I consider myself to be spiritual and religious. I grew up in a church in San Antonio where everybody was like family. In fact, I still keep in touch with a few of the families that I've known since I was a toddler. Almost all of them are former members of our church family, which is kind of awesome when you think about it. These people were around when I made the decision to accept Jesus into my heart when I was 5. They witnessed me being baptized AND my blue flowered panties when the pastor picked me up after I'd been "dunked" showing them off for all the world to see. They greeted us with friendly smiles and warm hugs when we'd go back and visit.
When we moved to Oklahoma, we also became seriously involved with a church. We did AWANAs and VBS and Sunday School and church every weekend, without fail. It was our "home." And we loved it. I don't keep in touch with anyone from there, but that doesn't mean they don't pop into my mind every once in a while.
When we moved to Kansas 4 years later, we kind of fell off the wagon. We never took the time to find a church we really loved, and although we visited several churches, there were never any real "return" trips. I often wonder what life would have been like if we'd stayed involved. By the time we got back to Texas (again, 4 years later), church was a distant memory. We went through life, my parents eventually divorced and my dad started looking for a church again. I had my first kiddo and we started going to church with my dad almost every week. I looked forward to going, but then I just stopped again.
I don't think we're meant to be "stop & go" Christians, but I think that's how a lot of us operate when we're trying to find our way back to the right path. For 6 years, I turned my back on everything and everyone in an attempt to make a family work. In hindsight, it was the dumbest choice I've ever made, but it was one I think I needed to make to get me where I am today. Sometimes it's hard to get back into a groove, but once you find it, it's so worth it.
N has been going to church with his dad (when he's with him on the weekends) for as long as anyone can remember. He's grown up in this "superchurch" that's in between our houses. In the past, I'd attended this church on major holidays because, man...they really know how to go big on a Christmas Eve service. One year, they even flew in ice and had ice skaters and a snow machine on the stage! Last fall though, right around mid-October, they went in a totally weird direction for me, where they opened the service with "Thriller" and zombies and people in gas masks and haz-mat suits, banging on haz-mat barrels. I looked at N and said, "Um...yeah...I want to go somewhere else."
We went to another local church, much smaller, and found a pastor that we could relate to...and it was an entirely different environment. N told me he loved it, and I agreed. It was like home. His dad was not appreciative and somehow (although I don't think it was intentional) convinced N that he should come back to the only church he'd ever known. I disagree with this chain of events in its entirety, however, I'm learning to choose my battles, and you know what? At least my kids want to go to church. It may be entirely unconventional and totally off the wall, but they want to go. They both do.
So, we do. And it's caused me to step outside of my comfort zone on multiple occasions, but I have to admit...there are sermons that speak directly to my soul. And today, while in the middle of a praise & worship song, all of a sudden the music seemed to get louder, the intensity on the stage fiercer, and the voices amplified. I looked around me and there were people doing the same...and I can't describe it other than to say I fully felt the presence of God in that sanctuary at that precise moment. It brought tears to my eyes...and then, as the song finished, a large man in a football jersey looked at me and said, "Did you feel that?" and all I could do was nod.
And it may not be where I want to worship, but I fully recognize that it's where I need to worship. And I will. Because God is in control of my life, and I know He knows what's best.
Sometimes I forget and try to run things, but it's pointless because He knows the exact number of hairs on my head and what I'm going to do before I do it and what the outcome will be.
Aubs
Monday, September 15, 2014
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Coffee Dates and Fall Ball
I'm a pretty tough parent. I don't let much slide, and I always mean business. My boys tell me that I'm mean and they hate me on a fairly regular basis, and guess what?
I don't care. I'm not here to be their friend...oh, no. I'm here to be their parent. I'm here to scare them into submission if necessary and show them I mean business. Yes, there's definitely a level of mutual respect that has to be maintained for any household to be successful, and I do respect them as individuals, but when they start trying to talk to me as if we're equal, well, that's when it really hits the fan.
Today, I had made plans to meet one of my friends from my Texas high school days (I spent all of middle school and 9th grade in Kansas and transplanted back to my home state right before my Sophomore year.), and I was pretty excited about it. We haven't seen each other in 15 years, but we keep up fairly regularly on Facebook, so it's almost like we've never been apart. (Insert eye roll here) We always say we're going to get together when she's here visiting her mom/dad/sister/niece/nephew, or when I'm in Houston visiting dad/sister/brother-in-law, but it just never works out. This weekend, however, we were determined to make it work.
So, we did. And much to the dismay of my boys, we headed to Starbucks. Okay, so they actually tend to LIKE Starbucks (it's a rare thing for them...slightly less rare for their mom who often forgets to push the button on the Keurig, thus ruining her day), but the idea of sitting there for at least 30 minutes while I caught up with a friend was not really high on their "to-do" list. Not only that, but N had two baseball games scheduled for that afternoon, the first games of the season since the game last week was "rained" out without any rain, lightning, or soggy fields. We got there first and got drinks and cake pops ordered (I am NOT above bribery for things like this), and they were sitting outside when my pal and her hubs showed up.
