The Story of the One That Got Away

Merry Christmas to you all! My gift is an actual post! Hahaha (well, it would be funny if it wasn't true)!

We spent this past week up at our farm. One of the things we do there (and by "we," I mean The Husband) is hunt. We arrived at the farm on Monday afternoon and The Husband promptly went out to hunt deer. The Boy stayed home and helped The Grandma. The Girl and I went out for pedicures.

Tuesday morning, The Husband went back out. That afternoon, he called me to tell me he'd shot a deer, but needed help tracking her. I loaded up both kids and off we went. We had NO luck at all. No deer, no arrow, no blood...nothing.

Wednesday morning, The Husband went back out, but this time, he took both kids. They were very eager to go. He was not planning on actually hunting per se, but he had the kids to show them. He put The Boy in a tree stand and kept The Girl with him.

Shortly after getting settled, The Girl whispered to The Husband, "Daddy! Daddy!" The Husband shushed her..."Not now, Honey. It's time to be quiet." "Daddy! DADDY," she tried again, this time adding, "DADDY...BLOOD!" The Husband looked and sure enough, there was blood...a TINY bit of it. Here you can see The Girl pointing it out:



Well, imagine The Husband's surprise! The Husband and The Girl headed toward The Boy. They were going to try to track the deer. They looked a bit, but decided to come home and get ME first. WHAT were they thinking?! OK - in all honesty, they came home to use the potty and eat, but I'm going to stick with my story.

I got dressed and off we all went to the farm to track the deer.




We tracked her for a good 300 yards through the woods to a clearing, where, somehow, the arrow had worked its way out of the doe. Problem was, there was no doe. In fact, once we came to the arrow, there was no more sign of blood. It's like she somehow removed the arrow and disappeared. It was terribly frustrating for us all.

I'd always heard fish stories of the one that got away, but never doe stories. As it turns out, The Husband nicked a tiny tree limb with the arrow so he did not hit the doe where he was aiming. Our best guess is he shot high and she somehow survived...or went VERY far before dying.

There was one kill for the week, though. Thursday night, I saw a possum in the garden. The Husband grabbed a shotgun and managed to kill the offending possum! He was huge, but not a trophy and DEFINITELY not dinner!

A question of WHY

A friend of mine recently posted on a bulletin board how sad she was about how women treat each other. Her descriptive words included the following:

shitty
backstabbing
hurtful
click-y
disrespectful
unhelpful
sneaky

And you know what? She's right. In fact, there are several words she didn't use, but then again, she is far more classy than I. Had it been my post, I'd have used all those other unsavory words as well!

Why is this? Why are women like this? What is wrong with us? And - more importantly, why are we allowing this and perpetuating it?

Let's face it...we are not born mean. We learn it. We learn it from our mothers, sisters, peers, idols, etc. Being a MeanGirl is a learned behavior. When we are young, we love everyone. We are friends with everyone and we want everyone to be friends with us. But then we see the women around us excluding people. We hear them talking about how ThisWoman is not quite good enough and ThatWoman is not thin enough and TheOtherWoman doesn't wear the right clothes or act quite right. We see the women around us hug their DearFriends and chat about the latest and greatest only to hear them privately speak ill of each other when those same DearFriends are not around.

Why is this OK with us? Why are we teaching our daughters to be mean?

One of my other friends replied to this first friend by telling her "I'm finding the older I get, the more easily I can "scratch" crappy, dangerous or otherwise unhealthy people right off my mental "friend-list" and never look bad or feel bad about it!" Isn't that wonderful? How liberating that feels! Can you imagine having that power when you are in your 20s? Or - even better yet, imagine that power and confidence when you are in your teens!

I am ready to do something. I am ready to stop the toxicity in my world. I know myself well enough to know I will most likely continue to speak ill of people from time to time; however, I will do everything in my power never to do so in front of The Girl. She is 12. She deserves better than that. I know she will experience MeanGirls in her life; she already has. But maybe I can teach her to let them go a little bit sooner than I learned to.

