I'm entirely too young to have a middle schooler.

It's true.  Tonight, at the "Incoming 6th Graders Parent Meeting," an older man was sitting behind me, and when the principal announced the t-shirts that boasted "Class of 2020" on the back, he said, "That makes me feel really old."  I looked back at him, smiled, and said, "Right?!"  He stared at me, dumbfounded, then said, "I thought you were the babysitter."

And right about then, my life was complete.  As we were pulling into the parking lot, I told N, "I'm entirely too young and too hot to have a middle schooler." and we both promptly burst out laughing.  It was just funny.  What wasn't funny, though, was the serious lack of electives options the 6th graders have.  There are a total of 7 choices, and they each have to pick 3.  N is not a band/choir/theatre person, so that leaves him with art as his fine arts elective.  Then he has to choose between P.E., a Math/Science Investigations thing, and/or a Creative Reading/Writing Workshop.  All year.  Three of them.  He's not that thrilled...

The counselor claims more options are available in 7th grade, but she didn't seem too sure of herself either.  After it was over, N's dad joined us for dinner at Pei Wei, where I got the most bizarre fortune in my fortune cookie.  Ever.

After we left, N and I had the following conversation:

Me: Are you seriously eating a fortune cookie in my car?
N: I'm addicted!
(Insert loud crunch and flying fortune cookie pieces here)
Me: See? This is exactly why we do NOT eat in my car.
N: Yeah...that was rather unFORTUNate.
(Insert laughter that rivals Squints on The Sandlot)
Me (laughing): And that pretty much seals the deal. You're my child.
(Maniacal laughter continues, compliments of N)
Me: ...and you're a little psycho.
N: I get all my psycho from you.

I have to tell you, he and I have been quite the comedy duo today.  I love times like this...but sometimes they go a little too far...like when he says he's staying up until 10:00, and I say "NO" and he thinks I'm joking and I have to get mad.

I don't particularly care for that portion of life.

Nor do I care for this cough that keeps holding on...it makes it really hard to rock out in my car.

Aubs

Just call me "Sloth"

I took the boys to school this morning, and came back home to get in bed.  I slept until 2:05, and it was glorious.  Simply glorious.

I woke up well-rested, but in a horrible mood.  The boys came home from school in horrible moods.

I think I've asked at least 4 times this evening if it's a full moon...the mood just hadn't made its appearance yet.

Practice also led me to believe it might be a full moon.  The boys were all over the place: not focusing, messing around, being lazy.  Their coach, who rarely gets angry, got really upset with them and told them "Practice isn't for messing around...it's for being serious.  We have a lot to do."

Fifteen minutes later, when he was hitting balls for fielding practice and smashing them way out into nowhereland: "Sorry, I'm just messing around."

I had to speak up with an, "Excuse me, Mr. Serious.  Practice isn't for messing around...it's for being serious."

And there wasn't one person NOT laughing. 

When N tried to close the trunk of my car on me, there wasn't one person laughing...there was one person (me) who was extremely pissed.

Imagine that.

And now, I'm ready to go to bed again.  In fact, I can't wait.  And I'm hoping tomorrow will find me back to my jovial self.  Because crankpot?  It's not my favorite feeling.

Ever.

Aubs

Post-Relay

Y'all.  I have no idea how I'm even conscious right this second.  This will be brief.  I promise.

You can stop cheering now.  No, really.  Stop.

It was hot yesterday.  I have a fantastic t-shirt tan/sunburn on my arms.  It's not cute.  But it was for cancer, so I can deal.  My mom made it out in time to announce herself as a survivor, and then she did the Survivor lap while everyone cheered her on.  Then she and I did the caregiver/survivor lap and looked for our Luminaria bags along the track.  I found hers, but couldn't find any of the others.  I found them later...they hadn't been put out yet.

There were a lot of things that were entertaining: Zumba, races, different booths, and there were a TON of Coppell's youth out there.  It made for entertainment as they walked by, bits and pieces of their conversations mixing with others.  We laughed a lot.  B had a blast: he was running all over the place, never stopping long unless sugar was involved.  N found some buddies from school, and they played frisbee and catch and a zillion other things.  At one point, N and two of his friends were doing a 4-legged race lap, and B and his friend were doing a 3-legged race lap.  It was hilarious!

B finally passed out a little before 1:00, and N was playing his DS under a blanket.  It got cold and damp really fast.  I put B inside a tent, and N left with his dad.  At 3:30, I was cold, tired, and hacking, and I said, "I'm done."  Plus, my ears were "bleeding" because of this "band" that was on stage.  They butchered every single song they played, and kept "encoring" themselves.  It was horrid.

I loaded up all of my stuff and B, then we went home.  I finally drifted off around 4:30 or 5:00 and my precious B woke me up at 7:57 a.m.  Thanks, B!  We had a lazyish morning, but N had tryouts for All Stars (a tournament baseball team), so we had to meet up with him and get to that.

Fast forward to 2 hours of sleep and 2 hours outside on a hot, sunny, Sunday afternoon.  It was not my happiest afternoon, but N had a great tryout.  We should know in a few days if he made it or not, but his coach is really playing him up as the tournament team's catcher.  We'll see.  I know N would love it he made it.

I'm forcing myself to stay up as late as possible in hopes that my schedule will get back on track. 

Yeah.  Right.

Aubs

Pre-Relay

This one is going to be super early and super short.  I started my morning at 7:30, which was probably a poor choice on my part.  N had a game at 10:45, so we had to be at the ball fields a little after 10:00, and I knew B and my mom would be coming not long after the game began. 

I am so impressed with our U10 Giants.  They've really come together as a team, and when they all show up, they really do well together.  Only one of our players was unable to attend this game, but the rest of them were ready to go!  N has essentially become the catcher for the team.  Nobody else wants to do it.  Well, one other kid has expressed interest, but he also loves to pitch, so N usually catches for the majority of the games.  He loves it, and he's gotten really good at it.  It's so awesome as a parent to see him grow and excel.  All of these boys have really grown from the start of the season to present.  I'm like a proud mama of all 10 of them!

When my mom and B showed up, the Giants were up 5-0, and they never looked back.  I had to leave to take B to his game, but the final score was something like 12-3, and N and the pitcher had a conference on the pitcher's mound.  Nothing was said, aside from "Dude, act like we're being serious.  DON'T LAUGH!" but it intimidated the other team like nobody's business.

Meanwhile, in the U7 league, the majority of our players were afraid of the ball after last night's accident.  My B kept jumping out of the batter's box each time the pitch came towards him.  It was so frustrating, and I felt so bad for him.  The coaches are seriously frustrated, too.  I can't say I blame them.  Maybe 7 year-olds should wear face guards too...

Now we're home, packing up for the Relay.  I'm pretty sure I'm already exhausted and we haven't even gotten there yet.

Aubs

C.R.U.N.C.H.

I was sitting in class this morning, zoning out while my professor told another story that was a total tangent of whatever it was we had been talking about, and realized if B could stay at my mom's tonight, he could sleep in a little, and N and I could go to his game on time and then they could meet us there.  B has decided that he's going to stay up all night at the Relay for Life with me on Saturday night, and since he has a 12:00 game tomorrow and we won't have time to take a nap, I figure the more sleep he can get, the better.  So, I text my mom...and she didn't respond.  Grrr!  When class ended a little later, I decided I'd go around the corner to her office and pitch my idea to her.  As I was getting ready to walk out of the classroom, my professor was talking to another student about something course-related.  He saw me leaving, and asked the student to wait a moment.  He nodded, confused, and the professor turned to me and said, "Okay, so here are a few tips I have for you to teach your boys about throwing." and proceeded to give me some tips on how I can help increase velocity and accuracy.  The other student just stared, and I almost giggled.  I love my former baseball coach professor.  He's just the sweetest!

I went over to my mom's office, and she thought it sounded like a great idea.  B is her grandson who loves to play board games, and he thinks his Nana is the best opponent.  I told her we could meet up after B's baseball game this evening, and make the exchange.  She agreed, and I was relieved that I would only have one kiddo to deal with tonight while I still wasn't feeling the absolute best.

I feel better, don't get me wrong...much, MUCH better.  But trying to wrangle two kids through baseball tonight, baseball tomorrow, AND the Relay?  I don't think I'd survive.  Okay, I might survive, but I'm not sure both of them would.  Since N won't be staying all night at the Relay (he has tryouts for a tournament team on Sunday afternoon, so he needs his rest), I figured getting him up earlier and going to his game would make the most sense.  Plus, I'm the team mom (I'd call my self the "hub" but that sounds a little presumptuous), and I have to make sure everyone has made the changes they need to make to their helmets...namely, putting face guards onto them.

Speaking of which...in the U7 league that B plays in, it's coach pitch.  The coaches always feel bad when they hit a kid on the leg or the hand or the back, but tonight the coach of the other team had to have felt AWFUL.  This kid was up to bat, and he threw the ball, and it hit him...right smack dab in the middle of his FACE.  I could hear it crunch from my seat in the bleachers, and there was a horrified gasp from pretty much everyone as the kid grabbed his face and started screeching in pain.  That poor little boy...he wouldn't let the coach touch his face, and man, I don't blame him one bit.  His mom ran out there and took him off to the side.  Someone got him a popsicle and an ice pack, and they got the bleeding to stop.  I didn't see how bad it was, but it HAD to hurt.  That coach kept pitching, but ended up hitting a couple more batters.

