Mashup: Christmas Edition

If I were to create a mashup that fully describes my life at this exact moment, it would be “There’s No Place Like Home (For the Holidays)” and “All By Myself.”

“Oh, there’s no place like home all by myyyyyselllllllf.”

Today, I took N to meet B and his dad at the movies to see Assassin’s Creed.  I figured it would be terrible, which is partially why I didn’t want to go.  Also, I was specifically asked not to attend, so there’s that.  When N got home, I didn’t even get a chance to ask before he blurted, “Video games should never become movies, Mom.  EVER.”

Then we packed his bag (and Xbox One), and his stepmom came to pick him up.  He’ll be back on Monday or Tuesday, which coincides with when B returns, too.  What does this mean?  It means that, for the second year in a row, I’m all by myself for Christmas.  Last year, I gave up my holiday so it could be spent with other family members, and I was happy to do it.  This year, it’s simply not my year.  It’s one of the great joys of custody arrangements.  When they were younger, it really bothered me.  Don’t get me wrong…it still bothers me, but I know we’ll celebrate when they’re back. 

Plus, downtime is probably good for the soul.  Or so I hear.  So, once N left, I sat on the couch and thought about what I would do.  I wrapped the presents that arrived today.  I painted my fingernails.  I deleted some stuff off the DVR.  I browsed through Netflix looking for something intriguing.  And then I ultimately decided that I would go get Starbucks and look at Christmas lights.  So, I did, and I listened to 98 Degrees this Christmas and then Straight No Chaser Christmas Cheers while I looped through Coppell, hitting all of the houses I usually go to with my adopted family who still likes to look at Christmas lights. 

I’m not sure when my boys grew up to where they no longer cared about anything Christmas-related (except presents, of course), but it happened.  It feels very Grinchy around here these days…but not right now because I have a fire crackling in the fireplace, the Christmas lights in my living room are glowing, and I can hear the rain falling outside.  Now that the semester is over, the most difficult question I face is, “Should I binge-watch something on Netflix, or read a book?”

Choices, y’all.  Neither of which is captivating my full attention.  My little mind hamster is running for his life on his cute little wheel.  It’s even thinking about what New Year’s Resolutions I’ll make and not keep.

So you have to know…I’m desperate.

Aubs

Free-time Fixer

Since I have nothing left to focus on, school-wise, it's been pretty relaxing around here.  B gleefully turned off any remaining alarms on Friday afternoon when he got home, and we've been feeding the fireplace all weekend, thanks to a (WONDERFUL) arctic blast that pushed its way through North Texas for the last few days. 

And apparently I'm so boring that now the weather takes top priority when I blog. 

See, the problem is I have a really awesome story to tell, but I can't tell it just yet...because knowing my kid, he'd find it because...Google.  It's so hard to surprise them these days.  It almost makes me miss the years where they were thrilled to get ridiculously inexpensive toys that broke within three days.  Almost.  Not quite.

Today I went to Denton to do a gift exchange with my favorite former professor.  We meet for lunch every once in a while, and she had to be at school today, so it worked out.  When I walked in, she was on the phone.  She saw the blanket in my hand and shook her head, laughing.  Then she pulled a bag out from under her desk, a bag that contained the most beautiful cream-colored blanket.  We're such twinsies!  We had a great lunch and a really wonderful conversation and began a secret mission to locate someone we both care about who has dropped off the radar.

This year I don't have the boys for Christmas, and I've mostly convinced myself I'm okay with that.  I'm okay with trading; it's not their fault our family is split into pieces.  And although I have a part in that split, it's no longer anybody's fault.  It was truly for the best.  I'm so much happier this way, and so is everyone else involved...even if the boys DO want a man around sometimes.

Thankfully, I have a wonderful village of people who are willing and able to step up and be involved if I ask, and even if I don't.  I have a friend who said he would come give N pointers on skating, and another friend who tutored him in Algebra.  I have friends who let me vent about things with B and offer advise and suggestions, or even just let me rant endlessly.  I don't think it ever really occurred to me just how much of a village I had until last week.

Last week, I had lunch with a friend, and on the way back to her office, we had the most emotional heart-to-heart conversation.  I cried.  She cried.  She told me I always had her back and her husbands back and that I always showed up.  It didn't seem like a big deal to me because I don't even think about it...it's just a natural reaction, but she called me the exception, not the rule.  And then I cried some more.  And she cried some more.  And then the windows on her car randomly rolled down, so we both stared at her car in complete silence.  She is, honestly, one of the best friends I have ever had.  She has seen me at my best, worst, weirdest, most awkward...and she still shows up and loves me no matter what, and vice versa.  I would be lost without her.

