Can't I just enjoy it?

I went to see The Blind Side on Friday, with a friend, her son, and my two sons. Pinky really wanted to see this movie. I was not opposed to going. I had heard Sandra Bullock put in a good performance, and hey, I think she is, or at least was, to velo-dude what Johnny Depp is to me (oops, I probably wasn't supposed to say that). Well, I was not prepared for the flood of tears that came from me, throughout the entire movie. I should have been, because I have always been a sucker for a tearjerker, and I am a natural at crying. In public. But this was ridiculous. Luckily my friend joined me for a few of those tears. Pinky said he felt like crying several times, but "held it in". Curly was quiet through most of the movie, no small feat there for someone who normally cannot keep the mouth shut. So it was one of those movies. A good cry. A feel-gooder. Except that I'm not supposed to like this movie. It's not supposed to make me feel good. True story though it is, I am supposed to be disgusted by the paternalism, the rich-white-family-saves-poor-African-American cliche, etc. So I feel guilty liking it, and that has weighed on my mind most of the weekend. It takes the feel-good out of the feel-gooder.

I go to the movie theater so rarely, really. Why can't I just enjoy it when I do go?

?

Anyone know why the blogs I follow don't update over on my sidebar? I think laggin posed this question a while back as well. It irritates me. Little things like that do. The bigger things in life? I just go into denial on those.

exam hangover

I have that bad hangover taste in my mouth. Not alcohol-induced. More like...poor-preparation-for-an-important-job-related-exam-induced. I don't know why I am having so much trouble focusing on study time at this point in my life, but it's pretty bad. I made it through graduate school 15 years ago, so what's the big deal? Two little things called Pinky and Curly, I guess. Plus a little laziness added in. I did hammer away for the past few weeks, but just like last time, seems to have been too little too late. Somehow I am going to have to break out of this cycle and get down to business next time around. I have 2 months until results come out, during which I will teach myself an undergraduate-level business course (totally different topic), take mini-exam at the end of the year, and then see in early January whether I need to restudy the same material from this last big exam, or whether I get to move on to the next one. Realistically, I don't stand a chance in hell of passing, based on the number of items with which I had difficulty. But, I know my routine. As the next 2 months progress, I will start to get glimmers of hope that somehow I pulled it off (everyone else did just as bad, my random guesses on the multiple choice beat all odds and were all correct, etc). Then the day results come out, I will be thinking I have half a chance, until I scroll through that list, searching for my id number, and alas, it will not be there. Shot down again. I will fight off tears, as this will be on a weekday, mid afternoon, and I will be at work. Oh, the beauty of this twisted semi-annual drill. (and the new twist to this will be that it will be early January, right in the thick of year-end reporting which is way bigger deal with my new position, so I will not be able to walk out the door and start drowning my sorrows).

Ugh.

But, that is it for my self-pitying/self-loathing, on this site, for now. Time to enjoy the little things again, and maybe blog about a few of the good ones.

Floor!

Wow, I finally have a brand new bamboo floor covering the nasty stained pressboard in my living-dining room L. I love it! I don't know whether it was the reverse psychology (jb, take note!!) or just general disgust with the looming project that prompted velodude to get it done, but he did a fine job. You can check out velodude's pics here if you so desire.

That's all for now. Headed to PA soon for the burial of my dad's cremains. This will be a much better memorial service, more of a life celebration with the raw pain having subsided.

mouths o' babes

What would you think if a 7 year old charmer came up to you at the end of a little vacation and said... "my dad left marks on the sheets every night in the hotel, and now we can't go back there." I beg of you, if that ever happens to you, don't judge too quickly. You see, if dad crashes the bike and gets pretty deep road rash on both hips, chances are, his wounds are going to ooze a bit on the sheets. It's not pretty, but at least it's not some of the bodily functions that Curly's statement could have implied. Luckily, he said it to my friend T, who happens to be married to my friend S, another bike racin' fool who has I'm sure oozed on his sheets at some point. And why he decided that we couldn't go back, I don't know.

