gazed out the window.

La-la-la, waiting for the de-stress to wash over me.

A few cars drove by. Boring.

Then I noticed my neighbor in her yard planting something. She was staring up at me in confusion.

Great. My neighbor probably thought that I was either A) spying on her or B) checking her out.

“It’s okay,” I wanted to say, waving the article around. “I’m just trying to de-stress!”

Ugh.

So that bombed.

I checked the article again. Number three said I should sniff some coffee. Problem? We don’t drink coffee in this house. Maybe I could run to Starbucks? The article said that the smell of coffee beans helped relax sleep-deprived rats after all.

Wait a minute.

RATS?

Was the article comparing me to a RAT?

Moving on to suggestion number four.

Ohhh. It was telling me to get my game on. Apparently games are distracting from your problems. Well, duh. The thing is, I don’t play a lot of computer games. Not anymore. I used to play a game called EverQuest before I had kids but now I don’t have time for it. I do play the Wii but usually when the kids are in bed because if I try to do it when Natalie is up, she stands directly in my way and tries to take the Wii-mote from me. Then I get irritated and she cries and shouts that I’m not SHARING and I wind up turning the game off.

I checked out the last suggestion.

Score a yoga buzz just by breathing.

You mean all I had to do was BREATHE to relax?

I decided to try it out. I was told that I should sit quietly and close my eyes. Then I needed to let my muscles completely relax and release tension. I had to shrug my shoulders, and roll my head and neck. I did this and felt like I was Linda Blair. I breathed in and out, in and out. Ooo, maybe it was working. I did feel relaxed. I did—

“Where are the diapers? Natalie took a dump!” Tom’s voice rudely cut into my thoughts.

I kept my eyes closed. “You know where they are,” I yelled back. Why doesn’t he check first? Does he think I wake up and go, “I think I’ll change where I store the diapers.”

“It really SMELLS!” Tom boomed.

“Welcome to my world!” I answered.

Silence.

Ahh, I could relax again.

I was drifting away into another world, one filled with cosmopolitans, lifetime chocolate supplies and an explanation of what in the world is going on with Lost. I was—

“What are you doing?” The bedroom door was thrown open and Tom stood there with Natalie beside him.

“De-stressing,” I said. My eyes were still shut.

“You look like you’re about to fall asleep sitting up,” Tom the genius observed.

“I’m not. I’m trying to—oofff!” The ooof was because Natalie hurled her body into me and I fell back. My eyes snapped open and Natalie’s face was inches from mine.

“Horsie!” she said and sat on my face. Ugh. Thank goodness Tom had changed her diaper. Otherwise I’d have probably passed out.

“Get off Mommy,” Tom said, lifting her off. He stared down at me. “Are you better now?” That was his way of saying, “Are you going to be nice and not call me names?”

I sighed and stood up. “I guess.”

“I know a way to cheer you up,” Tom said and I thought he was going to suggest something sexual. But no, he said that he’d take me out for some ice cream.

“Remember Dairy Queen has that deal where you can buy a blizzard and get another one for twenty five cents,” Tom added, knowing it would make me happy that we’d save some money in the process.

So in the end, the article didn’t really help me de-stress.

It was my delicious Butterfinger blizzard that did.

In Which I Stink At Bowling

We went bowling over the weekend.



It looks like someone needs to teach Tommy about good sportsmanship.

He was ticked because he didn’t get a strike like Tom did. I said, “Kid, look, you knocked all but one pin down. That’s good!”

He was all, “It’s not good enough,” and pouted in his chair.

Gee, I wonder where he gets that behavior from?

(TOM!)

Have I mentioned that Tom owns his own bowling ball and shoes? Well, he does. He used to be really into bowling. I find it amusing that he even has a special cloth to wipe down his ball after each use. He also has these shoe cover things to cover the bottom of his shoes.

I mocked him for that, too.

He was all, “What, the covers are so gross stuff don’t get on the bottom of them. Stuff can throw my balance off and I won’t be able to throw the ball well.”

Um. Okay. Psycho.

Kidding, kidding.

I use the bowling alley shoes and the bowling alley balls. I found a pretty pink one and thought that she and I would make a good team.

We didn’t.

Make a good team, that is.

