MY WEEK

While basketball ended Saturday, softball got going full swing with three games this week, on top of, spring being ushered in Friday and Saturday with 50mph wind gusts and storms lasting until 3 am on Sunday morning. Lights flickered on and off all night, thus Zac and Anna slept on the family room floor while I stayed up and clicked back and forth between the latest warnings on the WeatherChannel and "Mommie Dearest" on Bravo. The spring winds ushered in a terrible spring cold for me this weekend BUT allowed my five beautiful children an escape from mom's chore list to play a hearty game of capture the flag, ride bikes, eat ice cream sandwiches, work up many a grass-stained knee and perform several impromptu backyard plays. Having five kids has its advantages--they usually entertain each other, can split into two teams and perform a play w/many characters--our house has about as many impromptu plays as it does arguments.

I began reading a book, "The Birth Order Book," by Dr. Kevin Leman and have thus given up blogging...for awhile. If you haven't read this book, it's amazing; many
of life's mysteries are completely unveiled by this book. I never would have guessed that birth order played such a huge role in EVERYTHING! Crazy-amazing book that I would recommend to anyone and everyone. It's a definite easy read; it's written by a Doctor of Psychology but is easily understood by laymen and is filled with interesting stories that help you understand some of today's celebrities, corporate moguls and, most importantly, your family.

School was busy this week, as usual. The Academy offers multitudes of hands-on learning opportunities for our children in many forms, with the favorite being field trips--on average the kids usually have two field trips EACH per month. At first, I thought this was just too much, b/c the amount of time the kids were out of school; then I would hear the kids come home and tell me, with excitement in their voices, about history or science or whatever, and I realized that they were missing nothing, instead learning, and retaining, much more. This week was no exception: Jake took second place in the category Patriotic Speech/fifth grade, at the Regional Speech meet in Muscle Shoals, Alabama. He recited, "A Father's Prayer," by General Douglas McArthur; Andrew learned about math, science and, quite possibly, some history at the Alabama Bread Company; Molly learned about being gracious and polite, how to accept a gentleman's arm, how to signal when you're finished eating and how to set a proper table at the annual Third Grade Manner's Luncheon, complete with limo ride, red carpet entrance, little gentleman's rose presentation and full seven-course gourmet meal, served by none other than the daddies, themselves; Anna learned about performance art, makeup, backstage responsibilities, and "the classics" when her English class attended the production of "Oklahoma," performed by the drama students of Grissom High School; soon they'll be attending Huntsville High School's presentation of, "Beauty and the Beast".

Friday morning, I thought my neighbor was quite possibly dead. Gerald and our two oldest left early--around 6:45--b/c Anna, our overachiever, leads a Friday morning Middle School Bible Study at school. Our neighbor's middle child, who is about 3 I think, was out in the street w/his jammies on looking for his mommy (for those who may be gasping at this point, please, I've had a couple of my children wander at about this same age). Gerald pulls into their drive and Anna gets out and leads "little man" back inside his house but the house is dark and "the daddy" has obviously already left for work--his truck's gone. So, Gerald, not wanting the "little man" to get out again peeks in the doorway and yells, "Helloooo..." No answer. He asks little man, "Where's your mommy?" He says, "In the van," which is sitting in the driveway and this, of course, scares Gerald a little; however, she wasn't in there. So, I'm watching all this from our doorway--he knocked on all their doors several times and hollered a few times; I start to get a little worried so I put on my sweatshirt and tennies and walk across the street, prepared to go inside, something my husband is leary of doing since "the hubby" is not home and we live in a concealed weapon state, not to mention, the South--(people here defend w/their guns, don't hesitate to do so, and almost everyone I know here has one--in their house, their car, their purse. Crime's pretty low here, imagine that.) At this point, we're both a little worried b/c they have three small kids and the dog is out walking around looking "anxious." So, as I'm about to walk in the open door, "the Mrs." finally comes to the front door, eyes wide and looking confused, hair mussed, babies crying, poor girl, it's only 6:45 and her day doesn't look like it's off to a great start but, at least, it's Friday. So, everything was fine--"little mister" had just decided to let himself out w/the dog and mommy was still asleep at that hour in a room w/a fan on and awakened by her neighbors who she barely knows, banging on the doors and ringing the bell. Glad all ended well. (Disclaimer: We don't live in a trailer park w/neighbors that have three little dirt-eaters; "the Mrs. and hubby" are responsible parents that happen to have an ingenious "little man" with crazy-mad climbing and lock-picking skills. For those of you who may not have boys yet, this is common w/boys--they like challenges and adventures from a young age--buy key locks, not turn- and button-locks...and hide the key well.)

