Fall Sports (and what they mean to me)

Fall is my season.  I love the way the leaves change and the way the wind (ideally) is all cool and blustery and knocks the leaves off the trees in a whirlwind of color that makes me think of hoodies and bonfires and cozy cups of coffee and

FALL. SPORTS.

This year (as always) N is playing baseball in the fall.  He's playing for a club team that is playing both fall league and fall tournament games.  I'm not super thrilled about the late games on Thursday nights (it makes for rough Friday mornings), but I can't even lie about how excited I was alllllll day on Thursday in anticipation of the first doubleheader of the season.  The Coppell Baseball Club (CBC) did not disappoint.

So, yeah...they were all pretty nervous, and no...they hadn't had a practice with all of the members of the team in a long time, and there were a few new players (N included even though he did fill in for part of the summer season), but they did us all proud.  They played like a well-oiled machine once they got warmed up, and they just worked so well together!  One of the best things about this team is how much they encourage each other.  Their positivity could put a lot of adults to shame.  And now, a brief recap:

Game 1: (CBC was the home team) CBC was down by 5 early in the game, but got it together and managed to rally for a total of 7 runs, winning the game 7-6.  The boys played hard and had a rocky start, but they came together and really worked as a team to hold their opponents to a single run after the first inning.
Game 2: (CBC was the home team again...yay, coin toss!)  Again, CBC had a rocky start: the pitcher hit the very first batter with his first pitch and walked a few while getting into his groove.  A guy bigger than N hit a triple, so 3 runs scored, but that was about all they did for the remainder of the game.  MEANWHILE, CBC got two outs pretty quickly, and held it together to score 4 runs in the bottom of the first.  The second inning was 3 up, 3 down for the visiting team (all outs at first by my super-awesome first baseman), but CBC had bases loaded in a matter of minutes, and went all the way through the batting order in the bottom half of the second, with the second inning ending 10-3.  The umps finally called the game in the 4th with a final score of 16-3, and the boys were pumped!  We got to go home early, and going home early with big wins makes us all happy!

Friday morning wasn't as bad as it could have been (thanks to the earlier end to the game), so I consider the week a success.  When we woke up this morning for a 9:00 am practice (a "treat" for the great effort on the field this week), everyone was thrilled to feel cooler temperatures and a breeze!  It made the 4 hours of practice go by like NOTHING!  Afterward, N and I met half the team for lunch, aka team bonding. 

I dropped N at home to shower and relax and I headed to football practice!  B is playing flag football this year, and he missed practice earlier this week while battling a sinus infection.  Since their season starts next weekend (GO COWBOYS!), his coach called an additional practice today to get ready for Saturday.  It was awesome to see him out there, catching the football, throwing a pretty dang good spiral, and working on the passing drills.  He is such an athletic kid anyway, but it's really fun to see him out there doing something that he really seems to enjoy. 

His coach is also pretty great...he has a lot of patience and a lot of great ideas, and never-ending energy!  B got his jersey tonight, too, and he was so excited about it!  I wouldn't be surprised if it ends up being his clothing choice for school picture day on Tuesday!  Since he's not playing in our town (he's playing in the town his dad and stepmom live in), I don't know any of the kids, but got to know a few names this afternoon...he's got a pretty good team from what I can see!  I can't wait to see them in action!

My phone was blowing up all day today with sports updates: Starts, Score Updates, Final Scores, etc.  I love this time of year...I love it when the teams I follow win, and I cringe when they lose.  With college football starting (my favorite kind of football...sorry, NFL), and baseball season heating up with the race to the postseason (hands down, my favorite time of the year), it makes for a very happy Aubs...

If only this pesky homework wasn't in the way.  My calendar is filling up, my washer and dryer are full of hoodies in anticipation of the cooler temperatures to come, and I can't wait for fall to FINALLY arrive.

Here's hoping it'll actually make an extended appearance this year!