Because that kid was injured, they didn't have enough players, so N stepped in to "catch" for the opposing team.  That's when he got hit by OUR coach in the chin with the ball (I had just put his face guard back on) AND on the next pitch, his own brother (who was up to bat) hit him in the chin AGAIN with the bat.  He was not very thrilled by the time the game was over...but, to be fair, he DID volunteer.

Our Rangers lost the game, 15-10, but my B backed up the other B at first base and made a great out to end an inning.  He was so proud of himself!  He also acted as "pitcher" for a couple of innings, and had a blast.  He made a couple of good throws, but all of our boys were zoning out on the field tonight.  I hope they get some good rest tonight for our game tomorrow.

I know my B will.  He was headed to Nana's to climb a couple of trees, play a couple of games, and go to bed so he could wake up in the morning and water plants.

He's so busy!

Aubs

Chicken soup is good for my soul, and so is President Bush

When I woke up this morning, after a NyQuil-induced sleep, I wasn't sure how I would feel.  I was rested, which is a new feeling for me, and I could tell my voice was on its last legs.  After I took the boys to school, I thought about going back to sleep, or even taking more NyQuil, but opted against it.  I caught up on email, read the blogs I follow, and watched the news.  I remembered the George W. Bush Presidential Center at SMU was being dedicated today, so I turned the television back on.  Imagine...being in the general vicinity of all five of our nation's living presidents all at one time!

I got a little teary thinking about all of the good that came from some of those men and their leadership.  I won't lie.  It was a moment I never would've expected.  Government and politics aren't really my thing.  Yes, I have a general idea of what's going on, and there are some things I am passionate about, but I focus more on the here and now and not the big picture.  I like to keep things in my own little bubble, folks.  It's safer here, and it always smells like Cherry Blossom from Bath & Body Works.  Who wouldn't love that?  I mean...aside from someone who doesn't like Cherry Blossom from Bath & Body Works, but I don't know who couldn't love that.

Tangent: Have you ever found the "smell" that seemed to be tailor-made just for you?  The scent that people smell and automatically associate with you, one that you might have never thought of on your own, but once you smell it, it's just...you?  That's Cherry Blossom for me.  It's weird.  It smells different on every person, but it just fits me.  And, lucky for me, I love it.  So it's a win all around!

Okay, then.

I also decided I really wanted some spicy chicken tortilla soup.  It's the best when you're sick and you can't breathe, but you want to rejoin the human race sooner rather than later.  Unfortunately, I was out of onion.  And Kleenex, because Kleenex are vital to the recipe.  So, I set the remainder of the Bush Library coverage to record, and I took off for Market Street by way of Target.  They're not close, but I really feel it's vital to visit both in case one has something the other doesn't.  Target had Kleenex.  Market Street had the greatness of three firetrucks full of firefighters and a few police officers...all shopping for food. 

Needless to say, it was a great shopping trip.  Lots to look at.

I got home and started the soup, then thought about writing a paper.  When I got over it, I cleaned up, set the soup to simmer, and decided I should look presentable for the Relay for Life meeting at school.  I packed a bag with Gatorade, crackers, and two video games, then took off for school.  After I got the boys situated, I listened to the rest of them discuss the Relay, and waited to be asked my opinion.  Yes, I know.  Very unlike me to wait...but I'm trying this whole "patience" thing on for size.  I'm not sure it's the right fit.

After the Relay meeting, we had an hour or two to kill before B's baseball practice, so we went home and the boys ate for at least an hour, and I complained about how they eat too much.  That's pretty much par for the course these days.  I dropped B and N at B's practice (I NEVER drop them, I always stay, but today, I just couldn't), and then went to my friend, Angela's, to drop off some soup.  She answered the door and said, "You didn't have to bring me soup.  You're the one who's sick."  This is one of probably a thousand reasons why we're friends.  She gets me, and I get her.  And that's awesome.  Because everyone should have at least one friend like that.  As an added bonus, our kids like each other, and she doesn't freak out during my children's moments of total insanity, and I don't freak out during hers.  We're kindred spirits.

And that's pretty great.

After I got home and got the boys to bed, I decided I should write my paper.  It needed to be about something I knew to be true, something I had firsthand experience with...and so I wrote about how terrifying it was to get a phone call from N telling me something was wrong with B, and the events that lead to B's admission to the ICU at Children's Medical Center last summer.  And I know, without a doubt, that it will be something others can relate to.

Because hearing news that something bad happened to your kid is any parent's worst nightmare.

Aubs

P.S. For the record, B is okay.  He's totally fine...but for a while, I was afraid he wouldn't be.  And then he started being a pain in the rear again, and I knew we'd turned a corner. 

This is why Mom should never be allowed to get sick...

It's official.  I'm about 37 hours away from losing my voice.  It's slowly going out on me, and although I have several boys who have gallantly offered to yell instructions for me, all but one of them have admitted that they may or may not yell out what I tell them to say.  So, I just do my best, and then double over in a hacking fit, which provides amusement for the people who know I'm sick and disproving looks from those who think I'm a walking ad for lung cancer. 

It's win-win...somehow.  I've been doing my best to rest as much as possible, but there's just so much I need to be doing right now.  It really is a crazy time for me: school years winding down, assignments all over the place, and the job hunt.  Oh, the job hunt.  I spent the majority of the day trying to see how long I could go without a coughing fit, and gearing myself up for a trip to Academy to get the clips for N's face guard for his batting helmet.  I didn't make it before they got home from school, so they "got" to come with me...and they were overjoyed.  Only, they weren't, even though I told them it would take approximately 3 minutes once we entered the store...and I was true to my word.  We were walking out in under 4 minutes, clips in hand.

After we got back home, they (sort of) played nicely together while I put the face guards back on the batting helmets.  Then, the arguing started again.  They were arguing when they walked in the door this afternoon, and it feels like all three of us have been arguing all afternoon/evening.  And that's really hard to do when your voice is on its way out the door...

When we got to batting practice, B wanted so desperately to play with his big brother, and I encouraged it.  I did NOT encourage them to be crappy to each other, but when I tried to quietly and inconspicuously get onto them, I had very little luck since my voice is hoarse and raspy and that carries.  B was embarrassing N so N was trying to return the favor.  And I was over it.  All of it.  Thankfully, other boys started showing up, and while it wasn't a full practice (only 6 were there), they managed to get some good time in together.  I hope.

While my boys and one of the other boys were playing catch, while we were waiting for his mom to arrive, I walked over to the batting cage where N's old coach was throwing batting practice.  He saw me walk up and said, "N really got to me on Saturday.  He's gotten really good."  I thanked him and said it was an intense game, and that our last game of the regular season was going to be something else.  He laughed, shook his head, and said, "It's going to be something alright.  Now I know what I'm working against."  I told him it caught me off guard when I heard him telling N he made a good catch...against his own team, and he said, "Yeah, I kind of got carried away, but man!  That was an awesome catch!"

When I told N about our exchange on the way home, that boy was grinning from ear to ear.  We got home and the hacking started in full force.  At one point, I was cuddled in bed with B and we were waiting for N to get in bed.  When he got in there, I was hacking, B was sniffling, and N was sneezing.

N: Hey, we sound like an orchestra!
Me: Yep, we kind of do!
B: Is an orchestra like a band?
N: Yeah, pretty much. (blows his nose)
B: Hey!  That sounded like a tuba!
Me: Hahaha, yeah, it kind of did.
N: I can play percussion on my stomach.
Me: B, percussion is drums and stuff.
B: Here, I'll play percussion!

And he farted.  A lot.  And loudly.  And then I left.  Smelly boys and too many giggles, and I was coughing up a storm.

They fell asleep really quickly after that.

Or maybe they passed out from the smell.  Either way.  It's really quiet.  And the Rangers are playing on the West coast!

Aubs

Laughing and hacking

For the record, I haven't given up on my newest squat challenge.  I don't think I've even mentioned it, but despite the fact that I think I might be dying, I'm not quitting.  In fact, with each squat, I hack up a little piece of my lung.  It's a fantastic system.  This round has higher expectations...I'm on day 10 and already at 105 squats.  I'll let you know if I make it to the end with both of my lungs intact. 

Tonight was N's baseball game with the stand-in coach, since his coach is on the West coast for work.  All day, I was fielding emails about whether or not the game would take place.  It was 80 yesterday, and today it never got over 50...and it drizzled/sprinkled all day.  The game took place, much to the chagrin of, well, all of the parents.  And it was cold.  It made my hacking come out in full force.  It was so attractive.

And apparently, it was.  But more about that later.

We played a shortened game because of the state mandated testing that's happening tomorrow for 4th & 5th graders.  Apparently, nobody informed the umpires of our desire to start early and/or end promptly at 7:00 because they were not early.  At all.  When we finally got underway, the fun began.  N was catching, partially because he loves it, but also because he has his own gear.  Why?  Because he has the greatest mom in the entire world, that's why.  But don't ask him.  He won't give you that answer...or maybe he will, if he knows what's good for him!  The only other 5th grader on the team was pitching, and they got us off to a great start. 

I've always thought N was a good catcher, partially because I'm his mom I'm sure, but tonight, he showed everyone what he could do.  On two wild pitches, runners tried to steal home, and each time, thanks to the teamwork of N and his pitcher, they were tagged out before the crossed home plate.  TWICE!  He also caught runners stealing third twice, but only one of them was picked off because the kid playing third wasn't paying attention.  He was so proud of himself.  And so was his mom. 

