Today, I made dinner at 1:42. Why? I had no idea at the time, but the whole idea (in my head anyway) was to make dinner and be done with it all. I fully intended to lock myself in my bedroom while the boys took turns playing Xbox (peacefully, in my dream world) and stare at my textbooks, hoping something would sink in without even having to open them.
Instead, I found myself crawling around on the floor, making a blanket for a friend of mine and her daughter. They saw one I posted for B's teacher, and loved it to pieces, so I offered to make one for them, too. Don't get all ahead of yourself and think I'm crafty. Anyone who can cut with scissors and tie knots can make this blanket. Rocket Science, it is not...still, it's pretty cute, and it'll keep them nice and cozy during those frigid Texas winters.
Oh, wait...
Anyway, I was about halfway done when I felt a wave of panic wash over me. I realized "There's something I'm supposed to be doing tonight...ahhhhh, what time is it?!" Luckily, I had about 90 minutes to spare, but that was barely enough time to jump in the shower and toss some ingredients and textbooks into my bag.
B and I rushed out the door to hang out with C & J for a few hours while N went to the batting cages with his dad. The kiddos played tennis and rode around in the backyard, we made dinner, watched an American Girl movie, and made homemade red velvet cupcakes and icing. All in all, it was a fantastic (albeit hectic prior to arrival) evening. I just love C & J...they're two of my favorite kiddos because they are so sweet and so animated. I just love hearing them tell me all about anything!
On the way home, B and I had a serious talk. He has gotten into the habit of being so negative about himself, so I spent much of the ride home talking him through this new mindset. I got onto him tonight because he refused to eat what everyone else ate for dinner. He is always making things difficult when it comes to mealtimes because he is such a picky eater. It stresses me out, and it really frustrates all of us because the last thing I want to do is send my child to bed hungry, but I also feel like being a short-order cook and making him something different than everybody else doesn't teach him to try new things. He flat-out refuses, then tries to snack on all sorts of crap foods instead of eating dinner.
He is such a joyful child, and sometimes I tend to dwell on all of the negatives instead of the positives: he loves to cuddle, to give hugs and kisses...he ALWAYS tells me he loves me and just wants to be all up in the business of those he cares about the most. I need to choose joy...always.
The personal space thing really grates on my nerves mostly because I've really grown to love having my own space over the last 4-5 years. In fact, personal space is probably one of the main reasons I'll never get married...unless Mr. is cool with twin beds like "I Love Lucy" or "The Dick Van Dyke Show." Those people were smart.
Anyway, I'm looking forward to the fact that tomorrow is a "no alarm" day. It doesn't mean I don't have work to do, but at least I can relax with a cup (or two) of coffee and take my time getting started. Those abrupt wake-ups during the school week are going to take a whole lot of getting used to around here.
Aubs
Sunday, August 31, 2014
Saturday, August 30, 2014
I forgot about someone's first week
I totally failed to mention how my first week of school went...this IS my first semester with dual enrollment, after all...
It's been rough. Textbooks have been late or on back order, and I think I've finally gotten all of my books (except for one because the store was already closed for the holiday weekend yesterday) for the classes that have already started. I still have one more class that starts at some point in October. I should probably look up when it starts.
My mom was kind enough to print huge calendar pages for me. They're probably 3' x 2' and September is now fully color-coordinated and tacked to my wall. I have 10 different colors of marker up there, one for each something I have to do.
Green: Spanish
Orange: MicroEcon
Red: Texas History
Yellow: Early World History
Purple: International Relations (aka the bane of my existence)
Pink: Cultural Geography (doesn't start until sometime in October)
Blue: Baseball
Brown: Custody weeks
Black: Boys School Stuff
Gray: Other (appts, babysitting, trips, etc.)
Y'all, that calendar is insanely busy. It makes me dizzy and slightly overwhelmed, and I know that there are 2 more months waiting right underneath it, with more writing to be added as needed. It will be an adventure, to say the least.
Now, International Relations...my professor really enjoys the sound of his own voice, as evidenced by the 6 different lecture videos, each at least 20 minutes long. Also, there was a Monty Python clip in there that he found super amusing...me, less so. There was also a 17 page essay from 1961, and it was awful to read. I'm hoping it gets better as we get more into the class, but I'm not holding my breath. There's a quiz after each "unit," and they're only 5 questions each. You can't go back if you want to change your answer. And the time limit is 15 minutes. And I'm notorious for picking an answer, clicking "next" and then saying, "Oh, wait! I meant __________." Every. Single. Time.
Also, his syllabus was unclear, so that adds to my frustration.
Such is life. And International Relations, apparently.
Aubs
It's been rough. Textbooks have been late or on back order, and I think I've finally gotten all of my books (except for one because the store was already closed for the holiday weekend yesterday) for the classes that have already started. I still have one more class that starts at some point in October. I should probably look up when it starts.
My mom was kind enough to print huge calendar pages for me. They're probably 3' x 2' and September is now fully color-coordinated and tacked to my wall. I have 10 different colors of marker up there, one for each something I have to do.
Green: Spanish
Orange: MicroEcon
Red: Texas History
Yellow: Early World History
Purple: International Relations (aka the bane of my existence)
Pink: Cultural Geography (doesn't start until sometime in October)
Blue: Baseball
Brown: Custody weeks
Black: Boys School Stuff
Gray: Other (appts, babysitting, trips, etc.)
Y'all, that calendar is insanely busy. It makes me dizzy and slightly overwhelmed, and I know that there are 2 more months waiting right underneath it, with more writing to be added as needed. It will be an adventure, to say the least.
Now, International Relations...my professor really enjoys the sound of his own voice, as evidenced by the 6 different lecture videos, each at least 20 minutes long. Also, there was a Monty Python clip in there that he found super amusing...me, less so. There was also a 17 page essay from 1961, and it was awful to read. I'm hoping it gets better as we get more into the class, but I'm not holding my breath. There's a quiz after each "unit," and they're only 5 questions each. You can't go back if you want to change your answer. And the time limit is 15 minutes. And I'm notorious for picking an answer, clicking "next" and then saying, "Oh, wait! I meant __________." Every. Single. Time.
Also, his syllabus was unclear, so that adds to my frustration.
Such is life. And International Relations, apparently.
Aubs
Friday, August 29, 2014
One week down, entirely too many to go
Well, the first week of school is a wrap. So far, B LOVES 3rd grade and absolutely adores his teacher. He loves math and P.E. except for the "stretches." I have no idea what exactly that means, but the face he makes when he talks about them is priceless. I picked him up from school this afternoon, and he practically bounced off of the side of the car when he ran to get in.
Always comical, that one. His joy just oozes out of him. Some days it drives me crazy. Other days? Well, it's just contagious.
N claims they haven't done anything all week...in almost every class he claims they've been sitting around playing on their phones or playing games. I'm not sure how much I believe his story, and I feel like I'm really in for a wake-up call on Tuesday at curriculum night. He seems to enjoy his classes well enough; he has one of the members of "The Breakfast Club" in his Science class.
That deserves explanation: Last spring, N and three of his pals got into trouble with a sub during Pre-AP Language Arts. It's the last period of the day, and it was a few days before Spring Break. When their teacher returned, she gave them the option of serving a detention prior to Spring Break or serving after they returned. All of them opted to serve after, and she gave them plenty of notice to tell their parents before she emailed all of us. SO, N came to Houston with me for Spring Break, and while bored one morning, found "The Breakfast Club" on television. He watched it, claimed it was lame, I disowned him, and we all went about our business. That was the end of it...or so I thought.
Fast forward a couple of weeks, and I'm emailing his LA teacher about something. She emails me back and says something like, "N is such a great kid. His sense of humor is awesome...he just needs to steer clear of the Breakfast Club every now and then." I emailed her back immediately, giving her major props for the reference, and she must've been sitting there, waiting for my email. "I didn't dub them 'The Breakfast Club,' they did." Apparently, these fools (I say that lovingly) wrote her a note during their detention, signed it the Breakfast Club, and made a pact.
Y'all, it's still funny even now. Anyway, the sole girl from the 6th grade B.C. is in his Science class, and she and N are pals. He has a couple of friends in his Math class, too...and he really loves that class even though he's never liked Math. Plus, it's at the end of the day. Puke. Whatever. He seems to be doing well, although he's pissed about not playing football now. He didn't want to get up early, and I was not-so-secretly glad about that...which brings us to baseball.
He met his new team tonight, and he's so discouraged. In our league, they combine U11 and U12. Last season(s), N was U11, so now he's one of four U12 players on his combined team. He and another boy are the only two who have played on the U12 fields. Needless to say, he was so frustrated last night, even after his coach spoke to him and told him he wanted him to be the team captain and really lead the team. N was excited about having that opportunity, but he's still anti-fall ball. I can't say I blame him, but as I talked to my mom tonight, she reminded me that God puts us where we are for a reason. Maybe this is N's time to step up and be a leader. Maybe this is what he needs.
So, we're going with it. And while we were at practice, one of the other moms came up to me and just gushed about what a delight B was. He was out on the field, helping her daughter learn to swing the bat and throw the ball. She was so complimentary...and I was so proud of him. He was so patient. And sometimes, it really seems like I can learn a whole lot from both of my boys.
Aubs
Always comical, that one. His joy just oozes out of him. Some days it drives me crazy. Other days? Well, it's just contagious.
N claims they haven't done anything all week...in almost every class he claims they've been sitting around playing on their phones or playing games. I'm not sure how much I believe his story, and I feel like I'm really in for a wake-up call on Tuesday at curriculum night. He seems to enjoy his classes well enough; he has one of the members of "The Breakfast Club" in his Science class.
That deserves explanation: Last spring, N and three of his pals got into trouble with a sub during Pre-AP Language Arts. It's the last period of the day, and it was a few days before Spring Break. When their teacher returned, she gave them the option of serving a detention prior to Spring Break or serving after they returned. All of them opted to serve after, and she gave them plenty of notice to tell their parents before she emailed all of us. SO, N came to Houston with me for Spring Break, and while bored one morning, found "The Breakfast Club" on television. He watched it, claimed it was lame, I disowned him, and we all went about our business. That was the end of it...or so I thought.
Fast forward a couple of weeks, and I'm emailing his LA teacher about something. She emails me back and says something like, "N is such a great kid. His sense of humor is awesome...he just needs to steer clear of the Breakfast Club every now and then." I emailed her back immediately, giving her major props for the reference, and she must've been sitting there, waiting for my email. "I didn't dub them 'The Breakfast Club,' they did." Apparently, these fools (I say that lovingly) wrote her a note during their detention, signed it the Breakfast Club, and made a pact.