Aubs

"Stuck in my head"

Remember how I said I had an interesting, albeit highly inappropriate, word vomit in mind and I decided to forgo it in order to preserve my dignity and save me from future embarrassment?  Okay, good.  Me either.

No, really.  For the last month or so, I've found myself listening to a select playlist (of 348) songs as I'm falling asleep at night. I'm not really sure why...the last time I HAD to listen to music to fall asleep I was a little kid.  I shuffle it each time I turn it on, but as I'm drifting off to sleep, I hear the same song at least 3 out of 5 nights:

"You're like a song stuck in my head,
Going round and round again.
No, I can't shut it off, I can't make it stop.
I remember the last words you said.
You're like a song stuck in my head."

I like to think my playlist is has a good mix of country, rock, hip hop, r&b, and classic rock, but it's pretty heavily padded with country music.  I can't help it...and why should I?!

And while I do tend to get a certain "song" stuck in my head from time to time, I try really hard not to because I am self-sabotaging when it comes to me and "songs."  My track record is astounding.

Moving on...today I spent the day as a music teacher at B's elementary school.  The actual music teacher had me sub for her a few times last year, and as soon as she knew she had a training day, she made sure I took her place.  It was nice to see some familiar faces from last year, and even better to know that B had no idea I was even there until after some of his friends were in my class.  One of the little girls also transferred to this school this year, and when she saw me, I got a squeal and a squeeze!  It made my morning!

There were a lot of fun activities, and spending an hour with each grade (K-5) is usually just enough to remind me that I'm built to teach older children.  You know, the kind who can tie their own shoes, use the bathroom on their own, wipe their own noses, and who won't burst into tears if their best friend tells them they can't go to their birthday party because they went down the slide first.

Oh, the drama.  Also, it poured down rain on me this morning, and I just realized I left my sock monkey umbrella in the music room.  GRRRRRR! 

The good thing about some of the classes is that they breeze through the plans we have super fast.  In a few classes, they got to do their own lesson and one of the others, which sounds like a lot of extra work, but it was fun!  Two grade levels were learning about composers and conductors, so we listened to six different theme songs composed and conducted by John Williams.  I mean, there are A TON OF THEM (Something I knew, but I didn't know there were that many...).  We listened to Star Wars (Duh), Jaws (Duh), Harry Potter (Duh), Hook (Didn't know that one), Superman (Never really watched it), and Jurassic Park (Duh).  One of the classes asked if he was dead, so I googled him and said, "Nope, he's still alive and kickin' at 83!"

That made them laugh.  I have no idea why.

Anyway, there was only one class that had issues, and they stuck to my motto: "Go big or go home."  They got a speech from me, one from their music teacher (who stuck her head in on her way to her next session), one from their teacher, and one from the assistant principal.  In my speech, I managed to terrify them with stories of 6th grade and insta-detention if you act up for a substitute.  (They were 5th graders.)

The looks on their faces were hilarious!

Somewhere towards the end of the day, I got a text from my older kid: "You left a spoon out of my lunch. AGAIN."

Dude, drink your fruit cup.  You'll live.  Or walk over to get a spoon.  Or check your lunch before you leave.  I actually thought I was doing him a favor because the only plastic spoons I have are hot pink, but I guess a hot pink spoon gets the job done.

Just as I was about to put my phone away, it beeped again.  Thinking it was N with some other complaint about his lunch, I checked it.

It was the song.

Stuck. In. My. Head.

(Going round and round again)

Aubs

Middle School Sucks

Tonight I thought I'd sit down and word vomit whatever was on my mind, but the topic on my mind doesn't really seem appropriate for the interwebs, so...um...

School started roughly two weeks ago.  Last Friday, one kid missed school with a sinus infection.  He was miserable this morning when I got him up for school, but he went.  His dad picked him up for me after school and took him to purchase football cleats.  Apparently, he fell asleep in the car and woke up feeling terrible, so he stayed over there tonight.  The relationship I have with B's stepmom and dad is a unique one.  We work ridiculously well together.  We don't always agree, but with the schedule we keep, we have to be adaptable.