I'm a fixer.  I always have been.  I want to help people.  I want to make others' lives easier, even if it causes my own to be more difficult.  I don't care.  I have seen so many people lose people they care about without getting a chance to let them know how much they were valued.  I don't want that to be a regret I have...ever.  So, when I have someone on my mind, in my heart, or a combination thereof, I'm going to speak up, even if it makes me seem a little nuts.

Needless to say, I've been pretty nuts these days.  Memory lane is running rampant through my brain.  And for a while, I wished I could turn it off...but now I'm not so sure.

Since there's nothing going on with school, there's nothing super exciting going on around here.  It gives the brain a while lot of time to wander.

I'm not sure how that will all pan out. 

Yikes!

Aubs

The arsenal in my bed

Before you let your imagination get away from you, let me explain.  You'll find that I'm actually pretty boring. 

Since I sleep alone, I get to sprawl across my bed at night, or in the morning after the boys go to school, or after school, or all weekend long.  I typically like to be in the middle with things that are necessary to life on either side.  On any given day, you might find glasses, multiple ponytail holders, pens and pencils (double duty as writing utensils and devices used to put my hair up), long toothpicks (again...for putting my hair up), chapstick (Baby Lips is my favorite at night), water bottle, books, notepad, several pillows, my phone, and remote controls.

Some of these will get kicked to either nightstand, but the ponytail holders, Baby Lips, water bottle, glasses, and lotion (Oh, I forgot lotion in my aforementioned list) usually stay within arm's reach...and since I have T-Rex arms, that means they stay pretty close.  If I ever opted to share a bed again, I'd have to upgrade to a King...and/or find a significant other who didn't mind Baby Lips shoved under his pillow.  A girl has her priorities.

But, as it stands now, I'm just flying solo, so it's just me and my arsenal all cozy in my purple paisley flannel sheets.

My mom is moving to the town where I live, so today I met her at her new house to meet a potential contractor.  The only downside to her house (aside from the atrocious lawn ornament adorning the side of her new driveway) is that it only has a concrete pad...no garage.  The layout of the house makes adding an attached garage kind of tricky, but I like puzzles, so that's why I went along.  The contractor, however, does not seem to like puzzles.  Nor does he seem to like explaining ideas or any possibilities.  He did seem quite excited about shooting down any possibilities, but that might just be my take on the situation because I was cold and he was extremely late...and then he blamed his dad for being late.  Also, his dad is almost 88 and he is probably a handful of years older than my own father and far too old to be blaming his father for his time management skills.  It was an interesting afternoon.

Then I picked B up from school and we headed off to the wonderful world of allergy shots.  Can I just take a moment to say how much I adore our doctor?  Not only is she wonderful and super-accessible, but her staff is also delightful.  They are so accommodating and fun to talk to...and they find B hilarious, although I think you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who didn't think he was funny at least some of the time.  He's a character, and he definitely comes by it honestly. 

On the way to his weekly appointment, he was telling me about the holiday party his class had today since they have early release tomorrow.  He told me about how they made mugs, but then he dropped his on the sidewalk and it shattered, so he just walked in the other direction (whistling) so nobody would know it was his.  He also said they did some karaoke, but he and his friends were annoyed because they were only allowed to do Christmas songs, and he really just wanted to drop a beat.

What?  It's like my precious elementary schooler suddenly morphed into the freshman.  Please.  No.  I can't deal with another one of those right now.  He's completed 4/7 finals, and has his most difficult core class final tomorrow, followed by what should be his easiest core class final, so that should be fun.  He did enjoy getting out of school at 12:30 today, and is looking forward to the same tomorrow.  B gets out at 12:50, and then our break officially begins.  I'm not sure I'm ready for all of the together time...

Add a 50 degree temperature drop on Saturday, and all signs point to me barricading myself in my room by Sunday.  In other words, it's another typical weekend in our household.

My overachiever self is really struggling with my final grades.  Although, points-wise, I have all As for the semester, the professor in one class only counts 93 and above as an A.  I'm below that, so I'm struggling with a 3.5 gpa instead of what I feel should be a 4.0.  It really bugs me.  I know I'm not the only one; there are several in the same boat I'm in, but it still stinks.  I had much higher expectations, and although I thought I enjoyed this professor, now I'm dreading taking another class of hers (no other option) in the spring.  I'm also not alone in this...but I guess I'll just suck it up and take it.  It could be a lot worse.  I know that.  I just really wanted the 4.0.

