Up My Sleeve

Yes, my loyal readers (all four of you), I do have a million alpha letters floating in my head, whole paragraphs of them, actually.

I have blogs up my sleeve, but

Until I have more time...

And my computer quits acting like it's overdosed on Dial-Up...

Those little alphas will just keep floating, bumping into each other, causing brain spasms and cravings for...

GREEK FOOD?

More later--have to go help first graders learn computer (Actually, they help me). Ha!

Think You've Seen It All?

WATCH THIS.

Click on an UPPERCASE LETTER to start a song; then rollover the individual keys to make the "Pipeman" dance.

I personally enjoy, "Footloose," although "Staying Alive" ranks a really, really close second.

Rolling over "a" when Footloose gets to, "I'm Cuttin' It Loose!" is hilarious.

It's kinda' addictive, seeing how fast you can make him dance.

Ha, ha.

Odd Observances

I've been EXTREMELY busy lately, volunteering at school, selling all kinds of our junk on eBay (hi, Ness!--loved those glasses) and going to a Beth Moore Convention in Nashville this past weekend. Yay! I LOVE Beth Moore Conventions--Kay Arthur also spoke and Priscilla Shirer, daughter of Pastor Tony Evans. They were all tremendous speakers and FUNNY! Mandisa gave her testimony and a micro-concert, as well. Awesome testimony, awesome concert--that girl can sing for Jesus! And she's beautiful.

Being busy, however, has not kept me from being the observant person that I am.

Being an observant person, combined with staying up until 2a.m. this morning while cooking Taco Soup, seven Rotisserie hens and three humongous steaks for dinners the next three nights, started me thinking about all the odd things I observed in the past week. For lack of a better blog, here is my tally that started on Saturday:

1. At Beth Moore Convention, I spot two of my second (or third) cousins from Kansas City. This is odd b/c I live in Alabama, one of them lives in Missouri and the other in Atlanta, Georgia; we haven't seen each other in years and we just happen to bump into each other in a convention hall full of 23,000+ women, in Tennessee! What are the odds?!?

2. Saw ANOTHER neighbor's toilet by the road today for garbage pickup. This is odd b/c it was directly across the street from neighbor who tossed his toilet by the road a few weeks ago. I started to wonder if maybe the two toilets were friendly and the other just couldn't bear to live anymore without her friend (yes, toilets are female; urinals are male--common sense, people. Bidets, well, they're European). In case you don't know about my "obsession," (some would call it) with abandoned toilets, read this.

3. While tying up seven cornish hens this evening, in preparation for the rotisserie, I had the tremendously frightening thought that if I was ever asked to tie up a human being, I wouldn't be able to. The seven small hens gave me a fit, especially their little, fat legs, and they were all dead, dead, dead! This may be crazy to you but it's not to me. My hubby once had to tie up a guy that was breaking into some apartments we owned and were renovating, in downtown Kansas City. My hubby backed him into a corner w/a piece of lead pipe he'd just cut from the plumbing; he proceeded to tie the guy up so he couldn't run--then they sat, and watched each other suspiciously and waited until the police arrived; I won't say how long that took--it was downtown of a big city and I'm sure there were more heinous crimes being commited than breaking and entering. So see, it's feasible that I MAY be asked at some point in my life to tie somebody up. Maybe I should take a knot-tying class.

4. While tying up the hens, I sort of felt like a big bully. They were just little things--no more than 18 ounces each, each one naked with goose-pimpled, pale skin and a huge hole where their head once was. I gently crossed their legs, wrapped kitchen twine tightly around them and proceeded to criss-cross the twine up their whole body, strapping in their wings. I sort of felt like I should say a prayer over them while stabbing their little bodies onto sharp rods for insertion into the rotisserie. I couldn't watch as they cooked. But I did inhale when they started to smell good AND I did take a little sample of a leg before I wrapped them in a blanket of foil and placed them lovingly into the fridge to be served tomorrow night, to my five ravenous children, who will tear into them like voracious beasts. If they didn't taste so dang good, the experience may have left me a vegetarian.

5. Piwi
The word alone cracked me up. It reminds me of the word little kids often use when they have to potty. I won't say it here...okay, "weewee". PeeWee Herman also came to mind, in his white suit, dancing on the bar. His stupid, red bike with the annoying bell. Piwi is actually an organic baby food I saw at Target tonight. It's a new product of theirs--I know when something is new b/c I'm in there like...everyday. Piwi is a cross between peas and kiwi, if I remember right. I looked up the company tonight. The food looked yummy--I almost bought a little container called, "Baby Tex Mex-a little chunky," just to see what it tasted like. It also reminded me of this girl I used to know in high school that brought baby food to school everyday for lunch. And ate it! She was really skinny...and strange. Stranger even, my hubby dated her once..and only once.