What a site for sore eyes, seriously. Although there have been monumental changes in both of our lives, it was like we saw each other last week. I love friendships that stand the test of time. She teaches AP Human Geography in the Houston area, so we had a lot to talk about since that's what I'm working towards these days. It was a wonderful session of catching up and getting to know her husband (who is as sweet as can be) in between a series of interruptions from my blessed 8 year-old show stealer. We made plans to meet up in Houston on my next trip down there, sans children, and for me to observe her class for the day, too! I'm super excited to be able to reminisce a little bit more. For those of you who don't know me personally, I have a mind like a steel trap. I remember everything, even the most insignificant details...it makes tripping down memory lane really entertaining sometimes!
When we went our separate ways, I thanked the boys for being mostly patient while I reconnected with my friend. I reminded them that our lives are so busy with what they have going on that it was really nice to take an hour and talk to someone I haven't seen in...well, longer than either of them have been alive. N replied, "Mom, you really do do a lot for us, and it wasn't our favorite thing to do, but you never do much for yourself, so it was fine. I was just bored and B was annoying." B took a slightly different approach when he said, "You're welcome, Mom! What's our prize?" Um, how about just knowing you did a nice thing for your mom, there, kiddo? He wasn't impressed.
On to baseball...
I knew it was going to be rough. This team has only practiced together one time, and the gap in maturity levels as well as ages makes it tough. The first game was against the special needs team, and I don't know what I was expecting, but in some ways, I was very pleasantly surprised. They fielded the ball and threw it to each other and cheered the players on as they ran the bases. That part was awesome...and the reactions of those kids when they batted and started running? Totally priceless. I always spend those games (they're an hour at most) with a lump in my throat. It's just such an amazing experience. HOWEVER. When our team was up to bat, it all went downhill. When the players hit the ball, they wouldn't run to first base, they'd practically walk so they could get thrown out. Some of them never even made it on base, hitting against our OWN pitcher, and they were actually trying...I think. On the other hand, some players (or maybe it was just mine) took the opportunity to bat opposite, not because they are super successful at it, but because when they do connect, they hit the ball shorter distances and with less speed. Overall, it was a good experience, but the walking to 1st base thing really hacked me off. Hopefully the next time we play them is better.
During the 2nd game, all the stops were supposed to be pulled and we were supposed to play some serious baseball. The other team run-ruled us in the first inning, so spirits were pretty low. In the 2nd, N was behind the plate. After warming up around the field, he yelled, "Balls in, coming down!" which means that everyone needs to throw the balls to the dugout, and when the pitcher throws his last pitch, N will fire it up the middle to the second baseman who will then return it to the pitcher. Only, when N yelled it, nobody went to cover 2nd. I started to giggle silently, as N yelled "That means somebody cover 2nd!" and then that giggle got a little louder as three boys ran to cover 2nd, prompting N to say, "I only need one of you!" By that time, I'm laughing, so is my friend (from the opposing team), and the ump behind home plate? Well, he's DYING laughing. It was hilarious...and that pretty much set the tone for the evening. We lost by 4, and it would have been a whole lot less (we might have won, even) if there hadn't been a ton of wild throws and cut-off throws to 2nd that actually ended up in left or right field depending on who was throwing and from what position. There were pitchers who balked (right after I reminded the coach that they call balking in this league) and indignant "I didn't know you called balking! Can we have a warning?" coaches who blatantly...well, anyway. If N wanted to quit, I'd consider letting him, but I think it's a good opportunity for him to be a leader and an example.
To his teammates and to his coach, apparently.
Aubs
I don't care. I'm not here to be their friend...oh, no. I'm here to be their parent. I'm here to scare them into submission if necessary and show them I mean business. Yes, there's definitely a level of mutual respect that has to be maintained for any household to be successful, and I do respect them as individuals, but when they start trying to talk to me as if we're equal, well, that's when it really hits the fan.
Today, I had made plans to meet one of my friends from my Texas high school days (I spent all of middle school and 9th grade in Kansas and transplanted back to my home state right before my Sophomore year.), and I was pretty excited about it. We haven't seen each other in 15 years, but we keep up fairly regularly on Facebook, so it's almost like we've never been apart. (Insert eye roll here) We always say we're going to get together when she's here visiting her mom/dad/sister/niece/nephew, or when I'm in Houston visiting dad/sister/brother-in-law, but it just never works out. This weekend, however, we were determined to make it work.
So, we did. And much to the dismay of my boys, we headed to Starbucks. Okay, so they actually tend to LIKE Starbucks (it's a rare thing for them...slightly less rare for their mom who often forgets to push the button on the Keurig, thus ruining her day), but the idea of sitting there for at least 30 minutes while I caught up with a friend was not really high on their "to-do" list. Not only that, but N had two baseball games scheduled for that afternoon, the first games of the season since the game last week was "rained" out without any rain, lightning, or soggy fields. We got there first and got drinks and cake pops ordered (I am NOT above bribery for things like this), and they were sitting outside when my pal and her hubs showed up.
