Thursday, June 30, 2011

Public Prayer

I attended a local civic group's meeting yesterday. My husband and I were guests because our son won a scholarship from this group. They had a very nice lunch and a very short, sweet and to the point meeting. I'm slightly familiar with this group because the school where I teach works with them on a character education program for our students. Oh, whatever, I'll just tell you: it was the Rotary Club. Anyhow, I'm not much of a "joiner" and neither is my husband. Besides the kids getting scholarships, I may have been the youngest person there. They had many little traditions and things that if you hadn't been there, you were clueless as to what they were doing. However, I think that's true of most groups, including churches. We were just very grateful and proud of our son, so I was prepared to deal with anything.

I was pleasantly surprised. It's not like I expected anyone to be rude or anything. Quite the opposite. They were all very welcoming, polite and kind. We were personally greeted by almost every member who came up to us, introduced themselves, we spoke briefly, and all in all, it was a very nice experience with total strangers. I did know one member, as I taught her son. I find it very gratifying to run into people like that. Well, if they like me, I enjoy it. At any rate, they did what most clubs do. They said the Pledge of Allegiance to the US flag and also the Texas pledge, and there was a prayer at the beginning. Now, anytime anyone attempts to "pray" publicly, I usually get uncomfortable, perhaps annoyed, maybe slightly angry. Remember, I'm not Christian. I don't pray to Jesus, and most people around here do. I understand that. I am all in favor of everyone worshiping as they see fit, as long as they don't force it on me. For God's sake, I attended a Southern Baptist university! Chapel attendance was mandatory every week! Clearly, I can handle being the "odd man out" at a religious service. If I am attending a service like that, I am respectful of the people and the church or hall or whatever, and I stand and bow and pray in my own way. So, when they said they were going to pray, I prepared myself for anger. However, this is how the man began:
"Please join me in giving thanks in whatever unique way you choose.." I thought that was perfection. He never mentioned Jesus until the very end. I was expecting to hear, "In Jesus' name WE pray, Amen." He didn't do that, though. He said, "I Jesus' name I pray, Amen." He stressed the "I" in the sentence. In other words, he was praying to Jesus, but he understood not everyone was. It was a very nice, heartfelt, thoughtful prayer. He gave thanks for the food, the fact that everyone was healthy and alive in the room. He gave thanks for the availability of the facilities they were using, he gave thanks for the fact that he woke up that day, and said although everything was unknown, even whether or not he'd live to see nightfall, he was thankful for what he had been given. All in all, a very good prayer, in my opinion. I appreciated it greatly. I may even have appreciated that more than the money they were kind enough to give my child for college. Believe me, I am DAMNED thankful for that, too!

Too often, I am placed in a position where I am asked to bow my head and pray to Jesus. I cannot, in good conscience, so that. It goes against my entire belief system. I have no problem with anyone ELSE doing it, just don't expect me to do it. I have been in many situations where I am asked to "offer thanks to Jesus". No. I am sorry, I cannot do that. Other times, Jesus is mentioned so often throughout the prayer that I want to walk out. However, I try to be respectful and just do my own thing without interfering with their prayer. Many times, Jesus isn't even brought up until the very end when they say, "In Jesus' name we pray". Then, I feel almost like I was tricked into betraying my own faith.

If I were to be asked to lead a prayer, first of all, I probably would decline, because that to me is exceptionally personal and private. If someone asks for prayers for a sicked friend or loved one, I do pray for them. However, it is important to remember that there are many ways to pray, and not everyone prays in the same way. Many people who know me probably think I don't believe in prayer. However, I firmly believe in the power of sincere prayer. I pray all the time, I just don't make a show of it.

So, I just wanted to let the Rotary Club of Killeen know how appreciative I was in more than one way for yesterday's meeting.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

The Love of a Mother....

Allow me to preface this with a VERY STRONGLY WORDED DECLARATION: I love my Mother. She is the most awesome mother EVER. She LOVES ME WITH ALL HER HEART AND SOUL AND READS THIS BLOG.

