I've never understood why Valentine's Day is such a big deal. If you're in a committed relationship of any kind, shouldn't you be showing your significant other how much you care each day, and not just one day out of the year? Maybe it's just me, but I think being open and affectionate with your significant other "just because" is way more romantic than a commercialized holiday.
But, hey, what do I know? Some people probably think this is coming from someone who is bitter, cynical, and single...and they'd be right about the single part. Everything else is just ridiculous. I've never put a lot of stock into Valentine's Day, and I never will. I give my kids gifts, but that's where I draw the line.
Unless I make heart-shaped muffins, but that's out right now as B can't have dairy for the next 2-3 months. Why? Because life isn't enough of a challenge, that's why.
Today has been crazy busy, as most Thursdays are. I tend to leave writing assignments until the last minute, not because I procrastinate, but because I do my best work when I know a deadline is on the horizon. For one of my classes, the deadline is a random 1:30 p.m. on Friday afternoons, which wouldn't be a big deal except I'm in class until 12:10 on Fridays. By the time I get home, I have maybe 10 minutes to proofread an assignment and make my deadline. SO, I make Thursdays my deadline instead, obviously because I'm an over-achiever who likes to turn in work ahead of schedule.
Or not. Anyway, this morning, I made a list, and scribbled across items as I finished them. Between the hours of 7:00 and 9:30 this morning, I took a test, wrote a discussion board, responded to three discussion boards, wrote 4 mini-papers, and then did another round of discussion boards for another class. I feel that it was an entirely productive morning.
I have to admit, however, that the day kind of snuck up on me this year, and I was not prepared to give my two little Valentines anything this morning. They didn't ask, even though they're used to coming to the table in the morning (on any holiday) and having something waiting for them, and for that, I am grateful. After I finished my schoolwork and showered, I took off to make it right. I'm phasing out the plastic cups in our house. When the youngest member of the household is 7, I feel like glasses are good for everyday use. Yeah, every now and then, one will break, but that's why you have extras. Long story short, we need to use real cups.
Obviously, this is why my boys got super-cute, striped Tervis tumblers with lids for Valentine's Day. I tend to steer clear of candy in general, but especially on "candy" holidays, so they got cups...and N got a new pair of Nike Elites, while B got new batting gloves. And, let me just tell you, they were thrilled! I don't even know (or care, really) if they said, "Thank you!" because N was too busy figuring out if he had any clothes to match his socks (He really IS mine, y'all!) and B was calling himself "Penguin hands" as he ran around in his batting gloves. I don't have any insight into that one, aside from the fact that they're studying penguins in his class. This morning he told me there were 17 different species of penguins, named 5, and then said, "That's enough, Mom. I want you to be able to have something to Google later."
My boys. They're so giving.
After I set up their surprises, it was time to go to B's party. He invited me, while N told me I didn't have to come, which basically means he would rather die than have me show up. While I was at B's party, the room mom set them up playing the most confusing game of BINGO I've ever seen. It was awful. I'm pretty sure that one of the moms (or maybe it was B's teacher) walked past me, mumbling about how it was a disaster. After she left to go to her other child's classroom, B's teacher had me read a story to the kids with their names in it. Each time I said a name, the kid had to read what was on the conversation heart on their desk. It was super cute, and totally hilarious! After it was over, B's teacher approached me and said, "Will you please be my room mom?"
So, I am. For the rest of the year, I am 1B's room mom. When the current room mom sent out an email saying she was moving at the end of February and asked if anyone would be willing to take over her duties, I'm not really sure why she just didn't send it to me. I'm a pretty permanent fixture around there. All the kids know me, and yet, they still ask my name each time I visit, then how to spell it, and when I spell out my name and then spell out "it," they groan and ask how I knew.
Because doing it at least once a week since the beginning of the school year doesn't establish a pattern or anything, right?
We went to the ball fields today to practice for tryouts on Saturday. I think we're hitting the batting cages tomorrow, and then Saturday afternoon are tryouts. My sister's coming into town, so I'm hoping to be able to snag some time with her...
And next weekend? Well...next weekend, I'm headed to Houston to see my dad. I haven't seen him since December, and that's the longest I've gone without seeing him in a year...easily. I can't wait.
I also can't wait to get to class tomorrow to talk about current events, because I'm still irritated...
Who thought that kind of sentence would ever come from me?
Yeah, me either...
Aubs
Friday, February 15, 2013
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
I have a stalker...her name is Erin.
So, last night, I caught the end of the State of the Union Address, and I didn't want to "taint" last night's post with my thoughts, simply because I feel that Chris Kyle deserved his own post...he deserved that kind of recognition because he was, and is, a true American hero.
It should be said, now, before anyone gets all pissy, that I have always voted Republican. It is not to say that I wouldn't vote for a Democrat if I felt he/she was a better candidate for the job, but I have not been of voting age to vote for a Democrat that I felt was a better candidate for the job...if that tells you anything.
To be fair, I didn't watch the entire thing. I don't know if you know this about me, but I do have children, and to be able to watch anything without interruption only occurs when they're asleep or gone for the weekend. Read: It does NOT happen during prime time television hours. I turned it on right around the time that Obama started talking about gun control. Besides, spending and budget cuts are all pretty much a foreign language to me. All I know is Obama's genius plan ended up cutting my grant money for school, and I'm pretty sure we'll be in ridiculous amounts of debt until the end of the world...I just haven't checked in with the Mayans to see when the new "end date" is.
I knew, from watching the news and reading articles, that there were supposed to be several special guests at the State of the Union Address last night, specifically those who were victims of gun violence. It had been reported that a child from Newtown was supposed to be attending with her mother, but that they wouldn't be in the chamber for the address, and, instead, would watch it from an alternate location. To me, that kind of negates the whole point of being there, but at the same time, having a younger child sit through a State of the Union Address? I'm a grown-up, and I can't deal with watching the whole thing... I knew that the Pendleton's would be there; their daughter died a week or so after singing at the President's second inauguration, and there they were, front and center next to Michelle Obama.
Here's where I got a little annoyed, and maybe it was just me and my emotions, but I know it wasn't. Obama started talking about gun control, and he briefly mentioned Newtown, Connecticut. THEN, he started talking about the Pendleton family, and went into detail after detail...including how the girl was shot in a park near his home in Chicago. He briefly mentioned Gabby Giffords, and several cities throughout the nation that have had large numbers of victims due gun violence. Never did he even mention Chris Kyle. Not one word. He didn't mention that the man who saved countless others with his sharpshooting skills was killed in a heinous act of gun violence at a shooting range where he was trying to help someone. He didn't mention that the man, who was a hero, father, husband, son, friend, brother, soldier, and probably a dozen other things, was buried that day. On the same day as the State of the Union.
