Rock the Cradle of Love

There's no other reason for that title than that I've got the song in my head.

I think I may have a summer cold coming on. Or I just need to clean up all the dust in my house. It's probably the latter.

I got my $0.99 jeans today and I must say, I am a satisfied customer. They are already broken in for me which is awesome. It's weird though because they are the same type of jean, same size, but one pair is longer than the other. Not a problem, just weird. I know have a bid on some khaki pants on ebay. We'll see how that works out. Pretty soon I'll be buying groceries off of there.

So, we sold Ross's car. RIP Honda Civic Si. But now we get to pay off my car, have some left over, and not have a car payment every month anymore. Having one car is working out fine now, but we haven't had a rainy day yet. We shall see.

I sat on, I mean *for* Remus today. We played on the floor, practiced his sitting up skills, he chewed on his hand a lot because he finally cut his first tooth, and we danced around a lot. Then he started screaming, I fed him, and he passed out. I'm going to start calling myself "The Baby Whisperer."

I'm starting to hate the children who live next door to me. They yell and scream all day long. All. Day. Long. And they lose their dog all the time and are constantly calling her name. From this post you all know that I don't like it when such things happen. The worst part is, her name is "Mocha Cappuccino Jones." Seriously. And they call her entire name when she runs off, I guess so she won't get confused, what with all of the other Mocha Cappuccinos out there. I don't know how to spell Cappuccino. Fortunately I *can* spell Mocha and Jones.

I get to see my good friend Abby from UR tomorrow. She and her fiance are in town. I love love love Abby, but haven't seen her since my wedding. She was the only English major who I didn't want to punch in the face. As an English major myself, I wanted to punch myself in the face, because I was a really lousy/dumb/lazy/Cliff's notes reading English major (to clarfiy: I read the Cliff's notes because I didn't read the books, not because I didn't understand things. I'm *sure* I would have completely have grasped any and all material, because, after all, I was an English major). Anyway, Abby is crazy smart but not the kind of smart where she's a jerk. I'm very excited to see her.

Ok, time to go what a movie with my husband.

xoxo

What did you like best?

I watched the beginning of City of Angels today (Nicolas Cage at his most attractive, I think, and Meg Ryan pre-collagen). I just saw the part where as Seth is taking the little girl to heaven, he asks her what she liked best. She said pajamas with feet.

What would you say you liked best?

Status: Thrifty

I just got two pairs of jeans off of ebay for $0.99 each. The shipping is $6.95 each, bringing to just over $13.00. For jeans that are normally $58.00, I think that's pretty damn good. AND I woke up to 6 emails from people wanting to buy Ross's car. I'm going to have MILLIONS, I tell you, MILLIONS!

And you thought painter's tape was good for one thing.

Back to School

I have to go back to the school where I work on the 28th. We have a new Assistant Principal. She's actually the LD teacher for the 5th grade kids the whole time I've been there, so I know her really well. I'm super excited for her and for the kids because she's awesome.

I go back to *school* starting the week of the 21st. Recertification time is coming up. I was going to take a workshop this summer to get my credits out of the way, but the timeline for registration and me getting reimbursed for it got screwed up, so that idea was out. So, I'll be taking a class at J. Sargeant Reynolds on Oceanography. I can take this because I teach Science. The lecture is every Thursday night, and there's online stuff, too. I haven't been to school in a while, so we'll see how I do. I've already started getting excited about getting to take notes, because I'm a loser. And I want to know how I'm supposed to get my books. Do they have books there? What if I don't want to read the books? I'm sure everything will be on the Internet anyway.

Here's to more pencils, more books, and lots and lots of teachers' dirty looks. From me, not at me.

Sassy lady

Setting: Bejamin Franklin Craft Store, Richmond VA. Early afternoon.

Sassy lady: (yelling across three checkout lanes) Are those your eyelashes?!?!?

Me: Me?

Sassy lady: Yes, you. Are those your eyelashes?

Me: Yes.

Sassy lady: Dammit. (walks out of the door in a huff, shaking her head)

Me: (blink. blink.)

-Fin-

Thank you, Sassy lady?

Today

Didn't shower.

Sat on a baby. Not really. Rolled around on the floor with a baby.

Had my sister come to visit me on *her* birthday.

Had a wicked headache.

Skipped Bible study to nap.

Woke up from nap choking on my own spit.

Was thankful for gag reflex.

Texted Ross to find out where he and my dinner were.

Ate my dinner.

Talked to Ross on IM from down the hall.

Wondered if Lauren from Laguna Beach was mad that Kristin's (her rival for Stephen's affections on the first season) recent break up was higher up on the People.com "Latest News" column AND included a picture, while hers was a few lines down and only text.

Goodnight, friends.

A campaign for Anna

The following is an email from my good friend from UR, Anna. She calls herself "Fat Anna." Fat Anna lives in Reno which is far too far away. I often tell people that Anna is the funniest person I know. Now I have proof. Please read the email below and then comment on how she should have a blog so her humor can be shared with all.

So, if I was Dave Barry, I would have an excellent topic to write an article on right now...my dog. I have two dogs, actually. They have an unbelievable ability to entertain me. And by entertain, I mean cause me to want to return them to the pound where they came from. No, not really. I love them like they are my children but Spider came close to roaming the desert of Northern Nevada, looking for a herd of wild springer spaniels to join the other day.

I am an excellent dog owner. If I don't provide opportunity for my dogs to get ample exercise each and every day, I am riddled with guilt. We have a backyard where they can run around but that is not good enough. Not for a dedicated pet owner such as myself. Oh no. We must go to the dog park in order for me to have a clear head and feel as though I will not be arrested by animal control for abusing my animals. Perhaps I should seek help...

The dog park here in Reno is nothing short of amazing. It's about the size of 4 football fields and if you don't obey the laws, there are many trails you can hike on with the dogs off the leash. So, this is where we go on a regular basis to get our exercise. Now the idea behind the park is that other people also bring their dogs and maybe you walk around for a little while but in the end, the dogs exercise each other by chasing each other around at top speed for hours on end.

Ralph gets this idea. He is a champion at finding a dog who is as dopey as he and will run in circles, chasing him around and around, until they actually fall over from diziness. He runs and drools and falls down and all I have to do is stand there and feel really good that I am providing such a nice opportunity for my dog.

Spider, however, is different. He does not play. He does not run. He does not jump. He does nothing but sniff a butt or two if a butt or two happens to pass by his nose. He does not go out of his way even to sniff a butt. Oh no. When Spider goes to the dog park, he sits. He sits completely still and watches. He watches the other dogs run around. Now, if the other dogs happen to get close to him and appear to be having fun, this is when Spider leaps into action. At this point, he stands and barks wildly at these filthy beasts who dare come near him and disturb his sitting.

So, you can see how this poses a problem for me. I devote over an hour of everyday trying to ensure that my dogs get the exercise they need but simply taking Spider to the dog park does not ensure this. No no. More is required. So, when we get to the dog park, we must go on a lengthy walk so that Spider is forced to exercise. Please note that this requires me to also exercise because if I'm not moving, Spider is not moving.

So, we walk. During these walks, Spider actually emulates a real dog by running up ahead with Ralph and pretending to enjoy himself. They stick their heads in bushes (there are no bushes in Nevada, only sagebrush) and roll in any and all poop they happen to come across. It's nice. I used to think that rolling in poop was pretty much the worst trouble they could get into at the dog park. I was wrong.

One day last week, we were walking along and the dogs were showing a particular interest in some sagebrush along the path. I ignored them and continued to walk along. When they didn't follow, I turned to see what they were doing. Turns out, Ralph had caught a mouse. Well, I told him "RALPHIE, OUT!" and wouldn't you know, he dropped it!

Well, I hadn't thought far enough ahead because as soon as Ralph dropped it, Spider snatched it up. As I outlined earlier, Spider is a different sort of dog. I, of course, at this point shouted "SPIDER, OUT!" which caused Spider to "run" in the opposite direction, with the mouse in his mouth (I put run in quotations because Spider is the only dog I've ever met that I can actually run faster than).

So, Spider "ran" about 12 steps in the opposite direction and then got tired so he turned and began to walk back towards me. I grabbed him by the neck and tried to convince him to drop the mouse by shaking his head. This did not work. I twisted his head to the point where it almost popped off, still he held onto the mouse. (The mouse was quite dead by this point, so don't worry). I grabbed his jaw and tried to pry it open. Spider gave me the look like "you can puncture my teeth through my lips and I'm not dropping this mouse".

I didn't know what to do so we continued on our walk. It was pretty hot out so I figured that if we walked for long enough, Spider would have to drop the mouse in order to open his mouth to pant. Turns out, Spider's will is strong than the need to pant. So we walked, and walked, and walked...

Still the mouse hung out of Spider's mouth, dangling there, swinging back and forth...

At several points during the rest of our walk, I attempted to convince Spider to drop the mouse. I did the head twisting, the shaking, the jaw grabbing. I talked nicely to him. I yelled at him. He didn't give a crap.

I was running out of ideas, it was getting dark and I wanted to go home. My final idea was to bring Spider near the other dogs and maybe one of them could convince him to drop the mouse. Of course, going near the other dogs means going near their owners as well. So up we walk, mouse swinging in the breeze and people looking at me like I'm some kind of freak who allows their dog to not only catch mice but then keep them as a toy.

One lady took pity on me and tried to help me get it away from him. She offers him water. He sits down. The sight of the mouse at this point, is not worth mentioning because it will cause you to throw up on your computer screen as you read this. I know this because myself and this other woman were literally gagging as we tried to get the mouse away from Spider. I was pretty sure that I was going throw up right there at the dog park. That didn't happen though because right then, a dog came up to Spider, sniffed the mouse and Spider, to show that dog who was boss, swallowed the mouse. Yup, he just gulped down the entire mouse. And that ended that.