Okay. Now down to business. Today I was speaking with my mother on the telephone. We were talking about a rodent problem she discovered under her kitchen sink, which by the way made me laugh hysterically...but..anyhow..enough of the elipsisees or whatever. So, I hate to talk on the phone. EVER. To anyone. I really don't enjoy it at all. I also don't answer the door. That is neither here nor there, but basically, I don't like to communicate in person or via my voice, I guess. This is ironic considering my occupation, actually.

So, I had reached the end of my rope with telephonic patience, and I said, "Okay, so, I love you, bye." I hear my Mom say, "Wait! Don't go!" Damn. So here is our conversation from that point onward:
Me: What?
Mom: Don't go! I want to talk to you!
Me: About what?
Mom: Well, nothing. I just like to talk to you!
Me: No you don't.
Mom: OF COURSE I DO! HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?!?!?! (she is quite dramatic)
Me: You say I'm "not nice" all the time.
Mom: I DO NOT! (she was beginning to hyperventilate at this point..it doesn't take much..)
Me: Ha! Yes, you do! You also say I'm "foul" and other things.
Mom: Well, you ARE.
Me: See???
Mom: I think you are the most wonderful girl ever!!! How could you doubt that?
Me: Because you just said I am foul.
Mom: Well, I didn't teach you that!
Me: Hey, did you read the thing about Sanford's reunion and the song list for the DJ?
Mom: Oh Lord, Yes!!!! It was SO funny! You are so funny! You just kill me! I can just see you now...all prissy trying to be nice at that reunion!
Me: .....
Mom: Hahah! Ha. Ha?
Me: What do you mean "prissy"?
Mom: Oh, you know. You priss around all the time when you are trying to be elegant and nice.
Me: I do NOT PRISS! What the hell? PRISS???? I don't EFFIN'(only I said the "eff" word. To my mother. I know, I know...) PRISS!
Mom: See? You are being foul. How can you say that word?
Me: You don't even LIKE me! See??
Mom: I LOVE YOU! HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT???
Me: Okay, so I'm going now.
Mom: What? No! I want to talk to you!
Me: Do you have a topic you wish to discuss?
Mom: No, I just like talking to you.

....and repeat.

PS: If anyone spots any grammatical errors, mispellings, etc., please feel free to tell me. Edit away. Seriously.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Why I don't like to go to the "LADY" doctor

Okay. I am a little wigged out. Today, I happened to have the television on during the day. This isn't the norm for me. I am usually at work, for one thing, but it's summer, and I was folding clothes or something and so the TV was on. It was on a program called "Dr. Oz" or some such nonsense.

Now, don't go and tell me how awesome this "Dr." is. I don't give a rat's ass at this point. Why? Because he scared the living SHIT out of me. Here is what he did: He comes out in his scrubs as if he just came out of a life saving heart operation or something. He looks concerned. Very concerned. I think to myself, "Wow, dramatic much, dude?" I keep one eye and ear on the TV to see what Marcus Welby MD is going to cure today, and keep folding clothes. Well, it turns out the good DOCTOR is QUITE concerned about a problem that a full 50% of women have. A FULL FIFTY PERCENT OF US WOMEN HAVE THIS UNSPECIFIED, BUT HORRIBLE PROBLEM!! Aren't you the least bit panicked, yet? Well, you BETTER be. You damned well BETTER BE!!! The doctor sure as shit is. He informed me (and I was riveted to the TV now. I'm a stupid sucker.) that a FULL FIFTY PERCENT OF WOMEN TODAY (in case you didn't catch that earlier) have a problem where things are tumbling out of their...you knowwhat. Their hoo hoo. Their whatsit. Their "virginnies" as an old hillbilly lady called it.

Nothing has ever fallen out of mine. Nothing has ever tumbled, slid, slithered or fallen out. Well, unless you count two babies. But I certainly wouldn't characterize those situations as "sliding" or "tumbling". No. Not at all.
Anyhow. Back to the show. The doctor is going on and on about how women are too afraid and ashamed to even tell their doctors about this. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but my DOCTOR should NOTICE if something was in my VAGINA that shouldn't be there, right?