He just kept repeating, "They deserve a vote." sounding like a damn myna bird. It really pissed me off...not just because he didn't mention Chris Kyle, but because he only mentioned the Pendleton family by name, and gave details...about the Pendleton family. For this "great" leader who constantly claims the race card (I find it to despicable when people play the race card) is being played against him to ONLY mention an African American victim by name, while the cameras were trained on her parents and Michelle Obama (smiling away), is the true definition of a hypocrite. I'm pretty sure there's a whole "rainbow" of victims out there; (I'd like to think, ideally speaking) gone are the times where only one certain race, creed, or religion is targeted...gone are the days of racial profiling...or at least, I'd like to think so. Gunmen simply don't seem to care what color their victims are or what gender or religion...It's all about the body count.
If it were only that, that would be one thing...but then he started talking about voter participation, too. Enter the 102 year old black woman, sitting in the chamber, while Obama talks about how she waited for hours in Florida to vote, because she wanted her vote to be counted. She got a standing ovation. Granted, she's extremely old, and the fact that she has her wits about her enough to vote is truly awesome, but what about the other people who waited for hours on end, here in north Texas, long after the polls closed, waiting to make their voices heard? I highly doubt that it only happened here...where was the acknowledgement for the rest of the nation who did show up to vote? Do we not count because we're not that old, or is it the whole race card at work again? I don't know, but what I do know is this: I am not appreciative of a leader who claims that bigotry is one of the biggest obstacles a black man/woman can face, but is quick to use the race card if it benefits him. I am not appreciative of him singling out one particular victim of gun violence when there are so many recent victims.
Another thing...did you see those green ribbons for Newton? Remember how the nation, maybe even the world, donned green to show our support to the residents of Newtown? Wasn't it awesome that the gesture continued at the State of the Union? Oh, that's right...it didn't. Green ribbons are apparently not for Newtown anymore. They're the "blanket" ribbon color for gun violence.
I was appreciative of Marco Rubio's passion as he talked about what he thinks we need to do as a nation. I think it's dumb that people immediately started dismissing any of the ideas he was suggesting when he reached for a bottle of water, looking a little crazed. I do, however, give him serious credit for making light of it, calling it his own "Watergate" scandal. Ba dum bum. He and his party have good ideas. Obama should listen. Although I'm not really into politics, I will be interested to see who becomes the front runners for each party as the next election gets closer. I realize I still have quite a while before that happens, but I like to look forward to positive change instead of the craphole I feel like we're stuck in for another 4 years.
Okay, I'm stepping off my soapbox now. I've always been a bit of leader, and very rarely a follower. It is something I hope my kids learn from me. In fact, on the way home from the doctor's office today, I was telling N, "I hope, as you grow up, you take some valuable lessons from my choices in life. I hope you grow to be a strong, independent man, but I hope with all of my heart that you don't become prideful, and that you're always able to swallow your pride and ask for help if you need it. Don't be stubborn and try to do it all yourself, like I do. Real men, real women? They know how to ask for help, so they don't drown. If you learn nothing else from me, I hope you learn that lesson." His response? "Can I play my iPod?" Sigh...
Speaking of followers, I was talking to my friend Erin today, and I mentioned something about being "Aubrey, party of one!" for the rest of my life, and she might've paid me the best compliment ever. She said, "Yes I creepily feel like I stalk your life because I added your blog to my google reader, lol." She's my stalker. I have a stalker...and since I actually know her, that doesn't creep me out in the slightest.
So, now I know...I for sure have at least one follower! (She also gave me permission to quote her, hahaha!) She also asked me to document me wearing N's baseball cleats, since I'm trying to help him break them in, so look for that...maybe tomorrow.
You know, because my 10 year old and I wear the same size shoe...
Oh! I got another variety pack of K-cups today. Out of 35, 11 of them are the supa-dark, gajillion-bold, gag-inducing blends that I hate. I also got a fair number of decaf. The variety packs from Amazon are so fun!
It's like Forrest Gump says about chocolates...
You never know what you're gonna get!
Aubs
It should be said, now, before anyone gets all pissy, that I have always voted Republican. It is not to say that I wouldn't vote for a Democrat if I felt he/she was a better candidate for the job, but I have not been of voting age to vote for a Democrat that I felt was a better candidate for the job...if that tells you anything.
To be fair, I didn't watch the entire thing. I don't know if you know this about me, but I do have children, and to be able to watch anything without interruption only occurs when they're asleep or gone for the weekend. Read: It does NOT happen during prime time television hours. I turned it on right around the time that Obama started talking about gun control. Besides, spending and budget cuts are all pretty much a foreign language to me. All I know is Obama's genius plan ended up cutting my grant money for school, and I'm pretty sure we'll be in ridiculous amounts of debt until the end of the world...I just haven't checked in with the Mayans to see when the new "end date" is.
I knew, from watching the news and reading articles, that there were supposed to be several special guests at the State of the Union Address last night, specifically those who were victims of gun violence. It had been reported that a child from Newtown was supposed to be attending with her mother, but that they wouldn't be in the chamber for the address, and, instead, would watch it from an alternate location. To me, that kind of negates the whole point of being there, but at the same time, having a younger child sit through a State of the Union Address? I'm a grown-up, and I can't deal with watching the whole thing... I knew that the Pendleton's would be there; their daughter died a week or so after singing at the President's second inauguration, and there they were, front and center next to Michelle Obama.
Here's where I got a little annoyed, and maybe it was just me and my emotions, but I know it wasn't. Obama started talking about gun control, and he briefly mentioned Newtown, Connecticut. THEN, he started talking about the Pendleton family, and went into detail after detail...including how the girl was shot in a park near his home in Chicago. He briefly mentioned Gabby Giffords, and several cities throughout the nation that have had large numbers of victims due gun violence. Never did he even mention Chris Kyle. Not one word. He didn't mention that the man who saved countless others with his sharpshooting skills was killed in a heinous act of gun violence at a shooting range where he was trying to help someone. He didn't mention that the man, who was a hero, father, husband, son, friend, brother, soldier, and probably a dozen other things, was buried that day. On the same day as the State of the Union.
He just kept repeating, "They deserve a vote." sounding like a damn myna bird. It really pissed me off...not just because he didn't mention Chris Kyle, but because he only mentioned the Pendleton family by name, and gave details...about the Pendleton family. For this "great" leader who constantly claims the race card (I find it to despicable when people play the race card) is being played against him to ONLY mention an African American victim by name, while the cameras were trained on her parents and Michelle Obama (smiling away), is the true definition of a hypocrite. I'm pretty sure there's a whole "rainbow" of victims out there; (I'd like to think, ideally speaking) gone are the times where only one certain race, creed, or religion is targeted...gone are the days of racial profiling...or at least, I'd like to think so. Gunmen simply don't seem to care what color their victims are or what gender or religion...It's all about the body count.