6. There was this little first grade girl that I saw in the hallway at my kids' school today. She and another little girl were making their way to the restroom and they rounded the corner about the same time as I and we all three almost ran smack-dab into two sixth graders. The sixth grade boys were each carefully carrying foil pans full of oil--cooking oil, I think. So this little, piggy-tailed, button-eyed, rosy-cheeked little cutie asked the boys what they had. They said, "oil". She said, "oil?!?, what for?" "We're burning it." They kept walking and she turned to me and said in a sixth graders are so dumb-voice, "You can't burn oil!" "Actually," I said, in my soft, motherly voice that I hardly ever use with my own kids, "You CAN burn oil; it burns real easy". Her button eyes got really big and curious-looking, like I imagine every pyromaniac looked in first grade; she said "Oh!" and seemed oddly excited about her newfound knowledge. It's always the cute & quiet ones!

7. Zac, my baby, was getting a haircut today. I sat watching him for a little while and, for some reason, he kept making faces at himself in the mirror while Henry (our stylist) was cutting away. He's never done that before. It was cracking me up. Next time I'm taking my camera! There is nothing odd about this, I just had to tell the cute story about my baby--you know how that is.

Well, all hens are done and put away; uniforms are washed and ready to go for Picture Day tomorrow (I HATE picture day); and being in charge of Picture Day tomorrow, I'd better get in bed so that I'll at least LOOK like I know what I'm doing.

I'm finally going to post a picture of myself tomorrow. During our kids' school's Grandparent's Day Luncheon on Friday, someone took my camera from me while I was clickin' away and took a quick pic of my hubby and I. It turned out pretty decent. Since Tammi and Kat have been on my case since the first time I talked about getting a new "do," I'm sure they are jumping up and down in absolute delight right now...or muttering under their breath, "It's about time!"

Moral of this Blog: "Don't do anything weird b/c someone, somewhere, is watching" and "never give a cute first grader information about fire".

Mornings

This morning, as opposed to yesterday, is falling just a little shy of "Princess".

And, NO, I was not able to secure a pedicure last evening.

The morning is not awful, like "Alexander's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day"; it's just that two things happened this morning to dim the glow of yesterday's "posh" activities.

1) Every t.p. dispenser had only one square, well, more like 1/2 a square of t.p. hanging from it and apparently only *I* know how to reconcile that problem.

2) As I was brushing Zac's teeth, preparing him for the school day, a BIG, green booger suddenly appeared at the entrance (or exit in this case) of his left nostril. Before I could grab for some t.p. that would most certainly NOT have been there for me, the booger tumbled out of his nostril and onto my lap. All in very S*L*O*W motion.

Reality.

It smacks. It stings. It burns. It sucks.

Good Morning!

Miss Volleyball 2007

Our oldest made the school Varsity volleyball team this year and seems to have finally gained some control over her gangly adolescent parts.

She's like a totally different person on the court this year. Could have something to do with her confidence level increasing combined with her feeling more comfortable with her teammates, having known them for an entire year now.

More likely, it has to do with her wearing contacts instead of glasses this year; I cannot imagine how hard it was to see with glasses that were no doubt getting in the way, slipping down her nose and obstructing some of her peripheral and vertical vision. The former are important in volleyball more so than any other sport, for no other reason than the hard, white object being spiked right at your nose, as if marked by imaginary bullseye.

BTW, what would be the correct plural form of "bullseye"? Bullsseye or bullsseyes or bullseyeses.

Back on subject...

Her school just this year went to tenth grade, pushing us into the Varsity leagues, in Alabama that is the AHSAA(?). Still small compared to heavily populated public schools, we were of course put into the 1A division which means we travel quite a distance to play most teams. Small country teams, way out in "Deliverance Country". Most games are an hour to an hour and a half away which means that this week alone, the girls have traveled an hour and a half, two different days to play in their division.

Tonight, because of conflicting schedules, Anna rode the bus home. She called when they got close to school and I was home from cooking class so I proceeded to collect my oldest child.

I pulled up, she said goodbye to friends and Coach Jones and she hopped into the back seat. We got home, Anna got out and came around the back of the car to collect her backpack at about the same time as I was walking behind the car to the garage. I took one look at her outfit, raised my eyebrows, snorted a little and made a comment about her "cute outfit".


Here she is...Miss Volleyball 2007

Her unique sense of style runs on hubby's side of the fam.

Discarded Inspiration

Disclaimer: I don't know how I did it, but this post won't separate between paragraphs, Arrr!! Please, just overlook it if you're a Grammar Freak like me.