Chivalry is dead

Well, not totally, but it's well on its way out.

When I left work today, I noticed, much to my chagrin, that I had a flat. My left rear tire was dead. There were three men in the parking lot as I noticed this, so I yelled (pretty loudly), "Hey! Anyone want to help me change a tire?"

I was kidding of course. I knew no one wanted to help, but at no time did I expect those gentlemen to get into their respective vehicles and drive off! I was a bit shocked. One of my female co-workers, upon seeing my van, drove back around the parking lot to check that I was OK and had the help I needed. Women 1; Men 0.

I had to go back into the building and ask someone for help. I could not believe it.

Now I'm certain I could have changed the tire myself; I've done it before; however, I was totally going for the damsel in distress today and it was SO not working. And - I was wearing white pants! As it happens, I did help quite a bit. I drive a minivan and my spare tire is under the middle of my van. I lowered the spare and released it while my co-worker jacked up the van and removed the flat tire. Women 2; Men 1.

I really am surprised by the behavior of the men who literally scurried to their vehicles so they would not have to help!

Facebook High

I graduated from high school 24 years ago. (Damn, that's a long time!) The best part about graduating from high school is that I'm not in high school anymore. I know...seems redundant to say, but it is true.

OK - fine. I *do* work in a high school. I get it. It's not the same, so hush! This is MY story, not yours!

This morning, I was reading a post from Hot Tub Lizzie and I was reminded of something I wanted to post.

Facebook is NOT high school, and yet, for so many people, it is. Why? What's up with that? Why is there still this ridiculous need to put others down or "unfriend" people or, even more bizarrely, delete comments people make?

Situation 1:
A girl who went to my elementary school sent me a friend request. It is important to know that I did NOT seek her out in any way. She "friended" me. I remembered her fondly and accepted the request. It is also important to note I do not accept requests from EVERYONE...only those with whom I am interested in reconnecting or catching up. I accept requests from friends with whom I've lost touch. Anyway, as I said, I accepted a request from *Jane* and that was that. I remember writing something on her wall, and, if memory serves, she replied. I think her daughter is involved in gymnastics. So is The Girl. I think I commented on that. A mutual friend had said she heard *Jane's* husband had passed away a few years before. I did not know any of this. All the same, I sent *Jane* a note in her inbox asking how things were and giving the brief reader's digest of my life; I never heard back. A month or two later, I could not remember if I had, in fact, sent the message or if I'd just thought about it. I sent another, more brief note. Again, I heard nothing. I went to check on something and realized she had "unfriended" me. WTH?

Situation 2:
I am Facebook friends with a girl from high school. I don't remember who "friended" whom, but it's been a while. She had pix posted and I looked at them. She and her high school sweetheart (with whom I was actually more friends with in HS than I was with her) are married and have a beautiful family. There was one picture of them from HS and I commented on it. It was a really cute picture and it was exactly how I remembered them. The other day, a picture of hers was on my home page. I flipped through the album and realized it was the same album with the photo on which I'd commented...except my comment had been deleted. Again, WTH? It was a complimentary comment.

These are only two of so many stupid little things that happen regularly at Facebook High School. It literally blows my mind that so many people have NOT left high school in their past and continue to try to live it. I use Facebook to keep in touch with people...not to brag or show off or prove my superiority. My friends already know I'm superior! :)

At this point, I can honestly say that if it wasn't for all the addictive games and the few good friends with whom I've reconnected, I could easily leave Facebook forever!

Clothing sizes

I can't exactly say I've always had a good self-image. It's not exactly bad, but it's not what most people would call healthy either. Of course, that might be because my body shape is not what one would call particularly healthy!

At a doctor visit this past year, my doctor wrote on my records that I am "mildly obese." Yuck. I mean, I knew that and all, but to see it in writing?! Ick!