What would you think if you asked a 10 year old why he decided to be a vegetarian, and he said "because I think it's wrong to eat God's creatures". Again, I beg of you, don't judge too quickly. Don't assume the parents are members of the religious right, who have been indoctrinating their son for the past 10 years. It is possible that the parents are not very religious, only attend church occasionally, and usually forget to say grace before dinner. Although, if that is the case, chances are said parents will burst out in uncomfortable laughter when they hear 10-year old's religious response for the first time, especially if it's at the pediatrician's office and they don't really know the pediatrician well at all. Also, don't assume that said 10-year old has found religion on his own. He may have just come up with what he thinks is a "good answer", for whatever reason, to explain why he is doing something that he himself doesn't really understand.

Gateway to the Midwest

I love the city of St. Louis. I know, it's not exactly an exotic destination. There are no beaches, no mountains, no big city excitement of a Chicago or NY. But I love it just the same. We have gone there every Labor Day for the past four years, of course to attend bike races, but also because it's a fun place to take the kids. I'm trying to do one new thing with them every year that we go, in addition to all of the racing action. Friday night is a party atmosphere with a night race around a beauty of a neighborhood, big old brownstone-types and a gorgeous park in the middle, Lafayette Square. Residents set up garden parties with wine and cheese to watch the races. I drank sangria, mmm. Velo-dude raced while there was still daylight, so we got to watch the drama of the night races as a family. Saturday am was a bummer, velo-dude crashed hard in his race and was pretty beat up for the rest of the weekend, but we still took the kids swimming at the hotel later, did a little shopping, had a great dinner, made the best of it. Sunday velo-dude decided not to race, so no hurries. Had a great leisurely breakfast, went to the zoo, and showed up for the last half of the race day to cheer friends on. Race action was on The Hill, charming Italian neighborhood and again, the neighborhood gets into it. Kids tried Thai food for the first time that night...it went about as well as I expected. Won't be trying that again for a few months (years?), so I'll have to continue to get my Thai fixes with work lunches. Monday was my favorite...downtown St. Louis was bustling. After some hem-haw about racing (more below on that), velo-dude did it, raced strong, finished upright, so a success. Then I took the boys to the arch, went to the top, checked out the museum below, and back to the race venue. By this time the excitement was beginning to brew for Stage 1 of the Tour of Missouri. Okay, I admit it, I get a little starstruck at this. We were able to watch 3 circuits of the 10-circuit race, before deciding we had to get the boys home at a decent time for school the next day. And we'll see the final stage this Sunday, what more could a girl ask for? See, much of the time, I gripe, whine, and poke fun of all the bike racing geekiness that is my husband, but deep down, I have a little of the geek in me as well.

The hem-haw, of which I unwittingly played a role...Sunday night, velo-dude was discussing whether he should try to race Monday. He was reluctant, because he is sporting a very deep knee wound from the crash, and really did not want to go down and damage it more (what with 'cross season looming and all). So, when we see his friend about an hour before the race, J asks why he's not gonna do it, and he hem-haws with an answer, so to facilitate the conversation, I jump in with "he's afraid he's going to do more damage to his knee". Helpful, right? WRONG! WRONG! WRONG! As we walked away from J, he said that if his other friend M wasn't going to take his number and race, he would use it himself, especially after I called him "chicken". . . Huh? Did I miss something? I honestly had to retrace my steps to that unfortunate word choice, "afraid". I could have easily said "he doesn't want to do more damage to his knee", and I think it would have been fine, but the minute I said "afraid", the testosterone kicked in. Yes, he raced alright. I'm going to have to remember this trick; should be able to use some reverse psychology to my advantage the next time I want something. Perhaps I should suggest that the bamboo floor project frightens him? That he is too chicken to open the boxes of flooring that have sat in my dining room for 4+ months? That the nasty stained pressboard floor that proudly shows its ugly face every day in my living/dining rooms is braver than he? Hmm, I'll have to work on it.

In the meantime, have I mentioned that I love St. Louis? And, yes, bike racing?

peace, love, and my boy Pinky

Yesterday was the end of summer, in that the boys went back to school today. So where did we spend that final day? In a minivan, driving for many many hours. Went to Steamboat Springs, CO for a delightful few days with my brother and his s.o. It was very nice to spend some time with him, having fun rather than dealing with the trying events surrounding my father's illness and death. We hiked, biked, fished, etc., all of those fun summer Rocky Mountain activities.

