Eh

Ee. Eh. Can you say eh?

Eh.

Eh starts words like elephant and egg. Let's look at some pictures and words that start with eh. What is this?

Egg.

Does "egg" start with eh?

Mmm-hmmm.

What about this one?

Fire truck.

The word says "engine." Does "engine" start with eh?

It's a fire truck, Mommy.

I know, honey. You're right. It's also called a fire engine. Does "engine" start with eh?

It's a fire truck, Mommy.

It's also a fire engine. Do you see an eh in the word engine?

Mommeeee....

(pause)

Okay. Moving on...

So busy. Sorry for not posting.

We visited with my family this past weekend. I was amazed at how much we did. We arrived Thursday, and Friday we went to my mom's school to visit her while she was working. That night, my mom, the kids, and I went out for dinner and to play. Later on that evening, we met my sister for a beer and ended up playing pool. I haven't played in ages. And I'm happy to say that I still won both games. Haha.

Saturday morning we went to Cypress/Black Bayou to swim. We met an old friend there, with her boyfriend and son. It was a perfectly sunny day. Not too hot, not too cold. The water was exactly as I remember it. So dark you couldn't see the bottom after it was about a foot deep, a slight sheen of oil from the boats floating on the top. I wanted my kids to experience the lake I grew up swimming in. The one that I cut my foot wide open in because you can't see the bottom, and had to sit out the first week of band camp my senior year. Imagine teaching a flag routine on crutches. It was quite interesting.

After the lake, we received a call from one of my mom's friends, and we packed up the kids again and went to her house, where we picked scopadines from under a canopy of vines. They were covered in them, shiny green and brown spheres dangling like pearls over our heads. We ate a few of the ripe ones, and they were so sweet that it was unbelievable.

We had a family get-together as well, because my Aunt was also in town. It was nice to hang out with everyone. Sunday was church and then lunch. Then we had to pack up and go. The weekend went by way too fast.

Yesterday we started homeschooling Izzy, and it's a little early to tell how she'll really do, but the past two days have been fun for her. I've been impressed with her attention span for it, but I also realize that this is still new. We'll see how it goes later on this year. We also had a visitor, a friend from Shreveport who came and stayed the night with us.

I'm also starting to teach. I expect my student lists to be in by the end of the week, so by the end of next week I should have all the lessons set up and started. Crown starts again next weekend, and so does my Mommy Group, Time Out. It's shaping up to be a busy fall, but we all know how I thrive on being busy. I get so much more done when I'm busy, because I'm afraid I won't have time to do it later. For instance, over the past few days I've done four loads of laundry, kept the dishes done and the house clean. My house doesn't stay clean when I'm not busy. It's a strange cause and effect, but whatever works, right?

Can't wait to get updated on everyone else.

Fog

Another morning dealing with fatigue. This usually happens when I'm suffering from allergies. I can't have allergies like normal people. My symptoms have to be all screwy. Otherwise it wouldn't be very Jen-like.

First is the fatigue. For the past week, I felt like I have slept very little, even though I've been getting my normal amount. I wake up groggy and disconnected, forcing one foot in front of the other, wondering where the night went.

If it's a moderate attack, my eyes will start watering. A full-blown attack includes unending sneezing fits that cause my throat to feel like I've swallowed a bowl of the finest Texas 3-alarm chili and my head to feel like an overinflated balloon. But these are only the really bad days, and they are blessedly few and far between.

But the fatigue... it's the hardest because it's the easiest to write off. I usually think I just didn't get enough sleep, or I slept wrong, or whatever other excuse is handy. When I finally figure it out, I'm days into it. I take a Claritin and feel a million percent better within an hour or two.

That was this morning. Having been dealing with the fatigue for a week, I realized I was irritable, moody, and depressed. I was tired, and I couldn't get up the motivation to do anything other than sit in the recliner and read. The kids annoyed me to no end. They weren't doing anything different, really, but as Bry and I dicussed last night, so much in life is based on perception and reception. (It was actually a very good conversation that started with the difference between nagging and reminding -*reception*- and moved into sexual harrassment in the workplace... I guess you had to have been there.)

By eleven I figured it out. I took a Claritin, and in the past hour not only got up off my rump, but also took sufficient time to bemoan the fact that I skipped the gym this morning, did four loads of laundry, two loads of dishes, and cleaned up the livingroom and the kitchen.

So here's to Claritin-induced clarity and energy. God bless the creators of allergy medication, without whom I could never live in Houston.

Some Pics

Ending the night with a Kahlua frappuccino and a Cary Grant movie. What better way?

Here's some photos to update friends and family. Sorry for the photo quality, it's one of the reasons I'm asking for a new camera for Christmas.


