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.

Are You A Lady?

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!

Are You An Extrovert or An Introvert?

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!

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.

What Mythological Creature Are You?

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.

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.

Torn

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!

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!

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….
So….
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)

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!

A brief history

We received some good news about Colby's progress today. He has passed gas! In fact, he has also pooped! Only a mommy would get excited by either of these bodily functions. He has graduated to eating real foods (grilled cheese is real, right?), and they have discinnected his IV. That last bit is super good, because he HATED that thing. Of course, who really likes having a needle stuck in them, except drug addicts?

Anyway, This story really started about 3 years ago. I had stopped breastfeeding, as I had completely dried up. We switched him to formula, but he started becoming constipated. Our pediatrician tried everything she knew, then sent us to the local specialist. He felt Colby's belly, ran some blood tests, but could find nothing. Colby went on the first of 3 laxatives. We would go back to the specialist periodically, complain that the laxative wasn't working consistently, and they would tell us that we weren't feeding him the right foods. This happened for about 2 and a half years.

Finally, like any good mom, I was fed up! I asked our pediatrician to send us to another specialist. So, in January of this year, we were sent to Charleston for the first time. The new guy ordered the same blood tests, but also ordered a barium enema. That was something new and different, and completely unpleasant. I hope to never see one again! Either way, the results of the enema came back pretty conclusive: Colby has Hirschprung's Disease. A rectal biopsy later confirmed the diagnosis.

Hirschprung's Disease (HD) affects the nerve cells in the colon. Those cells are missing. So, he didn't know when he had to poop. Finally, the demon had a name. So, in April, we went in for a (first) colostomy. It was to help his intestines shrink back to normal size. Then, in June, we had the colostomy reversed and a pull-through surgery was performed. This removed the damaged part of his colon and reconnected the good part to his rectum. Yay! He was fixed!

Forward to now, there was an infection after the pull-though, which formed an abcess. Yuck. And of course, the best way to correct that? Another colostomy! So here we are. At least this time, we know what to expect. We've dealt with a colostomy before, and while unpleasant at times, we know what to do. I just hope everything heals quickly, and we can get him "normal" again. Healthy and happy. Healthy and happy. All I want for my little angel.

Unexpected Changes

So there it was, an ordinary day in the life of a mom. I took Colby to the doctor for a follow-up appointment. I told the doc how he'd been feeling bad and running a fever. So, the doc says, let's get a CT scan. Okay, no problem. We stayed in the hospital overnight. I expected that if they found something, it would be easy to remedy. Nope, nothing doing.

Instead, we're looking at another colostomy. For the next six months to a year. I thought we were done. I thought he would be "normal." That he would be able to go to school with the other kids. That he would potty train again. Nope.

All we ever want for our children is for them to be healthy and happy. Every parent says that: I don't care if it's a boy or a girl, as long as they're healthy. And here we are. He's my baby. All I want is for him to be healthy. Is that so much to ask?

Honestly, I'm a little angry, and sad, and hurt. I don't understand why God is allowing this to happen to Colby. I know, consiously, that God doesn't make people sick. And I know the He will use all things, good and bad, as part of His master plan. But I fail to see how this could possibly move toward a positive end result. If only there were some way to see into the future, to know how this is going to turn out.

I am Captain Caveman

“If I could be any superhero, I would be…” from the Crazy Hip Blog Mamas.

When I was a kid, one of my favorite shows was Captain Caveman and the Teen Angels. I loved Cavey. I thought he was cool. Nevermind his bushy hair, that dude rocked. I loved that he would do really quirky things in order to stop the bad guys/catch the monster/solve the case, and it alwasys worked. In my life, sometimes things work out when I do something quirky that doesn't quite make sense. For instance, sometimes, I just don't have the energy to take the dropped fruit snack away from my kid. And he's fine, mostly.
Cavey could fly! Now there's a power I would like to have. Just up, up and away! Imagine the view! Like in an airplane, only better.
That club he had was amazing. It helped him fly, sometimes, and stuff would pop out of the end of it. Usually, it was this little bird, which was kind of his sidekick. I believe that Cavey also used the club to beat on people. I would LOVE to have some sort of device with which to beat on people. Like my students, some of them anyway. At the very least, it had the cool stuff coming out the top. None of our bats at home have anything cool come out of them.
Also, Cavey had a posse before having a posse was cool. The "Teen Angels" were three cute girls who drove Cavey around in their van. How cool was he!?! They also assisted in the solving mysteries department. I have a husband. As wonderful as he is, he's not much help solving mysteries. Finding an errant sandal stuck under a couch cushion, yes. Solving mysteries like why my hair won't hold a curl, no.
But the best thing about Cavey was that he could pull any damn thing he wanted to out of his hair. Anything. He could get a piano, a tennis racket, a giant chicken leg, whatever! out from under that hair. It seemed like, whatever he was looking for, it was there, waiting for him. Sometimes, it took him a few pulls to get whatever it was, but it was always there. It would be so awesome to have a secret compartment that contained things that I really need on a day to day basis. And no, my purse does not really do the job. It's hard to carry one while still shlupping around a diaper bag.
In short, I don't want to be Superman. Saving the entire world is just too much pressure for me. I just want to be able to control my own little home. Also, having the power to set things/people on fire just by staring at them intensely would be bad for me. I think that Captain Caveman is right up my alley. Plus, it doesn't matter if you're having a bad hair day, because everyone knows there is something cool underneath.