So far, the weirdest thing I've ever had happen to me during an exam was having the doctor mutter from underneath the sheet he had over my spread knees, "You been out in the bushes lately?"
Um...what the hell sort of question is that from anyone, let alone a gynecologist whilst he is probing around down there?
I replied, "What? Bushes? What? Huh? No! Why? Why did you ask me that?"

He sighed from beneath the sheet, I looked over at the nurse who was repeatedly patting my hand telling me to breathe (seriously? I'm not giving birth, I'm getting an exam..relax, nurse!) and the doctor's head popped up and looked at me. Much as a baby, when you think about it. However he said, "You have mosquito bites on your legs...I thought maybe you'd been out camping or something...you don't want to get lyme disease from ticks or anything..." then he sighed, he PRACTICALLY rolled his eyes and dove back down there. I thought I had twigs or something down there. I was traumatized.

So, that was the worst, besides have a human come out, which wasn't bad, it was miraculous and wonderful and the most pain I've ever been in in my whole entire life, and yes I remember ever single second of it. It was worth it. Yada yada. I figured if OTHER weird things were down there, a doctor would have told me. But no. Nothing. Everything normal. Until today. I panicked. Dr. Freakin' Oz tells me that there is a fifty-fifty chance that I have my uterus, bladder and rectum coming out of my virginnie.

I have a wonderful husband, thank God. I ran to him hollering to come watch this show. He came in, sat down and immediately got a very concerned look on his face.

"What?!!? What?!?!? Is there something wrong with me down there??? Have you felt something weird???" He shushed me because he was INTO what the doctor was saying. I was running around freaking out trying not to let my teenaged son know what was going on, and if you are one of my three teenaged children, close this window now and read no further, it will scar you for life. Similarly, if you are my parent or other relative, read no further! Trust me!

So, finally, I got my husband's attention during the commercial break. The visual demonstration the doctor provided sorta freaked him out, too. The doctor had constructed a large rectangular prism on it's end. It was bright red and covered with something like what balloons are made of...what...latex? Oh Jesus...like condoms...so yeah. It was very stretchy material. One side was labeled: "Bladder", the opposite side was labeled "Rectum", and the very top was labeled "Uterus". The big red thing? OH, that....that was just the VAGINA. He had a volunteer from the audience come up. (Who the HELL WOULD VOLUNTEER TO WALK UP TO THAT HUGE FAKE VAGINA???) He had her press against the side labeled "Bladder". "Keep pushing...go ahead..push through..." She did. She busted through the wall INTO THE FAKE VAGINA. Score! Wait. No. Bad. Not good. However, the audience clapped and got excited. What the hell? It wasn't over though. Then, he moved the hapless volunteer over to the "Rectum" side. Again, he urged her to push on through..push on through to the other side. Which she did. With gusto. yay! No. Not yay. Not good. The rectum does not belong in there. Since the doctor couldn't get her to climb on top of the big red fake vagina, he threw...get this...he threw..no..he LOBBED a BOWLING BALL on to the top. A handy camera mounted up there showed how the bowling ball created a HUGE BULGE into the fake red latex vagina. It looked as though it would be quite uncomfortable.

I was hysterical by this time. I asked my husband if he would mind checking things out....you know...down there. Being the good sport he is, he said, "Sure..lemme get the flashlight.." I stood there as he scurried off wondering how I had come to this point in my life. He came running back in with a HUGE HALOGEN flashlight. I think it is supposed to be used for car mechanics or something. Honestly. I felt like I should explain...I said, "You know, I don't LOOK down there...how weird would that be?" and he said, "Don't worry, I'll check it out...". So he did. Right there. He calmed me down, told me everything was fine. I still made an appointment with my Virginnie doctor. It's been awhile, after all. I thanked my husband profusely. I asked him if he was sure it was all A-OK down there..and he assured me it was. He then went back to whatever it was he had been doing before my meltdown.