I think for my next pet I'll get a goldfish.

Stolen from James Lipton and Kristin over at DoubleVision (ps love your blog)

1. What is your favorite word?
Apparently


2. What is your least favorite word?
Specific (because a lot of people can't say it)


3. What turns you on creatively?
Humor


4. What turns you off?
People who cannot handle change


5. What is your favorite curse word?
Shit

6. What sound or noise do you love?
My dogs singing with passing fire engines


7. What sound or noise do you hate?
Any noise that is repeated over and over again


8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
Nurse or midwife


9. What profession would you not like to do?
Factory worker


10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
I understand.

Happy Birthday, Sister/Friend.

Twenty-seven years ago today, my sister Robin was born. She was named by my brother who insisted she either be named Minnie Mouse, Robin (for Batman's sidekick), or she would have to be put back. In a rare moment of flexibility, my mother gave in and they went with Robin. Nicole, her middle name, came from a character from The Young and the Restless. (I would later be named for the actress who played Rhoda on The Mary Tyler Moore Show-my mother apparently LOVED TV while gestating).

Robin came 4 years after my brother, and 2 years before me, making her not only the middle child when I arrived, but also placing her in the thrashing fits of the terrible twos when I arrived. Fortunately for me, she was not yet able to act out *too* much while I was an infant, allowing me some time to develop my own defenses before the subsequent sibling battles began.

I could tell you about the time she threw a rock at my head. Or about how she used the magic of friction to get the tips of ballpoint pens really hot and then touch me with them (she was quite resourceful). Or about how she and my brother held me captive on the screen porch when I was six, *forcing* me to bust through the expensive and newly installed screen to freedom (they got in trouble for that). Or about how I kicked a hole in her door (she got in trouble for that). Or about how my mom really thought we might kill each other one day, what with the screaming, smacking, pushing, kicking, and more screaming that came with our closely blossoming adolescence and the fact that we went to the same high school together all day and THEN had to go home and actually live with each other. But I won't.

Instead, I'd like to tell you what I love about my sister. I love how much we love each other now. I love that we don't have sh*t to sort out; the way we treated each other can just be chalked up to brattiness from both sides and we move on. I love that she has a job that most people are too scared to have. I love that we don't have to talk in order to know what we are thinking. I love that we share a brother. I love how she has stepped into the role as Ross's sister with open arms. I love that my children will have her as an aunt. I love that she chose Matt to be in our family. I love her voice-speaking and singing. I can still pick her voice out in a crowd, whether she be on stage or in a group of people. It's not that she's loud, I think I'm just programmed to know where she is at all times. Her voice is one I've been hearing all of my life and one that I will luckily spend most of my life continuing to hear.

I just love her because we're sisters. She's my only sister, and I'm her only sister. We were born being special to each other. And it's a blessing.

Love you, Sister. I couldn't ask for a better one and I'm so proud of you. Have a wonderful birthday!

I turn my boredom into home improvement.

I start to go crazy around the end of July. As Ross and Stephanie know, a lot of times that craziness turns into taking on very courageous organization tasks or projects. This summer has proved to be no different. A couple weeks ago I redid the bathroom. I scraped wallpaper, patched holes, painted, removed flooring, and laid new tile. I also designed, constructed, and installed a mirror.

Apparently that wasn't enough. Early last Thursday morning (at like 3:00am) I decided to paint the downstairs hallway. I didn't have the paint at the time, but I did have painter's tape. Poor Ross woke up to blue lines on the wall that weren't there when he went to bed. I painted the hallway that day, and I must say, it looks awesome.

Tomorrow I will do some painting in our bedroom. We have some cracks in the plaster on the fireplace due to some old water damage, so I'll be spackling and covering that up with some nice accent color.

Later in the week I think I will take some Killz and cover up the water spots that Tropical Storm Gaston left on our ceiling.

I want Ross and my father-in-law to tile the hallway as my birthday present.

Anyway, yeah, if you haven't seen all of the changes, you should come take a look. It's looking pretty good.

School needs to start. Now.

Super Sunday of Satisfaction and Sloth!!!

Ross and I had a very good day today. After a wicked fight over whether to go to Fredericksburg to see Matt and Maura (I wanted to go, he didn't, even though they said they'd make him a pie), we decided to mend fences by spending some time together. We spent the first part of the day with Ross is the wonderful but elusive mood of "Let's say yes to everything that Valerie wants to do." So, we went to Perly's for lunch. Then we went to Diversity Thrift to look for stuff for Ross's office and to also gawk at some of the things on sale there (pictures to come later, hopefully). Then came the best part. I suggested we go to the SPCA to look at the dogs, AND HE SAID YES! So we went in, pet the baby puppies who were all stilled drugged from being fixed I think, and then went in the back room to look at all of the big puppies. We say two real German Shepherds names Zeus and Aries who were amazing, as well as many other cute dogs.

After that, we came home, Ross watched Star Trek: The Original Series while I took a nap on the couch. Then we ate Oreos and watched TV in bed with our wonderful pooches. It was a very nice day and I would say it made up for the disagreement that started the day. See, husbands, in order to counteract disappointment, all you have to do is give into every *other* whim of your wife, then all is forgotten. And I think I'm pretty low maintenance if all I want to do is eat some food, look at old furniture, and visit puppies.

Southern hospitality at its finest.

I made a quick trip into Kroger this evening to buy the essentials, i.e. Oreos, tortillas, Coke Zero, milk, bread, and ham. Apparently Kroger is *the* place to be on Saturday night. It was crazy busy, but, I guess since it was Saturday night and anyone who goes to Kroger on Saturday probably doesn't have a jammed-packed calendar, everyone was very laid back and moving lazily throughout the aisles. In fact, there were several times when people met at the intersection of aisles and kept insisting on letting other people go in front of them, just like at 4 way stops. Everyone is too busy being polite that no one moves at all.

Once I got to the check out line, I was sure the leisurely feeling would go away, as they only had two lanes open at the time. A gentleman got in line behind me, merely noted (did not complain) about the few checkout lanes, and went on to praise the Lord that the heat had finally calmed down a bit. As our conversation faded, they opened a new line, unbeknownst to me (honestly, I was too busy squinting at the cover of US Weekly a few feet in front of me to notice). The gentleman behind me made his way to the new line, asked the check girl to hold on a minute, then touched me gently on the elbow to let me know another line had opened, saying "Come on, friend." For real, he called me friend. Then, HE LET ME GO IN FRONT OF HIM. I even had like a million more things in my cart than him, and he still let me cut in front.

After thanking him for the tenth time, I headed out to the parking lot where I saw what one could call the icing on the cake. A young Kroger employee was pushing an ungodly number of carts back into the store, but trailing behind him was some random guy helping him load in a few carts that the employee couldn't fit in his row. The guy didn't even work there and was helping him out. It made me really happy.

Moral of the story, go to Kroger, let people cut in front of you, and when you see someone who needs a little help, give it to them. And call them "Friend" when you do it.

Should I be mad?

I encouraged Ross to watch this video of Britney Spears today so he could laugh at how ridiculous she is. While watching it he said, "Valerie (and he's serious when he says my name), you have no right to make fun of this woman. If I posted a video of some of the things you say and do when it's just the two of us, people would think you're an idiot, too." And all this time I thought he felt priveleged to be the only one who got to see my retarded (yeah, I know I shouldn't say that, but I did) side.

Passing out peaches

Today I bought a bag of Ukrop's Peaches. If you are from Richmond, you understand that a Ukrop's peach is the best answer to the sweltering August heat. I bought a total of 4, planning on having one with lunch and then putting the rest out at Potluck tonight. However, as my day progressed, the peaches had to go everywhere with me because my travels kepts me from getting home for a while.

When I picked up Brandon, they came into the Visual Arts Center with me. I was a little early so I took a seat on the couch. A lady came and sat next to me, drenched from the 30 second walk from the parking lot. I offered her a peach and she looked at me as if I had given her the promise for eternal youth. So, she and I chatted and each had a peach.

I offered Brandon one, but he had bought Life Savers from the vending machine. After taking him home, I had to drop something of at my mom's office. The peaches (-2) came into her office with me. I offered her one, and she squealed with delight. Like for real. She and I then made our way out to her car (with the peaches, now -3) to transfer various objects from my car to hers. Meanwhile, a lovely young man named Charlie had stopped by her work to fix a crack in her windshield (who knew people did that, btw?). We chatted with him as he put in the new windshield. Seeing that his T-shirt was soaking wet, obviously from hours of being out in the 100+ degree all day, I offered him the last peach. He would only take it on the condition that I swear, with my hand to the sky, that it was a sweet peach, otherwise he would go around town talking about me. I did as told and passed off the last peach from my batch to this deserving man.

Who knew that a bag a fruit would make my day and 3 other people's? I'll tell you who: Ukrop's. I think they inject a little bit of the heaven into those peaches. I mean, they are rich Baptists-they have connections like that, right? Unfortunately, the Potluck friends, including my husband, won't get to experience the peaches, but I think they'll understand.

Hmmmmm.

Now I'm not one to judge, but I'm a little perplexed about Mel Gibson's recent claims that the anti-Semitic remarks he made while being arrested for driving under the influence were simply just blurted out and not thought about. I mean, I've never been insanely drunk, but I doubt I would just randomnly ask someone if they were a Jew and then blame all of the wars in the world *on* the Jews. I guess when you're plastered out of your mind, thoughts from the deep wrinkles of your brain rise to the surface and come spewing out of your mouth. But, see, I think I would say something more like, "I only listened to 106.5 the Buzz in high school because I wanted to be cool," rather than comments about an entire culture/religion. But that's just me.

