Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Seriously, Bad Night

Bad night. Again, I just have to ask WHY? Why me? Why now? What is the plan in all of this? How is all this stress making me a better person? When I get to heaven, God and I are going to have a serious talk. It will be me asking, What the f*ck was up with all that stress??? And God will be pointing at me and laughing, Ha-ha! Got you!

So there I was, being all good after Praise Team practice. I'd had a great time, singing, being silly, praising the Creator. I was on the phone with my mom, had turned on the car and was backing out of the parking space. Then there was this REALLY LOUD noise, like a car with one of those giant mufflers that always drives by your house and wakes up your kids. I thought it was one of the guys getting on his motorcycle. Then I realized that he wasn't near his cycle, and that my car was the only thing on in the parking lot. Shit. I got off the phone and climbed out of the car. One of the guys, Mike, says "It sounds like your muffler fell off." So he kneels down and looks under the car. Well, it wasn't the muffler. It was something much further up toward the front. He also used the words catalytic converter. Either way, something had disconnected itself from the underside of my car. And it was making a lot of noise. I used some words that have probably never been said in a church parking lot before.

I couldn't get hold of hubs on the phone because he was still in class. So I called my mommy to come get me. [Thank God she lives in town!] I had to leave the car there. Now, we've got to wake the kids up super-early so the family can have "Take Your Mommy To Work" day in the morning. Then hubs has to take them to daycare/preschool. Then he has to find someone who can tow that thing to a mechanic who will HOPEFULLY be able to fix it fairly quickly. We are most certainly a 2-car family. We have trouble functioning when we only have one car. It's not pretty. Arguments ensue.

On the fun side, hmm... I'm racking my brain and I cannot think of what the fun side is. We had Open House at school tonight. It was only for 6th grade parents, so it wasn't too bad. Good news: LP's mom has not called my principal back. Maybe she has gotten some help from a psychologist or something. Yay! And my Mary Kay business is picking up some. Obviously, we need the money. Guess it's good that hubs went and picked up his loan check today from school. There was some extra there we weren't counting on. Guess what it's being used for????

And I feel like I need to clarify that my husband is not a total deadbeat. He's actually a really good guy. Like any other man, he can be insensitive and selfish sometimes. But underneath it all, he's a good, Christian man that I'm glad I married and had babies with. If I didn't have him, I would be lost!!!

AND, in OLTA news: my size 12s are getting a bit loose. Hmmmm, maybe I will get some new pants soon. Maybe I will be a size 8 again! I am going to wi-in! (in a sing-song voice)

Monday, August 28, 2006

Week 2: OLTA

Check in day!

Weight: still holding at 157.

I wasn't too good last week. I had pizza TWICE on Friday. Also ate out on Saturday night. It was a rough week, with psycho mom out there. Sometimes a girl just has to have some "bad" food. Oh, well. At least I maintained!

Today, I went to the gym. What a good little girl I am! I am going to lose my whole ass! (I have to go. I can hear the boys banging stuff around in the living room.)

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Check it out!

Your Passion is Gray

Your sexual attitude is best described as apathetic.
Often joking that you're asexual, you can go months without getting any.
For you, great sex does not make or break a relationship.
If it happens, it's just the icing on the cake.

I knew it! My husband is always wondering why I never want to "do it." Now we know: I'm just apathetic. As well I should be, taking care of preteens and teenagers all day long then coming home to someone who acts like one! What does he expect, really?

The Third Week of School

I was under the impression that as school goes on, it's supposed to get easier and easier. So, how come this week was ever-so-much worse than the previous two? And I only worked 3.5 days out of 5! It's not the kids, really. They are tolerable. (Though my 8th graders are getting dangerously close to having a pop quiz every single day till they can close their little smart mouths.) It's the parents!! God help me if I turn into one of these parents. God help YOU if you are one!