I started losing weight. I'd love to tell you how that happened and inspire you to do the same if it is what you want, but, truth be told, I don't really know how it happened. I know we were trying the Zone diet and I think that had a lot to do with it...but I think it was more about being suddenly aware of portion sizes! I ate less. Period.

I did not lose all that much weight. To date, it's been about 13 lbs or so. I noticed, first, that my clothes fit better. Then, I noticed they didn't really fit well at all anymore. I went shopping with a friend who told me to try on pants a size smaller than I wear (most of my clothes were 12s). They fit, but they were loose at the waist. She told me to try another pair one size smaller. They fit perfectly. They were snug but in a good, comfy way. I was floored.

I have been shopping several times since that day and I am consistently wearing a size 8. BUT, here's the thing. I swear to you that a size 8 now is NOT the same as a size 8 a few years ago. When I got married (14 years and 20+ lbs ago), I was wearing some 8s but mostly 10s. This shift in clothing size is eye-opening to me. I was somewhat shocked with my discovery, but I know it must be true. I still own some older pieces that are 12s and I know I could NEVER fit into anything smaller.

About four years ago, I was in a store and the woman told me that, traditionally, their clothes were marked one size smaller than they actually were. That was *not* comforting to me when I was wearing those 12s and they were snug! It was a comment that stuck with me. Now, I think everyone is doing it.

So. How about it? Have you noticed an unexplainable change in your clothing size?

Offensive Outfits

Today's post is inspired by my friend Colette's blog, Curious to know Why. Colette poses questions that we all have but don't necessarily ask out loud! I will try to emulate Colette's style for this one because...well, because I love the way she writes!

Today's question is: Why do some women believe it is acceptable to go out in public half-naked?

Background: Let me preface this by saying I am not speaking of women who frequent night clubs or bars or whatever. I'm talking about a specific woman I saw at the grocery, of all places...on a Sunday morning (yep, today). She was not looking to meet someone; she was with her husband/boyfriend and their child doing what the rest of us were doing...grocery shopping.

This woman is a full-figured woman. The dress she was attempting to wear was not full-figured. It was WAY too small on her. Her rather large breasts were practically falling out of the small top. I'm not talking cleavage...I'm talking full-on boobs. Everywhere. Does she not have a mirror in her home? Is her significant other so insecure that he feels the need to encourage this lack of clothing? Does she really think the rest of us want to see her breasts?

When I first came across this woman, I wanted, more than anything, to give her the benefit of the doubt. I was near the milk/dairy aisle and I wanted to believe she woke up, realized she had no milk in the house, grabbed her kid, and ran to the store for a gallon of milk. Except, I couldn't give her that. She was not hurrying through the store. She was strolling. Then, I saw she was not alone. The three of them made their way strolling through each of the aisles. It was like a train wreck...you could NOT not look at her!

I wanted to say something to her, but I didn't (nor would I have) but I was very happy that my children were not with me gawking as all the other customers were!

Clutter

What is it about clutter that drives us mad? We are trying to de-clutter; however, there are things with which I am not willing to part. That means that instead of getting rid of the clutter, I’m simply moving it from one place to another. There are places in which I can have clutter and function perfectly well. In others, if there is clutter, I fall to pieces.

How do you handle clutter?

On being considerate...

First off, thanks for all the visits and notes! I had no idea I was Saucy till someone posted a note to me...and what a LAME entry it was that day! LOL! *sigh* Oh well! I hope I didn't scare anyone away with my lameness!

Now, on to today's post. Mostly, it's a pet peeve of mine, and, to be honest, it's not something the "offender" should have to correct. Regardless, I am going to vent because that is what I do and now that I have a blog, this is where I do it. Lucky you!

Today, on my way home from work, I was behind a smoker. I know this because of a number of things, not the least of which was the fact that I could inhale her smoke! It was a beautiful day out and most people had their windows open. This woman, who had a "got hope?" bumper sticker in one corner and an Obama sticker in the other (see the irony here, people?!), threw her cigarette out the window. That part she *should* have to correct. Littering pisses me off. The smoke, on the other hand...well...who am I to tell her she can't smoke in her own car. I could tell her she shouldn't but not that she can't.

