Oh, yay...finals!

As I wrap up my first semester of grad school, I’m working on an essay about how students learn.  To be fair, I haven’t even looked at the prompt (it’s been up since the start of the semester) until this week, which may be kind of dumb since the deadline is on Friday, but I work best under pressure, so I’m okay with my decision.  I am not, however, okay with the various subtopics that are supposed to be included because some of them are just kind of silly.  Once again, I feel like these topics are best suited for someone who has never stepped foot in a classroom.  I jokingly tell my family (or people who know me well enough to know that I’m not being obnoxious) that I’m either insanely smart, or the people in my class are insanely dumb because this semester has taken minimal effort.  It has definitely taken time, but the amount of effort has been significantly smaller than the amount of time.

 

This has allowed my brain to wander into various black holes that require time and effort, both to dig myself deeper, and also to dig myself out when I realize I’ve rerouted my priorities once again.  I was texting with a sweet friend yesterday, telling her about how a mutual friend was supposed to be a guest speaker in one of N’s classes.  We were discussing the topic (emotional intelligence) and it went a little something like this:

Her: I’m intelligent and I’m emotional!

Me: Any woman could rock that speaking engagement like nobody’s business.  It wound up getting cancelled, but I would’ve loved to listen in on that one!

Her: How about Mom, juggling 2 kids, graduating with honors, working on masters, subbing for middle and high school, baking brownies for baseball players, overachiever, amazing person.  So much more impressive and interesting.

Me: Who would be crazy enough to do all that?!  And thank you…you’re giving me entirely too much credit.

Her: I hope that big fat diploma is hanging in a gold frame when you walk in that door with a huge sign…LOOK WHAT I DID!!!!

Me: Oooooor it’s still in the envelope.

Her: NOT OK!!!! You’re a BIG DEAL

Now, it’s obvious why I adore her, right?  Who needs to boost their own ego when others are so sweet to do it for you?  BUT, I don’t really see it as a big deal.  Is it an accomplishment?  Absolutely.  I switched majors more times than I can count and still managed to graduate magna cum laude with an automatic acceptance into the grad program I chose, but I’m pretty sure that most people had the same experience.  And yes, I DID do it as a single parent, but I had serious financial help from my dad, and a couple of seriously amazing professors that I am blessed to call friends now that they are no longer my professors.  It just makes me wonder how different things would be if I had made up my mind as a much younger college student instead of one who decided to change directions as a single 30-something parent with two stubborn mules for children.

I know, I know…everything happens for a reason, and there is definitely a reason I waited as long as I did.  And even if I could do it differently, I’m not sure I would because all of the choices got me to where I am now, and I’m pretty much loving life.  Is it perfect?  Far from it…but it’s mine, flaws and all.  So tonight, while I worked on my essay, N’s dad came over to work on math because I take a hard pass on all things math.  As I listened to them attempt to work, then decide to take a step back, then attempt to work over the phone, I said silent prayers of thanks that math was not my “jam,” and also that my kid would rather fail than ask me for help on anything other than English, History, or Science.  Bless you, my child, for you take a whole lot of stress off of me by ignoring the fact that I exist 60% of the time.  

Things have been fairly quiet on the B-front these days.  He’s at his dad’s house this week since it’s my finals week and each class requires so much time.  But not effort.  Just so we’re clear.  It actually worked out really well for each household to flip flop weeks, so while that means almost two solid weeks without him at home, it means we’ll go into the holiday break together, which is always fun.  Speaking of holidays, it’s my second Christmas in a row without the boys.  Last year, I opted out of my Christmas Day because I had been fortunate enough to have the last three or four due to illness, scheduling conflicts, pre-existing plans, etc.  I spent a quiet morning at home, then went to celebrate and eat Mexican food with one of my friends before going over to an aunt and uncle’s to do the family thing.  I’m not sure what the day will hold this year, but I’m kind of looking forward to the peace and quiet.  I say that now…but I’ll be bored within 2 hours of being by myself.  It’s scientifically proven.