The week before last, I went over a project with my 6th graders. As is my practice, I took some examples from the previous years to show the kids what to do and what to avoid. One of these projects belonged to a child who shall be known as LP. He and I had a rough time last year. He liked to talk and often ended up at a table alone due to his loud mouth. By the end of the year, we had it under control and he was allowed to sit with the rest of the class. We would joke around, and I was truly sad to see him move to a different language. I'd seen LP a few times this year, and always said hi with a smile. No big deal.

Well, I showed his project to the class. It's an ABC book in Latin. His was perfect, except it had the English meanings on the pages which was wrong. So I mentioned to the class that they should avoid this on their own books. I then proceeded to the next student's book, which also contained English words, which (to make it worse) were marked over with black marker. It looked really bad, and I cautioned the class about this mistake as well. The second example also had poor pictures which were hard to discern. I talked longer about this second bad example. Much longer than I had talked about LP's book.

On Wednesday of this week (a full week after this book showing occurred), there was a rather nasty voicemail left for me at work. LP's mom was ranting about how I talked about her son in class and said all his work "sucks." Hmm... some lovely child in my class had obviously set her off and told her a bald-faced lie. On Thursday, LP's mom talked to my immediate supervisor, who then went and spoke to some kids in my class. NONE OF THEM could confirm that I had said LP's work "sucks." (Amazing!) Of course, this did not appease LP's mom, who determined that the children had been intimidated by my supervisor and could not tell the truth to her. (Whatever!) Then she threatened to call a lawyer! Yikes! On Friday, my principal attempted to contact LP's mom, but had to leave her a message as she was neither at work nor home.

Excuse my language, but WHAT THE F*CK???!!! I am upset, saddened, hurt. In all my years of teaching, I have never used the word "sucks" about any child's work. No matter how bad it is! And I certainly would not say it in front of other children, even if that's what I was thinking. I don't know what to do. This woman wants to meet with me and give me a good telling off. Right now, my principal is still against this. He doesn't want his teachers to be attacked. Thank God! This woman is seriously off her rocker. Whatever happened last year between LP and I in class is long over. I harbor no ill will toward her son. I just don't get it. And I don't know where to go from here. I'm scared to answer my office phone, in case it's psycho-mom. I don't want to walk around campus because I'm scared to see LP and either A) ignore him and have mom think I'm being mean or, B) say hello and have mom think I'm saying it in a mean way. There's no way to win.

Sometimes, I wish I could just quit.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Finally Some Good News

I took Colby to the doctor again today. This time, it was the urologist. Evidently, the little man has a large bladder. I suppose that will come in handy when he's in college, what with all the drinking, but now not so good. The surgeon noticed it back in June, but today (August!) was the earliest we could get in to see the guy. Of course, first we had to come in and have a couple of "procedures" done. An ultrasound. No big deal, if you are pregnant and over the age of 4. A HUGE deal if you are a little boy who's been poked a lot. Colby threw a fit! However, once I'd done an ultrasound on my forearm, he was fine. It also helped that the tech had Incredibles on the TV. Smart woman.

The other procedure was a VCUG, or some other such initials. It involved sticking a catheter up his pee-pee, introducing some "special water", then taking x-rays. Obviously, that idea went over like a ton of bricks. I think my nose is bruised from where Colby elbowed me. I had to physically lay over the top half of his little body. A nurse had to lay over his legs. And the tech guy was attempting to hold down his butt while inserting the catheter. It took two tries. It was highly unpleasant. I do not recommend it. Before they began, I asked if Colby could get some happy-making medicine. The guy said they didn't have any. I should have fought harder. He cried and screamed. I cried. Ugh! This is the second highly unpleasant procedure I've had to hold him down for. Geez! Give me a freakin' break. You'd think I would know to just walk away.

Anyway, once all the unpleasantness was over, he got like 3 rolls of stickers. He was fine. Then we had about 3.5 hours to kill until seeing the doctors. So we strolled around Charleston. It was fun. We had lunch together, played in the park, chased birds...it was mommy bliss! And the doctors had good news. The large bladder - nothing to be concerned about! His colostomy and inner workings - doing fine. No CT scan for 3 more months! Yippee! Finally some good news on the medical front. It was like a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders. (It may also have been all the weight that is falling off my ass! Twinkie!!!)