Don't worry.  I already called the whambulance, and it's coming to take me away.

Which I'm totally fine with...as long as the EMTs are cute...and they let me bring the arsenal in my bed.

Aubs

Surrounded by Scrooges

I'm not sure what's going on with my precious gifts from above lately, but they have formed a mutiny against me...or decorating for Christmas.  N said he didn't even know why we bothered decorating the Christmas tree because it just meant we had to take it all down in a few weeks.  B wanted a decorated tree, but he wanted me to do all of the decorating.  I was done with both of them, so I divided the ornaments into four piles: N's, B's, mine, and those ornaments not dedicated to any particular individual.  A lot of the ornaments in the last category come from my childhood, but I'm equal opportunity about who hangs them on the tree.  And it's not like the boys are super old, so they only have as many ornaments as years they've been alive...so clearly, it was pure torture to put 14 and 11 ornaments, respectively, on the tree.

We laughed over N's unfortunate choice of ornament when he was in Kindergarten (Jeff Gordon), then laughed harder when the string broke and he crafted a noose instead.  We laughed even harder at the candy canes B made when he was younger, and an ornament with a picture of him with a shaving cream Santa beard.  My yellow fro angel, also with a golden noose around her neck, is an all-time favorite, as is the crumbled up aluminum ball with a pipe cleaner hook sticking out of the top.

We have a very classy Christmas tree.  In fact, they both gave me crap about how it wasn't just solid colored balls and plain lights and simple.  Is that the purpose of a Christmas tree?  I always thought it was supposed to be a delightful hodgepodge of ornaments, handmade or not, each with a specific memory attached.  When I look at the tree, I don't look for symmetry or a color scheme...I look at the elf with a cell phone attached to her hand (my sister has one, too) and think of how I miss my sister.  I look at the little chalkboard with my name on it where the boys write whether I have been naughty or nice each year (Newsflash: It's always naughty).  I look at the handmade ornaments from each of our preschool "careers" and laugh at how imperfectly wonderful each of them are.  I look at the rollerblades ornaments made out of stocking material each of the boys got the year they went ice skating for the first time (it was a disaster...which makes their collective desire to play ice hockey all the more entertaining), and remember their faces when they saw my sister and me doing synchronized moves around the rink, totally dry, while their pants were dripping in puddles around them from falling down so much.  I look at the first ornament I ever got, then the first ornament I got as a mom...and I realize THAT is what Christmas is about.  Imperfection.

I am far from perfect.  I put on a great show, trying to pretend I am, but let's face it...I am a mess.  And that's okay.  Because I'm closer to not being a mess than I was when all of this started.  And each day I move forward is another day I move further from the horrible chaos that was once the "norm" and into the beautiful chaos that I have chosen.  And, begrudgingly, they began to hang their ornaments on the tree.  N clustered all of his together, which makes me crazy (and he knows it), so I'm trying not to let it bug me, even though we both know I'll probably go move all the ornaments tomorrow while he's at school.  B started, but didn't finish...so he'll help me finish tomorrow (and probably move the ornaments for me because it'll piss his brother off) when he gets home from school.  And that's about the extent of my decorating.  The stockings are dangling from the mantle (except mine because my stocking hanger is M.I.A.), the peanut Baby Jesus, Mary (with the alien eyes), and Joseph (with the weird beard) are prominently displayed (I think I was five...max...when these were made), and we're just going to keep our holiday cheer on the inside this year.

Speaking of holiday cheer...tonight was B's Christmas musical about the North Pole.  It was cute, but I kept catching my B yawning.  He kept catching someone's eye and smiling and making weird faces, too.  Afterwards, he told me he thought he was rolling his eyes at me, but it turns out it was someone else wearing gray and purple with dark hair and "a white face."  Good times, that B...never a dull moment.  My favorite part was the group of snowmen who sang as they did the Thriller choreography, and then the head snowman moonwalked across the stage.  High quality entertainment, right there.  As we left, we celebrated never having to do that again, unless B decides to be in theater moving forward.  He would be EXCELLENT in theater.  The kid has a natural flair for the dramatic...as he told me SIX hours later that he thought his leg was broken after a kid kicked him in the shin with his basketball shoe.

