Cat sighting

After about 4 days under my bed, Jet has decided to join us. Monday he made his first daytime appearance, and every day since he's spent more and more time around us all, except for Scott, who he continues to avoid like the plague. But I can't say I blame him, as Scott does not care for cats in the least, cannot even pretend to like cats for my benefit, cannot even try to pretend. In this picture you can kind of see where Jet was shaved from about mid-back down. Though it is growing back in quite nicely, it sort of resembles a reverse mullet.












Here's where the story gets a little complicated. I didn't think Jet was going to make it. I was seriously afraid he was going to starve himself to death in protest of living with us and I was planning on taking him back. So last Sunday the girls and I went to an animal rescue place in Vancourt, Texas. I can't even begin to explain the circumstances the animals were living in at her house, but simply put there were 31 cats and 57 dogs-I am NOT EVEN LYING-living in this tiny filthy house with this filthy lady. It's kind of a situation where I feel like if someone called animal services this place would be shut down due to cruelty to animals. The house was beyond horrid, with crushed litter, animal poop, food, and pee-covered newspapers all over the floors. There were pens made of chicken wire in the living room filled with dogs covered in dirt and poop. Bags of cat food were spread out on the floor and the cats had chewed holes in the bags and were eating out of them. Water bowls looked like they hadn't been changed in months. Bags of litter were stacked in random places and those had been clawed through also and cats had just pooped on what had leaked out of the holes. There was cat throw-up and poop on the counters in the kitchen. If I had not saved at least one animal from that house I think God would have struck me down as I drove away. And if it sounds bad to you, believe me, it was SO MUCH WORSE.

So anyway, much to Scott's dismay, we now also have a kitten named Dixie.

Skylar turns 1

Today Skylar is 1 year old. And what a year it's been! I have to admit I had my doubts early on as to whether or not we were going to keep her, what with all the screaming, and then there was the screaming, followed by more screaming, but we all hung in there and she made it.

She's not walking yet, but she will take 2 steps on her own and up to 4 if you really turn on the coaxing. She has given up the bottle completely, as bottles are for babies, and she is a big girl! So big, in fact, that she is too good to eat baby food, even the toddler ravioli that I've tried to pass off as big girl food. For breakfast she east two, count 'em TWO, packets of maple and brown sugar oatmeal. For lunch she usually has some chicken and corn and peas or small carrots, and one time, though I'm sooo sorry to admit this, she even had a hot dog. For dinner she eats whatever we are eating. She only has 8 teeth, so we cut it really small and she crams it all in her mouth and we call it good. Skylar loves "cookies" which are really ritz wheat crackers, and she can eat 11, yes 11, mini strawberry pancakes at one sitting. All she drinks is whole milk with a little bit of ovaltine or ice water, which is her favorite. But I think she just likes the sound the ice makes beating against the inside of the sippy cups when she shakes it.

Skylar is quite the talker, which is good because I know exactly what I need is another kid running their mouth around here, and she jabbers constantly. She's also extremely nosy, and right now she's trying her hardest to open a box that the UPS man left here even though it goes to our neighbors' house. She also spends a lot of time trying to make long distance phone calls.

All in all, she's really wonderful, especially if you don't count the moments when you say "No!" and she throws herself face down on the floor and pitches a fit for the ages. I guess sometimes some of the best things in life really are the things you don't plan.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SKYLAR!!!

I truly think we are getting better at this. We have the hot chicks on guitar, the surly guy, and the baby-licious backup dancer.

Tagged

I have been tagged by Amy to answer these questions. And yes, I think doing these things is a little stupid, but I do them. Why? FOR MY FRIENDS. I'm not going to be the griper who spoils the party. And also because you will all lead a better life just knowing these extra tidbits about me.

Four jobs I have had in my life:
1. I sold cell phones
2. I pretty much ran a dry cleaners
3. I was a Branch Office Administrator at Edward Jones
4. I worked at a bank as a teller and also balanced the ATM machines

Movies I have watched more than once
1. Sense and Sensibility
2. Practical Magic
3. Road Trip
4. Cars

Four Places I have lived
1. Rome, Georgia
2. Cleveland, Tennessee
3. Fairbanks, Alaska
4. Honolulu, Hawaii

Four T.V. Shows that I watch
1. Grey's Anatomy
2. Biggest Loser
3. Project Runway
4. Brothers and Sisters

Four places I have been
1. Jamaica
2. Bahamas
3. Disneyworld
4. Disneyland

Four People who e-mail me (regularly)
1. Scott
2. Tina Chester (the Colonel's wife)
3. The people at Overstock.com send roughly 3 a day
4. Amber

Four favorite foods
1. Peach Cobbler
2. Kung Pao Chicken
3. anything from Quiznos
4. spaghetti

Four Favorite Beverages
1. water
2. sweet tea
3. dr. pepper
4. tequila (just thought I'd throw that in there)

Four Places I would like to visit
1. Tampa (I would like to visit for 2 years)
2. Seattle
3. Mexico
4. Europe

Four friends I am tagging to do this
1. Katie M
2. Lucinda H
3. Amy P
4. Jin P

Things you may not know about me
1. I tend to be OC
2. I thread needles and sew with my left hand
3. I'm probably the best multi-tasker you'll ever meet
4. I'm pregnant (oh ha ha ha, just seeing if you're paying attention)

Things I am looking forward to in the coming month & Year
1. moving in June
2. Scott's command being over and done with
3. Owen going to school every day
4. Brian and Jenny's baby coming

It's gonna be a very merry birthday

Tomorrow is Skylar's 1st birthday.  Today we found out Skylar has the flu.  Which is great news, considering the fact that at first they were positive she had RSV.  Of course today was a holiday for the clinic on post, so I had to take her to the walk-in medi-center across from the WalMart, and sit in a room with the sickest people on the face of the earth, people who were coughing up lungs and God knows what else all around us, and had the nerve to give me funny looks as I sat there with Skylar's blanket covering her whole head, a la Blanket Jackson  (only there were no balconies involved).  And she's so sick, and it's terrible, and she can barely hold her head up, and some stupid, stupid woman sitting a few seats down says "Oh, the poor thing.  Have you tried tylenol?"  Um, have you tried to be a dumbass or is it just happening? 

We waited for an hour and then I was given a bunch of papers to fill out.  I did the best I could while holding a screaming baby and shortly after that they called us to do the screening part where they ask why you are there.  I explained about the runny nose, and the coughing, and the crying, and the more crying, and the fever, so they checked her fever via armpit and it was 102.8.  This allowed us to jump to the very front of the line of almost dead people in the waiting room.  We got a room and from there it went downhill quickly.  

Her heart rate was 200 bpm, which is waaaay too high.  Her respirations were 42 per minute, which is waaaay too many.  And her oxygen levels were 94, which is a little too low.  Both her ears were red--double ear infection.  They wanted to do a breathing treatment.  They wanted to check her for RSV.  Skylar didn't like the bandaid on her toe counting the oxygen, Skylar didn't like the cotton swab they stuck up her nose to check for RSV.  And then they poured tylenol down her throat, waited 20 minutes and then stuck a thermometer up her booty--103.7.  Well, that really got them moving.  The RSV was negative.  Another swab up the nose for the flu test.  Which was positive.  And the fast heart rate, high respirations, etc?  Those were signs she was dehydrated.  So she needed to be admitted into the hospital.  

Problem?  Of course!  The people at the medi-center can't admit to the hospital.  Dr. Nance, the pediatrician on post won't admit to the hospital without seeing the kid first, and she was off today.  So they sent me to Dr. Acton, a pediatrician through the hospital.  They called him and told them I was coming.  I was to go straight there.  He would treat her for the ear infection and get her into the hospital.  Only when I got there I was told they no longer accept my insurance and wouldn't see me.  They sent me to the ER.