In the last half inning, one of the Cardinals popped a ball up behind home plate, and N ran for it.  He flipped his helmet and ran back, glove extended, and collided with the concrete "curb" and fence.  He ricocheted off the fence, and the ball ricocheted off his eye socket.  He was so angry with himself, but if he'd made that catch...well, it would've been spectacular!

It just so happened that the commissioner of the league was at our game tonight.  He's coaching the All Stars tournament team this summer, and N has been told to try out.  He watched N extremely closely, and came over to sit by me to discuss the schedule and to make sure N was coming to tryouts.  He's already recruiting, apparently.  Our boys took the game 4-1.  The Cardinals had a full team, and we played with 8, so the boys were super proud of themselves.  And our stand-in coach did a fantastic job.

N and I have been at odds for the past day or two, and it's kind of silly, really.  I was wearing a dress on Sunday with my cowboy boots, and we went to take team pictures.  When we got back in the car AFTER pictures, N told me I needed to stop embarrassing him:

N: Mom, will you please stop embarrassing me?
Me: What?!  What did I even do?
N: You have to know.
Me: I have no idea.  There could be so many ways you think I'm embarrassing you.  About you not smiling for pictures?
N: No, Mom.  You DO know I can see your underwear through your dress, right?
Me: Oh my God, no you can't.
N: Yeah.  I can.  It says 'Designated Kisser' on your butt.
Me: Holy, shit, seriously?  I'm so embarrassed.
N: You mean, you didn't do it on purpose?
Me: N, seriously?  I had no clue that you could see through my dress...Wait.  Why didn't you tell me?!
N: I thought you knew.

Oh, fabulous.  See, there are a couple of parents who have had conversations with me lately that aren't necessarily baseball related.  And both of them have mentioned that I looked beautiful on Sunday, which makes me wonder...did they see "Designated Kisser" on my behind, too? 

I blame all of this on Craig Simpson and his stupid Yankees.  And our horrible bet on the World Series a couple of years ago. 

I just had to get that off my chest.

It's hard to determine if they did, in fact, see that because that would require asking them.  So I'm keeping my mouth shut.  I seriously never thought my life would be this bizarre.

It IS me though, so I probably should've learned by now to expect the unexpected...like the coach's son asking me to paint his nails orange so he could show team spirit.  That kid...he cracks me up!

This is such a fun team!  I'll really miss them...all of them, kids and parents.

Aubs

When the cat's away...

...the mice will play.  And play, they did.  N's baseball coach is traveling this week, so one of the dad's has taken over practices and their game.  We scheduled practice early because 8 of the 10 players are in 4th grade and have STAAR testing this week.  N has it on Wednesday, but 4th graders have it both Tuesday & Thursday.  Anyway, 9 of the players showed up at 5:30 (an hour and a half before we usually have practice) and we had a pretty productive practice.

At least...I think we did.  I was teaching a sister and stepdad how to make a fleece blanket while the allergens were blowing all over the place.  I swear, I sneezed 58 times during that 90 minute period.  One of the players who's usually the life of the party was in a really foul mood, so that made it kind of rough on him, but it was still a decent practice.  When they left, they seemed like they were prepared for their game.  We'll see how it goes tomorrow.

I feel like death warmed over, hit by a Mack truck, and then stuck in the microwave again.  The way I feel is why this post will be ridiculously short and I was already in bed, ready to go to sleep at 8:30.

Then N's coach called to get a report on how practice went, so we talked for a little bit about practice and what he wanted for the game, and how his kid is a total hoot and wants me to paint his nails orange so he can show team spirit.

I love the dynamic of this team.  I wish they could stick together.  For the most part, they're a total blast.  The parental dynamic isn't too bad either!

Aubs

The day I wished the weekend was just one day longer

I really do.  Normally, I'm ready to send the boys back to school on Monday.  I all but shove them out the door...but today?  I wish I had an extra day.  Not because of anything in particular, I just don't want to wake up to an alarm.  Yeah, I know.  Whambulance.  Headed my way.

N and I went to get donuts this morning, which is odd because I'm not a donut fan.  Ever.  I obviously feel crappy.  After a quick donut run, we stopped at Sonic for some tea (do NOT ever get the Green Sweet Mint Iced Tea) and headed home.  I sat around, trying to breathe, N watched "Red Tails" for the eleventy-seventh time this weekend, and I ignored my homework.

His friend called to see if he could come over, and I agreed, but reminded him that we had baseball pictures later in the afternoon.  He left, and I said I'd come get him, and bring his uniform.  He was NOT happy.  He didn't think team pictures meant wearing a uniform.  Um, what do you think it means?  Sheesh!

I was a lump on the couch, reading a book, and avoiding the homework that I knew was due...and then it was time to go take pictures!  I collected N, and we went to the little ball fields for pictures.  He wouldn't smile.  So I embarrassed him.  Proudly.  And the photographer agreed with me, telling him we'd keep going until I was happy.  I also threatened to give away a Halo video game to a lucky member of his team if he didn't smile.  That got smiles from all of the other players in attendance.  N?  Not so much.

Later, after he griped at me for 10 minutes about how that makes him a "mama's boy," I told him, "Oh man, I should've said 'ARGH, Matey!'  I bet you would've laughed then."  His smile?  I've never seen one that big.  I filed it away for future reference, for sure.

We came home and he watched Battleship while I worked on my homework for a little bit.  Then he showered and got in bed, and I got ready to take my test.  And then I realized I had a mini research assignment due too.

Yick.

So now I'm off to do speedy quick research on Endocarditis and hope for the best.  Since I got 60 points out of a possible 50 points (Yep, 10 extra points) on the memo I had to write for my Friday class, I'm not too worried.  Writing assignments are pretty easy for me...I was blessed with the gift of being long-winded, not that any of y'all think that of me, I'm sure.


Aubs

Most. Intense. Day. Ever.

*Disclaimer: For some reason, my posts have not been posting when I click on "Publish."  Hopefully, I've gotten it figured out now, but bear with me.  I don't think it's operator error, but I'm open to the possibility.

Friday, I woke up feeling really crappy...balloon head, stuffy nose, watery eyes, the whole nine yards.  In fact, I even wore my glasses to school, which doesn't happen often.  Read: ever.

See?  I don't even look like I feel that great.  And I totally didn't.  I suffered my way through class, and went on about my business.  Saturday, I woke up feeling about 70 times worse.  It was 7 am, I felt crappy, and the last thing I wanted to do was go sit and freeze at a baseball field for 5 hours.

Except I was really excited to go.  I watched a tutorial on how to open a champagne bottle (I've never had to do it before) and then made some mimosas to take to the game.  Had I known how cold it was, I would've made Irish Coffee.  Mmmm, that sounds good right now, actually.  Hmmm....

When we got to the park, N's old coach was unloading his gear two cars over from us.  He and N started talking, and he told N, "You can't use any of our signs.  It's a league rule.  And it's also a rule that you can't get any of my players out or hit them with a pitch or do anything to keep them from winning."  N and I just laughed, but now that I think about it, he looked a little nervous.

His team?  They're undefeated.  They've been together for two spring seasons (although they'll have to break up after this season is completed) and they really work well together.  So, when we held them to zero runs in the first inning, I knew that was huge.  When N's old coach went over to talk to the home plate umpire (which, apparently, you aren't supposed to do) and argued with him about strike zone and how the balls coming in weren't strikes, but N was grabbing them and making them appear to be strikes, the umpire got downright ugly and told him to get out of his face and not talk to him anymore.  That kind of caused N's old coach to blow his top...and the game went downhill from there.

Both sides were argumentative...but on the other team's side, the parents were getting in on it.  At one point, the umpires both said, "One more word...any of you, and you're out of the park."  They meant business.

After we held them to zero runs, we "run ruled" them.  We scored five to end the inning, and the boys were ELATED!  They came back and "run ruled" us in the following inning, and when one of our coaches asked a question about the batting order (they can drop a player they're missing to the bottom of the rotation in case he shows up, but if he's not there, it's technically supposed to be an out), N's old coach jumped on the defensive bandwagon and stayed there for the rest of the game.  His son was late, another kid chipped a tooth, and the order got messed up.  He was kind of being crappy, yelling, "What?  Do you want me to take an out?" and our coach was like, "No.  I was just trying to figure out where we were in the rotation.  Calm down."

Y'all.  Our Giants beat the Marlins!  We won 8-7 (I think), and that was a HUGE win for us.  I was talking to our coach after the game while the boys were eating a snack (we had another game right after) and he said, "It was personal.  He wanted to beat me so badly."  All I can say is, personal or not, our Giants have grown by leaps and bounds in the past week or two.  It's insane, and I'm so excited to be able to see their progress.  That win did so much for their morale...and it was so much fun, even if it was entirely too tense.  I looked at the schedule and announced that the Marlins are also our last game of the regular season.  Oh man.  That's going to be a good one!

We played the Cardinals next.  They were the first team we played this season, the game where they "beat" us, but lost because they didn't have enough players.  They asked some Marlins to stick around and help them not have to forfeit, but even with two Marlins, we had to lend them two of our players...  Essentially, we won both games on Saturday, so our boys were flying high!  The best part?  The newest member of our team has never played baseball until he started with us on Monday.  Monday he got hit by 3 pitches and told his mom it was the best day ever.  Tuesday, he had his first game, and proclaimed THAT the best day ever.  Saturday, he scored a couple of runs, AND made the final out to end the second game...just by holding his glove up in a Sandlot-esque move.