Stopped in the mile high city on the way home to pick up an extra mini-van, so the four of us were in two minivans for most of the day. Pinky started out with me after the pickup, and in keeping with the "no electronics" theme of the vacation, we talked, listened/danced to music, and sometimes just looked around together. It was fun. Next I was alone for a few hours while he joined Curly and velo-dude. And after the next stop, even though Curly announced he was going to watch "Wall-E" on the DVD player, Pinky chose to come with me again. We managed to find a radio station that was celebrating the Woodstock anniversary with some great 70's music, and some not so great but cheesy fun as well. We had a blast listening to that stuff, I told Pinky what I could about the music, about Woodstock, etc. When the station finally started to fade, he asked if we could look for another station that played "that awesome 70's music". We made a pit stop a couple of hours from home, and once again Pinky chose to come with me. We were both getting tired at this point, and couldn't quite find the music we wanted, but it was still all good. At one point when we were talking about his choice to ride with me instead of his brother, he told me that he really wanted to keep me company so I wouldn't be too sleepy and lonely. He is quite a guy, that one. 10 years old just may be my favorite age yet. Despite his announcing in front of some of my friends last week that his 5th grade teacher is "hot". So wrong, in so many ways; oh my, that one stirred up a good mom lecture from me. Pathetic thing about it is, he is just repeating what he's heard other boys at school say. He is so not interested in girls in that way (the "hot" way?). I know it's just around the corner though. And something tells me that when it hits, that will NOT be my favorite age yet.

A break

Have taken a break from writing for a little while. Dad passed away and I am sad, and overwhelmed at what needs to be done. Will resume when I'm not feeling so raw; hopefully that will come soon.

Not-so-random thoughts

1. I love my dad.

2. I hate cancer.

3. Why is it okay, humane even, to put a dog out of its suffering, but Assisted Suicide is only legal in 2 states?

mini-vaca

Velo-dude, Pinky, Curly & I went to the beautiful resort destination of the Quad Cities (southern IA-IL border) for Memorial Day. Big series of bike races, a pretty fun event that we used to hit just about every year. (before kids, that is)

Plan was to leave Friday evening right after work. Well, Friday morning I took a short but violent spill on the stairs at my house, full cup of coffee in hand, and hit the back of my head hard on the stairs. Pretty sure I had a minor concussion, finally felt mostly back to normal on Sunday.

Saturday in Burlington IA, the Snake Alley criterium, my favorite to watch. Velo-dude had a pretty good day, although he wasn't entirely satisfied with it. Spent some time with my boys down by the Mississippi River in the afternoon, here's a pic of them with my favorite Mississippi bridge behind them (truth be told, I haven't seen that many of them, but I still think this would be one of my favorites if I had). Curly is soaking wet due to a romp in the fountain that didn't make it into the picture.

Sunday race was at a truly beautiful park in Muscatine IA. Got to spend some good outdoor time with the boys, if only the city pool in the middle of the park hadn't been tempting us on the hot sunny day, only to be closed. Velo-dude had a migraine, but managed to finish his race, a small victory of sorts. Decided to take a break from fast food on Sunday night, so we sat ourselves down to a decent meal at a well-known chain I'll call...BananaBees. Velo-dude had been eyeing a table tent with a picture of a "mile high pie" on it, and we decided without much thought to order one for the table, with 4 forks. Velo-dude, Pinky, and Curly all dug in, and then I took a bite and immediately froze, recognizing the taste of peanut butter in my mouth. Stopped Curly, who suffers from a significant peanut allergy, from taking any more, and immediately confirmed with server that yes, it contained peanut butter, then talked Curly through it, making sure he was not feeling any danger signs. His eyes were as wide as can be, the poor little guy was FREAKED, as well he should have been. We completely lucked out...the pie truly was a mile high, and his fork never made it to the lower levels where the pb was found. Once we were certain he was not having a reaction, we ordered him a pb-free dessert of his own, and he calmed down. I am still appalled with myself for not having checked first. It is SO rare for us to go out to a sit-down meal, and rarer yet for us to order a dessert. But I am confident that this will put me back on my toes. Was also appalled to note that the epi-pen I had so carefully packed was back in the hotel room, not in my purse, at the time. It must suck to be my kid.

