Happy Anniversary to Us....

Happy Anniversary to us.... Happy Anniversary to the cutest couple in the wer-herrrrrrrrrrld!!! Happy Anniversary to us!

Just so you know, I haven't lost my marbles. At least not completely. The previous post was about a certain piece of leftover dark chocolate Easter bunny that said dear friend brought over when she helped clean the house, which subsequently saved my arse that night during a horrific chocolate attack. Any woman with PMS knows the gravity of the situation I just described. Luckily I only suffer from mild mood swings, but the chocolate cravings are unstoppable.

Today is our sixth anniversary. We woke up at the usual time, and decided that before we went to the church to pick up our Angel Food order, we were going to go to some garage sales. So we bundled the kids in the car and took off in pursuit of a great deal in our neighborhood. We didn't buy anything, but we did end up finding out that there are a whole lot of houses in our neighborhood that look exactly like ours. We'd be driving down the street and every minute or so, I'd cry out, "Holy crap, there's another one!" Which means I know the floor plan of a lot of houses in my neighborhood, and it makes it easy to paint-shop for our house. No more wondering and imagining. Just go find the one that's painted that color. I found out our house looks good with navy trim, but not beige. Brown, but not red. And a light-colored roof isn't very flattering. And most of the houses like ours are having the same siding problems we are. Good to know.

We dropped the kids off tonight to be watched by the same loveable bunny-butt friend, and took off for a childless celebration of six years of marriage. We had plans to eat at a pub, then walk to the winery and sample some of their wines, and listen to whatever band they had playing in the Town Center that night. As we were sitting eating our Scotch eggs and watching passers-by, reflecting on past years and talking about plans for the next one, the skies opened up and dropped buckets of water over Town Center. There goes our winery plans. So instead, we dropped by and grabbed a couple of cappuccinos and spent quality time searching for treasure in the Half-Price Books. I was looking through the CDs, my music fetish back in full swing. I saw several CDs I wanted, all with band names that brought back memories of high school, but I know I can get them cheaper online, so I didn't buy them. I'm such a cheapskate. Then we carried our happy selves over to the sports store in a pathetic attempt to find something to do. Because, you see, we don't know what to do with ourselves when we don't have the children with us. We were just wandering around, albeit happy just to be together, but a little lost nonetheless.

I found a yoga ball, which I've been wanting for a while, and added it to my wish list. I also added, right above it, a new pair of Croc sandals in grey and pink. These have got to be the most comfortable shoes I've ever worn. I could wear them for days. I will have a pair as soon as the money is freed up, I can promise you that much. And I will wear them always, and love them, and pet them, and call them George.

My beloved lawn guy, Francisco, came to mow the lawn yesterday, and showed a patience I didn't know he had in him. He and his crew would work for a few minutes, then camp out in my neighbor's open garage while the torrential downpour came forth, then venture out again after it stopped. It was like that all day yesterday. Rain, stop. Rain, stop. Rain, stop. Eventually both mine and the neighbor's yard got mowed. But only through the perserverence of my stalwart Mexican friend. I felt to bad for him, knowing the weather was putting a huge dent in his schedule, to ask him to remove the two front bushes. I'll save that for next time, and hopefully the weather will cooperate with me.

As we drove home tonight with the kids, we were picking out shapes in the storm clouds above. A Viking ship, a turtle, a prancing puppy. And hoping maybe it wouldn't pour tomorrow so we can finally, at least once this rainy summer, make it out for a swim in the pool.

Tomorrow is church, and possibly bringing a friend dinner. She just had a stroke (we got the call this evening), and they may be coming home tomorrow. If they are, there's not a chance in the world I'm letting them cook. I'm already worried about their poor cat, who they spoil like a child. So, in your prayers tonight, please remember Melinda and pray for a quick return of her health and no ill side effects from the stroke.

On a little bit of a happier note, I'm going to my first real concert in ages. I'm not counting Mary Mary in the Pearland mall, because it's a little different when you actually buy a ticket and go to an ampitheater for a show. I'll be seeing Nickelback, Finger Eleven, and Puddle of Mudd. I feel like such a grown-up. I ordered the tickets today, and they should be in the mail sometime over the next few weeks. I was so excited when I decided to go that I couldn't fall asleep until 2 AM that morning. I even used my Amazon.com gift card to purchase Nickelback and Finger Eleven's newest CDs so I could know all their latest songs before the concert. I'm planning on buying a girl's Finger Eleven shirt and embellishing it with black lace to wear to the concert. I'm such a groupie. Not in a sleazy, drug-taking, backstage kinda way, but I'm darn excited.

Gonna go watch a movie now, happy night to you all!

Here it comes to save the day!

Mmmmm...... bunny butt......

This weekend was full of wistful memories and great friendship. The kind where it makes you feel better just to be with them. You don't have to be entertained, and you don't get bored just hanging out. You're just happy to be in their presence after missing them so much.