It will be nice to get through my finals this week and N’s exams next week so we can turn off all.the.alarms for a blissful 18 days.  I thought about going to Houston for Christmas, but I just saw my Seester and brother-in-law and dad for Thanksgiving, so that may be too much too soon.  We had a lot of family time from Tuesday-Saturday, let me tell you!  It was all good…but since we don’t often spend that much time together, I think everyone was ready for a little hula hoop (personal space) action after that.

You know what I haven’t even thought about yet?  Christmas.  Not even one little bit.  That should be fun and not at all stressful.

But I’ll worry about that tomorrow…or any time after Saturday.

Aubs

My brain...it's just everywhere

For some reason, I have spent a lot of time thinking about people I haven’t thought about in years…decades, even.  Maybe it’s the time of year, or maybe it’s just because I’m avoiding finals, but people who were HUGE in my life decades ago have been popping into my head for months.  It was one thing when they were just popping into my head randomly, but over the last several weeks, my boys and I have had at least a dozen conversations that have resulted in me verbalizing memories including these people, which has made each of them ask (on separate occasions), “Why don’t you hang out with them anymore?  They sound nice.”  

How do I answer that?  

1.       They WERE nice!

2.       We grew apart, like people do.

3.       I was probably at fault.

4.       I. DON’T. KNOW.

The truth of the matter is, don’t we all do stupid things and act like idiots when we’re teenagers?  Or in our 20s?  Or in our 30s?  Or…always?

Maybe I’m reeling with nostalgia because my oldest kid is walking the “hallowed” halls of the same high school where I met some of the people who would have a lasting impact on my life.  I mean…who knew that would happen?!  Maybe it’s because I’ve spent some time trying to figure out what is truly important and what matters most.  Maybe it’s because I’ve seen (and felt) how horrible it feels to be treated like crap, and realized that it is exactly what I did to those I cared about when I was an idiotic (and selfish) teenager/young adult/not-so-young adult.  But maybe, just maybe, it’s because I have realized that sometimes you create a friendship that has staying power…even if you don’t speak to each other often (or ever…like for decades…PLURAL), and those are always worth it.  I hope.

I’ve been thinking about those I consider close friends lately.  Sometimes I check out of interaction and check in to my own personal bubble.  Sometimes I forget to come up for air because it’s much easier and less people-y in my bubble, but that doesn’t make it right, and that’s when these people come into the equation.  They do breathing checks, send me ridiculous pictures or text messages that make me realize that I’m so absorbed in my own self-inflicted mess that I’m missing out on the good stuff.  It’s something I’m aware of now, and something I hope to do less of now that I know.

As I was avoiding the remnants of my homework earlier, I came across something that really resonated with me.  “I am a very strong believer that whoever is meant to be in your life will always gravitate back towards you, regardless of how far they wander.”  And, y’all, I choose to believe that is true.  I’m not sure if time heals all wounds or not, but I certainly hope so.

Besides…Facebook told me I’m going to be married and in love in 2017, so it HAS to be true.  I’m not really sure how that works because there isn’t even the hint of a blip on my radar, but you know Facebook.  It also says I will reconnect and rekindle an old friendship and might even get romantically attached.  I’m not sure how it knows this, but one thing is clear: It knows best.  

Please insert all the eyerolls here.

Let’s talk sleep deprivation, shall we?  At this exact moment, it is 1:51 AM, CST, and I am wide awake for no apparent reason.  This also happened a few times last week, at the most inopportune times.  Wednesday night, I needed to go to sleep early, so that’s obviously when I ended up googling all the people I previously mentioned because all of a sudden I JUST HAD TO KNOW.  What ever happened to my date for my Senior Prom?  How about that boyfriend I had during that time who was NOT my date for prom?  What about that girl who moved away after one year?  I wonder what my favorite co-worker during high school is doing now…what was her last name again?  Trying to force yourself to sleep when those questions start bouncing around is seriously difficult.  In fact, I couldn’t do it.  So, on the night before the biggest test of my semester (the test I needed to continue with grad school), I slept for approximately 47 minutes.  It was not my finest hour(s).  See, when I get tired, I get ridiculous.  Deciding that I need more information on these people who mattered greatly to me 15+ years ago, I wrote notes.  In cursive.  On cards.  And if I had address information for them, I took those envelopes out to the mailbox and dropped them in before I could give myself time to reconsider.

