I'm entirely too young to have a middle schooler.

It's true.  Tonight, at the "Incoming 6th Graders Parent Meeting," an older man was sitting behind me, and when the principal announced the t-shirts that boasted "Class of 2020" on the back, he said, "That makes me feel really old."  I looked back at him, smiled, and said, "Right?!"  He stared at me, dumbfounded, then said, "I thought you were the babysitter."

And right about then, my life was complete.  As we were pulling into the parking lot, I told N, "I'm entirely too young and too hot to have a middle schooler." and we both promptly burst out laughing.  It was just funny.  What wasn't funny, though, was the serious lack of electives options the 6th graders have.  There are a total of 7 choices, and they each have to pick 3.  N is not a band/choir/theatre person, so that leaves him with art as his fine arts elective.  Then he has to choose between P.E., a Math/Science Investigations thing, and/or a Creative Reading/Writing Workshop.  All year.  Three of them.  He's not that thrilled...

The counselor claims more options are available in 7th grade, but she didn't seem too sure of herself either.  After it was over, N's dad joined us for dinner at Pei Wei, where I got the most bizarre fortune in my fortune cookie.  Ever.

After we left, N and I had the following conversation:

Me: Are you seriously eating a fortune cookie in my car?
N: I'm addicted!
(Insert loud crunch and flying fortune cookie pieces here)
Me: See? This is exactly why we do NOT eat in my car.
N: Yeah...that was rather unFORTUNate.
(Insert laughter that rivals Squints on The Sandlot)
Me (laughing): And that pretty much seals the deal. You're my child.
(Maniacal laughter continues, compliments of N)
Me: ...and you're a little psycho.
N: I get all my psycho from you.

I have to tell you, he and I have been quite the comedy duo today.  I love times like this...but sometimes they go a little too far...like when he says he's staying up until 10:00, and I say "NO" and he thinks I'm joking and I have to get mad.

I don't particularly care for that portion of life.

Nor do I care for this cough that keeps holding on...it makes it really hard to rock out in my car.

Aubs

Just call me "Sloth"

I took the boys to school this morning, and came back home to get in bed.  I slept until 2:05, and it was glorious.  Simply glorious.

I woke up well-rested, but in a horrible mood.  The boys came home from school in horrible moods.

I think I've asked at least 4 times this evening if it's a full moon...the mood just hadn't made its appearance yet.

Practice also led me to believe it might be a full moon.  The boys were all over the place: not focusing, messing around, being lazy.  Their coach, who rarely gets angry, got really upset with them and told them "Practice isn't for messing around...it's for being serious.  We have a lot to do."

Fifteen minutes later, when he was hitting balls for fielding practice and smashing them way out into nowhereland: "Sorry, I'm just messing around."

I had to speak up with an, "Excuse me, Mr. Serious.  Practice isn't for messing around...it's for being serious."

And there wasn't one person NOT laughing. 

When N tried to close the trunk of my car on me, there wasn't one person laughing...there was one person (me) who was extremely pissed.

Imagine that.

And now, I'm ready to go to bed again.  In fact, I can't wait.  And I'm hoping tomorrow will find me back to my jovial self.  Because crankpot?  It's not my favorite feeling.

Ever.

Aubs

Post-Relay

Y'all.  I have no idea how I'm even conscious right this second.  This will be brief.  I promise.

You can stop cheering now.  No, really.  Stop.

It was hot yesterday.  I have a fantastic t-shirt tan/sunburn on my arms.  It's not cute.  But it was for cancer, so I can deal.  My mom made it out in time to announce herself as a survivor, and then she did the Survivor lap while everyone cheered her on.  Then she and I did the caregiver/survivor lap and looked for our Luminaria bags along the track.  I found hers, but couldn't find any of the others.  I found them later...they hadn't been put out yet.

There were a lot of things that were entertaining: Zumba, races, different booths, and there were a TON of Coppell's youth out there.  It made for entertainment as they walked by, bits and pieces of their conversations mixing with others.  We laughed a lot.  B had a blast: he was running all over the place, never stopping long unless sugar was involved.  N found some buddies from school, and they played frisbee and catch and a zillion other things.  At one point, N and two of his friends were doing a 4-legged race lap, and B and his friend were doing a 3-legged race lap.  It was hilarious!