Monday's race venue was not great for the boys. Would have enjoyed watching more racing myself, but we ended up putting up some chairs and reading (or video-gaming if you're Curly) for a few hours. Drove home through lots of rain, got home around 10 pm, not too bad. I'm glad we went, but probably won't do that again for a while. Velo-dude would have more fun with his racer friends anyway, I tell myself.

Reading...I am getting into the habit of reading some of the same things Pinky is reading. It started with the Lightning Thief series earlier this spring, and I actually got into them, I always did have a thing for Greek mythology. But this weekend I couldn't find the book I had started, so I picked up another book Pinky had, and I must say it sucked. "Found". Terrible ending, only sucks you into the next in the series, really cheesy plot at the end, ugh. I read the whole thing Monday at the race and in the car. At least it's a quick read. I have the 4th in the mythology series waiting for me upstairs though, think I'd better go do that before I start studying in earnest again. Also started My Sister's Keeper, but I may have to put that one on hold for a while. I wish I could read guilt-free, instead of feeling like I should be studying all the time.

Way better than raindrops on roses...

THESE are a few of my favorite things...and oddly enough, even the clipboard that snuck into the picture is one of my favorite things...I love the two-toned wood. So, the reason for the pic is that after a too-eventful day, a cosmo was in order. Why was it too eventful, you ask? For starters, took a professional exam thingy this morning (4 hours of the morning, anyway), and it did not go well. I knew I was not well-prepared going in, since I had started serious studying way too late in the game, but I was frustrated at how poorly things went even on the topics I thought I did know well. Checked a discussion board tonight and found I was not alone...even the well-prepared peeps were extremely unhappy about the exam. Even though the bar has apparently been lowered, I am certain I'll be back at it in 6 months. Ugh. But, at least I feel like I know where to go when I start back up, so hopefully I'll get 'er next time.

I got to take the rest of the day off (the company knows you'll be worthless if you go back to work after that), so the afternoon actually was uneventful. Did a little shopping and a half-hearted attempt at picking up the house (not cleaning mind you, just picking up). When velo-dude got home we decided he should mow the lawn while Curly and I went to pick up some dinner, and that's when the excitement really picked up. We got the food, and were almost home (within feet of the house) when I stopped at a stop sign, waiting to turn left and another quick left into my driveway. As I waited, I saw the car facing me pull out into the intersection, and right into the path of a large pickup truck. I wanted to tell him to stop, but I couldn't figure out how, so I just had to watch the whole thing in slow-mo, as the truck t-boned him HARD on the passenger side and his car spinned a bit and slid sideways, closer and closer to me, thankfully stopping about 2 feet from my front end. Yikes. Since we were essentially in front of our house, Velo-dude and Pinky came running out after hearing the big crunch sound, as did a whole lot of our neighbors. The ensuing helping out of those involved, submitting statements, chatting with the neighbors we never see, and the boys wanting to watch till both cars got towed away, lasted over an hour. Luckily it was the ONE night of the week when we had no activities or other commitments. Scary stuff. The passenger was the only one hurt, but I think it was not too serious, a hit to the head which is hopefully not a big one, and banged up a bit. The driver at fault was a high school kid, and I wanted to hug him, he was so shaken up. When his dad finally got there he was all matter of fact and let's get this business taken care of , and I felt like screaming "for the love of Pete, just give your kid a hug!" He finally did get hugs from the mom of the kid that got hurt, once she was done in the ambulance with hers.

So, now that the intense studying is over (for a while), I'm going to try to get back into writing every once in a while. I've had plenty of stories to tell, but I've been hesitant to write about my trivialities when I've got good friends dealing with some really serious shit right now. But I know that's not right, and I also know that if I were dealing with things half as serious as they are right now, I'd probably want some diversions. So, divert I will, when I can carve out the time.

And now, I think I hear the second half of that beautiful steel shaker calling my name.

The domestic goddess is...

velo-dude. Last month it was the dinosaur cookies for Curly's birthday. This month it's the spaceship cake for the Cub Scout cake decorating contest. The boys designed it and decorated it once it was frosted, but hats off to velo-dude for taking the design and cutting the cake out in the perfect shape, and then frosting cut cake without making a huge crumby mess of it (which I would most certainly have done). Velo-dude has a much better story to tell of said cake making activity (if you don't care to hear about a bicycle training race, scroll down through the first part of this entry).