To me, it's a lot like a marriage.  Clearly, I'm not the expert on this topic, but I'm already putting my Sociology: Marriage & Family class to good use.  We collectively ebb and flow; one of us assumes more responsibility while the other deals with stuff they have going on, and vice versa.  It can come to an ugly head every once in a while...primarily when all of our schedules conflict and somebody has to cancel or reschedule.  A lot of the time this is me, and although it can be an inconvenience to reschedule or plan around something that comes up unexpectedly, I always do it without hesitation.

He's my baby boy.  It's what you do.

The other kid rarely gets sick, but when he does, he knows how to go big.  This year started off with a major bang for him.  As an 8th grader, he has the option to take a foreign language (Spanish) for high school credit.  It's the most difficult class offered at his school, and he's not really giving it a chance.  He's a perfectionist (I don't know where he gets it), and if something doesn't come easily to him the first time he tries, he writes it off and pretends it doesn't exist.  Case in point: Math for the last 2 years.

Amen, brother.  I'm right there with you on that one.

Anyway, last night everything he'd been bottling up for the last couple of weeks just exploded.  I heard things I'd never heard from him before, and all of his anger and frustration was aimed at me.  I get it.  You always blame the people who are up in your business all the time, but those people?  Well, they're probably the ones who care about you the most.  While my boy was in tears telling me that there was nobody who cared about him, tears were streaming down my face as I listened to this hurt and broken boy-in-a-man's-body.  As I named the people who would have his back anytime he needed them, I made sure to choose people who weren't family.  The argument had already been made "They have to...they're related to me."  And as much as I wanted to, I knew that wasn't the time to teach the lesson about how just because someone is related to you doesn't automatically mean they support you."

So, after he finally stopped sobbing and had hiccupped himself to sleep, I turned on the hall light, and looked at his face.  Even in sleep, it was clear that there was hurt and fear and self-hate.  And so I did what I need to: I leaned my head against his bed and I prayed.  I prayed until I was yawning and my foot had fallen asleep.  And then I went into my room where I had stationed my little and looked at his face: peaceful, relaxed, and taking up all of the space.  I crawled into bed next to him and I prayed until I fell asleep. 

When I woke up this morning, I knew three things: 1. Things were going to change around here. 2. N needed today to regroup. and 3. I called his counselor at school and talked to her for a good 20 minutes.

The hard truth is that middle school is probably one of the worst times in a kid's life.  I know it was crazy-awkward for me, but I LOVED the people...one of the major benefits of spending my middle school years in a small, close-knit community northwest of Wichita, KS!  There are so many changes, not just physically but mentally and emotionally, too.  The self-labeling begins, and then the labeling of other people begins, and middle school kids are brutal.

And now that I think about it, my other word vomit would have not only been less "heavy," but also wildly entertaining, albeit entirely inappropriate. 

Perhaps tomorrow...I should have a wealth of new material after filling in for the music teacher at our elementary school!

Aubs

There is no magic number...

What is it with the ridiculous definition of beauty these days?  It seems like you can’t turn around (or refresh your Facebook feed) without seeing a new commercial/video/rant about beauty.  I’m all for playing ball like a girl, and I cringe when I see a supermodel with bones protruding from various parts of her body.

Permission to be completely real?  I could not care one teency little iota about the Kardashians.  There, I said it.  Beauty should not be defined as something that is universal.  Just as each of us are unique, so is our beauty.  It is so much less about the size of clothing we wear, and so much more about our state of mind. 

Beauty is not just limited to us women, either.  I have seen plenty of beautiful men in my life, and while some of them have been insanely attractive (to the point where I lose the ability to speak), the most beautiful men in the world are the ones who light up with pure joy when they see their kids after work, or lovingly show affection to their wives…just because, or who make sure that their mothers and grandmothers are appropriately fawned over.  That’s beautiful.  Men who treat women with respect because they are in awe of women (and maybe the slightest bit terrified) are beautiful.  Men who are dads when they don’t have to be are beautiful. 