Best.  Day.  Ever.  His grin was so huge, I thought his face was going to break in two.  I love that he's having a blast.

After the game, I gave my shoes to N so he didn't have to wear his cleats to lunch, and drove home in my socks.  I crawled directly into bed, and slept for 3 hours.  I woke up, got N ready (he had come home while I was napping), and we went to babysit my two favorite kiddos and their friend.  While N & the sweetest two year-old I know played pirates (N with an eye patch, bandanna, and sword was a sight to be seen...and totally precious), Chuck It, Chicken (super cute board game), and watched "Wreck It Ralph," I painted nails in patterns, washed their snack dishes, and listened to the girls play "art school."  Then it was bedtime, so I got the girls situated while N read his new BFF a book and tucked him in.  N smiled the whole time.

He had a blast.  He won't admit it, but he did.  And I even paid him, which made him happier...then I reminded him that he owed me $30 for a stupid Under Armour hoodie fiasco, and he laughed.  I wasn't being funny.

We came back home, discussed donuts in the morning, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to beat him in the sleep race once again...

Aubs

Movie Date Friday!

During class today, my professor actually had to say, "Okay, y'all, listen up.  I love conversing with Aubrey, but this class is not mean to be a two-way conversation.  Some of y'all need to get involved here."

Fifteen minutes later, he was still waiting for someone to answer a question, so he looked at me with a helpless look, I answered the question, he rolled his eyes, and we moved on.  It's pathetic, people...especially since this is a government-based class, and I'm not a huge fan of politics.  During a break, he asked how the boys' baseball seasons were going, and asked if N had been taught how to block the plate when he plays catcher.  I told him I wasn't sure, so he said he'd show me if I wanted.

Y'all.  He's the sweetest grandfatherly type.  Despite his knees cracking every single time he crouched down, he made sure I could show N how to block the plate and tag the runner out as easily as possible.  He even said I should bring him to class again, and he'd show him after class was over.  He's a good guy.  He's also given me the maximum extra credit points possible, and I haven't completed all of the extra credit assignments.  He said my participation is more than enough.

I agree, good sir.

After N got home from school, we took off to go see 42.  I promised him I'd take him, and all the friends we were going to go see it with were unable to go, so it was just the two of us.  And 4 other people.  In the entire theater.  It was awesome.  And he loved it.  He said, "Mom, I should've made a Twitter profile for Jackie Robinson, not LeBron James."  Um, yeah.  What was your first clue?

We went to an earlier movie so N could still have some time to go to his friend's house before an earlyish bedtime for our double-header Saturday morning.  I dropped him off at his friend's house, and got a load or two of laundry done in the couple of hours he was gone.  Honestly though, I didn't feel like doing much.  I woke up feeling all "meh" like I was getting a cold, and all I wanted to do was go to bed early.

After I picked him up, I got into bed before he did...and now, it's not even 10:30, and my eyes are closing.

Baseball tomorrow.  It's going to be nuts!  We're playing N's old coach, and they're the best team in the U10 league.  Should be exciting!!!

Aubs

Girls.

I'm in big trouble, y'all...There are several girls in N's grade that live in our apartment complex.  They walk around, heads together, giggling like, well...girls.  They come and knock on our door, giggle when I answer, and laugh hysterically when they hear N say, "Mom!  Tell them I'm not here."  He obviously hasn't quite mastered the art of speaking quietly.

They came this afternoon, and I could hear them giggling before they even knocked.  Normally, N is annoyed...but this time, I whispered, "Hey, it's a bunch of girls." and he made this face.  It was like he was trying to act like he was irritated, but underneath that irritation was a HUGE smile.  And that scares me. 

That was at 4:00.  He hung out outside with them for at least an hour, then came inside to get his shoes and a hoodie.  He said he was going to go downstairs to talk, and I peeked out several times to see him with one of the girls and a few boys, just hanging out.  I'm torn because I'm happy he's made friends, but these girls?  They're ruthless.

They kept asking to come inside and he kept refusing.  They kept telling him they wanted to see the inside of his house, and he kept saying there was no way.  Finally, the "annoying girl" left, and it was just the one girl and the other boys.  He invited her and one of the boys in, but did so in front of the others who were not invited.  Apparently he didn't pay attention when I taught that lesson about exclusion and how unkind it is.  I made a note to revisit.

Here's the problem...the girl?  It's his best friend's girlfriend.  We've had this discussion before.  I've explained he can be friends with her and friends with his friend, but if he can't keep his feelings in check, he needs to stop talking to her.  Chances are, they won't date forever, but I'm trying to think of a way to tell him the whole "Bros before hoes" bro code without using the word "hoes."  I just can't find anything that has a nice ring to it.

I explained that if he opts to "steal" her, he will not only lose his best buddy, but probably her as well, not to mention he'll be labeled as a girlfriend stealer for the remainder of his days here.  That would not bode well for him.  He was having such a great time outside, I didn't call him in because I didn't want to embarrass him.  He didn't have any homework, and he was in a good mood, and we didn't have any plans, so I was okay with it. 

He finally came in around 8:00.  Starving.  Lovesick.  And moody.  Sheesh, we're moody already and we're only 10?

I vote...No.

Aubs

Here we grow again...

Seriously, at least once a week, N outgrows something.  I realize this is normal, but wouldn't it be awesome if you could just push a button (the belly button perhaps?), and all of the growing he was going to do in a year would happen automatically.  He'd shoot up 6 inches or so, his feet would go up a size or so, and I wouldn't have several pair of shorts and twice as many shirts that are suddenly too small for him and entirely too massive for his brother.

A girl can dream.

I noticed his baseball pants looked a little tight at his game on Tuesday.  So did several others.  He said they were comfortable, a little tight at first, but comfortable.  They looked anything but.  So, when he got home from school, I asked him if his clothes were okay, or if they were getting tight.  His reply?  "Mom, sometimes it's hard to breathe."  The boy needed some clothes, and since it was just us, we headed off to Grapevine Mills to visit the Nike store. 

He kept getting discouraged because there was a serious lack of youth large in stock.  He started complaining that he was fat, and I told him, almost angrily, "You're not fat.  Youth large is the most popular size."  He's not fat.  He has a little bit of a tummy on him, but once he actually hits this growth spurt in full force, he's going to have to deal with it.  And I can't stand that it gives him a complex, but I get it.  Because when I ask if something makes me look fat, and he says "no," I don't necessarily believe him either.  Kids are supposed to be brutally honest, and mine consistently lie to try to save my feelings.  I'm touched...I think.

Anyway, we found some stuff, and the lovely salesperson charged me twice because the register timed out.  Super.  We finished up, swung by Under Armour to see if they had anything interesting (they didn't) since I'm stuck with a $30 gift card from a return without a receipt, and headed home to get ready for practice.  I saw a few raindrops, but they were just precursors of what was to come AFTER practice was over.  I'm super thankful for that because N and I have plans to go watch 42 on Friday, and we wouldn't be able to if practice had been pushed to Friday.

We got to practice and ran into Angela and her kiddos!  While I'm sad that our boys aren't on the same team, I'm glad that we run into each other fairly regularly at the practice fields.  She was telling me that her son said they should come see more of N's games because they get to see lots of people they know.  I agree! 

Practice was a mess.  The boys were having a great time, but I don't really know how much was actually accomplished.  They spent a ton of time discussing Halo, jumping around while shrieking, and some of them opted to use their bats as machine guns.   All entertaining to watch, mind you, but frustrating as well, especially since we're playing the toughest team in the league on Saturday morning as game 1 of our double header.  

Not only that, our coach is going to be out of town all next week, so one of the dads is taking over for the week...and the coach has put me in charge of everything but coaching.  This is a dangerous move, although it's also arguable that I've been in charge of everything else for the last few weeks.

Depending on how you look at it...

Aubs

It's a great day to be a baseball fan

Not only is today the second day of MLB honoring Jackie Robinson by wearing 42 on their jerseys (Those teams that didn't play yesterday are honoring him tonight), but both of my boys had games tonight.

At 6:00.  On opposite ends of town.  Of course.  (Spoiler Alert: Both teams won!  And both boys made some awesome plays...both at first base!)

B is with his dad this week, so I attended N's game, and it was so much fun!  We were playing some friends from his team last fall, so I had people to talk to.  Not only that, but my friend Angela (her son is one of N's best pals) messaged me on Facebook to find out when his game was, so they came, too!  It was like a mini-reunion.  Three of the boys were playing, one was watching (he's playing Select ball this season), and all the moms were catching up.

It did my soul some good.  I absolutely adore these ladies.  I'm so glad we got lumped together last fall, and I wish we were playing together again this season.  Hopefully next season will find us with more familiar faces on our team.

The Giants ended up winning against the Reds.  I took a picture of my Giant and me before we left for his game, and was so thrilled that we got a good shot on the first try!  It never happens, nor does N EVER let me take pictures of him.

It was a big deal.  Also, I have mentioned on multiple occasions (especially today) that each time I put on anything "Giants" related, a little piece of me dies a little.  I'm so glad B's on the Rangers.  We talked about how they ended up being the Giants, and it basically boils down to this...the coach allowed his son to choose the team.  I told him to pick a team with a light colored shirt next time.  He agreed.

