Getting Ready for School

I can't believe I'm saying this, but, lately I have found myself longing for the structure and routine - or semblance of routine - that school brings. The summers are wonderful. We are freed from defined times, running to get homework done, last minute projects due yesterday, 5 different activities schedules. But by this time, the kids are getting just a tad too comfortable with NOT having that routine and are starting to get a little on the, shall I say, lazy, side. My days go on without end because they have no definite up time. LargeBoy is a night owl and is up some nights until well past three. SmallBoy is pretty much on the same schedule for sleep in the summer, although I have to start slowly working him back towards the school schedule. Poor guy has to get up with me.

I miss having the after school routine of homework, dinner, family/sports time, bed time. Of course, during any given sports season, the dinner and homework schedules are largely skewed, but hey - it's still a schedule. I miss coming home from work and helping SmallBoy with his homework or having him ask for my help with a book report. I miss our "spelling bees" to help everyone prepare for spelling tests - I always win those! I miss my daughter and my husband watching the news together in the morning while they prepare for the day.

I know, I shouldn't be wishing for school to start so quickly, though. I still haven't finished buying school supplies, the uniforms are not together yet, LargeBoy doesn't have his high school wardrobe together yet (jeans, t-shirt, gym shoes everyday), I haven't managed to get all of the high school paperwork in yet. I know that in two weeks when LargeBoy goes for orientation, that the next 4years of my life will fly by before I can bat an eye. And then it will be Girl's turn, as she's only 2yrs behind him. Then SmallBoy. Then they'll be grown up and off to college.

Ok, maybe I CAN wait for school to start.

Strep-less!!!

Girl and I went to the doctor today. NO STREP!!!!!! The did the icky test to her and she was fine. After listening to the history of: IF I had it, I got it at work and IF I had it, that's where Girl got it, the doctor said that if her test came back positive, the would test me. I HATE those! No test for me! HOORAY! HOORAY! Of course, that means I still have no answer as to why I have a sore throat and feel like death in a bucket, but at least I know I'm not getting my family sick! PC will be so happy to hear that! So that's the medical news for today!

Time to Move On (or Surpassing the Image Problem)( OR, hey YOU - MOVE ON!)

Never in my life would I have thought that I was the type of girl that would be considered beautiful, attractive, etc. I grew up as the dork in jr. high. I had BAD, thick, untamed, scary brownish-yucky, bad naturally curl hair (and the curl did whatever it pleased), braces, Harry Caray thick glasses, and acne to scare the devil away. Needless to say, that created quite an image problem.

High school was a little better. The braces came off, I got contacts, and discovered make up. I started learning how to take control of the hair, and before long, discovered Sun-In, which ultimately turned into Clairol blonde. In junior year, I discovered that I could use my unruly hair to my advantage and began to dress like Madonna. Oh Boy - I think I just aged myself. Still not exactly the prettiest girl in class, but I was working hard on getting past this image problem.

College led to a more casual attitude and I got used to getting up and going to class looking like total crap and being o.k. with it. Of course, everyone else did the same thing. I had a boyfriend or two at the time, but really, it was nothing fabulous. And I still was working on getting past looking in the mirror and saying, "GROOOOOOOOOSSSSSS!!!", despite the comments to the contrary by friends & family. In my mind, friends and family always thought that you were beautiful despite anything else in the world.

After college - which I have yet to complete, I met Ex. Ended up getting married 11mos. later - you do the math. I never had the opportunity to do anything about appearances except to look like who I was - a Mom.

Post divorce, I dated a few men before finally marrying the love of my life. They all told me I was beautiful. I didn't believe them. PC, I believe. He makes me feel beautiful and I'm beginning to see that the beautiful he speaks about begins from the happiness he brings me. It starts on the inside and works its way out to be seen by everyone else. This is not Don't-hate-me-because-I'm-beautiful kind of beautiful, because I am a far cry from that - at least in MY opinion. It is a deeper kind of beauty that you feel inside. If you're lucky, well, then other people will see it too.

Lesson learned: The adage about beauty being more than skin deep is true. Once you feel it deep inside you, it will radiate out. The love that you feel from others and for others will make you feel that. It will shine out from you and, even if you can't see it, everyone else will. So move on. Get past the image problem. The other piece of that is that when you find your true love (and, trust me, it IS possible), you WILL feel it. I found him, and now I feel it.