My loves.


Marvin, before he became a pupae. We're (some of us, anyway) patiently awaiting our new friend.


The tire swing.


My roses.


Favorite moments this week:
-Getting roses!
-Izzy singing "Think of Me" (she's been into Phantom of the Opera lately)
-Getting an e-mail from another school about teaching
-Rockin' out at the concert
-Having absolutely no plans for tomorrow

So Amazing

I have had the most incredible couple of days. Last night was the Nickelback concert. Entertainment provided by Tipsy Steph.

I had such a blast. Some of the time I stood there, mouth open and in a silly grin, just taking it all in. I danced when Tipsy Steph drug me into it, I screamed and hollered until I was hoarse. Good times, good times. I definitely have some stories to tell after that.

This morning I woke up around 7:00 with the kids, surprised that Bry was still here. Apparently he had a meeting downtown right before 9:00. I made him breakfast, then left for my personal training appointment. Learned some new back exercises, then came home and did some laundry.

Right before noon, my door opens, and in walks my husband. Complete and total surprise, and guess what? He brought me a dozen long-stemmed red roses.

Just because.

I melted on the spot. I am so in love with him that it hurts. It was such a sweet, romantic thing to do, and I die for flowers. Especially roses.

And the dresses I ordered online two days ago came in. One I thought would be too small, but ordered it anyway knowing I'm in the process of losing weight. And wonder of wonders, the thing fits. And looks freakin' amazing. So does the other dress.

So I'm two dresses, a rock concert, and a dozen roses happier, which is pretty darn happy.

Nickelback or Bust

I've got the gear. I've got the drive. I've got the ticket.

Yeah, baby, I'm going to Nickelback.

I expect tomorrow to be crazy-busy. I want to get in one more gym session, because I have a feeling Friday is going to be worthless. And, of course, my guilty conscience makes me madly clean my house before I leave, knowing I'm leaving my kids all night with Daddy.

Bry is really great about keeping the kids. And why shouldn't he be? They're his kids, too. They love being with him, and I get the feeling he enjoys the one-on-one, too. Plus, it gives me the sanity-saving Mommy break that I require to keep functioning.

This Mommy break just happens to kick much booty.

Tire Swings

It's too early for a truly original headline.

Last night after I posted, I was treated to a molten lava cake. Chocolate chocolate chocolate. How I love thee.

Which immediately preceeded playing outside with my husband. No, not that kind of playing. Dirty mind, you have.

We were playing on our kids' tire swing. We'd take turns pushing each other. When it was my turn to ride, Bry would run with it until I was over his head, then let go. I would go soaring across almost the entire expanse of the yard, giggling. The branch it's anchored from is pretty high, so it's a mighty swing. For a moment I could relax and enjoy the movement, back and forth, back and forth, even though it took much longer to get back and forth than it did to read the words. It was kind of like back.... (wait for it)... (keep waiting)... and forth...

So if anyone needs a calming moment, give me a call. My tire swing's available.

Dreams of Pina Coladas

Mmmmm....

Had one too many last night. But at least I wasn't the only one.

I was washing some stemware from last night this evening, and it gave me a moment to reflect on the past week. It's been near perfect. The usual worries, but the good outweighed the bad.

My class went amazingly and exceedingly well. Enough for the band director to recommend me to his colleague at another (very wealthy) school as a private teacher. Plus, he is going to talk to the parents and see if we can set up a regular clinic where I would teach the clarinets. My biggest hurdle this week wasn't the actual teaching, but believing I was a teacher at all. I had to stop myself every time I talked to the band director and chant his FIRST name in my head, along with "I am his peer, not his student. I am his peer, not his student." The weirdest part is being on the other end of it all.

Now I'll have to connect with the band directors and sort out schedules. I want it to work out to be available to the students of both bands, I think it's important that they have access to a private instructor. Isn't it funny how it worked out to be me?

Friday night was Parent's Night Out at the church. We ate dinner and then walked around Town Square. If I didn't want a new camera for Christmas, I'd want this. We had such a blast playing with it. I could only think that we'd have to hide it from the kids and only bring it out when they're asleep. That's the only way poor R2 would survive our house.

Saturday was spent cleaning ferociously. I now find that funny, because I went to great pains to clean and straighten everything, and everything got blown up at the party. Tons of pina colada glasses, beer bottles, bottles of rum and tequila, three dishwashers full of food platters. We had steaks, ribs, and burgers. Made good use of our smoker/grill. And got drunk as skunks. Not intentionally, but when Steph mans the blender, it's bound to happen. Don't strike a match anywhere in the vicinity of a drink made by Steph. And Iz's room was piled knee-high in crud that the kids had pulled out of the closet. It took us hours to do damage control on that room just to have a fire path. All in all, a hugely successful party.