We ended the performance with Chipotle for them (Blech!) and Mooyah for me...because it was next door.

After B went to bed, N and I watched the last period of the Stars game and co-existed fairly peacefully.  It was a pretty good second day of the week, even if they were all Scrooge-ish about the Christmas tree.  I guess if they want to be Scrooges, then I can be Scrooge-y with the presents, right?

Isn't that how it works?

Aubs

My people

Do you ever feel like you're in some kind of alternate universe?  I don't know what the hell is going on lately, but everything is just...off.

Like tonight: I gave the boys three choices for dinner: leftover stew, leftover spaghetti, or eggs.

And B chose spaghetti.  B hates spaghetti.  I giggled with glee after I asked him at least three times if he was sure.  It's like it was a Christmas miracle!

After I heated the spaghetti and made some vegetables to accompany spaghetti, N asked if it would've been JUST eggs.  I said it clearly would've been accompanied by bacon or turkey bacon, and they both looked at me like I had broken all of the video game consoles in our house (I think there are five...no, six).  I reheated a baked potato, and B asked why that wasn't a choice.  And that, my friends, is how I wound up with half a potato, a leaky dishwasher, and a pile of hand-washed dishes, and a portal that will.not.update.with.my.final.grade.

Tomorrow is B's Christmas program at school.  Check that.  Holiday musical.  Check that again. North Pole Extravaganza.  I have no clue what I'm supposed to call it anymore.  B has already decided that we should go to dinner at a place of his choosing after his outstanding performance which means Chipotle.  Blech.

Remember when you were in high school and THE place to go was Taco Bell?  No?  Was that just me?  I find that hard to believe.  Tripping down memory lane can be a lot of fun, but sometimes it's a lonely journey.  I drag my boys down it with me on occasion, but they just don't get it.

N and I had a rough morning this morning.  He was tired and cranky (it WAS Monday morning, after all), and he took it all out on me.  I slammed the door to the garage when he left and everything.  But that boy of mine sent me a text message around lunch time because he got a 96 on his math test (and the same grade on a quiz), and he was elated.  So was I, for two reasons.  One, my kid did well on a test in a subject that is not our best.  Two, he text me to tell me about it because he was so proud of himself. 

My heart kind of exploded.  Later, I stopped by my big sister's office on the way home from the grocery store and randomly burst into tears.  When I got home, she had reloaded my Starbucks account for me because that's my love language.  And I burst into tears again.

And then I went to the library to get some books to read while I have nothing of any significance going on, and also to meet my B because he was doing homework (read: shenanigating in the library).  While in the library, I ran into my 12th grade English teacher.  Since I've subbed for her, I said hello and we talked for a while...about kids and schedules and life and school and everything.  Y'all, she is so great.  It makes my heart so happy to see someone who's been at this teaching gig for so long and still just loves her students.  At least one other person (that I saw) came up to her at the library to say hello and fill her in on what they'd been doing.  To me, that's the mark of a great teacher.  I only hope one or both of my boys have her someday. 

I've been wavering on what I want to do and how I want to do it, and she just helped in more ways than she will ever know.  And when I got home, my sweet professor sent me a sweet message, reminding me that all things are possible and asking me if I wanted to have lunch tomorrow because she has a better line to my brain and heart than anyone in a long time.  And it just made me realize that I have some really wonderful people in my life, people that I realize I have seriously taken for granted, and it made me realize that I have to change that.

Like...NOW.

Aubs

We're not savages

I had an "Alexander" of a day, for a variety of reasons.  My afternoon included sobbing on the phone to my mother for close to an hour (I think...okay, I just checked and it was 31 minutes, but I bet it felt like hours to her...sorry, Mom!).  Aside from tearing up during a sappy movie or those damn Hallmark commercials, or COUNTLESS  "this is what matters" stories, I cannot even tell you when the last time I flat out sobbed like that.  It was ugly.  It was brutal.  I felt my eyes get smaller and smaller until they were little slits, and that's when the hiccups started.  Hot. Mess.  Emphasis on the "mess," with none of the "hot."

Without assignments keeping my brain busy, I have entirely too much time to think about things I've been avoiding for several weeks.  When I woke up this morning, I even thought to myself, "Self?  You should probably just not aim too high today.  I can tell it's going to be a day."  But what did I do?  I tried to prove myself wrong.  And that was stupid.  So, later on this evening, I was recapping it all (brief-ish-ly) to my sister via text, and started crying all over again.  N asked if I was crying over the Cowboys game, but they were winning (also brief-ish-ly), so I think he was just trying to diffuse the situation.  Bless his heart.