What a site for sore eyes, seriously. Although there have been monumental changes in both of our lives, it was like we saw each other last week. I love friendships that stand the test of time. She teaches AP Human Geography in the Houston area, so we had a lot to talk about since that's what I'm working towards these days. It was a wonderful session of catching up and getting to know her husband (who is as sweet as can be) in between a series of interruptions from my blessed 8 year-old show stealer. We made plans to meet up in Houston on my next trip down there, sans children, and for me to observe her class for the day, too! I'm super excited to be able to reminisce a little bit more. For those of you who don't know me personally, I have a mind like a steel trap. I remember everything, even the most insignificant details...it makes tripping down memory lane really entertaining sometimes!
When we went our separate ways, I thanked the boys for being mostly patient while I reconnected with my friend. I reminded them that our lives are so busy with what they have going on that it was really nice to take an hour and talk to someone I haven't seen in...well, longer than either of them have been alive. N replied, "Mom, you really do do a lot for us, and it wasn't our favorite thing to do, but you never do much for yourself, so it was fine. I was just bored and B was annoying." B took a slightly different approach when he said, "You're welcome, Mom! What's our prize?" Um, how about just knowing you did a nice thing for your mom, there, kiddo? He wasn't impressed.
On to baseball...
I knew it was going to be rough. This team has only practiced together one time, and the gap in maturity levels as well as ages makes it tough. The first game was against the special needs team, and I don't know what I was expecting, but in some ways, I was very pleasantly surprised. They fielded the ball and threw it to each other and cheered the players on as they ran the bases. That part was awesome...and the reactions of those kids when they batted and started running? Totally priceless. I always spend those games (they're an hour at most) with a lump in my throat. It's just such an amazing experience. HOWEVER. When our team was up to bat, it all went downhill. When the players hit the ball, they wouldn't run to first base, they'd practically walk so they could get thrown out. Some of them never even made it on base, hitting against our OWN pitcher, and they were actually trying...I think. On the other hand, some players (or maybe it was just mine) took the opportunity to bat opposite, not because they are super successful at it, but because when they do connect, they hit the ball shorter distances and with less speed. Overall, it was a good experience, but the walking to 1st base thing really hacked me off. Hopefully the next time we play them is better.
During the 2nd game, all the stops were supposed to be pulled and we were supposed to play some serious baseball. The other team run-ruled us in the first inning, so spirits were pretty low. In the 2nd, N was behind the plate. After warming up around the field, he yelled, "Balls in, coming down!" which means that everyone needs to throw the balls to the dugout, and when the pitcher throws his last pitch, N will fire it up the middle to the second baseman who will then return it to the pitcher. Only, when N yelled it, nobody went to cover 2nd. I started to giggle silently, as N yelled "That means somebody cover 2nd!" and then that giggle got a little louder as three boys ran to cover 2nd, prompting N to say, "I only need one of you!" By that time, I'm laughing, so is my friend (from the opposing team), and the ump behind home plate? Well, he's DYING laughing. It was hilarious...and that pretty much set the tone for the evening. We lost by 4, and it would have been a whole lot less (we might have won, even) if there hadn't been a ton of wild throws and cut-off throws to 2nd that actually ended up in left or right field depending on who was throwing and from what position. There were pitchers who balked (right after I reminded the coach that they call balking in this league) and indignant "I didn't know you called balking! Can we have a warning?" coaches who blatantly...well, anyway. If N wanted to quit, I'd consider letting him, but I think it's a good opportunity for him to be a leader and an example.
To his teammates and to his coach, apparently.
Aubs
Saturday, September 13, 2014
Indoor Baseball Practice
So, today? It was 64 degrees. In September. In Texas. It's unheard of. Seriously. And it was glorious! It rained most of the day, so it was no surprise that the practice fields were closed due to soggy conditions. Our coach called for an indoor team meeting instead. At McDonald's. In the PlayPlace. I didn't even want to tell N because I knew what his reaction would be. And, for the record, I was spot on.
When we got there, the coach announced N as the team captain. He also said N would be helping in the dugout and calling the plays on the field. You know, but no pressure. He IS just a 12 year-old kid, after all. He went through the plays and signs, repeatedly telling the boys how they were going to be sneaky and the signs were designed to trick the other teams who might have players who'd been on his teams before. Like, if there's a "thumbs up," it doesn't mean steal, it means to stay put. You know, because they won't pick up on that pretty quickly. Sigh.