In hindsight, it could’ve been a kneejerk reaction.  Maybe.
(I genuinely hope these people remember that I was always a little kneejerk-ish, and totally NOT a creeper.)

It’s endearing, right?!  I mean…who wouldn’t love a handwritten note with a mini trip down memory lane?  The main problem I foresee with this situation is that my memory remembers a lot, especially small details, while most others will probably gloss over all of the memories that bring a smile to my face.

OOOOORRRRRRR, maybe my kids are right, and I need a social life.  I promised them I would consider being less lame after my finals.  I think they know I’m lying, but they’re pretending right along with me.  It’s like a Christmas miracle.  

But, I digress.  So, after my 47 minutes of sleep on Wednesday night, I went to take my test.  I didn’t take a break because I felt like it would be detrimental to my testing process, so I did all of the sections without stopping.  Only 2/3 of the score were available immediately.  I wasn’t surprised to see that I had cleared the required reading score by 30+ points, but almost cried when I saw I’d cleared the math score by 6 points.  I’ve never been a math person, but to do well enough to not have my grad school status in jeopardy on less than an hour’s worth of sleep?  I was so excited!  The other section is writing, which doesn’t ever seem to be a problem for me, but I have to wait a couple of weeks for scores, so now I get to be patient…which we all know is my strongest virtue.  

 I rushed straight home to toss and turn in my bed for a solid 90 minutes until I finally fell asleep.  Two hours later, I woke up, groggy, and then proceeded to stay up until 2:00 am because my brain decided to revisit all of the people from the night before and do a little, “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, SENDING NOTES TO PEOPLE YOU HAVEN’T TALKED TO IN ALMOST 20 YEARS?!  HOW WAS THIS EVER A GOOD IDEA? But…what about this person?  I think you forgot about him…”

At least I’m consistent?  Friday, I spent the day with some of my favorite 7^th/8^th grade students.  We had a truly excellent day, and I’m always grateful to spend time with them.  It’s a huge ego boost when students see me in the hall and ask (quite hopefully) if I’m a sub for one of their classes.  The excitement when I confirm I am is awesome, but the sad faces when I announce a name who is not one of their teachers breaks my heart, too.  

After school, I listened as several of my favorite teachers were recognized for all they do as nominees for Teacher of the Year, and got teary-eyed when my favorite Science teacher was given the honor.  Her family surprised her with anecdotes, both in person, and from afar, and as I listened, I was just so proud of all of the teachers who were nominated, and extremely grateful that the majority of them have taught one of my boys.  It is my hope that they will also have the opportunity to teach my B when he gets to middle school next year.

Throw in an 80s party on Saturday night and a day of homework today, and you’ve got yourself a pretty well-rounded few days.  N asked me to pick him up from a friend’s house on Saturday night, and I said, “I will come pick you up, but first you need to see what I look like because I don’t want you to be surprised.”  After I sent him the picture he responded with, “Why are you such an embarrassment?”

Suffice it to say, a milestone was achieved this weekend. 

I can’t wait to see what happens next!

Aubs

Most Hated Mom

I've intended to post so many times over the last month or two, but just haven't been able to get my act together.  I can make excuses, but that's just silly.  Life happens.  It's messy and wonderful and chaotic and hilarious and awful and sad and depressing and a total trainwreck, but it's YOUR trainwreck, so that automatically makes it awesome even if it doesn't always seem that way.  Right?

Over the last 6 school months or so, I've shared stories with teachers in the teachers lounge of various schools where I substitute teach, and it never fails: at least one person asks if I have a blog because it's funny and I should write it down.  I respond that I do, but then admit (shamefully) that it's been forever since I've updated.  Well, that's going to stop. 