All was right with the world after that.  N played first base for a couple of innings, then he pitched.  And he wasn't happy about it...in fact, he was unhappy enough that the coach pulled him from pitching and then N had a bit of a pity party.  Later, after the game, and after N found out his friend came to watch him and was running all over the place with a BLUE snowcone.  On a school night.  Ahem.  Anyway, I got a text asking if N was okay, and asking if there was anything he could do.  He who?  Exactly my thought.  So I text back, asking if it was N's coach.  I don't have his number.

It was.  Which was a relief.  Because who knows?  Anyway, I think N is loving this season a whole lot more than he claims to.  He's having a ton of fun...and I'm loving the parents.  Not as much as I love my moms from last season, but they're fun.  And practice?  Well, it's never boring when they show up.  In fact, we have a doubleheader this weekend, and had a mini-mom sign-up sheet.  I'm bringing mimosas.  Haha!  So fun!

The blue cooler will be out in full force!

Aubs

What a day...

Know what's fun?  When your precious child gives you his Friday folder 10 minutes before you're going to leave to take him to school, only to discover that there are THREE "correct & return" papers in his folder.  THREE.

He might be grounded until the end of the school year now.  I say that like it's a long time or something...It just extends his current grounding by a month.  I haven't relented, much to the chagrin of my 5th grader, and I don't intend to.  I think he realizes I actually mean business.

I feel like I got a lot accomplished in a short time today: Grocery shopping, lunch with B, laundry, dishes, dinner in the crockpot, more laundry, all before 2:00 pm.  By the time the boys got home, I was working on the last homework assignment I had due today, and as soon as that was done, it was time for practice.

B's dad came to get him, so N and I were flying solo for practice tonight.  I emailed a bunch of the parents, asking them if they knew anyone who wanted to join our team so we'd have a full roster.  Luckily, one of the parents found someone, so after exchanging phone calls and emails, and clearing it with the commissioner, we had a full roster! 

He came to practice, and even though he's never played baseball on a team before, he has a lot of raw talent.  All of the boys showed up tonight, and they had a great, albeit hysterical, practice.  They were all being so goofy and having a great time.  I emailed the coach to let him know what I'd overheard at practice; specifically how we (the parents) thought it would be beneficial to have the kids practice hitting off of a kid pitcher.  He welcomed my suggestions and they had a scrimmage of sorts tonight.  They all had a blast.

My kid was a nut.  He even started pitching.  After practice, the coach pulled him aside for a conversation that went a little something like this:

N's Coach: Hey, I'm going to start you as my pitcher tomorrow.
N: Um, yeah...I don't think that would be in your best interest.
N's Coach: Hahaha, I appreciate your honesty, but I think you're good to go.
N: Well...don't say I didn't warn you! 

Everyone was laughing by the time they finished. Crazy practice tonight...but super fun! Everyone laughed a lot, which, in the grand scheme of things, is just what we needed. I can't stand all the hate and "ugly" in the world right now. I welcome a happy, carefree life in a bubble...even if it's only for 2 hours.

I don't even want to talk about it right now, but here's my Facebook post from earlier today about the Boston Marathon bombing:

I'm so angry right now, I could just spit...why must there be so much evil in this world? Nobody, American or otherwise, should have to live in fear, and during an event such as the Boston Marathon? If anyone was wanting to see if Americans could be shaken, they're in for a rude awakening. Just like in so many battles before this one, America is a sleeping giant. Wake us, and prepare to suffer the consequences. We cannot live our lives in fear, and those who try to make us afraid to live our lives are the cowards, not us. We will band together, just as we have through countless tragedies, and we will be stronger. Attack at your own risk, but be prepared to face the wrath of a country that is stronger, more resilient, and more full of pride and patriotism than any other country in the world. We will prevail...we always do. God bless those who are directly affected by this act of cowardice. You are not alone, not now or ever.

And I think that pretty much sums it up, folks.

Aubs 

Birds. They're out to get me.

You think I'm kidding, but I'm not.

After getting up this morning and making the boys breakfast tacos, I sat down to do some schoolwork...only I got sidetracked doing more laundry.  Oh, and breaking up arguments. 

Always fun.  They got over their issues and started playing video games, and for quite some time, I didn't hear a word out of them.  Did I do my homework?  No.  I didn't do much of anything.

Genius.  I know.

Fast forward to 6:00 in the evening...and I'm making breakfast for dinner.  I'm frying bacon and waiting for the griddle to get hot so I can start making pancakes, when I hear this chirping noise.  And it sounds really close.  In the living room...but I know the television's off, so I put down the tongs, and peek around the corner of by the sink.

Y'all.

There was a bird on the bookcase that houses our movies and video games.  INSIDE my apartment.  One of my boys left the back sliding glass door open, and it flew right in.  I've never understood what it would feel like to be paralyzed by fear...until today.  I stood there, I'm not even sure I was breathing, while we stared each other down.  With a great ruffle of feathers and a flapping of wings, that bird flew back out the door. 

I sprinted around the counter, and slammed that door shut.  And then my phone started ringing.  It was my dad, and as I told him my worst nightmare had just happened, he said, "Your worst nightmare hasn't happened yet, but it might depending on how you answer the following question..." then proceeded to ask me if I had some of his dvds.

Not quite as nightmarish as having a BIRD IN MY APARTMENT!  I shook for 20 minutes.  And when I felt like I could talk to the boys without screaming, I explained what happened.  They apologized profusely, then started laughing...they know how I feel about birds.

It was not the best evening ever.  And I still hadn't done my homework.

The deadline has come and gone, and not only did I finish the assignments due, I did a couple of extra ones so I wouldn't feel rushed next Sunday.

This week is a busy week:
Monday: N fielding practice, B batting practice
Tuesday: Both boys have games at 6.  On opposite sides of town.
Wednesday: N batting practice
Thursday: B fielding practice
Friday: N batting practice, movie date to see "42"
Saturday: N double-header, B's game directly following...on opposite sides of town.

That's just baseball.  That's not including the homework I have to do, the tests I have to take, the research paper I have to write...or any of their homework. 

Oh boy!

Aubs

All things baseball

Today was just a baseball day.  N had a game at 9:00, and B and I were there in Giants apparel.  It still hurts to put on anything "Giants," but what wouldn't I do for my kid?  I knew one of his teammates wasn't going to be at the game today, but when another didn't show up, we were down to 7 players.  The other team had 8, so while we both technically had to forfeit, they got to claim the win since they had more players show up.

I'm not sure when/if our boys figured out they were playing for nothing, but our 7 boys beat the other team 13-10.  After I left to take B to his game, N hit an in-the-park homer.  I promise you, he did it just because I left. 

At B's game, they hit the ground running...and by that, I mean they scored 5 runs in the first inning alone.  It was kind of awesome.  B stretched a single into a double, and was so proud of himself.  He got to play first base for part of the game, and he was thrilled!  The dynamic B duo is absolutely precious.  I'm so glad my B found such a great friend in the other B. 

I was talking to the other B's mom about the Relay for Life (future post), and found out his cub scout troop is involved.  Any hope I had for B going home to sleep flew out the window when I found out the other B would be on the track from 3-4 am.  I guarantee my B will be right there with him.

After baseball was over, we came home to shower and eat lunch, and then we had several hours of relaxation.  They played video games and watched a movie, while I caught up on some laundry and watched some of the shows on my DVR.  Then, N left for church with his dad, and I started getting ready to go see "42" with my friend Michelle.

See, we've both wanted to see this movie for months, and it finally came out this weekend!  PLUS, as an added bonus, in class on Friday, my professor said we could get extra credit for going to see it and writing a brief summary.  Um, twist my arm...  Michelle and I met for dinner at Cheddars, and spent the entire meal quoting "Can't Hardly Wait," but more specifically, anything Kenny Fisher.  Why?  Because our waiter was totally a horrid version of Special K.  It was ridiculous, and I'm not sure when the last time was that I laughed that hard.

Usually, when Michelle and I go to the movies, we see 19 previews of movies we want to see.  We add them to our "to watch together" list, and then rarely go see them.  We're good at that.  This time, there were maybe two previews worth it: Internship with Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson, which looked stupid funny, and The Great Gatsby with Leo DiCaprio.  I wasn't a huge fan of the book, but the remake of "So Happy Together" totally sucked me in.

And then...it was time.  We're both lovers of all things baseball, so we couldn't wait to see it.  We'd heard there were some parts that were pretty hard to take, and less than 20 minutes into it, I told her, "Man, I'm going to cry a few times.  I already know."  I won't give anything away because a lot of people I know intend to see it, but I will say this.  It was one of the best movies I've seen in a long time.  It probably didn't even show a fraction of what that man went through, but it showed so much about his character.  I love that Rachel Robinson was an active part of the movie-making process. 

And I loved that movie.  I told N I would watch it and consider taking him to see it, but if I decided it was too much for him, he needed to accept that.  I think I'll probably take him to see it.  I think he could learn so much from it.  And that's really what's important to me; helping my son to learn about what hard work, dedication, and sticking to your guns will get you in this world.

There were several moments where I was near tears and several moments where I wanted to cheer out loud.  It will be a movie I am happy to add to my collection when it comes out on DVD...one I will see again while it's in theaters.  And Monday is the day where all MLB teams wear "42" as a tribute to Jackie Robinson.  It's my favorite day in baseball, my favorite number on the back of every single player.  It gets me giddy just thinking about it.