Discarded Inspiration

I was driving home Monday afternoon, and again, temperatures were reaching around 102 degrees--the fourteenth day in a row. I was in a state of driver's oblivion, you know, zombie-land, where you are driving but you don't remember a thing about it. You just hope that bump you hit that brought you back to the land of the living, wasn't a person or a crusted-over, turkey-vulture leftovers, dead dog.

I was rounding the corner about a block from home and I do a roll-through-stop at the sign, which is by the way, totally acceptable in the South--go figure. It happens to be garbage day and as I look to my left, one of my neighbors has obviously been doing some weekend renovations, as there is a toilet sitting out by the road, just waiting for the garbage truck to arrive and take it away.

"That's not a bad-lookin' toilet," I think to myself as I do a roll-through,"I wonder why they replaced it?" It was a nice shade of brown (taupe) and I like natural colors.

Everytime I happen to see a toilet sitting by the edge of the road, the first thing that comes to mind is, "Nnnnasty!" and then immediately, I start to feel sorry for the toilet, just sitting there by its lonesome, excommunicated from the family it has so humbly served for so long, not even a square of t.p. to keep it company, on its way to porcelain heaven...because I'm sure Angels need a place to sit and read, don't you think? Surely, it gets old just flying around all the time.

I think there ought to be a law that you have to cover your toilet when you send it away. I mean, it's a VERY personal item to just set out by the side of the road for every Tom, Sally and Harry to see. Your neighbors don't want to come walkin' out in their bathrobe on Monday morning, mindin' their own business and pickin' up the morning paper, to look over and see their neighbor's toilet lookin' back at 'em with that cold, blank (insert color here) stare.

Toilets are personal items. Yes, everybody uses them (even in Alabama). People have good days on their toilets and bad days on their toilets. I believe some of my worst days have been spent on my toilet. I don't want to go into details about this, people, I think we all know what I mean. We all know how personal a toilet gets the day after a big party; or after a Mexican meal gone awry; should I even mention "Morning Sickness"? Many a man reads the big sports story of the day there and many a woman has found out she's with child there.

See, just too personal. Why set that kind of history by the side of the road, in open display? People start thinking things about you that they don't need to think, and I won't even get started on if you happen to be one of those who doesn't clean your toilet before you set it out. Come On! Have some pride!

So, at this point, you think I'm already weird but, there's more...

I then begin to think about all the personal items that the city just allows people to put out in plain sight, for garbage removal. Can you guess what came to mind next??? You're right if you're thinking, "Mattress".

I find the mattress to be the most personal item. Think about it.

What happens on mattresses? Children are conceived on mattresses (most of the time); people die on mattresses, dark but true, nonetheless; young girls write in their diaries and spill ounces of tears every year over lost loves...on mattresses; I don't think about what young boys do on their mattresses. We recover from our worst illnesses on mattresses and we watch Seinfeld, King of Queens and Leno on mattresses, while eating chips and getting itchy; there are many a bodily fluid excreted on mattresses.

Children jump, spouses snore, babies bond, boys wrestle, girls dream, dads tickle torture, moms comfort, lovers kiss and I, well I snuggle in and read on many a rainy, crisp, fall day and those long, cold, winter nights when the sun sets early and there is nothing else to do. I also dream up many a Blog post on my mattress.

We spend many a dollar to dress our mattresses in 600-thread count Egyptian cotton and, for some, satin and lace, and still for others, sheets embroidered by our Grandmothers for our Wedding Day. We place our favorite pillows on it and even spray it with romantic fragrances. We kneel by the side of our mattresses and voice our desires, needs and fears to our God. Not to forget, our mattresses are present every time we swear after we stub our big toe on the frame. Oh, what a mattress would reveal if it could talk!

The "imaginaries" that are displaced by a tossed mattress are inumerable. Here's the small list:

Monsters, dust bunnies, boogie men, barbie heads, marbles, earrings, coins, cheese puffs and those ever-elusive, cold-and-creepy hands that reach out for your ankles after you turn out the lights; you run and jump as high as you can back into the safety of your plush mattress, so as not to get dragged under and eaten alive.

Ode to The Mattress!

From the old, grungy bachelor pad mattress to the space-age, "I can hold a glass of wine w/o spilling it" mattress; to the techno-savvy "I've got your Number" mattress to the nightmarish hotel mattress that everyone's afraid to touch; from the feather mattress and the old hay and bug-infested mattress to the water mattress, air mattress and the bungalow hammock. Finally, the ever-sexy, vibrating mattress.

These everyday personal items--a part of the family--these are what brought me out of my Blogger stupor and back to writing. There had to be a voice out there saying more than just, "Eewww" when passing by the family toilet on Main Street. There had to be a voice for all the displaced imaginaries. Someone had to cry, "ENOUGH!"