I got to the ER and waited for over an hour, all the time thinking the longer we sit and wait the more dehydrated she'll get and then her kidney's will start failing.  (Because that's what I do.  I prepare myself for the absolute worst, so I'm usually pleasantly surprised.  I have lots of gray hair, but I'm surprised and happy.)  When they finally screened us I gave them the paper from the medi-center and boy did those people start moving.  We were given a room right away and the doctor came right in.  He checked Skylar out and said she did not need to be admitted, as she was producing massive quantities of tears at the time which lead him to believe she was not dehydrated.  But she needed medicine for her ears, so she got a shot in her leg.  Bless her heart, her fever was finally starting to break and she was feeling a little better and a nurse comes in with Dora on her scrubs and Skylar immediately recognized Dora and pointed, smiled and said "Oooooh!"  And then the mean lady poked a needle in her leg, which has no doubt cemented pure hate in Skylar's heart towards Dora the Explorer.  

So let me tell you, as if all this wasn't bad enough, I get home and find Scott doing the laundry.  By himself.  Which means that he decided on all the color breakdowns on his own as well as the water temperatures.  Which shoots my nerves all the way to hell again.  And I knows it's bad when he empties the dryer and uses his body to physically shield the bushel from me so I can't see exactly what is in it.  

If Skylar's fever spikes again before Wednesday I'm to bring her back to the ER immediately.  She also has to see the doctor next week for a follow-up on her ears.  What a way to turn 1!.  I guess we won't celebrate her birthday tomorrow night unless she feels better, but I don't think she'll get past all this quite that quickly.  So we'll have to wait until the weekend, and hopefully she'll be better then. 

Oh, if you want to do something special for Skylar because it's her special day and she feels like crap, send her a balloon.  Skylar loves balloons.  She grabs the strings and yanks them around for hours.  Or you could send her Guitar Hero II with the guitar for the playstation.  She mentioned a while back that she's really wanting one of those.  Apparently she was talking with Sgt. Hines and he was telling her how great and grand it was and now she just won't shut up talking about it.  So...yeah...a balloon or Guitar Hero II...your call. 

Rescue Cat

Today after I picked up the girls from school we rescued a cat from an animal clinic. The cat was found in a parking lot, lying in the sun, trying desperately to pull itself into the shade using only his front two paws. The vet clinic nursed it back to health and over time he regained full use of his back legs. They told me that the first bowel movement he had after coming to the clinic was nothing but bug carcases, which just broke my heart. Since then he has been living at the clinic and no one has adopted it because he was over a year old and most people want kittens. Now he is somewhere around 18 months. But he has the sweetest disposition, they told me, and he loves to sit in your lap and be petted, and he loves all the kids that bring in their animals for check-ups and shots.

We already have a cat, Frosty, and he is the snobbiest cat on the face of the planet. As long as I give him a can of cat food every morning at 7:10am he doesn't give a rip whether I live or die. He won't sit with you, won't let you pet him, nothing. Very unpersonable. All Frosty will do is be a pain in your ass (and my mother swears he taunts her dogs when she comes to visit but I've never witnessed that so I don't know). He's also pretty, but he's so pretty you want to pet him, you want to love on him, and he's all ABSOLUTELY NOT. So the fact that this cat was essentially a lap cat was appealing.

Well, let me tell you, we've been home from the clinic for around 6 hours and this stupid cat won't even come out of the cat kennel. He's just sitting in there with the door open, eyes as wide as plates, thinking "What the hell did I do to deserve this madness?" I got him out and he sat with me on the couch for about an hour, and I was thrilled, but it was almost like he was holding his breath the entire time. I mean, he hates us. I called the clinic and they said cats take a while to adjust and if he wasn't better by Monday to bring him back.

And the cat heard me tell the kids if he wouldn't come out on his own and adapt by Monday we'd have to take him back, because I'm afraid he'll die of sadness or something, so he's in there just biding his time, waiting for Monday to come, and Skylar crawled all the way in the kennel with him, and then got stuck, and that further traumatized everybody. We have not named him yet, because no one can agree, and Owen won't discuss any names other than Lightning McQueen, and nobody else wants that name, so he doesn't want any of their names, and so on and so on and right now Skylar is attempting to climb on top of the kennel and I think this cat is going to have a heart attack.

He's super cute though, even though the back half of his body is shaved, not to the skin or anything, but it's definitely shorter than the front half, because it was all matted. It's growing out and should catch up soon. He's all black except for his nose and his feet, and no, we are not naming him Socks or Boots because Ashlyn doesn't like the name Socks or Boots, she likes the name Mittens, and I'm not naming the cat Mittens because all I'm doing is trying to give it a name, not make it gay. He also has big, pretty eyes which we've seen a lot of because he's afraid to blink around us. I want so badly to smother this cat with love and make it delirious with happiness, but I'm not really sure he's going to let me. I'm going to keep trying though, so hopefully by this weekend I'll have a cat to sit on my lap and purr and help me balance my margarita glass while we watch some football. Oh good grief, I'm just kidding! I don't watch football!

I told you she had bad hair

I mean, look at her hair! And she's not even scared!

First basketball game of 2008

Ashlyn had her first basketball game of the year on Saturday. She is on a new team this year with a new coach and is absolutely loving it. Last year's team was very rag-tag and the only thing the coach taught them was to pass the ball to her daughter. Also, some of the kids, due to the lack of coaching, thought that when they had the ball and the coach's daughter was not playing their only option was to shoot or stand cowered over surrounded by the other team. Last year was maddening for me, because I just think there are some parts of the game that are so elemental it should be easy to get kids to do them. Like, oh, I don't know, PASS THE BALL!

This year Ashlyn's coach is named Tom, and I'm not sure of his last name other than it's hard to say, especially with a drawl, so I'm not going to try. His granddaughter Taylor plays on the team, and last year she did not make a single basket all year long. Well, she made one Saturday. Yay Taylor! She was so excited she almost started crying. Well, it was either the excitement or she may have gotten hurt when all the girls mobbed her.

Coach Tom is a wonderful coach. He has taught them defense, which was never covered by last year's coach. In the YMCA league you cannot play defense until the ballhandler gets to half court, so he taught them how to break a half court press. He also stresses stopping the ball, because they play man-to-man, and the girls will let someone dribble right past them and shoot a lay-up because it's not their man. So he has shown them to stop the ball until help gets there and then you can go back to your man. Ashlyn is learning so much! They also have plays. Do they execute them? Well, no, but they have them if they are needed. Ashlyn plays shooting guard, like I did. And the other girls? They pass the ball. They love to pass the ball. They are the passingest group of people I've ever seen. So everybody gets a chance almost every time they have the ball.

So Saturday we went to the game and of course I sat right on the front row so I could take pictures and yell. I can't wait for her to get into an actual competitive league so I can yell at the referees to "my God get her off her back!" or "Get your head out of your ass and blow your freakin whistle!" Huh? What's that Ashlyn? I'm embarrassing you? Well, of course I'm embarrassing you, THAT'S WHY I CAME.

In the YMCA league they don't keep score on the scoreboard because they don't want to hurt anybody's feelings, which doesn't work because everybody just keeps it in their head. After the game I told Ashlyn I thought they had won and she immediately said "Oh, yeah, we won, 14-4." Last year she wouldn't have known that, and it tells me she's getting more competitive. And at one point she had the ball and a girl from the other team tried to slap it away from her and the look Ashlyn gave her almost killed her on the spot. I'm just sayin', nothing brings me joy like seeing little Ashlyn getting all fiesty over a basketball. I was so proud I nearly exploded.