Also today, which I forgot because I was so preoccupied with Colby, Weston got the results back from a biopsy he'd had a couple of weeks ago. They found a polyp in his butt. It was benign! (More good news!) Unfortunately, if they hadn't caught it, it could have become cancerous. So, this intensifies the "healthy eating" at my house. Good for me, bad for all the other ass-losers. We even had a vegetarian dinner tonight. Course, I didn't notice till I was halfway through eating. Funny. (I was pretty full after drinking/inhaling that chocolate shake on the 2-hour drive home.)

So, today was a less stressful day in some ways. I'm glad that the medical issues seem to be correcting themselves. Other than Colby having a bag attached to his tummy, we are doing pretty well. And really, don't we deserve it?

Now everyone go eat some Ho Ho's and drink lots of wine! Except me. I'm trying to LOSE MY ASS!

Monday, August 21, 2006

Just Another Day in Paradise

Just checking in:

Weight: 157 (-2 libs.)

Woo-hoo! I'm trying to be healthy, I'm trying to be healthy. So why did I eat all those M & M's and tortilla chips? Luckily, all I had for dinner was a salad. Yum, yum.

Bennett was sick today, so I had to take half a day offf work. Weston called right when I got to school and announced that Bennett had thrown up during the night. Fun. When I got home at 11:30, Weston left to go to orientation at the Seminary. I went back to Bennett's room to get him some shorts - SURPRISE - and saw the vomit still on the sheets and his stuffed monkey (Bobo). I was not happy. Hello! Can you not even clean up the puke? How did I get stuck with that? Oh, well. I cleaned ita ll p before the little guy took a nap. Bobo even got a "bath" in the washing machine. I think he liked it.

Luckily, Bennett's all better now. It comes from spending the day with Mommy. If only I could do this every day. Not the throw-up part, just the being home with the "baby" part. And how cute are they:
Isn't this adorable? We just got their hair cut over the weekend. My father-in-law called and exclaimed: "You sheared him!" He barely even recognized his own grandson. I know, I know. Everyone is jealous of my adorable, sweet little angels. Eat your heart out!

Sunday, August 20, 2006

A (political) Thought

I just got an email from one of my girlfriends, Jennie. She and I have been friends since freshman year of college. We were in the same sorority. We shared an apartment senior year. We even shared a dog after grad. Her husband, Ken, is a captain in our Armed Forces, Army. He's been in Afghanistan since the spring. This is his second tour over there. Jennie's email said that Ken's convoy had been hit by some kind of grenade and that he is hurt. He's lost his left arm below the elbow and has various other injuries. He's on his way to Walter Reed.

Obviously, I am saddened by this. I was in their wedding, and they were both in mine. Ken and my husband are also friends, ROTC buddies, and fraternity brothers. Their son was born the year between my two. We let the three of them play at homecoming every year, and they get along great. This news breaks my heart and makes me cry. This is the closest to my world that this "conflict" has come yet.

And it makes me mad. I am not a very political person. As long as the gov't lets me live my life with no interference, I'm okay with them. Sure, I bitch about taxes and the fact that I get paid next to nothing and No Child Left Behind, but other than that I'm pretty easy-going. Now, I'm pissed. I don't agree with this problem. I don't agree that my friends and other people's friends and family, should have to go fight, get hurt, and die for this bullshit cause. I know that there are bad people, terrorists, in the world. I understand that they are out to get the US because we are such a terrible God-less nation. But what we are doing over there, it sucks. It's obviously not doing any good. They are still blowing each other up. They are still blowing up our guys. They are still sending other terrorists to get on planes in Britain. So what is the point? I just don't understand. Especially while I'm paying $2.80 a gallon for gas.

Don't get me wrong, I fully support our men and women in uniform. While they're over there, I hope they are okay. I wish no bad stuff to happen to them. I just don't think they need to be there to begin with. We can't find Osama bin Laden. We've already gotten rid of Saddam Hussein. And nothing has improved! Is that not a clue that maybe we're in the wrong place?! What are we doing over there, other than pissing off the people who live there. We are disrupting their lives, sometimes even accidently killing them. I don't understand.