Ohhhhhh boys.

This week I am playing chapherone to one of my former (read: awesome) students named Brandon. Ross and I "sponsored" him this summer to take a class at the Visual Arts Center of Richmond. He's taking a cartooning class from 9-12 everyday this week. This involves me leaving my house at 8 to be at his house by 8:30 to be at the Arts Center by 9. I then pick him up at 12, take him home, and get back to my house around 1. It's the price you pay for helping the youth, I guess.

Anyway, as it was 879879.3 degrees, Brandon and I (mostly I) decided that we deserved Slurpees for even venturing out in the heat. I picked the Sunkist flavor. He picked Cherry. I was excited to show him how one fills up a Slurpee cup in order to achieve maximum fillage. He made a huge, sticky mess, but it was cute. Once in the car, he sucked down that Slurpee like none other, then spent the rest of the time giggling hysterically because his head hurt really bad. When I told him that the Slurpee coloring made him look like a vampire, he was even more excited and choked a little bit whilst laughing.

I gotta say, getting to be with one of my students in a much more relaxed situation where he could show pride in looking like the undead made the heat wave more tolerable.

Those were the days.

Maura had cuter hair than me. Ross and I were eating. Matthew was wacky/cute. Matt loved Colonial Williamsburg. Oh, wait. Everything is still the same. It's comforting, really.

Benny and the Jets can never defeat the Sharks.

Ross and I spent a lovely Friday evening getting fat. We ate taquitos, fritos, Doritos, Oreos, and other foods ending with "o". As we gobbled down our O food, we watched our latest NetFlix arrival, West Side Story. I warned Ross that I would be singing for the entire 2 hours and 20 minutes, and he assured me that he remembered the movie and knew the songs, too. How could I have been so stupid?

As we watched the Overture (yes, there is an overture in the movie), he asked me how that song went that the guy and the girl sang to each other.

Ross: Does it go, "When you get stuck between the moon and New York City..."?

Me: No. That's from Arthur. This movie is a little different.

Realizing the "hilarity" of his mistake, he obviously ran with it, insisting that was the song they sang for each other and kept asking as the movie went on when they were going to sing that song.

As we watched the conflict between the Jets and the Sharks unfold, Ross made an emphatic delcaration.

Ross: Benny and the Jets can never defeat the Sharks. The Sharks are Puerto Rican so they are much cooler.

Me: Benny and the Jets was actually an Elton John song and there is no one in the movie named Benny.

More recgonition of his "hilariousness" ensued and he spent most of the rest of the movie making this declaration. That is, until he got bored and said he was done watching the movie. I fooled him and told him he was going to miss the dramatic climax (keep in mind that this was after everyone has been killed and all of the frantic running, singing, and dancing had commenced). As the credits ran after the somber reconcilliation of the two gangs, I felt some satisfaction for making Ross watch the last few minutes during which I'm sure he was thinking, "When is someone gonna freak out and kill everyone?"

I spent some time last night thinking about why watching movies with Ross is what it is. When agreeing to watch a movie with him, you are agreeing to spend the majority of the movie identifying people for him and correcting his misconceptions about what is going on. I tell myself that this happens, not because he is lacking intelligence, but rather he has so much information packed into his brain from reading the Internet all day that things are bound to get mixed up. Yeah.

More announcements.

No more Spanish. I got confused. So, I guess you will all get Alzheimer's afterall.

I've added a site meter to my blog finally. It's sad to look at now. Please tell your friends to come read it.

I submitted a volunteer application to the SPCA so I can be a do-gooder.

Cole slaw is delicious.

Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement to make.

ALL, yes that would be ALL, of my students passed the Reading and Science tests. 100%. Todo. Every single child that I taught Reading and Science to passed. This is after 100% passed the Writing test in March. Needless to say, I am bouncing off the walls and my principal is very happy with me.

Note

I have changed the settings on my blog to Spanish. This will exercise your brain as you try to make comments. You will thank me later as you realize that my decision has delayed the onset of Alzheimer's. Thank yous will accepted in the forms of cash, puppies, and diamonds.

The Ultimate Sacrifice.

I hit a new low today. I have got baby fever to the max. I'm ready. I'm over thinking about myself and just worrying about me. I'm ready to move on in life and be responsible for a child, to take care of someone and raise them in a way that will allow them to make a positive contribution to the world. I look at children as a responsibility given to you by God. It's like He's saying, "Here, this is mine. Please take care of it for me." I'm ready to gladly accept the challenge. But, we're both not there yet, and if you're both not ready, then you're not ready period. It's obviously not the time and I need to deal with it. Easier said than done, but I'm working on it.

Anyway, Ross is being awesome about the whole thing. He's being supportive and loving and understanding. And tonight he took me to Friendly's for dinner. He hates Friendly's. Most people do. I, however, love Friendly's. Not for ice cream, but for a full, sit down dinner. I ordered the same thing I've been ordering there since I learned how to speak. It was glorious. And Ross let me get a soda, too, even though sodas at restaurants cost $1.50. It's these small things that show me how just wants me to be happy, and I love him for it so much.

I got a wonderful email from my friend Stephanie today, helping me out with this whole baby thing. She said:
Hello my dear friend
This morning in the shower, which is where I do my best thinking as you may already know, I was thinking of you and our conversation last night. I think you are right where you need to be. You can do a lot of things without guys as I well know, however you can't make a baby without one. I think there is a pretty good reason for that. I think God has a very special time for your baby when it will have the best dad it can have. Ross isn't going to be the best dad ever until he thinks he can be, whether that be tomorrow afternoon or 5 years from now. Either way you will have a beautiful baby that will be spoiled by me. I think those are all the wise words I have for this morning. Have a lovely Monday. Day is coming up here on Friday night, feel free to jump in the car with her!....once you have a baby you can't do that you know.

Love,
Stephanie

For someone so small, she is very wise. Anyway, she's right. Completely and totally. When the time comes, my wonderful husband will be the best dad ever and our children will be very lucky. I mean, he went to Friendly's, for Pete's sake, and he did that for me. Can you imagine what he would do for his own children? I'm a lucky lady.

Sleeping but not proud of it.

A year and half ago I was diagnosed with chronic anxiety. My condition caused abnormal stress levels, heart palpitations, and insomnia. Since my diagnosis, I have been on two medications: Lexapro (to help boost my seratonin) and Clonazepam (to be taken at night to help shut of my brain and keep me from fixating on things). Since going on these medications I have realized how normal people react to stressful situations, and I've also been blessed with what a real night's sleep feels like. Since getting on these meds, I've been happier, healthier, and much more easy going.

A couple days ago, I ran out of the Clonazepam. Being that it's the summer and I am considerably less stressed out then than during the school year, I thought I'd just see how would do without taking it for a couple days. Maybe my balanced seratonin levels would be enough to allow me to rest. No go. I didn't sleep for three nights. I didn't allow myself to nap on the days in between, thinking that would help. Still no go. The second the lights went out, off my brain went on tangents in every directions while my nervous habits, i.e. rubbing my eyebrows and grinding my teeth, came swooping back to join me. It was maddening.

Not only was I exhausted, I felt weak and disappointed in myself. I hated how I needed a pill to help me go to sleep. I don't know why I care. My doctor prescribed these for me and told me that when patients have anxiety to the point where they need medication, that's usually because the coping strategies that other people use aren't enough for those patients. I got the pills filled and got a good night's sleep last night. Still, I hate that I might have to be on them forever. Why can't I just calm myself down, shut up, and relax?

Any thoughts?

And Bob's your uncle.

I spent my Saturday helping Ross and Ryan prime and paint the PharrOut office over on Main Street. First we primed the walls and then began applying their selected wall color. Let's just say it's orange. I think it'll look awesome once it's finished, but Ross and Ryan are being girls about it and keep himming and hawing. They can't do anything about it, though. It's up there and I'm sure as hell not priming anything again. Hopefully they'll get it done in time for Scott's triumphant return from Babytown (yes, the baby was born on Wednesday, it is a girl, she is big, she is super cute, etc. etc.) and the world will be as it should be once again. Let's just say, ever since Christi went into labor, I have had a very nervous husband and we are all counting the days until the end of Scott's paternity leave. Anyway, the second coat goes on tomorrow. Not sure if I'll be there for that part. I mean, I donated like 7 hours of my precious napping/tv watching time to help. I got to make up for lost time tomorrow.

He didn't understand the words that were coming out of my mouth.

Tonight Ross and I had dinner at the Olive Garden, which was lovely. Many of you know that we are on our supertight budget, but thanks to a gift card from los padres de Remus, we got to treat ourselves to some fine, I-talian cuisine. After gorging ourselves on breadsticks, salad, and other fabulous carbohydrates (and having our first real conversation in many months-meaning we didn't talk about Star Trek or bikes), we passed our card along to the waitress. The card covered all of our meal, but only about half of our tip. The meal itself cost $22.52. That left us with a $2.48 balance on the card. You're with me, right? Being the sister of a server, I couldn't leave that measly little tip-we wanted to go with closer to $5.00. Still with me? So, I proceed to fill in the charge slip and tip the waitress the remaining $2.48, planning on leaving an additional $2.00 in cash for the lovely young lady who kept feeding our fat faces all night. I hope you're still with me, because that was where Ross's mind was completely blown. He looked at what I was doing, shook his head and said "No..." (and those of you who know Ross know exactly what that "no" sounded like), grabbed the slip, scratched out what I wrote, and filled in $4.48 on the tip line of the charge slip. The charge slip that showed we only had $2.48 left on the card. Meaning we would have, in fact, owed the server $2.00. $2.00 that I was planning on leaving on the table. $2.00 that Ross insisted we didn't have to leave on the table because we had written on the slip that we were giving it to our server.