I'm waiting for Zach and Cody to get arrested

"You haven't heard?  I can't believe it!  Hannah Montana has been using body doubles.  I just can't believe it.  I feel so let down."

"Well, you know she's just doing what her handlers tell her to do, so it's not really her fault."

"I know, but still...  I mean, first Britney let me down, and now it's Hannah.  If this keeps up I'm not going to have any heroes left."

"I know.  What are we going to do?"

(silence)

"God, We really need to get a life."

Trying a different angle

"Mama, can we get a llama?  We should get a llama.  I looove llamas!"

"NO!  We can not have a llama!  I'm sorry, but I just cannot buy a llama."

"Oh that's okay Mama.  You can just get me a hamster."

This doesn't tell me anything

Okay, so apparently there is one job for a captain in Tampa and that job has been offered to another guy.  But that other guy is trying to get a different special job in DC and if he is offered the DC job he will take that one and then the job in Tampa can be Scott's.  

No, I do not know the probability of the other guy getting offered the job in DC.  

No, I do not know when anybody in DC will decide whether or not they are offering the other guy the special job.

Yes, I am a fountain of useless information, so any further questions should probably not be directed at me.    

My talk about the birds and bees

Yesterday I took Ashlyn to the eye doctor to get some contacts.  Yes, she is a little on the youngish side for contacts, but her eyes are getting worse very very quickly and the eye doctor thinks that contacts is the best way to slow it down.  So we got some toric lenses, for her astigmatism and whatnot, and I paid out of pocket because I am the only person in America that Tricare doesn't seem to work for.  It seems their system was down so they couldn't verify something they needed to verify and my referral wasn't good enough, it only works for all the other people who get them and blah blah blah kiss my ass, here's your stupid $200.  While we were waiting Ashlyn was reading People magazine.

"Mama, look!"  And she shows me a picture with the caption:  Jamie Lynn Spears Pregnant at 16

I have been very careful to shield this little tidbit of info from Ashlyn, as she is more of a thinker than Haley, and I knew there would be questions.  She watches Zoey 101 though (and boy is that show unrealistic), so she knew immediately who it was.  

"How do you get pregnant when you are 16?"

"Uh, the same way you get pregnant when you are 30."

"Well, how's that?"

"How about I tell you when you are 30?"

"You said you get married and then God gives you a baby.  Is she married?"

"No, she's not married."

"So how did she get pregnant?"

"Uh...Hey!!  Are you excited about getting contacts or what?"

Why I'm never, ever bored

"Mama, here's a phone number for you."

"Haley, what is this number for?"

"Greenbags."

"What?"

"Greenbags. They have them on tv. You buy them to put your fruits and vegetables in. And you know what? If your fruits and vegetables usually go bad quickly in your fridge these bags can make them last up to 9 days."

"Wow."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. They said 9 days and I was all like, 9 whole days? I need to get that number!  Oh, and I also got the number for this bag that holds everything!  And it's all so easy to find!  You'll never have to dig for your cell phone again!"

Electrical outlet not necessary

Skylar's hair situation is getting progressively worse.
She gets it from Scott, you know. I mean, my hair is straight.

4-Wheelin'

This year Owen wanted Santa to bring him a Power Wheels. It was all he asked for besides a tattoo (I don't even have the strength to address that one), and the week before Christmas I got all nervous that WalMart might be all sold out of the blue 4-wheeler that Owen wanted more than life itself, and where oh where in the world was Santa going to get one, because who knew if there was sufficient time to get to Abilene and even if there was, WOULD THEY HAVE THEM THERE? WHAT WOULD WE DO IF SANTA COULD NOT FIND A BLUE 4-WHEELER POWER WHEELS? But by gosh Santa came through, and I'm glad, because I haven't been this nervous about a Santa related item since the whole mermaid fiasco back in Hawaii, when I thought Santa or Mrs. Claus one was going to have to get into a knock down drag out over a baby doll that could get in the bathtub with Ashlyn.

Our Christmas Slideshow

Here are some of the pictures that were taken over Christmas.

(note: If you sent a gift to us and you do not see it represented in a picture, please do not be offended. We got your gift, we opened your gift, and we really really appreciate your gift because it's one less thing I have to buy these selfish, selfish children.)

Merry Ho Ho Ho to You

Our picture with Santa at the mall:

If you don't buy the 5x7 for 12.99(!) that the elves offer you have three shots with your own camera. This picture was, believe it or not, the first one in our series. You'd have thought that I could have managed a better one than this, what with three tries, but my God do you know how quickly it can all go to pot when you have four kids crammed around Santa and then one of them realizes that THE SCARIEST MAN ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH is holding her?

Merry Freakin Christmas

Today I went shopping with some gift cards that Scott's mom and younger brother sent for the kids.  I wanted them to have presents to open instead of just the cards so I decided to brave the mad rush of people and go to the mall.  After spending about five minutes in Old Navy I decided that it's impossible for me to get into "holiday spirit" mode when I have to shop surrounded by freakin morons.  

It's bad enough to deal with all the people standing around with buggies blocking the racks of clothes, but then you have to be accosted by over-eager sales associates who don't seem to have any tack.

"What size do you need?"

"12-18 months"

"Oh!  How old is your baby?"

"11 months today"

"Then are you sure you need to 12-18 month size instead of the 6-12 month size?  I mean, is your baby fat or something?"

"Are you in any way related to someone named Valerie?" ***

"What?"

And on and on it went, me pushing past people who didn't seem to be shopping, instead they were just visiting with friends they happened to run into at the mall, right in front of all the racks of clothes I wanted to look at.  The lines were ridiculous, but to fully appreciate my day you have to add that on to the fact that there were 72 mph wind gusts out here in West Texas today and when I walked out of the Dollar Store with my wrapping paper I blew over right in the middle of the parking lot.  

It all culminated in Sears, when, while I was waiting in line, I got into a screaming fight with some stupid punk teenager.  I won't bore you with all the details but it started with some jackass punk teenage boy making a huge scene accusing the two girls in line in front of me of staring at his girlfriend (by the way, if my girls EVER try to leave the house looking like this guy's girlfriend looked I will totally beat their ass) and it ended with me screaming this:

"SO WHAT if they were staring?  If it bothers you that badly I'll keep my fingers crossed really tight that maybe one day they'll make staring illegal and then you can SUE THEM!  But until that day comes SHUT UP FOR GOD'S SAKE!"  

After that I decided I should probably just call it a day... 

***inside joke 

How to eat a PopTart

By Skylar Starr

Break into smallish pieces. Pat thoroughly into carpet.













Pick up smallish pieces. Attempt to pick off carpet fuzz. Decide it doesn't really matter about the carpet fuzz.













Spread out, relax, and enjoy!

Happy Birthday to Pops!!!

Let's all have a drink or two...or ten

"What in the world have you been doing?  Why do you have black stuff all over you?  What is that black stuff?"

"Mama, how is Santa going to get in the chimney?  Because I was just in the fireplace and I looked up and I didn't see any sky."