There was a song on the radio today when I went to collect my children, and there was a lyric that really struck a chord with me (bonus points if you know the song):

“I see what beautiful is about
When I'm looking in
Not when I'm looking out”

And as I listened, I thought “Huh…”  I mean, wouldn’t it be so much better if we could all take this mentality and run with it?  Don’t get me wrong…I know there are people who think like this.  There are people who think everyone has their own sense of beauty, but globally we have some serious issues with body shaming.  It makes me glad I don’t have a daughter, and sad for all of those who do.

It doesn’t end there, with the female population…my boys have their own issues with their appearances and fitting in, but it’s not even close to the number of issues I remember having as a teenager.  I didn’t get it back then, and it makes even less sense now.  

Women have it in their heads that being a single digit size is the ultimate goal.  Man, when I was in middle school, and I’d read books about the blessed Sweet Valley High twins and their perfect size 6, 5’6” willowy frames, I was jealous.  Don’t even get me started on the insane fashion sense of certain members of the Babysitters Club, either.  That Claudia Kishi…what a fashion icon!  

Here’s what I say: If you’re happy and healthy, then go for it.  Learn to be confident and comfortable in your own skin.  And if you aren’t, then perhaps it’s up to you to embrace yourself, not just as a woman, but as a person who has value and depth.  Because a number or letter on a tag should never define anyone, even though it often does.  

I got into a car accident several years ago, and while I wasn’t seriously injured, I attended physical therapy for a while to get normal range of motion back in part of my body.  When I finished my physical therapy, I was feeling more fit and confident, so I kept it up.  Over the next year, I went from a double digit to a single digit, and I was thrilled with myself.  But when I look back on it, I was miserable.  Sure, I looked great, but I wasn’t really taking care of my body.  I wasn’t eating right, but hey…THAT NUMBER, THOUGH!

As I slowly put the weight back on, I began to have mixed emotions.  I was feeling more comfortable in my own skin as I ate the things I wanted and worked out on my terms…but as I had to pull out the larger sizes hiding in the back of my closet, I began to seriously shame myself.  It’s a slippery slope, trying to find where you’re the happiest; and not just the happiest, but the healthiest, too.  

My ultimate goal is not a number or a letter, but an overall state of wellness.  I want to be happy and healthy and present.  I want to eat the foods I want to eat, when I want to eat them, without having to worry about whether my jeans will fit.  (Okay, let’s be real…yoga pants.)  I want to be healthy and able to walk across campus or on the trails near my house without huffing and puffing.  I’d say I want to be able to run a decent distance without dying, but I’d be lying because running is not my thing, but MAN…wouldn’t it sound all good and goal-ish right about now?  Most of all, I want to be present in the lives of my children.  I can’t really do that if I don’t take care of myself, can I?

So, when I find myself lacking the motivation, I think of how vastly different their lives would be if I wasn’t around.  Where would they be?  Who would be filling my shoes?  Would they miss me as much as I’d miss them?  I hope we never have to find out.  

One of the most frustrating things about the whole body shaming/unrealistic expectations is that it doesn’t exclude anyone.  Someone who is super skinny (we’re talking they can stand sideways, stick out their tongue, and look like a zipper) may want nothing more than to have amazing curves and a little meat on her bones…but maybe she has a medical condition where she can’t gain weight.  Maybe an eating disorder holds her back.  Skinny girls don’t have it easy either.   And instead of being supportive of each other, we give each other grief by way of sidelong glances, obvious whispers, and judgment.  

I want to eat potatoes.  I want to enjoy an “All the way” Starbucks whenever I want.  I want to bake homemade bread and eat it while it’s still warm.  I. Want. Carbs.  But I also want to be healthy.  There’s a balance, and it’s different for each of us.  Somehow, somewhere along the way, I became more worried about how others would perceive me instead of how I see myself.  