If it were only that, that would be one thing...but then he started talking about voter participation, too. Enter the 102 year old black woman, sitting in the chamber, while Obama talks about how she waited for hours in Florida to vote, because she wanted her vote to be counted. She got a standing ovation. Granted, she's extremely old, and the fact that she has her wits about her enough to vote is truly awesome, but what about the other people who waited for hours on end, here in north Texas, long after the polls closed, waiting to make their voices heard? I highly doubt that it only happened here...where was the acknowledgement for the rest of the nation who did show up to vote? Do we not count because we're not that old, or is it the whole race card at work again? I don't know, but what I do know is this: I am not appreciative of a leader who claims that bigotry is one of the biggest obstacles a black man/woman can face, but is quick to use the race card if it benefits him. I am not appreciative of him singling out one particular victim of gun violence when there are so many recent victims.
Another thing...did you see those green ribbons for Newton? Remember how the nation, maybe even the world, donned green to show our support to the residents of Newtown? Wasn't it awesome that the gesture continued at the State of the Union? Oh, that's right...it didn't. Green ribbons are apparently not for Newtown anymore. They're the "blanket" ribbon color for gun violence.
I was appreciative of Marco Rubio's passion as he talked about what he thinks we need to do as a nation. I think it's dumb that people immediately started dismissing any of the ideas he was suggesting when he reached for a bottle of water, looking a little crazed. I do, however, give him serious credit for making light of it, calling it his own "Watergate" scandal. Ba dum bum. He and his party have good ideas. Obama should listen. Although I'm not really into politics, I will be interested to see who becomes the front runners for each party as the next election gets closer. I realize I still have quite a while before that happens, but I like to look forward to positive change instead of the craphole I feel like we're stuck in for another 4 years.
Okay, I'm stepping off my soapbox now. I've always been a bit of leader, and very rarely a follower. It is something I hope my kids learn from me. In fact, on the way home from the doctor's office today, I was telling N, "I hope, as you grow up, you take some valuable lessons from my choices in life. I hope you grow to be a strong, independent man, but I hope with all of my heart that you don't become prideful, and that you're always able to swallow your pride and ask for help if you need it. Don't be stubborn and try to do it all yourself, like I do. Real men, real women? They know how to ask for help, so they don't drown. If you learn nothing else from me, I hope you learn that lesson." His response? "Can I play my iPod?" Sigh...
Speaking of followers, I was talking to my friend Erin today, and I mentioned something about being "Aubrey, party of one!" for the rest of my life, and she might've paid me the best compliment ever. She said, "Yes I creepily feel like I stalk your life because I added your blog to my google reader, lol." She's my stalker. I have a stalker...and since I actually know her, that doesn't creep me out in the slightest.
So, now I know...I for sure have at least one follower! (She also gave me permission to quote her, hahaha!) She also asked me to document me wearing N's baseball cleats, since I'm trying to help him break them in, so look for that...maybe tomorrow.
You know, because my 10 year old and I wear the same size shoe...
Oh! I got another variety pack of K-cups today. Out of 35, 11 of them are the supa-dark, gajillion-bold, gag-inducing blends that I hate. I also got a fair number of decaf. The variety packs from Amazon are so fun!
It's like Forrest Gump says about chocolates...
You never know what you're gonna get!
Aubs
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
I've never been prouder to be a Texan
Last summer, right around the 4th of July, the pastor of the church I attend had a weekend dedicated to fallen heroes in our armed forces, and had a true blue American hero as his guest speaker. His name was Chris Kyle. Ever heard of him? This man fought for the right to fight for his country, and once he started, he served four tours in hostile territory. He is considered to be the most lethal sniper in American history, with at least 160 confirmed kills, and potentially hundreds more. I was able to find his interview with Ed Young on youtube (Chris Kyle & Ed Young), and if you have an extra 40 minutes lying around (or even if you don't), I really think it's worth it to watch. Both of my boys went to "big church" for this sermon, and for weeks, N talked about how cool it was to be in the same room as a real hero. He is extremely candid with his life experiences in this interview, and I even downloaded his book on my Kindle, but have yet to read it. I will now. The deadliest sniper in American history...think about how many lives he saved. Think about how much evil he has removed from this world.
He not only removed evil, but he tried to help those who were suffering from PTSD, and that's exactly what he and a friend were trying to do when they both lost their lives. They were at a gun range with a fellow former soldier, and were shot to death before the killer fled in Chris Kyle's pickup truck. The shooter's sister called 911 and turned him in. What another brave individual.
His funeral was yesterday, held at Cowboys stadium due to the number of people who wanted to come show their respect for this fallen hero. The coverage of his wife's touching eulogy: her words of comfort to her children, her words to her husband that she never got to say while he was here on this earth, had me in tears. The eulogies given by two of his best friends growing up were equally touching, while giving those listening a glimpse of their friend's mischievous side. The number of his brothers and sisters who showed up to honor their fallen brother...well, military funerals (anything military, really) move me to tears in no time.
But what really got me was the amazing outpouring of love and support of all the people in our great state. Kyle and his family live in Midlothian, just south of the DFW metroplex, and he was buried in Austin at the Texas State Cemetery. Dozens of police officers, members of the patriot guard, and friends and family of this fallen hero became part of what might be the longest funeral procession in American history, as friends and family boarded charter buses to take them the 200 miles to his final resting place in Austin. That, in and of itself, is touching...
When I turned on the television this morning, I (like so many others, I'm sure) became glued to the screen as tears poured down my face. From Midlothian all the way to Austin, there were people...people lined up on the sides of the highway in the rain, hands over hearts, holding signs, and crying as this massive funeral procession passed. Overpasses were seas of people, holding flags, saluting, and showing their respect for a real hero. I have never seen anything like this in my life. Even now, I'm tearing up...because hundreds and hundreds of people are lined up to honor this man who was killed for what? God, this man is a hero! Not only did he serve our country proudly, without regard of his own life, but he died trying to help someone else through the aftermath of serving our great country in hostile territory...PTSD is real. There is entirely too much of this happening in our country.
I freaking hate it..
Several of the reporters who were standing alongside the road as the funeral procession passed were unable to speak without their voices wavering, breaking, or even sobs slipping out as they tried to explain how emotional it was out there. The vast majority of these supporters are just like me. They don't know Chris Kyle personally or his family. In fact, a lot of people have never heard of him...and some may not care. That's their prerogative.
But so many people do care. And it's obvious...you can tell when they take the time to go stand on the side of the road in the cold and rain, when they bring their children to honor a man they don't know because he's what a real hero is, and when they show up in droves like they did today, how can you not feel a sense of pride in our country? His wife, riding in the passenger seat of the hearse carrying her husband's body, so she could spend as much time with him as possible before he was laid to rest, rolled down the window in the rain and saluted her family's supporters...over and over and over again during the 200 mile trip. How can you not be proud and amazed at the strength this woman has?