And so, I discovered on Monday, August 20, 2007, around Noon, while DWO (driving while oblivious) that I still have things to say that are important. Things that might make a difference to just one person...or object.

I had to be a voice for the voiceless, the discarded, the un-appreciated.

I had to keep Blogging.

That is my story.

Monkey on my Blog

I've been far too busy the past week and a half to worry about a monkey that's been on my back; he jumped on sometime around the start of school, he's hung on relentlessly, and this past weekend he really started to get heavy...and stinky.

I knew that I'd have to shake him soon because he's a big headache and he gets in my way much too often.

I've been toying with deleting my Blog altogether. It's a decision I have wrestled with deeply, which I find ridiculously silly; it's just a Blog, for Pete's sake.

I enjoy writing, to say the least, and I find Blogging to be very therapeutic, which I also find ridiculously silly; however, that particular aspect of Blogging has been studied and documented and recently published. But that's another Blog.

My toying with this "deletion idea" is rooted in Blogger's Block.

There are a million subjects of which I could Blog, most of them being personal in nature. My own and my family's mundane, daily, life events I mentally file consistently during the day as potential Blog materials; however, when I sit down to Blog, the events quickly identify themselves as not worthy to be Blogged. Why? I have no idea. Much of it has to do with my mood and my energy level, of that I know for certain. I guess you could chalk it up to Artistic Style. Ridiculously silly, huh?

For a long time now, I feel I have Blogged nothing of substance--which disappoints me (I'm a functioning first-born with a somewhat anal personality). It really chaps my hide because one reason I decided to start posting Blogs is I felt maybe I could make a difference, even if just for one person, I could express my opinions, I could share my deep faith and my struggles to get there, I could be funny, I could showcase whatever "talent" some people thought I possessed, I could help someone, I could be a role model to my oldest, whom also enjoys writing. My Blogs, as of late, have been...boring and horribly unoriginal.

For this, I sincerely must apologize. I have not done my best work; I've been posting crap, just to have a new post (sorry, Mark, I know the last thing you want to see at the end of your day, is more crap--ha, ha-ha).

My decision: I'm not yet ready to throw in the towel.

Today, on my way home from taking my youngest to get his four-year-old shots and to have the doctor check his "shrinking feet" (as he told the doctor), I discovered a little flush of hope welling up inside me once again.

I have a story, one that will make a difference, will give hope, will heal, will make some laugh and others cry. It will make me a role model once again in my daughter's eyes!

That story...



Is still being written in my head. It will appear sometime Tuesday, when my laundry and errands for the day are complete. When I have completely emptied myself of all my wife and motherly urges, I will once again renew my spirit with a Blog post.

I am determined to shake that monkey, once and for all, Tuesday.

At the least, he'll get a bath. He really stinks!

For now, I must retire for the evening.

Bouncin' for Jesus

My hubby's been so busy with Back-to-School planning that he accidentally gave our tithe twice last week. I found it a little humorous when I thought about going back and asking for one of the checks back.

The thing is, he didn't realize it until he took a break from school orientations and teacher work days and all the school's board meetings to check our online account, which he usually checks daily; both the checks had already cleared at that point. We couldn't even "Stop Payment" to Jesus. :0)

All in all, it wasn't bad--we took all our budget cash we hadn't used yet (we're on the Dave Ramsey plan) and put it back into the bank, so that extra tithe cost us some groceries, clothing, cosmetics, blow money, kids' allowance, eating out and entertainment for the next five days and we only actually bounced one $4.60 debit swipe; however, that swipe ultimately cost us $38 in insufficient fund fees. Apparently, we have such upstanding credit with the bank (how that happened, I don't know) that they continued to let us swipe that debit card even though we didn't have the funds. The kicker is, our account isn't so important to the survival of the bank that they thought, "Hey they're never overdrawn, maybe there's something awry here, we should inform them today!" As a matter of fact, we JUST TODAY finally received that letter from them, informing us of our deficiency. That's exactly one week since the overdraft happened. Thank goodness my hubby is anal about checking our account.

So, this is how I interpret the bank's actions:

We were a little worried about YOUR money's safety so we took a look at your account after you overdrew your funds. We found that you responsible people have enough ethics, and just enough income, to possibly get your bank account back into good standing (and still pay us overdraft fees...first). We'll be underhanded enough, legally of course thanks to our big money lobbyists and expensive lawyers, to take advantage of those ethics by letting you have a negative balance and still keep swiping so that we can get paid by Visa and also get $38 more of your money to invest back into Customer Service training. If enough customers keep a negative balance, soon we'll pay our tellers enough to smile and say, "Next, please" instead of "Helloooo, I'm open (you idiot)" and our lines will be shorter than 50 people at Noon on Fridays, when we all, especially Managers, take our long lunch breaks. Maybe we'll even open our doors at 9a.m. as posted, instead of 9:15, therefore alleviating our customers of late arrivals to dentist appointments. Have a nice day and have a yummy, green lollipop!