So, speaking of linking to the hubby's site, I have pretty much abandoned hope of anonymity with this blog, even though I'll continue to go through the motions. Velo-dude doesn't see any need for anonymity, and has mentioned me by name in his blog. I've told him not to do that, so he no longer does, but then he posts a picture with me in it. (head hits wall) Oh, but he did make the effort to start referring to me as something other than my real name. And the term of endearment he chose? "The wifely one". Huh? I can't put my finger on it, but I don't like it. Maybe it sounds matronly to me.

Finally, here's the only good thing about having a fever earlier this week (well, other than missing a day of work, but since I spent it in bed, it wasn't all that great). One of my many fever-induced dreams involved me shooting a movie with Sean Connery. I was just my plain old self, but had happened to land a gig as his co-star in an action flick (ok peeps, quit yer laffin now!). What I remember of the dream was very brief, but I had the fever in my dream, while shooting the movie as well, and at one point he had to grab me in a scene, and do you know what he said? (think of your best Sean Connery impression here...) "You're hot". And he was referring to my fever. Of course. Although it took me a moment to figure that out. I woke up right after that happened, and as crappy as I felt, I smiled at the cornball humor of my dream.

FB, I guess I do like you

Yes, that's Facebook I'm talking to. In the past week I have reconnected with a cousin that I have not kept in touch with for years, ditto for a fave friend from high school, and then today I got something from a childhood friend I knew while living across the country, and haven't kept in touch with for ages!

Yes, there are people that contact me that I really don't have much to say to, but some of these unexpected little gems are really nice!

Pinky Drops the F-bomb

Yes, that’s right, my nine year old. Not feeling like a great parent right now. Here’s the story (warning--long post ahead--I was never very good at editing)

Yesterday, I picked up the boys from After School Care, and Pinky hesitantly said it was not a good day for him. He sounded frustrated, some run-in with a 3rd grader in after care. He didn’t really want to get into it, but the teachers didn’t know about it so I dropped it for later. He has a project he is working on at home right now, a “book publishing”. They worked on writing a book about themselves at school, typing in the text on the computer, then the artwork for each page is to be done at home. Then it gets sent to a company that “publishes” it, so it looks like a real book. Cool idea. We are a little behind, it’s due Thursday so after dinner I was pushing him to get a few pictures done. He messed up a letter on the cover page, in crayon, and it’s special paper of which he does not have extra, so this was frustrating for him. I tried to help give him ideas for fixing it, but he started to shut down on me. Velo-dude, the more artistic of the two of us, stepped in with some suggestions, but he got even more frustrated. I told him to go up to his room and calm down (I didn’t want him doing permanent damage to the cover page with a temper tantrum) before working on it again. Meanwhile, I noticed that my iPod was on, and was playing a Reel Big Fish song that was repeating the phrase “I don’t f*cking care, I don’t f*ucking care, I don’t f*ucking care, I don’t f*cking care”. I wanted to run over and shut it off, but I chose instead to try to address Pinky and his problem. Velo-dude was in the kitchen as well, and as I sent Pinky upstairs he ran in and changed the song (Bad Parenting Exhibit 1--I have a few third wave ska bands on my iPod, it’s a sound I’ve always liked, and Reel Big Fish even has a parental warning, but I usually don’t play it for the family. But, I kind of forgot about that particular song). Anyway, Pinky came down a few minutes later and apologized to velo-dude for getting frustrated when he was trying to help. Velo-dude resumed help-mode but Pinky immediately got frustrated all over again. Velo-dude said “fine, I’m done” and walked away (I had already done pretty much the same thing, the first time around). Pinky was getting all worked up again, so I again told him he needed to go to his room to cool down. He blew a gasket, left the dining room and out of my eyesight, then reappeared on his way upstairs, stomping, red in the face, hands pulling on his hair, and yelled at the top of his lungs “I AM SO F*CKING FRUSTRATED!!!!”, stomped up the stairs and slammed the door. Velo-dude and I looked at each other with mouths dropped, then did what any sane, rational, and responsible parent would do…laugh. Quietly, of course, so he wouldn’t hear, but laughed pretty hard (that was Bad Parenting Exhibit 2). Don’t get me wrong, I do NOT think a 4th grader using the f-bomb is good stuff, but part of it was shock, part of it knowing that I was at fault for letting the song play, part of it thinking about how good/bad that must have made him feel to be so daring to say that. This kid is a pleaser, and NEVER gets in trouble at school. Very uncharacteristic of him. In fact, I have another song on my iPod that repeats the phrase “g*d d*mn”, and if it accidentally comes on in a shuffle, Pinky will come running from any room in the house, change the song, and say “that was the bad word song, Mom” (was that Bad Parenting Exhibit 3, or can I include that with Exhibit 1?).