Sure, my calendar is crazy chaotic.  I have a wall calendar that has a rainbow of colors scrawled across the days of the week.  Some weeks are worse than others, but it's a lot.  With both boys playing sports and practicing at least 1-2 times a week (not including individual lessons) and my full course load in grad school and doctor's appointments and substitute teaching, there's one color noticeably absent from my calendar...and that's hot pink.  You might be wondering what hot pink represents, and I'll tell you.  Hot pink is the color I designated for "Fun Stuff."  Y'all, my life is severely lacking when it comes to fun stuff.  For the month of September, there are approximately TWO things written in hot pink...and one of them is actually from August 28.  I just wrote it in the blank square because I'd already switched to September.  Both of the fun things were in the first week of September, and only one of them was super fun: lunch with a former professor in Denton. 

Anyway, now that we're a solid month into the school year, things have settled into some semblance of routine.  I'm not saying it's a good routine, but it almost kind of works.  I have a teenager who seems to think he can dictate his own everything because he's practically an adult and he doesn't need me for anything.  Oh, but can I make him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for him every morning because he's really bad at it and it takes too long and he doesn't care if he ever gets good at it because it's so much easier if I just do it so will I?

I've contemplated some disgusting concoction to get me "fired" from making sandwiches.  The possibilities in my head are AMAZING, but it's less fun if I'm not there to see the big reveal, so I've managed to control myself.  But just barely.

So, I do make sandwiches most days...mostly because he's less of a morning person than I am (and THAT is saying something), and also because I'm usually not rushing to get anywhere in the morning.  I've suggested pbj lessons in the evenings, but that's met with the most hysterical look I've ever seen.  If you know N, you can probably imagine.  It's an absolute "What the hell?" look mixed with terror and/or horror.  It's comical.  And he hates it when I burst out laughing, so it's an added bonus.

Meanwhile, B has finally settled into the whole "my bedtime as an elementary school student is different than my brother who is a high school student" routine.  He doesn't like it, but he complains very little.  HOWEVER, this past Tuesday, he had a night soccer game to makeup for a rainout at the beginning of the season.  See, it poured at 5 am, stopped before 9, and was beautiful ALL day, but his 12:00 soccer game was absolutely rained out.  This league isn't supposed to play any weeknight games, but since the "rainout week" had already been utilized due to NOBODY being ready to begin the season, we got stuck with a Tuesday night game.  It was in Colleyville, which isn't as far as it could be, but the game didn't even start until 7:15, and they're 90 minutes.  By the time the game wrapped up and we got in the car and got Whataburger (because...priorities) and got home and he got in the shower after he ate and I remembered I needed everything for lunch from the grocery store, so I went to the store at 10 p.m., and when I came home he was still awake...well, I knew Wednesday morning would be a total beatdown.

It did not disappoint.  At one point, he cried, "Why am I acting like this?" and I said, "Because you're like me and you need sleep or you're a totally angry cranky ass until noon."  His tears dried up, he looked at me with fire in his eyes and said, "I blame you.  I hate you." and took off for school.

Also known as a typical Wednesday.  Sigh.

Usually only one of them hits me with an "I hate you" during any given week, but this week, I was blessed with another one after school when I was trying to explain why B had done a math problem incorrectly.  If you know me, then you know this whole scenario is hilarious, but I was ONE HUNDRED PERCENT SURE I WAS RIGHT.  And he was positive I was wrong.  At one point, I thought I saw a glimmer of  "Oh, she IS right!" but he saw I was onto him, and he shut down again.