And the fact that you know them so well and so completely that it doesn't matter if you get in their business, since you know it anyway and still love them. And you don't have to worry about walking around without your makeup in your pajamas, 'cause hey, they've seen you worse. Like family. Not just any family, but more like my family, where we know everything about each other because we share all. I am conscious enough to realize how lucky I am, because not every family is like that.

And today... a big surprise. I wonder how horrible and frustrated I sounded for a dear friend to drop everything and come over to help me clean house. I must've sounded pretty bad, but I can't be more grateful for the help, the company, the listening ear, or the sound advice. Thank you.

I miss the days when we would entertain a few times a week, several families at once, all of us close. What happened to that? My world was happy and complete. I had people surrounding me, and being the social butterfly I am, it made me smile. I would practically spend my whole day talking on the phone with all my friends. Now we're so busy that it's days, sometimes weeks, before we get a chance to call and say hello. Hi, how are you. I've missed you. I guess I should count my blessings that we still keep in touch at all, considering how many people I've regrettably lost touch with that I loved dearly and never meant to lose. That's what happens when distance and kids happen. Because kids become your whole world.

Not that I'm complaining or want to change anything about the fact that I have kids, 'cause God knows I adore them.

I'm so ready for a change. I feel like this house is coming down around my ears. Before I can fix the current problems, they get shoved to the back burner one more time while a new emergency rears its ugly head. Like on Father of the Bride 2, I'm ready to call it quits if one more thing breaks. The only problem is, since I made that decision, 2 things have happened and we're stuck. We have to fix them before we move. There's no way around it. Fix them, and then fix the other problems, too. I've set a goal for moving next summer, and if the band directors cooperate and let me teach their kids, we should be able to come up with the money to get it all handled before then.

I just see it as eliminating so many problems. Lower gas and toll expenditures, more time with Bryan, newer house with less problems, shorter drive to see family, closer to my two bestest buds, who now both live on the north side of town. Of course, I'm spoiled rotten and would probably still make the commute to church, simply because I'm unsure I'll ever be able to leave. Once you find home, it's like tearing an arm off to go. You just don't want to do it.

But this house no longer feels like home.

It's been three days and I still haven't managed to procure a little notebook to write down blogworthy ideas. Just shows how busy I've been.

The weekend is looking fun, with a trip to Conroe to see my bestest bud. We're going to the movies, and we have no clue what we're going to see yet. But I will be childless for a whole 24 hours. Yeah, buddy. Which, of course, means I have a mountain of things to do tomorrow. The clincher is, I don't really care. I instead set up a playdate after the gym with another girlfriend. I'll probably still have time to get the mountain of laundry done, but I guess getting my nails done has been forfeited to social pleasures.

I've heard back from two band directors from surrounding schools, requesting my musical resume. I even managed to impress myself. Hopefully I'll be looking at 4-8 hours per week teaching from my home, which will be the extra cash flow we need to continue to massively hack away at our home improvement list. I've decided to set aside the money from teaching toward our home until it's completed, since otherwise we're looking at almost a year until we can do anything.

It's bedtime. Sorry for the short post, but I'm wiped out. Hopefully I'll be able to type a little tomorrow inbetween loads of laundry. Sleep well, my friends.

Saturday Morning Cartoons

It's 9:00 AM on a Saturday morning. While most of the sane world is either just waking up or still sleeping, I've been up for three hours. My husband is still sleeping, having been up all hours of the night replacing our air ducts when it would be possible to do so without dying of heat exhaustion. Sucks for me, since I'm alone this morning, but the cool air flow such as I've never experienced in this house the entire time I've lived here is worth it.

I've had time to get dressed, make breakfast (twice), do the dishes, clean the counters, straighten the livingroom, make the kids take 10 minutes of quiet time to calm down from their frantic running around, feed and pet the dogs, start more laundry, and monitor the kids cleaning their rooms (which any parent knows takes more time, energy, and effort than just cleaning it myself, but it's the principle of the thing). Now, with another hour before I'm due to meet Steph at the brand-new location of the gym, I have time to catch up on blogging, and fit in a few minutes of theory study before I leave. Of course, this synopsis of my morning doesn't include Eli's hissy fit, which encompassed draining my tube of toothpaste into the rubber cap of my Pampered Chef chopper, dumping sugar on my recliner and floor, starting the toaster to toast an imaginary piece of bread, climbing in the washer with the wet clothes, poking his fingers into every single one of the orange cinnamon rolls, and jumping on his sister's head. I wish I meant that figuratively. Thus the quiet time.

I've never been one to just lay around. Makes me feel lethargic, and I lose a whole day when I get to feeling like that.

I'm hoping sometime today I'll be able to go swimming. I've been wanting to all summer. I need the water like I need air, and I've felt dehydrated since last summer.

Things are getting done, though, and I can't complain about that. My Jeep actually has air conditioning again (thanks, Mom!) and the house is significantly cooler. The bushes are trimmed, as a thank-you present from Francisco for sending him referrals, and the lawn is freshly mowed. The air ducts are almost done, and I've actually managed to save some money this month. I've located all my teaching books and I'm studying them whole-heartedly.

