Not Quite What I Had Planned

We've moved!

2009-10-27T19:53:00.006-05:00

Yep, it's official now. Not Quite What I Had Planned has jumped ship and gone here.

I hope you'll mosey on over and join me.

PS. And if you've been kind enough to add me to your links over the years, or recently, or at any time in history, please make note of the new address and update your blogroll .... I don't want to lose any of you! www dot notquitewhatihadplanned dot com

Thanks!

Maybe Elvis has left the building???

2009-10-21T19:00:00.006-05:00

"AGH! Can you post the entire url, I cannot access the link you gave. :( "
>>>>>>>>>>>

Oh, ok.

Try here.

Or just go to www dot notquitewhatihadplanned dot com directly.

And then leave me a message letting me know it worked.

Because I haven't gotten a single comment since I made the switch.

Not one.

Even my most boring posts EVER usually warrant a comment or two, even if its to tell me how boring they are.

So either the new site is de-funct, or everyone hates it --- which would really suck for me.

Or maybe my mic is not working ... hello? Hello?

Is this thing on????

Updated to add:

"the site is working but there is not a comment section.....it says no comment in fact."

Well, what *should* happen is that you can click on "no comment" and then you get the opportunity to leave one. Then once one person does, it should say "1 comment" .... etc. Hopefully someone will leave a comment and we can see if its working properly! :)

Updated again to add:

"I sent you a comment yesterday and it told me that it was awaiting moderation.??????? Love the new site."

Oh. Em. Gee. I. AM. A. MORON!!!! I didn't even KNOW I had to approve the comments!!! Ha!

See, here's where I'll confess: my feelings were a teensy bit hurt that I didn't think anyone was going to the new site, or that no one even noticed I had changed things over. I kept thinking, "I know I've been neglecting the blogger site and not posting as regularly, but wow, people just dropped off like flies! I'm ready to start posting regularly again, and nobody even noticed???"

Now I go over and realize I have 23 comments waiting on me -------- how funny is that? How funny am I? And by "funny", I mean "incredibly stupid" :)

Well, excuse me, I'm off to approve some comments. :)

Ladies and Gentlemen, Elvis has left the building

2009-10-20T06:21:00.006-05:00

Well, I've got news. And I've got more news. And I've got hopeful news.

The Not Quite party has moved.

To here.

I sincerely hope you'll join me. And then bookmark the new site, and visit again.

Things I learned on Fall Break this year

2009-10-18T07:57:00.002-05:00

(In no particular order .....)

1. I am really friggin' out of shape.

1a. There are a lot of stairs at Great Wolf Lodge. Most of them go up, which is unfortunate for people who are really friggin' out of shape.

1b. Don't complain about lines to get on water slide rides, because that might be the only chance you get to catch your breath in between the exhausting treks up the stairs, over and over and over.

2. You should check to see if your swimsuit bottoms have a hole in them BEFORE you wear them on vacation.

3. The weight of four ("well-fed", in the words of one of my friends) adults on the Tornado makes an AWESOME difference in the amount of sweet air you catch in the funnel.

3a. Remind me next time I go to Great Wolf to only invite people who are much larger than me ..... its a tad embarrassing for the skinny-minnie lifeguard to place you in the "fat" seat in the tube each time, and put the tiny children on either side of you to "balance out the weight of the tube" ......... whatever.

4. If you get thirsty enough, you will drink regular Dr. Pepper instead of diet, and not even bat an eye at the extra calories, because you know you will burn them off on the stinking stairs.

5. After leaving Great Wolf Lodge, and driving to visit friends in Dallas ..... A friend who has two boxes of Milk Duds waiting on your pillow at her house, and a case of Diet Dr. Pepper in her fridge, is a true friend, indeed.

6. Texans take 7-yr old football very seriously.

7. 8-yr old, too.

8. But when your friend's sons both win their games, and the sun is shining and the temperature is perfect, it is an awesome way to watch a football game. And although I realize the coaches take it very seriously (and maybe some of the parents, too, I'm just saying) and I doubt they would agree with me, I still say at that age, "cute" is the appropriate adjective to describe the game. Although "undefeated" is a nice adjective, as well.

8a. Much better than being at the Cotton Bowl yesterday, anyway.

9. Don't kid yourself that "who cares what I look like on the drive home, it's not like I'm going to see anyone I know."

9a. When three young men stop you at a gas station on I-35 and comment on your sweatshirt, telling you that they graduated from the same high school, that will be cool.

9b. Then they will tell you that they graduated in 2004, and you will abruptly and hurtfully realize that you are older than dirt and be quite depressed about yourself for a while.

9c. Then you will eat the two boxes of Milk Duds and not be so depressed anymore.

10. Halogen headlights should be outlawed.

(I realize that number 10 kind of came out of nowhere, but my gosh, those things are obnoxious shining into your eyes on the highway ---- obnoxious!!)

11. "I Love You, Man!" is just as funny the second time around.

(Yeah, number 11 kind of came out of nowhere, too, but who doesn't love Paul Rudd?)

12. More than Paul Rudd, I love mini-vacations. How many days until Fall Break 2010? And who wants to join us at Great Wolf Lodge?

And you thought the melting of the polar ice caps was slow

2009-10-14T22:22:00.005-05:00

Blaine, the kids, and I, are happily ensconced in our room at the Great Wolf Lodge in Grapevine, Texas. This is our second annual "Fall Break at Great Wolf Extravaganza", and we've got five (six?) other families meeting us here tomorrow morning. We drove down the night before on purpose, so we could have a relaxing, soothing evening in the hotel and then hit the water park first thing in the morning. If your definition of "relaxing" involves me getting angry with my children in the parking lot because they didn't want to help schlep the suitcases into the hotel, then our evening has indeed been that.

Further inspection revealed they only sell diet Pepsi products at this hotel. Help me.

And, do you remember how slow the aol dial up of years gone by used to be? Like, dinosaur slow? Well, it appears the free wi-fi service provided by the hotel is run by a provider called "Stayonline", who is apparently the younger, slower, more frustrating step-cousin to aol dial up.

Connecting, logging on, loading this page, and sending this update has taken almost twenty minutes. I haven't been able to access my e-mail at all. I clicked "connect to webmail" and went to the bathroom to change into my pajamas and remove my makeup. When I returned, the page still had not loaded. It's almost enough to make me flash back to the days of "You've got mail!"

It's ok, though. Blaine didn't get to visit Great Wolf with us last year because he was having radiation, so tomorrow morning we have the fun of introducing him to the infamous "toilet bowl" slide. I will call my sister and beg her to bring me some Diet DP, we will spend all day playing, and all will be right with my world again.

At least until I try to get online tomorrow night. Then, if the service isn't any faster than today, I will quite possibly have a stroke.

SPT October 13

2009-10-13T16:24:00.006-05:00

Continuing in my October Self-Portrait Challenge Theme of "4 Random Things About Me" ..... I present Random Item #2:

Of all the places Blaine and I have ever been stationed, the one I loved most, and would most consider returning to, was Ohio. In fact, Blaine and I agree that if we didn't have family here in OKC, then Ohio is the place we would most likely have retired.

Reasons?

It is the farthest northeast we have ever lived, and therefore was the most beautiful during fall, my favorite time of year.

It is the place we lived when our children were babies (and one was even born there, becoming a Buckeye for life!) and had pinchy-squeezable cheeks and I was still the boss of their social schedule. The three years we spent there were an enormously happy time in our lives. (and hey, no one in my family had cancer yet!)

Hands down, it had more family friendly activities (farms, pumpkin patches, public parks, festivals, etc) than any other place we have ever lived.

It was the most similar to OKC, so we felt at home there.

And most importantly, for this reason:

(please ignore the fact that they are all dressed and I am still in my pajama bottoms. It was perhaps not my most productive weekend ever .....)

Some of the best girlfriends in the entire world, most of whom I met in my mother's club, while living in Ohio. They supported me in my "young mother" days, introduced me to scrapbooking, and became the best adult-women friends I have ever had. Almost all are military wives; almost all have since scattered to the wind since our time there, like me. We have been meeting, all over the country, to scrapbook together, since the year 2000. We laugh, we talk, we eat chocolate, and we make the most killer amaretto slushies you have ever tasted in your life. Our friendships extend beyond scrapbooking. We care about each other's marriages, children, and families. We watch each other's kids grow up through pictures and stories. We e-mail, we call. We share news; we ask advice. We vacation together. Two of us were unable to attend this year ...... the rest of us were sad.

I am beyond blessed to be a part of this amazing group of women.

And this year, our annual get-together was in Ohio. Really, could I ask for any better?

Panorama

2009-10-09T08:35:00.013-05:00

Different people, I believe, are touched and comforted by different panoramas. Have a space down deep in their soul where calm and peace are available, based on what the eye can see, and what is soothing to their psyche.

Some people enjoy an ocean view ..... some people love snow-capped mountains. For others, a city scape is what makes them happy.

Me? It's farmland. I LOVE the rolling pastures; miles and miles and miles of wheat and hay bales and hard amber duram, as far as the eye can see. White farmhouses, red barns, grain silos. Throw in some horses, or cows, and I'm even happier. I can BREATHE when I can see for miles; I feel calm; it is soothing to me .... the midwest* makes me happy.

That's why I was so excited for my drive to Ohio yesterday. Eight hundred and sixty five miles of farms and ranches and pumpkin patches and corn fields. Even better is this time of year, with the turning leaves and beautiful red wildflowers (weeds?) on the side of the highway. I was ECSTATIC to make the drive yesterday and enjoy the bucolic farmland and rolling plains and open-ness. I love that view. Love it so much that in my next life,** I want to come back as a farmer's wife,*** and sit on the porch and drink coffee **** and soak in the beauty.

Guess what? On my drive to Ohio yesterday, I didn't see a single thing. Because it RAINED the entire 865 miles. The entire drive, there was never a moment that my windshield wipers were not on. Sometimes intermittently, for drizzle, and sometimes for a steady rain. And for about four hours of white-knuckle, torrential blinding downpour. I could barely see to stay in the highway, let alone enjoy the beautiful fall view out the window. And the bad weather, and slower driving speeds, stretched the drive out to almost fifteen hours. Fifteen hours of rain.

Quite frankly, I felt cheated.

I guess the good part of the day was the fact it was still fifteen hours of listening to the music **I** wanted to listen to (guilty pleasures -- Meatloaf, Bowling for Soup, Caroline's Spine ....) and only stopping according to my own potty break needs, and not listening to anyone whine for snacks, or argue in the backseat.

So yeah, despite the rain, it was still a good drive.

But I *am* hoping for sunny weather on the way back home. I have some corn fields and horse pastures to gaze over.

*Why is it called the mid-west? Does anyone know? Oklahoma is not "west" of half the country, why is it not called mid-mid? And Indiana and Illinois and Missouri and Ohio are less "west" than that. Is it because it is west of the Mississippi River? Because before the western part of the country was settled, and before California actually became a state, we were west at the time? Can anyone answer? Because honestly, these are the questions that keep me up at night.

**For the record, I don't really believe in a next life. But if I DID, I would want to come back as a farmer's wife.

***You know what? Scratch that. Wouldn't I have to work really hard as a farmer's wife? Churning butter, and tilling vegetables, and washing our clothes out in the stream? That's way too much work. I think I've decided that in my next life I would rather come back as a very wealthy person, and I could just BUY farmland and pay incredibly good looking men to work shirtless, churning my butter for me.

****I don't actually drink coffee. But if I had enough good looking shirtless men working for me, I could sit on the porch and drink me an eyeful of THAT.

Clearly I cannot tell teim (or spell)

2009-10-07T12:25:00.006-05:00

According to Facebook, my site is "down for maintenance, and should be available again in a few hours." Facebook is "sorry for any inconvenience this has caused."

That note has been on my Facebook page since last Sunday. It is now Wednesday. According to MY mental math, that is way more than "a few hours." Facebook is also "aware of this problem and our technical team is working hard to correct it."

You would think, since I cannot waste as much time farting around on Facebook like I normally do, that I would be getting tons more stuff done around the house. Which would be a good thing, since I am leaving at 5am for a five-day scrapbooking retreat in Ohio. (Hello, beautiful autumn colors, I cannot wait to see you again .....)

But, no. Instead I am obsessively checking my computer, possibly even more than normal, to see if Facebook is "fixed" yet. Because I cannot bear that the lives of my "friends" are going on as usual and I do not know what they are doing. (Nosy, much? Why yes I am.) Thank goodness I don't play farmtown or mafia wars, because at this point my crops would have withered and died and my mafia gangsters would have .... would have .... well, whatever abandoned mafia gangters do.

Facebook, come back to me. Or at least teach me how you tell time, so I can know when "a few hours" will be.

SPT October 6

2009-10-06T22:12:00.010-05:00

Continuing on with Lelly's Self-Portrait Challenges, the month of October is dedicated to "100 Things About Me." Well, not about Lelly, of course, but about ME. And the "100 Things About Me" list that I am supposed to have completed, and to have posted on my sidebar, because everyone knows that every blogger on the planet is required to have completed the list, and posted it on their sidebar --- pretty much everyone already has. In fact, I think it's probably a law by now.

Thankfully, however, not an enforceable law, because I alone am the solitary blogger in the world who has NOT completed my "100 Things About Me" list and posted it for all of you to read. (Um, yeah, note to self: "alone" means pretty much the same thing as "solitary", so you're kind of just rambling now ..... Maybe that could be thing #1: I don't make much sense when I speak.)

Quite frankly, I'm not sure I could come up with 100 Things About Me. I know for an indisputable FACT that I couldn't come up with 100 interesting things .....

So instead, for the four Tuesdays in the month of October, I'll give you Four Random Things according to what I've done recently.

Week #1:

One random fact about me: I have an almost pathological devotion to certain sentimental things ..... and some things, not. My wedding dress? Sold it just a few months after the wedding because I would rather have the cash. My kids' artwork? Some, I keep. But most, especially if it has any kind of paint or glitter or macaroni or shell or bead or feather or any kind of 3-D crap on it .... in the trash it goes. Old toys and clothes? Gone. I don't normally even have enough stuff to have a garage sale because I pass it on to Goodwill too quickly.

The few things I keep ... pictures, of course, hence my obsession with scrapbooking. Books that I love. I have a hard time getting rid of books that I know I will be willing to read again. Old calendars. Just seems a shame to throw out a yearly account of our life as a family.

And, I'm extremely sentimental when it comes to my hometown, memories, traditions, and old friends.

This photo was taken last weekend at our high school homecoming football game. Since it was also my 25th class reunion year, a few of us from our class met up at the stadium to watch the game together.

I am one of the obnoxious people who actually enjoyed her teenage years. Because I loved school. In large part, because of the people you see in this photo. Many others, who also mean a great deal to me, couldn't make it, of course. But in this photo .....

I see Michele, my first ever "best friend". My next door neighbor when we were in elementary school, classmate for twelve years, fellow band and Drill Team member. And still one of the ones I look forward to seeing most because she is silly and goofy and makes me laugh the entire time I am with her.

I see Jani, another friend since kindergarten. We played french horn together for years, and were also in Drill Team together. Jani is one of the few people who kept in touch with me (remember, this was in the days before cell phones or e-mail) the entire time I was moving around the country with Blaine. And now she lives three blocks away from me and our girls go to school together, and are themselves developing a friendship that I dearly hope they will cherish as much as I cherish mine with Jani.

I see Lisa, yet another friend I went to school with from kindergarten on. Head cheerleader, star athlete, brainiac .... and used to be, a little intimidating to me. As adults, I've gotten to know her better than when we were young, and realized I was silly to be so intimidated. Not because she wasn't all of those things -- she was -- just that she is also kind and honest and funny, as well.

I see Marla, my comrade in arms in junior high. Who knows how many hours she and I spent on the telephone in junior high??? Her family took me on vacation, and for several years I considered her house my home away from home. We discovered boys about the same time (although truthfully, boys discovered her way before they discovered me!) and now our kids go to school together --- Kendrie even played soccer on her daughter's team the first year we moved back here. I don't spend as much time with Marla as I would like now, and I miss her.

I see Carla and Mary and Jerry, more friends from high school ....

I see Louis --- well, no explanation needed for Louis, who I've known since the sixth grade, and who has been one of my best friends for over 25 years. Many a lunch break, and many a phone call, has been spent catching up on each other's news and lives; many a Sonic drink was consumed in high school, trying to decipher the teenage relationships around us; and many an Amaretto Sour has been shared as adults, for no other reason than we enjoy one another's company more than just about anyone else on the planet. (Oh, wait, I just explained him anyway, didn't I?)

I am sentimental when it comes to these relationships .... in a fierce, almost possessive way. And I probably don't tell these people as often as I should how I feel about them, but make no mistake .... I am grateful. Sentimental and grateful, at the same time.

Updates

2009-10-04T20:51:00.010-05:00

1. Big changes coming. Thanks to people willing to help (shout out to Scott in Utah!) and the beauty of independent web design ......

2. Honest mistake on the credit card. I had put the wrong card in the ATM machine and when I entered the {wrong} pin number, it flagged my account as suspicious. I appreciate the vigilance of my credit card company, but it would have been good to know I had been flagged, and deemed unable to use my card, **BEFORE** I was standing in the check out line of the commissary with $690 in groceries. That's all I'm saying.

3. The contractor never showed on Thursday. Two thumbs down. But he called on Friday and apologized, and said he would start on Saturday. Two thumbs up. He never showed up on Saturday. Two thumbs down. But he called on Saturday night and apologized and said he would start on Monday. I'll wait until tomorrow morning to see if I should give another two thumbs up. Or not.

4. Camera started working again just as mysteriously as it quit working. Bizarre. Frustrating. Worrisome. I am helping to photograph the 2nd annual "Go, Mitch, Go" Golf Tournament Fundraiser tomorrow and it will be BEYOND embarrassing if my auto-focus simply quits in the middle of the tournament.

And in other news .....

5. I was able to spend some of this weekend scrapbooking with a group of ladies at a local church. It was a lot of fun and there was chocolate and all was well. I stayed up until 2:30 am organizing my photos, in preparation for my annual get-away this upcoming weekend, and then realized the only place left to sleep was in the sanctuary. On a pew. And my body is wider than a church pew, I discovered. So if sleeping in the sanctuary, on a pew, during a scrapbooking getaway, isn't sacrilegious enough, I'm pretty sure cursing when you get a cramp in your leg at 4am is.

UPDATED TO ADD:

6. "Account Unavailable
Your account is temporarily unavailable due to site maintenance. It should be available again within a few hours. We apologize for the inconvenience." .... the status of my Facebook account. Going on 24 hours now. Clearly, *my* definition of "a few hours" is not the same as Facebook's definition!

A freakin' awesome day

2009-10-01T23:27:00.003-05:00

1. I made it as far as step ONE in fixing my blog before running into a glitch and having to ask for more help.

2. My credit card was declined at the grocery store today.

3. The contractor cashed our $1000.00 deposit check and then never showed up to work today, nor did anyone in his office answer the phone all day, nor did anyone return our calls.

4. Half-way through Kellen's football game tonight, the auto-focus on my camera quit working.

So, you got anything? Anything at all you'd like to throw at me? Locusts? Famine? Plague? Because really, the mood I'm in, I can take it.

Bring it on.

Still ...

2009-09-30T06:25:00.007-05:00

PS. If you have a second, send up a positive thought for Blaine this afternoon. He's going in for a root canal on a tooth ..... in a location that the dentist told him previously "they could never get to, in a million years". He can't open his mouth wide enough due to scar tissue and radiation for them to reach this tooth easily, and short of the doctor using a crow bar and dynomite, we're a little curious how they're going to make it happen. Promises to be a fun day in the dentist's chair for Blaine!

********************************************

Still cutting.

Still pasting.

Still dragging archived links and photos over.

Still working up my nerve to attempt this fancy search and replace script that one of my readers was kind enough to ~~force~~ her computer-savvy husband to write for me .... (I feel pretty special about it, to be honest)

Thanks for not giving up on me ...

In the meantime, if you're just dying for something to read (which I highly doubt, what with, you know, you guys have LIVES and everything ....) here is an old update of mine that will, at the very least, give you something to pass the time for ten minutes ...

Long Lost Art of Letter Writing (at least how it applies to Kendrie on treatment ...)

Lunch, anyone?

2009-09-28T02:14:00.000-05:00

Sept. 28 is a good day to head to Chili’s and have a margarita, some fajitas and maybe even some molten chocolate cake.

That’s because Chili’s restaurants across the U.S. will donate 100% of their Monday profits to St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. The date is also the culmination of Chili’s Create-A-Pepper to Fight Childhood Cancer campaign, which runs through the month of September.

Chili’s has raised more than $25 million so far in its 10-year, $50 million pledge to the research hospital. The donation will be the largest from a single partner campaign in St. Jude’s history. The 2008 campaign raised more than $6 million for St. Jude.

Throughout September, Chili’s patrons design chili pepper coloring sheets for display at restaurants; buy T-shirts and customized keys; and make online donations. The program started in Memphis in 2002 with seven Memphis-area Chili’s, but the chain took the promotion nationwide in 2004.

Chili's and St. Jude opened the Chili's Care Center, a seven-floor, 340,000-square-foot facility, in 2007. It is the first medical building on the St. Jude campus to bear the name of a corporate partner. Chili's is the flagship brand of Dallas-based Brinker International (NYSE: EAT).

Based in Memphis, St. Jude Children's Research Hospital is a leading pediatric treatment and research facility focused on children's catastrophic diseases. It employs about 3,300 in Memphis.

So very cool

2009-09-26T00:26:00.003-05:00

I'm sure it will be her favorite of all time:

Purple Rock and Roll.

Well said

2009-09-25T05:44:00.004-05:00

Extremely well-written .....

The Savages

I would comment more, but I'm too busy cutting and pasting.

Sacrifice the limb to save the life

2009-09-22T22:29:00.008-05:00

I'm going to be MIA around here for the next week or so.

I received a reminder yesterday that due to my old photo storage site shutting down, the first five year's worth of my journal entries will become the internet equivalent of a boat anchor in about four weeks. That's when the storage site (that I have faithfully paid for, every single month, since November of 2003, not that I'm freaking BITTER or anything) is being shut down and all my photos along with it.

I thought I had dodged this bullet by upgrading my storage site, but I found out this week I had not.

The photos have actually been saved, but they will disappear from my blog forever if I don't manually change the url addresses of almost two thousand photos ... one by one .... by hand .... individually .... manually .... yes, I know you know what the word "manually" means, but I feel the need to drive home the point. Do I really want to spend several hundred hours poring through my archives and changing each address? No, no I do not.

So at this point, I feel my options are threefold:

1) Accept that the blog entries themselves aren't going anywhere and learn to live with almost two thousand little red x's, where the photos for the last five years should be.

2) Accept that this blog has run its course, do nothing, and shut down the site. Then spend the time I normally spend writing here doing other things (Blaine: "Kristie, let me introduce you to the vacuum cleaner!" .... and relieving myself of the anxiety I feel when I have nothing to blog about.

3) Accept that I need to be a little more proactive about transferring my content over to a site of my own before it is all deleted. This is the option I am most seriously considering, but I have to get all my ducks in a row, so to speak, before I can move forward with this plan.

So excuse me while I spend the next few days (FINALLY! This is what I get for procrastinating .....) transferring the remainder of my blog archives over from Caringbridge. And hope that the web design team I'm consulted can really and truly save everything as easily (although not cheap ...) as they say they can.

I don't want to quit blogging. I enjoy doing this. I consider it my personal journal and love the fact my children's childhoods are being documented in this way.

But I have to be realistic about the time and money I'm willing to put into this. This is not a business blog or a blog for money or a blog for ads or a blog that really accomplishes anything besides for my own pleasure .... its just my silly little personal blog. For now, I'm sacrificing the limb (updating for the next week or two) in the hopes I can save the life of the blog.

Please excuse the absence.

I can tell a lot of time and thought went into this

2009-09-21T10:19:00.001-05:00

Kellen: "Mom, for Halloween, I need you to get me a belt and a sword."

Kristie: "Um, ok. What are you going to be?"

Kellen: "A dude with a belt and a sword!"

It is done. And I feel better now.

2009-09-19T08:34:00.006-05:00

We attended our high school's first home football game of the season last night. It was a fun night, seeing old friends, cheering for our team .... they had a Hall of Honor presentation ... fireworks .... Brayden sang in the school-wide choir .... marching band ..... marching band ........ marching band .......

With the new "band instructor helper person" there ...... who caused me a knot in my stomach every time I looked over at him. I think this is a perfect example of karma, and how what goes around will usually come right back around and bite you on the butt.

After the band finished up the national anthem before the game, he was standing by himself in the band section of the stadium, a mere fifty feet from me. And I could easily have avoided him, ignored him, just gone on my merry way. But, he was like a shiny distraction, in the corner of my eye, and I couldn't get past it. I kept looking over, wondering, "Would he recognize me? Would he even remember me? Would he remember what a jerk I was to him?"

Have you ever walked around town with a stain on the boob of your shirt, and it bothers you? Even though nobody else notices, and nobody else cares, it's all you can think about? And you can't even concentrate while you're having a conversation with someone because all you can think about is the giant stain on your boob and how you're wondering if they're noticing but they're just too polite to say anything and in the meantime you're missing the entire conversation because you keep telling yourself nobody cares but you know and YOU care and its soooooo uber-distracting????

Yeah. It was EXACTLY like that. Only not at all.

Finally I gave up, and walked over to him. Held out my hand, re-introduced myself, apologized for being such a jerk (also known in many circles as "immature, self-absorbed teenager") in high school, and told him I was happy he would (possibly ... clearly, the plans for his place at the school are not my business) would be teaching my son in beginner's band.

He looked at me, smiled, and hugged me. We chatted for a few minutes.

He was so much more gracious than I ever would have been.

Thank you GOD that it is done, and I can move on without being embarrassed to run into him again. Because its highly likely, and (repeat after me) I just LOVE living in a small town!

Because I am the best football mom EVER!!

2009-09-17T23:25:00.005-05:00

I am so proud of my son.

Here he is, catching a pass to make a two-point conversion in tonight's game:

It's really a shame not all boys are as lucky, to have a parent like me, to take such awesome photos of their accomplishments. Truly, have you ever seen such wonderful photography skills????

No, I didn't think so.