Because during my first two turns I got NOTHING. My ball kept rolling in the gutter.

“Do I need to put the bumpers up for you?” Smart Ass Tom called out.

I’d have given him the finger if the children hadn’t been around.

Natalie seemed to like bowling.





It was her first time so she didn’t really get the concept at first. When she rolled the ball down she was all, “Where da ball going?”



She soon got into the game and started to do a happy dance after each turn.

And Tom?

Well, he takes his game seriously. He’d march up there all determined and put on his special bowling gloves.

Yes. He also has bowling gloves.



Then he’d do this fancy move and hurl the ball down the lane.

When he’d finish with his turn he’d polish his ball down and put on his shoe covers. This is why there aren’t any photos of me. I asked him to take a photo of me but he was too busy messing with his ball (ha!) or his shoes.

Towards the end I debated hiding his shoe covers to see if he’d flip out.

I didn’t though.

Because I fear he would have flipped out. Heaven forbid something gets on the bottom of his bowling shoes.

In the end, we all had fun. Tommy did have a small meltdown because he didn’t understand why I got to have an extra turn. See, I got a spare on my last frame which meant I got to go again. I always forget this so I sat back down and Tom was all, “Go!” and I was all, “WTF, it’s not my turn, Tom. Duh.” And then he explained the rules to me.

Oops.

So yeah, Tommy was all, “Why do you get to go again, that’s not fair,” and had an Asperger flare up. I calmly explained what happened and he took a few deep breaths and was able to calm himself down.

Until Natalie got a strike and got to go again.

Then he was all, “SHE gets to go again too?” So I was praying that he’d get a spare and get to go again.

He didn’t.

So of course he pouted all over again so I had Tom explain the rules and Tom did and added, “Toughen up, okay?” Naturally this made me irritated with Tom because I had to re-explain Aspergers to him. I feel like I have to explain Tommy’s behavior on a weekly basis to Tom. He just doesn’t get it.

Other than that, it was an enjoyable evening.



I sucked, as you can tell (I'm A):



Tom’s score is covered but he got a 114. He was all, “That’s not good enough.”

Dude. I’d be thrilled with anything over 100.

But I guess he’s used to scores near the 200s or something.

Well, la-di-dah, Tom.

Random Dozen

Today is Random Dozen Day and my friend Linda over at 2nd cup of Coffee is hosting it.  I loved the questions this week....especially the first one after the NPR report on George Washingtons overdue library.

1. Ever had any run-ins with the "library police?"
Who me?  Never....I was the youngest card carrying member of the Palm Beach County library.  The biggest fine I ever paid was a quarter.

2. Do you have a special organizational plan and place for wrapping paper, gift bags, etc., or do you just purchase whatever you need as you give gifts?  I buy Christmas presents all year and store everything in a gift closet.  I love to find the perfect gift...for the perfect price....what an accomplishment.

3. Have you ever been in (first-hand witness) a natural disaster?  Hurricanes in South Florida....Andrew especially, Opal in Alabama, and numerous tornadoes...but that is what happens when you live in hurricane and tornado prone systems.

4. What's your favorite Barry Manilow song? I Write the Songs and Copa Cabana.  Two seperate genres.

5. What's the best costume you've ever worn? Western saloon girl.

6. Which do you use more often, the dictionary or the thesaurus?  Dictionary

7. What's your favorite breakfast food?  Oatmeal

8. Have you ever purchased anything from an infomercial?  Well duh...and usually sent it back.  How silly is that?

9. Have you ever crawled through a window?  In or out?  I have climbed out a few times as a teen....and in a few times when I locked my keys in the car or house.

10. Do you believe in love at first sight?  Yes, the first time I met my husband....I knew I loved him.

11. How man pairs of jeans do you own?  Two.  We can only wear them on Friday's.

12. If someone were going to bake a cake to honor/represent you, what would it be? (Think creatively, like Duff and Crew on "Ace of Cakes.")  Duff on the Ace of Cakes would be nice...but my friend Deborah....who makes cakes would be my choice.  I love her cakes.

Sew What!