After much yelling/whispering at ultrasonic levels and gesticulating to get my point across, my blood boiling with each smug wag of Ross's head, the muscles in his face relaxed, his eyes opened wide as if he had just been revealed the secret to eternal youth, and he said "Ohhhhhhhhh." Flabbergasted, I snatched back the slip, filled in the *correct* amount, tossed the cash on the table, and stalked out of the restaurant. Don't worry. I took Ross with me.

Moral of the story: If you ever get a check from Ross made out for $1,868,769,980,342.78 I wouldn't cash it because he probably doesn't have it, but seems to think it's ok. I like to think that he's really just saying, "If I *had* this, I'd give it to you, man."


Note: I love Ross more than anything. Not in spite of this episode, but because of it.

Praising the Lord for what Ross and I have.

Our family is crazy-wonderful.

We have no debt.

We both have jobs that we love.

We love the city we live in.

Our friends are beautiful, hilarious, good-hearted people.

We love each other more than anything. And we like each other a crazy amount, too.

We've been given far more than we deserve and we know it.

Longing for fall...

As the days drag on through this mid-summer's heat wave, I find myself counting the days until I get to walk outside in long sleeves and real shoes, get in my car, and do something with the day. I spend most of my year in anticipation of summer. For me, summer means the end of the school year, time to clean the slate and wait for the next batch of kiddies to arrive. Honestly though, I get over summer really quickly. It's not in my nature to just sit and not have anything to do. I'm thrilled with any task I'm given and become pitifully reliant on the television and my dogs for entertainment. For me, summer means being trapped in my own head, my brain clicking away with what I want to accomplish but can't yet because it's not time. For me, idle hands mean an overactive, hypersensitive mind that spends its time making up things to worry about.

The fall means back to work, time to use my brain, to occupy myself, to become exhausted and worn out, to not give my brain time to click-click-click away at night because it's too tired to do anything but shut down and let me rest. Yes, I think I'm ready for that again.

Someone please adopt this dog or I might have to.

His name is Jeremy and he's at the Richmond SPCA. I met him yesterday when my mom was looking for a new dog. He's very mellow and is more interested in cuddling than getting into trouble. And when you brush his hair forward he looks like a lion.

More Dog Stuff, cause that's how I am

So I had to take Zapp into the vet again last week to get her ears checked again. Good news-her ears were clear of infection and it only cost $28 to meet with the vet this time. Anyway, while I was there I asked the vet about the "grapes being toxic to dogs" controversy. He said, in fact, that yes it has been found that grapes can cause liver and other organ damage in dogs, but it's a finding that's popped up only in the last 8-12 months. He said a grape every now and then is fine, but don't let the dogs have access to a whole bunch because they'll think they're for them, eat them, and possibly die. So FYI.

Apparently Shooter loves flowers off all types, real or faux. A couple posts ago I mentioned that I sewed felt flowers on a tank top I have. Shooter first encountered this the other day and he kept smelling the flowers on my chest. The shirt is now draped across the arm of the rocking chair and he keeps coming up to it, gently pressing his nose to it to see if it smells. He exactly like Ferdinand the Bull, a character from a story that makes Ross feel emotion and he therefore cannot read.

Frustrated

So I've been working out almost everyday for 2 weeks, drinking more water, and eating better. But I've gained 4 pounds. W.T.F.

New Developments

My body has become addicted to water as of late. I decided about 1 1/2 weeks ago that I was going to drink a ton of water everyday for 3 weeks until it became a habit (this worked for reading the Bible-Ross and I have been reaidng the Bible every night for almost 2 years because of someone telling us that theory). Well, now if it gets to be noon and I haven't had approx. 2 liters of water, my body basically shuts down. My stomach hurts, my head hurts, and I become very crabby. I guess water is a good thing to be addicted to, though.

In other news, I now sweat an obscene amount when I exercise. We're talking rolling off on me in buckets sweating. Like Gatorade-commercial sweat, except it's not colored. I've been exercising a lot lately, too. This comes more from boredom and poverty, rather than the desire to be healthy. Exercising is the only thing that I can afford to do that keeps me busy. I'm guessing maybe the ridiculous amount of sweat I produce relates to the ridiculous amount of water I consume. But, while it's disgusting, I'm kept very cool during my workouts. The human body. It's an amazing thing.

My mother is either obsessed with me getting pregnant or terrified of me getting pregnant. Everytime I mention that I'm tired or not feeling well (usually a result of the water withdrawal), she immediately asks, "Are you pregnant?" I wonder if she does this with everyone or just me. I think it'd be pretty funny if she did it with everyone, though.

I crafted it up on Wednesday whilst watching Project Runway with some lady friends. I had seen some tank tops in Need with little felt flowers and such sewn on them. These tank tops cost about $40. I realized earlier this week that I a) had felt and b) had a tank top. I put them together and magic happened. Very cute magic if I do say so myself. I wore it yesterday, and I must say it was a hit. Well, it was a hit with Ross since he was the only person I saw yesterday, but it's a start. I mean, he's hip.

I have the best brother in the world. I knew this already, but he sealed the deal today. I went to Diversity Thrift and bought a credenza-something-or-other for the dining room. Upon realizing that it wouldn't fit in my car, I called my brother and offered him lunch to come pick it up and help me load it into my house. Boy howdy, he earned that lunch. My arms are apparently useless, so I wasn't much help to him. Fortunately Peggy, a lady who lives down the street and keeps all of her furniture on her front porch to make room for her plants inside, came to help. She helped Bryan load the monstrosity into the house, telling him that as he lifted it to pretend that he had to pee in his pants and had to hold it in. Apparently this helped and made the lifting easier. The more you know, kids. The more you know.

That's all for now. Oh, btw, the monstrosity originally cost $75, but I got it for $40. I attribute it to my smile and charm, not that it had been sitting in the store for 2 months.

Life view

1. Break a sweat at least once a day.
2. There is never a reason to be rude, especially to people you don't know.
3. Blondes should never leave the house without mascara. Brunettes should never leave the house without blush.
4. Boys (and men) just want you to be proud of them. Be sure to tell them that you are.
5. Park far away so you have to walk.
6. Smart boys will end up with the girls who are goofy. Pretty only gets you so far.
7. If someone constantly refers to things that make them sound smart, they probably aren't that smart.
8. Getting a dog is always a good idea.
9. Along the same lines, dogs should always be allowed on the bed with you.
10. Siblings and cousins are some of the best thing on God's green earth.

Most Popular

Ross and I were talking the other night and we decided that when it really comes down to it, Shooter is the most popular living thing in our house. Zapp is in love with him and Ross and I are constantly pleading with him to cuddle us and play. He's got us all in the palm of his hand. Paw. Oh you know.

What I did today:

*Got up at 8:15
*Went to church (via bicycle)
*Vaccuumed the entire house
*Did a load of laundry
*Weeded and spiffed up the front flower bed
*Pulled vines in the backyard
*Bug-bombed the shed
*Sprayed the "red-shouldered" bugs who love our backyard and are slowing making their way to the house-many souls were lost
*Called Mexico (the restaurant, not the country) to arrange catering for my sister's shower
*Called my mother to tell her how grown up I was by calling Mexico (still the restaurant, not the country)
*MOWED THE FRONT LAWN WHILE *SOMEONE* JUST WATCHED AND LAUGHED AT ME

I'm amazing.

Can I just say...

that I love Will Ferrell?

My heart explodes with love.

When we give Zapp her ear medicine, we feed her grapes so she will stay still. She love love loves grapes and she will pretty much suffer through anything to get this tasty treat. However, apparently she now associates grapes with having stuff put in her ears. Consequently, whenever she sees a grape, she shakes her head furiously before gladly accepting her snack.

I picked some flowers from one of our bushes out front and put them in a bud vase in our hallway. Shooter likes to gently smell them each time he passes. He too loves grapes. Whenever the fridge is opened, he puts his face as close to them as possible without actually touching them, as not to overstep his boundaries.

Babytown, USA

I got to babysit for Remus, the insanely adorable 4 month-old belonging to Mark and Jen, this evening. I spent my night feeding, changing, bathing, and soothing the somewhat fussy child, and I loved loved loved every single second of it. For some reason I am not at all bothered by the mess or the crying that comes with being around babies. I think it's because I like that I know how to fix it and I know how to make everything ok for them again. Plus, if I do say so myself (and I do), I'm pretty darn good at making them laugh A LOT. So, I go to sleep tonight feeling good about myself and grateful that I have a new little friend. I mean, he better consider me his friend. After all, he chewed on my hand for two hours, spit up on me, and I still wanna hang out with him.

P.S. If you or anyone you know needs a babysitter, let me know. I am not crazy and I have references. And I need money because I am Ross's sugar-mama.

Fatt

So I was all set to work out, and then I realized that it was almost 10pm. I decided that instead it would be more appropriate to each some crackers and watch T.V., cause, I mean, you don't have to take a shower after doing that.

I'm one of those people I hate.

I hate it when people don't update their blogs. Then I realized today that I haven't written for almost 2 weeks. I'm sure you're all gnashing your teeth in anticipation of what I have to say.