On second thought, that might be my son. Or it might not. It's so blurry, who would know?

Can anyone even tell??

No, I didn't think so.

"I think it would be cool to learn an instrument"

2009-09-16T05:59:00.008-05:00

Updated to add: Jeanette, you're right ... I don't even let my kids drink out of public water fountains, so the thought of them sharing a mouthpiece on a rental instrument makes my heart stop. :)

Its a brand new instrument, on a rent-to-own basis. Kellen is the only person who plays it; he carries it to and from the school each day. Which is a bit of a hassle since we walk, but maybe the money we save on gas can go towards the saxophone ... who knew they were so expensive??? I shudder to think what bigger instruments must cost!
***************************************************

I'm not sure if I mentioned previously, but Kellen quit piano after a year and a half of lessons.

It liked to have killed me.

Not because I think he was any kind of prodigy, but because, as you might remember from when I blogged about it here, music was such a big part of my life growing up, and then I quit, and have regretted it ever since.

I played for seven years before quitting, and Kellen had only been at it a year and a half, but I know that at some point, at some time in the future, he will regret it too.

Typically, like thousands of parents before me, I got tired of the "practice or else!" routine. I tried reason, I tried begging, I tried demanding, I tried bribing. Nothing worked.

What bothered me even more is that Kellen actually loved playing the piano, and would have happily continued lessons as long as I would have let him .... he just balked at practicing. So I balked at paying for the lessons. Clearly, a lose-lose situation, so after several months of fussing and arguing, we agreed he could quit after the spring recital last May.

Kendrie is plugging along, but is also starting to be pretty lax about practicing, which discourages me. But again, the choice is hers --- if she wants to continue lessons, she has to do her part, which is the homework.

Anyway!!

Last May, shortly after Kellen quit piano, he brought home the "elective" form for middle school this year. He had already filled it out with the classes he was interested in taking and needed me to sign it so he could turn it back in.

Although I have talked to the kids about my experiences in junior high and high school band, and how much I loved it, until this happened, I was still surprised to see that he had selected Beginners Band.

"Really?" I asked, "You want to take band?"

"Well, yeah," Kellen replied, "I think it would be cool to learn an instrument."

WHAT THE HELL WAS THE PIANO?????!!??

Deep down, I'll admit, I was thrilled. Maybe he really loves music, and piano just wasn't his gig. Hopefully the year and a half he took lessons will give him a wee bit of a foundation for band. If we're lucky, it will be a great group of kids, with a great director, and this will be the beginning of a wonderful, lengthy hobby/skill/talent.

Or, maybe he'll quit after one year, and all that instrument rental money will be in the toilet, who knows?

But school started, and band started, and so far, so good.

I had gone in on "Instrument Rental" night and met the director. I mentioned to him that I had played in this same school band twenty-five years ago ....

He knows my old director, the one that I loved so much.

I got excited, talking to the current director. He seems like a nice guy, and I started imagining Kellen doing the same things I did so many years ago, in the same band, and loving it as much as I did.

I imagined him practicing on the same football field, and marching in the same stadium. I imagined him having early morning practices, just like I did. I imagined him marching up and down the streets of our small town, just like I did.

Man, I LOVE living in a small town!!!!

Every day after school I ask Kellen "how was band today?" and the first two weeks of school, he had a good report every day. Then apparently the director had an illness in his family, then had some health issues himself, and missed quite a bit of school. Kellen started saying, "We had a sub" way more than I liked, and a few days were "free time" to read or visit or whatever. I understand these things happen, but I couldn't help but hope something would change. I want Kellen to love band just as much as I did ....

Then, Kellen came home last week and said, "We had a new sub today who knows a lot about music. He's going to be a sort of helper for us."

And I thought, "Oh, good! I'm glad to hear that!"

"How did it go? Did you like the helper?" I asked.

"Yeah. In fact, he said he used to teach at this school and he might know you." Kellen stated.

"He might know ME???" I asked, wondering who on earth ............

"Well, that he might know some of our parents, if any of our parents were in the band ...."

I sat for a minute, thinking ....

Wondering .....

Realizing ......

Aaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwww, no. HECK, no.

Yep, it was the same director who took over for my beloved director when I was in high school. The director who I was such a little obnoxious shit towards, and am ashamed to this day of how I treated him. I have not spoken to him since high school, but have oftentimes envisioned the apology I will make if I ever encounter him again.

Looks like I just might get my chance.

Man, I HATE living in a small town.

SPT September 15

2009-09-15T12:11:00.007-05:00

Lelly's Self-Portrait Tuesday Challenges for the month of September (2008) are following a "Because of a Blogger ..." theme. Last week I featured Lori of "I Can Be Right, Or I Can Be Happy" and how because of her, I was able to spend a great mother-daughter Breakaway weekend with Brayden at the end of the summer.

This week's "Because of a Blogger ..." actually comes full circle, and highlights the very blogger who introduced me to the SPT Challenge. In fact, this week's SPT is in a sense, a follow-up to one of the first SPT challenges I ever posted, which was to highlight myself doing something that I love.

I posted an entry about how much I love to scrapbook, but "wah, wah, wah, I'm so sad because I don't have any scrapbook friends here in OKC, my life is pitiful ..... world's tiniest violin .... " blah blah blah

And my {quasi-new} friend Alisa from "That's Life, Enjoy It" promptly left me a comment, and then promptly got off the computer, walked over to her phone, and called me to tell me we should scrapbook together.

I barely knew Alisa at that stage, but she, too, had fallen off the scrapbook wagon and was looking to get back on. And then she mentioned Lori also scrapbooks ....

and our little scrapbooking tri-fecta was born.

We've been meeting monthly for evening crops, and I've been enjoying myself immensely. I'm grateful for their new{ish} friendships .... (since we've been scrapping for eight months now, I guess they are no longer new-friends, but just friend-friends, right?) We eat, we chat, we get better acquainted, we discuss our girls, who are all in the same grade at school, we eat some more, and we scrapbook.

Thanks to Lori and Alisa, I was even confident enough to help the girls at our Breakaway Weekend make Friendship albums for themselves:

(and yes, that is my thumb in the photo, holding the album, so it is there TOO a self-portrait!)

We've had probably a half dozen other moms and ladies either join us for a month or two, or talk about joining us. But they don't. Not because we're obnoxious or we stink or our food is bad (at least I hope that's none of it!) but because we all have a tendency to get sidetracked and busy with this thing called LIFE.

But guess what? Life doesn't slow down specifically so you can do the things you enjoy.

Merry Maids isn't going to call me and offer to clean my house so I can scrapbook.

My kids aren't going to offer to cook dinner, or drive themselves to football practice or soccer practice or choir practice, so I can scrapbook.

The principal of the elementary school isn't going to tell me not to volunteer so I will have more time for scrapbooking.

The errands won't run themselves, the laundry won't do itself, the shopping won't buy itself, and the blog entries won't write themselves.

I'm grateful that "Because of ..." Alisa, who picked up the phone and called me, and then called Lori, that I was able to scrapbook once again. To remember that its not only important, but OK, to make time for the hobby I love.

Bonus points is making new, really cool friends while I do it.

Only me, people ... only me

2009-09-14T09:16:00.000-05:00

Every year around the time school starts, I schedule my yearly physical. It's always such a fun time, sitting on that table, butt naked (except for socks because you know darn good and well I'm not walking around in that office barefoot -- that's disgusting) wrapped in a paper vest and drape, both the size of mini-napkins, neither of which adequately cover the area they are supposed to, waiting on some person I've never seen before to violate my private parts in the name of medicine.

Well, not really. It's not that bad. It's certainly not something I look forward to, like the funnel cakes at the State Fair each year, but also not something I dread, as much as I dread the dentist (which I have to do TWICE a year, man, that really blows.)

Because we live far enough away from the military base, I see a civilian doctor. In fact, I am a patient at a family practice clinic that is overseen by medical doctors, but which is run primarily by residents. They rotate in every year and only stay twelve months, doing a "residency" or "internship" or whatever on earth its called.

Since I'm lucky enough not to have any chronic conditions, and I haven't been sick in a long time, I've only been to this clinic twice before, for my two previous annual physicals. Both times I saw a different doctor and I get notices at least once a year that my primary care doctor is changing ... in fact, I don't even pay attention to the name anymore. I figure if and when I call for an appointment, they'll know who I'm supposed to see, and quite frankly, as far as my own healthcare is concerned, I have no physician loyalty. Just get me an appointment with somebody -- anybody -- and I'm happy.

So I went last week for my annual physical. Blood pressure check, pulse check, weight (ouch!) etc .... the nurse was entering all my information into the computer, asking if I had any problems, had my health changed, what kind of medication was I on ... etc. You all know the drill.

Then she looked at the computer screen, glanced at my chart, and said to me, "I see you've never had a pap smear done at our facility. Do you need to have one today?"

And I paused ..... "Are you sure? I'm pretty sure I've had one here."

She looked again, then looked closer, "No, there's no record of a pap smear here anywhere. Not in your chart OR in the computer."

I sat for a second, stymied. Yeah, granted, I don't go to the doctor very often, but I am pretty vigilant about the yearly exams I need to get like this one.

Then I said, "No, I know I had one here. In fact, I'm positive. I remember because the doctor who saw me last year was SO NERVOUS when he did it! His hands were shaking, and he was sweating like crazy. I remember thinking I must have been his first pap smear ever! In fact, I almost felt sorry for the guy, he was so nervous about doing it."

"OK," said the nurse. "I'll go and check in our lab archives. If you had it, it will be there. Just wait a second while I go see, and the doctor will be in to see you in just a minute ...."

(Famous last words, right, before you sit there, covered by napkins, for another half hour .... hence the reason I always take a book into the room with me. I might be sitting there cold and naked, but by golly, my mind will be occupied!)

Sure enough, just a few minutes later, the doctor walked in.

The same doctor as last time.

And he turned to me, shook my hand, and said, "The nurse said you said I was really nervous last time. I'm sorry. I promise you I've done a lot of pap smears since then so it will be fine today."

I. LIKE. TO. HAVE. DIED.

The nurse wound up finding my pap smear results from last time, so that was good. Because it's extremely difficult to stick your foot in your mouth when they're in the stirrups.

You guys rock. No, seriously. You do.

2009-09-12T07:22:00.003-05:00

As I mentioned in a previous post, September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Specifically, today, Sept 12th, is Childhood Cancer Awareness Day.

As you might recall, last week for Kendrie's birthday I asked anyone who was able to donate ten for ten to CURE Childhood Cancer --- $10 for her 10th birthday, to celebrate her recovery from cancer, and to help fund research for improvements in pediatric cancer treatments .... always with an eye towards a cure, of course.

A few days ago, I received this e-mail, from Jann Jones of CURE:

"Good afternoon:

The donations are coming in and I would love to know the story. We feature “why people give” stories in our blog and on our Facebook page and I would love to hear Kendrie’s birthday story!

Jann W. Jones
Development and Operations Assistant
1835 Savoy Drive
Suite 102
Atlanta, GA 30341
770-986-0035 ext. 25 (office)
770-986-0038 (fax)
CURE Childhood Cancer"

I donated ten dollars --- many others left comments saying they had donated as well. I don't know how much we collectively donated, and I'm sure it's not as much as some of the large-scale fundraisers that people do with CURE.

I don't even care. Every dollar donated is a dollar closer to a cure, and I want to thank you for that.

I might just make this an annual tradition, and donate a dollar for Kendrie's age every year on her birthday. Keeping my eye on the prize, however, will be the year none of us have to donate because childhood cancer has been cured.

That, my friends, will be a sweet birthday gift, indeed.

Until then, you rock. No, seriously. You do.

Hidden Mickey Moment #1

2009-09-11T05:23:00.006-05:00

My blogging friend Lori, who I mentioned in my "Because of a Blogger ...." SPT earlier this week, has another skill besides hosting awesome mother-daughter retreats. (Well, I'm sure she has many skills, but this is one that she talks about publicly on her site.) (On second thought, that doesn't sound quite right ... never mind.)

She is an all-things-Disney-guru. She is a plethora of Disney vacation know-how, and from this point forward in my life I will never plan a trip to Disney without consulting her first. She knows every secret, every shortcut, every tip .... I actually think her frontal cerebral lobe is shaped like Mickey Mouse.

She also has a running bit on her blog about "Hidden Mickey Moments". That's what she calls it, when she finds the quintessential Mickey shape of ears and hat together, unexpectedly. She finds it a lot -- a lot. Probably because she's constantly got Disney humming along in her subconscious. Me? Not so much.

Sure, I like Disney .... I've been to Disney ... we watch Disney movies ....

But I had never found a Hidden Mickey Moment, until today. It should come as no surprise that I found it on my desk, considering how much of my ~~day~~, ~~life~~, very existence is sucked away by this black hole called the internet.

I suppose it should also come as no surprise what items comprised my Hidden Mickey Moment.

(sigh)

I don't know whether to laugh, or be ashamed. Most likely I'll laugh --- that's what too much caffeine does to me.

Why we don't play with matches (warning, graphic ....)

2009-09-09T21:44:00.006-05:00

Although I can rush to assure you that no-one was playing with matches. Or lighters or torches or flame throwers or pyrotechnic devices of any kind. It was an honest-to-goodness, no-fault-of-anyone, nothing-more-than, ACCIDENT.

An innocent accident that can happen when a child (in this case specifically, my 11-yr old nephew, Landon) trips and falls into a fire during a Labor Day celebration at the lake. And a burning plastic water bottles sears to his arm and continues to burn, and his hand and knee suffer the most damage.

So no fault -- no blame. But still, how scary is this???

Things to be grateful for:

That it was not worse.

That we still had an ice chest full of water sitting on the patio to immediately submerge his hand in. Not the most sterile on the planet, but cold ... and full.

That honestly, it was an accident, and no one had to feel guilty for causing the injury through carelessness or disregard for safety.

That he has a 12-yr old female cousin whose first instinct was to scream her bloody head off and alert the adults, one of whom (me) saw it through the window and couldn't quite make my brain work as quickly as my eyes.

That he has an 8-yr old brother who helped pull him from the fire.

That he is still here with us, only a little worse for the wear, and when enough time has passed, he'll have an awesome story to tell about "remember that time I was on fire?!?!"

And on a much, much, MUCH more selfish note, I am grateful for the amazing freaking BOKEH I am getting with my new birthday lens, 50 mm 1.8. Check out these pictures! (assuming the content doesn't turn your stomach .....)

I love birthdays and new photography toys!!

Most of all, I love Landon.

SPT September 8

2009-09-08T08:23:00.011-05:00

OK, so now I have a dilemma. When Lelly of Lelly's Musings quit blogging, and therefore quit updating her weekly SPT Challenges at the beginning of the summer, I thought I was being smart by going back and doing her challenges from 2008. Then, last week, she popped up with a current challenge for today. So now I don't know whether to continue following the 2008 challenges, or change again, to the current challenge, but what if this is a one-off and she doesn't do another one next week, then I'd have to change back AGAIN, and then I would be so messed up, and people would be all hey, is she doing this years, or last years, although I doubt anyone cares, but really, its so confusing, although in all honesty if this is my biggest problem ........... oh wait. It isn't.

Anyway!!

I've decided to continue posting the 2008 challenges, at least for a while longer. Mainly because I already had the next two weeks in mind and why on earth would I do extra work if I don't need to?? Please don't suggest anything inane like personal growth or self improvement or any crap like that.

So, for the month of September, the SPT Challenge theme is: "Because of a Blogger ...."

This week, my "Because of a Blogger ...." features my fellow blogger and friend Lori, from I Can Be Right, Or I Can Be Happy. Lori and I attend the same church, but I think we first met through our daughters, who attend school together. This year, with the girls going into the 7th grade, she ~~blatantly stole from another friend of ours~~ had the great idea to host a Mother/Daughter Breakaway Weekend for six of the girls from their middle school.

The goal of the weekend was to spend some quality Mother/Daughter time together, but in a social setting ~~so the girls wouldn't be so quick to turn up their noses~~ which would be more fun for everyone. We did makeovers, ate out, ate in, ate junkfood (there was a lot of eating, now that I think about it) played games, sang karaoke, made scrapbooks and keychains, did a book club, tye-dyed t-shirts, etc. Lots and lots and lots of fun.

And in between, we also snuck in a bit of life-skills training, appropriate for pre-teen girls. We had breakout sessions, led by the moms, on subjects ranging from body image, to nutrition, to the importance of friendships and family relationships, to the damage that gossip and hurtful word can cause .... etc.

Lori worked her tail off to arrange accommodations, both overnight and for our activities, plan menus, make reservations, arrange a jam-packed schedule chock-full of fun activities, provide door prizes, and all the other good stuff that happened that weekend.

Like me, Lori is NOT a touchy-feely person, but I can honestly say that weekend we had laughter, tears, prayers, hugs, and more laughter --- and all for good. The girls, I believe, enjoyed themselves immensely. Brayden has the photo below from that weekend framed and hanging in her bedroom. The moms felt, or at least *I* felt, that we {{hopefully}} made an impression on the girls about what kinds of situations they might encounter in their upcoming teen years, and {{again, hopefully}} gave them a few resources and ideas for how to handle whatever might arise.

Most of all, I think the weekend served to reinforce the girls' friendships with one another, which we all know is crucial to surviving middle school intact. I agreed to attend the Breakaway Weekend for that reason .... to encourage Brayden in these relationships with girls who I think would be supportive, helpful friends to her. Ironically, I came away with reinforced friendships myself, with the other moms.

Lori included.

So thank you, Lori ---- because of you and your hard work, it was a great weekend.

Don't say I didn't warn you

2009-09-05T06:58:00.002-05:00

Scene in the kitchen, Thursday evening:

Kristie: "Blaine, look at this. Is this a tick?"

Blaine: "No, that's just a mole."

Kristie: "I don't have a mole there ... I think it's a tick."

Blaine: "For pete's sake, it's too small to be a tick. It's teeny tiny. If it was a tick, it would be all puffed up with blood. It's a mole. Or a scab or something."

Kristie: "I probably have Lyme disease."

Blaine: "You are so overdramatic. Besides, when would you have gotten a tick? You don't even LIKE the outdoors."

Kristie: "Probably from the lake last weekend. When I went behind that tree to pee. I'm telling you, it's a tick."

Blaine: "For the last time, it's not a tick. And why did you pee behind a tree? That's totally not your style."

Kristie: "It was that or walk all the way back up to the cabin or pee in the lake and quite frankly, it was too cold to get wet. Quit trying to change the subject .... let's focus on my Lyme disease."

Blaine: "For the love of God, it's a mole."

Scene in my bathroom, Friday morning:

I'm 42 years old and familiar with my own body. I do not have a mole there. I tugged on it .... it came off .... and its legs were moving. A tick. Tiny, yes, and not engorged, which according to Wikipedia, means it most likely WAS a deer tick and I will be keeling over from Lyme disease any minute.

In the meantime, we are going to the lake again this weekend. Open notice to anyone going with us --- I refuse to pee behind a tree again and become all tick infested and court Lyme disease. So if you're swimming near me, I suggest you do so with your mouth closed.

That's all I'm saying about that. You have been warned.

Ten for Ten

2009-09-03T06:23:00.012-05:00

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away .... (well, ok, central Georgia) there lived a fair princess with her family.

She was pretty stinking cute.

A few weeks after this photo was taken, the princess woke up one morning, and she had cancer.

That pretty much sucked.

What followed for this young girl and her family was two+plus years of chemotherapy treatments, all of which have been chronicled on this site. Here is a brief summarization of a few of the numbers of her treatment, as taken from the journal entry written about her off-treatment party:

"A few other fun things we did: I filled a jar with M&Ms to represent the number of chemo pills Kendrie took during treatment, then we let everyone take a guess and gave the jar to the person who guessed closest: The winner: (no cheating involved, I swear) my nephew Dalton …. the actual number of pills: 2121.

We also posted a few questions to see who might know the answers (it was funny to me that the other ALL mom at the party said to me, “You know, those questions were pretty easy” --- for her, I’m sure they were, ha!)

1. Number of ambulance rides Kendrie has taken: Two.

2. Number of days she has been inpatient during treatment: Twenty-five.

3. Number of times she has been stuck in the chest, arm, or leg, for flu shots, peg shots, arac shots, blood draws, or chemo: 115.

4. Number of blood transfusions she has received during treatment: Eight.

5. Her preventative antibiotic, Bactrim, she takes in a liquid form. How much has she taken over the past twenty-six months? Three and a half gallons."

Why am I telling you all this today? Two reasons ...... One, did you know September 12th is Childhood Cancer Awareness Day, and that September is Childhood Cancer Awareness Month? No? You didn't? Yeah, sadly, most people don't.

Here are a few facts, taken from the internet,which will hopefully help enlighten you:

Following is some information on childhood cancer in the US:

1. In the Citizen's Briefing book presented to President Obama upon his inauguration, childhood cancer was voted by the American people as the #5 Health Care issue. See Page 16 http://www.whitehouse.gov/assets/documents/Citizens_Briefing_Book_Final

2. Cancer is the #1 cause of death by disease for children, killing more than asthma, diabetes, pediatric AIDS, congenital anomoalies, and cystic fibrosis combined.

3. 46 children are diagnosed with cancer every day in the US.

4. Each year, 3000 children die of cancer in the US. 1 in 5 Children with cancer will die.

5. Every year, 35-40,000 children are in treatment for cancer.

6. September is National Childhood Cancer Awareness Month. Most people have never heard of this.

7. Less than 3% of all cancer research money goes to childhood cancer.

The one I love (which of course in this case, clearly means HATE) is that one in five children diagnosed with cancer will die. That's 20%. While I'm so thankful that number is much lower than it used to be, it is still unacceptably high.

Twenty percent.

Think about your child's class at school. I'm guessing around 20 kids, right? Now imagine the principal told you four of those children, picked at random, would be dead by the end of the school year, just for showing up to class.

Would you send your kid to school?

Think about your child's football, or baseball, or soccer team. Ten or fifteen kids, right? Imagine three of them will be killed on the court or on the field this fall. Would you let your child play?

I'm always amazed (and dumbfounded, and really pissed off, if you want the truth of it) when I hear someone say, "I'm so lucky .... I've been blessed with (insert number here) healthy children and I count my blessings every day."

Guess what? I was blessed with three healthy kids, too.

Until one of them woke up one morning with cancer.

Don't think it can't happen to you.

It can.

It does every freaking day for forty-six families in this country alone.

And reason #2 I'm telling you all this?

Because the beautiful princess we talked about in the beginning of this story???

She turned TEN yesterday.

Thanks to advances in pediatric cancer treatment, and a whole lotta LUCK, she wasn't one in five.

I mention luck to put something else in perspective ..... the 20% of kids that DON'T beat cancer???? Yeah, guess what ---- their parents loved them, too, just like I love Kendrie, just like you love your kids. Their parents followed doctor directions, and had faith, and said prayers, and did everything they were supposed to do, too. Sometimes, whether people want to believe it or not, cancer beats us. Not because we didn't wish it hard enough, or fight hard enough, or pray hard enough, or believe hard enough ............ but because the luck wasn't there. Nothing more.

Geez, that's freaking depressing.

While there's nothing we can do about luck, there is something we can do to help ensure it isn't a big factor anymore ----

Donate to childhood cancer research.

CHILDHOOD cancer research.

The best organization I know for this is CURE Childhood Cancer. I know the director of this foundation personally ..... her son is a pediatric cancer survivor. They are doing their best to help fund research for PEDIATRIC cancers, something the American Cancer Society does very little of. (And I'm not typing that to open up a firestorm of research donation statistical mud-slinging .... type any comment regarding that and it will be deleted from this site, I promise you .....)

A few facts about CURE, taken from their website:

"What exactly does CURE fund?

Research into the development of “targeted therapies” – that focus only cancer cells and do not harm surrounding healthy cells. Targeted therapies are critical to ensuring that patients are spared the devastating and often life-threatening “late effects” caused by current conventional therapies

Basic and clinical research

Training of future pediatric oncologists and researchers through the fellowship program at Emory University School of Medicine

Emergency financial assistance for families stricken by childhood cancer

Professional development and continuing education efforts for nurses, family support team members, and others caring for children with cancer

Innovative programs that address the critical and urgent needs of patients and their families, such as meals to inpatient families, outreach at the time of diagnosis, and bereavement support"

So here's what I'm asking you to do....

Please, in honor of Kendrie donate ten for ten.

Ten dollars in celebration of the fact she turned 10 years old yesterday.

I don't advertise on this site .... I've never tried to sell anything. Occasionally I will highlight fundraisers that I think are worthwhile.

Today, I am asking you to donate ten for ten, and to make a difference.

Because every child deserves to cook s'mores at a restaurant for their birthday:

Every child deserves to make a wish for the upcoming year ..... to HAVE an upcoming year ....

Please, go to CURE Childood Cancer and donate, in honor of Kendrie, in awareness of Childhood Cancer Month, and in preparation for the forty-six kids who will be diagnosed TODAY.

Raindrops on Roses and Girls in White Dresses

2009-09-01T09:22:00.006-05:00

Really, Julie Andrews is pretty much the antidote for anything, isn't she? This might be old news to some of you, but Blaine and I just discovered it and have watched it at least ten times today. I don't care if you're feeling a little blue, you can't help but watch this and smile.

And if I'm ever in a train station and somebody busts out with this, it will be pretty much the best day of my life.

Julie Andrews in a Train Station.

No clever title here ....

2009-08-31T06:24:00.005-05:00

A few days before we were to leave on our cruise, Blaine called me at home to tell me there was a job fair that day on the base, and to ask what I thought of him attending ....

"Why would you need to go to a job fair? You're not looking for a job." I replied.

"I know, I just thought it might be interesting to see what's out there, see who's hiring, what kind of jobs I might qualify for, that sort of thing," Blaine said.

"That's silly. You don't plan to retire for another two and a half years. So go next year, or even the year after that. But for now, I think it would be a big waste of your time," Again, I gave my opinion.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Blaine said.

The next day, Blaine called me again.

"The results of my medical review board just came in. Looks like I should have gone to that job fair."

*************************************************************************

And with that, the final nail went into the coffin of Blaine's career. Stupid cancer.

While I sincerely appreciate the kind words and encouraging sentiment that was left in the comment section, and sent in private e-mails after my last journal entry (and Blaine does as well ..... he rarely goes near my blog but this time I assure you that he read every single comment ....) I do feel that I need to make something clear.