One of my most favorite memories growing up is sitting at my grandmother's feet while she sewed.  I would gather the small pieces of cloth together and with her dress maker pins make doll clothes for my little clothes pin dolls.  I would take a pen and draw a face on the doll and then color her some hair so you could tell if it was a boy or a girl.  I loved this time.  My grandmother's sewing machine was a pedal machine and the hum of the machine and the creaking of the peddle would eventually lull me to sleep in the piles of cloth on the floor.  I am a white noise kind of girl and sleep quite peacefully with a humming sound playing in my thoughts.  I am still that way....a ceiling fan will put me to sleep in a heartbeat.  But this post is not about white noise, it is about sewing.  My mom sewed too.  I remember when I was small she would get scraps of fabric and make me some of the cutest outfits.  We did not have much money then and she was very thrifty with what she had.  My mom could go to the department store, look at a dress, come home, take a brown paper bag, cut a pattern and produce the outfit.  My mom missed her calling in life.  She should have been a fashion designer.  She was awesome with a needle and thread...just like both of my grandmothers....and then I came along.  I took Home Economics in junior high and it was horribly painful for me.  I just could not measure up to my ancestors where sewing and cooking were concerned....but I tried.  It was one of my first "C's" in school.  About that time in my life....Villager dresses became the latest style and fad....they were shirtwaist dresses made out of pastel kettle cloth...and I wanted one.  We were still poor....so my mom....not missing a beat went to Burdines, looked at the dress, came home and produced one that looked just like it....tucks in the front and all.  It was identical....but not to me.  It was a second.  Where the little tag went that said Villager in the original dress...mine had a little tag that said Made with Love by Wilma.  I was mortified.  Kids can be so cruel....and the upper crust kids of my school made fun of my dress and called me a ragamuffin.  I thought I would die.  I hated those dresses because they caused me extreme pain during phys. ed at school.  I never told my mom that....I just told her I did not want the dresses anymore....and believe me...I had one in every color of kettle cloth there was.  I continued to wear them....at least when I left the house....I would have a change of clothes in my purse...and change at my friends house before getting on the bus.  When we got home I would change back.  My mom was none the worse for wear...she never knew.  I went to work for Burdines when I was 16.  My first purchase was going to be a real Villager dress.  Know what...it wasn't.  After I had worked so hard for that check....I just could not spend it all on just a dress.....sooooo....I developed my first compulsion.  I bought shoes!  LOL....I eventually worked in the shoe department of Burdines and shoes became my life's blood.  I could not wait for a new shipment to come in....oh I didn't buy NEW shoes...I would buy the ones on the sale rack.  I learned...I could have two...and sometimes three for what one cost.  Valuable lesson.  I had some of the best looking shoes at school and my friends were envious.  This story takes a funny twist....because when I had my first child....I bloomed as a seamstress.  I loved making cute little things for Kat.  I smocked, did french hand-sewing, candlewicking, I loved anything that involved a needle and thread.  Where was this girl when I was in junior high and needed to pass Home Ec.?  I was an adult now...and I  learned the cost of those Villager dresses.  I discovered just how much love went into each and every one of those shirtwaist dresses my mother made for me.  I actually apologized to my mom one day out of the blue.  I simply said, "I am sorry, Mom."  She asked me why and I could not tell her that I was ashamed of the homemade clothes and shouldn't have been...I just told her...for all the times I had hurt her when I was growing up....she smiled and hugged me tightly.  Today, I would love to have one of those dresses....the blue one was my favorite.  Happy Tuesday!

Hey, It's Okay Tuesday!

I got this idea from Glamour magazine. They have a section called Hey, It’s Okay and will list a bunch of things to be okay about. I think I’m going to do this every Tuesday now. You're welcome to join in and do something like this on your diary. Doesn't have to be on a Tuesday either.

Hey, It's Okay....



To hate when people go, “How are WE this morning?” I always want to respond, “I’m okay, not sure about you though.”


To know that you’ll never be able to do the Silent Sex that is suggested in Redbook because you are too darn chatty.


To know what episode of Friends it is after only seeing a few seconds of it.


To throw up a little when couples constantly say that they are each other’s best friends.


To wish you could afford to go to The Melting Pot every week. Hello, chocolate fondue!


To still jump when people have music on their blogs thanks to the fact that your husband blasts the speakers and forgets to turn them off when he’s done with his game.


