Boo!

We are three hours away from even leaving the house to trick-or-treat, and I am sick of candy already. I knew I should have bought big bags of Almond Joys or Smarties, neither of which I like. But noooooo, instead I picked up large packages of Skittles, M&Ms, Snickers, and Whoppers. Darn it, I am in love with all of them. Well, I was. Now I loathe them. I loathe them all.

[gag] I swear, if I could just puke right now, I'd feel so much better. Stupid candy. The good news is that I will mostly likely be leaving the kids' trick or treat bags alone tonight. See, children, the sacrifices I make for you?

Hubby, just so you know, tomorrow you may be taking a bunch of chocolate bars and other assorted candies to work. Nay, not a bunch. A friggin' boatload. All I know is, it's not staying alone in the house with me anymore.

Tomorrow I start working out. Yeah, y'all check up on me, wouldja?

Speaking of working out, I've decided not to join Curves. As much as I enjoyed getting out there every morning, I wondered why I was never sore. No matter how hard I pushed myself, I never felt like I was doing anything that would help me tone up (which, at my age, is pretty much A-Number-One on the get-fit list). Don't get me wrong - Curves can be a really good thing. But I just don't think it's for me. So on I go with the fitness search.

First step: rid house of all chocolate.

Tomorrow.

Happy trickin' and treatin', y'all!

Writing and Scouting and Schmoober, Oh My!

I signed up for NaNoWriMo. Check out the cool new icon at left (props to Katie for making that happen). I am filled with excitement and dread, although the latter is rather a stupid feeling, since it's not like I'm being graded on what I write. It's all good, though, because I am counting on myself to be successful in this endeavor. Go Trace; go Trace!

As if spending countless hours at my computer next month weren't enough, I have taken on a whole new endeavor as well. At her request, I took P to sign up for Girl Scouts last night. There were lots of girls there, but unfortunately not many from P's school. It takes five children to make a troop, but as P was the only 2nd grader from her school at the rally, she was put together with all the 1st graders. To say that she is less than thrilled would be a heavy understatement. I told her that if she was unhappy, she didn't have to join, but she said she still wanted to try it out.

So I and four other moms are sitting at this munchkin-sized table in the cafeteria at one of the neighborhood elementary schools. Two were breastfeeding; one was dressed like she either has a high-paying job, or married a man with one (either way, the process seemed to bore her), and the other one had apparently signed in at the start of the meeting and then vanished. Weird.

Then there was me, whose breasts have not nursed an infant in seven years, and who has not held a decent-paying job in five. Apparently, this means that I am automatically troop leader. I don't actually recall saying that I was the man for the job, but when not one but TWO harried-looking mothers with babes at their chests look at you pathetically, what are you going to do?

The "rich or married so but either way so very bored" woman said that there was no way she could be troop leader because the only camping she is willing to do is at Camp Hyatt. Well. Who wouldn't rather rough it with room service? I have a feeling she's going to annoy me for years to come. Or weeks, depending on how long P wants to stick it out. (Hey, I can dream, can't I?)

The next step in this process is that I have to go to a four-hour seminar next weekend on how to be a troop leader. I hate to give up a Sunday afternoon, but I suppose P's happiness is worth it. She'd darn better appreciate this, for I shall be reminding her for the next forty years or so of all the sacrifices I've made throughout her life. Am I evil? Nay. I am a mother. And not the "f'er" kind, either, lest you are thinking so.

Speaking of bad language, which of course I never, ever, use, we heard "Boulevard of Broken Dreams" on the radio tonight. The kids love that song, but I won't buy them the CD because one line says, "What's f'ed up and everything's alright." Why can't they just say "What's goobed up and everything's alright"? Or maybe use "dorked." Or "schmoobered." Just not the almighty F.

Man, I've had to erase u-c-k every time I've typed F. I don't want to spell out the whole word, but my fingers type much faster than my brain thinks sometimes. Thank goodness for delete and backspace keys.

Also speaking of bad language, a few choice words were heard around here this week. The Astros didn't win a single game in the World Series. "Shucky-darn" and "balderdash" were about the only bad-type words that went unsaid. But as bad as it feels to lose in four straight games, I am still very proud of my boys. It's an amazing feat to even get TO the Series, and most other teams didn't make it that far. Some didn't even come close. So hats off to you, 'stros - you're still hometown heroes to me.

Should I do it?

Katie does NaNoWriMo every year. Despite the fact that I really don't think I have The Great American Novel (hereinafter to be known as "TGAN") in me, I am really tempted to sign up. But can I write 50,000 words in 30 days? That's like a 1,666.66 word paper every day - and I don't know how to write .66 of a word. Would "a" or "I" count, maybe?

With all these questions and hesitations, why am I even considering signing up? I think it's just so I can say "I did it!" I mean, this year is practically a bust for me - I'm not in school this semester; I'm not working outside the home (not for money, anyway - my sis is paying me in Wendy's and Whataburger, which I think is a fair trade for stripping wallpaper and painting doors, don't you?); and I'm not having a baby, either, like Amy is going to do any day now.

So, okay then. I've talked myself into it. I'm going to write 50,000 words. In 30 days. Holy cow, that's a lotta words in a little time. Do you think I'm allowed to plagiarize my blog sometimes? After all, I'm the original writer of all the words before you; I should be allowed to copy myself, right? I have to write about what I know best, and that would be, well, me. One might ask if I really know myself, but philosophical and psychological discussions are not my cup of tea today. Ego, Id, all that jazz. Bleh.

Why is "Ramblin' Fever" going through my head? Follow this post and you'll figure it out. Heh.

Off to sign up for NaNoWriMo now. Hubby, will you join me in my quest? I know you have got TGAN in you. Time to see that bad boy!

La de da

Don't have much else to write about, but I wanted to get the depressing post off the top of the page....

Recent thoughts I've pondered:

Why is it that no matter how many ways I try to steer company AWAY from the laundry room (which currently houses no fewer than five mountains of laundry), they always manage to see the mess anyway?

Why is it that I feel responsible for so many people's happiness? What is this urge within me that wants to please everyone, many times at my own expense? How the heck can I plug it up?

Why is it bad to be a little selfish sometimes? Or is it?

Why do I not want to go to school anymore? Not that I'm quitting, mind you; I just don't want to put forth the effort. At all.

Why am I excited about Christmas? I love love love that time of year. But why, exactly? This one has baffled me for years.

Why am I so happy to be helping my sister with her house? I mean, it's work. Hard work. But I love it. Maybe it's the sense of accomplishment that comes with manual labor. Maybe it's that I love socializing with my siblings. Maybe I feel closer to Mom in that house...? Maybe it's all those things. Maybe I should stop analyzing it and just go with the flow.

Why did Mitch Hedburg have to die so young? His comedy routines make me laugh hard, even though I've heard them over and over and over. Drugs suck.

The kids just got home from school, so I'll stop now. Well, maybe just one more thought: Tomorrow, GO ASTROS!

Seven Years

Today is the 7th anniversary of the day my mother passed away.

Mom had started complaining of a headache on Wednesday evening, October 21st. On Thursday, she stayed in bed all day long, only getting up twice to use the restroom. Both times, she had to inch her way down the hall to the bathroom because of the pain in her head. By Thursday evening, she was incoherent - and my dad was getting scared. He made her get up and come sit on the sofa, and he peppered her with questions like "how old are the grandchildren? what is your name?" She answered him, but slowly and with her head bobbing because she kept drifting off to sleep.

My parents finally went to bed around midnight, but around 2:00 dad felt something was wrong. He jumped out of bed, told mom they were going to the ER, and somehow got her to get up and get into the car.

At the ER, the nurses started questioning Mom again - "what's your name, address, etc." Same type of response. They put her into a room, and my dad stood by her and held her hand and told her he loved her. She replied "I love you, too."

Around 4:00 a.m., Mom gasped, threw her head back...and stopped breathing. Dad ran into the hallway screaming, and the nurses came in and put Mom on a respirator.

The doctor ordered CAT scans on Mom the next morning, and found that there was no activity in her frontal lobe. We were all there (all five of us kids, plus our spouses) when the nurses came in and unhooked the machines to see if she could breathe on her own. It was heartbreaking to watch and see that she could not. Despite the fact that her heart was still beating, Mom was gone. She was 51.

It was very hard to watch her go. As the years go by, I expect the ache in my heart to get better. And in some ways, it has. But as I relive that day, I find that the pain is still very raw. Writing it all out is therapeutic in a way. Many of my friends hesitate to talk to me about Mom because they're afraid they'll upset me (and I understand that), but sometimes I need to talk about her.

"Don't cry because its over. Smile because it happened."

Thanks for the memories, mom. And thanks for giving me life. I miss you so much.

Because it's been four days

...without a post from me. Here we go.

Astros lost last night, but it was actually a good game. The armchair quarterback (or the baseball equivalent) in me had a bad feeling about Roger Clemens pitching, but I am no one, so he started and we lost. Of course, he only pitched two innings, and left because of an injury, but still. If only Phil Garner had asked me what my feminine instincts were saying, the 'stros might have pulled this one out.

There's still hope - next game is tonight. Please, Pettitte, pull some tricks from up your sleeve. My feminine instincts are not overly optimistic about your throwing arm, either. Surprise me.

Moving on, because I know my non-baseball-fan readers will appreciate a new topic.

I helped my sister work on her house again last Friday. We had our first-ever experience with vinyl tile, which sis and I put down in her laundry room. That stuff is sticky. We're talking airplane glue times ten. When we finished tiling the room, both of us had to use a soapy Brillo pad to get the goop off of our hands - and that STILL did not remove all the goop. Lesson learned and lesson shared: if you ever do sticky vinyl tile, for Bob's sake, have some GooGone nearby.