One of the other things on the docket for the team meeting was discussion about the Challengers games. The Challengers are a group of special needs kids who want to play baseball. Part of playing U12 baseball is the privilege of playing games with this team. N was the only one at the meeting today who had played against them before (he's played against them for 2 seasons now), so the coach gave N the floor to tell the team what to expect. What I didn't expect was for one of the boys to snort and say, "Seriously?" He got death stares all around. N told them the point was to have fun, that it was their privilege to give back to our community, and that it served as a way to get some extra fielding practice in while making the other teams' day. Then the coach turned it over to some of the boys on our team who have special needs of their own.
Listen, I am absolutely not discounting dyslexia, because I know it can be extremely debilitating and totally mess with a person's self-confidence. It's a legitimate problem and I fully believe that those who suffer from it are in need of help to get through it and overcome it. HOWEVER, the kids on this particular team suffer from things like Cerebral Palsy or Down's Syndrome. They require help batting and running the bases and each of them have a caregiver out on the field with them when they're fielding. It's entirely different. And then, once the "heavy" stuff was over and the coach declared the meeting complete, three of N's teammates asked if they could go play on the playground. N stared at me, dumbfounded, and said "We need to leave...NOW." Because he's an 87 year-old man trapped in a 12 year-old's body.
The Challengers though? It's something that I know needs to be discussed with kids and parents because some kids get nervous and uncomfortable with stuff like that, and what do we, as humans, tend to do when we're nervous or uncomfortable? We laugh.
And these players and their families sure as heck don't deserve that.
It makes me REALLY nervous for tomorrow.
Aubs
When we got there, the coach announced N as the team captain. He also said N would be helping in the dugout and calling the plays on the field. You know, but no pressure. He IS just a 12 year-old kid, after all. He went through the plays and signs, repeatedly telling the boys how they were going to be sneaky and the signs were designed to trick the other teams who might have players who'd been on his teams before. Like, if there's a "thumbs up," it doesn't mean steal, it means to stay put. You know, because they won't pick up on that pretty quickly. Sigh.
One of the other things on the docket for the team meeting was discussion about the Challengers games. The Challengers are a group of special needs kids who want to play baseball. Part of playing U12 baseball is the privilege of playing games with this team. N was the only one at the meeting today who had played against them before (he's played against them for 2 seasons now), so the coach gave N the floor to tell the team what to expect. What I didn't expect was for one of the boys to snort and say, "Seriously?" He got death stares all around. N told them the point was to have fun, that it was their privilege to give back to our community, and that it served as a way to get some extra fielding practice in while making the other teams' day. Then the coach turned it over to some of the boys on our team who have special needs of their own.
Listen, I am absolutely not discounting dyslexia, because I know it can be extremely debilitating and totally mess with a person's self-confidence. It's a legitimate problem and I fully believe that those who suffer from it are in need of help to get through it and overcome it. HOWEVER, the kids on this particular team suffer from things like Cerebral Palsy or Down's Syndrome. They require help batting and running the bases and each of them have a caregiver out on the field with them when they're fielding. It's entirely different. And then, once the "heavy" stuff was over and the coach declared the meeting complete, three of N's teammates asked if they could go play on the playground. N stared at me, dumbfounded, and said "We need to leave...NOW." Because he's an 87 year-old man trapped in a 12 year-old's body.
The Challengers though? It's something that I know needs to be discussed with kids and parents because some kids get nervous and uncomfortable with stuff like that, and what do we, as humans, tend to do when we're nervous or uncomfortable? We laugh.
And these players and their families sure as heck don't deserve that.
It makes me REALLY nervous for tomorrow.
Aubs
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Where were you...
I get pretty emotional about certain things...patriotism is one of them. I remember going to the gas station to await the special edition newspapers when the Twin Towers were hit. I remember waiting for hours, the television in the gas station (behind the counter) turned around so all of the patrons could watch the footage in absolute horror.
And while I was watching the reports and recollections and as I was reading the articles, I was struck by just how much technology has changed since then. I know, it's a weird thing to get stuck on when there are much bigger things to remember. I read Ari Fleischer's tweets of what he was doing on 9/11/01, and how things are so much different now, and I hadn't even thought about how iPhone hadn't even been invented yet.
Whoa.
It doesn't matter if it's the anniversary of 9/11 or another random day in the year...but the brave men, women and children who lost their lives that day pop into my head all the time, and I have to swallow hard past the large lump that forms in my throat. When I re-read the stories of loved ones lost in the towers or the Pentagon or that random field in Pennsylvania, tears fill my eyes. Even now, as I mull over what I want to express, I find it hard...and we all know that coming up with words is NEVER an issue for me.
There were 10 pregnant women who died that day, and 10+ babies who never got to experience life in the real world. I never realized there were that many...and that made me so sad. 10 men didn't just lose their wives/significant others that day. They lost their unborn children, as well. It's a pretty sobering thought. Even though my knuckleheads drive me crazy sometimes, I couldn't imagine never having the opportunity to meet them here on this Earth.