To hope that one day an agent will surprise you and be all, “I love your book, I’d love to help you get it published.”


To wonder if Henry VIII gets a kick out of the whole Tiger Woods debacle from Heaven seeing as he was quite lusty in the sack as well (but never got punished because hello, he was King.)


To seriously wonder why people don’t use their turn signals. Is it so difficult to flick your wrist?


To be a little nervous listing stuff on eBay because you worry about encountering an eBay nutter who complains about every.little.thing.


To know that you will never give up Little Debbie snacks no matter how often people go on about hydrogenated oils.

Just Messing Around

I love bluebirds....but I usually like real ones....that is until this weekend when I was scoping out the new stuff at Longleaf Antique Mall.  I had taken some stuff up there to spruce up my booth and as always, walked through the store at a clip just to see what has been added by other venders.  Imagine my surprise when I rounded the last  corner and there it was.  The cutest casserole dish I have ever seen in my life.  I fell in love with it right then and there.....not so much for me...but for a friend of mine who is a bird fanatic.  I snapped a quick pic with my phone and sent it to her to see if she had one of these....and instantly received a message from her saying...get it.  I love it when a plan comes together....don't you?....and you have to admit that this is one cute piece.

The Melting Pot Files

Have I mentioned how much I love The Melting Pot?

No?

Well, I love The Melting Pot.

I especially love when I can go to The Melting Pot without my children present. It means I can relax and not have to admonish a child for staring at another patron. It means I can eat my food AS SOON AS IT ARRIVES and not have to worry about tending to someone else’s.

I got to go to The Melting Pot without children on Friday. I went with my friend Amanda. We left our kids with the husbands and took off.

Seriously. I took off. When it came time for Amanda to pick me up, I kissed my children goodbye and rushed on out of there. Natalie didn’t want to let me go at first. She gripped onto my leg and told me to stay. I was briefly touched (aww, she likes me, she really likes me!) but then I got irritated when she wouldn’t let go. I mean, she was behaving like I went out all the time. She made me feel like that scary ass mom in The Nanny Diaries.

“Er Tom?” I called out, because he was sitting in front of the computer playing his game.

“Tom?” I said again.

Nothing.

“TOM!”

He jumped and turned. “What?” He had the nerve to look irritated with me.

I pointed to Natalie, who was glued to my knee. “Your daughter. I need to go.”

Tom came over and picked Natalie up.

“I want Mommy,” Natalie said and reached her arms out to me.

Oh for—

Look, I’m not THAT entertaining.

She just totally wanted to get her way.

But she wasn’t going to get her way. Because I gave her a kiss and hightailed it out of there. I love her to bits, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes I feel like a caged animal who has finally been let free.

I highly recommend The Melting Pot. I do not recommend bringing little children there seeing as a burner is in the middle of your table. Granted, I have seen little children being brought in but I imagine that these are Good Children Who Know Not To Touch. I have curious children who would probably put their palms smack down on the burner just to see if it was as hot as I told them it was.

So yes. No kids when I go.



The first course is the cheese fondue. It’s amazing. I am a huge fan of cheese. The waiter or waitress prepares it all in front of you. This means that they have to be chatty because it would be awkward if they just stood there in silence stirring cheese. Amanda and I had a waiter who I wanted to call Hans even though I believe he said his name was Scott. He looked like a Hans though.



I wanted to hug Hans when he said that we both looked too young to have two children. Because lately I’ve been feeling old and gross and holy crap is that a new WRINKLE near my eye? And here comes Hans saying that I looked young. Granted, I bet Hans just wanted a nice tip so he figures calling women young does the trick. Oh well.



After the cheese course comes a delicious salad. Then the meat. You’re given a bunch of raw meat and you cook it in these scrumptious broth. I tried not to laugh when Hans laid down a large silver spoon and said that it was for floaters that escaped our pokers.

Yes, I wanted to giggle when he said floaters.

No, I didn’t because I’m twenty seven and shouldn’t be laughing at things like that anymore.

Okay, I did laugh after Hans left.

I couldn’t help it.

I’m only human.

The last bit is my favorite.

Want to guess what it is?

Yup.

The CHOCOLATE fondue.

If you sign up for The Melting Pot’s mailing list, you get a coupon for free chocolate fondue if you buy all the other courses we did.