Side Rant: WHAT IN THE WORLD IS UP WITH THE MEN IN THIS WORLD WHO CONSTANTLY ASK FOR PICTURES VIA TEXT IN VARIOUS STAGES OF UNDRESS???  I mean, have a little self-respect, ladies.  If you’re in a solid and committed relationship and you’re confident, rock on…but so often I feel like men prey on those who are self-conscious, asking for pictures whether they’re fully interested or not, just to see if the woman will deliver.  I don’t understand it.  I really don’t.  Because if you’re one of the women who do succumb to their requests, and they don’t respond, what a blow to your psyche.  You’re so much more valuable than that.  Who doesn't want to look good naked?  But it's not the perfect, non-sagging skin that makes you look good.  Y'all, it's straight-up confidence.

Remember that you have self-worth, and that there are people who love you and adore you in spite of the flaws you see highlighted every single time you look in the mirror.

Isn’t the way it always is?  We tend to see the very worst versions of ourselves.  Any zit, dark spot, fat roll, cellulite forest, chubby part…well, it sticks out like a sore thumb with a neon Vegas sign pointing at it saying, “LOOK AT ME! I’M HIDEOUS!”  Truth be told, I bet nobody else notices.  We’re far too caught up in our own imperfections, our own billboards of inadequacy.  It’s not worth it…but do you know what is?

Being real.  So be real.  Be you.  Nobody does you as well as you do. 

As for me, I just want to be real and learn to embrace all of my cellulite, thick thighs, and imperfections…and maybe I’ll get there.

Someday.

Aubs

W.W.L.G.D.

So here I sit…watching Rangers baseball on a sunny Sunday afternoon IN SEPTEMBER (How in the world is it September… and why can’t it be November or, at the very least, can we have some fall-like temperatures, for the love?), and you’d think I would have something to add to that sentence, but I’ve got nothing.  Are there other things I should be doing?  Absolutely.  But you know what?  I don’t want to. 

It’s the one part of being an adult that I really love…the choices.  I can choose to ignore my responsibilities and do what I want instead.  Does it end well?  Never.  Does it set a good example for my boys on how to make good life choices? (Insert crickets chirping here).  Um, no, although it's not like either of them are home at this exact moment, so who needs to be a good example?!  Does it ALWAYS result in a stressed out, frantic, monster Aubrey?  All signs point to yes.  

Let’s not kid ourselves here…I’ve had a productive morning.  I made a pot of coffee.  I went to church.  I promptly crawled back into bed (shedding various clothing items until I was comfortable) and watched a Hallmark movie while eating Special K waffles and drinking the coffee I forgot about earlier.  I even started a load of laundry.  Then I washed my face, threw my hair in a ponytail, and reapplied make-up using combos I wouldn’t normally use because who do I have to impress?  Oh, that’s right…me.  I’m pretty easy to please. 

Clarification: I think I'm pretty easy to please...you know, from my perspective and all that.  Just don’t ask anyone who has ever attempted to date me or, God forbid, fall in love with me (although it has yet to be proven that anyone has actually taken the plunge).  For them, I am NOT that easy.  But I have a pretty solid relationship with myself, however self-deprecating it may be at times...and me and myself?  We totally get each other.

Also on my “To Do” list today: The Netflix.  Earlier this summer (while I had a kid-free household for approximately 4 days which equates to control of the Xbox and Netflix), I started re-watching one of my favorite comedy-dramas laced with fast-talking, sarcasm, snark, witty hilarity, and obscure references.  Most men will never understand it, and most women will know exactly what I’m talking about…because, as a teen, who DIDN’T want to be Rory Gilmore and have an awesome mom like Lorelai?  How could anyone not think "W.W.L.G.D" when solving a parenting issue?  And as a young(ish), single mom, how could I NOT want to BE Lorelai Gilmore now?  Well, except for the whole “daughter” thing because I don’t think a daughter and I would jive too well…especially not as a single parent.  If I had an “H” word, I’d consider it.