N has decided he is in charge of his own bedtime.  I ask him to be in bed no later than 10:30 unless he's working on homework, since he can afford to get up after 7:00 since school starts at 8:20. So much unnecessary information.  Anyway, he was still going strong with NBA2K17 at 10:30, and I didn't say a word...I just silently seethed instead.  It was extremely passive-aggressive.  At 11:00, I finally bellowed for him to go to bed.  And do you know what that kid said to me?! "But MOM!  There's 3 minutes left in this game!"  I'm thinking to myself, "Okay, well...if you had asked to extend your bedtime at 10:30, it wouldn't be such a big deal, but you didn't.  You just totally ignored bedtime and did what you wanted to do and I don't feel sorry for you.  At all."  But what I actually said was, "You know, N...you go ahead and stay up and finish that game, but if you choose to do that, you also choose to accept the consequences for your actions because you know your bedtime is 10:30."  Then I got the whole rant about how he can do what he wants and get himself up on time and he doesn't need me and blah blah blah.  But he must've known I meant business because he slammed all the things down and turned off the lights and yelled that he hated me as he slammed MY door and then went into his room to try on belts.

Why?  I have no idea. 

The next morning, he asked me to make him a sandwich.  I asked him if he was going to apologize for being hateful and disrespectful.  He said he didn't think that was on his list of things to do that day, and I told him I didn't think making a sandwich for an ungrateful kid was on mine.  He decided he didn't need a sandwich, and as soon as he left, I took an hour long nap.

And. It. Was. Glorious.

Aubs

Update: The Extremely Abridged Version

I have a lot of words in my head.  I realize this isn't news; I always have a lot of words in my head, but these words are also "feels" and totally jumbled and confusing and I'm not even sure where they came from.  Part of me blames my eldest child, but they started way before my precious treasure made a comment that halted me in my tracks and ultimately made me totally reconsider life.

That is slightly over-dramatic, but only slightly.  Let's just say he made a comment the other day, and the comment was about a person that I thought might have been behaving a little differently, but not in a bad way...just different, and maybe more interesting.  I thought it, but I never said anything about it...so I feel like this comment he made was totally unprovoked.  Anyway, he made this comment, and it totally confirmed the thoughts I had recently found bouncing around in my head, but when I seemed to react to it positively, he quickly said he was just joking.  Well, actually he said it was "just a prank," but I'm not really sure he understands what pranks are because none of the things he calls "pranks" are remotely close to pranks.

Today, said comment came up again, but I brought it up in conjunction with another conversation (with another person) on the way to his dad's house, and it backfired.  The child turned it around on me and said I was the one behaving differently...that I had a "cruuuuuuuuuuush."  And, y'all?  I couldn't even deny it with a straight face.  Because maybe I do, and if I do, maybe it's about damn time.

Or maybe I don't and I'm suffering from heat stroke.  It's about 50/50 at this point.  But, I probably have a bit of a crush...let's just be honest here.  After all, it's almost my birthday and it's a good time to just keep it real.

See, N's team just competed in the World Series.  It kicked off last week with a walk around the warning track at the Twins/Rangers game, and ended after some excellent baseball playing (6 games in 3 days) last night.  I could gush about the greatness of this team and its coaching staff and the families/supporters FOR DAYS, but it wouldn't do them justice.  I'll sum it all up by saying the coaches gave an excellent speech last night, and my stubborn, stoic boy cried the whole way home.  These coaches mean that much to him.  I think he finally realized that these men care about him because they want to, not because they have to...and as high school tryouts loom on the horizon, my boy is realizing that he has a lot more people in his corner than he thought he did.  He even told me how much he loved and appreciated me, even though he didn't always show it, on the way home.

Well.  Color me surprised!

Anyway, it was a rough way to end a World Series tournament, especially since the boys had come together to win a tournament over Father's Day weekend.  They played hard, and were the only team in the tournament to win both of their pool games.  In fact, these guys were on an 11 game winning streak, the longest streak they've ever had, and they were all showing up to play.  Every single player contributed in a way that was outstanding and a serious asset to the team.  There were saves, there were huge rbi's, there was awesome base stealing, and a whole lot of teamwork.  I couldn't be prouder of them if I tried.