Y'all, it's still funny even now. Anyway, the sole girl from the 6th grade B.C. is in his Science class, and she and N are pals. He has a couple of friends in his Math class, too...and he really loves that class even though he's never liked Math. Plus, it's at the end of the day. Puke. Whatever. He seems to be doing well, although he's pissed about not playing football now. He didn't want to get up early, and I was not-so-secretly glad about that...which brings us to baseball.
He met his new team tonight, and he's so discouraged. In our league, they combine U11 and U12. Last season(s), N was U11, so now he's one of four U12 players on his combined team. He and another boy are the only two who have played on the U12 fields. Needless to say, he was so frustrated last night, even after his coach spoke to him and told him he wanted him to be the team captain and really lead the team. N was excited about having that opportunity, but he's still anti-fall ball. I can't say I blame him, but as I talked to my mom tonight, she reminded me that God puts us where we are for a reason. Maybe this is N's time to step up and be a leader. Maybe this is what he needs.
So, we're going with it. And while we were at practice, one of the other moms came up to me and just gushed about what a delight B was. He was out on the field, helping her daughter learn to swing the bat and throw the ball. She was so complimentary...and I was so proud of him. He was so patient. And sometimes, it really seems like I can learn a whole lot from both of my boys.
Aubs
Thursday, August 28, 2014
The day I made the guy at the shipping place cry
First off, I'm not mean. I mean, my kids will tell you a different story, but I'm really not. Strict? Yes. Stern? Absolutely. No bullshit policy? You bet. Mean? Meh...it's open to interpretation.
I've been going to the same shipping place for three years. The guy sees me a few times a semester, and he's seen my boys come in with me a few times. I think he might be the only person that works there, so we make polite small talk, and he always inquires about my boys.
We went in there a few weeks ago to buy stamps, and it was one of those crazy "If you say another word, I'm going to sell you to the circus and not ever look back" kind of days. He asked the boys if they were ready to go back to school and they both responded negatively while I sighed with wistfulness at the thought of "freedom." To be fair, we didn't do much this summer, so it felt like it dragged on forever. Like, I was ready to send them back a month ago.
Anyway, fast forward to today...I went in to ship a textbook that was sent in error (the wrong edition), and said, "Hey, friend!" as I do each time I go into the store. I do this for two reasons: 1. I am the type of person who never knows a stranger and 2. I have no idea what his name is.
Let's discuss reason 1 for a moment, shall we? I hear this statement a lot when people talk about me, usually "strangers" that I randomly chat up while waiting in line at various stores. People are always entertaining, and they're less likely to judge me (and the behavior of my sometimes hellacious children) if I'm all friendy-friendy with them, so I make friends wherever I go. I have yet to see this backfire, but I'm still young.
Anyway, "Friend" asked me if the boys were back in school, and I responded with a gushing sigh of "YES!" Y'all, he burst out laughing and leaned on the counter and laughed until he had tears. It wasn't that funny...but when he could breathe (and type the return address on my package) he told me it was all in my facial expression. Awesome. He then paid me the nicest compliment a near stranger could ever give someone: "You are such a good mom. I'm sure kids can be a lot to handle, but I really like how you tell them like it is. You seem like the type of mom who doesn't play around."
THEN, I told him about how N was grounded once so I took away Xbox privileges (this is my "go to" punishment, you know). I left to run errands, and he was still asleep, so I hid the power cord to the Xbox (Shout out to my own mom & dad for using that one on my sister & me when we were younger in the days of SNES awesomeness). When I got home, he was really pissy and said accusingly, "Why did you take the cord to the Xbox?" and I replied (without batting an eye), "Why would you even care or notice? You're grounded remember?"
BAM! He was in tears again. I'm really not that funny or diabolical. I just do what I say I'm going to do. They know better than to cross me. Every once in a while, they'll get a reprieve, but it doesn't happen often.
And then I continued on with my errands and all was right with the world. Also, I bet he's counting down the days until I send my books back. We're totally on our way to being bffs.
On a more serious note, I was texting back and forth with a friend of mine earlier today about the same kind of stuff...being a good parent. It's really hard sometimes, okay, a lot of the time. It went a little something like this:
Me: N's hard to take these days...oh, the joys of turning 12.
R: Gee, thanks for the warning...
Me: C is way more mellow than N will ever be...you'll be fine. I have no idea what his malfunction is.
R: You are a great mom! You'll figure it out.
Me: Thank you, sweet friend! That is so nice to hear...it definitely does not feel that way most days.
R: Give yourself more credit. Parenting is the hardest job ever, and it doubles in all aspects when you are doing it solo. You remind me of my mom, and how amazing she was in raising five kids on her own. You are pretty amazing too, but I'm sure your Prince Charming is just around the corner, and you won't go solo for long!
Me: Hahahahahahaha, Prince Charming is totally overrated!
R: Well, what can I say, a little embellishment never hurt anyone. Haha!
Me: Haha, embellishment is the spice of life? Or is that variety?
Y'all, it floored me and brought tears to my eyes. She is such a sweet and amazing friend, and I'm so grateful that baseball brought us together 2 years ago. Not long ago, she told me the story of her mom and what kind of major stuff she went through and how she persevered and did it all for her kids. I can't even begin to tell you how much of a compliment it was to have her compare me to her mom, and to have been able to meet this amazing woman earlier this year.
I'm not sure about all the Prince Charming stuff...I've been flying solo for 4 years now, but all the other stuff? Well, that's more than enough to keep me pushing ahead, forcing my way through all the crap life throws my way.
Aubs
I've been going to the same shipping place for three years. The guy sees me a few times a semester, and he's seen my boys come in with me a few times. I think he might be the only person that works there, so we make polite small talk, and he always inquires about my boys.
We went in there a few weeks ago to buy stamps, and it was one of those crazy "If you say another word, I'm going to sell you to the circus and not ever look back" kind of days. He asked the boys if they were ready to go back to school and they both responded negatively while I sighed with wistfulness at the thought of "freedom." To be fair, we didn't do much this summer, so it felt like it dragged on forever. Like, I was ready to send them back a month ago.
Anyway, fast forward to today...I went in to ship a textbook that was sent in error (the wrong edition), and said, "Hey, friend!" as I do each time I go into the store. I do this for two reasons: 1. I am the type of person who never knows a stranger and 2. I have no idea what his name is.
Let's discuss reason 1 for a moment, shall we? I hear this statement a lot when people talk about me, usually "strangers" that I randomly chat up while waiting in line at various stores. People are always entertaining, and they're less likely to judge me (and the behavior of my sometimes hellacious children) if I'm all friendy-friendy with them, so I make friends wherever I go. I have yet to see this backfire, but I'm still young.
Anyway, "Friend" asked me if the boys were back in school, and I responded with a gushing sigh of "YES!" Y'all, he burst out laughing and leaned on the counter and laughed until he had tears. It wasn't that funny...but when he could breathe (and type the return address on my package) he told me it was all in my facial expression. Awesome. He then paid me the nicest compliment a near stranger could ever give someone: "You are such a good mom. I'm sure kids can be a lot to handle, but I really like how you tell them like it is. You seem like the type of mom who doesn't play around."
THEN, I told him about how N was grounded once so I took away Xbox privileges (this is my "go to" punishment, you know). I left to run errands, and he was still asleep, so I hid the power cord to the Xbox (Shout out to my own mom & dad for using that one on my sister & me when we were younger in the days of SNES awesomeness). When I got home, he was really pissy and said accusingly, "Why did you take the cord to the Xbox?" and I replied (without batting an eye), "Why would you even care or notice? You're grounded remember?"
BAM! He was in tears again. I'm really not that funny or diabolical. I just do what I say I'm going to do. They know better than to cross me. Every once in a while, they'll get a reprieve, but it doesn't happen often.
And then I continued on with my errands and all was right with the world. Also, I bet he's counting down the days until I send my books back. We're totally on our way to being bffs.
On a more serious note, I was texting back and forth with a friend of mine earlier today about the same kind of stuff...being a good parent. It's really hard sometimes, okay, a lot of the time. It went a little something like this:
Me: N's hard to take these days...oh, the joys of turning 12.
R: Gee, thanks for the warning...
Me: C is way more mellow than N will ever be...you'll be fine. I have no idea what his malfunction is.
R: You are a great mom! You'll figure it out.
Me: Thank you, sweet friend! That is so nice to hear...it definitely does not feel that way most days.
R: Give yourself more credit. Parenting is the hardest job ever, and it doubles in all aspects when you are doing it solo. You remind me of my mom, and how amazing she was in raising five kids on her own. You are pretty amazing too, but I'm sure your Prince Charming is just around the corner, and you won't go solo for long!
Me: Hahahahahahaha, Prince Charming is totally overrated!
R: Well, what can I say, a little embellishment never hurt anyone. Haha!
Me: Haha, embellishment is the spice of life? Or is that variety?
Y'all, it floored me and brought tears to my eyes. She is such a sweet and amazing friend, and I'm so grateful that baseball brought us together 2 years ago. Not long ago, she told me the story of her mom and what kind of major stuff she went through and how she persevered and did it all for her kids. I can't even begin to tell you how much of a compliment it was to have her compare me to her mom, and to have been able to meet this amazing woman earlier this year.
I'm not sure about all the Prince Charming stuff...I've been flying solo for 4 years now, but all the other stuff? Well, that's more than enough to keep me pushing ahead, forcing my way through all the crap life throws my way.
Aubs
International Relations
I spent most of the morning (after taking the boys to school) attempting to read a 17 page essay about International Relations written in 1961.
I don't know about you, but I'd like to think that a whole lot has changed between the time that essay was written and present day. It was extremely dry and I sat there (more often than not) thinking to myself, "Why am I taking this class? Is it REALLY necessary? Is there something else I can take?"
Alas, it is the only upper level Political Science class available solely online through the school in which I attend, so I'm stuck with it...because I'd rather die of boredom than have to drive up I-35 to Denton and back again on any given day.
I have one class this semester that in on campus, and it's through a local community college. It's less than 5 minutes away. I can handle that, no problem. The department is using a brand new curriculum this semester, so there have been a lot of bumps in the road. I should, hopefully, have my textbook by next week. It's made getting started somewhat difficult.