The Dominican was great (pictures to come later). We slept, ate, and drank our little hearts content. The trip back sucked due to torrential downpours and being held by customs for a little bit. The hilight of the trip back was definitely hearing a woman say to her daughter, "I don't know, Jane! I've never been to the Wendy's in Punta Cana." You probably had to be there.

I spent Sunday at my aunt's house for our annual family picnic. We also got to use the time to celebrate my cousin Sidney's 1st birthday. There was much looking at the baby and trying to get her to walk. She's very very close and VERY cute.

Monday involved going to the dentist and then piling both dogs into the car for a trip to the vet. $500 later they were vaccinated, poked, prodded, flea and heartworm protected, and released. Zapp has an ear infection, the diagnosis of which made of the bulk of the bill. She now gets ear drops twice a day, along with ear cleanings. Let's just say, she does not like this and will probably never let me near her again.

I spent Tuesday helping my sister with wedding stuff and getting my haircut. It was a good day, made even better by getting a free lunch.

Today is my first day back that I haven't done much. I had to go to the doctor this morning to get a mole removed (sexy, I know). He was really good because he actually told me that certain parts of the procedure would hurt, adding though that since I'm a girl I should be able to take it. He was right, I was tough and now sans mole. I quickly came home to watch reruns of Magnum P.I. and fall asleep for 3 hours. I still haven't showered and I love it.

That's all for now. I cannot guarantee that my updates over the next few months will even resemble anything interesting, because school's out and I have to children to exploit for the sake of humor.

SCHOOL'S OUT FOR SUMMER!

School will actually be out tomorrow at 1:30, but I will be too busy packing/getting ready to go to the Dominican. We will be back late on Saturday the 24th. Until then, I will leave you with this:

"I would rather be a prostitute on Broad Street than drive a schoolbus on the last day of school."

-My Mentor

Well now

This lady, my friends, told me that I was "looking SO good" today. She's the mother of one of my kids. She's even more stunning in person, and she knows her stuff. That gave me quite the confidence boost today.

BTW

I'm cute. Watch out.

We in then out again.

We're back from Asheville. I will tell you nothing about it until we get our pictures developed and scanned. Yeah, that's right. We had to use a camera with film. Shut up.

Today marked the last week of school. The long weekend away from the babies did me good. We had our first graduation practice and they did an awesome job. I think they did so well because I drew a bird's eye view of the set up, complete with x's and arrows. Brandon commented that if someone were to walk in on us, it would look like we were plotting to rob a bank or something. That made me want to take him home with me and keep him as my own.

I came home and Ross made me a double-decker PB and J. Then I fell asleep. I gave Shooter-Bell a bath. He was really dirty. Then I put some techno, or as some call it "electronic" music on my shuffle and exercised for a super long time. Now I am sweaty. I have had 3 liters of water to drink in the last two hours and I have yet to pee. Hmmm.

Tomorrow we have a pizza party and some more graduation practice. I know they will do awesome, both at eating the pizza and the practicing. Tomorrow is our last full day of school. Friday is our last day and then Ross and I are off to the Dominican via Alexandria and a stay at Stephanie's house. I'm so excited for all of these events. Especially the pizza.

We out.

Tomorrow Ross and I head off for Asheville to celebrate our anniversary in style. And by in style I mean getting fat and sleeping a lot. I can't wait. I'm especially excited because I get a break from my water-balloon-throwing, cussing, flicking-off, spacing out, drama-stirring children. Hopefully this break will get me through the last week of school.

This pretty much says it all...

Thanks to Maura's flickr for the pic.

Three years later...

Three years ago today I was making the final preparations for my wedding. For me, the day before the wedding sticks out more in my mind than the actual day. My wedding day was kind of a blur, a wonderful one, but a blur nonetheless. But, I vividly remember the day before it. I woke up after my bachelorette party (thankfully not hungover, due to my lovely sister's expertise) and spent the day taking deep breaths, trying to hold my anxiousness to a level at which I could still function. I remember the butterflies in my stomach, the nervous fidgeting, the random bubbling of emotions, and the pure excitement I felt as I looked at Ross and realized that we would be getting married the next day. I remembered when he dropped me off at my parent's house after the rehearsal dinner. It was strange-how do you say goodnight to the person who will suddenly become your husband the next day, to the person who you would be starting a life with the next day. All we did was hug and say "I love you" and "See you tomorrow." When I think about that day, all of those feelings come back. My stomach is even feeling a little fluttery now as I write this. I think speaks pretty well for us...


Happy Almost Three Years Married, Hubs. I love you.

Love you,
Your Wife

10 things I love. Then 10 things I'm fascinated by. Then 10 people who have to do this, too.

Things I love:
1. My staple gun
2. My rubber gloves
3. Tic-Tacs
4. Tweezers
5. Rubber spatulas (yet I have none)
6. French fries
7. Voice mail
8. Bic pens (just the kind with the pointy, blue cap)
9. Black socks
10. Buttons

Things I'm fascinated by:
1. Mormons
2. How cranberries are harvested
3. Sororities
4. Nuns
5. Amish people
6. Pollination
7. How babies fit in women's bellies (how does everything fit?)
8. Other people's kitchens
9. The phenomenon of all celebrities now having babies before getting married
10. The return of the skinny jean

People who have to do this now:
1. Ross
2. Maura
3. Robin
4. Matt the Sister's Fiance
5. Chris
6. Andi
7. Justin
8. Kate
9. Matthew
10. Bryan

WAHOO!!!!

98% passing rate on the writing test!!! Only one didn't pass and we're appealing it becuse he is soo close!!!

I'm being fried up crisp from the inside.

Never have I been more happy to go to work than today. Because here, at work, the air conditioner is working and running. At home, I wouldn't know if it's working because *someone* (Ross) doesn't want it turned on because *someone* (still Ross) seems to think that he shows more moral worth by either freezing in the summer or cooking in the winter. I imagine that it's not good to scream out, "Oh sweet Lord!" everytime you walk upstairs. I'm convince that I am going to spontaneously combust at any moment I'm there. Meanwhile, the dogs are looking at me with pleading eyes, begging me to shave them. Or kill them, I'm not sure.

Shooter Bell

Shooter had two more seizures last night. One was five minutes long and the other was like five seconds long. The vet said he would probably still have them occassionally, but I still hate it. Especially how he sleeps for about 11 hours after he has one and I want to check him every 5 minutes to see if he's still alive. I check him by poking him. He then grumbles at me and goes back to sleep. He probably doesn't like it when I do that.

Wrapping things up

Today we made our annual trip to the middle school my kids will be attending next year. They get to walk around the building, try opening lockers, and watch lame-o skits that I love because my former students are in them. Seeing them walk into the building with bubbling excitement and wide-eyed fear really brings home the fact that school is almost over. This year has gone by so fast, and while, I'm ready to say goodbye, part of me is worried that I haven't prepared them enough for the demands of being a 6th grader. As we got back to school, one of the kids asked me if we were still having recess (typically their only concern if there is a change in our schedule). To him I replied, "Yes, and it's one of your last ones ever, so make sure you enjoy it."

DATE!

The hubs and I decided we needed to have some "quality" date time-you know, where you actually go somewhere and do something out of the ordinary. So, we packed ourselves some triple-decker peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, applesauce, Doritos, and Diet Pepsi, and biked our way here:

That's right, friends. The hubs and I had our picnic at the most Richmondy of Richmond places: The Robert E. Lee monument. After scarfing down our dinner, we snuggled:

We gazed:

We had a really big chin, but beautiful high/lowlights and freckles:

And, took pictures of the horse's naughty bits:

I mean, what more could a girl ask for?

Whew.

I reached a breaking point yesterday morning. I completely wanted to pack up my things and go away for a couple days, just so I wouldn't have to be around anything that needed managing or for me to take care of it. This is by no means a reflection on my marriage or job or life, it's just how I feel sometimes. When I take the Meyers-Briggs test, I'm as far in the introvert column as you can be. Most people think that means your shy or hate talking in front of people. I'm neither of those things (I mean, I talk for a living). But rather, I need to have time alone or else I'll go insane. Like for real, wanna throw my cell phone in the river and change my name insane. When I get like this, I'm completely consumed with worldly, unimportant, and selfish things that, in the end, mean very little.

Last night I finally got that much needed privacy. My wonderful husband suggested that I go spend some time at his parent's decorate but vacant house for a few hours. So, I got myself some Chick-Fil-A and a People magazine, and headed over. It. was. amazing. I was only there for about 2 hours, but it was great to be able to just sit with myself, not having to talk to anybody or take care of anything. All I had to do was enjoy the time and refocus.

On my way home, I realized that what I really need to work on is being in the moment and be grateful for the blessings that I have and recognize at that time. So, when I got into bed that night, I didn't allow myself to think about everything I didn't do that day, or what was coming with the next. Instead I focused on the fact that I was a loved, healthy, clean, fed young lady lying in her comfortable bed with her loving dog, while the love of her life was in the next room working on a project for the business that he is determined will completely support us in the next few years, enabling me to stay home when we have kids.

Right now, all I'm thinking about is how hard my students are working as they take their science SOL. I see them reading things carefully, checking and double-checking, taking deep breaths, and doing their best. I don't care what their scores are. They're making me proud at this very moment.

The Squid and the Whale and Me

Ross and I finally watched The Squid and the Whale last night. To give you a brief summary, it follows a family at the very beginning of the parents getting a divorce. Jeff Daniels stars as the pretentious and somewhat pathetic father who likes to tell people to stop being "difficult." Laura Linney plays his ex-wife who, I imagine after years of being put down and driven slowly mad, asks for a divorce. There was nothing similar in the specifics of this family's experience with divorce to that of my family's, but I thought the movie did a great job bringing out the overall feelings of awkwardness, loyalty, rebellion, and forced independence that comes along with the dissolution of a marriage that involves kids.