I just wanted to add a quick clarification lest I offend anyone unintentionally: The above titles can be taken multiple ways. One particular, well, the first and last are for those who need to get OVER IT...not meant for ANY of my girlfriends, even those with whom I have "tiffed". I will have your curtain to you before you go, I promise.

Gee, Mom, I Wanna Go Home

I am pretty certain that I have strep throat. I am, however, at work today - which is probably where the dreadful infection originated, as it has been floating through our office. I have not had strep since I was about 6yrs old. I feel like crap. I'm lightheaded, feverish and my throat feels like I've got two ping pong balls lodged in it. My head hurts, my eyes hurt, and I just want to go home to bed. I got up at 7:30 this morning - which, by the way, is when I'm supposed to start my workday, ended up with a terrible parking space, and was then referred to as just plain mean by my students and rotten as a friend...only thing missing from that lot is the bad mama call from my ex.

Last night, my throat hurt, but I was alive. I went to the grocery store to get dinner because those other people that occupy my house really don't care if I'm not feeling well, they feel this genuine need to feed. By the time I got home from the grocery store, my neck was stiff, my throat was totally swollen and I could hardly speak. I took some aspirin-substitute-substance, probably Ibuprofen, and went to bed. Sleep was not easy. I kept waking up to that horrible pain in my throat. One would think that I'd have called in sick today. Nope. Not this Hard Workin' Mama. I'm dedicated to my job that doesn't pay me nearly enough money to be here when I feel this crappy, but that I can't afford to miss. Oh, and not to mention that I was sick last week and used up almost all of my vacation and sick hours and any time that I take off now is unpaid. So, I'm sucking it up, drinking juice, and then going home and going to bed so that MAYBE I can come to work tomorrow. I have the kids making me jello so that I have something to eat when I get home from work. But for now, I'm just glad it's almost lunchtime....oh, wait, I have to work through lunch today since I was late this morning. GRRRRRRRRR. Need.Sleep.

Let Me Just Say EEEUUUUWWW

Thanks to Robin at Cotton Candy Jellybeans for this insightful tidbit. Remind me to never in a million years eat this stuff. It's a "food" being experimented with that, in theory, tastes like chicken. Just gross. Gross, I tell you! I'd love to give you a little lead-in, segue, or something, but I don't want to spoil the surprise.

"Vanity" Be My Name

I have no excuses. I am naturally a vain person who ignores all but my husband and my children. Oh, and I hardly ever see them either, as I am now working two jobs since my ex has left me completely broke and is refusing to help pay for any of Boy's high school or any of SmallBoy's testings, therapies, and multiple other doctor's visits, thus leaving me with a continual stream of calls and voicemails at home AND at work from all of the creditors to whom I owe scads of money and who are threatening to take my firstborn if I don't pay the gazillion dollars that I owe them. My husband is also going to be taking on a second job also, to help pick up the slack where StupidHead Ex is leaving off for his new family. My one night out with any friends is band rehearsal night or school supply purchase night...which, by the way, is probably going to have to be rescheduled so that I can find time to squeeze in a doctor's visit to make sure that I don't have strep throat.

I am, I admit, confess, and feel terrible about, neglecting my dearest friends - those who stood by my side and held my hand while I walked through Hell and back. It is not, however, because I got married. I have left choir, which pains me greatly, not because of any issues other than a complete lack of time. I will soon be neglecting my children as this second job is going to take my time away from them, also, especially once school starts. I will be missing homework time, dinner time, tuck into bed time, sports time, movie time, just plain hangout time.

My friends and family have always been the first to tell me that I need to have some "me" time and not always worry about the "make everybody else happy" time. Apparently, no one told me that having "me" time ticks off a lot of people, especially when that time is beyond difficult to come by. I promised to help a friend out last night and find something that is buried somewhere in the pit of my back porch - which I also have neglected and not cleaned out in forever. Why? Because I haven't any free time. I did not get a chance to call my friend back and tell her that I didn't get a chance to look for it because my throat was so swollen and my neck so stiff, that I took some aspirin and crashed for the night.