So, we spent our Thursday loving each other a little more and spending a little more time together and while that may not seem like a whole lot, it was something. We talked about what today commemorates. We talked about the heroes and pride and patriotism. When the boys left for school, I watched the moments of silence and prayed for the families of those who lost their loved ones. And then I realized that it's been 13 years. Some of these children never knew their fathers, never got to feel what it was like to get a hug or give a high-five...and that made me want to vomit.
I hate there are people who lost their lives thanks to some cowardly terrorists. My Facebook post says pretty much all I need to say:
"We will never forget. Cowards took countless lives that day, and changed not only the American people, but the scope of our entire country. Families were ripped apart as people lost their mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, husbands, wives, children, aunts, uncles, cousins in the Twin Towers and the resulting aftermath. People watched in shock, outrage, and fear as our worst nightmare unfolded right before our very eyes. Families shared last phone calls with their loved ones before they crashed into the Pentagon. And a group of true American heroes on a plane in Pennsylvania figured out what was going on and made the conscious, collective decision to not go down without a fight. They struggled and they fought against the evil on board their flight, and they succeeded in thwarting the terrorists' plans. Two years ago, I stood at a wall filled with names of heroes, erected in the exact place where the plane made impact in that Pennsylvania field and began to slide. As I stared at the names on that wall, tears streaming down my face, I felt nothing but immense pride and gratitude for these true American heroes. They knew they were going to die that day, and yet, they chose to die fighting for our country...average American people. They didn't sign up for this, nor did their families, but they are heroic and brave and always deserving of our recognition. To all of those who lost someone they love on that fateful day, 13 years ago, we salute you. We will never forget, and their memories will always live on. God Bless the United States of America."
Aubs
And while I was watching the reports and recollections and as I was reading the articles, I was struck by just how much technology has changed since then. I know, it's a weird thing to get stuck on when there are much bigger things to remember. I read Ari Fleischer's tweets of what he was doing on 9/11/01, and how things are so much different now, and I hadn't even thought about how iPhone hadn't even been invented yet.
Whoa.
It doesn't matter if it's the anniversary of 9/11 or another random day in the year...but the brave men, women and children who lost their lives that day pop into my head all the time, and I have to swallow hard past the large lump that forms in my throat. When I re-read the stories of loved ones lost in the towers or the Pentagon or that random field in Pennsylvania, tears fill my eyes. Even now, as I mull over what I want to express, I find it hard...and we all know that coming up with words is NEVER an issue for me.
There were 10 pregnant women who died that day, and 10+ babies who never got to experience life in the real world. I never realized there were that many...and that made me so sad. 10 men didn't just lose their wives/significant others that day. They lost their unborn children, as well. It's a pretty sobering thought. Even though my knuckleheads drive me crazy sometimes, I couldn't imagine never having the opportunity to meet them here on this Earth.
So, we spent our Thursday loving each other a little more and spending a little more time together and while that may not seem like a whole lot, it was something. We talked about what today commemorates. We talked about the heroes and pride and patriotism. When the boys left for school, I watched the moments of silence and prayed for the families of those who lost their loved ones. And then I realized that it's been 13 years. Some of these children never knew their fathers, never got to feel what it was like to get a hug or give a high-five...and that made me want to vomit.
I hate there are people who lost their lives thanks to some cowardly terrorists. My Facebook post says pretty much all I need to say:
"We will never forget. Cowards took countless lives that day, and changed not only the American people, but the scope of our entire country. Families were ripped apart as people lost their mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, husbands, wives, children, aunts, uncles, cousins in the Twin Towers and the resulting aftermath. People watched in shock, outrage, and fear as our worst nightmare unfolded right before our very eyes. Families shared last phone calls with their loved ones before they crashed into the Pentagon. And a group of true American heroes on a plane in Pennsylvania figured out what was going on and made the conscious, collective decision to not go down without a fight. They struggled and they fought against the evil on board their flight, and they succeeded in thwarting the terrorists' plans. Two years ago, I stood at a wall filled with names of heroes, erected in the exact place where the plane made impact in that Pennsylvania field and began to slide. As I stared at the names on that wall, tears streaming down my face, I felt nothing but immense pride and gratitude for these true American heroes. They knew they were going to die that day, and yet, they chose to die fighting for our country...average American people. They didn't sign up for this, nor did their families, but they are heroic and brave and always deserving of our recognition. To all of those who lost someone they love on that fateful day, 13 years ago, we salute you. We will never forget, and their memories will always live on. God Bless the United States of America."
Aubs
What a day...
It has been a day, friends.
N fell asleep at 6:45 last night and slept until I woke him up this morning, and even then it was reluctantly.
As he took For.Ev.Er. showering, I had a discussion with B about being my "joy" boy, and how much I loved his optimism. He often speaks negatively about himself, calling himself dumb or stupid or annoying, and it breaks my heart. Yes, he has his moments, but those moments where he's cackling with glee or the happiness is literally radiating from his pores more than make up for the not-so-good moments.