Lessons learned: Don't watch Dr. Oz. Don't compare a vagina to a big red balloon. Have a good husband who will get out a big flashlight to check your hoo hoo and not jump your bones because he knows this isn't some weird assed come on. He recognizes true freak out mode when he sees it. He pats your knee afterward and gives you reassurance. Next week? Who the hell knows what he'll do? Anyhow, make your yearly appointment with your Gynecologist. Don't skip it. The repercussions could be catastrophic. You don't want your rectum or bladder or God forbid your uterus IN your vagina.
PS, If you are male, you may disregard all of the above. Unless you love a woman with a vagina. Then, encourage her to NOT watch Dr. Oz, and go get herself checked out.
You're welcome vaginas of the world. If you want more info, here is the link
http://www.doctoroz.com/blog/lauren-streicher-md/uterine-prolapse-risks-symptoms-and-treatment"

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Product Review: Clairisonic Opal

I told you guys I'd be reviewing products again, so here I am.

Okay, let me preface this by saying that I love all products by the people who created the SonicCare toothbrush. I use it three times a day, MINIMUM. I use the Clairisonic Facial Brush twice a day. I've done a review on that.

For Christmas this year, I got the Clairisonic Opal. This handy little device also utilizes the "sonic" technology that the other products use.

With the Opal, you get a small hand held device with a removable cap. The cap has a small tube that dispenses the "serum" that you apply to your skin. The device itself has a small silicone cup where you place the serum. You then place the silicone cup on your face(usually areas of concern, such as crow's feet), turn on the button and begin moving the device in small circular motions around the area. The serum is theoretically forced further into your dermis, thus plumping up your skin. This is accomplished through the "sonic" vibrations of the device. Now, I don't know how possible this is, but it seems to work. I've been using it for several months, and have noticed a definite reduction in fine lines around my eyes, between my eyes above my nose and smile lines around my mouth. To be honest, I also get Botox, but using this in addition to that has made a tremendous difference in the appearance of wrinkles on my face.

Recently, the company's literature has said that the Opal can be used all over the face, and so I've been using it more on my forehead, and around my lips, as well. Another improvement the company has made is that the serum is now available in bottles, instead of $90.00 caps that are plastic and you end up throwing away frequently. This cuts down on the amount of wasted materials, which is a good thing. Also, with the bottle of serum, you can accurately gauge how much you have left, and when you need to buy some more. With the cap, you pushed a button and everything was fine until one day you would push the button and....nada. No serum left, and you had no way of knowing it until it was too late.

The price of the Opal is a little bit steep. It runs over $200.00. For a woman in her mid-forties, I consider it worth it. I take very good care of my skin, and so far, it's paying off. Yes, I get help from Botox and sometimes fillers such as Juvederm, but overall, I depend on my daily cleaning regimen. I couldn't achieve the same results without my Clairisonic products. I highly recommend them to everyone. As a matter of fact, I bought an extra facial brush for my son to help combal teenage acne. After two treatments, his face is smooth as when he was a baby. There is no escaping the results. This company's products work. I consider the price reasonable and well worth it.

I did take before and after pictures of my eye area for comparison for the Opal. I will post those soon. The pictures are taken between Botox treatments. Botox had no part in the results.

Monday, June 20, 2011

My day in HELL, otherwise known as the Killeen City Court Annex

So, yeah...I got a ticket. Big whoop. The cop wasn't what I'd call a sweetheart, either. He actually asked me how much I WEIGHED. I told him, "Well, I'm going to lie to you.." and he shrugged, so I said, "100 pounds". He wrote it on the ticket.

Anyhow, I of course, opted to take Defensive Driving online as it was the most convenient. The course almost killed me with boredom, but "easy" is not an apt name for it. It was stupid easy.

Example Question and answer choices: You are scanning the roadway 12 seconds ahead of you to watch out for possible problems. You are no less than 2 seconds behind the vehicle in front of you. You have been checking your mirrors, and you have a good cushion of safety around you. What should you do?
A. Continue driving, while using your safe driving strategies.
B. Apply lipstick in the visor mirror
C. Speed up.
D. Get out a map and check your route while driving.
I'm sorta surprised one of the choices wasn't, "Shoot off your nine millimeter out the window, as you light up your crack pipe! Fuck the cops!"