I've tried. Honestly. I AM trying and certainly am not, as has been implied, writing off my friends due to my marriage. I know that all of my friends are working their behinds off also, and have time for friends in addition to marriage, children, and jobs. Does anyone have any suggestions as to how to manage to find this "me" time, and, perhaps, sleep, without ticking off any more of my friends and without sacrificing the one thing that I have all to myself - sleep ( a commodity which is also in short supply)? I'd love to hear them.

To Answer the Standard Monday Question...

My weekend - too short. Yours? What did I do, you ask. Friday night PC and I went to a local Mexican restaurant for dinner. It wasn't THE best Mexican restaurant in our town, but it was within walking distance, and we didn't feel like driving. Pigged out on food, listened to (and watched) a lone mariachi player with his glued on hair, and laughed and giggled. We didn't drink much, since their margaritas are not exactly the best gig in town. After that, we went home and were asleep by 10:30.

Saturday, you may have read in my previous post, I was home alone. I ended up going to the fabric store to by some fabric to fix the colossal rip in my favorite jeans, and then I went to PC's bar and harrassed him for food for two hours...which he finally gave me. Went home and got cute for the gig.

The gig...well, that was another story. Do you remember the scene in the Blues Brothers when the band is playing on the stage behind the chicken wire and getting heckled, and getting bottles thrown at them? Ok, so it wasn't that bad, but that's what we (I) felt like. It was just the feeling of the bar, to be honest. Apparently, the bookings got terribly screwed up and they ended up booking us opening for a grunge band that was followed by a metal band. The grunge band was pretty good. Their drummer was phenomenal. Sadly, we never learned the name of their group. We didn't stay long enough to hear the metal band, though. Regardless, here we were, this country/rock cover band opening for grunge and metal. The crowd consisted of the other two bands, their girlfriends, a few people that our bass player had brought in, and some rowdies at the other end of the bar. Interesting, to say the least.

Sunday was breakfast with ET & my SIL. OH.MY.GOD. Biscuits & gravy. Need I say more? I could, but let me just leave you with this vision: Hot steamy buttermilk biscuits slathered in gravy loaded with sausage. OH.MY.GOD. It's a good thing I'm going to work out tonight after work!

Gotta run, boss is lurking!

What to Do?

The children are with their father this weekend and PC is at work. I am home alone. It's kind of eerie. I don't think I've had the house to myself in over a year. The quiet is nice, but it's just plain freaky at the same time. I'm meeting my mother for lunch in an hour or so, and the band is playing tonight, so I still have to figure out what I'm wearing and get cute in time to meet and load up our gear, but for now....

I suppose I could do laundry, clean my room, take a hot bath, sweep up the mountains of dog hair, nap, maybe put some makeup on or do something with my hair, change out of my workout clothes, go get the fabric strips I need to repair my favorite jeans from the rip at the gig last week, or not. I could look for all of my laptop start up discs so perhaps I can fix it from whatever is wrong. I could go work in my garden. I could change my nail polish. I could sit here and blog for the next hour. I really should do laundry and clean my room, though.....but that's no fun, and certainly no way to spend my free time. I could look for all of LargeBoy's high school paperwork, since I'm terribly delinquent turning it in. Nah, that makes me feel old. I could pay bills. I'm sorry, I must be delusional - why would I pay bills on a beautiful day like this? That's depresssing.

I think, perhaps, I'll just do nothing. OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh! There is margarita mix downstairs. It'll be noon in 13 minutes! Now THAT sounds like a lovely idea. I have no books to read until Monday, though, having finally finished the latest Harry Potter book. I guess that means I'll just have to sit on the front porch and enjoy the quiet for a few more minutes.

I have a feeling that there will be more of these days that I have time to myself. What do you do when you are finally home alone?

UGH!

Lovely, adoring, ever-so-wonderful readers:

I'd like to address this lack of articles. I have been icky sick all week and so has my computer. I have to have someone clean it out, which means all of my blogging has to be done, on the sly, at my desk at work...sigh....What better way to spend your first day back at work after being sick for three days!!!

Shameless Band Plug!

Come on out and have a blast! We will!