The military in no way "screwed" Blaine .... the decision to medically retire him was not a vindictive one, or made without careful thought. In fact, his case went before a thorough medical review board who took months to decide. Blaine received his due process and the reason he was let go is valid.

We also feel its illogical and hurtful, and could have been avoided, but its valid.

***********************************************************************

"What do you mean they've decided to retire you?" I asked.

"Just what it says ... they're making me retire for medical reasons." Blaine responded.

"But you don't want to retire," I said. "Don't they understand that you love your job and you want to keep doing it? Can't you just explain to them, and tell them you don't want to retire, and ask to stay?"

"No, the choice is no longer mine."

"You mean you're not going to be in the Air Force anymore? Whether you like it or not? Whether you agree or not? Is that what you mean? Retire-retire? As in, you won't have a job anymore? Can they DO that????"

"Yes, Kristie, that's exactly what they mean ....."

"But, but, but ......"

I was like a dim-witted child, who couldn't quite grasp what he was saying .....

********************************************************************

To say we were stunned is an understatement. This was not new territory to us. In fact, this was the third time Blaine's case had gone before a medical review board. But both times previously, he was deemed fit for work. We thought the review board would come to the same decision again ..... why wouldn't they?

Ironically, both times previously when he was reviewed, he had missed MONTHS of work for surgeries, reconstructions, and the first six-week session of radiation in Seattle that liked to have killed him. Those times, he was allowed to keep his job. When he had his first major reconstructive surgery in Washington and resigned his squadron command position because he knew he couldn't do the job during such an extensive recovery, he was still allowed to remain active duty. When he contracted a MRSA infection, and almost lost his leg, and spent six weeks with a picc line on home health high-dose antibiotics (that made him so sick that he confesses now he thought dying *would* have been easier) he got to keep his job. Now, when he was actually back working a full-time schedule, doing the best work he's done in the past six years, he was being let go?

How was that even logical?

***********************************************************

"OK, that's just retarded. It doesn't even make sense. You are working more now than ever. Your boss loves you and wrote you a glowing letter of recommendation to stay active duty. So why this time? What was different this time?"

"Bottom line is I can't deploy as long as I have cancer, and they say they have determined at this point that I'm never going to get better, so they're letting me go."

"But you were non-deployable the other times as well, and they made an exception. Why won't they make an exception this time?"

"I guess they don't think I'm worth it anymore."

*******************************************************************

To address the comment left earlier about the military needing to be battle-ready at all times, and non-deployable members like Blaine are perhaps a liability, let me say ......... we completely understand. I think it would be *more* understandable if Blaine had a day-to-day job that required physical exertion (think firefighter, pilot, paratrooper, infantry, etc.) and he was unable to perform. Then, he would be unable to do his JOB.

But Blaine's job is contracting. He deals with defense firms, and sits behind a desk, doing research, making presentations, haggling contract negotiations. There are people in his career field who never deploy ..... we have friends who haven't deployed a single time.

Yes, Blaine is unable to deploy. They were willing to accommodate that disability previously .... they are no longer willing. That's the bottom line.

And while I think it sucks, and it was about as crushing a blow to Blaine's ego as there ever was, it's not like we can stamp our feet and cry, "It's not fair!"

Because it is. It's their decision to make and they've made it. We just wish they would have made a different one, and decided he was worth keeping around, even if "only" stateside.

*****************************************************************

"Look on the bright side. They've classified me as 100% disabled. So now, I'm a disabled veteran. That's got to count for something, right?"

"100% disabled? One-hundred percent??? Are you freaking kidding me??? One hundred percent disabled is someone with no arms and no legs. On a ventilator. IN A COMA. And even THEN, they could be a test subject for bed sore cream! You are working full time, are a deputy commander for a squadron, have a large team of people working under you, and are doing a damn good job at all of it ..... how is that disabled???"

"I don't know. That's just what they said."

*************************************************************

I have never seen Blaine so defeated. Cancer treatment is discouraging, but it's not personal. You can always hope things are going to get better, and that the end is in sight.

This *feels* personal, but it's not. And the end is clearly in sight, but it's not a decision we made for ourselves.

Just like cancer has done so many times, this forced a decision upon us that we didn't get to make. Our lives are being dictated by events that are out of our control, and are not our fault. Blaine didn't do anything WRONG. He didn't deserve this. Once again, it is something that has happened TO us. And once again, there is no one we can point a finger at to blame. No one we can be specifically angry with. Because we **do** understand.

But man, it totally blows.

**************************************************************

To our friends Kim, Kenny, Laura and Dave --- we owe you an apology. We found out this news about 48 hours before we left for the cruise.

We were reeling.

I stood out on our balcony, visions of mortgage foreclosure, and HUD housing dancing in my head. How would we pay our bills? What would happen to Blaine and Kendrie's medical care? Oh, dear Lord, would we have to eat beans the rest of our lives I don't even LIKE beans and I hear the government cheese is really gross.

We were not good company on the cruise. I know that. I'm sorry.

*****************************************************************

I'm really angry with myself that I allowed this to cast a pall on our summer vacation. A vacation that we had waited for, and saved for, for two years.

And then we went, and my nerves were frazzled.

Then my mom broke her foot.

Attention everyone in the world --- don't ever plan to take a vacation with us. We suck.

*******************************************************************

"My boss called me in and said I could appeal the decision, but that it would only slow the process down by two weeks, max."

"So 90 days, that's it? You've got to decide what to do, finish up everything at your job, and find a new job, in 90 days?"

"Yep."

"Do they realize they are cutting you loose only a few months shy of the 22 year mark? And that you're losing five percent retirement pay that way?"

"I don't think it was on purpose."

"But I don't think they care."

"Me neither."

***********************************************************************

To answer those questions, yes, he does get full retirement benefits, including medical insurance. Let me make this clear --- This is not a consolation prize. He earned that by serving twenty years, as does anyone leaving the military honorably after twenty years. And don't get me wrong, we are grateful for the benefits. But no one threw him a bone. He worked for those benefits. In fact, I'd venture to say he worked harder than the average person for those benefits because he worked six of those years while fighting cancer at the same time.

So there, cancer. You can't take that away from him.

*********************************************************************

"Do you want to stay home? Really, if that's what you think you need to do to get better, I will get a job."

"No offense, but you wouldn't earn enough money to pay our bills, even with my retirement. We'd lose the house."

"I know. But I'd do it. I've mooched off you for twenty two years; it's only fair that I get a job now if it would help."

"No. I want to work. I need to work. I don't mean to sound like a machismo asshole MAN, but it's about my pride .... I need to work."

"But how do you say to a prospective employer ..... 'Hey, the Air Force says I'm not physically fit to hold down a job ... will YOU hire me?' ???"

"I don't know .... that's what I'm trying to figure out myself."

***************************************************************

Here's some irony for you. Blaine is now a disabled veteran. That means he gets preferential job treatment for any job out there. He is currently being considered (oh, sweet baby Jesus, please don't let me have jinxed it by typing about it on this blog and actually mentioning it out loud ......) for a civil service job on base.

Which means the government, the very entity which stated he was not capable of holding down a job, is now going to give him first dibs on a government job, doing exactly what he was doing for the military.

Go figure.

******************************************************************

"So what did they say when it was your last day? Did anyone even say anything to you?"

"Nope, not a word."

"Seriously. Not one single person in that office came up and gave you so much as a good luck pat on the shoulder?"

"No acknowledgement whatsoever."

"You're kidding me ... I still can't believe you're not kidding me. It's not a bunch of clueless jerks in that office ..... you've got fellow Air Force officers in there! They KNOW you're supposed to have a retirement ceremony, and nothing? Not even a stupid good-luck card passed from cubicle to cubicle? Not even a comment when you were cleaning out your office? What the hell is wrong with those people? Did you do something really offensive to them, or are they just assholes????"

"Remember when I had my last two sessions of radiation and no-one from the office even bothered to call or send an e-mail the entire time to see how I was doing?"

"You're right. A bunch of assholes."

*************************************************************

For now, we are facing the unknown. Not sure when or where he will work. Odds are we will land on our feet ...............

He planned to retire in a few years, anyway. Truly, this is not the end of the world. But it is hurtful. It is frustrating to have a major life decision made FOR you.

It is disappointing to go out with a whimper.

**********************************************************

Things I am grateful for:

*That God's plan is sovereign and we can trust that. Right now, there is a window opening .... (I just hope it's a nice, big, beautiful bay window somewhere, with tempered glass and a glorious view ....)

*Twenty one years, seven months, of a wonderful active-duty military life. Getting to move all over the country, and meet all kinds of people, and have all kinds of experiences, that we would never have had otherwise. In time, I know the hurt from this situation will fade and we will have (hopefully) nothing but fabulous memories.

*That the first two medical review boards let him stay, so he *could* reach twenty years and retire with full benefits.

*That this happened AFTER we had already settled in Oklahoma, the place we intended to retire regardless. I simply cannot imagine trying to add the challenge of selling a house, buying a house, finding a job in another state, new schools for the kids, and moving half way across the country to the situation.

*Friends and strangers alike who are compassionate enough to care and let us know that. Thank you for your comments and e-mails.

*That I am married to a man who understands (and who has CLEARLY demonstrated, numerous times, over the past six years ....) the concept of pulling oneself up by one's bootstraps and getting on with it. This decision was devastating to him, but he immediately went into survivor mode and started looking at the decisions that had to be made, and taking a proactive stance towards what needed to be done. He has handled this with way more grace than I have. He's really a keeper, you know?

*That no one in my family was diagnosed with cancer this month. Hey, we've gone through it three times in the past six months .... a deep breath and an eye on the bigger picture can help put things in perspective.

*That I can be as obnoxious as I want in the commissary, because guess what? I'm now officially one of those "retirees" who shops there and drives everyone crazy. Always a silver lining, right?

The End

2009-08-28T08:26:00.006-05:00

Lt. Colonel Blaine E. Escoe
(very much still alive, in case the title gave you the wrong idea ....)

I'm not really sure how to write this post without sounding bitter and resentful and angry and hurt --- because those are all adjectives that describe me right now -- and have for a while. (I suppose this is the part where I confess I have been keeping a secret.)

Today is Blaine's last day as an Air Force officer. Last day in the military --- last day active-duty anything.

Not by choice.

He is being forced out -- a non-voluntary medical retirement.

Cancer has fucked us yet again.

And while I'm trying very hard not to bear ill will towards the military, which gave us almost twenty-two wonderful years ............... well, I am, just a bit.

I don't want to type the details today, because in my current emotional state, I would probably spew forth all kinds of ugly talk, and that's really not necessary. Suffice it to say Blaine is devastated, and it is hard for me not to feel ugly about it, on his behalf. There will be no retirement ceremony ... no one from his office has offered to throw a party .... this is not a celebration.

We've known for quite a while, and kept it a secret from almost everyone. Not sure if that was good or not because it gave me more time to stew. More time to focus on how unjust and unnecessary I feel this is ... more time to watch the events unfold, and see him hurt.

I'm hoping when the dust settles and we have our ducks in a row I will have a better attitude about the entire situation.

But for now, I'm going to put on my bitter pants and wallow. At least for a while.

I'm proud of you, honey. Twenty-one years and seven months of military service, without so much as a hiccup on your record, is something to be proud of. You be proud, too, and hold your head up.

Because I am a grown up like that

2009-08-27T13:05:00.005-05:00

So, I'm glad to read I'm not the only mom who still makes school lunches for her kids. Also, on days the kids choose to take a lunch from home, I also put a note inside each one. Nothing too mushy or gushy, just a quick note to "have a great day!" with a smiley face .... love, Mom

The notes are no big surprise since I do them every day, and this morning I was writing them out at the kitchen table while the kids were eating breakfast. Kellen said, "Is that my lunch note?" and the tone in his voice alerted me .....

"Do you not want a note anymore?" I asked. "Do you feel like they're silly, or you're too old?"

Don't get me wrong, I love writing them, and hoping that they give my kids a little boost mid-day, but I wouldn't ever want to embarrass them in front of their friends.

"Well," Kellen said, "It's just that some of the boys I sit with take them and read them."

"Read them in a 'oh, your mom is so cool' kind of way, or read them to make fun of you kind of way?" I asked.

"Making fun" Kellen replied.

{{now before we go any further, these boys are Kellen's friends, and its in no way a bully situation. Just boys harrassing boys ... being boys ... acting like boys ...}}

"OK," I said. "I'll stop sending them. I don't want to embarrass you."

"I like the notes," Kellen admitted. "I just wish the other boys wouldn't read them."

"Hmmmm." I said, "Let's do this. Starting tomorrow, I'll put the notes in a secret pocket of your lunchbox. That way they won't be able to see them. But for today, let them find it, ok?"

And this is the note I put in Kellen's lunchbox today:

Kellen,
It's too bad so many people in the world (you know who I'm talking about, don't you? And if you're reading this note, so do YOU ....) are such flatulating buttheads. Have a great day!!
Mom

SPT August 25

2009-08-25T19:37:00.007-05:00

Self-Portrait Challenges for the month of August have to do with the (2008, I'm a year behind) Olympics, and the Olympic motto of "citius, altuis, fortius" (faster, higher, stronger.) Specifically, with how that motto can be applied to our personal ability to "uphold the ideals of the Olympic motto", as per Lelly of Lelly's Musings.

She says, "while i'm far from an Olympic athlete, i like to think that i exhibit some of the same skill and determination that they do. so this month, for spt, i will challenge myself to uphold the ideals of the Olympic motto:

citius, altius, fortius
[faster, higher, stronger]

These three words encourage the athlete to give his or her best during competition, and to view this effort as a victory in itself. Each week, think about the Olympic motto, and how it can apply to our every day lives. citius. altius. fortius. are we giving our best? can we find victories in the efforts we make every day?"

So, in keeping with the Olympic theme, I present you with photos of the athletic event that is taking up the most of our free time lately .... football.

The Olympic ideal of: um, where am I supposed to go?

The Olympic ideal of: well, I'll just run and hope for the best.

The Olympic ideal of: Oh, thank heavens, he actually caught the ball.

The Olympic ideal of: Crap, there's three of them coming ... where am I supposed to go?

The Olympic ideal, from the mother, of: That's right, you better be glad you leaped OVER my child and didn't step on his head or I'd have to come right down there on that field and snatch you bald-headed.

And speaking of MOTHER, since this is supposed to be a SELF portrait, here's a picture of what I looked like all weekend:

PS. Julie, since you asked, I can tell you that Kellen stands 5"3 and weighs (without pads) 83 pounds. He is approx 1-2 inches taller than the majority of his team-mates, and weighs, on average, anywhere from 10 to 20 pounds less than most of them. In fact, of the 24 boys on his team, I would say he outweighs no more than three or four.

So I was feeling a little bad for my Ethiopian child, knowing that not only will the other team most likely pummel him all year, but that honestly, a good strong wind could probably knock him over. With that helmet on his head, he's like a top-heavy Weeble. If he falls, he might never get up.

But then I watched the Little League World Series the other afternoon (Go, Warner Robins!!) and saw in amazement that the 12-yr old pitcher for Chula Vista is 6"2 and weighs something like 200 pounds. Did I mention he is 12?

So now I don't feel so bad. Because compared to him, everyone on Kellen's team is a midget. And maybe if I take enough pictures between now and high school graduation, I'll be able to capture any growth spurts that might take place on film.

Copy Cat

2009-08-24T21:25:00.010-05:00

So you might have noticed that over in the sidebar of my blog, I have a running list of other blogs I follow. Some for the great writing, some for great photography, some for humor .... etc.

One of my faves is Gorillabuns. I started reading Gorillabuns because I had met Shana in person and she is honestly, funny as all get out. Then, tragedy struck their family earlier this year and now I read her blog, wishing beyond wishes that I had something wise or profound or even remotely helpful to say.

Anyway! Tonight a new blog entry popped up at Gorillabuns titled "Jake? Jake Ryan? He doesn't even know you exist!"

Here is the comment I left on Shana's site following that entry:

Oh. MY. Gosh! When I first saw the title of this post, I wondered why on earth you were quoting Hannah Montana ... because her boyfriend's name? Is TOTALLY Jake Ryan! Then, a nano-second later, I thought to myself .... no, wait, that's from that Molly Ringwald movie. CLEARLY Disney is stealing material from past generations. Need more proof? The high school principal on Wizards of Waverly Place is named Mr. Larritate. Get it? Larry Tate? The boss on Bewitched???

And also clearly? I have way too much time on my hands. In fact, I might make an entire blog post out of this topic.

And now I have.

So you tell me, can anyone think of any other instances of current Disney shows where they have ~~sneakily~~ ~~underhandedly~~ ~~copy-cattingly~~ extremely creatively used named of characters from other shows and other eras?

Because I'd love to know how many more there are.

Snippets

2009-08-23T16:27:00.001-05:00

Not in their entirety, but here are a few snippets of the first-day-of-school questionaire I give my children each year.

"For lunch I had ....."
Kendrie: 2 tacos
Kellen: Pizza sticks
Brayden: Crap. It's school food -- cold meat and hardened cheese.

"Lunch was actually pretty ...."
Kendrie: Fun!
Kellen: Average
Brayden: Bad

"One goal I am setting for myself this year is ...."
Kendrie: Make new friends
Kellen: Just be myself and have a great time.
Brayden: Stay on all the teachers' good sides.

"One thing I am really looking forward to this year ..."
Kendrie: Spanish
Kellen: Lunch
Brayden: Calling all the sixth graders "Sixlets"

"When I grow up, I really want to be ...."
Kendrie: Like my mom and dad.
Kellen: A CIA Ninja
Brayden: An actress and a vet

"I think this quiz mom makes us do is ...."
Kendrie: Fun
Kellen: Fun
Brayden: Fun even though I've taken it 47 times already.

What's funny is Brayden is actually NOT the one I would label "sarcastic" ... yet after reading her answers, I might have to re-think that opinion.

Still not as bad as 2005

2009-08-21T13:52:00.001-05:00

First day of school:

Child #3 forgot both her water bottle and her snack.

Child #3's best friend needed a baggie to hold her extra pencils.

Thankfully we live so close to the school I could run home and get everything the girls needed and bring it all back to school before the day had really even started.

But then I left my umbrella there in the classroom.

It was raining.

Second day of school:

I forgot to ask my children the night before if they wanted to buy lunch at school, or pack a lunch from home. (Hush, I realize my children are old enough to pack their own lunches but I'm still trying to play the "good mother at the beginning of the school year" shtick.)

This morning, after looking at the cafeteria menu for today, all three informed me they wanted to pack a lunch. Of course they did.

Kendrie wanted a ham and cheese sandwich, but informed me there was no more lunchmeat. I told her she could have pb&j.

Kellen informed me the cheese had been left open by accident and was hard. I told him HE could have pb&J, too.

Brayden said she would actually PREFER pb&j, but that Blaine had finished the last loaf of bread a few days ago and forgot to tell me.

Blaine confirmed this to be true.

(sigh)

So, Blaine ran to the store to buy lunch meat, cheese, and bread, and hey, while you're there, we need another gallon of milk and the kids would probably love if you'd buy some of those individual bags of cheetos that I am always too cheap to buy, thanks, honey.

He came home and I rushed to make the lunches.

Which Child #1 AND Child #2 walked off and left sitting on the kitchen table.

When we realized it, half way to the school, I told them children not to worry. I would bring their lunches to the school this morning and leave them in the office.

At which point Kellen said, "Never mind, I don't want to eat it anyway."

At which point **I** said, "Oh. You WILL eat that lunch, and {insert scary demon voice} YOU. WILL. LIKE. IT."

But hey, at least they all three made it to school, unlike my nephew, who missed his first day of middle school ever, thanks to some mystery "summer virus" that rendered him home in bed with a high fever and sore throat on the first day.

Something tells me that the weeping coming from my sister's house yesterday morning wasn't from happy baby angels ....

And still, NONE of it was as bad as this year.

Today

2009-08-20T22:17:00.002-05:00

Today, I went out for a leisurely breakfast with girlfriends.

And the baby angels sang and wept with happiness.

Today, I shopped at Target and none of the following -- candy, gum, toys, bouncy balls, flamin' hot cheetos, video games, Disney movies, or stuffed animals -- landed in my cart.

And the baby angels sang and wept with happiness.

Today, I sat in a doctor's office waiting for an appointment for half an hour, and not once did I have to worry about getting back to the sitter, or if the kids were ok at home.

And the baby angels sang and wept with happiness.

Today, I listened to the ipod player in my car and none of the following -- Jonas Brothers, Miley Cyrus, Taylor Swift, Naked Brothers Band, Emily Osment, Selena Gomez, or Demi Lovato -- played a single time.

And the baby angels sang and wept with happiness.

Today, I went for lunch at a restaurant none of my kids like -- and no-one complained.

And the baby angels sang and wept with happiness.

Today, the television never came on, which means none of the following -- Wizards of Waverly Place, iCarly, Drake and Josh, Suite Life on Deck, the Othersiders, or Malcolm in the Middle -- crossed my eyes or my brain even once.

And the baby angels sang and wept with happiness.

Can you guess what else happened today?

My kids started back to school.

And Kristie sang and wept with happiness.

Kellen, age 11 - August 2009

2009-08-18T22:38:00.002-05:00

I know I'm probably a wee bit biased .... but damn, that kid is good looking. :)

SPT August 18

2009-08-18T06:53:00.007-05:00

Self-Portrait Challenges for the month of August have to do with the (2008, I'm a year behind) Olympics, and the Olympic motto of "citius, altuis, fortius" (faster, higher, stronger.) Specifically, with how that motto can be applied to our personal ability to "uphold the ideals of the Olympic motto", as per Lelly of Lelly's Musings.

She says, "while i'm far from an Olympic athlete, i like to think that i exhibit some of the same skill and determination that they do. so this month, for spt, i will challenge myself to uphold the ideals of the Olympic motto:

citius, altius, fortius
[faster, higher, stronger]

These three words encourage the athlete to give his or her best during competition, and to view this effort as a victory in itself. Each week, think about the Olympic motto, and how it can apply to our every day lives. citius. altius. fortius. are we giving our best? can we find victories in the efforts we make every day?"

Last week, I know I thrilled you with my fantastical water-skiing ability ..... So, this week, I'm taking it down a notch. Instead of wowing and amazing you with my Olympic level athletic conquests, I'm going a little more local ...... being a little more humble .... not bragging so much about my wondrous feats .... instead, staying low key and under the radar ....

Small group game night.

Blaine and I recently ~~bullied and intimidated our way into, basically inviting ourselves and just showing up to the point it would have been awkward for the other members to say no~~ were invited to join a small group from our church. The purpose of small groups is to allow smaller groups (duh) to get better acquainted on a weekly or every-other-weekly basis. The church we attend has several thousand members, so this is a nice way to become better friends with a few people.

We joined a different small group last year but had problems working out childcare arrangements. Once we heard this particular small group was a family group and welcomed children, we were all over that. Even better, once every three months or so they have a family game night, and our most recent one took place this past Saturday evening.

We played a card game called 7-11, which is played with Skip-bo cards. It was a great evening of fun, snacks, door prizes, and most of all, time for the five families that attended to simply enjoy spending time together.

Since its not exactly Olympic-level activity, I thought I would spice it up with another well-known and (at least in my case) fondly-remembered athletic tradition .... the reading of the ABC Sports Intro. Who *doesn't* remember this from the Saturday afternoons of their youth???

::spoken in my best deep, official sports-y commentator voice::

::ahem::

"Spanning the globe to bring you the constant variety of sports... the thrill of victory... and the agony of defeat... the human drama of athletic competition... This is "Small Group 7-11 Night!"

The constant variety of sports:

The thrill of victory (Kellen, in the "lucky" glasses the kids took turns wearing all evening):

The agony of defeat (the four people who tied for "biggest loser", having a play off, which I won. So does that make me the biggest loser winner? Or the biggest loser loser? Because Kellen lost the biggest loser round which he claims makes him the biggest loser losingest winner. Or something like that.)

Whatever. I don't care what you call me. All that matters is I won a 7-11 gift card, which made me pretty darn happy.

I don't think the glasses helped her too much, but she had fun being an "athlete" like me, which is all that matters in the end.

Hey, hush up. This is *TOO* a game, and its going to count towards my spt, so there.

Our weekend, in numbers:

2009-08-16T21:11:00.004-05:00

3 -- numbers of stores I had to go to, to complete our back-to-school shopping lists. Because neither Target nor Staples had refill packages of wide-ruled notebook paper. The heck? That's like running out of number 2 pencils, or paperclips .... not acceptable.

17 -- number of times I complained about the current state of young miss fashions. Because a year or two ago, when all the girls' fashions were of midriff tops, shortened to show off my daughter's mid-section, I did not like it. She was not a hooker then and we did not want her going to school half exposed. This year, she is still not a hooker. So although girls' shirts are plenty long now, can someone explain to me why they must be so fitted? As in, curve-hugging, skin-tight, why-hello-every-line-of-your-undergarments tight? And please don't suggest layering .... three layers of skin tight clothes are still skin tight. And she is still not a hooker. And I griped about it in 17 different dressing rooms.

1, 3, 5, and 7 -- The sizes of clothes that are either too small, or too big, or BOTH, for Brayden in the juniors department. Clearly I need advice from the moms (or dads) of girls who are slightly older and slightly bigger than Brayden. She is fast approaching the day that the pants, shorts, and skirts in the kids section no longer fit, and the size she currently needs is not always on the rack. So we made our first foray into the Junior Department this year ::weep, weep:: I so don't understand. We found 3's that were too small, and 3's that were too big. 5's that were too small, and 5's that were too big. 7's that were too small; most 7's were too big. Almost all pairs were so low-rise that when she would sit down they would gap out the back and her crack would show. Thank the good Lord above that SHE refuses to wear them that way. In the meantime, I guess she'll be like her mother and buy lots of elastic waist sports clothing. Thankfully, NOT like me, they still look cute on her and she won't have to fend off questions about whether or not she is pregnant.

1,742 -- The number of dollars I spent on fresh fruit this weekend, only for Kellen to tell me he wants to take a break from smoothies.

2 --The number of trips it took to Home Depot before Blaine bought the correct color toilet seats for our bathrooms.