By the time the chocolate fondue came around, I was full. But I’m never too full for chocolate.

I mean, how could you turn THIS down?



You get angel food cake, brownies, strawberries, bananas, cheesecake, and rice krispy treats to dip in it.

Plus if you get the chocolate fondue we got, the Yin and Yang, you could lie and tell yourself that it’s actually quite healthy since it includes dark chocolate and that you’re only helping your heart by ordering it.

At least that’s what I do.

Yes, The Melting Pot can be expensive. With the coupon, it came to $70. But if you split the costs, it’s not so bad.

And trust me when I say that it’s WORTH IT.

It's Not As Easy As It Looks

Frank, my husband, preached one of his best sermons today.  He started out with a story that Garrison Keillor, from Prairie Home Companion tells.  I love NPR and Prairie Home Companion.  Garrison Keillor has such a dry wit.  He entertained us for 19 days on our Pacific Northwest Vacation.  Everywhere we stopped we would find another book on tape so we could hear more of his tales.  I love storytellers...and I think that is why I love Books on Tape so much.  Argh!  I am getting off point here...the story that I loved the most was about a man who was trying to cross the street. As he steps off the curb a car comes screaming around the corner and heads straight for him. The man walks faster, trying to hurry across the street, but the car changes lanes and is still coming at him. So the guy turns around to go back, but the car changes lanes again and is still coming at him. By now, the car is so close and the man so scared that he just freezes and stops in the middle of the road. The car gets real close, then swerves at the last possible moment and screeches to a halt right next him. The driver rolls down the window. The driver is a squirrel. The squirrel says to the man, "See, it’s not as easy as it looks, is it?"  So many times in life we talk about things other people do...how we would have done it differently...and how easy the answer seemed....but...unless we have walked in that person's moccassins...we truly don't know how easy or hard something is.  So signing off for Sunday with my most favorite Garrison Keillor quote, "Goodbye from Lake Wobegon, where all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average." Happy Sunday!

How You Live

Today was Melissa's funeral...no...nope....that is not quite what it was.  Today was a celebration of Melissa's life.  As I told you earlier this week she was one in a million.  This special young lady had the driest of wits, a smile as big as all outdoors, loved deeply, was a daddy's girl, was her brother's best friend, a true friend to her friends....and while I sat there at the funeral with Kat and Brian and my good friend Carolyn I thought to myself...this is what I want.  This is what kind of person I want to be remembered as when my time comes.  The music played prior to Melissa's funeral was not your traditional preludes...nope...it was Free Falling, and How You Live.  The music during the funeral was I Can Only Imagine(sung by her former music minister) and How Great is Our God (sung by Laela Syphurs....a high school friend). The words spoken were powerful and when we left...we all left with a challenge to live our lives to the fullest....just like Meliisa did.  We loved Melissa and she will be sorely missed.  She was one of those students who will never be forgotten.  While she walked on this earth...she left some mighty big footprints for us all to follow in.  I will do my best not to let her down.
How You Live Lyrics...if you don't want to watch the video clip...read the words, they are the message.

Verse 1:

Wake up to the sunlight

With your windows open

Don't hold in your anger or leave things unspoken

Wear your red dress

Use your good dishes

Make a big mess and make lots of wishes

Have what you want

But want what you have

And don't spend your life lookin' back

Chorus:

Turn up the music, turn it up loud 

Take a few chances , let it all out

You won't regret it.  Lookin' back from where you have been 

Cuz it's not who you knew, and it's not what you did. It's how you live. 

Verse 2:

So go to the ballgames

And go to the ballet

And go see your folks more than just on the holidays

Kiss all your children

Dance with your wife

Tell your husband you love him every night

Don't run from the truth

'Cause you can't get away

Just face it and you'll be okay

Chorus:
Bridge:

Oh wherever you are and wherever you've been

Now is the time to begin

Verse 3:

So give to the needy

And pray for the grieving

E'en when you don't think that you can

'Cause all that you do is bound to come back to you

So think of your fellow man

Make peace with God and make peace with yourself

'Cause in the end there's nobody else

Chorus

Tag:
'Cause it's not who you knew

And it's not what you did

It's how you live