I spent the majority of the morning working on homework for a class I would have to miss that afternoon. In fact, when I realized I was going to miss class, I spoke with my professor to see if she wouldn't mind going over the lecture portion with me prior to the class beginning since I needed to head out right around when class began. She was thrilled that I asked to make it up instead of just letting it go, further cementing the fact that I am her favorite student.
We spent a good 45 minutes discussing the lesson and life in general and then I scurried off to my meeting. I sat for an hour, waiting for my name to be called, then another 30 minutes in the office waiting for the other party to show. They didn't. So now, there's more waiting. Super! I'm the most patient person on the planet, so that should be easy peasy.
Oh, right.
I rushed back out to my "bubble" to pick B up from the Y (I swore I'd only leave him in after-school care for the shortest amount of time humanly possible...and he was impressed that it was only 15 minutes), after making a quick trip to the grocery store because we needed eggs. I know this because I made a scrambled egg for breakfast this morning and ate one bite before I threw it in the trash. Oh, hello expiration date of August 2. How YOU doin?
The boys were at odds on what to have for dinner tonight: B wanted bean & cheese tostadas (we're very fancy) and N preferred some breaded cod. I told them they had to agree because I wasn't "a short order cook" and B looks at me glumly and says, "I'll be your joy boy...and we can have cod, but will you make mac and cheese?" I cannot even begin to tell you how my heart overflowed with love for that precious boy at that exact moment.
Our night was mostly uneventful: the boys played Xbox, I did homework, and I totally missed the Presidential Address. I fully intended to watch, but sometimes killing zombies is just more important. I marveled over the sheer number of people who are considering keeping their children home tomorrow because it's the 13th anniversary of 9/11. And I have some thoughts.
ISIS has probably had cells in America for forever. The cowardly executions of journalists is only bringing our attention to the fact that we've been co-existing for years without knowing.
Trouble is brewing. It always will be when you're the greatest nation in the world. The "bad" guys will always want to try to knock you down or bring you to your knees.
Terrorists don't want to ride the coattails of another terrorist group. The likelihood of ISIS attempting an attack on the United States on 9/11 is pretty dang small. If they did, they'd always be known as "those guys who copied al-Qaeda."
Then I read on kera.org that Dallas has been voted the number 1 skyline in the world, and I though, "Oh, bleep!" I was just declaring (via Facebook, of course) how Dallas was but a teency blip on the terrorist radar, and then that. Womp womp!
We are a nation of strength and determination. We do not cower. We may not always get it right, but we are a nation, under God. So perhaps if we just trusted in Him and put it in His hands, the world would be a much better place.
I will not live in fear of terrorists, or anything else for that matter...except maybe ankle-slitters. I will trust in God because He brought me into this world and He knows when I will make my exit. He holds the cards as well as my trust.
Aubs
N fell asleep at 6:45 last night and slept until I woke him up this morning, and even then it was reluctantly.
As he took For.Ev.Er. showering, I had a discussion with B about being my "joy" boy, and how much I loved his optimism. He often speaks negatively about himself, calling himself dumb or stupid or annoying, and it breaks my heart. Yes, he has his moments, but those moments where he's cackling with glee or the happiness is literally radiating from his pores more than make up for the not-so-good moments.
I spent the majority of the morning working on homework for a class I would have to miss that afternoon. In fact, when I realized I was going to miss class, I spoke with my professor to see if she wouldn't mind going over the lecture portion with me prior to the class beginning since I needed to head out right around when class began. She was thrilled that I asked to make it up instead of just letting it go, further cementing the fact that I am her favorite student.
We spent a good 45 minutes discussing the lesson and life in general and then I scurried off to my meeting. I sat for an hour, waiting for my name to be called, then another 30 minutes in the office waiting for the other party to show. They didn't. So now, there's more waiting. Super! I'm the most patient person on the planet, so that should be easy peasy.
Oh, right.
I rushed back out to my "bubble" to pick B up from the Y (I swore I'd only leave him in after-school care for the shortest amount of time humanly possible...and he was impressed that it was only 15 minutes), after making a quick trip to the grocery store because we needed eggs. I know this because I made a scrambled egg for breakfast this morning and ate one bite before I threw it in the trash. Oh, hello expiration date of August 2. How YOU doin?
The boys were at odds on what to have for dinner tonight: B wanted bean & cheese tostadas (we're very fancy) and N preferred some breaded cod. I told them they had to agree because I wasn't "a short order cook" and B looks at me glumly and says, "I'll be your joy boy...and we can have cod, but will you make mac and cheese?" I cannot even begin to tell you how my heart overflowed with love for that precious boy at that exact moment.
Our night was mostly uneventful: the boys played Xbox, I did homework, and I totally missed the Presidential Address. I fully intended to watch, but sometimes killing zombies is just more important. I marveled over the sheer number of people who are considering keeping their children home tomorrow because it's the 13th anniversary of 9/11. And I have some thoughts.