1 -- number of dead animals found laying in the road in front of our house.

1 - number of times my bed was wet in this weekend, by someone sleeping

1 - number of times it was an animal and not a human

1 - number of times I wondered if that was normal or if I should call the vet

3 - number of loads of laundry it caused

2 - number of hours I was in church this evening helping set up for a breakfast before I realized my t-shirt had a bad word on it.

83 -- number on the scale at Kellen's football weigh-in

many numbers above 83 - numbers of his team mates

358,389,177,893,859,373,420 - number of cockroaches our renter left in our house when she moved out. At least according to Blaine, because I am FORBIDDEN (his word, not mine) from going in the house because he swears I would have a heart attack and die and fall to the floor and the (*#$(#*)$* roaches would carry my body to their den and eat me.

120 - number of photos of Kellen I took for my photography class this week. (And yes, I will be sharing them with you, because this apparently *IS* turning into a photo blog ... which is what happens when I have nothing else to blog about. Well, photos, and dumb lists like this.)

The awesomeness just keeps coming

2009-08-13T08:33:00.006-05:00

Since I've already, quite humbly and modestly, if I say so myself, shared with you my total awesomeness in athletic ability, I thought I would go ahead, even though I don't like bragging, even though it's really not my style to toot my own horn, even though I'm actually quite a shy and modest person ......... and show you my awesomeness in photography, as well.

These are all pictures I took this weekend at the lake. In all their un-edited, un-tweaked, un-photoshopped glory.

Try not to be jealous of my mad skillz and talent.

Would you like me to take pictures at your baby's christening, perhaps? Or maybe a graduation or wedding? Because truly, my awesomeness knows no bounds.

SPT August 11 -- AKA It's no wonder the most athletic thing I did in high school was play in the marching band

2009-08-11T17:18:00.003-05:00

In continuing with Lelly's SPT Challenges of 2008, the entire month of August pertains to the Olympic qualities ~~citius, opius, maximus.~~ ~~Citius, fortis, strongius.~~ ~~Citrus, fortress, strongis.~~ Citius, altius, fortius. Faster, higher, stronger.

It is a well-known fact that I ... am extremely athletic. Grown men weep when they see me walk into the gym, knowing I am about to bury them in shame on the bench press. Professional athletes of all sports have been known to scurry away in fear when I approach. Biking, running, tennis, skydiving, weight lifting, team sports, solo events ........ truly, my talents are legendary and my skills awe-inspiring.

Which is why this Self-Portrait Challenge, to highlight myself with Olympic qualities, has been such an easy one for me. In fact, the biggest challenge I've faced has been LIMITING myself to only one activity and photograph a week. But since I don't want to make the rest of you .... even those of you who consider yourself "in shape" (finger quotes, as compared to me .....) feel bad about yourselves when comparing yourself to me and my total athletic awesomeness, I've worked hard to not be all Braggy McBraggyPants.

This past weekend, the venue of choice for me and my awesomeness was water-sports. Made sense, since we spent the weekend at the lake, that the specific area of water skiing would be one where I would shine. After all, I grew up spending every weekend at the lake, boating and skiing with my parents. This was back in the days before we had cool water toys like wave runners or jet skis. We rode in a BOAT, dammit. And we didn't get pulled around on fancy schmancy pretty-boy toys like knee-boards or wake-boards or U-skis. No, sir, we learned to ski on long, skinny pieces of wood called WATER-SKIS .... the kind WITHOUT fancy grippy foot pads or galvanized rubber shoe attachments. And we didn't have comfy, cushy ski gloves, or padded rubber ski handles, either. We held on to a wooden stick tied to the end of a rope and if you were LUCKY it only rubbed a dozen blisters off your palms and if you weren't lucky you got splinters from the wood on top of the blisters. We learned to ski young, and ski tough, by golly, and since that was all there was to do, we got darn good at it.

(Wait. I'm getting perilously close to the edge of the "we walked uphill to school both ways in the snow barefoot and we liked it" mode of lecturing, aren't I?)

Anyway, my point is that I learned to ski when I was ten, and learned to slalom ski when I was twelve. And with the exception of very few summers in between now and then, I have skied pretty much every summer since, at least one time, so I can say with pride and arrogance, "Check me out ... I still got it."

OK .... in all honesty, I might not be very athletic, but I've ALWAYS been able to water ski. Want proof? Here's a picture of me from 2006, skiing five weeks (four?) after giving birth:

The form might not be the best around, but there I am ............. upright.

This weekend, when I was ready to take my turn on the slalom, my brother-in-law Cliff, who really, really, really wants the best for me but unfortunately, is also an unfailingly honest person, asked if I wouldn't rather try wake-boarding instead. I have never enjoyed wake-boarding ... in fact, I'm not even sure I've ever gotten up on one. When I asked why he thought I might prefer wake boarding to skiing, he reminded me that they lost my favorite slalom ski earlier in the summer. He also explained to me that the new ski they bought to replace the old ski was slimmer, and caused much more drag, which makes it much harder to get up on. MUCH harder, Cliff repeated.

Inwardly, I scoffed.

(Yes. Totally scoffed.)

Come on. I've been skiing since I was TEN. I hardly think the SKI is going to make a difference. I mean, I am practically a PROFESSIONAL SKIER, Cliff .... don't even insult me.

TAKE YOUR PANSY WAKEBOARD AND KEEP IT FOR THE YOUNG WHIPPER SNAPPERS WHO DON'T KNOW ANY BETTER.

PASS. ME. THE. SKI.

"OK," Cliff replied. "Just remember you're going to need to really tuck and hang on through the drag."

I jumped off the back of the boat and got settled in the water. He threw me the ski and as I wrestled it onto my foot, I found myself thinking, "Dang, these boots are freaking tight!" In fact, by the time I got the ski ON MY FEET, I was already winded.

Cliff drove the boat around to give me the rope. I held my balance perfectly in the water (remember, I am an awesome athlete) and waited for him to give it some gas.

I remember hearing the engine rev ..........................

feeling a tug on my shoulders ............

FACEPLANT!!!

Next thing I knew, I was in the water, face first.

"Hmmmmm," I thought. "That didn't go quite like I had planned. Oh well, this is my first time this summer, and my first time on this new ski. I'm sure a learning curve is in order."

Cliff circled the boat around again ..... I held steady ..... he gunned the engine ....

FACEPLANT!!!!

As he circled around again, I made a laughing comment about how it appeared I was more out of shape than I realized. Cliff tried once more to reassure me that the new ski was difficult for even him to get up on ..... and maybe I would rather wakeboard???

Well, at that point, you might as well wave a red flag in front of my nose.

No, by golly, I'll get up on this damn ski or die trying!!!

And that's about what happened.

FACEPLANT!!!!

FACEPLANT!!!!

FACEPLANT!!!!

FACEPLANT!!!!

FACEPLANT!!!!

FACEPLANT!!!!

FACEPLANT!!!!

FACEPLANT!!!!

I must have tried twenty or thirty times to get up on that )&%*($&%)$(* ski.

At one point, I heard an emergency notice going out over the boat radio from meteorologists in the area, shocked and concerned by the sudden drop in the water level of the lake .... a total of almost six inches in twenty minutes. I can assure them that every missing drop of lake water was firmly lodged in my sinus cavity.

I couldn't get up on that damn ski to save my life.

Cliff kept offering helpful suggestions like, "Tuck tighter!" and "Keep your elbows down!" and most helpful, "Quit falling!"

I replied, "I'm too fat to tuck any tighter!" and "They ARE straight, you moron!" and "&*#$^#(*&%$#(&$!!!!!!!" (I'm sure he counts his blessings EVERY DAY that he married into this family.)

Finally, I conceded defeat. It was the first summer in thirty YEARS that I couldn't get up on a slalom ski. But I'd be damned if I was going to suffer through an entire sinus cavity full of lake water without ANYTHING to show for it, so I asked the boys in the boat to throw me the wakeboard.

Friggin' wakeboard.

I would like to point out that to anyone who is accustomed to skiing, that wake-boarding is actually quite different. Your legs are side-by side, as opposed to one in the front and one in the back. Your feet face sideways, not toes in front. And I was constantly leaning over forwards, with my knees bent, instead of a graceful back-lean like I enjoy while skiing.

And although I was upright at last, I think you can see for yourself how much fun I was having:

Now, don't you wish you were as athletic as me?

Our Weekend of Awesomeness

2009-08-10T21:46:00.021-05:00

This time last summer, I was more than ready for school to start and to have some reprieve from the non-stop squabbling that was going on around here. This year, either my kids have been better behaved, or I've been buying better-quality liquor to dull the pain.

Kidding. They've had their moments of total obnoxiousness, sure, and we're going to have some serious laptop- and tv-habits to squelch when school starts next week, but overall its been a pretty good summer. Probably the two weeks of vacation and week of summer church camp right smack dab in the middle was a good way to break up the chunks of ~~fighting and bickering~~ quality time.

Since school begins next Thursday, we're trying to cram all the last-minute "finals" into the time we have left. Final trip to the water park, final matinee, final day of free bowling thanks to the coupons they passed out at school last May .... which sadly, would also be our FIRST day of free bowling, since we didn't utilize the passes AT ALL, which is just really lame and pathetic, especially when you consider its one of the few activities that take place in an air conditioned building.

This weekend we had what will probably be our final trip to the lake with my sister and her family. Who knows? We might get to go again before it gets too cold, but this was the last weekend that no-one had to rush home at any certain time on Sunday night because of school the next morning. We were able to play and sleep and eat at our leisure, no time constraints, no schedules. Stay up as late as we wanted, sleep as late as we wanted, get on the water at our own pace, stay on the water until everyone had their fill ... you get the drift.

Quite frankly, it was a weekend of awesomeness. Which I thought I would share with you ... in .... what else? Photos, of course. Because that's just how I roll.

Awesomeness in getting dirty, because that's how THEY roll:

Awesomeness in spending time as a family (never mind that we had to re-take this photo because I didn't have a towel wrapped around my neck in the first one and the cleavage, my GOSH, was truly frightening, and evidence that I need to buy a more supportive swimsuit next summer):

Awesomeness in tubing:

Awesomeness in tubing like crazy people:

Awesomeness in wondering if there would be anyone left in the tube when it finally came down (sometimes there was .... sometimes there wasn't):

Awesomeness in spending time with Grandma Betty, who I think deserves some kind of medal for braving another day, on another boat, considering what happened last time:

Awesomeness in silhouettes (I just think this is a cool picture):

Awesomeness in underage driving:

Awesomeness in total cuteness:

Awesomeness in skiing and wake-boarding:

Do you see this face? This handsome face below?

I love the kid behind this face for so many reasons ..... SO many reasons .... not the least of which is his total and complete lack of fear. Ever. To do anything or try anything or enjoy anything. Which leads me to ..........

The TOTAL awesomeness of the wipeout:

And I think overall (especially considering nobody was permanently injured or maimed in the taking of these photographs) this was a pretty awesome way to spend our final weekend at the lake.

Stay tuned for more awesomeness, as I continue with my athletic spt tomorrow .....

Thanks a lot, Walt Disney

2009-08-07T07:46:00.009-05:00

Wednesday afternoon saw me and my three children at a local shoe store, buying new back-to-school tennis shoes. Or should I say, *attempting* to buy back-to-school shoes. At least for two of them. One of them went into her normal "it takes half an hour to decide on anything and we've got to try on every pair in the store and then fuss about them all because these are too tight and these are too loose and none of them are exactly what I had in mind" and since the first two had already annoyed me with their complaining and eye rolling and smart mouths, I wasn't willing to wait on the third so I said we were leaving which elicited a whole 'nother tantrum because that's not fair they got new shoes and I didn't and I reminded her that she and I have an entire day of shopping planned for next week and we can just buy her shoes then but that's still not fair because probably the perfect shoes are right here in this store if I could just try on another eight thousand pair I'm sure I could find them and the other two are still complaining and whining and really, remind me again why I don't drink in the middle of the day?????

Regardless, we were in the car yesterday afternoon with Kellen, Kendrie, and their friends Chance and Emma. Kellen had worn older shoes that morning and left his new shoes, still in the shoe box, in the car the day prior. He was changing shoes ..... this is (I am not even kidding) the conversation that took place:

Chance: "Are those new shoes?"

Kellen: "Yeah, we bought them yesterday."

Kendrie: "Show Emma your new shoes."

Chance: "What kind are they?"

Kellen: "Pumbas."

Kendrie: "You mean Puma."

Kellen: "No, I mean Pumba. Just like the picture on the box." And he points to the puma logo on the box.

Chance: "That animal is called a puma."

Kellen: "No, it's called a pumba. Do you guys even see what I'm pointing to?"

At which point we were all sort of giggling and I said, "Kellen, honey, I think you're thinking of 'Timon and Pumba' from the Disney channel. Remember that show? That little one was named Pumba."

Kellen: "Yes, exactly! That's what they're called --- Pumbas!"

Kendrie: "It's Puma, not Pumba! PUMA!!"

Emma: "A pumba is that Disney creature. A puma is a leopard-like animal. The shoes are named after the animal .... P.U.M.A."

Kellen, hesitantly: "Mom, is it puma or pumba?"

Chance: "I'm telling you, it's puma."

Kellen: "I'm still pretty sure it's pumba."

Me: "No, actually it's puma. That animal right there (and I pointed to the logo) is called a puma."

Kellen: "Really? It's puma? There's no 'B'?"

Me: "No, it's just plain puma."

Kellen: "Oh. All this time I thought it was a pumba."

And everyone in the car laughed a little and we moved on.

Then, a few miles down the road, Kellen, who was sitting in the passenger seat, looked over at me and said under his breath, so no-one else could hear, "Are you sure the "b" isn't just silent???"

Bless his heart. That Disney show messed him up for life.

I'm sorry, who?

2009-08-05T22:15:00.005-05:00

I was doing some business late last week with a company and had a need to call customer service. I spoke with a customer service representative named "Margie" who explained that I needed to fill out a customer service form and return some information that way. She said she would e-mail me the form, and I could e-mail it back. That was on Friday, and although I ~~am freakishly obsessed with e-mail and check it nonstop~~ checked periodically, the e-mail never came.

I was a little annoyed, but you know, these things happen. So first thing Monday morning, I called back and asked for the form to be sent to me again. I spoke with the same CSR, Margie, who assured me she sent it. (yeah, right) She confirmed my e-mail address and promised it would be sent again before the end of the day.

That night, I checked my e-mail program again .... not there.

At this point I was starting to get a little cranky. Don't tell me you're going to do something, especially something as simple as sending an e-mail, and then not do it.

This morning I was all set to call one final time and if needed, be a little more assertive to get my point across. I mean, come on. It's a freaking e-mail, Margie, how difficult can it be to hit the "send" button??? But because I have a history of putting my foot in my mouth, I thought I should check my e-mail boxes one final time before calling.

Inbox: Nope, not there.

Spam: Nope, not there.

Every single various sub-folder on my system: Not there.

And then, just to be on the safe side, I went to my Deleted E-mail folder and sorted alphabetically by sender's name, looking for Margie.

Guess what?

There were two e-mails, sent three days apart, BOTH OF WHICH I had deleted without opening. Want to know why? Because they were sent, with no subject line, with attachments.

From MARGE SIMPSON.

I totally thought it was a joke, or a virus, and had deleted them both without reading them. And because I delete so much stuff without opening it, it didn't even register what I had done, and I forgot about it the second they were gone.

Geez, was I ever relieved I didn't call her back to complain.

What a doofus. (Me, not Margie.)

SPT August 4

2009-08-04T17:00:00.004-05:00

Self-Portrait Challenges for the month of August have to do with the Olympics, and the Olympic motto of "citius, altuis, fortius" (faster, higher, stronger.) Remember, I'm doing the 2008 challenges, so this makes sense, even though I feel like a doofus writing about something that happened a year ago ....

Specifically, with how that motto can be applied to our personal ability to "uphold the ideals of the Olympic motto", as per Lelly of Lelly's Musings.

She says, "while i'm far from an Olympic athlete, i like to think that i exhibit some of the same skill and determination that they do. so this month, for spt, i will challenge myself to uphold the ideals of the Olympic motto:

citius, altius, fortius
[faster, higher, stronger]
These three words encourage the athlete to give his or her best during competition, and to view this effort as a victory in itself.

each week, think about the Olympic motto, and how it can apply to our every day lives. citius. altius. fortius. are we giving our best? can we find victories in the efforts we make every day?"

It's no shocker that I don't have an athletic bone in my body, and in fact, tripped over a lawn chair in my sister's garage today and almost fell down. So while I certainly can't apply these ideals to myself in any kind of athletic fashion, I think I can find ways they might apply to my NON-athletic daily life.

Today's trait, "faster" ties in perfectly with how I spent the afternoon -- taking pictures of my kids and three of my nephews while they swam at my sister's house. I needed to be "faster" on the shutter button to get this great picture of the six of them, and when I did, I felt victorious indeed:

And this is what happens when you aren't fast enough:

And I realize it's not technically a "self" portrait since I'm not in the shot ... but at least a couple of them are only one generation removed ... so on second thought .... why, yes. It IS a self-portrait! Hush up, it is so!!

Sadder ...

2009-08-03T22:56:00.005-05:00

Not sure which is sadder ...

That I've had "update blog" on my to-do list since last Thursday and haven't done it ...

Or the fact I haven't done it because I can't think of a darn thing to write about.

I went grocery shopping today.

I was late for book club tonight.

Kellen lost one of his brand-new football gloves the first night he wore them.

We are shopping for school supplies tomorrow.

See? See what an exciting life I lead??

Try not to be too jealous.

As much as I hate feet, you'd think I wouldn't stick them in my mouth so often

2009-07-30T22:48:00.009-05:00

Updated to add: Teacher Tom, or anyone else who might have read this and gotten the wrong impression .... I did not at all think this young woman was "trashy" looking ... in fact, I wrote that very thing below. She was adorable .... just so much older looking than twelve that I was taken aback. And promptly stuck my foot in my mouth about it, which is about par for the course for me. :)

*****************************************************

Tonight, I attended the second in a six-week series of classes I am taking at the local vo-tech to learn portrait photography. Tonight's session was about learning to use studio lights and the proper camera settings for traditional studio photography, as well as letting us "practice" posing a model. That's something I have struggled with every time I've ever taken photos for someone else .... we show up, I've got my camera, and they say something along the lines of, "So, tell me what you want me to do or where you want me to stand or sit and what should I do with my hands" and I look at them like they've grown a second head, or like they're speaking a foreign language because truly, I have no clue where to even begin.

Tonight, the instructor brought his daughter along to be our model. The first half of the class she helped him with the computer, viewing images we had all brought in to be critiqued ... then he had a photo session with her, to show us how he would do it as a professional if she came into his studio for portraits. Then we all got to practice with her.

When he was preparing to start his session, he told us how he likes to visit with his clients, especially if this is their first time in his studio, and develop at least a little bit of rapport to help them feel at ease. So while he was putting up the backdrop, and meter-testing each light, and syncing the strobes, he was sort of half-handedly asking her questions as if he didn't know her .... again, just to give us an example.

He started with the standard, "What's your name?" and then "How old are you?"

Now, she had been in the room over an hour already, and although she hadn't spoken much, I could clearly see she was in high school. Not very tall, but with a fairly-developed figure, nicely styled hair, and a full face of makeup. I wouldn't have *guessed* college, but definitely at least driving age. So when she replied, "Twelve", well, I about fell over.

"You're kidding," someone else in the room asked. "You're twelve?"

(Clearly, I wasn't the only one taken by surprise.)

"Yes," she said.

And I said, "Really? Twelve? Are you kidding?"

"No," she repeated, "I'm really twelve."

And then the thought that went through my brain was, "Holy cow, my daughter is twelve, but she doesn't look NEAR as ...." except unfortunately I realized, because everyone had turned to look at me, including the girl, that I wasn't actually thinking those thoughts in my brain, but that they were in fact coming out of my mouth. OUT LOUD. IN FRONT OF EVERYONE.

So I immediately started scrambling for an adjective I could use that wouldn't sound judgmental or mean-spirited. I mean, she was a cute girl, but what I was really thinking was, "My daughter doesn't look near as ......" What? Slutty? Trampy? Old? Developed? Mature? Because she didn't look slutty OR trampy ... she just looked so much more .... so much more ....

"Pretty!" I finally exclaimed. "My daughter is not near as pretty as you are."

And the lady sitting next to me turned and said, "That's not a very nice thing to say about your own kid!"

So I started back-pedaling, and trying to fix it, only it was clear I was just digging myself in deeper.

"No, I mean, she's pretty, too, it's just that she doesn't look so .... um ..... so .... grown up, is all" I finished weakly. Really, there is no good adjective to describe what I was thinking.

And her father, my INSTRUCTOR, heard the whole thing.

POSSIBLY she was so fixed up because she knew she would be having her picture taken twelve hundred times tonight.

POSSIBLY my daughter is a little behind the times, considering she is also twelve and wears no make up at all.

POSSIBLY I will soon be receiving a big fat "F" in Portrait Photography this year.

I'll just sit over here in the corner while my uterus weeps

2009-07-29T12:11:00.005-05:00

Although he had been talking about doing it for a few weeks, and definitely wanted it done before school started, I still wasn't quite ready. After the first football practice Monday night, his only reply to my "Did you have fun?" inquiry was a desperate, "I couldn't see the ball to catch the passes! I've got to get it cut!"

And so we did.

I don't really care, though. I mean, it's just hair, right?

So what if he's been growing it out for an entire year? So what if he hasn't had a short, typical-little-boys cut since he was two years old? Hey, I know girls who wear their hair like this on their wedding day!

So what that our friend Jennifer had, at this point, been cutting for ten minutes already and had only gotten him to the "bob" stage .... it's just hair, right?

"Hey, Kellen, the 1990's called. Joey from "Friends" wants his hair back."

OH. MY. GOSH.

Where the HELL did my little boy go??!!??!??

I mean, sure, there's enough hair there to make a concert wig for Hannah Montana, but I had NO IDEA it would change his appearance so much!!! Make him look so ..... so ..... so ..... grown up! ::sob::

Don't get me wrong. I love it. LOVE it. And he loves it, and everyone who has seen it loves it. It's just that .... well .... when we walked in the salon, he was my shaggy-headed elementary boy. Now, he's ..... he's .... he's (gulp!) big and grown up and going into middle school like a YOUNG MAN!!!

Excuse me while I find the phone number for that doctor who does vasectomy reversals.

Whatever happened to ....

2009-07-28T14:01:00.012-05:00

... the weekly self-portrait challenge that used to take place each Tuesday at Lelly's Musings? Well, I'm not sure either, but I know I sure miss it!

Lelly took a recent break from blogging, which I can certainly understand, because Lord knows I go through phases myself where I can't think of a darn thing to write and nothing amusing or exciting or interesting has happened and I wind up blogging about something stupid like dog poop. For me, though, normally I write something along the lines of, "Woe is me, nothing amusing or exciting or interesting has happened, whatever shall I blog about if not dog poop?" and then the next day someone in my family gets cancer. (PS. Thanks to those of you who have asked ... my mom is recovering nicely from her cancer treatment and the broken foot is healing well; my sister is 2/5th through her radiation, with clean margins on her lumpectomy, thank goodness; Blaine had all his oral implants removed yesterday as part of his ongoing prosthodontic work; and Kendrie, as I type this, is on the sofa with a friend, kicking Mario Cart's ass on her DS, as best I can tell from the giggles and shrieks coming from the living room.)

But I digress!

I was so happy to stumble upon the 2009 SPT Challenge and jumped in feet first back in January. Most weeks I didn't have a clue if I was doing it "right", but the important thing is that I was doing it, and I appreciated Lelly coordinating it for us. I even went out and bought all the supplies I needed to scrapbook the year and create an entire album around this ongoing process. Title ideas for the scrapbook: "A Glimpse of Me and Mine in 2009" ... no, that's stupid. "All about Me, with SPT!" ... no, even stupider. Well, I'll come up with something. I've still got five months to think about it, right?

Then, while I was on vacation, Lelly announced she was taking a break from blogging. By the time I got home, dug my way out from under the dirty-laundry mountain, realized what day it was, and looked at a real, live, calendar, well, an entire month had gone by and I hadn't posted a single self-portrait, nor had she updated the challenge portion of her site.

And my album and scrapbook supplies sat in the corner, mocking me.

So! This SPT Challenge is apparently something Lelly has done for at least the past two years, if not longer. Since I didn't take part last year, I decided to simply go back and do *those* challenges for myself for the second half of this year. If she decides to re-start the challenge this year, great! And if she doesn't, again, I certainly understand. As long as she doesn't challenge me to self-portrait about dog poop, I think I can still make it work.

Since I missed the entire month of July, here are those challenges, which dealt with SUMMER last year, in all its shades and nuances. It should come as no surprise that they are primarily vacation photos, since we were on vacation half of the month. Speaking of vacation .... (sigh) .... when do I get to go back???

July 7th SPT Challenge: Incorporate Sun

Brayden and I on the sunny deck of the cruise ship. Ironically, it started raining about two and a half minutes after we took this picture.

July 14th SPT Challenge: Incorporate Water

Well, I'm not sure I can get a much bigger body of water than the ocean. This is us on one of the formal nights on the ship, with the large porthole window behind our dining room table.

July 21st SPT Challenge: Incorporate Shade

Shade? Shade???? We were in the Caribbean, for pete's sake, the land of abundant sunshine. And since Blaine didn't offer to let me share his hammock that day under the trees in Haiti, this photo will have to do. Me, in my SHADES, on deck. What you don't see in the photo is that just a few seconds before this, the ship's horn blew, signaling departure. Have you ever HEARD one of those horns? They are deafening, and always guaranteed to startle people. Kendrie jumped so high she almost fell down, and I laughed so hard I almost wet my pants. Because I am an AWESOME mom.

July 28th Challenge: Incorporate Ice Cream

OK, I know, I know. I'm supposed to be watching my weight. So what am I doing eating ice cream? Well, um, it was a challenge. A direct challenge from Lelly. And I am nothing if not a rule follower. So, if we're being honest, I was simply following direction. Taking one for the team. Making a sacrifice. I mean ... it's clear .... it only makes sense ..... well, you know ..... oh, forget it. Chocolate almond, my favorite!!

The beginning, middle and end. And by end, I mean END.