So...because the weather was nice and the traffic was moving slowly, I got to suffer through this litter-bug's second-hand smoke.

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On a completely unrelated note, have you guys played FreeRice? You can find out more about the program on the FAQ page. Anyway, you can play games and correct answers earn rice to be donated through the UN World Food Program. Some of the subjects are easy, but some are difficult. I'm having a lot of fun learning to recognize certain painters. The site is less than a year old, so keep watching for new subjects and levels!

Are you talking to me?!

It seems both The Boy and The Girl are perfectly capable of ignoring me. They can ignore The Husband as well. If we ask or tell them something, they can tune us out like nobody's business. Why is it, then, they are completely and totally incapable of ignoring each other?! HOLY CRAP, it's out of hand. Yesterday, they both went home from school with friends (and OMG, what a nice afternoon I had! I actually went out for a drink with friends from work. It's a somewhat regular occurrence that I never get to join so I was SUPER excited to have some wonderful, grown-up time!).

Today, The Husband and I decided it would be nice to run our errands together and do some exploring. It's beautiful out today and we really saw this as a good thing. We planned to do some fun shopping (outdoors stores and such) and have lunch. The kids? Well, they had other plans. They thought it would be a perfect day to complain and act like total fools. They spent the entire day bickering with each other and going out of their way to annoy each other. On more than one occasion, they were told to stop. True to form, they were fully able to ignore us but not each other. The day was ruined, lunch was a mess, and we came home early. I don't think there will be any family-fun going on tomorrow; both kids are grounded all weekend.

Southern Hospitality my foot!

I live in the South. This is not a choice I made but rather a circumstance with which I live. I have nothing against the South, mind you, but I'm a Yankee through and through and would prefer to live up north where we have four distinct seasons per year.

We have lived in our current home for over a year. That is long enough to establish oneself in any given neighborhood. Today, The Girl and a bunch of other kids (some of whom I'd never seen before) decided to open a tea stand. Please note it was *not* a lemonade stand but, rather, a tea stand. And here is me, shaking my head.

We don't live on a particularly busy street so I was not expecting the kids to do much business. I look outside and there is an older couple drinking the kids' tea. I walk outside. The couple is speaking with the kids and the woman asks me if I live here. Um...did you not just see me walk out the front door...wearing my slippers?! I answer her yes and she tells me who she is. She lives across the street one house over. Did I mention yet that I've lived here OVER a year?! She seems polite, as does her husband. I find a way to casually slip into the conversation that we've lived here for quite some time...over a year now. She says something to the effect of "Well, it's nice to meet you," and how nice it is to have children in the area. My kids ride their bikes through the street a lot. They are outside a lot. In fact, I've seen this couple outside on numerous occasions - they do a lot of gardening/landscaping. Not once in the year we've lived here have they said hi. We've even had yard sales...two of them! Again, not once did anyone come by and say "Hi! I'm your neighbor."

I know only two people who live on my street: the man across the street (who introduced himself when we moved in) and a couple down the street who just moved in (and I know them because I happen to work with the wife). One of The Boy's classmates just moved into a house down the street, but I have not met his family. There are probably 20 houses on our small street (ours included).

So I'm curious about this mythological concept of southern hospitality. We have yet to see it in action...anywhere. How far south does one have to go (not that I'm considering it!)?

Writer's Block

So that's it. That's what is wrong. I am suffering from severe writer's block. It's driving me mad because I have thoughts and ideas floating around and as soon as I get to where I can write them (even on scraps of paper), they're gone. The other day, I had an AWESOME idea for a great post. I think I was in the car on the way to work while I thought of it. By the time I got to work (which, I might add, is only about 10 minutes away), it was gone...kaput...out the window (no pun intended)! WTH?