And when did Overdraft Protection become an option, not the norm? I don't know, I thought banks were there to protect our money while we allow them to invest it and make money for themselves. On the contrary, it seems that it's now a priviledge to use the banks services and we should bow down and kiss their feet at such a priviledge and beg for Overdraft Protection?

Sure, I was a little peeved about the whole thing, especially after sitting for twenty minutes with a four-year old that they tempted with crayons but no paper to color on. Maybe they expected us to purchase that also. We did NOT--I let him color on their nice, shiny, colorful, expensive flyers offering customers Overdraft Protection and all those other neat little "perks". I think we colored on about $38 worth. I told him to make sure he colored both sides. :0)

My hubby worked on them for awhile and I think we got our $38 back but not b/c we threatened to take our "large" balance somewhere else. They just snickered at that threat.

Now that I've blogged about it and let it all out, I feel much better.

Talent

Meet some local talent. I think this is the firehouse right down the street from us. I'm gonna' go check 'em out tomorrow and find out. I'll catch ya' later with an update.

It's been said everyone's good at somethin'...

This is somethin' alright.

Our tax dollars hard at work. :0)

Projects

Summer Projects
Less than a short, quick month left until the kiddos are back in full swing at school. Seeing how I'll be gone from them for one more week come July 23, I'm desperately trying to stuff as much fun into two weeks as I can. Just waiting for hubby's paycheck to deposit and then we're off to spend some of it. Botanical Gardens, IMAX at the Space Center, Children's Museum, painting these humongous rocks we have around our pool, picnicking with music during Concerts in the Park, hiking Monte Sano and maybe checking out the planetarium. I'm also secretly desparate to get us into the geocaching craze. I have a nutty friend here who takes her girls out every weekend for hide and seek geocaching. It's really cool. Of course, I'd probably get us lost whereas, she being a NASA engineer, knows how to use those dang GPS things. Last, I'd especially like for us to go visit Birmingham for the day and see all the Martin Luther King sites, if we can swing it; it's only about 1 1/2 drive. Tomorrow, is FREE kid's movie day--yeah! We'll have to sneak in our own popcorn and dollar candy but they let you bring in your own drinks. Cannot wait!

Home Projects (sorry this is a really long run-on paragraph)
We have been in our house for a wicked-quick year, come October, and we still have our office files laying in semi-stacked piles on the floor. Our "office" is in an extremely wide hallway that connects one side of the house to the other, more to the point, the family room to the "formal" rooms (living and dining). The area used to be an entryway from the former garage, into the house that also included a back porch, storage area and we think, laundry room. Yeah, it's pretty good size. The "office" is visible from about every room but, most importantly, the front door. All the piles of office files on the floor are in view of anyone who happens upon our doorstep-- friends and burglars, the UPS guy, Saturday-morning Jehovah's witnesses, even the curious, little chipmunk that lives right outside the door. Needless to say, the look is getting a little old, makes me itchy to start organizing and puts me in a testy mood most days. We've (I) decided to go for an office area with file cabinets that look more like traditional furniture than cubicle crap. Know what I mean? Why fix up the rest of the house only to leave big, metal cabinets in full view of every room, lookin' like the Fifth Precinct? Problem is, we cannot afford the traditional furniture look. Okay, we could save for awhile to buy something and we have...but, we always seem to find something else more exciting we'd rather do with the money. Like....Atlanta Getaway or 15th Anniversary Honeymoon on the Beach Without Kids, heck, even a quick dash to Chattanooga for Sticky Fingers. You know, memory-maker moments. I don't know, maybe we're foolish; maybe we're immature; maybe we're impulsive. We like to have fun and not take life too seriously. Our kids will only be here so long and, right now, we're trying to make memories for them and probably make up a little since we've moved them from friends and family twice in the last three years. We're in a great place now (knock on wood) that looks like a keeper and we're crossin' our fingers real tight. After all the kids leave home, we can buy some nice furniture, pick all our files up off the floor and start to care what other people think about our office space. LOL. Funny how blogging brings you to your senses. Cabinets...what was I thinking?!?

Project One Buck
One of my far-away coffee buddies who is now also my blogging mentor, Tammi, recently blogged about a group in Michigan that she and her hubby used to hang with in college. Check it out, it's a pure and simple project.