One more home improvement lesson: if you ever need to trim down a door before you hang it, always always always do the trimming on the hinge side. Not the doorknob side. Trust us on this one. This is particularly important when hanging a bathroom door, as privacy is probably an issue in your house, too.

By the way, Tnk, the new laundry room door looks amazing.

Moving on again.

The weather here is absolutely gorgeous. We slept with the windows open last night, which was a real treat because we have not done that since we moved here. The windows are still open, and as I type this, I am watching the sheers in my living room blow gently with the breeze. I imagine this is what my grandmother's childhood home was like: air conditioning did not exist at that time, so their windows were always open. And they had large windows, like we do. I never saw their curtains blowing, but like I said, I imagine this is how it was.

Oh! My windup pendulum clock just chimed 12:00! A clock just like grandma's childhood home used to have.

Wow, have I somehow tripped back to 1937? No, wait, a 747 just flew by. Never mind.

By the way, Evil One, you're in my thoughts today. I hope the hurricane's path does not include your home. Take care.

Have a good week, all. And GO ASTROS!

Suh-WEET!

They did it! For the first time in franchise history, the Houston Astros are going to the World Series, baby. At the moment, I'm the embodiment of the commercial: I live for this!

Next on my agenda is how I can score some World Series tickets....

Rassin' Frassin'...

The title is for my beloved Astros. I hope they get their act together tomorrow night and kick some Cardinal ... uh, rear. (Do birds have kickable rears?) Last night's game sucked, except for the glorious home run by Berkman. And the pretty good pitching by Pettitte.

Okay, maybe just last night's 9th inning sucked. I still can't believe we were down to ONE STRIKE and blew it. Is it the Houston sports curse? I lean towards "not" because after all, the Houston Rockets have kicked butt and taken names in the recent past. And they count as a Houston sports team, right? (I hate basketball, but I still back the locals.)

Today my brother told me that if the Astros don't get to the World Series this year, he's never going to watch them again. I think that echoes the sentiments of many fans, although truth be told, I think that's a knee-jerk reaction. I mean, come on. We all know that if the Astros go far next season - or heck, fifteen seasons from now - we'll be cheering them on.

Anyway.

I spent a rather enjoyable day helping my sister and brother demolish and reconstruct her house. My sister is buying the home we grew up in, and it's in dire need of a facelift (really, more of a total-body makeover, lol). So we spend a couple of days a week tearing down wood paneling and taking out old flooring and tiles, plus painting walls and trim. There's a long way to go, but I can definitely see the light at the end of the tunnel. It helps that my sister was gifted with a decorator/architect's eye - she knows what she wants, and it all fits, if that makes sense.

I would love to lock her inside my house all alone for a day and see how beautiful she can make it. (Waddaya say, Tnk? I'll even cook for you.) Not that cooking for her is a big deal. She was also blessed with wonderful culinary skills.

Hey, where was I when all this talent was being passed out, huh? I excel in scrapbooking and ... uh ... bowling. Wow, I bore myself.

And now that I've bored you guys, I shall sign off with this thought. Again.

GO ASTROS!

Fifty-seven channels and there's nothing on

Hey there. Miss me?

I've been sick with a cold for the past few days, and haven't spent much time on the computer. I would be going through some serious withdrawal, had I not been so achy and sniffy. Instead of compute-ing, I've been parked on the sofa for hours on end, wondering why the heck we pay for digital cable because there is nothing on.

I have watched so much crap the past few days that I probably should be hosed off. Daytime programming is so very bad. Not only did I watch the season finale of "Surreal Life," (OMG Janice Dickinson has problems), but I also watched an entire season of "America's Next Top Model." In.one.day. (Again with the Janice Dickinson! Gack!) That's eight hours I'll never see again. On the other hand, I did get some rest and dozed off from time to time. Daytime TV is almost as good as Galavision soccer at putting me to sleep.

When I wasn't stuck on VH1, I checked out the local channels. In doing so, I caught a couple of episodes of "Ellen," which I used to really enjoy. Ellen was funny as always, but I didn't get into the show all that much. I felt a little lost, actually - what's up with the smiley-face potato chip? And now it's missing? What the heck? Is this worth getting all worked up over? I don't know, but I AM! Gack!

Today finds me better physically, but sick ... car-ly. (Huh?) My van decided it wanted to give me trouble last night, then this morning it gave up starting altogether. So my stepdad came over and jumped it, then followed me to the dealership (thanks, T; I enjoyed our visit so much.). Anyway, that was hours ago. I'm not optimistic about getting my vehicle back this weekend, which is going to make all the running around I have to do quite difficult.

Maybe I'll just sit home and watch TV. I'm sure Janice Dickinson is on some channel. Gack!

p.s. GO ASTROS!

Proverbial Little Me

This is probably about right...except for the not speaking much part. Sometimes I am overly loquacious. But that's not a bad thing, right?





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About time!

This weekend, hubby and I celebrated our 15th anniversary in style - in no small part due to the fact that the grandparents took the kids for an overnight visit Saturday night. (Thanks, Boppa & Beaner!)

The weekend started off right because the Longhorns pummeled the Sooners (take THAT, Stoops! HA!). And Mack Brown? About damn time, is all I'm saying.

Hook'em!

Anyway...

Saturday evening, hubby took me out to The Melting Pot, which is an incredible fondue restaurant. If you've never been there, GO. You might need to save your pennies for a few years first, but after that, GO. We had a four-course meal, after which I was so grateful that I'd had tea instead of wine - I was uncomfortably full, and sure didn't need a hangover to go along with my upset stomach.

But don't let that dissuade you; the food was great and the service was very good. I highly recommend this place to anyone who has a special event coming up. Or if you don't want a big meal but are craving a very cool dessert, go there for the chocolate fondue. It's to die for. Skip the one with the peanut butter, though - it was so heavy I could hardly touch it. Of course, I was already about to explode, so maybe that had something to do with it.

After dinner, we drove 30 miles back home. We had talked about stopping for coffee or something, but I was seriously f-u-l-l and couldn't even think about ingesting anything else. Ugh, I feel sick just thinking about it.

Yadda yadda yadda on the rest of the evening. No details here, as this is a family blog. (Y'all, my husband is rolling his eyes at me as he reads this. Embarrassing Hubby? Fun! Heehee!)

The next morning, we were still full from dinner, so for breakfast we went to Starbucks. Hubby got a Chai Tea Latte (yummy), and I got a Pumpkin Spice Latte (yummIER). That's all we had until lunchtime, when we went to The County Line. That place has awesome barbecue, and even better, I had a coupon! So we ate ribs and potato salad and other stuff, then ordered apple pie a'la mode. Very good, by the way. Not all places have good apple-y desserts, but County Line does. (For the record, Grand Lux does NOT.)

By the way, we did do one foolish thing yesterday: we turned down tickets to see the Astros play the Braves. Granted, six hours of straight baseball doesn't sound appealing even now, but how cool would it be to have been in attendance at a history-making playoff game? [sigh] We're consoling ourselves with the fact that at least the Astros won! (Again, 'bout damn time. I'm sure we weren't the only ones who were thinking that.)

Overall, the weekend was fantastic. It was so nice to reconnect with my spouse - and actually finish a conversation without interruption. Hubby and I have been thinking that we'd like to have a date night once a month or so, and are hoping the grandparents will be receptive to that idea. That would be sooooo great.

As for spending time together as husband and wife? It was about damn time.

Fifteen years ago today

I married the man of my dreams, thereby becoming the happiest woman in the world.

I am struggling to find what to say next because thinking back on that day makes my heart overflow. After all this time, I still can't believe that he chose me. I thank God all the time that he brought us together. We are so unbelievably happy and have so much fun together ... sickening, aren't we?

I love my husband so much, and am so grateful that my life has turned out the way it has. He's my sun, my moon, my starlit sky. Without him, I dwell in darkness. That sounds weird, but hubby will know what I'm talking about [heh, so will his sister {hi, Amoo}]. Anyone else seen "Willow"? Then you will know, too. lol

Had to put a bit of levity in there. I was making myself cry. And I hate when I make myself cry. My mascara gets all runny and so does my nose. Nothing worse than a runny nose on your 15th anniversary. Okay, I'm sure there's something worse, but I can't think of it right now because I'm all sappy and stuff.

Anyway, here's to US, hubby. I love you so much, and can't wait until we can celebrate our anniversary this weekend.

[mwah!]

10/05/05 = Fake entry...

... because Blogger decided to take a powder last night. Yes, I'm pre-dating this entry. Ignore the title of this thread, cuz it's actually October 6th now. So, hi! How the heck were ya yesterday?

I tried to get in for over an hour last night (on the 5th), but fifty-three "This page cannot be displayed"'s later, I gave up.

Blogger, get your crap together before I'm forced to take my crap elsewhere.

Katie, go to Kohl's!

Today my sister came over to my house and took me shopping at Kohl's. Okay, she didn't take me take me - she had a coupon to share, and she drove. But I paid for all my stuff. Just so we're clear.

Aside to Gimpy: Thanks SO much for driving, by the way. I really appreciated riding around in your cool car. :)

Anyway, I finally found some really nice stuff that - get this - actually fit me. I couldn't believe it. And everything I got was on the clearance rack, reduced 66% or more. Happy dance time! Last time I was this thrilled with a purchase, it was yellow and sucked (in a good way - don't be gross).

All right, all right. My last happy dance was over a Dyson. Just so we're clear again.

The outfit I bought included a white button-up 3/4-sleeve blouse and a pair of tailored khaki capri pants. Nice enough for dinner out, PTO meeting, or wiping boogey noses. Okay, maybe too nice for that last one, but a mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do. I also found a nice tan belt off a rack marked "final clearance" (read: no can bringo backo) for $1.50. I needed a new belt, so this was a major score for me.