Meanwhile, B set sail on his first cruise with his dad and stepmom this week.  He has been so excited for this trip ever since it had to be rescheduled because he got sick in February and was unable to travel over Spring Break.  I am so glad it was able to happen for him, and I can't wait to hear about his adventures when he gets back!  He, too, got to walk the warning track at the Rangers game.  He's tall enough to fit in with the team, and since one of the players was out of town, he just jumped right in and was able to experience the whole thing as one of the guys.  I'm pretty sure, based on his smiles, that the experience was priceless!  I think the best part was that N really wanted him to be there, and all of the other boys were happy to have him, too.  In fact, they were bummed when he left early so he didn't have to get up early the next morning for our games.  It's been such a long time since my boys genuinely got along.  I could get used to this.

I also won't hold my breath.

Aubs

Rain, Tournaments, & So.Much.Dirt.

I received an email toward the end of the week from the the registrar's office at the university from which I recently graduated.  "Hey, Aubrey, we just wanted to let you know that we have received your final grades and you did, in fact, meet the requirements for your degree, so we submitted an order for your diploma to be printed."

Hey, guys...thanks!  Graduation was a couple of weeks ago, so that would've sucked if it hadn't gone well.  Insert all the eye rolls here.

So, remember that weird feeling I had?  Well...it was entirely accurate, and it did, in fact, suck.  Such is life, I suppose.  I don't think it had as much of a negative impact on me as I expected, and this is due (in part) to my being a stubborn ass.  At the risk of sounding cryptic (which is usually one of my favorite things), just because any number of scenarios don't work out at a given time, it does not mean that they never will...just not right now.  And, oddly enough, I was totally good with that, and so was my brain.  It still thinks nonstop, but it's tolerable.  Sort of.

Last week, I pulled N out of school midday on Wednesday to take him to meet his father to go the afternoon Rangers game, the last game of the Angels/Rangers series at the Ballpark in Arlington.  He had no idea it was happening, so he was confused (and pissed) when he got to the office.  After I repeatedly told him nobody died (he was really suspicious because I don't ever let him skip school...for ANY reason, let alone to go to a baseball game), he was kind of okay with it, and even more okay with it when I assured him I wasn't going to the game with them.  The Rangers won (yay!), but the game went longer than expected, so he started stressing out over whether or not he would make it to his own doubleheader that night.  I suggested he change in the car to save time, and he hated that idea.  BUT, when his dad got him to the ballfields with 20 minutes to spare, he climbed out of the car (fully dressed in baseball attire) with a hateful look on his face.  THEN I passed him a bag with two sets of batting gloves in it (because his disintegrated in my hand as I put his stuff together to send with him), and I bet you wouldn't believe that both of them were totally wrong.

Then the zipper on his baseball pants and broken, and how could I not possibly just jump in my car and drive home to get him a new pair?  Because I am not a slave, nor would it be worth my time, thank you very much.  Luckily, a super mom had a safety pin, and after he got over himself (and attempted to close the pants unsuccessfully), I secured the pants and...between games...I also secured an apology from my kid, who admitted that he was pissed at the situation and taking it out on me, not actually pissed at me.

Yeah.  I know!

I wound up taking a call for a sub job that night, so the next morning I got up to teach middle school math.  I would've declined, but I knew I had at least one or two baseball boys during my day, so I went for it!  It was also "Red Nose Day" AND "Dress like you're on vacation" day, so I got to wear jeans and a t-shirt and a BASEBALL CAP!  It was the best!  The day didn't suck either, so I took it as a good omen.

Friday, it poured, and that matched my mood, but my mood was considerably lightened when I found out that the baseball tournament was still on!  Man, I love baseball...and I love watching this team play.  It's probably one of my favorite things.  On Saturday, I gave two of the boys a ride to the field they were playing on, and I'm pretty sure we laughed the whole way there...all of us, N included.  They split their games that night, although they should have won both, but they played well.  In the second game (it was close to 11 when they finished), N did a Pete Rose slide into second after smashing the ball to the left field fence.  He started to slide about halfway between first and second, and when he got up on second (he was safe), he was covered in red dirt...from his chin to his ankles, and made no move to dust any of it off.  I don't even know where those pants are at this moment, but I know they're still covered in dirt.