I don't understand why people have to start badmouthing the dead. Regardless of your personal opinions of the man or of his profession, he died. Unnecessarily. He was trying to help, to help a man get some resemblance of his former life back. Yes, he was a killer for a living, but by being a killer, he saved hundreds of innocent lives. Hundreds of soldiers' lives. But he wasn't just a killer. He was an advocate for those who needed a voice, a voice they couldn't come up with on their own. He helped families of fallen soldiers. He loved God. He loved his family. He wasn't shy about admitting either of those. And he was a hero. A real hero. Gun violence has to stop.
I've always been proud to be a Texan, but today, I was a little bit prouder. Yes, I've been an emotional mess all day long, but you know what? I live in the greatest state in our nation: the state that stops in its tracks to honor someone who served our country with honor and pride. I'm proud of where I live, and I would never live anywhere else. Everything is bigger and better in Texas.
That goes for heart, honor, and pride, too.
Aubs
He not only removed evil, but he tried to help those who were suffering from PTSD, and that's exactly what he and a friend were trying to do when they both lost their lives. They were at a gun range with a fellow former soldier, and were shot to death before the killer fled in Chris Kyle's pickup truck. The shooter's sister called 911 and turned him in. What another brave individual.
His funeral was yesterday, held at Cowboys stadium due to the number of people who wanted to come show their respect for this fallen hero. The coverage of his wife's touching eulogy: her words of comfort to her children, her words to her husband that she never got to say while he was here on this earth, had me in tears. The eulogies given by two of his best friends growing up were equally touching, while giving those listening a glimpse of their friend's mischievous side. The number of his brothers and sisters who showed up to honor their fallen brother...well, military funerals (anything military, really) move me to tears in no time.
But what really got me was the amazing outpouring of love and support of all the people in our great state. Kyle and his family live in Midlothian, just south of the DFW metroplex, and he was buried in Austin at the Texas State Cemetery. Dozens of police officers, members of the patriot guard, and friends and family of this fallen hero became part of what might be the longest funeral procession in American history, as friends and family boarded charter buses to take them the 200 miles to his final resting place in Austin. That, in and of itself, is touching...
When I turned on the television this morning, I (like so many others, I'm sure) became glued to the screen as tears poured down my face. From Midlothian all the way to Austin, there were people...people lined up on the sides of the highway in the rain, hands over hearts, holding signs, and crying as this massive funeral procession passed. Overpasses were seas of people, holding flags, saluting, and showing their respect for a real hero. I have never seen anything like this in my life. Even now, I'm tearing up...because hundreds and hundreds of people are lined up to honor this man who was killed for what? God, this man is a hero! Not only did he serve our country proudly, without regard of his own life, but he died trying to help someone else through the aftermath of serving our great country in hostile territory...PTSD is real. There is entirely too much of this happening in our country.
I freaking hate it..
Several of the reporters who were standing alongside the road as the funeral procession passed were unable to speak without their voices wavering, breaking, or even sobs slipping out as they tried to explain how emotional it was out there. The vast majority of these supporters are just like me. They don't know Chris Kyle personally or his family. In fact, a lot of people have never heard of him...and some may not care. That's their prerogative.
But so many people do care. And it's obvious...you can tell when they take the time to go stand on the side of the road in the cold and rain, when they bring their children to honor a man they don't know because he's what a real hero is, and when they show up in droves like they did today, how can you not feel a sense of pride in our country? His wife, riding in the passenger seat of the hearse carrying her husband's body, so she could spend as much time with him as possible before he was laid to rest, rolled down the window in the rain and saluted her family's supporters...over and over and over again during the 200 mile trip. How can you not be proud and amazed at the strength this woman has?
I don't understand why people have to start badmouthing the dead. Regardless of your personal opinions of the man or of his profession, he died. Unnecessarily. He was trying to help, to help a man get some resemblance of his former life back. Yes, he was a killer for a living, but by being a killer, he saved hundreds of innocent lives. Hundreds of soldiers' lives. But he wasn't just a killer. He was an advocate for those who needed a voice, a voice they couldn't come up with on their own. He helped families of fallen soldiers. He loved God. He loved his family. He wasn't shy about admitting either of those. And he was a hero. A real hero. Gun violence has to stop.
I've always been proud to be a Texan, but today, I was a little bit prouder. Yes, I've been an emotional mess all day long, but you know what? I live in the greatest state in our nation: the state that stops in its tracks to honor someone who served our country with honor and pride. I'm proud of where I live, and I would never live anywhere else. Everything is bigger and better in Texas.
That goes for heart, honor, and pride, too.
Aubs
Monday, February 11, 2013
I'm expensive...
That can be taken so many different ways, but I'd like to say (for the record) that I don't try to be expensive on purpose.
I have kids. They need stuff...a lot of stuff. They play sports. They need stuff for sports. They grow...too fast. And then they need more stuff when they outgrow the stuff they just got. Last week sometimes.
Baseball "tryouts" are on Saturday, and neither kid had cleats that fit, so when they got home from school today, we went off in search of a good deal on cleats.
We found some, and grabbed them super speedy quick: Having N's size in youth is typically unheard of, so I wasn't about to let those slip away. Side note: If you ever need me to play baseball or softball, I can wear N's cleats. Easily. We're the same size. We're fancy. Also, I'd never wear his shoes...unless they were new or didn't require my feet being fully enclosed. He has stinky boy feet. Ew. Gross.
After that, we went to Sports Authority. See, I'm typically a glutton for comparison shopping AFTER I've made a purchase, so we had to go to two other stores, just so I could be sure that I spent a fair amount. While at Sports Authority, I realized B would need a cup, and just as I was thinking it in my head, N noticed the rack of sliders/cups, and said, "Mom, I'm pretty sure my sliders are too small. They cut off my circulation."
So, sliders and cups for all. Well, for two because, thankfully, I'm not a part of that club.
My friend Angela messaged me saying she has a pair of cleats that might fit B, so that would be super helpful. As far as I know, I'm flying solo on gear for B, and it doesn't come cheap, but he is so excited about being able to play...it's so adorable to hear him chatter excitedly to his brother in the backseat:
B: Will you still play with me? I mean, like, will you help me on my drills and stuff before your practice or before mine or on days where neither of us have practice?
N: I guess so...
Me: B, you have to work really hard not to embarrass your brother. No hanging all over him and saying stuff that you know embarrasses him....
N: YEAH!
Me: And you, big brother, need to chill out a little bit. He's your brother, and he's going to embarrass you on accident sometimes, and you need to be able to just let it go. If he does it constantly, that's one thing, but sometimes people forget...