Last but not least, I bought a couple of pieces of jewelry for myself. This is a BIG deal because I.do.not.wear.jewelry. Okay, I wear my wedding ring, but that's it. But the lure of the jewelry aisle was overpowering. This very very very cute bracelet kept calling out to me. I tried very hard to resist its charms (punny, ain't I?), and I even tried to put it back on the rack over a dozen times (my sister can totally vouch for this). But when the fat lady sang, it was in my cart. Now it's on my wrist.

I also bought a cute cross choker-necklace. Those words are probably not-hyphenated. Oh-well.

New clothes, new jewelry, and new lingerie, too. I won't post a description of the latter here, but suffice it to say that it's hot.

Katie, I know you've been looking for casual wear, so if you have a Kohl's anywhere near you, get there. Find a coupon if you can. And avoid the jewelry aisle - it's evil.

In memory of Lance

Man, these "memoriam" posts are getting me down.

When we got home from K's soccer game yesterday, I noticed that our active, bright blue, curiously-large betta fish was no longer active nor bright blue. In fact, he had turned a strange shade of brown and was floating upside down on the bottom of his bowl. (For the record, everyone, YES I had fed him this morning, and YES he was swimming around at that time.)

Lance was 20 months old, which I understand is old for a betta. He'd been a good little fish, playing up his cuteness by darting to and fro around his fishbowl, and often cheering us up by making cute little fishy-faces whenever we were blue. Okay, he wasn't actually discriminating as to when he'd make those faces. But if you were ever depressed, you could go over to the bowl and count on him making one at you.

Lance survived the premature death of his wife, Fins, whom I accidentally overfed last year when we left town for a couple of days. He also survived several trips back and forth between Houston and Kyle, and had settled into his new home here with nary a complaint.

The kids are crushed. After the funeral service (flush flush!), I found R hiding behind his bunkbed, wailing loudly. P was in her closet, crying softly. K hid in my closet for a long time, and when he finally emerged, his eyes were red and swollen. Heck, even I teared up, although I'm not sure if my sadness was from Lance's death or from the kids' despair.

Lord, I can't even imagine what it would have been like if we'd lost a dog (which we don't have, but the kids have been BEGGING for). The kids don't realize it yet, but their reaction to the fish's passing has dealt them a setback in the puppy department. I am just not sure how much their little hearts can take.

I'm not sure how much *my* heart can take, either.

Farewell, dear Lance. Enjoy your swim in the big ocean in the sky. And make some fishy faces at God from time to time - his job is a hard one, and he, too, could use some cheering up sometimes.

One More Song I Sing (see previous post)

I can't believe I forgot this one. It always gives me a good feeling: a bit of melancholy mixed with excitement mixed with reflection. Would that be melanexcition?

Still Breathing (Duran Duran) - Actually, the entire album ("Astronaut") is awesome. It has stayed in my CD player for the better part of a year. This song in particular just ... wow. One line says "I'll burn this place to the ground ... I'm never going back there; I'm never going back there again." I guess that reminds me of the move we recently made from Kyle to Houston. Not that I ever wanted to burn Kyle to the ground. But maybe in my mind I did so....

Weird. I am. Seriously.

Can't think of any more songs right now, so I'll sign (or sing?) off. Ta ta!

Sing. Sing a Song.

I read this in Pez's blog, and thought wow, that's a great idea. My list may not be as comprehensive as hers, but I'll give it a shot anyway.

Delta Dawn (Tanya Tucker) - Singing on stage, microphone in hand, at the ripe old age of about five. Our babysitter, Joann, had three beautiful daughters; the oldest, Gail, sang in a band. Gail took a shine to me and often let me, a precocious little girl, sing along with her. Gail has since passed away, but she lives on in my heart every time I hear Tanya Tucker sing that song.

On The Road Again (Willie Nelson) - Oh, Mom. I miss you so much. Whenever I hear this song, I think of you singing "we're da bess of fwens" with Tree. It makes me smile.

Gonna Be A Heartache Tonight (The Eagles) - Little brother and his little guitar, strumming away one evening. Ran into the living room in a diaper and t-shirt, singing "gonna be a hard on tonight!" Never seen Mom turn so red or laugh that hard ... (at least not until T slipped in the muddy deep end of the pool and performed some kind of acrobatics - heehee).

Anything from Journey (Journey, natch) - High school. Parties. Drill Team. My first experience with "7 minutes in heaven" was to "Don't Stop Believing" (8th grade; Danny Burton; Yuck).

Standing on Higher Ground (Alan Parsons Project) - Hubby is major big time into APP. We had been dating a year or so when this album came out. Hubby was in Austin at college, and I was in Houston driving home from work. I exited I-45 at Rankin Road just in time to hear the end of the song and the deejay say, "That was the new one from the Alan Parsons Project." I sped the rest of the way to my apartment so that I could call Austin and talk about the song. Man, I remember waaaay too much about that.

Amanda (Boston) - Hubby (before he was hubby) and I listened to a lot of Boston in addition to APP. "Amanda" is my favorite Boston song, and whenever it comes on, I hearken back to the good old days. (Did I just say hearken? Good grief, I'm becoming my grandma.)

Deep (Moody Blues) - Er, just because? =D Hubby introduced me to Moody Blues, and they're still a favorite to this day. We even saw them in concert a few years back. They're older and grayer, but still very, very cool. "Knights in White Satin" - also very cool.

Mister Roboto (Styx) - My kids love this song. We've spent many an hour dancing around the living room to "Domo arigato, Mister Roboto, Domo (Domo)..."

I could probably add fifty more songs to this list, but I guess I'll stop here. These days I'm listening to Classic Country 97.1 a lot because most of the songs remind me of my childhood. But don't worry, hubby - I'll get back to Alan Baby soon!

Why I'm moving to Seattle

Okay, not really. But I'd love to someday.

Thank you, Pez, for the invitation to head north. If I ever get to Seattle, I'll definitely look you up. Shelly can move there, too, then Kimmer can come for a visit. Heck, we'll have the whole SAHP gang make a road trip! (Well, not the whole SAHP gang, LOL....)

Anyway, here's what's going on in Houston:

1. We're in the midst of a record heatwave, although a "cold" front is coming through tomorrow. The temps will drop all the way down into the 80s. Brrrr.

2. I've spent the better part of the day trying to convince a friend of mine, who remains without electricity for the 5th day and counting, to come stay with us. This is ridiculous. Why would you stay in a hot little house with no running water, no drinking water (yes, you read that right), and no a/c, if you didn't have to? It's too hot to be without a/c or water right now (see #1). If my friend dies, I’m going to kill him.

3. Since mulehead (see #2) wouldn’t agree to come here this morning, I went over to my sister’s house instead. I needed to get out of the house for a while, so we went out to lunch. It was nice, except for the part where Chili's set their freakin' thermostat on -40°. Yes, I know your electricity goes on and off all day (that part of town is experiencing brownouts right now), and you're probably trying to overcompensate so that people won't get uncomfortable when the power's out, but next time could you warn me so I can bring my parka?

4. By the way, Chili’s Lettuce Wraps rock.

5. I went to the grocery store and spent $87. Isn’t that thrilling? No? Okay, how about a peek at my grocery list: laundry detergent, deodorant for hubby, bar soap (Lever 2000 smells sooooo good – I sniffed the box halfway through Kroger), toothpaste, breakfast “corndogs”, low-carb chocolate milk (that stuff is SO good, y’all), salad, pota...zzzzzzzzzz, (oops, I dozed off), erm ... oh yes, potatoes, and other equally awe-inspiring fare.

Okay, was that thrilling? No? Well, there’s just no pleasing some people….

So to sum up: I got my grocery shopping done, but am apparently a failure at negotiations. Thus far, anyway. I’ll let you know if I ever convince mulehead to come over.

Wanderlust

(My husband will not know what to do with this post.)

For the past five years, I've been aching to move back to my hometown. I got my wish back in June. Now I'm ready to go.

I'm not sure exactly what it is that is bothering me. It's as if I built this impossible utopia in my mind, wherein we'd move to Houston and we would fall back into old enjoyable routines with all our old friends. Every Friday night would be Phase 10 with G & S ... which, by the way, has happened one time in the past four months, and even then I know it was stressful for them because they have a very active toddler now that they did not have when we lived here before.

I also thought I'd spend a lot of time with other friends, whom I did not get to visit with much when my children were younger. For some reason, that has not happened, either, except for one enjoyable and enlightening evening with Jen. Hubby thinks I should call my old friends more often, but frankly I get tired of being the one doing all the calling.

I am starting to think that spending the past five years in Podunk, Texas, turned me into a hermit. I made exactly three friends while we lived there, although to be honest, only one of them would I consider a "friend-friend"; someone I could call on the phone and talk to about anything. The other friend did my hair and her son played soccer with mine; the third moved away less than a year after I met her. So there you go. Hermitville.

Maybe I became comfortable with being a hermit. Maybe it's just that I enjoy my husband and kids more than I enjoy anyone else. Maybe I'm just more comfortable around them, and don't want to make an effort with other people. Maybe I'm completely crazy and don't know what I'm missing. Maybe it's a combination of all those things.

Lately I've just become disillusioned with life in general. I feel like my husband is falling into a depression, and that makes me feel very sad - and guilty. After all, we're only here because of me. I know that. He never wanted to come back.

What was I thinking?

I'm ready to throw in the towel. Nothing is as it was, or as I had hoped it would be. The practical side of me knows that this is stupid - we'd never be able to sell the house quickly and get our money back out of it, and the kids would be royally ticked that we switched their schools again.

In my heart, I know that I'm probably just reacting to recent events, and that things will look up. But at the moment, I would give anything to load up the car and just drive far away from here.

Seattle sounds good.

Happy Birthday, hubby!