My professor has also said I should be her TA. I find it funny, hilarious really, because I have zero knowledge of the subject. It was flattering, don't get me wrong, but I think her hopes are set just a little too high. We'll see.
B and I have been at odds as of late. When I try to talk to him about anything, he puts his hands over his ears and runs to his room, shutting the door forcefully behind him. It doesn't happen all the time, mainly when I'm getting onto him for something, but it's really getting old. He says it's because I'm yelling, but I'm not. Not even a little bit. I can be talking to him in a normal voice or raising my voice slightly to be heard over him, but I make it a point not to yell. And he still runs. Punishing him for it (removing privileges, early bedtimes, etc.) have done nothing to squash this potentially bad habit, and I'm getting super frustrated.
N requested to go to The Mix (youth group) tonight, and I was happy to hear that...because there were several times this summer where he begged not to go because it was too loud or he just didn't want to. It makes my heart happy to hear/see them both get involved in whatever aspect is most comfortable to them. I hope it's rubbing off on me.
I was really cranky earlier today, and in a random move, I turned on the actual radio in my car. I put it on a local Christian station and almost immediately, I felt peace wash over me. It was the most amazing thing...and it hasn't moved from that station since. Before we dropped N off, a song came on and he started singing along. He looked at me in surprise, then smiled and kept right on going.
Those brief moments? They make it all worth it.
Aubs
I don't know about you, but I'd like to think that a whole lot has changed between the time that essay was written and present day. It was extremely dry and I sat there (more often than not) thinking to myself, "Why am I taking this class? Is it REALLY necessary? Is there something else I can take?"
Alas, it is the only upper level Political Science class available solely online through the school in which I attend, so I'm stuck with it...because I'd rather die of boredom than have to drive up I-35 to Denton and back again on any given day.
I have one class this semester that in on campus, and it's through a local community college. It's less than 5 minutes away. I can handle that, no problem. The department is using a brand new curriculum this semester, so there have been a lot of bumps in the road. I should, hopefully, have my textbook by next week. It's made getting started somewhat difficult.
My professor has also said I should be her TA. I find it funny, hilarious really, because I have zero knowledge of the subject. It was flattering, don't get me wrong, but I think her hopes are set just a little too high. We'll see.
B and I have been at odds as of late. When I try to talk to him about anything, he puts his hands over his ears and runs to his room, shutting the door forcefully behind him. It doesn't happen all the time, mainly when I'm getting onto him for something, but it's really getting old. He says it's because I'm yelling, but I'm not. Not even a little bit. I can be talking to him in a normal voice or raising my voice slightly to be heard over him, but I make it a point not to yell. And he still runs. Punishing him for it (removing privileges, early bedtimes, etc.) have done nothing to squash this potentially bad habit, and I'm getting super frustrated.
N requested to go to The Mix (youth group) tonight, and I was happy to hear that...because there were several times this summer where he begged not to go because it was too loud or he just didn't want to. It makes my heart happy to hear/see them both get involved in whatever aspect is most comfortable to them. I hope it's rubbing off on me.
I was really cranky earlier today, and in a random move, I turned on the actual radio in my car. I put it on a local Christian station and almost immediately, I felt peace wash over me. It was the most amazing thing...and it hasn't moved from that station since. Before we dropped N off, a song came on and he started singing along. He looked at me in surprise, then smiled and kept right on going.
Those brief moments? They make it all worth it.
Aubs
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Sometimes it just leaks out...
So, just as expected, this morning was much more difficult than Monday morning...for all of us. I struggled with getting up (this is not news, since I am NOT a morning person), and knew that it would be just as difficult to get the boys up at 6:00.
Let me just say: I don't know how they can sleep through the alarm clock. Oh, wait...yes I do. N put the alarm clock on top of something soft so it absorbed the sound. When I removed said soft object and placed it on top of his desk, it was easily two times as loud. I witnessed each boy crack one eye open and almost simultaneously pull pillows over their heads to drown out the sound.
That's cool. I have a secret weapon. Before they knew what was happening, the alarm clock was off and "Do You Want to Build a Snowman" was blaring from my phone speakers. Works. Every. Time. Usually, one of them thinks it's hilarious and sings along (B) while the other yells in disgust and runs out of the room (N). This time, both grumbled and stumbled blindly out of their room: N to their bathroom to shower and B to the bathroom I apparently share with him so he can shower without sharks swimming up the drain to eat him because I'm in the general vicinity to protect him.
True. Story.
I sent N on the bus this morning, only to have him barge back in while I was having a conversation with B. He threw his arms out and said, "You can just take me to school...there aren't any guys at the bus stop because they're all playing FOOTBALL!" Disclaimer: He consciously chose NOT to play football, partially because he wanted to play baseball and partially because we both knew there was no way on God's green Earth that he would be up and ready to be at school by 6:15 each day. Also, I didn't want to do it. But, I swear, it was his decision. I had very little (if any) influence.
Anyway, we drove N to his side of the parking lot and then went around for round two at the elementary school. B and I sat in the car and talked about the important things in life: Giving a note to his teacher about how he'd get home for the rest of the week and whether or not D would bring TicTacs to school like yesterday. Apparently, TicTacs are a REAL big deal. The doors finally opened and he scampered off inside and I went home to work on homework.
Through my eyelids. I fell asleep. It was not intentional. I blame it on the fact that I was still wearing my glasses instead of my contacts. Why? Because I ran out of solution and I wasn't about to try to put them back in after they'd been in a water bath. Yes, I know it's terrible to do that, but I'm improvising here...my eye doctor never returns my calls about getting a copy of my prescription so I can order more. I've only called about half a dozen times. Yeah, I could go up there, but I never think about it until it's 9:00 at night. Whatever.
When I picked B up, we stopped at the store to pick up some candy for school. His teacher rewards them with little treats just because...but since B is allergic to nuts, we typically steer clear of most chocolate items, at least at school. If I were to give him a Hershey's bar or something and he had a reaction, it would be on me. I'd hate for something like that to happen at school. It would scare him, his teacher, and his classmates...and the death of one of their friends last year is still fresh in some of their minds. So we don't even have to worry, I loaded his backpack with a huge stash of Smarties and Starbursts so B can enjoy special treats without the use of an Epi Pen. Hooray!
I cooked dinner for second time this school year (like this is new) and after an uneventful Taco Tuesday, the boys settled in for some Xbox. And then...one of them farted. I have my suspicions as to who it was, but neither would claim it. I could smell it from my room, where I was hard at work on Microeconomics (I'm almost 1/3 of the way finished with my class; it's either really easy, or I'm totally doing it wrong...my guess is it's the latter.), and yelled "EW!" B came as close to claiming it as anyone when he said, "Hmmmmm, maybe it just leaked out?"
We. Laughed. For. Ever.
Sometimes you just have to let go and laugh it up...potty humor is never going away, especially not in a house full of boys.
I'm so lucky.
Aubs
Let me just say: I don't know how they can sleep through the alarm clock. Oh, wait...yes I do. N put the alarm clock on top of something soft so it absorbed the sound. When I removed said soft object and placed it on top of his desk, it was easily two times as loud. I witnessed each boy crack one eye open and almost simultaneously pull pillows over their heads to drown out the sound.
That's cool. I have a secret weapon. Before they knew what was happening, the alarm clock was off and "Do You Want to Build a Snowman" was blaring from my phone speakers. Works. Every. Time. Usually, one of them thinks it's hilarious and sings along (B) while the other yells in disgust and runs out of the room (N). This time, both grumbled and stumbled blindly out of their room: N to their bathroom to shower and B to the bathroom I apparently share with him so he can shower without sharks swimming up the drain to eat him because I'm in the general vicinity to protect him.
True. Story.
I sent N on the bus this morning, only to have him barge back in while I was having a conversation with B. He threw his arms out and said, "You can just take me to school...there aren't any guys at the bus stop because they're all playing FOOTBALL!" Disclaimer: He consciously chose NOT to play football, partially because he wanted to play baseball and partially because we both knew there was no way on God's green Earth that he would be up and ready to be at school by 6:15 each day. Also, I didn't want to do it. But, I swear, it was his decision. I had very little (if any) influence.
Anyway, we drove N to his side of the parking lot and then went around for round two at the elementary school. B and I sat in the car and talked about the important things in life: Giving a note to his teacher about how he'd get home for the rest of the week and whether or not D would bring TicTacs to school like yesterday. Apparently, TicTacs are a REAL big deal. The doors finally opened and he scampered off inside and I went home to work on homework.
Through my eyelids. I fell asleep. It was not intentional. I blame it on the fact that I was still wearing my glasses instead of my contacts. Why? Because I ran out of solution and I wasn't about to try to put them back in after they'd been in a water bath. Yes, I know it's terrible to do that, but I'm improvising here...my eye doctor never returns my calls about getting a copy of my prescription so I can order more. I've only called about half a dozen times. Yeah, I could go up there, but I never think about it until it's 9:00 at night. Whatever.
When I picked B up, we stopped at the store to pick up some candy for school. His teacher rewards them with little treats just because...but since B is allergic to nuts, we typically steer clear of most chocolate items, at least at school. If I were to give him a Hershey's bar or something and he had a reaction, it would be on me. I'd hate for something like that to happen at school. It would scare him, his teacher, and his classmates...and the death of one of their friends last year is still fresh in some of their minds. So we don't even have to worry, I loaded his backpack with a huge stash of Smarties and Starbursts so B can enjoy special treats without the use of an Epi Pen. Hooray!
I cooked dinner for second time this school year (like this is new) and after an uneventful Taco Tuesday, the boys settled in for some Xbox. And then...one of them farted. I have my suspicions as to who it was, but neither would claim it. I could smell it from my room, where I was hard at work on Microeconomics (I'm almost 1/3 of the way finished with my class; it's either really easy, or I'm totally doing it wrong...my guess is it's the latter.), and yelled "EW!" B came as close to claiming it as anyone when he said, "Hmmmmm, maybe it just leaked out?"
We. Laughed. For. Ever.
Sometimes you just have to let go and laugh it up...potty humor is never going away, especially not in a house full of boys.
I'm so lucky.
Aubs
Monday, August 25, 2014
First Day of School!
Please note that, while I typed the title, I totally chanted it, Nemo style. I have a tradition of waking the boys up with that clip each year on the first day of school...just like how we finish out the school year with Alice in Chains, "School's Out for the Summer." It's what we do.