You Gotta Love 'Em

Last night, we went to my mom's house to have dinner and celebrate my birthday. I knew it was going to be fun when Colby was whining and not wanting to pee before we left. And I was right! It really wasn't totally horrible. We had pizza (fun!) and cookies and ice cream. I guess now that I'm out of the house permanently and no longer a little kid, I shouldn't expect cake anymore. Or a dinner that requires utensils. Silly me! I guess I also shouldn't expect thoughtful gifts. I don't mind gift cards. Especially ones to places I frequent. Thanks, Sis. But just straight cash, because you don't know your daughter well enough to buy her a present. At least Dad and GiGi got me a bracelet to go along with the new haircut. Of course, cash and a card is still better than the NOTHING that my dear hubby got me. I'm still a little peeved about that. And, I must say, he has not made any motions like he's even going to get me anything at this point. I may as well just hang it up. How would he like it if I didn't get him something for HIS birthday?! Maybe we should do that! Of course I'd never do it. I love shopping too much, and I couldn't be that mean.

The evening did not end well, though. Colby kept on with the whining. He was laying in the back bedroom watching TV with my niece Madison and Nana. I go in to collect him, change his pullup, get him ready to go. He has peed through the pullup (at least he went), and is now soaked and feverish again. Great. And of course, my mom has to come in and start up with the "doesn't he need to see a doctor?" and "you should really talk to somebody about this". Well, duh! And of course she prefaced it all by saying "I'm not trying to tell you how to parent, but..." Yes you are! You always are! Every day, you have something to say about the way I raise my kids, because it's not exactly how you did it. Earlier in the evening, she got irritated because I wouldn't let her give Bennett pretzels after dinner. He had already eaten. He wasn't hungry. But she got all huffy anyway. "Why not? It won't hurt him." No, but it will teach him to eat all the time! Ugh! Why does she always have to question what I do? Why can't I just make a decision, as a mom, and have her support it? It's been almost 4 years of this.

Do our mothers ever really let us grow up?

Highlights

I bet that you think this is going to be about my fabulous hair. And it would be, if I could figure out how to add a picture to this post. Or if I even had a pic of the new, improved cut. But I don't, on either count. Instead, I'm going to talk about that thing that all mom's secretly love to do: changing diapers. I know, I've complained before, but I've just finished another round, and frankly I'm over it. It was the highlight of my day.

Colby had surgery to reverse a colostomy just over a month ago. His poops are erratic, explosive, and really gross. He's been such a little trooper. His butt is all red, sometimes bloody, from the frequent wiping. We have to wipe him with a washcloth, because wipes just irritate his skin. We have to apply anti-bacterial ointment plus a special cream. He has to wear a pullup all the time, because he really just never knows when the urge will strike. Sometimes, he thinks it's just gas, but there's something behind it. (Aren't you glad I shared?) Anyway, I'm so over this! I wish he could just go in the potty and have done with it. The kicker? If he's not potty-trained by Aug. 8, he will not be allowed to go to the fancy school child development center. We've already paid the deposit. We do NOT have a backup plan. I don't know how it would work, what we would do. I'm really stressing about this. It's the last thing I think about before falling asleep. Hell, it keeps me awake! I don't even know that this is registering on my husband's radar. He just thinks that everything will work itself out. Argh!

And we still haven't heard from the other daycare about Bennett's spot for this fall either. Wouldn't that just be a kick in the butt, if neither kid had a place to go when school starts. What would we do then? Would Weston take the semester off from school? I can't stay home, I'm the money-maker. Now my head hurts.

Home at last

Back sleeping in my own bed, which has never seemed so comfy. I wish I could say that it was a restful night's sleep, but it wasn't. Colby decided to come in twice. I don't know why the first time, I sent Weston after him. But the second time, he had peed through his pullups, all over his sheets. Fun. So, since Weston had a quiz in class today, I went and changed everything. It was exciting.