Isn't She Lovely

From my sister's wedding this weekend. Photos by Anna Tovello

It was 105 degrees on Sunday. We didn't melt and the wedding was beautiful. The food was awesome, the cake was beyond belief. It was wonderful!

Speaking of Rockin' Mama

How absolutely hilarious is THIS?

You Are a Chick Rocker!

You're living proof that chicks can rock You're inspired by Joan Jett and the Donnas And when you rock, you rock hard (Plus, you get all the cute guy groupies you want!)

What Kind of Rocker Are You?

Rockin' Mama

As of this morning, I only have a few pics from last night's gig, but I wanted to make sure to show you kinda sorta what we looked like. This looks pretty tame, so it must have been during the soundcheck. I have a few others, but I don't know how to crop out the people in here who would prefer not to be on camera....I figured this was blurry enough. I should have some more pics by next week to post for you, though! I would be the one in the orange.

Oh, but I must share...as incredible as the gig was, I had a little oopsie right before we were on. I went into the little girls room to "get cute" before we went on. As I bent down to set my drink on the floor, my pants ripped. No, no, no...not from what you'd think. I had a weak spot near the back pocket from yanking my jeans up by the belt straps. Well, apparently, I had stepped on the cuff of my pants while I was bending down and RRRRRRRrrrrip...right down the pocket. Thank GOD I was wearing a long shirt. My poor band had to look at my behind all night though. Thanks guys for taking care of my drinks all night!

Tales from the Ex Files

I really should just write the blog that I created for this specific bitching. But for now, I'll share with y'all, get you hooked, and THEN switch to my third blog! But for now, I'll fill you in on the latest round with "My Favorite Ex"...and yes, that is extreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeemely sarcastic.

Ex and I have been going around in circles on whether or not we should pull SmallBoy from the school he is in and enroll him in the public schools for the next couple of years in order to afford him the help that he needs, all the while, having the school district pay for it. He was all over it, simply because it would cause him one less tuition, and he'd get off cheap on the 50% he needs to fork over for his half of anything for the children not covered by insurance. After conversations with the principal and assistant principal at SmallBoy's school, we came to the decision that SmallBoy would be best staying at his present school. As it turns out, the district will only pay for Occupational Therapy and/or Behavior Therapy if his academic skills are at risk(SmallBoy needs to learn coping mechanisms for his frustrations and to avoid meltdowns). Part of the Asperger's syndrome is an above average to high intelligence. SmallBoy is doing extremely well in school at the moment. He may need help later in his academic career for application and comprehension, but not right now, so the district won't cover it. However, insurance should. Ex's insurance is known to be a reputable insurance company that covers quite a bit....even though they only covered 1/9th of his dx evaluation.

In the middle of explaining all of this to Ex, he decided that it was time to rip me a new one. Married and with a new "fresh-out", he's still disgusted with the fact that I divorced him and am now terribly head over heels in love with my wonderful new husband...even though Ex has made it a point to leave me broker than a G-string on a guitar (yes, on a guitar). He went off on this tangent about when the kids came to visit last weekend, SmallBoy showed up in disgusting clothes, filthy, and covered in boogies, and all of the clothes in his bag were dirty. Now I help SmallBoy pack, because he usually needs some guidance. This time, something else was going on and it just didn't happen. I asked him what he packed, and he told me, "two unners, two shorts, two shirts, two pairs of socks, sleepshorts, and swim trunks." I didn't double check. FOOOOOOLISH ME! As it turns out, he grabbed what he could find from his bedroom floor and the top of the hamper. As for the shirt covered in boogies, well, Ex makes it a point to pick the kids up on his weekends well before I get home from work, so that I can't say bye. Since I'm at work all day trying to make ends meet, I didn't really have a chance to come home and tell him to change his clothes before he left. OOOPS! Bad Mama Sin #1.

Girl and Girl's stepsister went to a movie and took SmallBoy with. SmallBoy, looking for mooches of candy and popcorn, like any typical 8 1/2 yr old, complained that he hadn't eaten anything all day. Of COURSE, this got back to Ex, who promptly screamed at me for not feeding my children. Well, hmmm, let's see...SmallBoy woke up between 9 & 9:30 that day and had eggs for breakfast. The Asperger's has SmallBoy VERY schedule bound...he will NOT eat any meal before its designated time frame. They left for the movie at 12:05, leaving not enough time for SmallBoy to eat lunch at the "proper" lunch time.