In search of the ultimate comfort food, and since the potato soup recipe I tried yesterday was a complete failure, I scrubbed some potatoes and threw them into the oven.  When they were done, I got a normal plate out of the cabinet and prepared my potato.  N grabbed a paper plate and did the same, then kept shifting uncomfortably as he balanced the plate on his lap while he watched the Cowboys.  I looked at him in disbelief and said, "Use a real plate.  We're not savages!"  He just stared, and since my eyes were still funky from my sobfest, he won the staredown.  This does not usually happen, folks...not with my boys, not when I sub...never.  By the time halftime rolled around, we were done with together time, at least for a while.  He opted for video games while I opted to unplug.

I have a stack of books I have started at various points in my semester when I needed an escape, so I picked up the first one I found tonight...and hit the tub.  Reading about killer whales in the wild vs. killer whales at SeaWorld while in the tub hit a LITTLE too close to home, so that was a short-lived relaxation technique that pretty much did nothing to relax me, so I opted for second best: rainbow fuzzy socks and pjs that creep my kids out.

  

What? You mean you DON'T want me to take you to school if I'm not willing to change my clothes or put on a jacket?  Oh.  That's sad.  (Evil laughs for days)  On a side note, I've had this particular night shirt for years, and there have NEVER been new boys.  I think it's defective.

Or I am.  

I've heard it both ways.

Aubs

Final-ly done with finals

As I sat in the hallway with the classmates that I only seen one other time (at orientation), waiting for my final to begin, an instructor came out in the hallway and asked us to please keep our voices down so her class could finish their finals.  As her students came out, they congregated by the door (that didn’t close all the way) to discuss the exam…loudly.  One person said, “Your teacher has already come out once and told us to be quiet and I’m not going to get in trouble because y’all are being loud.”  They stared at her as she continued, “We don’t want to get in trouble because we aren’t doing anything wrong and she’s going to get mad and we’re going to get blamed so y’all need to be quiet.”

I was not sitting near her, but I’m sure she heard me snort.  Did I miss something?  Did we regress back to the age of 4 without my noticing it? Because I’m pretty sure, as grown ass adults, we aren’t going to “get in trouble” with an instructor who wasn’t even supposed to be administering a test in that classroom at that time to begin with.  It probably would’ve made more sense for the instructor to come out and see it was HER class making all of the noise, but that’s not any of my business.  I am floored by immaturity sometimes.  It comes in all shapes and sizes, but today?  Today was just idiotic.

Meanwhile, I received my final grade for one class, and I’m pretty sure my professor padded that exam a little bit because there is no way I got an 89 on that exam on my own.  Even still, with an 89, I managed to maintain a 98 for the semester, so I guess that’ll do.  One down, one to go!  I should have all grades finalized by Tuesday, and I’m kind of nervous…mostly because I’d just rather know.  You know?

This semester has flown by, and I really found it to be much more manageable than I expected.  I’m not sure what that’ll mean for next semester, but I’m kind of excited about it.  I told N today, “One of my favorite parts of the semester is when I get my textbooks…and my other favorite part of the semester is when I get to send these stupid things back!” as I packed up my textbooks to mail them back to Amazon.  He said I had issues.  I’m pretty sure more than a few people would agree with him.  Hopefully someday, even if it’s not now, he’ll be proud of his mom…even if he does say I do this and get good grades just to set my expectations for him way too high.  Insert all the eye rolls here. 

And a few more, for good measure.  Roll, roll, roll.

I’m not sure what to do with my free time now, but suffice it to say, letting my mind wander is a terrible idea.  Ideas that have been suggested to me include, but are not limited to:

·         Knitting

·         Craft projects

·         Library books

·         DVR

·         Puzzles

·         Shopping

·         Movies

If you know me at all, you know a lot of these are laughable.  I’m not crafty, nor do I knit.  I have a short attention span for puzzles (which is why the border only of a Christmas puzzle remains untouched on my side table), and shopping is one of the biggest beat downs known to man.  I have been so immersed in the wonderful world of educational psychology and literacy that I couldn’t even tell you what movies are in theaters, or which ones I’ve wanted to see and missed.  I’ve made a serious dent in the DVR, thanks to my mad procrastination skills, and the new library is awesome.