Back to the action…I went up and talked to him after a cool-down period. He finally said that he was very worried about the Kansas Assessment Test the next day at school. His teacher had made a very big deal about it, told the kids how important it was to the district that they do their best, etc. Stupid flippin’ standardized tests! I hate them, and the fact that school district funding is tied to them! I know, I understand the pros and cons, at least to a point, but I don’t like it and I never have. And I realize that the state of Kansas is in a major budget crisis, so this year feels even more important. But give me a break, they are 4th graders! I really like his teacher this year, but, to quote a fine young man I know, “I am so f*cking frustrated” with her right now for laying this on so thick.

In the end, Pinky did not get a punishment. But he does realize that if I hear that word come out of his mouth again, there will be punishment, and it will be severe. No punishment because I don’t think it will happen again any time soon. How often does the Perfect Storm brew? This was it… the Assessment Test stress, the finality of messing up on the cover of your first published book, and the f*cking song burning in your ears during all of that stress. I feel bad for the kid. I know it’s possible that he will become a habitual 4th-grade-f-bomb-dropper and I will have to eat my words, but I really don’t think so.

Oh and by the way, once the storm blew over, we were able to salvage the cover of his book and it’s going to look just fine.

P.S. Do you remember the first time you cursed, and meant it? I think I was in the 4th grade also. Very dissatisfying it was, all I could manage to blurt out was "b*tch", and that was to a boy who had knocked me down on the playground. What can I say, I choked, but I've improved over the years. First time I cursed in front of a parent? Quite honestly, I think it was less than a year ago, it slipped out, and my dad was so surprised, HE laughed. Yep, I was the pleaser in my family.

Bad hostess?

Last night we had two houseguests. I'd never met either of them before, but I was happy to let them stay. In town for a bike race, as most of my houseguests are. Velo-dude knows the guy, I think they ride for the same team. All I knew about them was it was a guy from his team, and his girlfriend. College age. I didn't analyze the situation. They arrived a little before dinner time and I had made a lasagna. They were sweet, rather shy and quiet at first as we did intros and some chitchat. I showed them the guest room, they cleaned up etc. Then while the lasagna was still baking I decided I needed a quick shower (still had the smell of the pancake breakfast lingering on me from early in the day, yuk). While in the shower, I suddenly panicked. I hadn't questioned whether they would want to share a room, I simply assumed they would. I didn't even know how long they had been together. Yikes, what if I had thrown them into an awkward situation? Once done I called velo-dude to the kitchen to quietly ask what he thought. His response? Well, you could either ask them point blank if they sleep together, or you could just throw them into a den of iniquity and hope they don't mind, or ... but basically he was saying "YOU could", as in, HE wanted nothing to do with any conversation I might have with them about it.

Well, once we sat to dinner I gave them the twenty questions about where they were from, what they were studying, when they would graduate, HOW LONG HAVE YOU TWO BEEN TOGETHER, etc. (slipped it in all subtle-like, of course), and they said about a year. Good enough for me, so I dropped it. I was too squeamish to ask if they preferred one room or two (two would have been fine, Pinky's sheets were clean and he slept in the top bunk in Curly's room anyway, like he often does on weekends). Squeamish as in, I hate awkward moments. So better that they have an awkward moment (or night) between the two of them, than I have an awkward moment asking, right? Bad hostess? Yep.

Well, hopefully it was all okay for them. It could have worked both ways I guess. They could have been wondering whether we would LET them sleep in the same room together, since we are (gulp) old enough to be their parents. OMG, that just made me feel a little queasy. Should I have not LET them? Holy crap, this is way too complicated.