Oh. My. Gosh.  I just said that out loud.  I mean…who says “jive” anyway?  (And y’all thought I meant the “H” word…bwahahahahaha)  Also, now that I think about it, I don't really want to be Lorelai Gilmore.  Look at how much of a mess her made-for-television "life" was.  I mean, I know "love" and "Aubrey" don't really go well together, but I genuinely hope I'm not THAT much of a disaster.  (I just watched the episode where Chris tells Lorelai he wants to be an "us" (for the 8 billionth time) while they're in Paris and recognized the frozen deer in the headlights look...one that's been on my face more than once in my life, I'm sure...)  I mean, she's a fictional character and any resemblance to anyone living or dead is entirely coincidental.  Right?

RIGHT?! 

I’m trying to decide which series I should revisit next…and I have some fun choices in mind: Boston Legal and Dawson’s Creek are leading the race, but I’m also contemplating trying something I’ve never seen before…like Scandal.  I know who Olivia Pope is because 70% of the people I know watch Scandal, but I’ve never taken the plunge.  I hear red wine and popcorn are involved, and I’m hesitant to dive in because I prefer a nice white and I’m not a fan of popcorn.

I’m just not sure how devoted I have to be to the whole “red wine & popcorn” or if it’s simply a state of mind.  Or a suggestion, perhaps?  It’s a daunting and perplexing scenario.  BUT, it would help me to successfully avoid a project I need to star…NO.  Focus.  But on what?  So many choices!  Then again, it's officially fall sports season, so the race to baseball postseason in upon us, and college football is kicking off (See what I did there?!), not to mention my children and their various sports.  I'm not sure when I'll have time to start a new series, so I may have to wait until Christmas time...like last year when I watched multiple seasons of Burn Notice, but only when I was making/wrapping Christmas presents.  Oh, good grief...Christmas. Presents. Ugh.

Digression...It's my strong suit.

During an obligatory “Getting to know you” discussion board for one of my online classes, the professor asked for our names, majors, favorite movie, and the top 5 songs on our playlist that day.  Y’all, I froze!  I mean, my name is easy and so is my major, but my favorite movie?!  I flaked.  I couldn’t think of anything that was my favorite, so I went with the Harry Potter movies since one of them was playing in the other room.  And then I read all of the other discussion board posts (I’ll get to songs in a minute), and wondered why I couldn’t have been more original.  

What IS my favorite movie?  What genre?  Why can’t I think of one?  Who am I?  It's like I don't even know who I am anymore...  Sheesh…  So, yesterday, as I was reading over my notes for my quiz for that class, I scrolled through the guide on tv to find something for background noise, and that’s when I saw it.  If you know me at all, you should know I love a good sports movie…when I forced N to watch “Field of Dreams” a couple of years ago, he thought I was the worst, until I wasn’t anymore (Same goes with “The Untouchables”).  So, it shouldn’t be a surprise that my favorite sports movie is, by far, “For Love of the Game.”  Or “Rudy.”  Or “The Rookie.”  Crap.  I can’t choose.  Also, I should note that I never really saw myself as a huge Kevin Costner fan before, but my movie choices seemingly prove otherwise.

Music was much easier, because I just went back and looked at the last 5 songs that played:

1. Something Like That – Tim McGraw (This one is almost always the first song on any playlist I have...I don't ever plan it that way, but it always seems to happen.)
2. Rap God – Eminem (How somebody can perform/rap/sing/talk that fast amazes me every single time.  Rap-bot, indeed.)
3. Peter Pan – Kelsea Ballerini (I know it's weird, but I always think of Robin Williams and Dustin Hoffman in "Hook" when I hear this song.  Rufio, Rufio, RU-FI-OOOOOOO!)
4. Aubrey – Bread (I feel this is pretty self-explanatory...a not so very ordinary girl or name. Duh.)
5. Miles – Christina Perri (Don't count the miles, count the "I love yous." I mean...come ON!)