Having fun yet? Oh, there's more. I was told that Large Boy (almost 15) and Girl (almost 13) are not allowed to babysit anymore because it's too much of a sacrifice for them. I told him that they have a system down when they have plans and that it works out just fine and, that 3/4 of the time, PC is here anyway. I work 7 minutes away, so, God forbid something hould happen, I can get home in the blink of an eye. This went on and on...if you're not bored yet, you should be.

Lastly, though, he made it a point to tell me, using the actual words this time instead of indirect reference, that I am, for real, a bad mom.

OOOOOOOOOOOOH he's SUCH a bastard! Come SmallBoy's 18th birthday, I know a bunch of people who will be showing up on Ex's doorstep with middle fingers extended (on both hands)...or perhaps a lawn decoration saying, "Happy 18th Birthday SmallBoy. Ex --- F- OFF!" Only I won't censor. 9 more years. I can do this, right?

Fitzgerald's! Be There!

Not being as well versed in html techno-verbage as Citations, I cannot bring you the fabulous flyer for our band's gig this weekend at Fitzgerald's (click to see the schedule for the month...we are on the 15th!). However, if you check over with FC, she has the wonderful flyer posted.

Come and see our band, Code West, tomorrow night at Fitzgerald's. We expect to see you all there. My friends across the pond, perhaps I'll figure out how to post pictures for you so you, too, can share in the fun.

The Piercing of Girl

My older children have been receiving some rewards for helping out with SmallBoy and taking turns sacrificing their summer free time. Last week PC took them to see War of the Worlds...FABULOUS movie, btw, and I am SO NOT a fan of Mr. Polly Prissy-Pants Tom Cruise. They LOVED it! Girl has been asking since way back in basketball season if she could get her cartilage pierced (ears, not nose...trust me). I told her that after the season was over that she needed to talk it over with her father and with me and that we'd think about it. Well, basketball season ended and she was raring to go. Her dad said ok and I said ok. One snag...softball season. Now, all of these sports require that you wear NO jewelry of any kind. That proves to be a bit difficult when you have to leave a freshly pierced anything in for at least 8wks before removing it. So, we waited out softball season which just ended last weekend. She checked with her dad to make sure it was still ok with him and then we were off.

"Mom, Suzie Q told me about this great place in the mall to get it done." We went in search of the place that Suzie Q had told her about only to find it was merely a kiosk in the center of the mall. NO WAY!!! Instead we chose to go to a more known accessories store that has a reputation for good piercings. As we walked in, we stumbled across a family getting their baby girl's ears pierced and she was screaming bloody murder. I told Girl that she was going to have to hold my hand while she got it done or I was going to hurl. She assured me all would be well and that she would be a big girl.

Then came all of the instruction forms and releases that we had to sign. I had to lie about her birthday. I don't know about anywhere else, but in the Land of Lincoln, one must be 13 to have cartilage pierced, even with parental consent. So, I had to fudge her birthday by a few months...ok, so I fudged it by a year, it was just easier to do the math that way. So Girl hopped up in the chair, looked at where the purple marker dot was on her ear and told the girl, "Starr", to go for it. As I turned my head away, I squished in my stomach so that I wouldn't feel it turn inside out at the crunching sound of the piercing. No crunch. I thought she had chickened out. Nope. I turned around and there it was. She looks like a real live teenager now. Lord, help me!

"Did it hurt?" I asked her. She told me that the piercing itself didn't hurt but good Lord was there pain and burning afterwards. She's a tough girl, though. I'm proud of her. I didn't faint. I'm proud of me, too.

Prayers Overseas

All of our thoughts and prayers to our friends and loved ones across the Pond in London. We pray that all of you and yours are safe.

It's About Time!

Thanks to Mom in the Mirror for this great post about a Mom's Bill of Rights. Here is her column. Click over to read the comments and to add your own.