42 has always been more than a number to me...but even more so now.

Aubs

Friday Night Lights

Baseball lights, that is...  Tonight was B's first night game, and it was so much fun!  I obviously use the term "night" loosely, as it was still light for at least an hour after we finished, but still.  He thought it was awesome that he had a "night" game before his brother did this season. 

U7 baseball is hilarious.  The parents are so into it when it's their child, and really open to laughing about anything.  Unless it's their son.  Then it's serious and stressful.  I was just thrilled that B hit the ball each time he was up to bat.  He hit three doubles in the game, and got the "Hammer" award.  All that means is that he'll get stickers on Monday, so he's super excited.  It's all about the stickers on helmets these days.  I guess.  N doesn't really get it either.

I had to leave the game early to get N to a make-up practice, so I didn't get to see the last double he hit, but they did win 10-5, so that's exciting!  At N's practice, they worked hard in the hour they were there, and N was exhausted (and starving) by the time we finished.  B's dad took him to eat dinner (read: took him to a carnival instead), and I had originally promised the boys an "out to eat" night, so N and I hit Chick Fil-A, then came home to watch the Rangers.

It was a pretty low key evening, but that's perfect because tomorrow morning, we have to be at the ball fields early for N's game, then I have to leave halfway through to get B to his game.  What a hectic morning!  My mom's coming to the game tomorrow, so I'll have another set of eyes in case I miss anything.

Speaking of missing anything...I finally had class (for the first time in a month) this morning.  It was weird.  After being off for that long, it's hard to remember where we were, and he goes off on so many tangents, that it's hard to figure it out even if you take notes. 

Also, it doesn't look like we're going to move into the cute little duplex.  I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed, but he was wanting entirely too much up front, and I'm okay with passing on it for that.  If it was right for my boys and me, it would've worked out.  I also found out that the family who lives below us is moving in the next month or so, which thrills N to no end because he doesn't like the smell.  They're perfectly nice, but they are an Indian family, and they cook a ton of Indian food.  It can be overpowering at times, and there have been a few times where I've changed my shirt before walking out the door because it smelled like curry, but that's life in an apartment.  If we don't find anywhere else, then we stay put. 

What else are we going to do?  I've had a lot of interest on the job front, too, so that's pretty spectacular.  I'm looking forward to finding something that will be a good fit for my boys and me...and juggling schedules as a result.  Lucky for me...I love a challenge.

I just need to master challenging one thing at a time.

Maybe.

Aubs

Procrastination

I'm (one of several, I'm sure) the queen of procrastination.  I don't do it on purpose, but I'm horrible at it...especially when it comes to writing papers.  And this is not a bad thing.  (And now, I fully intend to toot my own horn.)

I'm a decent writer, if I do say so myself.  I'm far from perfect, but I usually get my point across in a way that makes other people really get where I'm coming from.  I write from the heart; for laughs, for tears, or any other emotion that comes my way.  And when push comes to shove, I'm ridiculous at hammering out assignments right before they're due.

Disclaimer: It is NOT the right way to do things, and at some point, it will come back to bite me in the butt, however, today is not that day.  I hope.

I've had an assignment that I've known about for a while about some aspect of United States foreign policy.  I dislike politics...not because I don't understand, but because I dislike listening to people spout off when they know little about what's going on in the world.  People like to hear themselves talk, and I know I'm one of them sometimes.  Give me something I'm passionate about, and I'll talk your ear off even more than I normally would.  Yes, it happens.

And I get that people can be passionate about politics.  More power to them.  It just irritates me when their "passion" is nothing more than badmouthing someone they dislike.  That said, I'm not the president's biggest fan.  Sorry if that offends you, but he is not who I voted for, and I'm not ashamed to admit that.  I think he has bitten off way more than he can chew, and it will take the next president a long time to regain the ground that has been lost.  That is my opinion, to which I am completely entitled, since I live in the United States of America.  Others have vastly different opinions, and that's also their right.  I do not call him any names and I wish him no harm...I just think there's someone better suited for his job. 

Anyway, I'm supposed to tell the president how to do his job, and I've struggled with it because the smarty pants in me wants to just say something like, "Dude.  Quit.  You just need to go.  Okay, bye." but there's no way I could stretch that out to 1 1/2 to 2 pages, so I actually had to do the research.

This week has left me totally exhausted. 

Monday: All day field trip, B batting practice, N fielding practice
Tuesday: Babysitting all morning, homework
Wednesday: Job interview, homework, Relay for Life meeting
Thursday: Homework, B fielding practice, N 5 mountains of homework
Friday: School, test, homework, B baseball game, N batting practice
Saturday: Games at 9, 10:30 (N, B) homework, date night with my friend Michelle
Sunday: Deadline for 6 chapters, 3 assignments, and 6 quizzes and 2 tests.

I'm to the point where I'm laughing hysterically at nothing.  And while that's nothing new, it's giving me the hiccups and I can't even concentrate when I sound like the mouse on Dumbo.

Hic.

Aubs

Whambulances, Meetings, and, by the way...cancer sucks.

Today, B had an issue with shoes.  The Nikes he normally wears were covered in mud from a mishap on the playground yesterday, so I told him he needed to wear a different pair.  He came out wearing a pair that he only uses for riding scooters...because he's torn the toes to shreds.  He didn't appreciate when I told him to go change, and it started an argument that might've lasted for 29 minutes.  I timed it.  Because if I didn't have something to keep my mind slightly occupied, I would've gone off the deep end by 7:23 in the morning.

After listening to him whine, and calling at least 4 whambulances, he wore the shoes I wanted him to wear, limping and crying about how he could feel his foot getting sprained while he was sitting there.  I rolled my eyes one too many times and he caught me.  I told him I'd email his teacher, just to get him to be quiet...and after I dropped him at school, his teacher got an email that basically said, "B's being a complete pain in the rear today.  He hates his shoes.  If he messes with them too much, feel free to whack him with something."

She loves our correspondence.  In fact, she enjoys it so much that she called one of the little girls on the playground "Aubrey" today instead of "Audrey" and she was apparently offended.  I feel her pain.  B's teacher is also a co-captain for the school's Relay for Life team, and she asked me once or twice if I wanted to help organize it.  She emailed today, asking if I could attend a meeting, so I went.

And I'm in.  I did the Relay for years in the town I used to live in, and it's an event that's so close to my heart.  I know so many people who've been touched (read: rocked) by cancer, and while several of those have lost their battles, I know those who have fought and won, or are still fighting today.

My mom's one of them.  And I'm super proud of her.  Cancer has been in my life for as long as I can remember...and I've really missed doing the event.  I'm excited to be a part of it again, and I hope that some of you who are local will come check it out if you've never been before...or even if you have!

If you'd like to make a donation to help me reach my goal of $200, you can read about why I  Relay and make a donation on Aubrey's Relay for Life Page, or comment and I'll get in touch with you about how you can make a difference.  Every little bit helps, and attending an event is a total life changer.

You should totally go.  And you should probably go on April 27...it's only a couple of weeks away, and I have a lot of ground to cover to reach $200 by then.  So, please, if you can, help me reach my goal! 

Because y'all are awesome, and there's no reason we should ever let cancer win!

Aubs

Makeover & Massage

I had the most fantastic makeover and massage today...thanks to my best girl.  She's 5, and she's pretty awesome.  Not only did I get a hairstyle, but I got a forehead massage with Winter Apple from Bath & Body Works, and a FULL makeover of my face while we were waiting for the foundation guy to come.

Bless him, he didn't even say a word about my gooey fuchsia lips, except, "I get it.  I have two boys." which only made me hesitate ever so slightly.  I also got to watch Barbie movies on the iPad while she worked, and when I gave her free reign to pick my colors, she said she would pick them based on my outfit.

I simply HAD to return the favor.  As I was brushing her hair, and spraying it liberally with "deodorant" (aka Dove leave-in conditioner, I think), she explained that she had a date night with her hubs that night.  They were headed into D.C. to eat dinner and catch a movie, and would I mind babysitting her 4 children?  I agreed, and told her, since she was having a date night and all, that I absolutely had to curl her hair.  Her eyes lit up, and she raced for the curling iron!

She put on a gold dress, and I curled her hair and put a sparkly clip in it.  Then she took off for her date night, after reminding me that her phone number was, "214972."  She called to check in several times, and sent her husband home once to help me quiet a crying baby...she just insisted.  She also told me NOT to do the dishes.  It was so fun!  Meanwhile, her A.DOR.A.BLE. little brother was playing cars and asking me to read the names off the backs of the packages.  Apparently, it's his latest obsession.  He was as happy as anyone...just like always.

Those two...they do my heart good.  And my heart needed some good after a super late night with my own kids and a completely dramatic morning.  I love that they're both playing sports.  I do NOT love the late nights on Mondays and Wednesdays.  I do NOT love the early mornings on Tuesdays & Thursdays...and Saturdays, truth be told.  I'm blessed with children who sleep in.  This "be at the field at 8:30" thing does not work for me.

But, they love it, and that's all that matters.