See? So, then I had to take the paperwork BACK to the City court annex for the oh....I don't know 50th time. You walk in and feel like you are in a jail waiting room. It's ..well...full of unsavory people. Of course, I was there, so I suppose I am just as unsavory. At any rate, you take a number, sit your ass down and wait. There are four windows available. Two of which had their blinds drawn indicating they didn't give a shit about the 40 people sitting there waiting, and we could suck it. They only needed a sign that said, "Suck it" to go along with their "No Cell phone" sign and their, "Do not approach window until called" and various other signs telling you what they will NOT do for you.
I took a number. I was number 6. Awesome! Wrong. They were on number 89. They had to get to 100, then start over. So I was WAAY far from being called. People usually leave because they get tired of waiting, but I had all the time in the world, so I waited. I swear every time one of the clerks looked at me, they hated my ass because I was patiently waiting. Plus, I was not using my cellphone or approaching windows without being called, I might add.
Unlike my fellow miscreants, I did not used foul language, as it is rude and I didn't know them and there were children present. I didn't compare my tattoos with the various people there who were, ACTUALLY doing that. Total strangers. I didn't talk about body piercing, either. I sat. I waited. Patiently. Well, my leg was bouncing, but that is just me. I watched one guy walk up to the window when his number was called, and less than 2 minutes later, a cop appeared, handcuffed him and took him away. I'm still all excited about that and want to know what the hell was going on!
There was a "Most Wanted" poster up on the all. Fine. We need to know what the criminals look like. However, one thing bothered me. As I was sitting there...patiently, mind you...a man and what appeared to be a female of our species came in. She was wearing her pajamas, and her hair had NOT been combed in a VERY long time. His boxers were a merry blackwatch plaid. We all got treated to that sight. Thank you, Mr. Anonymous Boxer Short man. What these two did is what creeped me out, though. They didn't take a number. At which point I almost stood up and hollered, "Nuh uh! You take a number, Asshole! We ALL took our numbers, you aren't special!", but then I checked myself. I could have been killed.

Anyhow, these two people walked up to the "Most Wanted" pictures, seemed to be searching, and then the guy said, "There he is!" and stabbed his finger really hard on some asshole criminal's face. Then, he LAUGHED. The alleged female cackled and said, "Well, I'll be damned!" and they continued to stand and stare at the picture. Get this...they stared with PRIDE. Then, they left. That was all they were there for.

Meanwhile, I sat. Waited, sat and minded my own business. I broke no rules. I made as little eye contact with people as possible, as I seem to attract freaks, and end up in a weird conversation about religion or something. Believe me, it's never a good thing.

I waited for...get this..1 1/2 hours. Yep. I had ALL OF MY SHIT READY, too. I didn't have to dig around in my purse to get anything, I didn't have to run out to the car to get anything, I was freakin' READY, unlike the jackholes I was waiting with. They evidently didn't get the memo that you should not walk at a snail's pace when people are waiting on you, and you should have YOUR SHIT TOGETHER BEFORE YOU GET THERE, DUMBASS! The memo also stated that you should wear CLOTHING to the building, not RATTY, DIRTY, GREY PAJAMAS! Have some pride, America!

I'm still waiting. A regular enough looking guy walks in, looks at the numbed faces of all of us sitting there in purgatory, and he takes his number with a defeated sigh. At first, I just thought he was sorta not attractive. Nope. He was UGLY. I understand he can't help that. That's a crapshoot. He was terribly pigeon toed to the point that it affected his gait. He had very short very curly white blond hair, he was wearing an ill fitting long sleeved shirt and black slacks. He was a mouth breather which I cannot tolerate. He sat and breathed out of his mouth the whole time. I know this because he sat RIGHT NEXT TO ME. I was giving out my most powerful, "Stay the fuck away from me, motherfucker" vibes, too. That didn't stop Mr. Mouth Breather, though. He even leaned TOWARDS me. I leaned AWAY from him. Then, he did the one thing he could do to make himself less attractive and less eligible, because I guarandamntee you he is single...he went outside and smoked. In the over 100 degree heat. Number one: It looks trashy and tacky. I don't care if you agree with me or you are a smoker. It instantly makes you look like trash. Secondly, even if you go outside, you REEK of it when you come back inside. Thank you for adding to your grossness, sir. Thirdly, I saw him throw his cigarette on the sidewalk before he came back in. Therefore, he is a LITTER BUG. Asshat.