B: YEAH!
Me: And you BOTH need to stop driving me crazy. Okay, then.
The first store was mostly fine...the second made me wish I had vodka in my purse instead of water, and the third made me wish I had a hat with a straw.
Not that I'm, by any means, an alcoholic. I rarely drink. Most of the time, I say it would be a great idea, and then I get sidetracked or redirected until I'm past the point of thinking it's vital to my daily life. Aside from a glass of sangria or something similar on occasion, I really don't drink.
I know. The girl behind the mask isn't nearly as interesting...and yet, she's still expensive.
Or maybe it's just her kids.
Aubs
I have kids. They need stuff...a lot of stuff. They play sports. They need stuff for sports. They grow...too fast. And then they need more stuff when they outgrow the stuff they just got. Last week sometimes.
Baseball "tryouts" are on Saturday, and neither kid had cleats that fit, so when they got home from school today, we went off in search of a good deal on cleats.
We found some, and grabbed them super speedy quick: Having N's size in youth is typically unheard of, so I wasn't about to let those slip away. Side note: If you ever need me to play baseball or softball, I can wear N's cleats. Easily. We're the same size. We're fancy. Also, I'd never wear his shoes...unless they were new or didn't require my feet being fully enclosed. He has stinky boy feet. Ew. Gross.
After that, we went to Sports Authority. See, I'm typically a glutton for comparison shopping AFTER I've made a purchase, so we had to go to two other stores, just so I could be sure that I spent a fair amount. While at Sports Authority, I realized B would need a cup, and just as I was thinking it in my head, N noticed the rack of sliders/cups, and said, "Mom, I'm pretty sure my sliders are too small. They cut off my circulation."
So, sliders and cups for all. Well, for two because, thankfully, I'm not a part of that club.
My friend Angela messaged me saying she has a pair of cleats that might fit B, so that would be super helpful. As far as I know, I'm flying solo on gear for B, and it doesn't come cheap, but he is so excited about being able to play...it's so adorable to hear him chatter excitedly to his brother in the backseat:
B: Will you still play with me? I mean, like, will you help me on my drills and stuff before your practice or before mine or on days where neither of us have practice?
N: I guess so...
Me: B, you have to work really hard not to embarrass your brother. No hanging all over him and saying stuff that you know embarrasses him....
N: YEAH!
Me: And you, big brother, need to chill out a little bit. He's your brother, and he's going to embarrass you on accident sometimes, and you need to be able to just let it go. If he does it constantly, that's one thing, but sometimes people forget...
B: YEAH!
Me: And you BOTH need to stop driving me crazy. Okay, then.
The first store was mostly fine...the second made me wish I had vodka in my purse instead of water, and the third made me wish I had a hat with a straw.
Not that I'm, by any means, an alcoholic. I rarely drink. Most of the time, I say it would be a great idea, and then I get sidetracked or redirected until I'm past the point of thinking it's vital to my daily life. Aside from a glass of sangria or something similar on occasion, I really don't drink.
I know. The girl behind the mask isn't nearly as interesting...and yet, she's still expensive.
Or maybe it's just her kids.
Aubs
Sunday, February 10, 2013
If I lived in Neverland...
I wouldn't even mind being called a pirate, since that's the only kind of grown-ups that are allowed in Neverland.
I wouldn't have to send my kids back and forth. We could follow the leader through the woods, and splash in Mermaid Lagoon, and explore the caves, looking for buried treasure.
All. The. Time. Without interruption.
I would have a truly excellent tan...without any worry of skin cancer, because who get melanomas in Neverland? Nobody, that's who. Along those same lines, I would be totally, perfectly fit...because, again, who's imperfect in Neverland?
I'd have my very own Tinkerbell at my disposal, just in case I wanted to fly around and sparkle more than I already do...
N and I watched Peter Pan today, in case you hadn't picked up on that. It was one of his favorites when he was little, third in a list that includes both Finding Nemo and Robin Hood. His stepmom dropped him off without warning before 9 am, which was a little bizarre, but, lucky for him (and for me), I heard him knock.
We piled on the couch, curled up with some blankets, and went off to Neverland. I love Peter Pan. In fact, my dad IS the Pan. Hook is another one of my favorites. I've been known to yell, "Bangarang!" when excited on occasion. Hook is the reason why I still refer to birthdays as "berfdays," and that's a special memory I have with my cousins, Clif & Colton.
We used to watch Hook and True Lies en route to Garner every single summer...until we got within 15 minutes of Garner, and then we'd start chanting "42" in hopes that we'd score our favorite campsite each year. Those are the memories that transport me to my very own Neverland. I swear, at Garner, time just kind of stops. It's a magical place.
Know what else is magical? This second round of squats. I'm starting to add variations to my reps each day, simply for something else to do. It doesn't take long to breeze through them when they're 50 or less. I did them (most days) last week while N was eating his breakfast before school. At this rate, my bottom half will be ready for summer in no time. It's the top half I should probably focus on a little more seriously.
Since B comes home tomorrow, N is kind of excited...looking forward to being able to play with his brother. I predict that this will last approximately one day. I think, for sure, by Thursday, N will be saying he hates life and wishes B would go elsewhere, and B will be saying he wishes he was an only child. Then they'll both ask me for a puppy and a backyard, and B will tack on a request for a stepdad, however, I think that will probably be mentioned prior to Thursday.
We all have a fairly busy week this week. I'm hoping to get them outside to throw and practice for their upcoming tryouts of sorts. I'm also hoping both my dad and sister will be able to be a part of at least some portion of our weekend. That's right, I'm hoping my dad will make his first trip back to Dallas this weekend since he moved nearly 2 years ago. I really want him to come visit. We always go to see him, and I love going down to Houston...but I'd love for him to come see us in our environment, too, where the boys have their own space with their own stuff to entertain themselves.
But right now, all I want to do is sleep. And dream of Neverland.
Things seem like they would be much easier there...
Aubs
I wouldn't have to send my kids back and forth. We could follow the leader through the woods, and splash in Mermaid Lagoon, and explore the caves, looking for buried treasure.
All. The. Time. Without interruption.
I would have a truly excellent tan...without any worry of skin cancer, because who get melanomas in Neverland? Nobody, that's who. Along those same lines, I would be totally, perfectly fit...because, again, who's imperfect in Neverland?
I'd have my very own Tinkerbell at my disposal, just in case I wanted to fly around and sparkle more than I already do...
N and I watched Peter Pan today, in case you hadn't picked up on that. It was one of his favorites when he was little, third in a list that includes both Finding Nemo and Robin Hood. His stepmom dropped him off without warning before 9 am, which was a little bizarre, but, lucky for him (and for me), I heard him knock.