C'mon, Bush! Bring our men and women home! And to my new blog-friends, please pray for Jennie, Ken, and all the families impacted by these wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. No matter what side of this war argument you are on, we all want it to end.

Saturday, August 19, 2006

A Funny

Randy Johnson, the Big Unit, does his duty by throwing balls, hard and fast, at other men. (Just read it aloud to yourself a few times. It's had me giggling all afternoon!)

"I like the hose car, Mommy," said my 3-year-old. (Again, say it aloud.)

Worries in My Heart

I'm a little freaked out. Colby has been potty-trained, more or less, for about a year now. He's had those couple of surgeries for the Hirschsprung's Disease, but it hasn't really affected his peeing ability. Until now. I don't know what to make of it. He's started school now and seems to be having a marvelous time. But there's a problem lurking. He won't use the potty. This week, he's had three accidents! The last one, yesterday, apparently he was standing right in front of the toilet and peed in his pants. I don't get it. I feel like I'm missing something. He goes just fine at home. Do you think something is going on at school? He doesn't really talk about any of the other kids. Maybe someone is picking on him because of his frequent trips to the nurse and his colostomy bag? Kids in preschool don't do that, do they?

My mom has been telling me, ever since this last operation which reattached the colostomy, that I need to take him to a child psychologist. That maybe he could be having some issues. But he seems fine. Except for the pee thing. What else can we do? We have a chart for stickers. He gets a cool prize whenever he gets 10 stars. We even count the ones he does at school! Why would he not go? All the other little kids are going. It's a requirement of this program that kids be potty-trained. I don't understand. And to be perfectly honest, I'm embarrassed. I don't want to be the one who's kid can't go to the bathroom. I don't want to be the parent that the teacher has to call every day to bring yet another change of clothes. I don't want anyone to think that my kid isn't "normal." Or that I'm a bad mommy.

Maybe underneath, it makes me feel like I'm not doing my job. Like I've let it slide and haven't been doing my duty (or doo-ty. hee-hee.) But this is about him too. I don't want the other kids to look at him and point and call him a baby. He's my sweetheart. My little man. I just want him to be like everyone else.

Anyway, it's just another hurdle to jump over in this journey. It seems like every time we get through one problem (sick kid, loss of job, sick kid again, starting school, sick kid again) something else comes up. I wish our whole life could be normal. Just for a week.

I also wish my husband would get up off his ass and find a part-time job. It's really hard knowing that my public school teacher paycheck is all we have to live off of. And when the hell do we get the next disbursement of his student loans. Geez! He just bought $400 worth of books for his fall classes. Ouch! I just don't know if we're going to make it if one of us doesn't get another job. If you'd like to make a donation, email me here.

All this thinking is making my head hurt. I should go take a nap.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

She's (Not) A Lady!

Like I didn't know this:

You Are 28% Lady

You tend to make up your rules of etiquette, throwing all conventions aside.
And while you try to be a lady (sometimes), your behavior is often quite shocking.

I have NEVER claimed to be a lady. I don't sit with my legs crossed. I go as long as possible without shaving. I burp in public. And I base a tip for a waiter on whether s/he puts the bill in the middle of the table or not.
Knew this too:

You Are 30% Extrovert, 70% Introvert

You are quite reserved
You aren't afraid of social situations...
But you very much prefer to go it alone
And why not? You're your own best friend!

Duh. Now these are Blogthings I can get into.
And, just so ya know, my 1920's name is "Freda Blossom." I actually kind of like that. Maybe I'll get my name legally changed....