I think some of it has to do with our new busier schedule. We have so much going on right now that my brain is over-crowded with trivial things like when to pick up the kids and what groceries need to be purchased. None of that random stuff is important and it's crowding out the vital stuff like "what funny things can I blog about today?"

I'll keep plugging along. Maybe I should try blogging from work. No one would notice that, would they?! ;)

On Being Mean

My kids are mean. There, I said it. And, I'd love to say I feel better but the thing is, I don't. In fact, I'm more upset with the knowledge and acknowledgement of their being mean. Don't get me wrong...they are not mean to their friends or to people they meet. No, they are mean to each other - viciously mean. I just don't get it. I swear, they each go out of their way to irritate each other and with absolutely no mercy.

The Boy is still recovering from his misery and The Girl is doing everything she can to piss him off. The morning Girlfriend left, she and The Boy were sitting in our over sized chair together. The Boy has been trying to keep everyone off said chair for his own sentimental reasons. It's working for him because, well, to be honest, no one really sits in that chair except for him anyway. Cue The Girl. She has made it a point to sit on the arm of said chair in a teasing manner. She has not actually sat IN the chair but she will hover and wander nearby and, as I said, sit on the arm, all the while asking ever so sweetly, "What? I'm just sitting on the arm!"

This evening, I asked The Girl to put the laundry into the dryer. The Boy volunteered to do it instead. (I told you he wasn't feeling himself yet!) The Girl asked him to please not put any of her leotards in the dryer. This, to him, was pure ammunition. He claimed the only one he could find said it was supposed to go in the dryer. The Girl screamed and went to grab the leotard but The Boy refused to allow her to have it. Why? Just to be mean. Perhaps it was in response to her chair stupidity, but I'm thinking no...it was just for the joy and power of being mean.

These are, quite unfortunately, not isolated incidents, but rather a small sample of the daily dosage of mean behavior in my home. It is ironic because when I started this blog, I thought it would be filled with humorous anecdotes of the kids. Instead, it is far more raw in parts. And, before she responds (yes, you, Mom), I know I was a bitch all my life and haven't stopped yet when I was younger, I don't push buttons with my brothers anymore. It's so silly and not worth the aggravation. How long will I have to wait before The Boy and The Girl figure this out?

It's FRANKEN-dog!

Hello, everyone! Welcome! C’mon in and get comfy. Don’t mind the mess…our cleaning lady had a bit of an accident so she’s been off for about a month. We’re picking up the slack, but not as well as she does! I *did* manage to do the dishes, so if you wander into the kitchen for a snack, there is nothing in the sink. Also, I made sure to stock the fridge, so feel free to grab a bite. Stay as long as you like. As I said, I did some cleaning so you’re welcome to wander ALL around the place. Oh - and feel free to turn off the music so you can read in peace. Or, if you're an 80s fan like me, turn it up!


Ok, ok. So I'm officially in the running for Worst Pet Caregiver in the Universe. *sigh* BUT...it's not entirely my fault (or so I will continue to believe)!

As you may already know, The Dog had some minor surgery two weeks ago. All went well and when the vet called, she said the stitches should come out in about 10 days. Today is the 10th day. SO...I decided to save myself the $23+ for the office visit and remove the stitches myself. No biggie...I've done it with The Girl. Easy Peasy...or so I thought!

The first set of stitches were on The Dog's hip. I took them out yesterday and all went well. I waited another day for the ones on her head...just in case. This afternoon, I took them out. They came out pretty easily and all looked great. I took The Girl to gymnastics. When I got home, The Husband was home. He said nothing about The Dog. Then, The Dog came in the office. The Boy screamed "OMG, GROSS!" and proceeded to act as though he was about to vomit. (He's a bit of a drama queen.) We look at The Dog and see she has split the top of her head back open.



Blech! SO...we do what normal, responsible pet owners do...we wrap her up.

She is not so much a fan of the headband. I thought it was stylish! Here she is begging me to remove this stupid thing before the other dogs see her and start to laugh.