We piled on the couch, curled up with some blankets, and went off to Neverland. I love Peter Pan. In fact, my dad IS the Pan. Hook is another one of my favorites. I've been known to yell, "Bangarang!" when excited on occasion. Hook is the reason why I still refer to birthdays as "berfdays," and that's a special memory I have with my cousins, Clif & Colton.
We used to watch Hook and True Lies en route to Garner every single summer...until we got within 15 minutes of Garner, and then we'd start chanting "42" in hopes that we'd score our favorite campsite each year. Those are the memories that transport me to my very own Neverland. I swear, at Garner, time just kind of stops. It's a magical place.
Know what else is magical? This second round of squats. I'm starting to add variations to my reps each day, simply for something else to do. It doesn't take long to breeze through them when they're 50 or less. I did them (most days) last week while N was eating his breakfast before school. At this rate, my bottom half will be ready for summer in no time. It's the top half I should probably focus on a little more seriously.
Since B comes home tomorrow, N is kind of excited...looking forward to being able to play with his brother. I predict that this will last approximately one day. I think, for sure, by Thursday, N will be saying he hates life and wishes B would go elsewhere, and B will be saying he wishes he was an only child. Then they'll both ask me for a puppy and a backyard, and B will tack on a request for a stepdad, however, I think that will probably be mentioned prior to Thursday.
We all have a fairly busy week this week. I'm hoping to get them outside to throw and practice for their upcoming tryouts of sorts. I'm also hoping both my dad and sister will be able to be a part of at least some portion of our weekend. That's right, I'm hoping my dad will make his first trip back to Dallas this weekend since he moved nearly 2 years ago. I really want him to come visit. We always go to see him, and I love going down to Houston...but I'd love for him to come see us in our environment, too, where the boys have their own space with their own stuff to entertain themselves.
But right now, all I want to do is sleep. And dream of Neverland.
Things seem like they would be much easier there...
Aubs
Basketball Season: Complete
Y'all, I wish I had recorded today's game. It was something that can only be described as hilarious. I'm pretty sure everyone was just happy to have the season come to a close. While we were waiting for our turn, I looked up to see B's teacher passing out trophies to a team of older boys. Her son is a middle schooler, and her husband coaches the team. I just love her. I really do. She's so sweet and friendly, and she just loves B. She actually emailed me the other day in response to an email I sent her, telling her I hoped B was a little less distracting since we're getting his nose blowing/cold issues out of the way, and she sent a reply saying, "I have noticed this week he has been much less of a distraction and even sits better during instruction. I know it can be hard. He is a sweet little boy, and it seems to me that he truly wants to do the right thing." She's such a great teacher for him.
Anyway, when we got into the gym, I was sitting there, talking to N's dad, and he kept leaning over to tell me that the guy on the other side of him had horrible breath and wouldn't stop talking to him.
What did I do? I kept up the conversation with the guy. I know. I'm so sweet, but we'd been talking prior to the game, so it would be rude to just start ignoring him. They left after the first quarter anyway...and then Justin was like, "Man...I think I'm the one who stinks."
He was right. He'd been cleaning a pool filter or something, and gotten something totally smelly on his pants. Throughout the game, he kept saying, "I want to get away from myself!" and I kept agreeing. I'm supportive. Plus, he did smell.
The game actually started off really well. All of the players who were there (2 boys stopped showing up in the last week, and frankly, I don't blame them) were trying really hard to end their season on a high note. There was a lot of confusion during this game: the officials, the scorers, the coaches...nobody seemed to be on the same page. We were the home team, but wearing "away" jerseys, and somewhere in the middle of the game, they switched us to "away." It was massively confusing. There were a ton of fouls and jump balls and hopeful money shots from half court that never had a prayer, but the kids kept insisting, "This is my best shot! Give me the ball, I'll score."
N got in there and made a few shots (Read: people actually passed him the ball), got fouled, and even fouled a couple of times. There was a lot more teamwork during today's game; I'd even venture to say there was more today than there has been all season...probably because the season is over. N is a good player, but he doesn't get a lot of ball handling time because he doesn't get in there and play defense, he just runs around the outside, passing and shooting. Since he's hesitant to get in there and try to steal the ball, I was super proud.
I was NOT so proud when the ref told him to turn around so he could see his number, and N just stared at him. When the ref asked again, still no response. When he did a third time, and motioned for him to turn around, N copped an attitude. We probably need to work on that. I know we need to work on that.
I was super proud when he made a basket down on my end of the court, and I got to see the huge smile of satisfaction on his face as he saw it go in. He didn't even care that Justin and I were cheering him on using assorted nicknames. He just rolled his eyes.
The other team was a team they had played before, but I wasn't there for that game. They have a couple of really good players, including a smaller kid who has an incredible three-point money shot, and this other smallish player who's fantastic at blocking and hustling up and down the court. There's another player...that poor kid got beat to hell during this game, mostly his own doing. He reminds me of a puppy who hasn't really grown into his paws yet. Every single time I looked up, he was banging some part of his body on the court: his head, elbow, back, knee, face...you name it. It got to be almost funny because I couldn't see how he could possibly hurt himself again. He never disappointed.
Also, on the other team, there was this kid who was hysterical. He was number 6, and I was thoroughly entertained by him. He and N were matched up for the majority of the game, and one of the other kids on N's team (the one his coach apparently called a huge pain in practice on Monday) is a total ball hog AND thinks he's the boss. He's bossing N around on the court, and he's wrong, and N's arguing with him, and I'm slapping my forehead, and N's trying to stay on 6, but the other kid keeps getting in the way.
So what happens next? Only the funniest thing I've ever seen. It could've been part of a Three Stooges skit. N's teammate is standing still, arguing with N. N's trying to match up with 6...only he can't, 'cause 6 is actively skipping in circles (with a look of pure glee on his face) around N's teammate while they argue. Even now, 12 hours later, I'm laughing hysterically at the mental image of this kid. N looks up when he hears me laughing, and I can tell he's trying so hard not to get pissed (which he already is...at his teammate, not me...yet) and not to laugh. Later he told me he knew I was laughing at the other kid, but it seemed like I laughed a lot this game. I didn't laugh much more than normal...it's just the sidelines were a whole lot closer in this gym.
They lost, but for at least 60% of the game, they were winning. Also, their coach was the ONLY coach I saw today who didn't have trophies for the players after their last game. Instead, we're supposed to meet on Monday, during our normal practice time, to get our trophies and hang out as a team. I bet we skip it...or go, grab the trophy and go. CiCi's Pizza? Not so much. As we left, it started drizzling...so what's the best thing to do when it's cold and rainy outside?
Go bridesmaid dress shopping at David's Bridal, of course. I enlisted my mom's help, after scaring her off initially (she still remembers the whole shopping for the Christmas party dress incident all too well), and off we went. We found a few decent styles, but a couple were literally 10-12 sizes too big, so it was hard to tell how they would actually look if they fit. She said she wouldn't be opposed to going to a different location, as long as we ate lunch first.