I woke up to thunder and a downpour a little before 5:00 am on Sunday, but jumped out of bed when I got an email saying the tournament was still on...just on an hour delay.  This director is my favorite tournament director ever.  He sends out emails and makes things happen and sends out more emails.  I jokingly told one of the dads that I have an email crush on the director...and he said he might have one on him, too!  I got a text from one of the dad's asking if we wanted breakfast, and a little while later, Einstein Bros. bagels and coffee were delivered to my front door!  What a way to start the day! I picked up my favorite panda bear en route to the ballfields, and watched some of the best baseball they have played.  They beat the team that beat them the night before...no, they didn't just beat them.  They decimated them!  The poor guys were from Lubbock, so it was quite a way to drive to get kicked out in the first round.  N smashed a ball over the left field fence...just two feet foul.  It would've been an amazing three run homer!  Since they won that game, they didn't have to play again until much later that evening, so everyone went home to shower or nap or play Xbox (my kid).  When we got back out there, there was a delay because a game went way over (our age group was only playing on one field), so the game that was about to end was the game BEFORE the game before our next game.  Yikes!

Then it started lightning, so they shut the thing down for the storm to pass.  Long story short, everyone was drenched.  All the stuff was drenched.  Everyone left.  We went home, changed clothes, and then took one of the other players home and stayed there for dinner, fun, and conversation.  The bracket was re-released for Monday play, but then it stormed again, and they scrapped the remainder of the tournament.  Which sucks.  Because they were totally in a great position to take the whole thing.  As it stands, we were ranked first going into it, but wound up right in the middle since we didn't get to finish the whole thing.  At some point in time, I hope we get to play a tournament in its entirety AND take the whole thing.  The last time that happened, it was October.

Come on, rain...SERIOUSLY.

Aubs

I Feel...Weird

There's something in the air today.  I don't know what it is, but from the time I woke up this morning, I've just felt kind of...jittery.  Like, my hands feel like they should be shaking if I were to extend them to look at them, but they aren't.  My gut feels nervous/excited and full of anticipation, and I have no idea why.  Something's brewing.

I hope it doesn't suck.

Yesterday I hosted a game afternoon with my mom, Seester, Pal, and N.  N was not expected to play games, but he joined us for several of them before reverting back to video game mode.  It was a pleasant surprise, even if he DID target me on everything, which caused me to be slightly pissed.  But it was all in good fun, right?  Anyway, one of the greatest things about my Pal is that she always has so many bizarre games.  We played BS (N's pick), then we played Dutch Blitz (I always yell "Blitzen" because...why not?), and continued to be multi-cultural with a German card game, followed by a game that was all about sushi.  It was awesome!  I haven't seen my Seester in forever, and it was good to get a little time with her, even though I hacked my way through the afternoon and my voice got more and more hoarse.  My BIL is "deployed" to Baton Rouge for the next 6-12 months, so Seester is referring to herself as a single dog mom.  Oh, that girl!  We're planning some Seester time in June, and attempting to coordinate that with some Daddy-Daughter time, too...so I'm pretty excited about that!

Meanwhile, one of my friends asked me to come out to see a band in a neighboring town last night.  When I took my Pal home, I decided to make a quick trip over to see what the hype was all about, and I am SO glad I did!  They were really good, with a seriously huge repertoire of songs from all the genres.  I didn't hear any country, but sometimes that's okay.  As awesome as the band was, crowd watching was even more entertaining.  Or terrifying.  My friend said she was a great dancer...from a chair and from the waist up.  Me, too!  I knew there was a reason we were friends, and NOT just because it embarrasses my precious treasure!  There were a few songs she rocked out to, and I met her with a deadpan stare and a, "Was I alive?"  (In case you were wondering, I was NOT alive for some of them, but there were only a few I didn't know.)  I sang along to Journey and Blackstreet and Eminem and just stared at all.the.dancing.  It was a good choice, even if I did blast any small piece of my voice that I had left, and potentially fried my corneas with images I will never be able to unsee.