The Second Week of School

Dear God,
When you made me, why did I not get more patience? Did You, in your infinite wisdom and omnipotence, not know that I was going to teach middle school? Had you not had experience with the psyche of 13-year-olds? I just don't get it. I'm using small words to communicate with them. After all, "Shut UP!" is a short phrase with two small words in it. Why don't they understand what that means? They don't understand "Please. Be. Quiet." either. And heaven forbid I should use an entire sentence like, "Guys, I'm trying to teach here. Could you please quiet down?" It's like I'm not even there! You at least managed to help the administration see that 31 kids is too damn many in one classroom. Now there are only 26. While not a big improvement, I do thank You for that. Could you give me some guidance on where to go with these kids? Should I give them grammar quizzes every day? Should I give up?

Your humble servant with no more patience,
Mama C

PS- Lord, won't you buy me my own double-wide? Seriously. We're all out in those portables on the football field, waiting for the new school to be finished. There's plenty of room for another one for me, your faithful servant. Then I could have my own classroom, instead of borrowing other people's rooms all day. And I wouldn't have to share an office with the one who never shuts up, even when you ignore her. And I wouldn't have to run anywhere to grab the one thing I need that I always manage to forget - the textbook! Of course, I wouldn't get near as much exercise either. Maybe you have some strange, sick plan that may benefit me. I have to "float" because otherwise I wouldn't exercise. (Look, I'm a poet, and I didn't even think I was!)
PPS- In an unrelated thought, could you also get my husband to stop falling asleep on the couch, waking up in the middle of the night, and waking me up when he comes back to bed? Thanks a bunch!

Monday, August 14, 2006

I'm a Mermaid?

I followed a link from someone's post, can't remember whose now, and found this website where you can take all these quizzes about your personality. I thought, hey, I teach mythology, I should take the What Mythological Creature Are You? quiz. I must be, like, an Athena or something. All powerful. No. I'm a mermaid. I live in water. I swim. I wear seashells. I don't think so! Check it out. I think this one is crap. I'm going back to take the What Drug Are You? quiz.

You Are a Mermaid

You are a total daydreamer, and people tend to think you're flakier than you actually are.
While your head is often in the clouds, you'll always come back to earth to help someone in need.
Beyond being a caring person, you are also very intelligent and rational.
You understand the connections of the universe better than almost anyone else.

Chronicles of an Ass

Thanks to Sayre for reminding me to show my ass today. It's been such an overwhelming day that I almost forgot. So here it is... ta da!

Anyway, the important stuff to know:
Age: 31
Height: 5'3" (plus almost a half)
Weight: 159 as of this morning
Pants size: 12
Target pants size: 10

I know this is not a huge, lofty goal. But honestly, I was reading Losing a Hundredweight, and I was so inspired to eat healthy! I told my hubs all about it, and he agreed. This was, of course, after I'd gone to the grocery store in the rain with both kids. So, after it stopped raining, he went back to the store and bought some actual good-for-you stuff.

Our biggest problem now is that both our children are really small for their age. In the "less than 5%" in weight. They've always been that way, even back when I was breastfeeding. It's a fact of life. So, hubs and I are eating good, healthy, small portions, but we're trying to put weight on the kids. And face it, Doritos are going to put more weight on a kid than a bowl of strawberries for snack. So, we're giving them our stuff, but extra junk too. Like mac'n'cheese, which they love. Or, we make them mashed potatoes with whole milk. And they love cheese on EVERYTHING. We're fattening them up, a little bit at a time.

Saturday, August 12, 2006

The First Week of SChool

Oh-kay. So the name of the blog is no longer applicable, since my "vacation" is officially over now. But it will suffice for the next 9 months until the next "vacation" starts. I have now embarked on "My 8th Year of Teaching."

Ah, back to school time. The joy of mothers everywhere. Even before the official beginning, I knew that this year was going to be a doozy. There are just too many kids in my classes. And I don't mean that because I secretly hate my job and wish I could stay home with my sons. I mean there are really too many! In LATIN! Did someone forget to tell these kids that it is a dead language that no one speaks?! (oh, yeah. that was me. oops.) My largest class is weighing in at 31 darlings. And 8th graders no less. (Did I mention that I teach middle school??? Which means I'm certifiably crazy.) My second largest class has 29. Those are 6th graders. I have 147 children ages 11-13 that I see every. single. day. Can you imagine the migraine?