2009-07-27T23:00:00.007-05:00

The beginning of summer, we spent our time sitting and watching this:

The middle of summer, we spent our time sitting and watching this:

And now, can you guess how we're going to spend our time the END of this summer?

(this was that jumping-and-rolling-over-your-teammate exercise, which as far as I'm concerned, they all looked a little like Tuck and Roll from the Bug's Life movie, if you ask me. Kellen is in the red shirt, and I can't decide if he's getting the hang of diving over his friend, or if he's having a seizure.)

I'm not complaining, I'm really not. Kellen is fit and healthy and happy and loves it. And to be completely truthful, I was born and raised in Oklahoma, where football reigns, and there is no better Friday night past-time. It's the sport I love most ... its the one sport where I actually understand all the rules. Quite frankly, I'm GLAD he's finally playing on a team, even if it means we do have to take a break from his beloved soccer. Football feels right ..... it feels like home.

Of course, I'm also fairly certain after all these months of sitting and watching my son play sports, although HE will be in great shape, I will probably acquire a wretched case of permanent chair-butt, and my END will have to be explained on my headstone some day .... as in, "Here lies Big-Butt Kristie Escoe, who needed two spaces in the graveyard just to fit her rear end ..... but by golly, she never missed a game."

Although ... wait. What's that? Do you see?

Do you see the one thing that might get me through the rest of this summer and fall ???? Ahhhhhhhhh, that's why I love my hometown. At least it will be easy to get my DDP fix while he's at practice.

NOT all in the family

2009-07-26T06:04:00.005-05:00

Thankfully, Kellen does not share my ~~loathing, burning, hatred~~ slight aversion to physical exercise. He enjoys playing sports, and doesn't mind sweating and running and jumping and all those other things that 11-yr old boys love to do.

He's been attending a wellness and conditioning program this summer sponsored by his school's phys. ed. department, and for the most part, loves it. They "warm up" by running a mile, in the heat. Seriously? That's a warm up?? For me, that would be "prelude to a heart attack" and I'd be done for the day, if not for the week. The kids, however, follow this with more running, and weight training, and ~~calesthenics~~, ~~calisthinics~~, push ups and sits up and other ~~crap~~ activities.

Kellen is tall, and he's fast, but he's not very strong. I mean, when you have so few muscles, and absolutely no fat, that your shadow puts off the image of a pencil at high noon, can you really expect to lift much weight?

But still, it bothered him that so many boys his age were stronger than him, so he came home and declared he wanted to start lifting weights. Before Blaine got sick, he worked out with weights almost every day, and loved it, so he was happy to help.

We provided Kellen with the ultimate in high-tech work out equipment. Nothing is too good for our son. Total pro work out clothing, and top of the line training gear. After all, we are NOTHING if not high class.

Try not to be too jealous.

Excuses, excuses

2009-07-24T08:59:00.004-05:00

I know I joke and kid around a lot about my weight .... in a sort of, "the best defense is a good offense" kind of way. I'm partly kidding, because I'm healthy and happy and love me a good spoonful of chocolate chip cookie dough, and really, who on this planet besides ME gives a hoot how I look? .... and partly, I've always acknowledged, somewhere deep in the recesses of my brain, that possibly, maybe, there is a small, teeny tiny, minute chance I could stand to lose a few pounds, IF I'm being totally honest with myself. The fact that NONE of the clothes in my closet fit me anymore is another tiny clue.

Then, I saw the pictures Blaine took of me on the cruise, in a swimsuit. Photographers everywhere know that the problem with actually BEING the photographer is that you are rarely in the pictures. In my case, specifically, since I am the one who takes the kids to the pool and the lake, I am NEVER in pictures in a swimsuit. Until vacation, when Blaine so gallantly offered to take some photos so I could have photographic proof that I truly did go on vacation with my family.

After seeing those pictures, I think I shall have to burn the evidence. It would be less painful for me to trick my kids into believing I wasn't there, and have them endure years of therapy to reconcile their absentee mother, than to have to print those pictures out and ever look at them again. EVER.

All kidding aside, they were horrifying. According to the bathroom scale, I am at least forty pounds overweight, which in my mental image of myself, translated to "slightly chubby". In photos, well, it translated to something much, MUCH uglier than that. And really, it was the painful prompt I needed to do something about my weight.

So the week we returned from vacation, I started a serious, SERIOUS, no-procrastinating, no excuses, make like Nike and just DO IT NOW, diet and exercise program.

Which lasted for approximately twelve hours.

Because I had so much laundry to do, and I was really, really tired from the drive from Baltimore, and hadn't had a chance to go to the grocery store. So I had to resort to eating whatever was left in the pantry. And the older two kids were at church camp, and then I *still* hadn't gone to the store, so we were eating out quite a bit.

Then you look up and a week's gone by and you've actually (meaning *I've* actually) gained three more pounds. Damn you, brand-new Panera Bread, only ten minutes from my house ::shakes fist at sky::

I vowed THIS week would be it .... THIS is the week I would start. First day of the rest of my life, and all that crap.

Then, in the previous five days, this is the list of excuses I've used not to exercise:

1. Traveling with Blaine.

2. After returning home, tired from traveling with Blaine.

3. It's too early.

4. It's too late.

5. It's too hot.

6. I don't have time to take another shower later today.

7. Sun is too bright and makes my eyes squinty which causes wrinkles. I might be fat, but I don't want to look fat AND old.

8. After exercising one day, I deserve a day off.

9. Legs still hurt from actually exercising one day.

10. Forgot my ipod. Heaven forbid I walk and have to listen to myself THINK for an hour.

11. I have a rash on my ankle.

12. My shoes are squinchy.

13. In a nutshell, I hate it.

So then this morning, driving Kellen to the wellness and strength training/conditioning camp that his school puts on all summer, I saw a man out walking his dog.

Using crutches.

Because he only had ONE LEG.

God, I suck.

Survey Says ...

2009-07-24T00:33:00.003-05:00

Kellen and I were driving down the road today and I saw a survey crew working. You know, those guys that stand on the side of the road in their orange vests with big fancy tri-pod-y cameras, doing whatever survey-y things they do to measure property lines and commercial easements and what have you. My brother-in-law, currently a partner in a surveying firm, started out doing that exact job, years ago, while he was finishing his degree.

As a back story, when we lived in both Alabama and Georgia, it is a common practice for probationers, and sometimes prisoners, to do roadside clean up. Picking up trash near the highway, mowing, weeding, etc. They regularly did the clean-up and maintenance for the entrance to our housing addition, and it was a familiar sight for us to drive home past men in striped jumpsuits, wielding weed eaters and leaf blowers, bus parked nearby with a "Prisoners Working" sign attached, and a gun-wearing warden keeping watch. Although really, if these guys were any kind of high flight-risk, I doubt they would have been allowed out to do the job, right? I always assumed it was the white collar criminals who were allowed out on lawn duty ... the tax evaders, embezzlers, and telemarketing scammers. Surely they wouldn't let rapists and murderers and drug dealers work in my neighborhood, close to me and my children ..... would they????

Anyway, back to my story .....

So I guess it makes sense that when I passed the survey crew, and said to Kellen, "Look, that's what Uncle Cliff used to do" he would naturally reply, with shock and horror in his voice, "Uncle Cliff was IN PRISON?!?!?!"

The experiment (insert evil laugh)

2009-07-21T23:30:00.003-05:00

Thanks for the well wishes for our trip ..... Blaine's procedure went .... well ..... it sort of .... they sort of ..... the doctor ..... you know ..... well ..... it didn't happen. Long, boring story, but bottom line is it's Blaine, the person for whom nothing ever goes as planned, and really, what did you expect? So no "experimental" procedure for us, at least not this time.

The flip side is that he and I got to drive in a car together (NOKIDSNOKIDSNOKIDS) ten hours on Monday and nine hours on Tuesday and eat tons of junk food and talk and laugh and reminisce and talk some more and then eat at Cracker Barrel and order pizza and watch
"13 Going on 30" at the hotel together and did I mention talking and talking and talking and eating junk food and then talking some more and all because there were no kids?

Pretty much the best 36 hour date ever.

Except for the fact my butt had barely recovered from the Baltimore drive and now I fear the indentations from the driver's seat might be permanent.

Other than that, it was nice to be with him.

Layers of Crap

2009-07-20T11:15:00.004-05:00

But thankfully, not bad crap. Just normal-life-crap, which is annoying and frustrating but not freak-out-worthy.

As you read this, Blaine and I are on our way to San Antonio, Texas, for him to have an experimental (experimental to *him*, but not experimental in nature) outpatient procedure, which his pain management doctor hopes will provide him some pain relief. It might, or might not, work, and if it does, there is no way to know in advance how long the relief will last ... hours, days, months. Personally, I'm rooting for "Years to Infinity" but I know Blaine would be happy with just about anything he could get.

Although, he's a little nervous because the first person he talked to said he would be put under IV sedation for the procedure (hence the reason I am going as the required "chaperone") and the second person he talked to said nope, just a local. Neither Blaine nor I believe there is any glory in suffering (which is why if you look up "epidural" in the dictionary, there is my big fat smiling face) so let's cross our fingers the first person was correct.

The bummer part of this procedure is that it is taking place away from home, which means I can't be with my sister for her lumpectomy on Monday. She has a great husband and mother in law and friends who will be there for her, so that's all good. I just hate that I won't be there. You know, what with my extensive oncology background and Honorary Doctorate from the University of This Sucks.

And Grandma Betty won't be with her because she is babysitting all seven grandkids.

With her broken foot.

Yep, good times here.

Winner of RAGE!

2009-07-19T07:13:00.007-05:00

Wait, that doesn't sound right.

And then, because Blogger doesn't actually *number* the comments in the sidebar, I went through and counted .... three times .... because I ~~am OCD~~ wanted to be double-triple sure I got the correct commenter.

Congrats DeborahB!

Deb writes:

"Hmmm...what am I raging about this summer? Daughters with attitudes, bills and money (or lack thereof), probable layoffs at work, moving and leaving all my friends/work/church/family behind. Yeah, that's enough. I was planning on buying this book anyway, so it's ok if I don't win. I love Danny! His blog is one of the funniest out there, next to yours of course!"

Deb is actually a friend of mine (pinkie promise, the random generator was totally random!!) and fellow-surrogate. (Hmmmm. Hope she doesn't mind me putting that out there for the world to know....) She's also the lucky winner of the Dad Gone Mad author Danny Evan's debut memoir, "Rage Against the Meshuganuh".

Ironically, Deb works as some kind of editor/proofreader/copywriter person (I said we were friends, ok? Not identical twins and I know every single microscopic detail about her life!) so probably she would have been a smarter person to give the initial book review than me. But I'm certain she won't enjoy it any more than I did because That's. Just. Not. Possible.

Congrats, Deb!

I'm Raging

2009-07-16T10:44:00.011-05:00

Anyone who has followed this site for any length of time knows that I love to read. And anyone who knows me personally knows that even more than reading, I love to learn about other people's lives and experiences. Some might call that "being a interfering, nosy, busybody" .... I prefer to call it "being a people person" --- whatever. Just hush up about it.

So, when I got an invitation to review **this book**

written by Danny Evans of Dad Gone Mad,

I was all, "Score!! Both my favorite pastimes at once!! Reading, and being a meddlesome snoop!!" And, I might have felt just a wee bit smug and superior and sanctimonious that I was receiving an advance copy of the book before it was available to the rest of ~~you peasants~~ the world. You know, because I'm gracious and humble like that.

Regardless, the book showed up a few weeks ago, and I devoured it in one sitting. As in, I pretty much sat up one night after my kids went to bed so I could read it uninterrupted, from start to finish. And I laughed .... oh! How I laughed! Despite tackling a difficult subject matter, Danny managed to poke fun at himself the entire time and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I knew my review would wait a few weeks, so I put the book up on my bookshelf, and continued to giggle whenever I thought of certain passages. Like "Coach Danny's T-Ball Rules" in chapter 34 --- seriously, funny stuff.

Then, as the time came closer for me to write my review, I read it again, more slowly, and paid closer attention. Really tried to absorb the experience Danny has so bravely shared of his struggle with "male" depression ... a topic not often discussed as candidly as it is here. I think I might have enjoyed it even more the second time around, because I was really, truly, "listening" .... if that even makes sense.

Regardless! It is a great book, and I highly recommend it to everyone.**

In an effort to help Danny promote it, I sent him a list of stupid questions that I wanted him to answer .... like pouring his blood, sweat and tears into the book wasn't enough, I wanted him to write more for ME personally. If nothing else, it will give you a great perspective on the attitude and personality that he shares with us in the book. One which I, personally, am happy I got to know. After the interview, continue reading for a fab give-away .....

********************************************

1. You talk about your parent's desire to make you the ultimate Hebrew student and possibly even a rabbi .... I know very little about rabbis except that some of them have those long strands of hair above their ears and they seem to be very wise. One thing I *do* know for sure, however, is that all rabbis have super powers, like Batman and Superman. So had you ever become a rabbi, what would your superpower have been, and why?

I'm fairly certain I would have been able to summon the voice of God through my farts. I would also be able to turn invisible. My greatest trick would be combining these two gifts---farting and disappearing simultaneously, which would cause everyone in the congregation to assume that the blue-haired woman in the front row was the one of ass-blasted. Amen.

2. I also know very little about Jewish customs or food, and the concept of "keeping kosher" confuses me .... like this one time, some friends and I were in a deli, and apparently it was Jewish, because I asked for a ham and cheese sandwich and you would have thought I just spit on the floor or something, the way that women behind the counter looked at me, but then what was even more confusing to me was the waitress came up to our table while my friend was giving her baby a bottle and asked my friend if there was milk in the bottle and my friend (truthfully) said no, it was formula, and apparently that was allowed but I've always wondered what would have happened if it had been milk? Would they have made her put the bottle up? Made the baby go hungry? What if it had been breast-milk in the bottle? Does that count? Anyway, very confusing. So my question to you is, if you were inviting a goy like me to dinner and wanted to serve the best kosher meal ever, what would it be? Because clearly I can't have a ham and cheese sandwich and a glass of milk.

Breast milk.
Gefilte fish.
Matzo ball soup.
Corned beef sandwiches.
Beer.
Breast milk sorbet.

3. What was the coolest, most innovative product you ever advertised at Outside the Box?

We had a start-up, dot-com client whose site was designed to blend golf with the caution-to-the-wind, money's-no-object attitude of the late 80s and early 90s. I don't remember specifically what the site actually sold, but I have a clear recollection that the senior management of this "company" were total marketing cowboys. They wanted to put their logo and URL on EVERYTHING. I remember very specifically a meeting during which we all discussed the merits of putting that logo on what those in the sanitation industry call "urinal burgers." For the uninitiated, those are the little, round, pink antiseptic discs placed in the middle of a urinal. We ultimately decided against the idea, given that the notion of having the company peed-on seemed a little...unbecoming.

4. As evidence by the list on page 120 of your book, you had a pretty dismal athletic career right from the get-go. But imagine if things had been different ... imagine if those Little League dreams of yours had come true, and had played out into high school ball, college ball, and beyond. Let me hear the abbreviated version of your Hall of Fame acceptance speech.

"Today (ay-ay-ay)...I feel (eel-eel-eel)...like the luckiest motherfucker (ucker-ucker-ucker)...on earth (rth-rth-rth). I would like to thank my friend Kristie (istie-istie-istie)...without whose demented brain and sick sense of irony I would just be sitting at home playing with my balls (alls-alls-alls). I would also like to thank my balls (alls-alls-alls)...for letting me play with them all the time (ime-ime-ime)."

And so forth.

5. Speaking of sports, you mention in the book that many Jewish athletes play baseball, but very few play basketball. Why do you think that is? Surely you're not the only tall Jewish man on the planet?

We're a pretty hairy lot of blokes in general and that has a really bad effect on our aerodynamics and athleticism. Only the shaved survive.

6. You talk openly about your habit of using humor as a shield and reflector for unpleasant experiences in your life. Imagine you had taken comedy a step farther and turned it into a career. What would your stage comedian name have been, and what professional comedian would you want to work with?

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage...Mister! Sheky! Goldfarb!

I would have wanted to work with Dad Gone Mad. He fucking rules.

7. On page 180 of your book you claim at the end of 9th grade you were voted "Most Likely To Die Without Ever Having Kissed a Girl That Wasn't His Mom." If you were to go back to your next high school reunion, what do you think you would be voted now?

Most Likely To Offer A Perfect Stranger Hand Relief In Exchange For That Stranger Purchasing A Copy Of His Book, RAGE AGAINST THE MESHUGENAH, Which Will Be Released On August 4 And Is Available For Pre-Order On Amazon.com And Other Online Book Retailers.

8. On to the meat of the book, your struggle with depression. In the time since you were first diagnosed, until the release of your book, how do you believe the public opinion and acceptance of this issue has changed? What needs to happen in the future?

Sadly, I don't think a lot has changed. We've certainly seen an increase in the number of antidepressant medications advertised on television and in magazines, but I don't believe that does much to increase awareness of the disease itself. Mental health issues in general, and depression in particular, remain a dirty little secret for millions of Americans. I think an open, honest, direct discussion about depression needs to find its way into parts of the population -- in particular, men -- that haven't yet found the guts or the inclination to talk about it. That's part of what I hope to accomplish with RAGE. Whether we talk about it or not, it's there. And until we shine a light on it, it will remain under the dark cloud of stigma and ignorance.

9. You talk about the men in your life (friends, neighbors, co-workers) who you discovered had also struggled with depression. Have you had any experiences with total strangers coming up to you and relating their own occurrence with depression?

Not face-to-face, but certainly online. Interestingly, I've had quite a few women write to me with admissions that their husbands are depressed and they're at a loss in terms of how to help them. This same scenario played out in my own home, which I detail in the book. To those women, I say that the best thing they can do is to help their husbands get the help of a therapist and/or a psychiatrist as soon as possible. Depression is disorienting, and people don't always understand what's happening to themselves. As the spouse, you can play an active role in moving him (or her) in the direction of recovery.

10. What's your opinion of celebrities using their "celebrity-ness" either FOR the awareness of depression (Brooke Shields comes to mind) or AGAINST (I'm pretty sure we both know what couch-jumping freak I'm referring to ....)

I'm all for anyone who raises the public awareness of depression, and I'm certainly all for any dipshit movie star who tries to make a case AGAINST medical treatment by demonstrating his own dire need for anti-psychotic medication. I would really like to see a male celebrity who has suffered from depression -- and there are MANY -- come out and say, "I was depressed. I got help. So should you." Men need to see a normal guy come out of the shadows, even if some deem that to be uncool or career suicide.

11. Final question: A statement on page 228 of the book, discussing the birth of your daughter, really resonated with me: "Grace under pressure is not close to the top of Danny's Personal Strengths." I realize in context that statement was meant to be funny, but it got me to wondering. You've not only survived unemployment, serious depression, and addiction, but you've managed, with this amazing book, to share that journey in a way that is honest, touching, introspective, educational, and downright hysterical. Having arrived where you are today, what strengths would you say ARE near the top of the list?

I would say that I've become quite adept at pimping my book.

******************************************************

See? See why you should buy this book? Trust me, this is only a hint of the humor and honesty that is between the covers of RAGE.

I was so excited when I first heard about the book that I rushed over to Amazon.com and pre-ordered my own copy. Then Danny asked me to review the book and sent me an advance copy. (You see where this is going, right?) When the release date arrives (August 4th) I will receive my copy from Amazon, and while I freely confess to being a greedy little shrew, I don't neeeeeeeeeeed two copies of the book. So I'd like to offer my paid, Amazon copy to one (randomly drawn, of course) reader/winner who leaves a comment in the comment section here.

Simply leave a comment about your own RAGE, and what it is you're Raging against this summer. For me, it's the humidity that turns my hair into a dandelion, that some moron in Hollywood changed the movie ending to My Sister's Keeper, and the sad fact that it will be a while before I can read Danny's second book, whatever it is, and whenever he decides to write it. I realize my own "rages" are frivolous and lame when compared to the topic of serious depression, but it was the best idea I had this morning (and please no rude comments about how sadly, it might be the best idea I have all day, week, month, etc.)

Let me know what you're Raging against by leaving a comment -- entries closed by 9pm CST Saturday night. I'll draw a winner and announce it here on Sunday ... then once the second copy of my book comes in, I will send the copy to the winner.

In the meantime, head over to

Amazon.com to pre-order your copy of "Rage" ... or look for it in bookstores after August 4th. If that link doesn't work, just go to Amazon and do a search for "Rage Against the Meshugenah" .... it pops up, I promise. Assuming you spell meshugenah correctly, which I did not the first two times I tried. Or just go to Danny's site and follow the prompts from there. Trust me, you'll be glad you did.

**OK, here's my teeny-tiny disclaimer. At times, the language in this book can be a little strong. Personally, I find it fucking hilarious and am not at all offended. Assuming you're one of the many who already follows Dad Gone Mad, you probably already know this. But I recommended a different book to someone earlier this year and she felt the language was bad and I was all, "Language? What language? Was there bad language in the book?" so perhaps I am just a little obscenity-obtuse and not the person who should be serving as Potty-Mouth Patrol Officer. So with that in mind ... just a little heads up here.

Parting Shots

2009-07-15T13:30:00.006-05:00

Updated to add: Bob, I have to come to the room steward's defense and assure you she never went through our drawers ... I left that shirt out on the bed. And, us chubby girls wear long-sleeve shirts tied around our waists, even in the Caribbean, because we like to think it helps hide our tummies. Just don't ask me to turn around and see what it does to my behind. :)

**********************************************

Final photos from the cruise, then I'll hush up about it.

Although I would hardly call myself any kind of world traveler, I had still never seen this on a cruise ship before. Once I got over the creep factor, it made me laugh.

Still does.

The work of our room steward on the final night of the cruise:

Final Vacation Thoughts

2009-07-13T20:06:00.004-05:00

We drove 23 straight hours from Baltimore to OKC to arrive home yesterday morning, so I could unpack, do eight loads of laundry (which sadly, wasn't all of it) and re-pack for church camp this morning.

My tailbone will never be the same.

And now, my house is missing two-thirds of its little people, and is way too quiet.

In the meantime, I think I shall finish the laundry. And nap. And wonder just where my personal waiter and cook and room steward have gone. Because although I certainly appreciate Blaine bringing home pizza last night, he most certainly did NOT put my napkin in my lap and quite frankly, I'm a little bitter.

Vacation Day Ten - Labadee, Haiti

2009-07-11T14:29:00.004-05:00

Royal Caribbean advertises Labadee as their "private" island ... which is really a beach ... which I have no idea if its private or not. I just know that one day the ship pulled up, dropped anchor, and tendered a bunch of us off for a day of sunning, playing, eating, and dodging the unbelievably pushy and aggressive vendors in the local marketplace.

There is a water park you can play in, and a ginormous slide you can go down, which was sort of funny because its advertised as an "Aqua" Slide and according to the reservation information you must be able to swim to buy tickets which makes sense because according to the photo on the website the slide shoots you off into the ocean which would be AWESOME except it totally doesn't happen. It sits on sand and unless there's a possibility you will be knocked unconscious on the way down and then drown in the inch and a half of water at the bottom, I really don't see drowning as a possibility. Regardless, it was a blast and I went down it four times, so you know it had to be fun if I was willing to climb the damn stairs to top four separate times ....... really, would an elevator for those of us over the age of forty be too much to ask????

An overall view of the water park, which is really not too great a view because I haven't splurged for a wide-angle lens .....

They had teeter totters:

Humongous trampolines, close to ten feet high:

Slides, that really DID dump you into the ocean, which was awesome until you remembered you had your brand-new sunglasses on your face because you are a dumbass (oh wait, that would be ME):

A balance beam type obstacle, with a barrel roll in the middle, which was a hoot to watch because kids have no sense of pride when it comes to falling off something, over and over and over:

These bizarre float-y running mats, which the kids used for racing and sliding and jousting and all sorts of balanc-y nonsense:

An overall view of the "Aqua" slide, which did not involve water at all unless you count the water hose at the top, and the water hose at the bottom which the guy used to get the sand off your feet:

Kendrie, enjoying her trip down:

Kellen, who is clearly concerned with his overall form:

Brayden, getting the most of the spray at the end .... by this point in the day it was about one hundred and fifty degrees, so climbing the steps to get the cool water at the bottom was not unreasonable:

Blaine, trying to look as cool as possible while keeping water from shooting into his ear and out his nose:

And me. Hello, cleavage!

Primarily, I learned four very important lessons on this day.

1. To get up on the trampolines and slides and climbing, floating toys requires an inordinate amount of upper body strength.

2. I do not have an inordinate amount of upper body strength.

3. Sometimes resting at the top was required, before I could summon the energy to hurl my body towards the water and then swim to the next obstacle. While I was very "Survivor" in my mind, I'm afraid I was very "Wipe Out" in my actual performance.

4. That Blaine is probably the smartest one of us all.

Day Nine of Vacation - Samana, Domican Republic

2009-07-10T15:37:00.009-05:00

A few things that have interfered with my “photo and update a day while on vacation” plan:

1. Wi-fi access is limited to a few select locations on the cruise ship.
2. Only one of those places on the entire ship, the library, has electrical outlets.
3. My computer battery died twice in some of the other locations, an obvious clue that I was spending too much time reading the blogs I’m missing while gone and googling Toxic Audio.
4. Those obnoxious teenagers showed up twice more when I was in the library and I kept leaving, going to places without outlets, computer dying …. Clearly a vicious cycle.
5. I've spent all morning each day at the all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet.
6. I've spent the days doing fun water activities with my kids.
7. I've spent the late afternoons going through the photos Blaine has taken with the camera, aghast at my own image in a swimsuit, appalled at how much weight I've actually gained in the last year ..... the proof right there in pictures.
8. I've spent each night consoling myself at the all-you-can-eat dessert buffet.
9. Um………… I got lazy.

So, a few days late, but here is our day in Samana in pictures:

We took a speedboat (and having actually traveled in a speedboat previously, I use the term loosely ...) to take a cave and mangrove tour with our friends. After all, why did God make caves if not to have small tourists pay money to climb all over the rocks?

As the boat went nearer the caves, all I could think was that the roots on these trees creeped me the hell out. I got a little claustrophobic just looking at them and imagining being caught in them ....... ick.