My parents divorced when I was 12. It's a strange epxerience, to put it mildly, but I understand my feeling about it much better now, taking a look from 12 years away. I just realized that my parents have been divorced for half of my life. Anyway, one of the reason's I think it was so hard for me was that I needed to mourn the loss of this family, or my parents' relationship, while they were still around. But it's kind of hard to say to my completely unglued mother that I wish she and my father would get back together-I knew it would just send her into another emotional spiral. Meanwhile, I found it hard to burst my dad's very dense bubble of excitement for his new life that rendered him deaf and blind to all things emotionally complicated and uncomfortable.

I kept being told that we were still a family. We weren't. I knew that it was ok that weren't still a family, I just wish someone would have been honest with me about it. I was also confused by the fact that we kept being told that it had nothing to do with us, while the arrangements following their separation had *everything* to do with us.

I found it difficult to be around both of my parents for many years following their split. I would rather die than be told that I was anything like one of them, but would react with fierce loyalty and defensiveness if one of them ever said anything bad about the other. While I was still connected to them in superficial ways (they knew what was going on at school, heard about boyfriends, etc.), I knew that things would never be the same and I was pretty much on my own. My parents both remarried around 3 years after they split. I don't know why, but that kind of sealed the deal for me-they were starting their new lives and it was time for me to start mine. I would always love them, but I was done looking to them for advice or guidance. I was 15.

I've never asked my parents what I was like throughout the divorce. It's funny that that last sentence implies that the process is over. I don't think you ever stop going through a divorce when you have children-in our case it seems like things are just as uncomfortable as ever, despite the fact that over a decade has gone by. I feel like my siblings and I are faced with more responsiblity than most when it comes to our parents. We have to "handle" them a lot more, I guess, making sure that everyone gets equal time with us, particularly at holidays. Luckily, we've all acquired amazing significant others who have either been through the experience, or are just wonderfully understanding and supportive (See Hubs, Bonus Sister, and Bonus Brother). Anyway, I hope I wasn't a total sh*t to them while working through this, even though sometimes they were sh*ts to me.

I don't really know the point of this entry, other than I finally found an inspiration for articulating how I felt about everything. Thanks, Jeff Daniels.

Update

I relieved the stress by vaccuuming underneath my couches. And then got sad that it was so dirty under there.

I've gone insane.

Last night I had to stop reading the book "Fallen Leaves" that Maura loaned to me a gazillion years ago. I had made it about 50 pages in, but slammed it shut in an almost tearful fit last night because I couldn't handle it anymore. It's a memoir about a young Chinese girl who stepmother treats her like crap. She was so mean. I couldn't take it. Meanwhile, I am perfectly capable of reading a story in which people *own* one another. Go figure.

The children that I was just gushing over last night while checking their quizzes, are at the moment the object of the most white-hot hatred I have ever experienced. I'm trying to think of what I can do when I get home to burn off these feelings. I definitely don't want to be Ms. Crabby-Britches tomorrow.

I removed all of a child's items from his desk today and told him that they would be rationed to him throughout the day. I also confiscated a dictionary that he would not stop reading. I took it because I was mad that he wasn't listening to me. I told him he could see it in June.

*I* was the one who burped loudly and couldn't stop laughing while we were taking a test.

Summer needs to get here. Now.

Perfect.

It's amazing how in times of sadness, God directs us to words that give us comfort. Little Louie, who passed away last Thursday, was remembered at a memorial service last night. Those in attendance were given a card with this verse on it:

I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord.
(1 Samuel 1:27, 28)

http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/littlelouie

Various joys

Ross and I got our refund from the good ol' national government, and it looks like we'll be able to use it to fund our anniversary trip at the beginning of June. We are going here in Asheville and I'm super excited. I was a little nervous, what with the cost of the room, food, and gas, but it looks like things won't be too tight. I'm really looking forward to having my hubs all to myself, too.

We have our first SOL test on Thursday. We are taking Science first, which is good, because it's usually saved for last when the kids' brains are sufficiently fried. Then they have the long weekend, and finish up on Thursday and Friday of next week. My kids asked me if they could just take it today because they feel ready. I guess that's a good sign. I'm feeling ok about the Science test right now because I have basically taught all of the material twice this year. The rest is up to them. They are lazy most of the time but seem to know when it's time to step up.

Ross is making delicious hamburgers tonight and I'm very excited. And we get to watch The Squid and the Whale which I've been wanting to see.

Countdowns:
Science test - 2 days
Reading test - 9 days
Anniversary trip - 18 days
School's out - 25 days
Dominican Republic - 26 days

This weekend

Friday: Ross and I got Wendy's for dinner. We both sooned realized that our recent separation from fast food due to our teensy budget has rendered our systems intolerant of it. I guess that's a good thing. We then went to Barnes and Noble where Ross used part of a gift card to buy me a book. What a guy =)

Saturday: I met up with Ross at Gallery 5 to take part in his RVA Bloggers meet up. It was pretty cool, but he seemed disappointed because he didn't think enough people showed up. I also got bitten buy the owner's pet squirrel, peanut, while I was there. I then met up with Stephanie and Kate to have a 3:30 lunch at 3 Monkeys. The waitress hated me because I ordered a roast beef and turkey sandwich without the roast beef. The three of us then went out to Short Pump where I succeeded in buing nothing. We then returned to the city to get ready to go out for Steph's birthday. I started getting ready at 8:30, a time when I'm normally getting ready for bed. We finally made out to bar by 11:00, where we proceeded to dance in an exceptionally crowded (I'm sure to the point where it was illegal) room where I got burned by the cigarette being held by the young gentleman who attempted to dry hump Kate, whose face he hadn't even seen yet, mind you. Oh, the single scene. Let's just say, I'm glad I was only visiting it.

Sunday: I got home from Steph's bday festivities at 1:30 and waited up for Ross to get back from having his love affair with Matt White. Since I hadn't been up that late since about sophmore year of college, my system was shocked and needed me to sleep until 12:30. Which I did. I dragged my unshowered self to the store. Once home, I was carrying bags to the porch as a wasp flew up my right pant leg and proceeded to sting me. I dropped my bags on the sidewalk, and starting banging on the door for Ross to let me in. If he had taken three seconds longer, I would have stripped off my pants right there on the porch. But, hey, I found out that I am not allergic to wasp stings, something my mother was always afraid that I was for some reason. So I need to call her and tell her that. The lesson I learned is that getting stung sucks, especially when it's happening inside of your pants.

Almost Monday morning: I am now typing this because my excessive sleeping has left me unable to drift off. The Science SOL test is Thursday, so of course all I'm thinking about is that. And thinking about how I'm not asleep and I should be. I'm sure articulating my fears and reading about them over and over will help, too. Crap. Good night.

I don't understand.

Today a co-worker of mine lost his 16 month old baby boy to brain cancer. I had only met this little boy a couple of times, but I am more shaken up than I ever thought I would be. He was only diagnosed 4 weeks ago, and today he is gone. In 4 weeks he went from running around and laughing, to lying in a hospital bed, taking his last breaths in his parents' arms.

I'm proud of myself. This week...

I haven't taken a single nap.
I have read myself to sleep every night, rather than passing out in front of the T.V.
I have only had one soda (diet) a day.
I shared how a book can make you feel emotions. (We finished Where the Red Fern Grows today. There were tears and sniffles abound.)
I have left work on time each day.
I have gotten to work on time each day.
I have finally connected with my male co-worker (over our mutual love for fish sticks, and our respective spouses' disdain for said delicacy).

Two days to go still. However, all I have awaiting me are practice tests, review games, a movie, and dancing with Stephanie. I think I'll be ok.

Feeling what the other half feels.

As the year comes to a close, my job starts to become a lot like everyone else's. I sit behind a desk, checking my email more times than necessary, waiting for other people to finish what they're doing so I can move on the the next thing. We are in supreme-o review mode right now and in fifth grade, that means a lot of simulation tests, a lot of review quizzes, etc. I would love to do games but, unfortunately, games don't exactly hold the kids accountable for anything. So written work it is. So sad really. Anyway, I've been watching the clock for it to be resource time so I can atleast get up and go talk to my co-workers. I'm ready for summer. Like for real.

P.S. I found a tick on my bottom last night. ON MY BOTTOM!

If my kids knew what "Schizophrenic" was, they would think that I'm that.

Seriously. I can go from Glenda the Good Witch, to the Wicked Witch of the West, and back again in about 2 seconds flat. I had some cheater cheater pumpkin eaters today and after I ripped them each a new one, I was back to my typical, smiling, silly self with the other good children immediately. I find it to be quite an amazing quality, as long as I'm not frightening the children.

Tearful reunion...well on my part. He just laughed at me.

Today the School Resource Officer from our feeder middle school came by to talk to the kids. He basically comes to talk about school rules and policies, and to show him that he does, in fact, have a gun, stick, pepper spray, and handcuffs that he is allowed to use if provoked. He shhhpeeel is pretty standard, but he brought along a surprise with him. The middle school decided it would be good if they sent a 6th grader with him to give the kids an insider's view of the transition from elementary to middle school. And who did he bring with him? None other than my most favorite child yet: J.R. I had the privilege of teaching J.R. last year. He's one of those kids who is a perfect mix: very responsible, smart, and kind, but just enough twinkle in his eye to remind you that he is a boy. J.R. was a a major bright spot in my life last year (and for all of his teachers), but I hadn't seen him since his last day of 5th grade.