I saved the best story for last. While I was sitting last night watching the weather warnings and Gerald was outside pulling our "good" car inside from the hail, the telephone rings; mind you, it's about 10:45pm so I figure it's Dad and Mom calling to see if we're conscious of the bad weather and we're doing okay. It's not. Weird phone call--first of all it's a relay-call. Now, for those of you not familiar w/a relay-call, let me say that I find them annoying and I realize this is prejudice in a certain way, nonetheless, they're annyoing. Relay-calls are calls made from hearing-challenged and/or mute persons to hearing persons, using a TDD(?) machine. They type a message, the TDD(?) machine sends it to the operator who then "talks" the message to a hearing person--who happened, last night, to be me. When we owned several Domino's Pizza stores, our store in Kansas was in the same city as a National Deaf College, and therefore, many hearing-challenged citizens lived in that city and we frequently had TDD(?) calls; as you can imagine, ordering pizza via delay made for slower than normal ordering time, which was preferably 30 secs or less. Order takers, myself included, used to hate hearing the operator announce a delay-call b/c it just, to put it bluntly, kinked our rhythm and some may call that merciless and mean and I agree, but I also say that it's just human nature. So, back to the call last night. The operator starts relaying our messages back and forth: Operator: " 'Hi, Amy, remember me, ____ from Omaha?'...go ahead" Me: "No, I don't know who you are...go ahead" Operator: " 'We went to such-and-such school together'...go ahead" Me: "I don't know you and it's very late here..go ahead" Operator: " 'Oh, I'm sorry'...he hung up." Wrong delay-call number, end of story, right? No, while I'm sitting here writing this post, I get a call from "Mr. Relay" again and it goes like this: Operator: "Hi, this is a relay operator, do you know how a relay call works?" Me, exasperated: "Yeah, I know, go ahead." Operator: " 'Hi, Amy, I'm _____ and I used to live in Lincoln; now I live in Florence (AL)'...go ahead." Me: "I still don't know who you are--I don't know anyone from anywhere in Nebraska...go ahead." Operator: " 'Oh, okay, sorry I guess I do have the wrong person'...he hung up," said the Operator, sounding a little amused, and we sort of giggle and I hang up. Okay, so, I say it's a weird call b/c it's delayed; everything is in slow motion and the operator hears everything being conversed so it's sort of like an eavesdropper/voyeur in the middle of your conversation. On top of that, it's always annoying to get a wrong-number call, let alone while you're there tapping your toe waiting for some person that you don't know from Adam to get that you don't know him and you're not "the Amy" he thinks you are. I wait for the Operator to respond so I can hang up; I think about hanging up on him but then think to myself, "How rude." Besides, the emotion you're trying to project by slamming the phone down is lost on someone who cannot hear that "emotion". So, now, I'm waiting to see if he calls back to convince me that I know him--Amy ________ is a common name. (Mom and Dad, just in case you think this blog has anything to do with the call, think again, I don't put my last name on here--you know, that leaving the door unlocked analogy.) If he does call again, I'll have to put my husband on the phone, although I don't know if that would translate like I would like it to over a TDD(?) machine. :0)

That's it...my week, with all the day-to-day, ho-hum edited out. I'm late for a backyard play so I must leave you all for now; hopefully, the days of my next blog will not be so widely spaced. Enjoy your Sabbath; remember to rest.