I woke up this morning to a text message that made me smile...and then stumbled blindly to the coffee pot.  I opted for a full pot instead of instant gratification with my Keurig, and then wondered why it takes so long to brew a pot of coffee?  Seriously.  So.  Long.  I upped the boldness on my brew (perhaps that explains the weird feelings I'm feeling today), then made hash browns and bacon for when my man-child woke up...holding off on the eggs so they wouldn't be rubbery.  We had a leisurely morning and I've spent the day (so far) watching baseball and reading a book.  FOR FUN.  My brain is whirring in eleventy-seven directions, but that's cool.  It matches my gut.

I'm not sure what's going on with all that, but like I said...I really hope it doesn't suck!

This week is going to be great!  There are three baseball games during the week, I'm surprising N with something midweek (his dad is my co-conspirator), and there's a baseball tournament this weekend...AND it's a long weekend...AND then there are only three more days of school.

We've got this!

Aubs

Insert Witty Title Here

A few weeks ago, I was subbing for one of my favorite Science teachers, and the lesson plans she emailed me included creating group names for the last unit of the year: The Amazing Race.  After repeating instructions approximately eleventy-four times, I held up an example and said, "'Insert Witty Title Here,' put your name, draw a picture.  Open it up, glue the world map, put the Texas map on the next page, and we'll go from there."

Obviously there were a few of them who were precious enough to put "Insert Witty Title Here" as their journal title.  And those precious treasures made me giggle.. 

Sometimes I feel incredibly witty, but other times, I find it really hard to be coherent, let alone smart.  I also really struggle with keeping myself in check.  I feel like my brain never stops running.  If only it were my legs.  MAN!  There would be no jiggle at ALL.

I not-so-jokingly told the baseball parents last night that I missed school already.  I feel like I've lost my identity without homework and colorful calendars and stressing out about assignments or gpa...and obsessively checking Blackboard for grade updates?  That is my jam.  I already feel like my brain is getting dumb.  I probably do REALLY need a mental break, but learning gives me such a sense of purpose.  I feel like I'm a better...everything...when I have a full course load.

In reality, I know I'm probably the worst version of myself with all this extra stress, but it's who I am.  For a while, I thought it was all I could be, but lately I've started to wonder if there's way more to me than meets the eye.  Also, if I get to be a Transformer, I want to be a mixture of Optimus Prime and Bumblebee...with a little Jazz thrown in for good measure.  Someone should make that happen, but it won't be me because I'm trying to let others lead and do things for me and delegate responsibility.

Y'all, I suck at all of those things.  Big time.  I am trying so hard to let others do things for me and lean on my people and let my guard down, but anytime something isn't all hearts and butterflies, I immediately think it's all gone to crap.  Maybe it has, maybe it hasn't, and maybe I just need to slow my roll.  It's okay for things to be in an in between state.  It doesn't have to be "all or nothing" all the time, but the thing is...in my world, that's the way it's always had to be.  It's always had to be one extreme or the other: disgusting happiness (um...how about never?) or total tragedy (every single day of my life for several years, it seems).

There's a song by Martina McBride called "Some Say I'm Running."  I'm not really sure how it pertains to my life because I'm not running back to anyone (because going backward never helps you go forward), but there's a line that sticks in my head alllllll the time:

"Against the odds, I'll roll the dice.  I guess my heart has won, despite all good advice."

On repeat, friends.  I'm letting my heart lead here, and that's hard to do because my brain is one bossy broad, and she doesn't play second fiddle to anyone or anything.  There's a constant war going on inside...between my organs...and also my gut.  And it's exhausting.  Or exhilarating.  Maybe both, but definitely confusing. 

I'm pretty sure I'm losing my mind with all of the stuff that's going on lately.  Either that or I'm well on my way to a total emotional breakdown.  Neither sounds pleasant.  And entirely debilitating. 

Can't wait for the fun to begin.

Sounds swell.

Aubs