When I walked my kids into the auditorium to hear the officer speak, I saw J.R. standing up in the front, and I just started crying. It was the perfect combination of surprise, happiness, and most of all, pride. He looked like such a little man standing up there, and he did a perfect job talking to the kids. It totally made my day and reminded me of why I do what I do in the first place.

=/

I have to give a presentation at the staff meeting tomorrow and I'm nervous.

What an awesome day.

I woke up at 10:30 this morning to be greeted by my mother-in-law plugging away in our little front yard. Ever since the hole fiasco, she has been adamant that we get that little patch of land cleaned up. Well, thanks to Nic, the whole got filled in a few weeks ago and a few plants were added. However, my MIL decided to take things further and create a bonafide flower bed out there. She dug, she pulled, she tilled, she trimmed, she planted, and she got more work done in 3 hours than I would have in 3 months.

After the majority of the sweat-labor was done, we all went to lunch at Ginger, which is insanely awesome. The whole time at lunch, the MIL kept saying, "We're going to finish this today. We're not going to let it sit." She knows us too well. See, Ross and I aren't bothered by much, so the crappy front yard really didn't get to us. However, we were not going to fight her-she was adamant that we finish the job today. And Ross and I will do what you tell us to, we're just not ones to take initiative unless absolutely necessary. So anyway, after treating us to some mulch and another hose, the in-laws went back with us to the house and got down to business. In no time we had a beautiful (and mulched) flower bed, mowed grass, and a clean porch. I can't even believe it and neither will you if you come by to see it.

To reward ourselves for Ross's parents' hard work, the hubs and I then sat down to watch Deliverance and Narnia. Quite a mix, but both really good. Now I'm upstairs cuddling with pup #1, while Ross is watching TNG downstairs. All in all, we're quite content at the moment and grateful for such a good day.

Little kids are awesome.

My mentor teacher, Janie, takes care of this little girl a couple times a week. Her name is Abby and she's three. Abby's mom has been dropping her off at my school every Tuesday and Thursday for the past 2 1/2 years. I watched her change from a little baby to a walking, talking person. Abby loves to say hello to Gary the Gerbil, make fingerprints, eat Laffy Taffy, and figure out which chairs are just the right size for her. I always stay a little late on these days just to chat with Janie and be a witness to Abby's cuteness. Even though I've been around Abby for a while, she's not one of these children who just run up and hug anyone-she's selective. Well, today, Abby and I had a breakthrough. Not only did she ask me to pick her up, she gave me a hug when we said goodbye. I felt like I had won a gold medal or something. It was a great ending to what had been a much better day than yesterday and the day before. Thank God for the little ones.

Brownies and peas go flying.

I spent 40 minutes of instructional time today trying to sort out the mystery of the food fight from Hades today. The results of my inquiries further supported the undeniable fact that all children lie.

And the winner is...

Weird but AWESOME.

I decided to google images of "Valerie" tonight. Aside from the expected slutted-up pictures (apparently all other Valeries are quite whore-ish, at least those found on the internet) I found this lovely tidbit:



Apparently, you can mail order a VALERIE ANDROID from some dude named Chris in Texas. Click here for details. Notice her stylish suit and hairstyle.

I'm so proud.

Zapp's bark is INSANELY loud and howly. It gets really high pitched at the end and she kind of scares herself. It makes me laugh.

Strike Over.

See here.

NOW.

I am demanding a public declaration of love for me from my husband to be posted on the Internet. I'm going on strike (i.e. not blogging) until my demands are met.

Things I can't handle...

1. People who put those elastic bands with bows on them around their infant daughter's head.
2. Dust.
3. When children don't put their names on their papers.
4. Dogs dressed up like humans.
5. Cilantro.
6. People who put pens that do not work *back* in the cup sitting next to the phone.
7. When people say "aks" instead of "ask."
8. Not being in the Dominican Republic right now.
9. The streetlight outside my window that blinds me all through the night.
10. When little kids are sick.

Lemme just say...

There's nothing like sitting in a room with the window open, reading the Internet, and listening to the Jackson 5. I'd feel guilty asking for anything more.

Taco Bell Sh*t Lady

After equally exhausting days, Ross and I decided that we deserved to splurge and get ourselves some Taco Bell. This is always exciting because, as we are poor, even the cheapest of dinners out feels like extreme decadence. As we were waiting for our food at the drive through window, the repeatedly heard the lady working there saying sh*t, I think because the person who ordered after us wasn't specifying if he wanted regular lemonade or pink lemonade. I'm sure she was having a rough day, and I imagine that working at Taco Bell bites the big one, but is cussing in your place of work (that also happens to be a place where people bring their children) really necessary? I understand cussing under your breath or in the privacy of your own home, but she didn't even try to disguise it. It was just sh*t, sh*t, sh*t all over the place. It took all I had to not park the car and go in to speak to the manager. If I were her boss and I heard her saying that, I would fire her on the spot. But that's just me, and I'm kinda crazy insane.

Sorry about the annoying *'s but I need to do that incase one of my kids walks up on me at work. While I'm reading my own blog. Yeah, that's right. I read my own. A lot.

Some more things.

I've started riding my bike more. I'm starting to understand why Ross loves it so much. When I'm riding it, I kinda feel like I'm better than the suckers who are stuck inside their cars on pretty days. Too bad I'm so out of shape that I can't ride it very far.

Don't buy a bathing suit during PMS. It just makes you feel bad about yourself.

One of my favorite teachers in the school has decided to move up to 5th grade. I'm psyched to the max.

I'm trying to read more. I'm currently reading The Known World by Edward P. Jones. My mother-in-law gave it to me months ago. I figured it was about time to start it.

My sister is now on imdb.com. Check it out.

Ross thinks I'm working out right now.

I wish Matt and Maura lived here NOW.

I only have 2 more months of school. I feel more prepared for the SOLs than I ever have. Rather than enjoying it, I'm stressing out that I'm not stressed, and fear that my confidence will cause them to fail. That's messed up.

I currently have a blemish. I haven't had a blemish in 3 months. I'm scared that my skin has adapted to my cleanser.

Diana Ross's "Love Child" is a great song.

I realized yesterday while doing laundry that Ross and I were in dire need of new undergarments. I went to Target to "price them" to see if it was worth it. Then I felt pitiful and poor. But somewhat noble.

I'm going to go take a shower and then watch SuperNanny.

Spring Break Wrap-Up

As today is Friday, and the rest of the world doesn't have to work tomorrow either, my spring break is officially over now. Let's look at the run-down of what this week has given me...

Days slept in after 10:00: 6 out of 7
Free lunches out: 3
Paid for lunches out: 1
Times I shampooed the rugs: 2
Time spent exercising: 30 minutes
Episodes of "A Different World Watched": 12
Hours working in the yard: 1
Hours reading myspace: 14
Hours spent regretting my semi-sedentary lifestyle: ZERO.

SPRING BREAK! WOOOHOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! Only 2 more months of school!!! OWWWW!!!!!!

AHAHAHAAAHAHAHHAA!!!! I'm* hilarious.

What if instead of this:

and this:

We had this:

and this:


*Partial credit for this post goes to my husband because he brought it up. The rest of it goes to me because I found/made the hilarious pictures.

Trying for Contentment

We spend the first quarter of our lives in constant preparation for the next step. While in elementary school, we are being prepared for middle school. Middle school is spent in anticipation of high school. In high school, we're gearing up for college. College ends with job searches and never-ending choices of what to do next. I ended college preparing for marriage and for a teaching job. I got married, got the teaching job, and then moved on to working for the house. At 24, I've got the degree, the husband, the job, the house, and even two dogs. Now what?

After getting so much done in such a little amount of time, I've reached the state of being settled very quickly, and find myself somewhat antsy. I keep looking around thinking, "Ok, now we've got to move on to the next thing, and the next thing has to be huge, because we've only had huge things happen in the last 3 years." But who says that *anything* has to happen for a while. I need to follow my husband's example here, and just focus on being appreciative of all I've been blessed with, work on making myself as good a person as possible, so I'm even better prepared for the next big thing, whatever that may be. I've been given more than anyone deserves, and I'm going to take comfort in that. I will rest in the niche I have carved out for myself and be happy.

Two days in a row

Apparently old people love me. Yesterday, while at lunch with my mother, a VERY old man (we're talkin' 90) shuffled up to my seat and said, "You lookin' for a date?" I responded with a disappointed sigh, showed him my left hand, and said, "Sorry, I'm married." "Man! It's just not my lucky day," he groaned, and made his way back to his table. Then today, while in Ben Franklin helping my sister with center pieces, an elderly woman walked into the store, passed the red-aproned sales assistants, and demanded that I tell her where the pussy-willows were. I told her that I didn't work there, but I would be glad to come find her if I came across what she was looking for. She then launched into an explanation of how if you plant pussy-willows next to tulips, the tulips don't droop. I assumed that she was looking for *real* pussy-willows to plant next to her *real* tulips, but I didn't have the heart to tell her that she would only find fabric flowers in that store. After all, she shared such a valuable tip with me, why burst her bubble?

My friend

Allow me to present an acrostic I wrote about my friend Maura:

Makes the best pizza ever.
Always in the mood to gab about celebs.
Undoubtedly the best Karaoke Revolution partner.
Ross and I love her even though she always forgets her wallet or loses her keys.
Awesome beyond compare.

Lots of love to you, lady friend. See you this weekend I hope!!!!!!!!!

ATTN: No, I'm not about to pass out.