In other exciting news, I was playing catch with B earlier, and I told him to throw me the ball.  Then I looked at my watch because N wanted to go to a friend's house and I wanted to see what time it was.  B had already thrown the ball, and it hit my arm.  On my watch band.  Which is metal.  I felt it reverberate through my bone, and watched as my arm became pink, then red, then purple at an alarming rate.  He was beside himself because he thought he was in trouble.  Our rule is "Never throw a ball to someone unless they're ready."  And it wasn't his fault.  I told him I was ready.  But then...I wasn't. 

So I'll be sporting a fantastic bruise on my left wrist area tomorrow for another job interview.

Do I know how to make a splash or what?!

Aubs

Don't laugh, but...

I totally ran part of baseball practice tonight.  Okay, laugh.  It was funny.  I'm 99.3% certain.  The boys had some trouble connecting with the ball on Saturday morning, so they needed some extra work tonight.  That was my job.  Hahahaha, it was a riot.  One of the dads brought a batting thingy.  I have no clue what it's called, so I googled "batting practice thingy" and found this:

My terms are obviously very technical.  And accurate.  Anyway, the boys divided into two groups.  I got a group of boys to bat, and the other group of boys went to practice fielding with the dads and coach.  I gave each boy a warm-up swing, and my rules went as follows:

1. You get 10 hits.
2. If you make the arm spin around, it's a good hit.
3. If it bounces more than it swings, it's a bad hit.
4. You get three bad hits, you're running to the opposite end of the fields and back.

They thought I was kidding.  Newsflash: I wasn't.  And of the nine players, five ran.  I'd say two were a total fluke, but they were pretty thrilled, and they all had fun.  Yay for being a successful "coach."

At least I know I have a back-up plan in life.  Or not.

B spent all of his batting practice time running around like a nutjob, then sliding across every single field on his way to the field N on which N was practicing.  I was annoyed.  And he wasn't listening, so by the end of a 40 minute period, he'd lost video games for 5 days.  One of the dads helped with the grounding, adding days for me when I was otherwise about to blow my top.  Sharing is caring.

Plus, I'm pretty sure I had steam coming out of my ears. 

See, if it had only been baseball practice, it would've been one thing...but today I took a group of 7 5th graders (out of 84) around the Perot Museum.  Let me just say it's really hard to spend enough time for it to count on 5 floors of a really awesome museum if you only have (essentially) 2 hours, and the majority of that 2 hours is broken up into horrid time increments. 

They had fun, and so did I, but my group didn't really mesh well, so it was a lot of give & take on the group's part, and a ton of mental face palming on my part.

I'm surprised there's not a visible red mark.

Truth.

Aubs

Video game trucks

This is all I've heard about since I mentioned a birthday party invitation to N.  One of his friends had a birthday party on Sunday evening (of all nights, and YES, I know that makes me sound old and cranky), and the highlight of the invitation was the video game truck.  For two and a half hours, these boys (apparently) played video games.  In a truck.  They also ran around and got all sweaty, playing basketball and eating pizza and nearly tackling the poor kid's mother for candy as the party broke up.

N wants a video game truck for his birthday now...and my concern about the creativity of birthday parties moving forward has been completely squashed.  I think we all win here. 

What did I do before 5:30, you ask?  Um...yeah.  My dad opted to leave at 7:30 this morning so he would have the whole afternoon to rest and recover from his (much louder and more chaotic) weekend in Dallas.  I was sad to see him go, and so was B...he cried and said (in the most pathetic voice I've ever heard), "But, Mom!  I wasn't done with him yet!"  How can that not break your heart?

I set up my laptop to watch church online instead of going because there were entirely too many things going on at once: N left for church, B decided to be scared of "zompires" or some such nonsense stemming from one of the horrid shows on the Disney channel...Kickin' It, I think.  He wouldn't even brush his teeth if I was sitting in the living room, answering my discussion board question.  I had to be standing in the hall to where he could see at least a portion of me if he looked in the mirror.

No.  Thank.  You.

He left to go to a get-together with his dad's family, and I had about an hour of my own time before N came home.  We hung out peacefully enough, talking about why I seemingly interfere, only it's not interfering because I'm showing him that what he's doing comes across as pestering or being a jerk.  He sort of gets it now, or he claims to, anyway.  He just hates being punished (what kid doesn't?) and wishes I would pick a different punishment.  You know, instead of the one that obviously works pretty dang well.

No dice, N...no dice.

We went to Market Street to get a few things for lunches (because I ran out of time to go to Target) and a gift card for N's friend's birthday party, and then I dropped him off.  I came home, made some potato skins (I. Love. Potatoes.), and read a book/worked on homework.  I'm caught up on one class, but I have two that have some serious assignments due in the near future.

Oh boy...but you know what?  It's exactly one month until my semester's over.

I'm holding onto that with all I've got!

Aubs

Take me out to the ballgame(s)

Oh, today was a glorious day for baseball!  It was, however, ridiculously chilly.  We had to be at the ball fields at 8:30 on Saturday morning for N's double-header, and I just KNEW it would warm up in no time.

I was an idiot.

It.  Was.  Freezing.  My dad, who never gets cold, even put on a hoodie...and left it on almost all day.  The Giants (N's team) were the visitors for both games.  I was totally apprehensive about this game for one major reason:  The boys haven't practiced hitting off a kid pitcher at all this season.  For some of the boys, it's the first time they've played baseball at all, or the first time they've played kid pitch baseball.  I'm not the coach, but I do speak my mind (imagine that) and I think it was highly detrimental to NOT practice hitting off of a kid pitcher.  I also think there should have been more practice with pitchers and catchers instead of 20 minutes the night before the game.

Maybe it's just me.  Anyway, the boys had a slow start, and were down by several runs by the time we got to the third inning of the first game.  But, y'all?  N caught for the entire first game, and he did a great job.  Something else that's new this season is the ability to steal home.  N's used to that being against the rules, so he's gotten into the habit of throwing to second on a wild pitch, and it never failed...each time he'd do that, they'd score.  He figured it out pretty quickly though, and in the third inning, they'd closed the gap to two runs when he strapped on his gear.  There was a wild pitch, and as the runner was sliding towards home, N scooped up the ball and threw himself on home plate, tagging the runner out!

I was screaming like a fool, and I wasn't the only one!  It was a great save!  They lost, but it was a respectable first showing, for sure.  I think it gave them a better idea of what to expect.  The highlight of the game, aside from N's tag out at home plate, was the coach of the opposite team.  He was yelling to his players about stealing bases (loudly) and giving away all of his secrets, all the while yelling, "TRUST ME!  JUST TRUUUUUST ME!"  My dad and I (and a lot of other parents) were laughing so hard.  It was a fun time!

The second game, N started on third base, and wasn't that thrilled about it.  You could tell.  He volunteered to catch again, but his coach wanted to let someone else try.  "Someone else" was not a fan, so after I left, N went back to catching...and I bet that's where he'll stay for the remainder of the season.  His coach even gave him one of the catchers mitts to hold onto and use.  N thinks he's keeping it.  I told him "No way," but he's determined.

As for B's game...well, if any of y'all are local and want to come see a game, I'll send you the schedule.  Oh, wow.  That was a riot!  The boys on both teams were just so fun to watch, and there are four boys on the team that have the same name or similar names (the two B's and two boys whose names both start with "L" that are sooooo close!) so that makes for total hilarity.  My dad took some great pictures!  B got hit on the top edge of his cleat his first time at bat (coach pitch), and the second time, he managed to bust out a double!  He was so excited, and the kids on his team (well, the ones who knew what was going on), were so excited.  Our catcher even ran and caught a pop fly on the foul line.  I don't think it was on purpose, because he was super surprised...but it was a ton of fun!

This coming week we have games on Friday and Saturday...plus practice on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday.  Oh boy!  I'm tired just thinking about it!

Aubs

Know who I hung out with this afternoon?

My dad!  He got here just after the boys got home from school, and it was so great to see him!  I haven't seen him in a few months, since right around Christmas/New Years, but the boys hadn't seen him since Thanksgiving, so it was long overdue.  This is his first trip back to Dallas since he moved in 2011, and I hope he makes it happen a little more often.  I love going to Houston to visit him, but I love having him here, too.

Today, since I didn't have class for the 4th week in a row, I went to school to get my last book for my online class that started last week.  I was in and out in less than 10 minutes, which is pretty much exactly what I wanted/needed.  I came home, did a couple of loads of laundry, and finished cleaning up for my dad's arrival. 

Both of the boys had practice/uniform pick-up tonight, so we headed to Wagon Wheel.  The boys played catch while my dad and I acted as back-ups.  When B's assistant coach showed up, N headed to the batting cages.  My dad and I ended up following N, and that's when I got put on uniform duty.  To their credit, every single boy showed up to get their uniform...and most of them stuck around to hit a bucket of balls and throw a few back and forth.  N put on his catchers gear and a few of the boys practiced pitching to him.  He's really excited to catch tomorrow.

Tomorrow: B has a parade at the same time as game one of N's double header.  I'll be at N's game, then head over to B's game at 11:30.  Tonight, B's stepmom said, "Oh wow, you are officially a baseball mom."  Um, yeah.  I know.  Where have you been?

On the way home, Justin called to see if N wanted to go to dinner with him, and N agreed, but only if he could shower first.  My dad and I also decided to go grab dinner somewhere, so the four of us ended up going to eat together.  It was fun to hang out, and I'm glad Justin and I get along so well...for the most part.  I vocalized that, and he looked at me like I was crazy!  We really are friends.  It's weird, but true.