We toured the caves looking at stalagtites and stalagmites (bonus points for me, I actually remember the difference from junior high) and cave carvings and paintings. This one is a pretty accurate depiction of how I feel most mornings before my first glass of chocolate milk.

These two have been friends since their mothers discovered one another at a Mother's Club in Ohio and put their six-month old butts on the same blanket to stare at one another and drool on each other's toys. Neither time nor distance seems to damper their friendship, and I hope nothing ever does .... Here's to the next eleven years, ok, J?

Then, of course, doing what we've done best this entire time .... eating.

The second half of the day was spent at Cayo Levantado Bay, playing in the water and "diving" for shells and treasures.

A view of the beach area.

My kids, having snorkeled for the first time ever the day before, were of course experts at this point and lamented the lack of marine wildlife to explore ..... but they certainly enjoyed collecting rocks and coral (?) and sea glass (?) I keep putting those question marks because for all I know they were digging up trash, but it made them happy, so I kept quiet.

And of course the most fun part of the day, pitting your 78-lb body against the force of Mother Nature, in the form of waves .... which constantly knock you over, forcing salt water up your nose and in your mouth because you are laughing, yet you just keep doing it over and over ....

And the true highlight of each cruise evening, seeing which towel animal our room steward has left for us before bed. We've had a bat, swan, scorpion, monkey, alligator, pig, and one which we are *pretty sure* was a turtle.

Only I .....

2009-07-07T09:20:00.002-05:00

.... could bring a Styrofoam Sonic cup all the way from Oklahoma, traveling thousands of miles with it, hoarding it like the treasure it is, smuggling it onto the cruise ship, visions of non-sweaty diet drinks all week on the cruise ship dancing through my head, only to have our room steward throw it away the very first night.

...... could buy my children waterproof disposable cameras, and then forget them in the cabin on the day we go snorkeling.

.... would ask my mother to accompany us on this cruise, not knowing at the time that she would be diagnosed with breast cancer only weeks before we traveled, so then in my mind, turning this trip into a relaxing convalescence for her .... resting .... relaxing .... recovering from the breast cancer treatment she just completed ......

and then sit back and watch while she breaks her freaking foot falling into a dingy.

X-rays and casting from the ship's doctor a bonus!!

I'm a ROCKING good daughter, aren't I????

And now, wouldn't YOU like to travel with the Escoes on our next vacation??? Sign ups now!

Vacation Day Eight - St. Thomas

2009-07-06T20:53:00.007-05:00

So, today basically consisted of eating, sailing, snorkeling, eating again, sailing again, and eating again. At no time was any of the following involved: make-up, hairbrushes, shoes with laces, or even a nano-second of hunger. As far as *that* goes, a pretty good day.

Excited, but a little nervous about snorkeling for the first time.

We saw fish, of course, crabs, and even a sting-ray. Not sure if its common to see sting rays while snorkeling, but considering we're from Oklahoma, it was pretty cool to us. And then we were basically swimming right above it, and Brayden and I both like, "Wow, look at this!" and then we sort of realized what we were doing and got kind of Steve-Irwin-freaked-out and then swam as fast as we could in the other direction, which wasn't really that fast, because I never did get the hang of those stupid flippers.

Of course, as far as Brayden is concerned, the animals above the water are just as fascinating.

Before the sail back, we were served what had to be the best meal any of us have ever had in our lives .... and considering we've been served on a cruise ship for the past five days, I think that's saying something.

Then it was time for jumping off the front of the sailboat, but the kids were a little nervous so I agreed to jump in first and wait for them all in the water. I'm not sure why, unless they figured I was a bigger target for sharks and they could possibly make it back to the boat while I battled my way to safety. Hmmmmm, sneaky kids.

Learning to sail the boat, and be a Rastafarian, all at the same time.

Best news of all, no one puked over the side, fell overboard, or was shit on by a bat.

Vacation Day Seven - San Juan

2009-07-05T22:20:00.005-05:00

Photos of the Day:

Ocean Park Beach, San Juan.

Kellen's best comment of the day, in the water, while squealing like a girl: "I just stepped on a log! Or it might have been a shark!!"

Brayden's best comment of the day, also spoken while in water: "The ocean is ok -- I like swimming in it. I just don't like the salt water. Or how gritty the sand is. Or the waves."

Kristie: "So basically you would prefer a lake?"

Brayden: "Um, yeah."

PS. And I realize that is not a photo of Brayden, but she wore a 2-piece today and the teeny tiny part of me that is internet-savvy-protective-mother-beware didn't see any on my memory card that would be appropriate to share with the internet .....

Is it completely obvious that I photoshopped some wave-action over my butt? To cover a large portion of it and make it appear smaller? No? Good, I was trying to be discreet.

This picture explains a lot. Ever since we got on the cruise people have been approaching me, asking for my autograph and to have their photo taken with me. I simply *assumed* it was my fame from this blog ... I mean, I have at least a dozen loyal readers, so CLEARLY that's where I was being recognized from, right? Then, I saw this picture, and it dawned on me ------ people are obviously confusing me with Bo Derek. I mean, have you ever seen a person look more like her in that movie "10"? Coming out of the water? In that bathing suit?? I mean, sure, I don't have the cornrows, and my suit isn't shiny or anything, but beyond that, the resemblence is uncanny. Almost eerie. I'll probably have to hire bodyguards and a PR team soon.

More Photos of the Day:

OK, seriously. How many people can say they've toured San Juan? In the rain? On segways???? Despite the humidity, and the bats, this totally rocked, and my kids gave it two thumbs up, so I am feeling quite smug about my performance as tour planner this evening.

"Look Ma, no hands!"

Total, best, funniest, most hysterical moment of the day:

During the segway tour, when a bat shit on Blaine. I mean really, does it get any funnier than that?

Vacation Day Six - At Sea

2009-07-04T23:59:00.003-05:00

Comment of the Day:

"Mom, why don't you cut up our fruit like that?"

Activities of the Day:

Shuffleboard:

Rock Climbing:

Vacation Day Five - At Sea

2009-07-03T19:53:00.005-05:00

Photo of the Day:

You know you're officially on a cruise when .....

...the towel animals start showing up in your room at night.

Comment of the Day:

Blaine: "So, you think a whole Dramamine was maybe too much?"

Kristie, two hours later: "She's still sleeping, so I'd say yes."*

Most annoying moment of the entire cruise:

Right now, with this group of obnoxious teenagers who have come into the library where the rest of us are either reading silently or working on our computers, and they've parked themselves in the comfy chairs and are having a grand ole, NOISY time, talking and laughing and being stupid and one of them (honest, I'm not even joking) just announced very loudly that "The Butthole Surfers are, like, a LEGENDARY band!" They're rudely interrupting my peace and quiet .... for that?!?!?

*Thankfully, the whole Dramamine seemed to work, as she woke up and hasn't had any trouble since.

Vacation Day Four - Baltimore

2009-07-02T21:17:00.004-05:00

Response of the Day: Yes, we were on Skyline Drive in the Shenandoah National Forest. Which I **think** was beautiful, but I couldn't be sure, what with the pouring rain and all.

Photo(s) of the Day:

"Look! We made it onto the ship without anyone killing anyone! It's a true vacation miracle!!"

"Moooo-ooom, I thought you said this trip was going to be fun and exciting .... this life jacket drill thing is stupid and boring ...."

"Shut up kids, we paid a lot of money for this trip and you're going to enjoy every minute of it, even the stupid muster drill. Now zip it and smile for the camera."

Why yes, of course, we always find a way to combine learning opportunities with our fun ..... here are the kids in the Science Lab in the Kids' Club on the ship ... learning .... expanding their little brains .... growing intellectually ..... oh, who am I kidding? The worker guy said he was going to blow something up and the kids wouldn't let us leave.

Comment of the Day:

Kristie: "Yes, Kellen, I understand the Kids' Club is a very cool place, and you can come back later. But now it's time for dinner so we need to leave."

Kellen: (long, exasperated, weary sigh of a person who is tired of traveling: "Ugh, how far do we have to drive to dinner?"

Kristie: "You do realize we're on a ship, don't you?"

Vacation Day Three - Virginia

2009-07-01T10:01:00.004-05:00

Comment of the Day:

Kristie: “It’s a gigantic forest, for Pete’s sake …. A National Park …. Not some magical, secret forest! Just how hard can it be to find the entrance???”

Grandma Betty, approximately one hour (and three gas stations of help later): “Apparently pretty hard.”

And when you FINALLY find the entrance, and pay fifteen dollars to drive through, anticipating hiking and waterfalls and scenic overlooks? And it rains the entire way? Well, normal people might be disappointed. But *normal* people don’t often stumble across a mama bear and her twin cubs foraging for food less than ten feet from their car.

Vacation Day Two

2009-06-30T20:20:00.003-05:00

Photo of the Day:

There is no sweeter sight to parents anywhere, especially when only half-way through a three-day road trip.

Comment of the Day:

Kellen, as we pull up to a gas station and prepare to get out: "Dad, don't open the door! I don't have any pants on!!"

Everyone else, in reply: "Whaaaaaat?!?!?"

Vacation Day One

2009-06-29T21:01:00.006-05:00

Photo of the Day:

Look at those shining, smiling, happy faces. No tears, no fighting, no arguing, no complaining. Nothing but enthusiasm and excitement and cooperation.

Of course, we hadn't even backed out of the driveway yet, but we were definitely off to a good start.

Comment of the Day:

Kristie: "How's it going out there? Is Dad getting the suitcases up in the luggage carrier ok?"

Kendrie: "Yeah, um. Well, he's cussing .... a LOT."

Thought of the Day:

There are no friends like dear friends who you don't get to see NEAR often enough. Rena', thanks to you and your kids for meeting us for dinner and ice cream ..... I still miss our glory days in Georgia .... all girlfriends, all the time.

Photo(s) of the Day, Vacation Day T-1 (AKA, We're off to a rip-roaring good start!)

2009-06-28T21:50:00.006-05:00

So, I was getting ready tonight to drive to Wal-Mart to buy some last minute items for our trip. One of the things I needed to buy was new shorts for Blaine. Because despite the fact we have been planning this trip for almost two YEARS, do you know when he informed me that he needed new shorts??? This morning.

Of course he did.

But that's really alright because I needed to buy snacks and drinks for the van, and pick up some travel toiletries (blah blah)

Here's our van as I headed out to Wal-Mart, all gassed up and ready to be loaded with suitcases:

It's such a promising photo, isn't it? Brimming with hope and anticipation for a fun family vacation ..... driving half way cross the country, sing-alongs, the license plate game .... ahhhh, good times.

Wait.

What's that?

What's that funny looking scrape on the luggage carrier???

Ohhhhhhhhhh, THAT would be from where I tried to drive into the garage with the luggage carrier on top of the van tonight.

Because I'm a MORON.

Yep, vacation's off to a great start.

All the suitcases are packed, the snacks and drinks are purchased, ice chest is ready to go. Assuming I can go the next ten hours without burning down my house, stepping on a scorpion, or ripping my hand off in an unfortunate Magic Bullet incident, I think we're good to go.

Dear anyone I've ever met in my life before,

2009-06-27T21:34:00.005-05:00

I feel as though I possibly owe you an apology.

Specifically, if I met you during the years of 1985 through 1997, and said anything at all, made one comment or even a single statement, about parenting, child-rearing, discipline, control, obedience, or parental authority. Because I did not yet have children, and although I was unaware of it at the time, I was clearly TALKING OUT OF MY ASS.

I attended a scrapbook retreat this weekend with about twenty women who were all friendly, cheerful, lovely. However, as is often the case in life (or more specifically, at scrapbook retreats where tables are lined up next to one another) some people talk more loudly than others, and when you are in close proximity to other people's conversations, you (meaning ME) sometimes cannot help but overhear.

Earlier today, I ~~eavesdropped~~ couldn't help but hear a conversation between two women, one who had children, and one who was a newlywed and did not have children. The conversation, which wound up and down and around for probably close to an hour, consisted of the child-less newlywed telling the other woman how she and her husband had already had many discussions and come to complete agreement about how they would raise their children. The things they would allow, the things they would not allow. Behaviors that would be tolerated, behaviors that would not, child rearing techniques that were pre-approved and those that were already dismissed as crap.

The other woman was only too eager to chime in as a parental "authority". She spoke volumes about her experience raising her children, and what she had decreed to be "right" and "wrong" in the field of parenting. She discussed at great length the successes she has had, the challenges she has faced, the trials of raising happy, obedient, curious children, and the overwhelming joy she takes in knowing she has done her job well. The age of her oldest child? Five.

I listened to this conversation .... to the claims and comments about "My child won't..." and "My child will ...." and "I will never ..." and "I will always ..." and I swear, my eyes rolled so far back in my head I could see my own tramp stamp.

Then I started laughing because holy cow, they sounded so ridiculous, and I'm sure I used to sound just like them!

I looked over at my girlfriend Alisa, herself the mother of four, who laughed with me and whispered, "Just wait. She'll be blessed with a 'spirited' child and will have to eat every word." Actually, what she said was, "Just watch. She'll get one just like Luke." Luke is Alisa's third-born and although *I* think he is delightful, Alisa promises he is a handful.

Now, I make no claim to be a child-rearing expert. As I type this, one child is eating Sweet Tarts for dinner (at 9:30 at night, after returning home from a birthday swim party where I forgot to send sunscreen). Another child is on the sofa, watching television, butt naked, because clothes are "too much work". And the third child has gone to her room to pout, angry with me, because *she* had to pay a fine because *her* library books were late.

Clearly, I have room for improvement in the parenting-skills arena. And I know these women will most likely come to realize the same things about themselves some day.

I'm not even sure I'll have the hang of this parenting gig by the time they're eighteen and off to college, but as long as they're off to college and not in jail I'll consider it at least a moderate success. (touch wood, please no jail!)

So to anyone who might have been caught in the crossfire of me and my delusional parenting plans and expertise -- you know, the expertise I had BEFORE I had kids -- I'm truly sorry.

To Do List

2009-06-25T05:09:00.001-05:00

UPDATED TO ADD:

Elaine, yes, I could use some information on San Juan! We are scheduled for a segway tour the evening we are there, but have a few hours to kill beforehand, during the afternoon. The segway girl recommended we go to Ocean Park, but I'm having trouble figuring out if that's a public beach, or a private community, and if we can catch a taxi there. What would YOU recommend for about three hours, on a weekday, during the late afternoon, that wouldn't take us tooooooo far from the cruise ship pier? Thanks!!
*****************************************************

So, we're leaving on vacation in just a few days, and I am in full panic mode. I've gone beyond the casual list-making of "Wow, I still have a lot to do" into the full-fledged "Holy shit, how many things am I forgetting?" zone.

I hesitated about how much info to post here regarding our trip. Blog safety consciousness everywhere dictates you simply DON'T put that information out there on the web ..... might as well rent a neon sign to put in front of your house advertising to any and all prospective burglars that the house is empty with no one standing guard.**

So I considered not posting ... but then, if my blog suddenly went dormant for fourteen days in a row, wouldn't that be kind of big clue, as well? I mean, you guys would assume I was on vacation ... or in jail.

And no way am I organized enough to pre-post fourteen days' worth of blog entries and then at the end be all, "Surprise! I'm back! You didn't even know I was gone but I'm back!!" Yeah, none of you would fall for that.

And you know what else? I *want* to blog about my vacation while I'm on it. Not because I think anyone else really gives a rats ass (although if you DO, how nice is that for me?) but because its a much more convenient way for me to collect my thoughts and memories and tales on a daily basis, and then use that for my personal scrapbooking later.

So ..... here goes:

BURGLARS OF THE WORLD, ATTENTION!!!

We are leaving next Monday for vacation --- the teeny tiny part of me that isn't hyperventilating in the corner for fear I will forget our passports, or we'll drive off and leave the suitcase with all the medicines in the garage, or someone will fall overboard, or we'll over stay our excursion and the cruise ship will leave us in Haiti, or we'll all catch some Caribbean version of the swine flu ..... well except for those minor concerns which are keeping me up at night, panic stricken and anxiety ridden .... except for those things, I'm really excited about it.

We are traveling with two other families, ten kids altogether, plus Grandma Betty. I think Grandma Betty thinks we only invited her for some free babysitting, which is totally not true, unless maybe one night there's a really good R-rated comedian or something on the ship, and then ok, maybe it would be convenient if she would take the kids on in to bed .... but mostly, its just because we like her company.

The kids are ecstatic ... they've never cruised, they can't wait to try snorkeling, we've chartered a private sailboat one day for just the six of us, they love the ocean, they love the beach, and Kellen was pretty much sold once he found out there is unlimited soda on the ship.

Blaine is in full "Oh, you just manage all the details, I completely trust you" mode ..... which I both appreciate and resent.

As for me, when I'm not stressing out that I'm going to forget something, or updating my to-do list, or crossing things off my to-do list as already done .... I'm giving a valiant effort to get as much done ahead of time as possible.

A variety of clothes, for a variety of situations, for five people, for fourteen days, with zero laundry facilities in the interim .... is a little intimidating. The situation is complicated by the fact that approximately twelve hours after we return home, my older two kids are leaving for a five-day church camp. Which means I will have to unpack the car, do laundry, and help them re-pack .... **probably** during the middle of the night, groggy eyed, grumpy, and still hopped up on caffeine from the 22-hour drive home.

So, a list of The Top Ten Things I discovered tonight, while ~~demanding~~ ~~begging~~ ~~forcing~~ ~~threatening~~ helping my children select their car clothes, daytime cruise clothes, dinner cruise clothes, formal dinner cruise clothes, swimsuits, pajamas, shoes, and undergarments:

1. NO-ONE in my family has fourteen days worth of underwear.

2. Kellen has not a single pair of dress socks to his name and has apparently been wearing athletic socks with his church shoes for months now, un-noticed by me.

3. Two of my three children do not have fourteen days worth of socks. The only reason it doesn't matter for the other child is because she lives in flip flops.

4. Kendrie despises dresses with every bone in her body.

5. When told she will wear a dress for formal night(s) or stay in the cabin during dinner (hello, Grandma Betty, looks like we'll put you to work after all!) she has to really think about it. The jury is still out on which she will choose.

6. The only way she will consider a dress with an itchy bodice is if she can wear an undershirt.

7. If you don't have an undershirt, taking scissors and cutting the arms and neck out of a plain white t-shirt will suffice, although after you have made the cuts is when she will tell you that's the shirt she normally wears with her pajama bottoms and you'll be screwed anyway.

8. My 12-yr old has cuter shoes than I do.

9. My 11-yr old was extremely helpful during the packing process, even voluntarily running downstairs to get his shoes and reminding me to pack him a belt. Hmmmmm. Something's up.

10. There's no way I'm doing this without forgetting something. Something big .... something important .... probably one of my kids. Or to pick up Grandma Betty the first morning on our way out of town.

**Burglars, ok, you really should know .... there is an alarm on our house. The dogs will still be here, inside most of the time. While the golden would simply lick your face off, the lab is actually pretty pissy if he doesn't know you. We found a camel cricket in the garage tonight, so take your chances with the mutant insects that might attack you. We really don't have anything good to steal, anyway. My sister and nephews will be here on and off the entire time, feeding the dogs and cat, bringing in the mail, mowing the lawn, etc. Since they live half an hour away, they intend to use our house as "home base" during these two weeks and will actually be here quite a bit, perhaps even overnight. Did I mention her husband is a volunteer sheriff's deputy and carries a gun???

I'm just saying ......

Last Week's SPT Challenge

2009-06-24T04:38:00.006-05:00

Since I forgot to do last week's SPT Challenge, which, according to Lelly of Lelly's Musings was to "bring the indoors outdoors for the summer" .... here we go:

ME (or at least my foot, so proof that I was actually there) going outdoors for various summer activities. I'm sure it comes as no surprise to anyone who knows me, that I much prefer my air conditioned house ... or the air conditioned mall .... or the air conditioned grocery store ..... or worst case scenario, my air conditioned car, on days when the temperature is anything over 85. The weather channel says triple digits the past two weeks ..... so dude, its been hot. Sticky, sweaty, why-bother-with-make-up, thank-goodness-for-pony-tail-holders, my-bra-is-soaking-wet-that's-disgusting kind of hot.

Needless to say, I've tried to have my "outdoors" involve water as much as possible.

SPT Challenge June 23

2009-06-23T08:38:00.010-05:00

As per Lelly of Lelly's Musings, the self-portrait challenge for the month of June is as follows:

"your challenge for june is to find your way back. no matter what's been keeping you from blogging, each week you are going to find one small hurdle to overcome. one item to cross off of your to-do list. one pile to declutter. one meal to prepare. one (or ten) pounds to lose.

one thing each week that will bring you to your blog. too vague? don't worry. i have parameters!!

tuesday, june 9 meal-planning/preparations or other organized family time

tuesday, june 16 bringing the indoors outdoors for summer

tuesday, june 23 tackle a very unpleasant cleaning task

tuesday, june 30 i feel better already!"

Cleaning tasks, or cleaning in general, is what I consider a necessary evil in life. I don't like to live in filth, so I clean my house. Not as thoroughly or as often as other people might clean theirs, but enough that child protective services doesn't knock on our door to investigate rumors of squalid living conditions. Sometimes I've been known to invite people over for dinner just so I have motivation to clean, and if I get a hint of a whiff of news that company is about to drop in unexpectedly, I will hit the furniture with a Pledge wipe and fists of fury.

But overall ..... meh, its just something that has to be done. I feel no great sense of satisfaction or pride when the job is completed, and normally just want to have it done so I can move on to more fun things, like facebooking or scrapbooking or my guilty pleasure, watching Tim Hawkins videos on You Tube.

A few chores, however, that I *do* deem unpleasant:

Anything involving vomit, be it human or animal.

Anything involving poop, be it human or animal.

Anything involving blood, be it human or animal.

Anything involving bugs, period.

The past few weeks we have been victims of a particularly virulent ant infestation. Primarily located (but not limited to) the kitchen. Teeny tiny black sugar ants. (Is that what they're called? Sugar ants? Because that's where Blaine kept finding them.... in the sugar canister.) We've smacked, we've smooshed, we've drowned in the kitchen sink. Blaine has purchased bug spray and sprayed the kitchen enough times in the past month that we'll probably all grow a third foot or start to glow or something. And yet they return. And multiply.

The final straw came this week when we found them in our pantry. Specifically, in an open box of Corn Pops. And, crawling all over the bottom shelf.

I've drawn circles around all the little critters, to give you an appreciation for their number. And to give you an appreciation for the gasp of shock and outrage and disgust that spewed forth from my body when I discovered them. I mean, they're just ants, not those ginormous Amazon cockroaches or anything. But to find them in your food?? .... that you eat?? ..... with your own mouth?? ..... ewwwwwwwww.

And ps, I realize this is supposed to be a SELF-portrait, but you'll just have to imagine that you can actually *see* the shock and outrage and disgust, because that's the part of me that was oozing into the picture ....

Needless to say, the exterminator came yesterday.

But in the meantime, the unpleasant task of cleaning out the pantry .... fell to Blaine. Of course it did ..... would you expect any different?

*********************************************
PS. Lelly announced a summer (?) hiatus on her blog today ..... selfishly, my first thought was, "How will I get my SPT Challenges if she's not updating?" Let's hope she continues to update at least weekly, or I'll have to think up my own SPT Challenges and you'll wind up with weekly pictures of me taking one relative or the other to the oncologist, because that's about all I do anymore.

Updates on the Fam

2009-06-22T20:15:00.005-05:00

(Ha! My spell-check totally tried to change that to "Updates on the Farm"!)

It's truly nice that so many of you are kind enough to inquire about our family and how we're all getting along in our various trials and challenges. I don't always do a great job blogging about it, but since you've asked, here goes:

Kendrie: rocks. Is being seen once a year in Survivor's Clinic, when she has blood work done, an exam, and typically an e.k.g. each year to check for heart damage from the chemo. She does well in school, plays soccer, loves to swim, and seems to suffer no long-term effects from the chemo ..... except for a truly crappy diet. The girl would live on goldfish, ham, chocolate chips, Dr. Pepper, and Three Muskateers if we would let her. There is never a reason for a fruit or vegetable to cross her lips, unless it is a bowl of fresh strawberries, preferably with an entire cup of sugar poured on the top.

Blaine: meh. As far as the cancer itself goes, he is doing well. His latest pet scan, the one he had after finishing his most recent round of radiation, was good. It showed some areas of tumor activity, but none that were new and none that were bigger. So, good news there, and he'll continue to get pet scans every few months to watch for new tumor activity. Pain management, fatigue, and dietary issues are still key, but we work on those every day. He and I will be traveling to San Antonio next month so he can try a new outpatient procedure that his pain management doctor is hopeful will help. Can't hurt to try, right? And hey, if I get a chance to visit the Alamo at the same time ... bonus!

Grandma Betty: sailed through her treatments for breast cancer earlier this month. Lumpectomy, then ten rounds of radiation over five days and she never missed a beat. She had her final appointment with the surgeon last week, and sees an oncologist tomorrow to discuss which medication she still needs to take (pathology revealed the tumor was estrogen-receptor positive ....) but overall she is doing great. We really couldn't have asked for a smoother treatment plan, and we are grateful.

My sister, Kelly: oh wait, did I neglect to mention that my sister was diagnosed with breast cancer ................ LAST FREAKING WEEK?

(weary sigh)

I'm not an oncologist, but I play one in real life.

Karma

2009-06-21T20:07:00.006-05:00

I'm not a huge believer in karma. Oh, sure, I believe whatever attitude you put out there into the universe will usually come back around and either help you, or knock you down, depending on the vibes you're sending out in the first place. If you exude good things and helpfulness, good things and helpfulness will find their way back to you. Like a Payback Boomerang, if you will.

And I also believe that sometimes, you make your own luck. Or at least make your own attitude, which can definitely affect your outlook, which can definitely affect your day to day life. You know, glass-half-full and what-not.

On second thought, maybe I'm a bigger believer in karma than I thought.

This past week, I've been in a foul mood. People have annoyed me, my feelings have been hurt, I've sulked, I've nursed a grudge, and perhaps worst of all, I shouted at one of my kids in Target. (It was totally his fault, and seriously, I had warned him and warned him and at that point, ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH. But still. Who's the grownup here???)