Anyway, this year, N (a big 7th grader) wasn't feeling the whole Nemo thing; it was totally beneath him. When I played it, he put the pillows over his head and rolled so far that I couldn't reach him. B (a moderately big 3rd grader) was s.l.o.w. going this morning. In fact, he took twice as long to shower as his older brother, and that NEVER happens. When they finally sat down to fresh muffins and some OJ (probably one of a dozen times I'll have time to make a real breakfast this year), they were both crankpots. When I ushered them outside, they were quick to realize that we weren't going to school until we took pictures and took off into remote corners of the parking lot. Seriously? It's just a flippin' picture!
When we got to the parking lot (their schools are next door to each other so they share a large-ish parking lot), N demanded that we drive him to his side of the parking lot. I took one look at the gridlock, giggled, and told him walking was good for him. He rolled his eyes (typical), and when we got out of the car, I said, "Okay, I'm going to hug you now." He resisted, but finally relented saying, "Mom, just don't let anyone see you!"
NO problem..."Sure thing, buddy...except for Mrs. S. is behind us right now. Ha!" (Mrs. S. was one of his 5th grade teachers...you know, waaaaay back when.) He walked off to his second year of middle school, and B and I sat down on the sidewalk until it was time for school to open. Meanwhile, a van pulled up next to us and a man unloaded his grandchildren from the van. He looked at me, slightly wild-eyed, and said, "Do you by any chance braid hair?"
Um...what are we talking here? Luckily, the little girl saved me and said, "Just a regular braid is fine." I can handle that, so I braided and adorned that little one's hair to the best of my ability. Finally, the doors opened, so B and I headed inside. On the way, I told him I'd be happy to hug him outside of class if that would be less embarrassing, and he stared at me like I had an extra eyeball and said, "You think you're going to hug me? INSIDE MY SCHOOL?!"
We negotiated for a quick hug in the doorway of a closet next to the cafeteria where there weren't any people around (Sounds totally creepy, doesn't it?) and a fist bump before I walked out of his class. He almost forgot and started to hug me, but I gave him a wink and took a step back and he said, "OH YEAH!" and up came the fist. (I KNEW he wasn't too old for hugs...stinker!) I gave his teacher a rundown of when he needs to go puff on his inhaler and away I went.
I did a couple of miles at Kid Kountry and then came home to work on homework. Oh man...let me just tell you...this schedule will, quite possibly, be the death of me. Texas History? Fine. I like that stuff. World History prior to the 16th Century? Not my favorite, but still doable. International Relations/Issue? Pertinent, but I felt myself going cross-eyed twice in the 13:00 introduction. Microeconomics? Blargh. All online. All the time.
Then I headed to my Spanish class. The degree I'm currently pursuing requires 4 semesters of a foreign language. I originally really wanted to take American Sign Language as my foreign language, but when a Spanish class popped up literally 5 minutes from my house, I had to jump on it. Including the professor, there are 8 people in my class. I am one of two females (the professor is also female), and one of three English speakers. There are people from Africa and different parts of Asia in my class, and another person who's either extremely quirky or might possibly have Tourette's. I'm cool with whatever, but sometimes it can be hard to keep a straight face. Luckily, I choked on some water early on in the class (I have no idea...), so they were used to hearing me cough.
Overall, I think the semester will be interesting, but totally time consuming. I have another class that starts in October, so I'm hoping to get as far ahead as I can so another 3 credit hours won't seem like a monumental task. I've taken 17 hours in a semester before (although they were split up and some ended as others began), but I think 18 is going to be much more difficult...probably due to the content of the course material.
When I picked B up from school, he jumped in the car yelling, "I LOVE 3RD GRADE!" So, that was positive. N burst through the door half an hour later proclaiming everything (regardless of whether it was positive or negative) in an extremely loud voice, so I feel like he probably had a pretty good day, too.
And, on another positive note, Amazon sucked when it came to actually having my Prime package arrive on time (I ordered something via 2 day shipping on Friday for arrival today), so I scored an extra month of Student Prime before I have to renew my subscription. It doesn't actually HELP the situation, but it's better than zero.
On that note, I'm pretty sure I ran out of energy approximately 4 hours ago. I'm not an early bird, nor am I anything that resembles a morning person. 5:00 is entirely too early...I mean, it's still dark!
Aubs
Anyway, this year, N (a big 7th grader) wasn't feeling the whole Nemo thing; it was totally beneath him. When I played it, he put the pillows over his head and rolled so far that I couldn't reach him. B (a moderately big 3rd grader) was s.l.o.w. going this morning. In fact, he took twice as long to shower as his older brother, and that NEVER happens. When they finally sat down to fresh muffins and some OJ (probably one of a dozen times I'll have time to make a real breakfast this year), they were both crankpots. When I ushered them outside, they were quick to realize that we weren't going to school until we took pictures and took off into remote corners of the parking lot. Seriously? It's just a flippin' picture!
NO problem..."Sure thing, buddy...except for Mrs. S. is behind us right now. Ha!" (Mrs. S. was one of his 5th grade teachers...you know, waaaaay back when.) He walked off to his second year of middle school, and B and I sat down on the sidewalk until it was time for school to open. Meanwhile, a van pulled up next to us and a man unloaded his grandchildren from the van. He looked at me, slightly wild-eyed, and said, "Do you by any chance braid hair?"
Um...what are we talking here? Luckily, the little girl saved me and said, "Just a regular braid is fine." I can handle that, so I braided and adorned that little one's hair to the best of my ability. Finally, the doors opened, so B and I headed inside. On the way, I told him I'd be happy to hug him outside of class if that would be less embarrassing, and he stared at me like I had an extra eyeball and said, "You think you're going to hug me? INSIDE MY SCHOOL?!"
We negotiated for a quick hug in the doorway of a closet next to the cafeteria where there weren't any people around (Sounds totally creepy, doesn't it?) and a fist bump before I walked out of his class. He almost forgot and started to hug me, but I gave him a wink and took a step back and he said, "OH YEAH!" and up came the fist. (I KNEW he wasn't too old for hugs...stinker!) I gave his teacher a rundown of when he needs to go puff on his inhaler and away I went.
I did a couple of miles at Kid Kountry and then came home to work on homework. Oh man...let me just tell you...this schedule will, quite possibly, be the death of me. Texas History? Fine. I like that stuff. World History prior to the 16th Century? Not my favorite, but still doable. International Relations/Issue? Pertinent, but I felt myself going cross-eyed twice in the 13:00 introduction. Microeconomics? Blargh. All online. All the time.
Then I headed to my Spanish class. The degree I'm currently pursuing requires 4 semesters of a foreign language. I originally really wanted to take American Sign Language as my foreign language, but when a Spanish class popped up literally 5 minutes from my house, I had to jump on it. Including the professor, there are 8 people in my class. I am one of two females (the professor is also female), and one of three English speakers. There are people from Africa and different parts of Asia in my class, and another person who's either extremely quirky or might possibly have Tourette's. I'm cool with whatever, but sometimes it can be hard to keep a straight face. Luckily, I choked on some water early on in the class (I have no idea...), so they were used to hearing me cough.
Overall, I think the semester will be interesting, but totally time consuming. I have another class that starts in October, so I'm hoping to get as far ahead as I can so another 3 credit hours won't seem like a monumental task. I've taken 17 hours in a semester before (although they were split up and some ended as others began), but I think 18 is going to be much more difficult...probably due to the content of the course material.
When I picked B up from school, he jumped in the car yelling, "I LOVE 3RD GRADE!" So, that was positive. N burst through the door half an hour later proclaiming everything (regardless of whether it was positive or negative) in an extremely loud voice, so I feel like he probably had a pretty good day, too.
And, on another positive note, Amazon sucked when it came to actually having my Prime package arrive on time (I ordered something via 2 day shipping on Friday for arrival today), so I scored an extra month of Student Prime before I have to renew my subscription. It doesn't actually HELP the situation, but it's better than zero.
On that note, I'm pretty sure I ran out of energy approximately 4 hours ago. I'm not an early bird, nor am I anything that resembles a morning person. 5:00 is entirely too early...I mean, it's still dark!
Aubs
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Hate in my heart
***Disclaimer: This may be a "heavy" post. I have no idea how it's going to go, so at least you've been warned.***
I've had some pretty serious hate in my heart for quite sometime. I've had a fair amount of resentment, too...who doesn't? The thing is, especially lately, I've let that hate take a prominent role in my life. I thought I had successfully squelched it, or at least put an airtight lid on it and shoved it on a back burner. It turns out, I was totally wrong.
Isn't it funny how that happens sometimes? Today at church, the message was all about entertaining at your table. The host takes the head of the table position and the honored guest sits to his/her right. This is a place of importance, a spot intended to wow and dazzle the guest. It's like that in a church, too...the guest/visitor is the center of attention, being wowed right and left by VIP areas and newcomer classes and even gifts for giving the church a try. Yes, that seat is important, but what happens when they "drink the koolaid" and decide that they need to take it to the next level?
They move to the second seat, directly across from the host. Here, a person is considered an "adolescent" Christian. It's still very much all about them, about having their needs met, their prayers answered. They have yet to mature into Christianity...and that's where a lot of people get stuck or revert back to when times get tough. This seat is where being selfish is not outside of the norm, but there's always hope you'll move out of it someday and mature.
When you do, you get to move to the coveted third seat, to the left of the host. Here, you're (spiritually) mature, regardless of your chronological age. You look at the bigger picture, and you sacrifice your wants/needs for others. Here is where I should relate the most; I often make sacrifices for my children to get what they want/need/deserve. I am happy to go without so my boys can have what is most important to them, but am I doing them a disservice by giving in? Am I playing into their schemes? And right about then is when I revert back to selfish activity.
It seems I do a lot of musical chairs at my table. Yes, I will host any day of the week...I love to provide for others and make them feel special. I feel like I am past the "wowing" stage in my Christianity; that I have been sufficiently wooed and am solid in my faith. I struggle from time to time, but who doesn't? But that second seat? Man, it's hard to get out of sometimes. And again, I relate it to parenting; not only to parenting but to parenting in a "two house" family.
The two house scenario is rough even at the best of times, however, it gets even rougher when there is an uneven number of adults in the equation and you are constantly railroaded and overruled simply because there's one of you and two of them. It doesn't seem like it would be fair (it isn't), nor does it seem like it should happen amongst grown adults (it shouldn't), but it does. And I know it happens in more families than my own, but being a biological parent and getting thrown for a total loop by a non-biological parent is a really difficult pill to swallow.