Someone else posted that “Tyrone” by Erykah Badu was her favorite song, and I was like, “Oh, wow!  How could I have forgotten that song?!”  Needless to say, I found a lot of interesting song choices/songs I’d forgotten about (I'm pretty sure "Thong Song" was only in there to spark conversation and not a legitimate favorite. I hope.) in a discussion board with 116 participants and 344 posts, along with several I have no desire to explore...

I have to go find stuff to download now.  Ancestry.com can wait...I mean, it's not like those people are going anywhere!!

Aubs

Empty Promises

Well.

Remember when I said I was going to blog more frequently and get back in the swing of things, and I did it for approximately 8 seconds before life got in the way? Clearly, I'm full of empty promises. Let's take a moment to be impressed by those 8 seconds, shall we?

Moving on...I'll go into a brief recap of March-September, and we'll pick up where we left off.

March: School. Rain.
April: Rain. Rain. Rain.
May: Rain. More Rain.  Hey, look...still rain.
June: Less rain. Summer camp. Disaster haircut.
July: Happy Birthday, America!  TIIIIIIIIMBERRRRRR!  Happy Birthday, Aubrey!  Disastrous vacation. Smiles. Smashed car.
August: I have a teenager.  Why hasn't school started yet?  Why isn't there more than a 24 hour gap between when the boys start school and when I start school.  So. Many. Marker. Colors. On. The. Calendar.
September: What?  They have a day off ALREADY?!

Now that we're all on the same page, I'll add some more details.  N started taking hitting lessons from a really great coach at the beginning of May, and it dramatically improved his swing within the first lesson...not that anyone on his team would have known that because it rained for approximately 18,000 days in a row, and the baseball season was actually "the baseball season that wasn't."

At the end of May, my dad had a stroke.  It was mild, and he has fully recovered, much to the amazement of his doctors (he was back at work within a couple of weeks), but he has made some much-needed changes to his lifestyle and has dropped 30 pounds in the process.  I am so proud of him!  While I was taking care of him, the man who had been giving N hitting lessons text me to see if N could join his team for practice.  The next thing I know, N has walked onto this team, and now we're gearing up for a year that is going to be crammed full of baseball.  It's glorious!

B has been trying to figure out something he wants to do, a sport of some kind, and he decided on one: allergy shots.  Okay, I'm kidding, but in order for him to do any kind of outdoor activity, allergy shots had to become part of the equation.  We decided the cluster method would work best for him, so in the last 4 weeks, he's had 3 months and 1 week of allergy shots...and then a sinus infection.  I'm hoping not only his quality of life will improve, but that he'll be able to be outdoors for extended periods of time without looking like someone used him as a punching bag.  And it needs to happen soon because he signed up for Flag Football this fall!  One practice in, and he's pretty sure he's out to take Tony Romo's job.  His team is the Dallas Cowboys, and he found himself playing quarterback during the first practice.  He's going places!  He also started at a new school this year (same district), and he is LOVING it!  It makes all of his parents so glad because last year went from okay to awful to a little better to great when he moved classrooms AND I decided we'd move to a different attendance zone.  It was an awesome decision on my part.  Yay, Aubs!

As for me, I'm finishing my Senior year at UNT and looking forward to getting into my own classroom within the next year (fingers crossed) at my alma mater.  Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd become a teacher or want to teach at the school from which I graduated, but life is bizarre like that!  I'm taking a bizarre mix of classes this year, which isn't really that bizarre, but I like the word.  I'm taking two online classes: Sociology of Disaster (Any class where two of the major assignments are playing "Disaster Monopoly" and watching any movie about a disaster and writing a response about it is pretty much a keeper in my book!), and Sociology of Marriage & Family.  I've taken some variation of this class before (twice), and I'm hoping the third time's a charm and something sticks because...let me tell you...the boys have decided Mom doesn't need to be single any longer. (Insert massive eye roll here.)  I'm taking an early American Lit class, which has mostly consisted of "Hey, Christopher Columbus...thanks for bringing syphilis to America!"  I'm also taking a Local History class, subtitled "Murder, Money, & Mystery in the United States" which is focusing specifically on the mass hanging in Gainesville, TX in 1862.  Please note people are hanged, not hung.  I mean, they can also be hung, but that tends to refer to a certain part of male anatomy, and that is NOT the subject matter of the class.  The professor made that extremely clear during the first class.  I still laugh because I have the maturity level of a teenager.