B finally passed out a little before 1:00, and N was playing his DS under a blanket.  It got cold and damp really fast.  I put B inside a tent, and N left with his dad.  At 3:30, I was cold, tired, and hacking, and I said, "I'm done."  Plus, my ears were "bleeding" because of this "band" that was on stage.  They butchered every single song they played, and kept "encoring" themselves.  It was horrid.

I loaded up all of my stuff and B, then we went home.  I finally drifted off around 4:30 or 5:00 and my precious B woke me up at 7:57 a.m.  Thanks, B!  We had a lazyish morning, but N had tryouts for All Stars (a tournament baseball team), so we had to meet up with him and get to that.

Fast forward to 2 hours of sleep and 2 hours outside on a hot, sunny, Sunday afternoon.  It was not my happiest afternoon, but N had a great tryout.  We should know in a few days if he made it or not, but his coach is really playing him up as the tournament team's catcher.  We'll see.  I know N would love it he made it.

I'm forcing myself to stay up as late as possible in hopes that my schedule will get back on track. 

Yeah.  Right.

Aubs

Pre-Relay

This one is going to be super early and super short.  I started my morning at 7:30, which was probably a poor choice on my part.  N had a game at 10:45, so we had to be at the ball fields a little after 10:00, and I knew B and my mom would be coming not long after the game began. 

I am so impressed with our U10 Giants.  They've really come together as a team, and when they all show up, they really do well together.  Only one of our players was unable to attend this game, but the rest of them were ready to go!  N has essentially become the catcher for the team.  Nobody else wants to do it.  Well, one other kid has expressed interest, but he also loves to pitch, so N usually catches for the majority of the games.  He loves it, and he's gotten really good at it.  It's so awesome as a parent to see him grow and excel.  All of these boys have really grown from the start of the season to present.  I'm like a proud mama of all 10 of them!

When my mom and B showed up, the Giants were up 5-0, and they never looked back.  I had to leave to take B to his game, but the final score was something like 12-3, and N and the pitcher had a conference on the pitcher's mound.  Nothing was said, aside from "Dude, act like we're being serious.  DON'T LAUGH!" but it intimidated the other team like nobody's business.

Meanwhile, in the U7 league, the majority of our players were afraid of the ball after last night's accident.  My B kept jumping out of the batter's box each time the pitch came towards him.  It was so frustrating, and I felt so bad for him.  The coaches are seriously frustrated, too.  I can't say I blame them.  Maybe 7 year-olds should wear face guards too...

Now we're home, packing up for the Relay.  I'm pretty sure I'm already exhausted and we haven't even gotten there yet.

Aubs

C.R.U.N.C.H.

I was sitting in class this morning, zoning out while my professor told another story that was a total tangent of whatever it was we had been talking about, and realized if B could stay at my mom's tonight, he could sleep in a little, and N and I could go to his game on time and then they could meet us there.  B has decided that he's going to stay up all night at the Relay for Life with me on Saturday night, and since he has a 12:00 game tomorrow and we won't have time to take a nap, I figure the more sleep he can get, the better.  So, I text my mom...and she didn't respond.  Grrr!  When class ended a little later, I decided I'd go around the corner to her office and pitch my idea to her.  As I was getting ready to walk out of the classroom, my professor was talking to another student about something course-related.  He saw me leaving, and asked the student to wait a moment.  He nodded, confused, and the professor turned to me and said, "Okay, so here are a few tips I have for you to teach your boys about throwing." and proceeded to give me some tips on how I can help increase velocity and accuracy.  The other student just stared, and I almost giggled.  I love my former baseball coach professor.  He's just the sweetest!

I went over to my mom's office, and she thought it sounded like a great idea.  B is her grandson who loves to play board games, and he thinks his Nana is the best opponent.  I told her we could meet up after B's baseball game this evening, and make the exchange.  She agreed, and I was relieved that I would only have one kiddo to deal with tonight while I still wasn't feeling the absolute best.

I feel better, don't get me wrong...much, MUCH better.  But trying to wrangle two kids through baseball tonight, baseball tomorrow, AND the Relay?  I don't think I'd survive.  Okay, I might survive, but I'm not sure both of them would.  Since N won't be staying all night at the Relay (he has tryouts for a tournament team on Sunday afternoon, so he needs his rest), I figured getting him up earlier and going to his game would make the most sense.  Plus, I'm the team mom (I'd call my self the "hub" but that sounds a little presumptuous), and I have to make sure everyone has made the changes they need to make to their helmets...namely, putting face guards onto them.