All week, I've been complaining to the head of my magnet program and the principal. No one has any suggestions on what to do. Why can't we hire another Latin teacher? No money for something so unimportant. It's not like it's a math class for stupid kids or something. That would certainly get some funding from the district. What's funny about that is, my class actually counts for high school credit. So we've got 31 "highly motivated" kids trying to learn a dead language and go to high school with a nice looking GPA. Riiiiiiight! What we actually have is a teacher losing her voice because she's yelling over 31 crazy teenagers! But finally, it took me, a certified crazy woman, to come up with a solution. See, there's another Latin teacher at our school. She has a class - THE SAME PERIOD- as my big class. Hmmm... anyone else see the possibilities here?

Can someone explain to me why the powers that be could not figure this out? Why someone with actual access to the numbers did not notice the disrepancy between 31 (me) and 7 (the other girl)? Why I had to suffer with 31 kids for four days? And why we would have to get parents permission to move their kid into a much smaller class? I, personally, would love my kid to be in a smaller class to learn a dead language. I mean, it's obvious. Right?

My other problem is with the parents of some 6th graders. I have two periods of the same class. One has 29 students, the other has 11. This is because we have two lunch periods. Some of the 29 kids originally were in the other class. But they couldn't have lunch with their friends. So their mommies and daddies called to complain. And they got moved. SO, these parents would rather have their little angel eat lunch with all their other snotty friends than get more individual attention from their teacher. Huh?

I just don't understand these parents. I understand that I teach in a magnet program at a school that NO ONE would choose to send their child to. I get that. But really people. It's not helping your kid much when it takes the teacher a month to learn their names because there's just too damn many kids in a classroom. It's also funny that my principal turns tail and runs every time a parent looks at him sideways. What a guy. I can't wait till the hub is done with Seminary and I can quit this gig for good.

As a side note, Colby's first week at big boy school went fine. No big, mean 5th graders beating him up. We did discover, however, that he will keep his mouth shut while walking down a hallway if you give him a marshmallow. Good to know.

Monday, August 07, 2006


Tomorrow is the first day of school. As a mom, I am totally excited about this. The kids will be out of the house, and I will finally have some quiet time. Well, I would if I were not also a teacher. See, when I send my two back to school and daycare, I'm getting everyone else's kids. It's like being a mommy - times 143! (I have really big classes this year.) So the mommy-ing never stops. I'm on all the time. I know it's in a different capacity during the school day, like I can't hug them or kiss their boo boos. But there is never a break. It can become a little wearing on a person. I get up, I mommy. I go to work, I mommy. I go home, I mommy. I think the only time I'm not actively mommy-ing is when I'm asleep. And notice I said "actively" there. I think I still mommy in my sleep, because I wake up every time someone coughs.

Another issue I'm having right now is that I'm sending off my oldest to "big boy school" for the first time. Yikes! I know it's only preK, so it's not like real school, but its housed in a regular elementary school. There are big 5th graders at this school! They could unduly influence or beat up my little not-quite-four-years-old angel! I just can't believe that he's old enough to go to school! It seems like just yesterday that he was cuddling at my breast and holding my finger in his teeny tiny little hand. That sweet, innocent little face all scrunched up... We all remember, right? He and I had an agreement: He would stay a little baby forever. And now he's going to big boy school. Can you tell that this is really bothering me? Is that normal? Do all moms feel this big ache in their hearts when their firstborn goes off to big boy school for the first time?

I'm probably just mental. It's been a rough couple of weeks around here. Luckily, my sister happens to teach at the same big boy school. She is literally across the hall and one door down from him. That does help to alleviate the fears. Besides, how can I be concerned about him, when I'm thinking about the 143 students I'm meeting tomorrow?! Oh, the joys of public school. And of being a popular Latin teacher. Ever heard those three words together: popular Latin teacher. Crazy!

Sunday, August 06, 2006

Will they be like me?