ISIS has probably had cells in America for forever. The cowardly executions of journalists is only bringing our attention to the fact that we've been co-existing for years without knowing.
Trouble is brewing. It always will be when you're the greatest nation in the world. The "bad" guys will always want to try to knock you down or bring you to your knees.
Terrorists don't want to ride the coattails of another terrorist group. The likelihood of ISIS attempting an attack on the United States on 9/11 is pretty dang small. If they did, they'd always be known as "those guys who copied al-Qaeda."
Then I read on kera.org that Dallas has been voted the number 1 skyline in the world, and I though, "Oh, bleep!" I was just declaring (via Facebook, of course) how Dallas was but a teency blip on the terrorist radar, and then that. Womp womp!
We are a nation of strength and determination. We do not cower. We may not always get it right, but we are a nation, under God. So perhaps if we just trusted in Him and put it in His hands, the world would be a much better place.
I will not live in fear of terrorists, or anything else for that matter...except maybe ankle-slitters. I will trust in God because He brought me into this world and He knows when I will make my exit. He holds the cards as well as my trust.
Aubs
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
What is wrong with me?!
Okay, so that's a loaded question, if I've ever written one...but seriously. I am so "off" these days, and it's really starting to irritate me.
I either sleep really well or I don't sleep at all (or so it seems). I have that kind of sleep where you keep thinking you're on the verge of falling asleep, but maybe you're really just dreaming it because enough time has passed to where you've obviously been asleep. Does that make sense? Well, it does to me.
I slept like a rock last night, but by the time I'd dropped B off at school and made my way back home to work on homework, I could barely keep my eyes open. A short snooze would surely get me back on track, right? Just like last week...five hours later, I woke up in a panic, realizing I'd wasted the entire "child-free" part of my day, and rushed to make up for it. I read until it was time to pick B up from school and then came home from that, exhausted once again.
It's not just me, either, which is oddly comforting. N was in a Mood with a capital "M" today, and flat out refused to eat the dinner I made. Turkey tacos are usually a big hit, and I only made those because I didn't have any ground beef that wasn't frozen solid. Tonight, though, he refused, so I told him to take it or leave it. He left it, but with such an attitude that I sent him to his room at 6:30. He almost immediately fell asleep, and I can pretty much guarantee that I won't hear another peep from him until tomorrow. 7th grade is kicking his butt...or maybe it's the growing/hormones/puberty. Or maybe a combination of all of the above. All I know is my 12 year-old has a mustache...and it's not on purpose. It creeps me out, y'all.
I almost fell asleep on the couch earlier, and I doubt I'll make it to 10:00 tonight. I have absolutely zero energy, and I've already been trying to think of all of the reasons I might be so lethargic without resorting to WEBMD with a list of my symptoms, because I just know it will tell me I have a tumor.
All symptoms always lead to tumors on WEBMD.
B is the only one, bless him, that is being as sweet as can be. I realized that he really is my "joy" boy, the boy that is always quick to find the good and bounce back from the not-so-good with immeasurable optimism. He is just joyful. His giggles and his smile and his love for all people and things is just such a privilege to see...even when he's a crankpot sometimes! We all have our days.
I'm going to force myself to get a little more reading in, and then I'm crashing AGAIN for what I hope is a super-restful night because I'm totally going to need it tomorrow.
Aubs
I either sleep really well or I don't sleep at all (or so it seems). I have that kind of sleep where you keep thinking you're on the verge of falling asleep, but maybe you're really just dreaming it because enough time has passed to where you've obviously been asleep. Does that make sense? Well, it does to me.
I slept like a rock last night, but by the time I'd dropped B off at school and made my way back home to work on homework, I could barely keep my eyes open. A short snooze would surely get me back on track, right? Just like last week...five hours later, I woke up in a panic, realizing I'd wasted the entire "child-free" part of my day, and rushed to make up for it. I read until it was time to pick B up from school and then came home from that, exhausted once again.
It's not just me, either, which is oddly comforting. N was in a Mood with a capital "M" today, and flat out refused to eat the dinner I made. Turkey tacos are usually a big hit, and I only made those because I didn't have any ground beef that wasn't frozen solid. Tonight, though, he refused, so I told him to take it or leave it. He left it, but with such an attitude that I sent him to his room at 6:30. He almost immediately fell asleep, and I can pretty much guarantee that I won't hear another peep from him until tomorrow. 7th grade is kicking his butt...or maybe it's the growing/hormones/puberty. Or maybe a combination of all of the above. All I know is my 12 year-old has a mustache...and it's not on purpose. It creeps me out, y'all.
I almost fell asleep on the couch earlier, and I doubt I'll make it to 10:00 tonight. I have absolutely zero energy, and I've already been trying to think of all of the reasons I might be so lethargic without resorting to WEBMD with a list of my symptoms, because I just know it will tell me I have a tumor.
All symptoms always lead to tumors on WEBMD.