Skylar's new favorite game

(it is best to play this game after Mommy has had a long day)

1.  try very hard, as hard as you possibly can, to get to something you are not supposed to have*

2.  attempt to crawl away from Mommy while holding the forbidden object while trying to cram it into your mouth

3.  when Mommy takes it away, fling yourself face down on the floor and scream your freaking head off

4.  when Mommy offers you some dumb stupid baby toy to play with instead, throw it at her head, give her the "evil-eye" and scream your freaking head off**

5.  when Mommy tries to stand you at the coffee table to play with some dumb stupid baby toy pretend you are a wet noodle and throw your head around and kick Mommy, then scream your freakin head off

6  when Mommy picks you up, throw up on her

*the best things are electrical cords, pencils or other writing instruments, the remote for the tv, or cat food

**do NOT treat car keys as an acceptable replacement toy.  while these are fun to play with, the novelty quickly wears off once Mommy removes the part with the BRIGHT! RED! panic button and you can no longer start the continuous horn honking by pushing said button

Car Version of the Game:

1.  sit in your carseat and scream your freaking head off

2.  take whatever Mommy hands you and (this is the key, pay attention!) do NOT throw it at her head or to any area of the car she can reach while driving.  instead, throw it to some remote part of the backseat, preferably by the door.  scream your freaking head off

3.  Mommy will quickly run out of things to hand you.  continue to scream your freaking head off.  

4.  Mommy will turn the radio up.  Scream louder.

5.  Mommy will stop the car and try to get you out.  However, when she opens the door all the shit you've thrown beside the door will fall out on the ground, and Mommy will have to pick it all up, and sometimes she will have to crawl under the car if you are lucky and the pacifier bounces correctly.  This will allow some extra time for you to continue to scream your freaking head off.

6.  the minute you get inside your destination, preferably a store of some type, throw up on Mommy.  

7.  sit in the buggy politely and smile and wave at all the passerbys and the cashier, prompting them to say what a good, sweet baby you are.

8.  upon returning to the car, see #1.

Why I'm against deductive reasoning

"Mom, Kadasia said that Santa Claus isn't real. She said it's your parents."

"Well, what do you think?"

"Ummm...I...(laughs nervously) IS IT YOU?"

"Ashlyn, come on! If there was no such thing as Santa then why would everybody go through so much trouble to make you think he's real? Why would everybody make it such a big deal? Why would all those people dress up like Santa at the mall and let kids crawl all over them?"

(thinking hard) "Maybe they're retired and need extra spending money."

The pediatric cardiologist

Today Skylar had her appointment with the pediatric cardiologist. You may be wondering why I didn't mention it beforehand and it's simply because I didn't want to worry everybody until there was something definite to worry about. Six months ago if I had said "Oh, by the way, Skylar has to see a pediatric cardiologist" everyone would have started calling asking questions and I wouldn't have had any real answers until after the appointment anyway, so I didn't tell anybody. It's not me keeping information from you, it's me being extra considerate and not causing you extra worry.


So anyway, the appointment was daunting, to say the least. They did an EKG with all the stickers and cords which surprisingly Skylar did not appreciate. And of course it totally freaked Owen out and from that point on he became a giant pain in the butt asking over and over again if I would please get Skylar's clothes on her so we could leave. Then there was blood pressure checks on both arms and both legs. When she was weighed they wouldn't even let her have on a diaper, so that was the best part for Skylar by far because she was NEKKID, and to her there's no better way to live. She weighs 20 lbs, 12 oz in her birthday suit and she is 30 inches long. All of these tests were done in one room, then when we were finished we moved to another room.


Dr. Zamora came in and listened to her chest and took some notes and then said he was going to do an ultrasound, so we moved to another room. Skylar didn't much care for the ultrasound either, and it took a while, probably about 15 minutes or so, and I was running out of things to do to entertain her and right when she began to lose her mind on my 20th rendition of "This little piggy" it was over.


The doctor said that her heart was normal, that the murmur was what they termed an "innocent murmur" and in no way degenerative. The clicking sound her heart was making is fine too, as all the valves are opening and closing normally and in normal rhythm. The sides of her heart are all normal and of normal thickness with no holes or leaks. He actually didn't hear the click, but Skylar was at the doctor yesterday and that doctor did hear it, but only faintly. So basically over the course of her life the click started out loud and has gradually diminished, which is exactly what you want to happen. They were all worried at first about her heart valves sticking or moving too fast or too slow and they were throwing all sorts of big words around that I didn't understand, but now we know it's all working perfectly.


We don't have any follow-up appointments and she does not need any additional care. Oh, and if anyone out there needs to decide on what to be when they grow up, I would say a pediatric cardiologist is a good choice. Dr. Zamora had on a Dolce and Gabbana suit with a Rolex watch. And I was afraid to even look at his shoes.

A lesson in being modest

"Who did you play with at preschool today?"

"Maleek, Noah, Ashley-"

"Ashley? A girl?"

"Yeah, but she's not my girlfriend!"

"She's not?  Are you sure?"

"Yeah!"

"But I bet she likes you though, huh?"

"Yeah."

"Why do you think she likes you?"

"Well, because I'm so good looking!"

Preparation

Perhaps we all need to prepare ourselves for the very real possibility of us moving back to Alaska.

O Christmas Tree

You come into my home with this BIG FREAKING SPIDER on you? Are you serious? A spider the size of a quarter that, when squished with Ashlyn's shoe, produced roughly 1/4 cup of grayish slime? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Much pleasure thou can'st give me? There's only splendor for the sight? My ASS!

Wordless Wednesday

Happy Birthday Arden!

We miss you!

Wedding Dance

Amy and Brian Lemaster have obviously been posting old video of themselves on youtube....


--thanks lucinda

My Favorite Holiday Cookie Recipe

TEQUILA COOKIES

1 cup of dark brown sugar
1 cup (2 sticks) butter
1 cup of granulated sugar
4 large eggs
2 cups of dried fruit, such as dried cranberries or raisins
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1 tsp fresh lemon juice
1 cup coarsely chopped walnuts or pecans
2 cups all-purpose flour
1 bottle Jose Cuervo Tequila (silver or gold, as desired)

Sample the Cuervo to check quality.

Take a large bowl, check the Cuervo again, to be sure it is of the highest quality, pour one level cup and drink. Turn on the electric mixer. Beat one cup of butter in a large fluffy bowl.

Add one teaspoon of sugar. Beat again. At this point it's best to make sure the Cuervo is still OK, try another cup just in case.

Turn off the mixerer thingy. Break 2 leggs and add to the bowl and chuck in the cup of dried fruit. Pick the frigging fruit off floor.

Mix on the turner. If the fried druit gets stuck in the beaterers just pry it loose with a drewscriver.

Sample the Cuervo to check for tonsisticity.

Next, sift two cups of salt, or something. Check the Jose Cuervo.

Now shift the lemon juice and strain your nuts. Add one table. Add a spoon of sugar, or somefink. Whatever you can find.

Grease the oven. Turn the cake tin 360 degrees and try not to fall over. Don't forget to beat off the turner.

Finally, throw the bowl through the window, finish the Cose Juervo and make sure to put the stove in the dishwasher.


**** CHERRY MISTMAS ****

--thanks Katie

T-minus 6 months

Scott's change of command will be between June 7th and June 17th, 2008. The Army Ball is on the 7th, and they won't let us leave before that, because let's face it, I'm the life of the party at the Army Ball, and the Colonel changes command on the 17th, so ours is inbetween those two dates.

Other than that we have no plan. No assignment. No orders. Nothing. He wanted to go to Tampa, but it turns out there's only 1 slot for a Captain there and it may not even be open. Yesterday he printed off a list of the available jobs for Captains and let me tell you, it's bad. The majority of the list is unaccompanied tours in Kuwait, which is a nice way of saying Iraq. There are some in Hawaii, but the schools are bad there so we don't want to go back with school age kids. There are 3 or so in Germany and some in Istanbul, Turkey, but after watching what Amber went through to get to Italy, um, No. Then you've got New York, D.C., California, Washington state, Alaska, a bunch in Korea, and it just gets even worse from there.