Blogging Project
As is a common occurrence with me, I've been blessed with another "project" on my heart and I'm praying and working through some thoughts so as not to have to eat too big of a shoe. Hopefully, I will quickly work through everything and still feel the need to blog about it, since I've now mentioned it. Sometimes, I work through a burden and then He takes it away. The burdens are questions, really; questions I have about the rightness, wrongness and often presumptuously assinine assumptions we have in our heads about church, believers and Christ. These questions are a result of my past relationships with the church, my current relationship with the church and what I see as the future church, which has alot of purging and growing and changing to do. See, I almost gave it away prematurely and surely would have had to eat a size 11.

I read too much. Then my brain starts buzzing and the buzzing gets on the Lord's nerves I think. So he takes the buzzing and forms it into a burden and then lays it on my heart. At that point, it can remain a burden or become an opportunity, all dependent upon how much prayin' I do and how badly I'm lookin' for His answer, not mine. Sometimes, the burdenous opportunity shouts in my heart to become public on my blog and other times, it quietly becomes knowledge I've gained to be shared from my heart, individually, when the time is right. How do I know when to share? Usually, the subject of the knowledge I've struggled to gain, becomes a common theme, over and over again, in many conversations I'll be privy to--whether written, verbalized or blogged.

Often after this happens, I question myself...did my questions come to mind because I've been reading and hearing the same theme over and over or did I start noticing the theme because I've searched for and was given the knowledge my burden relentlessly tore at me to find? It's the chicken and the egg. I never really know the answer, once all is said and done, but I'm always amazed at how small He can make the world by plucking all our heartstrings at the same time.

Wow, I think I'm bloggin' over my own head! Sometimes, I just type what's being telegraphed in my head and then when I'm done, I realize I don't remember any of what I just blogged. Definitely, the Spirit moving. Always, always gets me excited and makes me smile real big when I know I've been moved by THE Spirit. What an awesome gift. Sorry if I'm gettin' too heavy for some of you more controlled believers...however, might try steppin' out of your comfort zone; might find you like it and it's VERY freeing.

Have movies to watch, of course. We're a movie family!

Blog to ya' in a couple, k?

Nyquil Utopia

So, a week ago Wednesday, a lovely lady I consider to be one of my best friends in all the world, on top of, being the lovely lady that introduced me to all sorts of naughty things in life, like coffee, took her three girls and left our lives once again.

My coffee buddy was gone.

My house was still and quiet.

(My kids were outside).

I felt exhausted...my neck was sore, my joints were sore, I certainly had overdone the visit.

And the coffee. I was visiting the loo in record numbers.

Went to bed early and woke the next morning feeling much the same.

Except I was stuffy, my head hurt, and my stomach felt like two aliens were inside cage fighting for some title.

Yep, I definitely was coming down with something.

I spent almost the whole day in bed, in fearful anticipation of being sick while driving five kids, two hours to Nashville for a non-stop, full-weekend Wedding Event, of which we were a part--no hooky allowed. Told the kids to watch movies, fix PBJ for lunch, don't answer the phone or door, stay inside and not to even think about whining to me about some petty argument. Basically, the "if you're not bleeding, don't bother me" speech. I woke for about two hours in the evening to pickup tents made from blankets, vacuum the floors, do a load of laundry, shoosh the kids off to bed and write a blog while waiting for said laundry. Then I zonked, again.

Friday dawned very bright and extremely early but I felt quite better and uncharacteristically energized, probably brought about by the adrenaline rush my body was experiencing from having to wake the kids for showers and teeth brushin' (no b. o. allowed during travel), load the dishwasher, feed the dog, pack bags, fill the tank with gas, supply the troops with snacks and drinks, remember the items Gerald had forgotten to pack earlier in the week, download and print directions, not forget any of the wedding items and be headed out the door by 10 a.m., bound for Music City, USA.

The trip went smooth, not even one bathroom break was requested. We didn't even have a TV for entertainment this time. The only glitch was taking the wrong exit in route to pickup Gerald downtown. He'd been at a convention in Nashville since Wednesday and it ended at noon so we swung by to pick him up, go eat lunch and then check into our hotel.

We won't discuss the hotel, except to say it was not satisfactory. It wasn't nasty, just not worth what we paid, compared to our Atlanta hotel. Since we were only staying one night and I was totally beat up from my head cold, I let it slide.

So, I was feeling totally beat after the rehearsal and was craving Nyquil and sleep like some kind of confused crackhead. I couldn't find my way to the Nyquil aisle at Walgreens fast enough and, back at the hotel, I sacrificed brushing my teeth so I could get into bed first and let Gerald deal with the kids.

Again, dawn very bright and extremely early. But, alas, it was not early. It was 10 a.m.! We'd missed the "fabulous, free" breakfast buffet and we all had to get ready including ironing stuff, wrap the gift, pack up all our stuff, eat lunch and be at the church ready for pics at 12:30.