In short, I haven't been putting out sunshine rays or angel wings of happiness or unicorn smiles or glittery moonbeams of karma into my local universe lately.

Yesterday morning, I pulled a muscle in my back. What was I doing? The highly athletic activity, admired by Olympians and envied by physical fitness buffs the world over known as: Putting my hair in a ponytail.

That's right, I was standing at my bathroom counter, put my arms up over my head, and pulled a muscle in my back.

I think karma just came around and bit me in the ............. lower left shoulder muscle, to be exact.

Worthwhile after all

2009-06-19T18:44:00.004-05:00

I made Oriental Chicken Salad for dinner tonight .... one of my favorites. Unfortunately, its extremely humid here (or maybe only humid in my house!) and the ceramic bowl was wet. As I went to put it in the fridge, it slipped out of my hands, took a good bounce on the kitchen rug, and salad went everywhere.

Dang, I hate when stuff like that happens.

I simply opened the back door and let the dogs in. They had the whole mess cleaned up in about thirty seconds flat. So instead of having to pick up a gazillion oil-covered pieces of salad and nuts and seeds and ramen noodles and pieces of chicken, I just waited until they were done, then got down on my hands and knees with Clorox Wipes to clean off the floor.

If that disgusts you, well, you'll know not to accept any invitations to eat at my house.

As for me, it balances out the eating of the shoe and all is forgiven.

WWBC Version Who the heck knows anymore?

2009-06-19T06:29:00.010-05:00

I'm not sure if the proper question is "What Would Barley Chew?", or "When are those Escoe kids going to learn to put their damn shoes up at night?"

And it probably would have been funny, because they're just Kendrie's inexpensive pool shoes .... but then she chewed up my nephew's pair when he was here visiting .... then she chewed up a pair of Brayden's .... then another pair .... and by then I had quit taking pictures because it appears the cycle is endless, as is her appetite for plastic.

And at some point, its not funny anymore. Mainly because I get tired of running up to Payless or Wal-Mart or wherever, buying new flip flops for everybody. Then, my Parenting with Love and Logic kicks in, and I'm all "Hey, there are natural consequences for things, so just let them go barefoot!" and then they're all "Waah, waah, wahh, but the sidewalk is too hot, carry me!" and I'm all, "Do you not see that I'm already loaded down like a sherpa on Mount Everest with the towels and bags and lunches and innertube and now you want me to carry you for goodness sake you're almost teenagers!" and they're all, "Seriously, Mom, the parking lot is burning our feet!!!" and I'm all "Oh, Dear Lord, let me just buy you some new shoes."

And the whole vicious circle goes back to this face:

"As soon as these human people are gone, I am SO finishing off that shoe ....."

Reunion

2009-06-18T20:13:00.006-05:00

Kristie, I'd love to hear about your high school reunion Was it your first? Your last? Surprises? Disappointments?

I skipped my 20th and have no regrets, but I am always interested in other people's experiences.

This was my fourth reunion ..... we had a tenth, a fifteenth which was rained out (literally -- we planned a family day at a park, and it poured buckets) a twentieth, and this was our twenty-fifth.

Well, my experience was good, but I should probably point out that I am one of those obnoxious weirdoes who loved high school and suffered none of the teen angst and drama that is so popular on current fake-reality television.

Also, my opinion is possibly skewed due to the fact I grew up in the same small town and attended the same small school from kindergarten through twelfth grade, then moved away for twenty years with my military husband. So it's very likely that my sense of nostalgia and sentimentality is greater than those people who continued to live here, and who could see their old friends from high school anytime they wanted. I view the opportunity to catch up with old friends as a treat and a privilege, but I understand that not everyone feels that way.

So, with that stated, I can admit, as the person in charge of tracking down old classmates for this reunion, that at first my feelings were hurt by people choosing not to attend. It was frustrating to try and find old classmates (there should really be some law that women who get married and change their last names have to register with an "Office of High School Connections" somewhere, or something) and to spend time searching the internet, and sending inquiry e-mails, searching old phonebooks, and cold-calling, and then receive no response or reply. Then, I didn't know whether to be more offended by the people who said it sounded like a great time, and they'd get back to me with their reservation and payment ..... and then I never heard from them again, or to be more offended by the people who said (either to my face, or through the grapevine) that they had no use or interest in any of us, and couldn't care less about attending.

Quick note --- I went to a small high school. Our graduating class was about 70 people. Blaine, on the other hand, graduated with over 400, and in the 27 years since he graduated, has talked to maybe three people. He said there were people who walked across the stage at his graduation that he had never seen before, and he never saw again. So I can understand why he is not interested in attending a reunion with people who he never knew, and who mean nothing to him.

I, on the other hand, feel like the situation at my high school was different. Every single person in my graduating class knew one another. OK, sure, maybe not everyone has kept in touch since high school (although a very large number of people HAVE) and maybe these people aren't best friends anymore .... but to basically say "I care so little about the people I graduated with, who knew me and knew my family and spent most of my formative years with me ..... that I can't take one evening out of my life to show up and even pretend I give a shit about how life has treated them for the past twenty-five years ....." was odd to me. I was excited to see these people -- I genuinely was interested in how things were for them, and what they were doing. I looked forward to visiting with them again --- to learn that they did NOT feel the same way about me? I am just shallow enough to admit -- was a little hurtful. And I started the weekend with a pretty good chip on my shoulder about it.

Then? I got over myself. We had about thirty percent of our class show up for this reunion (which I think might be about average for most reunions, no matter the number of graduates ...) and you know what? Every single person who came, came because they WANTED to. The vast majority brought spouses or dates who were good sports, jumped right in and got involved in conversations. (Many went to the same high school and graduated in different classes.) They were sincere and genuine, and they were more interested in reconnecting with the people who were there, than in wasting time wondering about the people who weren't. (That was one of the things I had worried about .... that the people who did come would think it was my fault for the large number of people who didn't ....) But, we talked and laughed and did all the "remember the time we dot dot dot" stories; I learned things about my classmates that I had no idea had happened in high school ..... some funny, some sad, and some I can't believe didn't land people in jail for the stunts they pulled!! Then, when the dinner was over, almost all of us went out as a group, searching for karaoke. Which we didn't find, but we still stayed out until after 1am. And it's my opinion that people don't stay out until after 1am unless they are enjoying themselves -- especially those of us over the age of 40! So it was a good lesson for me. Our numbers were small, but mighty, and this is one time where quality was more important than quantity. Bottom line, for the people who didn't want to go, the reason is theirs, not mine, and I shouldn't have wasted one minute worrying or taking it personally about why they didn't want to be there.

No huge surprises. No drag queens, no sex change operations, no one in the witness protection program -- unless, wait. Maybe *that's* why I couldn't find some people!!

We have doctors, nurses, titans of industry, teachers, preachers, truck drivers, police officers, homemakers, a local radio personality, and more. A few have died, and a few have been in jail. Most are simply enjoying life, with their families, kids, and even a small number of grandkids. Age has treated all my classmates well, it appears. A few more gray hairs, or pounds around the middle, perhaps, but they can still make me laugh, drudge up tons of good memories, and encourage me to ride a zip-line across a lake. So all told, I'd say they're pretty good eggs, and I give the weekend two thumbs up.

More importantly, my kids want to know when we're going back to do the zip line some more. Hey, they've got their priorities.

Nothing

2009-06-17T16:14:00.001-05:00

Ideas I've had to blog about this week.

Photos I took for Tuesday's self-portrait challenge.

What I've got.

Suggestions, anyone? Because this is pretty much the lamest blog entry ever.

25 years, and she still doesn't have the sense God gave a billy goat.

2009-06-13T22:14:00.005-05:00

My class reunion family picnic day was today. As far as the Escoes are concerned, it was a rousing success.

Proof that our family is adventurous:

Proof that our family is daring:

Proof that our family are a bunch of risk-takers:

Proof that our family is brave:

Proof that our family is bold:

Proof that our family is courageous:

Proof that our family is fearless:

Proof that our family is always up for a challenge:

Proof that our family ....

Proof that our family ....

Proof that our family .....

Um, proof .......

Oh my goodness, what is she trying to prove?

Well, shit.

Proof that I know how to make an AWESOME impression on people I haven't seen in twenty-five years!!!

Well, if nothing else, it was cool.

And it provided everyone on shore with a good laugh.

For the record, once the weight of your buttocks drags your lower body into the water, the zipline quits moving. So your choices are to inch towards the shore, hoping against hope that your upper body strength lasts, or to drop as gracefully as possible into the water.

You can pretty much guess which option I chose.

And we shall re-name him "Madalyn Murray O'Hare"

2009-06-11T23:32:00.004-05:00

Please note what is chewed almost beyond recognition: A Bible storybook.

Please note what is lying next to the book, UN-chewed: a bright orange, good-smelling (to a dog) good-tasting (to a dog) good textured (so the tag claimed) fairly expensive Chew Bone.

(NOT as expensive as that set of storybooks, but that's another story for another day, let's just say I don't know if it's more shameful for me to confess to owning an "As Seen On TV" Magic Bullet, or admitting we bought these books from a door-to-door traveling salesman.)

Please note, in our defense, that the Bible storybook was placed properly on the bookshelf, and the dog dragged it out either with his teeth, or his little paws, and commenced to destroying all the stories for the little children who believe in the baby Jesus.

I will need a moment of silence now, to pray for my dog's eternal soul.

It's that time again ....

2009-06-10T08:15:00.009-05:00

when I dig back -- sometimes way, way back -- in my comment section and answer questions from people who are kind enough to actually ask questions. In fact, kind enough to even read the blog in the first place, let alone comment on the drivel I've written!

Clearly I need to do this on a more timely basis, as I couldn't remember what a few of the questions even pertained to .... or maybe that's a sign I just need to start taking ginko biloba.

Either way, here goes:

Deb has left a new comment on your post "On an off note...what are meatloaf muffins? My family loves meatloaf and I am thinking this would be something they would love!"

Deb, a few months ago, a local group of ladies was fundraising for the LLS and put together a cookbook to sell. I love cookbooks like that, from "real" people with "real" recipes involving "real" ingredients. This one is a new family favorite:

1 - 1/2 lbs very lean ground beef (I normally cook with ground turkey, but this recipe is better with beef, in my opinion. Just buy extremely lean.)

6 oz package Stove Top stuffing

1 C water

2 eggs

Combine ingredients. Place in 12-cup muffin pan (spray first with non-stick cooking spray.) Bake at 350 for 35-40 min. Easy, and YUM!

***********************************************

lizinsumner asks: I don't know if congratulations is an appropriate thing to say for a baptism - but, I'll say it anyway. Brings back memories of my own baptism....and Kendrie treading water???!!!!! Love it! But, I'm curious - 173 baptisms?? How come so many at once??

Liz, the first baptism (with 173 people) was spontaneous. Our pastor was being baptized (I think our church does it two or three times a year??) and spur of the moment, he invited anyone who would like to also be baptized to come down and join him. People just started pouring out of the pews. Our church seats close to 2000 people, and we have two services, so there was a large group of people who took part in this fantastic event. Then, so many people asked for a second one because they missed the first (out of town, or whatever reason ....) that they offered a second. That is the one our family took part in.

***************************************

Mom on the Run, with regard to my post about sensational citizen day, asked: "There were 392 character award winners? Did I get that right? That seems like a huge number. How big is your school? Or does the 392 include all the parents."

Well, it *felt* like 392, with all the parents crammed into the gym. But no, I was being sarcastic. The entire elementary school, Pre-K through 5th, only has about 700 students. But still, when you're the PTO person in charge of xeroxing skate night notices and distributing them, 700 is a LOT! (Not that I would know anything about that, ahem.)

**************************************************

Anonymous asks: "where are you cruising to this time? With or without brats?"

Dear anonymous .... the Caribbean. With.

**************************************************

Pam D has left a new comment on your post "SPT Challenge April 28": I have a totally unrelated question: how do you get your pictures in your post to be larger? (like the one of Alisa and the one of Ree in the cooking post)? Do you change up something in the HTML? just wondering.. my biggest frustration with Blogger is that my pictures are so small. Thanks!

Pam, to be completely honest, although I know uploading photos via blogger is possible, I have no idea how to do it. I store all of my photos on my personal web space, then use an html code to link them into my journal entries. I simply re-size them to fit the blog before I upload them. That's the way I had to do it on Kendrie's Caringbridge page, so that's the way I continue to do it with Blogger. I'm sure there are easier ways, but I'm like a stone ... or a rock .... or any kind of stubborn thing you can think of .... once I find a method that works for me, I don't change it. For anything. And RUE THE DAY the technology changes without asking my permission and I'm forced to learn new methods.

*********************************************

Renee has left a new comment on your post "Things I Learned Today":

I share the same love of "camping." The last picture is a keeper! Did you **ever** do the Carters Lake hike?

Renee, this comment hurts me. Deeply. Especially since you are one of my best friends and I feel betrayed by your insinuation that I am not particularly athletic and nature-y. To imply that I do not relish hiking and sweating and bugs and leaves and crap. That I would somehow try to weasel my way out of our annual scrapbooking hike, and sit in the cabin instead, drinking amaretto sours and eating chocolate. Hmmmph! (Psssst, I got out of the hike the first two years, but Kim was really giving me grief the third year so I went. I wasn't sure I would make it back up the hill without roadside assistance. It sucked. So glad we're going to Ohio this year, and hopefully no trails near Jodi's house!!)

***************************************

The Running Girl has left a new comment on your post "Why Julia Child doesn't have to worry about me ste...":

"OH MY! That Death by Chocolate looks amazing. Please share the recipe. YUMMMMMM!"

Bri, it might very well be the best dessert ever made in the history of the universe. If I make it, I have to make sure it gets eaten in the first setting, or leave it with our hosts, or send it home with someone else, because if not, I have been known to sit down on the sofa with the bowl in my lap and a spoon and eat until I put myself into a diabetic coma. And I'm not even diabetic.

One family sized brownie mix

2 large boxes instant chocolate pudding

12 oz Cool Whip

6 Heath candy bars, chopped

Make brownies according to directions (13x9 pan). Let cool. Make chocolate pudding according to directions. Let set.

Layer in trifle bowl (or salad bowl, or whatever kind of clear pretty bowl you have):

1/2 brownies
1/2 pudding
1/2 candy bars (save small amount for garnish)
1/2 cool whip

Repeat layers with second halves. Sprinkle some of the chopped candy bars on top. Oh good heavens, I'm totally craving this now just typing the recipe. It's even better the second day when the brownies have gotten kind of smushy from the pudding in the fridge --- total goodness.

*********************************************

Hennifer has left a new comment on your post "Perfect Mother's Day":

"I'm not sure I'll ever get over quite how long your son's legs are. It is your fault of course for pointing it out but my goodness. How tall is he?"

Hennifer, he's about 5"2, I think. I'm 5"6 (if I'm standing up straight) and he can't quite look me in the eye, although it is becoming increasingly depressing when I hug him and he's getting closer and closer to catching me. He's actually not the tallest in his class, by far. He *used* to be --- he used to be freakish giant mutant tall compared to all the other kids. But he's slowed down, and some of them have grown, and he was actually caught and passed this year by a few boys in his grade (for the record, I don't think it counts when its boys who have been held back by their parents and should technically be in the grade above because they are a full year older .... no "tall" points for them.)

***********************************************

Mama Bear has left a new comment on your post "That makes no sense to me whatsoever":

"Inside lane? Outside lane? Don't any kids walk to school anymore or ride their bikes or ride a bus?"

Mama Bear, lest you think the kids at our school are a bunch of spoiled, pampered, lazy slobs who insist on being delivered at school in style each day (oh, wait! That's only my three!) ...... let me point out that our school is very small, and our school district is also small -- only one square mile. Only five or six blocks in each direction from the school. Therefore, busing is not offered to any students, even those that live "in-district". Many of the in-district students walk to school, my own included (when they're not demanding chauffeur service, of course.) Several ride bikes as well.

However, almost 80% of the students in our school are "transfer" students, meaning they transfer in from other public school districts. Clearly their district is not going to provide them transportation to our school. Ours is a public school, so parents must receive permission to transfer in and out (unlike private school, where you pay tuition to attend.) But, transfer students live all over town, and often live in neighboring towns. My sister, for instance, drives almost half an hour each way to bring her kids to this school every single day. Clearly, students who live miles and miles from the school, and who must cross many busy streets and intersections, are unable to walk or bike. So our car lanes are a necessity, and personally I think it's fabulous that the principal is out there opening doors and helping children in and out of cars.

I would also point out that even in Georgia, where busing for the students was available, many parents elected to transport their own kids to and from, for convenience. Ie, when kids are on the bus for 45 minutes on their way to and from school, when a parent can drive it in ten. Our local high school didn't start until 7:30, but our neighborhood high school kids were picked up as early as 6:10 by the bus. If you're a parent and are lucky enough that your schedule allows you to take your kids .... well, I think it's great.

I would also like to point out that I have rambled on for four paragraphs about this, and I have no idea why.

*********************************************

Musings from Me has left a new comment on your post "You can always find *something* positive ... even ...":

"What did you think of Paul Blart: Mall Cop? I thought it was a terrible film. Predictable. Poorly acted. Kinda felt like Kevin James was doing what the SNL guys do with their films -- ride the wave of familiarity by doing a mediocre film."

Bearing in mind I'm not a professional film critic by any means .... I thought the funniest parts were in the trailer, and the movie was mediocre at best. However! It was showing at the dollar theater, and by golly, if you can't find a few laughs to get your buck's worth, then you're in sad shape. But, it will definitely NOT be going on our "To Buy" list, or even on our "To Rent Again With Dad" list. (Why yes, we *do* have lists .... don't you?)

*******************************************

Sara has left a new comment on your post "Helicopter Parent":

"It's so funny to see the differences between families. I attended boarding school from third grade through twelfth grade in Rolle, Switzerland. Of course, I went home (to London, and later, Chicago) over Christmas, spring break, and the summer, but for the most part I was very independent. I absolutely adored being on my own, and am still so thankful that I was able to have such an amazing experience - I credit much of my current success to my old school."

Sara, thanks so much for sharing this -- I find the whole concept of boarding school fascinating!! Are they always all-girl, or all-boy? Does everyone get to wear a cool blazer? Is it only rich kids that get to go? Does everyone talk with a British accent? Are there all sorts of late-night shenanigans going on??? So many questions .....

I never wanted to attend boarding school, and know no one who ever did (I think it's more of a European thing, isn't it?) but I was always intrigued. At least until I read the Harry Potter books, and then I *DID* want to attend Hogwarts. Shoot, 'round these parts, going out of state to college at age 18 is considered adventurous!

**************************************

lizinsumner has left a new comment on your post "SPT Challenge June 9":

"Okay, I like smoothies - although I like Starbucks frappaccinnos more - but there's one thing that I JUST DON'T GET about smoothies: what's the deal with the wheat germ? Is wheat germ, like, a totally REQUIRED ingredient in smoothies? And what the heck is wheat germ for? This just may very well keep me up all night tonight, pondering........"

Ummmm, wheat germ is .... ummmmm, wheat. I think. Which makes it a grain, which makes it healthy. Everyone knows that grains are good for you. And wheat grows in a field, which means it has fresh air and sunshine built into it, which is also good for you. And clearly it helps protect you against germs. Germs from the ... uh .... wheat germ ... things.

OK, well, obviously I have no idea what wheat germ is for -- folic acid, maybe? .... just that people put it in their smoothies, so I think I should, too! In fact, when Mandy mentioned flaxseed in an earlier comment, I made a mental note to pick up some of that, too, even though I have no idea what that does either! I can tell you that we use the whey (protein powder) in a transparent attempt to put some meat on my child's bones. I don't think he can technically build muscle until he begins to go through puberty and gets some testosterone in his skinny little body, but I figure until he voluntarily eats more meat, a little protein powder certainly can't hurt. Right? (Please, if there are any nutritionists reading this, and protein powder actually CAN hurt my son, would you let me know? Because I'm pretty sure I can always just give him more of that healthy wheat germ stuff to counteract it ....)

**********************************************

And thus ends this edition of "Answers to Comments". Please feel free to ask more questions in the comments so we can have more editions. Or .... don't. If you think this is stupid, and all.

SPT Challenge June 9

2009-06-09T05:59:00.007-05:00

As always since it began in January, I eagerly awaited Lelly's Self-Portrait challenge last week, only to be dismayed to read that she was so overwhelmed with things keeping her from her own computer that she didn't have time to think up an spt challenge, let alone issue it, let alone blog about it.

Hmmm. I'm not sure if that's a clue that I'm really organized, really anal, or that I just need to get a life.

Instead, she posted the following challenge the next day and gave us a week off to think about it:

"your challenge for june is to find your way back. no matter what's been keeping you from blogging, each week you are going to find one small hurdle to overcome. one item to cross off of your to-do list. one pile to declutter. one meal to prepare. one (or ten) pounds to lose.

one thing each week that will bring you to your blog. too vague? don't worry. i have parameters!!

tuesday, june 9 meal-planning/preparations or other organized family time

tuesday, june 16 bringing the indoors outdoors for summer

tuesday, june 23 tackle a very unpleasant cleaning task

tuesday, june 30 i feel better already!"

And after reading that, I wonder if I perhaps have brain-dyslexia. I can read fine, and I can write fine, but I think I have this challenge backwards. Those aren't the things that will bring me to my blog, those are the very things that keep me FROM my blog.

So she wants me to blog about the things that if I do them I don't have time to blog? Or am I supposed to think about the things that keep me from my blog, and then do them, and then blog about it? Or just blog about thinking about doing them? Isn't that just a wee bit existential? Deep? Profound? Or at least more complicated than my tiny brain can comprehend?

Don't answer that.

But a challenge it is, and so a challenge I shall take.

June 9th -- meal plannings or preparation. I thought I would take this chance to share with you a recent purchase that has possibly changed my life more than any other purchase ever made in the history of the world and that includes push-up bras and the internet, so that's really saying something. (I'm kidding. I've never worn a push-up bra in my life.)

About a month ago, I bought a Magic Bullet. I had never even heard of such a thing but another mom on Kellen's soccer team was raving about it. I think it's some kind of mini-food-processor-chopper-mixer-thing, but she uses hers for smoothies and was going on and on about how convenient it is, and how much it has improved her life.

Basically, the device allows you to make individual smoothies for each member of your family, with minimal clean up. Each person can pick and choose the ingredients of their choice and they don't have to agree on the same things like they do when you're making an entire blender of smoothies. You mix the smoothies in the same glass that they drink out of, which can then be put in the dishwasher. No big blender to rinse out and wash each morning, no big blender base to drag in and out of the pantry, or try and find space on the counter for.

My kids (well, Brayden and Kellen, anyway ... Kendrie still thinks "Cocoa Puffs" should count as its own food group) have eaten more fresh fruit in the past month than probably their whole life. I feel smug and superior that I'm providing them with such a yummy, healthy breakfast that they love, instead of a bowl of carbohydrates and sugar. (see above: Cocoa Puffs.)

As cheesy as it might be to admit to owning an "As Seen on TV!" device, I must say, the Magic Bullet has changed my life for the better. I highly recommend this purchase. It has nothing whatsoever to do with my blogging, but I love it.

Now, where's the number for that Sham-Wow dude, because I think that's pretty much all I need to make my life complete.

Brayden's favorite smoothie:
one whole banana
approx 1/3 cup chopped fresh strawberries
one kiwi
two scoops strawberry flavored yogurt
ice and orange juice
wheatgerm

Kellen's favorite smoothie:
one whole banana
one scoop peanut butter
two scoops vanilla flavored yogurt
two tablespoons(ish) Carnation Chocolate Instant Breakfast Powder
one scoop chocolate-flavored whey
ice and milk
wheatgerm
one good squirt Hershey's syrup

Kendrie's favorite smoothie:
strawberries
strawberry flavored yogurt
ice
milk
(Hey, we're working on it. Hoping to eventually eliminate the Cocoa Puffs altogether.)

Helicopter Parent

2009-06-07T20:40:00.006-05:00

I do not, for the record, consider myself a helicopter parent. I keep close tabs on my kids, sure. I like to think of myself as attentive, involved, and caring. But I don't particularly hover, and I don't freak out when my kids aren't within immediate eyesight or earsight. I've gone away on overnight trips, on scrapbooking weekends with my girlfriends, and on a two-week cruise (sans kids) with Blaine. The kids, in the reverse, have all three spent time away from us on playdates and sleepovers at other kids houses. Give them roots, give them wings, yadda yadda yadda.

All that to say --- Kellen is gone to a three day, two night sleep-away camp at a university away from home, with no way to contact him except in the event of an extreme emergency ..... and I (sniff, sniff) miss him more than I ever thought I would.

I think the difference is that when he spends the night with friends, I know their mothers. I have the knowledge that I can get ahold of him any time I want. Not that I DO, just that I CAN.

At football camp, he is one of six hundred boys, and those counselors don't know him personally. They don't know his name; they don't know anything about him. They don't know that he's using an alarm clock to wake himself up for breakfast for the first time in his life. They don't know that he likes chocolate milk instead of white, they're not going to remind him that I left extra money in his suitcase in case he gets hungry, they're not going to remind him to lock the room behind him when he leaves, they don't know that he's too self-conscious to ask for help if he needs it, and they sure as heck don't care if he remembers to put on the sunscreen I left for him.

Do I think he'll be fine? Yes.

Do I think he'll manage to work the alarm clock and make it to breakfast on time? Yes.

Do I think he's having fun, learning tons about football, and enjoying himself with his friend Chance while they stay in the dorms? Yes, yes, and yes.

But it's breaking my heart just a little bit.

Conversation earlier today:

Me: "It feels weird without Kellen here. I wonder how he's doing. I wonder what he's doing RIGHT NOW. I wonder if he's having fun. I wonder how the practices are going. I wonder how the food in the cafeteria is. I wonder if he misses us, too."

Kendrie: "It does feel weird. Like part of our family is missing."

Brayden: "All I've noticed is how much quieter is it around here."

How on earth will ~~he AND Brayden~~ I survive FIVE DAYS of church camp later this summer??

A large number of the boys attending the camp are day campers, and their parents are responsible for getting the boys to and from practice, and they stay during the practices, also. I figured it couldn't hurt the first day if I stuck around, too, even if Kellen is an overnight camper and I didn't *technically* need to be there. I blended in with the hundreds of other parents ... and it gave me a chance to watch what they were doing .... and whisper goodbye one last time when Kellen ran past me on his way back to the dorms, happy as a clam .....