I took The Dog to the Emergency Vet (which is very much like a regular vet but their hours are 6pm - 8am). They looked at her and, $140 later (remember - I did this to save $23 or so) fixed her right up...but not without some minor sedation.

The vet had said she was giving The Dog something that would be as if she'd drank a 6-pack but they were also giving her a reversal dose. I don't think the reversal took because she is groggy as all get out and hysterically funny to watch (not that we'd watch and laugh...because that...that would be WRONG)!

So now The Dog has, instead of the two stitches in her head, four staples. This time, I am taking her to the vet to have them removed (for free)!

BUT...I'm not finished. I kinda have a gripe here with the Emergency Vet people. We got there at 6:30pm and were the ONLY clients there. The receptionist got our info, played with The Dog for a bit, weighed her, and took us into the examining room. Then, we WAITED...I'm not kidding. It was maybe 10 minutes before the Vet Tech came in. She took The Dog's temp, heart rate, etc. Then, we waited AGAIN for the vet. By now, another client had arrived. Still - when we were the only ones here, why weren't they faster? Is this a game they like to play? I know the vet and tech were in the back chatting because we saw them and they even commented on The Dog's fashionable headband.

After the vet came in to the room and told us what she was going to do, I asked her for a time-frame. We had not had dinner yet and I needed to plan accordingly. She told me 10 - 15 minutes max. We left the office 45 minutes later. Now - when the vet first said 15 minutes, I was shocked. I even said to The Girl, "Wow - I thought she'd say an hour!" Obviously, I'd have had no problem with an hour - but don't lie to me!

So, my gripe is twofold. First off, why make us wait when we were the only patients there, and secondly, why tell me we'll be out in 15 minutes when it will be closer to an hour. Had she said 45 min in the first place, I'd have been totally OK with that but she didn't. WTH?

At least The Dog is feeling better...I think!

ETA...it is NOT a sanitary pad on The Dog's head. It is a large square of gauze. I'm LMAO that so many of you thought it was a pad!!

The Waiting Game...and a CONTEST!

This is my first ever contest! Woohoo!! It is open until midnight tomorrow (24 July 2008). See below for details!

So...remember my Conspiracy Theory post? I'm ready to test it. It rained today and I have proof. I took pictures - LOTS of pictures. Consider this a photo essay of sorts!

Here it is raining:

Here is The Dog watching the rain:

It rained for a long time. I decided to do an experiment. I decided to measure the rainfall myself. To that end, I found a bucket and put it out in the rain (VERY scientific)!

Then, I watched it rain some more. There were streams coming down the street, which you can sort of see here:

That is not just "noise" on the photo (grainy stuff) but actually rain. I'm telling you, it was a doosie of a rainstorm. Here is one more picture of the rain:

Notice how it splashes off the table? These were big raindrops and they fell for well over an hour. We got a lot of rain.

My bucket did a great job capturing rain that I can measure for my own edification. Next step was to get the handy-dandy tape measure (that I *did* return to its proper place when I finished!)

The measurement is CLEARLY at or just above the 1" mark. I realize this is not how rain is measured for real, but it's good enough for me!

Now for the CONTEST! Whoever can guess closest to the weather people's ACTUAL measurement for the day WITHOUT CHEATING wins a brand new umbrella! I know, not a huge gift but it is my first contest ever and I'm starting slowly! Remember, you have until midnight on July 24th to guess the total amount. If there are multiple correct answers, I will randomly choose the winner. Good luck!

Conspiracy Theory

So there seems to be a bit of a conspiracy going on now. Last summer, we had an extreme (or whatever the worst condition is) drought. According to the weather folks, we never fully recovered from that drought, although all the surrounding counties have lifted all watering restrictions and bans. Go figure.