So, off to Olive Garden we went, for salad and Chicken & Shrimp Carbonara. Oh, it was delicious. It was just perfect for a rainy Saturday afternoon, and after we had full tummies, we went to try the dresses in a size that was a little closer to the size I wear. It was still hard to tell, but we were both done for the day, so I emailed the group of them to the bride, and awaited her reply.
Of the six styles I sent, we both disliked two, so now it's down to four...but I think there are really two or three that are available in her colors. I'd go look somewhere other than a bridal store, but with prom quickly approaching, anything I could find that would be coral would be entirely too sparkly, fluffy, or (if I went the cocktail dress angle) not entirely appropriate for a smallish outdoor ceremony in Arizona in June.
So, if you need me tomorrow, I'll be making calls and writing some papers 'cause it's what I do...
I actually got an email from one of my professors saying, "Why are you taking this class? I'm pretty sure you've already mastered the techniques I'm teaching."
Who doesn't love to hear that?
Aubs
Anyway, when we got into the gym, I was sitting there, talking to N's dad, and he kept leaning over to tell me that the guy on the other side of him had horrible breath and wouldn't stop talking to him.
What did I do? I kept up the conversation with the guy. I know. I'm so sweet, but we'd been talking prior to the game, so it would be rude to just start ignoring him. They left after the first quarter anyway...and then Justin was like, "Man...I think I'm the one who stinks."
He was right. He'd been cleaning a pool filter or something, and gotten something totally smelly on his pants. Throughout the game, he kept saying, "I want to get away from myself!" and I kept agreeing. I'm supportive. Plus, he did smell.
The game actually started off really well. All of the players who were there (2 boys stopped showing up in the last week, and frankly, I don't blame them) were trying really hard to end their season on a high note. There was a lot of confusion during this game: the officials, the scorers, the coaches...nobody seemed to be on the same page. We were the home team, but wearing "away" jerseys, and somewhere in the middle of the game, they switched us to "away." It was massively confusing. There were a ton of fouls and jump balls and hopeful money shots from half court that never had a prayer, but the kids kept insisting, "This is my best shot! Give me the ball, I'll score."
N got in there and made a few shots (Read: people actually passed him the ball), got fouled, and even fouled a couple of times. There was a lot more teamwork during today's game; I'd even venture to say there was more today than there has been all season...probably because the season is over. N is a good player, but he doesn't get a lot of ball handling time because he doesn't get in there and play defense, he just runs around the outside, passing and shooting. Since he's hesitant to get in there and try to steal the ball, I was super proud.
I was NOT so proud when the ref told him to turn around so he could see his number, and N just stared at him. When the ref asked again, still no response. When he did a third time, and motioned for him to turn around, N copped an attitude. We probably need to work on that. I know we need to work on that.
I was super proud when he made a basket down on my end of the court, and I got to see the huge smile of satisfaction on his face as he saw it go in. He didn't even care that Justin and I were cheering him on using assorted nicknames. He just rolled his eyes.
The other team was a team they had played before, but I wasn't there for that game. They have a couple of really good players, including a smaller kid who has an incredible three-point money shot, and this other smallish player who's fantastic at blocking and hustling up and down the court. There's another player...that poor kid got beat to hell during this game, mostly his own doing. He reminds me of a puppy who hasn't really grown into his paws yet. Every single time I looked up, he was banging some part of his body on the court: his head, elbow, back, knee, face...you name it. It got to be almost funny because I couldn't see how he could possibly hurt himself again. He never disappointed.
Also, on the other team, there was this kid who was hysterical. He was number 6, and I was thoroughly entertained by him. He and N were matched up for the majority of the game, and one of the other kids on N's team (the one his coach apparently called a huge pain in practice on Monday) is a total ball hog AND thinks he's the boss. He's bossing N around on the court, and he's wrong, and N's arguing with him, and I'm slapping my forehead, and N's trying to stay on 6, but the other kid keeps getting in the way.
So what happens next? Only the funniest thing I've ever seen. It could've been part of a Three Stooges skit. N's teammate is standing still, arguing with N. N's trying to match up with 6...only he can't, 'cause 6 is actively skipping in circles (with a look of pure glee on his face) around N's teammate while they argue. Even now, 12 hours later, I'm laughing hysterically at the mental image of this kid. N looks up when he hears me laughing, and I can tell he's trying so hard not to get pissed (which he already is...at his teammate, not me...yet) and not to laugh. Later he told me he knew I was laughing at the other kid, but it seemed like I laughed a lot this game. I didn't laugh much more than normal...it's just the sidelines were a whole lot closer in this gym.
They lost, but for at least 60% of the game, they were winning. Also, their coach was the ONLY coach I saw today who didn't have trophies for the players after their last game. Instead, we're supposed to meet on Monday, during our normal practice time, to get our trophies and hang out as a team. I bet we skip it...or go, grab the trophy and go. CiCi's Pizza? Not so much. As we left, it started drizzling...so what's the best thing to do when it's cold and rainy outside?
Go bridesmaid dress shopping at David's Bridal, of course. I enlisted my mom's help, after scaring her off initially (she still remembers the whole shopping for the Christmas party dress incident all too well), and off we went. We found a few decent styles, but a couple were literally 10-12 sizes too big, so it was hard to tell how they would actually look if they fit. She said she wouldn't be opposed to going to a different location, as long as we ate lunch first.
So, off to Olive Garden we went, for salad and Chicken & Shrimp Carbonara. Oh, it was delicious. It was just perfect for a rainy Saturday afternoon, and after we had full tummies, we went to try the dresses in a size that was a little closer to the size I wear. It was still hard to tell, but we were both done for the day, so I emailed the group of them to the bride, and awaited her reply.
Of the six styles I sent, we both disliked two, so now it's down to four...but I think there are really two or three that are available in her colors. I'd go look somewhere other than a bridal store, but with prom quickly approaching, anything I could find that would be coral would be entirely too sparkly, fluffy, or (if I went the cocktail dress angle) not entirely appropriate for a smallish outdoor ceremony in Arizona in June.
So, if you need me tomorrow, I'll be making calls and writing some papers 'cause it's what I do...
I actually got an email from one of my professors saying, "Why are you taking this class? I'm pretty sure you've already mastered the techniques I'm teaching."
Who doesn't love to hear that?
Aubs
Friday, February 8, 2013
Little Ricky Retardo
Disclaimer: Today has been a really weird day.