I have to be honest here. When I got home, it was kind of not as exciting as I'd hoped. Colby had whined the entire last half hour in the car, for no reason that he was willing to give. Bennett had woken up from a long nap, so he was jabbering about whatever. You can't really understand most of what he says yet. Either way, I guess I had strange expectations. Like a big hug for me, in addition to ones for the kids. Like maybe a present, wrapped, sitting on the table, since I WAS gone on my birthday. Instead, the kids totally hogged the hugs. I got a hug about 5 minutes after we actually got home. And there was a present, a lovely book, from the "kids". It was hidden under a stack of mail on the kitchen table, not wrapped. (He did manage to write a little note from the "kids" in it though. That was cute.) There was my new blender, already out of the box, sitting on the counter. It was from his parents. I knew it was coming, because they'd told him to go and pick it out for me. There was no present from my hubby. Nothing. When asked, he said that he hadn't had a chance to go get one. Um, hello! I've been gone for 13 days! An entire WEEK after my birthday. I'd even told him straight up what I wanted, and he couldn't even do that! To say I was disappointed is a major understatement. Of course, I haven't said anything. I know that he's been busy with class. But he managed to go to Holy Grounds, church, Salkehatchie twice! Guess those things are priorities for him, whereas I'm not. Do I sound like a totally bitchy wife? I'm kind of feeling that a bit today.

The kids and I went out and ran errands this morning. I took my broken charm bracelet (which I had asked Weston to fix for my bday) to get it fixed. I picked out a new charm for myself (which I had also asked him to do). We also went to the grocery store. I ordered pictures from our trip. And, finally, I got the boys' picture made! Portraits at last! The most recent picture we have of them together is from last Christmas. My parents will be thrilled! Anyway, now the kids are down for naps. I'd take one myself, except now I have to get ready to go back to work. School starts in about 3 weeks. I'm going in this week to meet with Rebecca to talk about reworking the currciulum for the 6th grade. How exciting. I hope that I can hold out 3 more years until Weston is done with seminary.

I've Learned

Okay, I learned some things last night. I decided to go out to a bar with my cousin Kat, her boyfriend and another friend. There are a few things I learned:

1. I cannot keep up with 24-year-olds in drinking. I had 2 beers. That's it. I felt like such an old lady. I guess that being a mother of 2, and having a full-time job, I've just gotten out of practice. I used to be able to down 5 or 6 in a night! That was long ago, alas.
2. I cannot stay up till midnight unless there is a sick child involved. I started fading about 30 minutes after we got there. I stuck it out like a pro though, and tried not to yawn too much. All I wanted was to go back to Grandma's and sleep.
3. I still don't like smoke. Ugh! The place was full of it. I just cannot understand why you would want to smell like that all the time. It's disgusting! And that's not even mention the horrible death that is coming down the road due to cancer.
4. I am good at darts. I don't know, maybe it was beginner's luck. I partnered up with Kat's boyfriend against her and her friend. He and I kicked butt! We beat them twice! I actually hit the dartboard and scored a lot of points. Too bad that most of the time, in order to play, you have to actually be at a bar. See points 2 and 3 above. Oh well.

It was a fun time though. It was nice to hang out with my "annoying, little cousin" who is neither annoying nor little anymore. She even hooked me up with a friend of hers for a haircut and color. I look really good now, if I do say so myself. And, as a side note, Kat's boyfriend thought I was their age -- 24!!! And I'm 31!! Yippee!

We're going back to AL today. Dad wants to get about halfway, then drive the other half tomorrow. I'm excited about watching the same 7 movies on the DVD that we watched on the way up here. Mental note: next time, make sure you bring more movies than you think you will need. It adds variety!

Here I am

The past two days have been such fun. Spending 8 hours in a van with my parents and my two children ON MY BIRTHDAY was not the best time. I mean, they were all fine, but it just isn't a typical celebration. Then Colby had a fit because we couldn't find a pizza place for dinner. Then Bennett had a fit because we didn't order him mac'n'cheese. Ugh! And I didn't even get a slice of cake or anything for dessert! Geez! The best part was that night. We stayed at a Hampton Inn, and the bed was just luxurious! AND I had 3 super soft, yet firm, pillows all to myself. It was nice. And even the shower was nice in the morning. Can't complain, especially since it was all free for me.

The next day, we were on the road for another 7 hours. I spent the time cross-stitching mostly. I know, what an old lady thing to do. But it doesn't require much thinking, and I'm all into that. We stopped at McD's for lunch, and neither of the children ate. We finally got to Greatgrandma's midafternoon. The kids immediately made friends with a couple of little kids from next door. It was nice to just sit outside and visit in the shade. Later in the evening, a couple of my aunts and uncles came over and we had some ice cream cake FOR ME! YAY! Finally, a birthday celebration! I even made some money, which was totally unexpected. It was nice to feel loved.