So here's to a great week. Sadness on the horizon with a death in the church youth. Sadly I didn't know him, but I know he will be missed.

Now I'm going to go the gym every day this week to run off those pina coladas.

Beethoven Revisited - the Establishment of a DREAM

I'm flying high. Naturally. Today was my first day of class. I am officially a teacher.

I can actually tell people I'm a music teacher now. Hahaha! The incredible feeling of self-worth that comes with that is almost overwhelming.

I dressed in my teachery best (which isn't very fancy, it's just teachery). Striped button-down, cami underneath, nice earrings and necklace, black slacks. Hair nicely coiffed, makeup on. I'm ready for my closeup, Mr. Demille.

And, wonder of wonders, the band director assigned my section to the band hall. It was completely surreal. I remember the dreams I had to be the one on that podium full-time. The dream has passed, but the wonder of it remains. There I stood, in front of a large section of Bb and bass clarinets, on the band director's podium. They had their full attention on me. Some with the expected high school irreverence, some with almost worshipful posture and attention. And just for a moment, I panicked.

I had this momentary lapse, a second of doubt. Why am I here? Who honestly thought I was qualified to do this? To teach? To instruct? To guide in the theory and performance of music? And for that moment, I was scared that they'd see right through me. To a person who is just now gaining back her own embouchure and ability. To a person who let music slide for years on the silly reasons of busyness and irritation at an old crotchety teacher. What business did I have standing in front of them?

But then the moment passed when I realized that if they could see through to that, then they could also probably see the love I have for music, the relationship that began when I was very young, a passion that still burns today. One that, unlike so many other passions, is not tempered by busyness or crotchety teachers or anything else, but simmered just below the surface, ever present, waiting to be stoked again. Because even in those music-less times, I would look longingly at my piano, hear my favorite pieces in my head. And in those rare moments that I stole to tinkle the ivories, I was set free, and the passion was reignited and burned stronger.

What can you say about that, except that of course it had to overrule any insecurities I might have?

And all I can say is Thank You God, because the four students I asked for to be interested in private lessons blossomed into six eager girls that pounced the moment the class was over. And, God willing, by the end of the week they will be set up for private lessons to the tune of of heck of a lot of money. Yippee!

You see, this is perfection. The ability to draw in funds that will forward your domestic plans while doing something that you love so much that you'd do it for free. That is the nature, I believe, of a calling. And with these funds I can see our financial goals' time lines being cut in half, the end of waiting forever for those insurmountable checks on the to-do list.

And the silly thing about it is, all I can think about is how much fun I have teaching, and how it should be considered a sin that I have so much fun and still take their money.

And I consider it a sign that I didn't hit one red light on the way to the school. Not one.

Happy

Rain and brownies and scrapbooking and beer and friends and conversation and parties and friends and kids and coffee and nachos and Crocs and nails and smiles and hugs and friends happy.

Caterpillar Poo Looks Like Pepper

Or so my daughter says.

We adopted a caterpillar four days ago, and The Iz has named him Marvin. Good name, I think. He happily crunches away at rose leaves all day, and leaves little trails of caterpillar poo on the bottom of the jar he's in. He seems pretty happy, and he brings endless joy to the kids, so I don't mind keeping him around. Plus, he's kinda cute. Less messy than a bird, anyway.

Things are going exceedingly well today. We came to the conclusion that we are definitely moving to the north side. So there's a new fire lit under our bottoms, and we dove into fixing up the house and planning immediately. I made a list, which I'm so good at doing. I've even designated things that can be accomplished by this weekend. Of course, the move won't be for several months, maybe even close to a year, but that won't be for lack of trying. But we've decided as a couple to make this our priority. So this week my job is to finish the tile, since I've already cleaned the outside of the house. I might even get a wild hair and paint the pantry. You never know, 'cause I'm kind of a rebel. You know, a loose cannon.

*snicker, snicker*

I also ordered a homeschool curriculum today. Not the one I'd hoped to get, but with the new emphasis on getting things handled around here, I couldn't see spending three times as much on the one I'd really like when I could get some stuff handled with that money. I know it's a good program, anyway, and a lot of it is how the child deals with it, anyway.

And, of all things, I walked outside today to find my landscaper putting Weed-B-Gone (or something like it) in the cracks of my driveway. Wow. I'm just so impressed at stuff like that. I didn't even ask. He just wanted my yard to look good. What a concept.

So, it's with a smile that I go back to the grindstone and figure out how to lay this darned tile. Wish me luck!