Finally, my number was called. I walked up quickly, sat, shoved my number, and all my paperwork through the little hole in the plexiglass, and there were not even words exchanged with the exception of, "That's it." (When did that replace, 'Thank you"?) I said, "Thank you", took my stuff, got up and got out. I waited 1 1/2 hours for a 2 minute transaction. Worse than Disneyworld.

By the way, just as a postscript here, I'm going to be doing some special writing where I review products on my blog. Usually, it's beauty products. That is how the blog started, actually, but I got sidetracked. If Mama wanna get paid, Mamma gotta write for the Man.

Friday, June 17, 2011

Procrastination

Procrastination is a problem I've been struggling with, lately. When I sit down to write, I end up "researching" instead. By "researching", I mean going on Facebook, Youtube, shopping, etc. Anything other than writing. My thoughts are all over the place, which means there is nothing coherent coming out of my head. I believe coherent thoughts are necessary when writing a novel.

To be fair, I've been on vacation for just over a week, and most of that time has been spent catching up on household chores, personal upkeep (hair, botox, etc.) and various other very legitimate sounding things. Truthfully, I haven't wanted to face this computer and this lack of idea that I am suffering.

I have done quite a bit of reading of OTHER author's books, however. I find misspelled words, incorrect grammar and a plethora of other problems. I become distracted by it. What do I do? I go online to various sites that talk about how grammar has been almost killed by modern authors. I get irate. I respond to posts. I worry that my OWN grammar is suffering. Was that a correct sentence? Did I use a subjective invective in the correct past tense without any dangling participles? I don't know! I don't remember! I need an editor for my blog and my responses to other people's posts!
There are several excellent sites where grammar is still held in high esteem. Most are run by literay agents, (Hello, I am a very good writer, please sign me.) or, even more intimidating, EDITORS! (Hello, I am a very good writer, please sign me.)

All in all, the summer is progressing much as other summer's have progressed. (that was a bad sentence, wasn't it?) I have thought much about what I NEED to do around the house, in the yard, etc. I have DONE none of it. I have seen several movies. I have read multiple books. I have written almost nothing. Honestly, this blog post is the most I've written since school ended. I must admit, it's disheartening, disappointing and any other "dis" you can think of.

I need to sit my ass down and just do it, but my ass doesn't want to do that. My ass wants to do other things.

Anybody else having the same issues? Does anybody legitimate want to sign me? (Please no illegitimate publishers...no "self-publishers" that don't have editors and expect you to do all the publicity yourself...I've had enough offers from them.)

Friday, June 10, 2011

April 14, 2005

ETA: The "Jail Cam" has since been removed from the internet due to some privacy issues or some crap...pffft.


2005-04-14

JailCam!

Okay, I have long wondered how to do things that are big and fancy like include links in this diary thing .

So, today I am going to attempt and do this. I fear it is a bit of voodoo..but I shall try...oh yes I shall!

The other day on a board I frequent, someone posted a link to a "Jailcam". I resisted looking at first. After all, my husband, my brother....cops. My life is lousy with cops. I don't need to watch them on the internet, right? Right. I resisted for awhile. Finally, I gave in. I looked. And I thought..."Well, this is boring." And I thought that for like...ohhhh....I don't know....an hour or so....clearly....I wasn't all that bored.

Anyhow..here is the link:
Anderson County, Tennessee Jail Cam

Let's see if this works....click on it and see if you see the booking area of the Anderson County Jail.

There is this one dude...we have been referring to him alternatively as "Man behind door #3" and "Mentally Disturbed Individual". Sanford gave me the last name. I showed the man to Sanford.
This man stands in this window and...well...just pretty much stands there. All day. All night. I asked Sanford..."Hey...what's the deal with this dude...he just stands there...staring..."