Welcome to the next edition ...

2009-06-06T04:20:00.007-05:00

...of WWBC 2009.

(in other words, "What Would Barley Chew?", a continuing series involving our dogs, Barley and Brew, and the innumerous household items they ravage during their time here.)

I don't think it requires any great stretch of the imagination to guess exactly what I thought this was on my bedroom floor when I rounded the corner.

I also don't think it requires any great stretch of the imagination to guess exactly what words came out of my mouth upon seeing this, the bewilderment about what on God's green earth they had possibly eaten to make them this ill, and envisioning the clean-up that would be required.

Never in the history of the world has a pet owner been so happy as to discover it was only a nerf football.

You can always find something positive ... even if it's just laughing at your sister

2009-06-03T17:42:00.004-05:00

So, not to beat around the bush, but last month my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer.

But saying it that way ... BREAST CANCER ... sounds all dramatic and somber and theatrical, and really .... it's not. It was caught extremely early. With a proper treatment plan the survival rate is something like 99.8%, and truthfully, none of us are too freaked out about it.

In fact, my mom is more annoyed than anything because we are leaving on our cruise in a few weeks and she's already informed her doctor that "she doesn't have time for this crap, thank you very much, so just do what you need to do and let's get it over with."

My sister and I have been her support people the past month or so during her visits with surgeons, radiologists, and oncologists. We've sat with her for ultrasounds and cat scans and MRIs and needle biopsies. I now know way more than I ever planned with regard to lumpectomies vs mastectomies, stages, grades, balloon radiation vs beam radiation, estrogen receptor positive vs negative ... et. al. I also know more than I ever intended about sinus cancer and pediatric leukemia, which is really starting to give me a complex because what is the common denominator here???? ME. I'm beginning to think I am this family's lucky fucking charm, is all, and being related to me is perhaps not such a good thing for the other members in this family.

But this isn't about me. It's about my mother and how she's doing.

She's doing fine, thank you for asking.

She had her surgery yesterday and things went smoothly. Except for the fact she is ~~a total lightweight~~ apparently allergic to Lortab and threw up her heels for hours afterwards, despite taking anti-nausea meds, which actually provided some comedic relief, because I had NO IDEA my sister was a vomit-phobe who would run screaming from the recovery room anytime my mother started to retch. And I would totally make fun of her for it. (My sister, for running. Not my mom.)

Naturally, *I* am the one who wound up rubbing her back while she puked and spending the night with her while she continued puking and then rinsing out the disposable vomit bag because even though the nurses gave her several bags, they were really cool disposable vomit bags and once we were back at her house and she was down to her last one she was all, "you should rinse this out in case I need it again" and I was all "that's ok mom I can just get you a bowl" and she was all "no, no, because this way is easy and not as gross, you should just rinse it out" and I thought to myself "yeah it's not as gross to you because you're not the one rinsing it out in the sink."

It was gross.

Kidding, mom. I love you and it wasn't that gross!

(Ok, it totally was, but I don't to make her feel bad about it.)

I am also the one charged with changing her dressing every day until radiation starts and while we've never been an exceptionally shy and private family, I have also never seen my mother's breasts as many times in my LIFE as I have the past two days.

But that's ok, too. I figure as many diaper changes as she gave me when I was born it's probably only fair I help her out now and not protest the nudity.

..............................................................

Sorry. I got sidetracked there .... still giggling at my sister practically knocking a nurse over trying to get out of the room when my mom was throwing up. Considering she has four boys under the age of 13, you'd think she'd be a little stronger-stomached when it comes to bodily fluids like blood or barf, but no.

Of course, she got her chance to laugh at me when I carried a borrowed chair into the empty recovery room next to my mom's, only to discover it wasn't empty and I basically walked in on a fat naked man eating a popsicle.

Sorry about that, sir.

So anyway, what's my point?

My mom is doing well. She didn't want me to tell anyone about her diagnosis because she didn't want any attention. She only let me tell about it now because the surgery is over, and enough of her close friends know about it that she no longer feels it's a secret.

And the REASON I choose to tell you is twofold:

1) To thank you in advance for keeping Grandma Betty in your thoughts during her upcoming radiation, and

2) Typical PSA disclaimer like I always throw in: Please remember to get your annual mammogram. You. Just. Never. Know.

Moments in time ....

2009-06-01T16:06:00.003-05:00

A few weeks ago, I thought the funniest thing I had ever heard was a group of eleven year old boys, belting out "Jenny/867-5309" as loudly as they could in my van.

Today, driving down the road, I think the five twelve-year old girls singing "The Hairbrush Song" from Veggie Tales at the top of their lungs was even funnier.

Good thing my kids' friends are just as easily amused as they are.

Fancy schmancy anniversary plans. Try not to be jealous.

2009-05-30T23:30:00.010-05:00

Twenty-two years ago tonight, I was here:

Twenty-two years later, ie TONIGHT, I was here:

It's a summertime rite of passage, as far as I'm concerned.

Our kids had never been to the drive in. Although they were curious about how we would actually hear the movie (whatever happened to the speakers on the posts? Does anyone know? Now it's played via a radio station and people around us were pulling boom boxes and portable radios out to hook up .... we weren't that savvy, so we just turned Blaine's truck radio up REALLY LOUDLY and prayed the battery wouldn't be dead at the end of the movie ....) they wound up enjoying the evening.

It was an awesome night for it ... great temps, light winds, plenty of snacks from home, and a movie we all enjoyed. Please take note of the poor couple in front of us, attempting a romantic evening out by going to the drive in, in a convertible. It's very Danny-and-Sandy, don't you think? I'm sure it was extra-special-romantic, sitting ten feet from my kids, listening to them laugh hysterically at the Capuchin monkeys, complain that they couldn't hear and why didn't we bring a boom box like everyone else, rummage through the snack bag over and over and over, laugh some more, and then argue about who was taking up the most room in the truck bed. Although, if that couple truly wanted a romantic evening out, shouldn't they have picked a movie that didn't involve Ben Stiller and museum statues coming to life?

Honestly, I can't think of anyplace else I would rather have been.

Happy Anniversary, honey. Here's to another 22 years of buttered popcorn and overpriced soda.

Hey, it's just like Dear Abby! Only not really .....

2009-05-29T21:25:00.004-05:00

...because instead of offering advice, it seems I'm always coming to you, ASKING for advice. This time, though, I'm asking for a friend. (I know, that's what people always say when they're trying to pretend its not them ... but honest, this time it really IS for a friend!) She wrote after reading everyone's comments earlier this week and has a situation she thought someone might have a suggestion for. So let me throw it out there on her behalf, and if you have any ideas, please leave a comment. Thanks!

PS. I promise, this isn't turning into some lame parenting advice blog. I've got too many other, important things to talk about, like my love for Sonic, and our summer roly-poly infestation that has begun, and the bizarre-o tattoos I saw at the water park today.....

"Hey Kristie!
I was reading the update on your blog & found it interesting & informative. I too sometimes have trouble w/ kids misbehaving w/ plans already made & it being a big, huge hassle to cancel the plans. I do the best that I can to correct the child & punish them in the right way. Now I have a question for you that maybe you can ask your blog readers & not mention that its from me! Not sure if anyone from here knows you & reads your blog too! What do you do when a certain child is ALWAYS at your house & never asks your child over? The mom always says that we need to have your child over yet never does! When we talk of getting the kids together, she always offer to bring her child over, never asking my child to come over. Its my child's best friend. Help? I don't want to end the friendship yet I don't want to go all summer w/that child here & my child never there. That child is always polite and nice to have around. Its just the fairness of it all. How do you handle situations like this? Thanks!"

It's a Bird! It's a Plane! It's a ....

2009-05-29T08:30:00.005-05:00

two-headed, eight-legged, rabid, vicious monster, taking up residence in our kitchen!!

Oh, wait. It's just Brew and Barley, hanging out with each other like they do every day.

And to think I worried about them not liking one another, Barley being jealous, or Brew not fitting in.

It should be duly noted that for every minute they spend lounging together, they spend four or five playing. Wrestling, jumping, snatching toys from one another, chasing, tail-wagging kind of playing . USUALLY early in the morning, either in my bedroom or on my bed, with ME STILL LYING IN IT, TRYING TO SLEEP.

Stinking dogs.

PS. I love them both dearly, in case you can't tell.

Some new strategies, some not

2009-05-27T22:33:00.006-05:00

I want to say thanks to all of you who chimed in on the "summer fun time vs. annoying, ungrateful kids" topic. The vast majority of the comments were well-intentioned and respectful, and for that I am very thankful. I appreciate anyone who takes the attitude .... "Here's my experience; here's my opinion. This works for *our* family. It might not work for *yours*, but it's a suggestion I am willing to make WITHOUT assuming you are the dumbest person on the planet for even contemplating for one single solitary second that it might not be the best suggestion ever made in the history of the universe for *your* family, because all families are different, and all kids are different, and what works as gospel for us might not for you and that's ok, too, because the bottom line is we're all just trying to make our way without insulting one another or debating this for a single second." Or something like that. I might be paraphrasing. I was simply glad no-one got snotty or judgmental.

The vast majority of suggestions were that we should scale back our activities, in order that the kids might appreciate them more. I think that point is perfectly valid. However, let me be the first to assure you that it's not a non-stop, 25-hr a day circus around here. I'm as big a proponent of "down time" as the next mom. We go to the library once a week so they always have something to read, and we do "schoolwork" every day during the week, a time when the kids are sitting quietly at a table by themselves, working in workbooks or doing creative writing. My kids rarely play the Wii, we don't have any other gaming system, and they aren't obsessed with computers or videos. They do, however, have a tendency to turn into little couch potatoes in front of the tv if I don't monitor their time, which is probably another reason I like to get out of the house a lot --- they're perfectly content to watch 37 episodes of iCarly without moving, or the Three Ninjas Knuckle Up movie five times in a row (I speak from personal experience this weekend, and for the record, that might be the dumbest movie ever made ....Seriously? I'm supposed to believe a little eight-year old boy can take out seven grown men, all the while wearing an Indian headdress and shouting "hyah!!" ??? When I expressed disbelief to Kellen, he informed me, "Not a boy, Mom, but a highly skilled trained NINJA!" And the sad part is, he was dead serious. )

I think (and again, this is just me speaking for my three) that they are a little too old for "quiet time in their rooms", but they do **play** in their rooms (or on the staircase!) and I do encourage independent projects. In case you don't believe me, the words. "I don't care if you're bored, find something to do or I'll give you chores" came out of my mouth just today. :)

As luck would have it, when they were younger and I was more uptight about "safety", they actually had much more freedom to go outside and play. In Georgia, there were four other families with young children on our street, and it wasn't uncommon for all the kids to be outside from morning until evening, playing with one another, up and down the street.

Here, we live in an old neighborhood. There are no parks or trails or fields or creeks or playgrounds within walking distance. The playground at the elementary school is fenced and locked. There are none within biking distance (at least not any that I feel safe letting them go to alone.) There are ZERO children on our street, and only a few on the streets around us. The houses are small, on small lots, with small yards. So I find it slightly ironic (and frustrating) that now, when my kids are old enough -- in my opinion -- to have a bit more freedom to explore the neighborhood and play with friends, they no longer have the opportunity. And I do send them "outside to play" quite often, but it's never long before they are complaining they are bored and could we invite friends over??? There's something a little bit sad about watching your son try and scrimmage himself in soccer in the back yard ..... And then there you go, it's a scheduled play-date, the very thing I should cut back on.

I'm not telling you these things because I'm defensive about my parenting (ok, maybe I am, just a little) but rather to help clear up the (what I believe is a) misconception I somehow gave that we have activities planned every morning and every night, from sun up until sun down.

However, I do acknowledge that more down time, and encouraging them to make more of their own fun, wouldn't be a bad idea, and that is one of the things we're going to work on.

I love the idea of saving a fun activity for the end of the week and letting the kids earn it; so we've designated Fridays for that. We're also going to let each kid take turns picking the Friday activity from a pre-approved list. When we sat down with them and asked them to suggest activities, they ranged from "lunch with dad" or "more family movie nights" to "more time at the local water park", "Six Flags", and "can we go back to Great Wolf Lodge?" .... clearly, they ran the gamut.

We also sat the kids down and told them I would NOT cancel plans or un-invite friends if one of them misbehaves. I agree with everyone who said that is unfair to too many people. If, however, one of them misbehaves in the morning, the offender will have to sit out at least a portion of that day's activities. If it happens during the activity, they will also sit out. If it happens on the way home, or on a day we're staying home, or in the evening, we instituted a "chore jar" --- strips of paper with household chores above and beyond their normal chores. Really gross stuff that I don't like to do either, like cleaning baseboards and toilets and vacuuming out the van. I bought a small notebook to keep track if a child is told they must "pull a chore strip" during the day (because yes, I am the kind of parent who would forget ....) and they must pull the strip and do the chore the minute they get home. We're going on three days and no strips yet, although Brayden and Kendrie both came very close today and only got out of it by apologizing (UN-prompted) to one another for their actions.

I also started writing down a list of what we did (or didn't do) each day, and who got to invite a friend/have a sleepover/attend a play date/etc. I hope this will help me when the inevitable "It's not fair!" debate begins about how one child always is the preferred one. Of course, whichever child *that* is depends on who feels slighted and who is doing the arguing. According to all three of the kids, I ALWAYS favor "the other two" ... and best as I can tell, that's mathematically impossible. I just need to help them understand it, and also help them understand "Because I said so" is indeed a complete sentence.

I also need to work on my knee-jerk parenting style when it comes to arguing. A private e-mail I received from a friend brought up a good point .... even though arguing is annoying and drives me batty, it is one way that kids learn to work out disagreements and solve problems. So I'll be trying harder to balance a healthy amount of "letting them work it out without butting in" with "hush stop arguing for pete's sake because I said so that's why!"

So in a nutshell:

1. Fewer activities over all, although no-one is going to confuse us with homebodies, even with a calmer schedule, because *I* like to get out socially, too.

2. More "delayed" activities, IF they are earned, and letting the kids take a more active part in planning them.

3. Clearer punishment for kids who argue, fuss, fight, moan, complain, or in any way make life miserable for the rest of us.

4. More chocolate for me.

(Well, come on. That's just a given, isn't it?)

Thanks again for chiming in. I'd love to hear who else got some great ideas from the comments section, and how they're working out for you.

It takes a virtual village ...... (and a lot of chocolate.)

SPT Challenge May 26

2009-05-26T13:55:00.000-05:00

Self-Portrait Challenges for the month of May from Lelly of Lelly's Musings:

"tuesday, may 5 something old
tuesday, may 12 something new
tuesday, may 19 something borrowed
tuesday, may 26 something blue

take it literally, take it figuratively, but by all means, make a commitment to complete all four challenges for the month of may!"

And so, without further ado, here is my final SPT Challenge for this month, "Something Blue":

Me and Kellen, who is looking handsome, and way too grown-up, in his new BLUE blazer, on 5th grade graduation day last Friday.

Now my middle child is headed to middle school.

And my heart is breaking with the knowledge that before too long, he will be driving and growing muscles and becoming interested in girls and (most-likely-although-I-really-hope-not-because-its-so-extremely-pathetic-looking) trying desperately to grow some scraggly-ass mustache which will be nothing more than peach fuzz but I suppose its a rite of passage for boys, is it not?

And then he will go away to college. Where he will be exposed to people and situations that I will not be around to supervise and all I will be able to do is sit back and pray we've taught him well. And a whole new world will open up to him ... one where he will be old enough to gamble, buy lottery tickets, buy cigarettes, buy porn, (gasp!) vote, and register for the draft (sob!)

And probably after that he will live in an apartment or house with a bunch of other stinky, sweaty guys, who drive beat up cars and wear their hair too long and don't mow the lawn enough. And they will listen to loud music and drink cheap beer and probably ogle ~~tramps~~ young women who wear their shirts too tight. And at some point along the way, there will be a conniving little wench who will break my baby's heart and I will have to hate her for it.

And then at some point after that, he will meet a wonderful girl and get married and I will truly be replaced. At least until they have children of their own, at which point I will become the wise old grandma who is (hopefully!) available for babysitting.

Oh my goodness.

I've gone from having an elementary school graduate to being a grandmother, all in this one post.

Excuse me while I go weep for a while.

In Memoriam

2009-05-25T16:26:00.004-05:00

Dad
1941-2006
US Army, 1960-1963

I miss you, Dad

Happy, and respectful, Memorial Day.

A question for all you child-rearing experts

2009-05-24T21:43:00.007-05:00

Which, you know, basically means "any parent that reads this."

Or, it doesn't even have to be a parent. Anyone who has an opinion about kids should feel free to weigh in. A teacher, a counselor, a babysitter. Or even anyone who raises, say, hamsters. Because you never know. Maybe someone with hamsters has the same problem and has found a better way to handle it.

This is actually a problem we run into year-round, but I know from experience that will only get worse now that summer is officially here.

In a nutshell, I like to stay busy with my kids. And since we have so much more free time in the summer, I have a tendency to plan way more stuff. Water parks, museums, local swimming pools, movies, bowling, playdates .... you name it, we typically have *something* planned every day. Not necessarily something that costs money, I'm all about parks and riding bikes and those kinds of activities as well.

I always have these high expectations, and visions of how these things will pan out. In my vision, my children are laughing, happy, grateful little munchkins who are always on their best behavior and smile and say thank you and frequently help little old ladies cross the street.

In reality ........... well ............ you know how it goes.

Seems inevitably *someone* is tired or crabby or frustrated. And nothing ruins the mood faster than a whiny, ungrateful little brat.

I'm totally not above canceling plans mid-stream if I don't like the way the kids are behaving. Case in point: last Sunday, the kids wanted icees after church. Half way to 7-11 they were arguing and sniping with one another in the car, so I made it a point to drive right past 7-11 without stopping, then go on home, telling them exactly why they weren't getting a treat that day. Usually there is outraged protest, then complaining that it was so-and-so's fault, then wheedling and pleading, then grudging acceptance.

But sadly, the lesson never seems to stick, and before too much longer, I'm canceling plans again.

Quite frankly, it really pisses me off.

My dilemma, however, is how to handle these situations during the summer, when more often than not, other people are involved as well.

If I've let the kids each invite a friend to the movies, and one kid is being argumentative right off, do I call all three friends and cancel the entire day? Then five kids are being punished for the behavior of one.

Now that we live near family, I've considered dropping the offender off at Grandma's and going about our day with the kids who behaved ... but I hate for Grandma's house to be equated with "punishment", and truth be told, Grandma Betty has a life of her own and I'm not sure it would be feasible to assume she can provide last minute baby-sitting for whichever kid is acting ugly.

And then do I have to UN-invite the friend? Or do I honor the invitation we've extended, and take the friend without my child?

What if I've already rsvp'd for a birthday party, or had another mom invite my child out to do something, and THEN my kid acts up? Do I mess up someone else's plans by canceling?

If our family has planned to go to the lake for the weekend, and I've already bought all the groceries and told our hosts we will be there, I don't want to cancel. And I certainly can't leave one kid behind.

What if I've paid in advance for an event, or pre-purchased tickets, and they are acting so bad I don't want to go? Do I make the child pay me back? And then *I'm* mad because everyone's plans were ruined?

What if we're meeting another family for an activity? What if *I* instigated the event? Do I then call the other mom and say, "Sorry, I know this whole afternoon was my idea, but my kids are being brats and we're not coming" ??

I think that's exactly what I *should* do, but in truth, I have a hard time doing it. Not because I'm embarrassed to admit my kids are mis-behaving (anyone who KNOWS my kids knows it happens) but because I feel GUILT when other people are involved.

And I think my kids know it.

So they mis-behave, and I get angry, and they apologize, and we go on about our day. And normally, we have a very good time doing whatever it is we have planned to do.

But there's no incentive to stop them from arguing and whining and complaining again the next time.

Does anyone else experience this at all?

How do you punish one without punishing them all?

And what about when other families or kids are included?

Honestly, I think my kids GET so much, that sometimes they forget to be grateful for it, and forget to appreciate it. Threatening to take away a swim date isn't that big a deal, because we go swimming several times a week.

How do people manage this?

(No, really, that's not a rhetorical question ... I really would like to know.)

Probably part of the problem is me, overscheduling my children. Maybe if they sat at home more often, they'd appreciate getting to do the fun things. But I feel like I sat at home so long with Kendrie, when she was too sick to get out and do much. Now, I don't want to miss a single opportunity for fun.

But really, it's not much fun when they're fussing and fighting before we're even out the door. Sometimes I feel like I'm begging them to act nice, so *I* can have the pleasure of taking *them* to do something fun.

Anyone else? Anyone????

My Pet Scan

2009-05-23T09:43:00.007-05:00

Kellen: "Mom, have you seen my pet scan?"

Me: "What?"

Kellen: "Have you seen my pet scan?"

Me: "What are you talking about?"

Kellen: "Have you seen my pet scan? We watched it at school the other day. It was really good."

Me: "You watched your PET SCAN at school? You've never even had a pet scan."

Kellen: "I said, HAVE YOU SEEN PRINCE CASPIAN????"

Clearly, my brain doesn't work quite like other people's.

******************************************************
PS. The team mom e-mailed to let us know we would, in fact, NOT be taking a break between seasons, and practice would take place as normal next week. I e-mailed HER back to let her know, in fact, that we would NOT be there.

We're on a break

2009-05-22T05:07:00.008-05:00

Wednesday night was Kellen's final soccer game of the year.

And thus ended our first foray into the world of competitive soccer, which began almost one year ago.

A year filled with summer camps, tryouts, practices, fall soccer, indoor winter soccer, spring soccer, tournaments, and even our first out-of-state competition. And most painfully, a year of practices every Tuesday and Thursday night, rain or shine. (Oh, the ~~curse~~ blessing of having a team parent with keys to their church's gym --- even a good hard rain doesn't cancel practice!)

Which means last night was our first Thursday night in almost eleven months with No. Soccer. Practice. And I had big plans for our family. I was going to cook dinner, and then take the kids bike riding around the lake. We were going to bond, and relax, and laugh, just like those happy families in those stupid magazines that always make me feel so inferior.

Instead, my after-school PTO meeting ran long, then I had to run to Home Depot to buy yet another gallon of paint, (Caribbean Sunshine Yellow by Behr, thank you God, I can feel my mood lightening every time I walk in the room) because I am apparently genetically incapable of guesstimating how much paint it will take to finish painting my living room. So then it was really too late for me to cook dinner so I stopped on the way home and bought a pizza. And when I got home Kendrie was in a foul mood, and Brayden was in the middle of watching "Look Who's Talking Too" (and the heck with all the cute talking babies, there is actually a lot of cursing in that movie, but of course nothing my kids haven't heard from me already, which is probably why they will grow up to be social delinquents, because cursing talking babies make us laugh ....) and couldn't be bothered with a bike ride.

And Kellen, bless his heart, already had his pajama bottoms on and was playing with his army men on the staircase. Don't ask me why he stages battles on the staircase when he has an entire bedroom to play in, he just does. I think for him, "chill" was the operative word for the evening and after playing soccer approximately 1500 hours the past year ..... he ... didn't .... want ... to ... do ... ANYTHING last night.

Except chase the ice cream truck down the street in his pajama bottoms, with the rest of us running after.

So although my evening didn't go quite as planned, Kellen was happy, I now have enough paint to finish the living room, and I got the world's best fudgesicle.

On second thought, it might have been a perfect evening after all.

PS. At the game Wednesday night, some of the other parents were talking about whether we would start practice for next season next week, or take a small break before tryouts, which take place in June. They all unanimously agreed they would like to continue practicing so the boys don't lose too much of their skill over the summer.

Seriously? Are you kidding me?

We LOVED this team, and consider it a great experience. But we are taking a few weeks off. To play army men and eat fudgesicles.

Kellen will try out again in June, then come July, we will be one of THOSE FAMILIES who tries to juggle simultaneous sports, when he attempts to play his first season of football at the same time as his second year of competitive soccer.

Yeah. Good luck with that.

You can't teach an old dog (that would be ME) new tricks

2009-05-20T23:05:00.005-05:00

I signed up a few weeks ago to take an online course -- Introduction to Photoshop CS4. I bought the Photoshop software several months ago, but shockingly, what I discovered (much to my extreme dismay) was that simply *possessing* the software doesn't magically impart the knowledge of how to *utilize* the software into your brain. Neither does installing the software, or playing with the software. Hmmmm. Who knew?

So a friend (Hi, Katie!) suggested an online course from a company (company?) she had used previously, and I signed up, thinking it would be a snap. I had already used previous versions of Photoshop, and was actually pretty comfortable with them --- I just needed someone to tell me how the new and improved bells and whistles work. I mean, I don't mean to be smug about it, but with the exception of the new features, I could probably TEACH the class, right? How hard could it be?

Wow.

Could I have been more wrong???

Week One, people, and I've already had to ask for message board help twice --- IN WEEK ONE!!!

The other students are all "Hi, good to be back!" and "Hey, thanks for the quick refresher!" and "The homework this week was so fun and easy!!!" OK, you have to imagine the tone of voice and snippy little hand gestures I am seriously using to make fun of these people who I am clearly jealous of ..... Because, um, hello!? They all seem to know what the heck they are doing already, and I suspect a few of them are totally sucking up to the teacher {not really, but I'm being a poor sport about this} and I couldn't be more pathetic if I tattoo'd the word "NEWBIE" across my forehead.

As part of my homework, I was supposed to post a screenshot image, which I had no idea how to do. I was supposed to have this cool title bar above my images, which were not there. And tonight, while desperately trying to get my homework uploaded to share before the deadline, I realized that ............. I do not know how to upload my images so that more than one image at a time shows on a subdirectory on my website. So instead of sending one link, showing my five assignments ...... I had to send five separate links, thereby clearly labeling me The Biggest Doofus To Ever Take This Class In The History Of Doofus --es.

And not only is it the teacher who will immediately recognize my doofus-ness, but all students in the class have access to each other's homework images --- which basically means everyone in the class knows already --- remember, it's WEEK FREAKING ONE --- that I am clearly the class idiot.

Do they actually *make* virtual dunce hats??? Because I have a freakishly big head and will need one in XXL.