I'm about ready to say aw, screw it, let's go overseas to Germany, because nothing on the list is going to make my family happy and we have no control over the list, so if people are going to be mad at us for living far away we might as well go as far as possible. With the selection this poor, it's going to have to be just about what's best for his career, I guess, instead of where we want to live, so we'll see. But again, it's pretty bad. I could not believe there was not one single slot to Ft. Bragg, NC. I'm trying to think back to when you didn't get to choose, you were just handed an assignment and if you didn't like it, well, it was just too bad, you sucked it up and went anyway.

Somehow that's not making me feel any better.

A what?

Yesterday Owen got on the phone with my mother and told her for Christmas he wanted a Power Wheels and another tattoo, and he wanted this one to look just like Haley's.

And I don't think I need to tell you what happened next.

Haley turns 7

Today is Haley's birthday. She is 7 years old.

Yesterday she got a card in the mail from someone in our family congratulating her on turning 5. So we had a conversation that went like this:

"Five? Why does it say five? I'm not five, I'm seven. I'm not even close to five. I'm in first grade. Why do they think I'm five?"

"Haley, look, they just don't know. They don't see us often enough and, well, there's a lot of you kids around here and it's hard for people to remember. But listen, at least they remembered to send a card. At least they sent something! Isn't something better than nothing?"

"Well.....I guess so. But I still don't.....look, they even circled the number! And I'm NOT five!! And I bet on the inside it says.....HEY! TEN DOLLARS! WOOHOO!"

Hair Bow-nanza

Izzy Pack has a lot of hair.  A. Lot. Of. Hair.  So I thought I'd make her some hair bows and send them out to Arizona to her.  
And, you know, I just don't think Jin understood what I meant...

Friday's Feast, 30 November 2007

Appetizer
What is your favorite carnival/amusement park ride?

The roller coaster.  I love roller coasters, and this love has been passed down to both Ashlyn and Haley, who can't get enough of them.  Of course, they probably got it from Scott.

Soup
How do you react in uncomfortable social situations?

The first thing I do is try to find someone else who is as uncomfortable as I am and then I discreetly make sure they are uncomfortable for all the same reasons.  Then we stand off to the side and make inappropriate comments about whatever is happening.  Then I blog about it.  If no one else is uncomfortable then I just excuse myself and go off to the bar.  Ha Ha!

Salad
On a scale of 1-10 with 10 being highest, how much do you enjoy discussing deep, philosophical topics?

1.  And to prove it, that's all I'm going to say about it.

Main Course
Did you get a flu shot this year? If not, do you plan to?

No, I did not get the flu shot this year, nor did I get it last year or the year before that.  It's just not something we do.  My kids have only gotten it once, and that was back when I believed everything doctors told me.  

Dessert
Approximately how many hours per week do you spend watching television?

I don't watch tv in real time.  Once you get a tivo machine you start to believe that you are just too good for that sort of thing and no way will you ever again waste your time watching commercials.  So to answer the question, I watch lots of shows, but no commercials, so I can't figure out the total amount of time it takes to watch them.  My tivo list is extensive; it currently includes the following:

Extreme Makeover Home Edition

Desperate Housewives

Brothers and Sisters

Heroes

The Biggest Loser

Private Practice

Real Housewives of the OC

Gray's Anatomy

Frank TV

The Next Great American Band

UFC

Pimp My Ride

Hip Hop Harry 

And let me take just a moment and say that Hip Hop Harry is by far my favorite show.  I don't know if any of you watch it, but it comes on Discovery Kids at 9am and noon here.  It's a giant bear and he raps and the little kids hip hop dance and it's totally geared towards people who are, um, not me, but I love it and even better Skylar loves it.  The bear starts yelling "Hip Hop" and the kids yell "Harry!" and Skylar's little head whips around and she just starts dancing like a fool.  I'm trying to teach her to wave her arms in the air when they do that part.  Tina, you would be sooo proud!  No, we never, ever, miss Hip Hop Harry.  Oh, and I know the time on that one.  30 minutes.  It's 30 straight minutes of rump shaking, break dancing, arm waving, and rapping by the cutest little future Britneys and Kevins that you've ever laid eyes on.  And they teach stuff too.  The first time I saw it I was so amazed I couldn't look away and afterwards I couldn't remember if they teach anything or not, but as I've continued to watch it I've been able to focus a little more and I've come to realize that while it's certainly convenient that "Harry" rhymes with "library", this show teaches that just about any two words rhyme if you say them fast enough.  So yeah, it's entertaining AND informational.  What more could you want for your 10 month old?  

My Hero!

Last night in Chattanooga there was a multi-car accident.  There was an 18 month old child ejected from one of the cars, and the driver of the car, a male, picked up the child and attempted to leave the scene.  A nurse from Erlanger Medical Center was on her way home, heard that a child had been injured, and stopped to help.  

She saw the man leaving with the child and approached him and tried to communicate, but he didn't speak English.  So she used hand motions to try to get him to understand and try to get him to put down the baby.  At first he refused, but she persisted and stayed with him until the paramedics got there, at which point he handed over the child.

It turns out that the man had kidnapped the child!  I don't know if they know why, but I've heard that it could have been a drugs/ransom type thing, but that could be a rumor.  So I guess the guy was trying to get away from the scene with the child before he was caught.  Who knows what would have happened to the baby if he had succeeded.  

And here's the kicker.  The nurse was none other than Kendall, my cousin Adam's girlfriend!  I've known Kendall for years, and she is such a great person, and this just proves it!  My girls love her to death, and on top of being a great nurse, she trained as a masseuse too and gives great massages.  I can't say enough good things about Kendall, and what Adam's waiting for, I don't know, but I'm fixing to call him and see when he's going to make an honest woman out of her.  I'm sure he'll appreciate that!  

Thank God for people like Kendall, who react the way we all hope we would react if a crises occurred.  She is an angel, plain and simple.

Overheard (loudly) in the bathroom at Burger King

"Owen, it's very dirty in here, so we're going to just stand up and peepee, okay?  Don't touch anything."

"But Mommy!  Is it okay for me to touch my tallywhacker?"

(I swear, I am this close to just giving up.)

Show-off

Recently there has been a resurgence in mega bloks around here. I'm telling you, we love the mega bloks. Not to be confused with legos, mega bloks are bigger and Skylar cannot swallow them, try as she might. So we had 450 mega bloks, which I see I wrongly identified as legos in my previous post about them. We still have all 450; I know this because periodically I count them, hoping to prove a point "See! You do not keep up with your stuff! No way am I buying you a pony!" but somehow they have managed to keep up with every single one of them. Their shoes? Not so much. But the mega bloks? You can bet your ass they're all still in the box.

Now it seems we are in the middle of a mega block frenzy and WE DO NOT HAVE ENOUGH MEGA BLOKS. 150 apiece is just not enough to build anything worthwhile, and of course Scott has to build too, and this leads to the whining that I am so adamently against. Monday morning there was an unfortunate accident involving (and I'm trying to be really strong here and talk about it) the top and bottom of one of Scott's uniforms, an ink pen, and *sniff* my dryer. And oh, there was yelling, and lots and lots of bad words, and more yelling, and we almost lost the dryer. Thankfully she pulled through, but sadly, Scott's best back-up uniform did not make it. Owen and I went on post to buy another one, which they did not have, so we went to the BX and found more mega bloks. 180 more, to bring us to a grand total of 630.

We brought them home and opened the box and to our absolute! delight! found that this box not only had the red, blue and yellow bloks, but purple and two shades of green. The girls came home from school and they all sat down to play and you know what? WE DO NOT HAVE ENOUGH MEGA BLOKS. No, no, no, with the addition of the new mega bloks doors of opportunity are practically blowing off their hinges and no one wants to share. So I took away the mega bloks, and the whining commenced, and then, then I got a migraine. I get probably two migraines a month. Yes, I should probably see a doctor, but, oh, let's not get started on the quality of our health care here at Goodfellow AirForce Base. So, in an effort to attain quiet, I put Shrek the Third on repeat play and that seemed to work.