This year, despite the 7+ inch deficit from last year, we are doing better. My understanding (again, according to the weather people) is that we are still below where we should be for the year but that we’re not too bad off. We are in ‘moderate drought’ stage now, but most likely headed to ‘abnormally dry’ by the next official drought index. To that end, I have been tracking the rainfall amounts because I am obsessive in that way like to keep up. I like to know these things. In fact, it’s something I check first thing every morning once a day. I pull up my one of my favorite websites (The Weather Channel) and click ‘yesterday’ to see the rainfall amount and current total.

Here’s where the conspiracy comes into play. Although I was not home last Saturday to witness this (July 5th), there was a picture in the paper that showed ankle-deep water from flooding rains that day. I came home Sunday and it rained all evening. I don’t remember if it rained Monday, but it poured on Tuesday. When I checked the rainfall amount Wednesday morning, it showed we’d gotten 1.15” of rain Tuesday (which seemed pretty accurate…it rained a lot and for hours). Our total for the month was about 2.63” and it was only the 9th. I was pretty excited about that. (I know…get a life. WHATEVER! You have your obsessions and I have mine.) It rained a bit Wednesday, so I checked Thursday to see if there was measurable rain. When I checked, I saw “THEY” had changed Tuesday’s rainfall amount from 1.15” to 0.35”! Um…WHAT? How did that happen? Did all that rain suddenly evaporate while it was raining again on Wednesday? By my count, we should have been over 3” by the end of this week and yet, today, it says our monthly total is 2.13”…and that INCLUDES the rain from Wednesday AND Thursday! (BTW – it rained yesterday, too, but apparently it was not a measurable amount).

The funny/odd part of all of this is that, as I said, there are no watering restrictions in place anywhere. Granted, we’re not in as bad of shape as we were last summer when, to the best of my memory, it rained MAYBE twice (I remember because the kids LOVED the fact that we could go to the pool EVERY day); however, every day, the amount of rain we get seems to lessen.

Thoughts?

On to the playoffs

Tonight was the first night of playoffs for The Boy's baseball team. His team finished 8th and they played the team that finished 9th. The game was supposed to be played on Friday evening but after waiting 45 minutes for an umpire to show, the game was postponed to tonight.

It was hot today and our side was sitting directly in the sun. Apparently, that works for our boys because they won the game 13-3; it was called after 4 innings due to the 10-run rule. A friend of mine has a son on the other team and we were teasing each other that each of our sons' teams had better lose so the season would be over would win. OK - Busted. It's true. We both wanted our kids to lose so the season would be over. As I said, The Boy's team won. At the end of the game, my friend thanked me!

Tomorrow night is game two of the series; The Boy's team plays the number 1 team. The Girl has her very first practice with her gymnastics team as well. Her practice is 3:30 - 5:30. Guess what time The Boy's game starts. You're close...it's at 5:45. Guess where it is. Yep...it is two towns over. Guess who is working late. Wow - you guys are good at this! You're right - The Husband! Last one. Guess who is going to do some heavy drinking at the end of the night if she manages to pull everything off and NOT get a speeding ticket! OK - too easy. You all win.

The prize? Oh - that's a day in my life!! :)

On how NOT to run a business

The Husband put clipless pedals on my bike this weekend. I do not have bike shoes, so on our errands, we stopped at the local bike shop to get some. We found a nice pair of Shimanos and they were reasonably priced. The woman at the store asked if we needed help but we told her we were doing OK...she and The Husband chatted a bit about the shoes while I tried them on. They were good. We looked around to see if there was anything else we needed but there was not. SO...we went to check out. We stood at the register for a bit and waited. Finally, The Girl asked if she could ring the bell. I told her to go ahead. The shop owner was with a customer; his wife was in the back chatting; the other employee was playing on a computer. We waited a good 5 minutes more but NOT ONE employee so much as GLANCED our direction! I was pissed. We left the shoes and walked out. The Boy asked (as we were leaving) if we were leaving the shoes and I said (loudly enough to be heard) "Yes - no one here wants my money so I'll take my business elsewhere!" Again, not one employee even glanced up. WTF? What kind of customer service is that? This is the only bike shop in town. We have bought 3 bikes there in the last 4 or 5 months, not to mention all the other, smaller items. You can bet your ass we will not be returning to said bike shop!