Speaking of which...in the U7 league that B plays in, it's coach pitch.  The coaches always feel bad when they hit a kid on the leg or the hand or the back, but tonight the coach of the other team had to have felt AWFUL.  This kid was up to bat, and he threw the ball, and it hit him...right smack dab in the middle of his FACE.  I could hear it crunch from my seat in the bleachers, and there was a horrified gasp from pretty much everyone as the kid grabbed his face and started screeching in pain.  That poor little boy...he wouldn't let the coach touch his face, and man, I don't blame him one bit.  His mom ran out there and took him off to the side.  Someone got him a popsicle and an ice pack, and they got the bleeding to stop.  I didn't see how bad it was, but it HAD to hurt.  That coach kept pitching, but ended up hitting a couple more batters.

Because that kid was injured, they didn't have enough players, so N stepped in to "catch" for the opposing team.  That's when he got hit by OUR coach in the chin with the ball (I had just put his face guard back on) AND on the next pitch, his own brother (who was up to bat) hit him in the chin AGAIN with the bat.  He was not very thrilled by the time the game was over...but, to be fair, he DID volunteer.

Our Rangers lost the game, 15-10, but my B backed up the other B at first base and made a great out to end an inning.  He was so proud of himself!  He also acted as "pitcher" for a couple of innings, and had a blast.  He made a couple of good throws, but all of our boys were zoning out on the field tonight.  I hope they get some good rest tonight for our game tomorrow.

I know my B will.  He was headed to Nana's to climb a couple of trees, play a couple of games, and go to bed so he could wake up in the morning and water plants.

He's so busy!

Aubs

Chicken soup is good for my soul, and so is President Bush

When I woke up this morning, after a NyQuil-induced sleep, I wasn't sure how I would feel.  I was rested, which is a new feeling for me, and I could tell my voice was on its last legs.  After I took the boys to school, I thought about going back to sleep, or even taking more NyQuil, but opted against it.  I caught up on email, read the blogs I follow, and watched the news.  I remembered the George W. Bush Presidential Center at SMU was being dedicated today, so I turned the television back on.  Imagine...being in the general vicinity of all five of our nation's living presidents all at one time!

I got a little teary thinking about all of the good that came from some of those men and their leadership.  I won't lie.  It was a moment I never would've expected.  Government and politics aren't really my thing.  Yes, I have a general idea of what's going on, and there are some things I am passionate about, but I focus more on the here and now and not the big picture.  I like to keep things in my own little bubble, folks.  It's safer here, and it always smells like Cherry Blossom from Bath & Body Works.  Who wouldn't love that?  I mean...aside from someone who doesn't like Cherry Blossom from Bath & Body Works, but I don't know who couldn't love that.

Tangent: Have you ever found the "smell" that seemed to be tailor-made just for you?  The scent that people smell and automatically associate with you, one that you might have never thought of on your own, but once you smell it, it's just...you?  That's Cherry Blossom for me.  It's weird.  It smells different on every person, but it just fits me.  And, lucky for me, I love it.  So it's a win all around!

Okay, then.

I also decided I really wanted some spicy chicken tortilla soup.  It's the best when you're sick and you can't breathe, but you want to rejoin the human race sooner rather than later.  Unfortunately, I was out of onion.  And Kleenex, because Kleenex are vital to the recipe.  So, I set the remainder of the Bush Library coverage to record, and I took off for Market Street by way of Target.  They're not close, but I really feel it's vital to visit both in case one has something the other doesn't.  Target had Kleenex.  Market Street had the greatness of three firetrucks full of firefighters and a few police officers...all shopping for food. 

Needless to say, it was a great shopping trip.  Lots to look at.

I got home and started the soup, then thought about writing a paper.  When I got over it, I cleaned up, set the soup to simmer, and decided I should look presentable for the Relay for Life meeting at school.  I packed a bag with Gatorade, crackers, and two video games, then took off for school.  After I got the boys situated, I listened to the rest of them discuss the Relay, and waited to be asked my opinion.  Yes, I know.  Very unlike me to wait...but I'm trying this whole "patience" thing on for size.  I'm not sure it's the right fit.