Once the kids went to bed, I got to hang out with my aunts and uncles. It's strange being here. When I walk into Greatgrandma's house, I immediately feel like I'm about 10. And hearing my dad being called "grandpa" in this house is really weird. All those years, MY grandpa was grandpa. He's been gone for 8 years now, almost, but I still can't get used to him not being here. It was also strange because I'm kind of in those middle years now. I'm an adult, technically, so I can have "meaningful conversation" with my aunts and uncles, but I'm not really the same generation as them. But the oldest of my cousins who was here, is only like 19. So I'm not really in the same generation as him either. In fact, my younger cousin is actually closer to Colby's age than he is to mine. That was a hard pill to swallow. So last night, I felt kind of in limbo. At least if Kat had been there, I would have had someone to hang out with. Maybe she'll come by today and make me feel more like I belong. I would also like someone cool to go shopping with. After all, that money is burning a hole in my pocket.

And I miss my hubby. I think he's lonely too, since he's been calling me about 6 times a day. I can't wait to go home on Sunday! I want to sleep through the night in my own bed.

My Birthday

Yippee! It's my birthday! I am now officially 31. And I'm spending the day on the road with my dad, stepmom, and two sons, driving from AL to IL. Happy birthday to me. Praying for sanity and safe driving. Wish me a happy birthday!

Crazy Hip Question

What movie/song best describes your life? Wow. The first movie that came to mind was that Drew Barrymore movie, where she goes back to high school. It's called "Never Been Kissed." She's the geeky girl newsreporter who's doing a story on high school, so she goes back. And then she becomes cool, and dates the hot guy, but ends up exposed and in love with her English teacher. But then I thought, it's not really me. I was (kind of) one of the cooler people. I had a lot of friends, was a cheerleader, had several boyfriends, made really good grades. Let's look at college. It definitely wasn't "Animal House." And it wasn't "Legally Blonde." I had a couple of really good girlfriends, and a lot of fun guy friends who lived downstairs. Then, after college, I met my future husband. (I have no movie reference for that, it just happened.) In fact, there's not a movie that describes my life. Maybe I should write one. Instead, I'd have to say that there's a book that I've loved for a long time. One character that I really identify with, and have for a long time. The book is Judy Blume's Summer Sisters. It's a "grown up" Judy Blume book, and I love it. My character is Victoria (Vix). I don't know why her. Her life and my life are nothing alike on the surface. I just really identify with her. The constant struggle to keep up with others. The emphasis on making things look right, even when they're not. Always feeling like you are in someone else's shadow. And no, there's been no one Caitlin in my life, just a shadow. Anyway, that's my book. I'll keep looking for a movie though. There's got to be one out there somewhere. And I'll drive my hubby crazy while looking for it. Ha!

This is vacation?

I can't believe that this is my vacation. I'm in southern AL, hanging out at my dad's, and I'M in charge of my kids. How is this a vacation? It's like being at home, only I can't go anywhere. My stepmom isn't even in town. And now, I'm looking forward to a two-day drive with my parents and my kids to IL. I must have lost my mind. I understand that people have a life, they have to work. But why invite someone to come visit, then not even be here. I'm not faulting her, apparently she already had bought the plane tickets, but she could have mentioned that. And Dad, well, a pastor's work is never done. Yippee, something to look forward to. We had fun at the zoo with the kids yesterday. It's always fun to take them to new places. And I played outside with them, something it's hard to do at home because of the heat. Colby always wants to play baseball. He loves to hit. And Bennett is content to do whatever. He's the most self-sufficient little guy ever! Just give him a car, truck, ball, empty cup, and he's happy for hours. Okay, I can't get the "enter" button to work, so I can't start new paragraphs. Strange. This is going to look really nice. Oh well. Guess I'll update when I get home. I almost wish we could just go home tomorrow, instead of going to IL. I miss my hubby. I know he misses us too. But I know I need to see Grandma, since she's starting to get really old. I'm not sure how many more times we'll be able to see her. I want the boys to be able to remember her with more than just pictures. So I guess I'll just suck it up and deal with being locked in a van with my parents and two little guys. Maybe I should find some drugs to knock me out. Oh, AND it's my birthday tomorrow. That should be a fun day! (Am I hiding the sarcasm?) And so help me God, if my mother calls again, and wants to talk to the boys, I am going to scream. I know that she loves her grandsons. I'm glad that she does. But they are NOT her children! They are mine! And they are on vacation. They are spending time with their grandfather, not her. She did this the last time they were away for more than two hours too. She can really drive me crazy. Oh well, Dora calls. I don't even think it's on, but what can you do. Maybe I'll take them back outside. That should at least keep them busy!