Today my wonderful spouse turns thirty-something, just like the TV series. We celebrated last night with a family gathering here at home, but I hope he's having a great day at work, too.

I'd typed out an entire post a few minutes ago, but when I hit "publish," it disappeared into cyberspace. GRRRRRR!!!!!! Why oh why didn't I type this out in MS Word first?

Anyway, blah blah blah, birthday, blah blah, hubby got, among other presents, "Breakfast at Tiffany's" and three ABBA CDs (the latter at his request). I guess 2005 is the Year of the Feminine Side? Where is my Chinese restaurant menu? I want to double-check that.

More blah blah blah, we cleaned up the yard and it was hot and humid and the yard was a mess thanks to Hurri-pain Rita, blah blah, we were lucky, yadda yadda, no major damage.

Can you tell I'm still ticked about losing that post? GRRRRR!!!!!!!

Kids are still out of school because of Rita. They don't go back until Wednesday. They're very happy to be home, and frankly, I'm glad they're here, too. I'd forgotten how much I like having them around. (When school lets out next summer, feel free to remind me I said that.)

My stepdad and his S.O. and my brother came over Saturday morning to check on us. It was great to see them. We broke out my new poker chips and played cards for hours. I had such a good time, and I hope they did, too. Hubby felt bad that we served sandwiches for dinner, but the truth is that we'd been eating right through all our hurricane stash, and sandwiches were the best we could do. Hey, at least we had chips to go with them. But next time, stepdad, we'll have tacos!

I keep hitting CTRL-A and CTRL-C so that I don't lose this post. Unfortunately, this post rambles about more than the one I lost, but at least I won't have to retype everything again!

And well, that about wraps it up. I've got some gripes to type about, but I'm not going to because I'm, um, "grouchy" this week, and I know I'll regret venting. So I'll internalize everything and let it go at that.

I am the model of restraint, beyotches. Love and kisses to all!

World's shortest personality test

Borrowed from Kimmer's blog (thanks, Kim). :)

Your Personality Profile

You are pure, moral, and adaptable. You tend to blend into your surroundings. Shy on the outside, you're outspoken to your friends. You believe that you live a virtuous life... And you tend to judge others with a harsh eye. As a result, people tend to crave your approval.

The World's Shortest Personality Test

Dodged a bullet

At least, that's what the newscasters are saying.

In other words, we're okay. The hurricane brought us some rain (with days and days of rain still to come) and some pretty high wind gusts, but the house is still standing, the windows are all intact, and the water is all outside. Yay!

We did lose power last night. When it first went dark, we figured it was the beginning of several days without electricity. However, the lights came back on within seconds, and have stayed on ever since. Best of all, I still have Internet! My priorities are whacked! Yay again!

The kids slept blissfully through everything, and even hubby and I spent the night in our own bed (upstairs - we risked the tree-through-the-roof scenario, heh). We didn't sleep as blissfully as the kids, though, so I figure we'll need a nap later. Naps are always good.

Now my greatest wish is that gas stations will be refilled quickly, grocery stores will reopen shortly, and restaurants will start serving again ASAP. I am so very tired of cooking. I know, I know, whine whine whine. Sorry. I know I should be thankful for what I have, and I AM! Believe me. But the selfish little girl in me just wants some Chinese takeout. Is that so wrong?

Well, we're alive and dry and what's left of our frozen foods are not going bad. Life is good. Thank you all for the thoughts and prayers. They mean so much.

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood

No kidding, it really is. The temperatures are easily ten degrees cooler than yesterday, and we have some lovely breezes blowing through the trees and mussing my hair. [sigh] If it wasn't for Rita, I'd think I was in paradise.

I've spent the day doing laundry and cooking up some more stuff from my freezer. I don't know why I keep doing that: theoretically, food would last better if it was frozen, right? But I keep thinking that I need to take advantage of my oven and microwave now, before we lose power. Which may or may not happen, but I'm banking on the former.

Rambling thoughts, these...

I stripped our bed and washed the sheets this morning. I don't know why I chose today to do that, but I sure felt the pull to do so. I figure if I document it here, then after the storm passes (Sunday?) I can take stock of things and maybe it will make sense then.

I also took a shower and washed my hair today, then I fixed my hair and put on makeup. I'm not going anywhere, but just wanted to feel human again. And maybe also a little pretty. I've been slacking off the past couple of days, so I'm sure my husband isn't disappointed that I took a little pride in my appearance today.

Speaking of hubby, he mowed the front and back yards today. We are expecting a LOT of rain over the next week, so he wanted to get those taken care of. Thank you, hubby. The yards look good. I'll go take some "before" pictures in a minute. ;)

I've started putting together an emergency basket full of things like flashlights, first aid kit, radio, an Aim & Flame butane lighter, some candles, and some snacks. I pulled both ice chests from the garage so that we can fill them up as needed. I still need to put all my photo albums and scrapbooks away. I also want to pack up my china out of the china cabinet and store it somewhere. I don't know where, exactly, but any place has to be better than in a glass-front display case, right?

The kids are all to take showers and wash their hair today, even though they did so yesterday and have not been outside. Just never know when you might not have hot water for a few days. Anyway, after they're done, I'm going to fill up the tubs with water so that we will still have flushing capabilities even if the water supply is disrupted.

Storm trackers say that it now looks like the eye of the storm should pass to the east of Galveston. That's good news for us, but awful news for Louisiana. One levee has already been breached in New Orleans today. Were I a NOLA native, I would be giving serious thought about whether I wanted to rebuild there...

We're unplugging the computers tonight, so I may not be online for awhile. God willing, I'll be back soon, though. Take care, y'all.

I'm not bitter, really

I spent today productively worrying about hurricanes and flooding and high winds and dear GOD there are forty-nine windows in this house plus we don't have flood insurance! And where will we sleep tomorrow night when Rita gets to town? Downstairs bedroom, which is close to the best interior room in the house, but has two large windows which could get broken by flying debris and then we'll all be hurt? Or do we camp out in an upstairs bedroom, which has fewer windows but a tree might fall on us and then we'll all be hurt?

I'm not panicking! AAAAAAAAUUUUGHH!

In order to keep myself busy, and keep my mind off all of the above, I cooked several meals and did a boatload of laundry today. I also watched a lot of TV, which did not help with the worrying, but did distract me a little when it showed footage of the eleventy-billion people stuck on I-45 trying to get out of town. (Side note: Today it will take you twenty-four [yes, 24] hours to get from Houston to Dallas. That's normally a 4-hour trip. Holy cow.)

Holy cow again. (Sorry, that just warrants a couple of moos.)

Hubby had to go to work today, which was insane because the friggin' MAYOR of the 4TH largest city in the country CLOSED HOUSTON. Hello, dumbasses who are in charge of hubby's work? Yeah, you. I guess closing the whole city doesn't apply to YOU? Oh, but wait - maybe it does: the nice little memo you sent out yesterday stated that a "skeleton crew," which would consist of "basic office staff" and, oh yes, "you," (a.k.a. "upper management") would be in the office today.

Liars.

Not a single member of "upper management" showed up today (but all their secretaries were there ... sheesh). O.M.G. There are just no words ... I can't believe how you treat your staff, particularly those who bust their asses and spend untold hours in traffic to put forth effort that will eventually line YOUR pockets. And some of your staff, who shall remain nameless (but I'll call one of them "hubby") happen to have families to take care of - and you know, take care of little things like hurricane preparations.

I can see where we rank in the big picture there.

Hey, maybe I am bitter. But at least I found my laundry motivation.

Hurricanes piss me off

Rita, I sincerely hope you take a turn and head back out to sea. You are making me frightened, and I don't like feeling frightened. Plus, you're turning my normally nice community into a panicking mob, and I don't appreciate that, either. Why don't you just take your toys and go home?

I went to the grocery store this morning to buy batteries and water, and was met by a large poster at Kroger's front door proclaiming that they were out of the following:

Batteries
Water
and a bunch of other stuff that I didn't realize I needed until I saw that sign.

But I grabbed a cart and headed inside anyway. I stocked up on raviolis and canned soup, since we have a gas range and will be able to cook even if we lose power. Then I bought some pina coladas and beer, since ... eh, who needs a reason? Picked up a few things here and there, then I happened upon the Dasani guy, who was pushing a large cart of bottled water down an aisle. So I - and about 53 other people - followed him.

Now, the poor guy didn't have a prayer of any of that water actually hitting the shelf. The 54 people on that row were going to make sure of that. I lined up and waited my turn. Then this lady says to me, all snotty, "the line is back here." I agreed with her, saying "thanks, I know." She said, "no, the line goes this way." Now I realize that she thinks I cut in front of her. Uh, no, honey, I was here first. But in the spirit of community, I said "okay, thanks, you go ahead." She then proceeds to take eight cases of water off the cart! Several choice words sprang to my lips, but I corralled them before they took flight. I picked up one case of water and left the aisle.

Karma, bless her heart, made an appearance today. (And yes, she is a bitch.) I ended up in a checkout lane right behind grouchy lady, who was told by the checker that there is a two case limit on water purchases. (HA! HA HA! That announcement made my inner child gleeful.) So the checker took six cases away from grouchy lady.

Before grouch left, though, the checker pulled my cart up to the lane. I asked the checker if I could have one of those "extra" cases from the grouchy lady's cart, since I'd only gotten one to start with. She said "of course!" and put one in my cart. Oh, how I fought shooting a smug look at grouchy lady, who I am sure was even crabbier by now. HA!

Anyway, I'm home and have unpacked all the groceries now. I just heard on the news that my kids will be out of school for at least the rest of the week. That pleases me, although I don't really know why they need Thursday off. But hey, having the kids home during inclement weather is always a good thing.