It's even harder to know (deep down) that you're just a scapegoat for whatever is really going on, and that the stresses they speak of are not all stemming from you. It's harder still to know that the one who hurts the most from all of this anger/hatred spewing out is your child, the most innocent one of all. And so, you take it. And you get mad. And you hate....you hate hard. And all of the things that you swept out the door because it was all water under the bridge comes flooding back in like a tsunami. And that hate? That hate takes up permanent residence in your heart once more, this time occupying just a LITTLE more space than it did last time.
I will give myself credit for biting my tongue. When she told me "We're usually good at communicating. We don't have a past." it took every single ounce of power I possess to not spew out all of the ways that we DO, in fact, have a past. And it's big. And ugly. And it's never been resolved because one person acted like it never existed (who knows...she might not even know. (she does)) and the other person has been spending the last 4 years putting all of the pieces back together.
That's what happens when families are not only destroyed but obliterated. It all goes back to hate. I can't even look at or talk to anyone from that part of life without wanting to punch something. Yeah, it's all on me...and I've done a great job of letting go and letting God, but I've jumped back into that second seat at my table. I want revenge. I want to do some damage. I want to cause the hurt instead of feeling it.
And that's probably the worst part of it all. I don't mind hating. It drives me. It's fuel. It's dangerous.
Aubs
I've had some pretty serious hate in my heart for quite sometime. I've had a fair amount of resentment, too...who doesn't? The thing is, especially lately, I've let that hate take a prominent role in my life. I thought I had successfully squelched it, or at least put an airtight lid on it and shoved it on a back burner. It turns out, I was totally wrong.
Isn't it funny how that happens sometimes? Today at church, the message was all about entertaining at your table. The host takes the head of the table position and the honored guest sits to his/her right. This is a place of importance, a spot intended to wow and dazzle the guest. It's like that in a church, too...the guest/visitor is the center of attention, being wowed right and left by VIP areas and newcomer classes and even gifts for giving the church a try. Yes, that seat is important, but what happens when they "drink the koolaid" and decide that they need to take it to the next level?
They move to the second seat, directly across from the host. Here, a person is considered an "adolescent" Christian. It's still very much all about them, about having their needs met, their prayers answered. They have yet to mature into Christianity...and that's where a lot of people get stuck or revert back to when times get tough. This seat is where being selfish is not outside of the norm, but there's always hope you'll move out of it someday and mature.
When you do, you get to move to the coveted third seat, to the left of the host. Here, you're (spiritually) mature, regardless of your chronological age. You look at the bigger picture, and you sacrifice your wants/needs for others. Here is where I should relate the most; I often make sacrifices for my children to get what they want/need/deserve. I am happy to go without so my boys can have what is most important to them, but am I doing them a disservice by giving in? Am I playing into their schemes? And right about then is when I revert back to selfish activity.
It seems I do a lot of musical chairs at my table. Yes, I will host any day of the week...I love to provide for others and make them feel special. I feel like I am past the "wowing" stage in my Christianity; that I have been sufficiently wooed and am solid in my faith. I struggle from time to time, but who doesn't? But that second seat? Man, it's hard to get out of sometimes. And again, I relate it to parenting; not only to parenting but to parenting in a "two house" family.
The two house scenario is rough even at the best of times, however, it gets even rougher when there is an uneven number of adults in the equation and you are constantly railroaded and overruled simply because there's one of you and two of them. It doesn't seem like it would be fair (it isn't), nor does it seem like it should happen amongst grown adults (it shouldn't), but it does. And I know it happens in more families than my own, but being a biological parent and getting thrown for a total loop by a non-biological parent is a really difficult pill to swallow.
It's even harder to know (deep down) that you're just a scapegoat for whatever is really going on, and that the stresses they speak of are not all stemming from you. It's harder still to know that the one who hurts the most from all of this anger/hatred spewing out is your child, the most innocent one of all. And so, you take it. And you get mad. And you hate....you hate hard. And all of the things that you swept out the door because it was all water under the bridge comes flooding back in like a tsunami. And that hate? That hate takes up permanent residence in your heart once more, this time occupying just a LITTLE more space than it did last time.
I will give myself credit for biting my tongue. When she told me "We're usually good at communicating. We don't have a past." it took every single ounce of power I possess to not spew out all of the ways that we DO, in fact, have a past. And it's big. And ugly. And it's never been resolved because one person acted like it never existed (who knows...she might not even know. (she does)) and the other person has been spending the last 4 years putting all of the pieces back together.
That's what happens when families are not only destroyed but obliterated. It all goes back to hate. I can't even look at or talk to anyone from that part of life without wanting to punch something. Yeah, it's all on me...and I've done a great job of letting go and letting God, but I've jumped back into that second seat at my table. I want revenge. I want to do some damage. I want to cause the hurt instead of feeling it.
And that's probably the worst part of it all. I don't mind hating. It drives me. It's fuel. It's dangerous.
Aubs
It's important to slow down sometimes
I will be the first to tell you that I always have entirely too much on my plate. I know I can say "No" sometimes, but I like the challenge. And I like the crazy chaos, too. It's a huge motivator for me. But, as I started planning my life for this semester, I realized that I may be in a bit of a bind.
I'm taking 18 hours this semester: 12 at a 4 year university (all online), and 6 at a community college (3 in person and 3 online). It's the biggest semester load I've ever taken, although I took 17 hours last spring...but the good thing about that was they were spread out into Wintermesters and staggered start dates. In addition to that, I'm substitute teaching to earn some dollars while I go to school, and the good news about that is that I'm doing it in our school district so the travel time is basically zero. In addition to THAT, N's playing baseball this fall, and I agreed to be the team mom. The coach seems like he's pretty organized, so that should be helpful, but I love being the team mom...it just gives me even more of a reason to socialize AND I already know a couple of the moms, and I like them, which is just an added bonus. In addition to THAT, I also said I would help with room mom activities for B's class this year. I know the lead room mom is in our class, so she'll take the lead (see what I did there?), but I'd be happy to help out when and where I can, if I can, and...yeah.
There aren't enough hours in the day or days in the week to do everything I'd like to do. I'd like to be even more involved/active in their lives, but they just don't want that. Actually, I don't think that's entirely true...I think they want it, but they don't want to seem like "Mama's Boys" so they say they don't. N has told me multiple times over the last year or so that he'd rather have his dad attend his games and practices. When I ask him why, he says, "Because I know you're always going to be there, Mom. You always show up. For everything. And it makes me a Mama's Boy. I'm glad you're there, but I wish Dad would be the one to do all that." It breaks my heart over and over again. It really does. I understand where he's coming from. I think that anyone who has parents who travel or who are divorced or not local, wishes that the absent parent had more of an active role. We take the people who are there, day in and day out, for granted.
The same thing applies with B. For the last 9 months or so, his dad has been deathly ill. It's all mostly under control now, but for a while, it was really serious and I honestly didn't know if B would have a dad on this Earth on multiple occasions. B went from seeing his dad every other week (per our agreement) to not seeing him (and rarely speaking to him) for 3 1/2 months. That's a long time for anyone, but when you're 8? It's like a dozen lifetimes. Even now, as our schedule has mostly gone back to normal, B asks to spend more time over there because he wants to make sure his dad's okay. He realizes the situation was serious, even though we downplayed how serious it was so he wouldn't be terrified, and he needs visual proof that his dad is doing okay. And I find myself getting frustrated, even annoyed, by the fact that he'd rather spend time over there.
It made me realize that I need to slow down and live in the moment instead of focusing on what's coming up. I mean, sure...you need to have an idea of what's coming so you can prepare, but all of that focus on the future takes away from being present. And I make myself so busy that I avoid the present altogether. And that's a terrible idea. It's wreaking havoc on my boys, my relationship with them, and our lives in general.
So, tonight? I drove to pick N up after an evening of swimming at his great-grandparents. I volunteered to do it...and as I drove, I made sure the windows were down, the volume was up on the radio/iPod, the A/C was cranking really low (we DO live in Texas, and it was still 96 as I was headed to pick him up), and my make-up free/messy haired self was singing "Chattahoochee" by Alan Jackson at the top of her lungs, much to the amusement of passersby.
And, to be honest? With the warm breeze blowing and the lights of Grapevine Mills behind me, it ALMOST felt like I was driving through the twists and turns of Garner. Almost.
Aubs
I'm taking 18 hours this semester: 12 at a 4 year university (all online), and 6 at a community college (3 in person and 3 online). It's the biggest semester load I've ever taken, although I took 17 hours last spring...but the good thing about that was they were spread out into Wintermesters and staggered start dates. In addition to that, I'm substitute teaching to earn some dollars while I go to school, and the good news about that is that I'm doing it in our school district so the travel time is basically zero. In addition to THAT, N's playing baseball this fall, and I agreed to be the team mom. The coach seems like he's pretty organized, so that should be helpful, but I love being the team mom...it just gives me even more of a reason to socialize AND I already know a couple of the moms, and I like them, which is just an added bonus. In addition to THAT, I also said I would help with room mom activities for B's class this year. I know the lead room mom is in our class, so she'll take the lead (see what I did there?), but I'd be happy to help out when and where I can, if I can, and...yeah.
There aren't enough hours in the day or days in the week to do everything I'd like to do. I'd like to be even more involved/active in their lives, but they just don't want that. Actually, I don't think that's entirely true...I think they want it, but they don't want to seem like "Mama's Boys" so they say they don't. N has told me multiple times over the last year or so that he'd rather have his dad attend his games and practices. When I ask him why, he says, "Because I know you're always going to be there, Mom. You always show up. For everything. And it makes me a Mama's Boy. I'm glad you're there, but I wish Dad would be the one to do all that." It breaks my heart over and over again. It really does. I understand where he's coming from. I think that anyone who has parents who travel or who are divorced or not local, wishes that the absent parent had more of an active role. We take the people who are there, day in and day out, for granted.
The same thing applies with B. For the last 9 months or so, his dad has been deathly ill. It's all mostly under control now, but for a while, it was really serious and I honestly didn't know if B would have a dad on this Earth on multiple occasions. B went from seeing his dad every other week (per our agreement) to not seeing him (and rarely speaking to him) for 3 1/2 months. That's a long time for anyone, but when you're 8? It's like a dozen lifetimes. Even now, as our schedule has mostly gone back to normal, B asks to spend more time over there because he wants to make sure his dad's okay. He realizes the situation was serious, even though we downplayed how serious it was so he wouldn't be terrified, and he needs visual proof that his dad is doing okay. And I find myself getting frustrated, even annoyed, by the fact that he'd rather spend time over there.