We drove to another shop not too far away (about 30 mi or so) and I got these. They are better shoes and the store had WAY better customer service!

Gymnastics try-outs went well. We *should* hear something this week. Again, I have no idea if she was good enough to make the team.

On why it is good we don't live in Salem

The Girl seems to have a talent of which all school-aged people dream. Unbeknownst to her, she is the envy of students world-wide. She is remarkable. She is amazing. SHE CAN WORK UP A FEVER AT A MOMENT'S NOTICE! It's truly a gift and a talent I know I wish I'd had as a child. Many a morning she has groggily complained about going to school. We, being the mean, horrible, nasty parents we are, have sent her fever-free self off into that cruel, cruel world only to be phoned an hour or two later and be told she has a temperature of 101+ and must be picked-up immediately.

"How does she do this," one might ask. If only we knew. Lucky for her, we've grown attached to her so we'll not take her to Salem to be burned at the stake.

When did I get old?

I was chatting with a guy at lunch today. He is younger than I am but we get along well and joke around a lot (usually about juvenile things because, well - let's face it - that's funny stuff!). The subject of Texas came up, and, subsequently, South Padre Island. I asked him if he remembered about 20 yrs ago or so there was a massive measles epidemic (I remember I had to have another vaccination - I was in college). He said, "Um...no - I was seven. I can't help you there!" And then it hit me. I'm OLD! Only old people can say things like "Oh, that was 20 years ago!" I told him I met The Husband almost 20 years ago! (Of course, now that I think of it, the measles thing was more like 18 yrs ago but that's how it is with us old folks...we can't remember so well anymore!)

So there it is. Somehow, somewhere along the way, I grew older. I don't feel older. Hell, I feel the same way I did in my 20s...but smarter and more comfortable/confident. Other people at work are often surprised when I tell them how old I am. Most peg me for early 30s. I will be 40 this year. I know it is a compliment and youthful looks run in my family. Still, it struck me as odd today.

thoughtful musings (with some big words thrown in...)

It's peaceful in my house right now. After work, I picked up the kids and brought them home. Then, The Husband grabbed them and brought them back to his work because we both had to work this evening and I could not bring the kids with me. My meeting was far quicker than I'd anticipated and I am back home now. As I am sitting here enjoying my solitude, a multitude of thoughts are swirling through my mind. Mostly, I'm thinking of the fact that I seem to live two separate lives: life at work and life at home. I don't mix the two well. My job requires my bringing work home often and yet, I don't seem to get much of it done (perhaps why I enjoy going in on weekends...). It's just that when I'm home, I'm HOME. I'm mom, wife, and all that comes with. At work, I'm a person with different responsibilities. I don't think about home stuff at work and, despite my thinking of work while at home, I rarely act upon it. Overall, it's not a bad thing. I always get everything caught up and all is well with the world. It's just that it seems so overwhelmingly evident at this precise moment.

It is interesting that throughout our lives, we play different roles. Many of the times, for many of us, those roles overlap. All the same, there are times when they have nothing to do with each other. I had a conversation with one of my closest friends this evening and I believe that is what set my pensive mood into action. I was explaining how, at one particular point in my life, I found myself having to act very differently than what I considered my normal 'everyday' life. At the same time, part of me realizes that I really wasn't acting much differently than I do now - that is in my 'public life.' That, of course, led me to the whole 'separate lives' thought. Who I am with my family is not necessarily who I am to the public. Of course, that realization made me think of the novel, To Kill a Mockingbird, in which one of the characters says about Atticus that he is the same man inside his house as he is on the public streets. I suppose that is the type of person one aspires to emulate, provided one knows that Atticus is a man of great integrity.

Reading back over this post, it seems maybe all that money spent on college didn't go to waste!