Tuesday I went shopping on ebay. So any day now 425 additional mega bloks should arrive at my house, which means we will have 1055.

And we had a contest (before the addition of the green and purple bloks), and there had to be a winner, because we live with Scott, and what's the point of playing if we don't vote on a winner, so Ashlyn was the judge because I can't be the judge since I always vote for Owen. But in my defense, it's hard not to vote for him because, well, have you seen the kid? He's just about the cutest thing ever, and he has these huge brown eyes, and he comes up and gives you that look that he learned from the cat in Shrek and says "I made you Mommy, don't you like it?" and of course I vote for him. Plus, he gets sooo excited when he wins and it makes him like me more.

So Ashlyn judged and Scott, Haley, and Owen all made something and I took pictures:

Owen's entry was a building with a fence, but he said if you tilt your head a little bit it looks like me.

Haley made a palm tree.

Scott, clearly overestimating the level of ability in his competitors, made a duck.

I think I forgot the question

"Hey Mama, do you know what really pisses Mrs. Owens off?"

(me choking on my taco salad)

"When it's cold outside and people wear short sleeves and no coat.  It messes up recess for us.  Yeah...that really pisses Mrs. Owens off."

Because how you poop defines you

"Did Skylar poop?"

"Yeah, she did, I'm changing it."

"Can I see it?"

"Owen, why do you want to see her poop?"

"I just want to look and--HEY!  that's not baby poop!  That's poop balls.  That's like my poop."

"Well, I guess."

"That's like people poop!  Why is she pooping like that?"

"Uh..."

"You know, I think she must be turning into a real live person!"

Friday's Feast, 23 November 2007

Appetizer
What was your first “real” job?

I worked at Belk in the mall while I was going to JUCO.  If you don't count all the hours and hours I spent vacuuming the stupid swimming pool.  

Soup
Where would you go if you wanted to spark your creativity?

Hobby Lobby.  Or a closet.  I get all creative and organizational whenever I go into a closet.  Any kind of closet.  It doesn't matter.  I think if we had a Container Store I would work there, and when I grow up I want to be a Professional Space Planner.  Well, either that or I want drive 18-Wheelers with Scott and one day be on Trick My Truck.  I haven't fully decided yet.  I figure whatever I choose will probably involve more school though, and I hate school, but I think my college degree might have expired by now.  

Salad
Complete this sentence: I am embarrassed when…

...ever I take my kids to the post office.  What is it about the post office that makes my kids act like retards?  Every single freakin time.  Somebody please help me out with this one because for the life of me I HAVE NO IDEA.

Main Course
What values did your parents instill in you?

Never quit.  Be honest.  Maybe I should stop so I don't get all teary.

Dessert
Name 3 fads from your teenage years.

big hair (which I hope catches back on one day)

Sebegos (and holy crap they still make them, in lots of styles and colors!)

tight rolling your jeans (and if your feet were numb you knew you were doing it right)

Not a fan, will never be a fan

My mother took me to the mall today shopping for the kids' Christmas presents.  I spent the majority of my time hiding out in the shoe department of JCPenney's fearing for my life.  I honestly do not understand how people can possibly enjoy going out on a day like today and fighting the crowds, just to save an extra 10% off a pair of $20 jeans.

Tonight we were watching the news and they were showing video taken this morning at Target.  It was a special report about just how much you can save by going out and getting run over by shopping buggies.  There was a girl in line paying for some item, I don't know what it was, but the reporter asked her how much money she was saving by being in line at 3am.  And this was her answer:

"Oh, gosh, this was only $80, and it's regularly $120.  So I'm saving, like, $60 or $70!  It's TOTALLY WORTH IT!"

People!  So this is why this shopping day is so appealing to so many of you?  Because you can't subtract?  And I bet her friends and family saw her on the news and called her and were all like "No, no, no, $120 minus $80 is $40, you saved $40."  

I wonder if it's still totally worth it after you look like a jackass on the local news?

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you and eat some turkey and all that blah blah blah. Today Scott dressed up in his bus driver suit and went to feed the soldiers up at the chow hall. On his end of the serving line was his 1st Sgt, Brian, and the Colonel, Col Chester. Also there was Sgt Maj Sanchez but we don't count him when we think of fun and fancy free. I'm told that people came down their serving line not for the food but for the entertainment value alone. Plus Scott managed to not get anything on his coat while cutting turkey, so that's worth mentioning.

My mom flew in on Saturday. She landed about 1:15 and we made it back to the house by 1:45. By 2:15 she had all 4 kids at the park, so I took a nap. On Sunday she got up and took all 4 kids back to the park, so I took a nap. On Monday at 9:30am she packed all 4 kids in the car and went to WalMart, stayed gone 2 1/2 hours, and I took a nap. And if you think you might spot a pattern here, you would be correct.

Tuesday my dad drove in and he got here about 10pm. With both dogs. Ashlyn, Haley and Owen immediately started climbing all over him like crazy because they didn't see how he could possibly be tired since he'd "been sitting down all day long." Skylar shunned Pops, thereby solidifying her place right alongside Mary Kate on the list titled People Who Will Receive No Inheritance From Pops.

Wednesday night during a wrestling session involving 3 kids and one older man who may never fully recover from this trip Skylar decided that all the laughing must mean that it was fun, not scary and she might want deep down to play too. She crawled over with a delighted look on her face and attempted to grab Pops' shirt but right at that moment Pops jumped up because he didn't see her and Skylar fell over flat on her back. She screamed and cried huge tears and everyone yelled at Pops, especially Nana.

Today we cooked Thanksgiving dinner but Nana and I had to make a quick trip to WalMart because there was something wrong with my sage so we needed new sage and we would have been back much sooner but I got caught helping a man that you could honestly say was older than dirt on the medicine aisle. And no, it wasn't that he needed a certain cold medicine or some tylenol on the top shelf. Nope. He needed diarrhea medicine. A little green pill, he said. And people, do you know how many different types of diarrhea medicine WalMart sells? 18. I know this because I had to read the label on every single one to this old man, who eventually settled on the Equate brand, which did not come in little green pill form, but he was convinced nonetheless that when he opened the bottle the pills would be green. It's amazing what we will suffer through just because Santa is watching.

So that's our weekly recap, the abridged version.

Tomorrow we are going shopping. Not the crack of dawn, crazy possessed, knock down drag out over Wiis or lite brites shopping, but the leisurely, after lunch we might go to the mall shopping. This will be like facing my worst fear-the crowds, the shoving, the crowds... This is the first Friday After Thanksgiving shopping I will be participating in since we lived in Hawaii. We are not taking any children with us so that means no strollers so that means I have a good chance of getting through it without having a breakdown like I did that one time in the bathroom of the Pearl Harbor Naval Exchange Mall. But I just don't feel confident enough about it to promise.

Friday's Feast, 15 November 2007

Appetizer
Which snack do you like to get when you go to the movies?

I do not go to the movies.  I hate the movies.  

Soup
What year did you start using the internet?

1999

Salad
What is your first name in Pig Latin? (Here’s how to speak it if you don’t already know!)

Enniferjay

Main Course
Name something you are picky about.

It pisses me off to no end when people put clothes into the laundry inside out.  It's the little things, people.  The LITTLE THINGS.

Dessert
Fill in the blanks: I ____ ____ yesterday and I ____ ____ today.

ate italian

ate chinese

So that makes me older than...uh...dirt

Yesterday afternoon the girls and I went antiquing.