One of the things that annoys me most is when people I see everyday say to me, "You look pale. Are you ok?" Hello. I'm pale everyday. I've been pale everyday that you have seen me. My mother even says this to me, and she should know better than anyone else.

My fair skin, as I would rather put it, comes from my paternal grandfather, supposedly. He was a red-head, and while I'm not *really* a red-head, I do have all of the tendencies that accompany it: very light skin, freckles, sunburns, stubborness. The fact that this trait came from him makes it one of my favorite things about myself. I am more fair than anyone else in my family, and as I have gotten older I have learned to accept and love it. The only downside is that I really can't wear skirts or shorts for fears of blinding you all.

Although I love this about myself, I have spent the better part of my life fighting off offers to sit down because I look faint and daily inquiries of, "Are you feeling ok?" I've even recently bought into the genius marketing that is geared directly towards me and my kind: sunless tanning and bronzers that give you that "healthy" glow without exposing you to the sun and frying your skin. But my weakness comes more from the desire to get people off of my back than vanity. Maybe I should move to India. I hear that over there I would be revered and quite the eligible lady. They think the paler you are the better. I'm practically translucent in some places-they might make me their queen and feed me grapes.

My girl

I spend a lot of time talking about my epileptic dog on here. I have another dog though. Her name is Zapp (yes, with 2 p's), and I would like to tell you about her.

1. She is tall, pretty, skinny, and dumb-just like a model.
2. She has several polka dots on her tongue.
3. Her tail wags from the moment she wakes up until she falls asleep. And sometimes while she is asleep.
4. She doesn't use her barker very much, but when she does it's very loud and hound-dog like.
5. She loves to shake.
6. When Shooter igonores her, she pets him until he gives her attention.
7. She loves going up skirts. This is because she loves vaginas. Sorry but it's true.
8. Digging sends her into a euphoric fit.
9. She'll pee anytime, anywhere, just tell her to go.
10. She loves to sit in my office with me and stare out the porch door. It is the only time she stays still for more than two minutes.
11. She knows the way to piss Shooter off is to bite his bling (also known as his dog tags-you don't mess with a queen's accessories).
12. She tries to sneak up on the couch like a seal gets up on land.
13. She burps a lot.
14. She hates to be brushed.
15. She still lets Shooter be boss even though she's faster and bigger. I think she does it to make him feel good.

What can I say? I love her. That's right. I posted a lovey list about my dog. I'm sure she'd do the same thing for me if she could. I bet she'd post about how I'm nice cause I feed her and call her "Zappalong" and rub her belly and sing songs to her, like "I'm So Excited."

Finally Back to Normal

The final count of missed workdays ended up being 5. By Wednesday my co-workers and boss were insisting that I not come in until Monday. I didn't argue, so as of now, I haven't seen my students for 10 days. I'm actually very excited to see them tomorrow. And we'll get reaquainted just in time for spring break to start Friday afternoon.

This weekend was my time to test and see how much normal activity I can handle after my scary sickness. As of now, I have walked the dog, had a club sandwich, eaten several ice cream sandwiches, worked in the yard, mopped the floor, and played Mad Gab, all without incident. I'd say I'm good to go for work.

Thanks for all of your calls, emails, and posts of concern. I'm feeling healthy and happy that spring is here!

Ok, my a** is sufficiently kicked.

I will not be going AGAIN tomorrow. 4th day. I hate it. I've forgotten my children's names. They will all fail the SOLs because of this. Who wants to actually be sick on their sick days? Not me.

Gatorade is now my new love.

I have no clue what day it is. I mean, I know it's Wednesday, but the actual dates are beyond me. Ever since Sunday, I have spent my time in bed, nursing myself through one nasty case of the stomach flu, with the help of my wonderful husband.

It all started at 6am on Sunday. I flew out of bed to commence my 12 hour vomitting marathon that landed me at Patient First that evening. I hate Patient First, but not more than I hate my regular doctor who never called me back, despite me leaving a message stating that I couldn't even keep down water. Anyway, once I got to Patient First, and once I was asked about 879898 times if I was allergic to any medications, I was given a shot in my boot-ay to stop the nausea. That worked pretty much instantly, but I was still as weak as a little kitten, so the doctor decided he was going to hook me up to an IV after he took some blood. Good thing, too, considering I almost passed out when they took the blood.

After laying me down, taking my blood pressure about 4 times, giving me a cold compress, and helping me sip ginger ale, the nurses started my IV of, as my doctor put it, "Gatorade without the Gatorade." 1 1/2 liters later I felt much better and had to pee for the first time all day. Ross was extremely amazed by the IV and kept saying, "It's like you're eating, but you're not eating!" Anyway, the doctor sent me home with a prescription for anti-nausea pills, and orders to not push myself and to drink lots of Gatorade.

Ross got me home after a quick stop at CVS to stock up on fluids. I insisted on taking a shower. Dumb idea, friends. After about a minute, I had to beckon my poor husband to help me out of the shower. As he was trying to walk me to bed, I passed out on the floor. I woke up to him slapping me on the face, pleading with me to wake up, to which I responded with an annoyed, "What?!?!?!?!?!" Being the nice man that he is, Ross carried my mostly naked, completely soaking wet self to bed and made me stay there.

I thought I was only going to miss work on Monday. But after getting an email from my teacher friend Janie who said "Don't you dare come in here tomorrow and get us all sick," I missed Tuesday. I fully planned to go in today, but, in order to avoid getting reamed out by my mother and Janie, and in efforts to avoid a relapse, I'm taking another day off to make sure I'm 100% before going back in. I also don't want to expose anyone to this who might potentially give it back to me. So, it's time to go back to bed, snuggle up with my Gatorade bottle, and spend one more day healing before heading back into the germ-fair that is my classroom.

FAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT

I just ate a whole box of Tagalongs and a Dr. Pepper for breakfast.

Am I one of those testy, artsy types?!?!?!!

In efforts to drag me out of my funk, Ross took me out today and got me a sketch pad and some oil pastels. After just about 20 minutes of sketching I felt better than I have in weeks. Apparently my need to be creative had been stifled...or something like that. Anyway, this has shown me that I definitely need an outlet. My lovely bonus sister gave me an offer of joining forces to get each other out of the house and I should take her up on it. I'm thinking of doing something crazy like taking a belly-dancing class or something-just to get me out of my comfort zone and not take myself so seriously.

Down in the dumps and I can't get out

I'm finding it difficult to be happy about most things lately. I think it stems mostly from the fact that I'm bored as all get out. My job is challenging, of course, but I'm not allowing it to be life-consuming anymore in order to protect my sanity. I have no hobbies because I used to be consumed by my job and never used to have time. We're on our super-tight budget now so I can go out and do things that I would normally do. Plus, I'm so sucked into the vortex that is television that I don't want to get involved in anything that might cause me to miss one of my shows. It's soooooooooooooooo pathetic.

I'm mature

Girls in my class: *giggle, giggle, giggle*

Me: Ok, girls, settle down, finish your morning work.

(Brandon, another student, enters as giggling vaguely subsides)

Brandon: What is everyone laughing at?

Me: Your face.

Put-together girls

I have always been fascinated by girls who look perfect all the time. I'm sure you know the ones I'm talking about. They never look rumpled or unkempt. They always smell really good and never have a hair out of place. Their "I don't care how I look" appearances would require about 2 hours prep time for me. When I look in the mirror, I always see something slightly off, whether it be the length of my pants, the lay of my hair, or just my overall stature. I don't feel bad about myself when I notice my imperfections, I'm just amazed by the people who don't have them. If you ever want to see who I'm talking about, just head over to UR. Perhaps my four year journey there spawned this fascination, as it was facing me at every turn.

Who loves to cuddle!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?

It's Zapp. And maybe me a little, too.

I love breaking the 10th commandment

I am the most jealous person in the world. I don't mean that I think that Ross is going to cheat on me or anything like that (although I do tend to mutter things under my breath if I think a girl is flirting with him). I mean that I envy what other people have or what other people are like. Not admire. Envy. Covet. I want what they have or I want to be who they are. It's not in a malicious way or anything, and I feel no resentment towards these people. In fact, I tend to covet things about the people I love most in the world.

It's a really stupid way to live and a stupid thing to do (what with it being on God's Top 10 of what *not* to do). I'm blessed with a husband who I love like crazy and whose loves me back, and I have a life much more comfortable and easy than I would ever deserve. My family is constantly growing with new members who I love so much. I have awesome friends who I love more than words can say. I need to just shut the mess up. Shutting up now. Over and out.

As promised....

I think the noodle gives you a good size-reference.

OFFER

I will give my first born child to the person who comes over and fills in the hole in front of my house. The child is guaranteed to be cute, smart, and with an excellent sense of humor. Please, please, please.

T-5/6 Days until the Writing Test

On Tuesday of next week my children will take the multiple choice section of the VASOL Writing Test. On Wednesday they will take the direct writing section, requiring them to compose a piece of their own. Please keep following thoughts in your mind for us as these days approach:

1. That all of my children get sleep the night(s) before the test(s).
2. That they all eat breakfast.
3. That no one misses the bus.
4. That everyone comes to school, even if they are vomitting all over the place. We do have buckets if such mishaps do occur.
5. That my children finally develop an understanding of the differences between your and you're; two, to, and, too; its and it's, and wear and where.
6. That my children have lost the urge to drop "capital bombs" in the middle of words.
7. That Kevin will use the allowed dictionary.
8. That a certain child will transfer by then.
9. That another child will come back from transferring.
10. That I don't strangle them all as we make our final preparations for this uneccesarily stressful event.

Who hearts public education?!?!?!?!?!/?!!!!11?!?!?/