And in that one paragraph, I just realized how much of a nerd I am.  Awesome.

After my final this morning, I met the baseball team Nana for coffee on my way home.  We see each other all the time at the ballfields, and we tag-team on making sure the boys and coaches have all.the.snacks, but we don’t really ever get a chance to sit down and talk.  It was nice to spend an hour just talking about things that were not baseball.

Yeah, I said it.  Every once in a while, I can NOT talk about baseball, even though it feels a little foreign.  ALTHOUGH…now that I opened the door on that one, can I just say how much I’ve LOVED watching Encarnacion and Bautista realize that they’ve decided their own self-worth is too high and all of the clubs who claimed to have interest in either have them have pretty much dropped out of the “race” to acquire them?  It makes me cackle.  I am SO glad Fowler ended up with St. Louis, even though it still makes me cringe a little to say that.  I can’t wait for Spring Training. 

Sports are so great.  Bowl games will be here before we know it, and then the SuperBowl, and all.the.hockey.games…and then (insert angels singing here) BASEBALL.  Needless to say, I’ll probably have to be committed if N ever decides he’s over it.  I can’t wait for B to pick a sport that he really loves. 

N had his first hitting lesson since the end of September today.  He got his cast off the week of Thanksgiving break, but weather and conflicts pushed his first lesson back until today.  I am super proud to report that he went 95/95, and at least 70 of those pitches were an improvement from before he got injured.  I think he was worried he would suck, so it was awesome to see him back in the cages and making contact every single time.  He got really tired, but that happens after you  spend over two months being a bump on a log.  His coach, probably one of the nicest people I’ve ever known, was really pleased with his progress…and also hyped up on peppermint hot chocolate.  I text him to see if he wanted one (his favorite, any time of the year) since he had been out there for hours, and he said he would love one.  When we got there, hot chocolate in hand, I noticed THREE other Starbucks cups in the cages.  Mine was the fourth of the day.  Y’all, no wonder he hugged me animatedly and told me how proud he was of me for finishing up my semester.  I’m still laughing.

Since I got home this afternoon, I did some (more) laundry, tried a new potato soup recipe (NOT a fan…blech!), and took over the living room to binge watch all of the episodes of Conviction that I swore I would watch as soon as I finished my semester.  N is hanging with his dad, so it’s just me.  And it’s times like these where I kind of wish it wasn’t just me, but that’s the way it is…at least for now. 

It’s been 7ish years since it wasn’t “just me,” but maybe that’s getting old.  Finally.  Maybe. 

Aubs

One down, one to go

At the risk of sounding like a total sloth, let me preface this next sentence by saying that I haven’t slept well in weeks because my brain NEVER shuts off.  I crawled back into my nest of purple flannel sheets after N left for school this morning (on his bike with hand warmers in his gloves and toe warmers stuck to his socks) and didn’t get up until after noon.  I guess I needed it.  At one point, the district I sub for (apparently) called me to see if I could go in for a teacher.  It’s an automated system, but when I attempted to silence it (in my sleep, mind you), I apparently opted to send a text message: “Can I call you later?”  It was sent successfully, in case you were wondering.  Speaking of this automated system, I got a call for a two day job next week, from 12-4 both days.  I took it, then immediately received a cancellation.  The only thing I can think of is that the schools get out by 1:00, so why would they need me to hang out for an additional 3 hours?  It’s not a big deal…I would love to do it, but I’m so looking forward to having some mental downtime after my last final tomorrow.

Did you like that?  How I said I’d have “mental downtime” when I finish my finals?  Yeah, I thought it was funny, too.  Seriously, though, I found out I had access to one of them tonight, so I decided I would take it.  I was pretty sure I was ready for it.  I was wrong.  It was one of the hardest tests I’ve taken, and I’ve taken an awful lot of them lately.  The questions were obscure and the possible answers were mostly not quite right.  There were some short answer questions, which are always my forte, but…I honestly don’t know how I did.  I mean, I had 339/339 points going into the final, so I feel like I’ll be okay, but who really knows at this point.

Besides doing a few loads of laundry, conversing with my neighbor about the holiday season break-ins (nothing says “Christmas spirit” like someone stealing your stuff…not my stuff, for the record, but there’s always a chance), and briefly speaking with my oldest child, I have been a hermit.  I even mobile ordered a Snickerdoodle Hot Chocolate from Starbucks so I didn’t have to talk to anyone.  It’s not like it worked, though, because I still managed to ask the barista approximately 8 questions in the 90 seconds I was in the store.  I know.  You’re shocked.