"Mama!  This stuff looks really really old!"

"Yeah, some of it is pretty old."

"Wow.  I mean, this stuff looks like it came from the 80s!"

The Dare

Last night Scott dared me that I couldn't run from the bathroom across our bedroom, jump over the cedar chest, and do a front flip over the footboard of the bed. (I mean, he's coming up with crap like this all the time, though usually it's directed at the kids, like "I bet you can't jump from the roof to the trampoline and then do a double-flip off the bounce and land in the swimming pool. Here, let me lift you up to the roof!" And the kids all try and then we have to go to the emergency room and lie to child services and whatnot about what really happened.) Of course he did it on the first try and it really looked easy, so I'm all "I can SO do that!" and he's all "Well let's see it big mouth!" What transpired next brought a few things to my attention:
1. I am old.
2. I am not limber.
3. I think I may have injured my shoulder.

Had the dare not involved the cedar chest I'm pretty sure I could have done it on the first try. But having to jump and clear the cedar chest and the footboard, which is made of iron bars, at the same time is tough, let me tell you. Not only do you need the height, you also need the distance. Basically you had to dive over the cedar chest, catch the footboard with your hands, and use your upper body strength to keep your head from banging into the iron bars while you tuck your legs and flip your body over. You also have to account for the ceiling fan, which was on medium speed at the time and hangs right over where you are flipping.

AND I SO DID IT! I'm not going to say how many tries it took me to do it though. I will only say it was double digits. Of course I wasn't going to give up until I did it, because the whole time Scott was saying how there was just no way in heck I would ever make it. Then Scott's all "Now do it with no hands!" and of course he does it on his first freakin try. I think it may be the new thing we do at all our parties.

I feel like a total bad ass. And Scott really didn't think I could do it, so he was highly impressed.

But good grief, my shoulder hurts like a mother.

Field Trip #2

Today Owen was scheduled to go on the second field trip of his short preschool career. The plan was to put all the 3 year olds on a bus and drive over to Fort Concho, where I'm betting not one single kid would understand what the heck anybody was talking about. However, without a doubt those people over at the "3 Rs Ranch" on Goodfellow AFB are striving for excellence, and totally believed the kids would fall in love with the whole historic experience. Owen did not fully comprehend where exactly they were going, and I would bet the farm if he had he would have refused to get on the bus, given what happened the last time we went to Fort Concho.

The bus carrying all the 3 year olds made it all the way off post before it broke down.

Somehow they got it started again and got to "you know, that place where they keep the buses, to try to switch to another one." That little gem of information came straight from Owen's teacher, word for word. I don't know why she didn't know the actual name of the place where they keep the buses, since there was probably a sign or two there, but before I could really wrap my head around the fact that Owen's teacher was so oblivious that she wasn't completely sure of where she was she told me that while they were "looking for another bus" the kids all went inside the place with no name and "watched cartoons on the little tv they had." At that point I really started to feel like I needed to count backwards from, oh, one thousand or so, while the level of stress in my body returned to a managable level and my eyesight fully returned.

It turns out they couldn't get another bus, so they put the kids back on the one that had just broken down and made it back to the preschool without further incident.

The good news is all the kids thought they went on a field trip to some place to watch cartoons.

And they absolutely loved it.

The Conference

Yesterday up at that drama pit of an elementary school where my kids attend there was an incident that indirectly involved Haley so now tomorrow I have to go up and talk to the principal about it. Let's face it, before Haley was 2 we all knew this day would come; even my mother told me I'd better just get a parking spot right by the front door, because I'd be up there all the time sorting out her messes. This feeling was further enforced the first day of preschool when Haley was only 3 years old and she punched a little boy because "he tried to stand in my spot."

This time, however, I am proud to say that Haley has not done anything wrong. But now I've got my fur all up and I've got an appointment for tomorrow afternoon. And the principal...well, this is going to sound bad, really bad, so I'm just going to go ahead with it, because right now I'm a little ticked so I don't feel as badly about saying it. The principal is a total babe. Right down to her 5 inch heels, extra short skirts, bleached hair and mile long red fingernails. For the entire first year Ashlyn went to school there I was confused as to why they allowed a stripper to run around on the campus. I am not joking, she could so easily be the "exotic dancer" at Da Club down the street from my house where all of Scott's underage soldiers who are not supposed to be traveling off base at any time go to get drunk. And her name is Cheri for God's sake.

I feel really bad, because I'm such a superficial ass to look at her and have a hard time with the fact that she is the principal, but I do. So I've got to go spend an hour with her (and Owen and Skylar) and try to have a serious conversation with her, all the while knowing that her whole life people have probably not been able to get past her looks and gee that must have been tough while at the same time thinking how life is just not fair for all us ugly folk. Also, if you don't want to be viewed as Hooker Barbie, then don't dress like her.

Anyway, I have several things I would like to discuss with her, which include but are not limited to:

1. It's become painfully obvious in the last few weeks that the first graders up at that school need a little more supervision than they are currently receiving.

2. I need a little clarification on what is and is not an appropriate way to spend the school day. I feel like there needs to be more focus on teaching and less focus on petty issues that are always going to come up when you are surrounded by 6 year olds.

3. I do not appreciate the use of scare tactics by another individual on my kid. As her mother, I can parent her however the heck I want to, but as a teacher you should be held to a little higher standard than that. Threats? Really?

4. As a teacher, don't lie to my kid. Also, don't lie to my kid and expect her not to lie back.

There is also a small issue at preschool with Owen, because they have the long ropes with the rings hanging on them that they use for walks and Owen apparently refuses to hold a ring and just walks whichever way he feels like walking. But that's for another day. I'm pacing myself. Hell, it's 38 degrees here in the mornings and I can't get the boy to put on a coat. Do you really think I can make him hold some plastic ring when I'm not even there? Because if you do then you are really really overestimating my super powers.

Brutal

"What did you have for lunch today at preschool?"

"Chicken!"

"Did you eat it?"

"Yeah."

"Was it good?"

"Yeah!"

"Was it better than mommy's chicken?"

"Oh, yeah!"

"Owen!  You hurt my feelings!  You're supposed to say that mommy's chicken is the best chicken."

"But mommy....that's lying."

The Passing of Time

It seems like forever ago and it seems like it was only yesterday at the same time.  In reality, it's been two years today.  Though looking back, if you consider the way the cancer ravaged her body, leaving her so utterly...unable, unable to sit up, unable to walk, unable to allow someone to carry her to the car and drive her to chemo, if you consider that, it's been longer than two years.  However long it's been since she's been gone, today is the date that will always stick in my mind.  

I've been aware this day was approaching for a while, but at the same time I was so afraid I would miss it.  That I would wake up and it would be the 6th, and I would have passed through today without a thought of her.  Maybe that would have been better.  

The end came quickly and quietly, with a doctor somewhere offering up some number of days, some arbitrary amount of time, information that no one wanted to hear or accept.  In reality, it came much quicker than expected, a beautiful frail lady surrounded by friends and family who never wanted to have to see such things, but watching anyway until her last shallow breath faded away.  I was not in that room;  I was several thousand miles away, across the country, celebrating at an early birthday party for Haley.  Later, my father would apologize for calling with the news during such a happy time.  But isn't that the way it should have been?  In my mind it was just another testament to the fact that life goes on.  That you can lose someone, but you still have so many more someone's in your life to be thankful for.  