Let me just say right here that Sanford does not understand why I'm riveted by a "JailCam". He doesn't understand why I want to watch people get booked into county jail. DUH!

Anyhow...when I asked him...and showed him the guy...he said.."Oh. Obviously, that is a Mentally Disturbed Individual." OBVIOUSLY

The other night, they brought in this large woman who pretended to faint! It kicked total ass! She just keeled over! And all the deputies just stood there staring at her and then I look at Mentally Disturbed Individual and he was DANCING in the window!
He was all over the place! He stopped and pulled a dark colored shirt out of nowhere and pulled it on over his other shirt! Then he started waving his arms around and dancing again! He was all SORTS of excited...and just as he got wound up, the jailer walked over and pulled a shade down over his window so that he couldn't see anymore.
PISSED.ME.OFF.
So, EMS came, loaded faking fainter woman on the gurney, they handcuffed her and took her away.

The point is that you never know WHAT will happen! There are all these girls walking around all itchy and scratchy...they keep coming and going out of the door marked "Detox". Totally fascinating. You gotta watch for awhile.
Let me know what you think. P.S. Can you tell I learned how to make things bold and in italics? I rock!

Saturday, June 4, 2011

WHEW!

Okay, so....school is over for the year. Thank you God. Thank you whoever. Just thank you. I swear, this was the longest, hardest year I've ever taught.

I'm exhausted. Physically, mentally and emotionally. My oldest son is graduating from high school tomorrow, and I'm not ready for that. My baby. Grown up. When did THAT happen? I can still hear his voice when he was little. I can still smell his clean baby shampoo hair as he snuggled up under my chin while I read to him. I can still see his loaded diaper clad butt wiggling side to side down the hall as I chased him to change his diaper. Now, he shaves. He can vote. He can join the military. He chooses his own horrific clothing. He has political and religious opinions. When did this shit go down? He is going to college in the fall. How the hell is that going to work? He will have to get himself up in the morning, get dressed, perform the obligatory hygienic motions, eat breakfast, take medication and get himself to class. Then, he will have to write down assignments, listen to professors, get home, study, eat, sleep and do all of the things I still have to tell him to do. He hates driving, and he is going to have to drive. I really don't see how this is going to end up well. I probably am worrying for nothing, since that is what I do, but still. He is my first baby. My second baby is going to be a sophomore in high school next year. Seriously? Again..when did THAT happen? What happened to me rocking him to sleep and singing lullabies to him and him putting his little chubby baby hand over my mouth and saying, "No sing, Mommy..." Now, he is his own person. He operates technology, he refuses to do as he is told, he is going to summer school because he has to, he wants to be the baby but not be a baby...
Now, tomorrow, at my son's graduation, we will have my mother, my father, my niece and nephew, my husband, my youngest son, my step daughter, my ex husband and his mother and it will be a huge, epic clusterfuck. I plan on filming it. There is NO way this will end up well. My parents aren't speaking, I'm barely speaking with my mother, I'm not really speaking with my brother, (he cannot make it, as he is teaching a class on a SUNDAY NIGHT...) my mother hates my ex husband, and has never met his mother. My mother does NOT hide her dislike or disdain for people at all. Not for anyone's sake. It will be horrific. I have been hoarding my Xanax in anticipation of the cataclysm that is sure to occur. I just want to watch my baby graduate and be proud. But, then he is flying back to Chicago with his father for a month or so before he gets ready for college. So, he graduates and leaves the same night. I will be a basket case. Then, the next day, we register the youngest for summer school. Right before he finishes summer school, my husband and I are supposed to be in Northern California for his 40th high school reunion. We are leaving our daughter who is almost 20 in charge of getting him to and from school for the last couple of days, then taking him to his grandmother's house. It's going to be horrible.
AND, to make matter worse, I cannot walk in 4" heels, no matter what I do. What is up with that?
And this thing needs a spell check, because I'm entirely too tired to do it, tonight.