Now I'm going to ask that anyone reading this please pray for us, or send good thoughts our way. We live on the north side of Houston, but are still being warned about high winds (we've got LOTS of BIG windows here) and flooding (we've got no flood insurance, as we're not in a flood plain - but hurricanes aren't discriminating when it comes to flood plains). Hubby and I lost nearly everything in Andrew in 1992, and we do not want to go through that again.

Hurricanes suck. Rita, begone!

In Memory of Bennie

My sister's beloved Keeshound, Bennie, passed away yesterday. My heart is just breaking for her, especially since she lost her other Keeshound, Kalie, barely six weeks ago.

I am sitting here in tears thinking about you, Tnk. I am so sorry for your loss.

I love you.

The dangers of loving your Dyson too much

Disclaimer: I still love that goofy-looking little yellow machine more than I love egg rolls. But I have come to the conclusion that it is bad for me. Very very bad.

My tennis elbow *snicker* (that terminology used to describe my problem still cracks me up) - I mean, my repetitive motion injury - had gotten better since I started working out at Curves. I was so happy because that meant that I apparently didn't need to do any other physical therapy for my arm. I was on the mend! And ahead of schedule, to boot.

Then Little.Yellow.Different. entered my life last Saturday, and I became a total vacuuming ho. I vacuumed our entire 3000 sf house, including the tile floors and wood floors. I even hoovered our sofa, recliner, and two wingback chairs. Who does wingback chairs? (Okay, if YOU do, don't tell me because I'll feel bad that I haven't done it in five years. Bleh.)

As it turns out, vacuuming is repetitive motion at its finest. The next day my arm was throbbing again. It was then that I realized my greatest fear: the new love of my life had betrayed me. Oh, the agony.

So ... this morning I took two painkillers, then went to the drugstore to purchase a new arm support band. Yes, I am that devoted to my Dyson: I shall drug myself and wrap up my injured limbs in order to keep the dream alive!

Now if someone could tell me how to channel that devotion into laundry, I'd be forever grateful.

Same old stuff

Not. SOOOO. Not.

Out with the old...














(Can you see where I'm going with this? Wheee!!!!!)







In with the new:













Now I can make all the same "Woweee!" comments that every new Dyson owner makes. So, Wowee!!! Also, let me add "Gross!" I can't believe the yuck that was in our carpets and on our sofa. I even did the "vacuum with the old machine, then with the Dyson to see what the old one left behind." Geez, was the old one even sucking? Maybe, but not in a vacuumey kind of way.

Tomorrow I tackle the mattresses.

Hold me.

Anyhoo ... I got a really good deal on the vacuum, and it wasn't even on sale (do they EVER go on sale?). Hubby had told me many times to "go ahead and buy it, already!" But I'm quite a frugalite (well, most of the time) and was not going to do so unless I could save money on it. I set myself a goal of saving $100.

Lofty? Yep. But I did it.

Here's how:

• We had bought a new dryer back in July, and for that Home Depot sent me a $25 gift card.
• plus...
• Hubby was given a $50 American Express gift card from work for doing a good job, and he gave it to me. (Hubs, you rock.)
• plus...
• I used a "10% off any Home Depot purchase" coupon. That's worth $39.99 on the Dyson, so ...

All told, I saved $114.99 on my new toy! Happy dance, happy dance! Think "Snoopy"-kind of happy dance, and you'll know how I feel right now.

I told hubby that for my birthday, he could give me a note that says "Here's your Dyson." That would be more than enough for me.

It has been a good day. How's your day been?

Why I'm joining Curves (part 1)

Today I went to my local Curves gym. Around here, you can't swing a dead cat without hitting one. (Okay, I want to know what on earth would possess someone to swing a dead cat? That just can't be hygienic. Yuck.)

For anyone who's re-reading this, I edited out the disgusting part about someone actually swinging a dead cat.

Anyway.

I've been nervous about joining Curves because I am somewhat shy and worried about everyone looking at me. Plus I was afraid they would weigh me in public, which I always hate. I mean, I'm not overweight, but I've never been terribly thin, either. The scale is not my friend.

But my doctor's visit last week took care of the scale issue. There is no debating with those nurses - you get your tooshie on that scale or else. I did so, and while not terribly unhappy with what the scale said, I would still love to lose ten pounds or so by my birthday (which is November 3rd, so you may want to start shopping now. I'm just saying.).

So, having set aside my fear of a piece of metal and a dial (how stupid am I?), this morning finds me standing nervously at the entrance to Curves. I was motioned in by a lady at the front desk, so in I went. She looked at me expectantly, and I blurted out, "I want ... um ... sign up?" (Not cool at all. I felt like Chandler on "Friends" - "I want to quit the gym!") Dork.

Now this brings me to the reason I'm joining Curves: Despite my blatant "I'm-ready-to-part-with-thirty-bucks-a-month; here's-my-checkbook" intro, the nice lady says that they are offering a one-week-free deal, and that I could check it out for a few days before I sign up. I was like, what? No hard sell? What kind of establishment is this? Surely I was missing something.

But nope. I went on in, and the nice lady didn't even weigh me today! Woo-hoo! (That comes when I sign up "for real" next week.) Instead, she taught me the proper use of every single machine, and how the circuit worked. Music plays in the background, and every 30 seconds a voice automatically says "switch." There is no question about how long someone's been on a piece of equipment - you keep it moving. And once every few minutes, the voice tells everyone to stop and take their heart rate.

Half an hour later, I was flushed and exhilarated! I've never enjoyed a workout so much. And at the end, I got to go into a stretching/cooldown room, where a huge mirror hangs on one wall. One of the owners painted across the top "Objects in mirror may be smaller than they appear," which I thought was great.

All the ladies I met today were so sweet, too. I'm pretty sure I'm one of the youngest ones there, which makes me feel like I've got a real shot to get into shape before my birthday.

Which is November 3rd, y'all.

Science, hold the Fiction

Background, per emails between hubby and myself and K's science teacher:

I wrote to Hubby: K got a 71 (D) on last Friday's Honors science test, and a 63 (F) on the major lab they did at the same time. One of the deductions was "-5 for using pen instead of pencil." Give me a break - his mechanical pencil had broken, and it was the middle of a test, during which time the teacher won't let the kids up from their desks.

I wrote to Science teacher: Dear Ms. G, Wow, that was an awful test grade K brought home today. I want you to know that he studied every night (along with his dad and me) for several days before the test. We are all shocked at his score - him most of all. He is sitting here with tears of frustration running down his cheeks. As much work as he puts into this class, I can't say I blame him. Do you have any suggestions?

Ms. G wrote me back: Dear Ms. K's mom, I think moving to "regulars" will help with K's frustration level. I will talk to the counselor about this today, but you might also want to try and call her to see if that will speed things up. (In other words, don't let the proverbial door hit K in his proverbial butt.)

Me in Real Life: This morning I went to K's school to meet with his counselor. I told her that I wanted his science class switched, as his grades and self-esteem were plummeting each passing day. So lickety-split, she moved him into another science class. Same period and everything, which is great. We were worried that changing teachers would mess up his entire schedule; fortunately, that particular worry was all for naught.

K had a test today in his new science class, and he came home very happy about it. He said that all his studying had paid off, because he felt very confident about it. I am so happy for him. It's nice to see my child with a spring in his step again.

And hey - I think I found *my* springy step, too!

Off topic: Tonight I cooked dinner for the inlaws. I made Kimmer's awesome pork tenderloin with balsamic-cranberry sauce (only I made it with pork chops instead). It was To.Die.For. Everyone LOVED it. So Kimmer, I owe you one. Thanks so much! :)

Shout Outs

To EMT sis - Yay, you're a bloggin' mama now. Can't wait to read about all your Emu hijinks (once you're fully functional again). heehee

To Tnk - Yay for you, too! As funny as you are, I'm going to check for updates on your blog frequently, too. Props to the PoPo!

To Papi - I'm so glad I got you into blogging, too. Your writing talents are muy underappreciated - let's get out there and get you some exposure!

To T & J - Win anything this week? How's my inheritance coming along? ;)

To My In-Laws - Congrats, A, on your big court win! Boppa & Beaner - see ya tomorrow. C - uh, wassup? ;-)

To Kimmer, Shelly, and Katie - Thank you SO much for all the comments you guys leave on my blog. You make me feel so loved. ;) (((hugs))) to you all!

To Jen - I'm sorry I made you cry with my last blog entry. I lubs you.

To Diet Coke - You are wonderful. In fact, you're so addictive, there's probably some kind of illegal substance within your refreshing goodness. But I care not!

To Fried Cheese Sticks from Sonic - Simply put, you suck. My thighs and I hate you hate you hate you, you with all your tempting gooey goodness. Die!

To K's Science Teacher - You are evil in a whole different way. Go with the cheese sticks! :(

To All My Family Who Now Have Access To My Blog - Be nice to me or I'll run crying to all my Internet homies!

Quickie update on me, cuz I know you all care:

My arm still hurts. Not continuously, but continually.
I am bored with all the Accounting reading (but I plow ahead nonetheless).
Tomorrow my inlaws are coming for dinner, and I don't know what to cook.
But I'm a successful procrastinator, so I shall figure it out and amaze the masses!
(Amoo - if you and C want to come for dinner, please feel free to do so.)
I just issued my first official dinner invitation over the Internet. I feel so empowered!

And now, I'll leave you with this: Why does the light at the end of *my* tunnel always turn out to be a freight train?

Reflections

Not the looking-in-the-mirror kind, mind you. I'm speaking of the soul-searching kind.

Last night I went out with one of my best friends from high school. Jen and I met at a speech tournament when we were in junior high, but didn't become close until we joined the drill team in 9th grade (or was it 10th?). Anyway, we've always had so much to talk about - nothing overly cerebral; primarily dishing about who we've kept in touch with since high school - and last night was no exception. Except that this time there was a tinge of melancholy in our conversation ... an air of "have I done enough with my life?" and "am I really happy?"