I still remember a little trip Velo-dude and I took long ago (bike race, of course). We met up with a friend of ours whose parents lived in that town, and being on a college budget, decided to stay with his family to save on hotel. The mom showed us the guestroom and I was thinking to myself "wow, she is really going to let us sleep in the same room!". I pulled our friend aside afterward and asked if this was really okay, or if it was uncomfortable for his parents. He looked at me like I was crazy, then said "Um, mathgeek, I'm pretty sure I was at your wedding two weeks ago. I think they're okay with it". Yep, I had forgotten we were actually married.

Finally, thank goodness for the college students being here. Because velo-dude and I pulled one of our stupidest moves ever. Set the clocks back, one by one, before going to bed (everyone else had already gone upstairs). This morning we all get up, eat breakfast, chat, drink coffee, etc. Eventually they say they need to get going to the races, and comment that it's already 9:40. Well, I try to correct them that it is really 7:40, since time changed last night. I get the "are you crazy?" look (I get that a lot), although a little more polite since they barely know me, and they are my guests, and I'm old enough to be their parents, etc. I pause to think, recite "spring forward fall behind" out loud, think again, and realize that yes indeedy, it is 9:40. My, how time flies when you're clueless.

Bits

No big news in my life right now, just some bits and pieces...

1) Wii Fit and I are still bff's. I am doing it pretty regularly (I've skipped 4 days in a row a couple of times and got scolded). I know it is not the key to truly getting fit, but it is motivating me to do more than sit on the couch right now, so it's good. Two lbs. down, a gazillion to go.

2) Scoutsuck continues. Must find a way to step down from one of my responsibilities with the Pack.

3) Still liking my new job. I have come home pretty grouchy on several occasions, but I know why and I think it will continue to get better. While I was miserable with my old job, I knew what I knew, knew what I didn't know, and just plodded along getting the job done as best I could*. I felt like I was doing a good job, for the situation I was in, with virtually no guidance or mentorship. With the new job, I frequently run into things I just don't get, and it makes me feel stupid. I'm not used to that feeling, at least not at work. Frustrating, but I am catching on and in a few months I am sure I will feel much more comfortable with it. I have a strong need to believe I am adding value, and I'm not there yet.

* Is it my imagination, or has this phrase changed recently, from "as best I could" to "as best as I could"? I seem to be hearing the latter frequently, and I really could swear that it did not used to be that way. Should that second "as" really be there? I don't think so, but I could be wrong. Really, help me out folks, cuz it's one of the little things that drive me crazy (and I know my readers, all 3 of you, are wordsmiths).

4) Pinky and Curly are winding down a month of indoor swim lessons. Pinky? No worries, he likes to swim and is learning flip turns, although there is some other term for them that I was not familiar with and which escapes me at the moment. Curly? Ahh, Curly. Have you ever had a kid get kicked out of swim class? We almost did. Even got a call from the pool manager one day. However, we took him swimming the weekend after "the incident" (Curly being pulled screaming and kicking from the pool by Velo-dude, during class), and after lots of coaxing, cajoling, whining, balking, etc on all of our parts, I simply said, "okay, I'm going to the whirlpool. If you try the float you can come with me". He did it, no problem. Then he grabbed a kickboard and started using it properly, head in blow bubbles, head out breathe, kicking all the while. WTF? The kid knows how to do it all, he just refuses to do it unless he's darn good and ready. He does have a pretty hefty fear, but he knows what to do. So, last week went better. Took him today and he was having an off day again. We'll see if he makes it through his last 2 classes this week. Not passes the class, mind you. We already know that won't happen. But makes it through without another incident? THAT will be a success.

5) To my 2-3 readers...some bumpy times going on there. I hope things get better for all of you, soon. Rowan? Please tell me things are better than last week. If they are not, might have to jump in my car and come see what I can do to help. Really. I will. Laggin? We need to do lunch, or an evening with adult refreshments. Dibs/Moving Mom? I'm checking daily for updates on your site. Yikeys, I know my turn will come with the heavy stuff, but for now all I can do is let you all know I'm here if you need me!