So, tomorrow, I get to drive to Denton to take a final.  And then I don’t have to drive to Denton again until early January because I get to take another class with this professor and she’s not local (from Little Rock, I believe), so she requires her students to come in for orientation and then return for the final.  I guess it wouldn’t be so rough if I lived in Denton, and really…it’s not that big of a deal to go to Denton, except…I-35.  I’d rather be on the road to Houston any day of the week.  At least there’s movement!

Speaking of Houston, I feel like going.  I’m not sure why, but I just feel like I should.  Or somewhere else.  Just not here.  I need an Aubs time out.

Not because I’ve been bad (although that’s always a possibility), but because I just need a break.  From everything.  Especially people.

So. Many. People.

Aubs

Firewood, not bread crumbs

I've been brunette for quite some time, although every once in a while I'll go blonde in the summer...or get highlights at the very least.  But tonight, y'all?  I had the biggest blonde moment I've had in a while, with the exception of yesterday when a friend and I were talking about Colin Firth being in a movie as a young adult, and then she said, "And, yep! There he was!" while looking out the glass door, so I turned around to see Colin Firth, who was (obviously) not there.

But I digress.

I made a pretty fantastic beef stew for dinner since temperatures are absolutely FRIGID around here.  We're talking wind chills in the 20s and TEENS, and nothing makes me happier because it's the perfect cuddle weather.  We won't talk about how I lack the cuddle aspect in life, but for all of you who DO have someone to cuddle, this one's for you.  Anyway, beef stew.  Right.  Focus.  I made this fantastic beef stew (without using wine because the boys can tell and think it's gross because they are not smart enough to know how great it is to use wine to cook and drink all at the same time) and decided to pop a few rolls from the freezer into the oven to sop up the sauce.  Stew sauce, not wine-sauce...just so we're clear.  Anyway, N and I ate our stew in front of the fireplace while I watched an episode of Code Black and he made comments every 13 seconds and I threatened him within an inch of his life.  And once I was done with both stew and episode, I went back to my room to continue this behemoth of a paper due tomorrow.  I looked down at the cuff of my shirt and saw a breadcrumb that obviously landed there while I was juggling two bowls and plates, so I absentmindedly popped it into my mouth.

IT WAS A SLIVER OF FIREWOOD.

I tried to spit it out, and it wouldn't come out of  my mouth.  So I spit a little more forcefully, and it came out and got stuck on my lip.  That's about when I started yelling movie words (at my lip and the wood/breadcrumb), and suddenly felt a jabbing pain on the tip of my tongue.  You guessed it...splinter.  I swear...only me.

You'll be pleased to know that I removed the splinter and the "woodcrumb," but instead of going back to my paper, I decided to blog about it because I have my priorities straight.  Besides, my blonde moments are way more interesting than this paper I have to write.  The construction of this paper is making me realize I am not even close to ready for this final.  Saturday should be fun!

Honestly, this paper has been a great distraction since I have been entirely too engrossed in my imagination these days.  In fact, it's pretty much a dream crusher, so anytime I feel the need for a harsh dose of reality, I just ask myself how my paper is coming along. 

It was so cold this morning that I opted to drive N to school.  When I got back home, I found that my flannel sheets were still warm, so I crawled back into bed to brainstorm about what topic I would tackle next in my paper, but instead I decided falling asleep and having a weird "normal, every day life," dream about what would (later) happen in real life was a better idea.  I dreamt about going to Starbucks and getting coffee that I ended up not drinking, then delivering a hot chocolate and stamps to a friend who is collecting them.  The parts my dream left out: driving to her house, only to find she wasn't home, texting her to find out she was a few miles down the road, then heading that direction while text-yelling, DON'T GO ANYWHERE.  I'M TRYYYYYYYING TO BRING YOU HOT CHOCOLATE!"  So, basically, I used my psychotic tendencies to the best of my ability (not the first time this week) to meet her in the parking lot, where she waited for me because she gets it, so I could give her hot chocolate and a hug because she needed one.  Because that's what friends (and baseball moms) are for.

Aubs

(**Edited to add: Approximately four hours later, I finished my paper.  Is it what she wants?  I have no idea.  Did I go into too much detail?  Probably.  Do I care?  Not really.)