Actually, I don't think I've mentioned that I'm going to start teaching again. Yay for me! It's something that's been on the back burner for years, but the need to get financially ahead was the motivator above all other motivators. Luckily, unlike all our other ideas, I will enjoy it. Every single minute. And it gives me a great excuse to practice whenever I want. Ha. See how I did that right there? I'm good.

I hope everything is well with your soul. I'll try to update more often, post more of my thoughts. I can't tell you how many times in the past two weeks I've thought, "I need to blog about that." And then never did and lost the idea. I'm going to start carrying a mini-notebook to write down my ideas. Therefore, you should expect more posts from me soon.

Froggy

"There's a frog on my leg."

Bryan looked at me funny, like I'd said something in code. We were doing normal, boring, domestic Saturday stuff. Picking up and dropping off some product orders. Getting dinner at a fast-food restaurant where the kids could burn some energy.

We were in the Jeep, driving down a back road near my house when I felt a splat on my leg. I'd never felt a splat before, especially not while riding in the Jeep, and my first reaction was a loud gasp. I looked down, and peering up at me was a tiny, adorable little tree frog.

"There's a frog on my leg," I repeated. "Look." I showed him.

"Wow, there really is a frog on your leg." The moment was a little weird, both of us calmly considering our visitor. Looking back, I don't think one Holy, crap! or What the hell? was uttered. Just calm speculation. It could be that both of us were groggy from a bad allergy day. I'd had zero motivation to do anything.

I slowly reached down and scooped the little thing in my hands and peered at him. "He's skinny." He hopped to my other hand, and I was filled with a pang reminiscent of my days working at pet shops. Maternal instinct kicking in. Save the world one underfed animal at a time. The reason why I had a dog, bearded dragon, sun conure, canary, and 21 bettas in an efficiency apartment.

And you think I'm joking, don't you?

Well, if you really know me, you don't.

"Wanna keep him?" As soon as it was out of my mouth, I instantly regretted it. Luckily, at the same time, Bryan's eyes scrunched up in a familiar Are you out of your cotton-pickin' mind? expression. We pulled over to put him in a nice water-filled ditch where he would find plenty of mosquitoes to brunch on, and he immediately hopped from me to Bryan, then under the console of the Jeep. We couldn't find him after that. I hope he's okay. Especially since in the short two or three minutes we had him, Izzy had named him Anden. Lately I'm beginning to suspect my four-year-old would bring in some extra money to the household selling names to science fiction/fantasy writers. Her bear is Aura. She named her herself on her fourth birthday. Bryan was so stunned by the very decisive choice that he almost asked her how she'd like to spell it. Haha.

Later we were at an ATM, and I gave Bryan my PIN. As I rattled it off, I heard Izzy in the back seat. Rattling off our phone number. I sat in shock for a minute, then asked her to repeat it. Bryan asked if I had taught her that.

No.

The only thing I can think of is that when I call clients, I always leave our phone number in the message. That's the only place I can imagine she picked it up.

Kids are sponges. I wonder what else she's picked up that I don't know about. I'm already having to learn not to say freakin' this or freakin' that, because she once told me, "Mom, you're freakin' annoying me." Go on, go ahead and laugh. It's okay. Since it sounded so bad coming out of her sweet mouth, I knew I had to stop saying it, because it probably sounded just as bad coming out of mine. Even though it isn't a curse. But is a curse really just a word, or the intent behind it?

It makes me recall a time when I was fighting with my sister when we were kids. Okay, that doesn't narrow it down much. But this particular time, I knew I was forbidden to use the word "hell." So I frankly told my sister to go to Hades. She didn't know what it was, so when I told her, she ran to Mom, crying that I'd told her to go to Hades. Now... I wasn't technically cursing, but my intent sure was the same. Luckily we don't fight anymore. Things just sorta cleared up once I moved out, and now we're great friends. I haven't told her to go to Hades in years.

:)

Eli injured himself again. I just wish he'd heal from one before getting another. The poor kid looks like he's constantly getting in fights and losing. His bruise from several weeks ago hasn't even completely healed, and he fell and hit his eyebrow on the fireplace. Cracked it open. Looks just lovely. Everywhere I go, I get Awwww, poor babys from most people, but sympathetic looks and Look, Mark, he looks like you! from other Moms of boys. At least I know I'm not alone. I used to feel horrible about how aggressive he was, until we were at the gym the other day and I watched another little boy, the same age as Eli, calmly walk up and shove a little girl down. The mother, of course, was mortified, but I felt such a relief. Mine isn't the only one. I'm not the only mother trying to deal with this. Thank God for that.

I'm thinking of hitting the sack. Got a busy day tomorrow. Busy whole week, in fact. If you're free for lunch, call me. I'm up for some socializing. :)