6) I still have no time for Facebook.

belated birthday present

Last night, out of the blue, Pinky walked downstairs and presented me with a Wii Fit, the one and only thing I requested for my birthday (yes, that was over a month ago). Velo-dude has been stopping by a Target near his place of employment on and on for over a month, and finally scored one. I got myself set up last night, a little mortifying but I'm okay I guess, gives me motivation to make some progress. My Fit Age (or whatever it was my new bff called it) was 46, 2 years older than my real age. Okay, not great but not terrible. Pinky is apparenty 15 years old (he's 9, folks) and Curly, who had some major trouble with the balance test, came in at the ripe old age of 23 (he's 6). Here's the kicker though. Velo-dude, who happens to be 5 years older than me, came in at 11 years younger than me. He sucks. My new bff sucks. Being old and out of shape sucks. Motivation, motivation.

I have apparently gotten over my anger, because one night after getting it, I am hooked. Let's hope this love affair lasts.

scoutsuck

Scouting also appears to be sucking the good taste out of me. I am sorry to laggin and anyone else who may have viewed my purple and green nightmare of the past two days. This isn't flashy but I had to get that color scheme off in a hurry.

This is what I do for fun?

Last night was a cub scout banquet. The older boys "cross over" to boy scouts; it's a pretty big deal for some of them. My boys are not there yet, but most of the boys go to the banquet regardless of age.




There is usually some part of the ceremony involving fire, but apparently one year that we did NOT go, they almost caught the stage curtains at the middle school on fire. I would have to miss the most exciting one! So this year, we left it to the "professionals". Yep folks, that's a fire eater. See that little light in his mouth? He just ate fire, and is about to light one of his other wands with the fire that is in his mouth. Yikes. He also fancied himself a comedian. Very cheeseball, but the scouts loved it, and yes, I do realize that's what matters. Here are a couple more. Pinky is on the far left with the tan shirts; Curly is second from right, back row, with the blue shirts. (Yeah, I'll never be mistaken for a photographer)





Sometimes I feel like Cub Scouts is slowly sucking the life out of me.

Great day for the nation, so-so for me

I wasn't able to enjoy any of this historical day. I am in full stress/panic at work as the month winds down and I wonder how I am going to get everything done. My friend L went to her daughter's elementary school as she does every Tuesday to eat lunch with her, and got to see the tail end of some coverage on tv in the classroom. She said the kids were really excited and into it (3rd grade), belting out the National Anthem and all. How cool would that have been. Pinky and Curly seemed pretty excited that they got to watch too. I hope that just a little bit, they "got it", rather than viewing it as merely an opportunity to watch tv at school. I didn't get an opportunity to have a good talk with them about it though. I got home from work and it was time to take off. We dropped Curly off at my friend's house, and Pinky and I, my friend and her 4th grade boy went to the memorial service for the boy who killed himself last week. I think I actually had some unrealistic notion that because they called it a "celebration of life", somehow it was not going to be as sad as it was. But of course it was horribly sad. I have written, erased, rewritten, and re-erased more thoughts on this, but I think I just need to stop. Think I'll go look for some coverage on the day's events, and try to bring some optimism back into my little world.

heartbreak

When I expressed my dismay at having been talked into both blogging and Facebook with no time for either, Rowan gave me the sound advice of using the blog only when I have a story to tell, and using Facebook for more frequent and quick communication. I am doing a little bit of neither, but tonight I find myself in need of a quick unload.

Tuesday night was 4th grade Strings concert. Pinky and his classmates did a delightful job, I was quite emotional at seeing him up there, dressed in his first tie, plucking and bowing his way through his songs. I quite love the sound of the viola, and wish I had taken the time to learn an instrument other than the piano when I was younger.

That was the highlight of my week. Yesterday the boys came home with sealed manila envelopes from the school to give to their parents. Inside was a letter informing us that an 8th grader that was at our elementary school two years ago had passed away; counselors would be available at the school the following day to help students process this information, but the school wanted to let the parents know beforehand so that they could decide how to break the news. There were no details, which made breaking the news to young ones even a bit more difficult with the unanswered questions. The sibling attends our elementary school. I do not know the family personally, but my heart ached for them all that night. Driving home from work tonight, I started thinking about it again, realizing that there was probably more information now. And when I got home, my fears were confirmed; this child took his own life. This is too real and too close to home. I am heartbroken, for this child and the angst suffered, for the family, for the friends. I must go hug my babes tight, and try to make sure they always know they can talk to me.