Two days later I flew on a plane to her funeral.  I wore a bracelet she gave me the Christmas 11 months earlier, three months before the diagnosis, three months before she was even the least little bit sick.  It was a heavy silver Brighton bracelet, and before each leg of the flight it set off the metal detectors.  Finally, some airport security woman told me I should probably take it off and put it in my carry-on.  And I laid into her with everything I had.   How dare she tell me on the way to a funeral to take of a bracelet given to me by the very person who had died?  I didn't take the bracelet off until after the funeral.  But I haven't worn it since.    

          

So much has happened in these two years since she passed.  We shared the same birthday, and I had another one without her.  Babies that we never planned on were born, babies that we never thought would happen are happening, marriages that leave me so confused I don't know what to say about them were made, divorces of friends, and more sickness and death.  In other words, life has continued, however mundane, however exciting. 

My husband commands a company in which he is responsible for just over 400 people.  In the year and a half since he started this job I have seen a lot.  I have seen liars, cheaters, thieves, people whose characters are so questionable and bad all you can do is shake your head and count the days until you never have to see them or deal with them again.  That was never the case with her.  Though she was far from perfect she was someone everyone would have benefited from knowing.  She was a truly good person.  

So I am sad.  Not sad that I cannot call her, or see her, but sad because I know she is simply not here anymore.  And I can ask Why her? until I'm blue, but the real question is Why not her?  Why not someone I didn't know?  There was someone I didn't know who died that day.  There were hundreds of them all over the world.  Other people knew them, and they suffered too, and they asked Why her?  I will have loss in my life, just as everyone else will have too.  I can count on one had, and not use all my fingers, the people I've known who've died and affected me like this.  I am one of the lucky ones.  Life is full of hurt, but it is also full of hope.  I guess I feel I am beginning to get better.  

Today, on the two year anniversary of her death, my brother and his wife are sitting in a doctor's office with an ultrasound machine, finding out if their baby will be a boy or a girl.  They tried for so long and were so worried that they may not get this baby.  But it's in there, and it's fixing to get a gender and soon a name.  And I'm happy about that, happy for them.  It's all so hopeful.  And who doesn't need a little bit of hope? 

This isn't the best poem in the world.  There are so many other ones out there that are more eloquent, more beautiful.  But this poem is for my mother, who I'm sure is having a bad day.

Don't think of her as gone away-her journey's just begun

Life holds so many facets-this earth is only one

Just think of her as resting from the sorrows and the tears

In a place of warmth and comfort where there are no days and years

Think how she must be wishing that we could know today

How nothing but our sadness can really pass away

And think of her as living in the hearts of those she touched

For nothing loved is ever lost and she was loved so much.

My phone conversation with Cooter

(phone rings)
"Hello?"

"Hey! Who's this?"

"Um...who's this?"

"This is Cooter."

"Cooter?"

"Yeah, Cooter. Who's this?"

"Um..."

"I got a call from this number on my cell phone. It showed up on my caller ID. I didn't hear my phone ring so I didn't answer it."

"Oh! What is the area code of your number?"

"913."

"Was it about 11:30 or so last night?"

"Yeah!"

"Oh, I'm sorry about that. One of my husband's soldiers was at the hospital and he was trying to get a hold of him. I guess we had his old number."

"One of your husband's soldiers?"

"Yeah."

"Your husband is in the Army?"

"Yeah."

"Hey! AWESOME!"

"Um, yeah."

"What does he do?"

"Well, he's in Military Intelligence and-"

"Ooh! Does he know a lot of secrets and stuff?"

"I don't really think what he knows is necessarily secrets, but it's classified information and-"

"Classified information! That's so AWESOME!"

"Yeah, I guess it is."

"Hey! God bless your husband ma'am. And God bless you ma'am! I really appreciate it, ya know? Just...thank you. Thank you. I can't say thank you enough!"

"Um, okay, thank you."

"NO! Thank YOU! Hey, I gotta get back to the job. Talk to you later!"

"Um, okay. Bye Cooter."

"Bye. GOD BLESS AMERICA! WOOHOO!!"

The school called...

Every time the phone rings and I see "S A ISD" on the caller ID I cringe.  That stands for San Angelo Independent School District and it means that Haley has managed to convince someone that she is going to die if they don't let her call me right now.  Last year, I'm positive of this, they had me on their speed dial, and honestly, no lie, Haley called me twice a week.  She can get anyone to believe that she is sick, she can make herself throw up, and she can develop a fever on demand.  There were several times last year that I flat-out refused to go up to the school and get her, and once Scott even left work and drove over and threatened to take her to an orphanage if she did not go straight back to class.  

The first thing the lady told me after I confirmed that I was, in fact, Mrs. Starr was that both my kids were fine.  She then told me that one of the forms Haley had brought home for me to fill out was not signed at the bottom.  It seems that there are special grants and whatnot to be had if you have military kids in your school; this is per Amy, who knows everything there is to know about schools and good schools and bad schools and school rules and the like.  So the schools here send home forms once a month or so for parents to fill out with questions that seem to not pertain to anything, like "Have you or someone in your family worked on a farm in the last 6 months?"  I mean, seriously, what is that about?   And do marijuana farms count, or just real live farms?  These forms are hard!

I told the lady I had to pick up my son from preschool and then I'd be by to sign the form that for some reason she could not just send home with Haley again so I could sign it here.  She also told me that No, she couldn't just "sign it for me."  I don't know about you, but these office "helpers" don't seem to be very "helpful" to me.

I got Skylar up and changed her diaper and the thought occured to me that she hadn't taken her morning poop, as I notice and think about these sorts of things constantly.  We drove to the preschool and on the way Skylar complied and took a poop.  A HUGE one.  And my gosh did she stink to high heaven.  And I had no diaper in the car because I have no diaper bag.  I did buy a diaper bag on ebay and it was a Vera Bradley one and it was lovely, but Scott hated it from the moment I triumphantly pulled it out of the mailbox bragging about how I beat out all the other people bidding on it.  I think I carried it twice before I decided that yes, it was butt-ugly and I sold it on ebay for a higher price than I originally paid for it.  Score!  So then I bought another diaper bag on ebay that was super cute and homemade and it's about big enough to carry a pacifer, which we don't need to carry because Skylar carries that.  Which means we have no diaper bag to speak of.  I have rectified that by purchasing a really cool brown diaper bag with pink skulls on it and it should be delivered any day now but the post office here is the definition of "slacker" and really, who knows if it's coming or when.  

I carried Stinky Skylar into the school and Owen was sitting at a table counting the dots on the dominoes.  You know, I really wish I made this stuff up, but I don't.  That's what they're teaching him?  Anyway, he looked up and I noticed that his nose was all scratched up and he had a huge red bump on his forehead.  I asked Ms. Jeannette (which I sort of feel is an old lady name but she's like, 26) "What happened to his face?" and she told me that the playground was too wet for them to play on (I can't remember when it last rained) so they went to the volleyball courts to play and Owen fell and could I please sign this accident report for the school file.  It seems that a while back Ashlyn got hurt at school, and I was never asked to sign any "accident report."  Owen said his face didn't hurt, but that his friend Maleek told him there was blood on it.  

Then we drove to the girls' school to sign the paper I forgot to sign and I guess the poop was some alien kind because the smell intensified 100 times over and Skylar was almost climbing out of my arms in attempt to get away from it.  So she started crying.  And Owen started crying because I wouldn't allow him to go to Ashlyn and Haley's classrooms to see them.  Oh, and because I wouldn't go get them and bring them home with us.  So they were both crying, and Skylar's butt smelled so bad that my eyes were watering, and we came home and Owen wouldn't get out of the car, and Skylar screamed when I sat her down in the poopy diaper so I could go drag Owen inside, and finally I just gave up and started drinking.  Because when life throws you lemons you slap a little tequila on it and bam!  Now that's the lemonade I'm talking about!