Naturally, we all have these feelings from time to time. And we all reminisce about what could have been. Or should have been. Or, thank God, wasn't. As we strolled through the Marketplace, Jen and I often enjoyed a comfortable silence. Every now and then, we'd look into a shop window and ooh and aah about the luxurious furniture or beautiful clothing inside, but for the most part we just ambled around the park, our thoughts running hither and yon.

Things have changed over the past few years. I don't know if it's because we're both more mature now, but something is different. Initially, I thought it was because we're at different places in our lives, but I honestly don't think that's it. We're both married with children (although hers at four and almost two are considerably younger than my brood; thus our daily child-rearing experiences are very different), we're both going to college (another delayed regret on both our parts), and we both have very similar value systems. Plus, we truly like each other.

I don't know. In a way, I cherish this new chapter in our relationship. The chattiness we've always enjoyed has been replaced (albeit temporarily, I'm sure) with the feeling of it's-enough-to-know-you're-there. At least, that's how *I* feel. I hope she feels the same way....

Eventually the children will grow up, and Jen and I will grow old. I look forward to the day when we can while away an afternoon together and pretend to feel the freedom of youth once again. We can do that, can't we?

Angel love to you always, Jen.

Tennis, anyone?

Today I finally went to the doctor about my arm. Yay me.

Background: The week after we moved into this house, I decided that I could no longer live with the paisley-and-floral regurgitation that was splayed across the walls in our formal dining room. So I spent nine-plus hours taping, moving furniture, priming, and painting - two coats of primer; three coats of paint. Up and down the ladder, wheee!

The next day, I could not lift my right arm.

Since then - and that's been over two months now - I want to scream whenever I have to lift something like a milk jug or a suitcase or a child. I have taken Motrin, Tylenol, Aspirin, and even prescription muscle relaxants (from a former injury), all to no avail. It seems that the pain has taken up permanent residence in my arm.

I finally caved in yesterday and made an appointment to have it checked out. The doctor puts me through a bunch of "does this hurt?" ("Yes") and "don't let me push your arm down" ("Quit pushing it, then") tests, then finally comes up with a diagnosis:

Tennis Elbow.

That's a fancy name for "repetitive motion owie." It must be - I haven't touched a tennis racket in nearly 20 years. But I *did* pack up nearly our entire 2,600 sf house practically by myself, then unpacked all that junk by myself. The icing on the cake was the painting of the dining room. Ta-da!

So now I'm sporting a lovely putty-colored brace-like contraption on my right arm.

Tennis, anyone?

T.T.T.

I have started and re-started this entry four times now. The paragraph went from a novel: "the moment a baby is placed into our arms..." to the simpler: "why don't kids come with an instruction manual?" to the desperate: "never mind; I just need a hug." I'm leaning towards the latter, as I am completely spent from dealing with frustrating teachers and front-office wenches who do not deliver messages.

Nutshell:

K is not doing well academically or emotionally in Honors Science.

Teacher's attitude is "tough tookies."

My gander: Up.

Pounding out of email from frustrated mama ensues.

Tough Tookies email response from teacher is received.

T.T. Teacher implies K may need to be in different class.

Mama puts in call to school counselor.

Three hours later, mama calls again because previous message has apparently been sucked into a void.

Counselor agrees to look into "regular" science class for K.

Mama: now worried about K not wanting to change his schedule.

And on it goes.

Anyone have a Parenting 101 Textbook I can borrow? I just need to see the chapters on "Surviving Sucky Teachers." Thanks.

Sky High

Hubby took the kids and me to see this movie yesterday. It was a great time to go, because unbeknownst to us, the movie theater had a $4 special going on. I don't remember the last time all five of us went to see a movie for $20 (rentals notwithstanding, natch).

The movie was really funny - adults and kids alike will enjoy it. Lynda Carter plays the school principal, and she has a great line near the end of the movie. I won't give it away, but I will say that it *still* has me snickering. Ha!

Personally, I appreciated Sky High mostly (at first) because it was live action and not animated. If I never see another animated flick, it will be too soon. But I digress.

If you get a chance to see Sky High, go for it.

Labor of love

Greetings and salutations! I hope everyone had a good weekend. Ours was pretty good. Saturday was spent cleaning house and shopping, and Sunday we celebrated the in-law's 40th anniversary in style.

I'd hired a limousine to drive us around all night, and it got to our house around 6:00. Hubby, his sister, her husband, our three kids, and I all piled in. The limo was supposed to seat ten, but it was sure cozy in there! We then drove over to the in-law's house to pick them up. All this had been kept a secret from them, but somehow dad-in-law figured it out. (He also shakes his Christmas presents before he opens them; a habit I've been working nearly fifteen years to break him of. Grrr....)

After gathering the parents, we took the kids to my stepdad's for the evening. Everyone thought it was cool that they drove up in a limo - J (stepdad's girlfriend) even had her video camera out. She is such a cutie.

Then we adults headed to dinner at a really nice restaurant called Perry's. Wow, cha-ching. Of course, money was no object on such a special occasion, but still, wow. The food was very good, the service was outstanding, and the company was great. We'd all split a bottle of wine in the car, then had two more bottles at dinner, so all six of us were quite sparkly-eyed. I recall a lot of laughing, but I don't recall what we were laughing about. Figures.

After dinner, the limo brought us all back to our house, where we had this amazing cake that sis-in-law had ordered. She had the cake-lady recreate the original wedding cake, which I thought was the coolest idea ever. We'd gussied up the formal dining room, so it looked very weddingy in there.

Overall, I think the parents were surprised and pleased with how things turned out. So happy anniversary again, Mom and Dad. We love you!

(Denine, they share your anniversary - I was thinking of you all day, too!) :)

Next month: OUR 15th anniversary. Whatever shall we do?

Who's hiding the wedding bells?

How hard is it to find simple, white plastic wedding bells, a'la this:

I'll tell you - it's darn near impossible. I've been to five stores - FIVE! - looking for the bells so that I can recreate the decoration on the top of this cake for my in-law's 40th anniversary this weekend. And I can't find the darn things. I've tried Party City, Hobby Lobby, Michaels, another no-name party store, and even Big Lots (where I found a large bag of white silk flower petals for less than a dollar! Score!), but no bells.

I finally made a desperate trip to Garden Ridge Pottery this morning. Success at last. That $2.99 bag of bells (the very last bag, by the way - guess they're not as "out of style" as I'd been told) probably ended up costing me $15 in gas and untold amounts of stress. But [deep cleansing breath] my wonderful in-laws are worth it, aren't they? ;)

Doctor doctor

Ever have one of those nights where you're so afraid something is terribly wrong with your child? And you crawl into bed with them to watch them sleep? And they get annoyed in their sleep because, come on mom, you're crowding my space? And you're like, I don't care; as long as I'm looking at you, you won't die?

Does anyone know what I mean? Or have I completely fallen out of touch with reality?

Loco or not, I had that experience last night. R, my 9-year-old, has been complaining that his legs "really hurt" sometimes. This has been going on for over a year now. I had taken him to the doctor in Podunk, Texas, who looked R over and announced in so many words that growing pains are a bitch, son. I let it go for a long time, until ...

... yesterday. Then R came home from school crying and telling me that he had fallen down twice on the way to the bus. No, he was not tripped. No, he was not pushed. His legs just gave out.

Then the kicker: "It's not just my leg. My chest really hurts, mom. On the inside."

Oh
My
God.

I gave him some Motrin for the pain, because that is all I know how to do. Motrin is the great cure-all around here (read: the kids like the flavor and that is all they will take and Tylenol makes them throw up and yuck and therefore I don't even buy that red crap anymore). After an hour or so, R tells me that the pressure in his chest is down "some."

So, la la la, evening goes on. But then - da da DUM! - night has the audacity to fall. How DARE it get dark when I'm worried about my kid? Doesn't the dark know that kids get sicker and moms get panickier when the sun goes down? How rude of nightness.

Thus my trek into R's room, where he is sleeping soundly and breathing just fine. I climbed up onto the top bunk (didn't know I had it in me, didja?) and rested with him for awhile. Well, HE rested. I cried and worried. After awhile, I realized that I needed to get some sleep or else I'd go crazy, so I crawled back down and went back to bed with hubby. Who, by the way, was not sleeping either. (You're a good daddy, hubby.)

This morning R was fine, except for the limp. I sent him to school, but immediately looked up a doctor on our insurance and made an appointment. So today was a short school day for R. Funny, I didn't hear any complaints about that.... Anyway, the doctor spent a lot of time with R (Dr. L, you rock), and after much poking and prodding and manipulations of the legs, told us that R had strained his calf muscle but good, and he needed to rest it for at least a week. Then he gave R a "No P.E." pass that is good for a week. After that time, if R is still hurting, we're to go back.

Hmm, no running around in this Texas heat? What a tragedy. Bleh.

By the way, R's heart and lungs sounded perfect, and the doc thinks R either ate his lunch too fast, or had a little anxiety about the falling down episodes. Or both. He said that if the chest pains continue, we can do more tests, but for now he's not worried at all. The leg muscle was the only real problem today.

So there you have it. Looks like my little guy is going to be okay. And tonight, I plan to stay in my own bed and dream of happy things. Like maybe a shiny new Dyson!

Yesterday's theme: Tex Mex

I drove down to hubby's office to have lunch with him for the first time yesterday. Finally got to meet the peeps! None of them look the way I'd pictured them, which may or may not be a good thing. heh

We ate lunch at a little place called Berry Hill. They serve burritos and enchiladas and the like - but this ain't your mama's Tex-Mex fare, nosirree. My burrito was as big as a dinner plate and very spicy (yum!). It also cost $8.99, but what do you expect in the Houston Galleria area? The food was good, but the company was better. I lubs my dh.