Speaking of teenagers...N turned 13 at the beginning of August.  This happened about a week after he went on a trip with his paternal grandmother and came back a full head taller than me.  I've had to purchase new clothes for him in varying sizes of "man child" multiple times this summer, and don't even get me started on shoes.  He outgrew me in 5th grade, and B's hovering on passing me by at the beginning of 4th grade!  With B the perfect height for a chin rest at the age of 9, I've come to the conclusion that I obviously have very tall children.


Because. I. Am. Not. Short.

At the end of July, I had a "Best Day/Worst Day" that was for the record books.  To set it up for you, N had gone to San Diego with his paternal grandmother...only they were flying standby and couldn't get to San Diego, so they flew to Los Angeles and then to San Francisco...and it all went downhill from there.  The week I had been promised (one week alllllllll to myself) ended up being 4 days.  That exact same day, I reconnected with one of my favorite people on the planet, someone I hadn't had any communication with in almost 10 years, and thinking about how that transpired STILL puts a smile on my face!  I had been looking for this person on Facebook for. EVER. (the whole reason I signed up for the damn thing in the first place was because this person sent me approximately 1.5 million invitations to "just try it out!"), and hadn't had any luck finding them.  Until that day.  When a mutual friend posted something and tagged them in it. My jaw dropped to...I don't know...Mexico, and I clicked "Friend Request." Within about 13 seconds, I had an "OMG, how're you doing?" and the rest is history!  Years, y'all.  Years.

So, I'm grinning from ear to ear, as one tends to do when memory lane opens a brand new exit, and go to pick up my hungry, tired, irritated, weary traveler from the airport.  We're literally around the corner from our house, and I'm explaining my recent reconnection (he's interested in the story, by the way...I wasn't just rambling), when a red Cadillac pulls out in front of me.

(Now, pretend I'm making car sounds) Swerve. Brake. Swerve. CRASH. EEEEEEEE.

Very realistic.  I'm not sure what he was thinking, but the front left side of my car was missing and the back left wheel on his car was at an odd angle.  Super fun.  Everyone was fine, but he insisted on an ambulance, and long story short...it cost me $135 to have the car towed less than 2 blocks.  It was awesome.  My insurance company jumped right on repairs (although his insurance company ultimately accepted fault), and I fell in love with my rental.  I wanted to keep my rental.  I miss my rental.  So do the boys.  It had fantastic rear air.  It still has to go into the shop again from where the tree in my backyard fell into the side of it (yes, really), so I'm kind of hoping that my rental and I can be reunited.

It'll feel so good.

Yeah, I went there.

Aubs

Happy Birthday, Mom!

So, today my mom turned 60.  She's not really wanting to announce it to the world, but she should flaunt it because she looks fabulous.  She was feeling shrimp for lunch, so we went to Joe's Crab Shack for some seafood:

We had calamari for an appetizer, something neither of my boys have ever tried.  I told B it was like chicken and he tried it, almost unwillingly.  N was a little more agreeable, and then I revealed what it was.

Squid.  They ate friend squid.  B looked like he was going to vomit, and N deemed it a worthy appetizer.  He swore he wasn't hungry when we got there, but he inhaled his fish & chips and was scrounging around for leftovers at the table.  He was not, however, interested in my cedar roasted salmon.  Good!  More for me! 

All in all, it was a delicious meal with some pretty great company.  Afterward, I took N back to his dad's for a few hours and B and I came home to do some homework and relax.  I'm so over this rainy weather...and I know it isn't going anywhere anytime soon, but it would be nice if it would. Stop. Now.

Nothing else eventful occurred over the weekend...aside from me getting super-irritated by something incredibly minor.  It's not even worth it for me to go into it. 

Now.  Maybe later.

Aubs