We made it with ten minutes to spare, after having had a really good, sit-down Mexican lunch.

Yeah, we're THAT good.

The wedding was my type of wedding...short and to the point, with a really awesome kiss at the end, to seal the whole deal; it was so short, in fact, Zac had only enough time to complain once--something akin to, " Ugh, I thought you said there was going to be cake!?!"

I was still groggy but feeling better--no more aching. Twenty minute drive to the reception, ate some finger food and YUM-O cake, grabbed a coke, bottle of water, five kids and said our goodbyes.

Friday night, we had given the kids a whirlwind tour of bumpin' Downtown Nashville--eaten at one of our favorites--Spaghetti Factory! While waiting for a table, we'd walked past the famous Wildhorse Saloon while they were doin' a boot-scootin' boogie on the bar, left a few of our bucks at a tourist trap, tried to convince the beggars we had NO CASH (we honestly did not), unsuccessfully dodged smokers lined up outside the bars like birds on a wire (which is interesting b/c Nashville is still a smoking town) and stopped to listen to really good country karaoke outside yet another honky-tonk in Downtown Nashville on a Friday night. I think everyone in that town sings. Did I mention the $12 we had to pay to park?!?

All in all, it was another interesting entry into the kids' childhood memory banks. I'm surprised I remember any of it.

Back in Huntsville, the rest of the week was touch-and-go. One day I went and helped paint classrooms at school, the next day, I was down all day totally exhausted. I didn't even have any desire to Blog. Highly unusual. I had no desire to clean or do laundry either. NOT highly unusual :0)

TODAY, I'm finally feeling totally back to myself and I'm blogging.

I fell off the face of planet earth and found some groggy, Nyquil-induced utopia where there are no kids, dark chocolate grows on trees, white bread doesn't make you fat, dogs don't have bad breath and their matted fur eventually turns into money, young hotties massage your feet, offer you really awesome coffee drinks and don't call you, "Mam".

I'm not sure the phrase, "it's good to be back" would be appropriate. I'll just go with, it's real to be back in reality.

See why it took so long for me to blog?

The kids are leaving tomorrow to stay with Papa and Memaw in Kansas City for two whole weeks. Our fifteenth wedding anniversary falls during this time and we're gonna' try to get out of town between Gerald's meetings and painting bedrooms. If we can't, I'll just go visit Walgreens for more Nyquil and another installment of, "Would You Like A Massage With That Drink?"

Did you hear that?...dirty laundry and closets that need purging are calling my name.

Yep, just keepin' it real.

I'M HIGH

So, I have to hurry because my hubby just went to get some more gauze and some hydrocodone to deal w/the pain I'm sure to have soon from having all four molars out today.

I thought I wouldn't be able to blog but I thought I'd try before the laughing gas wore off...and to see if I could still type. It's a little hard but I think I'm typing okay.

Maybe I'm really slow, like the drunk people you see on T.V. pulled over by the cops.

Am I rambling?

Everything is really funny to me right now. Zac has tripped twice and I cracked up laughing with my chipmunk cheeks.

My mouth feels like cotton and I feel nauseous at times, mostly when Zac is running circles around the room.

Everything went well. They didn't have to use stitches after all; my teeth just gave way.

Gerald would be really mad if he knew I was sitting up instead of reclining like I'm supposed to be.

He and I had a small tif last night and it's all I could do to keep from crying while under the funny gas.

Maybe I did, who really knows.

All I really remember is they seemed to have a hard time pulling out tooth number one and I could hear the cracking and tearing of whatever it is that cracks and tears. But it was sort of like a dream and I kept thinking maybe I'm already at home asleep and I don't even know it.

Okay, I think this will turn out to be a seriously weird blog.

I remember the assistant saying something about cookies and the dentist asked if she was going to throw up. Maybe I was actually talking.

I talked to God alot when the nitrous first kicked in; glad he was there. Now I know why we all need faith. Out of body experiences are not something to go alone.

Well, I'm starting to feel really cold and a little nauseous again and I have to get back into "post-surgery position" on the recliner before Gerald gets back.

I think I'll go take a look at myself now. Maybe I'll take a pic and post it.

Ha, that's funny.

I can't feel my lower lip and I keep asking Gerald if I'm slobbering. He laughs and says, "Not yet." He says he should record this.

Ooh, I think I'm starting to feel a little pain. Me no likey.

Ha, ha again.

Tomorrow I'm sure I'll be so embarrassed I posted this but I just HAD to.

Don't hold it against me.

Tomorrow I'll surely be on hydrocodone so, seriously, don't expect a blog.

Love you all. Enjoy Easter.

SURVIVOR HUNTSVILLE

It's NOON.

The last of the fifth grade zombies just left.