It made me realize that I need to slow down and live in the moment instead of focusing on what's coming up. I mean, sure...you need to have an idea of what's coming so you can prepare, but all of that focus on the future takes away from being present. And I make myself so busy that I avoid the present altogether. And that's a terrible idea. It's wreaking havoc on my boys, my relationship with them, and our lives in general.
So, tonight? I drove to pick N up after an evening of swimming at his great-grandparents. I volunteered to do it...and as I drove, I made sure the windows were down, the volume was up on the radio/iPod, the A/C was cranking really low (we DO live in Texas, and it was still 96 as I was headed to pick him up), and my make-up free/messy haired self was singing "Chattahoochee" by Alan Jackson at the top of her lungs, much to the amusement of passersby.
And, to be honest? With the warm breeze blowing and the lights of Grapevine Mills behind me, it ALMOST felt like I was driving through the twists and turns of Garner. Almost.
Aubs
Friday, August 22, 2014
Gropies. They're a real thing.
I know I've blogged about this before, but music is such a huge part of my life... Today, I lost track of how many times a huge grin spread across my face as yet another "favorite" song came out of the speakers from my "constantly on shuffle" iPod. It's shuffling it's way through country playlists this week, but last week I had a few days dedicated solely to Eminem. He's a genius. Yes, I said it. And I don't know how it happened, but as N and I were headed to the grocery store today, he started humming "Rock Bottom."
I turned to stare at him, and before I even spoke the question I was thinking, I answered it. Someone's been hacking into my iPod/iTunes. Also, he's getting really tall. It's creeping me out. Then again, he's still totally a little kid...like when we got home from the grocery store and he was on the couch literally laughing so hard he was giggling and shrieking. I was dying! It's so fun to see a kid who is so serious about being grown up acting like a kid. He forgets that he still is one.
Sometimes, so do I.
BUT, before that, I had him rolling on total accident. I have a friend, Jana, whom I absolutely adore. She has one of the cutest kids on the planet, and I can say that without any bias at all because he's like my own kid and I typically get annoyed by them more than I like them. He's one of the family! Anyway, when he was a kid, he used to talk about going to the "gropy" store instead of the grocery store. This kid would also hum the theme song to "The Banana Splits" using different tones depending on his mood. He's pretty much awesome. So, I told N we were going to the "gropy" store and when he looked at me weird after he snorted, I explained. So, then he asked WHY we had to go to the "gropy" store, and I said, "To get gropies."
Y'all. I have never seen water shoot out of someone's nose and mouth like that. I think it even came out of his eyes. And don't get me started on the noises I was making because I totally lost it. After I thought we'd calmed down, he said, "I get it...everyone needs gropies every now and then." and then y'all? He wiggled his eyebrows in a knowing way, and I lost it all over again.
Who is this child, and where did my sweet little boy who couldn't pronounce his middle name to save his life (Jo-fuss instead of Joseph for 5 years) go? And why, in the name of all things, is he growing a FLIPPIN' MUSTACHE?! I'm not ready for this.
He has 2 inches to go and he'll be taller than me, too...maybe that means he'll start to be loving and protective...especially when I go to the gropy store.
Aubs
I turned to stare at him, and before I even spoke the question I was thinking, I answered it. Someone's been hacking into my iPod/iTunes. Also, he's getting really tall. It's creeping me out. Then again, he's still totally a little kid...like when we got home from the grocery store and he was on the couch literally laughing so hard he was giggling and shrieking. I was dying! It's so fun to see a kid who is so serious about being grown up acting like a kid. He forgets that he still is one.
Sometimes, so do I.
BUT, before that, I had him rolling on total accident. I have a friend, Jana, whom I absolutely adore. She has one of the cutest kids on the planet, and I can say that without any bias at all because he's like my own kid and I typically get annoyed by them more than I like them. He's one of the family! Anyway, when he was a kid, he used to talk about going to the "gropy" store instead of the grocery store. This kid would also hum the theme song to "The Banana Splits" using different tones depending on his mood. He's pretty much awesome. So, I told N we were going to the "gropy" store and when he looked at me weird after he snorted, I explained. So, then he asked WHY we had to go to the "gropy" store, and I said, "To get gropies."
Y'all. I have never seen water shoot out of someone's nose and mouth like that. I think it even came out of his eyes. And don't get me started on the noises I was making because I totally lost it. After I thought we'd calmed down, he said, "I get it...everyone needs gropies every now and then." and then y'all? He wiggled his eyebrows in a knowing way, and I lost it all over again.
Who is this child, and where did my sweet little boy who couldn't pronounce his middle name to save his life (Jo-fuss instead of Joseph for 5 years) go? And why, in the name of all things, is he growing a FLIPPIN' MUSTACHE?! I'm not ready for this.
He has 2 inches to go and he'll be taller than me, too...maybe that means he'll start to be loving and protective...especially when I go to the gropy store.
Aubs
Thursday, August 21, 2014
I have a twin
No, really. It's true. And while my hair is a slightly different color today than it was when this picture was taken, I'm pretty sure it's still fairly obvious:
Granted, he looks like he needs to go to the bathroom (he did), but that's my mini. He is so like me in so many ways, right down to the way he annoys the ever-loving crap out of me on a regular basis. I find myself constantly yelling, "HULA HOOP!" which is code for "Get out of my personal space before I suffer from a total breakdown."
I'm thinking of getting a tattoo...on my forehead, no less. Anyway, there's no doubt who this child belongs to...the blue eyes, the light-ish hair (granted my hair changes on a sporadic basis, based on season/mood/boredom level), and the cheeks. Oh, the cheeks. I just want to take a bite out of them!
Tonight, we met his teacher, and when he was standing next to me introducing himself, his sweet teacher said, "Well, there's no doubt who you belong to! You look just like your mom!" Have I mentioned that I really like her?
Well. Then. I was about to introduce his dad and stepmom to the teacher, when stepmom started talking over me, introducing B's dad, and do you know what she said?! "This is B's dad, the one he REALLY looks like! Those lips!" And his teacher was quick to reply, "Oh yes...I see that he does."
Aca-scuse me?! Not only is my B my mini, but he's also my dad's clone. It's RIDICULOUS how much they look alike, and their birthdays are (52 years and) a day apart, too. I was dumbfounded. And speechless. BUT, I recovered and tried to introduce her, only to be cut off once again.
I have no words. I was telling my friend about it earlier this evening, in the presence of her sweet 6 year-old girl, and my C said, "Ms. Aubrey, she talked OVER you? That's so rude!"
Because even a small kiddo knows you just don't. Maybe it was the heat (the air conditioning didn't seem to be working very well, or at all) and she was cranky, but I still don't know how to respond to that, even hours later.
I also have a pretty fantastic bruise forming on my right knee. I think it'll be epic in both size and color when it's at its peak. See, I was walking through a store, a little on the fast side because N wouldn't stop talking to hear himself talk and it was pretty much making me wonder if I had any wine at home (Nope). I stopped to look at something, but my shoe kept going and the next thing I know, I'm totally taking a knee.
Good news? I didn't flash anyone. You know, since I was wearing a dress. I also didn't break anything, bleed, or cause any damage...aside from the edge of my big toe on my right foot. My poor pedicure is a little cracked now.
Call the Whambulance! I think I need a checkup!
Aubs
I'm thinking of getting a tattoo...on my forehead, no less. Anyway, there's no doubt who this child belongs to...the blue eyes, the light-ish hair (granted my hair changes on a sporadic basis, based on season/mood/boredom level), and the cheeks. Oh, the cheeks. I just want to take a bite out of them!
Tonight, we met his teacher, and when he was standing next to me introducing himself, his sweet teacher said, "Well, there's no doubt who you belong to! You look just like your mom!" Have I mentioned that I really like her?
Well. Then. I was about to introduce his dad and stepmom to the teacher, when stepmom started talking over me, introducing B's dad, and do you know what she said?! "This is B's dad, the one he REALLY looks like! Those lips!" And his teacher was quick to reply, "Oh yes...I see that he does."
Aca-scuse me?! Not only is my B my mini, but he's also my dad's clone. It's RIDICULOUS how much they look alike, and their birthdays are (52 years and) a day apart, too. I was dumbfounded. And speechless. BUT, I recovered and tried to introduce her, only to be cut off once again.
I have no words. I was telling my friend about it earlier this evening, in the presence of her sweet 6 year-old girl, and my C said, "Ms. Aubrey, she talked OVER you? That's so rude!"
Because even a small kiddo knows you just don't. Maybe it was the heat (the air conditioning didn't seem to be working very well, or at all) and she was cranky, but I still don't know how to respond to that, even hours later.
I also have a pretty fantastic bruise forming on my right knee. I think it'll be epic in both size and color when it's at its peak. See, I was walking through a store, a little on the fast side because N wouldn't stop talking to hear himself talk and it was pretty much making me wonder if I had any wine at home (Nope). I stopped to look at something, but my shoe kept going and the next thing I know, I'm totally taking a knee.
Good news? I didn't flash anyone. You know, since I was wearing a dress. I also didn't break anything, bleed, or cause any damage...aside from the edge of my big toe on my right foot. My poor pedicure is a little cracked now.
Call the Whambulance! I think I need a checkup!
Aubs
Wednesday, August 20, 2014
I'm in a relationship with Geek Squad
It's true. We're totally on again/off again, but last night? It was SO on.
I linked up with them to fix a Java issue on my laptop. Both colleges I attend use Java as part of their blackboard ecampus system thing-a-ma-jig, but one school prefers Internet Explorer while the other prefers Firefox. The only problem is, the latest version of Java isn't compatible with either one of them. It should've been an easy fix, but have you met me? Rarely do the "easy" fixes work.
A problem that Geek Squad rep Brian D. said would only take an hour or two when he passed me off to Johnny T. ended up taking six hours. S. I. X. It's a good thing I started this at 10:30 last night.
He called me and woke me up out of a dead sleep at 3:32 a.m. to ask me to put in my blackboard information so he could check Java. And guess what. It still didn't work. He finally ended up getting it to work on one browser, but the other one? "Um, maybe you should contact your university and tell them you're having an issue..."
Thanks, Captain Obvious.