After the Relay meeting, we had an hour or two to kill before B's baseball practice, so we went home and the boys ate for at least an hour, and I complained about how they eat too much.  That's pretty much par for the course these days.  I dropped B and N at B's practice (I NEVER drop them, I always stay, but today, I just couldn't), and then went to my friend, Angela's, to drop off some soup.  She answered the door and said, "You didn't have to bring me soup.  You're the one who's sick."  This is one of probably a thousand reasons why we're friends.  She gets me, and I get her.  And that's awesome.  Because everyone should have at least one friend like that.  As an added bonus, our kids like each other, and she doesn't freak out during my children's moments of total insanity, and I don't freak out during hers.  We're kindred spirits.

And that's pretty great.

After I got home and got the boys to bed, I decided I should write my paper.  It needed to be about something I knew to be true, something I had firsthand experience with...and so I wrote about how terrifying it was to get a phone call from N telling me something was wrong with B, and the events that lead to B's admission to the ICU at Children's Medical Center last summer.  And I know, without a doubt, that it will be something others can relate to.

Because hearing news that something bad happened to your kid is any parent's worst nightmare.

Aubs

P.S. For the record, B is okay.  He's totally fine...but for a while, I was afraid he wouldn't be.  And then he started being a pain in the rear again, and I knew we'd turned a corner. 

This is why Mom should never be allowed to get sick...

It's official.  I'm about 37 hours away from losing my voice.  It's slowly going out on me, and although I have several boys who have gallantly offered to yell instructions for me, all but one of them have admitted that they may or may not yell out what I tell them to say.  So, I just do my best, and then double over in a hacking fit, which provides amusement for the people who know I'm sick and disproving looks from those who think I'm a walking ad for lung cancer. 

It's win-win...somehow.  I've been doing my best to rest as much as possible, but there's just so much I need to be doing right now.  It really is a crazy time for me: school years winding down, assignments all over the place, and the job hunt.  Oh, the job hunt.  I spent the majority of the day trying to see how long I could go without a coughing fit, and gearing myself up for a trip to Academy to get the clips for N's face guard for his batting helmet.  I didn't make it before they got home from school, so they "got" to come with me...and they were overjoyed.  Only, they weren't, even though I told them it would take approximately 3 minutes once we entered the store...and I was true to my word.  We were walking out in under 4 minutes, clips in hand.

After we got back home, they (sort of) played nicely together while I put the face guards back on the batting helmets.  Then, the arguing started again.  They were arguing when they walked in the door this afternoon, and it feels like all three of us have been arguing all afternoon/evening.  And that's really hard to do when your voice is on its way out the door...

When we got to batting practice, B wanted so desperately to play with his big brother, and I encouraged it.  I did NOT encourage them to be crappy to each other, but when I tried to quietly and inconspicuously get onto them, I had very little luck since my voice is hoarse and raspy and that carries.  B was embarrassing N so N was trying to return the favor.  And I was over it.  All of it.  Thankfully, other boys started showing up, and while it wasn't a full practice (only 6 were there), they managed to get some good time in together.  I hope.

While my boys and one of the other boys were playing catch, while we were waiting for his mom to arrive, I walked over to the batting cage where N's old coach was throwing batting practice.  He saw me walk up and said, "N really got to me on Saturday.  He's gotten really good."  I thanked him and said it was an intense game, and that our last game of the regular season was going to be something else.  He laughed, shook his head, and said, "It's going to be something alright.  Now I know what I'm working against."  I told him it caught me off guard when I heard him telling N he made a good catch...against his own team, and he said, "Yeah, I kind of got carried away, but man!  That was an awesome catch!"

When I told N about our exchange on the way home, that boy was grinning from ear to ear.  We got home and the hacking started in full force.  At one point, I was cuddled in bed with B and we were waiting for N to get in bed.  When he got in there, I was hacking, B was sniffling, and N was sneezing.

N: Hey, we sound like an orchestra!
Me: Yep, we kind of do!
B: Is an orchestra like a band?
N: Yeah, pretty much. (blows his nose)
B: Hey!  That sounded like a tuba!
Me: Hahaha, yeah, it kind of did.
N: I can play percussion on my stomach.
Me: B, percussion is drums and stuff.
B: Here, I'll play percussion!

And he farted.  A lot.  And loudly.  And then I left.  Smelly boys and too many giggles, and I was coughing up a storm.

They fell asleep really quickly after that.

Or maybe they passed out from the smell.  Either way.  It's really quiet.  And the Rangers are playing on the West coast!

Aubs