Now, it's 10:26, OU still sucks, and I'm exhausted.

Tomorrow will be a morning full of baseball, followed by an afternoon of looking at a potential place to live...all with my dad by my side!

I'm super excited!

Aubs

So much to do, so little time

Y'all.  My dad's going to be here in less than 24 hours!  I'm so excited, I can't even stand it!  He called me this evening, on his way home, to make sure there wasn't anything else I needed him to bring.  The list may or may not include the following:

A green scooter
A blue bowl with lid
A glass bowl with red lid
A baseball glove
Ratatouille (because I think I left it in the tv in the boys' room at his house, and we want to watch it)

N tried to add on a new catcher's mitt, but Pampaw was not falling for it.  He might be just as excited as I am to be coming back up here...  We discussed weather forecasts and tentative plans for the weekend, and then I went on and on (and on) about houses and potential jobs, and I'm pretty sure he moved the phone away from his ear while I yapped away excitedly.

Or maybe he listened.  He IS a pretty great listener.

I finished homework for two classes, but I still have to go get a book for my class that just started so I can get caught up.  Since I don't have class tomorrow morning, I guess a trip to the bookstore will be in order.  In a moment of panic, I just had to google the store hours to make sure they were open tomorrow, since my deadline is Sunday.  Whew!  I'm safe.

I have a project due next week for my Friday class, and I have to pick a topic for a research paper for another class.  It's going to be a busy end to the semester, that's for sure.  I'm doing well, though, so although I'm totally stressed out about it, I think it will all work out.

B's dad/stepmom and I have had many a conversation lately about potentially switching B to a different attendance zone.  They want to keep him in the same school, and while I agree (to a certain extent), B tells me he wants to go to this other school.  He tells them a different story.  I hate that we've come to the point in his life, where he tells each of us what he thinks we want to hear, because all it does is add stress to his life, and that's not fair to him.  After going to the administration building and talking to my friend's mom about requesting a transfer, I realized it was pointless to do it.  There's a new elementary school that's being built, and once it's completed, anyone who had transferred will have to return to their home school anyway.  So, if I move, B will end up at the other school anyway...it's just a question of whether he starts right away, or makes stronger friendships at his current school before he has to leave.  I think his stepmom and I are in agreement that it would make more sense to start him off in the new school in the fall, and then just stay put.

I told her SHE can tell B's dad.  She laughed and agreed.

I feel like there are so many huge pieces of my life that are falling into place right now, and I couldn't be more thrilled or more grateful.  I've said it a hundred times today: God has really put me in the right place at the right time, putting me in the paths of people that are just good.  I'm praying that the pieces will continue to fit together the way I want them to, that "my" plan is also God's plan, and we're finally on the same page. 

I have to say...letting go and letting God is something you have to do/see to believe.

Aubs

Rain, Heels, and a Sock Monkey Umbrella

First of all, I was asleep last night by 10:13 pm.  I can't tell you when that happened last.  I woke up late(r) than normal, and let N sleep until 7:00.  Why?  Because he had his second day of testing today, and I wanted to be sure he was well rested.  Besides, I got up early on Tuesday and made him sausage and eggs for breakfast, so I figured letting him sleep late would make up for NOT doing that this morning.  He got blueberry multi-grain waffles.  And he liked them.  Dang it.

After I took him to school, I came home and contemplated going back to bed for a minute.  It was rainy and dreary and chilly, so it would've been perfect...so perfect, that I would've overslept and missed my interview.  So, I opted to be a grown-up and got ready instead.  I walked to the door in my dress and heels, only to discover that my black umbrella was inside out in the closet.  Perfect.  That left me with one option:

The Sock Monkey umbrella.  Laugh.  Go ahead.  You think I'm kidding, but sadly, I'm not.  And actually, it was kind of perfect...because that's just "me."  You know?  Anyway, I got there, and hung out, watching Kathie Lee and Hoda while I waited for the manager, and had a great time talking to her.  She was looking for someone to work 12 hour shifts on the weekends, which is something I can't do, but she mentioned a position that hadn't been posted yet that she thought I would be perfect for, and set the ball rolling on that one.  It was seriously such a blessing to meet her and talk to her today.  I wasn't sure about her at first, but she was so down to earth and had so many of the same thoughts I did...especially when it comes to being a mom first.  It was refreshing to hear that from a professional, given my previous experience with that.

I came home and made lunch, then I took a nap.  I was exhausted.  I couldn't help it...dang rain!  When the boys got home, they were annoyed because they had to stay inside.  Practice was cancelled (Um, duh!  I could've called that one on Wednesday) so we were stuck at home and inside.  B did his homework while he was waiting for his dad, and they both watched television.  Not much you can do when you're grounded from video games, according to them, anyway. 

When B left, N and I hung out.  We looked at stuff on Facebook, and he read everything in a British accent, for reasons unknown.  I called my dad to find out when he was coming on Friday, and I'm SO excited!!!  I just can't tell you how much I've missed him.  Since both boys have make-up practice on Friday, I told my dad he might have to meet us at the ball fields instead.  I'm hoping he gets into town before that, but we'll see. 

In other news, I haven't been to my Friday class in three weeks...and my professor just posted that we won't have class on Friday either.  It just so happens to coincide with the Rangers Home Opener.  For some reason, I don't think it's coincidence at all.  He's a former baseball coach, and LOVES baseball.  When the boys went a few weeks ago (on their Spring Break) he talked baseball with them for at least 20 minutes.  They all loved it.

I just finished a test for one class, and I'm going to have to make a run to school at some point this week to get a book that I need for my newest class...before my deadline on Sunday.

I'm attempting to not procrastinate.  News flash:  It's not going well.

Aubs

On this episode of, "Oops! I raised your rent..."

I got my renewal notice today, and I was expecting it to be a bit of a rent hike.  I was not, however, expecting what I saw.  See, I've been exploring my options for the last few weeks, just to see what was out there, somewhat close to what my rent is now.  In Coppell there isn't a whole lot...and if there is something, it's not worth it. 

There's been one that's been available for a while, so today, I got a little more curious than normal, and decided to go see it.  In theory, it would be great...except for the powder blue painted walls in the bedrooms and bathrooms.  It's obviously been a rental for a while, and the "yard" is just a bunch of weeds.  I was feeling a tad dejected after that, but decided to drive around the neighborhood a little to see if there was anything else. 

I saw a "For Rent by Owner" sign with flyers, so I stopped to grab one.  The rent was $70 cheaper than the crappy one, so I called the number to set up an appointment.  "Are you in a red car?" the gentleman asked.  When I said I was, he told me to come on in.  He was getting ready to show it to someone else, but I was more than welcome.  Y'all.  It was the same exact floorplan, but this one was maintained SO much better.  It's small, about the size of my apartment, but it met all of my criteria:

1. Ground floor.
2. Garage.
3. Yard.

I'm not hard to please...despite popular belief.  (Okay, those who know me best just choked on their laughter with that sentence).  He and I got wrapped up in a conversation about single parenting and how he and his wife love to be able to help out and give back because God has blessed them in so many ways, and at that moment, I felt like God was blessing me...putting me in this man's path for a reason.  He told me he was closing on another property on Friday, again, the exact same floorplan, but not as "tricked out" as he called it.  I agreed to meet him and the other prospective renter at the other house, and left so she could look uninterrupted.

I found the other one, and it's almost exactly what I pictured in my head...right down to the two climbing trees in the front yard.  I left to grab some water, but when I came back, they were looking around, so I knocked and went in.  He told the benefits of this one: a really spacious roofed deck with a ceiling fan in the back, new windows, all the appliances (including a new washer & dryer), and a new water heater.  He said, "I know this one isn't as fancy, but it's in excellent shape.  I bought it from the original owner, and if you're good with what you see; I'll be painting everything and installing some new fixtures and everything, but if you like it, I'll rent it to you for a really good price."  

While I was waiting, I'd called my apartment complex and found out that they were increasing my rent by $200.  Yeah.  Really.  When he told me the price, I started doing math in my head to see which was the better deal, and without question, the house is.  My dad's coming this weekend for baseball, so we're going to check it out.  I'm excited about the possibilities, and the fact that he told me I could rent it for as long as I wanted/needed to.  He is a good man; he and his wife have been in the community for years and years and years, and they are so great.

This morning, I got a text from a friend of mine, asking if I was awake.  When I said I was, I got a text that made my heart drop...first, when she asked if I was awake, I was scared it was bad news about one of her kids.  Equally bad news, I'm afraid...her father died early this morning, suddenly, and before his time.  He leaves behind the love of his life, his wife of 51 years, three amazing daughters, and some pretty wonderful grandchildren.  This man, although I never met him, was selfless and kind, supportive and loving, loyal and genuinely good.  I did not get the chance to meet him, but I feel like I have because all of those qualities have been picked up by those who loved him the most.  It is tragic and so difficult for all of them; nobody was expecting to say good-bye to their husband/father/Pop Pop.

My heart hurts for them, but at the same time, I want to rejoice for him, being in the presence of God, where he feels no pain, and will forever be able to watch over all of his loved ones.  Yes, that's joyous news, but it doesn't dim the hurt my friends feel...and I wish I could do something to fix it. 

Today's post was originally going to be about friendship, but I feel like it should wait for another time...perhaps tomorrow.

Instead, I'm going to go cuddle with my boy...because I'm here and able, and tomorrow isn't a guarantee.

Aubs