As we left the restaurant, we couldn't find the car for a minute - which totally freaked us both out because (1) it's a 10-year-old POS, and (b) we've been through the stolen-car thing before. We eventually found our little Saturn behind a large Cadillac SUV. I think the poor car was intimidated by all the rich cars and got embarrassed and decided to hide.

Last night we had hubby's mother over for dinner. I made fajitas (hmm, I see a food pattern here), which were good. The homemade guacamole was awesome. Thanks, mom, for passing that recipe down to me. I miss you.

What else did I do yesterday ... ? Well, I dropped my government class because the professor has a screw loose. I'll be re-registering for government with another prof, who came highly recommended by one of my friends. (Thanks, J! I love ya! [waving]) Accounting class starts in two weeks, and THAT one I'm looking forward to.

Well, gotta get outta here and gas up the car quickly because the gas prices have shot through the roof around here (thanks for NOTHING, Katrina). I also told K I'd take him to school today, so I'd better get right on that.

Y'all have a good day now, ya hear?

Now playing: Wookin' pa nub

(That's "Looking for Love," Eddie Murphy-style, for those who may have missed the SNL episode. :)

Not much going on today. I got sick Saturday night (more like Sunday wee-hours) and have been feeling sluggish since. I think I ate something "wrong" at the party on Saturday, and it decided to make a reappearance in the middle of the night. Sorry, I know that's icky.

After the, um, episode, I laid down on the bathroom floor because the tiles were nice and cool on my pounding head and lurching stomach. Hubby came upstairs and found me there, and said it looked like I'd been shot. In retrospect, that sounds pretty funny. heh. Wouldn't have been quite as amusing if he'd been right, methinks.

Today I'm not as nauseated, but my head hurts. I think I may be a bit dehydrated, so I've been drinking decaf tea and hoping that would cure what ails me. It helped somewhat; I feel a little better, but still may need to take some Tylenol. I hate headaches.

It just started raining really hard here. I mean JUST - like while I was typing "Tylenol." Now I'm hearing loud thunderclaps. You know what this means? It means I get to wade down the driveway and greet the school buses with an umbrella. Not a particularly enticing thought, but the kids appreciate it, which makes it all worthwhile.

Off to roll up the legs of my jeans and find that umbrella....

(Oh, and now playing is "Every Morning" by Sugar Ray. :)

Stuffing Priscilla

BWAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!

I haven't watched "Trading Spaces" in over a year, but OMG tonight's episode had me on the floor! I love whoever at TLC came up with the idea to trick Doug and Hildi - never were there two individuals more deserving of a prank than they.

In order to understand the title, you'll have to watch the show. Here's a quick preview for you.

[mwah!] to the Trading Spaces crew. You gave me the best belly laugh I've had in ages. Thanks. =D

Party animal

The party was a success! Both honorees were completely surprised, which was great because gimpy sis and I had gone through a lot to ensure that certain information did not reach certain people. My police-sister loved the donut "cake," which was decorated on the fly with two tubes of icing that I didn't realize were tip-less (in other words, the donuts had gloppy frosting spilling down the sides instead of the pretty little florets I wanted to do). It was a yummy success anyway, and I'll ask sis to send me the picture she took so I can post it.

The other cake (for sdad's S.O.) was a delicious red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting. This cake may well have been the most delicious cake I've ever had. Props to the Kroger bakery.

We spent the day visiting with the family, and the kids spent a few hours in the pool. They had a great time, and I'm so glad they got to go because this may very well be their last dip until next summer - since school started, our neighborhood pool is closed more than it is open. Phooey.

Well, I'm exhausted and will be heading to bed soon. I was up very late last night helping sis because she was having a rough time with some surgery issues. I feel for her. She was much better today, so hopefully she's back on track to a full recovery.

Completely unrelated, yet worth noting: Kroger had vine-ripened tomatoes this week, which smelled so fresh I felt like I'd just picked them myself. I wouldn't recommend putting them on cake, though. :)

Stressed

Must be a recurring theme around these parts. Seems like everyone's feeling it right now. I guess it's because the lazy days of summer are behind us.

I've got a gajizillion things to do today in preparation for a double-whammy surprise party tomorrow. (How do I get myself into these things? Oh yeah, it's because I love my family; all of them, darn it.) Anyway, we're having a surprise "congratulations" party for my sister for successfully graduating from the police academy, plus a surprise "happy birthday" party for my s-dad's significant other. Best of all, they're simultaneous parties! Fun! I'm freakin' nuts!

So ... today I am taking other sis to physical therapy at 10:30, then taking her home and making sure she's comfy and fed, then straightening up her house because tomorrow's parties are at her house cuz she has a pool. Then I have to come home, meet two school buses - both of which had BETTER have all my kids on them! I'm going to be counting heads, so look out, bus driver people! - and get the kids snack'ed and homework'ed. Then I have to pack because I'm going back to sis's house to spend the night and decorate the house for tomorrow.

Sometime today I also need to go to the college bookstore and buy my government and accounting textbooks. And I have to get a birthday cake, and some donuts (police-sis's "cake" will be made of donuts. Get it? I crack myself up!) And I want to run by the dollar store and get some little trinkety handcuffs and other such police decor.

But first, I have to get K on the bus, which comes in 7 minutes.

Do you think I have time for a nap?

Just had to share

I love this picture. P attended an etiquette class this summer, and this was taken on her graduation day. She loves dressing up, so she was totally in her element.

Dang!

Well, we're not going to Italy. Hubby thinks it would be better to spend Thanksgiving here with the children, so here we shall stay. I am terribly disappointed. I love my kids with all my heart, and I would miss them like crazy, but at the same time I hate that we're passing up a pretty good opportunity. [pout] [stamp] [grumble] [throw something] [I didn't really throw anything] [but I wanted to]

Hubby already knows I'm blue about this decision, so all my rantings are just for you guys. Aren't you lucky? Whee!

Onward ...

I spent today with my sis (ACL-surgery sis, that is). I took her to physical therapy, which is apparently some kind of medieval torture chamber wherein they stretch you out to ungodly shapes and then beat you down with insults like "wimp." Sis thinks the PT guy had a former career in a touchy-feely field, like drill sergeant or junior high coach.

Speaking of the family gimps (that's our loving term for my limp-y sis), hubby's grandmother is now out of the hospital but is in convalescent care. She does seem to be improving, which is wonderful news. Thanks to all who put her on their prayer lists and in their thoughts. You guys rock!

This afternoon, all kidlets made it home and accounted for with no major problems. Props to the bus! Keep up the good dropping off! But of course there is a school supply "need" - R has to take tweezers to class tomorrow. He said they're going to dissect "something." Er, okay...

I don't even want to know. (I betcha Italy knows, though.)

Home again, home again

The kids, that is. I had to wait outside so that the new driver on R & P's bus would stop, but K made it home just fine.

I'm sick to death of the bus problems. But darn it, the buses are there for a reason. I shouldn't have to drive the kids to school every day just because the drivers for this district are idjits. Plus, no one wants to see me in my robe and curlers at 7:00 a.m., that's for sure.

Hubby is having a terrible day at work. His boss is a numbnuts, and she is making his life (thus, our lives) miserable. Thanks for nothing, beyotch. Here's a novel idea: try a little more ... oh, I don't know ... communicating, could you?

I spent the day taking care of my sister (remember, the one who had ACL surgery?) and helping her out around the house. She always feels very guilty when people help her, but what she doesn't realize is that we're glad to do it! So sis, please, stop feeling guilty and worrying about any of us doing too much. Trust me, we won't do too much. We're much too lazy for that, ya know.

Guess I'd better get dinner started. Tonight will be a mishmash of spaghetti squash, ricotta, parmesan, ground beef, mushrooms, tomatoes, and pickles. Okay, maybe no pickles. That would be gross.

Revenge of the bus

Today K's bus comes by at 4:10. I am stoked because this means all my little chicks are back in the nest early. Only - they're not. The bus stops and one person gets off. And it ain't K.

So I turn into Flo Jo and take off running around the block, trying to flag the bus driver down. Naturally, he does not see me. So I race back home, grab the car keys, and drive like a madwoman toward the school, all the while hoping that I'll either catch up to the bus or find that K just happened to miss it and was waiting patiently for me in front of the school (yeah, right).

Meanwhile, I'm calling 411 and trying to get the number to the school so that they can tell me if my baby is sitting there crying and wanting his mommy. In all my panicking, I give the nice lady at 411 the name of the wrong school. Hello! We've moved! K no longer goes to WMS, idiot. That only took me two tries (and $2.50) to figure out.

Sooooo ... I call home while pulling into the parking lot of the school. I am met with the answering machine and continue to babble into it "helloooooo, it's moommmmm, pick up the phoooone, I'm going to keep talking until you dooooo..." until finally R picks up. He says, "Sorry I didn't answer sooner, mom. I was unlocking the front door for K."

Mixed feelings of anger and relief wash over me. I ask to talk to K, who comes to the phone in tears because he missed his stop and had to walk three blocks to get home, and now thinks I'm mad at him (okay, I was, a little). Now, a little walking won't kill anyone, but the bus driver annoys me - he told K "this is my last stop; you have to get off. Your street is that way," and jerks his finger backwards. Then he put.my.child.off.the.bus.

The more I think about it, the madder I get. I seriously doubt that tossing a kid off the bus is protocol. K is new to the area. He wasn't sure where he was, and could easily have gotten lost. OMG, we're so lucky he got home in one piece.

I'll be calling to talk to the bus driver's boss tomorrow. Lord, please don't let me get the evil transportation lady ...

For hubby...

Seriously, sign up with Blogger and leave me a comment. I'm not feeling the love yet.