AH!

I got some kicks last night ambushing the gun-totin', be-goggled fifth grade nothings with a stockpile of water balloons...and it felt GREAT!

Until they started shooting me w/those little bebees. I have red welts all over.

And who brought the automatic?!?

I should have put hot sauce on their eggs this morning, little suckers.

The best part of the evening was about 10p when Gerald showed up w/Nathan, Jake's best friend. He left yesterday afternoon for Atlanta, traded Molly for Nathan and surprised the heck outta Jake last night.

It was a great reunion--hugging, tears. Who would've thought from fifth grade boys?

So, I'm left w/bright green icing on the carpet, several Mountain Dew spills, something green and gross stuck to the couch, two pair of goggles, one flashlight, a pair of size 12R jeans and a best friend.

All in all, we did survive.

I'm gonna' go sit on the backporch swing, listen to the chirping birds, drink some sweet tea and contemplate how best to clean up all the minute neon bebees all over the place.

P.S. REMEMBER TO SET YOUR CLOCKS FORWARD TONIGHT!!!

WAITING FOR THE DOORBELL TO RING

They just shot the neighbor's window.

I'm waiting for a knock on the door.

At least they came in and told me.

At least it's just a little, harmless pebble.

Harmless. Ha.

WHAT WAS I THINKING?!?

Eight be-goggled, totally camoed fifth grade boys, seven AirSoft Rifles/Pistols, one VERY loud and annoying whistle. That lasted one hour; then they came inside. AHHH!

Seven large pizzas and four two liters of Mountain Dew later, we delve into the lavishly frosted Cookie Cake. Then, there are Oreos--handfuls--Warheads, sour strings and sour jelly beans; I'm sure this will lead to at least one sour stomach tonight.

There is boy stuff EVERYWHERE--stinky shoes, half eaten food, things you don't want to know.

It smells like wet dog. Don't know why I "refreshed" the carpet today. DUH.

Somebody brought a Wii game system; turns out, it's not so Wee! Lot of money for such little thrills.

Played a Crossword Puzzle for a prize--Whoopi Cushion, of course. It was quiet for five minutes until they all forfeited. I'm such a NERD!

"Lord of the Rings" will quiet them down, right? Please, Lord.....

Back outside after dark to play Flashlight Tag. Yay, some peace and quiet for me--poor neighbors; dogs are barking everywhere.

I hear rumbling of tummies and something about Shaving Cream and snoring. No sleep for the weary tonight.

Oh my gosh, WHAT IS THAT SMELL?!? I think I'm gonna' faint.

Boys are so much more up-and-down energy than girls; girls just won't shut up.

11AM cannot come too soon.

I just heard, "This is an awesome party. Thanks, Mrs. Porter."

Awesome Mom! Awesome Mom!

Note to self: plan a practical joke on the dad who gave them all a Vault to drink on the bus ride back from field trip today.

No School. Field trip. Vault. Cake. Oreos. Candy. Mountain Dew. Long night ahead.

Somebody, please help me.

BLOGGER BULIMIA

I don't post for days at a time and then, boom, three blogs in one day. Guess you could call me a bulimic blogger. This is the last one for today and it's quite awesome, I do have to say.

My husband turned me onto this video; apparently, they don't have enough to do at work so they get on GoogleVideo and watch "funnies". The mom in this video--from "Malcolm in the Middle"--I just love her. How Many Times Have You Wanted To Do This???!!!

You'll have to click the "play" button in the bottom left corner after the link opens.

http://video.google.com/videopopup?q=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DtwAAAMQUTm7yoST6FbB9nxoKeLz3huKBlsr04yuWr8VS0oZ_9FTqR8R-5FgBrkE2Cpwl4YmfBYeMFe-RV6a5Z9uFD5z3UeJSM_2gpJDD7APD4tK1en6mOShtpkUyjLfV11ijqdrvjacypwrlwZdnYTr7F0ZcxpSwXTW6vUca9HegnXeFk3nvKRNtQP6sli_OwSunW9ZaJIHgj_peIqG5FnErhO6CbDuNAgIsvlXmvzudAxHToJKjVmcqFYmGlHZASKcf5w%26sigh%3DC_jW1OLGSInpI6hyj7-sHIfoehQ%26begin%3D2560%26len%3D154633%26docid%3D-2677362849377990424&docid=-2677362849377990424&fscid=fsc_1455617723&windowtitle=Two+Angry+Women+-+Female+Road+Rage.+-+Google+Video+-+Full+Screen

WISDOM

I WISH I WERE A GLOW WORM

A GLOW WORM'S NEVER GLUM

HOW COULD YOU BE UNHAPPY

WHEN THE SUN SHINES OUT YOUR BUM?