B is the only one, bless him, that is being as sweet as can be. I realized that he really is my "joy" boy, the boy that is always quick to find the good and bounce back from the not-so-good with immeasurable optimism. He is just joyful. His giggles and his smile and his love for all people and things is just such a privilege to see...even when he's a crankpot sometimes! We all have our days.
I'm going to force myself to get a little more reading in, and then I'm crashing AGAIN for what I hope is a super-restful night because I'm totally going to need it tomorrow.
Aubs
Ooey Gooey Love Stuff
I love a good rom-com as much as the next girl, but when you've been single for as long as I have, they seem to start losing their appeal. I mean, none of that stuff happens in real life, and if it does, then the other person is probably over-compensating for something.
Years and years ago, a friend of mine had found what seemed like the "ideal" partner. He watched all of the girly movies she wanted to watch, performed over-the-top romantic gestures, and totally put her on a pedestal. They married and began their happily ever after, only something was off. It started to go downhill, gradually then landslide-ish...and then she found out he was addicted to porn.
Yeah, porn. Sadly, she's not the only friend I've had who has lost a spouse/boyfriend/partner to an addiction they had no desire to control. And, yes...for the record, I totally see porn as an addiction. My own ex (one of them, anyway...maybe two) was addicted to it, too. He joked around about it all the time, but I started to see that, although he was joking, there were still tons of porn sites popping up in our browser history. He wasn't so good at hiding it...or anything for that matter, but that's an entirely different story.
I watch movies like "The Holiday" and a tiny part of me thinks, "Wouldn't that be great? Wouldn't it be so nice to fall in love in a Hollywood-esque fashion?" But the much bigger part of me knows that's not even remotely accurate. Love is messy and complicated and ugly at times. It's raw and real and sacrificial. It's selfish and selfless all the same time WHILE it's emotionally fulfilling and aggravating. Oh, and maybe a tad on the confusing side, just for funsies.
I make it sound like I've been in love multiple times in my life, but honestly? It's just been once. Once upon a time, I was in love. Oddly enough, this man was never anyone I had a relationship with (although I did consider it from time to time), and I am absolutely one who has chosen to settle. Twice. Three times if you want to be TOTALLY technical, but I choose not to be...it's not worth it.
I know life and love aren't like a Hollywood movie script, or overly sweet like one of those dang Hallmark movies that get me...every.single.time. I know they aren't, but sometimes I just wish they could be, just for a minute or two, but not during the beginning stages. Everybody puts their best [romantic] foot forward at the beginning. I'm talking about in the middle of it; smack dab in the middle of the "no make-up, same sweats for days, cold and flu season, can't move off the couch nor do I want to" stage. The "you've seen me at my worst...just kidding, here's some more so see if you can handle THIS" stage.
'Cause love during those stages? That's what really counts.
Aubs
Years and years ago, a friend of mine had found what seemed like the "ideal" partner. He watched all of the girly movies she wanted to watch, performed over-the-top romantic gestures, and totally put her on a pedestal. They married and began their happily ever after, only something was off. It started to go downhill, gradually then landslide-ish...and then she found out he was addicted to porn.
Yeah, porn. Sadly, she's not the only friend I've had who has lost a spouse/boyfriend/partner to an addiction they had no desire to control. And, yes...for the record, I totally see porn as an addiction. My own ex (one of them, anyway...maybe two) was addicted to it, too. He joked around about it all the time, but I started to see that, although he was joking, there were still tons of porn sites popping up in our browser history. He wasn't so good at hiding it...or anything for that matter, but that's an entirely different story.
I watch movies like "The Holiday" and a tiny part of me thinks, "Wouldn't that be great? Wouldn't it be so nice to fall in love in a Hollywood-esque fashion?" But the much bigger part of me knows that's not even remotely accurate. Love is messy and complicated and ugly at times. It's raw and real and sacrificial. It's selfish and selfless all the same time WHILE it's emotionally fulfilling and aggravating. Oh, and maybe a tad on the confusing side, just for funsies.
I make it sound like I've been in love multiple times in my life, but honestly? It's just been once. Once upon a time, I was in love. Oddly enough, this man was never anyone I had a relationship with (although I did consider it from time to time), and I am absolutely one who has chosen to settle. Twice. Three times if you want to be TOTALLY technical, but I choose not to be...it's not worth it.
I know life and love aren't like a Hollywood movie script, or overly sweet like one of those dang Hallmark movies that get me...every.single.time. I know they aren't, but sometimes I just wish they could be, just for a minute or two, but not during the beginning stages. Everybody puts their best [romantic] foot forward at the beginning. I'm talking about in the middle of it; smack dab in the middle of the "no make-up, same sweats for days, cold and flu season, can't move off the couch nor do I want to" stage. The "you've seen me at my worst...just kidding, here's some more so see if you can handle THIS" stage.
'Cause love during those stages? That's what really counts.
Aubs
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)