This morning, after I made sure N got on the bus, and I finished getting ready for class, I prepared my huge Starbucks cup with two cups of coffee, and off I went. As I was making my way to school, in a zigzag pattern (in hopes of avoiding traffic), I saw multiple people get pulled over for talking on their phones...even using bluetooth devices...and I was always in front of the cops who were trying to pull them over. They'd wave me out of the way, and I'd gladly comply. No tickets for this girl! Yes, I just knocked on the coffee table...No worries. I'm covered.
As I pulled up to a light to turn left, and proceeded to start turning, I caught a glimpse of a familiar face to the right of me, also turning. I had to look to make sure, but it was a guy I went to high school with; I'd just seen him for the first time in a while around Christmas time with his wife and kids. I pulled up next to him, and he looked over, but didn't recognize me (sunglasses), but as he pulled forward, he looked into his sideview mirror, seemingly puzzled. I waved, and he seemed even more puzzled. We drove on for a while, and then ended up next to each other at a light. I looked over and waved, he looked at me like "What the?" so I took off my sunglasses, recognition dawned, and he rolled down his window.
I reluctantly turned down my XM and rolled my window down, too. He said, "I was like, 'Who is this crazy lady waving at me?!' I guess I accidentally cut a lady off yesterday and she waved at me, too, but not so friendly." I was cracking up by this point, and said, "Nope, not a crazy lady...Just me!" and then we both laughed. I wished him a good day, and he did as well, and we were off. It kind of made my morning.
When my class got out 20 minutes early, I hit the liquor store for some cake vodka, Sam's for some water and chex mix, the library to return my library books, Bath & Body Works to get a couple of candles (2 for $22, and one of them smells like suntan lotion!), and then home in time to get the boys. Once they got home, we took off for snowcones and Bahama Buck's. N got orange & strawberry, B got blue bubble gum & strawberry, and y'all? I got Big Red & Juicy Fruit! SO good! They have a ton of different flavors, and healthier/sugar free options, too. They also have a ton of board games readily available for patrons to play while they're hanging out, eating their snowcones.
We've always liked Bahama Buck's, but I think we'll make inside trips a little more regularly now...especially since I found one close to my apartment.
After that, we ran by Starbucks to get some caramel syrup, so I can be my own barista, and then I dropped N at his friend's house to play. B and I went home, he ate the remainder of his snowcone AND his brother's, and then his stepmom came to get him, and I got peace & quiet. N didn't come home until well after 8:00, and he was being a turd.
He was also acting like a spaz, so when I called him "Little Ricky Retardo," I don't think he saw it coming, and he burst out laughing...which caused me to laugh until tears were rolling down my face. He got indignant (without taking the fall OR acting hurt), and it didn't help. I kept calling him "Little Ricky Retardo." and my laughter got a little louder and harder each time. (I might still be on a caffeine high). He finally said, "If I'm Little Ricky Retardo, that makes you Lucy Retardo!" We looked at each other, and dissolved into laughter all over again.
His dad called a short time later, and after we worked out basketball details for the last game tomorrow, N was just about to hang up when I yelled, "Tell dad what I call you now!" so he did. And y'all? I could hear his dad laughing all the way through the phone and across the room...and if you know his dad, you know he's not typically that loud.
Oh, it was so funny...I'm still laughing now, and N's sitting next to me (playing Xbox), griping about how his brother messed up the game when he played earlier, and complaining that I laugh entirely too much..
And, you know what? I'd rather laugh than be a crankpot...
And I haven't even opened the vodka yet!
Aubs
This morning, after I made sure N got on the bus, and I finished getting ready for class, I prepared my huge Starbucks cup with two cups of coffee, and off I went. As I was making my way to school, in a zigzag pattern (in hopes of avoiding traffic), I saw multiple people get pulled over for talking on their phones...even using bluetooth devices...and I was always in front of the cops who were trying to pull them over. They'd wave me out of the way, and I'd gladly comply. No tickets for this girl! Yes, I just knocked on the coffee table...No worries. I'm covered.
As I pulled up to a light to turn left, and proceeded to start turning, I caught a glimpse of a familiar face to the right of me, also turning. I had to look to make sure, but it was a guy I went to high school with; I'd just seen him for the first time in a while around Christmas time with his wife and kids. I pulled up next to him, and he looked over, but didn't recognize me (sunglasses), but as he pulled forward, he looked into his sideview mirror, seemingly puzzled. I waved, and he seemed even more puzzled. We drove on for a while, and then ended up next to each other at a light. I looked over and waved, he looked at me like "What the?" so I took off my sunglasses, recognition dawned, and he rolled down his window.
I reluctantly turned down my XM and rolled my window down, too. He said, "I was like, 'Who is this crazy lady waving at me?!' I guess I accidentally cut a lady off yesterday and she waved at me, too, but not so friendly." I was cracking up by this point, and said, "Nope, not a crazy lady...Just me!" and then we both laughed. I wished him a good day, and he did as well, and we were off. It kind of made my morning.
When my class got out 20 minutes early, I hit the liquor store for some cake vodka, Sam's for some water and chex mix, the library to return my library books, Bath & Body Works to get a couple of candles (2 for $22, and one of them smells like suntan lotion!), and then home in time to get the boys. Once they got home, we took off for snowcones and Bahama Buck's. N got orange & strawberry, B got blue bubble gum & strawberry, and y'all? I got Big Red & Juicy Fruit! SO good! They have a ton of different flavors, and healthier/sugar free options, too. They also have a ton of board games readily available for patrons to play while they're hanging out, eating their snowcones.
We've always liked Bahama Buck's, but I think we'll make inside trips a little more regularly now...especially since I found one close to my apartment.
After that, we ran by Starbucks to get some caramel syrup, so I can be my own barista, and then I dropped N at his friend's house to play. B and I went home, he ate the remainder of his snowcone AND his brother's, and then his stepmom came to get him, and I got peace & quiet. N didn't come home until well after 8:00, and he was being a turd.
He was also acting like a spaz, so when I called him "Little Ricky Retardo," I don't think he saw it coming, and he burst out laughing...which caused me to laugh until tears were rolling down my face. He got indignant (without taking the fall OR acting hurt), and it didn't help. I kept calling him "Little Ricky Retardo." and my laughter got a little louder and harder each time. (I might still be on a caffeine high). He finally said, "If I'm Little Ricky Retardo, that makes you Lucy Retardo!" We looked at each other, and dissolved into laughter all over again.
His dad called a short time later, and after we worked out basketball details for the last game tomorrow, N was just about to hang up when I yelled, "Tell dad what I call you now!" so he did. And y'all? I could hear his dad laughing all the way through the phone and across the room...and if you know his dad, you know he's not typically that loud.
Oh, it was so funny...I'm still laughing now, and N's sitting next to me (playing Xbox), griping about how his brother messed up the game when he played earlier, and complaining that I laugh entirely too much..
And, you know what? I'd rather laugh than be a crankpot...
And I haven't even opened the vodka yet!
Aubs
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