Needless to say, I totally overslept this morning, and that's okay because we had nothing planned at all. As in, I literally sat around and read or caught up on episodes of "Who Do You Think You Are?" because, y'all? I love that show! I cried right along with Lisa Kudrow when she found out that a relative her father thought had died years and years ago was actually alive and well. Oh. Spoiler alert. Whoops! Since the episode came out years ago, I doubt it's news, but it was precious hearing her tell her father that his relative was alive and watching the two old men Skype?? Waterworks!
I'm enjoying my last couple of days of "freedom" and reading for fun. My textbooks for some of my classes should be here tomorrow, and then all the fun is sucked out of my life...at least until December. Ha, right. I'm so excited about school that I even find myself annoying. The anticipation is always so much more fun than actuality.
Anyway, I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to break the news to my maintenance man that we aren't exclusive. Sure, he fixes my air conditioner, but I only use that for half of the year...I use my laptop WAY more often, so my heart will always be loyal to the Geek Squad. Sometimes the truth hurts, but you know what?
Our failed relationship will make the maintenance man THAT much stronger...and we'll always stay friends.
As long as he keeps fixing my ac!
Aubs
I linked up with them to fix a Java issue on my laptop. Both colleges I attend use Java as part of their blackboard ecampus system thing-a-ma-jig, but one school prefers Internet Explorer while the other prefers Firefox. The only problem is, the latest version of Java isn't compatible with either one of them. It should've been an easy fix, but have you met me? Rarely do the "easy" fixes work.
A problem that Geek Squad rep Brian D. said would only take an hour or two when he passed me off to Johnny T. ended up taking six hours. S. I. X. It's a good thing I started this at 10:30 last night.
He called me and woke me up out of a dead sleep at 3:32 a.m. to ask me to put in my blackboard information so he could check Java. And guess what. It still didn't work. He finally ended up getting it to work on one browser, but the other one? "Um, maybe you should contact your university and tell them you're having an issue..."
Thanks, Captain Obvious.
Needless to say, I totally overslept this morning, and that's okay because we had nothing planned at all. As in, I literally sat around and read or caught up on episodes of "Who Do You Think You Are?" because, y'all? I love that show! I cried right along with Lisa Kudrow when she found out that a relative her father thought had died years and years ago was actually alive and well. Oh. Spoiler alert. Whoops! Since the episode came out years ago, I doubt it's news, but it was precious hearing her tell her father that his relative was alive and watching the two old men Skype?? Waterworks!
I'm enjoying my last couple of days of "freedom" and reading for fun. My textbooks for some of my classes should be here tomorrow, and then all the fun is sucked out of my life...at least until December. Ha, right. I'm so excited about school that I even find myself annoying. The anticipation is always so much more fun than actuality.
Anyway, I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to break the news to my maintenance man that we aren't exclusive. Sure, he fixes my air conditioner, but I only use that for half of the year...I use my laptop WAY more often, so my heart will always be loyal to the Geek Squad. Sometimes the truth hurts, but you know what?
Our failed relationship will make the maintenance man THAT much stronger...and we'll always stay friends.
As long as he keeps fixing my ac!
Aubs
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
It's almost time!!!
Today, when I checked the mail, I found B's teacher assignment in my mailbox. I did NOT, however, find the information I was looking for so I am able to claim the financial aid refund sitting in my UNT account.
As soon as I opened the letter (after hesitating for about .42 seconds while contemplating waiting for B to be home to open it), I text my friend who also works at B's school to find out if her daughter would be in B's class again. Sadly, it was not meant to be...
As soon as I had her name (let's call her Mrs. H.), I looked her up on the school website and discovered that this was her first year at our school, but she had been teaching for several years at another school in our district. And then my friend set me straight when she told me the server was down and that was last year's information.
Thank God for yearbooks.
I started asking around (we have several neighbors with kids B's age) to see if anyone was in his class. Nobody. Not one. SO, I'm feeling a little anxious, although, finding out who isn't in the class is almost as good because you can cross a lot of names off the list.
And then I started thinking about little gifts we could take for "Meet the Teacher" night...not because I'm a suck-up (or because I want B to be one), but because I know she must be very patient to deal with 3rd graders. Let's face it...this is kind of a BIG year. Division, fractions, multiplication, STAAR testing...man, I hate that standardized testing.
I've been assured that she is a patient woman and tons of fun...the kind of teacher who will jump up on the desk to get attention or call for a mandatory dance party when the need to wiggle around is too powerful to ignore.
And, to be honest, I'm really excited to meet her.
Really.
N and I went to dinner at Applebees tonight, with the idea of having dinner "unplugged." It didn't last long. Not because we didn't have anything to say to each other, but because the table that ended up next to us was absolutely awful.
They had our server running all over, answering questions, making changes, sending the manager over to explain why things couldn't be substituted...and then, when it seemed calm and he'd just put in their order, they changed it.
All. Of. It.
After we left, leaving him a note and a good tip to compensate for the fact that we knew the other table wouldn't, I called the store and spoke to the manager. So many people complain to management, and very few compliment the service they receive unless there's something in it for them. The manager knew exactly what table I was talking about, and he sighed heavily. And then? The bombshell! "This is his first week on the floor...he's had some positive feedback, but nobody has taken the time and energy to call me to talk to me about a positive experience with any employee."
Y'all. I felt so sorry for the whole situation. That server went out of his way to be kind, patient, and accommodating, and all the table did was complain. Not only that, but they were there setting a terrible example for their two small (impressionable) children...probably B's age.
After we got home, I did what I've been avoiding for a week or so...I ordered my textbooks for school. I also *HAD* to order some more lotion from Bath & Body Works because they only have my smell online, and I hate when I run out. I even took my stash from Houston this weekend when I was there visiting my dad. PLUS, if I purchased today, I received a full-size apple soap and apple/rum/something magical lotion, too...which I will never use personally, but I bet a teacher would like it. Soapbox: I love plain, old, regular Cherry Blossom from B&BW. Not Japanese Cherry Blossom...the regular one. And it's not in stores except for the soap is every once in a while during the rubber duck clearance sale. And only sometimes. And I love it...and if anyone purchases it for me, you're guaranteed BFF (aka "Biffle") status for life.
But, I digress...back to textbooks. I've been holding out hope that my refund would magically appear, but there's been a snag.
Shocker. No, really. The reason for the delay?
(Wait for it...it's worth it, I promise!)
My address is too many characters. Yes, seriously. I mean...I have so much control over the length of my address, right? I guess I could move, but that's taking it a little too far, I think. After being on hold with multiple departments for almost an entire workday, I finally shortened my address and within 24 hours, my address had been "approved" (thank you, so much, for approving my address...I feel so validated) and my card was supposedly shipped. So, now I'm deep in the throes of the waiting game, and I am not a patient person.
Just ask my kids.
Aubs
As soon as I opened the letter (after hesitating for about .42 seconds while contemplating waiting for B to be home to open it), I text my friend who also works at B's school to find out if her daughter would be in B's class again. Sadly, it was not meant to be...
As soon as I had her name (let's call her Mrs. H.), I looked her up on the school website and discovered that this was her first year at our school, but she had been teaching for several years at another school in our district. And then my friend set me straight when she told me the server was down and that was last year's information.
Thank God for yearbooks.
I started asking around (we have several neighbors with kids B's age) to see if anyone was in his class. Nobody. Not one. SO, I'm feeling a little anxious, although, finding out who isn't in the class is almost as good because you can cross a lot of names off the list.
And then I started thinking about little gifts we could take for "Meet the Teacher" night...not because I'm a suck-up (or because I want B to be one), but because I know she must be very patient to deal with 3rd graders. Let's face it...this is kind of a BIG year. Division, fractions, multiplication, STAAR testing...man, I hate that standardized testing.
I've been assured that she is a patient woman and tons of fun...the kind of teacher who will jump up on the desk to get attention or call for a mandatory dance party when the need to wiggle around is too powerful to ignore.
And, to be honest, I'm really excited to meet her.
Really.
N and I went to dinner at Applebees tonight, with the idea of having dinner "unplugged." It didn't last long. Not because we didn't have anything to say to each other, but because the table that ended up next to us was absolutely awful.
They had our server running all over, answering questions, making changes, sending the manager over to explain why things couldn't be substituted...and then, when it seemed calm and he'd just put in their order, they changed it.
All. Of. It.
After we left, leaving him a note and a good tip to compensate for the fact that we knew the other table wouldn't, I called the store and spoke to the manager. So many people complain to management, and very few compliment the service they receive unless there's something in it for them. The manager knew exactly what table I was talking about, and he sighed heavily. And then? The bombshell! "This is his first week on the floor...he's had some positive feedback, but nobody has taken the time and energy to call me to talk to me about a positive experience with any employee."
Y'all. I felt so sorry for the whole situation. That server went out of his way to be kind, patient, and accommodating, and all the table did was complain. Not only that, but they were there setting a terrible example for their two small (impressionable) children...probably B's age.
After we got home, I did what I've been avoiding for a week or so...I ordered my textbooks for school. I also *HAD* to order some more lotion from Bath & Body Works because they only have my smell online, and I hate when I run out. I even took my stash from Houston this weekend when I was there visiting my dad. PLUS, if I purchased today, I received a full-size apple soap and apple/rum/something magical lotion, too...which I will never use personally, but I bet a teacher would like it. Soapbox: I love plain, old, regular Cherry Blossom from B&BW. Not Japanese Cherry Blossom...the regular one. And it's not in stores except for the soap is every once in a while during the rubber duck clearance sale. And only sometimes. And I love it...and if anyone purchases it for me, you're guaranteed BFF (aka "Biffle") status for life.
But, I digress...back to textbooks. I've been holding out hope that my refund would magically appear, but there's been a snag.
Shocker. No, really. The reason for the delay?
(Wait for it...it's worth it, I promise!)
My address is too many characters. Yes, seriously. I mean...I have so much control over the length of my address, right? I guess I could move, but that's taking it a little too far, I think. After being on hold with multiple departments for almost an entire workday, I finally shortened my address and within 24 hours, my address had been "approved" (thank you, so much, for approving my address...I feel so validated) and my card was supposedly shipped. So, now I'm deep in the throes of the waiting game, and I am not a patient person.
Just ask my kids.
Aubs
Monday, August 18, 2014
My legs! I can't feel my legs!
For several months, I haven't been able to work out on a regular basis. Why? Well, it's very technical.