John and Shannon are fairly new to our church community. They've been visiting for about 6 weeks or so. They are super nice. Unfortunately, John's job has been "downsized" and they may have to move to Birmingham. Sad. So today, our Sunday school class (yes, we are all adults!) was talking about friendships. John was telling us about he's moved 21 times in his life (he's only in his late 30's) and how he's so good at adjusting and making new friends. But Shannon, he says, is less comfortable moving to a new place and making new friends. I knew I liked that woman.

I am painfully shy. When people have known me for a while, like the folks I sing with in Praise Team, they don't usually believe me when I say that. But it is true. I HATE meeting new people. I am so afraid of what they are going to think of me: my hair, makeup, clothes, shoes, etc. It's paralyzing! You can ask my husband, I don't even like running errands. Like, I make him go out and pick up pizzas or Chinese, because I don't like to deal with strangers. I have even been known to make him CALL to order the pizza, because I don't even want to have to TALK to new people on the phone. I know, it's weird. I know, I'm a grown woman. It's completely irrational, and I don't know really what to do about it. It seems even more strange when you consider the fact that I teach school for a living. I meet new people all the time. I have to call parents, meet them on PTO nights, work with people I don't know. Also strange that I am a
Mary Kay consultant, and am supposed to go out and meet new people. ("Supposed to" is the key word in that sentence.)

And now, I've signed up for a lifetime of moving and having to meet new people. My husband is in Seminary. That means he's studying to be an ordained minister. We are Methodist. This means, when he is done with school, some District Superintendent is going to assign him to a church. We get zero input. Then, probably every three to four years, he is going to get assigned to a new church. Forever! It's like a nightmare for me.

Here's my question: Will my children also have this irrational fear of strangers and aversion to making new friends? It took me about 1 and 1/2 years to make any friends once I moved here. I don't want that to happen to my boys. So far, at not-quite-4 and not-quite-2, they are very outgoing. Especially Bennett, my baby, who will go up to just about anyone and hug them around the legs. He knows no strangers. While that may end up not being such a great thing, right now it's cute. Anyway, will they stay this way? Or will they sit at home reading and avoiding the public, much like their mother does now? Oh, how I worry.

By the way, Colby is doing really well after his surgery. We went and picked out his new bookbag (
Ninja Turtles) and lunchbox (Disney's Cars) for school. He is so cute! I think he would wear the bookbag all day if we'd let him. If only he'd stay this enthusiastic about school forever!

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Warm Fuzzies

I know that I have been guilty of being a royal bitch recently. The temps here at home have been at 100 degrees every day for a week! You can't even walk to the car or mailbox without breaking a sweat. Therefore, I am really identifying with the Crazy Hip Blog Mamas idea here:

Show The Love Ladies!

Our dear
Pajama Mama has given her fellow bloggers a challenge. Spread warm fuzzies!
She is right. So often we are quick to criticize and place blame. I know it’s summer, and tempers are getting shorter as the temps go up….
She is christening the next few days “Bloggin’ Good Blogger Days”.
Your mission, should you choose to accept it (and you will), is to go to as many blogs as you can and point out at least one good thing about the author of that blog. Do your best to give them a warm fuzzy feeling. Show your appreciation, admiration or plain old joy.
Tell them why something they did touched you, why a choice they made shows the true fabric of their moral being. Just go BE NICE to every blogger who’s blog you read today. And don’t be shy, either!!
Plus, post an entry similar to this one on YOUR blog and ask people to leave warm fuzzies in your comments. Spread the love, people!
Maybe if we take a week to engage in warm fuzzies, they will become a more permanent part of our daily lives, both on and off the computer.

If it's your first time here, I don't mind. I'm a beginner at this whole blogging thing. I may not be great at it, yet, but I'm having a good time. And I've "met" a few really great women. Blog on, ladies! (and gentlemen)

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Visit Crazy Hip Blog Mamas

Please, somebody, help me! I would really like to add the image above to my sidebar. I can't figure out how to do it. Can someone shed some light on this problem. I'm a bit html impaired!