>July 01, 2005

The Mommy's Bill of Rights

I just discovered a clever article by a writer who "decided the Constitution, a model for human rights and democracy, gives little hope to mothers who don't have time to pursue life or liberty, and whose happiness is stopping at a red light to finish brushing their teeth in the rear view mirror."

She's written the Mommy's Bill of Rights because "someone has to uphold the rights of a group of people whose arms are too tired by the end of the day to hold anything else up."

Here's an edited version (these are mostly her words, I just shortened and summarized in places):

Article I: A Mom has the right to freedom of (uninterrupted) speech.

Article II: Mom has the right to confiscate any inanimate object.

Article III: All mothers have the natural right to bear and utilize one of the most dangerous and powerful weapons in the world: guilt.

Article IV: Moms have the right to peacefully assemble -- without their children.

Article V: Mom has the right not to be a victim of cruel and unusual punishment.

Article VI: Mom has the right to own unbroken possessions.

Article VII: Mothers have the right to bestow wisdom.

Article VIII: Mothers have the right to donate.

Article IX: Mothers have the right to vigorously promote coats and vegetables.

Article X: Mothers have the right to prohibit anyone younger than 5 from asking "but, why?"

Amendment I: A mother has the right to love her children unconditionally -- forever.

I have also taken it upon myself to add:

Mothers have the right to sleep until at least dawn, the right to have someone else get up in the morning when she's been up all night sleepless with a sick child.



Mothers have the right to shower without siblings running into the bathroom complaining of hunger, a spill, another sibling, the DVD player, etc...

Mothers have the right to be sick and/or injured all by themselves, without anyone else being sick or injured...and if someone else really and truly IS sick or injured at the same time, then that person needs to find someone else to fill in until Mom is fully healed and healthy.

Comments?

Life Lesson #1504

I hope each of you had a wonderful 4th of July! We did some major yardwork on Monday after spending the rest of the weekend running around like crazy. I just wish that not only would the 4th of July be a mandatory holiday (because it's not at my office - I had to B.S. my way to get the day off), but that the 5th of July also be a holiday to allow recovery time. People travel, have parties, stay up late for the fireworks, wait for the kids to come home from their outtings....we need that next day to kick back and let our bodies catch up. Ok, done with that....out of my system until next year. On to the lesson:

Never use a curling iron when dressed only in your robe!!!

I learned this lesson the hard way while getting ready for work. I had been trying to curl my hair relatively quickly, as it was already 15minutes to "Go-time". I had not yet picked out what to wear, so I was still in my robe. My hands were still just a teensy-weensy bit wet from washing my face. As I rolled down a curl near the top of my head, the iron, slippery from my hands fell. There was no time for instinct to kick in. All of a sudden I felt something tingling in a not so sexy way right across....yeah, you guessed it, my right...hmmm, what's a good synonym for this...."ninny" (thanks for the word KC).

I have been using your typical burn, cut, scrape antibiotic ointment and it's beginning to heal nicely, but it itches like almighty hell. What drives me even more crazy is that I can't exactly scratch it, even though I know I shouldn't anyway.

So, learn from me: Always make sure your hands are dry when you're curling your hair and make sure you always have on some kind of a shirt or SOMETHING! To be correct and fair to the gentlemen, I would definitely advise wearing pants if you are curling your hair or near someone who happens to be curling hair!

Friday Funny: How to Clean The Toilet

Thanks to Milly for this funny. In my house I picture this happening the other way around:

How to Clean The Toilet:

1. Put both lids of the toilet up and add 1/8 cup of pet shampoo to the water in the bowl.
2. Pick up the cat and soothe him while you carry him towards the bathroom.
3. In one smooth movement, put the cat in the toilet and close both lids. You may need to stand on the lid.
4. The cat will self agitate and make ample suds. Never mind the noises that come from the toilet, the cat is actually enjoying this.
5. Flush the toilet three or four times. This provides a "power-wash" and rinse".
6. Have someone open the front door of your home. Be sure that there are no people between the bathroom and the front door.
7. Stand behind the toilet as far as you can, and quickly lift both lids.
8. The cat will rocket out of the toilet, streak through the bathroom, and run outside where he will dry himself off.
9. Both the commode and the cat will be sparkling clean.

Sincerely,

The Dog