I'm lazy. After running like a crazy person for months and months, I decided to take it WAAAAAAAY easy and just let things be lazy. The end result? Well, it's not good. And I refuse to buy bigger jeans or shorts, so I'm living in yoga pants and dresses until I get this back in check.
It's going to be a process. I've been on a sporadic squat and crunch regimen with an even more sporadic planking and arms routine. I always say I'm going to start on a Monday because it's already the crappiest day of the week, so I may as well go big or go home.
It's always next Monday.
Except for today. N went to play dodgeball and I went to Target only to find out that the store suffered a power outage on Sunday during the storms that I missed because I was in Houston and it was NOT raining for once in my life, therefore they were unable to sell frozen items, produce or anything that needed to be refrigerated. SO, I wouldn't let that rain on my parade (see what I did there?) and bought all of the non-cold-ish stuff on my list.
When I was unloading my groceries, the head maintenance man drove up in his golf cart and scared the ever-loving crap out of me. He asked how my ac unit was working, and I told him it was fine, but it wasn't Thursday yet. Every single Thursday for the past month or so (usually after hours, obviously), my ac breaks and I call in an emergency maintenance request because an ac that doesn't work in the middle of the summer?! Freakin' emergency. As in...Danger, Will Robinson.
(Sidenote: I have heard that phrase a zillion times in my life, however I have never actually watched Star Trek. I have, however, watched Reading Rainbow with great gusto. (Does Lavar Burton even say that, or am I making it up?) And I know it means the you-know-what is about to hit the fan with a serious emergency...like no air conditioning in eleventy degree weather.)
Anyway, I told him it wasn't Thursday yet, and he laughed and said he'd come see me on Thursday, then. And as I walked up the stairs, I realized that my maintenance man pretty much said we have a date on Friday. To look at the ac. How romantic. I always knew he broke it to come hang out with the cool kids.
Okay, so...back to working out. After the grocery fiasco, I thought about working out. Hardcore. And then I thought about taking a nap. And then this happened:
This means two things:
1. I acted on my instinct...yay for me!!
2. Someone knows the password for my phone...boo!
When I went to pick N up from Ben's house, he pitched a fit over Subway, and I didn't kill him. I call that a productive day. I sent him to his room while I went down to the gym to do a mile on the treadmill and a mile on the elliptical. Let's not get too crazy, here...then I did a few rounds of stairs (in an attempt to drag my workout time out as long as possible), then 150 crunches, and THEN the Xbox power cord and I went back inside our apartment.
Oh, yes. I'm THAT evil mom. I held my diabolical laugh in, but it was really rough.
That probably burned 3,000 calories all by itself.
I wish you could lose weight simply by being diabolical. I'd be soooooooo thin!
Not that I want to be thin. Because I don't. I'm mostly happy with the way I am.
I'd just like a little less jiggle.
Who wouldn't? I mean, besides someone who can stand sideways, stick out their tongue, and look like a zipper?
Aubs
I'm lazy. After running like a crazy person for months and months, I decided to take it WAAAAAAAY easy and just let things be lazy. The end result? Well, it's not good. And I refuse to buy bigger jeans or shorts, so I'm living in yoga pants and dresses until I get this back in check.
It's going to be a process. I've been on a sporadic squat and crunch regimen with an even more sporadic planking and arms routine. I always say I'm going to start on a Monday because it's already the crappiest day of the week, so I may as well go big or go home.
It's always next Monday.
Except for today. N went to play dodgeball and I went to Target only to find out that the store suffered a power outage on Sunday during the storms that I missed because I was in Houston and it was NOT raining for once in my life, therefore they were unable to sell frozen items, produce or anything that needed to be refrigerated. SO, I wouldn't let that rain on my parade (see what I did there?) and bought all of the non-cold-ish stuff on my list.
When I was unloading my groceries, the head maintenance man drove up in his golf cart and scared the ever-loving crap out of me. He asked how my ac unit was working, and I told him it was fine, but it wasn't Thursday yet. Every single Thursday for the past month or so (usually after hours, obviously), my ac breaks and I call in an emergency maintenance request because an ac that doesn't work in the middle of the summer?! Freakin' emergency. As in...Danger, Will Robinson.
(Sidenote: I have heard that phrase a zillion times in my life, however I have never actually watched Star Trek. I have, however, watched Reading Rainbow with great gusto. (Does Lavar Burton even say that, or am I making it up?) And I know it means the you-know-what is about to hit the fan with a serious emergency...like no air conditioning in eleventy degree weather.)
Anyway, I told him it wasn't Thursday yet, and he laughed and said he'd come see me on Thursday, then. And as I walked up the stairs, I realized that my maintenance man pretty much said we have a date on Friday. To look at the ac. How romantic. I always knew he broke it to come hang out with the cool kids.
Okay, so...back to working out. After the grocery fiasco, I thought about working out. Hardcore. And then I thought about taking a nap. And then this happened:
1. I acted on my instinct...yay for me!!
2. Someone knows the password for my phone...boo!
When I went to pick N up from Ben's house, he pitched a fit over Subway, and I didn't kill him. I call that a productive day. I sent him to his room while I went down to the gym to do a mile on the treadmill and a mile on the elliptical. Let's not get too crazy, here...then I did a few rounds of stairs (in an attempt to drag my workout time out as long as possible), then 150 crunches, and THEN the Xbox power cord and I went back inside our apartment.
Oh, yes. I'm THAT evil mom. I held my diabolical laugh in, but it was really rough.
That probably burned 3,000 calories all by itself.
I wish you could lose weight simply by being diabolical. I'd be soooooooo thin!
Not that I want to be thin. Because I don't. I'm mostly happy with the way I am.
I'd just like a little less jiggle.
Who wouldn't? I mean, besides someone who can stand sideways, stick out their tongue, and look like a zipper?
Aubs
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Sometimes you gotta roll with the punches...
...because let's face it: It definitely beats being a punching bag.
To say our lives have been hectic throughout the last 11 months would be an understatement. Between school and work and homework and room mom and team mom and baseball practices and baseball games and trying to maintain a minimal amount of sanity, well...let's just say it hasn't been easy.
BUT.
It's been so worth it. My boys took a lot of "stressed out mom" moments and meltdowns, but the end result was a college degree and a decision (much to their dismay) to continue with my education at a local four year university. In a dramatic turn of events, I jumped off the nursing school train (just temporarily) and jumped on the BAS Interdisciplinary Studies with a minor in Secondary Education train. Say what?! Yeah, that's exactly what my family said, too.
Long story short? I want to be able to have summers with my boys while they still semi-like having me around. I want to be able to not worry about what date I need to sign B up for summer camps before all of the slots fill up, and I don't want to have to worry about paying for full months of childcare when I'll only use half of it.
Just call the Whambulance. I'm due for a check-up.
Anyway, as soon as I finished my 2-year degree in May, I applied and was accepted to UNT in 3.2 seconds since my Associates in Science was complete. It's doubtful that everyone in my family was on board with my choice at the beginning (my boys are still firmly in the "Mom, don't keep going to school camp"), but it seems like they're all super supportive now. Ish.
In an attempt to make a few dollars, I'm jumping into substitute teaching in the school district my boys attend, and at least one of them is horrified at the idea of having their mom as a substitute. I could easily turn down the 3rd grade teaching opportunities at B's school, but I wouldn't necessarily know if I'd be teaching any one of N's 8 7th grade classes. Sidenote: I think it's hilarious that he thought he was going to have 3 electives this year, only to find out that one elective is mandatory, thus not an elective, but still listed as one.
It's just one of those things that tickles my funny bone. Also, I whacked mine on the door earlier today. It was not funny.
The boys and I just got back from a weekend in Houston...our first one in a long time. B hadn't been down there since last October, and N & I hadn't been there since Spring Break. It was great to just hang out at my dad's; he has TERRIBLE cell reception, so I'm mostly cut off from the world except when I squint just right, hold my phone "just so," and text diagonally.
You think I'm kidding, but I'm totally not. It's THAT ridiculous.
SO, we have a week left until school starts for all of us: 3rd grade, 7th grade, and 18 hours of pure torture!
Who am I kidding? I can't wait for the chaos!
(I probably need to restock my K-Cups...)
Aubs
To say our lives have been hectic throughout the last 11 months would be an understatement. Between school and work and homework and room mom and team mom and baseball practices and baseball games and trying to maintain a minimal amount of sanity, well...let's just say it hasn't been easy.
BUT.
It's been so worth it. My boys took a lot of "stressed out mom" moments and meltdowns, but the end result was a college degree and a decision (much to their dismay) to continue with my education at a local four year university. In a dramatic turn of events, I jumped off the nursing school train (just temporarily) and jumped on the BAS Interdisciplinary Studies with a minor in Secondary Education train. Say what?! Yeah, that's exactly what my family said, too.
Long story short? I want to be able to have summers with my boys while they still semi-like having me around. I want to be able to not worry about what date I need to sign B up for summer camps before all of the slots fill up, and I don't want to have to worry about paying for full months of childcare when I'll only use half of it.
Just call the Whambulance. I'm due for a check-up.
Anyway, as soon as I finished my 2-year degree in May, I applied and was accepted to UNT in 3.2 seconds since my Associates in Science was complete. It's doubtful that everyone in my family was on board with my choice at the beginning (my boys are still firmly in the "Mom, don't keep going to school camp"), but it seems like they're all super supportive now. Ish.
In an attempt to make a few dollars, I'm jumping into substitute teaching in the school district my boys attend, and at least one of them is horrified at the idea of having their mom as a substitute. I could easily turn down the 3rd grade teaching opportunities at B's school, but I wouldn't necessarily know if I'd be teaching any one of N's 8 7th grade classes. Sidenote: I think it's hilarious that he thought he was going to have 3 electives this year, only to find out that one elective is mandatory, thus not an elective, but still listed as one.
It's just one of those things that tickles my funny bone. Also, I whacked mine on the door earlier today. It was not funny.
The boys and I just got back from a weekend in Houston...our first one in a long time. B hadn't been down there since last October, and N & I hadn't been there since Spring Break. It was great to just hang out at my dad's; he has TERRIBLE cell reception, so I'm mostly cut off from the world except when I squint just right, hold my phone "just so," and text diagonally.
You think I'm kidding, but I'm totally not. It's THAT ridiculous.
SO, we have a week left until school starts for all of us: 3rd grade, 7th grade, and 18 hours of pure torture!
Who am I kidding? I can't wait for the chaos!
(I probably need to restock my K-Cups...)
Aubs
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