Tapabily! :)

School supplies and Europe

Wassup? (How's that for an intro?)

Yesterday, K and I went shopping to get him a new binder for school. (Again with the school supplies!) He asked for a larger one "like Jonathan's" (whoever that is). We found a cool binder at Office Depot, but naturally it was pricey ($15 is pricey, is it not?). The frugalite in me was screaming with every fiber of her being, but I shushed her, sucked it up, and bought the darn binder. I figure it will be good for K to have at school because it has an outside pouch wherein he can put extra class folders, thus rectifying his have-to-go-to-the-locker-between-every-class issue.

Don't worry, I calmed my inner frugalite with some clearance-rack goodies. She's okay now.

Before we went to Office Depot, we went to Supercuts to get K a much-needed trim. The kid has fabulous thick hair, but it grows too fast. He's Sasquatch, y'all. Well, at least on his head.

Anyway, as we were walking into Supercuts, K asked if I'd locked the car. I said yes, and he said oh, I didn't hear the "beep." I told him I'd just pressed the door lock when we got out of the car. What I failed to mention (or realize) was that it would have been hard for me to "beep" the car because, well, the keys were in the car.

Luckily, we don't live far from the stores we were visiting, so I called home and told hubby to come save us. Five minutes later, my knight in shining Saturn drove up and unlocked the car. I'm sure he was thinking what a dork I was ... and this time, he wouldn't have been wrong.

Oh, I do have a bit of potentially exciting news: Hubby and I have an opportunity to go to Italy this fall! Hubs' sis and her hubs (confused yet? ha!) are going, and they invited us to come along. It's a "pay your own way and take your own flight but hey we can all stay at the same hotel but not on all the same nights and hey you look fabulous, have you lost weight" kind of deal. Or something like that. Anyway, hubby and I are both very excited (thanks for the offer, A & C!) and hope we get to go on the trip.

Now I have to get a passport, which costs $97, I think. That's peanuts compared to the rest of the trip, but it's something I gotta do now. I just hope the person in my passport pic doesn't look like the chick in my driver's license picture. Yikes.

Today I'm back in laundry mode - a necessity, since there are not one but THREE mountains of laundry waiting for me. Naturally, here I sit at the computer. Hey, don't judge me - you're here, too.

Anyway, I guess I'd better get back to it. Ah, the exciting life of a suburbanite.

So tired

I even took a nap today, and still I'm tired.

This morning I watched K mow the front yard for the very first time. I was so proud. He was so sweaty. I had to redo a couple of small passes, but overall, he did a great job.

Tomorrow he tackles the backyard.

Hubby and I bought a new ceiling fan for the guest room today. That room never did have a fan, which I don't understand - we live in Texas, which means that a fan is mandatory equipment for every single bedroom. I hope the FBI doesn't catch on that the previous owners of this house had a room without one.

(yawn) Have I mentioned that I'm tired?

Nothing exciting happened today. Oh, except that I was *thisclose* to getting a Dyson. I even took it off the shelf and pushed it around Lowes. I would have been willing to vacuum the store, but they wouldn't let me plug it in, the meanies.

Ended up going home without it (pout), but I think hubby is still a little gunshy of the price tag. I do have a 10% off coupon, but maybe that just wasn't enough. Hey, maybe you guys can help - If you can do better than 10% off at Home Depot, Lowes, Target, or even Linens and Things, please point me in the right direction. Bed Bath & Beyond sucks, by the way, because in my 20% off coupon for them, it says in the fine print that Dysons aren't included. Phooey.

Well, I'm heading to bed now. I reckon I'll have Dyson dreams tonight. ;)

Crabby

Today's rant will cover school supplies and office beyotches. If these topics do not interest you, feel free to start up a FreeCell game. Also, I am crabby, which will either make this post really interesting or really jumpy-all-over-the-placey.

Okay, a few weeks ago, I paid a bunch of money for prepackaged school supplies for my 7th grader. At the time, I thought it was great - we'd just moved to the area and I was uncertain if this district was particular about brand names and such. (My niece's school requires Crayola crayons, Mead folders, Expo markers, etc. *NO* off-brand products or they'll tie you up and give you 30 lashes with a wet noodle or something.). I figured the school would have everything exactly as they wanted it right in that nice little package. Okay, it wasn't exactly little - hubby could have used it for bench pressing - but you get the drift.

So why is it that every day K comes home with a new list? Nearly every teacher has told the kids to get a new three-ring binder and a Duo-Tang folder and a spiral notebook for each class. And that's at the very least. One also required the kids bring in magazines "that they can cut from." Now, I have three subscriptions, so this last one was not a big problem for me (although admittedly I'll miss my Southern Living issue from March 2001; I am a big SL-saving nut) but I know people without any subscriptions, so are they going to have to go out and buy three magazines for this class? Or do they face the wet noodle?

Ridiculous. How are the kids supposed to fit all this extra stuff into their puny lockers, anyway?

Speaking of lockers: Today was the kicker in "supplies from hell" week. K brought home the entire contents of his locker, including the lock, because he was told that if he had not purchased a combination lock from the school, the school would cut his lock off. Now, I can understand the school needing all the combinations, I suppose, but why couldn't we have just given the combination to the office?

Background: When we first registered K for junior high, I asked about the locks. The counselor specifically told me that purchasing a lock from the office was optional. When I called today to find out what the deal was, and to see if K could just bring his combination to the office, I was told in no uncertain terms that bringing your own lock is NOT OKAY! The woman was yelling at me, seriously. I had to hold the phone away from my hear just to understand her.

Does every school have a bitch in the front office? Homeschooling is sounding better and better every day.

And that is all.

No catchy title comes to mind

Pez tagged me to do a little blurbette about my neighborhood (only she put a cute little "u" in "neighbourhood" - I love that), so that is how I shall start my blog today.

When did you move to the neighbourhood?

We moved into this house on July 1st of this year. Previously, we lived in a little 'burb of Austin, Texas, where nothing ever happened, but if it did, all four of the town's cops showed up to check it out.

What is your favourite part of the neighbourhood?

Like Pez, I love my house! It's far and away the nicest place I've ever lived - or ever dreamed of living. There are other nice parts of the subdivision, but my hands-down fave is this very house. Of course, the family that dwells within these four walls plays a big part in my love of the place.

What is your favourite place to visit around these parts?

That's a tough one, as Houston has SO many options. I used to really enjoy going downtown and having dinner at the spinning restaurant atop the Hyatt Regency (not sure if the restaurant is still there). In my little neck of the woods, my favorite place to hang out is Old Town Spring.

Where would you suggest someone new to your region should visit?

NASA's Johnson Space Center, which is located about an hour from where I live, is definitely a do-not-miss. Reliant Stadium and Minute Maid Park are also really cool to visit (confession: I've been to Reliant, but only during the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo. Never been to MMP, but have heard it's freakin' awesome!) Anyway, I think that taking in a football or baseball game in a town I'm visiting is always a fun experience.

In other news ...

R & P's school bus got home 80 minutes late yesterday. I was beside myself with worry. I called transportation twice, but was given the "oh, everything's late, don't concern yourself" spiel until I gritted my teeth and said, "Look, my children are out there somewhere, and I'm scared to DEATH! I need to know something!" That did the trick - transportation lady (probably not the previously-mentioned one) immediately found their bus and told me what was going on. (For the record, they were short on drivers and my kids' route had to wait at school until another elementary route was done and the bus returned to the school before they got to load. The children sat in the gym for over an hour. NO parents were informed. Grrrr...)

Today, R & P were dropped off - at our front door, no less - 17 minutes after school let out. I think that's a new record.

K did not have a great day at school yesterday (darn, I was hoping his happy-streak would last more than a day). He was assigned all his textbooks, and they are HEAVY. These kids have tiny little lockers, so there's no way all those books will fit. And - they're not allowed to take their backpacks to any class. So that leaves 1100 kids toting around heavy books all day long. I mean, not that it will kill the kids or anything, but I know *I* wouldn't enjoy carting around 20 pounds of books between every class. Although it would tone up my arms quite nicely...

Sorry, I got off topic there. I have no solutions for K, short of making friends with a giant-bicep'ed dude (or chick; hey, I'm not picky) who will cart his books to class for him. If you have a better idea, I'd love to hear it. Just click on "Comments" and post away!

Today was filled with the excitement of laundry. I am so very bored. I can't even find any fun websites to surf. If you have any suggestions, please feel free to click on that "Comments" thingy.

I keep forgetting to mention that I'm low-carbing again. I figure if I mention it here, you guys can keep me honest. And no, I will not put a webcam on my fridge (not that that's a bad idea, mind you); you'll just have to trust me. Anyway, today is Day Three of my diet, and I've been doing pretty well. Except for the following: Night before last, I had about a quarter-cup of dump cake, and last night I had six pieces of onion from Chili's Awesome Blossom (sinful, that).

In preparation for this diet, the other day I threw away half a box of Oreo cookies and a package of yummmmmmmmy yogurt pretzels. There are currently two very-tempting fortune cookies sitting on the counter, but those (and the tortilla chips in my pantry) are my "tests." If I can withstand the call of their delectable goodness, I can do anything!

I've decided to name our house "As The Grass Grows." The lawn is long enough to warrant a letter from The Association (buh bum BUM!!!). I hate that. I did try to mow this morning, but the humidity was so high that I felt faint just getting the mower started and gave up. Then it rained here again this afternoon, so there ya go.

I am the queen of excuses, can you tell?

Guess I'd better get back to the hill of laundry. Hey, this morning it was a mountain, so I guess I'm making progress. Ah, what lowly heights I aspire to these days...

Have a good evening, everyone. And remember, you're never too old to start something new. Well, yes, you could be too old. But that takes all the fun out of that saying.